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#i was going to change the last line to i'd find you and i'd annoy you but i decided not to

am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

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🎶🎻 let's see if this actually helps me find this later

WIBTA for marking up my friend's sheet music?

ok so I (15m) have a friend (17f) and we both play cello in the classical music ensemble at our school. we have both been playing cello for approx 7 years. we had very different musical upbringings: she learned to play cello in a class with a bunch of other kids, and from what I gather there were many other instruments and the teacher took kind of a hands-off approach, which is typical for the kind of elementary school she went to. I, on the other hand, learned through private lessons (which I don't think I'm better for, it's just different) and my teacher (who I still take piano and cello lessons from) is a little bit obsessive when it comes to correct technique and stuff. I care a little less about technique than my teacher, but I definitely developed quite a few of her habits: I always pay really close attention to what the sheet music tells me, especially dynamics and which direction my bow needs to go in, or how many notes I'm playing in a bow stroke. part of this is because that's what the composer would have wanted and also because when I started my teacher would make me mark everything, and I mean EVERYTHING in my sheet music. we're talking fingerings, bow markings, highlighting every chreschendo and decrescendo, putting the counting in for all of the rhythms and more. now I typically only mark super important things, like if I keep forgetting a note or something, and I rarely mark my cello sheet music in ensembles, though everyone has seen me mark my bass music, since I'm new to bass.

Recently, since it's about 2/3rds of the way through the school year and we have a good group, my ensemble has been playing more challenging stuff. the parts or more intricately layered and dynamics are a pretty big thing, especially for the cello section, since we basically have one line for half of a piece which is just to play some half notes that crescendo and decrescendo over and over. and it's like, all we do, like it's a pretty big part of the song. the issue is that my friend just kind of ignores the dynamic markings and bowings in the music and what the other cellists are doing (there's three of us, including me and her and she sits in between us) so she just kinda plays the piece at the same volume. the whole time. and it's written right there. and she's heard me play it solo without the ensemble before, so in theory she knows how to do it. and after seven years of playing the cello, you should have the bow control to play quietly.

now, this wouldn't annoy me so much if her ignorance wasn't a recurring thing. last year, we played aquarius with the jazz ensemble and we both really liked the piece. except we had this one part. we had to play a bunch of tied whole notes in the beginning. just two in a row and then we'd change bows. (if you don't play an instrument, a tied note is basically when the note is played over two measures, in this case we would play the same note fore eight beats, and then reverse the direction of our bow) now, I can hold my bow in one direction for eight beats. it's not fun or easy and I'd rather play a melody or bass line to begin with, but if you're playing quietly (like we were supposed to be) you can maintain a pretty steady pace for eight beats in one bow. my friend NEVER did this. she would just run her bow back and forth on the note until we moved on to the next and then do the same there. and I'm talking like she'd play maybe ten notes while we played one. which, obviously, through off the rhythm. we weren't as close last year and I didn't know she'd been playing as long as she had, so I ignored it. but, she kept doing it and she still does. I've confronted her about it multiple times, saying how it's like if you breathed half way through a note on a wind instrument, how it messes us up because her bow will go in a different direction than the other cellos and hit me in the elbow a lot, and how it makes us look weirdly messy. every time she just kind of says okay and walks off.

now, I think my friend could benefit from having her sheet music marked like my teacher used to make me, because clearly just mentioning it to her is not enough and as we move on to harder music it's making us look worse. so, wibta if I brought some extra pens and highlighters and reminded her to circle or highlight different dynamic, rhythmic and bowing notations if she doesn't play them the first few times?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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estapa-edwards · 25 days

Text

ENEMIES -- R.MCGROARTY

paring: rutger mcgroarty x fem! reader

word count: 2k

requested? no

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

The moment I first laid eyes on Rutger McGroarty, I knew we were destined to clash. He was arrogant, with a smug grin that seemed permanently etched on his face, and I, well, I wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

We met during freshman orientation at the University of Michigan. As I was walking to my first class, he nearly knocked me over with his oversized hockey bag.

"Watch where you're going!" I snapped, glaring at him.

He smirked, looking me up and down. "Maybe you should watch where you're walking."

From that day on, our interactions were a constant battle of wits and snarky comments. Whether it was in the cafeteria, the library, or even in the hallway between classes, we couldn’t seem to be in the same vicinity without exchanging harsh words.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Library encounter -

I was deep in thought, trying to concentrate on my studies when I heard someone loudly discussing last night's hockey game. Annoyed, I turned to find Rutger sitting at a nearby table, clearly trying to distract me.

"Could you keep it down? Some of us are actually trying to study," I said, shooting him a glare.

He looked up, feigning innocence. "Oh, sorry. I was just celebrating our latest victory. Maybe if you came to a game once in a while, you'd understand."

Rolling my eyes, I replied, "I'd rather not waste my time watching a bunch of guys chase a puck around."

He smirked, leaning back in his chair. "You don't know what you're missing."

Cafeteria Encounter -

I was waiting in line to grab a coffee when Rutger stepped in front of me, cutting in line.

"Excuse me, I was here first," I said, tapping him on the shoulder.

He turned around, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, maybe if you were faster, you wouldn't have this problem."

I crossed my arms, trying to hide the smile tugging at my lips. "You're unbelievable."

He winked, grinning cheekily. "I know."

Post-Game Banter -

After a particularly intense game, I found myself walking past Rutger, who was surrounded by his teammates, celebrating their win.

"Nice game," I said, trying to sound indifferent.

He looked over, smirking. "Thanks. I guess you enjoyed watching us win, didn't you?"

I rolled my eyes, trying to keep the playful tone out of my voice. "Don't flatter yourself. I was just there for the free snacks."

He chuckled, stepping closer. "Sure, whatever you say."

The Encounter That Changed It All -

We found ourselves in the library again, our usual battleground for our heated debates and arguments.

"If my team wins the championship this year," Rutger started, a confident smirk playing on his lips, "you have to come to every home game next season and wear our team jersey."

I raised an eyebrow, challenging him. "And if they lose?"

His grin widened, the mischievous glint in his eyes unmistakable. "Then you never have to speak to me again."

I hesitated for a moment, contemplating the stakes. But the competitive side of me couldn't resist the challenge. "Fine, you're on."

Rutger extended his hand towards me, sealing the deal. "Deal. Prepare to become a hockey fan, Y/N."

As the season progressed, the bet became the center of our playful banter. Rutger would often tease me about how much I was going to enjoy the games, while I would brush off his comments with sarcastic remarks.

"Can't wait to see you in that jersey," he would say with a wink.

"Don't get too excited," I would reply, trying to hide the smile tugging at my lips. "I'm only doing this because I'm confident your team will lose."

But deep down, I was starting to enjoy our banter and secretly looked forward to attending the games, even if it was just to prove Rutger wrong.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

The championship game was the climax of our bet. The tension was palpable as both teams fought fiercely for the win. In the final moments, with the score tied, Rutger managed to score the winning goal, securing the championship for his team.

I watched in disbelief as Rutger celebrated with his teammates, realizing that I had lost the bet. I would have to honor our agreement and attend every home game the following season, wearing the team jersey.

The stadium was buzzing with excitement after the intense championship game. Rutger, sweaty and exhilarated from the win, found me waiting near the exit.

"So, what did you think?" he asked, a smug grin on his face as he approached me.

I crossed my arms, trying to maintain a composed expression. "It was a good game, I'll give you that."

He chuckled, clearly enjoying my reluctant admission. "Just good? Come on, it was amazing! Admit it, you enjoyed watching us win."

I sighed, unable to hide the smile tugging at my lips. "Fine, it was more than just good. You played really well."

Rutger's grin widened, and he leaned in closer, the playful tension between us palpable. "I knew you'd come around eventually. So, are you looking forward to wearing our team jersey at every home game next season?"

I rolled my eyes, trying to maintain my defiant stance. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I still have a whole season of hockey to endure."

He chuckled, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Trust me, you're going to love it. And who knows, maybe you'll become a hockey fan after all."

I smirked, shaking my head in disbelief at how much our relationship had evolved since our first encounter. "We'll see about that, McGroarty."

Rutger winked, leaning in to whisper in my ear. "I'm looking forward to our next bet."

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

It was a chilly evening, and the university campus was buzzing with excitement for the upcoming hockey season. Rutger had invited me to a pre-season team event, and despite my initial reluctance, I decided to go.

The atmosphere was lively, with music playing and teammates mingling with friends and family. Rutger greeted me with a warm smile as I arrived.

"Thanks for coming," he said, handing me a drink. "I promise, you'll have a great time tonight."

I looked around, feeling slightly out of place among the hockey players and their friends. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Rutger chuckled, taking my hand and leading me towards the dance floor. "Come on, let's have some fun."

As we danced, I couldn't help but notice how different Rutger was outside of our usual bickering. He was kind, attentive, and surprisingly charming. The tension between us was undeniable, and I found myself drawn to him more than I cared to admit.

After a few songs, Rutger pulled me aside, his eyes searching mine. "Y/N, I have a proposition for you."

I raised an eyebrow, curious about what he was about to say. "What kind of proposition?"

He took a deep breath, his expression serious yet playful. "How about another bet?"

I laughed, intrigued by his proposal. "Another bet? What are the stakes this time?"

Rutger grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "If my team wins the season opener, you have to go on a date with me. And if they lose, I'll leave you alone for good."

I considered his offer, the competitive side of me tempted by the challenge, but still reluctant to admit my growing feelings for him. "I don't know, Rutger. What's in it for you?"

He chuckled, leaning in to press his lips against mine in a soft, lingering kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the pent-up emotions and tension that had been building between us.

Pulling away slightly, Rutger looked into my eyes, searching for a response. "So, do we have a deal?"

I sighed, feeling a warmth spread through me at his words, despite my reservations. "Alright, Rutger, we have a deal. But don't get too confident."

He grinned, his eyes shining with excitement. "I look forward to winning this bet."

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

The day of the season opener had arrived, and the excitement on campus was palpable. Rutger had been training hard, and the team was in high spirits. Despite my initial reluctance, I found myself drawn into the anticipation of the game.

The stadium was packed with enthusiastic fans, and the atmosphere was electric as the game began. I watched nervously from the stands, cheering for Rutger and his team, even though I was still trying to maintain my competitive edge.

The game was intense, with both teams giving it their all. As the final minutes ticked away, the score remained close, and the tension in the stadium was palpable.

Then, in the last moments of the game, Rutger managed to break away from the defense and score the winning goal. The crowd erupted in cheers, and the team celebrated on the ice.

I watched in disbelief as Rutger skated towards the sidelines, his eyes searching for me. He winked and blew me a kiss, his grin wide and triumphant.

After the game, I waited for Rutger outside the locker room, still processing the outcome of the bet. When he emerged, sweaty and exhilarated from the win, he greeted me with a triumphant smile.

"So, about that bet," he said, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me close.

I sighed, trying to maintain my composure, but the smile on my face betrayed me. "Yes, you won fair and square. I'll honor our deal."

Rutger grinned, leaning in to press his lips against mine in a passionate kiss. It was a kiss filled with victory and the realization of our growing feelings for each other.

Pulling away slightly, Rutger looked into my eyes, his expression soft and sincere. "I'm looking forward to our date, Y/N."

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me at his words. "Me too, Rutger. Me too."

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

A few days after the season opener, Rutger and I were both still basking in the excitement of the win and the outcome of our bet. The tension between us had shifted from competitive to flirtatious, and I found myself looking forward to our upcoming date.

Rutger had planned a special evening for our date, and he was determined to make it memorable. He picked me up from my dorm, looking dashing in a crisp shirt and jacket.

"You look amazing," he complimented as I stepped into his car.

"Thank you," I replied, blushing slightly at his words.

Our first stop was a cozy little Italian restaurant in town. The ambiance was perfect, with soft lighting and romantic music playing in the background. We enjoyed a delicious meal and shared stories and laughter, getting to know each other better outside of our usual banter.

After dinner, Rutger surprised me with tickets to a local art exhibit. He knew I loved art, and he had taken the time to plan a thoughtful and meaningful date.

As we walked through the exhibit, Rutger took my hand, leading me from one artwork to another. We shared whispered conversations about our favorite pieces, and I could feel the connection between us growing stronger with each passing moment.

Finally, as we stood in front of a beautiful painting depicting a serene landscape, Rutger turned to me, his eyes filled with sincerity.

"Y/N, tonight has been amazing," he began, taking a deep breath. "I've come to realize that I want more than just a bet or a casual fling. I want us to be together, officially."

I looked into his eyes, seeing the genuine emotion and vulnerability in his gaze. "Rutger..."

He gently cupped my face, leaning in to press his lips against mine in a tender and heartfelt kiss. It was a kiss filled with love, commitment, and the promise of a future together.

Pulling away slightly, Rutger looked into my eyes, his expression soft and sincere. "Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?"

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me at his words. "Yes, Rutger, I will."

Rutger grinned, pulling me close and wrapping me in a tight embrace. "I'm the luckiest guy in the world.

#rutger mcgroarty x reader #rutger mcgroarty #umich hockey #university of michigan #hockey

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hyhkai · 3 months

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txt as book boyfriends

a/n ; my opinions, casual writing, and not proofread, some spoilers of the books maybe?

Yeonjun — Alex Volkov [Twisted Series]

"alex, that piece costs $40,000"

"really? shit. i thought it was expensive."

yeonjun as Alex Volkov is because of the way Alex talks, the way he'd always had this surpressed feeling for his friends sister, the way Alex had that very mysterious aura about him halfway through the book towards everyone about his life, and ESPECIALLY the chapters of the movie night and where he had booked a hotel room just so he could take her there and fuck her after the swimming pool scene really has me on a chokehold because it's so yeonjun coded... yeonjun is the type to teach you something you have a fear of and then turn it into sex of your life if you can interpret that into your imagination.

while that is one spectrum of this character, the other being from the photoshoot scene, where he's posing and talking about his life that changed her perception of him. as I've mentioned before, the way Alex talks and the way he is is just so amusing and it's altogether a very yeonjun aura.

Soobin — Aaron Warner [Shatter me series]

"I want you to make a list of things you want and I want my heart to be on it."

Aaron has one quality i associate with bf!soobin and that is — care. they care about their girls dearly. soobin and Aaron are so similar in my vision — especially with soobins blonde era, dimples, and how aaron had this underlying obsession for Ella, makes me just think of soobin. and ofcourse his iconic line,, "lift your hips for me, love." is so soobin coded. Aaron would never bring her down, even if it was going to sabotage his own impression on others, he'd always be for her. soobin is just like that.

also soobin & warner are also the epitome of gentleman who are absolute freaks in bed and are so silent and know how to give it to you lmao.

Beomgyu — Levi Ward [Love on the brain]

"she's my soulmate. if I hurt, she hurts."

Levi was very public about his love for bee in the book, even before from where the plot starts. beomgyu is so like that, he'd never deny his affection and his urge to always be lurking around with you like he's your damn dog.

Taehyun — Ravi [A good girl's guide to murder]

"we're a team, remember? no one's taking you away from me, not even you."

do i even need to explain? Ravi is smart, flirty and attractive. with his comic attitude, he's still clever and witty. a friend I'd call when in trouble and then hopelessly fall in love with. understanding, and affectionate in general. everything I like in a man, and is the only one that came to mind for taehyun. he's bold and knows what he's doing and also has his soft side.

Hueningkai — zade meadows [Haunting Adeline]

"will you be my last meal, baby?"

LET ME EXPLAIN. hueningkai just is.. like that. outside, he's quiet and nobody will ever look at him and go "he's obsessed with a girl.". but, he's exactly that. his black hair era just reminds me of meadows and how hueningkai WOULD fuck you in the house of Mirrors after the carnival closed (that's a scene i swear). and I am indeed only talking about the romance plot of the series of course.

luring into your house and suggesting a game of hide and seek, you hid in the storage room and he'd laugh, saying "if I catch you, i fuck you." and then finding you immediately.

and you'd be so annoyed by his dire need of you, getting on your needs, taking his belt off and wrapping it around your own neck and handing him the lose end of it as he just grinned at the pathetic sight — how lovely.

#txt soft hours #txt fluff #txt drabbles #txt thoughts #taehyun soft thoughts #yeonjun soft hours #beomgyu soft hours #hueningkai hard hours #hueningkai soft hours #soobin soft hours #yeonjun hard thoughts #taehyun soft hours #txt x reader #txt smut

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bi-ss · 1 month

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~ Ties that bind ~

Bucky x reader- arranged marriage.

Summary: You agreed to arrange marriage when you were little, after seeing who you are to marry. You wish you could go back.

Warning- drinking? None i can't think of.

(Spelling may be bad as I'm very dyslexic sorry in advance)

You've been staying in your bestfriends apartment for 2 days now, you've just had more time to think about what will become of your life, you didn't get as many texts from James as you thought when you went to bed around 11PM but oh lord when you woke up it wouldn't stop going off, in all truth your phone died and you fell asleep with it on charge.

"Omg, would you turn that off.. It's 6:30, i love you, but not that much.." your friend groaned as she walked over to your phone to turn it off seeing you still in your make shift bed, you were about to get up and go get coffee but a 'huh' your friend made caught your attention.

"What? If it's something stupid, imma smack you so hard.." You look at your now bright screen to see unread texts coming through from an unknown caller, you picked it up and started reading some, with her reading over your shoulder, your were confused at first because you didn't know who it was but when finding out who thought it would be an amazing idea to text you at an ungodly time, but you soon figured it out, it was james.

You were annoyed at not only did he get home at 1am close to 2 so you would have been there for hours on your own but because he was the last person you wanted to talk to.

Rolling your eyes you went on with your life, making and drink a cup of coffee then getting ready to attend a fashion show, you weren't walking but you were invited with front row seats and couldn't pass it up, and there was have after party which you managed to get your friend into aswell somehow, so a minimum of 6 hours away from James and all the stress in the world.

"I wonder if theres cute guys there? I hope so. Ugh, after me and Josh broke up, I've been so lonely.. in bed, of course, i dont want commitment!" You watch as your best friend since college, Chloe, yapped about boys while realising for the 4th time today what's going to change when you marry James, "have you seen Joshs new girlfriend, I think we went to high school with her.. shes nice..." As she continues to gossip while doing makeup, you zone out and think about your life until she claps, getting your attention once again, "you know what?! I'm happy for Josh. I'm happy being single. He's happy being non single." She smiled at you."You should be happy you're marrying one of the most richest and most powerful men in America, probably the world, maybe.." You just nod and smile at her. You don't know if you are smiling because she's smiling or if what she said was correct, you're sure you'll find out.

While driving to the fashion show, the topic of James was brought up, "if I were marrying him, I'd be in his bed so fast," Chloe stated for the 38th time. "Is it true? The rumours about his arm, that's is.. no doubt the rumours about his dick aren't false -" You zone out from your friends rant about James when your phone screen lit up from a text... his text.. one after the other..

You zoned back in to hear chloe talking about Zeon. In all fairness, you didn't know who he was, but also, she hadn't spoken about him til now, or you think so? You were about to ask who he was until you see a modern building with lots of windows and a weird looking woman statue but with no curves and all straight lines and spikes, it did make you uncomfortable in an unspeakable way but you got out of the car and walked past it while looking down, you walked up to the bouncer you, showing your Ids and was let in, after the man blocking the door with a clipboard questioned chloe about if she was in the right place or not.

You were seated towards the end of the runway, which you didn't mind, but what you did mind was the constant camera flash some for the models but mostly for you.. that isn't helping you stay away from James, but you do like attention. The event was over later than you expected as some older women went on a rant about how fashion changed and how it was disturbing now or whatever.

You parked in a 24/7 parking zone and walked a little over 10 minutes for the after party that was already in full swing when you got there, heading straight towards the bar with chloe walking close behind to order a mocktail since you dont drink often but over to your left chloe was downing tequila shots like water, that wasn't surprising but what was surprising was when she ordered a cocktail and sent it your way, she knows you don't drink but looking around and seeing all the lady's glancing at you knowingly you thought this was one of the rare occasions where you will drink, and drink you did.

You knew from the start that marrying James Barnes wouldn't be easy from all his "fans" who are just girls throwing themselves on him but finding out he has a girlfriend? A whole other can of worms you didn't realise opened but the girls at this club were a new level of bitchy, like one tried spilling her red wine on you but ended up missing and it went over the lad next to you who weren't amused at all or when you were dancing with chloe and some other chick tried tripping you but you stepped over her foot unknowingly but 30 seconds later you did almost trip yourself up, but that's about the last thing you remember apart from getting more drink and getting hit on some else happening then dancing on someone or dancing on your companion.

But you do know 1 thing for certain is that you've woken up with a massive banging head ache in a warm bed, half dressed and with what you assumed someone sleeping next to you as they haven't moved, unless they're watching you sleep?

(Lol sorry i hadn't been posting i just moved, lmao, so that's taken most of my time)

TAGS: @learis @unaxv @cjand10 @pattiemac1 @coffee-winter-and-silence @scott-loki-barnes @blackhawkfanatic

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shayyprasad · 4 months

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weighing scale

tw: eating disorder (purging, not eating), bodyshaming, ed shaming

btw, if it's requested, i can turn drabbles into full oneshots!!!!!!!!!!!!!

you guys are beautiful the way you are, and nothing anybody ever says or does will ever change that. remember that gaining weight is totally normal, and you can always lose weight, too, but please, do it in a healthy way. if you ever need anyone to talk to, and this isn't just for eds, i'm here, and you can reach out. if not, there are people who care about you and love you.

you're amazing you beautiful mfs

(also i'm sorry if this might not be correct for you, everyone has different experiences with eds)

(also, also, i did 1st person ... and this is just the way i thought when i was going thru this so i kinda made it relate w/ me??)

100.

98.

96.

she watched as the numbers went down, satisfied despite the fact that it was only one pound less yesterday.

90.

88.

even if it meant that she'd always be cold, or that her hair would fall out. it was a small price to pay to be beautiful. to be skinny. to be like all the other girls that peter liked.

y/n kept telling herself that. and it was enough to keep her going.

{four weeks prior}

(first person)

they had little packets for us to take home, like forms. something along the lines of "annual health check-up." the form was just... well, it wasn't a form, really, but more of an opt-out. the paper said they'd just check weight, height, and some other things, like make sure you didn't have scoliosis.

honestly?

i was just happy to be missing a good chunk of math.

everyone got called down to the gym by period, and mine was 5th period, right before lunch.

our class was waiting for them to call us down, so mr. callen just let us do whatever until then. i glanced over to see liz, kayla, and chloe in the corner of the classroom, giggling and pointing towards some of the boys, and eventually, mr. callen.

he was one of the youngest members on faculty, fresh out of college. and i'll admit, he's not bad looking. in fact, he's hotter than most of the guys. and if it wasn't peter that had my heart, maybe i'd think about someone else.

not that the whole peter thing was going great anyways, he seemed interested in liz. so maybe that was my hint to move on. but i don't know. i've just liked him forever, it'd feel wrong to stop now.

i'm just really loyal, i guess.

or maybe this is some weird first love/crush thing, because no matter what, i keep finding myself coming back to him.

it took me second to realize that i'd been staring at the same spot for a while now, so i probably looked funny. i re-adjusted my position and looked at the clock, noting there there was just a few minutes until we'd have to go down.

i looked by at the girls, then at the teacher. did they not realize that he had an engagement ring on? or where they just dense?

because honestly, i'm having a hard time figuring out which one it is.

liz pushed chloe over to the desk, giggling like a manic.

chloe bit her lip, trying to hold in laughter. "hiiii, cal. you know, like, cupid's day is coming?"

me, personally, i didn't really believe in the whole dumb blonde thing, but chloe was changing my aspect on this.

cupid's day was on valentine's day, and you could pay a dollar to have a rose delivered to someone. normally, the freshmen girls did most of the planning. freshmen girls were annoying. they were always together, and i didn't remember a time i'd seen one alone.

i didn't get any on my first year here. last year i got three. but it didn't really count, because mj got me one and betty did. i was hoping that i'd figure out who the third person was, but three weeks into that investigation, i kinda gave up. if they hadn't revealed themselves to me at that point, i'd figured that they probably wouldn't.

maybe junior year will go better.

if you were popular popular, you got at least seven, so it was kind of embarrasing to only get one. and it was probably even more embarrasing to only have, like, one friend. which was betty. but she hadn't hung around me that often since she started dating ned.

mj was an observer, and i knew that much. it was probably the only reason she got me a rose, because she felt bad. but then again, anyone could see how pathetic it was.

peter and i used to be pretty close, but then he met ned, so the attention he gave me got halved.

i would have tried to be friends with ned, because i know he's really nice, but i stressed out too much about it for some reason and gave up. social anxiety, perhaps? it didn't matter, it was too late to do anything about it now.

after that, peter started hanging around liz and some of the other popular kids, and entirely forgot about me.

did forget about ned, though. maybe beacuse i was a girl, and so peter got called "gay" a lot for that. i didn't have much of a chance compared to liz, so i just admired him from afar. it's not that we didn't talk, because we did sometimes, but... actually, i don't know what.

if peter wanted to, he would have.

and it's fairly obvious, but i'm delusional and chose to ignore that.

the intercom snapped me out of whatever zoning out i'd gone back to, "block d, block d. i-is this on? oh, it is? i- yes, block d down to the gym."

everyone got up and pushed their way out the door, i didn't have that type of energy, so i just waited for everyone to get their butts outta the way and then went myself. i followed them down to the hall, staying behind a little. when i finally got over there, i ended up last, right behind chloe, kayla, then liz.

for the most part, it only took a minute or two for each person, so the line didn't take that long.

well, i suppose that's subjective.

it took 15 minutes, but whatever.

when liz was inside, she didn't take care to close the door all the way, leaving it a couple inches open. that's on her.

that's on her for being irresponsible, so it's not really my fault if i accidently hear. i leaned in a little, suddenly very interested in the wall, with all it's cracks... and... paint, and...

"and step on the scale, please... that is," she paused, and you could hear scribbling of a pen.

"121.3 pounds. perfectly healthy. that's actually the average weight for girls your age," another pause, "make sure to give this form to your parents. have a nice day."

liz said something in return and i stepped back, done admiring the wall. "next!" the lady called in.

i stepped inside the room, and it smelt strongly of hand-sanitizer. "okay, honey, step up against the wall... height is... alrightly. now the scale, please."

i did as she asked, keeping my eyes trained on the numbers.

149.7 pounds. basically 150. that was more than liz's, right?

"149, okay, you're good to go-"

"is that around average weight?" i asked, and it was impulsive, i didn't even think.

"well, it's somewhere around that. you're perfectly healthy."

the intercom came on again, signaling my time was over, and the lady thought the same thing, because she ushered me out.

as i walked back to the classroom, i couldn't help but think;

149? no, 150? around average? so basically, i was above average. 30 pounds heavier than liz? no wonder peter likes liz better.

god, that's disgusting. i'm disgusting.

i trudged back to class, unable to stop thinking about it. and suddenly, an idea popped into my mind; why not lose weight? if i lost a little, maybe peter would care about me again.

that's genius. god, i'm a genius.

yeah. i lose a little weight.

when i got back, he'd already started the lesson, not that i cared. i spent the rest of that class figuring out the kinks, like how many calories i'm allowed to eat per day.

i settled on 800.

it seemed like a decent number if i wanted to actually make an impact with weight loss.

stupid kale smoothies weren't gonna get me anywhere, nor idiotic influencer workout routines.

before i knew it, the bell rung and kids were hustling through the hallways. i was kind of on autopilot as i walked to lunch, not really watching where i was going. i'd by mistake shouldered some people, and they gave me dirty looks. i shot them right back.

i couldn't help but silently, in my mind, judge everyone's body that i saw. and not just their body, but other physical features, too. it was automatic, i didn't even mean to. but i couldn't help it.

she's really fat. the gym exists for a reason.

how is she so skinny? i know she's anorexic.

and it just went on and on.

i didn't know what was going on. why this mattered to me all of a sudden.

it was like i didn't notice these things before, i wasn't looking for them, but now that i knew they were there, i couldn't help it.

i couldn't help a lot of things.

when i walked into the lunchroom, i saw peter sitting by himself, writing on some piece of paper, and if i knew him, he wasn't doing the homework due tomorrow.

he was doing yesterday's.

it didn't seem like i'd be bothering him if i went to go talk to him, so that's what i did. i figured since we hadn't talked in while, it would be great to now.

and it'd be a great distraction, too.

i sat down across from him, "hi, peter."

he looked up slowly, a smile rising on his face. "uh, hey, y/n/n," peter paused, "what, um, what did you need?"

"huh? oh, i didn't need anything. just thought i'd come by and annoy the hell out of you."

"just like old times," peter snorted.

"math homework?"

"yep. i have math-"

"-next period," i realized my mistake after i made it. "um, 'cause i see you when i'm walking to class."

in repsonse, he nodded like he was considering it.

i didn't notice i was hungry until my stomach growled, but something inside of me made the thought of getting food and eating it repulsive. i hesitated before grabbing on of peter's fries and popping it in my mouth. he didn't say anything, or really even care, and i didn't know if i liked that or not.

"okay. you have chem next, yeah?"

i blushed at the fact he knew.

"uh, yep," i snagged some more fries, feeling myself loosen up.

and then i realized, that's what this was; i was just in need of some time with actual people who weren't my parents.

i liked this. i liked talking to peter. it was easy. this was easy.

we laughed about some other things, like flash's new donkey haircut.

and i stole more fries. ned, betty, and mj (who normally sat two seats away) came over. the topic of cupid's day came up.

"how many do you think you'll get?" betty asked.

i looked up, "roses?"

"uh-huh."

ned spoke up, "you won't need to worry, bet, i'll get you a whole bouquet." he looked proud of himself.

"i'm not worried," she giggled, like the lovesick fool she was. it was gross. and yes i admit, it was slightly because i was jealous, but whatever. betty didn't have to act so idiotic and desperate.

betty's skinny, too.

"what about you, y/n?" peter said, locking eyes with me.

"i dunno. i never really get any."

something changed in peter's expression, but as soon as it was there, it was gone.

i took another fry. they were really good, for some reason.

"fattie," peter laughed, pulling his lunch tray back, "and then you complain about not getting roses!"

that caused a round of laughs in the small group, but my heart dropped to my feet.

i was right. i was overweight. even peter noticed.

freaking peter noticed.

god, i was ugly and fat, and even peter saw that.

of course he liked liz. he'd be crazy not to. she was curvy and skinny and petite and pretty and skinny.

she was skinny.

i didn't have her hourglass figure.

never did i ever want out of my own skin more.

"y/n?" pete frowned. "i-i'm sorry, it was a joke, i didn't-"

"no, no, not that. i, uh, i... forgot i was supposed to meet with a teacher. sorry. i have to go."

i didn't go to any teachers.

i did go to the bathroom.

and i hid in the handicapped stall. i didn't cry, or sob, or weep or whatever it was stupid girls did in hallmark movies or stuff.

i stood in front of the mirror and picked out everything i hated, making a mental list in my head.

i didn't finish that list, not even after 30 minutes when the bell rung.

the rest of the day flew by rather quickly, it seemed. i felt like i was trapped in a warm haze, but not the fuzzy, happy warmth. i didn't like the way i was thinking. it's like i wanted my brain to turn off, these intruding, ugly thoughts were taking up too much room.

i felt icky.

when i got home, i didn't have my normal after-school snack like i usually did. i went straight upstairs and did homework.

i finished two essays (one that wasn't due until two weeks, and one that was due two days from now), my math homework and studied for my math test, started my science project, and did my french flashcards (and studied them a bit).

i must have been locked in my room for hours, because by the time i got up, it was dark outside.

i wasn't a studious person, and the only reason i did any of this was to forget for a little while. to snap out of it. and for a while, it worked.

"y/n, honey!" my mom screamed from downstairs, and as i glanced at the clock, i realized it was time to have dinner.

but i wasn't hungry.

well, i was.

let me rephrase that; i didn't want to eat.

however, i didn't want my mother yelling at me, so i went down anyways. not that i was planning to eat.

"mom?"

"oh, hey. i already set the table, you seemed like you were working hard and i didn't wanna bother you. dad's working late. go sit down-"

"not hungry."

she frowned. "well, you have to eat something."

"but i'm not hungry," i said, hating how sharply it came out.

my mom gave me warning look. "look, i've had a long day, so don't start with me."

"mommmm," i whined.

"sit."

so i did. i felt bad about bothering her.

i ate. small, tentative bites, forcing it all down. we didn't talk.

silently, i put my dish in the sink, before heading upstairs. the food sat at the bottom of my stomach, like a pile of heavy rocks. i wanted them out.

so i turned on the shower and locked the bathroom door, kneeling in front of the toilet. i pressed my fingers to the back of my throat and kept them there for a second. at first, all i got was bile.

but then i threw up.

peter and i started talking more again. i think he got in a fight with liz.

i asked him if they were dating, and he said no.

i think he started hanging out with me again because i got skinny. i know for a fact that i'm skinnier than liz. i weigh less then her now.

the numbers told me that.

but i didn't listen.

i didn't stop, and how could i? when i'd gotten this far?

we got in a fight. not the yelling kind, though. well, kind of. i yelled a bit.

i thought he was complimenting me. he said i looked skinny, so i thanked him.

"no... i-" he paused, trying to get his thoughts together, "you look skinny, yes, but not in a good way."

"what? what do you mean? like, there's only a good way," i laughed, slightly nervous.

peter ingnored that. "have you been eating enough, angel?" his voice was soft, but there was worry in it. why was he worried? this is the best i've ever been.

"do you ask liz that, too?"

"i- what?"

"liz is skinny. you don't ask her that."

"that- that is different. y-you haven't been eating, have you? is-"

"god, parker! stop! it's none of your business!" maybe if i hadn't been so flustered, i'd have come up with a better comeback.

i was hunched over the toilet, but nothing was coming out. everything hurt.

my head. my stomach.

my throat was scratchy and raw.

i didn't hear the knocking on the door.

i don't really remember peter coming in. i thought i locked it. what was he doing at my house? i couldn't remember.

i wanted to sleep.

i think i was crying. i don't know. i only vaguely remember the hot tears.

i slightly remember him pulling me away from the toilet and into his arms. there were lots of holes in my memory for that day.

he stayed with me, though. one thing i'm sure about is that peter never left my side. i can recall bright lights. tubes. i was laying on something. white walls. white sheets.

what was engraved into my head was peter whispering "i love you" over and over again. in the bathroom. in the car. was it a car? as they hooked me up to cables.

all that mattered, though, was that i was skinny now. just the thought made me feel light and airy.

to think that all it took was a little motivation and a weighing scale.

#reader discretion advised #tw ed #tom holland x reader #spiderman #tom holland #peter parker #peter parker x you

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brightlight-dazzlingeyes · 3 months

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i found you | rúben dias

💘 synopsis: it's rúben's and isabella's first valentine's day together. warnings: fluff and gratuitous valentine-cute-themed smut becasue why not. (can be read as x reader cause i forgot to mention the oc name in the story) (this is a sequel to between the lines, but can be read as a standalone; since there's no actual smut in the original story, i figured i should give my oc a nice epilogue) (W.C. 1.5K)

Once upon a time, I was convinced that romantic love was nothing more than an annoying distraction. It was like a stubborn pebble in my shoe, constantly irritating me and diverting my focus from what truly mattered.

With great ambitions driving me forward, I embraced the life of a workaholic sports journalist. I'd dreamed of this career for as long as I could remember, and I was determined to make it to the top. Nothing and no one could derail the carefully plotted course I had set for myself. Or so I thought.

But then, love snuck up on me when I least expected it, turning my world upside down. I found myself falling for someone who challenged my carefully constructed plans and made me question everything I thought I knew about myself. And as much as I tried to resist, I couldn't deny the magnetic pull drawing me closer to him.

As Valentine's Day approached, I reflected on how much had changed since that time when I thought love was nothing but a nuisance. Now, it is the very thing that brings color to my life.

And as I prepared for a romantic dinner with the person who had stolen my heart, I felt nothing but gratefulness for the delightful chaos he had brought into my life.

We stepped into a cozy restaurant, the aroma of delicious food enveloped us, and I felt a flutter of excitement in my stomach. Valentine's Day dinner with Rúben – it is still surreal, like something out of a cheesy rom-com.

We plopped down at our table, and Rúben dove into the menu like it was a puzzle. Couldn't help but poke fun at him.

"Can't make up your mind, huh? Let me guess, torn between the steak and the seafood pasta." I teased, a smirk playing on my lips.

He glanced up, "Actually, I was thinking of going all in and ordering the entire dessert menu. You know, for research." He joked, his laughter contagious.

After dinner and a couple drinks, we decided to head back to Rúben's place. As we walked out of the restaurant, the crisp evening air hit us. We strolled side by side, our steps matching in rhythm, exchanging playful banter along the way.

Eventually, we reached Rúben's apartment building, and he held the door open for me with a charming smile. I followed him inside. As we stepped into the elevator, the atmosphere shifted, a sense of excitement mingled with nerves. Our eyes met, and in that silent exchange, we both knew what was coming next.

The elevator ride felt like it lasted an eternity, the anticipation building with each passing floor. And when we finally reached Rúben's floor, the door to his apartment swung open, and we stepped inside.

We stood there for a moment, taking in the scene before us, the air thick with anticipation. And as Rúben turned to face me, his eyes sparkling with desire, I knew that this was where I was meant to be.

"I'm so happy." He whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

"Yeah?" I replied, a smile spreading across my face. "Well, there are plenty of ways you can show me just how happy."

"I'll do my best." He answered, his eyes twinkling with excitement as he leaned in and planted a tender kiss on my forehead.

His touch sent a shiver down my spine, igniting a fire of desire within me. I nodded, unable to find the words to express the storm of emotions raging inside me.

The atmosphere was charged with electricity, every glance and touch sending jolts of excitement through my veins. Rúben's eyes sparkled with desire as he guided me further into the room, his hand warm against mine. Our lips met in a passionate kiss, igniting a fire between us. We lost ourselves in each other's embrace. This was where I belonged – in Rúben's arms, surrounded by love and desire.

We surrendered to the intensity of our connection. Rúben's hands moved with purpose, exploring every inch of my body as if committing it to memory, each touch igniting a new wave of desire within me.

With practiced ease, he lifted me off my feet, his strong arms holding me close as he carried me towards the bedroom. I wrapped my arms around his neck, lost in the sensation of being so close to him, my heart racing with anticipation.

As he gently lowered me onto the bed, our eyes locked in a silent promise of passion and devotion.

His kisses became more intense, I could hear the rhythm of his breathing growing more rapid. His fingers curled around my hips, pulling me closer, pushing me further onto him. I whimpered as pleasure surged through me.

His hands continued their journey southward, tracing the curves of my body with skillful precision. The look in his eyes told me he was feeling the same wild need I was.

I arched my back, grinding my hips against him, letting him feel my desire. And the sensations only intensified as he teased my clit with his tongue, coaxing it into bloom. With every touch, with my body under his mercy, the room around me began to spin.

He parted my legs with his knee and buried his face between them, moaning as he kissed my inner thighs. In that moment I realized I could reach orgasm with just his lips caressing my most intimate flesh. I lost control. I cried out as ecstasy overwhelmed me.

Without warning, his mouth descended on mine again, seeking out the sweetness of my lips, inserting one finger inside of me. Then another one. I cried out in delight, pushing myself deeper onto his digits. His fingers worked relentlessly at their task. I let go of my inhibitions and gave myself over to his expert ministrations, gasping as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through me.

Finally, after several moments of total bliss, I collapsed under him, breathless and spent.

He pulled away and smiled, cupping my cheek tenderly, gazing deeply into my eyes.

My eyes were heavy as I stared into his; dark pools that bore an intensity I'd never seen before. There was a strange expression on his face, a combination of curiosity and wonder. It didn't take me long to realize that he was looking at me with complete adoration.

Cuddling with him, I could feel just how hard he was, laying on top of me. I smiled, still feeling a bit shaky after such a harsh orgasm, and placed my hand on his member. He looked at me with wonder.

"Are you sure you're ready to go on?" He asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Mmm, not really." I admitted, rubbing the bulge tentatively.

"Maybe I should give you a rest first." He leaned forward and licked my earlobe playfully.

"Oh, but I've been dreaming about this all day." I breathed into his ear.

He whispered back, "Well, who am I to deny you your dreams?"

His words sent a shiver down my spine, turning my knees weak. I reached up to pull him closer, craving the feel of his skin against mine. Then, before I knew what was happening, he grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head.

It was like he possessed me. With just one swift motion, he pushed me backwards, then pressed himself firmly against me. He let out a low moan as he lifted my leg higher, curling me around his waist, penetrating me with one forceful thrust. The sensation was incredible. He reached behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me tight.

As he slowly moved in and out of me, I heard the same soft sound of pleasure escape from both of us. I found myself getting lost in his deep brown eyes, forgetting where I was and everything else around me. My head fell back against his shoulder as he moved ever so slightly faster. It wasn't long before I came again.

But instead of slowing down or stopping, he picked up speed even more.

My heart raced as I surrendered to the whirlwind of sensations coursing through me. With each powerful thrust, I felt myself edging closer to the brink of losing my mind, my body trembling with ecstasy.

He whispered my name like a prayer, his breath hot against my ear as he drove me to the edge and beyond. I clung to him desperately, my nails digging into his skin as I rode the waves of pleasure crashing over me.

And then, in a crescendo of bliss, we reached the pinnacle together, our cries of release mingling in the air.

We lay entwined in each other's arms, spent and breathless. In that moment, there was no past, no future, only the intense connection between us, binding us together. With him by my side, I was ready to face whatever challenges life threw our way, knowing that our love would always be our guiding light.

#rúben dias #football fanfic #football fic #ruben dias #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias fic

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anincompletelist · 9 days

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fic pride friday! :D

thank you @kiwiana-writes for the tag! this is by far my favorite tag game, not only to get to see everyone else's bits that they're most proud of but also to check in with my own writing versus the LAST time I did this challenge and what's changed. thank you thank you! it's always a pleasure to read your words <3

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

Tags: I CANNOT STRESS HOW !OPEN TAG! THIS IS BUT ALSO: @wordsofhoneydew @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @msmarvelouswinchester @nocoastposts

@firenati0n @daisymae-12 @read-and-write- @magicandarchery

@affectionatelyrs @happiness-of-the-pursuit @inexplicablymine @heysweetheart-writes

@littlemisskittentoes @sparklepocalypse @getmehighonmagic @firstsprinces

@priincebutt @cricketnationrise @eusuntgratie @bigassbowlingballhead

@whimsymanaged @anchoredarchangel @captainjunglegym @thinkof-england

from How To Get Blood Stains Out of Your Linen (And Other Ways To Fall in Love):

Henry doesn’t wonder. He mourns. He grieves for things that haven’t even happened yet, for the happiness that he assumes he might’ve had if he’d been brave enough to reach out and grab it with his shaking, stained hands.

from somehow I'd get by:

They start with dinner. Watching Alex cook for him has always been somewhat of a spiritual experience but tonight, perched on the countertop with Alex between his legs, feeding him a taste of each and every ingredient, like he’s hardwired to want Henry to be a part of his routines and his hobbies and his life, it feels like even more. The first few buttons of Henry’s shirt have been undone, the heat from the stove beside them making his skin pleasantly warm. Alex’s own sleeves have been rolled up to his forearms, his tie long gone somewhere by the front door, both of their shoes with it. Henry tucks a socked foot around his calf and draws him in even closer, stealing a kiss that tastes like Saffron and the wine from the Spanish market downtown, the wooden spoon forgotten between them. It’s curious how the day just seems to tumble on, the eve ning elongated as if the minutes have doubled themselves. Somehow it still isn’t enough time with Alex, and Henry finds himself surprised once more at how he physically misses him, even when he’s close enough to reach out and touch. He’s oddly aware of the space between his rib cage, the gaps and vessels surrounding the marrow, an emptiness he’d never cared to notice before. Behind them though, his heart is wonderfully full. As if he knows the feeling, Alex never strays too far from him. Not when they finish up the food and move to the dining table to eat, not when he tugs Henry so close he’s practically on his lap, feeding him by hand and then with his own set of cutlery, sharing the same plate. The vacancies fill up with the food, wine, and Alex’s sweet words, piece by piece, a lifetime of inadequacy replaced with love instead.

from Something Borrowed, Something Blue:

(I had to try to find a non-spoilery one jsdhkjhfk)

“It’s the southern charm,” Alex argues, still a bit in shock. “It’s irresistible.” “It’s you,” Henry corrects him softly. “And I wouldn’t trade out a single thing about you. Your honesty or your energy or your words.” “But your words are important. You always think through everything you say before you say it. And mine just— just come out like David’s vomit.” Henry laughs quietly beside him. “And sometimes I can tell that I should stop but I just keep going.” “That doesn’t make your words any less important,” Henry says. “You know how to speak your mind. There’s a lot of people that don’t. It doesn’t make you too much or annoying. If anything, it means that you’re brave.” Alex snorts lightly. “If I’m brave, then what are you?” He glances sideways at Henry. “Untouchable?” “Terrified.” The breath Alex had been halfway through taking halts in his lungs. Henry’s eyes are wide and so blue underneath the moonlight, a shade Alex hasn’t seen them yet before. He rushes to take it all in, committing the look to memory— Henry here, in his space, trying to speak a language Alex understands.

from treading water in the deep, just waiting for the tides to meet:

Alex writes about forgiveness a lot, especially on the days when he mourns for the once clean, normal mark he used to have. Sometimes he thinks about how simple things could have been. The fairytale story that he’d wanted so badly as a kid, had prayed for beside his bed at night and wished for with every shooting star that passed overhead. But with every stroke of the pencil on the page his eyes fall to the skin just above where he’s holding it, the intricate pattern of the scarring tha t Alex knows he could draw accurately even in his sleep. He’s memorized it with his fingertips, with his eyes, with his lips. It’s a part of his person, so it’s a part of him, too. And Alex has never been particularly good at self love, always moving too quickly and trying to make his family and friends proud, thoughtlessly making sacrifices at his own expense if it meant that some of the burden was taken off of someone else. By the same token, he’s always given love freely. It comes as no surprise to him when he first says it, whispered against the gap in the line, right next to the jagged edge of where one end of the line has broken through his skin. He writes it in the notebooks, thinks it in his head: I love you. Two years passes and with every day, Alex realizes he loves himself a little more too.

from there were pages turned with the bridges burned (everything you lose is a step you take):

Back in his room, he locks the door behind him and walks over to his desk, everything mostly left untouched from before he’d gone to the hospital. He hasn’t been able to go through it yet, to see the evidence that he was healthy and capable of excelling at things that, at least right now, he couldn’t dream of doing. Not at the same level, anyway. Blinking harshly, he takes his lower lip into his mouth and finds the list of resolutions he’d pinned to his corkboard above it, not one of them marked off yet. There’s no way he could have predicted what this year would have brought. Gently, he takes the thumbtacks out of their spots at the corners and folds up the paper, slipping it into a drawer. Then he retrieves the packet of skittles and pins them up in its place. One day at a time, Alex thinks.

from I want you to have me like I've never been had, you get all my wild parts:

Gently, Henry presses forward into him again, lets himself appreciate the way it feels when he’s not busy chasing his own release. Alex sighs sweetly and widens his legs a bit, his fingers still achingly soft, dancing across Henry’s shoulder blade. It really, really shouldn’t be this easy. Not the dynamic, but— Alex. Henry stares at him, most likely cross-eyed for how close he is but uncaring at the moment, tracing a fingertip through Alex’s drying curls, down the slope of his nose, his top lip, the smile line carved into his cheek. Marvels at the way Alex lets him. He wants to bathe in it. Wants to keep it locked up just as much as he wants to show it off. Wants to care for it—care for him, wants to round up anyone who’s ever had the pleasure of seeing Alex this way and rip the memory from their greedy, ungrateful, undeserving hands. Keep it for himself instead, where it’s beginning to feel like it belongs.

from avalanche:

“Love is patient, love is kind,” Alex murmurs, the scripture replaying clearly in his head— el amor es paciente, es bondadoso. His grandmother's words, then his father’s, now his own, translating them from the way he learned them so that Henry can understand. He presses his lips to Henry’s jaw, solidifies them there. “It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.” El amor no es envidioso ni presumido ni orgulloso. He slides a hand over the little scar on Henry’s shoulder, touches it tenderly with his fingertips, only a fraction of the pain he’s endured. “It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.” Henry’s tears wet his cheek when he emphasizes them here; no se comporta con rudeza, no es egoísta, no se enoja fácilmente, no guarda rencor. “Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.” El amor no se deleita en la maldad, sino que se regocija con la verdad. “It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” Todo lo disculpa, todo lo cree, todo lo espera, todo lo soporta. Reaching down to fill in the gaps between Henry’s fingers with his own, Alex pulls back enough to look at him properly. Henry’s always kind of taken his breath away, but Alex can see the shift happening in real time— how every word, each passing minute that he spends here, finally where he wants to be, is recharging him. And how much of a marvel is it that where he wants to be is with Alex? Henry leaving had felt like an ending at first. The conclusion of a year long fever dream in which all of his own fears and desires had been finally recognized and tested to their limits. No matter what Henry had chosen to do in the end, he’d changed Alex for the better. The proof was all there, written in fine print for the world to see. Alex would have been okay, eventually, just knowing that. But now he can see that it hadn’t been an ending at all. All of the cracks in Henry’s shiny, practiced, impenetrable exterior are crumbling; shattered first with Henry’s valiant initial swing, the excess gently peeled away with Alex’s fingertips. It’s visible now, everywhere that he’d left his mark on Henry. Everywhere that he’d poured just as much into him as Henry had into Alex. He’s always been capable. But Alex knows, just as much as Henry hopefully does now, that sometimes it’s difficult to get past the litany of weaknesses until someone finally comes along and recognizes them for strengths instead. “El amor jamás se extingue,” he whispers against Henry’s knuckles, his own eyes blurry. “I forgave you a long time ago, amor.”

from it's so hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands:

Henry leans forward to set it aside before he seals himself further into George’s side, an arm propped behind his back as he strokes his knuckles over Alex’s cheek. George turns away to allow them a moment to themselves, but it doesn’t rid him of the intimacy of it all from his position right in the center of it, especially as Alex moves closer, his own fingers dropping to move some of the hair from George’s forehead where it’d fallen haphazardly into his eyes. It takes George even longer to find his voice again, nothing but a rasp when he summons the courage to insert himself into their familiar back and forth. “Why are you doing this?” Henry halts whatever he’d been about to say, dropping his gaze down to George in between them. “We take care of each other,” he says. “Hen has a lot of days like this too,” Alex adds from his other side, his thumb stroking soothingly over George’s brow. “We’re glad you came, George.” His mother would have a fit if she could see him now, taking comfort he isn’t owed from men he shouldn’t want it from. But Henry wipes his tears with the back of his hand and Alex begins singing the dulcet tune of a Spanish lullaby and George feels, perhaps for the first time in his life, like he belongs.

#my fic #tag games

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gojosbf · 3 months

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Sorry, but I need to say something I've been thinking about for a while. I found geto's death forcing. 1.he loses to a boy with no experience and the power of ''love''. 2.he was stronger and had more knowledge and experience than the boy yuta. 3. It seems that the author just wanted to get rid of geto so that this annoying villain Kenjaku could come. 4. In my opinion, Geto is the best villain. I don't understand why the author didn't want to continue with him. 5. His death was forced because Saturo already had a change in character and personality. What I'm trying to say is that in the film, Satura is already different, he's no longer that immature young man. 6. the serious work was much more dramatic if geto had survived saturo blow he would have become stronger and returned as a villain again with sukuna. Sorry if it's big, but I have these doubts that such a good and well-constructed character had a horrible ending and very little.

I have mixed feelings about this anon but first I'd clarify things point by point for you and then give my opinion if possible

1. Yuuta Okkotsu has a special grade curse, the queen of curses Rika, the power of "love" you speak tho it might sound cliché does fit here well and it was explained in the manga that love is considered the most twisted curse (if you saw the movie you'd have seen that gojo said this line to him too).

2. Yes sure geto had more experience and knowledge but yuuta is an acclaimed prodigy, his cursed technique is mimicry, rika was so scaringly powerful even before she fully evolved, geto KNEW that if he absorbed rika he'd have everything needed to form his "ideal world". He wasn't just any nobody who managed to get lucky.

3. Okay now here there are two reasons and I am trying my best to find words to explain it, yuuta was meant to be the original mc of jjk, he is the op character. Geto wanted rika (as I mentioned in the previous point) to accomplish his dream so if geto won that battle the story as whole would've taken a very different turn, we wouldn't need itadori and the whole first years and their stories. Remember how I said yuuta was supposed to the actual mc? Yeah that's were gege actually made changes so he could make a better and elaborate plot.

4. Geto Suguru was infact an amazing villain, yes. But you've also got to understand that he was sympathetic towards jujutsu sorcerers, he'd never risk harming them (his own last words being "I never hated anyone from jjk high") unless they're in his way. He had to die because we needed someone who'd go all out, no mercy to anyone, no regard and sympathy for anyone and that's exactly why we needed someone like kenjaku, who was equally powerful, evil and not shy to bring hell.

5. Geto's death had nothing to do with "changing gojo's personality", that change already happened after hidden inventory and premature death arc. His death was an important decision for future plot points (explaining why yuuji was special, sealing the strongest etc).

6. This is where I fully give my opinion, sure Suguru would've come back as stronger and even more powerful villain but would he have achieved what kenjaku did? Geto Suguru that we knew would choose any other route than sealing Gojo, he literally did not even try to protect himself and gave gojo a chance to kill him (during kfc breakup), he never attacked jujutsu high until yuuta happened, he worked with rejected sorcerers and never paired up with evil curses like hanami, jogo and mahito. So, to put it simply it was important part of plot that geto first turned evil and then died, that shaped so many important arcs of the manga and it was well thought out for long run. Sure it's sad and frustrating but that was one good writing move on gege's part and there's no denying that.

#okay that got super long but I hope this was clear enough I tried ny best to not confuse facts while explaining #i really suggest reading the manga!! that'd clarify so many of your doubts ngl #imagine me talking about good writing from gege now lol #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #ask #gojo satoru #geto suguru #satosugu #stsg

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imthetunnelunderoceanblvd · 1 year

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HII!!! I LOVE YOUR WRITING SOO MUCH AND I WAS HAPPY WHEN I SAW UR REQS WERE OPEN!!!!!. i was wondering if you could possibly maybe write something with lyle and/or quaritch (preferably quaritch if you don't wanna do both but either is fine!!!) with a reader who cries when she is yelled at? it would be nice if the reader was a human!fem!reader!!

i'm thinking him (meaning lyle or quaritch) and reader are in a heated argument and he starts to raise his voice at her and she just gets all upset and scared bc her lover is so much bigger than her and shes just scared that he could snap her in half at any given time so he apologizes for yelling at her and snuggling or something with her after to make up for it :)

it almost worked.

quaritch x human!fem!reader

1.8k words

warnings: mentions of sex, hurt no comfort, angst, insecurities, hate feelings, choking, no mentions of y/n.

opening your eyes to a new body, a body you're not used to, is weird but also relieving; that's what quaritch felt: relief, weirdness, disgust.

he was disgusted with the way he looked—his skin, his eyes, his ears—and he found it funny, funny that he's one of the 'savages' he's always hated.

he didn't expect to see all his friends, and especially you, an old friend and lover. an old person quaritch fell in love with. seeing you for the first time filled his brain with memories—memories of you and human quaritch.

now, this quaritch, the one standing in front of you, was not the one you fell in love with, and you are aware of that, but seeing him after years of missing him made your heart ache. quaritch had a hard time being around you; every time he sees you, he's hit with a train of emotions and memories. he almost felt bad for you.

"i thought you went back to earth."

you looked up at the source of the voice as if you had no idea whose voice this is. "i did go back," you hummed.

"why'd you come back?"

"that isn't important. why are you here anyway?" you said, the last part clearly annoyed as you opened your drawer and shuffled through it.

"i came here to talk; you got a minute to spare, f'me?" you once again hummed before you found your lipgloss and that tiny mirror you always kept with you. you opened the tube and squeezed the product out before swiping it over your lips. "i've always liked the way your lips looked after you put the shiny stuff on."

"i appreciate that," you said in a cold tone.

"what did you want to talk about?" you said you were resting your cheek on the back of your hand.

"us, i mean, i know'm not quaritch, i'm not that person, we do share the same memories, but - i can't help but feel strong feelings for you, can't get you outta my head, now, i repeat, i'm not that person, i know how he treated you, but we can pick it up again and make it work, whaddya say, sugar?"

you got up and placed your hands on the table. "you can't ask this; you can't expect me to forgive you or come running back to you like a little girl trying to find her way through the night. i have changed and moved on, and so should you." you got up from your chair and walked towards the door. a tight grip on your arm stopped you and made you wince in pain. "let go," you said in a harsh tone.

"you are going to sit your ass down there on that chair and talk to me." when you glared up at him, his grip tightened, and you whined. "did i make myself clear?" it came out more like a statement than a question.

you looked up at him with wide eyes. "you're hurting me; stop." he clenched his jaw at your words and let go. "you're not a good person, miles," you said, shaking your head. "please let me go; i can't do this anymore. doesn't it bring you enough satisfaction knowing that i'm with you hurting in the same base?" he had a stern look on his face now, looking down at you. "i didn't ask you to come here. if you didn't want to see me this bad, then why'd you come here knowing that i'd be here, hm?" he raised his eyebrows, his lips forming a tight line. "answer me, goddammit!" he yelled at you, making you jerk in fear.

"still like old times, huh? still getting scared easily. "y'know, sweetheart, i've always liked that side of you, the scared side of you," he chuckled. and a dark and quiet chuckle. a chuckle that made you shiver in fear. "you can't even look me in the eyes; you never looked me in the eyes when we argued." his hand was on your face, caressing your cheek as you stood there, totally frozen and unable to move. was it fear, or was it need? the question swam around in your head. you wrapped your hand around his wrist, your fingers not even close to touching. you jerked his hand away, forcing his hand off of your face.

"stay away from me," you said, your voice small and close to breaking. that amused him, knowing he still had that kind of effect on you. "say that you don't love me anymore, and i'll leave you alone. "say it right to my face right now, right here." he commanded you as if you were one of his soldiers. "say it!" he yelled at you once again, making you flinch and widen your eyes more.

he knew you weren't good with yelling, yet he still yelled at you.

you'd had enough. you had no idea what had happened to you. you were like a volcano waiting to explode. and that's what you did. you exploded. "i hate you," you said quietly, and he didn't even hear you.

"what was that?" "i hate you!" you screamed this time.

his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you. "watch what you're saying, girl; watch your words. you don't want me to get you crying like the crybaby you are, right?" when you didn't say anything, he smirked. "thought so."

you looked up at him and tsked, a smirk forming on your lips. you pointed your finger at him, rapidly but harshly poking at his chest. "i. hate. you. i hate you. i fucking hate you. i hate paz. i'm so happy she's dead. i'm so happy that you're dead. although you're standing right here, in front of me, you are dead. "you are dead to me; you're dead to me. do you hear me, you sick motherfucker?" you've started hitting his chest with both hands now.

"i said watch what yo-"

"you watch what you say to me; i am not hesitant to stick a knife down your throat and watch you choke on your own blood. i hate you. i always have. from the moment you started screwing stupid paz, i started hating you. i hate you, i hate paz, and i hate your stupid team, especially fucking lyle, that sick, retarded fuck. i hate that nasty kid you and paz had. god, how satisfied i'd be to watch you die." he was too stunned to talk; his mouth was open, his eyes narrow, and you just chuckled at how stupid he looks.

"we had everything we needed back on earth. but you wanted more; you never wanted my love, you never wanted me; you just wanted a chick to screw, to bend over whatever you found and fuck them to feel good about yourself, to feel how great and strong of a colonel you are. fuck you!" your words were venomous. he couldn't bear your voice anymore; his hand wrapped around your small neck, squeezing the air out of your lungs.

"well, guess what? i ain't that crazy about you either." he slightly lifted you off the ground, making your face turn red before letting you down harshly. you landed on your buttocks with a thud.

"i hate you! i hate you all so much! i hate you so much!" you said crawling to him before you pressed your teeth down on the flesh of his leg, and he let out a loud grunt and kicked you. you sat down on the floor with your hands on your face, wiping the tears, sniffling the snot, and the tears making your face wet and gross. he felt bad for what he did; the only thing he was able to do was stare down at you.

"you promised... you said—you—you promised that you'd never hurt me—you promise—" your words were cut off with yet another sob. you sniffled some more before getting up. "i always used to sit down on that stupid couch where we used to cuddle and wonder what went wrong, but then i realized that it was me. if i showed you more love, if i loved you more, maybe we would be together now, on earth, with a couple of kids." you wiped your tears. "i should've learned to let you stay. we should've gone back to florida—i remember seeing you sun bathing every morning—and" you sniffled and cried some more, more tears rolling down your cheeks that you didn't bother wiping anymore.

"your body is becoming darker and darker, making you look terrific. i remember when we first met. it was so clear to me that you were the one for me, but then again, you didn't want me all the time. i am mature now—more mature than i ever was—and i am letting you go today, letting you go fully."

you stood up, and he was quick to pull you into a hug. your small body fits just right. you didn't hug back; you knew better. you knew that if you did, you wouldn't be able to turn around and walk away, so you did the right thing. "i'm sorry, cupcake," he said before you tried to push him away from you.

"i'm sorry, i never meant to make you feel that way. i never meant to hurt you." you were hearing the words that you so desperately needed to hear—the words you were dying from the inside to hear—yet it only made you sob more. you finally had enough courage to walk away.

"i wish you all the best, really. "i'm so happy you're here." you said this and walked to the door, tears running from your eyes like water from faucets; it was as if your eyes were the faucets.

"don't..." he whispered as you shut the door behind you.

now here's the thing: you loved him, you loved him, and you loved him; how could you not? he was a great person in your life—a person that you don't regret meeting. you don't even blame him for cheating on you with paz; how could you when you love him so much? you were always making excuses for his actions. and you still are.

and here's the thing that is shocking: he loved you; he did, but he was too cool for a heart like yours, and his eyes were too electric and full of life for boring, tired eyes like yours. his lips are too good for chapped ones like yours. his love is too warm for cold hearts like yours.

his neglection to you on pandora is too cool for you.

the taste of his sweaty thumb inside your mouth is too good for you.

the electric shocks of his touches are too good for skin like yours.

you were boring; you were aware of that, and now you were stuck here on pandora, where nobody wanted you. you were going to live alone for the rest of your life—no chest like his to lay your head on, no lips like his to kiss your salty tears. just you and your body that's been painted blue.

#miles quaritch x reader #that’s sad #but that’s okay.#colonel miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch x you #quaritch x you #recombinant miles quaritch x reader #quaritch x reader #recom quaritch x reader

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franki-lew-yo · 4 months

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inb4 nicer post than my last one:

I saw Chicken Run 2. It's pretty cute. Definitely not as big a letdown or wasted like a Pixar sequel is.

Keep in mind I think I'm one of the few people in existence who's never itching to get sequels and continuations of my fandoms. I never wanted a Finding Nemo sequel and Finding Dory broke my heart in the worst way; by having unlimited potential and squandering it and the characters I love.

Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget doesn't do that, happy to say. Mostly it's just underwhelming.

It's weird. I'm definitely not a better writer than these professional writers, I just find myself going "why didn't you have the characters do/say THIS instead? It would still be cinematic and in character". I'd have to rewatch to give you a play-by-play of exactly what I mean. Overall I'd call that a nitpick. Bigger criticisms, especially when this is a sequel to a 20 y old film with fans who've seen in hundreds of times and know the details:

Hated how they retconed the chicks at the end of the original. You Thanos snapped Bunty and Fowler and possibly some of Rocky and Ginger's children. Also, those little 100% chicks were adorable. I'm okay with Molly being Ginger's only chick, but she'd look adorable as one of these:

Another distracting continuity thing: Rocky gets upset that he can't crow anymore. Even though...he was never a crower. That was Fowler's job. I remember. I get that he's a rooster but my point is that was never a thing Rocky did in the original and that should be been better established as what he does now on the island. Put it among the lines that I think could have very easily been slipped in to make it more digestible; you could have had Rocky say to Ginger, "you gotta let me crow! That's, like, my thing now", implying that he's turned to being the island's crow-er to cope with abandoning his lone-free-ranger lifestyle. See? Small changes of dialogue that can imply so much and give you an idea of all the things you need to know in this newer story.

Even though Fowler did technically do something in the end most of the movie felt annoyed and just there. Really would have liked it if he and Babs were back up and helpful some other way while it was mostly Mac, Bunty, and the rats who went in to save Molly and Rocky. Idk. Maybe it's hard to be the absolute banger of a convenience that is the green aliens and ' the claaaaaw' in Toy Story 3-- needed to utilize him better for the gag and the story is what I'm trying to get at.

Rocky and Ginger's voices were distracting. It's odd because Rocky's is definitely the more noticeably different one that you have to get used to, but I am 100% replacing him considering who was his og voice. I'm mostly mad that in order to free Rocky of the curse they had to take the part away from Julia Sawalha.

This is probably going to controversial here but, um, I really wish Mrs. Tweedy wasn't the Mrs. Tweedy in this. I think it'd be a funnier, more of a "here we go again" gag that they actually find some way to contrive the villain of this movie to be Mrs. Tweedy's relative that just happens to look the same, sound the same AND have the same bloodlust for chickens. Like, the gag is that all of Mrs. Tweedy's family is Officer Jenny/Nurse Joy who are all identical to one another but they're also the Cruella of birds and all have a bumbling husband. Even though it's explained how she got here, it just kind of takes the teeth out of her original defeat and even her one in this film.

I kind of wish Ginger had stayed "colarred" for a longer stretch of time and the rest of the crew had to save her. I feel like Molly being placed in her mother's shoes would have been more dramatic and made the situation all the more dire and dependent on the other characters to think up a plan. Ginger being unable to do anything or "broken" would change it up a bit, provided she still makes the final save in the end.

That pop song during the 'Molly-growing-up' montage was bad and didn't suit the time period and vibe of the movie. It really took me out. Just play that in the end credits.

Mr. Fry never appeared again in his creepy chicken man suit and I kind of really liked the idea of this creeeeeepy farmer basically wanting to be friends with the chickens while dressing as one because he thinks he's more connected to them that way. But no that's just for one scene.

I was also expecting Mr. Fry to turn on Mrs. Tweedy as he noticed her obviously flirting with Reginald. Having the ending twist be that he assists the chickens in their escape or lives among them in a horrific chicken suit with the chickens taking advantage of this would have been right at home.

that's all I got.

#chicken run #chicken run dawn of the nugget #chicken run 2 #aardman #franki's features

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ashurzs · 10 months

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episode four; go fuck urself

"come in!" tartaglia yells from his bed, his eyes still on his phone.

"hi." a small voice greets the taller male. scara locks the door behind him before walking near to tartaglia's bed, sitting himself on the floor as he stares off. "soo, tell me about it"

tartaglia sits himself next to the shorter one as he busies his hands with the cap. though he's ready to listen closely to what scara has to say.

"i don't know dude.."

'that's how it always starts' tartaglia smiles as he thinks to himself before popping the cover off, getting glasses from the bedside table.

"it's so fucking annoying, i literally couldn't despise her more than i do now even if my life depended on it, yet i still find myself not being enough whenever she criticizes me."

scaramouche grabs the cup that was offered to him by his childhood friend and downs it in one go. he wips his lips before he continues, staring at the wall infront of them. "she makes me feel like i'm never fucking enough"

"i'd say you're more than"

scaramouche lools up at the orange haired male, his eyebrows furrowing with a snarl. "what? are you patronizing me?"

"no, i'm being for real."

scaramouche wants to punch his face, because if this was some sick joke by tartaglia, it's not fucking funny. but there isn't a smile. and behind his lifeless eyes, there isn't any malicious intent. "dude- you're literally vice president at one of the most prestigious universities in teyvat-"

tartaglia quickly chugs his drink before pouring another for himself and the other boy before continuing, "no- this literally IS the most prestigious. and plus you beat the other three candidates from last year. like- what was his name.. venti.?"

tartaglia shakes head, "but what i'm trying to say is that- you've been amazing dude. but because she's your mom of course your still looking for validation from her."

scaramouche's lips push themselves into a thin line hearing those words come from tartaglia, he doesn't know what to say. but the silence doesn't stop tartaglia from saying one more thing. "and take it from me, ajax,

i think you're doing great kuni."

'ajax..' scaramouche scoffs at the use of tartaglia's birth name before downing another for the night. yet while the other is busy pouring another drink, scaramouche can't help but feel a small smile form.

"you smiling there?" tartaglia snickers as he sees the other's smile immediately fade and change into a frowm. "go fuck yourself"

prev | masterlist | next

smau in where scaramouche and reader are both the vice president and secretary of famous teyvat university! chaos ensues as they find it really hard to work with eachother,, will they be able to put their highschool past behind them? or will they never give a new chance to the person they once called their own?

#HATE TO LOVE YOU - 🪻#asher's works !!#scaramouche fics #scaramouche smau #scara x reader #genshin smau #genshin impact smau #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche

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keysmashingfantasies · 1 year

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hi !! could you possibly do a chishiya angst/fluff fic of his s/o (reader) in the borderlands being a citizen? and him finding out once the second stage begins? thank you !

i sure can! thank you for requesting and feedback is always welcome! i hope you enjoy, i liked how this one turned out.

a/n: it's pretty neutral, although i chose the Queen of Diamonds game. if you'd like me to change for the Jack of Diamonds, you let me know, it's just a quick adjustment.

Chishiya was a bit annoyed. He had been running all day since he got separated from the rest of the group, finding food and shelter. Maybe one or two things to make weapons. Eventually, of course, he deduced that the best way to avoid the King of Spades for now was to participate in games. And in the process, clear more face cards to be able to go back.

Diamonds. He saw the zeppelin of the Jack of Diamonds blow up, and he had cleared both the Jack of Hearts and the King of Diamonds. So this was the last diamonds game available, and Chishiya would play his specialties for as long as he could.

He faltered when he saw the building of the game. 'Sakurazaka University Hospital'. Where he was completing his residency.

He got a cellphone and waited. Not long after, him and other 3 players were notified by a robotic voice coming off of one of the TVs in the large waiting room. Players: Please meet the Queen of Diamonds in the laboratory.

Not even wasting time checking the map provided on his phone, Chishiya got there, being the first to walk in. He instantly shivered at the cold temperature, no longer being used to it. He approached one of the six tables. There were several diagrams of organs displayed, all connected to each other. From what he could see, they were fake, unlike the ones displayed in the walls. It was the research lab, Chishiya remembered staying late in that very room to study. Next to the diagrams, several vials of medicine and a large book on one of the tables. Catalog of substances and their effect on homeostasis. The other players gagged at the conserved organs in jars lining the walls but Chishiya was terribly intrigued and, if it wasn't inappropriate, he would even be happy. This was a game he could beat for sure, almost like it was made for him specifically. His breath hitched.

'If you could design a game, what would you do?', you said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Already a bit drunk from all the liquor available on the Beach.

'Hm... I don't know. I can't imagine myself planning a game. But it'd have to be something I'd be able to pass. Maybe a game in a hospital. That'd be right up my alley', he said.

'With organs and stuff?', you were looking up at him in a way that no one ever had, eyes a bit lidded and a gentle smile. It was making his heart race.

"Welcome, players", a voice Chishiya knew all too well echoed around the room and he lifted his head to see you walking from one of the several doors connected to the laboratory. You were there, in all your glory. You didn't wear your Beach clothes anymore, and although your eyes were cunning like a fox in a den of chickens, your smile was kind. Your eyes softened when you met his, and your smile grew for a fraction of a second. Chishiya knew what message you were trying to send. 'Hi again. I miss you. I'll explain everything, promise'. He didn't knew if he believed anymore. But he didn't have time to dwell on the bitterness of being abandoned yet again, because one of the screens lit up.

Game: Broken Homeostasis

Each player will be assigned a vital organ and several substances. Like in the human body, the vital organs are all connected to each other directly. On each round, it's mandatory that the players have to give some substance to their designated organ. The game objective is to keep your organ alive while destroying the others. Once in every round, the players will be able to consult the catalog of substances and their collateral damages. Good luck.

The game was over sooner than later. Chishiya and her cleared the game in maybe five rounds. He could feel your eyes on him all the time, with the same kind of nervous energy you had when you were both on the Beach and had yet to talk. How could you be the mastermind behind all of this?

Chishiya got closer as the game ended. Still shaken up from the previous diamonds game he was in, he kept his eyes on you, avoiding looking at the other players that now were laying dead on the floor.

"Hi", you said. Chishiya wanted to smile at you. He was growing exponentially concerned after you vanished after the Beach fire. But he was also hurt. You lied to him, made him care about you and then vanished in the night. He felt abandoned, and above all, stupid for even feeling this way.

"Hello", he said, trying to sound cold but his voice was trembling.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions for me. You can ask. Now that the game is over, I'll tell you anything. Truthfully, this time", you said. Although you actually never lied to Chishiya, you weren't going to deny him the right to feel cheated. In your several late night talks, you told him everything. Your previous life, your aspirations, your fears. The only thing you didn't tell him was that you had accepted Mira's offer. And if you had known you would meet him soon after, you would've told her to go fuck herself.

"Why me? You infiltrated the Beach to gather information. Shouldn't you have seduced Hatter? Or Aguni or Niragi or anyone else? I'm an executive member, sure. But why me specifically. You'd probably make a better match with Kuzuryu. You were both infiltrated, after all", he was harsh, spitting the words at you like he wanted you to feel them hitting your skin. He didn't actually hold a vendetta against Kuzuryu but you? He cared for you deeply and he was hurt. But he was still in pain when your eyes started to water.

"Chishiya...", tears were streaming quickly down your face like a dam had been broken. You quickly wiped them away and drew a deep breath, composing yourself. You weren't about to guilt trip him. "I deserved that. I didn't get close to you with ulterior motives. I'm human, just like you. Just like everyone here. I wouldn't have become a citizen if I knew I'd meet you. Leaving you back in the Beach was the hardest thing I ever had to do. That's why I did all of this. That's why I chose this place to have my game and why I had to pull the strings and designed specifically for us to win. Together. I meant everything I said to you. I love you and I can't live in a world where you don't exist. I'd kill this King of Spades with my bare hands if the rules of the citizens didn't apply to me. Please, you have to understand. You changed everything for me", you sobbed. "The stakes are higher than ever for me. I'll do anything in my power to keep you alive".

"Your game was about justice", he said. No longer his voice held the cutting edge, now low and soft. How he used to speak to you before. Your hands were trembling when he held them. You looked up at him, eyes red and leaking, a trembling bottom lip. You looked absolutely devastated. But your eyes were the same. You loved him. "About how... Individual people can ruin things for everyone. A perfect organism in balance. And if something goes wrong, and one thing dies... The others go too", he dropped one of your hands and pointed at one of the closest organ diagrams to you, a liver absolutely ruined by another player, who accidentally injected it with the wrong dosage of their medicine of choice. "You wanted to know if it's possible to stay alive... Good in a corrupted and crumbling organism. You think you're a failing organ", you dropped your head in shame. He could read you like a book, always could.

He quickly caught your chin with his hand, lifting your head up to meet your eyes. "You're not a failing organ. You're not a failure of a person. Not to me, anyway", he said.

"You're not one either. I knew that even if I hadn't tailored this game for you, you'd be able to do it flawlessly. And I'd lay down my life for yours. Gladly", he saw the determined look in your face, one that he knew too well. He knew you meant it. Cupping your cheek in his hand, he bent down his head to kiss you until you were both breathless, squeezing your hand in his tightly.

"That won't be necessary", he said, panting, his forehead against yours. Pulling back to give you one of those all-knowing looks of his. "We're getting out of here together".

#alice in borderland fic #aib x reader #alice in borderland imagine #chishiya x reader #shuntaro chishiya x reader #alice in borderland x reader

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thegeminisage · 4 days

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whoops, i almost forgot about the star trek update. tuesday we watched tng's "firstborn" and "bloodlines" and last night we watched ds9's "the wire" (honorific)

firstborn (tng):

i was actually bracing for this one to suck ass bc everyone says worf is a bad dad. and i dont think he is!!! like, it doesn't come as easily to him as it does to sisko, and he sometimes forgets to be gentle or kind with alexander because he's so laser focused on how things SHOULD be he forgets to the importance of taking others' feelings into account, but that's how he is ALL THE TIME with EVERYONE not just his kid. considering the circumstances i'd say he's doing well

before we get started, GREAT cameo from the duras sisters. i was initially really annoyed with their tit windows but im becoming rather fond

i really liked "the family protector guy "k'mter" at first because he said all the right things to alexander...like, it's scary not being able to defend yourself, etc. then he also was a dick to alexander and i was really exasperated...but then he IS alexander so that totally fixes it. he's angry with himself and conflicted and just wants a HUG FROM HIS DAD and that FIXED it!!! like when he said "nobody will look at you and see a human you are alone on this ship" initially it felt like racism but it being like, not quite self-loathing but just bitter experience...that's actually so clever

this is the only episode where they brought up alexander's mom kind of hating ""klingon stuff"" and how that could possibly have negatively impacted him and it only got two lines of dialogue but still. i think it's really damning that she hated her own heritage and also brought her kid up to hate it and now he's sort of out here...pretending to be human, almost, to the point where he doesn't want to participate in hsi own culture or even bond with his own father (a klingon). like it sucks so bad for him

i was afraid that the plot twist would be "k'mter talks alexander into wanting to be a warrior after all just when worf realizes he doesn't have to be" which would have been sad but a real "oh shit" of an ending. mixed feelings about them not doing that but i understand why they wanted to properly wrap things up for s7

i almost forgot but rare w for picard for bending the rules a little bit to give worf time to go to the klingon festival with his kid. credit where it is due

bloodlines (tng):

i have never been so BITTERLY DISAPPOINTED.......................

they gave. picard. an affair baby.

THEY GAVE HIM AN AFFAIR BABY!

what have i been saying since farpoint! he has an affair baby! AND THEY GAVE HIM ONE

AND THEN TOOK IT AWAY

what was the POINT OF THE EPISODE

if that's not his fucking affair child

pussy ass little FUCKS couldnt commit to changes...

i can't even remember what else happened in this episode i was so disappointed about this plot twist

oh yeah actually i do remember picard made a bald joke which i THINK was the only time he's done that in seven seasons? i think the only time ANYONE'S done it? please correct me if i am wrong but i was so shocked it got a big laugh out of me. also a rare w for picard. if he made bald jokes more often i'd hate him less maybe

the wire (ds9)

ooohhhhhhhhhhhh my god. oh my GOD. let's fucking...get into it

i rly thot garak was just a guy but not only is he a former assassin he's a current junkie. A JUNKIE! he's just like me fr

also, he can act? like that scene where he was withdrawing and saying horrible shit to julian......i was on the edge of my seat.

i love that he gave us 3 different stories about how he got kicked out. i'm gonna be honest, i looked it up, and apparently we never find out the truth? that is a bold fucking move. a daring choice. we, like julian, will never have any certainty. like, sure, i WANT to believe he released some kids from being tortured, but it's also equally as likely that he killed civilians or did a number of other horrible things

like, the fact that he can lie about it even while under significant distress.........king. like you could say oh that's the true one because that's the one where he was physically unwell but he also referred to "elim" in that one which gives it the ring of a potential falsehood

julian forgiving him anyway, even after all the horrible stuff he said, even after being physically ATTACKED (WHICH WAS SCARY!!! i was scared of him!!!!!) for "whatever he did," just because garak said "i need to know someone forgives me"..........AUGHGHGH JESUS CHRIST

THE FACT THAT HE WON'T TALK ABOUT IT. he won't tell even US what he did. eliot spencer core actually. i am beside myself about it all

maybe he's right and it is all true. maybe he destroyed a ship and framed a friend AND let some kids go. it's literally none of business though like he's not gonna tell us

anyway, i heard the term "brain implant" and nearly died on the spot, so 10/10 episode

honestly, they should have just upgraded this guy to a regular. he is so good

NEXT TIME: tng's "emergence" and ds9's "crossover" AND YES I KNOW THAT'S MIRRORVERSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#personal #star trek blogging #tng lb #ds9 lb

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heyidkyay · 10 months

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

Part Twenty-Four - Part A

A/n: PLEASE READ!

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

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

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

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

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

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We’d been as thick as thieves since.

“She still not down yet?”

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

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

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

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

“It’s a ten minute walk, J.”

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

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

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

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

“Look, Y/n,”

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

“For the last half hour, yeah.”

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

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

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

“Jaim-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oi!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Vicky!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ha.” Jamie replied with a forced smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seattle.” He said.

My brows lifted in surprise, “Like America?”

He hummed his ascent.

“Wow. What’s it like over there?”

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

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

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

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

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

This music business was already proving to be difficult.

…

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

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

“Sod off, would you?”

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

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

“Nine times out of ten it does though.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“’S nothing, Matt.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thought you said I could have it?”

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

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

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

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

“You came!”

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

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

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

“Alright, mate. I’m Hann.”

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When can you start?”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It all came to a head one band practice though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, how you liking school?”

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

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

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

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

My eyebrows rose at that. “Oh yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Only George beat him to it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was shaken.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I withheld a sigh. For fucks sake, Matty.

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

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

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

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

“‘Course.”

He left it at that.

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

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

“Um, yeah. Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aren’t we all?”

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

“Yeah.” I said quietly instead.

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

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

George gazed down at me, “‘Spose.”

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

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

“Fair.” I chuckled.

“What about you?”

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

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

George hummed. “Hold you to it.”

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still.

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

I inhaled, in and out. Out then in.

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

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

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

No.

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

But you should know better by now, mum.

“Stop! Julio, stop please!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Steven!”

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

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

“The fuck do you want?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n?”

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

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

“Fucking hell, what, what h-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She ever hurt you?”

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

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

I let that sink in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s okay. Just, didn’t expect it.”

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

…

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

“Don’t own them.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I snorted.

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

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

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

Vicky giggled to herself, “Kinky.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Prick!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, miss.”

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

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

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

…

Jamie Taylor’s parties were always something to remember.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, hey! There she is!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How you lads enjoyin’ the party then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jaim?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

I wouldn’t say that but, “I ‘spose.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My brain short-circuited.

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

Shit. Jamie liked me.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What not even a cymbal-banging monkey?”

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

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

“Pig.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I hummed, “Yeah, him.”

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

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

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

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

“You’re being pretty vague here.”

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

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

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

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

Ross hummed when I paused for a breath.

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

“Right…”

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

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

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

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

I frowned. “What was?”

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

“Ross!” I exclaimed, in utter disbelief.

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

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

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

I stared back at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

Ross shot me another look, smirking all the while.

Oh, shit.

Part B>

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theladyofbloodshed · 4 months

Note

isn’t there a moment of feyre feeling guilty about buying presents for the holidays in Acofas because there are still things that need to be dealt but elain talked to her about it? she is written to be guilty about having luxeries.

There are a few lines in acofas where Feyre says it feels excessive.

Opening the floppy front cover, it revealed page after page of beautiful, thick paper. All blank. “A sketchbook,” he said. “Just for you.” “It’s beautiful.” It was. Simple, yet exquisitely made. I would have picked it for myself, had such a luxury not seemed excessive.

and

“We have everything we need,” I admitted to Elain. “Buying presents feels excessive.” “It’s their tradition, though,” Elain countered, her face still flushed with the cold. “One that they fought and died to protect in the war. Perhaps that’s the better way to think of it, rather than feeling guilty. To remember that this day means something to them. All of them, regardless of who has more, who has less, and in celebrating the traditions, even through the presents, we honor those who fought for its very existence, for the peace this city now has.”

Then after that, Feyre is like you're right and they go shopping.

The thing that annoys me is that Feyre knows exactly how it is to be starving and have to do what is necessary to survive which is why she bonded so well with Cassian. Both of them now have more money than they can ever spend but don't feel a pervading sense of guilt or need to help Illyrians. We see Cassian buying some winter clothes but that's not enough when they are in the inner circle and capable of being the catalysts to change.

They've just gone through a war where many people have lost their homes, their belongings, the people they love etc and I'd feel more guilty about that - that she can help those people with the vast wealth Rhysand's family amassed. But because they're mostly in mortal/spring, they're Tamlin's problem.

Rhysand’s smile deepened. “I had a feeling jewels wouldn’t be high on your list of desired gifts.” It was true. Beautiful as they were, I had little interest in them. And had plenty already.

I find that last line so unnecessary. Btw did I mention I'm filthy rich? I don't need to worry about jewels now because I've got loads.

#anon asks

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