#and the famous one of the final five left because she wanted to be a actress

[fancylala4]

Heejin and E-Z (and Miyoun to an extent since she was in the group the year they debuted) were so strong. They stayed in baby vox from the beginning to the end and dealt with DR bs for all those years. They don’t get enough praise for staying and dealing with all the issues the group had to go through.

[igotanidea]

Family rules: Damian Wayne x reader

Christmas bingo day 23 : midnight kiss

The first time she truly understood the meaning of the proverb heart over mind was on a school trip in September.

He was just standing by the wall, doing nothing except staring into space with those piercing green eyes.

Such pretty eyes

Such devilish, snake eyes.

Acting like he was who knows who.

Arrogant, cold, keeping his distant, rough, self-absorbed, not caring about anything or anyone.

Just like his father.

Damian Wayne.

***

Y/N had the misfortune of being born into a technological company family. Obviously she didn’t know it when she was a kid, but the word Wayne was inflected in her home on all occasions.

Wayne this, Wayne that...

 sort of spell or- more likely - a curse.

Damn it!

She was 12 when she gathered enough courage to ask her father what this was about. A mistake she only made once, cause even the mention of the Bruce Wayne and his famous, profitable company made her father see red.

That's how she found about the on-going competition between her father and Damian's one.

Obviously it was not like she was excluded from family rules and allowed to live in a bubble. Y/N was supposed to hate the entire Wayne family, the progenitor, his adopted kids and everyone who even came close to them. The only blood son included.

The only problem?

Said blood son was attending the same school, the same class as Y/N was. Which meant a lot of time spend together.

And you just command a teenager to do something and hope they'll listen. It's pretty much impossible, if not foolish belief.

***

In her defence - she tried.

She really tried to hate Damian.

But for five years, his name has been coming to her from every way on every occasion.

Wayne this, Wayne that.

Damn it!!

She could tear her hair out in utter desperation. How was she supposed to not think about him when all the world seemed to be dead set to remind her of his existence.

Of his stupid, unnecessary existence.

With his stupid, idiotic smile and his ridiculous handsome face and infuriating behaviour and the tendency to just be mean all the fucking time.

The internal fight between what she felt and how she acted made her clench her fist and grit her teeth every time Damian came into her view. The little bastard has been doing it on purpose just to see her flustered and enraged. It was like he was trying this best to show his superiority and just rub it into her face.

„L/N.”

„The hell you want Wayne?”

„Will you be attending this year’s New Year's Eve?”

„Will I what now?” she raised her gaze, unable to hide the confusion.

„want me to spell it out for you or something”?”

„Hm.” she muttered „I had no idea you knew how to do that Wayne.”

„I;m only telling you because I know you have problems with reading.”

„Clearly you have a problem with understanding simple things.”

„What I understand is that your father was left out when the invitations were being send. Are you finally going bankrupt”

„You little piece of-!” before she could stop herself her palm met with his cheek with a loud slap.

Shit.

He got exactly what he wanted. Provoked her and got the awaited reaction. She exposed herself, cause acting so dramatically only proved her contradictory, violent emotions he evoked in her.

„Nice one. Didn’t think you had it in you.” he wiped the little drop of blood she drew with her nails.

„Trust me I had it in me ever since you invaded the class.”

„I’ll let you make it even when you invade Wayne Manor for the party.”

„Though you said my family wasn’t invited?”

„It’s a charitable thing to open the door for the poor. I’ll see to it personally.”

„Such a generosity on your part, Mr. Wayne.” she rolled her eyes. „You can take your fake bounty and shove it up-”

„I can’t wait till you meet Todd. You two have so much in common.”

„Your older brother? Yeah, from what I heard you two have quite a rocky relationship. Maybe we’ll gang up on you.”

„Can’t wait.” Damian laughed dryly and with a mischievious glint in his eyes walked away not bothering to say another word.

***

„I;m not going.”

„You;re going.”

„I am so not going!”

„You don’t have a say in the matter!”

„Last year you said that new year’s party is not a place for kids!”

„You’re not a kid!”

„I’m 17! I;m a kid!”

„You ran away from home few months ago. You’re not a kid. You’re going. End of discussion.”

„If I’m not a kid then how come I can’t make a decision on this?” she smiled at her father with absolutely innocent eyes, pointing out all the holes in his logic.

Well-

He didn’t take her defiance in a good way.

Almost dragging her to the wayne manor, but dragging nevertheless.

***

Vomiting.

That’s how she felt entering the place,

Running away.

That’s how she felt walking up the steps and being thrown to the sharks when all the gazes landed on her and her father.

Hiding.

That’s how she felt when the gravity of being judged only based on her clothes and outlook sunk in.

Instead Y/N was forced to fake a smile, dance and do the rounds pretending to have fun.

All for the glory and good publicity of her father’s company.

Worst part?

He has been watching.

Like a predator in the darkness, waiting to strike when she was least suspecting it.

„Mr L/N.” Damian crept behind the girl and her father and she was sure he only did it on purpose to startle her. „Would you mind if I steal your daughter for a dance.

The tragicomic of the situation was truly poetic.

Her father went pale. Then red. His jaw got tense. Then loose. And then he smiled forcefully nodding his head, unable to say the dreaded yes. Apparently being torn between the devil (his daughter dancing with the son of his archenemy) and the deep blue sea (offending the host) was too much to handle.,

Too bad, Y/N had no chance to object or get away before Damian led her to the dancefloor.

„It’s not XVIth century Wayne, women can make their own decisions.” she hissed not really happy about his hands circling around her waist.

„Then run away if that’s what you want. I dare you.”

„I’m not going to make a scene here!”

„thought so.” he chuckled, capably leading her in the dance.

„what the hell is that supposed to mean!?”

„absolutely nothing.”

„I’ve known you for five years. There’s never nothing with you Damian.”

‘You used my name, Y/N.”

‘And you repeated my mistake.”

„Maybe it’s not a mistake?” he pulled her slightly closer, causing her to let out an involuntarily gasp. „I’m just saying-”

„I’m supposed to hate you.” she whispered making a turn and then a swirl

„So you don’t.” this was not a question but a statement, his hands trembling slightly. It was hard for him to keep the attitude while dealing with a whirlwind inside. He was 17 and liked a girl, having no idea how to behave to not make a fool out of himself, get embarrassed and lose in her eyes.

„don’t let it get into your head.” she whispered pressing herself closer to his body. They were dancing and it was only because of that.

„Me?” Damian smiled but it came unnoticed due to her head leaning on his shoulder „I think you’re the one who’s fantasising.”

„You sure you’re not hoping for a midnight kiss?” she mocked

„Are you?”

„no.”

„me neither.”

Bruce and f/n were carefully watching their kids.

Damian and Y/n couldn’t care less.

Family drama and conflicts seemed light years away at that moment.

 Future could be figured out later.

Part 2: moment of weakness

[axelsagewrites]

Jamie Tartt*Famous

Pairing: Jamie x reader

Word count: 1841

Warnings: mentions of football related hate but nothing graphic, angst/breakup but everything’s happy by the end

Masterlist Here

Dating a famous footballer was not exactly something you’d ever planned on. You were never into football especially when you saw what it could cause. You remember being five years old crawled up crying as your relatives gathered round the television shouting and swearing because their team missed the penalty. Then you got older and found out the even worse things some men did because of a missed kick.

But somehow you ended up dating ‘the’ Jamie Tartt. Though you didn’t even know who he was when you met him. He was just a boy, and you were just a girl both sitting alone in a bar. Jamie had been nursing a pint for an hour when you came in and his jaw about dropped. However, he’d sworn to himself when ted told him last night, he could come back to Richmond he’d fix his act so he didn’t pounce like he usually would.

“Can I get a vodka lemonade please?” He heard you from across the bar and he could practically hear the sweetness in your voice.

The bar however gradually got busier and when Jamie returned from the bathroom, he realised there was only one seat left and it was next to you. “d’you mind if I sit? Just someone stole my seat,” he asked, suddenly realising how nervous he was for no reason.

You turned around and smiled at him before nodding to the seat, “Yeah sure. It’s pretty busy,”

“Tell me about it. Hate crowds sometimes. Make my head feel all fuzzy,” he smiled at the way you giggled not even caring if you were laughing at him. “Watcha want?” He asked after ordering his own drink and you hesitated for a moment, “Cmon, no strings or nothing. Just a drink. Vodka lemonade maybe?”

You laughed lightly and nodded, turning to the lady, “Yeah one of them please,” you turned back to Jamie as she worked on your drinks. “Its nice to meet you…” you said, words trailing off till Jamie finally realised you were asking his name.

“Jamie,” he said, sticking his hand out for what turned into a half awkward half laughy handshake that then turned into you both chatting till last call and Jamie walking you home.

-

Somehow his job hadn’t came up. It was partially because you had made a joke about hating football on your second date but also because Jamie was enjoying the normalcy of it all. Even if it meant when he spotted a paparazzi, he would very suddenly drag you away to a random shop or restaurant, putting up his hoodie to ruin their shot.

However eventually he had to tell you. He hadn’t put his hood up quick enough and their plastered on a magazine was Jamie holding your hand walking through London. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, staring at yourself on the magazine in shock.

“You never asked?” He offered with a sorry smile, “I wanted to love but I just,” he sighed, “I didn’t want you to judge me or that. Cause I really like you,” he reached out to take your hand as you both sat on your couch.

You gave him a small smile, stroking your thumb over his hand, “So is this something that happens all the time? Pap’s following us around? Do people come up to you in the street and stuff?”

“Sometimes,” he shrugged since to Jamie this was just life, but he didn’t know at this point what was normal, “I mean like they’re pretty easy to ignore most the time,”

“Its just weird. I mean I’m on a magazine,” you said, eyes wide as you gestured to the glossy paper, “I never thought I’d end up being just some WAG,”

Jamie scoffed, “Babe you’re way more than a WAG,” he said as he put an arm around your shoulder, “You’re my girl. That is if you’ll still have me?”

“Of course, I will Jamie. It’ll just take me some time to get used to,”

-

However now the press knew you existed the paparazzi weren’t exactly easy to ignore. It was one thing being followed around with Jamie but one of them was waiting outside your work last week asking if you were another fling or if the pregnancy rumours were true. His comments sent you into a complete spiral with Jamie coming over to try comfort you.

 “He was just rude Jamie,” you sniffled into his chest.

“I know baby,” he tried to comfort you as he stroked your back, “It’ll be okay. You get used to it really and they’re not all that bad. Promise,” he said as he kissed the top of your head.

“I just wish,” you sighed, “that you’d told me in the first place,”

“What difference would it have made?” Jamie asked however your lack of response made him worry as he pulled back to look at your face, “Would you have said no? When I asked you to be my girlfriend. Would you have said no if you knew?”

You opened your mouth to speak but you struggled to get the words out. “I don’t know,” you managed to choke out, “I just don’t know if I can deal with this. I’m not good with attention let alone paparazzi following me. I never asked for any of this Jamie,” you began to ramble. “I like you I really do. But it’s a lot, okay?”

Jamie sighed however he almost cried when you pulled yourself out of his arms, “I like you too, but football is my job. It’s my life,”

“And I would never want you to give that up,” you said instantly, reaching for his hand, “Maybe we should just take a break? That way I can I don’t ease into it? Or like I don’t know just wrap my head around it,”

Jamie felt himself freeze in his seat. He nodded slowly before standing up, “Okay if that’s what you need,”

“I’m sorry Jamie. I really am,” you said, standing to follow him as he headed for the doors.

Jamie nodded once more as he reached for the handle, “Its not your fault. I should’ve told ya,”

“Jamie,” you said but he’d already opened the door. “We aren’t over its just…”

“Just a break,” he said, nodding his confirmation before walking out the door but you felt your heart shatter as the door shut.

-

Even though the paparazzi had stopped, and two weeks had gone by you still felt absolutely awful. You hadn’t seen Jamie in real life but suddenly you were seeing him on the news and his name on the back of kid’s jerseys. You began to wonder if it was for the best but every reminder of him stung.

Neither one of you had texted the other. You’d not heard from him at all since you left. Until yesterday when you got an email confirmation from Richmond fc with a ticket reserve confirmation in the buyer’s box under the name Tartt. The game was tomorrow, and you spent the whole day and yesterday debating if you would go. Eventually you decided not to.

-

However today when you woke up the first thing you saw was an article about the match going on today. Richmond was playing some team you’d never heard of but then again you only knew who Richmond were because you lived a 15-minute walk away from the stadium. The game was supposed to start at twelve.  As your eyes fell to the clock that read 10:48 you finally made up your mind.

You’ve never gotten ready so quick in your life and you were practically running out your flat at 11:35 and half sprinting to Richmond. However, you had no idea how to collect the tickets and the ticket man at the counter looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, so you just bought a seat instead.

You were ushered inside alongside hundreds of rowdy football fans decked out in Richmond gear. You did your best to find your seat and thanked the gods when you saw it was at the end of the aisle. It was three rows up from the front and you quickly realised right next to the thing the footballers came out of.

You felt your smile almost split your face when you watched Jamie walk out of the tunnel in his uniform, but he didn’t see you. As they turned to wave to the crowds the whole crowd jumped up so there was no chance, he heard you screaming his name alongside everyone else.

As the game started you actually found yourself enjoying it as you screamed and cheered alongside the football fans as Jamie scored another goal. It was 2-2 thanks to Jamie and you’d never felt prouder. “Cmon Jamie!” You screamed but you weren’t even the loudest as he ran down the pitch with the ball.

He passed to another player. Him to another. Back to Jamie. Now to someone up the field and then, “GOAL!” The crowd began to cheer and a few seconds later the final whistle rung. Everyone began to jump up and down and you quickly joined them as you jumped up clapping as you did so. The team were all smiles, well apart from a really big hairy guy, as they headed for the tunnel. Jamie however wasn’t smiling as he wore a look of concern.

Your eyes however were locked on Jamie. He however was looking up at the buyer’s box waiting to see you. However, it wasn’t until his eyes fell, thinking you were officially over when he saw you. His smile suddenly appeared, beaming brightly as he stopped in his tracks.

“Woo!” You cheered, clapping even harder. You could never quite predict Jamie. No one could. Not even Jamie thought he was going to do what he was about to do.

He ran for the stands, throwing himself up and climbing over the wall. The crowd was going mental, but your cheers stopped but the smile on your face didn’t as he ran up the stairs, ignoring the fans trying to pat him on the back.

“Hey,” he breathed out with a wide grin.

“Hi,” you giggled right back at him as you stepped forward. You could hear his team yelling at him and a ref coming but neither of you cared as his arm wrapped around your back and his head began to dip.

God you’d missed these lips. Your hand went to the back of his neck as the crowd whooped and hollered. Jamie pulled back as a ref rang a sharp whistle in his ear. “Call me yeah?” He said just before the hairy guy from his team pulled him halfway down the stairs.

“Yeah sure,” You laughed as he was forced back down the stairs and out the tunnel, somehow only receiving a yellow card. It may not be how you planned it, but you were certainly never gonna let Jamie go again. Youd already made that mistake once.

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[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 25

Damn. I actually hate seeing that number up there. Because that means it's done. Eight months, twenty-five chapters, 52895 words, and one hell of a ride.

I'll start posting the sequel on Tuesday, and will post Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays until it's done. I hope to get it done before October's end. But that's not looking likely at the moment.

But once it's done, I will post the epilogue. This was actually written first and was a way for me to flesh out the band members. Then I just wanted to dive right in to writing the full story. A link to the original idea here.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24

~

The rest of the American tour while it had its ups and downs was pretty much was uneventful. When Steve got back to Cali, he got some actual therapy from someone Gareth’s therapist, Dr. Sam Owens recommended to him. To not only deal with the abandonment issues left by his parents and Nancy but to help deal with the sudden onslaught of fame.

It was going well.

It was the therapist that had strongly recommended going on the vacation with his two best friends. That really helped put his life in perspective.

They were out celebrating Gareth’s one year of being sober and everyone had been invited. Jeff, Brian, and Eddie, of course. Even Vickie made it out. Dustin, Will, Mike, Max, Lucas, Ellie, Hopper, Robin, all the members of The Fallen, sans persona. Gareth had really become friends with all of them, yes even Steve. Gareth and Shane became really close. It was nice to see.

“Cheers!” Jeff said holding up their glasses of sparkling apple cider that they had all brought to share.

“Cheers!” the rest of them cried, clinking their glasses together.

They had rented out a nice surf and turf restaurant for the occasion and everyone was catching up. The owner was a friend of Jonathan’s, Argyle Rivera. He had gotten his start with a pizza food truck and it just exploded.

“So what did you and Mike decide to do?” Steve asked when there was a lull in the conversation. “I know you two weren’t sure the last time I was in Hawkins.”

Mike and Will shared a bashful look before Mike said, “I wrote a children’s book and Will illustrated it. We sent it out to a couple of different publishers so we’re just waiting to hear back.”

“That’s amazing!” Dustin cried. “You guys are going to be awesome.”

“Yeah,” Will said brightly. “I finally convinced Jonathan into going in to photography at the local community collage and he’s doing really well.”

“Nancy is going to school, too,” Mike said quietly, knowing how most of the group felt about his sister.

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? What is the once great Nancy Wheeler going to be studying?”

Mike perked up a little that someone had taken a interest in what he said. “She’s actually going into journalism. Especially to be a war corespondent. After everything rightfully fell apart after the incident with The Fallen and Corroded Coffin, she took a hard look at her life and decided she hated the person she had become. So she’s been in therapy and has gotten into her dream school of Emerson.”

“That’s good,” Steve said quietly. Robin gave his a hand gentle squeeze and he returned it with a grateful smile.

“What are doing next, Ellie?” Brian asked. “Designing more epic costumes for the rich and famous? I saw that dress you designed for Lupita Nyong’o for the premier of her new movie. That was a gorgeous shade of purple.”

Ellie’s face dimpled in the force of her wide, happy smile. “Something like that. I’m just glad the dress turned out so well. I’ll be heading back to New York, to stay this time. I got a job at a fashion house that I’m really excited for.”

“What about you and Dusty?” Lucas asked, tilting his head. “I thought things were going great.”

Both Dustin and Ellie share a blushing smile.

“We’re still together,” Dustin replied. “I’ll be in Boston and she’ll be in New York. We’ll going to try and make it work.”

Max nodded. “Long distance can suck, but if the other person is worth it you can make it work.” She nudged Lucas’s shoulder and he grinned back.

“So you didn’t get traded to Lakers like you wanted?” Gareth asked Lucas.

He shook his head. “Maybe next year. But in the mean time, Max has a couple interviews at Tony Hawk’s video game company as a mo-cap performer for the female characters in his games.”

Everyone oohed and ahhed and congratulated her.

“I don’t have the job yet,” she muttered, but happily soaked up the attention anyway.

Dustin turned to Steve and Robin. “When are you two going to do something with your lives?”

Eddie winced and Steve and Robin didn’t even have to glance at each other to be suddenly on the same wavelength of doom.

If this was an anime you would have have seen the dark waves behind their heads.

“We make good money doing what we do,” Robin said darkly. “Yeah, it’s a bit jack of all trades, but it’s fun. We’re never stuck doing the same thing. We get travel all over the world. We get to meet famous people and all the perks of fame with the drawbacks of having our privacy invaded on the regular.”

“Jack of all trades, but master of none,” Dustin said to be pedantic. “Don’t you guys want to do something specific, like a teacher or a doctor?”

Robin snorted. “No.”

Chrissy hand covered hers, and Robin gave her a squeeze back. She was fine, just annoyed.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “And I don’t why being a jack of all trades is bad thing. Focusing on one thing is great for the people who can do it, but I love the different jobs. Roadie one tour, PA another, then EMT the next. It’s great.”

Dustin frowned, stabbing his plate with his fork.

“My therapist says people are like plants,” Gareth said, “some people are trees and they grow up slowly. Some are bamboo and in the right environment shoot up super fast. But some people are like periwinkle and grow out sideways. Robin and Steve are like that. It’s still growth, just not the growth you want them to have.”

“I guess,” he huffed. He looked up at Steve. “Are you happy doing what you do?”

Steve and Eddie shared a glance. “Yes, for all its faults, I am very happy.”

He nodded and they went back to celebrating Gareth’s year of sobriety. But under the cover of the loud celebration and raucous laughter, Vickie and Simon chatted quietly to themselves.

~

Steve and Eddie lay on the bed in Eddie’s mansion curled up together after sex.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked Steve when he had curled up under his chin and held on tight.

“We were out celebrating,” he murmured, “and I couldn’t even tell them we were in a relationship.”

“Most of the people there already knew, babe,” Eddie murmured. But when Steve didn’t say anything it clicked. “You wanted to tell the kids. Especially after the bomb Mike dropped about Nancy moving on.”

Steve nodded.

Eddie scooted down the bed to look Steve in the eye. “Whatever you do or don’t tell them is entirely up to you I don’t care either way.”

“You don’t care that we’ll never get to go on dates or be seen holding hands or kissing?” Steve asked seriously.

Eddie shook his head. “Do you want to know why?”

“I guess,” Steve said with a half shrug.

“Because when I first got into the music business,” Eddie murmured, “I slept with anyone who would give a passing fancy.”

Steve looked up at him in confusion. “But I thought you already had a crush on me then?”

“I did,” Eddie confirmed. “But here’s the thing, sweetheart, do you know who’s partners get torn apart the most in celebrity relationships?”

Steve shook his head.

“Those with non-famous partners,” Eddie said. “If your partner is anything other than a C or B list celebrity when you’re an A-list, you get called out for ‘slumming it’ and their partners get called all sorts of nasty names, but especially ‘gold digger’. Which is the last thing I wanted for you.”

“Is that why you were okay with being with after you found out I was secretly famous?”

Eddie rose up and tackled Steve into the pillows. “You listen close, Steve Harrington. That was absolutely not why. I didn’t even show up with the flowers intending on confessing anything other than knowing your secret. It was like I suddenly saw all the facets of the diamond I’d been admiring for years and realizing any reason I had to not put myself forward were stupid.”

Steve blinked up at him in awe. “Oh.”

“Yeah, baby, ‘oh’,” Eddie huffed. “Continuing to protect you from the shame and humiliation of the slings and arrows of the media is my mission in life, okay? And if you ever decide to come out, either as bisexual as Steve or as Steve as Abbadon, I will be there for you. One hundred percent.”

Steve’s eyes welled up and he nodded. “Okay.” His lips quivered. “I love you so much. I just want you to be happy.”

Eddie kissed him fiercely. “I know you do and you make me very happy. The Fallen, Abbadon, being closeted? All that? That’s just a part of you that I love.” He bounced onto the bed. “In fact...”

He grabbed his phone and started going through it. “Eureka!” He turned the phone around to a paint of a night, shielding a maiden from the sun and a large crowd of people. This is us, babe. I am the knight and you are my maiden. I won’t get tired, or upset that you need protecting.”

Steve blushed. He sat up and pulled up his knees to his chest. “When we first started coming up with names for us, we didn’t originally all have the same letter.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “Wait, really?”

Steve shook his head. “Spence was just Death. Shane was always Astraeus. Simon was struggling with finding a name that fit.”

“And did you have your name picked out?” Eddie asked gently, knowing where this was going.

He pursed his lips and nodded. “I didn’t think we’d make it this far. I really thought we would have crashed and burned by now.” He closed his eyes and hung his head. “Part of the myth with Icarus and the wax wings that people forget was that he was flying all over the place. That if he flied straight and true like his father suggested, he would have survived. But he flew too close to the seas as well as the sun.”

Steve sighed and then looked over at Eddie. “And that’s what I thought I was doing with the band. Flying too low with the fact that we were preps wanting to break into the metal scene and then flying too high with the personas and masks. I was going to not only wreck my life but the lives of people I cared about.”

He let out a low shuddering breath. “That maybe I should have listened to my father. To go to college, to get a degree in business, to fly straight.”

“So what changed your mind?” Eddie asked. “Other than Shane wanting everyone to have all the same letter as a middle finger to everyone trying to guess your identities, I guess.”

Steve let out a watery chuckle. “Shane reminded me of the beginning of Icarus’s story. That he had grown up in the labyrinth, never seeing the sky. How could his father had not seen that of course Icarus was going to play the second they were out? That, yes they were fleeing for their lives, but this was the first time his son had seen the sun, felt the breeze on his face and touched the waves on the sea.”

“But if Daedalus had played with Icarus instead of yelling at him, his father would have been able to keep him from getting too close to the things that would have harmed him,” Steve finished. “That he would have been there to catch his son when he began to fall.”

“So what was the lesson?” Eddie prompted.

“I wasn’t Icarus,” Steve said. “I was always free, I might have fallen from grace according to my parents, but that like God in the Christian story, they were cruel and cast me out because what they wanted for me wasn’t what I wanted.”

Eddie smiled. “So you became Abbadon instead. The one that fell but God still relied on to destroy the wicked. The opposite of Steve Harrington. The boy that rose up like a phoenix from the ashes to be better than his parents dreamed.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Icarus was the first to fall mythos wise, but Abbadon was the one people fear coming back.”

Eddie pulled him close. “Well, you’re my angel, now. Fallen or not, I’m not giving you up for anything.”

Steve kissed him softly. “I’m putting a lot of trust you, Munson. Don’t fuck this up.”

Eddie laughed and kissed him fiercely. Then he proceeded to show Steve all the ways loved him.

Steve knew he might always have doubts and fears, but now he had the support system he always needed.

It was more than past time to fly and in Eddie’s arms there was no limit to how high he could go now.

And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

~

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3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

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8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay

[slafastri28]

It was and is You - CL16 - part 2.

Note: Here's part two, part one link-> part 1

Saturday

You had set an alarm that morning to make sure you didn’t miss your “morning coffee”. You had assistance from your three friends in choosing your outfit and helping you get ready. Allie did your hair, Liv did your makeup, and Mila chose your outfit.

“Can we please meet him,” Mila begged.

“Don’t ruin this for Y/N, you know how she is about guys,” Liv said. Your last relationship of three years ended in the middle of your last season putting you in a slump. It had been a year and now here you were with this guy who you clicked with instantly. 

“Yeah, but she needs our help, right Y/N?” Allie said slyly knowing her full intentions.

“Okay the last thing I need right now is you fan girling over him while we are just trying to get to know each other,” you said, “Maybe just maybe in like an hour after I’m down there you can possibly join me for breakfast when he has to go,” hoping to ease their eagerness, it seemed to work.

“Yes! See she does want us Liv,” Mila grinned. You rolled your eyes looking at the time seeing a message light up on your phone.

Charles: We are still good?

You: Yes heading out now 😄

“I have to go,” you said swatting their hands off of you. You took one last look at yourself in the mirror, grabbed your purse then dashed out of your room. You got on the elevator expecting it to stop on his floor and it did. You looked down then back up to see the brunette enter the elevator.

“Hello again,” he smiled.

“So you were the driver my friends are obsessed with, it was you, that explains the mystery,” you said.

“It is me,” he shrugged. The elevator door opened and you made your way to one of the tables in the lobby ordering your coffee and espresso. The two of you began talking, finally getting to learn more about Charles and about your shared interests. You both were athletes with crazy travel schedules, you both played an instrument, and you both agreed that after this weekend you would stay in touch.

“I want to make a deal with you,” he grinned.

“Oh what am I getting into,” you teased, knowing that it would end up with you being happy.

“If I place top five today we can do this again tomorrow, even though I prefer to take time to myself the day of a race, because I would like to see you again,” he said.

“And if not?” you trailed off. You were distracted hearing giggles coming from the elevator area, you looked up to see your friends watching you from a distance back. 

“Y/N?”

“Oh my god I am so sorry, I am so sorry,” you whispered over and over again as you watched your friends walk over.

“Hi Charles,” Mila said running her finger along his shoulder, “I’m Mila,” she said batting her eyes.

“And I’m Allie,” she said doing the same.

“And I’m Liv,” she said giving both of them a stern look.

“So this is the famous girl group I have heard about,” he laughed. You put your head in your hands embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” Liv mouthed to you. You rolled your eyes knowing this would happen. You watched Mila and Allie compete in trying to woo over Charles and he was nice about it he played along, but always continued to look at you and talk about what he knew about you. Your friends went to a different table waiting for you to join them once Charles left. He looked at the time and noticed it was time to leave for qualifying. His car would be outside in moments to pick him up. 

“So will I see you after again?” He asked standing up. You stood up with him,

“Yes definitely,” you blushed. He opened his arms to hug you, you wished him good luck with a hug and went back to your friends table to share only the important details of your date.

“So you agreed to the deal right, he has to finish in the top five it’s Monza!” Mila said.

“Can we please come again, but we won’t flirt,” Allie begged.

“Oh please, you can’t help yourselves,” you said. 

“Hey I held them back,” Liv said. You nodded at her thanking her for her efforts. You continued discussing and telling your friends to back off. You texted Charles under the table apologizing once again for what had happened.

You: I am so sorry again, they can be a lot sometimes 🫣

Charles: Stop worrying I’m fine, besides they could have done worse

You: I guess so, but don’t let what happened this morning distract you

Charles: If anything I feel more ready after talking to you

You smiled and your friends caught you texting.

“Y/N stop it’s girls time,” Allie whined. 

“Jealous?” you smirked. As time went on the four of you got ready for qualifying and made your way to the track. The drivers came on the track making their way around the track competing for times. At the end of the hour Charles had not only finished in the top five, but the top three. Your friends all jumped and screamed for joy rushing down to the spot where you would meet Charles after. After moments of waiting you saw him, once again your eyes met through the crowd, it helped that you were in the front this time. There were tons of voices yelling for him around you but you remained silent knowing he would make his way over to you. As he approached you, the butterflies bubbled in your stomach, you felt your face heating with each step he got closer to you. He reached out his hand to you over the barrier you were waiting behind. You took it,

“Do we still have a deal?” you asked.

“Oh we have a deal,” he said firmly pulling your hand to his shoulder, you hugged once again infront of this large crowd. You could feel the weight of all the pictures being taken of you by all the girls around you.

“Talk to you later,” you grinned pulling out of the hug. He winked and went on to signing and taking pictures with the other fans around you. You and your friends ran off shouting bye. The four of you went out for dinner once again debriefing.

“Y/N you have to see this,” Allie said flipping her phone around. You took her phone scrolling through seeing tons of pictures of you and Charles all over social media.

“Y/N your famous,” Liv smiled.

“Oh please remember us,” Mila laughed. You looked up this media on your own phone and sent it to Charles.

Charles: So they are calling you the mystery girl

You: It’s not going to take long before they figure out who I am, we exchanged medias they can find me through yours

Charles: Is that a problem?

You: No, but are we… well what are we?

Charles: You will have to wait until tomorrows deal 😏

You rolled your eyes putting away your phone for the rest of dinner. The three of you made your way back to the hotel, still discussing you being Charles’ mystery girl. You texted him a quick good night ready for your coffee date the next morning once again. You drifted off to sleep having a dream of tomorrow’s race outcome, little did you know it would be a dream come true.

[tarnished-butsogrand]

To Liam,

It's so strange that I just couldn't bring myself to create anything to honour the role you've played in my life. It's like I cannot allow myself to say goodbye to you, trying to push back the inevitability of it. This permanent goodbye that I don't want to speak into existence.

"Let's leave it unsaid, just one more second

If you don't say it, then it ain't true yet"

When I first 'met' you, I was newly thirteen and I saw your music video 'One Thing' on TV. I had excitedly texted my best friend at the time, gushing about five cute guys on TV that were singing, "Get out, get out, get out of my bed" which amused my friend to no extent. It was the start of a character defining moment in my life, and I didn't even know it then.

It was hard to keep up with you guys, our access to the internet was limited. Watching YouTube videos back then was a task. I would go to all lengths to do so anyway, because it felt like I had five friends who I could joke around with. That's the strangest thing. I so desperately wanted to be friends with you guys. Not date. Just friendship. Looking back at that time, I almost feel sorry for how lonely I was to depend on five guys who didn't know of my existence for friendship, but then I don't. I don't know what kind of person I would have become if I had been oblivious of your existence. Now, I have had so many friends that I have met/ talked to through you. I am not in touch with all of them, but I felt like a part of a community.

You'll never feel like you're alone

I'll make this feel like home.

You taught me to dream. For the longest time, I was adamant I would form a band myself, and be famous and meet you guys. I was so sure of it! I could never afford to buy albums, or the movies, the books even though I desperately wished to. Then, for my eighteenth birthday, I finally got my hands on your book and the This Is Us movie

It was my dream, to meet you guys one day, all of you, and have you sign this book. I would tell you how much you inspired me, helped this little girl in a little town dream of going places. Gave her hope she could make it out of there one day.

I am so grateful for that.

It's hard to think you were together as a band for only five years because it sure felt like ages back then. There was always so much... Drama! I still remember the day Zayn left the band. The best friend who had first heard my atrocious interpretation of your lyrics, she was the one who broke the news to me. My chapattis and okra curry seemed extra salty that day. My family was surprised. What is she crying for? I would tell them and they would try to keep from laughing. It felt like the world had ended, but everything carried on as usual.

Life went on, I begrudgingly decided against pursuing a career in music. It's so funny, isn't it? You guys were living the dream and consequently taught me how to dream. And now, you've left us because of it and I'm still here because I didn't pursue it (not saying I would have become as famous as you, or famous at all). I got into medical school. By that time, you were already three years deep into your 'hiatus'. I would hear about you, now and then. Maybe listen to a single or two. Loved Strip That Down. Loved your interviews. Loved For You. Was waiting for an album.

I kind of lost touch with the 1D fandom and you. In the blink of an eye, 2020 was here. I got back to the fandom right in time for the 1D 10 years anniversary. I was sure it wouldn't have any effect on me. I was grown up now. Then I bawled my eyes out to Fireproof and I realised I was still a sucker, and I would always be.

Nobody knows you, baby, the way I do

It's been so long, it's been so long

We must be fireproof

Then I realised. It wasn't the same anymore. When I left, people were excited about everyone's solo careers. Five times the fun, right? Everything had... Shifted. There were camps and groups and, it just wasn't actually the same. I was horrified. Blogs dedicated to hate certain members, the word 'flopped' being used incessantly when it came to them. And bearing the brunt of the most of it was, you.

I don't want to go back and rehash it all, it's too painful, but you know what? I would have that time back in an instant if it meant you were still out there. Alive. When the possibility of this happening was so damn preposterous, not even the craziest fanfiction could have a plot line like this.

I don't want to say I felt sorry for you, because that makes you seem small. You had talked about your struggles, but you had also gotten better. I heard Heart Meet Break and I heard Weekend. They sound so ominous right now.

Heart meet break, lips meet drink

Rock meets bottom, to the bottom I sink.

Fuck.

I come alive on the weekend

I might die on the weekend

Another line for my demons.

All the while, facing vitriol that was frankly alarming. There was nothing you could say or do that wasn't criticised or scrutinized. I felt helpless but I was determined, once again that the tide would turn. That people would see you for the kind soul that you really are.

Let me tell you, LP1 was damn good! I hope you're proud of that album, wherever you are, because you smashed it! And your First Time EP? Still mad that Slow wasn't on your main album, like who made that decision? I am sorry people didn't pay more attention to your music, because it is amazing! Your voice, of course. That note in Bedroom Floor-you aren't real, you know?

And your videos during the lockdown? And your LP shows? You kept us entertained and happy. We loved watching you do the thing you love the most.

Oh, Liam. Then I gradually drifted apart again. I wasn't there when you came out saying you had been sober. I wasn't aware it had gotten worse. I don't know why, but this October, I listened to your music for the first time in a long while. It's so strange. Just a few days later-

I still can't believe it, Liam. I still can't believe you have left us. I can't believe that this is the end, this is how you had to go. With the world still against you. You didn't get your chance at redemption, you didn't get your chance to prove to everyone how amazing you were! You had so much love left to give. Everyone talked about how you checked up on them frequently. I am sorry there was no one to do that for you. I am sorry for the way you were treated. I am sorry you didn't get the help you needed, I am sorry that we can't enjoy more of your songs, your voice, your paintings and most of all, that laugh where your eyes all crinkle up, and your body physically rocks with it, and for a moment you become the embodiment of sunshine.

You were just a boy, who had one working kidney and the other that miraculously started working. You were just a boy that had a fear of spoons and loved dinosaurs. You were just a boy who apparently couldn't read but wrote so many songs for One Direction that we hold close to our heart. You were just a boy who warned people against snake habitats, and dropped tubs of pasta on your floor. You were just a boy who is loved by so many, whose loss will weigh heavy on our hearts for the rest of our lives.

I'll never forget you. And I promise, I will make all my dreams come true. Maybe not the singing part, but the rest. Hope you're happy, Leeyum. I hope they're treating you better than we did.

How can I forget someone

Who gave me so much to remember?

With love, always

Rini

[leavesfallensparse]

Cigarettes & Wine | M. Healy | 1

'I want a photo of you in my bed, to carry with me when I go out west.'

In which Sadie and Matty have a very brief, very awkward, and very anxious encounter, Sadie gets very flustered but quickly finds herself fitting in with the group of rowdy boys and too many feelings are felt for her teenage brain.

warnings: drug use, implied alcoholism, implied parental neglect, my sweet angel sadie being a sweet angel.

word count: 8.5k

a/n: soo .. hiiii! i am juniper and im begging you guys bear with me i have Never posted on here before. BUUUUTT i am vvvv nervous and excited to be posting this but it's been in the works for tooooo long. begging and screaming to be let out of the word doc its been confined to. so here we are i guess. pls enjoy sadie and matty they are my Children. if the title wasn't hint enough.. this is only part one.

Sadie has had the most stressful morning of her entire life. Her tie is untied around her neck and the only thing she cares to grab hold of is her camera. Her entire life is on that thing, and although she may be merely 14, her camera is her child. She hears her mother huffing at the bottom of the stairs and straightens up to catch a look of herself in the mirror, a mess, as she suspected. Her shirt is buttoned up wrong, her skirt is half tucked into her tights, she has on one Mary Jane and her backpack’s contents are strewn messily across her bedroom floor. With some swear words muttered along the way she is in the car within five minutes and her mum is chewing her out for being late to her first day of Year 10, which she couldn’t really care less for.

“I’ll see you tonight, mum! Love you!” Sadie slams the car door before she can hear her mums reply and heads into the school she’s grown to know quite well. She’s fallen into a friend group with some girls that she thinks will do for her high school endeavours, but Sadie already knows she’s destined for bigger than the small town of Wilmslow. Somebody else who thinks this way is Matty Healy, the boy who’s just gone into Year 11. Sadie has noticed him before, they both tend to frequent the music department, Sadie finds it visually appealing for her photo collection, whereas Matty finds it appealing to the ears, especially his own guitar strumming. Any time their paths cross Sadie bows her head and pretty much runs in the opposite direction, face as red as the wine her mum drinks when the sky gets dark.

As Sadie enters the front of the school she signs in late at the front and heads to her class, putting her camera in her backpack as she approaches her English class. She sighs and opens the door with stuttered apologies for being late, Sadie might be confident and come across as such but that doesn’t mean her 14 year old brain isn’t scared of high school teachers and their strictness. She stumbles to her seat and sits down, accidentally throwing her bag at her feet once she gets out the book the class are in the middle of silently reading. Even though she doesn’t know why the class is reading on the first day she’s thankful for it because it lets her mind wander, her dreams of being a famous photographer is what her mind favours over ‘A Tale Of Two Cities’, Sadie finds Dickens to be boring. She prefers the Brontë sisters.

When lunchtime finally rolls around Sadie is where she can normally be found, the music department. Her camera is lazily slung around her neck, her backpack having been left with her friends in the library. She favours avoiding the gossip for finding inspiration in the usual practice rooms, the ones she hasn’t found inspiration in for a while now. She spent every day before the Summer holidays begging whoever might be looking down on her for something to take a photo of. Somebody else had been wandering the same corridors as Sadie. Everyone in her year talks about Matty Healy, “the boy in the year above with a natural affinity for the guitar he’s always carrying around the school carried a naturally mysterious air.” Sadie can’t think of a single girl in her year who wasn’t utterly obsessed with every move of Matty Healy. Including herself, even if she’s very hesitant to admit it, an admirer from afar per se. She likes to think of him more in the sense of ‘his appearance is inspiring to her camera’.  Sadie was looking down at her feet, frowning at the scuffed shoes she wore for the entirety of Year 9 when she felt a larger figure bump into her. As she looks up and sees Matty with a guitar case in his hand she can’t help the pink tint that rises on her cheeks.

“Oh! Erm, sorry!” Sadie somehow manages to force the words out of her mouth. She seems to have the same shyness about her when talking to Matty that she does when looking her English teacher in the eye. An interesting discovery. She loses herself in overthinking the tone she just took with Matty when she hears him reply to her, something she wasn’t expecting in the slightest.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t paying attention, my bad.” He meets her eyes and genuinely seems like he couldn’t care less about her mistake, he seems to take more notice of her camera, his head tilts and his eyes squint in the direction of it hanging limply on her neck. She seems to grow more confident in herself when she realises he’s looking at her camera, she knows she’s good at photography, that’s something she could talk about endlessly. Matty lifts a finger and points to said camera. “You any good?”

Her eyes widen slightly at the question, and she clears her throat at the same time her head begins incessantly nodding, she is acting crazy. She then begins to overthink her nodding. Why is she overthinking so much? Maybe she’s just having an off-day. She decides that she nodded like that because she knows she’s a great photographer, why would she not be overconfident about it? Seems normal enough.

“Cool. Can I see any?” This is when Sadie’s heart rate picks up. She doesn’t know why; she doesn’t want to know why. She also does not want to know why he is asking her this. Matty’s question has sent her brain into full blown panic mode, maybe she does want to know why he’d like to see her photos. What could possibly intrigue him about her? The squint tie around her neck? Her incredibly dirty Mary Janes? In her 14-year-old brain she decides he fancies her. She’d come to find out in many, many years that she was, in fact, right.

“If you want? I’m bringing my hard drive tomorrow for my art class, they’re letting me use my photos this year, meet me at the library?” She says this with a coy smile on her face, in her head she is feeling a lot less coy because of the way Matty is smirking at her. What she doesn’t know is that he is looking down at her with a smirk because her face is so red that he thinks there’s something wrong, maybe it was something he’d said? After a beat of silence, he blinks down at her with a nod, and they bid their goodbyes. Once Sadie is sure Matty has turned the corner she lets out a silent squeal before quickly bolting to the school’s library and sitting down at the table her friends are at, she might not view them in any light, but they do love gossip. She takes a moment to catch her breath before turning to her friend sat beside her, “Matty Healy wants to see my photos. I have no idea why.”

Suffice to say Sadie didn’t sleep a wink that night. She sneaked through to her dad’s office to edit photos on the family computer at midnight when she was sure everyone was sleeping and when she was sure the photos were on her hard drive she went back to bed and tried to sleep. Unsuccessfully. She then had to drag herself to school the next morning, early, to meet Matty before classes. She had no energy to even be nervous, the eyebags on her face spoke for themselves. She all but flopped down on the seat next to the boy who held in his laugh at the sight of her. “Don’t laugh! I had to edit some of these photos before you saw them, and my bloody dad wouldn’t get off the computer last night, so I had to do it after he was sleeping! Anyways, wanna see?” When Matty nods with a smile she rifles through her backpack for her hard drive.

After silently looking through her photos for, like, three whole minutes, Matty turns to Sadie with a single nod. “So, I’m in a band. I think they’d love these. How about you come to our next practice and take some photos of us? See if they like what you do?” Sadie is now a mere puddle in her computer chair. She doesn’t speak in fear of her mouth betraying her, what would she even say? She nods for a while; she doesn’t know how long she nods for, but she knows it’s been a while.

“Yup, sounds good. Yeah, cool. Cool. Where do you guys practice?” Sadie doesn’t know what the fuck is coming out of her mouth. She is word vomiting all over Matty’s shoes. She wants to apologise but she isn’t sure she remembers the English language. Why is she so nervous? Oh, probably just because the guy that every single one of her peers fawns over is currently asking her to make him and his bandmates her next subject of inspiration. Her next muse. What even is her life.

“At my house. I’ll write the address down for you, hang on.” Sadie’s mouth has gone dry. Now she’s truly forgotten the English language. This can’t be real, and this certainly can’t be happening to Sadie. Matty Healy is writing down his home address for her to have. Not to even mention his literal famous mum and dad. She reaches her hand under the computer desk and pinches her thigh over her wool tights, it doesn’t hurt but she’s now sure this is actually happening. Sadie takes the paper from Matty and tries to process the date and time he’s reciting at her. They’re interrupted by the morning bell and when Matty holds the library door open for her she waves goodbye, bows her head and speedwalks away from him.

Sadie really tries to focus in her classes that day but it doesn’t work in the slightest, all she can think about is Matty Healy and she curses him for it. She tries to read some romance novel when she gets home but she starts picturing the characters as her and Matty and has to put it down. He has unknowingly taken over her brain, and she resents him for it. Can’t a girl even read in peace?! She took pride in being the only girl in her year who didn’t have a crush on Matty, now she can’t even hold that above his head.

By the time Friday rolls around Sadie is already over school, she never tended to like school, but she already knows that Year 10 is going to be dreadful. The one saving grace might come in the form of a boy in the year above. She leaves school and runs home to get changed before she heads to Matty’s address. She has cherished the crumpled piece of paper that held his address since she got it on Tuesday morning, she taped it to her mirror and that is where it will stay. It isn’t like she hasn’t come home every night from school and studied it, she knows exactly where she’s going.

Her shaky hand knocks on the door of said address about an hour later, she biked over from her house and actually enjoyed the ride, the early September sun was shining on her face and lighting up the bumpy country road she took to get here. Her thoughts are interrupted by a lively woman, quite aggressively, swinging the front door open. Sadie smiles up at her with squint eyes because of the sun attacking them, making the blue of her irises look probably insane. “Um, hi? I’m Sadie, Matty invited me to watch his band practice and take some photos of them.” Sadie lazily points to the camera around her neck with an awkward smile. She is coming across very poorly. But alas the woman opens the door wider.

“Oh! He never mentioned, he doesn’t tend to tell me these things though, typical teenager! I’m Matty’s mum, just call me Denise though, sweetheart. They should be in the garage.” Denise walks Sadie to the garage door where she can hear the loud laughter of teenage boys and obnoxious drumbeats. She smirks slightly and thanks Denise, accepting her offer of a can of coke. Once she takes it she enters the garage, and the laughter dies down. “Sadie’s here, boys, she’s very lovely so I don’t want to hear of any teasing or making fun.”

Sadie looks down at her feet as Denise defends her, even though the boys haven’t yet uttered a word. She hears the garage door close behind her and Matty gestures her over to him. He very casually, like it’s nothing, throws an arm over her shoulder and begins introducing her to the three other boys in his garage. She already knows George from a couple of her classes due to them being in the same year, but she lets Matty speak at her anyways. “So, Sades, this is Adam, he plays guitar and he's in the year above me, basically he’s old. That’s Ross, he does the bass, but I think he just pretends to know what he’s doing. And that’s George, obviously he plays the drums, but he just makes a fucking racket.” Sadie flushes at how casually he gestures, how casually his arm is around her, how casually he swears, and how casually he calls her ‘Sades’. That’s a new one.

“Um, hi, I’m Sadie it’s nice to meet you guys. Matty was singing your guys’ praise on Tuesday morning. Been looking forward to this since.” Sadie’s forearm has suddenly become very itchy, and she busies herself in looking around the garage in an attempt to avoid eye contact with any of the aforementioned boys. She notices a few posters on the exposed walls and a couple of guitar cases strewn across the floor, the last thing she notices is a battered leather couch against the wall, facing all of the boys and their many instruments and poor cable management. Sadie leaves Matty’s side and takes a seat on it, placing her coke on the floor and taking the lens cap off her camera.

The practice is well under way and Sadie’s mind has been racing with thoughts of how she’d shoot the band at an actual show. She finally gains the courage to stand up and has failed to notice Matty’s eyes on her the entire time he’s been singing. None of the other boys seem to notice either, Matty doesn’t even realise what he’s doing. When they finish up the last song they wanted to practice (for probably the tenth time), they start chatting about things they should do differently, and Sadie busies herself by looking at her photos on the couch. She gets caught up in them and doesn’t feel the sofa sink next to her, she looks up and sees George looking over her shoulder. “Any good photos of me?”

Sadie can’t help the pink on her face as she nods and turns her camera to him, showing him the few photos she got of him. She found it difficult to get good angles of George considering the size of the garage they were practising in, him being shoved into the back corner. As George was flicking through photos Sadie couldn’t help but study his face, his brows were slightly furrowed as he fiddled with the buttons on her camera, not knowing how to work it. He smirked at a few photos and his eyes scanned over the rest, when he looked up Sadie was suddenly very interested in the opening of her can of coke. She has no idea why she can’t look at any of the boys without her heart rate picking up and her face going bright pink. Maybe because she thinks they’re actually quite cool and she has no idea why she would possibly be sitting in Matty’s garage with them all. But she is.

The next time she has a run in with the band is a week and a half later when they all spot her in the lunch hall and wildly gesture her over. She had spotted them first and tried to look around to avoid them. She really wishes she knew why her subconscious was forcing her away from the boys. (She’s terrified she’ll embarrass herself. That’s why). She gets herself together and heads over to the table they’re sat at, awkwardly placing her bag at her feet. She murmurs something that could be perceived as a “hi” but honestly it could have been anything. “Have you edited the photos yet? We are highly anticipating them.” Sadie nods her head excitedly, glad that the topic is on her photos, something she actually is passionate about.

“Yeah! Yeah, they’re on a hard drive that you guys can have, I forgot to bring it with me today though. I’ll bring it tomorrow?” Matty nods and falls into conversation with the boys, who also include Sadie, sitting there helpless, unsure if she should get up and go to her friends. She dares to glance in their direction and when she sees them blowing fake kisses because of the curly haired boy she’s sat with she rolls her eyes and turns back around. She reminds herself that they are her surface level friends, they have nothing in common whatsoever, they’re too caught up in gossip. Sadie is too caught up in her camera. They don’t gel.

Sadie manages to fall into a conversation with Ross about English and their mutual enjoyment for the subject, she finds it incredibly random but she’s glad to have something in common with one of the boys. She relished in the conversation not being surface level drama that brought a yawn out of her throat, she also relishes in her slight ranting about her passions actually being listened to. Sadie likes Ross and his listening skills. When the bell rings she finds herself bewildered at the fact she doesn’t want to get up from the table, she’d quite like to stay and timidly laugh at the boys’ jokes and general noisiness. But, alas, she must head to the aforementioned English class, she makes a joke to Ross about how she’d rather go anywhere else. They share a hatred for Sadie’s teacher, him having had her for the previous school year. She finds herself falling into step with George, they’re already five minutes late.

They wave a goodbye to the rest of the boys who all disperse into different classes and walks silently with George. They pass by a few people that make them share glances to each other, grimaces present on their faces. Anytime this happens they both laugh and shove into one another until they reach the fated English hallway and George reaches into his bag and pulls out two sheets of handwritten papers. Sadie’s face basically turns into a question mark. “What? It’s the homework?” Upon seeing Sadie’s heart basically fall to her toes George can’t help but let out a baffled laugh. “Don’t tell me you haven’t done it.”

“Shit, George.”

The colder the weather gets the more Sadie begins to feel like an integral member of the group. She’s the one to tell the boys to shut up when they’re talking too loudly. She’s the one to shove Matty anytime he makes another member of the group the butt of his jokes. She’s also the one to tell him when his singing sounds shit. Sadie has been quite the talk of the town recently because of this, her old friends are spreading all kinds of rumours due to her gradually dropping them in favour of the boys. Although anytime Ross catches wind of these in the school corridors he’s quick to shut it down, whether it be defending her or physically getting involved… at least he's there!

The band are meeting up for their last practice before Christmas Day and Sadie is beside herself with excitement, she hasn’t seen the boys since the school broke off for the holidays on the 17th. She wakes up that morning already excited but when she opens her curtains and sees snow she swears under her breath, she couldn’t possibly drag her bikes weak tyres through the thick snowfall. So, she slides her panda slippers onto her feet and heads downstairs, finding her mum in the kitchen with a cup of tea and a cigarette in hand. “Morning, mum! Would you be able to give me a lift to Matty’s later? I was gonna bike over, but it must’ve snowed pretty hard last night.” When she hears the sigh escape her mum’s mouth and the slight thud of her palm on the counter she knows she’s not getting a lift.

Denise was expecting Sadie, she’d grown to expect the young girl’s presence around the house at any given time. But what Denise wasn’t expecting was to open up the door to Sadie, bike in hand, tears staining her bright red cheeks, and no hat on her head. This just wouldn’t do. “Oh! Sadie, sweetheart, what happened? Come in, out of the cold now, just dump the bike, that’s fine. Why did you bike here?” Sadie tries to speak but her brain seems to think that letting a sob rack her body is the smarter way to go about this.

“Mum wouldn’t give me a lift, said she had more important things to be seeing to. Had no choice.” Denise immediately puts the kettle on and wraps the girl up in a blanket, rubbing her shoulders after forcing her to take a seat at the kitchen island. Sadie can hear the boys upstairs and is glad of Denise calming her down and talking to her before she has to face them. After Denise gives her a telling off for not, at least, putting on a scarf, she turns to Sadie with an eyebrow raised. She just sighs. “She does this all the time. Feel like a nuisance at that house. Always in the way.”

Upon hearing this Denise circles the kitchen island and crowds her into a hug which she can’t help but accept. After a beat of silence occasionally broken up by Sadie’s sniffles, the two part, Denise keeping her at arm’s length. “You shouldn’t feel like a nuisance. Listen, any time you come here I’m delighted, probably because you balance the testosterone levels a bit, but not just that, you’re the kindest young lady I’ve ever gotten to meet, and it’s always a pleasure to have you at the house, you keep my boys in check. Now, if you ever feel like this again, phone my number from your house phone, and I’ll come pick you up, can’t have you biking in the snow anymore.”

Sadie nods her head at Denise’s words, letting out a slightly weepy laugh anytime she makes a dig at the boys. She feels strangely warm inside, despite the subzero temperatures she was just faced with, and she doesn’t know why. She’s never felt safer than when Denise took her hand on the kitchen island. Matty’s house is now her safe space she’s decided. Speak of the devil, Sadie hears a clatter from the stairs behind her and when she turns she sees Matty’s eyes light up. “Sades! You made it! I thought you weren’t gonna come because of this snow, glad to see you though, George is chatting shit about your English teacher again. Something about holiday homework, help me take some juice up?”

Sadie takes the blanket with her and with a smile in Denise’s direction she waddles over to the fridge. She makes sure to finish her tea before grabbing a can of coke. Another thing she likes about the Healy house is the constantly stocked fridge, anytime she needs a drink there seems to be one on hand. Almost akin to Mary Poppins handbag. She takes one of the cans Matty is juggling with a giggle and bids goodbye to Denise before heading up the stairs. Matty entertains this journey by telling her that his dad had taken Louis, his younger brother, out to build a snowman a half hour ago and Sadie laughs at the image of his rosy cheeks and tiny hands grasping at snowflakes. She dotes on Louis, always having wanted a younger sibling, she treats him like her own brother.

When the door to Matty’s bedroom opens she smiles at the sight, three boys strewn across the room in one big, lazy mess. They all seem to perk up at the sight of Sadie, George especially. “Thank fuck you’re here, need help with this homework, my mum told me to have it finished before Christmas. And Ross, miserable bastard, is refusing to help me. Have you done it?” Sadie sets down Adam’s can of coke on the desk, cracking her own open before sitting criss-cross on the floor beside George. She nods at him over the can, and he can’t help but cheer and push it towards her, struggling on the carpet. “You’re so much better than me at English. Read what I have.” She sets down her can and skims over what George has written.

“Oh dear, I’ll help you after practice.” At this the boys all glance at each other and the room falls silent. Did she say something? I mean, they’re here for practice, right? Right. Sadie has just missed it, her treacherous journey to the Healy house took longer than usual, and she left late. “Have you already practiced?” When faced with four nodding boys, Sadie sighs and nods too. “That’s okay, we can just hang out, then.” Matty looks at her with a sympathetic grimace. He overheard more of her conversation with his mum than he originally let on.

Matty decides that changing the subject entirely is the best thing he can do in this situation, he doesn’t want to force her to talk about why she was crying to his mum. “We liked the most recent photos you took, really cool. Think you left some of your ones for art on the hard drive, there was a random shot of some leaf in the middle of Ross’ closeups.” Sadie shakes her head, feeling her eyes roll involuntarily. “I mean it was a good leaf photo, I just don’t think it’s our vibe.” Her head is thrown back in a giggle as she takes another sip of her coke.

“You should consider yourself lucky, getting to see my leaf photos. They are very close to my heart.” All Matty can do at this is scoff, he is now the one rolling his eyes. Sadie’s attention is diverted by a sheet of paper being waved in her face. She turns to George with a slight glare, and he backs into himself a bit. “Fine. What do you not understand? It’s just English.”

“I just don’t get it. English doesn’t make sense, I think you’ve forgotten that I am a well-travelled man, Sadie. I’ve been all over the place.” Sadie fixes the boy with a sigh, a straight-faced sigh. She lets his sentence linger in the air as she readjusts on the bedroom floor. She lays on her front as she reads what George has written. It’s not bad, but it’s also not great. And so, she tells him such.

“I mean, it’s not bad, but it’s not great. You could maybe, I don’t know, sprinkle in an adjective here or there, don’t think that would hurt.” Is all she manages to get out before a pillow is lobbed, quite forcefully, at her head. In retaliation she throws the paper back at George. “Well, you can do it yourself then, can’t you?”

“No, no, no! Sadie I didn’t mean it! My hand slipped!”

As the day turned to night the boys gradually left until it was just Matty and Sadie left sitting on his floor, sharing chips that Denise had cooked for them. Sadie put one in her mouth and glanced out the window, noticing it was snowing again, the sigh that came out of her mouth wasn’t meant to sound quite as pathetic as it did. Matty stopped strumming on his guitar and turned to her with furrowed brows, at the sudden silence she met his eyes. “I can’t bike home in this weather.”

“Why did you even bike here in the first place? And why were you crying?” Sadie shakes her head and breaths out a laugh. How does she even answer this? She could be honest, lay her cards on the table, and tell him all about her mum. Or she could be partially honest and tell him that her mum just doesn’t make time for her. Or she could blatantly lie, she’s on her period or something like that. As she weighs up her options she lets out a barely audible hum and Matty cocks his head at her.

“It’s just my mum. She never makes time for me. Refused to give me a lift and I didn’t want to cancel so I biked here. That’s all, I’m okay now, spending time with you guys makes me okay.” Matty’s head falls to rest on Sadie’s shoulder silently. He doesn’t know what to say to her, so he just starts strumming the guitar again. A smile rests on Sadie’s slightly pink cheeks as she hums along to the song Matty is playing, she doesn’t know it to name, but she definitely knows it. “I didn’t think I’d actually make friends in high school.” Matty doesn’t say anything for a minute, processing Sadie’s words.

“Of course you were gonna make friends. I think you’re too good to just be our friend, frankly I’m shocked you put up with our bullshit.” Another beat of silence falls upon the pair. “Just come here if your mum’s being a pain, we’ll cheer you right up.” Sadie smiles at this and feels tears brimming her eyes, and she doesn’t know why. At the sudden sound of the door opening Matty lifts her head and Sadie rubs at her eyes.

“Right, Sadie, I’ve just tried phoning your house phone three times to no answer, so the spare room is set up for you, let me know when you pair decide to sleep.” Sadie doesn’t hear much of what Denise said after hearing that her house was phoned three times, and nobody answered. What if something had happened to her? She sighs and smiles up at Denise from the floor, thanking her before picking at the loose pieces of carpet on the floor. When the door shuts, the tears flow. Matty has never been more panicked in his entire life, he thinks. How the fuck do you comfort your crying best friend?!

“Hey, hey. Come here.” He wraps an arm around her shoulder and all she can do is sigh. She knows if she speaks it’ll end in even more tears, her voice will refuse to work. She gives in and leans into Matty’s touch, the weather outside is a stark contrast to how she feels under his arm. After a few minutes of her silently crying, she dares a glance up at him and sees him staring at the wall across from him with slightly widened eyes, the sight makes her giggle, breaking him from his trance. He looks down at her and joins in the laughter, not knowing why they’re laughing but glad she’s not crying as hard anymore. Yet his eyes widen again when she stops laughing and opens her mouth.

“I want to know why they don’t care about me. I haven’t done anything.” Matty sighs at this, a sick part of his brain wishes he could relate just so he’d know what to say. He looks down at Sadie who is now lying on his floor, upside down from where he sits. He lays down next to her, top and tail, both teenagers looking up at the ceiling, feeling things too big for them to even comprehend, things they shouldn’t have to feel. “Sorry, I feel like the mood is ruined.”

“What mood? You’ve been off all day, making me feel sad. I wish I could make it better.”

“I wish you could, too.”

Sadie has no desire to celebrate her 15th birthday that following Summer. But she’s been faced with no choice. In George’s words they “had to because you only turn 15 once.” George had turned 15 earlier that year and didn’t seem to share that sentiment on his birthday, all they did was go to Matty’s house after school and sit in his living room for six hours. But he was insistent that the group had to go out for dinner, he’d gotten Denise on his side which ultimately led to Sadie agreeing. Her mother wasn’t best pleased, but she’d grown to not care, and her mothers grown to know she can’t fight her anymore.

She got dressed in rapid speed, desperate to get out of the house and reunite with her best friends. She hadn’t even gotten as much as a card from her parents and that says more to her than any words could have, she isn’t even sure they know her birthday is today. Pulling on her jeans, probably quicker than the speed of light, she grabs her jacket and runs down the stairs, she shouts a bye to anyone who cares and hops on her bike to Matty’s house. They’re all meeting there for some big surprise before they go out to dinner.

The August sun is beaming down on her face, she pauses and squints up at the sky and notices how blue it is, she smiles and looks back down at her bike. She decides that draping her jacket over the handlebars is a better idea, her backpack is half on her back because she was in such a rush. When she bikes the familiar back road she takes note of how the trees have turned from pathetic twigs to bright green scenery, she shuts her eyes for a second and let the Summer air infiltrate her lungs. She is grateful to be alive.

When she biked round the corner at the end of Matty’s road she could see all the boys engaged in a water fight, her urge to turn right back around grows stronger the closer she gets, George’s pathetic screams and Matty’s maniacal laughter grow louder, and she can’t help but laugh to herself. She hears Denise scolding Ross for going too rough and shakes her head as she throws her bike down on the driveway, climbing off and running away from all the boys who immediately turn on her with their water attacks. “Hey!! Stop, it’s my birthday!”

George laughs louder than Sadie had ever heard someone laugh before, probably because the boys weren’t targeting him anymore. She squeals and tries to run into the house, but Adam blocks the door, and she feels more water shooting at the back of her head. She hits his chest and tells him to move at least fifty times, but he doesn’t budge so she runs. She runs round the house to the back garden where she knows Matty keeps the water guns, just as she suspected there’s a pile of them, half-full, on the grass. Sure, they’re the shit ones, but they’ll do the job.

She hears a gasp behind her. “She’s found the pile, run.” She laughs and whips herself around, gun in each hand, to the pathetic squeals of four boys who run back around to the front of the house. There’s a knock on the kitchen window which distracts Sadie for a second, she sees Denise waving wildly at her, she waves back and sees her saying “Happy Birthday!” She laughs and runs round the house to get the boys back.

A half hour later Denise calls out the front door for them to come in. They all race into the house, Matty being shoved by George and Sadie laughing so hard she stops in her tracks. She gets stopped in her tracks even further when she sees the pile of gifts under the TV. She gasps quietly and barely hears everyone wishing her a happy birthday in unison, the tears pricking her eyes are stinging the back of her throat. This is the most anyone’s done for her birthday. George puts an arm round her shoulder and shakes her slightly, then slightly shoves her to the presents. “Save the one with the pink wrapping paper for last.”

Sadie’s bottom lip wobbles and she lets out an exasperated laugh. “Guys, this is too much. I don’t even know what to say.” She moves towards the gifts as if they’re going to jump out and scare her. She sees the three cards on the top and picks them up, sitting down on the floor in front of the TV. The boys, Denise, Tim, and Louis are all scattered across the couches and the floor too, just watching. She opens the one from Denise, Tim, and Louis first and smiles through teary eyes at the kind words written on the page. She has the same reaction to the other two cards, one from all the boys, one from just Matty.

After a while Sadie’s face is wet with tears, she’d laughed at some of the funny gifts, and with her new necklace round her neck she looked at the last gift, the pink one, cautiously. “Is it alive? Am I gonna be scared?” Matty laughs and shakes his head. She lifts it into her lap and looks at the tag, it reads that it’s from the boys. Before she opens it Denise cuts in.

“They all saved up for this on their own. Came up with the idea and everything.” Sadie looks to the group of boys on the other couch who all look very smug, she rolls her eyes at their faces and turns back to the gift. She carefully unwraps it and can’t help the sob that comes out of her mouth. The new Sony camera is sitting in front of her. When she gets hold of herself she opens the box and gasps at the sight of it. “Guys, oh my god. I can’t take this, you’re kidding.”

“Well, none of us know how to use it.” Sadie tackles the four of them into her arms, jumping on top of them all on the couch, muttering a hundred thank yous under her breath. She doesn’t even know how the boys managed to afford it, maybe some of Matty’s odd jobs he was doing helped, or Ross’ job down at the shop. She didn’t know, but she knew she would never forget this. Sadie felt that same feeling again from earlier. She was grateful to be alive.

By the time Matty’s 18th rolls around, the rest of the group have a plan. They’ve all saved up enough money to buy tickets to Leeds festival, and they’ve all chipped in to get one for Matty’s birthday. Sadie wasn’t allowed to go before, but Denise gave in this year and let her tag along with the group. She makes all of the parental decisions for Sadie now, since she pretty much lives at the Healy’s house. Denise’s reasoning was that it would be after her 17th birthday, deeming her old enough to go. Matty, Ross, Adam and Jamie had gone last year but all they had talked about when they came back to Sadie and George was how excited they were to go next year, the full group.

Ross, George and Sadie were currently sat in Matty’s back garden, waiting for Matty and Adam to get home from work. Sadie and Ross were sharing a cigarette and talking about the lineup for Leeds. More like arguing. George was observing with a cigarette of his own, he’d only spared one to the duo because he’s stingy. “No, Sadie. Nine Inch Nails are more exciting than the fucking Smashing Pumpkins. Think of it, you’re in a muddy field what would you rather listen to.”

Sadie looks at him like he’d grown a second head. “The Smashing Pumpkins.” Ross just groans, George laughs loudly. “What?! I would!”

“You’re actually fucked in the head, Sadie. George, please back me up.” He passes the cig back to Sadie who takes it and looks at George with a raised eyebrow. He takes a sip of his coke and looks away from the pair, whistling at the sky. Sadie laughs and passes the cigarette back to Ross. He tells her to finish it, so she does.

“No, to be fair to both of you, I’d rather be at Paramore. If I had to choose.” Sadie and Ross both share a look and collapse into each other laughing.

“Okay, one, Paramore is on Sunday, we’re talking about Friday. And two, they weren’t even in the equation to begin with.” Ross nods at Sadie’s words and George just sticks his middle finger up at the pair, who laugh at him again. They hear the back door opening and turn to see Matty, they shut up about their prior argument quite quickly. The trio share a look and have to hide their laughs.

“Hello boys. And Sadie.” They nod up at Matty who cracks open his coke and pours it over the ice in his glass. He looks at the three that have gone silent and squints his eyes slightly before taking a sip of his coke and lighting a cig. Sadie looks at the other two who are giving her looks as if to say, “Say something.”

She turns back to Matty, who turns to her. “How was work?” George lets out a barely audible groan and she looks at him incredulously. Matty nods around his glass and then kind of shakes his head.

“It was okay, not busy, boring. I like it there, though.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome for getting you that job. I’ve been there for like a year now. Remember when I walked in one day and George was just standing in the kitchen? That was stupid.” George laughs at her and she turns to him. “No, I was so confused.”

“I was working, where did you want me to stand?”

“It would’ve been nice to know you were working at the fucking place?” George shakes his head.

“Wanted to surprise you.”

“Some surprise that is, George!” He, yet again, sticks his middle finger up at her. This time she does it back. Matty scoffs and leans his head back with a sigh, he stretches his arms and one of them comes to rest on the back of the bench behind Sadie.

She points up at the sky, the sun is setting behind the clouds which cast a pink hue down on the group of four. They stay outside until the sun is probably in the middle of the sky in Australia. Adam arrives not long after Matty and Sadie gives him a subtle nod and thumbs up, trying to tell him that they got the Leeds tickets today. He looks confused at first, but he gets it after a minute. When Matty goes inside the four speak in whispers about how they have to tell Matty, because George is unable to keep it a secret. The back door swings open again and the four sit up straight. “Right, you guys are hiding something from me.” Sadie can’t help herself.

“We’re going to Leeds.”

Leeds was a fucking nightmare. Everyone fought. Everyone made up. Then they fought again. They all got so high they probably couldn’t see. Ross and Sadie ended up seeing Nine Inch Nails together after losing everyone else, and despite being in the clouds, Sadie remembered to act like she didn’t want to be there. Until she actually started enjoying herself. And George got to see Paramore. Almost. He passed out and Sadie shouted at him in the medical tent after he just came to because she was missing out, she was forced to take him to the medical tent.

Sadie was sick on some girl’s shoes at the Kings of Leon set. It was her, George and Adam having the time of their lives until some older girl started flirting with George, obviously he was loving it, but Sadie was already having a bad high and when she saw the way that girl was looking at George she just couldn’t help it! It all kicked off when George and the girl teamed up and tried to fight her. George was forced to take her to medical and as she was thrown over his shoulder he was yelling about how she’d ruined the weekend.

Safe to say the drive home was silent. Matty had the biggest hangover behind the wheel and Ross was cradling Sadie in the backseat as if she were his child, George was practically hanging out the window on the other side of Sadie. The one memory she has in the car is when they were all sat on the grass, ages away from any music, when Matty turned to the boys and said, “Reckon we’ll be on one of these stages soon?” The question was ringing through Sadie’s mind.

A few days later the group were all sat in Matty’s garden (like usual) with drinks in hand, reminiscing on the festival after they’d all taken some much needed time away from each other. Anytime Matty’s eyes caught hers she felt her heart stop. She isn’t sure he remembers but the day after they got back Sadie jolted awake with a vision of her kissing Matty. She doesn’t know when or if it actually happened, but it seemed too real to be something she conjured up in the middle of the night. Ever since, she’ll wake up in a cold sweat with visions of Matty’s lips on hers. She remembers it being a life-changing kiss, though, so there’s that at least.     

Sadie makes a point to be the last to leave Matty’s house, she’ll probably end up sleeping here tonight, like usual. It’s a rare sight to see Sadie sleeping in her own bed these days, it probably occurs once a month at most. When Adam shuts the door behind him, Sadie feels her heart fall out of her ass, the silence is less than comfortable. If she can feel the shift in energy surely Matty can. He sits down beside her and turns to her. “Do you remember?”

Sadie feels like she’s died in her seat. Her eyes have practically fallen out onto the dining table. She spins her glass on the table awkwardly, thinking of what to say. What would he say if she lied? Would he pretend it never happened? She decides not to lie, because when his face is as close to hers as it is right now, she thinks she’d like to kiss him again. “Yeah… Do you?”

“Wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t, hmm?” Sadie feels like her 14 year old self, meeting him for the first time. Her face is flushed pink, she’s picking at the tracksuit bottoms on her thighs, and she’s avoiding eye contact. She wishes the ground would eat her alive, because one thing about Sadie is she doesn’t know how to flirt. “Hurt me seeing you kiss that other guy the next day.” As he says this his hand has come up to play with the loose strand of hair that had fallen out of the front of her ponytail. She looks up at him through her eyelashes. Her voice is no louder than a mutter.

“Sorry, didn’t know what I was doing, don’t even think I knew where I was.” Matty laughs softly at this and looks down at his lap, but his eyes catch Sadie’s nervously picking at the loose thread on the seam of her tracksuit. He feels his heart skip a beat as he grabs it. This makes her face him, looking into his eyes. The silence around them is suffocating and Sadie feels like she might pass out on the floor. When he makes the move to shuffle slightly closer, she smirks at his face. She doesn’t know where she grew the confidence but when she mutters, “Just do it.” He breaks the distance.

The butterflies in her stomach feel cliché, the way the kiss picks up in pace feels even more so. His lips on hers feels like coming home to your own bed after you’ve been abroad for a week. It feels like the smell of your own house after being away for a while. She knows that when her hand comes up to the back of his neck that it holds an ulterior motive, this is confirmed by his hand on her hip, guiding her closer. She wants to consume him in this moment. When they break away for a breather, Sadie doesn’t open her eyes, she doesn’t want to face this moment, but when she feels a squeeze on her hip she can’t help but open one eye. Matty laughs and leans his forehead to hers.

“Sleep in my room tonight.” That’s all that Sadie has ever wanted to hear.

The slight fling between Sadie and Matty didn’t really last for very long. The group all moved into a flat together and the flame between them just kind of flickered out. George noticed the change in Sadie’s demeanour ever since. He was the only other person who knew about Matty and Sadie, but because he was the best friend of both he had to be there for both. It was eating him alive. He was laying in Sadie’s bedroom, joint between his lips. They were sharing it.

“He fucks anything with legs. But I can’t move on. What’s with that?” Sadie plucked the joint from George’s mouth, and he rubs his eyes his face with a groan. He watches the smoke leaving Sadie’s lips intensely, staring at the way it clouds up in the air and dissipates into nothingness, this is how Sadie and Matty’s relationship felt. He sits up slightly on the bed with an indignant sigh.

“His way of coping, I suppose. He didn’t exactly get an explanation as to why you stopped sleeping in his room. Now he just needs someone sleeping there to fill that void for him.” It’s Sadie’s turn to sigh now. She knows George is right, but she doesn’t like the answer and she doesn’t want to hear that he’s suffering. He’s being a bitch and he should just come and speak to her. Silence falls over the duo and George stubs out the joint gently before opening his arms for Sadie.

She isn’t feeling very grateful to be alive.

[vanillablankcanvas]

Part 10 Trolls Headcanons/ Theories/ Thoughts/ Ideas

This may be my last headcanons list, my friends. Will still do art and stuff but I am fresh outta ideas.

Part1 Part2 Part3 Part4 Part5 Part6 Part7 Part8 Part9

Enjoy 💕

Sub Tribes - KPop/Reggaeton/Yodelers/Chaz etc. there's not many of them around because they came from overseas.

King Peppy - Didn't tell Poppy about Viva because he was in the early stages of dementia. (Canon?) For a while he thought Poppy WAS Viva. By the time he realised his 'mistake', Poppy was already grown.

Vacay Island - the brothers sometimes help Bruce at his restaurant. They have name tags with funny 'work names'. Flood, Big Fish, Classy, and Big Brunch. Viva and Poppy have done the odd shift as well, as Pinky and Vista. 😝

Brozone - they became world famous, argued and left BEFORE the cage went around the Pop Troll Tree. (Canon?)

Brozone - there was a rumoured 'unfinished' Brozone song that was supposed to be released after that tour. John finally finishes it and the brothers offer to sing it for Poppy's bridal entrance song. Poppy immediately faints. In my head the song is 'Helpless When She Smiles' by The Backstreet Boys

Brozone - whatever the Trolls equivalent of the Superbowl is, I feel like Bruce and JD would be very into it. Jerseys and face paint and everything.

Bruce - cameras make him self-conscious. If he is in a group he can tolerate it but hates being the only one in the photo.

Bruce - has caught his kids trying to do the Brozone dance routines. He tries to stay out of it best he can and let them have their fun but then they ask him to teach them and doesn't he just melt.

Bruce - has a wedding ring but it is Vacationer sized. He keeps it in his hair mostly but will braid it into his hair like an accessory for special occasions.

Bruce - 100% certain Poppy and Branch's first born would be a boy. "We're a family of five brothers! It took Brandy and I thirteen tries to have a daughter. Trust me, I have no doubt your first egg will absolutely be a boy." *They have a girl* Bruce 😑

Floyd - can only sleep comfortably near an open window. Sometimes can only sleep sitting up.

Floyd - will randomly stare off into space or mutter to himself.

Floyd - *clears throat* I ship Floom! 💕🏳️‍🌈

Floyd - can't stick to new hobbies for very long, he hyperfixates for a week or two then gets bored. Macrame, candle making, soap making, jewelry making, photography are some examples.

Clay - his brothers collectively tried to convince him that he was the adopted brother.

Clay - is quite squeamish. The sight of vomit, open wounds and bodily fluids; Clay will absolutely pass out. Snotty babies make him very uncomfortable.

Clay - gets Viva to braid his hair out of his face only when something really serious is happening *cracks neck* "Viva?" "Yah?" "Braid me" "Yes, Sir." Shwoooop

Clay - Found out the Classical Trolls have a library larger the Pop Village. "Viva, they have a whole wing dedicated to tragedies! Tragedies, Viva!"

Clay - okay, so he and Viva have never been a couple, even if he ever considered it, their work came first and he didn't want to jeopardize what they had. Buuuuuuuttt the thought that another Troll could one day be Viva's person, that she would go to them instead of him for comfort or ideas or laughs or safety or hugs... it makes Clay feel... weird.

Clay - at some point is named some kinda Troll magazines most eligible bachelor. Bro was in a boyband, co-runs a society of survivors, runs a business, is close friends with royalty, has been knighted, has a license to practice accounting and was part of the only known Perfect Family Harmony. He's apparently a hot commodity now.

John Dory - takes night classes to finally get his highschool diploma. Is too embarrassed to tell anyone until he graduates.

John Dory - doesn't get sick often. But when he does, he keeps going to the point of exhaustion.

John Dory - has indeed crossed paths with Delta Dawn before. Both of them have very different versions of the story. "I serenaded her." "The fool was whining something from the inside of a jail cell."

John Dory - has been known to sleep with his eyes open. Freaks people out.

John Dory - will drink milk straight from the carton and put it back in the fridge.

John Dory - teaches Bruce's kids all the swear words and does in fact tell them his rendition of where eggs come from.

Viva - tries to hide sadder feelings from Poppy. Worried that Poppy won't want to hang out with her if she isn't fun.

Poppy - sometimes feels guilty, if things had been different, Viva would have been Queen. Viva tries to reassure Poppy that she is "The right Troll for the role." 👍🏻 Also Viva tries to argue that they both technically get be Queens now anyway.

Guy Diamond - Trolls have eggs when they have powerful feelings of love. Guy Diamond was able to have Tiny because he loves himself so much.

[evans23]

RICKMAS 2024 - DAY 5 - Open Doors

Pairing : Sinclair Bryant x OC (Contessina)

Summary : Five Christmases during which Sinclair realises that sometimes, closing one door opens a thousand others.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Mention of incest.

A/N : Puppy boy is back !

Also on AO3

December 24, 2020

Sinclair, for the first time in his 39 years of existence, did not feel like celebrating Christmas. His divorce had been finalized at the very end of November. A difficult divorce, not so much because of his ex-wife who had too much to reproach herself for to really argue about silver vases and spoons, but for the nature of the betrayal.

Sinclair wasn't in the mood to celebrate, but William, his friend and the judge who had finalized his divorce had insisted, telling him that he had been moping for a year now and that it was high time to move on. Or at least try. And it was not like Sinclair not to try.

"Sinclair, my friend, life is a succession of rooms and in each room, there are people who mark your life for better or for worse. Natalie was not a good person and I am sorry for what she did to you, but it is time for you to close this door and open a new one," William had wisely said.

And Sinclair had given in. Not really because he had been convinced by the philosophy of doors and rooms, but because he did not really want to be alone for Christmas, and deep down, he knew that his friend was right. It was time to move on, to turn the page, to close the door. His parents were on a trip to Sardinia and all his friends and colleagues had family plans when he had to mourn the family he would never have.

Family... a word that left a bitter taste in Sinclair's mouth, he who had believed he had found his soul mate in Natalie and the mother of his children. Now he wasn't so sure he'd ever have the chance to have children. He wasn't sure he'd ever fall in love again.

Sinclair shook his head as if to shake off all the bad memories. He was in front of William's house, a bottle of his best champagne in his hand. Sinclair had learned at a young age from his own father that one should never arrive empty-handed. His friend's sumptuous house, which was more of a small manor than a house, had been sumptuously decorated by his wife while the buffet - prepared by professionals - already had his mouth watering in anticipation.

Sinclair rang the bell and William greeted him with reserved kindness.

"You've come ! That's good ! Come in, hurry up."

"For your table," Sinclair said, handing him the bottle.

"A Dom Pérignon ! You shouldn't have," William said, taking the bottle with sparkling eyes.

Sinclair then lingered by the fireplace. It was not his habit, he usually so outgoing, ready to become friends with everyone, he who always had something to say found himself petrified. Natalie had left much more of a mark on his soul than he himself would have believed.

That's when he saw her. Alone in a corner, she seemed to want to disappear, like him. She didn't seem to be from the same world as Richard, or even Sinclair. Probably a friend of his wife who was the headmistress of a private school for girls in central London. Intrigued, Sinclair approached to greet her. She was pretty in her purple dress, a dress he was sure to have seen on a famous singer but he couldn't remember her name.

"Are you all right?" he asked kindly.

She just nodded with a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. But beneath her apparent coldness, Sinclair could see a gentleness and a light that was just waiting to be revealed.

"My name is Sinclair. Sinclair Bryant," he introduced himself.

"Nice to meet you, Sinclair, I'm Contessina," she replied softly.

"It's a very pretty name," Sinclair said sincerely, "not very English," he added with a twinkle of curiosity in his eye.

"My father is Italian," she replied before quickly adding that her mother was English, as if having mixed ancestry was a fault.

Sinclair told her about a trip he had taken to Rome. She admitted, shyly, that she had never had the opportunity to set foot in Italy. Sinclair sensed her unease, so he tried not to brag too much about his travels across Europe. Contessina and he must have had very different childhoods. Sinclair had grown up with a father who had one foot in business and the other in politics and a mother who was a lawyer who had put her career on hold to take care of him after his birth, a sacrifice she had never regretted because in her opinion, her son was her greatest achievement.

"Are you friends with William or his wife?" Sinclair asked casually.

"His wife. I work for her. I teach English and drama."

"Oh ! Are you acting in theatre ?" Sinclair asked with renewed enthusiasm.

Contessina seemed as enthusiastic as Sinclair to talk about one of her passions. And the conversation continued with Sinclair's incessant questions that didn't seem to bother her in the least.

interlocutor, though she asked few in return.

He knew before the meal that she had spent two years at drama school before having to drop out when her parents could no longer afford to pay for her tuition. She had failed to get a scholarship, so she had worked a series of unfulfilling jobs before settling on teaching. It had not been her dream career, at least not when she was a teenager, but she had eventually found a certain comfort in it that had erased her past failures. She lived alone in London, her father having moved to Blairgowrie after her mother died to be closer to his brother, and Sinclair could tell that she must not have made friends easily. She was reserved, though not without wit and intelligence. Talking to her was a treat. She could talk about anything and was not ashamed to admit when she did not know something. But most of all, she was interested in what he was saying and that was a change for Sinclair.

During the meal, he made sure to sit next to her. They continued to talk about everything and nothing and for the first time in a long time, the weight in Sinclair's chest had gone away. He wasn't thinking about the events of almost two years ago. There was no more Natalie, Richard, betrayal in his parents' bed, under his own roof, before his eyes and the eyes of the housekeeper.

Shortly before midnight, the two were sipping a glass of Sinclair's champagne. She had finally dared to ask Sinclair what he did for a living and, although she admitted that she didn't understand much about his job, she listened to him talk passionately about what he did and his clients... who sometimes had unconventional habits.

Midnight finally struck, Christmas arrived and Sinclair felt that in a few days, the new year would finally bring him new peace.

"Merry Christmas, Sinclair," she said with her enigmatic smirk.

"Merry Christmas, Contessina."

A half hour later, much to Sinclair's dismay, she was leaving the party.

"I can give you a ride if you want ?" he offered.

"No, it's not necessary, I don't live far away."

Sinclair doubted it. She was in one of the most expensive neighbourhood in the city, but he didn't insist.

"I was glad to have you as my companion for the evening," she added as she put on her coat and scarf.

"Me too !" Sinclair exclaimed with a big smile, "I didn't notice the time go by."

He watched her go down the steps when suddenly she turned around.

"Sinclair ?"

"Yes ?"

"You should smile more often. It suits you."

And without adding anything else, she disappeared into the night, leaving those simple words etched in Sinclair's mind forever.

He had felt something new but he had preferred not to push it further. He could have asked William to find his phone number, to get everything she knew about Contessina from his wife, but he didn't. He wasn't ready to be hurt again.

However, fate seemed to want to put Contessina in his path. Three months later, Sinclair saw her again at a market. She was buying small perfumes to offer to her students for Easter which would soon arrive and, as if she were a magnet that attracted him, Sinclair had not been able to turn around to avoid her. He had invited her to share lunch with him, then dinner and after that, there had been other dinners, evenings at the movies, galas for his work and then a whole weekend at his place, then a whole week. And slowly but surely, Contessina had made her way into his heart just as Sinclair had made his way into the young woman's.

December 24, 2021

Over the months, the relationship between Sinclair and Contessina had evolved, had built itself, without rushing, with caution, with respect, with trust. There wasn't a day when the two did not see each other and tonight, Sinclair wanted to take an important step.

It was the first Christmas that Sinclair had had at his place since his divorce and he had decided to do things simply. Contessina was his only guest. He had cooked a simple, unpretentious meal and bought a dessert from his favourite bakery, a dessert without fruit since Contessina had once told him that a dessert with fruit wasn't a real dessert.

The table was elegant. Sinclair had set a white and gold tablecloth on which he had placed candles and a few flowers prettily arranged in the vases he had inherited from his grandmother. In the background, he had put on Christmas carols, as cliché as they come.

"It's beautiful, Sinclair," Contessina said as she discovered the dining room.

Near the door that led to the veranda, the large fir tree dominated, splendid with its multi-coloured light garland and its glass balls.

"Is this a real tree ?" she asked, gently touching the needles.

"Yes. My father didn't like artificial trees. We always had real trees at my house."

"It's funny, my mother didn't like real trees so we always had a synthetic one. A faded green tree. But it didn't take away from the warmth of the party."

It was the first time she wasn't spending Christmas with her dad, but she knew he was fine, doing it with his brother and his family and most important : he was happy that his daughter seemed to have found a good man. He had met Sinclair thrice and he have had a very good impression of the man. 

Sinclair smiled at her, gently kissing her temple. Contessina brought a simplicity to his life that he had never known. She didn't seek luxury, she wasn't after her money and she liked simple things. This wasn't really the case for Sinclair who had grown up with money and firmly believed in spending it. He liked beautiful things and collecting expensive objects, but this contrast between them brought a certain balance to his life, a balance that did him good.

"I hope you like it. I spent hours in the kitchen," Sinclair said as he arranged the dishes on the table.

Contessina hadn't imagined that Sinclair was the cooking type, and she was pleasantly surprised, even touched by the attention he had put into making everything perfect for their first Christmas just the two of them.

A little before midnight, Sinclair decreed that it was time to open the presents, as excited as a child, which made Contessina laugh with a crystal-clear laugh that, after a year, still made Sinclair shiver.

"Mine first," she said as she handed him a large package that weighed quite a bit in his small hands.

Sinclair unwrapped it without ceremony and his eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and joy.

"Where did you get that ?" he asked incredulously.

"One of my colleagues knows someone who knows someone who works for an antique dealer."

Sinclair shook his head in disbelief.

"Are you happy ?" she asked shyly.

"Am I happy ? Contessina, you managed to find that impossible to find book of poems ! I didn't even think you would remember it !"

Sinclair kissed her tenderly and a slight red colour rose on the young woman's cheeks. Of course she had remembered what he had told her. She was like that, reserved, speaking little although she had many interesting things to say, but she always remembered the important things. Like him, except that Sinclair talked to her all the time.

"Mine now," he said, handing her a very small box.

She unpacked it carefully to find a key. She looked up at him questioningly, one eyebrow raised.

"This is the key to here," Sinclair explained. "All this coming and going... it's a bit redundant, isn't it? And you're here more often than you're in your shared apartment. Stop spending your money to live in this chicken coop and move in with me."

She looked at him, unsure of what to say, and Sinclair felt panic rising in him. Had he wanted to move too fast ?

"Are you serious ?" she finally asked, "I thought you weren't ready," she added.

"I thought so too, but that was before. Contessina, I want to move on. It's time for me to open a new door, to enter a new room, and I want to be in this room with you. I want you to be the one to mark my life for the better."

Contessina squeezed the key between her fingers, nodding briskly, her eyes slightly moist.

"Is that a yes ?"

"That's a yes," she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss him.

"This is the most enjoyable Christmas I've ever had," Sinclair said, resting his forehead against Contessina's.

December 24, 2022

It had been almost a year since Contessina had moved in with Sinclair. They had gotten to know each other better, to live together, to discover and accommodate each other's little flaws. They had had their first fight, their second, their third, but they had never gone to bed angry. That was Contessina's rule: he always had to settle their differences before he went to sleep.

Sinclair's rule was that he should never hide anything from each other. He wanted honesty, even if it hurt. She shouldn't hide anything from him, neither her sorrows, nor her torments, nor what annoyed her about him and above all, above all, if one day she fell in love with someone else, she had to tell him. She should never make fun of him.

Sinclair had insisted so much on this last point that Contessina had timidly asked him if he had been betrayed in the past. Sinclair had hesitated, but in the end, he had told her everything. He owed her that much, after all if he demanded total honesty from her, he had to be so with her in return. Contessina couldn't hold back her grimace of disgust when Sinclair had told her that Natalie had slept with her own brother, in the sheets of her parents' bed.

"When you say her brother... you mean her half-brother, right ? Not a real brother right ? They don't really have blood in common," Contessina had asked.

"No, her real blood brother by blood," Sinclair had coldly answered.

It had made her feel sick. How could this woman she didn't know but never wanted to meet, firstly betray a man like Sinclair who would have served her the moon on a silver platter if she had asked for it, and secondly with her own brother ? 

And to top it all off, she had the nerve to get fucked like the female dog she was in Sinclair's parents' bed.

But this revelation had helped Contessina to better understand Sinclair, to better understand some of his behaviours and to definitively tolerate his possessiveness and his slight jealousy that had annoyed her a little at first.

Sinclair felt that he didn't really have any reason to doubt her. He didn't imagine her as the type to sleep with another and she was an only child. But he had wounds that didn't would never truly heal and he couldn't put to sleep that primal instinct that had awakened in him when he realized he was in love with her. That instinct that pushed him to protect what was his, in this case her. He loved her, deeply. She was his second chance and he couldn't bear to have his happiness taken away from him again. She was his redemption.

That Christmas, he was spending it at Sinclair's parents' house. It wasn't the first time he'd taken her there, but it was the first time she'd celebrate Christmas with them. He'd been reassured when his mother had told him one evening on the phone that she adored her. She was kind, polite, well-mannered and much more cultured than "the other one".

Of course, Sinclair's parents didn't know the whole story, he had been too ashamed to tell them that apparently he was such a poor husband that his wife had needed to find comfort in sticking his brother's penis in her sheath, but when he had told them of their divorce, he had been surprised to see the relief of his parents who had finally admitted to him that they had never loved him.

"She wasn't the one for you," his mother had whispered to him, "but she, Contessina... she can hold a conversation with you. She's interested in what interests you even if at first she thought she wouldn't like it. She reads your books, she watches the movies you like... and you do the same... She's the one, my boy."

His mother's approval that night had definitively erased any doubts he had been able to harbour. And as midnight struck and everyone exchanged enthusiastic "Merry Christmas," Sinclair watched Contessina get a kiss on the cheek from her slightly tipsy father and smiled. He had done well three years ago to agree to try to close the door to his past and open a new one a crack. He had done so shyly, but that half-open door that had pushed him to accept William's invitation had introduced him to Contessina. She was in the right room at the right time and his life had changed.

December 24, 2023

Sinclair and Contessina had flown to Italy five days earlier. He had promised to show her Rome and he had kept his word. He had taken him to all the tourist spots, from the Colosseum to the Vatican, had made him eat pizza at what he thought was the best pizzeria in the city, and had convinced him to eat "the best ice cream in the whole world" despite the bitter winter cold.

On this Christmas Eve, they were sitting at a table in a fancy restaurant that Sinclair had booked for the privacy it offered. In their alcove, away from prying eyes, they shared different varieties of pasta, grilled meats, and tasty vegetables.

"I'm so happy to be here with you," Sinclair told him as he poured him a glass of champagne.

"And I'm so grateful that you introduced me to Italy," she said, her eyes sparkling with joy.

"We'll see many other places, I promise. How about Paris for the spring ? And maybe Florence for the summer ? You wanted to see where Da Vinci had lived, right ?"

"Sinclair ! You spoil me too much," Contessina replied, a slight pinkness on her cheeks.

"Nothing is too much for you," Sinclair replied firmly.

And he meant it. She brought him a happiness, a joy that he thought he would never find again. He had known many people since his childhood. Each one in different rooms, each one who had marked him, hurt him, shaped him, broken him sometimes too. He had had to close many doors, open others, sometimes open windows when the doors refused to open, but he felt an endless gratitude for the door that had opened on this woman in front of him who looked at him as if he were the most wonderful person in the world.

Dessert arrived. A tiramisu, Contessina's favourite dessert, and fresh fruit. But before she could sink her fork into what she called the dessert of the Gods, Sinclair grabbed both of her hands in one of his.

Contessina raised her green eyes to Sinclair's, eyes in which he could read her soul and in his soul, the sincerity of the love she had for him. This was the moment, he was sure of it. The dim light of the restaurant reflected on his curved nose. His heart was beating wildly.

"Contessina, meeting you is the best thing that could have happened to me. I didn't think I'd get a second chance, but you are my second chance. And I just regret not having had the patience to wait longer for you to be my one and only chance."

He let go of her hands to take a small velvet box from the inside pocket of his jacket. Contessina briefly closed her eyes, sensing what was coming.

"Contessina," Sinclair began as he gently opened the box, "will you marry me ?"

The young woman's eyes immediately filled with tears she had been holding back. Before her was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. A sapphire surrounded by small diamonds set in a gold band.

"Contessina ?" Sinclair asked with emotion as she was slow to answer.

"Oh, Sinclair ! Yes ! Yes! A thousand times yes !"

Sinclair took her left hand and placed the ring on her ring finger, his own eyes misting with tears.

"I promise to be the best of husbands," Sinclair said as he kissed each of her fingers.

"And I promise to be the best of wives, Sinclair."

And seven months later, in a small, discreet church in Paddington, Sinclair and Contessina said yes to each other for better or for worse, even if Sinclair had no doubt that he would only get the best since he had already had the worst.

December 24, 2024

In his arms, Contessina had fallen asleep, still exhausted from the last few frightening days she had spent. Sinclair did not blame her, he knew that although she hid her weaknesses, and although he didn't doubt her strength, she still had to heal. Her body had been tested, more than it should have been. She had lost a lot of blood, but fortunately, the doctors had managed to stabilize her and had assured Sinclair that she would recover provided she stayed warm, hydrated and fed properly to regain her strength, and above all, had plenty of rest.

It had been their little secret for a long time. As long as she could hide it. On the wedding day, no one had noticed anything except Sinclair who could discern the subtle changes in the body of the woman he loved most in the world. He and apparently the father of his brand new wife, but he couldn't blame the old man for knowing his daughter so well.

When she had announced to him one evening in April that he was going to be a father, Sinclair, for the first time, had been at a loss for words, which had made the young woman burst out laughing.

"You fill me with joy," he had finally said, taking her in his arms and squeezing her with all his strength as if he was afraid she might disappear.

The pregnancy had not been easy. Contessina had nothing of the fulfilled mother-to-be. She threw up all the time, her back, legs and feet hurt all day long and at six months pregnant, she had to stop working when her placenta had slightly detached, causing bleeding that had nearly made Sinclair's heart stop.

But there had also been good times. The baby's first kicks as Sinclair, his head resting on his wife's belly, read him a Dickens story. His moments when his wife's eyes shone with an indefinable sparkle that made her even more radiant or how she had shone by his side, head held high despite her discomfort, during an important evening at Sinclair's work celebrating his brand new promotion.

There had also been the decorating of the baby's room, their little quarrel over whether or not he would know the sex of the baby - Sinclair absolutely wanted to have the surprise, and he had won - and all the evenings when, despite his own fatigue, Sinclair had patiently massaged his feet.

The baby had finally arrived two weeks early. Contessina had woken up in the middle of the night and Sinclair had woken up with a start when she had shaken him lightly.

"I think the baby is coming," she had said with tears in her eyes.

Without waiting, Sinclair had helped him put on a pair of jogging pants and one of his own t-shirts, had put him in the car where the maternity bag had already been in the trunk for over a month and had driven him to the hospital. And indeed, their little treasure, eager to celebrate Christmas with his parents, hadrents, were ready to show themselves. The delivery had been long, tiring, stressful, especially when she had started to lose so much blood that the doctors had had to take her to the operating room to perform an emergency cesarean, leaving Sinclair alone in a sanitized hallway that stank of disinfectant and where a rickety Christmas tree had been placed.

He had been afraid that night, afraid of losing his wife and child, of losing his child, or worse still of losing his wife. But the two of them had held on, two true warriors who had won this battle against life and death, who had broken down the door of survival.

And it was with joy that Sinclair had opened the door of their house to this new little being that he had loved at first sight. His flesh and blood. His son.

"Sinclair ?"

Sinclair came back to reality when he heard the voice of Contessina who had just woken up.

"Are you okay, my love ?" he asked her, smoothing a strand of her brown hair behind her ear while she was rubbed her eyes in a very cute way that reminded Sinclair their young baby.

She moaned slightly before sitting up with Sinclair's help, who, without her having to say it, guessed the pain she was still feeling.

"I think I could use a hot chocolate," she whispered, her voice still hoarse with sleep.

Sinclair immediately complied as she sat comfortably on the couch, noticing that Sinclair had just started the first episode of the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Her body was still aching. She knew she had to be patient. She had had a lucky escape in that operating room, that room where they had put her into an artificial sleep to get her baby out of her body, to save their lives.

When she woke up, in her hospital room, the two men of her life were there: her father and her husband. Finally, the three men of her life, since in her grandfather's arms was her son.

She would never forget the emotion she felt when Sinclair took the baby back to place him in his arms.

"I waited for you for the name," he had told her while kissing her on the forehead.

She briefly closed her eyes while smiling softly at her memories when Sinclair's voice brought her back to reality.

"My lady's hot chocolate. And mine," he said while placing two steaming cups, full of marshmallows, on the coffee table.

A small whimper was then heard right next to them, in the small crib that was in the living room.

"I'll get him," Sinclair said while standing up.

He came back with their little boy in his arms and sat next to Contessina who rested her head against his shoulder, as well as a protective hand on her son's stomach, which was still sensitive because he's difficult start in life. But with a loving mother and a strong and caring dad, he will be very soon becoming stronger.

"He's beautiful," Sinclair said, looking at him with the same wonder she had when the nurse had come to put him in her arms.

"He looks just like you," Contessina said, kissing Sinclair's cheek.

"Thank you," Sinclair said, his hazel eyes looking into his wife's.

"For telling you that our son looked like you ?"

"No, for coming into my life. For giving me hope in love again. For agreeing to marry me, for never telling me to go away when I talk too much, for genuinely caring about me, for always supporting me and him. Thank you for giving me our child. For giving me a family."

Contessina snuggled closer to him, moved.

"Thank you, Sinclair, for noticing me and for never thinking that I wasn't good enough to be in your life. In your world."

Sinclair rested his chin against the top of Contessina's skull without ever taking his eyes off their child. 

Thomas Sinclair Bryant. 

His son. His heir. The fruit of his love with the true woman of his life, the one with whom he would grow old and face the trials of illness, of old age, but not for a long time. 

Before being old and sick, they still had many things to experience together with their little boy. Many doors to close, many doors to open, rooms to explore. And Sinclair, overwhelmed by happiness, made a promise to himself to help his son get out of the rooms where the people who will be there will have bad intentions, to help him choose his path carefully, but above all, he would teach him that no matter the difficulties of life, the trials and sufferings, he should always have the courage to get up and open a new door.

[lunarubra]

So, here we are. This chapter is shorter than the others, but I wanted to wrap up the first part of the story in a sweet way, and this is what came out. It's pure fluff—I hope you like it! :) More will happen in the next parts, I just need to get back into writing and feel good about it. Thank you for being patient with me, and I’m sorry for the long wait. Comments make me very happy..

Pairing: Cillian x OC (Jiyan Fabris)

Summary: The end of the first part of the story, where they both finally found their balance.

Warning: English not my First Language, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort.

Words: 2266

Previous | Masterlist

Chapter 9 - Glow of the Water

“You know, I always expect the worst from this island, but I’m glad it surprises me sometimes,” Jiyan said with a playful smile.

Cillian, who was driving, shot her a mildly offended look. They had just left Galway, where the night before he’d celebrated the 35th anniversary of the local theatre with fellow actors and screenwriters. It was also where she finally met his famous friend Enda—the one he couldn’t stop talking about.

The event had been incredible—watching all the interconnected plays was engaging, and Jiyan finally got to see Cillian perform on stage, which was one of the most special things he shared with her. Afterward, the actors gathered at a local pub for a lively, traditional Irish night. It was the most fun Jiyan had had in months, especially watching Cillian and Enda get tipsy a bit too quickly, something she found endlessly amusing. Teasing her drunk boyfriend might have bordered on cruelty, but she had enjoyed it far too much to care.

The following morning, after a couple of Bloody Marys for Cillian—and tea for Jiyan, who still couldn’t understand why anyone would want to drink tomatoes (tomatoes were for cooking or salads, not for juice)—and a hearty breakfast, they set off for the coast. Jiyan hadn’t seen much of Ireland outside Dublin, except for a visit to Cork with Cillian, but she’d never explored the western coast or the countryside, which Cillian found hard to believe. She’d been in Ireland for nearly five months, as he reminded her while planning the trip, and still hadn’t visited some of its most beautiful spots. To him, that needed immediate fixing.

“What do you mean?” Cillian asked, frowning slightly.

“Well, you have to admit, as lovely as it is, it’s always raining. And when it’s not, the sun plays hide-and-seek with the clouds. I almost cried last week when the weatherman said we were in for a ‘nice week.’ You know why? Because that ‘nice week’ meant sixteen hours of sunshine. Sixteen hours. For the whole week! That has to violate the Geneva Convention or something.”

“The ‘weatherman’?” Cillian asked, amused.

“In Italy, we’d call him uccello del malaugurio—someone who only brings bad news and somehow makes it happen.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s not actually controlling the weather, love.”

“He’s bringing bad luck, I swear! I know you Irish are used to this, but I’m not. The other day, a woman probably thought I was lost. I kept weaving between buildings, crossing the street a thousand times, trying to chase the sun!”

Cillian stifled a groan, well aware of how frustrating it was to walk with her on sunny days. He almost preferred when it rained, because Jiyan would prepare like a marine about to head into battle—wrapped in two scarves, a beanie covering most of her face—and would march through the streets, efficient and fast. But on sunny days? It was like following an overexcited child with no sense of direction. She’d zigzag across the street, dodging every shadow cast by buildings, street lamps, anything that blocked the sun. She’d jaywalk without hesitation just to stay in the light, and sometimes she even abandoned the sidewalk to walk in the middle of the road. Needless to say, the neighbours had become extra watchful whenever Jiyan was out and about.

The playful banter faded naturally, giving way to the soft sound of Nina Simone’s voice, setting a relaxed, comfortable mood in the car. They were driving along a coastal road where the cliffs met the ocean, the peaceful day mirroring the calm inside. Unlike the stormy days before, the sea was serene, and the sun hung lazily on the horizon. Even with the windows closed, Jiyan could hear the distant calls of seagulls, blending perfectly with Nina Simone’s soothing voice from the speakers.

Cillian’s hand had unconsciously found its way to her leg, drawing lazy circles with his thumb, while Jiyan absentmindedly caressed his forearm. She felt more relaxed than she had in a long time, simply enjoying the scenery and the warm sunlight spilling through the window.

“So why do you say it surprises you?” he asked.

“Well, even though this isn’t exactly my kind of weather, it’s really beautiful—and I’m kind of surprised by that,” she joked, then turned toward him and took his hand. She smiled softly and paused for a moment. “Thank you for today.”

Cillian glanced at her, returning her smile as if trying to capture the moment forever—Jiyan with her wild hair escaping the messy bun, gazing out toward the ocean, her eyes reflecting the different shades of the water.

“We’re almost there,” he said, holding her hand and kissing it.

The trail seemed to fly by as they walked along the cliffs, the beauty of the landscape unlike anything Jiyan had ever experienced. She thought, if there was a place where the colour green had been invented, it had to be here.

They spent most of the hike chatting—getting into lively talks about European and American cinema and even a passionate debate over The Beatles over the Rolling Stones. But once they reached the Cliffs of Moher, the conversation faded, and Jiyan just stood there, quiet, taking in the stunning view.

She leaned back against Cillian’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Her hands rested on his, holding him as she soaked in the moment, lost in the scenery and the peacefulness surrounding them.

She snuggled deeper into Cillian’s embrace, letting out a contented sigh.

"I love this," she said softly, her voice barely louder than the wind. "It’s beautiful. I don’t think I’ve felt this at peace in... I can’t even remember when."

Cillian hummed in agreement, pulling her even closer. Her hair, tousled by the breeze, brushed against his chin as he pressed a soft kiss to the side of her head.

They stood there for a while, wrapped in each other and the wild beauty surrounding them. The cliffs stretched out endlessly, meeting the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean below. The sea, dark and restless, crashed against the rocks, but the horizon was calm, the late afternoon sun casting a golden light over everything.

"I’m glad you finally got to see this," Cillian murmured, his voice low. "I’ve been wanting to bring you here since we were in Cork."

Jiyan smiled, her gaze still fixed on the ocean. "I get it now. It’s... overwhelming in the best way. It feels like time just stops here."

Cillian chuckled softly, resting his chin on her shoulder. "That’s Ireland for you. It has a way of pulling you in, even when you least expect it."

She tilted her head slightly, looking up at him, her eyes warm and bright. "Thank you for bringing me here," she said, her voice softer and more intimate this time.

"Anytime," he whispered, giving her a gentle squeeze. "It’s moments like this that make all the rain and cloudy days worth it."

They stood together in comfortable silence, both lost in the tranquillity of the moment. Finally, Jiyan broke the stillness, her tone light but playful as she glanced up at him.

“If I had told Samyah last year that I’d find peace—and a whole new life—in Ireland, she probably would’ve staged an intervention,” Jiyan chuckled.

Cillian stiffened slightly, unsure of what to say. He hesitated for a moment before speaking. "You’ve never really talked again about... about what happened, about her. I didn’t want to pry."

Jiyan tightened her grip on his arms around her waist, as if steadying herself. She let out a soft breath. "I never really talked about what happened—before that day when I had the panic attack. It was too painful, and I just hoped I could forget it, lock it away. There are still things that happened after, but I'm not ready to talk about them yet. I don’t even know how to explain it. Then I met you, and I thought I could move on, be happy, and leave everything in the past. But it didn’t work like that. After we got back from Cork, after your sister’s birthday, the panic attacks started again."

"You didn’t tell me..." he said softly, his concern evident.

She turned in his arms to face him. "I know. I’m sorry. I just hoped that if I ignored it long enough, it would disappear."

Cillian cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing her cheek. "I don’t think it works that way, love."

"No, it doesn’t," she replied with a half-hearted smile, sadness lingering in her eyes. "That’s why I started seeing a therapist. And it’s helping… it’s helping a lot."

"You started therapy? When?" he asked, slightly surprised.

"Not long ago, I swear. I’m only on my third session," she said quickly. "I know I should’ve told you sooner, but I wanted to keep it to myself until I felt more comfortable. Honestly, I haven’t been the best patient... I’m not great at asking for help, and it took me a while to figure it out," she admitted. Her voice softened then, her eyes searching his. "Are you... is it okay?"

Cillian’s gaze fixed on her, and he gently placed his hands on her arms. "Am I...? Jiyan, of course. This is good. This is really good." He paused, trying to find the right words. "You’re one of the strongest people I know, but I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been dealing with everything that happened. I want to help, but sometimes... I'm really not sure how."

"Therapy is good—it’s so important," he continued, hesitating for a moment as he glanced around, almost like the scenery might give him the words he needed. "There were days when I could tell something was off. You seemed distant, and I thought giving you space was the right thing to do... that maybe you didn’t want to be pushed. I’m sorry if I wasn’t there when you needed me." he concluded lowering his gaze.

Jiyan shook her head gently, her eyes softening. "Cillian, you’ve already helped more than you know. You didn’t need to fix everything. You just had to be here, and you were. That’s all I needed."

He exhaled slowly, relieved by her words but still carrying a hint of hesitation. "I just... I hate that you went through this alone. I should’ve said something or done more."

She smiled, placing her hand over chest, just above his heart. "I’m working through a lot of things, but one thing I’m sure about... You came into my life exactly when I needed you. I wasn’t ready before, and I don’t think I would’ve let anyone in." Her voice softened as she continued, "But you made it safe for me. I know I shut down sometimes, but you’ve always been patient. You gave me space when I needed it and support when I couldn’t ask for it."

Cillian lowered his head, resting his forehead against hers. "I’m glad, but... I’m here, Jiyan. It’s not just you—I’m here," he emphasised again. "You don’t have to carry it all alone."

"I know," she whispered. "It’s not easy for me, but I’m learning that it’s okay to lean on people again."

They stood there for a moment, forehead to forehead, the gentle sound of the ocean filling the quiet between them. The weight of her words seemed to settle around them, but instead of feeling heavy, it brought a sense of lightness, as if a burden had finally been lifted.

Cillian stepped back slightly, gazing at the person who had entered his life like a hurricane and somehow filled every gap, every empty space inside him. He thought about all the times his friends or brother, after yet another failed relationship, had told him he’d just know when he met the right person. They said it would feel natural, intense, and effortless—he wouldn’t even have to think about it. And they were right. Before he realised it, he was completely connected to her.

“Tá mé i ngrá leat,” he murmured, feeling Jiyan stiffen slightly.

"You..." she started.

"You don’t have to say anything," he said gently. "I just... Tá mé i ngrá leat, Jiyan," he repeated, cupping her face.

“Ez jî ji te hez dikim,” she whispered back.

"What?" he asked, baffled.

"What, I know what you told me in Irish, and you don’t understand Kurdish?" she teased, a playful smile spreading across her face.

Cillian laughed softly, his expression warming. "I think you’ve got the advantage when it comes to languages, Aji."

"I love you too," she said again, this time more softly, and then kissed him slowly. She poured all her emotions into the kiss—all the love, gratitude, and vulnerability she had held inside. Cillian responded in kind, holding her even closer as the moment deepened.

When the kiss finally ended, they stayed like that, forehead to forehead, breathing heavily, as if they’d both come up for air after diving deep into something profound.

"Okay, this was amazing—I love you, and the place is beautiful," Jiyan said with a teasing tone, "but it’s freezing, way too cold for tiny Mediterranean me. Can we go back?"

Cillian laughed softly, kissing her forehead “Yeah we can go back, come on”.

As they began to walk back along the cliffs, the salty breeze tousled their hair and the distant sound of waves crashing against the rocks filled the air. Jiyan leaned into Cillian’s side, feeling warmth radiate from him despite the chill of the weather. They exchanged smiles, sealing their pact in that beautiful moment, the ocean and the cliffs standing as their witnesses.

Previous | Masterlist

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this chapter. Your feedback, in any form helps me to continue write this story; and comments makes me happy. See you at the next one :)

[tea-stained-notes]

Colin x Penelope - Divide | Chapter 2

Colin has made it: He’s a famous pop star, touring the world, adored to extremes. If only he wasn’t drowning his loneliness and anxiety in too many drinks, missing home and yet incapable of going back. But when Violet falls ill and he reluctantly returns he has to face the mess he has made - not only with his family but also the woman who might have always been the one.

Warnings: illness (cancer), death, anxiety, drug use, alcohol abuse, eventual smut

Chapter word count: ~ 2600

MASTERLIST

I'm on my way Drivin' at ninety down those country lanes Singin' to “Tiny Dancer” And I miss the way you make me feel and it's real We watched the sunset over the castle on the hill - Castle On the Hill

The concert is a blur. Mei says they should cancel, that they could sort this out. But Colin doesn’t listen, can barely hear her over the incessant rushing in his ears. “I’m fine,” is all he keeps mumbling. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” Tom and Liyana get him ready, then some tech people mic him up. And suddenly he’s on stage, hearing himself shout “Good evening, Boston!” as the crowd goes wild. He’s done this set fifty times, he can sleepwalk through it. And he does. He doesn’t wonder what the audience can see in his face, blown up to god-like dimensions on the screens. He doesn’t notice whether his voice breaks or his hands quiver. Maybe they don’t. Maybe he has practised pushing down his emotions well enough. Then he’s back at the hotel. Mei guides him into the bathroom with a set of comfortable clothes in hand and leaves to pack his bags. He wipes off paint and glitter in a daze, showers and dresses himself as if he was doing it for someone else. “I’m gonna postpone all shows for the next couple of weeks,” Mei says when he returns to the room. “And I’ve booked you on the first flight out. I’ll come get you at five.” “Thanks,” he whispers. He drags himself to the bed and slides under the covers, pulling the duvet up to his nose. When he closes his eyes, she is there. Her amused smile as she watches her children squabble, her soft hands as they place a plaster on his skinned knee, her comforting smell as she leans down to kiss him goodnight. How could there ever be a world without her? “Try to get some sleep, Col.” Mei gently closes the door behind her. And finally, Colin starts crying.

Fifteen hours later his plane descends over London. He fumbles with his glasses, staring down at the message thread on his phone.

Hi Colin. El said you’re flying into Heathrow today. I’m in the area and going to Aubrey Hall anyway, so I’ll come pick you up. Will you send me your flight number, please? I’ll meet you at the gate.

Thank you, Pen. It’s BA238, I’m coming in from Boston. Should be out by 8 pm.

Great, see you soon.

He has been scrolling through their old messages from years ago. When they were constantly exchanging witty quips, late night philosophy and shared plans. When they were best friends. He’s not sure what he is to Penelope now. But she is his only tether to this old world he has left behind, no matter how thinly-worn and frayed. They rarely talk now. Not since that day when he packed up and never looked back. His stomach has been churning with anxiety for hours, the nausea keeping him from asking for the hard liquor they would have gladly served him in his first class seat. Instead he has nibbled on a plain breakfast roll because his hands wouldn’t stop shaking and he tried attributing it to low blood sugar. They’re still trembling. He can’t stop wondering what his family will say. Whether they have anything to say to him. Whether his mother actually wants to see him again before she… He still can’t bear to finish the thought that has been boring into his mind ever since Mei came to deliver the message last night. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we have arrived at London Heathrow to a mild 20 degrees. The local time is 7:03 pm. Please remain seated until the seat belt signs are switched off. To everyone visiting: Welcome to England. And to all returnees: Welcome home.” It’s only when a droplet of water trails across his phone screen that he realises he’s crying again.

Colin keeps his head down as he walks out of baggage claim, trying to ignore the hushed “Oh my God, isn’t that… you know, that actor or something?” from the woman whispering to her friend behind him. Please no, not today. He always tries to be kind to his fans but this is the last thing he needs right now. His gaze flickers around, trying to find— Penelope. His heart plummets at the sight of her. Striking blue eyes, a guarded half-smile on her lips. Achingly familiar, yet somehow a stranger. “Hey,” he breathes as he reaches her. “I was half-expecting you to come on a private jet.” He stills for a moment. Then feels a small grin forming. “The climate’s fucked enough, I try to do my part.” “How noble of you.” Their wobbly smirks fade as they stare at each other, something intangible and uncertain between them. “It’s good to see you, Pen.” “Yeah. I wish it wasn’t because of…” He nods, his teeth buried in his bottom lip. Then he gestures at her head. “Your hair, it’s…” “Blond.” “Why?” She shrugs. “I got sick of standing out, I guess.” Colin hums thoughtfully. “Not something you’re familiar with, I know.” As if on cue, he hears the tell-tale shutter sound of a phone camera. Fuck. “Are you parked close by?”

Penelope opens the boot of a light-blue electric Mini. “Just pop your bag in there.” He does, then takes a deep breath before he turns to her. “Would you mind if I drove? I haven’t driven myself in ages.” “Well, under the circumstances it’s probably not the best idea then…” “Please? After seven hours on a plane I’d kill to stretch my legs — even if it’s just to step on the gas.” “Don’t you sound American.” “Occupational accident.” Again, their smiles briefly mirror each other. He marvels at the way they’re slipping back into their old rhythm. Despite the distance in her eyes. And he loves the new confidence in her voice, the way she holds herself a little straighter than he remembers. She’s grown in ways he hadn’t expected. Penelope hands him the keys. “Be gentle with her.”

“So, you’re still a regular at Aubrey Hall?” he asks as they merge onto the motorway. “Not really. But I’ve been working on a manuscript and Anthony and Kate were kind enough to offer me the guest room whenever I want some peace and quiet away from the Big Smoke. And it’s been nice with everyone there ever since… Well. It’s been good to see her more, too.” He swallows. “She’s always liked you.” Penelope looks down at the tangled hands in her lap. There is still a palpable divide between them and Colin thinks that if it’s like this with her, it will be hell with them. “Will you tell me?” she suddenly says. “What happened before you left?” He clenches his jaw. “I just had to get away.” “There’s a big difference between ‘getting away’ and cutting all ties with your family for years.” “What did they say?” “Nothing.” He glances at her, shock flitting across his face. “Nothing?” “Not even from El. It’s been strange since you left. Like… like your ghost still roams the halls. Everyone’s a little quieter. Almost holding their breath, as if you might walk in at any second.” The car slows with every word from her lips. Colin stares fixedly out the windscreen, his breathing rapid and shallow. “I’m sorry.” Penelope grows crimson. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” “Can we do this some other time?” he says curtly. She watches his Adam’s apple bob as his fingers clutch the steering wheel. “Sure.” He hurriedly turns up the radio. A calm folk song drifts from the speakers and after a moment he visibly relaxes again. Penelope tears her gaze from him to look out at the rolling hills, drenched in lush greens from the latest summer rains.

“So… a manuscript. Are you no longer pursuing journalism? I really like your pieces. The one about the London housing market from a couple months ago was brilliant. Anthony was probably frothing at the mouth at the section on inheritocracy.” “You actually read them?” He glimpses at her stunned expression. “What do you think I do all day? Party and snort coke?” “How would I know? We exchange a few texts like five times a year.” “And I have texted you that I like your articles.” “I thought you were just being nice. Not that you actually took the time to read them.” He swallows. “Good to know what you think of me.” They fall silent for a few seconds. Then Penelope briefly touches his hand on the centre console and a spark shoots through him. “I’m sorry. I’m really glad you read my work.” Colin looks over at her, taking in her features. He still can’t fathom that she’s real. Older, different. But still Penelope. Still the woman he once knew. “It’s okay. I haven’t exactly been a good friend,” he mumbles, his eyes back on the road. “So, tell me about that manuscript.” “Well, it’s actually a bit of a spin-off of my journalistic work. Non-fiction, probably a collection of essays but with a common thread running through it. How at their core all issues in contemporary society stem from hyper-individualism, a lack of community and care for our fellow humans.” “Failing to recognise what we owe each other.” “Exactly.” “I love it.” “Yeah?” He glances at her again, his heart leaping at the glowing smile on her face. “I’d love to read some of it. If you want me to.” “It’s a bit of jumbled mess at this point. But maybe some time.” Colin nods, trying and possibly failing to look casual. “I’m surprised Anthony offered you a writing residency for a book like that.” “I wasn’t. Kate and El have really turned him around over the years. Ben and Soph, too.” “But he’s still in the family business of selling real estate to rich arseholes. And Ben’s still CCO or whatever.” “They’re trying to reorient the company. Invest in low-income housing, communal spaces. Anthony’s actually become a valuable resource for my writing.” He’s stunned into silence.

“Oh my God, I haven’t heard that one in ages.” Penelope suddenly turns up the radio, humming along to Tiny Dancer. A small grin creeps onto Colin’s lips. “Shit, remember that Elton John phase we had as teenagers?” he says. “Well, he’s a fucking icon and the other fourteen-year-olds were philistines.” She starts playing piano in the air before singing along. “But, oh, how it feels so real, lying here with no one near. Only you, and you can hear me when I say softly, slowly…” Colin grins even wider as she turns to him expectantly. “Your cue, Bridgerton.” “Hold me closer, tiny dancer,” he sings softly. “Count the headlights on the highway. Lay me down in sheets of linen. You had a busy day today.” “Oh, come on. That’s not the kind of performance they’re drowning you in money for.” “Drowning in money, huh?” “As much as you like to bitch about your brother, you’re not exactly Oliver Twist yourself.” “You do know it’s mostly the labels that get rich on artists.” “Sure, tell me all about how destitute one of the biggest pop stars of our generation is.” He looks over at her, once again marvelling at how feisty she’s become. Twenty-year-old Penelope was witty and clever, but the past five years have noticeably sharpened her. “Okay, Featherington, show me how it’s done.” She smirks at him, then breaks into a passionate rendition of the second verse, pantomiming every line until Colin can’t help but chuckle. This time he takes the pre-chorus, his voice growing bolder along with his foot on the accelerator. The speed raises his adrenaline as they both belt out the final chorus. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt anything like this. While the closing bars drift from the speakers, he slows the car and turns to her, still beaming. “I’ve really missed you.” Her features slip at his confession and panic rushes back into his system. But before he can try to backpedal she gives him a soft smile. “Me too, Col.” The blazing heat along his spine mellows into a pleasant warmth that seeps into his cheeks and chest. He is infinitely thankful that she’s by his side as they’re making their way towards Kent. Towards a welcome most likely very different from this.

They don’t talk much for the rest of the drive, just occasional comments on a song or a piece of news on the radio. Mostly, he just revels in her company and the familiar surroundings coated in warm hues from the setting sun. Despite everything, there is a strange sense of comfort in the landscape so ingrained in his heart that he has unwittingly compared every other scenery of his travels against it. Just a few minutes out from Aubrey Hall something catches his eye. “Isn’t that the castle ruin we all used to play in?” Penelope hums in agreement. “We clambered about there for hours.” “Yeah, you made up all these elaborate tales. We were thieves and pirates and disgraced royalty. It was the best.” He glances at her. “I always thought you would be a novelist one day. Or a playwright.” She swallows, avoiding his gaze. “I guess at some point I had enough of making up fantasies.”

It’s after ten when they pull up at the mansion that has been the setting of countless Bridgerton stories. Tragedies both great and small. Colin looks up at his mother’s dimly lit bedroom with a lump in his throat. This will be one of the greatest of them all. He turns to Penelope one last time. “Thank you for picking me up.” She nods, a hint of a smile on her lips. “I hope the driving helped.” “You helped.” He cannot tell if she’s blushing or just being illuminated by the sun’s dying light.

Once his feet hit the gravel, Colin briefly checks his phone. Mei has sent the link to an article in the Daily Mirror. ‘The Prodigal Third Son Returns: Expat Pop Star Spotted at Heathrow Amidst Confusion About His Cancelled Tour Dates’ Just FIY, she writes. I’ll try to rein in the rumors but keep a low profile x Penelope’s face isn’t visible in the photos. He prays that no other ones will surface. She lifts their luggage out of the boot, then walks ahead of him towards the entrance. Colin picks up his bags and follows her, surprised at the casualness with which she lets herself into his family home. He remembers a time when she tried to take up as little space as possible, almost melting into walls, as if they would send her away once they noticed that she wasn’t actually a Bridgerton. Maybe she knows now. That she’s always belonged. She turns to him in the foyer. “I’ll go upstairs. They’re probably waiting for you in the sitting room.” He wipes his palms on his jeans, inhaling deeply. “Thanks again. I’ll see you in the morning?” “Sure. Night, Colin.” As she quietly makes her way up the staircase, tense words drift from the room he’s about to enter. He can’t decipher them, but the familiar voices alone make his stomach flip. Time to face whatever awaits him behind that door.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

CHAPTER 3

Tag List:

@paolapop1997 @crazylady182 @babymontserrat @hedraoctober2180 @thefirstnoel84 @kitcat599 @lukolaforever @thekindwolf99 @keddiej-blog @importantnachoshark @jiara444 @chenford777 @lady-of-the-creed @camarlez @hippiefairy02

If you'd like to be removed from the list, just let me know 😊

[ladykailitha]

WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames or specific AUs your WIPs; not titles, filenames (eg werewolf AU, unnamed mafia omegaverse, or Steve's Rizz vs Eddie's Zero Filter.)

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write at least 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

My only problem is that I tend to file name what the title is so I can find it easier, so...here’s what they were called before I titled them.

“File” Names

Sugar!Baby

Season 2 AU Final Story

Nanny

Famous Soulmate AU (here)

You'll notice no Himbo witch this week that's because it's a little spoiler-y at the moment so I threw in the soulmate AU to round it out. Soulmate and photographer Steve are the next on the pipeline but don't expect to see them soon as the other stories need to finish first.

Snippet

Joan tugged her father’s left pant leg. “Is she sick?” she stage whispered.

Eddie scooped her up and held her close. “No baby doll, she didn’t have anyone take care of her so she had to take of herself. Could you take care of yourself all alone without Daddy, Stevie, Aunt Chrissy or Grandpa Wayne?”

“No Janie either?” Joan asked, her lip starting to quiver and her eyes filled with tears.

“No Janie either,” Eddie confirmed.

Joan shook her head. “I’d need at least Janie because she’s so smart.”

Jane smiled a small ghost of a smile at that.

“Jane these are my daughters, Joan and Janice,” Eddie said scooping up Janice too. “Girls this is Jane. She’ll be staying with us until we can find some place safe for her.”

Jane narrowed her eyes at them suspiciously, but merely clasped her hands between her thighs. Eddie knew that look. She didn’t believe him anymore than he had believed Uncle Wayne when he had said it when he was ten years, cold, scared and badly beaten from the last foster family he had been placed in.

Wayne had said those same words to him and fuck, learning that eventually meant staying with him forever was hard to accept. But he did and now he’s successful and happy.

~

It's that great and wonderful time of the week again! WIP Wednesday!

The game runs from 8am-11pm EST.

Send in as many asks as you want as often as you want.

Tag List:

@zerokrox-blog @forgottenkanji @w1ll0wtr33 @thesecondfate @dreamercec

@beelze-the-bubkiss @bookworm0690 @kultiras @niniel-karenine

[agentwhiskeysdarlin]

Cycles

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x F!Reader

Rating: NSFW 18+ (minors dni)

Warnings: Mentions of injury (slightly graphic), angst, smutty good times, oral (female receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2.6k

Author’s Notes: Guess who remembered how to write?! That’s right, ME!! I got a random spark for this one day at work and it had it written within an hour. I have missed writing so much and I really hope there is more to come! Thank you to (charlotte) as always and all of you for your support especially those who haven’t given up on me. Thank you, also to everyone who has included me in a list of Pedro character writers. I truly feel honored to have myself next to some incredibly talented folks. I hope you all enjoy! Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list which I’m just pulling from the last smutty Jack fic.

Ao3 link 

  It was always the same with the two of you. He would roll into town, knock on your door, jump your bones, make you fall further in love and then he was gone. It always left you slightly heart broken but you knew he would always come back. He would come around, sooner or later, and it would be the same cycle once again. You didn’t mind it, you even craved it, but things were changing and they were changing quickly.

  Jack Daniels came into your life like a storm. Calm at first and then he swept you up in his wake. You couldn’t lie, even to yourself, you were in love with the man and it was an unfortunate matter. You knew in the depths of your soul it’d never work but you still held on to hope. You promised yourself the last time you’d woken up alone, you would tell him how you felt, the next time he came around. That was six months ago.

  He’d never been gone this long and it worried you endlessly. You checked your phone every five seconds, and you wished you had someone else to call for answers. You knew his job was dangerous, it was already something the two of you had discussed, and now your mind was jumping to the worst case scenario over and over again. You started waking up in the middle of the night with nightmares, unable to go back to sleep, afraid of seeing the image of him dead before your eyes all over again.

  Night had fallen and you found yourself on your couch with some wine, the bottle sitting before you on the coffee table. You’d put on a movie to distract yourself, hoping to find a bit of relaxation, when a knock sounded at your door. You froze looking at the front door, wine glass paused in midair. You gulped, feeling a tremble erupt through your body. Your mind went in two widely different directions. It could finally be Jack or it could finally be someone coming after you, because of Jack. But they wouldn’t knock right? You glanced at the side table, where you knew a gun hid in the drawer and slowly got up. You walked slowly to the door jumping when another knock sounded. You reached for the handle and opened it slowly.

  “Hiya darlin’,” Jack’s voice was weak, and he looked like he was going to fall over any second.

  “Jack?! Come on,” you spoke softly helping him in the house.

  “I’m alright. I’ve been patched up. I’m just a little weak is all. You should see the other guy,” he gave you his famous smirk, like he always did.

  Your eyes flitted over him, searching for his injuries, but besides the few small bandages and bruises on his face you couldn’t see any of them.

  “Jack you had me worried sick.”

  “I figured I did. I got Ginger to patch me up as quick as she could so I could get to you.”

  You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, and your eyes softened.

  “You could have called…” your voice was almost a whisper.

  “I would’ve if I could’ve darlin’ I swear it. I was undercover and I couldn’t contact anyone other than my team.”

  You let out a breathe you hadn’t realized you had been holding. Still standing in the entryway, you looked up at Jack, who was watching you so closely. He reached down, tipping your chin up, and kissed you gently. You melted into him, letting out a sigh of contentment. You pulled away after a few moments.

  “None of that tonight cowboy. You’re going to rest. You clearly need it.”

  “Now darlin’ come on I’m fine.”

  “Nope. You’re going to let me take care of you.”

  His fingers tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and let out a sigh. “You ain’t going to give in, are you?”

  “Nope now go.”

  You stepped back and he made his way to your master bedroom with you following behind him.

  “Did you get a chance to shower?” You asked, as you pulled clothes he’d left behind from one of your drawers.

  “No but I ain’t taking one. Unless you join me.”

  You gave him a pointed glare, but with the way those brown puppy dogs eyes looked at you, you couldn’t help but let him win this one.

  “Fine.”

  He smiled softly in victory and you couldn’t stop the chuckle, nor the shake of your head. You both stepped into the bathroom, and you helped him with his clothes trying to be as gentle as possible with him. The moment his clothes were gone and your eyes traced over him, you felt your stomach twist. You gulped, trying not to let the tears clouding your vision fall. He was hurt worse than he’d let on. You could tell by the brutal gash that had been stitched on his side. There were others hidden under bigger bandages.

  “Jack,” his name came out in a whisper, as your eyes looked him over.

  “Hey look at me,” his hand came to your cheek tilting your face to look at him. “I’m alright. I promise. I’ve had way worse than this. It looks worse than it is. Please don’t.”

  His voice softened to a gentle whisper, as he brushed tears from your cheeks. You held his stare for a moment more, before stepping back to remove your clothes, his eyes watching your every move. You stepped into the shower together, after you had let the water run for a moment. Jack let out a soft groan, the moment his body stood under the water.

  “Did you bring extra bandages?” Worry laced your voice at the sudden realization.

  “The good thing about us being high tech is, these bandages can get wet and it doesn’t do anything. They dry.”

  Jack’s job never stopped amazing you. You just simply nodded your head, before you got to work helping him wash. You worked your fingers through his brown hair, massaging at his scalp. His eyes stayed on you, watching every breathe you took. You took a wash cloth, placing soap in it and taking a breathe.

  “I can do it. I know you are worried about hurting me.”

  “No it’s okay. I want to,” you looked up at him with a small smile.

  You washed his skin gently, feeling his eyes still on you. It was getting harder for you not to just let him take you. Your hands trembled slightly, and suddenly Jack’s hands were taking yours.

  “Your turn,” his voice was low as he turned you.

  He washed your hair with equal gentleness. He was the same  washing your body, causing you to shiver as the washcloth ran between your legs. Soon the water was being turned off and the two of you were stepping out. You dried each other and he slipped on the white shirt and pj pants he had, and you slipped on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

  “This is pure torture I swear,” he grumbled as you made your way to the bed.

  “It is for me too, but you are too injured for that.”

  “The only way I’m too injured for that is if I’m six feet under darlin’.”

  “That’s not funny Jack.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

  When you turned to him with a slight glare, he was smirking like a cat.

 “How long are you going to be able to stay?”

  “If you’ll have me, awhile. I have to take leave since I got hurt.”

  “Of course I’ll have you Jack. Good, I can take care of you then.”

  “You going to let me take care of you?”

  “When you aren’t moving like a robot, yes.”

  His face fell but a quirk pulled at his lips. You smiled in triumph and let out a laugh. The two of you settled in and he pulled you to him, being careful. You reached up and kissed him.

  “Sleep.” You spoke the word softly, thinking how you finally would yourself, tonight. “I’m glad you’re here and you’re okay cowboy.”

  “I always told you I would come back darlin’.”

  He kissed the top of your head and pulled you slightly closer, before you fell asleep to the sound of his breathing and his heartbeat in your ear.

  Several days passed and the cycle Jack and yourself were usually stuck in, had finally been broken. You were getting a taste of what life would be like everyday with him. It was domestic bliss, and you couldn’t think of a time in your life where you had been happier. The urge to tell him the inner workings of your heart and mind were getting stronger as the days passed.

Jack was getting stronger by the day. He did things around the house for you that you couldn’t quite accomplish yourself, and it helped build his strength. You stayed on him to be careful as the days went, and soon a week passed. It had been the longest he had ever stayed and every single day you were afraid to wake up and find him gone.

  The two of you had just finished a dinner you had fixed together, and now you stood at your kitchen sink washing and drying the few dishes together. You swear the small smile on your face would be permanent until Jack took it with him. The only sound was the abandoned tv, low in volume and the two of you. When you finally finished Jack pulled you to him, spinning you to face him in the process. You let out a giggle a wide smile breaking over your face.

  “Alright I’m well enough. No more robot movements. I’m taking you to bed darlin’. I’ve got a lot of time to make up for,” Jack spoke firmly but a smirk still stayed on his face.

  “Alright fine, fine cowboy. Take me to bed Jack.”

  You voice rough at the last five words, and you looked up at him with hooded eyes. His head tilted and his lips crashed against yours. You melted into him, snaking your arms around his neck and threading your fingers into his hair, pulling slightly. He let out a moan against your lips and pulled you closer to him. His hands reached down and tapped gently at your ass and you jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist. He let out another groan and you pulled away panting.

  “I’m fine,” he breathed out and his lips were back on yours in seconds.

  He carried you, never coming up for air, until he had you on your mattress and was hovering over you. His hands started to wander quickly, and the next thing you knew your clothes were gone and so were his. You knew this time would be rushed after so long, but you also knew he wouldn’t leave until he was able to also take his time with you. You were a tangle of hands and lips, moans falling from your lips as Jack started to travel down your body. He paused at each breast, giving them attention before continuing on. He finally settled between your legs, and didn’t waste any time before he buried his head there. Your head flew back and your hand went to his hair.

  “Oh fuck! Jack! Yes!” You screamed out letting him take everything from you.

  He let out a moan against you, which made your hips buck and your back arch and then you were pulling at him.

  “Stop please,” you breathed out. “I need to cum around you.”

  You panted the words as Jack’s lips made their messy trail back up to your lips, kissing you deeply again.

  “I swear you’re going to be the death of me darlin’,” he smirked before he entered you.

  Both of you let out moans and your body shuddered at the feeling you had missed so much. Jack fit you like a puzzle. He moved in and out of you quickly, but gently, and you wrapped yourself around him. There wasn’t a part of you that wasn’t touching him. Your emotions were slowly heightening and you had to push your feelings away quickly, to keep from crying right then and there.

  “Jack I’m…” it was all the warning you could muster before you fell apart under him.

  He was right behind you, burying his head in your neck and kissing under your ear. He let your name fall in a whisper, that made you shudder again. You didn’t want this moment to end and apparently he didn’t either, because the two of you stayed like that for several moments. Finally he pulled his head away and locked eyes with yours. He searched your face for a long moment, before kissing you once again and then pulling out of you. You both let out a hiss and he slowly got up. You watched as he went into the bathroom, coming out with a wash cloth that he used between your legs to clean you up, before settling back in bed with you. He pulled you to him and you turned on your stomach and looking up at him. Your fingers rested against his chest, caressing him gently. He watched you intensely, and almost made you chicken out of what you were about to say.

  “I need to get this off my chest or I’m going to end up chickening out and regretting never saying it. I understand if it’s not how you want things to be, and just because I say this doesn’t mean we have to fall out of this cycle we have with each other…”

  “One we have broken,” Jack’s voice was soft and his fingers brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, before settling on your arm and rubbing gently.

  “Yeah I guess we have huh?” You let out a light chuckle and then took a breath. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you Jack.”

  It was a lot less words than what you had thought and practiced in your head, but it was simply the truth and the bottom line. You didn’t look at him and the silence seemed to stretch too long. Your stomach began to do gymnastics, until Jack’s fingers fell to your chin tilting your head, your eyes meeting his.

  “I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. The only reason I let this cycle of ours go on, was because I was scared. I work a dangerous job, live a dangerous life. I’ve already lost someone to it and I didn’t want to lose you. That’s the last thing I ever want to do.”

  “Jack I don’t care about any of that. I would know what I was signing up for it we…”

Your voice feel away as you felt anxiety build inside of you. Jack studied you for a moment then he let out a breath.

  “Dammit. I’ve never wanted anything more than I’ve wanted you…us,” he spoke as his hand slid into your hair behind your ear.

  “Me either Jack,” your voice was a whisper and it was full of emotion.

  “Then let’s permanently break the cycle then, yeah?” Jack’s face broke out into a smile.

  “I would love nothing more Jack.”

  You didn’t stop the tears, you didn’t stop the smile and you didn’t stop Jack as he pulled you to him, kissing you deeply again. You had tasted  life with Jack and now you would be living it with him, by his side. You had no idea what was going to happen with the two of you and it made it all that more exciting.

Tagged: @jimmythegirl​ @arcadianempress​ @discogrrl​ @immundusspiritu​ @someplace-darker​ @thisis-theway​ @ohpedromypedro​ @scribbledghost​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @princess-and-pedro​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @littlevodka​ @all-hallows-evie​ @mack4676​ @perropascal​ @audreyshepbvrn​ @mswarriorbabe80​ @kaqua​ @novemberrain221​ @weasleywinchester​

[avnche]

WHAT ONCE WAS

Changin x Afab reader {angst, fluff}

PART FIVE

"You haven't been yourself lately...you need to talk to her." Chan tells Changbin who was barely paying attention to the recording Chan was playing him.

"Huh?" Changbin says snapping him from his thoughts. "Did you talk to Y/n recently?" Chan asked.

"I kept calling but it said it was no longer in service. I even went to her place and her neighbor told me she quit her job and move back with her mother." Changbin said. Chan sighed. "It was wrong of you to tell her she was a mistake."

"I KNOW! I was angry and now I lost her!" Changbin yells. "You shouldn't be angry at her." Chan says. "I wasn't...I was mad at the media and the antis calling her all those mean things I wouldn't dare repeat. I wanted to keep her safe." Changbin began to say.

"I was so angry I wasn't thinking about what I was saying.... it's over now, so I would like to move on from this." Changbin said before getting a notification on his phone that took his attention from the conversation.

Chan couldn't help but be nosy so he shortly looked over Changbin's shoulder at his phone. It was a text from one of his best friends Chaeryeong.

"Hey do you wanna hang out?"

Is all Chan could read. He noticed after this whole incident and after Changbin had to make a formal apology, JYP publicly announced that the dating ban had been lifted and all his artists were allowed to date whoever they pleased. Changbin has been hanging out with Chaeryeong a lot lately.

Has Changbin given up so easily on Y/n?

-

After the news of the dating ban getting lifted you couldn't help feel as if he'll reach out to you but you knew he didn't have your new number or knew where you lived now. You would have to contact him but feeling like his mistake you never did. You regret that you never did because shortly after the company confirmed that Changbin was now dating idol Chaeryeong. Guess it was easier to date someone as pretty and loved as Chaeryeong.

But deep down you felt like this just can't end like this, you needed closure. You need Changbin to face you and tell you the truth whether it be good or bad. You needed to know why he felt the way he did over the phone and why he just moved on from you so quickly especially after you two were best friends back in school.

You didn't want to lose him again like the day he left to become an idol because you didn't realize how much you needed him until he came back, until he made you feel like someone.

So it was no surprise you sat decently close to the stage of their tour. They weren't on stage yet but the stadium was booming with their music and the fans were pouring in. You had no clue of any plan. You just wanted to know if Changbin would see you and would he still see you with those same eyes that he saw you the day he was in the bakery.

As more and more people came in and filled up the seats around you, you became nervous as you weren't much for crowds which is why you never went to one of their concerts, you supported them from the comfort of your room. Soon someone with a mask sat next to you and at the moment you thought nothing about it.

You wore a mask so no one could recognize you but the person next to you wore the same. Could this be someone famous? You thought.

You tried to be calm and focused on the show and just as you did the concert started. Huge drapes with their name finally came down and the thunderous song began to play and it revealed the 8 members standing up on the stage. It felt so surreal to see them like this. Especially Changbin you thought as your face began to heat up.

Y/N POV

The crowd immediately hyped up and I noticed the girl next to me with a dwaekki light stick. I got more interest in her as to who she is. I kept glancing at her without being too suspicious and that's when I noticed a familiar piece of clothing on her. It looked exactly like Changbin's favorite hoodie. I knew this couldn't be a coincidence. The girl next to me had to be Chaeryeong.

My heart was sinking. What are the odds I thought. A part of me just wanted to get up and leave but I spent a lot of money and I wanted to see Changbin.

The show was continuing on and I just couldn't seem to take my eyes off of Changbin. Thinking that I can't understand why someone as nice as him did that to me. I needed answers.

As Chan was talking to Stay in-between performance that's when I noticed him looking in my direction seemingly looking for someone. That's when Chaeryeong waved her light stick. He was looking for her. He waved but immediately stopped as if he was a deer caught in headlights. Does he notice me?

My heart felt like it wanted to jump out of my chest. Why does it have to be him, why does it have to be him I'm in love with? I kept thinking until it brought me to tears. Why can't he love me?

Y/N POV END

As the performance went on Changbin consistently looked in your direction to the point he made small mistakes during dances and rapping. Chan being the amazing leader he is seemed to quickly notice something was wrong. He watched Changbin being distracted by the same side of the crowd so he looked in the same direction and noticed the two girls in masks sitting next to each other. Chan knows Chaeryeong was coming but was curious who was sitting next to her and why Changbin was so distracted by her. Changbin has never looked that long at Chaeryeong who was in the crowd at other performances.

Chan finally figured out that it had to be you.

As there was a moment in there dance that Chan was closest to Changbin; he whispered, "Don't stare at Y/n to long.", with a smirk on his face. Changbin was a little shocked that Chan noticed too.

Changbin couldn't help but feel horrible for what his done as he can tell from just your eyes that you had been crying and how hurt your eyes seemed to be when you looked at him. You were the love of his life but after what happened and what he said he couldn't bring himself to face you. After what the media said as well he thought it was best to stay away from you as he didn't want you to get hurt.

After the dating ban got lifted he did try to contact you but when he found out you moved, changed your number and quit your job he knew you probably hated him so he moved on. Chaeryeong asked him out shortly after and he was too nice to say no and fans already shipped the two of them together. It was almost perfect except for the fact Changbin wasn't really happy. He was content and but not happy.

He felt like there was nothing he could do now about the situation as he didn't want to hurt Chaeryeong and what's done is done. Maybe one day you and him will move past this he thought.

'Please don't cry over someone like me.' Changbin thought to himself.

Just before the show was over Chaeryeong got up. Surely going backstage to see Changbin. You wanted to grab her and tell her to give Changbin a message but you knew you'll look like a complete weirdo and make things worse.

You saw him and you know he saw you. That was now enough for you. You know now you should move on without the closure you desired.

You were so sure of yourself that he was happier without you so you decided to let it go. To let him go.

[yourkimjaejin]

Burn Marks

They had told her to be careful. 

After a successful three days in Seoul, two days in Japan then the show two days ago in Madrid, AG had finally made it back to Paris. It had been years since the girls were in the city of love for Breakthrough’s music video shoot. This time, thankfully, no creepy guys or horrible managers were in sight. 

The members got to enjoy a day on the town before a stage rehearsal later that night. Immediately, Moxy and Aurora dragged their other members through the streets until they reached Miss Eve’s bakery. The older woman was beyond happy to see the girls again, this time all grown up. Juno and Hannah understood why the youngest member couldn’t stop talking about the pastries. They all tasted heavenly. While eating, they filled Miss Eve in on what had been going on since she saw them last. They even brought more posters and memorabilla to line the bakeries walls.

“I know you all getting big. Every year, more and more fans stop to admire my posters. I tell them ‘I meet AG before becoming famous.” Miss Eve's bragging had the girls falling out of their seats. 

Before they left, the girls invited Miss Eve to come to the concert, her eyes light up in excitement, “I bring niece! She big fan.” Miss Eve wouldn’t let them leave without bringing more food for their staff at the venue. The girls waved at Miss Eve as the car pulled off. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

It’s been a long rehearsal. AG would be lucky to be in bed by 3am. Being at a smaller venue meant, readjusting every single performance so they stayed safe. Fortunately, the end was in sight. The director wanted to run through five more songs, but first was Cannonball. In the Seoul stadium, Cannonball had huge balls of fire going off all around the stage. Because of the size the girls were free to run wild. In smaller stadiums, everything was shifted and restricted for the girls' safety. The director would rather be safe than sorry especially with Hannah and Aurora since they were closest to the pyro. 

Everything was going smoothly until they spread out for the second verse of the song. Everyone was tired. The lethargy creeping into their bones had everyone acting silly in an attempt to make it through the song Aurora was jumping along with her group of dancers near the left of the stage. None of them paid attention to how close they had gotten the pyro until it was too late. The maknae flung her arm out just as her previously recorded voice screams “Let’s Go!” into the empty arena. 

Aurora smelt it first. She couldn’t place the exact smell nor could Aurora describe it. Can one really explain the smell of burning. 

Then the pain set in. 

Aurora's terrified scream halted everyone. Her three older members all flinched at the sound, taking a moment to realize that sound came from Aurora before they surrounded her. Encircling her between them. 

“What happened?”

“Aurora what hurts?”

“Do you need a doctor?” 

Somebody's finger grazed the burn spot on her arms causing another shrill scream to echo around the venue. “It hurts unnie, it hurts.” Aurora whimpered, clutching her arm close to her chest. Hannah catches the eye of their leader nodding her head toward backstage. Nodding, Moxy takes off to find the doctor. Without prompt, Juno turns her attention to the dancers.

“Did you see what happened?” Juno asked. One of them, a female dancer that has been with AG for years, nodded. 

“I guess we got too close to the pyro. Aurora-ssi flung her arm out just as the fire went off. Her arm was only in it for a second, Could that much damage happen that fast?” The dancer asked. 

“I’ll be able to tell you in a moment.” The voice of the on-site doctor answered as Moxy followed behind him. He walked onto the stage with his first aid kit toward the two girls and kneeled down in front of them. 

“Hi Aurora-ssi. It’s nice to meet you. I had hoped it wouldn’t be this soon but that's neither here nor there. I’m Doctor Choi and I’ll be traveling with you for the duration of your tour.” Doctor Choi placed his first aid kit in front of the quartet, opening it so they all could see inside. 

“Now Aurora, Moxy-ssi has informed me that you’ve burned yourself on the pyro. Could I see your arm? I won’t even touch it. I just need to see how serious the burn is to determine if you need to go to hospital..” Aurora looked to her unnies first. At Moxy’s nod, she held her forearm out in front of them for Doctor Choi to examine. Compared to her complexion, the burn mark stood out. The skin had turned red, some places puffed up and bumpy. 

“Good news, Aurora-ssi doesn’t need a hospital but we do need to move her backstage for me to treat her.” Doctor Choi closed his case and stood up. Worry grew between all four girls.

“Why backstage?” Hannah asked while helping Aurora stand without putting pressure on the younger arm. The doc was already walking to the back, the members forced to follow. 

“Because she has second degree burns. They need to be treated properly and I don’t have all the supplies in need in my bag..” At the doctor’s answer, four pairs of footsteps sped up. Doctor Choi led them to his makeshift treatment room and enlisted the girls' help in patching up Aurora's arm. 

Through each step he explained what he was doing and why. First, they rinsed the burn under cool water. “This’ll get the pain to stop.” Next, Doctor Choi had Hannah gently wash the area to disinfect it. Pangs of hurt ripple thru the older girls every time their maknae hissed in pain. 

Then, as carefully as he could, the doctor spread petroleum jelly across the entire burn. “This is to keep the area hydrated while it heals. I’ll also get some gauze with petroleum jelly already on it.” Lastly, Doctor Choi wrapped the burn snug enough not to move while Aurora dances but not tight enough to hurt. 

“Now, as long as you wash it every day and keep the wound hydrated with an ointment or more petroleum jelly, the burn should heal in three to four weeks. You’ll have to wear the gauze during performances though. If that’s all, I’d suggest Aurora-ssi sit out the rest of the rehearsal." Before she could argue, Moxy agreed. 

“Actually, we're all heading back to the hotel until closer to showtime.” 

Aurora shook her head, “Unnie we had four more songs to run through.” 

“Four song rehearsals don’t take priority over your health. Thank you for your help Doctor Choi.” Moxy bowed while Hannah pushed the group out the door, through the stadium  and to the parking lot where a car was already waiting for them. 

The ride back was quiet, all the girls were rocked physically and emotionally from what happened to Aurora but nobody felt that more than the maknae herself. Now that the painkillers were kicking in, the pain was ebbing away. But the sight of her bandaged forearm was an ugly reminder of what happened. Finally the familiar front of their hotel greeted their eyes. Slowly, all four women dragged their bodies through the ornate lobby to the elevators. The maknae knew after everything that had happened, there was no way her unnies would leave her alone. But she just wanted a second to process. Aurora tugged on her leader’s sleeve. She mouthed the words, Code: Alone Time. Migyeong pursed her lips but nodded, everyone in NCT respected the codes. When the elevator opened, Moxy herded Juno and Hannah to her room leaving Aurora to enter hers. There was a bit of push back but one look silenced them. Aurora closed the door and flopped onto her bed finally able to breathe. 

With nothing else to do, Aurora took a nap, taking care not to lay on her bandaged arm.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ 

Aurora didn’t know how long she was asleep until she felt fingers running through her hair, gently undoing the slight tangles. Aurora could tell it was Hannah. Her other members weren’t ones for gentle wake up calls. 

“Eunji-ah? You awake?” Hannah murmured. Her fingers were pulling away but the maknae pushed her head back into her unnie’s palm. A soft smile grew on Hannah’s face, fingers continuing their mission. It was rare for Aurora to let her maknae tendencies loose. 

“You gotta get up. It’s time to head to the venue.” The elder got a hum in response but neither moved to get up. Hannah wasn’t in a hurry to rush the younger singer. Aurora was strong but that didn’t mean she was immune to shock or pain. If she wasn’t ready then they’d postpone until Aurora was. 

“I wanna inform the fans…about what happened.” she sat up, stroking her arm softly, “I don’t want them to worry when they see this bandage tonight.” 

Hannah reached over ruffling Aurora hair, “I think we can make that happen. But first we gotta visit the doc and get that gauze changed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello this is SM Entertainment, We’re here to inform the fans of a minor injury update. At the rehearsal for NCT AG’s concert in Paris tonight, Aurora sustained a minor burn on her arm. She is okay and has been treated already. Aurora has also chosen to perform tonight and will keep her arm wrapped until the injury heals completely.  Aurora is okay and urges fans to ease their worries and enjoy the show. We wish Aurora a speedy recovery and good luck for the concert tonight. 

Comments:

Not Aurora!!! Glad they said she chose to perform Omo!! I hope she’s okay How the heck did she get burned during rehearsal Paris czennies!! Cheer extra loud for our maknae tonight.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

First part of the Tour!Angst is in the books!!!! I hope you all liked it. I've been writing these since last year so I hope they live up to the work I've put in. Next up is Moxy so until then have a great day!! ~ Author Izzy

Taglist: @alixnsuperstxr / @1-800-call-ria / @sophrodite / @sunflower-0180

[heyidkyay]

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

Part Three

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.

Masterlist

--

He’d changed. That was the first thought that came to mind.

I didn’t know what had changed exactly. His hair was still the same, so were those barrel-aged whiskey eyes. And just as he had ever since I’d known him, George still enjoyed wearing his favourite clothes to ribbons, as could be seen by the black trousers he was now sporting. They were very well-fitted to his thighs and cropped slightly at the ankle, had twin holes torn through both the knees as well as a fraying thread just beneath the front right pocket, where I knew a pack of cigarettes had long since claimed residence.

He had a hand stilted just below the crook of his elbow likely from where he’d just been about to reach out and swat Matty for his smart mouth but stopped. I felt my own dry up as my heart dropped to my feet upon seeing him again. Practically watched as it pooled into a miserable puddle on the floor.

I’d been expecting it- seeing him, because of course I had. I’d known about it since Matty had finally let the secret slip, but there was also a big part of me that… hadn’t? Strange sure, but I mean, who could really prepare themselves for a moment like this?

Seeing an ex was always weird, left you feeling a tad self-conscious, a bit blindsided, but you could almost always duck out of sight just before they saw you, or choose to give them that vexatious smile, the one where you tried to come off as polite when really all you wanted to do was run a mile in the other direction. 

This though, I don’t think many people experienced this. A whole evening spent with their most recent ex, on their birthday of all days. 

A low and sharp whistle tore its way through the room then, breaking the tense atmosphere that had since settled and at once making me fully aware of just where I was.

“Well this is awkward.”

And of course it would’ve had to have been Ross who’d only gone and chosen to add to the tension. The utter twat. 

I would’ve shot him a well deserving glare but I couldn’t quite look away from George just yet. I wanted to, well, I wanted a lot just then. I wanted to go back in time to where we’d been before. I wanted an explanation. I still, wanted him.

Needed was probably the better term. I needed him like water, I needed answers like an introvert needed their own head. But in that moment, I felt like I’d lost mine.

“Shut up, Ross.” Adam groaned loudly and just like that I blinked and that clouded hue I’d felt choking me lifted, revealing the rest of the room. 

Ross was chuckling away, propped up against the kitchen counter, whilst Adam merely rolled his eyes, shaking his head, everyone else just sort of stood there.

Thank the heavens for Carly though, she jumped in like the angel she was, saving us all from the uncomfortableness of it.

“Matty! Need any help with dinner, plating up and what not?”

For a moment, Matty’s gaze skitted back and forth between both myself and George, whose own eyes were now downcast. It appeared as though Matty’s kitchen tiles were immensely more interesting to him than anything else and I had to bite back the sudden fury I felt rise up through my throat, coating the back of my teeth with a sour taste. 

So it was going to be like that then.

“Um- yeah, uh you know what, you can.” Matty answered her, tea towel in hand as our eyes met across the room. He gave me an intense look, one that told a thousand words, but he jilted his head over towards where the larder was hidden before I could decipher any of them. “Y/n love, show Carls where I keep the plates and that, won’t you?”

I nodded at him slowly then took a deep breath and forced a smile, “Yeah, yeah ‘course. Come on Carls, they’re just this way.”

Quick as I could I spun around on my heel and headed straight towards the hallway, slipping into a small alcove where a flashy storage unit was tucked away. Keeping my back firmly facing the door, I pretended to browse through the few dining sets Matty had to offer, most of which had been gifted to him by his mum or aunt over the last few Christmases.

I heard Carly enter a minute after me, as well as the click of the door behind her. I took another much needed deep breath. 

“Do you reckon Matty will want to use his good plates?” I questioned aloud, “Or should we just ask if he has any paper ones, knowing Ross and I. Klutzes the pair of us, he’ll have a right mare if either of us drops that fancy china he claims he doesn’t actually like.” 

I could feel a familiar sting behind my eyes but I kept on prattling away, in hopes that the familiar burn would soon work itself out before I had to turn back and face her.

“Probably just best to go with the ones he brought over with him from the flat, I 'spose. Don’t think he’ll mind losing a few of them.” I chuckled with a strained smile, but my voice sounded pinched even to my own ears.

I stopped then and had to close my eyes, bracing myself against the nearby shelving unit. I tilted my head back to keep any tears from escaping but it was futile effort and as my shoulders fell so did the first tear. “Shit.” I silently cursed.

“Oh, Y/n/n.” Carly whispered just before a pair of gentle arms wound their way around my waist. I let my head hang then, there was never any need to pretend with her. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

I scoffed quietly under my breath, hands finding hers before I turned in her grasp. I opened my eyes to find her peering back at me with so much warmth, no pity to be found. 

“This is beyond mortifying.” I choked out with a bitter laugh as I swiped under my eyes. I’d always hated being seen so vulnerable. “Crying over someone who could care less about me.”

Carly’s smile was small but so sincere, she shook her head at me lightly. “I wouldn’t say that. That man out there was just as taken back by your presence as you were of his. I think deep down you both knew that this was bound to be difficult.”

I inhaled slowly and glanced up towards the ceiling, fisting my fingers in my hair. “I know, and that’s why I feel so stupid. I really don’t know if I can do this, Carly.” I told her in a tone that was no higher than a murmur, “I didn’t think it would be such a struggle. That I would still feel so-”

Frustrated, I threw my hands in the air and squeezed my eyes closed. I had to breathe.

Carly was still there when I opened them again, ever so patient.

“This is going to be so messy.” I quietly confessed into the tiny room.

Carly only hummed at me, carefully grazing her hands up and down the length of my arms as I slowly unwound. It helped soothe the semi-chaotic state I’d worked myself into.

"It will be, but to clean up there first needs to be a mess.”

Under furrowed eyebrows I looked up at her and couldn’t help my airy snort. “Is that something you stole from one of your many parenting books?”

“No, Instagram quote actually.” She corrected with an amused smirk. “But that’s beside the point. It’s still true.”

I dragged out a sarcastic sound of agreement and she flicked my shoulder in retort with a narrowed-eyed stare.

“Look, all I’m saying is, things will either work out the way you want or they won’t. But you can’t stress over something you can’t control, so let us just enjoy this. Enjoy your birthday! You deserve that at the very least, okay? So, forget him. Forget everything that happened there. And just be in the moment.”

I swallowed thickly and nodded just the once, too scared to trust my own voice. I could do that.

Or, at least that’s what I told myself.

—

Table set and Matty on the warpath, I snuck away for a chance to gather my thoughts but found myself pursuing the contents of the minibar instead.

It was impressive to say the least, both the extensive amount of alcohol Matty had to offer as well as the bar itself. If I remembered rightly, he’d had it built during the first few weeks of moving in, an added extra whilst the band had still been away on tour. It was much like the rest of his house though, minimalist and brutal, where all of his deep and depressing thoughts got turned into pretty melodies. 

There was hardly any decor, most of its bottles and glasses tucked away behind neat neutral lines. Only a fitted glass ashtray with its own self-cleaning function (even Matty had to roll his eyes at that, no?) was perched within the concrete counter. 

Matty’s house had always been beautiful to me, honestly I was a little jealous of how calm and clean it always seemed, but it never failed to make me wonder where he kept it all. You know, all the little bits and bobs most of us just seemed to never find a place for- like his hoover for example, where the fuck did he keep his hoover? Did he even own one? Or did he have little nano robots hidden away in the skirting boards? 

As I followed down a newfound path of random thoughts that popped into my head, I failed to notice that I was no longer the room’s only occupant and jumped right out my skin, almost flinging a very expensive bottle of chardonnay across the floor, when I turned and found George watching me from the archway.

Immediately he raised his hands up at me in surrender, making sure to state that he was of no threat, though I could see that there was a small little smirk toying at the corners of his lips as he proceeded further into the room. I let out a big breath and lowered the bottle.

“What the hell are you playing at? Sneaking around like some- ninja!” I scolded with a wave of my hand, internally cursing myself for having stumbled over my words trying to come up with something clever to say. Of all the things I could’ve said to him after six months of.. well, silence. I chose that. Big pat on the back for me, please!

God, I wanted to die as I hastily spun back around to tuck the wine into the case I’d found it in, but mostly just to hide my reddening cheeks.

“Ninja?” He replied with a hint of humour, and I realised how long it had been since I'd last heard his voice. “No, but I reckon if you gave me an hour or so I could pull off that Karate Kid stunt.”

I couldn’t hide the soft snort I made. Still as arrogant as ever then.

“What, been doing enough yoga to think you could master that flip?” I threw back at him from over my shoulder whilst my fingertips danced precariously along the edge of a crystal glass. He hummed, and I could physically feel him drawing nearer.

“Got the crane down.” He shrugged, as though that wasn’t impressive in itself, and I could just about see him again, from the corner of my eye. “Figure the rest could surely follow.”

Lightly, I felt my head shake on its own accord, but was quick to dampen the tiny beginnings of any sort of smile. I gave a sarcastic hum back.

This was typical for us, conversing without words. A hum here, a look there. That’s all it had taken in the years we’d been together, the two of us always on the same page. Until we weren't.

I could remember a few years back, maybe at one of the boys first BRIT’s, where some hotshot, who’d acted as though he’d been in the game longer than I’d been alive, had waltzed over and started talking. Bragging, truthfully.

He’d heard a little of the band’s stuff, liked it I supposed, and tried to gift them all this ‘knowledgable’ advice, stuff people in the business would 'hate for them to know'. His words, not mine. George and I had immediately clocked on, but Hann had always been the polite one and Matty, well he’d wanted to know all the ins and outs of everything. He liked knowing. Understanding. Always had.

Ross though? Actually, I wasn’t too sure where he’d snuck off to at the time, was probably trying to chat up some actress or find a decent place to smoke. 

Either way, I’d turned slightly in my seat once the man had made himself far too comfortable in his invasion of our table, and with one shared glance at George, we both started up this game. Our game. It was one we'd always loved to play where we’d have to act so sincere in all our questioning and interest in the topic at hand whilst simultaneously trying to trip up our target or make them look like a complete wanker. The winner was always the one who got them so uncomfortable to the point where they’d just leave.

“I, uh,” George’s low stumble grabbed my attention and I peered over to find him rubbing the tip of his nose with his knuckle, something he’d done ever since I’d known him. “I wasn’t sure I’d come tonight. If you’d be alright with me being here.”

“Right.” Was all I said in turn, gaze focused on the glass again. 

I heard him move behind me. “It’s just- it’s your day, you know? And I was surprised you even agreed to all this, actually.” His chuckle was faint.

“Well, it’s not every day Matty asks to wine and dine you, I suppose.” 

He laughed again and I tried not to acknowledge the tightening in my chest, he’d always had the best laugh.

“Yeah, there’s that.” George accepted, he paused for a long second, “Still, he and Ross figured it’d be strange if I didn’t turn up. Hope that's alright with you.”

And now was the time to act.

So I put on a smile and turned, making sure it reached my eyes even as my heart clenched at the very sight of him. He looked somewhat older, even though only six months had passed. It hurt to know that I’d missed it, all that time I could've had with him.

“‘Course, why wouldn’t it?” I assured him, putting down the two glasses I’d picked up on the counter. “You still a strictly bourbon man, or are you feeling something different? It appears as though Matty’s stocked this thing up to the brim with all sorts of shit, most of which I can’t even read so I won’t try to name.”

“Um,” George murmured, almost sounding taken aback by my change in pace, but I paid it no mind, I couldn’t focus on anything other than getting through this. 

I had questions, yeah, but I didn’t want to ruin the evening for everyone else. Not this early on, at least. I knew that certain path was only destined to end in flames. 

“Whatever you’re having then is fine.” George settled on and I dipped my head at him, grabbing a bottle of Absolut alongside a lemonade can. “Straight to the hard stuff I see.” He commented, obviously eyeing what I was doing.

“It’s my birthday, I’ll have no judgement, thank you.” I retorted, pouring a rather hefty amount of the spirit into both glasses. 

George huffed out a gentle chuckle as he joined me by the bar. “No judgement here, birdie.”

He was a little less than an arms length away now and it took everything in me not to outwardly react to the slip. It was my name. His name for me. Uttered as though nothing had changed.

“Sorry.” George whispered, his swallow as audible as mine in the still room.

I squeezed my eyes closed for a brief second then forced another smile, topping off the rest of the drinks with lemonade. “No, you’re fine.” I shrugged a shoulder, focused solely on the drinks. “I’ve missed it and you were the only one to ever call me it, so.”

“I just,” George tried but I interrupted before he could press anything further.

“Honestly, don't stress over it. It’s fine.” I smiled, wondering if a gesture so easy should hurt this much. I slid a glass down towards him. “Should probably be getting back though, everyone else will be wondering…”

I gave him one last look and then shuffled towards the door. I rounded the corner with baited breath and tried to ignore the quiet curse I heard follow me as I hurried down the hall.

—

I found myself standing in the garden a little while later nursing another drink, only this one had been gifted to me by Ross. Stronger than the one I’d previously made, the coke used only to add a hint of flavour to the otherwise malty taste.

I watched Matty through the window as he frantically went back and forth between the oven and the fridge, trying to get everything done by himself. I was meant to be helping him but my mind had been elsewhere, listening to the laughter and echoing voices which had begun to drift into the kitchen.

It felt so strange, all of us being together again but still feeling so separate, and the alcohol wasn’t doing much to hinder that feeling.

It’s just that since the breakup, I’d only really had Matty to lean on. Ross and Adam had been there too, don’t get me wrong, they were always a text or phone call away, but not like they’d been before. It kind of felt like George had gotten them in this messy divorce, whilst Matty had been the kid in the middle, stuck between choosing. 

We’d always been so close, before. The boys had been my family. Now though, things felt so stilted and I fucking hated it. Being here with them, with George again, it only put a speaker to those feelings.

“Alright?” Came a familiar voice just a hand came to rest on my shoulder. I sighed and leant into the weight of it, a small smile limning my lips as Matty’s head fell against my own, the two of us just staring out at the sky.

“Shouldn't you be inside? Or are you trying to earn back all the money you spent on this house by starting a fire?” I queried quietly and huffed out an airy chuckle when his hip checked mine in retaliation.

“Don’t jinx shit, you muppet. Dinner is just about done- and I’ll have you know, that none of it will be inedible."

I hummed, “Holding you to that, Healy. Can’t go ruining my special day.”

“Oh, so we are acknowledging that it’s your birthday then?” Matty quipped back.

I pinched his side and rolled my eyes when he just laughed. “No, we are not.”

I felt his head shake as it moved against mine. “Swear, you girls are so hard to keep up with these days.”

“Compared to what, the old days? Back when you were a baby emo.” I chuckled and allowed him to steal my drink from me. He grimaced slightly at the taste. “Thank you for this though, it’s nice knowing people care.”

Matty moved then and I shuffled round to glance at him. He wore a prominent frown and was staring down at me with a sort of bewildered expression.

“People care about you.”

I let my own features soften. “I know that, I guess. It’s just nice to be reminded of it, I 'spose. Things have been off with us all for a while though. Since…”

He sighed, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth as he muddled through his thoughts.

“Yeah, they have. Even I’ll admit that. But it’s not down to you. Shit just happens, and we all deal with it the only way we know how." He stated, his hand in mine, a steady presence. "Saying that though, even after everything that went on- that’s still going on- they’re here, aren’t they? Ross and Hann and Carls. G…”

I had to look away, scared that he’d see the harsh light from the kitchen start to reflect in my watering eyes.

“I know. I just wish things were different. That I had a fucking time machine. So I could take back whatever it is I did, Matty. I'd take it all back in a heartbeat just to know that he still loved me the same. So he wouldn’t end up pushing me away.”

I guess there was no reply that could be given to fix everything I felt in that moment, but the hug Matty wrapped me up in was something I hadn’t even realised I’d needed.

“He still does.” He whispered in my ear as he drew tiny circles over the knobs in my spine. “That I know for fucking certain.”

Part four>