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cait-with-luv · 1 year ago

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Little Leopard [6]

"If it weren't for seven men that fateful night you wouldn't be here now. They showed you good people did exist. That life can be great, that you can be loved and cared for. These seven men were the men you loved and cherished. These men were your mates. Your safety blanket. And to them. You were their Little Leopard."

Header Credit: Me

Pairing: OT7 X Hybrid!Reader

Genre: Hybrid! AU, Strangers to Lovers! AU, Rich!BTS, Fluff, Angst, eventual smut, Polyamorous!BTS

Warnings: Angst, discussions of weight, discussions of eating disorders, dissociation, mentions of past mental abuse, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of sexual abuse, discussions of trauma, anxiety, depression, explicit language, self-doubt, fear of rejection

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: I'm sorry if this is so scruffy I tried my best since I've just got back to full health so the next update will be better! ITALICS MEANS IT'S A FLASHBACK!

PREV | NEXT

The boys felt lost. It was like they were taking one step forward and one step back with you ever since your hospital appointment a few weeks ago. You had gone back to barely speaking. Only nodding and shaking your head. Murmuring your words. Barely coming out of your room. They were worried. Guilty. Guilty because they felt like they had pushed you too far. You were healing after so much trauma, pain and they reopened those healing wounds. They desperately wanted to help you. Get you back on track to recovery and finding happiness but they didn’t know how. They didn’t know where to start.

However this wasn’t the case. You had not shut yourself out because of the appointment. Because you were suffering from reliving trauma. No, it was because of them. You were not mad at them. You were not disappointed in them. You were purely nervous. Nervous because everytime you looked at them your heart raced. Everytime you tried to talk your words got caught in your throat. THEY made you nervous. Butterflies in your stomach. And it all started because of your realization. They were your mates. They were fated to you. They found you that night because they were meant to.

It terrified you. You had never felt this ever. It was all so new to you. This feeling of adoration, euphoria, love. It was all so overwhelming and terrifying that you didn’t know how to comprehend it. You weren’t ready to accept that you had mates. You were so desperately trying to shut it out but it was proving to be difficult when your leopard is pawing at you consistently to nest with them again, scent them. Mate them. Sheer pain crawling in your body when they come home smelling like another Hybrid. You couldn’t accept it because you were terrified to be rejected. You weren’t good enough for them, not perfect enough. You came with too much baggage. The humiliation you’d feel if they rejected you. The gut-wrenching pain you’d feel. You couldn’t take anymore pain.

You knew you couldn’t shut yourself away forever. That you had to conjure up the courage to talk to them, be around them but it was difficult when your every instinct is to nurture them, claim them.

Your deep thoughts are cut off from a knock on the your bedroom door, you mumble a ‘come in’ and a hesitant Taehyung peers in and pouts seeing you curled up in a nest you had recently built for yourself, the only thing providing you comfort right now but seeing Taehyung makes you ball your fists up to fight the urge to pull him into it. You couldn’t indulge anymore, because now you crave it all the time since the first time you nested with him and Jungkook.

“Hey, Pretty girl, Seokjinnie has made some lunch, want to come eat with us? You didn’t have any breakfast.” He says softly, frowning as you shake your head and snuggle more into your nest.

“I-I’m not hungry. Maybe later?” You mutter quietly, avoiding eye contact. You could see the concern in his face but you just had no appetite, you couldn’t stomach anything right now.

“But Y/N, you haven’t eaten properly in a while…” He trails off, hoping that you’d cave and finally eat but you were stubborn. You couldn’t and wouldn’t. You didn’t have the energy to face them.

“I’m just not hungry right now Taehyungie. I’ll eat later. I promise.” You reassure, before closing your eyes and pretending to go to sleep. You couldn’t look at him otherwise you’d cave.

“Okay, one of us will check on you in a bit, please try to eat later. Please talk to us, we’re here for you.” Taehyung sighs before leaving and making his way downstairs, watching the six hopeful boys' faces fall when they see no sign of you.

“Nothing?” Jungkook pouts as Taehyung shakes his head. They just wanted to see you healing again, smiling and interacting with them.

“Nothing. She won’t eat. She said she’s not hungry again, she wouldn’t look at me. What do we do?” Taehyung whines in frustration, sitting down next to Jimin who gives him a small smile.

“I’m getting worried, she’s starving herself, we can’t let her continue like this. She’s going to get sick, we need to do something, we can’t keep walking on eggshells around her, it’s not going to achieve anything.” Jimin huffs and shakes his head. They needed to make better efforts, because right now, he felt like they were all doing the bare minimum.

“We can’t force her to eat, we can’t force her to do anything. We’d just be doing what all the others were doing but we need to sit her down, remind her that she’s not alone, that she doesn’t need to bottle it all up.” Namjoon advises, they all hum in agreement except for Jungkook. He shakes his head, gaining their attention.

“I don’t think it’s the hospital appointment that’s doing this to her. I think…I think it’s the fact we’re her mates. I think she knows but is scared. Have you guys not noticed how anxious and nervous she gets around us recently? How much more she’s nesting and scenting blankets?” He begins, looking around watching as they all come to a realization.

“That does make sense but how do you know she knows?” Seokjin replies with a frown.

“Well…”

—

“Is she oka-Oh shit.”

Hoseok stares in shock at the sight in front of him. Two of his boyfriends, nesting with you, your small figure, snuggled up between them, the peaceful look of sleep and safety on your face. He knew what this meant. He was familiar with what nesting meant to a hybrid, having been told by his colleagues with mates. Things had just got more complicated.

“Shh don’t wake her. She’s dissociated, she’s distraught, we know what this means, we made the nest for her to help but she invited us in. We couldn’t say no.” Jungkook whispers, looking down to make sure you hadn’t been disturbed. In all honesty, he wasn’t opposed to being your mate. One of seven mates.

“We need to talk. Now.” Hoseok says quietly, shuffling in his spot. Everything was coming together now. Why they felt so much care for you. The need to protect you and spoil you. They all had assumed it was because of your circumstances but how wrong they were.

They may be human but they felt it too. The pull towards you. The attraction.

“Tae, you go, I’ll stay with her, don’t wanna leave her by herself in case she wakes up.” Jungkook sighs, stroking your hair, a small smile falling onto his lips as you subconsciously lean into his touch, a loud rumble of a happy purr leaving your mouth.

Taehyung hesitates before nodding and placing a chaste kiss to your temple and then a quick peck to Jungkook’s head before carefully leaving the nest, his chest filled with anxiety and guilt from doing so.

“Mate…n-no…back…” You whimper in your sleep, anxiously moving about, already feeling Taehyung’s disappearance, your fists clenching Jungkook’s shirt tighter and tighter, fearful to lose him too.

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here, I’ve got you…your mate is right here, Baby.” He comforts, keeping you tight in his hold, nosing at the crown of your head to relax you. He wouldn’t want anyone else to be a mate too. He will make sure to be the perfect one for you and he knew the others would too. You were the missing piece they were missing. You fit in just like a jigsaw piece.

“We’re her mates.” Taehyung blurts out suddenly once they had all sat down, their eyes widening in shock. Out of all the things they thought they were going to be told, this wasn’t at all what they were expecting.

“W-What? How do you know?” Jimin breathes out in surprise, his heart racing from nerves.

“She nested with me and Kookie. She’s still nesting with him now, she scented him too. She looked pretty upset too when she realized we all weren’t there. She wanted us all in the nest.” Taehyung explained, running a hand through his hair.

“Come to think of it, she looked like she was going to tear Dr. Yoon’s head off when she hugged us. It probably didn’t help that she's a lion hybrid too but it makes sense. It’s kinda like a territorial thing.” Yoongi murmurs leaning back into the couch, arms crossed as he thought deeply.

“Well what do we do? We can’t pretend that we don’t know about it. It’ll just be makingher suffer. I don’t know about you guys but I care a lot about her. I really do think I’d be lost without her.” Hoseok says confidently, the boys humming in acknowledgement.

“She does feel like what we’ve been missing this whole time and I know there’s plenty of room for her in this relationship.” Seokjin agrees with Hoseok a smile toying at his lips, he could picture all the loving memories you could create. Waking up together with them in the mornings, dates, cooking together, intimate moments, all the laughs, smiles, compliments. He wanted that with you. They all did. You were the missing brick in the home they had built. The cement that held it together. They just hadn’t realized it until now.

“I don’t think we should tell her we know…she’ll come to us when she’s ready to tell us no matter how painstakingly slow it may be we got to be patient. We don’t want to scare her off. Let her initiate it. Let her be in control of this. She’s never gotten that choice so we have to give that to her. Maybe little courting gifts here and there for her, not to hint that we know but hint to her that we care for her and if she wants to want to build a relationship with her.” Namjoon says with authority in his voice. He didn’t want to screw up any chance they had with you. It wasn’t like how they started dating. You’re a hybrid and courting is a big thing for mates. They couldn’t rush this. It had to be at a steady pace, it had to be perfect.

“But what if she doesn’t come to us about it Joonie? She’s never had this much control in her life, she won’t know how to do this. I don’t want to control her at all but what if we just give her a nudge into the right direction?” Jimin whines. He knew Namjoon was right but his patience was the worst out of them all, he knew he’d get too antsy.

“We may have to but right now we wait and see baby. Only time will tell.”

—

It had gone past midnight when you left your room, unfortunately your anxiety riddled mind had kept you awake, the thoughts of losing the boys, not being good enough for them plagued you. But also your fears of going back to your previous owner. Having to endure the mental and physical abuse day in and day out. The pure torment. You couldn’t go back to it. Especially not after seeing what life truly can be like. You just couldn’t do it.

You had to speak to them, go back to your healing, you couldn’t lose them, push them away.

You hesitantly tip-toe towards a room. Jungkook’s room. Despite being in a seven person relationship, sometimes they liked to have their own space or take turns sharing the master bedroom bed.

You stand in front of his room, contemplating whether or not if you should knock. You didn’t want to disturb him, you were about to turn around and go back to your room but if it was Jungkook had a 6th sense and knew you were there, his door suddenly opening, a yawning Jungkook stood there, a look of surprise when he realized it was you at the door not one of the boys like he thought it to have been.

“Y/N? Hey, Sweet girl, are you okay? Is something the matter?”He asks softly, almost cooing at your sweater paws and doe eyes staring at him nervously. You shuffle in your spot, toying with your hands as you murmur shyly,

“I-I can’t sleep…didn’t know what to do. D-Did I disturb you? I-I’m sorry I’ll go.”

Jungkook quickly shakes his head and holds his hand out for you to take, he didn’t want to startle you and grab your hand, he reminds himself of what Namjoon had said. ‘Let her be in control’.

You slowly place your hand in his and you almost purr from glee from the feeling, you hadn’t touched them or let them touch you since you nested with them.

“You have nothing to be sorry for baby, do you wanna come in? Maybe trying sleeping in here so you aren’t by yourself? I can sleep on the floor if that will make you more comfortable?” He asks, slowly guiding you into his room, his breath hitching as you whisper,

“A-Actually…c-could you nest with me instead? I-I think that’ll help…”

He could have screamed with joy at your proposition. You were starting to take initiation, no matter how small it may be, it was a start and it excited him.

“Of course, do you need anything to build your nest? Help yourself to whatever you want baby.” He smiles standing aside to let you do what you needed to do. And so you began, grabbing any item that smelt of the boys, shirts, blankets, hoodies, you grabbed them all and carefully built your nest. You wanted it to be perfected, it needed to be. The urge inside you wanting to impress your mate but you had no idea that no matter what you did, Jungkook would always be impressed.

“In.” Was all you said once you had finished, patting the place beside you in the middle of the nest. A teasing smile appears on Jungkook’s face, playfully crossing his arms and pretending to think.

“In? You want me to get in? I don’t know…” He teases making you huff and pout at him, glaring.

“Kookie…” You whine in frustration making him laugh and shaking his head. You were just to cute to not tease.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming in now.” He coos, and carefully lays in your nest, allowing you to move him to where you wanted, a content smile on his face as you curl up into the side of him, purring and chuffing. You really were just a cat.

“Thank you Jungkook, for this…for all of you putting up with me.” You say quietly, closing your eyes in attempt to try and fall asleep. But it still felt like something was missing, like you need something more to fall asleep.

“We’re putting up with nothing Little one, we’re here because we want to be, because care for you and want to help you in anyway we can alright?” He yawns, playing with your hair and pouting noticing your fidgeting.

“Still can’t get comfortable to sleep Sweet girl? Is something playing on your mind?” He asks softly, tilting his head as you nod and sit up to look at him.

“Feels like something is missing…” You practically cry out.

Jungkook thinks before a thought pops into his head, sitting up with you and hesitantly asking,

“Do you reckon it’s the rest of the boys that’s missing baby? Is that what it is?”

You nod slowly as you realize that yes, it was what was missing, what you needed. You need all seven of them in your nest, all your mates but it felt too selfish to do. You had already disturbed Jungkook, you couldn’t wake the rest.

“B-But I don’t wanna wake them. That’d be unfair.” You pout before going to lay back down.

“It’s okay, don’t worry we’ll find another way to help make you sleep…why don’t we read? We’ll go sit downstairs and I’ll start teaching you, how does that sound?” He proposes and a smile appears on your face as you nod. You liked the sound of that.

—

Namjoon sighs as he sits down on the couch, the house is filled with silence as everyone sleeps, the only sound is the clock ticking away. It was late. Just past one in the morning and Namjoon couldn't sleep. Tossing and turning all night, his stress taking a toll on him.

Whilst Hoseok was embarking on his investigation of your abusers, Namjoon had started his own. He was determined to find who this inside person was, doing the cover-up on your documentation and who knows how many more Hybrids and was proving to be challenging. So far he couldn't find a single thing. Not a single speck of dirt on any of his employees, he was close to hitting a dead end but he refused to give up, hoping that eventually, he'll find something.

Anything, even if it was the tiniest bit of evidence. He couldn't let these Hybrids down. He couldn't let you down. He prided himself in protecting and providing for Hybrids in need and built his whole career on it. His whole business. But right now he felt like he was failing. He was angry, ashamed, and guilty that he allowed someone so dirty to work for him, allowed them to slip through the security checks he so thoroughly does but clearly not thorough enough.

Namjoon stares at the blank screen of the television, his head quickly turning as he hears a creak of the floor boards before relaxing when he sees the two pairs of doe eyes he's grown to adore so much staring back at his exhausted figure.

"Baby. Princess. What are you two doing up?" He asks quietly, tilting his head as he sees an alphabetical book tight in your grasp, his heart skipping a beat at the pouts on both of your faces. He swore your pout could challenge his youngest boyfriends.

"We could ask you the same Joonie. Little one here, couldn't sleep so she decided to nest with me in hopes it'd help but it didn't so we were going to sit down here so I could teach her how to read." Jungkook explains giving Namjoon a concerned smile.

"I couldn't sleep either Princess, it's okay it happens to us all sometimes. Come here, why don't both of us teach you hm?" Namjoon says tiredly, letting out a yawn and stretching.

"B-But you're tired. I don't want to be a burden to you. Y-You've been working a lot Namjoonie." You whisper shyly, shuffling in your place. Out of all the boys, Namjoon intimidated you the most. You weren't scared of him. You could never be with how caring he is but he just screamed alpha of the house to you with how much authority he held.

Namjoon all but smiles softly at you, shaking his head as he pats the spot on the couch beside him, inviting you both to join him as he says reassuringly,

"Nonsense. You could never be a burden Babygirl, now let's read this book shall we?"

You nod and both you and Jungkook sit down, you sandwiched in between them both as Namjoon takes the book and opens it, beginning to teach you each letter, even going as far as getting a notebook out so you could even practice writing.

“Is everything making sense so far Princess? Tell us if you need to go over something again okay?” Namjoon asks after a little while, smiling when he looks over to you when he gets no reply and finds that you had finally fallen asleep, pen almost slipping of your hand.

“She’s so cute.” Jungkook chuckles, taking the pen out of your hand and looking over to Namjoon as he bookmarks the book and closes it.

“She is. How come she couldn’t sleep?” Namjoon asks leaning back into the couch and carefully laying your head down on his lap as Jungkook places your feet on his.

“I think she’s starting to accept or come to terms that we’re her mates, she couldn’t sleep because all of us weren’t in the nest, she was so frustrated but she didn’t want to wake any of you up.” Jungkook smiles, rubbing up and down your calf. Namjoon chuckles and looks down at you, adoringly before he gets an idea.

“I have an idea, Jungkook wake the boys up, try and make a nest and a nest big enough for us all in the master bedroom, we’re going to do what she wanted, have us all in a nest, I think it’ll be a nice surprise for her in the morning when she wakes up.”

And so Jungkook did. He woke each of them up, explaining to them what was happening, bright smiles on all their faces as they worked together to build the nest, hearts fluttering as Namjoon carries you into the room and places you in the middle of them all, love filling the room as you all filled the nest, snuggled up together, content smiles on your faces as you all slept. Even Namjoon managed to fall asleep at last. Peaceful and happy.

Unaware of what was coming.

PERMANENT TAGLIST

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#little leopard #bts #hoseok #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #jimin #jungkook #taehyung #bts polyamory #bts poly #polyamorous bts #polyamory bts #poly bts #bts hybrid au #bts strangers to lovers au #hybrid bts #bts x hybrid reader #ot7 bts x reader

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presidenthades · 5 months ago

Note

⚠️Spoilers for S.2 ep.2, kinda❓

DAERON EXISTS, LIFE MAKES SENSE AGAIN!

Anyhow, your thoughts on the new episode🎤???

Oh, and in celebration of show!Daeron's confirmed existence: mini tiny Joffron doodle ig? Made with love, not with skill☝️💚🖤❤️

Wait omigod I love this. Why does it perfectly encapsulate the two of them. 😭😍🥰 They really do have a reverse Hades/Persephone dynamic! Honestly I love this art style, it’s giving a chibi vibe that I adore. I’m going to link this to my HOTD artwork list.

Anyway yes, Daeron truthers rise up. ✊

(Obviously, S2E2 spoilers below the cut.)

First I’ll start with new thoughts on B&C. After my rewatch, most of my feelings about E1 remained the same, but I want to update my reaction to B&C. Helaena’s muted reaction made more sense to me the second time around. It is consistent with her character, and the BTS info about her visions makes it understandable why she seemed to treat Jaehaerys’s death as inevitable.

HOWEVER. Viewers should not be required to watch BTS commentaries etc. to have full context for the scene. The background info about Helaena’s visions should’ve been in the actual episode. If knowing about Helaena’s visions about her children’s potential demise is that important, they could and should have incorporated it I nto an actual scene. For example, instead of her opening scene being her embroidering, she could’ve been scribbling about that vision in her notebook.

If for some reason this was too difficult to film, there’s one small change they could’ve made to B&C which would’ve made a huge difference, visions or no visions. When Blood says both children “look the same,” Cheese could have responded with “just kill them both.” This instantly heightens the stakes and makes Helaena’s actions more understandable to even the most casual viewer: if she doesn’t point out Jaehaerys, then both her children die.

End of E1 rant. Onto E2 rant!

I’ve seen a lot of different reactions to this episode. Some say it was great, some say it was awful. IMO, your takeaway of how good the episode was probably depends on who your favorite characters are.

I think Rhaenyra and Aegon had the best scenes this episode. Otto also had some banger lines, and Helaena made me feel a lot of emotions. Daemon did not come away particularly well, Aemond was a little weird, Alicent continues to be frustrating, and I’m convinced that Criston is the writing room’s whipping boy.

TGC really got to show off his acting chops this episode. Personally I wish they could’ve spent more time on Aegon smashing the LEGOs and bludgeoning Blood, but that is a me preference. I think Aegon really did love Jaehaerys, AND he is angry about the blow that has been struck again him as king. Both these things can be true at the same time. The end scene where he’s crying alone in his room proves that his grief isn’t just a show.

And I don’t mind that Aegon’s decision to hang all the rat-catchers makes him seem violent and impetuous, because he is violent and impetuous. The scene is also framed so that you understand why Aegon did it; we see Cheese hanging with the others. And let’s be honest, if Rhaenyra did something similar to avenge Luke (eg burn down Storm’s End because Borros contributed to his demise, which would kill a lot of other people too), a lot of viewers would cheer her on.

(I was definitely thinking during the “Aegon fires Otto” scene that Aegon could really use a Jacaera to kindly knock some sense into him. 🥲)

Speaking of the end scene…omigod Alicent why. 💀 Conceptually, I understand there’s generational trauma going on. Otto was cold with Alicent, who is in turn cold with Aegon especially. But like. Holy shit. Give your son a 5-second hug. It would’ve been nice if they could at least show Alicent feeling conflicted, like she wants to comfort her son but feels incapable, so she walks away.

Backtracking a bit: I feel like Alicent is consistently made the focus of the story in places where she arguably should not be the focus, and I wonder if this is because the showrunners want to take advantage of the fact they’ve paid good money for Olivia Cooke. But I truly do not understand why it was Helaena and Alicent at the funeral rather than Helaena and Aegon. Otto said something about “our gentlest souls” but this could’ve been a great opportunity to showcase more of Aegon and Helaena’s complicated relationship and shared grief.

Whatever my other feelings on the scene, I do think Phia and Olivia’s acting was phenomenal. Helaena’s panic attack during the funeral 😱. I really just wanted to emergency evacuate her from that mess.

I’m going out of chronological order, but I’m going to backtrack again to Otto making the decision to have the funeral as a PR campaign. It’s very Machiavellian, and TBH I understand why he chose to do it. It is a huge blow against Rhaenyra’s reputation. But I feel like the show wants Otto and Daemon to be the only actual schemers on their respective sides. Everyone else kinda just whoopsies or white-knights their way through the narrative. I just want to shake the writers and tell them it’s okay for other characters to be villainous. There’s a reason Daemon is way more popular than Criston. At least Daemon fully commits to his bad decisions.

I kinda feel bad for Fabien Frankel because the writers seem to really have it out for Criston. They really want to make him the most hatable character. 💀 Imagine if instead we got a more Machiavellian Criston who intentionally decides to claw his way up from nothing to become one of the most powerful people in Westeros. Even if he does reprehensible things along the way, at least he does them purposefully, not because he’s incompetent.

I almost forgot to talk about Aemond, because he really has not been getting a lot of screen time these two episodes. The brothel scene was odd but not as odd as it could have been. I wish the writers would stop having his personality revolve around Daemon, but it’s probably their way of building up to God’s Eye. Honestly, I would’ve preferred a scene of Aemond with his family dealing with B&C aftermath rather than fucking off to the brothel.

Now, changing topics to the Rhaenyra and Daemon divorce scene. I think viewers’ reactions to this scene depend a lot on whether or not you’re a Daemon fan. He really comes off not great in the entire sequence from when Rhaenyra learns about B&C to when Daemon leaves. Also, it’s very obvious Sara Hess wrote the scene; she’s been vocal about how she dislikes Daemon, and a lot of what Rhaenyra says seems to be opinions that Sara has shared. I think Rhaenyra was right to call out Daemon for B&C and for lying to her face about it.

It may have been better if they had more buildup showing cracks between Daemon and Rhaenyra, because she’s also calling him out for a lot of stuff besides B&C. There was the S1E10 argument and choking scene, but some more interaction in S2E1 or E2 where they’re at odds would have made it fresher in viewers’ memories. But it’s not necessary, and I think the scene works as is.

Despite viewers’ feelings on this scenes, it was VERY well acted by both Emma and Matt. And it leads to Rhaenyra’s interesting interaction with Baela. Rhaenyra refuses to risk Jace and send him out on patrol near KL, but she tells Baela to do the exact same thing. It’s very subtle, and the scene is framed as a positive thing between the two characters, but this is probably the most morally gray decision Rhaenyra makes in this episode. She won’t risk her child, but she will risk Daemon’s child immediately after they fought.

The Mysaria scenes were interesting. I really don’t mind the show’s efforts to whitewash her. She’s horrible in the book, but show!Mysaria is actually sympathetic for the most part. She worked her way up from nothing but the people in charge of the system keep stomping her back down. I think her dialogue about Daemon/Otto/powerful men was heavy-handed foreshadowing that she’s going to end up serving Rhaenyra, who is notably not a man.

I don’t have a lot of groundbreaking comments about Erryk & Arryk. It was very emotionally impactful…and I wish the episode had ended either with them dying, or with the scene where Aegon is crying by himself, rather than ANOTHER Alicole sex scene. 💀

Overall, this episode had its highlights, and acting is phenomenal as always. But the writers really need to figure out what to do with Alicent and Criston, other than have the fuck all the time.

#ask me anything #house of the dragon #house of the dragon season 2 #hotd s2 #hotd season 2

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stationarcadia · 4 months ago

Text

Announcement

Hello everyone. This is J. R. Steele on the Station Arcadia account today bringing you some updates, announcements, etc.

Firstly, you may have noticed that our website domain is currently unused. We've recently taken down our website, but failed to consider that transcripts would no longer be available. The link to our transcripts will replace the link in our profile bio. Thank you to everyone in the discord server who has been patient with our radio silence, and have updated us on what they need to access.

Second, we want to apologize for dropping off after Season 1. With Season 2 in full production; myself, Andy, and Eli were incredibly overwhelmed by both college, and the responsibility of managing not only a company, but our cast and crew who were also getting burnt out. Pushing this production was proving to be detrimental to our mental and physical health, and so we just left it to sit for a while.

I've been doing my best when possible to reply to folks on discord, and get organized for our next steps, but going radio silent was not the best solution, we know now. As 17/18 year olds, we sort of panicked when everything started to go less smoothly. In addition to that, college apparently takes up a LOT of time? I certainly wasn't expecting that... /lh

But we are not abandoning this podcast. 2020 was a hard year for so many people, but Station Arcadia was the highlight of mine and many others' year. A lot of creatives experienced the hardships of continuing a creative project once real life came back, and we did too. But we managed to create an incredible first season, and a little bit of a second season.

Season 2 does exist! But not in its full form. Over the course of maybe the next few months, or years, the executive team will be discussing how to distribute our content so that you amazing, supportive folks can have full access to our baby. Our writers, worldbuilders, audio editors, musicians, cast members, and everyone else who helps to make this show happen worked incredibly hard to do S2, and we won't let any of that hard work go to waste.

Third, a few internal snags have hit us pretty hard over the past year now. We will not be releasing this information until we've spoken fully with our entire production team and our cast (but rest assured it's nothing too severe).

We've loved our time with every single cast member who has joined this ambitious project. And if any of you have a specific question, we will not hesitate to answer it. It may reach us quicker if you DM or email me (Jaymes) at [email protected]. I will do my best to respond concisely and truthfully.

Lastly, we want to say a few words of thanks to the folks who have stuck with us since the beginning, have supported us both financially and verbally, and have had faith in this project. We promise that even though it will take time, we will not disappoint you!

From the bottom of our hearts, thank you. Stay safe, stay moving, and please stick close. We'll be back soon.

#station arcadia #arcpod #podcast #sapod #kass #indie podcasts #podcasts #production update #arcadia #audio drama #transcripts

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lemotmo · 4 months ago

Note

It begins 🤣

Q. Liking that particular pic and deliberately skipping over the Oliver one was a choice.

Q. Lou sees the passive aggressiveness from Oliver and chooses to match it. Well played

Q. I see people saying he liked the photo but I can't find his like?? Did he really like it?

Q. That timing was sus

Q. Oh they hate each other 🤣

Q. That was an odd choice for his proof of life.

A. Sigh. Will I ever know peace again? I want to start by saying that I also haven't found the like. But I didn't do a deep dive to look for it either. So I will assume, for now, that it's there. Having said that, he's just weird, I'm sorry. That's a bizarre thing to do. He hasn't had anything at all to do with anything any of them have posted in forever. The timing of it is a little suspicious. However I do have an ask that says Lou knows the photographer so maybe that's why he liked it. I don't know. I am not a conspiracy person, but he clearly saw the 911 related photo that Oliver took and intentionally didn't 'like' that one. That doesn't do anything to counter the argument that he's no longer allowed to talk about 911 related things. If anything it kind of lends proof to that take. In the end it probably genuinely doesn't mean anything. But yeah that wasn't the proof of life his fans were asking for. It might make them ease off Ryan a bit though, which would be nice since they act like a bunch of racist lunatics where he's concerned.

It probably won't make things easier for Oliver though. And they were already amping up their dislike of him, so I'm already irritated on his behalf. Look it can kind of be seen as just one more indication that they genuinely don't seem to like one another. It does come across as a very passive aggressive gesture, unless he does truly know that photographer. If he doesn't know the photographer though then it can probably be viewed as intentionally passive aggressive. Whatever the reason though it definitely continues to prove that the guy is just really freaking weird.

Thank you Nonny. Yeah, we saw this coming, didn't we?

As for the post itself? Yeah, basically this... all of this. Ali is right.

I haven't really searched for the like myself, since that would take up a lot of time. But one of the more radical BT stans posted a picture of Lou liking the photograph and, judging by the accompanying message, they were clearly disappointed in their icon. So yeah, it is real.

I don't even want to understand Lou anymore. I would just like to put all of this behind me and forget he even exists. Unfortunately I can't do that quite yet. Hopefully soon though. Very soon.

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

#anonymous blog I love #BT fandom #nonnies galore

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wakacreations · 6 months ago

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Zevlor's Bizarre Cocoa Adventure (Ch. 1)

@falcatamandarina Here's a little treat for you. <3

Prologue Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5

Word Count: 1610

Summary:

Tav gifted Zevlor a box of chocolates. The last of the chocolates were eaten and the last chocolate review was sent. Now, how will Zevlor return his thanks? With a box of chocolates of course!

“That is the last of the letters” as Zevlor neatly folded and sealed the letter. When he took upon the task of being Tav’s chocolate reviewer, the thought never occurred that his eating habits would lead to such affairs. “I’ll have to thank Tilses for divulging such information.” Zevlor thought as he leaned back in his chair. A whole month worth of letters in exchange for a box of thirty chocolates. Each review slowly came attached with a memory of his youth. At some point he wrote,

“You know, Tav the white chocolate orange reminds me of the orange sherbet of Elturel. Maybe it is the sweltering weather of Baldur’s Gate and the taste of orange on my tongue. This is a Hellriders’ secret but we secretly took shifts to watch for our superiors and snuck off to go purchase some. I was always the lookout, of course best believe we needed one person that had absolute deniability. I had grown used to the rough punishment of our superiors but what was another verbal lashing and physical torment to a Hellrider? If you ever come across some orange sherbet on your journey, do give it a try. It is quite refreshing and perfect for such a warm day.”

He himself often questioned if his letters were long winded ramblings of an old man. Maybe Tav would get bored of his mundane updates into his life he lives now in Baldur’s Gate. It would be different if he were still a hellrider. A man of valor, of duty and purpose. He had spent his life more outside the city’s borders on patrol than within its walls as he climbed their ranks. He was out and about settling skirmishes at the borders with monsters. In his later years, slaying hordes of undead that besieged his people and home. Then the fall occurred then everything… Tav surely understands his yearning for a peaceful existence but as an adventurer at heart as they were, would grow tired of such a life in contrast.

Zevlor stared up longingly at the ceiling, their tail swishing idly sweeping at the floor. Even if that is the case, their correspondence proves one thing… they will return to Baldur’s Gate. “Now, what shall I give back to them in return? I suppose if one gives chocolates, they would expect some in return.” as he stretched his legs. “They can’t be no ordinary chocolates. Maybe truffle perhaps. Such an old sentimental fool his old Hellriders would have jabbed at him.” A warm chuckle escaped him. His hands resting on his thighs as he raised out of his chair, his knees gave a slick crack. “Old, old indeed.” Zevlor sighed.

The shopping venture in Baldur’s Gate proved unfruitful. To his surprise, even the upper districts came up empty handed. Maybe it is due to the upper classes having such sweets directly shipped to their homes instead of visitings shops. Unlikely but the fact of the matter is there are no chocolates to be had or of any kinds. He did hear about some issues of goods traversing from the Underdark. Something about caravans being attacked more frequently. Though, that was just the nature of working in the Underdark. In any case, he found himself at the entrance of Sorcerous Sundries. While Rolan and himself shared few conversations during their travels from Elturel to Emerald Grove, they often found themselves awake at the same hours keeping watch over the others.

There be no need for conversation between the two of them. A simple nod of acknowledgement was enough words. “You are up with your own thoughts as well? The same as always, my friend. I’ll be here should you need anything.” The same silent conversation they held every night. Rolan kept up with his wizardry studies late till dawn. Zevlor meticulously checked the perimeter of the grove. He took note of any need for further fortifications and supplies for the next coming days. “It may be due for him to have some different reading material.” Zevlor thought as he peered at Rolan clutching a tattered spellbook, Evocations: The Basics of Elemental Spellcasting.

“I do not know how useful these books would be towards your studies but it is some new reading material regardless.” as he handed Rolan the small stack. “This is what I found during my patrol. If I come across any spell scrolls you’ll be the first to hear of them.” The younger tiefling stared wide-eyed as a smile slowly crossed their face. “Should you need anything, you know where to find me” Zevlor turned back towards the front gate. He was halfway towards the gate before, “Parchment, if you can find some.” called Rolan. “Thank you, Zevlor!” With a wave of goodbye, Zevlor returns to patrol once more.

There is a sort of pride to be had when you see your own flourishing. The young wizard, now the Master of Ramazith Tower. Lia, the up-and-coming sharpshooter of the flaming fist was working the desk. Cal, running an orphanage at Lakrissa’s and Alfira’s Bard school was scurrying around restocking shelves. To think just a moment before they were all huddled together near a campfire. “Zevlor! What brings you in? Up for another round against the flaming fist recruits? They have been very adamant this time they can best you” Lia grinned at the paladin. “Maybe some other time, Lia. Is Rolan in perchance?” The older tiefling scanned the many faces moving through the shop. “Oh, he’s in his study. I can go grab him if you need.” Cal said while moving boxes of scrolls. “That won’t be necessary, Cal but thank you.” Zevlor made his way up the tower’s staircase. “What do you think he’s really here for?” Cal glanced at his sister. “Knowing Zevlor… If it’s not working with the fist or helping with the shop, then there is a chocolate shortage.” Lia let out a yawn.

The Master of Ramazith Tower was busy penning down his findings. His time at the grove proved fruitful as a perfect environment for experimentation. There were wide open spaces where Rolan could perform spells and need not worry for whatever destruction was made. Colour Spray was the first spell he ever perfected be it in Avernus of all places. To Cal's insistence, he was able to change the color to blue. Rolan grimaced at the thought of the accidental fires it sparked in doing so and the scoldings from Lia at the grove. The second spell he perfected was Thunderwave after goblins attacks became more frequent. He later perfected Magic Missile and Mage Armour thanks to the materials Zevlor procured for him. Though he himself questioned if Zevlor knew when he gave him A Pleasurable Deal, the contents of the book. He gave him the benefit of the doubt, he probably didn’t. Rolan immediately tossed the book after skimming through. He did not say a word when he saw the book at Dammon’s tent and later his new workshop. “How was the Hellrider doing?” he thought as he continued to write. A knock at the door.

“You may enter. I am surprised you finally used some manners, Cal.” said the wizard not looking up from his writing. “Those long nights studying at the grove were worth it wouldn’t you say?” The wizard paused his quill ears perking up. “I am glad to see you are doing quite well for yourself. Do you prefer to be called Master Rolan or are we still on a first name basis?” as the Hellrider wandered to the shelves of the study. “First names as always, Zevlor. It is not often you come into the study.” Rolan watched the older tiefling skim the bindings of the books. He plucked a book off the shelves. “I remember you always had this book (Evocations: The Basics of Elemental Spellcasting) on hand. I am surprised it made it all the way to Baldur’s Gate. I can have it mended, you know.” Zevlor took his seat in front of Rolan. He carefully examined the tattered book.

“A kind gesture but that won’t be necessary. What is it you need, old friend?” Rolan took a sip of his tea. “Please, what’s mine is yours. If there is anything you need I can secure it for you.” The paladin let out a sigh. “As you know there seems to be a shortage of chocolate in Baldur’s Gate.” Rolan chuckled into his cup. “There seems to be so indeed. If anything I would have assumed you were the cause, Zevlor.” A flush began to creep up their face, tail irritatedly flicked about. “Worry not, I have already looked into the matter. I have a colleague from the Society of Brilliance that will have you sorted. Seek for someone named Blurg or Omeluum.” Rolan sat down his tea and began scribbling down the address.

“Though, do spare me a crate if you could kindly. The children under Cal’s care are expecting some pastries from me.” He handed him the note. “If you need anything else do let I, Cal or Lia know. It’s the least we could do for what you’ve done for us.” Rolan gave a warm smile. “Thank you, Rolan and I’ll see to it that the children are not disappointed then.” Zevlor rose out of his chair, and sat down Rolan’s book on the desk. The wizard waved the man off as he closed the door behind him. As he left the entrance of Sorcerous Sundries he heard, “Bye Grandad!” from Cal and “Make sure you come to training next time, ya!” called Lia over his shoulder. He made his way to the Society of Brilliance.

#bg3 #bg3fanart #baldursgate #bg3 art #my fanart #fanart #art #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate fanart #digitalart #zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor fanart #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #tiefling #zevlor bg3 #cocoa adventure

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saltnpepperbunny · 7 months ago

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SPB's Webcomics: Masterpost

"Rabbits are so human. Or perhaps, humans are so rabbit?" -Ronald Lockley, 1966

This masterpost is an assembly of my webcomics, all of which can be read on Tumblr! You will find links to each comic here, as well as links to story navigation and the original comic sites (which are a great place to binge). My comics are all heavily thematic and focus on things like queerness/LGBTQ, neurodivergence, disability, etc. Some are Pokemon comics and some are original stories. Enjoy!

Finding Your Roots is a pokemon nuzlocke comic depicting the story of Cedar, a mudkip from Littleroot who sets out on a journey to save the life of an orphaned egg. The region of Hoenn can be a dangerous place, especially to pokemon like Cedar and her friends. But together, Team Hearth can overcome even the greatest challenges. FYR explores themes of identity, race relations, disability, and queer existence.

Started in July 2018. Updates Tues/Fri.

@findingyourrootscomic First Page Story Navigation Comic Site

Children of the Light is an original comic featuring a dysfunctional family of light spirits. The second-youngest child, Tashi, wants to prove they're capable of being a forest guardian just like the rest of their siblings. To do so, Tashi must pass the Spirit Tree's test and successfully raise their newborn sibling Ru, who hears hallucinatory voices from plantlife, into a proper forest guardian. As fellow defective spirits, can Tashi and Ru overcome the odds? COTL explores themes of neurodivergence, ableism, abuse within families, and queer identity.

Started in October 2022. Updates Mon/Thurs.

@childrenofthelightcomic First Page Story Navigation Comic Site

Percy hasn't been here for a long time. In his place is his big sister Piper, who is determined to make sure no one notices he is gone. Now his life is her responsibility, but the bustling life of a gifted high schooler isn't easy to maintain. Thankfully, Piper has the Warren—the group of animals who live in her head and share her body. Can Piper prove to the world that nothing is wrong? Or will everything change when Percy's best friend Kai discovers the truth? PU explores themes of adolescence, queer identity, neurodivergence, and plurality. This is a collaborative project with co-authors TinySweetBunny and @thetruegge.

Started in January 2024. Updates Wed/Sat.

@pipeupcomic First Page Story Navigation Comic Site

After losing their mate in an accident, one young rabbit must navigate the challenges of the wild, bear the loss of their closest friend, and endure the cruelty of the herd's superstition. What becomes of the rabbits who have faced the unimaginable and endured the greatest suffering? What does it mean to lose your soul? TTWH explores themes of grief, trauma, mental illness, and survival in a cruel, uncaring world.

October 2020 - February 2022

@thethingswehavecomic First Page Story Navigation Comic Site

Little Lapses is a PMD comic about a trio of friends: Holly the yungoos, Cinnabar the scorbunny, and Blue the phanpy. It's the last day of school, and things should be perfect... so why does Blue seem so sad? Holly and Cinnabar team up to cheer up their friend and make today the best day ever! But good intentions pave the road to trouble, and this trio of friends may be in for more than they can handle. LL explores themes of childhood, forgiveness, femalehood, and friendship. This is a collaborative project with co-author @zeropro.

August 2021 - July 2023

@pmdlittlelapses First Page Story Navigation Comic Site

#spb's comics #webcomic #comic #pokemon comic #original comic #graphic novel #pmd comic #nuzlocke #queer #lgbtq #disabled #neurodivergent #rabbits #pokemon #pokemon mystery dungeon #disability

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deepfriedhopesanddreams · 7 months ago

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Minicons in my Neon Road au!

Though the minicons still follow some similar rules in the regular Transformers robots in disguise, I did make some changes to some of the minicons.

They still need to form a mutual contract with their host I mean partners! Yes partners!!

Just like the original there's:

Activators

Buzzsaws

Cyclones

Torpedoes

Weaponizers

Unaligned factory made minicons (UFMMs)

Each of these minicons hailed from some part of Cybertron:

Activators are from Nova Cronum, the ability to power boost their partners with tremendous energy. They have a high intellect and constantly search for a partner equal to their taste and IQ. But when war struck, they proved to be quite helpful (though they are still very picky).

Buzzsaws are one of the most commonly used minicons ever, they mostly stick around in Iacon city. They are the ideal little companions/bodyguards. But they seem to have inferiority complexes around other minicons, in the minicon world, they are considered average. In the war, their cuts are very useful in battle of course.

Cyclones origin homes are unknown, they could be found almost everywhere in Cybertron, from the wild to the cities, they are considered an enigma. They only seem to transform into wrecking balls and bash everything in their wake. They are "possibly" the least smart out of all the minicons (but that doesn't mean they can't learn like normal minicons, they're like earth children with neuro divergency, they need extra attention). When it comes to the war, they simply jump into the action for the thrills.

Torpedoes are from one of the Cybertron seas, possibly the Argon sea. Due to their recent migration to the cities, they are quite skittish or uninterested in other bots, simply trying to live a peaceful life. In the war, their damages were devastating, from the sea to the air above.

Weaponizers are a bit complicated with their origins, during the war, many minicons from all over Cybertron were modified into weaponizers to aid either the Autobots or the Decepticons. Their alt-modes vary from swords, spears, blasters, etc. They don't seem too happy about their place in the war...

Factory made minicons are well made from factories that are close to Tagan Heights. They only simply follow protocols and orders from superiors, but in some places they would be given personalities to liven up the workplace. They transform into various tools, but special ones could be given with built in weapons compact inside of them. During the war they seemed to be split, on one half, they were actively used, but the other, some locations of these minicons were so isolated and untouched, they weren't aware of the destruction on the planet.

The minicons relations...

It appears that they seem to be mostly on unfriendly terms, that doesn't mean it's on every minicon.

There are some cases of mixed minicons (commonly called Mixicons) for example Activators/Buzzsaws, Buzzsaws/Torpedoes, Cyclones/Weaponizers, etc. this shows a lot of interesting designs on their newly formed kin, though how they do this is unknown. Factory made minicons are incompatible with these minicons.

The only documented list of these Mixicons:

Activators/Buzzsaws

Activators/Cyclones

Activators/Torpedoes

Activators/Weaponizers

Buzzsaws/Cyclones

Buzzsaws/Torpedoes

Buzzsaws/Weaponizers

Cyclone/Torpedoes

Cyclone/Weaponizers

Torpedoes/Weaponizers

Though some bots do claim these rare Mixicons exist, there appears to be little to no sightings of them ever, they are called the Landmine Mixicon and the Warhead Mixicon. This claim is so absurd, let's pray that these minicons never exist, EVER.

That is all the minicon info I could provide in this world, more updates will come in the future.

#transformers #working on a transformers au #transformers robots in disguise #tf rid 2015 #neon road au

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heyidkyay · 1 year ago

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

Part Twenty-Four - Part A

A/n: PLEASE READ!

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

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

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

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

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

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We’d been as thick as thieves since.

“She still not down yet?”

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

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

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

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

“It’s a ten minute walk, J.”

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

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

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

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

“Look, Y/n,”

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

“For the last half hour, yeah.”

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

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

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

“Jaim-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oi!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Vicky!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ha.” Jamie replied with a forced smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seattle.” He said.

My brows lifted in surprise, “Like America?”

He hummed his ascent.

“Wow. What’s it like over there?”

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

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

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

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

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

This music business was already proving to be difficult.

…

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

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

“Sod off, would you?”

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

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

“Nine times out of ten it does though.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“’S nothing, Matt.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thought you said I could have it?”

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

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

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

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

“You came!”

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

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

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

“Alright, mate. I’m Hann.”

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When can you start?”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It all came to a head one band practice though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, how you liking school?”

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

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

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

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

My eyebrows rose at that. “Oh yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Only George beat him to it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was shaken.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I withheld a sigh. For fucks sake, Matty.

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

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

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

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

“‘Course.”

He left it at that.

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

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

“Um, yeah. Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aren’t we all?”

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

“Yeah.” I said quietly instead.

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

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

George gazed down at me, “‘Spose.”

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

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

“Fair.” I chuckled.

“What about you?”

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

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

George hummed. “Hold you to it.”

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still.

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

I inhaled, in and out. Out then in.

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

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

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

No.

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

But you should know better by now, mum.

“Stop! Julio, stop please!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Steven!”

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

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

“The fuck do you want?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n?”

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

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

“Fucking hell, what, what h-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She ever hurt you?”

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

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

I let that sink in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s okay. Just, didn’t expect it.”

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

…

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

“Don’t own them.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I snorted.

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

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

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

Vicky giggled to herself, “Kinky.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Prick!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, miss.”

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

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

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

…

Jamie Taylor’s parties were always something to remember.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, hey! There she is!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How you lads enjoyin’ the party then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jaim?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

I wouldn’t say that but, “I ‘spose.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My brain short-circuited.

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

Shit. Jamie liked me.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What not even a cymbal-banging monkey?”

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

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

“Pig.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I hummed, “Yeah, him.”

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

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

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

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

“You’re being pretty vague here.”

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

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

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

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

Ross hummed when I paused for a breath.

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

“Right…”

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

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

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

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

I frowned. “What was?”

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

“Ross!” I exclaimed, in utter disbelief.

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

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

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

I stared back at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

Ross shot me another look, smirking all the while.

Oh, shit.

Part B>

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branmuffins22 · 1 year ago

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THE TIME IS UPON US ONCE AGAIN FOR A MUFFINTOP FIC REC!!!

This fic has been a big favorite of mine ever since it started coming out a few months ago, it scratches an itch I've felt for a long long time in this fandom (and does it maybe a little too well, I get antsy and end up doing a lot of re-reading between updates).

It's got long, juicy chapters; unsettlingly and appropriately dry tone and delivery (I'm pretty sure there's only like 20 exclamation points in the whole fic (as it currently exists), and they're all in the dialogue, not the plain prose); a wonderful amount of time spent with characters who were thrown completely under the bus by canon (while still remaining (feasibly) canon-compliant, btw); some of the most fun original scenarios and characters a fic of its kind could possibly have (just wait 'till you meet the swizzler); and it's centered around everyone's favorite basilisk, Vee!

Honestly, the Ao3 summary doesn't really do it justice:

This is a sister story (pun intended) to The Owl House that follows Vee's adventures in the human realm.

Like, that's it. Simple, straightforward, and succinct, but gosh golly fuck, it sure doesn't sell it, or at least not to anyone but the most wildly obsessed (like me).

As such, I propose my own reader's summary:

Vee has had a hard life. She grew up in a cage. Coerced, studied, tortured, broken, and put back together again for as long as she can remember. As if her life in the cells weren't traumatic enough, her escape was just as much so, and nowhere near as certain. Alone on the run, she seized the first opportunity she found for a permanent solution, but that too proved to have flaws. Vee is not Luz, but she will do anything to secure her freedom, even if she has to be someone else to do it. She'll just have to survive summer camp, conspiracy theorists, and an ongoing barrage of crises, both external and internal. Anything and everything to be safe and free. This is a sister story (pun intended) to The Owl House that follow's Vee's adventures in the human realm.

#Gravesfield by NomDeGary #the owl house #toh #fan fiction #fanfic #fan fic #fic rec #vee noceda #camila noceda #toh masha #luz noceda #veesha #ohyeah its got some TASTY veesha in there #extremely slow burn #excruciating really #like we're over 100k words in and halfway through and it STILL isn't resolved.#came close a few times tho

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peskellence · 6 months ago

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Pairing: RK900/Gavin Reed

Tags: Post Pacifist Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Hurt/ Comfort

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Summary: In the aftermath of Detroit's android revolution, Nines grapples with the complexities of his newfound deviancy. As he seeks to establish his place in a newly transformed society, his resolve is put to the ultimate test when he is paired with Detective Gavin Reed-a notoriously volatile human with a well-established hatred for androids-to investigate a series of murders.

While initial impressions of his partner seem to suggest his reputation is well-deserved, the more time Nines spends with him, the more he is forced to challenge his judgments. As they form an unexpected bond, the RK900 is also pushed to examine truths about himself he would much rather seek to forget. (A Retelling of 'More Than Our Parts' from the POV of Nines.)

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Depression/Self Destructive Behaviour, Eventual Smut

Word Count: 6.9K

Tag List: @sweeteatercat @wedonthaveawhile @ladyj-pl @tentoriumcerebelli @negative-citadel

♡If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know♡

The passive assault of his presence was less egregious than the previous day, with the smell of cigarettes less pungent, overwhelmed by a cheap aftershave. It didn't make the journey pleasant, but it was tolerable nevertheless. Easier for him to filter traces of the man from his olfactory channels, keeping them clear for the most part.

It was approximately two minutes following their departure that Reed decided to speak, and his tolerability promptly expired.

"Connor called you Nines."

The detective wasn't looking directly at him, staring forlornly out the window with arms folded across his chest, like a child who had just been denied a visit to their favourite fast food chain. Despite his current avoidance, he still managed to find a way to glare at him through the reflection of the glass.

The android considered ignoring it—disregarding the grumblings as though he'd failed to hear them—but he knew this would only open the gates to further confrontation. While his partner was far from an expert in android physiology, he knew well enough that Nines was capable of advanced environmental awareness. It would make for a flimsy justification, one that could not be maintained for long.

"...Excuse me?" The words resembled a sigh as they weakly passed his lips.

"I asked if you had a name, and you lied to my face." Reed was now turned to him, having pulled his cheek from the glass. "Why would you do that?"

The oil of his skin and the fog of his breath had left an unsightly mark. Fitting, given the persistent stain the man was proving to be in his life.

Nines made an effort to keep his demeanour suitability impersonal, not wishing to encourage the dialogue. Taking a moment to compose his response, he mulled over the best method to shut things down as quickly as possible.

Evidently, the delay proved too much for Reed. He started to lean in, chin jutting belligerently, closing what limited gap existed between them. Nines found it fascinating how, despite all the open repulsion the man expressed towards him, he proved exceptionally willing to invade his personal space.

His partner had all but crawled into his lap as he asserted one of his fingers into his vision. The digit hovered dangerously close to his LED, threatening to tap it. " Hello ? You doing a software update or what?"

The RK900 tilted back as far as his current position allowed. Reed did not seem like the type who could be reliably trusted to wash his hands, and he did not wish for his hardware to become contaminated.

"It was not a name I chose for myself. It was assigned to me by Lieutenant Anderson, and RK800 has since adopted it. A nickname of sorts."

"How adorable." The detective's lips curled unpleasantly, revealing that any purported charm was entirely fictional, "and I don't get to know about your cute little pet name because...?"

"From my understanding, terms of endearment tend to be reserved for use amongst friends. While I hope we can find a way to work together amicably, I cannot anticipate ever feeling fondness towards you."

"So I'm not good enough to be your friend? That's a real shame."

Desperate for some means of distraction, Nines deactivated the vehicle's autopilot, taking hold of the wheel. He found solace in the act of driving: A task that required no complex personal engagement, just the methodic execution of his programme.

There was little point in making an effort with Reed. RK800's lessons in diplomacy could not be applied, as it seemed to matter little what approach he adopted—be it amenable or obstinate.

"I meant what I said yesterday about our partnership. Just because I can conduct myself with professionalism, a skill you seem to be woefully lacking in, it does not detract from the complete disdain I feel towards you."

The detective pulled back sharply, permitting access to the gear shift he had been draping himself over. His heart pounded in zealous thumps, rumbling through the RK900's skull.

" Screw you ." The words were snapped as a coarse hiss, the increase in blood flow igniting a fire across his cheeks. "I don't give two shits if you want to keep your nickname between you and your gal-pals. From now on, I'm calling you Nines."

The RK900 did not respond, maintaining his focus on the road ahead. It was clear Reed was lashing out in any way he could—at least, to whatever degree could be considered 'safe.'

He experienced a slight twinge of pride, knowing the man's fall from inflated assurance had been his doing. Evidently, the tumble had left him distraught, an emotional low he lacked the skill to pull himself up from.

While the constant yaps of protest were irritating, their impact was becoming more benign. All it had really required was a subtle tune of his inputs. 'PROTOCOL: REED' as he had labelled it in his database.

The newly developed system was not infallible, but it was helping. Nines was confident it would continue to increase in effectiveness—provided the stimuli remained predictable and no additional obstructions emerged.

Reed had relegated himself back to his post of sullen lookout, observing the passing buildings and cars as they whistled past. It was the closest to a willing forfeit he seemed capable of, which Nines received with cautious optimism.

The more the RK900 was permitted to function effectively, the quicker their affiliation could be dissolved. Allowing them to move on with their respective lives, the period spent as 'partners' an unfortunate footnote in their careers.

> Perhaps he can prove willing to learn.

> To adapt to the unfortunate circumstances of our partnership rather than let hatred rule him.

The vehicle was quiet for the remaining journey until they turned into the street of their destination. Passing a lacklustre procession of beaten-up stores, the automatic braking system activated, signalling they were close to the crime scene.

Reed only spoke again as the DPD barricades came into view, cornering a particularly derelict alley, as well as a number of officers:

"Well, look who it is..." The vehicle came to a stop along the perimeter, and the man wasted no time in making his escape.

The rattling of the door handle was sharp and hurried, like an animal trying to warp the bars of its enclosure. Nines half expected him to drop to his knees and break into a bestial sprint, charging down the sidewalk.

"I'll go and see what's happening. You stay in the car, and I'll call you, okay?"

His suggestion conflicted with the android's primary directive and was promptly disregarded. Studying the congestion on the road, Nines determined the safest approach would be to exit via the same route. He calmly slid his way over, moving to place his hand on the seal of the passage—

Then the door was slammed in his face.

> Perhaps not.

The world was momentarily forgotten as Nines' self-preservation protocol activated. He deftly retracted his hand, sparing it the force of the impact. His head could not be manoeuvred with the same efficiency as the momentum rattled the car, sending a ripple through the seats. The android fell back against them, clutching the side of his grazed cranial chassis.

After ensuring no internal damage had been sustained, he dismissed the warnings flashing in his ocular field. With cognitive functions reconfigured and preservation mode disengaged, the android was permitted freedom to make a more reasoned assessment of what had just occurred.

Very little was done with this permission.

Rational thought fell to the wayside in favour of a rising temper. Clearly, what minuscule credit he had lent Reed still proved entirely too generous.

Another notification entered his HUD, and he made a frustrated attempt to dismiss it—until releasing it had nothing to do with his rocketing internal temperature. It instead informed of an unread message on his communication network:

RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 >> RK900 #313 248 317 - 87

> I really am sorry about earlier. I wasn't thinking.

> Let me know when you arrive at the crime scene.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87 >> RK800 #313 248 317 - 51

> We have just arrived.

> Detective Reed has slammed the door of the patrol vehicle in my face.

RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 >> RK900 #313 248 317 - 87

> Oh. Right.

> RK800 is processing…

> Are you okay?

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87 >> RK800 #313 248 317 - 51

> My diagnostics suggest that no lasting damage has been sustained.

> So yes. Physically, I am fine.

RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 >> RK900 #313 248 317 - 87

> You don't know if he did it on purpose.

> It could have been an accident.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87 >> RK800 #313 248 317 - 51

> It wasn’t.

A petty side of him wished to stay in the car, allowing his partner to bumble aimlessly through the ongoing proceedings. He was certain the toxic mixture of apathy and overconfidence would lead to a plethora of missed evidence—the ensuing reprimand being something he’d gladly witness.

Unfortunately, Reed was not the only one who would suffer in this imagined scenario.

Poor-quality police work would only make his own duties harder, demanding he spend more time with his partner as he attempted to cobble together his woefully ramshackle accounts.

RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 >> RK900 #313 248 317 - 87

> Where is Gavin now? Is he still with you?

Nines looked through the window, studying his partner as he chatted with one of the attending officers. Given his broad smile and relaxed slouch, he had either developed a more sadistic delight for the brutalisation of androids—or their conversation had little to do with work.

Honing into the frequency of the exchange, the RK900 anticipated confirmation of the latter:

"—What about you and that Jack guy? I thought you two were getting serious."

"We were. Until he decided to trade me in for a younger model."

"Ahh, I see. Sorry to hear that—”

Having heard more than enough, he blocked the channel. As expected, the exchange consisted of little more than superfluous gossip, with the current area of focus being his partner's more amorous endeavours.

While he had never met this ‘Jack’ individual, the RK900 could only applaud their shrewd decision-making. It was a miracle Detective Reed had been able to secure any form of romantic companion, let alone one who had endured long enough to be considered ‘serious.’

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87 >> RK800 #313 248 317 - 51

> He is having a discussion with Officer Miller.

> About the recent dissolving of his domestic partnership.

RK800 glossed over the subject, his aversion to discussing Detective Reed's love life as understandable as it was blatant. Instead, he focused his attention on the previous message:

RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 >> RK900 #313 248 317 - 87

> Chris? I didn't realise he was back at work.

> Hank showed me some pictures he sent the other day. Damien was eating spaghetti and got it all over his face. It was very cute. :)

Nines could only assume ‘Damien’ was Officer Miller’s child. He did not care to verify.

RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 >> RK900 #313 248 317 - 87

> Here, I can send it to you.

>> IMAGE TRANSFER DENIED <<

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87 >> RK800 #313 248 317 - 51

> I would rather you didn't.

RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 >> RK900 #313 248 317 - 87

> Oh, okay…that's fine.

> I understand you're busy. Another time.

> Tell him Connor sends his best wishes!

Nines had no intention of honouring the request.

He was still far too heated, entirely too upset with his partner to focus on anything else. All he could think about now was putting an end to his most recent display of professional negligence.

With a clipped tut, he reached forward to claim the door handle, gripping it tightly. The harsh bang following his exit was enough to startle a nearby patrol officer. She jumped back from the noise, openly squealing. It had also summoned the attention of several other attendees, including Reed and Miller:

Their expressions fell in tandem as the android charged towards them, albeit settling into decidedly different outcomes. Reed's was a level of sullen contempt that almost appeared long-suffering despite their only two-day affiliation.

“Apologies for intruding on such a touching reunion,” the android began, levelling the men, but most aptly his partner, with an accusatory glare. “I would appreciate it if you could refrain from idle chit-chat, Detective Reed. We have a job to complete.”

Despite not being the target of his admonishment, Miller was decidedly more affected. His head perked up, eyes blown like a startled animal. One who had been scoped by a familiar, deadly predator.

Based on the man's prior experiences, Nines supposed this assessment could be considered accurate.

It had been three days into training when he enquired about the empty desk at the end of the precinct—and RK800 informed him accordingly. Officer Miller had been placed on compassionate leave, the consequence of a traumatic incident that occurred a few weeks prior.

The incident in question involved a run-in with a group of Jericho revolutionaries, as well as their leader. A stoic RK200 by the resignation ‘Markus.’

Once Miller's initial shock had waned, he proceeded in a flustered attempt to compose himself. After rubbing his clammy hands across the front of his uniform, he held one out in offering to the android.

"Hey, I, uh, I don't think we've met.” A smile was spread across his lips, so strained it looked as though it had been fastened by safety pins.

Beyond the feigned affability, Nines observed how his body shook in lingering tremours, curling into itself. His clunky work boots sidled back in miniscule steps as though he was subtly attempting to retreat.

"Officer RK900, Serial Number 313 248 317 - 87.” He did not oblige the handshake, seeing no point in physical contact that wasn't desired. "You appear to be nervous, Officer Miller, so I'll keep this brief. There is no need for drawn-out introductions.”

Miller's already deflated posture slumped even further as his arm fell limply to his side. Nines couldn't help but wonder if confirmation of his model number had contributed to the man's unease and whether he was aware of this bias.

RK800 would likely have disputed this if he were present. By all accounts, Miller had forgiven their predecessor for what occurred between them, as had seemingly everyone else. The common consensus was that RK200 had shown mercy.

Nines remained unconvinced, struggling to trust in noble intent given the performative nature of the revolutionary's actions.

It made for a powerful image, after all. A symbol for change, with a gun poised towards an agent of the establishments that sought to oppress them. Had he simply wished to ‘spare’ the human, there would have been no need for this performance. Holding the barrel to his head, pausing for solemn consideration before ultimately deciding to lower it.

His calculations proved accurate, as reports of the incident would sway the minds of many detractors. Generating support and sympathy that otherwise would have never existed.

Perhaps in another reality, where RK200 determined violence would send a stronger message, Miller had not been so fortunate. Reduced to a bloodied husk, his mind splattered across the tarmac…

“Please try to understand

with consideration

for 6o*4m0d£7, we had to 5̷̢̛̣̜̹̤͉̹̻̥̬͗́͊͐̆̍͆̚͝@̶̫͇̣̘͔̯͈̙̤͎͒̑̀̿͑̓͠ķ̵̡̛̗͍̳͉̞̮̺͖̰͍̤͂̅͂́͐̌͘ͅͅ#̶̢̛̼̩̘͍͍̝̭̝͂̇̏̂́́́̄̐͌̒͐̚c̵͚̪̯̻̜̣̳̫͒̀̀̄̍#̸̨̧̫̥͈̬̣̘̲̝͓̰̝͈̀͋̐́́̏̇̆̾̈́̉̇͘͝ŕ̵̢̧͇̯͖̤͉̣̩̝͕̈͜+̴̡̢̧̳͔̰̯̼͛̈̀̄̿̐̉͘͝͝@̶̛̬̖̯͙͍̤̘̙̗̼̤̻͎̪̲̇̓̆͑̀̐̆̇́̈́͑͆͘͝!̷̗̼̱̤̟̫͙͈̰̦͕͍̖̖̎̽̉̃̂͐͑̑̄̈͐́͘̚n̴͍̍̀̃̀̍͊̊̏̐͛̀͋̈́͝͝͝͝ͅ0̷̛͈̪͇̺̞̠̳̦̝̗͇̳͇̀̈́̋̉͝͠͠r̸̨̢̡̯̗̙̰͓͉͖̬͉͖͗͌̈́̏̎#̶̛̛̪̘͇̫̗͎̣̂̅͐̀̉́͛͆̀́̆̓͠͠ć̸̡̣͍̠̦̩̥̣̣ͅ@̷̛̛͔̯̓̃̑͐̈́̽̽ù̶͖͈̦̲͕͔̻̹̥͔̊̉̂̎͑͗͝+̷̨̟͓̐̉́̀̈̀!̵̡̩͓̲͍̯̰͌̉͋̈̌̒̊͋̐̾͐̌̈́̚͜͝0̵̧̪͍̯̝̟͚̹̖͍̹̙͍̫͖̯̈́́̒͌̿͌̿̅̇̔̉͠ū̷̖̳̩$̴̼̝̺̥͚͓̥͚̩͈͖̤̲̈͠—”

> MEMORY FILE CORRUPTED — CRITICAL SOFTWARE MALFUNCTION.

> RECALIBRATING DRIVERS…

Nines was forced to grapple with a wave of mangled cognition as his systems sought to return to a more functional state. The electrical pulses charging his brain proved deeply unpleasant, pushing his head into a sidelong tilt. His discomfort was helped little by Reed, who decided now would be the optimal time to fire off a groaned complaint.

“Could you not have stayed in the car? For five fucking minutes?”

The pulses amplified, radiating his neck, as his focus snapped to the man. His demand seemed rooted in some lingering sense of dominance, the idea that compliance should be expected.

It was a notion that proved woefully outdated and one the android was keen to correct.

“You have no authority over me, Detective,” Nines seethed, the title lingering bitterly on his tongue. “There was no reason to comply with your request.”

The partners found themselves in a stalemate, glaring at each other with mutual contempt, neither willing to budge. Miller had been placed in the middle, appearing intensely uncomfortable. He shuffled on the balls of his feet before making a fumbled attempt to cut through the tension.

"Do you…” The officer paused, his focus darting to Reed as though making a muted plea for escape, “want me to show you to the victim?"

The detective whipped around, moving at such a velocity that he almost generated his own wind current.

You read my mind. Nines, feel free to do your—” He waved his hand in a loose circling gesture, as though searching for the correct words before quickly giving up, “—analysis thingy, or whatever you android detectives like to call it."

The man was gone before Nines could object, pressing his hand to Miller's back and firmly ushering him into the alley. His urgency seemed to suggest that the victim might wander off were they not located immediately.

> Fine.

Secure in his knowledge that a deceased android did not pose an imminent flight risk, Nines determined the next logical step would be to complete a preliminary survey. Reasonably, someone had to, with the lead investigator having just made it clear he had no intention of doing so. It was yet another example of negligence, one he would make sure to include in his end-of-day report.

For now, he resigned himself to relying on existing records provided by first responders. The beginning of these was a witness statement from one of the victim's friends, a woman named Valerie Banks. They had planned to meet at a local coffee shop, but when the android failed to show up—unreachable by telecommunications—Valerie grew concerned.

The café was in a densely packed commercial area, about two blocks from the crime scene. While it could be reached by populated sidewalks, taking a shortcut through the alleyway reduced the overall journey time by approximately six minutes. The victim was well aware of this, using the route frequently.

It was because of this routine that the body was discovered so promptly. Fortunate for the authorities, but less so for the witness, who had been deeply traumatised by what she'd seen.

Bending down to street level, he studied the crumbled asphalt leading into the alley. The foundation had given way to a network of cracks, exposing the soil beneath. Running his fingers along the edge, there were limited signs of recent displacement, save those caused by the action.

Indeed, there was nothing to indicate any recent traffic until he moved further along the line and discovered a faded scuff. Dirt had been dragged from the central path, leading away from it. The print matched the patterned sole of a StrideTech ‘Velocity 2036’ sneaker: Women's Size 6.

The first stages of reconstruction began to commence. A wireframe effigy of the victim took shape at the edge of the sidewalk. It then idled in place, calmly awaiting further instruction.

> MJ100 ENTERED HERE.

He took a soil sample, rolling it between his fingers before placing it on his tongue. Using the garnered analytics, he scanned for other traces. They led him th

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