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angsthology · 4 months

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“i am on work trip vacation” — or an alt title: what happens when a group of f1 drivers go on a getaway together

a houseboat sounds like a great idea! ...right?

a/n HELLAUR this was mostly inspired by that one mofy episode “lake life” which to me is very underrated i love that episode SO much. anyway here it is it kinda ended up not how i wanted it to be in the first place but oh well :)

THE KANGAROO(KIE) VS. THE WORLD

to be perfectly honest, no one really remembered whose idea it was for them to do this. theoretically, it did sound like a good idea until someone else had the amazing idea:

“what if we rented a houseboat… for all of us…”

the group blinked at the suggestion.

roo, who had been standing next to lando mumbled to him lowly, “are we that close?”

the question made the two turns to each other for eye contact, when their eyes met, lando shrugged.

their attentions were brought away when max spoke up from his seat.

“yeah, but who is paying?”

the group turned to look at each other before agreeing through eye contact and all turn to the dutch driver.

“what? why? this isn’t even my idea!”

“yeah, but…” the group turned to the first porsche driver, “you keep winning…”

he threw his hands in the air, “what?! what does that have to do with anything?”

“you make the most money…” lando answered for her, the words slowly forming in his mouth, “you bought a whole aircraft, a boat won’t hurt your wallet.”

in response, he got a look from the redbull driver.

the woman next to him walked forward, “how about this; you’ve ruled the land, the asphalt if you must; you’ve also had your reign in the air, isn’t it time for you to have something to dominate the seas…?” she carefully propositioned, eyes searching the unreadable dutch looking for any sort of answer.

until eventually, his eyes lit up looking her way, “you’re a genius!” he exclaimed.

“i know, thanks.” she smugly smiled at his reaction.

shortly after, the man speedily walked off somewhere else leaving her with the rest of the grid.

she huffed with a smile playing at her lips, “men are so easy.”

fast forward to where they are now; lando trying to figure out the concept of charles’ attempt at eggs, the latter suspected to be on some kind of edible (currently being silently investigated by george and alex), lance passed out on the couch in an interesting position with his blanket over his face to shield it from the sun, the rest out on deck or still asleep in their rooms.

just as lando did another poke of his… egg? roo walked down the steps from where all the rooms were, eyes still lidded with sleep, hands stretching with a yawn.

“mornin’.” she greeted, the rest present in the room strung along good mornings as such.

walking over to the smell of burning, she felt the ground tilt to the side, making her lose her balance following where the dip goes. the rest in the room too fully woke up at the tilt—a large horn following. lance, emerging from his blanket and sitting half up grumpily, lando quickly grabbing his plate of eggs to stop it from falling off the counter (though, he regretted doing so, he would much rather the eggs get eaten by the floor rather himself.)

the aston martin driver on the couch then snatched the walkie-talkie on the coffee table next to him and barked into it, “VERSTAPPEN!”

max, happily conducting in his captain’s deck, apologized through the walkie sheepishly, “ehe—sorry.”

from out on the deck, came the sound of the french, “honey, slow down, you are waking up the kids.” just as he put the walkie-talkie back on the table next to him, pierre heard the response coming from the same channel,

“gasly, i will throw you overboard.”

just as he grumbled that, the second haas driver stumbled down the stairs, face still a little sleepy (naturally).

“someone’s grumpy this morning.” he commented before taking a seat next to alex on the dining table behind the counter where lando hastily stared at a piece of his egg.

“fuck off.” he grumbled before covering his face with his blanket once more.

george, sat across of mick, stared at his co-worker still drifting off on the table, “‘horn wake you?”

“no, radio.” he mumbled.

the girl finally went back to walking over to the ferrari driver in the kitchen.

“what’s cookin’, mcqueen?” she greeted.

he looked back to her smiling then continuing his focus on the pan, “eggs!”

the woman looked towards the brit with a plate on the counter, raising her brows for confirmation. in response, he frowned with his eyes closed, shaking his head.

at that, she walked over to the fridge and grabbed the carton of orange juice, pouring it into a cup before walking over to where lando sat and hauled herself up into the stool.

“here goes nothing.” she heard the whisper from the side, looking over to see lando carefully putting the piece of egg in his mouth with his eyes closed.

she cringed when she heard a crunch coming from his bite.

“i think that was a shell…” he cried.

the girl beside him frowned and pat his back just as carlos walked down the stairs, behind him two large dogs followed.

she gasped at the sight, “good morning, babies,” she greeted sweetly, crouching down to pet the two dogs.

passing by, carlos smiled, “good morning, sweetheart.”

roo gave him a side-eye as he passed, snickering, she said, “sure.” her expression then turning to one of adoration when she pat her dogs once more.

her attention moved when charles greeted his teammate, “good morning, calos, how do you take your eggs?”

“like god made them,” he said before cracking an egg and pouring them straight into his mouth.

everyone turned to him in shock and disgust, roo herself shrieked at the sight.

“what the hell is wrong with you?!” she yelped in disgust.

charles, face straight, “oh, right, i forgot about that.”

from the dining table, george questioned, “you do that every day? i just do it when i have a nasty hangover…”

carlos looked at him and paused, nodding before answering, “yes.”

roo then laughed smugly into her glass.

“what are you laughin’ at sally?” asked the spaniard.

“i don’t get hangovers.” she bragged, hand reaching over to the bowl of fruit in front of her. her smug face dropped when she held the too-light banana, “what the fuck? are these fucking plastic?!”

charles then turn around and grimaced seeing the look on her face, “oh, yeah, forgot to tell you.” he the paused, contemplating on what he says next, “if you see a bite mark on the apple… no you don’t.”

george then intruded, “wait, wait. i want to go back to how you don’t get hangovers…”

“yeah—how does that even work?” alex asked next.

she shrugged, “well… how it works is that… i don’t drink. —besides champagne that is,” she added with a smile.

“wait what—”

she clapped her hands together, “conversation’s over, i’m going to take my kids for a walk—lando, stop trying to feed them your eggs they only eat things that are edible.”

the ‘cook’ turned around fully offended, “hey!”

“so…”

“please don’t try to make conversation. it’s bad enough you’re here.” again, it wasn’t like she was trying to be rude, but it often came out like that. —she really did hope lando didn’t take it like that.

he scoffed, “oh, come off it, you love me.” he said, while throwing a hand over her shoulder.

the four—lando, roo, bennie, and jet, that is—were currently wandering around the island their boat had docked to. so far on their walk there hasn’t been anything interesting in the island besides the occasional inhabitants of the island (ones that are only visible to the woman anyway).

suddenly, lando let go of her shoulder and went to check his pockets, “oh, right, that reminds me; these has been weighing my pants—”

her attention unmoving, she cut him off, “that or you need a belt.”

he rolled his eyes and continued, “whatever, can you hold this in your pocket.”

finally, that brought her out of her trance, “oh wait—”

she turned around to warn him but it was too late, lando had dropped the item in the pocket hole of her pants only to see it fall to the ground instead.

“wait what—” he grabbed the item off the floor and tried to put it back in her pocket, seeing if he had missed it before only to see it fall to the ground through it again. “what the hell?” without warning, lando put his hand in her pocket all the way through and low and behold; his hand had went through it and peaked out of the bottom of her pants.

he stared at her in confusion.

“yeah, i was going to tell you: my pockets have holes in them.”

“well, no shit, i can fit my entire hand through this—hell, i can even fit both.” he asserted almost going high-pitched. his eyes then changed, visibly remembering a detail she mentioned, “wait—pockets? as in both?”

she rolled her eyes, “yes, drama queen. now can you get your hand out of my pants, do you know how weird this looks?”

“oh, yeah, to who? the wind?” he stated sarcastically as he pulled his hand out of her pocket—if it can still be called that.

the girl was about to answer but her eyes caught something that made her eyes almost pop out of their socket. her hand immediately takes a hold of lando’s upper arm.

“ow!”

ignoring his complains, her eyes still trained on whatever it is she saw and started pulling on his arm.

the brit was still busy complaining on how hard her hand’s grip on his arm was to look up but he still managed to answer, “what?!”

“i think—i think we should uh—go back to shore, y’know, it’s almost lunch, they could be looking for us.”

“no it’s not, it’s only like—” he checks his watch, “—eleven am.” he continues to complain.

but when he couldn’t feel as much pain as before he looked up to see his friend already gone along with the two dogs. he threw his hands in the air, “wha— damn it, roo!”

when he made it back to the beach, she was nowhere to be found, instead he was met with the rottie instead, “oh, hey, bennie, where’s your mum, huh?” he crouched down to give the dog a scratch behind his ear, bennie barked in response.

he—the dog—then turned around and walked over to the side where a white and minty-green volleyball laid, piquing an interest from lando.

when he walked over and grabbed the ball, he heard a call from the other side of the beach.

“oi! you wanna join us for a game?” danny yelled with his hands cupped around his mouth.

without another thought, lando stood up and ran over to the group and joined them. surprisingly enough when he looked to his left, there his friend stood after ditching him in the woods.

he threw his hands in the air when he saw her, “here you are! what the hell was that earlier?”

opting for the easy way out, she replied, “saw something you can’t, you don’t want to know.”

lando—who she knew would steer clear of any further topics involving her abilities—accepted the answer quickly and went back to focusing on the upcoming game.

“so, what’s the game here?” asked the brit.

“it was gonna be two on two but since you’re here i guess, three it is. whose team do you want to be in?”

lando then mulled over his options, go with daniel and mick against roo and zhou or… the other way around. then he remembered just how strong the girl was—he got flashbacks from various sports he had played against her and ones he saw her play, he wasn’t risking it.

“i think i’m gonna stay here, what about you, though? you need one more player?”

the australian looked around until his eyes landed on the rottweiler, a grin made its way to his face, “bennie! c’mere boy!”

when the rottie obliged, roo’s jaw dropped in betrayal.

“first mick! now you too? betrayed by my own boys…”

the german shrugged.

after that, the game went on for a good few minutes. along the lines of those minutes the following had happened;

“what the hell, dan?!”

said man had done an overhand serve with the ball, accidentally aiming it straight where the woman was hitting her upper chest—luckily enough she had managed to save it. but, still, she was a little bit offended.

he couldn’t help but laugh at his own actions—which he swore he didn’t mean to do.

still laughing (all the while the game was still going on), he continues to apologize through it, “i am so sorry karen smith, i swear, it was an accident.”

after that little incident, the girl made it her number one mission to find the right timing for payback.

when she did, she gave it her all into passing that ball hitting it towards the australian’s lower region.

unfortunately for her and luckily for him, he dodged just in time letting it hit the sand instead—unfortunately giving her team a point.

daniel and mick’s eyes were still trained where the ball had landed, seeing how harshly it hit the ground—daniel looked at it more with relief than he’d like to admit.

he turned around from the ball to look at her with ‘offense’, “dude!” he threw his hands up.

without wasting another breath, she pointed at him threateningly, “you hit my boobs! —i target you.”

in return, daniel raised both his hands in surrender and walked backwards to grab the ball and resume the game.

an hour or two later the game finished with daniel and mick on the losing team, leaving the other three in a high.

after high fiving both her teammates, the girl embraced the two men in purpose of gloating, she made sure to say audibly, “so, how did it feel like scoring your first win, boys?” she asked the two, though her eyes stayed on the two opposing teammates.

zhou smiled happily, seemingly glad that he could just participate at all, “feels pretty good, i must say.”

although lando wasn’t quite impressed by her question, “man, shut the fuck up.” he said, slipping out of her embrace to make his way over to the dock with the other five following behind.

“that’s not fair, you play aggressive.” daniel complained half-jokingly.

she was taken aback, “no i wasn’t, are you sure?”

knowing her, he knew her words were genuine(ly confused).

he wrapped his hand and smiled down at her cheekily, muttering lowly, “you don’t know your own strength.”

when they arrived on the boat, the first thing she saw the moment she stepped on the last step up was pierre, still calmly perched on his sun lounger with only his sunglasses protecting him.

the girl stared at him with questioning eyes, “have you moved? like, at all?”

“non.”

she all but shrugged, leaving him to burn under the sun.

when she entered the kitchen slash dining room slash living room, she was greeted with the hypnotizing smell of the food that filled the table—well, what was left of the food.

just as she was walking around said table, she heard the tapping of paws against the wooden floor and before she knew it, she was tackled by the doberman happily greeting her.

“hey, sweetheart, where have you been?” she scratched the dog’s head happily accepting her affection then suddenly being approached by a smaller collie she weren’t too familiar with, “and you… brought a friend?” she carefully stretched her hand out to pet the mystery puppy, “and who do you belong to buddy?”

“mine, actually.” the blonde thai entered the room with a water bottle in his hand. “his name’s otter, or, otto.”

“awh,” she pouted at the information before looking down at the puppy once again, “i love you.” she unhesitatingly hugs the puppy who then wags his tail with even more energy.

alex was about to comment but she beat him to it, “hey, what happened to everyone?”

“uhh—i think esteban took lance out on a boat,”

“i didn’t know ocon was capable of that.”

“not every two-people getaway is in the purpose of murder.”

“sure, tell yourself that.”

“whatever; charles is terrorizing yuki somewhere and carlos went to the bait shop in the island with george.”

“bait shop? is that a bar? there’s a bar here?”

“no– just a normal bait shop… for… fishing… you do know?”

“yes.”

“oh, hey, that reminds me; i’ve been meaning to ask, why didn’t fernando agree to this, again? i would assume he would jump at the chance at the first mention of lake.”

the alpine driver was currently calmly lounging on his chair doing whatever it is people his age does when suddenly two of the younger drivers on the grid appeared behind him.

he paused whatever he was doing when he felt the presence of two demons giggling behind him, he turned around quickly with a flat expression.

“what do you two want?”

they only giggled when he look at them dead in the eyes, earning raised brows expectantly from him.

the man heard whispers of “you say it”, “no you say it” bounced back and forth from the two.

“just say it.” he ordered the moment they got on his last nerve. (well, they were already on his last nerve the moment they arrived but now it was in the negatives.)

the british of the two decided to be the one to start, “we just wondered why… how—”

“we were just wondering why you haven’t turned to dust under the sun.” she cut him off.

now giggling again, lando continued, “it’s just we’re worried, this lake trip is going to have a lot of sun exposure.”

“we still like you, nan.” she finished, both of them continuing their giggling spree.

“you know what, that’s it.” he stood up from his chair, no longer feeling the relaxing peace and quiet he did before, “just like that, i’m not going. you kids are driving me crazy and i need this break.”

their faces dropped at the sudden ‘outburst’, both of them scurrying behind him to beg and plead for his mercy.

“uhh—he already had other plans.” she paused, then looking over him, “and what are you doing here?”

“trying to find a frisbee for the three of us.”

she tilted her head in question.

“me, otto, and… jet.”

“oh. alright, go nuts.” she then stands up from the ground, popping her head out the window that goes out to the deck, “mick, lan, dan, zhou, any of you eaten anything yet?”

she got a chorus of no’s and not yet’s in response.

“i—you are seeing this, correct?”

“looking at the same thing as you are.”

after a good lunch break with the four men, they all had went their separate ways to spend the afternoon and after a lot of exploring, roo found her way back to the deck where the alphatauri driver is still lounging. though now he is fast asleep, —and sunburnt.

she didn’t say anything else opting for nodding her head and slowly moving to the sun lounger beside her—vision directly facing the burnt french.

seeing as she was no longer standing next to him, he crouched down, “what are you thinking about, cariño?”

she shrugged, “nothing… just going to relax here.”

safe to say he did not trust her answer, he squinted as he stood back up.

the spaniard crossed his arms, “can i trust you…”

at that, the woman looks up craning her neck, she then pulls down her sunglasses to bat her eyelashes at him with a sweet smile.

he couldn’t help but reciprocate her energy. with one last smile, he turned around, and by chance he was met with lance who were just passing by. he grabbed the aston martin driver and whispered warningly—all the ‘sweetness’ from his previous encounter dropped, “that is a smile of a con-woman. do not trust her, watch her.”

before lance could even react, carlos was already long gone.

something bad had happened. he left for ten good minutes and he already heard the french-accented sound of agony coming from the deck.

next thing he knew, he was already there with the rest of the drivers all crowded there too to witness what just happened—arriving just in time for the sound of splashing on the side of the boat could be heard.

roo was already there with her hands on the side of the boat, looking down at the man overboard.

all the drivers followed where she was and where her eyes were brightly looking at with a cackle, squished together to all stand along the boat railings to see the emerging alphatauri driver from under the waters.

the girl, still laughing her ass off was getting cursed out in french, even hearing her full name coming out of her mouth.

carlos immediately snapped his head towards her direction, “what did you do?!”

she was still far too busy laughing, leaving the frenchman to answer angrily for her, “espèce de connard!” he cursed at her, “she fucking slapped my sunburn!”

that statement itself had made lando spilt a single cackle, zhou and mick covering their mouth in self-control after imagining pierre’s words.

said man give the three a large glare that didn’t really change their state.

the spaniard then turned to lance with eyes wide, “i told you to watch her!”

“i’m not her babysitter!” he defended, “—lando is! i gave him a fifty-dollar bill to do it!” he continued his defense. (which quite frankly didn’t help him much.)

“so you gave a child a job to watch another child?!” carlos fumed.

“i— well you got me there.” the canadian shrugged and let go of it.

lando, hearing his name, quickly chimed in with offense lacing his tone, “hey! in my defense; i handed the job over to charles!”

everyone then turned to the resident monégasque. he threw his hands in defense, when he spoke his tone a lot less defense-y more reasoning, “what? i am on vacation, i’m not babysitting!”

of all this happening, they all failed to notice the angry frenchman emerging from the stairs—skin red and dripping with lake water.

his wet steps walked slowly towards the culprit—the war criminal in a diy ripped clothing, “count your days.” he threatened lowly, accent thicker than usual, before walking inside the houseboat funnily, body still aching from his ‘little’ predicament.

te1enoviyuh 🎵 Pitbull, Marc Anthony • Rain Over Me (feat. Marc Anthony)

liked by awstenknight, f1, and 6,835,736 others

tagged: carlossainz55

te1enoviyuh D.O.G. — drivers only getaway

two notes for this one:

pierregasly i am... sorry, truly

@ all of u, youve all behaved accordingly so i gift u this picture he took when my phone went missing apparently

see all 2,836 comments.

selvnika oh this gave me a whiplash actually

dunphyrrari selvnika ure so right for this queen

thesainzist HELLO

thesainzist GOOD MORNINGGG SAILOR

thesainzist i thank u for ur service u are a god 🙏🏼

pierregasly die

siriuslyricciardo pierregasly NAHH I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED ON THAT BOAT

backbiteroo pierregasly tea is BOILING

te1enoviyuh backbiteroo his skin actually

pierregasly te1enoviyuh PÉRIR

mclarenovia watch them be super cryptic about this whole getaway

sixteenparx awsten at the scene of the crime once again 📸

awstenknight sixteenparx CAN YOU JUST LET ME LIVE

sixteenparx awstenknight no

aepsainz YARG

aepsainz on behalf of chillination we thank you and owe you for your service we will never forget this 💪🏿

sebastianvettel Have fun!

liked by te1enoviyuh

taglist; @treehouse-mouse @disneyprincemuke @yansbolobao @leilanixx @judespoision @vellicora @bborra lemme know if u wanna be added <3

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cwritesforfun · 2 months

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Regina George x Fem!Reader: Overnight Field Trip

Y/N = Your Name Your best friend = Sam

Your POV

You lean your head against the window of the bus with your headphones on and press play on your playlist. Your best friend, Sam, slides into the seat next to you passing you your favorite candy.

You get off to go pee and then look for a snack. Regina George is standing at the end of the aisle. Regina is new to your school after getting kicked out of her last one because she was the bully. You've only spoken to her once or twice because you share a few classes. She seems nice and she's really hot.

As you walk past Regina with your favorite snack, Regina calls after you, "Hey uh Y/N!" You turn around and say, "Yeah Regina, what's up?" She asks, "What's a good snack?" You answer, "Me." She smiles widely and says, "I think you're a full meal, baby." Flirty, you like that. You smile and say, "Touché Regina and the classic cheese squares are a good second option." She nods.

Back on the bus, you slide into your seat with your best friend. Regina walks past you and winks at you. Hot. Sam asks, "What was that?" You answer, "Just a friendly wink, why?" Sam answers, "Uh because she was kicked out for being a bully and she winked at you. I don't want you to get hurt." You answer, "I won't, but thanks for thinking of me." :)

You finally arrive at some lodge where you'll be staying with your English class for a few days. You'll be in the city to visit museums, explore, and see a play. It should be fun.

You wait for your English teacher to return and when she does, she announces that she's placing the room list up. She chose who we'll room with and we'll share with 3 people. You & Sam wait and finally, you get to the front. You're sharing with Sam, Regina, and Sam's crush, Casey. You & Sam walk off to find the other two. Casey walks up happily and Regina finds you soon after. You 4 head up to the room.

You're the first one in and you toss your stuff onto one side of one of the beds claiming it. Regina tosses her stuff on the other side of the same bed. You couldn't be happier. Hopefully, Sam is cool with sharing with Casey. You all change for a walk in the area and dinner then head downstairs. Sam is in an animated conversation with Casey right now. Regina asks, "Is it okay if I hang out with you tonight? I don't really have many friends at this school yet." You answer, "Of course you can. It seems Sam is going to be attached to Casey the next few days anyway." Regina asks, "Yeah, what's the deal with that? They seem really close, but she's your best friend, right? Why is she ditching you?" You whisper in her ear, "Don't tell, but she's her crush." Regina gasps and says, "No way, that's cute." I laugh.

You walk next to Regina on the guided walk. You both point out cool sights on the walk to each other and it's fun. Regina is nice to be around.

When we're sitting for dinner, you're at a table with your roommates for the weekend. Regina exclaims, "Some girl keeps shooting daggers at me from that table over there." You ask, "Where?" She points and you see this mean girl. Sam says, "Oh yeah, we hate her. She's always rude to us and she broke my heart." Regina replies, "Ew, I hate her now too." Sam laughs and says, "You know you're not like people said, Regina." Regina asks, "Is that a good thing?" Sam answers, "It is." Regina smiles.

During dinner, someone taps your shoulder and the mean girl is standing there staring at you. She says, "Hey so a couple of my friends and I are going to sneak out later to explore. We were wondering if you, Sam, and Casey wanted to join." You ask, "What about Regina?" She snaps, "What about her? You can't tell me you already care about the new girl that much. She's not invited." You reply, "Then consider me not there, thanks for the offer." She then storms off. Regina turns to you and says, "If you want to go with her, I don't mind staying in the room. Really I do. I could see she's into you." You ask, "What? Are you jealous?" She shrugs and blushes before you say, "Relax, I was kidding. I also do not want to hang out with her more than I have to in class. The bed and the on-demand movies are calling my name tonight." Regina replies, "Don't mind if I join you. That sounds fun." You smile.

After dinner, Casey and Sam stay out with some of your class for game night. You head up with Regina then you take a shower first. You climb into bed and Regina heads to shower. You turn the TV on and find the movie channel. It's some fantasy movie you love.

Regina exits the shower, puts her stuff up, and then seems to hesitate to get back into bed. You joke, "Regina, I don't bite if that's what you're worried about." Regina smiles and says, "No sorry, it's just ... are you comfortable sharing with me?" You ask, "Why wouldn't I be? Are you planning to kill me?" She shakes her head and says, "No, nothing like that. You just don't know me too much and you know I was kicked out of school. I just don't want you to feel weird." You ask, "What, were you kicked out for sharing a bed with someone? I don't understand. I feel fine with you sharing the bed. It's all good." She slides into the bed and says, "I wasn't kicked out for that. I should probably tell you why I was kicked out though." She then goes on to explain why she was kicked out of her last high school. (Plot of Mean Girls) You exclaim, "Well I don't think you're a mean girl, Regina. You've been nice at school. I'm sorry that happened to you at your last school. It really does suck. Now, to cheer you up, you should watch one of the most epic dragon battles ever." She laughs. You like her laugh.

Sam and Casey get back once the first movie finishes. They sit on their bed and you all watch more movies.

Next Day

You hear the alarm and groan. Damn, why do you have to be awake? You rub your eyes and open them to see you are lying very close to Regina who is also just waking up. She sees you, blinks, and says, "Sorry. I guess I rolled over last night." You reply, "It's okay. So did I. How did you sleep?" She answers, "Really good. I want to go back to sleep." You reply, "So do I. It's so cozy."

The day passes with nothing crazy happening until the night. You're going to see a Shakespearean play tonight. You get all dressed up in the room with the girls and each one compliments you. Regina's compliment makes your heart flutter a little.

At the play, you walk in and take your seat. You then realize who is to your right. It's the mean girl. Regina is to your left and she seems to notice as well. You just hope tonight goes smoothly. The mean girl says, "Y/N, fancy seeing you here." You reply, "Yeah. It's almost like we're on a field trip." She laughs too loudly and says "Yeah, you're so right. HAHA! You clean up well." You sigh and reply, "Thanks. So do you." She asks, "Really?" You answer, "I'm just being nice to an acquaintance."

The lights dim and she tries talking to you. You quickly interrupt, "The play's starting. Please hold what you're going to say. I want to watch." You notice Regina's fist next to yours and you fist bump it lightly.

At intermission, the mean girl leaves with her friends for a bit. Regina leans over and says, "God, I hate her." You reply, "She just refuses to take no for an answer." She replies, "She's really into you. She's down bad." You reply, "I wish she wasn't." She replies, "I know a way that'll work. Just hold my hand." You reply, "I'm willing to try it." She holds her hand and you link yours with hers. Sure enough, when the mean girl returns and sees your intertwined hands, she switches seats with one of her friends. At the end of the play, you take your hand out of Regina's to clap for the performers. You liked holding her hand during the play.

The next few days pass the same way. You and Regina are cuddling in bed in the mornings, you both flirt a little, and you explore with your class. The mean girl even leaves you alone for the rest of the trip.

Upon arriving back at school at the end of the trip, Regina calls your name and you turn to see her running over. You exclaim, "Hey Regina, what's up?" She asks, "Could we talk for a minute?" You nod and you walk over to sit on a bench. Regina says, "Look, this trip was really great for me and I really liked spending time with you. I don't know what it meant to you, but it meant a lot to me. When we held hands," she pauses and takes a deep breath, "it felt like fireworks went off inside of me. I really like you, Y/N. I was wondering if you feel the same way about me?" Oh wow ... You reply, "I really like you too. I liked holding your hand too." She smiles widely and says, "Cool great, I'm glad. I don't want to have our first kiss in front of our school if that's okay. It just doesn't sit right with me." You laugh and reply, "Okay, that's fair. You should give me your number so we can talk about when we can make that kiss happen though." She replies, "That was smooth." You exchange numbers, hug, and then part ways happily smiling at each other across the parking lot.

#renee rapp regina george #regina george x you #regina george x reader #mean girls regina george #mean girls 2024 #mean girls musical #mean girls

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lovelytsunoda · 3 days

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does he take care of you? // george russell

does he take care of you? or could i easily fill his shoes, but you say 'no'. yeah you said 'no'... and i'm not trying to stop you love, if we're gonna do anything we might as well just fuck

summary: they had always been walking a fragile, tender line between friends and lovers. they were bound to cross it at some point.

pairing: george russell x bonnington!reader

warnings: an attempt is made at angst, people can't properly deal with their feelings. minor drug use, insinuations and non detailed sex (but bestie bonnington can’t deal with her feelings properly so she bails when things get serious-) one small little insinuation that someone might jump off a building. loosely inspired by the song 'sex' by the 1975

it was dark outside, nearing ten pm at the track when peter bonnington came to find george. george was in his drivers room, looking over printouts of race data, trying desperately to figure out where he could improve the following weekend.

“I hate to bother you, mate.” peter started, “do you have a moment?”

thankful for the reprieve from straight line speed and throttle graphs, george folded the printouts back into their legal folder and turned to look at the engineer. “what do you need?”

there were lines furrowed on bonnos brow. the man looked stressed, and george had a feeling that it wasn’t due to the cars subpar performance.

“I need you to talk to y/n. she hasn’t been doing well these past few months and I’m starting to get really worried. she won’t talk to me and she won’t talk to her mum. toto tried to ask her about it and she threw her drink in his face. something is wrong with my little girl and she’s shutting me out.”

george frowned (although he had to admit that the mental image of babe bonnington throwing the icy remainder of her pink starbucks refresher onto the great toto wolff made him laugh). “when did all this start?”

“when she came back from wales a few months ago, that big work trip. I think it has something to do with that wanker matthew she was dating, he hasn’t been around the house since before she left.”

“do you know where she is?”

“the roof, I think.”

at the look george gave him, bono sighed, shaking his head. “she’s not gonna jump. she just wants peace and quiet. I think the inside of her head is too loud. besides, the motor home isn’t high enough off the ground for anything serious to happen if she falls.”

“still, why would you let her be on her own right now?”

“she didn’t give me a choice.”

after a bit of floundering (and a trip back down the stairs after he realized he’d forgotten a coat), george found his way to the roof. from here, he couldn’t quite see the track, but he could see the lights and hear the sounds of the paddock, watching the last few stragglers exit their team homes and head for the front gates.

y/n sat at the edge, feet pulled up under her and a halo of smoke around her messy hair. her clothes were baggier than normal, darker than usual. when she turned to face him, the driver could see that her eyeliner was smudged, a single mascara tear running down her cheek. in her hand, she shakily clutched a lit joint, the embers at the end glowing orange in the night.

“I thought you quit that?” george asked, concern evident in his tone as he moved to sit next to her.

“fucking mattys fault.” she grumbled, taking a long drag of the fragrant plant. “he’s set my anxiety issues back about five years, figured it was time to go get my cbd prescription refilled.” she stopped, taking another drag before exhaling the smoke and offering it up to george. “it won’t get you high, but if we share it, it will make this look less sad.”

george frowned, taking the joint from her hand and taking a shaky drag, choking in the smoke as it filed his lungs. “what did he do? did he touch you?”

she laughed sadly, defeat in her eyes as she looked over the paddock. “nope. what he did hurt a whole lot more. when I got back from wales I went over to his apartment to surprise him, since my flight had gotten in a few hours early. he was in bed with another woman. and this wasn’t the first time, either. he’s been seeing her almost as long as he’s been seeing me. apparently she didn’t know I existed, and he was thinking about marrying her. I was fucking humiliated, george.”

“I’m so sorry.” he didn’t know what to say as he passed the joint back. she took a long drag, refusing to meet his eyes until he had reached over to shake her gently by the shoulder. “you did nothing wrong. you are pretty and funny and smart and most of all worthy of love. if matty couldn’t see that, then he didn’t deserve you in the first place, y/n.”

it happened so suddenly it almost knocked the driver on his backside. they were just talking, sitting comfortably in the marijuana smoke and then suddenly the engineers daughter is kissing him. soft, guava lips pressed to his, pillowy from all the tropical lip balms she can’t seem to put down. her hands are hungry, extinguishing the joint against the metal motor home roof before pawing at george’s broad frame.

they had been friends for years, yn considered him one of her closest. it must have been the part of her that needed reassurance that said ‘it’s okay, cross the line’ because soon enough, he was kissing her back, tongue exploring her mouth with reverence, hands gripping her waist through her mom jeans, then slipping into her back pockets to cop a feel.

“is there anyone left inside?” she panted, resting her forehead against george’s, hand splayed against his clothed chest.

the driver shook his head.

“good. I want you.”

and then they were in his drivers room, everything happening so fast that it felt like a fever dream. and then it happened, her jeans and panties on the floor, stripped down the lacy camisole she’d had on under her sweater, back on the massage table as she wrapped her bare legs around george’s hips, his hands gripping thighs hard enough to leave marks as he pounded into her, sweat dripping off the tips of his brown hair.

“god, fuck, george, please!” none of the words leaving her mouth were coherent. it didn’t matter. this was about avoidance, a mere distraction, if you will.

she needed to be fucked so hard she couldn’t think about all the bullshit matty was putting her through.

when all was said and done, her mind blissfully clear as she lay prone on the massage table, feeling the sweat dry on her flushed skin as she watched george tuck his cock back into his jeans, all she could find it in her to say was “god I needed that.”

and from there, it was all too easy to fall into a dangerous pattern that didn’t help anybody. one that tord a line so fragile it might as well have been made of salt, intended to keep the deeper feelings out.

the night in george’s drivers room turned into a quickie the next morning in the airport bathroom, bent over the vanity in front of a mirror, panties around her ankles and a massive hickey tucked into her turtleneck as they sat across from each other on the private jet, sharing a glance and smiling at the secret they shared,

eventuakly, back on home soil, the driver became her coping mechanism. when she wanted to go out but her friends were busy, george was the first person she called, pulling up to his house in her toyota corolla, synth-heavy music that was popular on tumblr in 2014 shaking the frame of the car. she turned it down as george opened the passenger door, giving her an odd look as the guitar solo played quieter in the background.

“how can you think when it’s that loud?”

“that’s the point. I can’t. it keeps the thoughts at bay.”

that night had ended in the back of an empty parking garage, movie theater popcorn and a takeout box left abandoned on the passenger seat, y/n on her knees with george’s rock hard length in her mouth. hearing him moan her name was its own kind of drug, and hearing him call her ‘good girl’ was enough to have her clenching around air.

or when george would come over, and they would make a new recipe together, criminal minds playing in the background. how many nights did the dinner end up burning while george had y/n's legs spread wide on the dining room table?

and while the act itself brought him nothing but pleasure, it was the aftermath that left him feeling like shit. he knew this was never going to go any further, that y/n was just looking for a rebound. something to take her mind off just how fucked her last relationship had been.

george would never be anything more than a friend, someone she could fuck when she needed it and be platonic with when she didn't.

she deserved better, someone who could take care of her in teh way that her heart ached for.

someone like george william russell, he thought.

but who was he to decide what was best for her? maybe he could show her, treat her right and change her mind somehow. but he wasn’t sure how to do it.

it was a night like any other, over a game of uno and a bottle of white wine, reruns of coronation street playing in the background, the smooth jazz of the intro and outro music only adding to the atmosphere.

and of course, as nights like these do, the cards ended up discarded on george’s living room floor, bodies mushed together in a heap in front of the soft blue glow of the tv. he picked her up bridal style, deftly lifting her weight as if she weighed nothing, carrying her to the master bedroom.

the bedroom. a place so intimate and so forbidden. their relationship had subsisted on having sex anywhere but a bed, for a bed would make it too real. there would be too many feelings involved.

and yet here he was, taking a massive leap into the unknown, uncharted waters as he laid her down against the linens, caging her body in with his as he kissed her.

a kiss so different from all the others that they shared, this one soft and tender. no teeth and no tongue, just the soft caress of a man’s chapped lips, done with reverence, as if her body was a treasure.

he trailed his soft, open mouthed kisses down her neck, no words exchanged between the two as his hands began to slide up her black t-shirt, over her belly-button piercing and then coming to rest over the padding of her bra as his lips traced her collarbone. he was in tune to her every movement, every whine and gasp.

he kissed down her stomach, feeling it rise and fall with her every breath. listening to the way that her breath caught as he popped open the button in her skinny jeans, dragging them down her legs and watching the goosebumps rise in their wake.

“george,” she hummed as he kissed and nibbled at her inner thigh, so close yet so far from what she needed.

“george!” it was a shout this time, paired with her small hands aggressively pushing him away. “I can’t do this. what are we doing here?”

“what?” george was wide eyed an confused “I’m treating you like a decent fucking boyfriend would! I like you yn, and you mean a lot to me. you deserve more than some cheap fuck in the backseat. you deserve to be treated like a treasure.”

she shook her head, standing up from the bed and pulling her jeans back on, refusing to meet georges eyes as she faced the firestorm of thoughts in her head, each one telling her that she had made a horrible mistake.

“we can’t. there was a line, and we crossed it.” her voice was shaky, bottom lip quivering. she was doing the right thing, or so she kept telling herself. putting that boundary back.

because they were friends. nothing more, nothing less.

george laughed. an awful, grating sound in this context. “you weren’t worried about crossing lines when you let me fuck you on my massage table. or when you had my cock down your throat.”

“please don’t take that tone with me!”

“I know matty hurt you. and I know you needed a rebound, but I want all of you, yn. I want your good days and your bad. I want to take care of you.” he was getting desperate. they both knew that there was no such thing as ‘just friends’ after this.

“I can’t be what you need, and I can take care of myself.” she tucked her hair behind her ear before storming last george and back into the living room.

george would always regret letting her leave. somehow, as he watched her grab her purse and her leather jacket and the keys to her fucking toyota, that this would be the last time he saw y/n bonnington.

and he was right.

he didn’t see her start to cry when she got into her car, driving to an empty space of road so she could pull over into the shoulder and let it all out, the radio tuned so loud that she swore it was shaking the frame of the car. and that’s when she decided it was time to reevaluate her life.

george didnt see her again for months. he heard from bonno that she quit her job, moved out to the coast. somewhere on the water. brighton or blackpool or bournemouth. a new group of friends, a new job, a fresh start.

she sold the toyota, bought herself a mini cooper countryman, a car she’d wanted since she was a little girl. she stopped wearing tight, dark clothes and starting seeking out florals, pastels even. flowier clothes that made her feel good.

and she was happy. from time to time, she still thought about that night at george’s. in a way, she was thankful. it had forced her to change, to become a better person. a healthier one. but she hated that she had hurt him. played with his feelings and then stomped on his heart. but deep down, she knew she had done the right thing. she could never have been the girlfriend that george needed. she was too broken.

george saw her again a year later, in the paddock at silverstone. he hardly recognized her: new hair, wide smile. mom jeans and a floral crop top that looked straight out of the seventies. she looked good. happy. healthy.

but there was something else he saw that hit him like a knife to the kidney.

it was the man on her arm. he was conventionally attractive, if you liked surfers. his dark hair flopped around his face the same way hugh grants did in ‘notting hill’ and his sunglasses were hooked into the collar of his striped resort shirt, left open for the top few buttons of course. she looked at him like he’d hung the moon, and he held her like she was the most important thing in his life, always having an arm around her shoulders, tucked into the back pocket of her jeans.

his name was colin. of course his name was fucking colin. like he was a character in fucking love actually, and not the man dating the woman george had so vulnerably bared his heart to.

he’d pulled out his phone, open to her number even though he’d sworn to himself that he’d delete it but he never did.

the text was right there in the message box, waiting to be sent.

does he take care of you?

but when he looked over at them again, his arms around her waist and his head on her shoulder as she was pointing out different things on her dad computer monitor, george knew the answer.

colin took incredible care of her, and he seemed to be exactly what she needed.

and how could george fault the other man for doing exactly what he would if y/n had been his?

he deleted the message without sending it, quietly slipping out of the garage, with the intention of working out until he couldn’t feel the pain any more.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @userlando @httpiastri @clemswrld @thatsdemko @diorleclerc @cartierre @lorarri @sidcrosbyspuck

#george russell #george russell x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 smut #george russel x reader #george russell x you #george russell smut

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devilishchaos · 7 months

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BABYYY drop the daddy Ruben fic, don't be shy <3

Calls | Dad!Rúben Dias imagine

Rating / genre: pure fluff

Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias

Summary: Rúben goes on a business trip. Me and our son George are sad he is away, so we face time him.

Warnings: use of pet names "babe", "baby"

Word Count: 1 347 words

This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

While begging my husband to go on this 3 day business trip, I thought to myself "What can happen in the span of 3 days, right?" Well, a lot.

I'm currently 27 weeks pregnant with twins and have a year and a half year old baby-toddler that needs my attention 24/7. Not that I am complaining but the pregnancy alone is being hard on me and my beautiful son throwing constant tantrums about missing his dad doesn't help my situation. Now, I was usually the preferred parent, but George had the tendency to not want to eat and nap while Rúben was away.

Today was going to be a long and hard day for me, I just knew it. I woke up from my nap at 7:00 am, got ready and headed to wake George up because I had an appointment with my OBGYN in an hour and had no one to look after him while I was gone, so I had to take him with me.

It was a battle but I somehow managed to get him ready for the day, made it to my appointment safely and on time and both of us were back in the coziness of our household before we knew it.

The moment we stepped through the door - the nausea hit me. And my head started spinning. I somehow made it to the bedroom and laid down on the bed and tried to take deep breaths in hopes for it to go away faster. I closed your eyes for a second and out of nowhere a loud cry pierced the silence.

With eyes wide open, all my senses on alert, I sat up in the bed and looked at the door to see George standing there, tears falling from his eyes and his tiny hands holding his favorite stuffed animal close to his chest.

"What happened baby? Are you okay?" I asked, holding out my hands in his direction.

"Dada.." he managed to say in between wheezing.

I gave him a sad knowing look. Ever since he was born he was a mama's boy but ever since I got pregnant again he looked up to Rúben more and more, and wanted to do everything that he was doing whether it was directed towards me or other people. And Rúben was the happiest person on earth, soaking in every moment because he knew that it could be taken away from him just as fast as it came.

"You miss daddy, huh bud?" I softly asked as I helped him get up on the bed to join me.

He nodded, the movement making his tiny curls shake a little.

"How about we call him? Would that make you feel better?"

"Yeah.." George mumbled, while wiping his eyes.

I was already reaching for my phone before I got an answer from him. Since Rúben is in New York and we are in Manchester there is a 5 hour time difference, but it was now way after noon in Manchester and knowing Rúben, he had been awake for some time, so that's why I suggested calling him. Okay and maybe because I miss him too and want to talk to him, but that's another topic.

I dialed his contact and gave George the phone. After two rings I saw Rúben's gorgeous face and he saw a head full of curls and two big dark eyes watching closely the screen, since George held the phone so close to him.

"Hey, gorg-" your husband started "-oh, hello big man. What are you doing with mama's phone?" you saw him smiling widly.

"Dada, miss you." George said and started crying again.

"Oh, no. Don't cry buddy. I miss you so much too."

"Home."

"I'm coming home tomorrow, baby and I'm not going anywhere after that, okay?" Rúben asked as a sad smile made its way on his face.

"Home now?" George asked as he tilted his head slightly the exact same way Rúben does and it made your heart throb.

"I wish buddy, but I have one more thing to do and then I promise I'm gonna catch the first flight back home and I'm coming straight to you. But I need you to do something for me, okay. You have to eat lunch and dinner, and you have to go to sleep when mommy says. Can you do that for me? That way I'm going to come home faster. Do we have a deal, G?" Rúben asked, slightly raising his eyebrows.

"A deal.." his son responded while rubbing his eye "Now play."

"Okay, you can go and play now. Loves you." your husband said as he leaned into the camera and kissed it, your guys's little tradition that now George did too.

"Loves you." George said cutely and kissed your front camera. He gave you the phone and ran out of your bedroom and into his playroom.

I took the phone and positioned it against my big water bottle in front of me as I greeted my hansome husband "Hi, meu amor."

"Hey, mama. How are you holding up? Big man giving you a hard time?" Rúben asked you giving you sad eyes.

"He just misses you." I exhaled "Nothing changed after the call yesterday, we're going to see what happens today. I miss you too, tho. We miss you too." I simply explained rubbing my round belly.

"I'm sorry babe. I miss all of you. Can't wait to be back home. I'm never leaving again." he shook his head as to make it more believable.

"Rúben, we talked about this. What you're doing right now is for your career and for us. So that you can take more time off while the twins come, just as you did when we welcomed George. Don't feel guilty, you're not doing anything wrong, babe. We'll get through this. We have to. In fact it's almost over." I smiled at him trying to lighten the mood.

"This is why I made you my wife. Eu te amo muito." Rúben said looking lovingly at the screen in front of him.

"I love you more."

"Period." he said while snapping his fingers, which made both of you to start giggling.

"Stop. I'm gonna pee my pants!" I said in between laughing.

"Okay, okay. So how did the appointment go? Everything alright?" Rúben's face went completely serious in a spare of seconds.

"Yes. Babies are doing just fine." I said and took a breathing break "I however, am struggling. Babe, I'm 27 weeks into this pregnancy and do you know what my doctor told me? That I'm measuring full term compared to a singleton pregnancy. That's very overwhelming considering that I hopefully have 8 or 9, 10 weeks left in the absolute ideal case scenario. And technically I am still 6 months pregnant. At the very end of my 6th month. Can you believe this?" I looked at him with a questioning face.

Rúben's eyes went wide "Wow."

"Wow indeed. I mean..that's what I get for having children with a freaking giant, I guess."

"Hey. You looooove this giant. And the babies that you both made." Rúben winked at me, eyes going soft and a smile appearing on his lips "Everything will be okay. Just try not to overwork yourself. And no, I'm not saying don't do nothing and just lay in bed all day. But you are very pregnant and are taking care of a fussy baby-toddler. Please, just take it easy while I'm away. When I come back it will be different."

"I'm gonna try my best. Now I have to go to make a snack because I'm starving and you have work to do. So talk to you later. You also take it easy, okay." I lovingly smiled at him, damn I can't wait for it to be tomorrow already.

"Alright, talk to you later. Loves you."

"Loves you." both of us said at the same time, smiling at each other, leaning in and kissing the front cameras on our phones, sharing a virtual kiss and ending the call.

#ruben dias #ruben gato dias #ruben dias fic #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias imagines #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias fluff #football imagine #football imagines

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m1ssunderstanding · 2 months

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Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 1.3

Okay can anyone explain the “false hotel registration” thing to me? Does it mean they registered under a false name? So Paul registered under a false name so he could go fuck a girl in his room without getting in trouble with the press? I'm confused. Didn't they bring girls to their rooms all the time without getting in trouble? It doesn't make sense. Why did he feel the need to register under a different name?

Paul, talking about American conservatism, “So many organizations over here that are nuts anyway.” John, “Yeah, they're so far right they just–” tape ends. They really were brave, though. To say what they thought and risk losing what they'd only just got. I wonder who cut the recording.

Journalist: Paul, are you planning to marry Jane Asher? John: scream ‘no.’ Go on. Lol John certainly says what he feels doesn't he?

Paul making fun of the racist question. Good job bud.

The whole “Yesterday” thing is crazy. Like, what a feat, first of all. I think we forget how unbelievably successful the song was.

Second of all, I know John's reaction was childish and mean, but his feelings were valid if you just look at the treatment and reception of “Ticket to Ride” (John's dead mum song). Like objectively yesterday is a better song, but still.

Oh, John. Poor thing.

If “Girl” is secretly about Paul . . . yeesh. It's so obsessive and adoring and simultaneously so disappointed and disparaging. John always has such impossible standards for Paul. “She promises the earth to me and I believe her, after all this time I don't know why.” Um… maybe because he literally did give you the world? At so many points I find myself asking, “what more could Paul possibly have given John?”

People always take this quote as a sexuality thing, but couldn't it also be a conscience thing? Revulsion at taking advantage of the fact that all these women are fans? At the scale of his infidelity? I don't know, am I giving him too much credit?

The thing about Paul, John – and though it drives you insane, it's a big factor in why you love him -- is he's not going to be bullied into anything. If he decides to take LSD it's going to be on his own terms. And I know you think it'll bring you two closer, and you're right, but peer pressure just doesn't work on him. There's no point. You know that.

I LOVE Paul and the Indica. Designing the wrapping paper in secret up in his little attic room, covering over the shop windows so he can do his handyman work building shelves and painting in peace. It's Linda's Paul pre Linda, you know?

John is so good at PR as in making something sound as beautiful and important and powerful as possible. Which is something Paul absolutely relied on John to do and clearly could not do on his own after the break up. Look how John makes them almost into prophets here.

"I really wanted to live in London but I wouldn't risk it." Another thing to make John envious of Paul and resentful of Cynthia. I really wish those two had just never got married.

“I don't object to people having a lot of money, I never did. But I do object to people being stony broke and starving.” RIP John, you would've loved the American “left” of today. But you can't have the former without the latter, sorry.

This picture always gets me. It's ridiculous. Pattie and George. Mo and Ringo. John and Paul. With Cynthia awkwardly by herself. It's funny. It's adorable. It's crushing. And with that quote? It's impossible.

I think Tara Browne is overlooked. Paul brought him home for Christmas. That's a big deal. And John hated him enough to laugh when he read about his death. That's also a big deal. Paul and his messed up social climbing obsession. I do think it's worth pointing out, though, the difference between Paul’s LSD trip with Tara and his trip with John. More on that later.

I really do think they were all staunchly anti-racist for their time, you know, besides John's racist jokes and drawings… but Paul particularly. And I have to wonder where that came from. Did he have empathy for people being judged on appearance and background? Was it partially due to his idolization of black artists? Did Little Richard maybe say something to him about racism in America? Anyone have any thoughts?

Actually, same, John.

Okay and I have to share my hot take on the whole Jesus scandal. It's this: the American right doesn't actually care about Jesus. They care about protecting their hegemony. They didn't like that the Beatles were openly and stubbornly integrationist. They didn't like Paul's comment about their inhumane racism. But they couldn't openly counter that without showing their hand. So they used the Jesus comment as an excuse. If they play the religious persecution card, they get to paint themselves as the victims and therefore the good guys while they take down anyone who challenges the status quo that keeps them in money and power (aka the Beatles).

Maybe I should've had a “poor baby” tally because the number of times I've said that about John in these comments has got to be tally-worthy. I would've driven around in a gorilla suit with you, honey!

It is actually amazing that there hasn't been more speculation on Paul's sexuality with all these serious boyfriends.

Paul tells a story about a time he flew a plane, and how much better he liked it than being a passenger. First off. Imagine being a pilot and just being like “oh, you've never touched a joystick in your life, but you're Paul McCartney? Sure, go ahead. Fly the plane.” But also. His control issues and his confidence are both off unreal. No one in their right mind would feel more safe flying a plane – as someone with a complete lack of experience – than when a licensed pilot is flying it.

Okay I literally JUST learned that Here There and Everywhere says, “how good it can be” not could. Can. And it's one of those in my "for sure this was about John" folder. Okay then. Wow.

The thing is they really did compliment each other's songs a lot more than modern Paul makes it seem like. So I wonder what it was about the “Here There and Everywhere” compliment that made it so special to Paul?

This footage where John is hiding behind McCharmley. I love protective Paul and how different he is to protective John and how much they needed each other.

Hall of Fame quote: “what composer do you respect the most?” “I dunno really. John Lennon.” “Paul McCartney.”

#Sorry this one got pretty political hopefully everyone survived #paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #understanding lennon mccartney #ulm

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shelbgrey · 10 months

Note

Hey, sweetie! Could you do something for “Being Harry Potter's twin sister?”. You know... Their whole trajectory, their discovery of Sirius and Remus (who might be her godfather). She has an unusual friendship with Neville and the Weasleys (especially the twins and Fred, who she has a crush on and is fully reciprocated with). Thanks for the attention 🌷🩶.

Being Harry Potter's Twin sister Headcanons:

Paring: Fem!Reader x Brother!Harry Potter, Fem!Reader x Fred Weasley.

Summary: your life as the chosen one's sister.

A/n: so I might split this up with each year. Sorry this took so long and it's not edited.

🧡Master List 🧡Potter MasterList

So I feel like you and Harry would be totally different, and it might sound stereotypical, but you look like your mom with your dad's eyes.

Also you do have a scar, I looks like Harry's but it's on your wrist.

Most muggles and wizards forget your twins beacuse you look nothing alike.

With Harry I think he trusts adults a little too quick, with the treatment the Dursly's caused I think you'd have major trust issues. You only really trust Harry.

Harry is almost extremely over protective of you and sometimes thinks he's the older brother because he happens to be taller and five minutes older. “you know I'm five minutes older than you, right?”

“why does that bloody matter?”

Harry would do anything to keep you safe from Dudley and the other Dursley, I think Petunia would be harsher on you because you remind her so much of Lily and Dudley just think it's a game to terrioz you.

“keep your hands off her!” Harry shouted and pushed your cousin off you aching body.

People Don't know how relieved you were to get your Hogwarts letter.

Year one:

Like I said before you don't trust people as easy as Harry does, so when Hagrid came to rescue you two you were very reluctant and let Harry do most of the talking.

I'd say the Dursly's treatment causes you to be jumpy and very much aware of your surroundings, meaning you were hiding behind Harry when Hagrid came by.

But you learned to trust him during the trip to Digon Ally, he got Harry an owl and you a Ferrett named Seeley.

You also discovered your wand was related to The 'murder' Sirius Black's wand.

The first person you'd actually meet first is Fred and George, Hagrid had taken you to a candy shop in Digon ally and you both were after the last box of all flavor beans.

“you go ahead” he smiled when he saw you flinch back. “no, you” you respond.

Fred shook his head with a smile and handed you the colorful box. “no, you shouldn't take things from a pretty lady” that made you blush and take the box nervously.

And saved by the bell wizard, Harry called your name. “I got it go... Bye”

He didn't even get your name. Fred watched you run away with hearts in his eyes. George looked at him confused when he saw no candy in his hands.

“Georgie, I think I'm in love” he smiled like an idiot.

George, not knowing how to respond smiled.

When you got to Hogwarts you met Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy.

You had found Neville's Toad Trevor and was the one to return him. I think Neville would be star struck with you, your kindness to him and how pretty you were, he definitely had a crush on you immediately.

With Draco he just had infatuation, with Fred and Neville it was actual attraction(Neville more at the time) but with the Blonde Slytherin he saw you as someone he could get back at his parents with. The daughter of Lilly and James, Lucicus hated them and his eyes it would be a perfect opportunity to rebell a little.

You saw right threw him, you may not trust people immediately, but you do like to get to know them before you pass judgment. Draco lost your judgment as soon as he disrespected Ron and the rest of the Weasleys.

“listen you little Ferrett, leave Ron and his family alone”

I don't think the twins would take you being teased lightly, Fred didn't really care what Draco thought about him but him saying something about you or George is usually the last straw.

Anyway, the sorting hat didn't know what house to put you in. He was stuck between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. “your a lot smarter than people give you credit for...your also brave, maybe even braver than your brother”

The hat did consider your feelings, he didn't just put you in Gryffindor because you were afraid to be separated from Harry, he did because he wanted to prove how brave and strong you were.

Gryffindor was ecstatic to have both Potters, especially Fred and George. They both cheered with the rest of their house mates and gave you the empty spot next to them.

With that I think you'd have your own trio, you are very close to Hermione and Ron both, but your defently best friends with the twins.

Your also close with Neville, people might think your a body guard and would even teas him for it, but you actually love Neville company and think he's tougher than he relizes.

Some people might not realize you got on the Quidditch team beofer Harry, you became a Chaser.

During your first game the twins wouldn't leave your side, Fred was afraid you'd get hurt. I think the whole team was considering you were a first year.

Harry's broom was the only one that was supposed to get jinxed but you got in the way. You got swang around like crazy while the twins and Oliver tried to help you. It drove Harry crazy he couldn't help you, but he had his own jinxed broom to deal with too.

Ron and Hermione of course thought it was Snape, but it wasn't. He was concentrated on helping you... Even more than Harry.

You remind him of Lily... like a lot, so I think it would make him less biter towrds you. Yeah it'll hurt him to see you at first, but I think he wouldn't be harsh on you like he is Harry.

During the holiday we know Harry saw your parents in the mirror of erase, but as much as you loved your parents I don't think that's what you saw. You can't change the past, so you just wanted some kind of family. So when you looked in the mirror you saw the Weasleys.

You and the twins had been extremely close, especially Fred. During the holidays Molly sent you a sweater with your initial and Fred got you a paracord bracelet with a heart charm. He and george had matching ones(minus the heart) so at the time it was friendship bracelets.

When you went to see the mirror by your self Professor McGonagall cought you, she really liked you and thought you were a bright student. You don't get to show it much because Hermione always beats you too it.

Speaking of professors and Hogwarts staff, I think Hagrid would help you discover your love for animals and magical creatures. Which ment you were pissed when Draco ragged about Hagrid's baby dragon.

Your love for magical creatures also helps you and the golden trio get passed Fluffy the three headed dog.

You and Hagrid bonded over talking about animals and you guys grew closer because of that.

It still bewilders Ron how you saw innocents in the dog and though he was cute.

You didn't want to go back to the Dursly's, but with the events that transpired this year you were afraid to stay at Hogwarts too, but you couldn't help but love the place, as dangerous as it was it was also safe and full of wonderful people.

Year two:

So for starters I think Doby would annoy the hell out of Harry's sister and I think she would be pissed off he was at the Dursly's warring them instead of Ginny or Hermione or even Colin.

So when you got back from Hogwarts you and Harry did have to share Dudley's second bedroom, it was cramped and always hot, but it was better than living under the staircase.

So, remember when the Dursly's tried to stop Harry from going to the Burow with the Weasley's? Well Harry did get in their little blue Angler, but when he did Vernon grabed you causing Fred to jump through the window and get you.

Molly would be so happy to see you again and even kinda embarrassed Fred. “y/n darling, I'm so glad your hear... Fred hear wouldn't shut up about you all summer”

“mom!” Fred look embarrassed while George was trying to cover his laughter for his brother's sake.

The burow is big but it's also cramped at times, so you and the twins share a room, your best friends and your comfortable with each other. Your just kids right now and there's no dirty thoughts to it just three best friends having a sleep over.

Thoses night Fred found out about your nightmares, George is a heavy but one night you woke up Fred when you were tossing and whimper beacuse of them. You only remember your parents death in your dreams and currently your adventures from last year.

Fred comferted you through out the night. He didn't make you talk about it, just held you. George teased you guys when he woke up the next morning and saw you guy cuddling. You guys let it slide since he didn't know the situation.

But, During your stay I think you'd grow closer to George, your both the quieter of the twins and are usually the followers. You would tell him you hated all the attention being Harry's sister brings.

Fred would get jealous, really jealous but he loves you both too much to bring it up. George knows how much Fred cares about you and your relationship with George is strictly Platonic.

George knows Fred like the back of his hand and he told him that. “you know we're just friends, right? I'd never hurt you like that”

Speaking of friends, since it's ginny's first year you and the twins are all pretty protective, which ment you were about to kick Draco's teath out when he was hassling her at the book shop in Digon ally.

“touch her and it'll be the last thing you ever do”

You also despise Lockheart, You and the twins spend most of the year messing with him. Especially when it comes to quizes about himself.

“my favorite smell isn't the ass of a hairless dog!” Lockheart yelled after reading our answers.

You broke your arm during the Quidditch match where Draco and Harry we're going add it. The people and the teams were too busy watching your brother to realize you got knocked off your broom.

Fred cought you before you could hit the ground and he took you to madam Pomfrey with George and Hagrid's help.

That day you realized since you weren't the chosin one like Harry you weren't that inresting. But that didn't matter to your closest people. To Fred you were the greatest thing to ever enter hogwarts.

He stayed with you the entire time and helped you with assignments till you got better.

You weren't part of this year's adventure. You were too worried about taking care of Ginny and Hermione.

Years 3:

So after the whole blowing up aunt marge incident you went to the Burow(in this universe you go straight there).

You told the twins about aunt Marge and they couldn't stop laughing. You now call it "the incident" and it kinda became inside joke, Ginny getts annoyed with not knowing what it means.

“you keep saying 'the incident'! What doses that mean?”

You did find about Sirius black and that he was Harry's godfather. You would think he'd be yours too but really it was never confirmed since Lilly wanted Remus to be the godfather.

Remus told you about the once playful argument that James and Lily had about that. I think you'd grow really close to Remus.

He's the first adult you trusted immediately. You tell him everything and he becomes the first ever real father figure you've ever had.

Aurther is kinda of a father figure but you don't want to see him that way since your in love with his son.

Anyway, you find out about Remus being a werewolf just beacuse you were wondering around on a full moon, you weren't scared like a normal person should be which suprised him. You promised to never say anything.

It got annoying when Hermione kept asking werewolf questions when she started to have her suspicions.

You were relieved when you found out Sirius didn't actually kill your parents. You found out Sirius was really fun to be around. While Remus was a shoulder to cry on or sortof a body guard, Sirius was c comedic relief and learned how to make you and Harry laugh.

Year 4:

Your fourth year is when Fred and you really started to act on your feelings. When you went to the Quidditch world cup, Fred kissed you after your favorite team won.

Since death eaters showed up it was short lived and you guys didn't really speak of it till later.

You didn't try to get your name in the goblet of fire like your two best friends, nor was your name put in there.

It was bizarre... You wanted to do it just to prove you were just as brave and important as Harry. Fred helped you relize how important and loved you were during the last two summers, but since your name didn't get put in there like Harry's you felt pushed to the side lines again.

Fred was a little bit upset at your mindset. He didn't want you thinking you were useless but he also didn't want you in danger.

“why would you want to! It's dangerous, I don't know what I'd do If you got hurt!”

Then it turned into an argument. “I want to do It because I'm tired of being in his shadow I want to prove I'm just as strong! And why dose it matter if I was in the tournament or not?”

“beacuse I love you! The Wizarding world might not have chosen you but I do... And I know we're just kids but I do know that I love you”

Your heart melt and if felt like all your walls came crashing down. You knew you were important to him, but it finally clicked that you were is first choice from the beginning. No Harry, no chosin crap, he just wanted you.

You had your first real kiss in mouths. A rough but passionate kiss. He poured so mush love and emotion in it, he wanted to prove he wanted you and only you.

Then you became a couple, a few side problems kinda showed up. Hermione and Krum, then you and Neville... He wanted to asks you out so bad but then he finally had the confidence to ask you out he found you and Fred kissing.

You knew when something was bothering Neville, he became stand-offish and wouldn't really talk to you. When he confronted you all his emotions came out. He told you everything and even end his rant that he rather have you as a friend than not having you at all.

“but then I realized our friendship means more to me than anything, I'm happy for you and Fred but I don't want to lose my best friend”

“You won't...”

The Yule Ball was so much fun, you of course went with Fred and everything was perfect.

Having Cedric die was hard, you wernt close to him but having him die made you appreciate you brother again. You two became distant since you felt put on the side lines, but when you thought about Harry dying you couldn't help but cry.

“you and me against the universe” Harry said after you talked about it to him. “I'll always protect you and I'm sorry if you felt like I pushed you away”

Harry really did feel bad, but he felt even worse when he found out about you and Fred. He's been so busy he didn't even know you have a boyfriend for like three months.

He was happy for you both, he trust you'd be treated right and didn't feel like he had to put up an over protective brother facade.

Year 5:

So Remus is defently over protective and put the fear of murlin in Fred, but he knew Fred was a good guy.

You and Fred also worked hard to get Tonks and Remus together. You knew how much he loved her but he wouldn't act upon it.

Also with Voldemort back you were eager to join the order of the Phoenix, even if you weren’t old enough. And you better believe Fred would be right behind you.

“I'm in” you said.

“NO!” Remus and Sirius both said at the same time.

Okay so it's your fith year and Fred's last year, it's kinda of upsetting but it just encourages you guys to make the most of the year.

You love helping the boys sell their products and even help come up with some new ideas.

Rather the product are safe or not your usually the one to sell the product to fellow classmates, especially the females. George says to can sell a drowning man water.

The year was great... Till the pink monster showed up and started changing everything.

She got under Fred's skin like crazy and Umbridge knew it, he didn't really care what she did to him, took away one of his prank toys he doesn't care he'll just make a new one but what he didn't lightly is when you had to endore one of her detentions.

You didn't want the boys knowing or worry Fred and Harry. He accidentally found out when he grabed your soar hand the wrong way.

“I'm gonna end her!”

You had to grabe him and convince him if he did anything he'd get kicked out of school... Which he didn't care.

You knew about them dropping out and you even help plan their excape.

After they left Fred wrote to you almost every day, filling you in about the shop and telling you about the success.

You couldn't be more proud of them and even planed on working there that summer but the end of there made you forget about it.

Sirius had died protecting you, Bellatrix was about to use the same spell on you that she used on Mr. And mrs. Longbottom. Neville tried to protect you but Sirius bet him to it the only cost was his life.

During the summer you mostly stayed with the twins and worked at the shop, things got better and Fred worked hard to cheer you up.

He loves spending most of his time with you and doesn't really care if people see.

“your not supposed to get handsy with the staff” you joked.

“I won't tell if you want”

Year 6:

Not Much happened... That concerned you at least. You spent most of your year hanging out with Neville and Luna.

Harry and the other two were to busy worrying about Draco and you just didn't have the energy to care.

You quite the Quidditch team after an acadent last year so you usually helped Luna or who ever narrat the game.

You did worry about Draco though, he looked so alone and no one really cared, all Harry cared about was proving he was doing something wrong.

He grew so much respect for you when you found him crying, you didn't judge him like he expected... Just let him cry.

You filled Fred and George in about the closet stuff and how the school is going down hill.

After the school year you went home with the twins after Dumbledore's funeral, as awful as it might sound you weren't too affected by his death. You felt like Dumbledore never really cared about you or your brother.

Year 7:

So you spent most of the Summer paining and decorating for Billy's wedding, it was a good distraction.

During the battle of the seven Harry's George protected you because the death eaters would expect you to be with Fred, George got his ear blown off because he was protecting you.

After the wedding got ambushed you ended up going with the golden trio, Fred tried to go after you but Charlie stoped him I'm fear for his brother.

You spent most of the time listing to the radio with Ron, making sure George or Fred's name isn't mentioned.

During the battle of Hogwarts the twins didn't leave your side.

“you okay freddie? Y/n?” George asked.

“I'm scared” you admitted. Fred pulled you to his side and held you while George held your free hand. “I won't let anything hurt you”

When things got really heated during the battle you got separated from the two, you and George ended up meeting up in what used to be the charms room.

You started to panic when you didn't see Fred. “Wait, where's fred”

George couldn't stop you and ran in search for him, before you could even register what was happening Fred shielded you from a killing curse.

Even if your brother won the battle you lost the love of your life, you didn't really want to see anyone except George and even that hurt... Looking at his face and seeing the same eyes and freckles.

George promised if anything happens to Fred he'd make sure you'd be alright.

Super mega happy ending:

So if you chose this ending Fred didn't die, you guys got betten up but that's all.

A year later you guys got married and you worked as the care of magical creatures professor at the school, during the summer you worked with your husband and brother-in-law.

You had twins, a boy and a girl. Fred cried when he found out you'd he having twins.

George and Angelina were of course the god parents.

You are very protective of your kids, always making sure they're okay and on the anniversary of your parents death your twins sleep with you.

Your daughter is just like Fred, a total minnis in the best way possible, your son is the quieter one... Much like you and George.

Your twins joined the Quidditch team and got sorted into Gryffindor like every other Potter and Weasley.

You couldn't be more happy or proud of your family.

#Harry Potter #harry potter headcanon #Harry Potter headcanons #Sister!reader X Harry Potter #Hogwarts #Gryffindor #sirius black #Remus Lupin #Fred Weasley #George Weasley #Neville Longbottom #Slytherin #Draco malfoy #Ravenclaw #chamber of secrets #Sorcerer's stone #prisoner of azkaban

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urmomification · 2 years

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hc that steve harrington is classically trained on the piano but quit taking lessons his sophomore year but is still very musically talented.

- he picked up guitar in middle school because he was bored

- no one really knows bc he doesn't ever talk abt it, not even robin

- but sometimes if robin ever practices in front of him or while he's around he can tell if she's flat or sharp and tells her (she doesn't mind that's why she does it)

- super good pitch and tune

- whenever someone asks why there's a piano in the house he just shrugs as if he doesn't play it regularly to help with his stress

- good voice too

- when he can't sleep he'll listen to music then try and figure it out on the piano or guitar to help him relax

- introducing eddie

- steve knew he was in a band when they were in highschool, so he knows he can play and sing

- he was always a little envious, but never did anything about it because he didn't really want to be associated w them (like at all)

- post upside down steve and eddie start hanging out more bc they're close in age and the kids need rides from them

- steve will be the first to say that he's definitely NOT crazy abt eddie's taste in music (he liked george michael. cuz i said so)

- but the more they hang out the more steve gets used to it (likes it)

- eventually they're eddie's driving around w steve and this One Song comes on and steve immediately u knows he HAS to learn this on the piano (choose whatever song u want. I didn't think this far ahead)

- asks eddie the name of the song and who it's by

- eddie almost crashes the car w how fast he whips his head around to look at steve bc He basically just Asked To Listen To This Again

- eventually eddie tunes back in and tells steve the name of the song and notices him jot it down on his hand or arm or something before he begins to tap against his thighs to the beat (he's internalizing the beat guys)

- single finger beat keeping switches to him starting to try and map out chords and the melody on his legs (Tries to. It's hard)

- he suddenly looks up and looks around to see where they are and notices they aren't far from his place

- 'eddie take me home'

- 'what? why'

- 'don't ask, just drive'

- so eddie does, very confused and little hurt bc steve is scrunching his face up looking annoyed but he's just trying to focus on the song still

- eddie pulls into the driveway and steve practically runs out of the car, nearly tripping on the driveway w how fast he's moving

- eddie's just sitting in the car like ??? before he decides to follow him to see What The Hell is Wrong

- and he gets in the door and hears a piano from the basement and follows the sound

- he gets down there and steve is frantically sorting chords out and humming to himself to see what works and what doesn't and he doesn't hear eddie come down

- eddie just stands there really

- after a few minutes steve has got it coherent enough to tell what it is and turns and grins a little shyly at eddie

- s 'sorry abt that'

- e 'i didn't know u played'

- s 'i didn't tell u'

- e 'how did u do that'

- s 'took lessons for years as a kid, i can just kinda' gestures vaguely to the piano and himself and

- e 'that's so cool' he walks over and stands behind steve by the piano 'can u do more of it?'

- s 'uh, Yeah i guess i can'

- they work together to figure out the rest of the song (easy part)

- eddie asks him to learn some other songs (he's hesitant to say yes)

- eddie asks him to teach him a little (he's less hesitant)

- they end up spending the afternoon in steve's basement w a few beers and a radio in the background w eddie daring steve to play whatever comes on the top 40

#steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #?#loosely. they're both Here #eddie munson #this wasn't supposed to be like an actual thing #but i've been getting back into piano so #also no clue if this is readable at all sorry guys

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curseofhecate · 4 months

Text

And you understand now why they lost their mind and fought the wars

Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader

They are best friends since forever yet they only now realize they're in love with each other.

3.1k

This had been long overdue. But its finally here. I really hope you enjoy it and its not that bad as it is in my head. Also its the first time writting for Lockwood and I have yet to read the books because I'm a slow reader and I'm still stuck at a thausand boy kisses by Tillie Cole. This based off of one of my favourite Taylor Swift songs, You're in love (Taylor's Version).

The tension in the room was unbearable. It wasn't unusual for a case to go horribly wrong but it was a rare occurrence that one of them would get hurt.

Last night's case could be rightfully referred to as a disaster. It had all gone wrong from the very start. The little information they had on the house's history, Lucy forgetting the salt bombs, the client's lie about the number of ghosts they'd have to face,it had all led up to this.

No one had gotten seriously injured but in Lockwood's eyes even a broken wrist was too much of a damage. Especially when it was his best friend that had suffered the injury.

It was well past 3 am now and tiredness was evident among the team. After a difficult case and a trip to the hospital, the last thing the three of them needed was their boss scolding them and pointing out everything they had done wrongly.

Lockwood sighed, waving them off and assured them that they'd continue this conversation in the morning to which the rest of his team groaned. George was the first to go up to his room, complaining about how he needed to shower. Lucy lingered for a bit, finishing the rest of her tea in one big sip before bidding them goodnight and retiring to her room as well.

That left the two best friends alone in the kitchen. Lockwood got up from his seat, only now noticing how his tea had grown cold. He placed the kettle on the stove and opted for chamomile while the girl lit the three candles in the middle of the table. As he placed the two mugs on the table she turned off the lights and sat down next to the boy. "It's hurting my eyes" She shrugged at the boy's confused expression.

Taking a small sip from the steaming mug in front of him, Lockwood turned to look at her again. Only this time his gaze didn't give away irritation or anger. His eyes had softened, the previous flames had died down and in their place was now worry and adoration.

This was a side of Anthony Lockwood few people were privileged to see, and even to them it was a rare sight. It was a look meant just for her, his best friend since he could remember.

His gaze shifted from her eyes to her injured wrist that now had a cast wrapped around it. "Does it hurt?" He asked gently, grabbing her wrist to inspect it, even though one couldn't notice anything out of place due to the cast.

"I'll get over it. We both know I've had worst" She shrugged. Anthony sighed. He didn't like the idea of her getting hurt, especially because of him. Reaching over the table for the marker George had abandoned he smiled a little once he saw the little doodle on the thinking cloth. Another version of George’s take on angry Lockwood.

“Well in his defense, it did look like smoke was coming out of your ears” Y/n chuckled once she saw what he was looking at. Lockwood didn’t argue, only uncapped the marker gently grabbed her injured wrist again.

“Can I?” he asked looking up from confirmation. The girl nodded, moving closer so that it would be easier for him to write on her cast. And right there, in the dimly lit kitchen and in the early hours of the morning, Lockwood wrote his name in black ink. He was careful, writing it on her inner wrist where no one could see his first name, Anthony, written in calligraphic letters, if they didn’t already know.

“People will think I’m your property Lockwood” she joked. “As if you could ever be someone’s property” he argued.

He hoped that the dim light would hide the rosy color that was spreading on his cheeks and that she couldn’t feel the heat radiating off his face. And, truth is, there wasn’t much proof of Lockwood’s blushing. But she knew him too well and could tell by the tiny and subtle change in his demeanor.

She had seen just enough to know.

It had been roughly a week since that night when someone else noticed the carefully written word. She and Lucy had been hanging out in their shared room, goofing around, flipping through magazines, painting each other’s nails and gossiping. It was one of the very few nights they didn’t have to deal with visitors and hauntings, which was a rare occurrence.

“Oh come on! I want to sign your cast” Lucy complained, holding up a pink glitter pen. “No Luce, you’re going to ruin it” she said, letting herself fall back onto the bed, sighing. It had been a long day. Between spending the better half of the day with George at the Archives, doing research for tomorrow night’s case, coming back to find Lucy and Lockwood arguing about who would go out to buy the groceries (which was pointless as Y/n offered to go instead, to which Lockwood insisted he’d be the one to do it since she had a broken wrist and, according to him, couldn’t carry a single bag but still let her tag along with him) and dancing with Lucy to whatever song the radio was playing she had become exhausted.

“How come Lockwood can sign your cast but I can’t” she pouted. Her words had her sitting back up in mere seconds. “What? You two know that I’m not stupid enough not to notice. God, even George isn’t that oblivious”.

“George knows too?” the other asked, confused.

Lucy nodded in response. The girl groaned, falling back onto the bed, already knowing what’s coming.

“So, has he asked you out yet or-”

A pillow was thrown in her face, cutting her off. “Shut up” Y/n said, blushing, head down looking at her hands in a futile attempt to hide the pink color that was rising to her cheeks. Lucy took hold of the pillow and threw it back at her friend with little force so as to not hurt her. “You're blushing” she announced laughing at her friend.

“Oh shut up!

"Are you sure you're going to be alright on your own?" asked Lockwood, standing in the middle of their living room, their equipment bags placed down on the floor beside him. Her and Lockwood had been arguing back and forth all day about whether she could, or not, join tonight's case. It had already been four weeks since the accident that led to breaking her good wrist and the girl was growing tired of not being able to accompany the others on their nightly adventures. However no one could deny that she couldn’t yet fully handle a rapier so Lockwood won that argument.

"I could still come with you, '' she offered, hoping that he would finally cave in. "N/n we've already been through this'' he scolded, like a parent would their child,which was quite funny since it usually was the other way around whenever Lockwood decided to do something reckless (which was at least once during every case).

"Fine."

"You still haven't answered my question," he pointed out.

She sighed. "Yes, Anthony I'm going to be just fine. I can handle myself. Besides you are the ones staying out after curfew and putting yourself in danger while fighting ghosts."

"Like you don't do the same every other night."

"Apparently, I don't," she said, raising her bandaged wrist.

Lockwood laughed at her antics. "As soon as you can handle your rapier without dropping it every two minutes, I'll let you come with us. I promise. But until then you have to rest."

"I think I've had enough rest for the next eternity" she groaned.

"I just don't want to risk you getting hurt again. I want you to be safe. And taking you with us when you can't use your rapier means you can't defend yourself. And as much as I'd love to be your personal knight, I can't risk anything happening to you."

"I know Anth" she said, moving forward to pull him in a hug. The boy copied her actions, pressing a soft kiss on top of her head.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Lucy hated that I love you, didn't seem to be doing anything for the two. She hated that they were both so clueless to their feelings for one another. She hated that they couldn't just kiss already. She hated that she had to sit through all this painfully slow slow burn. But most of all she hated that she'd have to ruin their little moment.

"Come on lovebirds. We have a ghost to take down" George interrupted them before Lucy could even say anything.

The Lockwood&Co agency was out of commision for the holidays.

It usually felt nice to have a break. Not when it was the Christmas season. There were, simply, too many things to do, and that left all four of the friends exhausted. And now, well into the evening of Christmas Eve, the house was for once quiet.

George and Lucy had retired to their bedrooms a little while ago, which left Lockwood and Y/n. The two best friends were sitting side by side on the couch, sharing a blanket. Two empty mugs were abandoned on the coffee table in front of them and the radio played softly in the background.

And while Lockwood was immersed in the book he was reading, his best friend was resting her head on his shoulder, her eyes drifting from the book he was reading to the window.

The usually bleak weather had been replaced by a lighter sky and a soft white had started to cover everything. Noticing this, the girl tugged on the sleeve of his sweatshirt and lifted her head from his shoulder. This seemed to gain his attention as he averted his gaze from the book and looked at her confused.

"It's snowing,'' she announced. Getting up from the couch she pulled on her snow boots quickly and reached for their coats, throwing Lockwood his before putting her own on.

He didn't need to ask to know what that meant. Actually he knew just the moment she pointed the change of weather out to him. He knew there was no point in arguing with her, so instead he put on his coat and started searching for his own pair of snow boots.

When he had successfully put them on he was quick to follow the girl out the door leading to their backyard. And just as the door closed behind him, he felt something cold hit the back of his head. "Hey" he exclaimed, faking agitation as he turned to face her.

The girl gave him an innocent smile which didn't last long when a few seconds later she broke out laughing. Lockwood was amused. For a moment he froze in his place, not because of the cold or the snow but because he was mesmerized by the girl in front of him and time stood still for a second.

What could he have possibly done to deserve an angel like her?

The boy was pulled out of his trance when another snowball hit his face and his best friend was suddenly laughing harder than before.

He smiled a little, scooping up snow from the ground and throwing the snowball at her. The girl stopped laughing, clearly not expecting it. She glared at the boy as if he was an old friend that had betrayed her and turned into her worst enemy before her face broke into a soft smile as she picked up snow to throw back at him.

"Oh, it's on" Lockwood shook his head as he copied her actions.

Their little snowball fight lasted a bit over 20 minutes and it consisted of throwing snowballs at each other, laughing and giggling as Lockwood chased her around. Eventually they both got tired and when he finally caught her he lost his balance and ended up tackling her to the ground.

He rolled on his back and the two laid there, on the snowy ground, for a few minutes, laughing until they eventually calmed down. There was a silence then, one that lasted only a few seconds and yet it was enough for Anthony John Lockwood to realize that he didn't just love his best friend but he was in love with her.

Pulling himself up, he offered his hand for her to take. She joined their hands and let him pull her up. The two stood there, looking into each others' eyes with their faces only centimeters apart.

Anthony paused, as if wanting to say something but had decided against it at the last second. Then, his eyes never once leaving hers, he said "You're my best friend."

He had told her these words many times yet this once, they seemed to hold a completely different meaning. One that suggested that maybe she wasn't only his best friend and that maybe the line between platonic and romantic love had become blurry.

And it was at that moment that she realized that he was in love. With her.

He was in love with her.

And so was she.

She didn't give it a second thought, because if she had then she would have never actually done it, before pulling him closer and pressing her lips against his in a soft kiss.

And for the second time that day, time stood still for Anthony Lockwood.

And when she pulled away, she looked into his eyes and she told him that "I love you too."

And this time, the phrase she so commonly used with him held a different much deeper and more sacred.

The next morning she woke up in his room, to an empty bed. The clock on the bedside table read a few minutes after seven. She didn't bother changing out of his shirt that he had given her last night to sleep in, because she didn't want to accidentally wake up Lucy, with whom she shared a room with in the process. Instead she walked straight into the kitchen, knowing Lockwood would most likely be there.

And he was, sitting at the table, a steaming cup of tea in front of him and another mug placed directly opposite from him, where she would usually sit.

They greeted each other with a simple morning and she walked over to him first, leaving a kiss on his cheek before settling in her seat, her hand reaching over the table for his. Then there was a quiet "Merry Christmas" and after that a comfortable silence followed.

The two didn't need to exchange words, they understood each other perfectly even without saying things out loud.

She wished every morning could be like this. She wished she'd never have to worry about a case going wrong again or him doing something reckless that would put his life in danger as he more often than not did. She wished she could freeze time and stay in that moment forever.

None of them heard the timer going off. Not when the smell of something burning filled the room.

It was still a wonder for George how Lockwood had managed to burn the toast.

"Did you know that Lockwood has a picture of you in his wallet?" Lucy asked, staring absent-mindendly at the ceiling while laying in her bed. "He does?" asked the girl who lay next to her, turning to look at her friend.

"Mhm" the redhead nodded. "I noticed it yesterday when we went grocery shopping together," she continued.

"That's a bit weird. To keep a picture of your girlfriend in your wallet" Y/n pointed out.

"I actually find it really romantic. It's like he wants to have a piece of you with him all the time. I didn't really believe it could happen outside of romance novels" Lucy shrugged. "Hm. Who knew Lockwood could be such a romantic. Don't tell him I told you though because he will refuse it."

"That he keeps a picture of me in his wallet or that you called him a romantic?" the other girl laughed.

"I was talking about the picture but I guess he would have the same reaction in both cases."

She never really knew what it was like to be in love. She didn't know how to expect it would feel. She didn't even know how one falls in love with another, so much that they would go to the ends of the earth and sacrifice both themselves and the world for the other person. She thought it was something that existed purely in books, novels that would keep her up all night. And even if it did, she thought that she would never find it. That it wasn’t for her.

She never believed that she would find the Mr. Darcy to her Elizabeth Bennet; she'd never meet someone who would give up becoming a god for her like Percy Jackson did for Annabeth Chase.

Or at least she didn't used to believe.

But in the end, she found everything she could have asked for and more in the face of Anthony Lockwood, first her best friend and now her lover.

And suddenly, she now understood why some lost their minds and others chose to fight the wars, and even why certain people spend their whole lives trying to put the feeling of loving someone in such a way into words.

Because really, no amount of words, no matter how many or meaningful they were, could ever even begin to describe how she felt for him.

#anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #lockwood and co netflix #lockwood and co #curseofhecate

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webslingingslasher · 1 year

Text

TLDR; too long, didn't read

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Genre: Fluffy, minor angst

Word Count: 10K

Summary: you're dyslexic and it runs your entire life. peter's just trying to help, but sometimes it's a bit too much.

this was requested, thank you, thank you.

“Here, read this and tell me what you think.”

You let out a breathy sigh, like you’ve been here, done that, and heard that a million times before. Actually, it's because you have. And not just by Peter, everyone in your life. Teachers, parents, even friends that just tried their best to help. It just never worked.

It never, ever clicked in your brain.

“Peter, we’ve been over this. I can’t read.”

Peter rolls his eyes, “Chill with the dramatics, you can read. I know you can read, did it last night for me.”

He’s right. The last few weeks since you’ve been extra struggling in English Lit he’s asked you to read to him every night, over the phone or in person.

You hate it.

Not reading to Peter, it’s just embarrassing for you. The pauses in sentences you have to take to clearly read the line, or the stuttering, or worse when Peter can guess what word you’re trying to say so he says the word slowly and calmly almost as if he’s sounding it out for you.

You know he does it with nothing but love, but sometimes you just feel dumb and ashamed, and it’s nothing you can solve.

“No, like, I really can’t read at all.”

Peter pokes at your arm with a pencil, “You just need a little extra time, it’s no big deal. You even crushed our short story last week, you only slipped up on three words!”

Your brain is fighting against you because you have visual dyslexia. Meaning that letters jumbled around in your brain and on the page. You’ve struggled since you were a kid, it’s gotten easier through the years. Lots of intervention, reading and writing has helped you slow down and sound out the words softly and slowly until you know it’s right.

“If I ask you something will you be totally honest?”

Peter is a fucking genius, it makes you distressed when he helps you with this. He is solving grad school equations and helping you sound out kindergarten words for fun, it doesn’t make sense.

“I don’t like the way that sounds so I’m withholding until I hear it.” He taps his chin with his pencil eraser.

You don’t know why you haven’t asked yet.

“Why are you dating me?”

Record scratch, Peter looks offended.

“Huh?” The pencil is slack in his grasp.

You backtrack a little, you know why he’s dating you but you don’t understand it. You can’t help but feel inferior to him booksmart wise.

“Well, I mean, you know.” You wince and shug with one arm, you divert your eyes to the page and start to slowly read out to him.

“Jill went over to George’s for tea and cakes, when the doorbell-”

Peter cut you off with his hand on your shoulder, you peered at him from the side.

“No, I don’t know. I’d like you to explain that question to me, please.” Where the hell was this coming from?

You huff and push the book away, “You’re smart and I’m not. Do you ever think to yourself, ‘God, I wish I had known she was an idiot before I tapped that’? It’s not your fault but I feel so below you and I can’t ever be you so like, what’s the fucking point.”

Peter doesn’t know where to begin.

You’re not an idiot, you’re not below him and he’s so glad you’re not him. He also doesn’t like that ‘tapped it’ comment.

“Is that how you always feel?” Has he done a bad job of lifting you up?

You shrug, then nod.

“Jesus, Y/N.”

“I’m dating you because you’re lovely, you’re funny and despite what you believe, smart. You crush vocab like no other cause even if you get tripped up by the words you always know what they mean. You’re a knowledge god in history and the best chemistry lab partner, I have never thought you were dumb, ever.”

You roll your eyes, it’s his job to tell you that you’re smart, it’s in the boyfriend duties journal.

“I’m sure if you knew I was dyslexic before we started to date you wouldn't have.”

Pause, Peter did know. You didn’t know he knew, he’s kept that from you. He didn’t want it to seem like he dated you out of pity or because he knew you needed extra help. He dated you because he was absolutely in love with you and needing a little extra reading comprehension skills wouldn’t ruin that.

“I did know.”

You raise your hand as he’s proven your point, “Exactly! I always knew-”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Did you just say you knew?”

Peter nods with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

“Wait, I’m being serious right now, Peter. You knew I was dyslexic?”

He breathes in deeply, “Well, I mean, I had an idea. I knew you had trouble reading sometimes and when you started leaving class during tests I knew.”

You poke your cheek with your tongue, “Interesting.”

“I only knew because I knew a kid named Ben in elementary who was dyslexic, and he would go to a different room during tests and they would ask him the questions out loud so he could understand it a bit better.”

“And you never said anything?”

“Because it didn’t matter to me, baby. I love you no matter what, this isn’t a big deal at all, really.”

And there it is, that’s the fallback line for him.

‘It doesn't matter, it isn’t a big deal.’

Except it was, and it really did fucking matter to you. Peter would never understand it unless he dealt with it, and he didn’t. And it’s not his fault at all, cause you know if the situation was flipped you would most likely say the same things. But this is a real disability you struggle with everyday all the time, it’s not like you had a problem with math that could be avoided until you had to do it again.

This was every text, every written page, every passage you read. Every street sign, absolutely everywhere you looked, it followed.

It controlled your life, and he would never understand that.

“It doesn’t matter to you, you mean.” You correct his wording, he doesn’t get it.

“Of course it doesn’t matter to me, you’re my genius girl, no matter what.” He winks then points at the page again, “Okay, so Jill and George?”

You felt defeated inside, what was the point of trying anymore? It would stick and stay no matter what and no matter how hard you tried to keep it under wraps, everyone would know.

—------------

“Alright, hot stuff. I got this book at the library and I think we should read it together. I heard it was good from Tiktok.”

You took the book from Peter’s hand and turned it over, the words jumbled immediately and you recoiled inside from the size of the book alone. It was massive, it would take you weeks if not months to read it through.

“Yeah, about that,” You trail, Peter sets his bag down and sits on your bed with a pillow in his lap.

“About what?” He pats the pillow, he’s calling for your head to rest there.

“The reading thing, I was thinking, do you think we could take turns?” You bit your lip and leaned back, his fingers tracing in your hair.

“Take turns what, reading?”

You nod, you also feel where you made a knot in the back of your hair from rubbing the fabric.

“Yeah, it would be like the sisterhood of the traveling book. I would read and then you would, it doesn’t have to be chapter by chapter but then it’s even.”

Peter untangles some knots gently, “We could, but I really love hearing you read to me.”

“Yeah, but you never read to me, and I love your voice.”

Peter laughs airily, “Yeah, but I don’t-”

He stopped, he caught himself.

Not good enough, you know what he meant.

You tilt your chin up to look at his face upside down, you narrow your eyes.

“Go on, say it.”

He shakes his head.

“No, really, Peter. I want you to say it.”

“It’s nothing, baby.”

You push yourself up and face him, you huff.

“I’m serious, I want you to say it to my face, right now.” You feel your face get warm, you were right when you brought this up last week, he does think you’re stupid.

Peter breathes out hard through his mouth, he knows he’s fucked up, and this was going to brew into a fight no matter how hard he tried to settle it right now. If he ignored you he would make it worse.

“Yeah, but I don’t need help like you do.”

You wince and hiss in through your teeth.

“Ouch. That hurt.”

You sit back in silence and pick up the book he brought over, you look it over once more. Even reading slowly things still got a little jumbled, you felt like you were out of place.

“Baby, look at me.”

You shake your head, “It’s okay, Peter.”

He grabs your arm, “No it’s not.”

You shake him off, “No, really. It’s okay.”

He sighs, “I didn’t-”

You cut him off, “You didn’t mean it like that, and you don’t think I’m dumb and I’m amazing and talented elsewhere, and needing extra reading time is fine and normal and you were just talking without thinking and you didn’t mean it.”

Peter gave you a small smile, “I feel like it would be better coming from my mouth, since I’m the one that said it, but yeah, you hit the nail on the head.”

You give the same smile back and pretend it’s fine.

But it’s not fine, it’s actually so far from fine you cried yourself to sleep. You cried all night looking at the numbered book spine from the library copy your boyfriend brought to you, the same book spine that let you know Peter did notice how slow and difficult things were. You started at the title until it was burned into your mind, everytime you blinked it was etched into the backs of your eyelids.

You stared at the book and cried and cried and cried until you decided you hated the book. You hated it so much you wanted to rip out its pages one by one until it ceased to exist. You wanted to flush it down the toilet and you wanted to drop it in a bucket of wet paint, you wanted it to be used as first pitch at the start of the baseball season, you wanted it to be banned from every corner of the world, you wanted Peter to take it back.

Peter said the worst thing he could’ve said, and it came with no effort. Like he thinks it all the time, you made up your mind right then you wouldn’t ever read to or with him again.

—----------------

You were getting more and more frustrated with Peter by the second, he wouldn’t shut the fuck up for twelve seconds. He just keeps going on, and on, and on about reading this and how “he’s thinking about how we could split up the pages and make it more fair, cause he does understand how it can seem unfair reading all alone to someone else, not to mention-”

You rub at your temples, “Are you my boyfriend or my tutor?”

Peter stops, “What?”

You keep rubbing to stop the oncoming headache, “Are you my boyfriend or my tutor?”

He looks confused, “Boyfriend, right?”

You laugh dryly, “Could have fooled me, professor.”

Peter doesn’t know what to say, he’s just trying to help, is he coming on too strong?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to throw this all on you. How do you feel about this, you read the first thirty pages and I’ll read the next fifty?”

You shove the book Peter placed in your hand into his chest, “I’m not reading the fucking book, Peter. If you want to read it so badly, do it yourself.”

Peter is genuinely speechless, he doesn’t think you’ve ever snapped at him like this.

All he can come up with is, “Huh?”

“You heard me,” You double down, “I’m not reading the damn thing, it’s your book, you read it.”

He shakes his head one more time, he’s thinking he’s got a concussion.

“What? Why?”

Because you vowed to never read to him again.

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Okay, that’s fair. I should’ve asked you, we can go to the library and you can pick out anything you want. Daddy will put it on his card.” He winks.

“Thanks, but I’m good.”

He pulls his head back and sets the book down, “If you don’t want to read today it’s fine, we can go get lunch, I know you’ve been begging me to take you to the new diner on 54th.”

You narrow your eyes and look him up and down, “Just lunch?”

He nods, “Unless you want to do something else, didn’t you say you wanted to see a movie?”

You grimace, “Next month.”

He grins, “Perfect, I’ll mark it on the calendar.”

—---------------

You frown looking at the menu, usually it was pretty easy guessing what things were off a quick glance from the pictures but this menu had no images.

It’s small accessibility things like that, that most people don’t think of, that make a world of a difference for someone that needs it.

You peer up at Peter across from you, his forehead and right eye are lit up from the sun peering in from the window, he’s sitting facing the door, like always. You asked him one time after he physically moved you when you tried to sit towards it, “I always want to see who’s coming in.” He claimed it was a safety thing, you didn’t mind. As long as you didn’t sit on the same side and you always got the booth side at a booth table combo table, you couldn’t care who sat where.

He has his lip pulled into his mouth, softly nibbling at the area. You wanted to pull it out because it always left an odd texture when you make out, you wanna ask him about the menu, to be sure. You also don’t want him to dote on you, make him read out the entire menu, just help fill in some words.

“Petey?” Start soft, he loves that name.

He flicks his eyes up and drops his lip from his teeth, “Yes, baby?”

You point to where you’re looking, he leans over the table to get a better look.

“Is that third word lettuce?”

Peter hums, “Correct.”

You grin, “Okay, thanks.”

Peter nods and goes back to looking, he’s already figured out what he wants but he knows it makes you flustered when he sits there while you're still trying to figure out what the first page says, so instead when you ask, “What are you getting?” He can say, “Hmm, I don’t know yet, I’m still looking,” You can let out a breath of release and not feel rushed to make a choice.

You make your way down the list, getting caught at one word. You read it slowly, even mouthing the word, you don’t think you’ve ever heard it before.

“Peter, under sandwiches, number 3, what the fuck is that last word? I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.”

He lets out a soft laugh, “It says arugula, baby.”

You squint and hold the plastic closer, “That’s how you spell it?”

“How did you think it was spelled?”

“Not like that.” You pull the menu away and continue the search.

“It’s a tricky one, you’re not wrong.” Peter looks over his choice a few more times, he feels like his mouth is watering.

“It’s a hate crime, actually.”

He chuckles and sets his menu down, “I chose, got any ideas?”

You scan over the menu quickly, if all else fails you trust Peter, you’ll have what he’s having.

“What are you getting?”

He raises his hands above his head and stretches, “Classic number seven.”

You waver the option in your head, “That does sound pretty good, actually.”

“Damn, I was betting on you getting seventeen.”

“I was thinking about that one, swear to god!”

Peter leans in like he’s making a great deal, for no one else to hear.

“Get it and we spit?”

You think, “Okay, you get half mine and I get half your fries.”

He holds out his hand to solidify the business deal.

“And maybe a bite or three of your burger.”

You stick your hand in his and shake it before he can process what you said and groans, not that he minds, you are giving him half your waffles.

When the plates are brought out Peter immediately hands you his burger, he will always allow the lady the first bite. Also because he will eat the entire thing in two. You take a bite and set it down, you pass your plate to him and he starts the trade.

He slides two waffles on his plate, and scoops more than half the fries on yours, then drizzles half the syrup but leaves all the butter for you, he also doesn’t touch the whipped cream even though you know he wants it more than you do, you reach over and take a strawberry off the side and dip it in the cream, you bite down and push it back. You’re telling him to take it, he grins with squinted eyes to show his appreciation.

You pick his meal up and bite again, working on swallowing you pass it back. Peter eyes it as you work through chewing, “You sure?” You nod, just as he goes to take it you say, “Actually, sorry,” Then take one more, you almost regret not going with his. Until you take a bite of the waffles and you melt, they are the best damn things you’ve ever had.

—-----------

“I swear you aren’t even trying anymore!”

Peter was defeated, you didn’t care. He has tried everything to get you to work with him this past week, especially since you bombed an English quiz. You have done nothing, you absolutely refused to read to him, to do any practice work, to read to yourself, to study, nothing to do with reading in the slightest.

You were caught, and maybe a tiny glad he noticed. It just felt pointless, you would always struggle and no matter what Peter told you, feel like a burden. Like everyone had to help you with everything, it wasn’t Peter’s job to make sure you were reading and passing vocab and working on letter recognition, it was your job and you just didn’t care for it anymore.

You just shrug carelessly back, you have to look away. His stare of disappointment is making self guilt rise quickly.

Peter pulls back a little, he sounds lost. His voice is calm, “Hey, you didn’t give up did you?”

You shake your leg, why do you feel like crying right now?

Peter squats to get eye level with you, he places his hand on your knee to steady it.

He shakes his head like he can’t understand where you’re coming from at all.

“Hey, c’mon. Don’t do this, don’t do this to yourself. You worked too hard to just give up, you’ve gotten yourself here, right?”

You nod trying to keep from crying, it doesn’t work. Your lower lip trembles and Peter immediately scoops you into his chest and pats your hair as you sob into him. He’s right, you’re hurting no one but yourself but it’s impossible to feel like it’s a never ending process. It feels like you’re walking in quicksand, you’re pacing yourself but it feels like nothing is changing.

“I’m sorry,” You repeat into his shirt over and over, he shushes you, “You have no reason to be sorry.”

When you calm you pull away, he presses a kiss to your forehead and wipes away any stray tears.

“Wanna tell me what’s up?”

“I just, I’m done, Peter. I am so fucking done, this is so stupid and it makes me feel stupid. And I know it’s not my fault but it is because my brain fucked me over so hard. I am always playing catch-up and it never, ever ends. I am constantly working towards something that will never get fixed. I keep telling myself if I pass this test, or if I read half a chapter with no struggles it’s gone, but I know it's a lie. It’s such a lie because I’ll be like this forever.”

You start to cry again but stop yourself with a few deep breaths, “It will never get better, so why am I trying?”

Peter nods, he’s not agreeing, he’s listening. He understands what you mean, he understands the frustration. He wants to tell you it’s not dumb, and it’s not for nothing but he needs to focus on you being okay first.

“Okay, okay.” He pulls you in tightly and rests his chin on your head.

“It sounds like you need a break, baby. You’ve been working yourself too hard, and I probably haven’t been helping that. Let’s take a week off, huh? No reading, no questions, no studying, nothing. Just call it quits on words this week, that sound good to you?”

You nod into his chest and rub your nose against his shirt, an entire week with nothing about dyslexia sounds like just the break you needed.

“Good, now let me see your pretty face.” You pull from him and grin, he smiles brightly at you, “There’s my girl,” He cups your face and brings you in for a kiss, you lean into it and raise on your toes a little bit to get closer.

When Peter breaks away he rubs his thumb on your cheek until your eyes flutter open.

“I love you, you know that, right?” He whispers the words, delicate between you two.

You nod and lean up for a peck, “I love you too, and I appreciate you a lot.”

He winks, “As long as you acknowledge it.”

You groan as he moves away, he smacks your butt and points to his bed. You bounce down and watch as he grabs the book he checked out from the library, it hasn’t even been opened yet. You wait until he sits next to you and gets comfortable, he pats his chest to let you know it’s ready for you to rest your head.

“Petey, you just said no reading for a week.”

He nods, “I did. I said you wouldn’t read. You also said I never read to you, so, I think we can swap roles, what do you say?”

You grin and settle down next to him and rub your cheek into his chest, “Love it, genius idea from my genius boy!”

Peter kisses the top of your head and cracks the book open to the first page.

“Chapter one, Jenna is going to die. Well, actually, everyone dies, but Jenna is going to die first, then Sara, then Amberlynn, and finally Jesse. The boy Jesse, not the girl, she doesn’t die, not yet anyways.”

—---------------

You squint one eye open and bring the pillow over your ears trying to drown out the noise from the kitchen. Your boyfriend is going absolutely ham, singing from his entire being he has drowned out all the noise from the apartment.

You focus on the music and his wailing, you concentrate and the song clicks. You look around the room and mutter to yourself, “Is he singing fucking Cher?”

It didn’t end there, the rest of the week he was constantly playing Cher. You didn’t even know he liked her like that, and he’s been acting odd all week.

He asked you to watch almost every Robin Williams movie with him, and then begged you to watch The View with him, the entertainment news, because Whoopi Goldburg was awesome. You questioned him but gave in, it was odd sure but so was he, so you reckon nothing was terribly out of the ordinary.

Last night he turned off a Cher cd to turn on the TV, he watched the screen like a hawk. You blinked and looked around, “Why are we watching Anderson Cooper in Al Qaeda?” Peter threw his head back at you, “Why aren’t we watching Anderson Cooper in Al- Qaeda?”

You hummed in response, “Tushe.”

It all made sense today, the weird antics he’s put you through the past week.

“Babe, what do you think of Cher?”

You furrow your eyebrows, “I mean, I’m not a huge fan but I like her stuff a whole lot more when you sing it.”

“Aw, thanks. How do you feel about Robin Williams?”

“Actor god, one of the best from our lifetime. Every line he has is delivered perfectly.”

“Anderson Cooper?”

“He looks weird, like he has the same energy as an albino elephant. But he’s a damn good journalist, so no complaints.”

“Whoopi Goldberg?”

“Comedic genius. What’s with the questions?”

He ignores you, “Picasso?”

“A great artist.”

“Octavia Spencer?”

You gasp, “I love her.”

He tries for one more, “Albert Einstein?”

“A genius. Smartest man in the world, smartest man to exist. With the exception of ancient Greece.”

Peter hummed, content with all your answers.

“You know what you have in common with all of those people?”

You snort, “No, what?”

He looks at you, “They’re all dyslexic.”

You drop your jaw, “No?”

He nods, “Cher struggled growing up, her’s were numbers. Robin Williams got words mixed up, he used to day “Trick or Trout” as a kid. Anderson Cooper struggled his entire life until he spoke up about it, with reading specialists and intervention he got through high school, then went to Yale. Whoopi Goldberg says her advantage is that she can see things differently, and it’s more interesting than how other people see it, and that she really hated growing up that no one saw her as smart, she was. She just saw everything differently.”

You were speechless, you just looked at the ground and blinked, these great, amazing people all struggled with what you did. Celebrities, they're just like you!

“I’m not done. Picasso would flip things around, make art of how his brain saw things. Octavia Spencer struggled with reading out loud, but she was smarter in other places. She would crush mazes and had incredible deductive reasoning. She even wrote two books all by herself, with dyslexia. And Einstein? They thought he was a dumb boy and nothing more because he was so bad with reading and writing, and claimed that words or language, as they are written or spoken don’t play a role in his mechanism of thought. He said that imagination means more than knowledge. Knowledge is limited, imagination encircles the world.”

“It’s possible, Y/N. It’s okay to get frustrated, it’s okay to take a break but you also have to push through. And it’s not fair, and I don’t know what it’s like for you everyday. But, it’s possible to move on and get a good job, and go to a good college, and struggle less and less along the way. It’s always going to be there, and if I could take that from you sweetheart, I would. But it’s a part of you, and I love that part of you.”

“You do?” You whisper.

“Of course I do! You’re my girl, and if we have kids and you pass it along then it’s no biggie. Cause they’ll look at their mom and see her living a kick ass life with a disability. It’s all about how you let it define you, I know you see this as never ending but it gets better and easier, it just takes time. I know you hated it, but when you read to me every night I could see you change, you got more confident the more you did it, because you were recognizing words and didn’t freeze over them.”

“I did?”

“Yes! Remember how excited you were when I told you that you went three pages without questioning a word? We set that as a new record, when we first started you would barely make it through a paragraph.”

“Will you do it with me?”

If you needed to believe in yourself then you needed Peter, because he always believed in you even when you couldn’t understand why.

“Do what?”

“Be there for me, let me read to you and help me with word recognition and help me figure out where I’m smart for a boost of confidence.”

“I’m here for you, baby. No matter what, alright? I would love to help you figure this out, we’re life partners, right?”

“Right.” You grin at him and he exclaims, “Oh, I got one! Puzzles!” He crouches to pull a box from under the coffee table, “You’re great at puzzles, we can do one together and I’ll cry when you piece it together in an hour.”

You take the box and hold it against your chest, “Actually, can I read you a chapter of that book? I kinda want to see how Amberlynn dies.”

“At the rate you read it’ll really build the suspense.”

You narrow your eyes, “Thin ice, Parker. Thin ice.”

He raises his hands up in surrender and you grab the book and point for him to sit down, you sit next to him and clear your throat. You take a deep breath and open to the page with a bookmark poking out, you hesitate but ignore your thoughts and start reading, and you go until you can’t stand it anymore.

You turn to see Peter looking at you with the biggest smile you’ve seen from him.

“What?”

He shakes his head, “Not one, Y/N. Not one slip up.”

#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker blurb #peter parker angst #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter parker fic #tasm!peter fluff #peter parker fluff #peter parker fic #mcu peter parker #my writing

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thecoleopterawithana · 6 months

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Even though John is under-powered in this period we still see what made him so magnetic to Paul and to others around him. There is a scene early in Part Two that I find riveting. It takes place a couple of days after George has left. The status of everything - the project, the band - remains uncertain, but they are ploughing on for now. John, Yoko, Ringo, Paul and some of the crew are sitting in a semi-circle. Paul looks pensive. Ringo looks tired. John is speaking only in deadpan comic riffs, to which Paul responds now and again. Peter Sellers comes in and sits down, looks ill-at-ease, and leaves having barely said a word, unable to penetrate the Beatle bubble. At some point they’re joined by Lindsay-Hogg, and the conversation dribbles on. John mentions that he had to leave an interview that morning in order to throw up (he and Yoko had taken heroin the night before). Paul, looking into space rather than addressing anyone in particular, attempts to turn the conversation towards what they’re meant to be doing:

Paul: See, what we need is a serious program of work. Not an endless rambling among the canyons of your mind.

John: Take me on that trip upon that golden ship of shores… We’re all together, boy.

Paul: To wander aimlessly is very unswinging. Unhip.

John: And when I touch you, I feel happy inside. I can’t hide, I can’t hide. [pause] Ask me why, I’ll say I love you.

Paul: What we need is a schedule.

John: A garden schedule.

I mean first of all, who is writing this incredible dialogue? Samuel Beckett?

Let’s break it down a little. The first thing to note is that John and Paul are talking to each other without talking to each other. This is partly because they’re aware of the cameras and also because they’re just not sure how to communicate with each other at the moment. John’s contributions are oblique, gnomic, riddling, comprised only of songs and jokes, like the Fool in King Lear. Take me on that trip upon that golden ship of shores sounds like a Lennonised version of a line from Dylan’s Tambourine Man (“take me on a trip upon your magic swirling ship”). “We’re altogether, boy”? I have no idea. Does Paul? I think John expects Paul to understand him because he has such faith in what they used to call their “heightened awareness”, a dreamlike, automatic connection to each other’s minds. But right now, Paul is not much in the mood for it. His speech is more direct, though he too adopts a quasi-poetic mode (“canyons of your mind” is borrowed from a song by the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band) and he can’t bring himself to make eye contact. “To wander aimlessly is very unswinging,” he says (another great line, I will pin it above my writing desk). Then John does something amazing: he starts talking in Beatle, dropping in lyrics from the early years of the band, I Want To Hold Your Hand and Ask Me Why. (To appreciate John’s response to Paul’s mention of a schedule, American readers may need reminding that English people pronounce it “shed - dule”.)

What’s going on throughout this exchange? Maybe Lennon is just filling dead air, or playing to the gallery, but I think he is (also) attempting to communicate to Paul in their shared code - something like he loves him, he loves The Beatles, they’re still in this together. Of course, we can’t know. I can’t hide, John says, hiding behind his wordplay.

— Ian Leslie, "The Banality of Genius: Notes on Peter Jackson's Get Back" (January 26, 2022).

[I was curious to read more of Ian Leslie's approach to the Beatles in general and Lennon-McCartney in particular, since he's currently writing a book about John and Paul's relationship: “John and Paul: A Love Story in Songs". He's also the author of that New York Times opinion piece that came out today.]

#The Beatles #John Lennon #Paul McCartney #Get Back sessions #the person i actually picked as my partner #johnny #macca #I Want to Hold Your Hand #Tell Me Why #But I could never speak my mind #As we share in each other's minds #quote #my stuff #That Paul and John business

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ughgoaway · 5 months

Text

we went to winter wonderland // day 2

content warnings; swearing maybe? I think that's it??

a/n; day 2!!! I have only been to Winter Wonderland like once, so if this is inaccurate... oops! but I did have a good time despite it being a bit shit, which is how I felt writing this fic too lol. also I did use a quote in here I saw online, but I can not for the life of me find who wrote it, as soon as I do, I will edit this and credit them!!! <3

word count; 2k

(this fic takes place pre-relationship)

12 days masterlist

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

“Alexa! Play Daddy's song!!” Matty hears his daughter shouting at the Alexa from the kitchen. He smirks to himself once he understands what she means.

Matty was careful what songs he showed Annie, knowing she was at the age of endless questions, and he didn't exactly feel like explaining the intricacies of some of his songs.

But last week, Matty had to run into a meeting and left Annie in the studio with Ross and George. As they sat there and planned the setlist, any time Annie heard the title of a song she didn't know, she would pipe up and say, “What does that one sound like?” and either George or Ross would play a small bit of the song. When Me and You Together song was brought up, they thought it was about as harmless as 75 songs can get, so they played the whole song for her.

They watched her eyes light up as the song played, and by the end, she was dancing around the room with them both and singing along, but once it stopped, she asked for it again. And again. And again. Now it was a week later, and Matty was sick of the sound of his own voice, which is not something he thought was possible.

As Matty strolls into the front room to see Annie looking grumpy at the Alexa for not understanding her request, he scoops her up and sits on the sofa with her on his lap. She shrieks as he picks her up and crosses her arms over her chest once she's sat down.

“Annie, sweetheart, im so glad you like my song, but im not sure we need to listen to it again,” Matty says gently, trying not to upset his daughter. Annie huffs in his lap and immediately pouts, and it almost breaks him. But he manages to stay strong.

“Why don't we do something else instead, hmm? You could show me some of your new toys? We can even play Barbies if you like?” Matty says, trying to bargain with Annie. He wasn't very good at the whole discipline side of parenting. But how could he be when Annie gives him those puppy dog eyes and a shaky bottom lip?

But before either of those comes out, her face lights up with an idea, and Matty knows that doesn't bode well. “Okay, we can stop listening to my most favourite song if we can go to Winter Wonderland like it says!!” Annie says, stressing most favourite in an attempt to guilt trip her dad, and it works.

They had gone to Winter Wonderland last year, and Annie had the time of her life. Some of the kiddy rides made Matty feel his age though, and after a 3rd go on the teacups, he had to sit stationary for a good 15 minutes. Despite that, that day was one of Matty's favourite days with Annie, seeing her face brighten at the rides and all the people, watching her sit on Santa's lap and ask him for a new dog, “my doggy mayhem needs a friend!!” but nothing compared to their trip on the Ferris wheel.

Watching the skyline of London reflect in her eyes was a sight Matty would never forget, her giddiness as she tried to spot their house (she insisted she found it, and who is Matty to disagree?) and the different colours of light slide over her ecstatic face. The purple and pink lights shining in her wide eyes as she stared at the people below giggling was the highlight of his Christmas.

Annie sat on his lap as they went down on the wheel, and before they even reached the bottom, she was fast asleep in his arms. Watching her eyes flutter on the train home made Matty's heart swell in a new way. He didn't think he could love something this much.

So when she asked, Matty couldn't help but nod his head and get attacked with hugs and squeals.

////////////////////

The sun had gone down about 20 minutes ago, and Annie was determined it was now time to go on the Ferris wheel, “I need to see all the pretty lights, Daddy!” she says, dragging Matty over to the queue.

Matty laughed and followed behind her. A giant stuffed bear obstructed his view slightly, but he blindly trusted Annie's directions. After a long day of rides and fairground games, Matty wouldn't mind a gentle spin around the Ferris wheel.

Little did he know you were thinking the exact same thing, only a few people ahead of him in the queue.

You hadn't planned to go to Winter Wonderland that day, not even thinking about it before you were in central London. But on the tube, you saw a poster and suddenly felt drawn to it. The hustle and bustle of people and the decorations were sure to make you feel a bit less shit.

You couldn't go to Christmas at home this year, not being able to travel due to severe weather warnings, so you went up to your mum's house a few weeks before for an early Christmas dinner. It sounded like a good idea at the time, but how wrong you were.

The whole family was invited, and you were inundated with questions about a significant other, “Oh do you have a boyfriend yet love?”

And then, having to cope with the sad eyes and the pity after you say no, “Oh don't worry, sweetheart. It'll happen for you eventually.”

They all said the same thing, pity followed by an attempted set-up, “Actually… if you're still single, there's a lovely young man I work with that would be perfect for you!”

And thus the spiel began, describing a man who you're sure is nice enough but definitely wasn't perfect for you. Even if he was, you couldn't date right now anyway. You were well and truly stuck on Matty.

You can't think of anyone else. Your head is full of him. Your heart is full of him. You think of him when you wake up, what he's doing right now. Whether he's making breakfast for Annie, or maybe if he's at the studio already. Throughout the day, small things remind you of him. The guitar that sits in the corner of your room, an abandoned attempt at a hobby, now sat as nothing but a reminder of the man you were violently in love with. You turned on the radio each day to distract yourself, but now something as basic as music has you yearning for him. One day, as you were getting ready to go out, one of his songs came on, and you froze on the spot. You didn't end up going out that day. You stayed home and ached over a man who you could never have.

The worst time was at night. You lay in bed staring at the ceiling, the ticking of the clock teasing you. Reminding you that each minute you don't sleep translates to an hour of grumpiness tomorrow morning. But you couldn't help it. Your mind was swimming in him. You thought of lying in bed together, chatting, and giggling. And falling asleep in his arms. You'd be able to listen to his heartbeat rather than the tick tok of that fucking clock.

So you lie, you say to your aunts, “Oh I don't need romance! Im perfectly happy.” But you say you don't need love like a woman on a diet says she doesn't want dessert, you long for it but you don't think you deserve it.

To try and distract yourself, you dragged yourself out of bed and into central London. The poster convinced you, and soon enough, you were standing in front of Hyde Park with a ticket booked.

For a solo adult, you had a pretty fun day, going around to all the stalls and buying unnecessary treats for you and your loved ones. You ate some overpriced food and went on a few rides. But you were waiting until the sun had set for your favourite activity, the Ferris wheel.

You get loaded onto a carriage, and you hear the ride operator ushering more people on saying, “There's only one in here so you two can join her, okay?” You keep focused on the view outside, not too worried about who you're going to be spending the trip around with.

That was until the door shut, and you heard a breathy voice say, “Hi.”

Why do you recognise that voice? Oh- OH. you turn, and you're met with the same pair of eyes that run through your mind all night, the same eyes that seem to follow you wherever you go.

A few hard blinks later, you assure yourself you're not dreaming, that is Matty Healy standing in front of you with a bear almost the same size as his daughter.

Speaking of his daughter, you catch her in your arms moments later, Annie had thrown herself in to hug you; clearly over the moon with your presence.

“Well hi guys!” You say, somehow managing to keep your voice even, “So nice to see you both” Your eyes flick from Annie's up to Matty, who simply nods, dumbfounded.

You make a slightly awkward conversation with the two of them, both you and Matty reeling from the surprise encounter. But Annie wasn't phased, easily recounting her whole day to you and laughing when she detailed how ill Matty got on the teacups.

“In my defence,” Matty says, already smiling at your poorly suppressed giggles, “they spin really fast, okay! Im getting too old for teacups,” he says with a flick of his hand.

Just as you say, “No!” Annie says, “Yes! Too olddddd” dragging out the last letter. All of you burst out laughing, Matty gives Annie a pinch and calls her cheeky.

Once you reached the top, you, Matty, and Annie all quieted down and stared out at the view, all immersed in the London skyline sparkling back at you. Annie stood below you with her face pressed into the window as you and Matty had a quiet conversation.

“I always wait until it's dark to come up here, I love the lights too much to come up during the day” you whisper to Matty.

You don't turn your head to face him until the silence is too much, and you almost jump when you see him already looking at you.

But all Matty wanted to do was look at you. The way the lights glittered in your eyes, your smile as they flicked over the view. The way you squinted and leaned in closer, trying to figure out what landmark you were looking at. He especially loved the way your hand was subconsciously stroking Annie's back the whole time.

He felt like a real fucking family. And god, it hurt.

Nevertheless, he couldn't stop staring at you, willing to endure any pain if it meant he could continue living in this delusion he had created.

Any beautiful view was lost on the two of you now, just staring at each other with dopey smiles on your faces. Tracing each feature with your eyes, desperate to memorise this. To live it over and over again.

Annie tugged at her dad's leg, and that finally pulled his attention back. You were nearly at the bottom of the wheel, and Annie's eyes were heavy with sleep. She rubbed at her face with closed fists and then stuck her arms up. Matty immediately scooped her up and held her close, letting her eyes shut and resting her head on his shoulder. She was falling asleep in a matter of seconds.

Neither of you spoke on the small remainder of the journey, not wanting to wake her up. But as he walked off trying to balance both Annie and the bear, Matty gave you a small smile and a wave. You did the same and walked in the opposite direction.

That night, it wasn't just you staring at your ceiling. Matty was up until 3 am watching the moonlight dance and fantasising about the life he had for 10 minutes. A life with you.

#christmas75 #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fic #teacher au!#i am unsure about this fic but thats not a new development #m&yts remains one of their best songs

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user2772636 · 2 months

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Douzième Fille

12th girl

××《☆》××

Callum returns, and Joseph is not so happy about it. A rainy night with forgotten gashes makes you think about a certain "friendship." Eavesdropping hurts a lot more than you thought.

===

Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warning: jealousy, love triangle, extreme fluff, angst (surprise!!!), miscommunication

===

Chapter five: You Know Where To Find Me, and I Know Where To Look

===

Pattering against cobblestone roads are heard when students walk to their respective schools. Chatter about oncoming rain fills the air, their umbrellas held steadily in their hands.

A familiar clear umbrella is wrapped around my fingers, subtly hitting the ground as I walk, legs a bit heavy from being tired.

Long strided footsteps behind me, I recognise his smell immediately.

"Good morning, Joseph." I don't even look behind me to greet him. He pops up on the left of my peripherals.

"Good morning, Y/N. Need some help?" His voice is deep, but cheery. It's comforting. I nod.

"I'm too tired this morning. I was up all night because I thought George went missing. The whole time, he was just hiding in my laundry basket." A small laugh erupts from him.

"I knew he was mischievous from the start."

"That's why you yelped when you first saw him?" I tease, recalling that afternoon.

"We're not talking about that." He half glares at me through his squinted eyes, then he smiles.

We stay quiet, somewhat awkward, somewhat comfortable. Once we're almost near the gate, he stops.

"Um, I think I'll see you later." He's looking towards the school, most probably his friends.

"Oh, okay." I say, a bit disappointed.

He looks at me with eyebrows furrowed in worry. He looks back at the school, then at me again. He sighs deeply.

He grabs my arm gently and pulls me off to a half hidden area. I look up, confused.

"What are you doing?" He's looking at me like he's about to do something. He doesn't.

"Meet me later in front of your place? I promise, we'll hang out by then." His breathing is quiet, but so obviously erratic against his chest. I place a hand on it, trying to calm him down. He relaxes, only a tad bit.

"Sure. Where are you taking me?" He relaxes even more, and a smile pops into his face.

"That's a secret. See you later." He kisses my cheek, and I'm stunned in my place, hearing his retreating footsteps fade away from distance.

Friendly kiss. Friendly goodbye. Yup.

I feel my legs waver under me, and I try to keep myself composed. What has he done to me? Done so little with so much damage. If you could even call it damage.

I thankfully make it through the gate without tripping on my feet. I meet with the girls and start the day.

××《☆》××

When the school bells finally ring, I make my way outside.

Joseph is leaning against the gate, fingers fidgeting with his lit up cigarette. He turns his head and sees me, getting one last hit before dropping it and crushing it with his foot.

He smiles wider than he usually does, or maybe I only noticed it now. I make my way over, but before I said hi, a familiar mint blue thunderbird pulls up in the parking lot.

Joseph turns his head to see what I was looking at, and his smile drops. He clenches his jaw. He always does that when Callum's around. I don't know why.

I slowly start to walk towards Joseph again, but he doesn't look back at me, keeping a steady eye on the boy exiting the car. I look at Callum, and I smile as a greeting.

Callum returns it with a wave, making his way over, cigarette between his lips. As he walks up the curve, he pinches the tip of his cigarette and flicks it off with his hand.

I get engulfed in a hug, lifting me up from the ground. I yelp as I feel myself spin in the air, and I get down with a laugh.

"You're rather happy today." I say, my hands on Callum's arms for support. He holds my elbows.

"Well, that's your effect." I flush at the compliment, giggling quietly. I turn around, catching Joseph rolling his eye. It's awkward now.

"Um, Callum. You know Joseph." I walk to Joseph's side, nudging him a bit.

"Well, yes. He was quite... charming." Callum's smile falters. He reaches out a hand.

"Good to see you again." Callum purses his lips, and Joseph clenches his jaw. Is there something wrong with his jaw?

"Same with you. How's life been?" Joseph raises his brows and clutches Callum's hand. Callum tigthens his grip, same does Joseph.

"Better with my girl around." Callum nods his head towards me with a smile. I blush behind Joseph. And I thought Joseph's grip was already tight on Callum's hand. He grips even tighter.

"Well, she's not exactly your girl, is she?"

"She's my model. 'Course she's my girl."

"Hm. Well then I don't appreciate when you call my girl yours." They're still grilling eachothers hand. I see their knuckles whiten.

"Well, she's not exactly your girl, is she?" Callum mocks Joseph's words. Joseph stays silent, letting go of Callum's hand to wrap around my shoulders.

I clear my throat, trying to ease the tension.

"So, Callum. What brings you here?" I fidget with my fingers.

"Well, I wanted to take you on a ride since you loved the last one." His eyes glance at Joseph's reaction then back on me.

"Oh, I completely forgot." Joseph turns his head to me, a confused look on his face.

"You're not gonna blow me off just because of this... guy, right?"

"Of course not. I'm taking you with me."

The boys go quiet, going on a silent staring contest. Both their eyes are dark. I feel myself shiver.

"Please?" I see both of them soften, looking towards me.

"Of course, Y/N. Anything for you."

"Sure, Y/N. Just for you."

They spoke at the same time. They turned their heads and went back to glaring at each other. I grab both their hands and lead them to the car.

"So Callum, where are we headed?" I ask, glancing at him but keeping a close stance near Joseph. I feel a hand hover on the small of my back.

"I was thinking we'd go to the fields. You said you wanted to come back there, right?" I nod ferociously. It was a really nice field. There was tall grass and a hill with a tree that overlooked the area.

"Joseph, you'll love it there, I swear." I look up to Joseph, and he's already looking at me with a small smile on his face. He simply nods, seemingly distracted. I turn back to Callum. He also seems distracted but still looking at me. I furrow my eyebrows at their behaviour.

"Let's go?" Callum gets out of some trance and opens the door for me. I get in the passenger seat, Callum in the driver's, leaving Joseph in the back.

Joseph sits right behind me, leaning over to reduce the distance between us. Callum starts to drive.

"I packed up some food, but it's only good for two so..." Callum looks up at the rear view mirror, looking at Joseph. "Sorry, Joseph."

"It's okay, I'll share mine with him." I smile at Callum, then turn around to be met with Joseph smiling at me. His face is really close. I didn't notice the specks of green in his eye till now. He smelled really nice, too, aside from the cigarette smell that flows through the car, obviously coming from both boys.

Teasingly, I bump my nose to his and giggle. He turns red and still. His eye glances down on my lips, and I find myself doing the same thing. He leans in, and the car bumps up. I fall back on my seat with a huff.

"What happened?" I asked Callum, worried he hit something. I put my hand over his on top of the clutch for stability.

"Just a bump on the road, is all. I didn't hit anything, promise." Callum looks at me, then back at the road. He laces his fingers with mine, and I flush in my seat, not knowing what to do.

I don't notice the way Joseph looked. Hurt, confused, jealous, and angry.

We come to a slow stop, and I immediately let go of Callum's hand to get out of the car and run to the hill on the field.

"Come on!" I shout out to the boys. I watch as they come up, Callum with a basket in hand, and Joseph smiling mischievously at the other boy, not helping him one bit.

Joseph gets to me and wraps an arm around my shoulders, planting multiple kisses on my hair. I laugh, trying to get rid of his arm even if I didn't really want to.

××《☆》××

We lie under a tree, me reading a book that Callum had lent to me (he brought it with him because he knew I'd like it), Joseph next to me, one arm propping him up, his hand keeping his head steady, and Callum with his head on my shoulder, reading the book, too.

I felt a finger brush my hip. I thought nothing of it. Until it started soothingly going up and down. I relax, almost dropping the book. I glance at Joseph, smiling a bit. He smiles back, leaning down to plant a kiss on my forehead.

Callum glares at the other boy, then suddenly kisses my shoulder and whispers in my ear. "I really am sorry."

I feel a finger jut against my waist, and I yelp. He starts to tickle me, and I laugh as I push him away, leaving me breathless. As I push him, he grabs my shoulder and brings me with him, making us roll down the hill. It was only a small hill, so it didn't take long for us to stop spinning.

I land on top of him, heaving for a breath with a smile on my face. Callum looks up at me with a smile, catching his breath, too. He leans in, but I get up quickly before anything happens. He does the same, somewhat hesitantly.

I see Joseph run down the hill and come straight towards me. He gently grabs my arms, checking for injuries. He spots some small gashes on my elbows, and his vision goes red.

"Are you fucking dumb? She's got gashes on her because of you now!" Joseph pushes Callum back with force, Callum stumbling a bit.

"She's fine. There's no need to be such a fucking wuss about it." Callum pushes Joseph back. I grab Joseph before he could do anything.

"It's fine, Joseph. Really. Just a bit of fun is all."

"But you're hurt." His voice cracks, and my heart stumbles.

"I'm fine. I promise." I cup his cheek, and he leans on it, holding my hand with his.

I caress his cheek, then let go hesitantly before going to Callum.

"Are you okay? Need some cleaning up?" Callum shakes his head.

"I'm alright, darling. I can take care of myself." I nod in response.

"I think I should get home. You two should, too. And for the love of god, please stop fighting." I furrow my brows at both of them, a bit disappointed.

As I walk away, I think to myself. They're my friends, and I at least wanted them to get along. But they aren't. And I don't know what to do, what to feel, how to react. I sigh. I'm way too tired for this.

××《☆》××

The sun was setting now, the dark already illuminating the other side of the sky. I look out the window, ignoring both of them. We stop at my flat, and I get out. Joseph does, too. I go around the car, leaning down to Callum's window.

"You'll be good driving?"

"I always am." There's a sly smirk on his face, but tired.

"Have a safe drive home anyway. I'll see you soon?"

"See you soon." There's a sort of sad smile on his face. I kiss his cheek, but he might've taken it for something else.

"Good night, Callum." I whisper gently, then back away, walking up to my flat. Callum drives off. I notice Joseph.

"Wanna come in?" He nods.

I let him in my flat, and as soon as I close the door, rain starts pattering against the windows.

"Good thing we got in before we got soaked." I reach my hand out for his coat. He takes it off slowly, walking towards me in a calculated pace. I gulp down a feeling.

His stare is tired, as well as his frame. He hovers over me as he hands me his coat, his head tilted a bit.

He leans in to put his forehead against mine, and I take a breath in, then slowly breathe out.

I place the coat to hang on my arm, my hand going up to caress his back. I feel the air from his nose hitting my lips.

His eye is shut, and I admire the way he looks. He seems to relax, to really show how drained he is from the day.

I begin to imagine if this is what it'll be like when we're grown. He could be coming back from work or going out with his friends, and I'd still welcome him back with open arms and a warm heart.

"I'm tired." His voice is low as he speaks, hand going up to caress my arms. His lashes lay on his under eye as his lid remained shut.

"Wanna go to bed?" He nods, and his nose bumps into mine.

I lean away, and he kisses my head. I take hold of his hand, leading him to my room. I guess he's got the place memorised already because even with his eye closed, he walked through the halls with no stumble in his step.

I let him sit, my fingers combing through his hair as I stood in front of his slouched frame. The rain patters softly.

"I'm gonna get you some clothes. Stay awake for a little while more, okay?" He nods, taking hold of my hand and kissing my palm.

My heart beats in my chest as I walk into my parents' room, going to borrow my father's sleep clothes. Joseph is a good friend. A great one. So why is he the first person that comes to mind when I think of my future? Or when I'm daydreaming, or when I'm thinking of what to do for the rest of the day?

He's just a friend. The thought disappoints me, and I don't know why.

I come back to the room with clothes in my hand, and Joseph is stirring away in his place, eager to stay up because I told him to. I place the clothes on his lap, telling him to use my bathroom. He gets up tiredly from his place on the bed, feet thudding against the floor, and then the door creaks as he shuts it.

I take this time to change, too. I open my closet and grab the most presentable sleep clothes I owned. It was a bit revealing, but the others were worse, so I opted for this one.

It was a nice set. Pink silk with lace and spaghetti straps. The top reached down to my hips, the shorts high on my thighs. There was a tiny bow on the front, and the neckline was low, but not too low. It wasn't tight, quite flowy, actually.

Just as I was putting the top on, Joseph came out of the bathroom. He's rubbing at his eye, and then he stops at the sight of me. He makes his way over, painfully slowly, might I add, and wraps his arm around my waist. He leads me to the bed, making me lie next to the wall, and him at the end of the bed.

He lifts the blanket on both of us. Then he pauses. Though he's tired and his eye is almost shut, I see a sense of worry in them.

"Something wrong?" I ask, yawning.

"I have to take my eyepatch off." He sighs deeply. I nod.

"I can do it for you."

"Yeah?" I hum in response.

"You won't think I'm..." He trails off, but I caught on the idea.

"No. Never." He scans my face, then nods slowly.

I lift my hands up, cupping his face. He exhales softly. My fingers brush the strap of the leather eyepatch, and I slowly slip it off. There were stitches visible, and tears filled my eyes, images of when it happened coming back to me. I keep myself composed and caress his face.

"Is it still sensitive?"

"Not really."

"Can I... do something?"

"Sure." There was no hesitation in his voice. "I trust you."

I lean in, kissing the scar gently. His breath shakes, and I worry to ask him if I had done something wrong when he kisses my palm, then my wrist, then my shoulder, kissing my collarbone as he tucks his head in the crook of my neck. I shiver at the affection but accept it silently.

His kisses go up to my chin, skipping my lips, kissing my nose, my forehead, propping his jaw on top of my head. I feel warm all over, comfortable.

"Good night, Joseph."

"Good night, Y/N."

The bedside lamp stays on, and the rain continues to tap against the window.

××《☆》××

Meows and purrs are heard when I wake. I hear shushing as well, but discard the thought, my tired mind assuming it was just George.

"You'll wake her." A man whispers. I continued to act asleep, suddenly confused and scared of who it could be. The room is cold, but the blankets warm me.

I feel a kiss on my forehead, the imprint of the lips making me realise who it was. Joseph had stayed the night, and I was too tired to remember. I slowly open my eyes, and I'm met with Joseph staring at me contently, hand holding up his head. His other hand is petting George, and his lips form a smile.

"You woke her." He whisper-shouts to George, acting angry. I chuckle a bit.

"Needed to anyway. How'd you sleep?"

"Very good. But my mother's probably worried where I am. I'll just tell her that I stayed in a wonderful fairy's cottage who cared for me and let me sleep in her dreamy home, with her dreamy cat and her dreamy face." I roll my eyes. He starts to fidget with the end of my blouse, rubbing the pink silk against his fingertips.

"Dreamy face?"

"What? It's true." I flush at the compliment. I get up slowly, and Joseph puts a pillow behind me. I lean back on it. He places George on the floor to wander off, and his hand lift my elbows up.

"Should've cleaned it last night. Sorry, I was too tired. Does it hurt?" He blows on it gently. I shake my head.

"It's alright." I lean down, having the urge to kiss his head. He laughs gently, letting me do so.

His eyepatch is on his face again, and I'm sort of disappointed, but don't speak up about it.

"What time is it?" I ask, whispering gently, cupping his head with my hands.

"Six, I think."

"Let's get up, yeah?" He nods, and before I could get my feet on the ground, he lifts me up and carries me on his shoulder, making me fold in half.

"Joseph!" I yelp, adrenaline suddenly rushing in me. I kick and punch at him, urging him to let me go. He doesn't listen, even grabbing a cigarette and smoking it, opening a window, then proceeds to carry me to the hall near the kitchen.

"Let me down." He finally does as he's told, and there's a smile on his face as I look up at him. I glare, grabbing the cigarette and butting it out on a nearby ashtray.

"Come on! What was that for?" He raises his hands in exclamation.

"Have something to eat first before you make my house smell more like you." I walk in the kitchen, then stop in my tracks. There's food already prepped, and I gape at the smell of freshly made pancakes.

Arms slip around my waist, and I grip at them for stability. There's a kiss on my hair, then a whisper.

"Eat well, love. Made it just for you." I blush at the nickname, heart thumping in my chest. Here, I thought we were just friends. We are, I remind myself. Are we?

I get rid of the thought, taking a seat in front of the plate of food. Joseph sits across from me, placing his arms on the table. I dig in, feeding him some slices and letting him take a sip of my drink. I finish up and thank him.

"Any time." He's smiling. I love when he smiles.

I get up from my place, going to my closet to pick out what to wear. Then, I pause.

"Do you have anything to wear?" He shakes his head. I nod after a while, leading him into my parents' bedroom.

"Are you sure your father's fine with me borrowing his clothes?" I shrug, throwing out a pair of socks.

"I'm sure he won't mind. He's barely here anyway." I turn around, a set of clothes in hand. I give it to him, then thought of something. I grab his hand, leading him back to my room.

"Here." I hand him a green cashmere sweater. "Green looks good on you."

"Yeah?" He tilts his head as he teases me. I flush.

"Whatever. Just put it on." I push him towards the bathroom.

I lay out a peach coloured dress, some white stockings, a pair of kitten heels, and some jewellery. I put them on, adding last touches to my hair. Joseph comes out of the bathroom, looking more mature than he was. It's honestly attractive.

"Don't you look nice." I laugh, placing my last earring on, walking towards him.

"Could say the same for you." He talks in a warm voice, deep enough to send shivers down my spine. I grab our coats and satchels, handing them out, petting George goodbye, and exiting the flat.

××《☆》××

The school crowds around the courtyard. I make my way out, paper in hand to show Joseph. In the halls, I see him, and he's talking with his friends. Then, like in the magazine booth, the closer I am, the more I hear. And again, there's a voice inside my head repeating Joseph's words.

"Yeah, she's quite clingy. You guys don't like it when a girl's clingy, right?" Dupin and the others nod, and I feel my heart clench in my chest.

"Plus, she's a model. You guys know what models do in their free time, if you know what I mean. It's nasty." My brain malfunctions, and I stay standing there, frozen.

They eventually break off, and Joseph turns, sees me, and his face drops. I look at him in the eye, then walk away.

I make it down the empty stairwell when he grabs my arm gently to stop me. I whip it away, wiping the tears off my face with my shivering hand.

"Y/N, please." He begs, repeatedly.

"Leave me alone. Don't you think I'm too clingy?" I sob out, sprinting a bit.

"Let me explain!" He shouts out, catching up to me. I stop.

"You don't have to explain a fucking thing, Joseph! I heard everything. You think I'm too clingy, right? Then I'll fucking go! I can't believe I trusted you. You're like every other boy." I push his chest, and he budges only slightly. "Is that why you didn't let me go with you through the gate yesterday?"

"I need to explain, Y/N, or else you'll think-"

"Think what? That you hate me? Because you do, and you know it. You fucking hate me, Joseph. And I fucking hate you, too. I hate you!" I push him again.

"Fine! You don't want to listen, fucking fine! Go back to that stupid Callum of yours, and live a happy life because he's so fucking inlove with you! And you obviously love him, too!"

"What?" I pause, suddenly confused where this came from.

"Don't act stupid, Y/N. I know you aren't. He so obviously inlove with you, and I don't know how the fuck you don't see it. The way he looks at you and touches you. Shit, it makes my blood boil, and I don't even have the right to!"

"Fine! I'll admit that I've noticed it, but I never said anything because I didn't want to-" I cut myself off, realising what I was about to say.

"Want to what? What's got your tongue now, Y/N? You didn't want to commit? Didn't want to do it in front of me? Well, you can do that now. I'm done watching him love you."

I scoff. "I can't believe you. You're making it seem like I'm the only one who did something wrong when you did, too!"

"That's because you won't let me explain!"

"Never fucking mind, then! Leave!"

"Fine!"

As he walks away, I cry. I cry because I lost someone close. I cry because I lost Joseph. I cry because he's just Descamps again.

I cry because I love him, and now he's just the boy with ash hair.

××《☆》××

End- Chapter five: You Know Where To Find Me, and I Know Where To Look

Next- Chapter six: Mischief Managed

××《☆》××

Back to square one for the two. Sorry not sorry, I SWEAR its for the plot guys. This is lowkey short, its cus the ep was just abt our fav nurse (love her) anw new chapter soon!!!

#joseph descamps x reader #joseph descamps #mixte1963 #michèle magnan #simone palladino #jean pierre magnan #alain laubrac #enemies to lovers #fanfic #reader insert

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