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love4norris · 5 months

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ೃ༄ extracted from my newest chapter of my lando norris fanfic on wattpad, go check it out! I have the exact same user <3

ೃ༄ summary: where two ex-friends get mistaken as fiancés by her aunt and just decide to go along with it

The interior felt naked, bare of any sense of the upcoming holiday, also know as Christmas. Yet a soft blend of colours originating from the show that Nicholas was watching illuminated the room. Filling the walls surrounding with a comfortable warmth, one that nearly banished the wintry crisp that had taken over the village. Engulfing the miniature part of the Elores's family in the violent arms of Peaky Blinders.

Few candles continued to sway in the minimal air, the very candles that were described as Christmas melted softly and slowly into a wax.

A vanilla made its way to the younger woman, the same way it did when she had first entered her childhood home and that is when she realised that the scent did not belong to a candle but rather her mother, the woman that was so lost in a trance from the bareness of her home that she was yet to ask her daughter what she had intended when she had first entered the room.

"Belle, honey. I'm going to need you to run to the shops for me." Josephine's voice slotted into the room perfectly as though it were a figure skater although the request was an unusual one. She was such a control freak that it was unlikely that she asked her daughter to do something for her, instead doing it herself no matter the circumstances. Jo must of seen the confused look on her daughters face because not even second after placing the request, she was answering the follow-up questions.

"Your father and I have already had something to drink so we can not drive and i've got my first party tomorrow and I don't have anything in for it. And no I can't go tomorrow because I will not have the time no matter when I wake up." The words tumbled out of the woman's mouth, leaving no room for a breath just like she had left no room for any of Belle's responses.

"I'll go get ready and then I'll go." Isabelle responded, her arms slotting next to her sides to give herself the boost she needed to be able to get up and off the sofa.

"You'll take at least two hours to get ready and the shop will be shut by then. You need to leave right now if you are going to make it." Jo's voice was merely an echo due to the distance she had created, going to grab a piece of paper which could only be the shopping list she had prepared.

Deeming it pointless to hold up any more of a fight, Belle pulled on her wrecked uggs before exiting the warmth of her home.

Her eyelashes fluttered against the blow of the wind, the feeling of damp, stray snowflakes landing upon the mascara-less black hairs. They immediately soaked through acting as though lost tears dampening her dry eyes. Her lips felt moments away from being numb despite the little time she had been out of her car, the sight of softly exhaled extra air freezing the minuscule second it conjoined with the surrounding air.

The shop doors slid open upon sensing her closeness, the heated air escaping as though it was being held hostage. A faint sound of Mariah Carey's 'All I want For Christmas In You' playing as background noise for all the fellow shoppers which were few as the night continued on its rampage.

Isabelle took this peaceful time to read over her mothers list, "Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc and red of any kind as long as it's on the top shelf and get multiple bottles of that, I will pay you back. Any kind of beer for your father and some whiskey as a just incase. Baileys would also be useful" She read under her now warmed breath, metaphorically parting herself on the back for successfully understanding her mothers illegible handwriting. Although Josephine was naturally a very neat and organised woman, those desired traits were not wasted upon a pen nor pencil. Instead, she used whatever energy that had not been snatched from her throughout the day and drained it on the innocent peace of paper.

"How much alcohol could ten people need?" Belle questioned no one in particular before setting off on the important mission, her steps taking her re long way around the shop, passing by everything that she desired before ending on the wine aisle. The slabs of white were covered in the dooming liquid, one wrong move or swing of the basket and the area that surrounded would turn into a bloody crime scene.

Filling her lungs with a hit of air, she began the walk of dread, her hands slowly twisting around the bottles before she lead them down one by one on the pieces of metal that provided support. Clinging and clacking began to follow her around, the sounds gripping onto her grinch pyjama bottoms as though they were the presents he was stealing.

A few extra items were added along the way, Isabelle's attempt at calming down her basket however her attempts miserably failed, instead only succeeding in annoying the metal even more. The lingering pain of the handles constantly digging into her upper wrist caused Belle extreme discomfort though she soldiered on, soon making it into her final personal and unnecessary aisle, sweets. The only though that kept her going was that every red mark and bruise would be worth it just to be able to eat some British chocolate, something she had been so heavily deprived of for too long.

"Isabelle?"

#lando norris x you #lando norris angst #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x you #extract

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exquisiteagony · 5 months

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fuck it here’s what i’ve been working on for the past day or so. it’s 2912 words long

Free periods sucked, regardless of whether there was work to be done or not. They called for extra creativity to alleviate boredom, and they were even worse right after lunch, when they were all full enough they didn’t want to think. Half the time, they’d sit around coming up with stupid dares or bets, especially if the day had been dull, too lazy to come up with anything more interesting and less troublesome.

Joel picked at the vinyl covering the flat surface of the table in the rejectory, yawning and staring longingly at his too-hot coffee. He, Joonas, and Niko always had first class as free periods on Wednesdays, but that didn’t mean their parents let them enjoy lie-ins. Instead, all three of them made their ways to their nearest bus stops, yawning and bleary eyed, and tried not to fall asleep before they could get off and stumble past the school gates. Then it was a short zombie-like shuffle to the rejectory, Joel trying hard not to let he brisk cold wind wake him up properly, and five minutes later he’d be seated at a table with the rest of the gang, tearing apart a blueberry muffin as he waited for his coffee to cool to drinking temperatures. Somehow, he was always the last one to arrive.

Tommi was always first. By the time Joel arrived he was always sipping his drink leisurely - protein shake if he had first period free to go to the gym and coffee when it was regular class - patiently helping Olli with some last-minute homework so his maths teacher didn’t direct him to after school detention again.

Niko was always second to arrive. He was the newest to their little group, and therefore he was still a bit self conscious of his place amongst them, so he’d be chewing on a hash brown like he still thought he might be kicked off their table and pointed in the direction of the music students he’d hung out with only a year ago.

Joonas was third. He was always peppy and cheerful in the mornings, like the sun to Joel’s moon, and Joel never knew how to not be jealous of him for it. Joel didn’t know how to not feel guilty over that, too.

But he did guilt and jealousy well, knew how to wear them like a second skin.

Olli made it just minutes before Joel did, always in a rush to get his beloved coffee and crack open a textbook so he could just skate by the deadline of his various assignments. Joel never knew how he managed to get anything done in the constant drone of voices, but then again it took Joel medication to even have the chance of keeping up, so he chose not to think about it.

Joel was last. He liked it that way. The others had their designated seats they liked on their table facing the little terrace, and they always let him have the same seat, one facing the wall instead of facing the rest of the rejectory, so he wasn’t tempted to glance up at the radio booth looming above them, where Aleksi Fucking Kaunisvesi presided like a bored god as he read out school notices.

Once it became clear that the vinyl on the table wasn’t going to budge despite Joel’s best efforts, he sighed, turning his attention to his blueberry muffin.

There hadn’t been any when he’d come in, too late to get anything sweet and halfway decent, but Joonas had swiped one for him as he usually did and had handed it over with a conspiratorial wink. Guilt stirred itself within Joel, so he’d put off picking at it, stomach clenching and unclenching. Joonas was always going out of his way to do such things for him, and each one stacked up like a debt Joel didn’t know how to repay. But now he was hungry, stomach growling because he hadn’t bothered to eat back home, so he couldn’t ignore the muffin any longer. He picked at the top of it, peeling off the little greasy crust studded with chunks of fruit like he was peeling off the seal of a can of pringles but with less violence. Once it was torn free of the rest of the muffin, still encased in a cheerful yellow cupcake case, he poked the individual blueberry chunks out, letting them fall onto the table so he could devour the plain muffin.

He reached for his coffee, but it was still too hot. Dejectedly, he set it down again and carried on picking away at the muffin, drowning out the conversation around him. Tommi was still explaining algebra to Olli, and Joel was determined to not accidentally learn anything.

Niko caught his eye, his smile a little bit shy. Joel returned it, then started picking the visible blueberry chunks out of the remainder of his muffin. Niko reached across the table to take one, slipping it into his mouth. Joel let him, then reached across to Niko’s plate to swipe a leftover crumb of his hash browns. Then he went back to his methodical muffin demolition.

He was about halfway through his task when Joonas let out the vilest burp from across the table, next to Niko. It was loud enough that a couple of people on the table next to them turned round in disgust, but Joonas looked more proud of himself than anything. Joel screwed his face up and flicked a soggy chunk of blueberry at him.

Once he’d excavated the whole muffin, leaving blueberries in one wet pile and plain muffin in another dryer one, he began to eat the blueberries one by one. It wasn’t a particularly interesting task, but it passed the time amply enough as he waited for his coffee to cool down, and that was about as much as he could hope for.

The school’s PA system crackled to life not a minute later. Joel glanced at the clock on the wall as Olli swore and began to pack his textbooks and pencil case away. 8:55 AM. Olli had five minutes to get to his maths class.

Olli was serenaded by the rush of other students in similar predicaments and the cheesy jingle of Oulu High Radio. Tommi was more leisurely, simply passing Olli the pen he’d forgotten to pack away before he picked up his rucksack, standing. Joel grimaced, but that was more directed at the PA than it was by them.

The new school year had brought many things, but the biggest change had been the announcement that Oulu High School was combining with Oulu College, the high school aimed at setting its students on the high road to world-rated universities so they could be snobby assholes in worldwide leadership positions. Something about structural damage or frailties to the old college building across the city meaning the academy full of chronic overachievers had to find another location, and Oulu High had the space to accommodate them and the excuse they’d been waiting for to upgrade the science department and the sports building. They even had a swimming pool now, though Joel had aged out of mandatory swimming classes so he’d never used it.

Most of the differences were relatively small. Slightly bigger classes, and less empty classrooms. New teachers who were used to bright-eyed nerds, not disinterested class clowns. A phased lunchtime complete with an extra half hour so those on last lunch didn’t have to miss out on a post-lunch break. A better library that Joel avoided like the plague. The renaming of the cafeteria to the refectory, a change that had had Joonas snort and promptly christen it the ‘rejectory’. That sort of thing.

And a radio station.

Thing was, Joel had tried out for it. Since his basketball dreams had gone down the toilet he’d found himself with more free time, and as his mom had told him, it would look good on his university application.

How she hadn’t lost faith in that dream despite his best efforts, he didn’t know. Music and gym class produced the best grades, but even a music course would be unwilling to take anyone with grades like his. They preferred their students to be more rounded.

Still, he’d tried anyway, and found he actually wanted to do it. He could do it, he was sure, and hey, if his music career followed his basketball one then he’d have something to fall back on. So he’d gathered in the principal's office with twenty or so other hopefuls, reading out notices about the various sports teams and the chess club - something else that was new - into an unplugged mic.

He’d wanted it, but in the end, he hadn’t got it. No one had. The whole thing had been the idea of Aleksi Kaunisvesi - the snooty kid from the college whose dad was some kinda bigwig in the music industry. The tryout had been just for show, and now the whole school was forced to listen to Aleksi’s lofty voice every morning and lunchtime, reading out various notices as if he thought he was above it all.

It’s probably to pad out his university application, Joonas had said when Joel announced his loss with gritted teeth.

As if he needs it, Tommi had snorted. He’s the captain of the debate society, and he’s a prefect.

Don’t forget the school council, Niko had added glumly. He’d tried out for that, curious, but Kaunisvesi had snatched the last spot.

Bet his dad bribed the school, Joonas said, unnaturally acerbic for once.

Does he need to? Olli asked. Aleksi is the eldest of six. That’s the promise of a lot of school fees.

Sure enough, Aleksi’s snooty tones began reading out notices. Joel felt his breakfast turn to stone in his stomach.

Niko saw the look on his face and shot him a rueful smile. Joonas pulled a face like he was constipated and echoed Aleksi’s reminder about the importance of punctuality in a near-perfect imitation. It buoyed Joel’s mood a little, and a smile tugged at the corners of his own mouth.

It died with the arrival of two more students at the rejectory’s food station, always under the hawk eye of a dinner lady.

Aleksi, you see, was pretty much untouchable. He had no friends, as far as Joel could tell, and he was the perfect little teacher’s pet, but he was never harassed or picked on. He just skated on with his head firmly lodged up the principal’s ass, and everyone seemed resigned to the fact.

Apart from in Joel’s lit class. Then he was constantly going head to head with Robin Packalen, another former College student who headed the book club. They always seemed to arrive early, sat at the front of the classroom so Joel would always have to squeeze by them as the late bell chimed, trying to ignore whatever topic was the flavour of the week. The arguments were always fraught with underlying tension, and Joel got the feeling like they weren’t really arguing about Milton or Shakespeare or whatever. It made watching the arguments feel painfully voyeuristic, and Joel found himself idly sympathising with their poor teacher as she waited to begin the class.

With a jolt, Joel realised that he’d seen Robin at the radio tryouts. His stomach twisted. Yeah, there was something between him and Aleksi.

Right now, though, Robin was calm and collected as he selected a water bottle from the refrigerated cabinet. With him was his boyfriend, Joonas Parkkonen - or Johnny, to his friends and pretty much everyone apart from Aleksi. Johnny was in Joel’s gym class, and he seemed to live and breathe for the sports department. He was the head of the hockey team and the basketball team, something that made Joel so jealous he felt sick, and he had started a little tennis club.

He was, of course, from the College, not Oulu High.

Not that Oulu High was bad or anything. It was fine. Average. Comfortably so, to the point where Joel hadn’t ever felt especially self conscious about his subpar grades. But then the amalgamation happened, and Joel hated it all.

Niko followed his gaze. “Good luck with that,” he said, clapping Joel across the shoulder. Joel flicked a blueberry at him then went back to sourly ogling Robin and Johnny.

The pair chose a table for two fairly near the food station. Neither of them must have a class first period, which was a weird thought. Robin was the exact sort of nerd Joel thought lived in the library, and Johnny seemed like he should be in the gym, not sipping an apparently expensive protein shake from his water bottle as he waited for Robin to eat his apple.

Something tepid and soggy landed on Joel’s hand, drawing him from his reverie. He turned and scowled at Joonas, then licked up the bit of blueberry. The sweetness exploded on his tongue, and he washed it down with his coffee, finally drinkable.

“Johnny’s in my gym class,” he said eventually. “I don’t want to go against him in track again.” He’d lost, and badly, and it was like all the individual failures of his sports ability had come together to snowball into one big neon sign, blinking failure at him.

“And you’ve got your front row seat to the Aleksi-Robin wars in lit,” Joonas said lightly. Niko shrugged like it didn’t matter. But he only had art class with Robin, and he seemed to outshine him. He wasn’t in Joel’s lost and bewildered shoes.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Joel grumbled. On the PA, Aleksi read out a notice about last night’s rain waterlogging the grass too badly for the evening’s football practice to go ahead. A couple of boos sounded out from the other side of the rejectory, and then Aleksi told them all that that was all. The trite jingle rang out, and then afterwards clanged the school bell. Nine AM, and class was beginning. Joel sighed.

Silence reigned for a few minutes. Joonas was staring out of the window, fiddling with the keyring on his rucksack, and Niko was still trying to skin the surface of the table. Joel sipped his coffee and ate the individual bits of his muffin before he decided that enough was enough and tipped the final remnants into his coffee dregs. He stole Tommi’s abandoned plastic spoon to mix the muffin and coffee into a sludgy mess, fighting the urge to yawn.

“What if we gave it a go?” Joonas said abruptly not long later.

Joel jumped, meeting Niko’s eye. He’d been enjoying the quiet. It felt like the calm before the storm of lit class, where he’d be doodling on his desk and staring glumly ahead as Robin and Aleksi snipped and sniped at each other in the bored tones of know-it-alls. “You what?” he grunted. Opposite him, Niko stopped his peeling.

Joonas gave the room a once over before leaning in, eyes feverish with something that looked horrible like gope. “Give Kaunisvesi a run for his money.”

Niko screwed his face up in confusion to match Joel’s. “You want to start a pirate radio station, even though Järvy’s got such a stick up his ass he’d suspend us on the spot for it?” Principal Järvinen had always been a hardass, like he would much rather run a military operation than a school, but since the amalgamation he’d become fanatical. Joel had spent the semester so far barely avoiding detention, if only to keep up the thinnest veneer of his mother’s hopes for him. Her hope was based on a foundation as fragile as the first hints of winter ice on a lake, and suspension would destroy her wistful thinking like a misplaced football. Joel really didn’t want to do that to her.

Joonas screwed his face up in thought for a few moments. “We can have nicknames and use a voice modulator or something,” he said. “And we can do it from my dad’s old warehouse, so we’re not disturbing our families or whatever.”

Niko caught Joel’s eye for the second time in fifteen minutes, cautious amusement on his face. Joel knew what he was thinking. This is a dumb idea. This is just a fantasy that Joonas will forget by lunchtime. It’s not going to happen.

Except Joel realised he did want it. Oulu High Radio had been a glittering, tantalising thing, even if it had always been empty, and Joel had wanted it, like he never usually wanted any such extracurricular activity. This could be real, and it would be fun, even if it didn’t last. “Let’s speak to Tommi and Olli about it before we do anything,” he said. “But we could give it a go.”

Traitor, Niko mouthed, but there was no heat to it. Joel shrugged. He wasn’t sorry.

Joonas kicked him under the table to get his attention and beamed. “It’ll be fine. It’ll be more than fine,” he said. “Everyone thinks Aleksi’s a twat anyway, so we’ll do so well!”

His enthusiasm proved to be infectious. Niko cracked a smile, and Joel found himself almost giddy at the prospect.

And, he reflected as Joonas changed the subject to the fact that his sister had detention for being caught with her boyfriend in a cleaning supplies closet by an unimpressed janitor, if it all goes to shit, at least it won’t be my fault.

#i speak!#wip #extract #blind channel fanfiction #fun fact! my college (uk college not uni) called the cafeteria the refectory #and one our first day the girl i sat next to in psychology named it the rejectory #there was also a seating area three times bigger next to the theatre called the spotlight. so of course we called it the spotshite

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