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archangeldyke-all · 10 months ago

Note

Hello Angel!!!

Perhaps Cowboy Sev breaking older Vi and Jinx out of jail. After so many years Sev would be so rusty that she needs reader to help too. Go wild with the shenanigans they get up too. Could bring back Silco and the boys to help legally maybe. Hilarious if somehow Vi got in trouble trying to impress Caitlyn and somehow managed to get Jinx involved. Also funny if Sev and reader meet Caitlyn as Vi’a girlfriend during this break out HAHHAHA

Pls I’m obsessed with cowboy Sevika HELP ME

Thank youuuuu

this is SOOOOOO cute such a good idea i'm crying.

men and minors dni

ten years into marriage, fifteen years into your relationship, eight years with the girls, five with them legally yours, and sevika finally retires.

there was no need for her to work at the ranch in the first place. the amount of loot she'd stolen and stored in your inn (both in your room hidden beneath the floorboards and in the rafters, and buried beneath your side garden) was enough to take care of you for ten lifetimes to come. but, sevika was used to spending her day on shimmer's back, and she needed something to do with her free time once she gave up her life of crime.

but now, things have changed. sevika's ready to settle down and spend her days in the inn with you. the girls are growing up, vi being sixteen and powder being twelve-- they'll be living their own lives soon, and sevika wants to be around to keep you company as you transition into empty nesters.

shimmer died last winter. the four of you spent her last days cuddled up beside her in the stable, feeding her sugar cubes by the handful, saying your final goodbyes to sev's trusty mare. she rests behind the side garden now, marked by a big stone vi and jinx engraved.

old man ernie died too, leaving his ranch to his son. when he took over, he offered to let sev keep her job, but she declined. she was ready to retire.

she's been adjusting to retired life really well.

she loves working behind the bar in the evening, chatting with locals who stop in for a drink and swapping stories with some of your shadier guests in the in.

she's gotten really into reading-- especially smutty paperback romances.

when she gets restless cooped up in the inn, you send her out to ride the new foal-- a sweet young horse the girls decided to name teddybear.

it's been great having sev around all the time. especially for your sex lives.

speaking of your sex lives, you and sevika have been having a particularly fun week. the girls took teddybear out on a trip to a town two days ride south. they're meeting up with mylo and claggor there to catch the traveling circus. and it's summer time, which is always your slow season, and as of two days ago-- you've got no guests. you and sevika have been having a fucking blast, fucking on any and every flat surface you can find. your legs have been like jelly all week long.

it's been paradise.

"what're you smilin' at?" sevika mumbles from her side of the bed. you grin, turning on your side to stare at your sleepy wife. it's the crack of dawn, not even the rooster is awake yet. just you and the crickets, singing through the open windows.

"you're awake." you say. sevika smiles.

"i am indeed. c'mon, what's got you smilin' all pretty, darlin'?" she asks again, yawning to punctuate her question.

you scooch forward to kiss her nose, and sevika grins, her eyes scrunching closed.

"what i've been smilin' at for the past fifteen years, baby." you say. sevika chuckles.

"havin' sweet dreams about me?"

"more like flashbacks to last night." you say, waggling youreyebrows salaciously. sevika laughs.

"mmm, knew we'd break the bedframe one'a these days." sevika says with a proud little smile. you giggle and sit up on your elbows to look over at the broken bedframe stacked against the wall beside where the two of you sleep-- on the mattress on the floor.

"shit, sev that was oak, can't believe you fucked me through oak." you laugh. sevika nods cockily.

"damn right i did." she says. you giggle and fall back down to bed, snuggling against her chest. "how're you feeling?" she asks.

you snort. "well, i don't think i'm gonna be able to walk straight for a few days, and i woke up giggling, so... i'm better than i've been since our honeymoon." you say.

sevika grins, her sweet little gap makes your heart melt, and she smacks your ass.

"fuck, i love you." she sighs. you giggle and kiss her neck.

"love you too."

you guys drift off to sleep in each other's arms.

an hour later, the rooster crows, and you both wake up smiling again.

"morning." sevika mumbles. you kiss her lips.

"morning."

"i'll fetch some fresh water if you start breakfast?" sevika offers.

"will you let the chickens out?" you ask. sevika nods.

"duh." she says. you grin.

"deal."

you guys move slowly, lazily rubbing your eyes and yawning as you wash your faces and brush your teeth, stretching and kissing between each article of clothing you pull over your naked bodies, luxuriating in the slow morning all to yourselves.

sevika laughs at the limp in your step, and you pinch the bruises you left on her shoulders in revenge.

you fry up some eggs and hashbowns, watching through the window over the stove as sevika pumps fresh water from the well, watering your garden, the chickens, and finally lugging two buckets inside for the two of you to share.

you guys eat breakfast on the front porch, cuddled together on the porch swing violet 'found' for the two of you a few years ago. (you're pretty sure she stole it off sheriff marcus' front porch, but violet hasn't admitted it yet, and the sheriff's still too scared of you and sev to say anything.)

"how do you think the girls're doin'?" you ask as you sip your coffee. sevika snorts.

"i knew you were gonna ask that." she teases. you roll you eyes and sevika leans over to press a kiss to your temple. "they're fine. you know they're fine." she says. you huff.

"i know, i just miss 'em." you say. sevika laughs.

"i do, too, darlin'." she says.

sevika leans in to kiss you, and you sigh against her, quickly melting against her lips. she licks against your lips and you hum, opening your mouth for her to slide her tongue into your mouth--

"ahem!" a voice calls.

you and sevika pull apart, necks snapping to the stairs in front of you where a teenage girl stands, blushing and rubbing the back of her neck.

sevika clears her throat in embarrassment. you giggle.

"how can we help you, honey?" you ask the girl. her eyes dart up to you, quickly shooting between you and sevika, back to you, and then sevika again.

"uh..." she chokes out. she squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head, before taking a deep breath. "s-sorry to inturrupt ma'am, i just-- d-do you happen to know a mylo and claggor? or violet and jinx, percha-"

"oh fuck." sevika groans. the girl squeaks at the curse, and you chuckle. "what did those shits get themselves into now?" she asks.

she blinks. "uhm. jail, miss." she says.

you blink.

sevika's jaw drops.

the girl clears her throat. "a-about thirty miles south of here in a small town call--"

"what did they do?" sevika groans. "i trained them for every scenario, how the fuck did they get caught?!" she whines.

you blink again, spots in your vision popping up.

"uh... they shot the sheriff?" she says.

you gasp.

sevika laughs.

"shit." she says, somewhat impressed. "on purpose?" she asks, her eyebrow raising.

you feel lightheaded.

"n-no ma'am. accident. he's still alive-- but he's sentenced them to hang at the end of the week..."

that's the last thing you hear before you black out.

you wake up in bed, sevika nervously hovering over you, pressing a wet cloth to your forehead.

"wha--"

"you passed out."

"jinx and vi--" you snap up in bed, scrambling to your feet. sevika's beside you in an instant, steadying you as you're knees threaten to give out beneath you.

"it's oka--"

"sevika don't you dare say 'it's okay' to me right now!" you snap. she shuts her mouth.

footsteps start up the steps, and you look over your shoulder, where the teenager from before appears, a fresh bucket of water in her hands.

she freezes at the top of the steps, taking in the tense environment she walked in, then turning red as a tomato when she tries to avert her eyes from you and sevika, and makes direct eyecontact with the broken bedframe behind the two of you.

you would laugh at the poor, flustered girl. now though, she just reminds you a bit of the first time violet saw you and sev kiss, and that just makes you want to vomit.

"caitlyn, here," sevika starts in an irritatingly annoying voice, "was hanging out with the kids at the circus, right cait?" sevika asks. caitlyn nods.

"i live in town." she explains.

"and when they got arrested, cait was the only one who got away. violet told her to come get us, right cait?" sevika asks again. caitlyn clears her throat.

"i rode through the night. i also sent a telegraph to a mr. silco?" she says. you blink.

"right. and we're all gonna meet in town, and we're gonna figure something out, okay baby?" she asks. you gulp.

"sevika--"

"honey, i'm not gonna let anyone put a damn finger on our kids." she says firmly. you look away from the teenager to take in the steely sincerity of your wife's eyes, and you gulp. she gently reaches up to cup your face. "c'mon, have a little faith in me, darlin'" she coos, melting into a soft smile. you sigh shakily. "i'm the fuckin' weary woman of the west-- what's a little jailbreak, huh?"

you take a deep breath and lean forward to press your forehead against hers.

"we're gonna need a few horses." you say. sevika grins.

"i'm way ahead of you." she says.

grayson was happy to lend you two horses and buggies, almost crying at the thought of the girls in trouble. she promised to come over every day to care for your chickens and garden while you were away, and you thanked her profusely before riding the animals home faster than you've ever ridden-- anxious to get back.

when you arrive, it's to caitlyn and sevika waist deep in the dirt behind your garden, a few yards away from where shimmer lays. for the first time since caitlyn's arrived, you laugh.

sevika's pulls a crate out of the ground prying it open with a crowbar. as she opens the crate, she reveals dozens of sticks of dynamite, and she grins up at you with a proud smile. you giggle, and roll your eyes. caitlyn shoots out of the hole, terrified by the explosives.

"i'm gonna pack up some food for the trip." you nod to your house. "come help me kid." you say. the girl nods eagerly, sprinting away from the dynamite. sevika laughs.

you guys pack quickly, visiting the cellar for cans of food, gathering the essentials for travel, a couple blankets and quilts, a pack of matches, canteens and jugs of water. while you're folding some clothes, both for you and sevika as well as jinx and powder, you break down into tears.

caitlyn flounders around you for a few seconds, and you try desperately to collect yourself, but you can't quite manage.

the girl gently, awkwardly pats your shoulder.

you turn around and hug her impossibly close to your chest. she squeaks.

"fuck. shit." you cry. you take a few deep breaths, squeezing the girl in your arms, before letting her go. "sorry." you say, dropping your hands at your sides. "thank you." you sob. "for coming to get us."

caitlyn blinks, then wraps her arms around you, pulling you toward her this time. you giggle through your laughs against her shoulder and she gently rubs your back.

"violet told me you'd freak out." she says... "you remind me of my mom."

"oh, fuck, do your parents know where you are?" you gasp, pulling away. caitlyn laughs.

"yes." she says. you raise an eyebrow at her and she sighs. "okay, no. but they think i'm safe, at the circus, they won't be looking for me for a while." she swears.

"you stupid fucking kids." you groan.

you leave town at noon, and ride until midnight. the trip is solemn, nobody tries to talk much.

sevika's got this look in her eye, something you haven't seen in a long time. she's up to something-- something more than her usual mischievous pranks and jokes. the gears in her head are grinding, you can practically see her run scenarios and outcomes back and forth through her mind's eye.

it's a little scary-- you forgot how focused and intense she gets when she's plotting something. it's mostly hot though.

but you can't really say that-- not with caitlyn lurking. still, sevika catches your eye a couple of times and smirks, like she knows just how hot she looks as she rides beside you.

caitlyn's a good navigator-- apparently she's a junior guide up and down the river, so she knows the route to town like the back of her hand. she gets you around mountains, avoids most hills, and knows the best spots to stop for when the horses need to rest. sevika's impressed. the two of them chat over the campfire about the surrounding areas, comparing notes and shortcuts they've learned over in their travels. it's so cute it breaks your heart.

it's a dry, warm night, so you sleep beneath the stars.

you don't sleep.

sevika doesn't sleep.

you just stare at the sky while caitlyn and the horses rest.

at one point, sevika reaches over and grabs your hand. "it's gonna be fine." she says. tears well up in your eyes.

"i love you so much." you say. sevika squeezes your hand so hard it's painful, and she replies shakily.

"i love you too darlin'."

it's silent long enough for you to think sevika's fallen asleep, but then she speaks again. "betcha five bucks caitlyn's vi's girlfriend."

you burst into laughter, smacking your hand over your mouth as you laugh. caitlyn stirs beside you, and you can feel sevika's silent, mischievous laughter beside you. you nudge her with your elbow.

when you catch your breath, and caitlyn's snoring returns, you whisper to your wife. "you have way too much faith in your daughter."

she snorts.

you get to town by noon, and sevika sets you and caitlyn up in a the saloon that was the address caitlyn had telegraphed to vander and silco. she takes off to scope out the police station.

it's a pretty gritty place, and you look around it with a raised eyebrow, then look down at caitlyn. she's sitting with perfect posture, dusting off her tailored riding coat.

"you hang out in this saloon?" you ask. she blinks up at you and then sighs.

"well, no... but it's where all the shootouts in town happen!" she says. "it felt... good for planning a crime?" she tries. you laugh.

"sevika's gonna love this." you say. she grins. "what do your parents do?" you ask. caitlyn gulps.

"uh... oil?" she says.

you burst out into laughter.

"shit you're an heiress?" you ask. she nods. you shake your head. "no way vi's bagged you yet." you mumble. caitlyn blushes bright red and clears her throat.

sevika comes back before sunset, sitting beside you at the table and scrawling away in her notebook little sketches of the prison, mumbling to herself, occasionally looking up to ask caitlyn questions.

surprisingly, cait seemed to know a lot.

"do you know which cell they're in?"

"the one on the far end here." caitlyn says, circling a part of sevika's diagram.

"and who else is being held right now?"

"nobody. the sheriff's been itching for some action."

"how do you know all of this?" you ask. caitlyn blushes.

"it's good to stay up to date on local going ons." she says. you chuckle.

she's a dork, you think fondly. she's perfect for violet.

sevika returns to her drawings and you decide it's time to interrogate your daughter's possible future girlfriend.

"how exactly did the kids shoot the sheriff?" you ask. caitlyn blushes bright red, and you raise your eyebrow.

"uh. well..."

sevika looks up from her notebook, intrigued.

caitlyn gulps, then looks away. "it might've been me." she whispers.

your eyes widen.

"what?" sevika asks.

caitlyn blinks, then speaks so fast it's almost impossible to make out. "violet was showing off all the cool things she could do, and i had packed my gun to bring to the circus because they've got contests for clay duck shooting and you can win twenty bucks if you make it to the tournement and i'm a really good shot--" she sucks in a breath, tears bubbling up in her eyes "so i wanted to show off my shooting skills and vi told me to shoot the big roasted hog in the food tent and i did right through the eyes! but i didn't see the sheriff on the other side of the pig getting himself a serving, so the bullet went straight through his shoulder." she finishes, gasping for another breath.

"how did--"

"and before i could even do anything violet was already taking the gun from my hands and telling me to run and i'm so sorry--" she starts to sob.

"shit, relax, kid, it's okay." sevika says, reaching out to pat caitlyn's back. you smile. "it's fine, we're not mad." sevika says. caitlyn gasps, her eyes shooting up between you and sevika.

"you're not?" she asks. you shake your head no. "o-oh." she whispers, wiping her eyes. you ruffle her hair.

silco and vander arrive quickly after. they took the train, and they clearly left the moment they got the message-- wearing day old wrinkled clothes, no luggage, just pistols tucked in every pocket on their bodies.

silco's greeting is a gaurentee that he's going to kill the kids before the sheriff can, and vander's apologetic assurances that his husband is only joking. silco's appearance seems to ease something in sevika, and the two of them quickly fall into a hushed conversation as sevika discusses her plan with silco. caitlyn's right beside them, a little furrow in her brow as she absorbs their hushed discussions.

vander, cordial as ever, gives you a hug and presses a solid kiss to your scalp.

"how're you holding up?" he asks.

"better now that you're here." you respond. he laughs.

"can i be honest?" he mumbles. you nod. "silco's not gonna get the chance to kill the kids, i'll have already fucking done it." he whispers. you laugh. "we're not young and spry like you and sev-- we both nearly had heart attacks when we got your message." he groans. you rub his shoulder as you laugh.

"you wanna hear somethin' that'll make you laugh?" you ask. he nods.

"violet's got a crush on the girl here." you say. vander raises his eyebrow, looking over at caitlyn, who's absorbed by the diagram of the prison, pointing and mumbling to an interested and engaged silco and sevika. "an oil heiress." you say. vander chuckles.

"huh. well are the feelings mutual?" he asks. you laugh.

"they better be. violet got all our fuckin' kids arrested for her ass." you whisper. vander groans and rolls his eyes, grabbing his chest.

"oh, don't tell me these things." he begs. you laugh.

"you're lucky you don't have girls." you say.

you wait until midnight to start your plan.

you split up into three groups.

silco and vander are the horsemen, both of grayson's and cait's, plus teddybear, who they found outside the jail, wrangled up and tied to the two carts-- ready to get out of town fast once you break the kids out.

sevika's on explosives, obviously.

you and caitlyn have to find a way to communicate with the kids.

you're helping wrap a bandanna around the lower half of caitlyn's face, tugging an old hat low on her face to disguise her as best as possible. she grunts and squirms.

"quit movin'. you're a fuckin heiress, everyone knows your face. you can't be seen breakin' kids outta prison." you say. she sighs.

"fine." she grunts as you wrap a scarf over her neck.

"okay." you whisper, satisfied now that she's bundled enough to be indistinguishable. "show me this window."

caitlyn guides you around the back of the jail building, and quietly points up to a cell window about fifteen feet off the ground, iron barred.

"take the beef jerkey." you say, shoving the paper package in her hand. she pockets it, and then you crouch. "stand on my shoulders." you say. she nods, clambering on top of you.

once she's steady, you groan as you stand to your full height. with caitlyn on your shoulders, she can peek through the window.

the window, apparently, sits above the sheriff's desk-- likely where he's in a whiskey induced coma now-- sleeping away the pain of his shoulder. oppisite his desk, are the iron bars holding your children.

the sheriff's got a dog, hence the beef jerkey.

caitlyn whistles into the window. you cringe.

the sheriff snores, and the dog whines. you can make out the plop of a piece of jerkey, and then caitlyn's whispered, "hi doggie!"

you bite back your smile, and almost collapse when you hear jinx's voice.

"oh for fuck's sake-- violet!" she whispers."your stupid fucking girlfriend's here!"

you grin, tears welling in your eyes at the sound of your kid.

"caitlyn!" violet exclaims. you take a shaky breath.

"we're blowing the back wall down." caitlyn whispers. "you need to shelter on this end."

there's some shuffling as the kids wake up and run over to the oppisite wall, and you grin at the pitter patter.

the sheriff gasps, and you freeze. caitlyn bites squeaks.

and then he's back to snoring. you sigh shakily and squeeze caitlyn's ankles.

"stay there. we'll see you on the other side." she whispers, then she jumps down from your shoulders.

the two of you take off for the oppisite side of the building where sevika's waiting for the two of you.

she grabs your hand as she lights the line to the dynamite. you hold your breath. the line sizzles, sizzles, sizzles, quickly reaching the sticks at the base of the wall, until it... fizzles out.

sevika holds her breath. you hold your breath. caitlyn gasps, "oh fuck-- what do we do no--"

she's cut off by a BOOM!

the ground shakes, dust goes flying, and the wall comes tumbling down.

as the dust clears, a small fire illuminating the inside of the cell, you grin as the kids start hooting and hollaring in amazement.

"THAT WAS FUCKING AWESOME!" jinx and claggor shout at the same time as they all come sprinting out of the cell.

sevika snorts, then smacks them both upside the head.

"fuckin' stealth mission, assholes!" she whisper-scolds. mylo cackles.

"sorry sevika, but the stealth went out the window with that wall!" he laughs. sevika snorts and wraps all three of them up in her strong arms.

beside you, violet gasps, tears streaming down her eyes as she reaches up to pull caitlyn's bandana away.

"you came back." she whispers dramatically. you roll your eyes at the pure corniness, and then melt at the sweet sight of caitlyn darting forward and pressing her lips against your daughter's.

it's clumsy and quick, and they're both pull away bright red and gasping. you quickly look away when violet's eyes dart toward you, pretending like you weren't looking.

it doesn't seem to matter though, because next thing you know you have an armful of violet, sobbing into your shoulder. you squeeze her tight against your chest, and press a kiss against her head.

"you're in so much fucking trouble." you whisper against her hair. she giggles between her sobs.

"i knew you'd come." she whispers. you laugh.

"duh, dumbass. we need someone to take care of the chickens every day." you say. she cackles.

a gunshot rings out, and you all jump, turning around to face the now- open cell.

the sheriff stand sin the debris, a shard of wood speared through his unshot arm, his gun held weakly in his hand at his waist.

you push violet and caitlyn away to run grabbing their hands as you sprint down the street. beside you, sevika's got mylo under her arm, and calggor's got jinx on his back as they sprint, screaming and laughing down main street.

as the sheriff chases after you, unloading his gun at you, a bullet grazes violet's arm. she gasps in pain, and you gasp in horror, and before you know what's happening you're spinning on your heel and stopping dead in your tracks, reaching for the pistol you'd tucked into your waistband this morning.

you take a deep breath, and close one eye. lining your barrel up with the sheriff's bald, sweaty face.

he gets closer. he gets closer. sevika notices you're missing behind you, screaming your name, and the sheriff's right in front of you.

you shoot, and he crumbles to the ground.

it's quiet, and then your ears start ringing, and then, as the music fades, the sound of jinx's celebratory hoots fill your ears. you grin and turn back around, jogging to catch up to your family where everyone besides jinx (whose dancing in celebration at your shot) is frozen in place and gawking at you.

you smack sevika's ass as you pass her, grabbing jinx's wrist as you continue down main street, toward where silco and vander were waiting.

"c'mon y'all, someone's gonna check in on all this commotion soon!" you call over your shoulder.

shocked laughs fill the dusty main street as you and your family flee.

the ride back to your inn is mostly spent in long lectures, hilarious re-tellings of the kids' experience in jail, and tears and kisses being pressed to cringing children's heads.

but when you get back home to your inn, on your turf, all the anxiety and stress from the journey wear off, and you can finally relax.

you set up vander and silco and the boys in three rooms. violet eagerly volunteers to host caitlyn in her room, which makes you all laugh, (jinx groans in disgust) and you allow it.

and then, after scrubbing down with a washcloth, you fall crawl into the mattress on the floor beside sevika.

she's been snoring since you got back. she woke up for dinner, then fell back asleep after. but the second your weight hits the bed, she's blinking open, a smile on her face. you snort at her.

"what's that look for?" you ask.

"y'know that was the hottest thing i've ever fuckin' seen?" she whispers. you laugh.

"oh yeah?" you ask. she nods.

"didn't think you had it in you." she says, smirking. you just shrug and wink at her.

"you woulda done it anyways, i saw that look in your eye." you say. she grins and nods.

"yeah, but i didn't even have to try. my fuckin' outlaw wife killed the sheriff for me." she says, a blush working up her cheeks. you grin.

"now you know how it feels." you say. she laughs and you dart forward to kiss her forehead.

"i love you." she whispers. "i'm gonna fuck you through the floor tomorrow morning." she mumbles as she drifts off to sleep. you laugh.

"not happenin' babe." you say, kissing her forehead. "the kids are underneath us."

sevika groans. "those stupid fuckers."

you laugh and kiss her again. "i love you, sev."

"you owe me five bucks." she says.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

#sorry for only one request tonight #my edible kicked in and i wrote a novel wtf #sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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jrob64 · 9 months ago

Text

Pet for Rent, Chapter 1/4 (The Meet Cute) A CS Modern AU Story

For those of you who read "Sowing Seeds of Trust", you might remember that my dog Zeke had a starring role in it. To my great heartbreak, he died of cancer last June. When we rescued him, the shelter had named him Ernie, and he will be referenced with that name in this story.

Life without a dog proved to be very lonely, so at the end of August, we rescued another dog. The sad story of the dog in this story is what really happened to our new dog. He was named Norman and we renamed him Winston, just like in the story. That's actually him in the pic set with his 'ducky'.

This was supposed to be a short, sweet story, but somehow turned into 4 chapters. Updates will be once a week.

Special thanks to my beta @hookedmom and also to @beckettj and @zaharadessert for helping me understand the football (soccer) system in England.

SUMMARY: Emma Swan tries to cheer up her heartbroken son by 'renting' a dog from the local animal shelter. When she attempts to do it a second time, she makes a mistake, and realizes the dog has been rented by someone else the same day - a very handsome man named Killian Jones.

RATING: M (for smut in the last chapter, which can easily be skipped if that's not your thing)

WORDS: 7754

ALSO POSTED TO A03 & FFN

Story begins under the cut

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma Swan flopped down onto her sofa with a sigh. Since their beloved dog Ernie died three weeks ago, she had come to dread her eight-year-old son Henry’s bedtime. Every night when he said his prayers, he ended with, “God, please tell Ernie I love him and miss him, and please send me another dog. Amen.”

Her son knew the chances of getting a dog were slim to none because of his soccer practices and games, and Emma’s schedule for her new job at the sheriff’s station. They had no time to train a puppy.

Understanding why he couldn’t have a dog didn’t make his heart hurt any less. Her heart was just as broken, knowing the sadness and loneliness Henry was experiencing.

After decompressing for a few minutes, Emma’s searching hand located her phone on the end table. She unlocked it and opened her Discord app, selecting the icon representing the parents’ group of Henry’s second grade class. Sitting up a little straighter, she typed a message: Does anyone have ideas of how to help Henry get over the loss of his dog? He keeps praying for a new one, but it wouldn’t be fair to the dog to get one with our busy schedule.

She watched the screen intently for a couple of minutes, but when no names appeared to show that someone was answering, she tossed the phone onto the couch and went into the kitchen to load the dishwasher.

Forty minutes later, after cleaning up the kitchen, going through her nightly routine and changing into her pajamas, she went back into the living room. Television held no interest for her, and realizing she finished her last library book the previous evening, she picked up her phone to mindlessly play a game. Upon unlocking it, her screen opened to the Discord page and she saw three replies to her question.

The first two simply expressed sympathy for the loss of Ernie, but the third one offered a helpful suggestion. Have you thought about ‘renting’ a dog for a day? The animal shelter just outside of town offers that option. We did it for my mother when her Maltese died. The post ended with the web address for the shelter.

Emma immediately pulled up the site and, after searching the homepage, clicked on the tab for ‘services’. Scrolling down the list, she saw ‘Rent-a-Pet’ and selected it. As she read the description of how the program worked, she idly twisted strands of blonde hair around her index finger.

It sounded like a great compromise for their situation. For a donation to the shelter in the form of money, bags of pet food, treats or toys, one of the available animals could come home with them for several hours. The dogs and cats were guaranteed to be docile and house-trained, and could be adopted by the ‘renter’, if desired.

Clicking on the link taking her to the bios of the pets currently housed at the shelter, she filtered it to include only canines. Pictures of nearly two dozen dogs filled the screen, each more adorable and aww-worthy than the last.

Quickly ruling out any that were guaranteed to shed fur all over her house or were bigger than her son, her search was narrowed to nine prospects. She knew her rambunctious son would be keen to play outside with the dog and walk him or her to Storybrooke’s dog park, so a tiny fru-fru pup was out of the question, too. That left six.

She selected one at a time, reading about their breed and temperament. When she brought up the picture of the fourth candidate, the big, chocolate brown eyes and happy expression nearly made her heart melt.

‘Norman’ was a mixed breed and very little was known about him, because he was found tied to a stop sign in the middle of Portland, Maine. He was guessed to be a cocker spaniel mix and was approximately 1-2 years old. His black fur looked sleek and Emma knew he probably wouldn’t shed. A short video showed him romping and playing with another dog in the fenced play yard of the shelter.

Saving the page, she brought up the calendar on her phone and checked their schedule for the rest of the week. Henry had an early soccer game on Saturday, which would be over by 10:30, leaving the rest of the morning and afternoon free. Switching back to the shelter website, she hit the ‘Rent-a-Pet’ button again and began filling in the information, selecting ‘Norman’ when it gave her the choice of animals.

She decided not to tell Henry about the plan, opting to surprise him with it instead.

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“Great game, kid,” Emma complimented her son, ruffling his sweaty hair. “Your pass to Avery was a nice assist. That goal turned out to be the game winner.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Henry grinned around his mouthful of granola bar. “That’s the first time all season we beat the orange team.”

“I know, and I think that calls for a celebration, don’t you?” Emma fished her car keys out of her jeans pocket, before picking up her lawn chair and water bottle.

“Are we gonna get ice cream?” he asked, before cramming the rest of his snack into his mouth.

“You just ate a granola bar and a banana, and lunch will be in just an hour or so,” she laughed. “I have something else in mind.”

“Whaisit?” he queried, the unswallowed food muffling his voice.

“Well, I know how much you miss Ernie, and Violet’s mom told me about a program at the animal shelter that lets you rent a pet for a few hours,” she answered slowly, watching his reaction out of the corner of her eye. “So, I signed up to get a dog for you to play with until three o’clock this afternoon.”

Henry stopped in his tracks, swallowing down the rest of his snack as his eyes grew wide. “Really? You can do that?”

“Yeah, we’re scheduled to pick him up at eleven. What do you think about that?”

His exuberant shout of joy and sprint to the car was all the answer she needed.

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Emma couldn’t keep up with her son once he unstrapped his safety belt, exited the car and bounded toward the front door of the shelter. He was already ringing the little bell on the counter for service before she made it inside and chided him lightly for not waiting for her.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with sandy hair and light blue eyes entered through a door, the barking of dogs stifled when it clicked shut behind him. He gave them a dazzling smile and greeted them warmly with a hearty ‘good morning’.

Emma reached forward to shake his hand. “Hi, I’m Emma Swan and this is my son, Henry.”

“David Nolan,” he responded, shaking her hand, then doing the same with Henry.

“My teacher’s name is Mrs. Nolan, the same as yours,” the boy told him.

“You wouldn’t happen to be in second grade at Storybrooke Elementary, would you?” David asked.

“Yeah,” Henry confirmed.

“Ah, well, that means your teacher is my wife!”

“Wow, cool!” Henry exclaimed. “She’s the best teacher I ever had!”

David’s grin grew even wider. “That’s good to hear. She tells me all about her students every evening and she thinks yours is the best class she’s ever had!”

“It’s quite a coincidence, meeting you here,” Emma commented with a smile.

“I’ll be sure to tell Mary Margaret I met the two of you. Now, what can I do for you today?”

Emma pulled her phone out of her purse, unlocked it, and tapped on the screen a few times. Then she laid it on the counter and turned it to show David. “I signed up for the Rent-a-Pet program. Here’s the email with my confirmation.”

David peered down at the screen and used his finger to scroll down a bit. “I see you chose Norman,” he commented, looking up at her.

“Um, yeah. Is he a good dog? I don’t want any messes in my house or car.”

“He’s a great dog,” he assured her, reaching back to the wall behind him to lift a leash off of a hook. “Gets along well with other dogs, seems to love kids, and is generally a very happy little guy.”

Henry bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. “Can we take him to the dog park? Ernie always loved going to the dog park.” His countenance dropped, a small cloud of sadness passing across his features.

David shared an understanding look with Emma. “Of course you can take him. I’m sure he will love it! Would you like to come back with me to get him?”

The boy turned to look at his mother. “Can I?”

“Sure, kid. I think I’ll come back, too, if Mr. Nolan doesn’t mind.”

“The more, the merrier,” David said cheerfully.

He waited until they joined him on the other side of the counter, then opened the door to the large room full of animal cages. Immediately, the sound of barking, howling and meows filled their ears.

“They get very excited when they know someone is coming back here. I think the animals closest to the door are spies and tell the others,” David joked, raising his voice to be heard over the din.

Emma walked behind Henry, watching him turn his head left and right to peer at the occupants of all of the pens.

“Aw, Mom, look at that little puppy! He’s so cute! Aw, that dog seems sad. I bet he doesn’t like being in a cage. Look Mom, they have cats here, too.” His litany was continuous as they slowly walked down the aisle between the enclosures.

Finally, David stopped in front of a pen and turned to them, gesturing toward the dog inside. “This is Norman. He has a sad story, but he’s kept his sweet temperament, haven’t you, boy?”

As if in answer, the black dog stood up, his tail starting to wag as he realized the man was talking about him. Henry dropped to his knees in front of the cage, placing his hands against the wire. “Hi, Norman! My name is Henry. Would you like to come home with us for a little while?” The dog’s tail was wagging so fast, his entire body wiggled. “I think he understands me, Mom!” Henry said excitedly.

As David slipped inside the pen to clip the leash to Norman’s collar, Emma asked, “Has he ever been rented before?”

“Several times,” David answered, straightening up once he had the leash attached. “He’s always done really well.” Opening the door of the kennel again, he allowed the dog to go ahead of him, out to where the boy still knelt.

“Hi, boy,” Henry crooned, running his hands over the dog’s head.

Emma bent down and stroked the sleek fur on Norman’s back and sides. “He’s so soft,” she commented.

“He appears to have the coat of a cocker spaniel,” David said, “but he’s definitely a mixed breed.” He watched the boy and dog interact for a few seconds before holding out the looped end of the leash. “Would you like to lead him out to the lobby, Henry?”

He looked up at Emma with hopeful eyes. “Is that okay, Mom?”

“How is he on a leash?” she asked David. “He won’t pull my kid’s arm out of the socket, will he?”

David laughed. “He does fairly well, but if he gets excited, he can get pretty rambunctious. He’ll be fine just going to the lobby, but you might have to walk him out to your car instead of Henry.”

“Sounds like a deal, kid,” she said, giving him a nod of approval.

Henry eagerly accepted the leash and started off down the aisle. “Come on, Norman. Come on, boy. You’re gonna like it at our house. We still have some of Ernie’s toys and balls.”

Emma and David trailed behind. “How long ago did you lose your dog?” he asked.

“Almost a month and Henry is really struggling with it. He and Ernie were best buds.”

“I’m sorry. That’s rough, especially for a kid.”

“And his mom,” Emma added. “I never realized how much I loved that dog, until he got sick and I knew we were going to lose him.”

“Hopefully, Norman will give you both a few hours of enjoyment and help ease the heartache a bit,” David said, before hurrying forward to pull the door open for Henry and the dog.

While David printed off the paperwork, Norman sniffed around Henry, who sat cross-legged on the floor, giggling when the dog licked his ears. “Ernie used to do that too, remember, Mom?”

Emma smiled down at him. “Yeah, you must have very tasty ears. Maybe you should start washing them better.”

“I won’t need to, after Norman washes them!”

She turned back to finish signing the papers. “It’s nice to hear him laughing again. He hasn’t done much of that lately,” she confided to David.

“I think this will be good for both of you and Norman. He really likes being around people. I’m very surprised he hasn’t been adopted yet.”

“Do you think there’s a reason for that?”

David shrugged. “This tends to be a slow time of the year for adoptions. Summer is over and school is back in session, so people don’t have as much time to welcome a new dog into their house.”

“That’s the boat we’re in right now,” Emma commented.

“Once it gets closer to Christmas, people will come in looking for pets to give as gifts. That’s good, but also bad, because about a quarter of them are brought back when they realize a pet is more work than they anticipated.”

“We got Ernie from the shelter when Henry was two. He was already five years old, house-trained and had all of the annoying puppy behaviors out of his system.”

“Most people want puppies instead of adult dogs, but there are a lot of advantages to getting an older dog.”

“Norman doesn’t seem to be very old.”

“I’d say at least two, but he’s pretty chill. Once he runs out of energy, he becomes a couch potato.” David collected the paperwork and tapped it on the counter to straighten it. “Well, that’s all I need from you. Norman is yours until three o’clock.”

“Yay!” Henry shouted, causing the dog to start barking.

Emma reached down to take the leash. “Don’t get him all riled up right before we put him in the car, kid.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Henry apologized. “I just can’t wait to get him home! Can he sit in the back with me?”

“Sure, but first you need to thank Mr. Nolan.”

Henry popped up from the floor and looked back at David. “Thanks, Mr. Nolan! I’ll take good care of Norman, I promise!”

“My pleasure, Henry. Have fun!” David grinned.

Mother and son exited the building, with Norman leading the way, tugging excitedly on the leash. “Slow down, pup,” Emma laughed.

Henry ran ahead to open the door of the yellow Volkswagen Beetle, sliding the front seat forward and clambering into the back. As soon as Norman reached the car, he hopped in and sat on the seat beside Henry like he’d done it every day of his life.

“Well, that was easy,” Emma commented, removing the loop of the leash from her wrist and tossing it beside the dog. After closing the door, she circled around behind the car to get into the driver’s seat. She looked into the rearview mirror and choked up at the sight meeting her eyes. Henry had his arms wrapped around Norman’s neck with his eyes closed and his head resting against the dog’s.

Emma was sure the time with Norman was going to be good for both boy and dog, but she couldn’t help but worry about what would happen when it came time to bring him back to the shelter.

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Emma was barely able to get Henry to eat when they got home, and had to reprimand him for sneaking Norman bits of his sandwich. The dog, for his part, sat politely while they ate, not begging or whining. She was impressed with his behavior, remembering how she had to break Ernie from begging at the table when they first adopted him.

Henry and Norman bonded quickly as they chased each other around the small backyard, playing with a tennis ball and squeaky toys from Ernie’s toy basket. Emma sat on their small patio, thoroughly enjoying the sounds of happy barking and her son’s laughter. She pulled out her phone and took a picture, posting it to the Discord group and tagging Violet’s mom to thank her for the idea of renting a pet.

Just after two o’clock, Emma suggested taking Norman to the dog park before going back to the shelter. They played there for forty minutes, then the three of them returned home and piled back into the car. Once again, she caught sight in the mirror of her son hugging the dog and sighed, but instead of dreading Norman’s return, she decided to enjoy every minute of happiness it was bringing to Henry…and herself.

Their time with the dog was over all too soon. After Emma parked the car at the shelter, Henry got out of the car and trudged to the door with the leash gripped tightly in his hand. Norman seemed to sense the boy’s mood and walked slowly beside him, his head hanging low.

David was at the desk to greet them again, an understanding look at his face at the dejected look of all three of them. “Was he good for you?” he asked.

“He was great,” Emma answered, rubbing her hand soothingly over her son’s back. “Wasn’t he, kid?”

“Yeah,” Henry quietly agreed, his eyes trained on the floor.

“You know, you’re welcome to rent Norman, or any of our other dogs, anytime you want,” David said.

Henry looked up. “But what if someone adopts him?”

“Well, that would be a good thing for Norman,” Emma reminded him.

“I guess,” Henry sighed. He knelt down beside the dog, wrapping him up in another hug. “I’ll miss you, boy, but maybe I’ll see you again.” The dog licked his cheek, eliciting a small giggle. Then Henry stood and held the leash out to David. “Thank you, Mr. Nolan. I had a lot of fun with Norman.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” David said, accepting the leash and moving around the counter. Patting the dog on the head, he added, “I hope we’ll see you again, soon.”

Henry turned pleading eyes to his mother. “Can we do it again next weekend, Mom?”

“You have Avery’s birthday party next Saturday, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Henry nodded, then bit his lip in contemplation. “The next weekend, then?”

Emma laughed. “We’ll see.” She leaned down to pet the dog’s head. “Be a good boy, Norman. You’re welcome at our house anytime.”

After saying their goodbyes, they watched David take the dog toward the door leading to the back. Norman turned and gave them a sad look before following the shelter worker through it, tearing at Emma’s heart even more.

She swallowed hard and said, “Come on, kid. Let’s go home.”

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The sadness soon wore off and for the next several days, Henry talked almost incessantly about all of the fun he had with Norman. Emma checked their schedule and saw that Henry had another early game three weeks later, which would be the last game of the soccer season. She relayed that news to Henry, asking him if he wanted to rent Norman again that day, and was answered with a very enthusiastic ‘YES!’

She nearly forgot to make the reservation, only remembering three days before, while waiting to pick Henry up from practice. Quickly, she pulled up the website and filled out the form, glancing up often to see if Henry was coming off the field because she always liked to meet him as soon as he did, instead of waiting for him in the car.

Emma was especially glad they decided to rent Norman Saturday, since Henry’s soccer team lost their final game by one goal. His downcast look was soon replaced with excitement when she reminded him that they would be going to the shelter.

When they arrived, he bounded out of the car and waited impatiently for his mom to join him, before practically sprinting to the door. It took a couple of minutes before David emerged from the back, beaming a smile when he saw them waiting at the counter.

“Henry! Emma! I’m very happy to see you again!”

“We’re here to get Norman,” Henry said excitedly.

A puzzled look crossed David’s face. “I’m sorry, but Norman is already being rented by somebody else today,” he informed them.

“What?” Henry asked, a slight tremor in his voice. Then he turned to Emma. “But Mom, you said we would be getting Norman.”

Emma was already pulling the email up on her phone. “There must be some mistake, Mr. Nolan. I reserved Norman when I filled out the form. See?”

She turned her phone for the worker to see it. David looked at it carefully, then pointed to the screen. “It looks like you didn’t ask for a specific dog.”

“I didn’t?” she questioned, then looked at her phone more closely, her heart dropping when she saw the blank space beside the ‘requested animal’ inquiry. “Oh, Henry. I’m so sorry. I was in a hurry when I filled it out and I must have missed that question.”

“We have several other dogs,” David consoled. “I’m sure you’ll have just as much fun with one of them.”

“No I won’t,” Henry pouted. “I only want Norman.”

“Henry…” Emma started, but was interrupted when the door behind her opened.

“Good morning, Dave,” said a deep voice with a distinctive British accent.

Emma turned to see the newcomer and nearly swallowed her tongue. The man standing before her had to be a mirage, because surely someone that handsome didn’t really exist. He had a lean physique clad in dark jeans and a maroon henley, with a tantalizing view of chest hair peeking out of the unbuttoned neckline. A black leather jacket completed his ensemble. His chiseled jawline was covered with a pleasing amount of scruff and his dark, windblown hair was falling over his forehead. He sported a wide grin and, between that and his deep blue eyes, Emma was mesmerized.

She was suddenly very aware of her own appearance. Henry’s early game meant she had thrown on a pair of sweatpants, donned an old hoodie and stuffed a beanie over her barely brushed hair that morning. Her face was free of makeup, unless you counted a few stray flecks of mascara that stubbornly refused to come off when she washed her face the previous evening.

“Hey, Killian,” David greeted.

The man’s - Killian’s - eyes had settled on Emma, a glint of curiosity evident in them.

“Oh, um, come on Henry,” she said, after several moments of silence. “Let’s get out of this man’s way.”

“But Mommmm…” he whined.

Emma put her hand on his shoulder and guided him away from the counter. “We’ll figure something out, kid.”

“I’m in no hurry, Miss,” Killian began.

“No, it’s okay,” she hurried to assure him. “I’m afraid I created a problem that might take a while to straighten out, so please, go ahead.”

“In that case, thank you very much,” he smiled. Turning his eyes to David, he asked, “Is Winston ready?”

Emma was surprised to see the genial shelter worker furrow his brow at the other man. “Why do you insist on calling him that?”

Killian shrugged. “He looks like a Winston to me, and he answers to that name when he’s at my house.”

David glanced at Emma and Henry and opened his mouth to say something, but apparently changed his mind. Grabbing a leash off of a hook, he said, “Give me a minute,” then he pushed the door open and disappeared into the back.

“Are you adopting a dog today?” Henry asked Killian.

“Alas, no. I just moved into a small apartment here three months ago and am still trying to get everything organized and put away. Being in a new town has been a bit lonely at times, so I’ve been coming here now and then to borrow a dog for a few hours.”

“That’s why we’re here, but somebody is taking the dog I want,” Henry grumbled.

“Henry, that’s enough,” Emma reprimanded. “You haven’t even looked at any of the other dogs.”

“None of them will be as good as Norman.”

Killian’s brows raised. “Did you say Nor-”

Just then, the door behind the counter opened and David came through, trying to control a very excited dog.

“Norman!” Henry cheered, dropping to his knees. The dog started jumping toward him, wildly licking his face as soon as he reached the boy.

“I thought you said he was already rented today,” Emma questioned David.

“He is,” he replied, looking pointedly at Killian.

Emma followed his gaze and saw the other man watching the interaction between Henry and the dog with a sheepish look on his face. The pieces began to click together and she asked, “Wait a minute - is Norman the dog you’re renting today?”

“Aye,” Killian confirmed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Looks like we’re here for the same dog.”

“But you called him by another name,” Emma continued.

“He’s the dog I’ve rented every time and he just doesn’t seem like a Norman to me, so I started calling him Winston,” Killian explained.

All three adults stood looking at the whirlwind of fur jumping all over Henry, who was giggling so much, he could hardly catch his breath.

Finally, Killian spoke. “It seems as though Win-, I mean, Norman, has made his choice. Please let Henry and…his mother have the dog today, Dave.”

“Emma,” she informed him. “My name is Emma Swan, and you don’t have to do that. You had him reserved first. Besides, Henry needs to learn he can’t always have his way.”

“I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my time with the dog, knowing how sad it would make Henry,” Killian responded. He took a step forward and offered Emma his hand to shake. “I’m Killian Jones, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emma.”

As they shook hands, David cleared his throat. “Um, I have an idea of how to work this out. It’s a nice day, so why don’t all of you take Norman to the dog park together?”

Emma and Killian both whipped their heads around to stare at him. He seemed to shrink back a bit before stammering, “I mean, that way you could all spend time with him and get to know each other at the same time. You’ve been saying you’d like to meet more people in Storybrooke, Killian, and that’s where Henry and Emma live.” Looking at Emma, he added, “I’ve gotten to know Killian pretty well because he sings in the church choir with me and Mary Margaret. He’s a good guy.”

Emma slowly turned her eyes back to the very handsome man whose hand she suddenly realized she was still holding. She dropped it quickly, as she felt a blush heating her cheeks. Then she looked at Henry, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Norman sprawled across his lap. He was looking up at her with hope in his eyes.

Meeting Killian’s gaze once again, she asked, “What do you think?”

“I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position, Emma.”

“You wouldn’t have to go all the way back into Storybrooke,” David said. “There’s a small dog park at the end of the walking path, where a lot of people take dogs they’re thinking of adopting.”

“Please, Mom?” Henry pleaded. “Norman would like that, wouldn’t you, boy?”

Emma took a look at the pair and groaned, “It’s bad enough when you use the puppy dog eyes on me, kid. Now you’ve got the dog doing it, too.”

Killian chuckled lowly, the sound of it making Emma’s stomach flip in a very pleasant way. “I would hate to disappoint the two of them, so I’m game if you are, lass.”

Emma chewed her lip in contemplation for a few seconds, before saying, “Okay, but on one condition - you let me pay half of the rental fee.”

“I already paid the fee online,” Killian said.

“So did I, so I guess that takes care of that.”

“Not really,” David said. “You both paid, but you’re only renting one dog. I should reimburse each of you half of the fee.”

“Keep it,” Emma and Killian answered at the same time, then both laughed.

“The shelter can always use a little extra money, can’t it, Mr. Nolan?” Emma asked.

“Please call me David. And of course we can, if you’re both sure you don’t mind.”

As soon as they affirmed their answer, David walked around the counter and picked up the end of the leash. Handing it to Emma, he said, “In that case, Norman-slash-Winston is yours for the next four hours. You can bring him back sooner, if you like, but I’m sure he’s going to love getting out for a while. Oh, and if you get hungry, there’s usually a couple of food trucks near the dog park on Saturdays. Have fun!”

Emma and Killian thanked him, then went out the door with Norman straining at the leash, and Henry skipping along beside him. They quickly found the sign marking the path and started walking it.

After several paces, Killian turned to Emma and asked, “Is it me, or do you feel like David just set us up?”

“One hundred percent,” Emma laughed.

“How long have you known him?”

“David?” she questioned. At his hum of affirmation, she said, “Henry and I rented Norman three weeks ago and that was the first time I met him. David, I mean, not Norman. Well, it was the first time we met Norman, too. His wife is Henry’s teacher. Again, I mean she’s David’s wife, not Norman’s.” She knew she was rambling, but the thought of spending several hours with the gorgeous stranger was making her nervous.

Killian laughed. “That’s a relief. I borrowed Win-, uh, Norman three times and he never once mentioned being married.”

It was Emma’s turn to laugh - mostly because what he said was funny, but also in relief that he responded to her embarrassing prattling with humor, instead of judgment.

“So, if Dave just met you, he probably doesn’t even know if you’re married or dating anyone. That was a little presumptuous of him.”

“Are you fishing for information, Mr. Jones?” Emma teased.

“Killian will do,” he grinned. “And…perhaps?”

Before she could answer, Henry ran back to join them. “Can I take Norman, Mom? He’s walking really well on the leash, so I don’t think he’ll yank my arm out of the socket.”

She looked at Killian, who raised an eyebrow with a bemused look on his face.

“That’s something I said when we picked Norman up the last time,” she explained. Handing the loop of the leash to Henry, she said, “Don’t get too far ahead of us, kid.”

“We won’t,” he tossed over his shoulder.

Emma turned her attention back to the man beside her. “To answer your non-question Killian, no, I am not married or dating anyone. It’s just Henry and me, and always has been. When I told his father I thought I might be pregnant, he didn’t even stick around long enough to find out if I was or not.”

Killian absorbed this news for a few moments before responding, “If you don’t mind me saying, it sounds as if the two of you might be better off without someone like that, anyway.”

“Oh, definitely. Henry is more mature at eight than his sperm donor was as an adult. I was young and foolish, but I had to grow up fast once I became a single mother.” She watched her son trying to get Norman to walk beside him, then turned to look at Killian. “Sorry, that is a lot more information than I’m sure you wanted to know.”

“No need to apologize, Emma. I did ask, in a roundabout way.”

“So what’s your story? Did you move here from England, or am I misreading your accent?”

“You got it right,” he chuckled, then took a deep breath. “There was nothing left for me in England. My brother moved here soon after our mother died two years ago, and once I found out my girlfriend was actually a married woman, I needed a fresh start.”

“Ouch,” Emma commented.

“Aye, and now I’ve probably shared more than you wanted to know.”

“We’ll call it even, and promise to talk about much lighter subjects for the rest of the day,” Emma said.

“Deal.”

“You said your brother moved here. Does that mean he lives in Storybrooke?”

“Aye, he followed his heart and it led him straight to this quaint little town.”

“Who does he date, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“He’s engaged to the town librarian, Belle French.”

“Liam is your brother? I guess I should have figured that out since your last name is Jones.”

“It’s a very common name, lass. Yes, Liam is my brother. I gather you know him?”

“Belle is one of my best friends, so I know him through her. She used to babysit for Henry quite often, when I was a waitress at Granny’s.”

“Ah, the famous Granny’s Diner!” Killian exclaimed. “I visit that establishment frequently. She makes the best lasagna.”

“I think you meant to say the best grilled cheese and onion rings,” Emma grinned mischieviously.

“I’ve yet to try those particular delicacies,” he smirked.

“Try them,” she advised. “I guarantee you’ll love them.”

Looking ahead, they saw they were nearing the dog park and picked up their pace. They caught up with Henry and Norman just before reaching the entrance. There were about a half-dozen dogs running around the park, some loose and others on leashes.

“I think it would be a good idea for Mr. Jones to take Norman before we go in,” Emma told Henry. “He’ll be able to control him better if he gets too excited.”

“Okay,” Henry said, willingly handing over the leash.

“Thanks, lad,” Killian smiled.

Henry went through the first gate, holding it open for his mom, followed by Killian and Norman. When they were all in the buffer zone, Henry opened the next gate leading into the main part of the park.

“You’re raising quite the gentleman, Emma,” Killian commented, after he entered with the dog.

“He has his moments.”

They all watched Norman as he began sniffing around excitedly, then pulling on the leash when he noticed the other canines sharing his space. He nearly yanked Killian off of his feet with his enthusiasm to meet new friends.

The next twenty minutes were spent chasing the dog and trying to settle him down. After a few of the other owners left with their animals, Henry found a tennis ball and engaged Norman in a game of fetch. The adults sat on a bench to observe the pair, laughing at the clumsiness of the dog.

Emma noticed Killian rubbing his shoulder. “Alright there, Jones?”

“I think he might have pulled my arm out of the socket, Swan,” he quipped.

“Very funny, smart guy,” she said, making him laugh again. They watched for a few more minutes before Emma asked, “Do you have a job in Storybrooke? I started working at the sheriff’s station three months ago and I don’t remember seeing you around town.”

“I’m an architect. I was able to keep my job with the firm in England by working online and attending meetings with clients and my colleagues via Zoom. All of my time is spent in my office at home. It’s not ideal, but I appreciate my boss being willing to make concessions for me.”

“Do you plan to get a job here eventually?”

“Aye, if I decide to stay.”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“I’m used to the hustle and bustle of a big city. Living in Storybrooke has been quite an adjustment.”

“I get that. We moved here from Boston when Henry was two. Granny’s granddaughter, Ruby, was our neighbor there, and when she decided to move back, she talked me into coming with her. At first, I had a hard time getting used to the peace and quiet. That was one reason why I adopted Ernie - just to have a little more noise in the house.”

“Ernie?” Killian questioned.

“Oh, he was our dog. We had him for six years, but he died a couple of months ago.” She pulled her phone out of the pouch of her hoodie and swiped to reveal her lock screen. “This is a picture of Henry with him.”

“Beautiful animal,” Killian commented sincerely, taking in the photo of the brown and white spaniel. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks,” Emma sighed, locking her phone and returning it to the pocket. “Henry grew up with him and he’s had a really hard time with it. Someone suggested renting a pet from the shelter to help him work through it, and that’s how we ended up renting Norman.”

“They seem to really like each other.”

“Yeah, they got along great the first time. That’s why I signed up to get him again, but I was in a hurry when I filled out the form and forgot to ask for a specific dog.”

“Ah, that explains the mix-up,” Killian remarked.

Another half hour passed while they chatted easily, until Henry came over and flopped down on the ground, quickly joined by Norman. “I’m hungry, Mom. Can we get something to eat?”

“Sure, kid. Put Norman back on his leash and we’ll go find those food trucks Mr. Nolan mentioned.”

They soon located the food trucks just down the sidewalk from the park. After discussing their options, they decided to get pulled pork sandwiches from the barbeque place. It was obvious that people who took their pets to the dog park frequented the food trucks, because each one had bowls of water set out in front of them and containers of dog biscuits on their condiment tables.

While they waited for their food, Henry tried to teach Norman to sit, rewarding him with pieces of the biscuits when he obeyed.

“He’s very good with him,” Killian noted.

“He prays for another dog every night, but our schedule is so busy right now. Plus, it’s such a big responsibility and I’m not sure Henry is ready for it. I might be wrong about that though, seeing how he is with Norman.”

After eating, they followed the sidewalk a little further and spotted a playground. Emma and Killian sat on a bench, with Norman sitting between them as they watched Henry play on the equipment.

“You know, we’ve lived in Storybrooke for six years and I never knew this playground existed,” Emma commented. “We don’t come this way very often, because whenever we go out of town, we take the road going south.”

“It appears to be fairly new,” Killian observed. “Perhaps they constructed it when they built those apartments over there, because they don’t look like they’ve been there very long.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. I remember when they were being constructed a couple of years after we moved here, which means they’re less than five years old.”

They lost sight of Henry for a few seconds when he climbed a ladder up into a tower. Suddenly they heard him shout, “Hey, Mom! Look what I found!” and saw him coming down a twisting slide with his arms over his head, clutching a tattered looking soccer ball.

He landed at the bottom and came running over to them. “Someone must have forgotten this at the top of the tower. Wanna kick it around with me?”

“Sure, kid,” Emma answered, hopping up from the bench. “It looks a bit deflated. Are you sure it’s even going to roll?”

“It’ll be fine,” he assured her. Placing it on the ground, he gave it a kick and watched it roll across the grass. “See?”

A black streak flew past him, with Killian following close behind shouting, “Wins-, I mean, Norman! Come back here!”

The dog ignored him, but stopped when he got to the soccer ball. He was trying to pick it up in his mouth when the three humans reached him. Killian was able to kick it away from him, directly to Emma, who stopped it with her foot, then booted it over to Henry. Norman ran from one to the other, in hot pursuit of the elusive ball.

The ‘keep away’ game kept them entertained for a long time. They ran, shouting instructions to each other and laughing until all of them were completely out of breath. Norman was able to intercept some of their passes, but they always managed to get it away from him before he was able to pick it up and run off.

Finally, Emma declared that she had to take a break. Picking up Norman’s leash, she said, “I think we should take him back to the food trucks to get a drink and buy a couple of bottles of water.”

“Aww, Mom,” Henry complained. “I’m not ready to go yet. Can’t I stay here? Killian will stay with me, won’t you, Killian?”

“First of all, you should call him Mr. Jones, and secondly, you’re putting him on the spot, which isn’t cool,” Emma admonished.

Henry looked appropriately chagrined. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jones.”

“Thank you, Henry, but if I may be so bold, I don’t mind you calling me Killian. That is, if it’s okay with your mother.”

Henry looked to his mom, who considered for a few seconds, then gave him a nod of approval.

Killian put his arm across Henry’s shoulders and walked him the short distance to where Emma was standing. “I’d be happy to go get the water, Emma.” He took the end of Norman’s leash from her. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

While he was gone, Emma sat on the bench watching Henry continue to kick the soccer ball around. Killian and Norman returned a few minutes later, handed her a bottle of water and sat down beside her.

“Do I owe you anything for this?” Emma asked, unscrewing the lid.

“Not at all. I think I can afford to buy a lovely lass a bottle of water.”

She refrained from rolling her eyes at his use of the adjective, still rueing the fact she met such a handsome man while looking like she just rolled out of bed. As she was getting ready to take a drink, Henry kicked the ball and sent it sailing over their head, causing Emma to duck and spill some of the water in her lap.

Henry ran over, stopping in front of her. “Oops. Sorry, Mom. I was trying to kick it at the teeter-totter.”

Emma brushed at the water droplets, looking around to locate the teeter-totter, which was at least twenty feet away from the bench. “Not even close, kid.”

Killian stood up. “Perhaps I could give you some pointers, lad. I was a rather good football player when I was younger .”

Henry’s forehead creased in confusion. “I play soccer, not football.”

Killian chuckled as Emma explained, “Killian grew up in England and over there, soccer is called football. They call what we play ‘American football’, don’t they, Killian?”

“Aye, lass. Sorry to confuse you, Henry.”

“Oh, I never knew that. So, how good were you?”

Killian rubbed a finger behind his ear, ducking his head a bit. “I played in a semi-professional league for a couple of years and actually tried out for a professional club, before I decided to go to Uni and become an architect instead.”

“Wow! Cool!” Henry exclaimed. “You probably know even more about soccer than my coach!”

Emma laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he knows a bit more than a volunteer coach for a youth league team.” She took the dog’s leash back from Killian. “Norman and I will sit this lesson out.”

Killian attempted to wink at her. “As you wish, Milady. Come on, lad. We’ve got work to do.”

She smiled fondly, watching the two of them passing the ball back and forth for a while, before pulling out her phone to catch up on her social media apps.

When she looked up a few minutes later, she saw Killian giving Henry instructions for controlling the ball as he dribbled it down the field. Apparently, they were using two trees as the goal and Henry was moving toward them quickly, while trying rather unsuccessfully to keep the ball under control. When he kicked it from quite a distance away, the ball hit one of the trees and ricocheted away.

Killian went to retrieve the ball and took it back to where Henry was waiting. He squatted down in front of the boy and began talking to him, gesturing now and then to different parts of the field.

Henry listened intently, nodding once in a while. When Killian finished speaking, he stood up and did a short demonstration of how to move the ball back and forth from foot to foot. Then he patted the boy’s shoulder, walked the ball further away from the trees and set it down.

Henry lined himself up behind the ball and looked up at Killian. After getting a reassuring smile from him, Henry started dribbling the ball across the ground with shorter, more controlled kicks, while Killian jogged beside him, shouting encouragement. This time, he got the ball much closer to the trees, before giving it a powerful kick that sent it shooting right between them.

Killian whooped as Henry raised his arms in victory, giving a triumphant cheer. What Emma saw happen next put a lump in her throat. Henry flung his arms around Killian’s waist, hugging him tightly, and Killian returned the hug, rubbing his hand over her son’s head as he looked down at him with a proud smile on his face.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

NEW TAG LIST:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4 @hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426 @julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling @andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @zaharadessert @lyssapup27 @undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat @teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90

#pet for rent #jrob64 #csff #CS fluff #CS smut #CS modern AU #captain swan fanfic #art by jrob64 #ouat Captain Swan fanfic #Captain cobra

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whispering-about-the-tmnt · 5 months ago

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Can I get a quick summary of your thoughts/opinions on the 4 shows and the different movies? :3

Personally I'm a big fan of 2012 and Rise, and 2003 is good too but just never landed as much with me but I think I gotta give it another shot tbh. And I respect to 80's show, but not a big fan of cartoons durring that time as a whole.

And I love the 1990 movie, and the 2007 movie has amazing parts but as a whole is just pretty decent, and I absolutely love Mutant Mayhem :3

But it's always great stumbling across another tmnt fan while just scrolling my dash

Ah! Thank you for the ask!

I'll do them in chronological order, and I'm sorry but this is going to be long!

1987 - My first intro to the Turtles, way back when the show first aired! I totally fell into the world of Ninja Turtles back then, and wanted to consume everything having to do with them. I had posters all over my walls, toys, clothing, hats... you name it, I either had it or wanted desperately to get it. I was so into them that my dad bought me the first four (colorized) graphic novels of the original comics, and I still have them to this day. And I still love the cartoon! I accept now that they are kinda silly, but that gives them a certain charm. They were a huge part of my childhood, and when they came out on DVD I introduced my kids to them, as well. Honestly, I am who I am today because I happened to come across the show on a tiny little portable black and white TV while we were camping...

1990 - The first "event movie" I ever experienced! I remember how hyped I got when the first ads came out for it, with the tag line "Hey Dudes, This Is No Cartoon"... and how I told my dad that I wanted to move back to North Carolina (we were living in Massachusetts at the time) because I heard that they were filming it there (we didn't move, of course!). I also distinctly remember how excited I was waiting in line with crowds of people at Showcase Cinemas in Springfield, MA. I saw the movie twice in theaters (the first time I ever did that), and many, many times on tape. When I had kids, we all watched it together on DVD (usually while eating pizza). I love the gritty look and story line; and it was actually interesting to see, for the first time, the "rivalry" between Raph and Leo, which would later become a huge part of the franchise as a whole. In general, the movie represents the Turtles pretty well, though Mike and Don did kind of get pushed to the side (which has also, unfortunately, become a major aspect of the franchise). All-in-all, though, it remains one of my favorite movies ever.

1991 - The second TMNT movie (The Secret Of The Ooze) wasn't bad, in my opinion, but it never had as large a part in my life or psyche as the first movie. It was a bit silly, a bit slow... but it had Ernie Reyes Jr. in it, and I had a HUGE crush on him. In general, it was good, and I liked their new lair in the subway, but it was... just okay. I did love Tokka and Rahzar, though!

1993 - It may seem strange, but even with the costume downgrade and slapstick reliance and a bit of a silly story line, I enjoyed the third movie more than the second! For one thing, Casey was back (and I loved his apparent ancestor, Whit). For another, it was nice to see the Turtles out of their element, but also being accepted by people. There were some nice heroic moments in there, too, like Mikey and Leo saving Yoshi. It also made me wonder if the Turtles would, at some point in the future, go back even further and defeat Norinaga's ancestor, leading to the painting that was shown repeatedly in the movie. Oh, and I totally headcanon Mitsu and Kenshin being Hamato Yoshi's ancestors.

2003 - My favorite of the TV shows! I love how they can be gritty and serious or silly and playful. Their lair is amazing, and they have plenty of friends, but still are separated from humanity. I like the relationships the Turtles have between each other, and also how each of their personalities are distinct and add to the group. There are plenty of standalone episodes, but they all come back around and tie into the series as a whole -- and character arcs like Leonardo's 4th season self-loathing and recovery are the kind of thing I eat right up. All things considered, the series is my gold standard for the franchise, and especially for the Turtles' and Splinter's personalities.

2007 - Visually, it was great! I loved the voice acting and the atmosphere. However, they leaned a bit too hard into the aforementioned Leo & Raph rivalry (although the rooftop fight scene was amazing). I would have liked for Don and Mike to have a larger part in the story (although Don did do his techie thing and figure out what was going on, it was sort of a non-event). I did like the eleventh-hour Karai and Foot team-up with the good guys, though! Unfortunately, I am compelled to mention that Splinter in that movie is... not my favorite.

2012 - Completely honestly, I am an outsider to this series, and all that I know of it I have absorbed through Tumblr Osmosis. That meaning, although I do know a lot about it, I have never actually watched a full episode. It is my 12-year-old daughter's favorite version, however, so on her behalf I will be giving it a thumbs-up 👍🏼

2014 / 2016 - Bundling the two Bayverse movies into one, because I will be honest and say that the line between them blurs for me sometimes (not in a bad way, just like... they flow into one another in my mind). I will admit that I put off watching them for a long time because I disagreed with some of the creative decisions (I'll just leave that there), but when I watched them they turned out to be not as bad as I feared. Their lairs were fitting, and so were their personalities (even if Leo is occasionally a bit my way or the highway). Really, though, I don't have too much to say about them, except that some of the slapstick and more cartoony action tends to draw me out of the moment. Not my favorite TMNT movies, but not horrible. There's potential there.

2018 - ROTTMNT is another series that I haven't actually watched, and which I have gathered most of my knowledge on from Tumblr. However, I did watch the movie and enjoyed it very much! Honestly, the only reason I haven't watched the series yet is because I already have enough TMNT versions bouncing around in my head and I know if I watch it I will want to write fics for it, and I already have enough on my plate for the time being (meaning I will probably get a bunch of my WIPs done, then watch the series!). That having been established, I do like the way the Turtles are different species, and the overall exuberance of the series as a whole is a delight (again, from an outside perspective, but valid regardless!). Splinter's backstory is unique and interesting, and his relationship with his sons is enjoyable!

2019 - Batman Vs. TMNT is, without a doubt, one of my favorite TMNT movies ever! I loved the style, the atmosphere, the fight choreography, the relationships... everything. I also like how it earned that PG-13 rating (violence, swearing... you know... original Mirage Turtle stuff). It was nice how each Turtle got to shine, and how they each got a member of the Batfam to cling to. And Leo's fight with Ra's al Ghul is perhaps my favorite TMNT battle ever. I know it is probably too much to hope for a sequel, but I am nothing if not a cockeyed optimist!

2023 - Mutant Mayhem was fun! It was nice seeing the Turtles portrayed as actual teenagers, complete with gratuitous pop culture references. The animation style was interesting (in a good way!) and the voice acting was spot-on. I loved the soundtrack, too, and I had "What's Going On" stuck in my head for days after I watched the movie! The fact that the Turtles got accepted by humans at the end was nice, even if my preferred version of them is as outcasts; and their relationship with Splinter was believably complicated. I am excited to see how the story continues in TOTTMNT!

Is that all of them? I think that is all of them! Sorry this was so long, but I have a lot of feelings on the subject!

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #ninja turtles #asks #answered #tmnt 2003 #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 1990 #tmnt 1987 #rottmnt #tmnt mm #tmnt mutant mayhem #batman vs tmnt

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pippytmi · 8 months ago

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Hey there! I absolutely loved your Kacy Post Breakup AU stories. I was wondering if you could write "Cop AU where I've been undercover for years" or the one with the ring. It would make my day, but seriously, no pressure at all!

(this is. 100% an excuse for me to write a kacy + fast & furious au)

///////

The first time Kate gets a breakthrough while undercover, it’s in the form of a cryptic text which only reads: meet me at the bar. 2 PM.

Jane Tennant’s bar is the worst-kept secret of the street racing community, and though Kate has been there dozens of times already, being invited is a game-changer. And being invited by Jane Tennant herself? It might as well be a neon sign—Kate is in. This could be the invitation that can crack the whole case wide open.

But with every push, there’s the demanding pull from the universe which demands equilibrium, because when Kate walks into the bar none other than Lucy Tara is the one behind the counter.

Their eyes inevitably meet. Kate tries to smile; Lucy only stares back, expression carefully blank, and Kate’s smile falls.

“Hey, Whistler.” Ernie—Lucy’s best friend—is the only other patron in the bar, and he makes no attempt to hide his obvious surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Tennant asked me to come,” Kate says, uncomfortably placing her hands in her pockets as she walks over. “Is she here?”

“She’s in the back,” Lucy answers for Ernie. “You can wait for her here.” It’s not a suggestion, so Kate slowly takes a seat. Without asking, Lucy pours her a club soda, and Kate accepts it gingerly.

“Thank you,” she says, but Lucy makes no indication that she’s heard, just turns and continues talking to Ernie about whatever they had been discussing before Kate arrived. Kate only catches a few words here and there, something about slashed tires and mangled gear shifts, before she tunes them out and starts scrolling through her phone instead.

That is, until Ernie says, “Wow, you went on an actual date?” and just like that, Kate’s stomach twists into itself. “Let me see. Hello Skylar…” He starts swiping through Lucy’s phone, which Lucy only makes one halfhearted attempt to steal back. “Points for the can’t wait to see you again text. I like that there’s a heart emoji, too. Carla is always saying something about heart emojis and kind auras.”

Lucy shakes her head. “I call bullshit,” she says.

“I might be paraphrasing a little. But you get the point.” Ernie lets Lucy snag her phone back, and she’s laughing as she cradles it to her chest, face alit with such joy that Kate’s stomach twists for a whole new reason.

All Kate can do is drink in the sight of that joy, utterly helpless—helpless to the way Lucy’s eyes crinkle at the corners, the softness of her smile, the genuine mirth that makes her whole body shake when she laughs. Suddenly, Kate wishes her drink was something stronger.

Thankfully, Jane pushes her way into the front from the mysterious back door, and Kate welcomes the chance to redirect her attention. “Thanks for coming on such short notice, Whistler,” Jane says, leaning over the side of the bar next to Lucy. “Can I get you a beer?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine with soda,” Kate declines.

Jane smiles in an unnerving way, like she knows something Kate doesn’t. “I heard about the race yesterday.” She tilts her head towards Ernie and Lucy, effortlessly inviting them to join the conversation. “Ernie wouldn’t stop talking about it, actually.”

“It was glorious,” Ernie says, nodding vigorously towards Kate. “Kai’s still sulking about it, but hey. All’s fair in love and…automobiles…”

Lucy winces. “Oh, you need to workshop that one.”

“I know,” Ernie sighs, dejectedly sipping from his little straw in whatever tropical mixed drink he’s been nursing.

Jane pointedly clears her throat and they both shut up. Kate would be in awe of how Jane commands a room like that under any other circumstances, but then Jane is surveying Kate again, one eyebrow quirked but the rest of her face inscrutable. “I’m not trying to poach you from Curtis, but I do want to make you an offer.”

Kate nearly holds her breath. “What kind of offer?”

“Work for me when you’re not working at Curtis’s,” Jane says simply. “I can always use a fast driver on my team. We make deliveries from time to time—special cases. The pay per run is guaranteed to be more than whatever Curtis is paying you.”

“Deliveries for the bar?” Kate asks, and Tennant gives her that secret smile all over again.

“Among other things,” she says. “Are you in?”

For a single, fleeting moment, Kate glances at Lucy. She doesn’t know what she’s looking for—not even sure what reaction she wants. When Lucy gazes impassively back, though, Kate gets a sinking feeling in her stomach which she can’t possibly rationalize.

“Definitely,” Kate answers at last, trying to feign as much enthusiasm as she can.

Jane doesn't seem to notice the pause. Or at least, she doesn't question it. “You’re family now, Whistler,” she says, sealing the deal with a firm handshake. “Lucy will give you all the details about the next job.”

“Me?” Lucy blurts out, panicked, before she quickly tries again with: “Boss, I’m sure Kai or Jesse could do a much better job.”

“Your shift’s over, isn't it?” Jane asks.

“Yeah…?” Lucy trails off like she isn't sure what the right answer is.

“Then it works out, you're already here,” Jane says. “I’m sure Kate can give you a ride home. You can discuss everything on the way.” There it is again: the unquestionable authority in her voice, the kind that means Lucy doesn’t try to argue.

So that's how Kate and Lucy end up alone—sitting in the flashy red sports car which was previously seized at a crime scene—in complete silence. Kate doesn’t start the car, and Lucy doesn’t ask her to. Through the window, Kate sees Kai and Jesse pull up in a blue pickup truck, but Lucy doesn’t even comment on that.

Kate clears her throat, finally. “If you want one of the guys to take you home, you can go.”

“One of the guys?” Lucy repeats, shakes her head disbelievingly. “Wow. Already jumping right in, aren’t you?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean.” Lucy won’t face her, just keeps her eyes firmly on the window. “This is your dream, huh? All this time, I never guessed.”

“My dream?” For a brief, sickening moment, Kate thinks her cover is blown.

“Oh, come on, Kate.” Finally Lucy whirls around to glare her down, and she’s so openly furious that Kate does a double-take. “You wanted to be part of this team all along. That’s why you walked into the bar the first time, isn’t it? That’s why you kept following me around like a lost puppy?”

Lucy’s words sting, and Kate swallows thickly—hears the anger, but also hears the quiver of Lucy’s voice and knows what it means. “It’s not what you think.”

“People always say that in the movies and it is, it is exactly what they think!” Lucy exhales sharply. “You used me.”

“That’s not what happened,” Kate says desperately. She has an explanation on the tip of her tongue. Hell, she has the entire confession just waiting to explode. That she has been in deep cover in pursuit of Jane Tennant and her team for almost a year—that she met Lucy by accident, and didn't know she was part of said team—that the reason Kate broke up with Lucy at all was because she knew it was the right thing to do, and not because she wanted to. But it would be worse than just self-sabotaging to tell the truth; it could ruin countless lives. So Kate can't say anything.

“How else would you describe it?” Lucy demands. “You’re the one who kept chatting me up, asking about the bar and the races. So what is it you want? Money? Protection?”

“Lucy—”

“No, tell me! Tell me what was worth stringing me along for? What was worth giving me some dumbass excuse to wait for you while you ‘figured things out’?” Lucy’s voice sounds choked now. “Did you figure it out, Kate? Huh? Did you get what you wanted?”

“I want you!” The first sharp prick of tears aren’t a surprise, but Kate still tries not to let them fall. “But I can't—I— “

Lucy’s expression softens, just a tad, like a thought is occurring to her she hasn't considered. “Are you in trouble?”

The question is unexpected, and Kate discreetly wipes at her eyes. “What?”

“You could've told me,” Lucy continues, “if you were in trouble. You didn't have to—” She doesn't finish her thought, but Kate can fill in the blanks. “I could've helped you.”

Kate knows, logically, that the “help” Lucy is referring to would likely be of the not-so-legal kind. But the fact that Lucy is willing to offer it? It makes Kate’s heart hammer in her chest like a lovesick teenager and she just doesn't understand. How on Earth is she supposed to betray Lucy Tara?

“It's complicated,” Kate says at last, which is true. “I can't talk about it.” Also true.

Lucy sighs. “Well, whatever you’re into,” she says. “It’s not going to get back to Jane, is it?”

Kate sucks in a shaky breath. “It won't,” she lies.

“Good. Because I can totally kick your ass if I have to.” Lucy drums her fingertips against the car door like she wants to say something else, but doesn’t. “Can we go now?”

“Yes, of course,” Kate says quickly, starting up the engine. “Do you want to just tell me where to go?” Though she still remembers where Lucy lives, she also doesn't want to be presumptuous and start driving there either.

Lucy seems to begrudgingly accept this turn of events, in any case. She goes through the motions of giving directions, but the entire drive over she still does not broach the specifics of the next job like Jane asked her to.

Kate has the sense not to push. She dutifully parks at Lucy's apartment complex when they arrive and just waits—lets Lucy take the lead on where to go next.

“We're doing a delivery to a warehouse on the south side next Friday,” Lucy finally says. “We go in pairs. I'll pick you up at eight.”

“What kind of delivery?”

“Nothing to worry about,” Lucy says. “Jane won't say it, but this is a test run. No details until she’s sure that you're trustworthy.” She turns to make sure Kate is looking at her, then asks, “Are you?”

Faced with the rawness of Lucy’s voice—of the guarded frown on her mouth—Kate can only nod ever-so-slightly. “You can trust me, Lucy,” she says softly, and wishes more than anything that she could mean it.

She wishes a lot of things, actually. Selfishly, for the chance to reach across the center console and hold Lucy’s hand, press a kiss to her knuckles like she used to, because it would make Lucy smile. (And also make Lucy try to push her luck at every red light back to Kate’s place). But she mostly wishes that she could go back in time and fix everything.

“Then I’ll see you on Friday,” Lucy says. “Are you still crashing in Curtis’s back room?”

“Yeah,” Kate says, thinking wistfully of days where Lucy used to squeeze into the makeshift bed along with her. “Do I have to meet you anywhere, or—”

“I'll pick you up,” Lucy says, but pauses just before she reaches for the door handle. “Is your phone number the same?”

“Since three months ago?”

“Don’t—try to be cute,” Lucy huffs. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

Kate feels the burgeoning twist of a smile try to form, unbidden, and she has to bite it back. “Okay,” she says. “Um, goodnight,” she adds, so as to not say something stupid like I still love you.

“Night,” Lucy mutters, throwing open the door without so much as a glance back.

Kate watches her leave, and only when she is sure Lucy is safely inside does she allow herself to look away, down at her phone where Lucy’s smiling face is still her screensaver. She thinks about it once or twice, but ultimately gives in and calls Curtis. “Hey, it’s me,” she tells his voicemail. “I’m joining Jane’s team for something next Friday. Can you get everyone together tomorrow? I’m going for a drive tonight, don’t wait up for me.”

And she does exactly that: puts her windows down, lets her music blast loud, drives and drives and drives until her fingers are numb against the wheel in an attempt to make her inner turmoil go away.

(It doesn’t).

#this one feels more like an AU setup not quite as angsty as i wanted but! i hope you liked it & thank you for ur kind words <3 #kate x lucy #kacy #ncis hawaii #i need a fic tag #mangeur-detoiles

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performativezippers · 8 months ago

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Hey theeere,

I read that you’re open for questions about writing advice and your advice in the past was always super helpful and I adore your stories, so I was wondering if I may ask you – in longer stories I always struggle to maintain the original vibe and keep character behavior consistent. Do you have any tips for that?

Thank you very much in advance ❤️

Great question! I think this is a really common thing to struggle with, so I encourage others to chime in too.

What works for me is some combination of the following:

--Ensure this is a really an idea for a longer story. Sometimes things go off the rails because it was actually a short idea (e.g. Lucy grappling with Kate's behavior after Cara), and then you have to invent a lot of out-of-character things to keep it going (Lucy keeps screaming at Kate at work), or angst (Kate almost dies), or shenanigans (Ernie and Lucy go on Adventures) that actually have nothing to do with the story you meant to be writing (Lucy processing being unlovable and shunted aside yet again). Those can be fun, but are they keeping you from finishing the story you meant to finish, or are they integral to that story?

--Is the original vibe the right vibe? If you mean to write a story in which Alex and Kara fight horribly about Kara liking Lena, but you decide to open with a sweet sister night (to show the good before it breaks), that opening scene is not going to fit the vibe of the rest of the fic. Which is okay, if you mean that! But if you mean to be writing a sweet sister fic, and accidentally write an angsty sister fic, then yeah the sweet opening is going to be off. It's not that the first chapter has to set the vibe for the rest, but that instead you should know going in what kind of vibe you want, and keep redirecting yourself that way.

--Reread your work. I always always start every writing session by rereading the last two chapters I wrote, and every 3-4 sessions I'll start the whole work from the beginning (less frequently with books which are, you know. Hella long). This keeps me locked into the vibe and voice because I'm continuing from where I left off, rather than starting up again. It also helps me find easter eggs to tie back in later, like I planned them! Which I usually don't because I'm not a planner.

I know a lot of people try to solve this problem with outlining, aka storyboarding, in which you list the goals and character motivations for each scene before you write any of them. This does not work for me because I'm not an outliner, but for books I do this after I've drafted it to help with my revisions, which I love! It's call reverse outlining and it's great. I find that it's too much work for me to do for fics, but of course everyone gets to do whatever they like!

I hope that helps! What else do you all do?

#ask zipps #writing advice #writing fiction #writing fanfiction #writing original fiction

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lil-melody-moon · 2 months ago

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Oh, hello there! 💜 Are we making a tradition out of this, because I'm up for that! Moonie girls gotta support each other!

I like the first photo very much. I remember I had one day where I saw this and thought "This fur is big enough for two" and so I imagined myself under this fur with him, as he would cover me to not let me feel cold 🥹

The second, well, I have a bit of a story with this. There's another one where Keith's dressed like that, he's standing further away from the camera, but either way. My bestie found it, send me it and said "That's how Uncle Ernie would look like if he didn't have a brothel" and now as I look at this pic, I'm gonna add "This is him in the upcoming epilogue to my fic" 😂 @jimmysdragonsuit13 Sometimes you can predict the future, you knew that?

I think I saw the third somewhere, or a similar pic, but even if it's that tiny, I can still see that one button off - plus he has a beard, like 🫠🫠🫠

The fourth and fifth one I have to comment together, because I have a strange weakness to his side profile and while he's cute in the fourth one - his face is perfectly shaped 💜 - the fifth photo is just 🫠 The light is doing most of the work here, but his eyes, nose, hair, cheeks, chin, lips, fucking everything, even those tiny sideburns. He's just perfect!

Thank you for sending me the photos, be sure you'll get some in exchange 💜

#I love this <3 #ask corner

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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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