#But it’s all my friends do every weekend

[hcneymooners]

⋆ up until the very last ember of my heart extinguishes, i will be thinking of you.

dj!mel x best friend!fem!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: you & mel have always been thick as thieves, and things have yet to change. but lately, you've been thinking of mel differently and, well—maybe you want more. cw: dj!mel, best friend!reader, female!reader, no age gap i fear, you guys are in your twenties, modern!au, resolved sexual tension, pining, friends to lovers, clubbing, not actually unrequited love, explicit sexual content, dom!mel, sub!reader, lowkey y'all are switches, wall sex, tender sex, vaginal fingering, edging, cunnilingius, oral sex (r!receiving), couch sex, mel is actually insane about you, obsession, possessive behavior, squirting, face riding, pet names, you guys are very soft for each other.

notes: i love her so much guys; i'm gonna be sick. hope you enjoy. this is really rough for my first time back in a while but it is what it is, hmm?

“you’re loyal to her. i’ve never gone a night without seeing you here.”

the words are screamed directly into your ear and you stumble a bit, already off kilter thanks to the lychee martinis you’ve been sipping since the beginning of the evening. the world is beautiful like this: slurred into soft strobes of turquoise, gold, green that caress the sweaty gleaming bodies of the people spinning within it. the set for tonight is still danceable but decidedly slower than usual, honing in on the loneliness and escapism other people may desire on valentine’s eve.

you blink blearily at the girl vibrating next to you. she shakes with a jitter you know belongs either to ketamine or cocaine—or perhaps both. ck-ing was a popular method of dressing up a club night in london. you stop swaying to the beat, body still as you focus on her completely. mel once told you that this was your pull—this ability to make whomever was in front of you feel as though they were the most important thing in the world to you.

“sorry, what?” you finally push out.

“mel,” the girl shouts again, gesturing to the stage way up front. “whenever she’s performing, you’re here!”

you glance up at the woman in question, face softening as you watch the way her body flows into her highly practiced routine of dance. tonight the movements are more minimal, courtesy of her dress—a masterpiece of fanned peacock feathers that catch and scatter light with every subtle movement. the feathers are arranged in a mesmerizing spiral from the jeweled clasp beneath her arm, each eye seeming to watch the crowd as she moves. it's shorter than her usual style, ending mid-thigh in a flutter of iridescent tips that make her look like some rare, exotic bird. every time the bass drops, the feathers tremble in response, creating a hypnotic dance of green-blue shadows across her skin.

it’s not typical for a dj-ing outfit, but mel has cemented herself as a rich girl with a talent. everyone knows who she is, who her mother is. they love that she comes down to their level during the weekends, covers herself in glitter and spins together a beat like some kind of opulent spider.

"yeah," you shout back, your voice still managing to sound tender. "she's my best friend."

the words feel both true and incomplete in your mouth - they always do. you've been "best friends" since you quite literally crashed into her at university, spilling your coffee all over her white hermès sweater. instead of the fury you'd expected, she'd laughed, dragged you shopping for a replacement, and somehow ended up buying you three sweaters instead.

that was mel all over: excessive, generous, impossible to refuse.

"lucky!" your momentary friend shouts back and your mouth dips into a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

lucky. right. lucky to be the one who holds her hair back after bad nights, who listens to her practice sets until dawn, who knows exactly how she likes her tea when she's stressed (earl grey, splash of oat milk, two sugars). lucky to be the one who gets to love her from this careful distance, never quite close enough to risk everything.

the girl disappears into the crowd, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the music again. mel's current track winds down, bleeding into something slower, more haunting. you recognize it immediately—it's one of her original pieces, the one she'd made you listen to first, cross-legged on her bedroom floor at 3 am, her face anxious and hopeful in the low light.

the memory makes your chest ache. up on stage, she's different from that vulnerable version of herself. her movements are precise and controlled, even in that impossible dress. you watch as she adjusts something on her deck, the feathers shifting across her back like ripples in dark water. when she reaches up to adjust her headphones, the dress catches the light in a way that makes your breath catch.

you're not the only one watching. the crowd around you is entranced, and you hear snippets of their whispered appreciation. the warmth of your tipsiness is starting to wear off. you’re suddenly so much more aware of yourself, of the differences between you and the luminescent girl on stage.

tonight you’ve chosen a simple black midi dress with a scoop neck that cups your chest gently. the tops of your breasts swell up softly at the mouth of the fabric, gleaming with a golden sheen that could only belong to your beloved diamond shimmer bath and body works mist. your hair has been longer by a copious number of extensions, the bundles pooling together at your lower back. tinsel is strung artfully in-between some strands, a careful layering courtesy of mel.

as you look around at the people around you, you feel boring and a bit underdressed. everyone is suddenly so much cooler than you and the thought brings a rush of warmth to your cheeks, the embarrassment strong in its resurgence. you shift in place as the song changes to something a bit more fast-paced. there’s a chorus of screams, shouts of pleasure, and the floor begins to shake as people flood it to dance. you smile tightly as someone slams into you rather harshly, their apology half-assed and unfocused.

you clutch the top of your mother’s vintage ysl clutch, the chain a bit rusted and the body bulging with a combination of your house keys, your lip combo, some shit from work you didn’t take out in time, and the normally slim body of your phone which as been made bigger by the chunky sides of your artisan bedazzled phone case. the multiple polaroids of you and mel in the back didn’t help the situation in any way, the glossy memories slightly distended by the rolled bills you’ve tucked back there for emergencies.

as you turn to navigate the sudden pit of people, the music lowers just enough so that mel’s soft steady voice bleeds through. the lights flash once, twice, a third time; the bulbs are hot and pink. you know what’s coming, but you still don’t turn around, though your mouth twitches in a smile.

"hey, london," mel croons and the crowd screams back at her, eager to greet the woman soundtracking what is probably just another tuesday evening. "i have a question before i finish up. i don't want to forget."

your heart stutters in your chest. she does this sometimes, turns you into an unwitting participant in her performances. you remember the first time she did it, six months ago, how your knees had gone weak at the way she'd claimed you so publicly, so casually. how dangerous it had felt, how thrilling.

"has anyone seen my girl?"

the crowd goes crazy and you lift a hand to your mouth to hide your smile, heat flooding your cheeks. you hate how easily she can undo you, how these little moments of possession—even if they're just part of her show—make your pulse race. your free hand unconsciously touches the delicate gold chain around your neck—her birthday gift from last year, a tiny hextech crystal pendant that she'd said "reminded her of home."

"i came in with her. you know her, right? gorgeous little thing in a short black dress. kind of looks like…"

you close your eyes, remembering how she'd fussed over you earlier tonight, her fingers gentle as she wove tinsel through your hair. 'perfect,' she'd murmured, her breath warm against your ear, and you'd had to suppress a shiver. now, surrounded by strangers who are about to echo what you've felt for years, the irony isn't lost on you.

she trails off, holds out her mic to a group of girls right below her who giggle out the finishing portion of her sentence.

“…the love of my life!” they sing, drawing out the ‘i’ for a long while.

mel’s laugh echoes through the speakers, the sound throaty and raw. on cue, the music begins: “please don’t be love of my life” by caitvi, (calvin harris mix). they were a rock band that accidentally stumbled into becoming the summer muses for every edm fiend in existence.

you clutch your empty martini glass with a renewed strength, fighting until you manage to clutch a hand on the bar. the bartender smiles at you, complimenting your perfume which you don’t even think is still on your skin. you say thank you anyway, laughing openly as they tease you about your fondness for lychee. you’ve always been this way, you want to say, always holding on to what you know in the hopes that it’ll eventually love you back.

instead, you look over your shoulder at mel’s far off silhouette. there’s a moment where she looks up, seems to look at you. you don’t know if she really sees you, given your distance and the disorienting nature of the club. you smile regardless, raise a hand to wave lightly. the chrome bow on your acrylics flashes meanly, signaling your position.

she looks way, smiles earnestly at the crowd, and you drop your hand. the moment is broken, like always. as you move to pull your refreshed martini by the stem, mel’s dj tag sounds: sounds of birds of paradise, interwoven into one another over a damagingly sad violin sample. it’s her way of letting the people know that this will be her last couple of songs for the evening.

the birds’ calls fade into the melancholy beginning of “healing” by gordo featuring drake. the opening notes reverberate through you and you press your lips together, body thrumming with the effect of being noticed. she had seen you. that was the only reason she was playing this song. it had been your favorite for the past month, and now here it was on blast at one of the most elite clubs in the city.

‘i want to see you dance to this,’ she’d told you one evening, her mouth trailing against your shoulder. you were twisted together in your bed, the blankets plush around you as the two of you shared her airpods. ‘i want to see you have fun, lose yourself.’

‘i can’t lose myself,’ you’d said back, mouth rising in a secretive smile.

mel had lifted your hand teasingly, bit it gently, and then interlinked her fingers with yours.

‘don’t worry. i’ll find you.’

you look back at her, find her leaning over her deck with a finger pressed pensively to her mouth. she quirks an eyebrow and gestures to the crowd, as if asking why you’re not inside of it. you smile despite it all and abandon your martini, wiggling through the gaps of people until you're up front.

the bass drops and the crowd surges forward, but you hold your ground, eyes locked on mel. she's watching you now, really watching you, her movements more deliberate as she works the deck. you recognize this version of the song; it's her own remix, the one she'd been perfecting for weeks in her home studio. she'd added layers of ethereal synths that make it feel like you're floating, like you're the only person in the room who really understands what she's trying to say.

she gestures to her security guard, a subtle movement that you've seen countless times before. within moments, strong hands are parting the crowd, creating a path to the booth. your heart pounds as you're ushered up the steps, into her domain of switches and lights and pulsing energy. the peacock feathers of her dress brush against your arm as she pulls you close, her free hand settling on your waist.

"dance with me," she murmurs into your ear, her voice carrying despite the thundering music. her fingers trace patterns on your hip, and you wonder if she can feel you trembling. "show them what this song was made for."

you let your body move with hers, falling into the rhythm she's created. the feathers of her dress catch the light with each movement, creating a private light show just for the two of you. she keeps one hand on the deck, maintaining the perfect flow of music, but her other hand never leaves your body, guiding you through the dance like she's afraid you might disappear if she lets go.

the crowd below is going wild, but you barely notice them. all you can focus on is the way mel's breath catches when you press closer, the way her fingers tighten on your waist when you roll your hips. the tinsel in your hair catches the light, mixing with the iridescent shimmer of her dress until you're both wrapped in a cocoon of glitter and sound.

"see?" she whispers, and you can hear the smile in her voice. "i told you i'd find you."

the words send a shiver down your spine, and you turn your head slightly, catching her gaze. there's something different in her eyes tonight, something that makes your breath catch in your throat. maybe it's the valentine's eve atmosphere, or maybe it's the way the lights are hitting her face, but for a moment, you let yourself believe that the look she's giving you means what you want it to mean.

she transitions into the next song seamlessly, but keeps you close, as if she's forgotten that this isn't how she usually ends her sets. as if she's forgotten that you're supposed to be just her best friend, watching from the crowd like always. as if, just for tonight, you could be something more.

the spell breaks when you catch a glimpse of your reflection in one of the booth's chrome panels. you see yourself pressed against her, see the way you're looking at her: desperate, obvious, completely transparent. the music suddenly feels too loud, the lights too bright, your skin too tight. you're acutely aware of every place her body touches yours, and it's simultaneously too much and not enough.

"i need—" you start, but can't finish. mel's hand tightens on your waist for a fraction of a second before you pull away. you gesture vaguely toward the floor, not meeting her eyes. "sorry, i just—"

you don't wait for her response, practically stumbling down the booth steps. the crowd that had been watching your dance parts easily, perhaps sensing your urgency. you hear the next dj's tag start to play—some remix of a taylor swift song—which means mel's set is over. which means she might follow you. the thought makes you move faster.

you trip over your feet, your heel catching on the bone of your ankle as it lifts and you fall. your knees crack against the ground, but you regain your momentum. your neck is warm and you lift your hair with one hand as you spin, eventually locating the flickering neon sign denoting the bathroom.

the bathroom is mercifully empty when you burst in, all perfectly-cut marble and deep blue lighting that makes your reflection look expensive and almost admirably tragic. you press your palms against the cool counter, letting your head hang down as you try to steady your breathing. the bass from the club thrums through the walls, muffled but persistent, like a heartbeat.

“you’re always so fucking stupid,” you whisper to yourself, watching a tear splash onto the marble. you'd let yourself get carried away, let yourself pretend. but mel is mel. this is the girl who turns heads when she walks into rooms, who has fashion houses begging to dress her, who could have anyone she wants. and you're just… someone else.

her best friend, you suppose. the girl who’s responsible for holding her hair back when she's sick, who listens to her practice sets, who loves her so strongly that it feels akin to having a spear sunk through your chest.

the bathroom door opens with a soft whoosh, and you know it's her before she speaks. you can smell her perfume. it’s something custom-made in paris, a mix of lily, amber, and caramel. you don't look up.

"hey," mel says softly, and you hear the click of her heels on the marble floor as she approaches. "what happened up there?"

you close your eyes, trying to ignore how the marble feels like ice beneath your palms, how your body still burns where she touched you in the booth. "nothing happened, melly. i just needed some air."

you use your nickname for her as a way to disarm her, but mel has always been immovable when it came to getting something that she wants. the silence that follows feels incredibly long, but you know it hasn’t even been ten seconds. you lean forward, splash water on your face. blindly, you search for a paper towel but you’re handed a small hand towel instead. your makeup transfers onto the fabric, staining it with the traces of your exhaustion and loneliness.

"[name], look at me." her voice is gentle but firm, the same tone she uses when she knows you're lying. when you don't move, you hear her sigh, the sound followed by the soft rustle of feathers. then her hand is on your shoulder, turning you around.

she's closer than you expected, close enough that you can see the individual glitter particles scattered across her collarbones, catch the faint sheen of sweat at her temples from performing. the peacock dress seems alive in the bathroom's soft lighting, each feather shifting with her breath. you try to step back, but the counter prevents your retreat.

"you were crying," she observes, reaching up to brush her thumb beneath your eye. her touch lingers longer than necessary, and you hate how your body betrays you, leaning into her hand like a flower seeking sun. "why were you crying?"

"i wasn't," you lie, even as another tear escapes. "it's just the vodka. you know how i get."

"yeah," she says, and now both her hands are cupping your face, forcing you to meet her gaze. her eyes are dark, intent, stripped of their usual playful gleam. "i know how you get when you're drunk, and this isn't it. this is something else."

you try to laugh but it comes out choked. "melly, please—"

"when you were up there with me," she interrupts, one hand sliding down to rest against your neck, her thumb pressed gently against your pulse point, "what were you thinking about?"

the question hangs between you, heavy with possibility. you can feel your heartbeat racing beneath her thumb, wonder if she can feel it too. the bathroom suddenly seems smaller, the air thicker. somewhere outside, the music has changed to something slower, more intimate. the bass line crawls up through the floor and into your bones.

this is how love always finds you, corners you. it's a snake that's flat enough to slide underneath the door. you always watch it passively as it slides up your body, only crying out when it bites.

"i was thinking," you start, then stop, swallowing hard. her eyes track the movement of your throat. "i was thinking about how great you were tonight, how—how beautiful you are. ‘nd i was thinking about how some things can look real without being real. like stage lights. or club nights. or best friends who—"

you cut yourself off, but her grip on your neck tightens slightly, just enough to make your breath catch. the feathers of her dress brush against your thighs, a whisper of sensation that makes you shiver.

"or best friends who what?" she prompts, her voice low, almost dangerous. she's close enough now that you can feel her breath against your lips, can smell the champagne she'd been sipping between sets.

the door to the bathroom opens, the sound of the club surging in, and you both freeze. mel doesn't move away, doesn't drop her hands. instead, she leans closer, her lips brushing your ear.

"we're not done with this conversation," she murmurs, the words a promise that distills heat through your body. "come on."

she pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, and the look in hers makes your knees weak. you open your mouth to respond, but—

the bathroom door swings shut again, leaving you both in that suspended moment. your "okay" comes out barely above a whisper, but she hears it. of course she hears it. she’s always heard you, even when you chose not to speak.

♤

the ride home is thick with unspoken words.

mel's driver, marcus, keeps his eyes professionally forward as you slide into the back of the bentley, the leather seats cool against your bare legs. mel follows, close enough that the feathers of her dress spill over onto your thigh. neither of you speak, but her pinky finger finds yours in the darkness between your bodies, hooking together like you used to do in university when one of you needed grounding.

london slides past the tinted windows in a blur of neon and shadow. you watch the reflections of passing streetlights play across mel's profile, catching the sharp edge of her jaw, the elegant line of her neck. she’s removed her performance jewelry, but missed a spot of glitter near her ear. without thinking, you reach up to brush it away.

she catches your wrist before you can retreat, her thumb pressing into your pulse point again. the car feels smaller in a matter of minutes, the air between you charged with electricity. she turns to fully face you, bringing your hand up to her mouth so that she can slide your pointer finger into her mouth. the suck of her lips is gentle, tender. you watch her head bob as she slides down further, then pulls off.

she doesn't let go of your wrist for the rest of the ride.

when the car pulls up to her mayfair townhouse, you feel like you're moving through a dream. the click of her heels on the steps echoes in the quiet street. to you, they're like gunshots and you have the irrational thought of the neighbors coming out to complain, to tell you that your desire is choking them in the same way you feel now. your own steps are less sure, thanks to the martinis and the way your whole body seems to be humming with anticipation.

she fumbles with her keys briefly, something you've never seen her do, and then you're inside. the door closes behind you with a soft click that seems to echo in the darkness. neither of you move to turn on the lights. the moonlight filtering through her floor-to-ceiling windows is enough to see by, casting everything in shades of silver.

she looks unreal, like a figment of your imagination. you pinch the inside of your thigh, letting out a hiss of air from in-between your teeth. she moves closer, fingers the indentation where your nails had dug into the skin.

you shake, but she only steadies you.

"melly," you start, but she shakes her head, settling both hands on your waist.

gently, she maneuvers you until your back meets the wall. a hand lifts to settle at the base of your neck, her lithe fingers threading into your hair so that she can cup the back of your head. she’s making sure your head doesn’t hit the stone, sacrificing her own skin to ensure your comfort. the thought makes you warmer than before.

mel watches your face, her eyes almost erratic as she searches for whatever sign she needs. she comes flush against you and your legs part instinctively to make room for her, spread to accommodate the whole of her.

she lowers her head, mouth coming to burn against your neck as she presses a kiss there. you let out a small, weeping sound as if her lips have enabled a release inside of you. in a way they have. you soften, melt into her and find the strength to touch her.

your hands grasp at mel’s neck and she hums in satisfaction, working her teeth into the meat of your neck like a vampire. she pulls back only to look down, freeing a hand from your waist to inch the hem of your dress up.

you moan brokenly as you grow more exposed, your cunt wet against the baby blue lace that holds it. the moonlight sneaks between the both of you and renders the fabric practically translucent, the blue so light in its glow that it seems closer to white.

“you’re so beautiful, baby,” mel whispers and you blink at her, your throat tight. “you always say it about me, and i never understand it. when i look at our pictures, i don’t see anyone else.”

your eyes slip low, going tender, and you cup her face.

“you’re perfect, mel.”

“i guess we’re a good match,” she murmurs and then she’s in you.

the motion is so smooth, so quick. you hadn’t realized she’d peeled the fabric of your panties back, pushed them to the side. you know nothing now except for the steady pump of her fingers. there are two working deep into the heart of you, searching and spreading your slick heat.

you cry out, eyes wide like a doe’s. mel only smiles, predatory and slow. her teeth gleam, two rows of perfect pearls. you feel out of your body, but she brings you back in with every stroke inside of you. her breathing is becoming heavy, labored. her eyes seem a little wild and the hand on your neck moves briefly to squeeze tightly at your waist until you let out a deep “unh.”

mel grins again at the sound and it makes you surge forward, crushing her mouth into a bruising kiss. you bite at her bottom lip until she opens and lets you in, your tongue lapping all over as if to consume her. she slips a third finger inside of you, curling at the walls of your cunt to make you clench down.

you continue to kiss her, tilting your head so that angle is better. you slot together perfectly and she moans into your mouth, increasing the speed of her thrusts. you break away from her and study her face, taking in the way her lip gloss is smeared wickedly around her mouth. her lips are swollen and dark and she takes one in between her teeth as she works deeper into you.

your head falls back and she returns her hand to the nape of your neck, catching you before you can hit the wall.

“you’re okay, mama,” she murmurs and you nod, eyes focused somewhere distant on the ceiling.

she knows how you get, how disassociative you can become when you’re overwhelmed with emotion. she watches as you go somewhere she’s unable to follow. your chest heaves with every exhale and she leans forward to press a kiss to the top of your tits, then another right in the middle of them. her mouth is dusted with glitter when she pulls away.

you fuck down on her hand, an animalistic moan crawling from somewhere deep in your chest. mel fucks you harder, grunting as she shifts you bodily up and down with the effort. you keen as she uses her thumb to rub your clit, the circles tight and concentrated. pleasure arcs white and hot up your spine and you close your eyes, mouth falling open silently.

“that’s it,” she says. “come on, baby. come on.”

“mel,” you gasp and she laughs lowly.

“what happened to melly?” she teases and you whine, a foot kicking out as she presses against your g-spot.

“melly, please,” you whisper. “fuck, please.”

“please what?”

"just please.”

nothing changes. she only watches you squirm and beg like a whore, her face impassive. it was moments like these where you were reminded of her mother. the thought sends another shot of arousal to your cunt and it drools down mel’s wrist, sticky and warm.

“mel, fuck. fuck, i can feel it. i’m almost—i’m right there. just please, baby.” you’re crying now, disoriented and breaking apart with every push of her fingers. “please. please, melly, please."

you drag your eyes from the ceiling to her face, your pupils dilated and bright like stars. her face suffers through a range of emotion before she curses and yanks her fingers out of you.

“no,” you sob, and she sushes you.

“just hang on a minute, mama. hold on,” she soothes, her hands coming to lift you from beneath your thighs.

mel moves quickly and you take comfort in the fact that she needs this as much as you do.

you find yourself draped over the couch, your stomach resting on the arm of the chair. there’s a slight application of pressure as mel forces you into an arch, your ass and cunt pushed up. she nudges your legs apart and then gets on her knees, her hands coming to rest on the back of your thighs as she leans in and puts her mouth on you.

“oh,” you moan and she hums into you.

she’s methodical and precise, her tongue slipping into the mix and filling you as best she can. her pace increases as she licks you front to back, twisting so she can suck and nip on your clit. you let out a high mewl as she grips the plush flesh of your ass, rocking you slowly until you’re able to continue the rhythm on your own.

the heat returns, spirals up from your stomach into your chest and throat. you whimper, letting your head fall forward and down. your eyes squeeze shut as you focus on riding her face, swiveling your hips in small circles to better grind your clit against her nose.

again you can feel it, that call to somewhere distant. mel feels the way you tighten around her tongue, the sudden stiffening of your thighs. she knows you’re just there, right at the golden gate of your private paradise so she removes her mouth and focuses completely on stimulating your clit with her fingers.

“mel,” you breathe. “melly—”

“i know, mama. you can do it. cum on my face. cum all over me, princess. mess me up, hmm?”

you reach down and she reaches up, instinctively understanding what you’re aching for. just as your fingers intertwine, you fall apart. your arch drops and mel hums, closing her eyes as you squirt over her. she can feel you trembling and she opens her mouth lazily, letting your cum drip into it as if it was some sort of sacred rain.

her fingers lace with yours properly now, no more tentative pinky holds. you grip back with the strength of a soldier at war, your eyes rolling shut as you hump against her face and ride out your high. mel only lets you use her, dragging her other hand down to grope at her throbbing pussy.

eventually, you settle and she tugs you down so that you’re sitting dazed and lax in her lap. her hands squeeze your ass as she noses at your cheek, slipping a light kiss onto your cheek.

"hey. hey, baby, look at me. are you with me?”

“ye—yeah,” you get out. “‘m with you.”

“let’s go upstairs," she says softly, and it's not quite a question. "unless—"

"yes," you interrupt, squeezing her hand. "yes."

mel makes no move to get up, however, and you watch her face.

“melly?”

"i need you to know," she says, a hand coming up to trace your jawline, "that whatever happens next… this isn't just because. this isn't just because we were dancing, or drinking, or—"

"i know," you whisper, even though you don't, not really. but you want to believe. god, how you want to believe.

mel shifts, tilts you so that you’re on your back. her braids have fallen from her signature bun, and they block out the little light spilling in from the window.

“baby, i want you. i love you, i need you, and i can’t—i can’t tell you enough how much i’ve wanted this. nothing matters to me more than you.”

“i know, melly. trust me, i understand.”

she shakes her head, opens her mouth. you lift a hand, dig your nails into the sides of her throat as you clutch at it for just one second.

“i understand.”

it feels like she’s been the only thing on your mind since the day you were born. you’ve been waiting for her ever since.

© hcneymooners.

⚚ wife tag: @s-4pphics

[maretinelli]

BRITISH PODIUM

DadLewis Hamilton X Mom!fem!reader

Summary: When the grand prix is in the UK, Lewis' home, and the girls are excited to join their dad in the garage, this eventually comes with a lot of questions from the Hamilton daughters.

Words: 3.8K+

Warnings: Mention of Aunt Carmen and Uncle George, some technical words coming from Marie, Pietra always making a funny comment, loving father and even better husband, mention of babies (oh!!!) Happy ending because I already put the anguish at the beginning of the miniseries hahaha

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar, and slang mistakes that may be in the story. This story is part of the Universe of A NON-SEPARATION. But it can be read separately.

MASTERLIST

The UK race weekend was always special for Lewis, but this one had an even greater meaning. In addition to the fervent home crowd, he would have his family present in the garage, following every detail closely. His wife and two daughters would make that Sunday even more unforgettable.

That morning, Y/n was responsible for waking the girls up and starting their routine before heading out to the paddock. As soon as Pietra opened her eyes, she jumped out of bed and ran to her sister's room.

"Marie! Do you think my Ferrari t-shirt looks better with the ballet-like skirt or with my denim overalls?"

The sister, still stretching, glanced at Pietra and smiled.

"Anything will look good, you're beautiful either way."

Even though there were days of fights and arguments, most of the time the two were best friends. They always supported each other in small decisions, from choosing an outfit to making up stories together before bed.

Y/n and Lewis watched all that movement with smiles on their faces. It was impressive to see how a four-year-old girl cared so much about the clothes she would wear that day.

Sometimes, at night, when they were alone, they talked about their daughters' future. Marie was smart, fascinated by mathematics, and always asked detailed questions about her father's car when he returned from a race. For Lewis and Y/n, she would definitely be an engineer. Pietra, on the other hand, seemed to want to be everything at the same time. One week she wanted to be a journalist to interview her father, the next day an architect because she loved decorations, then a ballerina because the ballet class had been incredible. This always made them both laugh and become even more enchanted by the youngest.

Now, ready to leave the house, Marie was sitting in her car seat, while Y/n finished fastening her daughter's seatbelt. The girl was wearing a Ferrari t-shirt with her father's number and her name printed on the back, combined with loose jeans and sneakers that Lewis had helped her choose and put on. Her straight hair was tied with a red headband.

Lewis was finishing putting away his bag when he realized that Pietra was still not in the car.

"Honey, where's Pietra?"

Y/n raised her head, looking around until she noticed the open front door.

"She's still inside." She walked to the entrance and called out to her daughter. "P, come on! We're waiting for you."

The answer came from the stairs.

"I'm coming, mommy!"

Y/n walked back to the car and opened the backseat door, adjusting Pietra's chair and organizing the space. Lewis walked past her, leaving a quick kiss on her temple before heading to the driver's side.

When Yin turned to call Pietra again, the girl appeared in the doorway with a mischievous smile and a Union Jack wrapped around her body.

"Look, Mommy! Now I'm Daddy's superhero!"

Lewis laughed when he saw the scene and approached his daughter.

"Superhero, huh? Then you'll have to help me win this race today."

Pietra let out a laugh and nodded, as Lewis kissed her forehead before walking to the door to lock the house.

Y/n watched her daughter approach and smiled.

"You look beautiful with that flag. A true supporter of daddy."

Pietra gave a satisfied smile. Her curls were neatly styled and pulled back, decorated with a red bow. She was wearing the same T-shirt as her sister, but she had chosen tights and a ballet-like skirt. On her feet, black patent leather slippers gleamed in the morning sun.

Once everyone was settled in the car, Lewis started the car and asked:

"Everyone soon?"

"YES!" The girls responded in chorus, excitedly, making their parents laugh.

Y/n looked at Lewis, amused.

"If their excitement were measured in horsepower, I think it would outperform your car engine."

Lewis smiled. "If I could, I'd put both of them as my power unit. No one would catch me on the track."

Marie, leaning forward in her chair, touched her mother's shoulder.

"Mommy, can I put on some music?"

"Of course, my love."

Y/n took out her phone and connected it to the car's Bluetooth. When she opened the music app, she came across several playlists. One with only Pietra's songs, another with only Marie's, one of her own and another that she used to listen to with Lewis.

She laughed, shaking her head.

"My phone has become a playlist festival. There's something for everyone here."

Lewis gave her an amused look.

"I call this the democratization of sound."

Pietra raised her hand. "Then I'll choose the song first!"

Y/n laughed and put on her playlist. During the walk to the paddock, the girls sang happily, while Lewis and Y/n laughed, both at the childish voices and at Pietra's random comments.

When they arrived at the circuit, Lewis parked the car. The place was already busy, with fans arriving and journalists preparing their cameras. Photographers were already recording the first moments of the day.

As Y/n unbuttoned Pietra in the back seat, the girl looked at her and said: "Mommy, do you want to have another baby? Because these days I dreamed that I had a little brother."

Lewis laughed immediately, while Y/n's eyes widened, finishing unbuckling her daughter's belt before turning to Marie.

"P, my love... where did that idea come from?"

"Hey, from my dream!"

Lewis, still laughing, shrugged. "That wouldn't be such a bad idea."

Y/n turned to him, arching her eyebrow.

"Let's live in the present and think about it later, okay?"

Lewis leaned toward her, smiling.

"If it depends on me, the future is already planned."

Y/n laughed and rolled her eyes before everyone got out of the car. Each of them took one of the girls by the hand and they began walking through the parking lot towards the paddock.

When they reached the entrance turnstiles, Pietra held her father's hand tightly and looked at him expectantly.

"Daddy, can I swipe my badge by myself?"

Lewis smiled and picked her up.

"Sure, little one. Here, hold on."

Pietra took the badge and, focused, passed it through the machine, unlocking the turnstile.

"I achieved!"

Lewis walked past with her on his lap, while Y/n and Marie walked past together, laughing at something they were talking about. Lewis looked at them and smiled.

The girls carried small backpacks on their backs. Pietra had filled hers with new toys that her father had brought back from his trip, eager to show them to her favorite aunt and uncle, George and Carmen. Marie, more practical, put out cookies, snacks and candy. Y/n allowed it, after all, once in a while it wouldn't hurt.

The flag that Pietra had picked up earlier was now folded inside her backpack. She was waiting anxiously for the right moment to wrap herself in it again—her father would win this race, and she would be ready to celebrate.

As they approached the Ferrari garage, some people recognized the girls and greeted them. Pietra, always outgoing, waved excitedly, asked questions and smiled at everyone.

"Hi! Do you work with Daddy?" She asked an engineer, curious.

"Yes, I do work, I help take care of his car." The man replied, smiling.

"So you're also rooting for him to win, aren't you?"

"For sure!"

Marie, on the other hand, was more reserved, just waved shyly and responded with a polite "Hi" to whoever spoke to her.

When they arrived at the garage, the engineers greeted them with smiles and greetings. The girls were soon surrounded by people who were already used to seeing them there. Charles arrived soon after, bending down to talk to them.

"Bonjour, girls! Are you ready to cheer for daddy today?"

"Yes! We're home!" Pietra replied excitedly, while Marie just nodded with a small smile.

Meanwhile, Lewis was talking quickly with his engineer and the strategist, adjusting the last details of the race. Y/n, a little behind the girls, gave space so that they could fit in, while exchanging a few words with Charles' girlfriend.

Time passed, and Lewis was back in the garage, now dressed in his racing suit. Pietra was busy showing her toys to Carmen and George, who had stopped by to see them. George soon had to go back to his garage, leaving Pietra with Carmen.

Marie, meanwhile, stood beside her father, watching intently as he showed her the car.

"Dad, what's your strategy for today?"

Lewis smiled, admiring his daughter's interest. "I'll try to overtake early on to take the lead."

Marie frowned, analyzing. “But if you do it too aggressively, you might wear out your tires before the first stop.”

Lewis blinked a few times, surprised by the remark. A few engineers nearby also raised their eyebrows in surprise.

Y/n smiled proudly, while Alexandra, beside her, commented: "Marie is very intelligent."

Y/n replied, smiling. "I like to think a little something came from me too." They laugh.

At that moment, Pietra returned to the garage hand in hand with Carmen, who smiled affectionately at the little girl.

"Mommy, I think I want to watch the race with Aunt Carmen today." Pietra said, making Y/n laugh.

"Oh really? Are you going to abandon daddy like that?"

Pietra widened her eyes, realizing.

"True! Daddy needs me!" She looked at Carmen and sighed. "I'm sorry, Aunt Ca. I can't stay with you."

Carmen laughed and bent down to look at Pietra.

"Okay, my little one. But you can come and tell me everything after the race. Deal?"

"Combined!"

Y/n smiled, watching the interaction.

"They still haven't gotten used to the fact that we're not in the same garage anymore," he commented to Carmen.

"Two years already and still like this." Y/n laughs. "It took me a while to get used to it too."

After a few more words, Carmen said goodbye and headed to the other garage.

Pietra had run to where her father was with her sister, paying attention to her father's car and smiled.

"Daddy, can I get in the car?"

Lewis laughed. "If you go in, you might not want to come out."

"No problem! I'll drive for you, Daddy!"

Lewis laughed and picked up his daughter, placing her inside the cockpit. Pietra's eyes widened.

"Wow! But it's so small in here!" She grimaced. "AND THERE'S NO AIR!"

Lewis laughed, pulling her out of the car.

"You have a reason for that." Marie explained, looking at her sister on her father's lap. "The space is small because the car needs to be light and aerodynamic. And it may lack air because of the protections and the steering wheel."

Lewis smiled at his eldest daughter. "Exactly! You really pay attention to everything, huh?"

Marie smiled proudly.

Time passed quickly and, with only fifteen minutes left until the start, Y/n and the girls were in the area reserved for family members. Y/n was sitting with Marie next to her and Pietra on her lap, while they both ate the cookies that Marie had brought in her backpack. Y/n was talking to Alexandra when one of the engineers announced that the drivers were heading to the grid.

As soon as Lewis approached, the two girls ran towards him excitedly. Y/n laughed at the scene-the sound of their laughter was identical to Lewis's.

"Marie may look more like you physically, but she has her father's laugh." Alexandra smiled.

Y/n laughed and shook her head.

"That's right, two mini versions of Lewis. I'm surrounded!"

Pietra looked at her father and held out her hand with a biscuit. "Daddy, eat. What if you're hungry?"

"Oh, thank you, dear!" Lewis laughed and accepted, taking a bite before kissing his daughter's head.

"Don't make a mistake on Turn 3. I saw in the last race that it's a difficult section." Marie looked at him with a serious look.

Lewis laughed. "I'll be careful, I promise, honey."

He kissed his daughters' heads and then stood up, approaching Y/n. With a smile, he held her face and gave her a kiss.

"Take care." Y/n whispered, caressing his face.

"Always. And I'll be back." He replied with a smile.

Lewis then walked to the car. Y/n and the girls watched as he prepared to leave for the grid.

Pietra nudged her mother's arm. "Mommy, Daddy has to win! I want to get my flag again."

Y/n to them.

"I want him to win too, my love. But keep the flag safe for now, okay?"

Pietra smiled and hugged her mother's legs.

Y/n stroked the youngest's curls, while her other hand held Marie's. Her heart was beating fast not only from the race, but from the immense love she felt for that family.

There, in that corner of the garage, with Pietra snuggled in her lap and Marie sitting next to her, Y/n found herself reflecting on her life. Her dreams were all there, materialized. An incredible husband, whom she admired deeply, two sweet and intelligent daughters, and a dream job. Everything seemed perfect.

But sometimes, a strange feeling would come over her, as if something was still missing. She didn't know exactly what, only that every now and then, this feeling would arise subtly, leaving her thoughtful for a few seconds before being interrupted by the reality around her.

On the grid, with just a few minutes left before the race started, one of the engineers approached Marie, holding a special headset that transmitted communications directly between Lewis and the team.

"What is this?" Marie asked curiously, looking at the object.

"This will let you listen to your dad's radio during the race. Want to try it?"

The girl's eyes lit up, and she immediately looked at Y/n, who smiled and nodded.

"Go ahead, my love."

Marie picked up the earphone carefully, as if she were holding a treasure, and placed it on her ears. "Thank you so much!" She thanked the engineer, adjusting the earphones.

Meanwhile, Pietra had gone back to focusing on her cookies, swinging her little feet absentmindedly.

Then the lights on the grid went out and the race began. Pietra let out a little scream and covered her eyes, while Marie pressed the headphones to her ears, euphoric.

Y/n laughed at her daughters' reactions, watching as each one expressed their support in their own way.

The race unfolded and Marie gave detailed commentary, as if she were part of the engineering team.

"He needs to conserve the tyres more now because if there is a safety car the strategy can change completely." She murmured to her mother, paying attention to what she heard on the radio.

Pietra, although younger and less technical, was equally fascinated. She looked at the monitors with shining eyes, even though she had watched so many of her father's races before.

At one point, Pietra tugged on her mother's shirt sleeve. "Mommy, can I talk to Daddy on the radio?"

"What do you want to talk to him about?" Y/n looked at her daughter, amused.

"I want to ask if he ate the cookie I gave him!"

Y/n laughed and picked her up.

"Daughter, daddy can't chat during the race." She said, kissing the little girl's cheek.

"But he ate it, didn't he?" Pietra pouted.

"Yes, he ate it all. Don't worry."

Meanwhile, the race broadcast captured footage of the Ferrari garage, and Pietra and Marie appeared on the screen, cheering enthusiastically.

Commentators were quick to notice.

"And look who showed up again! Lewis Hamilton's daughters, always super involved in their father's racing."

"Exactly! Marie, the six-year-old daughter, even seems like part of the team, always attentive to the technical details. Meanwhile, Pietra is pure emotion!"

The race continued intensely and was approaching the end. Lewis was in the lead, and Pietra was holding the flag inside her backpack.

"I'll only take it off when he crosses the finish line!" She said determinedly.

Marie squeezed her mother's hand and whispered softly, "Come on, Daddy...you can do it."

Y/n felt a tightness in her chest, moved to see how much the girls admired their father. He was an example to them, and the connection between the three of them was unbreakable. Practically triplets.

On the last curve, Pietra already started pulling the flag from her backpack. And then, Lewis crossed the finish line.

"DADDY WON!" Pietra shouted and, without thinking twice, wrapped herself in the Union Jack and ran out of the garage, making the engineers and Alexandra laugh.

Y/n smiled, her eyes watering. Her husband had won at home, her girls were beaming with pride, and she knew that in that moment, Lewis was fulfilled.

She held her daughters’ hands and led them to the front of the garage, waiting to see Lewis before the podium ceremony. As he stepped out of the car, still holding his helmet, his eyes swept the room until they found him. Before he even hugged the engineers, he bent down and opened his arms to his daughters.

Marie smiled, and with Pietra they ran towards their father, still with the youngest wrapped in the flag, causing laughter from everyone around.

Lewis laughed and picked them both up, still kneeling on the floor.

"You didn't miss turn 3, Daddy!" Marie said with a proud smile.

"I knew you were going to win, because I was rooting for you so much!" Pietra added, holding his face with her little hands.

Y/n walked over, and Lewis looked up at her. His smile was tired but radiant. Before she could say anything, he pulled her into a tight hug, not caring about the sweat and dirt on his overalls.

"I just needed to look at you and remember what I run for." He murmured in her ear.

Y/n smiled, moved, and replied lovingly: "And I only need to look at you to remember how much I love you."

Pietra, still wrapped in the flag, made a playful face. "YUCK! Here comes the kiss!"

Lewis and Y/n laughed. He kissed the little girl's forehead and then gave his wife a quick peck.

Marie, ever observant, tugged on her father's arm and pointed at the car. "You wore out the tires, huh? I think that strategy almost backfired."

An engineer nearby laughed and commented, "Hamilton, I think your daughter could be our strategist in a few years."

"She's my number one co-pilot!" Lewis smiled and picked Marie up, spinning her around in the air, making her laugh.

In the middle of the celebration, Pietra, excited, accidentally wrapped herself completely in the flag, leaving only her face visible.

"Ah! Mommy, help me! I'm stuck!"

Lewis, seeing the scene, let out a loud laugh.

"Come here, champ," he said, bending down to unroll it. Pietra laughed along, swinging her arms as she finally freed herself from the cloth. "There, now put it over your shoulders and tie it here near your neck." Lewis demonstrated, arranging the flag like a cape. "That way, you won't get caught again."

"Thank you, Daddy!" The youngest smiled and Lewis's heart skipped a beat.

Lewis kissed her cheek and then looked at Y/n and Marie.

"I need to get ready for the podium."

"Let's wait down here!!" Y/n smiled.

The Ferrari team quickly secured a safe space for Y/n and the girls to watch the ceremony without being squeezed in by journalists, photographers and other people.

When Lewis stepped up to the podium and lifted the trophy, Pietra began to scream excitedly and wave the flag wildly, while Marie just smiled, clapping with pride. Both were on their mother's lap, who was doing her best to balance her girls. They were growing up so fast.

When it was time for the anthem, the girls sang together, respecting the solemn moment. Lewis, up there, exchanged an intense and loving look with Y/n. Neither of them said anything, but they both had tears in their eyes.

When it was time for champagne, Lewis pretended to point the bottle in their direction.

Pietra let out a little scream and hid in her mother's neck and pulled Marie to do the same. "NO, DADDY! I already took a shower!"

Everyone around laughed, including the other drivers on the podium.

When the ceremony was over, Lewis went down to the garage, where he found his three girls waiting for him. As soon as she saw him, Pietra ran to him.

"Daddy! Can we put the trophy in my room?"

Lewis laughed, shaking his head. "The trophies go to the team, my champion. But I promise I'll make a copy just for you."

Marie, more serious, took the trophy and examined it carefully. "The design is well done."

Lewis raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Now you're a trophy expert too?" Marie laughed and hugged her father's waist, making Lewis's smile widen and he stroked her straight hair, identical to his mother's.

Y/n stepped closer, putting her arm around his shoulders. "And you deserve every single one of them."

Time passed and while Lewis was in interviews and post-race meetings, Pietra made Y/n and Marie go to the Mercedes garage to talk to Aunt Carmen and Uncle George.

She explained every move her father made with the car and sometimes Marie had to intervene because she was exaggerating the facts. Which made them and Y/n laugh.

Y/n and Carmen spent a good amount of time chatting as well, while the girls showed George everything they had learned in ballet last week and made the Mercedes driver do some steps with them. Or, with Marie making him say some words in Portuguese that he had learned in his language class.

And now, after fulfilling all his post-race commitments, Lewis finally drove home with Yin and the girls. In the back seat, Pietra played with the flag, while Marie looked out the window, tired but still excited.

Y/n looked at her husband and joked, "I think your victory only happened because your fans were strong today."

"Definitely! I'll need them for every race now." Lewis laughed.

Halfway there, the girls became tired. Pietra fell asleep holding the flag against her chest, while Marie rested her head against the window and fell asleep.

Y/n watched the two of them and suddenly felt that tightness in her heart again. Lewis noticed her gaze, took one of his hands off the steering wheel and held hers affectionately. Without needing to ask, he smiled, as if he knew exactly what she was feeling.

"Our team can still grow, love."

"I know..." Y/n smiled back, squeezing his hand lightly. "I appreciate that, love. I love you!"

"I love you, my sunshine!" He kissed the back of her hand, before turning his attention back to the road. "And you know, I'm here for whatever decision you make." Y/n smiled, leaning her head back against the seat and admiring her husband every now and then.

[glassrowboat]

Letters For You

Valentine’s Day letters from Anaxa, Aventurine, Gallagher, Jing Yuan, Phainon, Ratio, Reca, Sampo, Sunday

Wrote these for my online friends, so I hope you all have a lovely Valentine’s. Love you all, xoxo

Anaxa

My fellow scholar,

I won't lie and pretend as if I wouldn't rather be spending my time doing something actually worthwhile like studying, but whenever I finally bring myself to put pen to paper in my hectic schedule I find myself unable to use my quill for its intended purpose. I bought it for note taking and truly wished to use it for that purpose, only for me to find myself unable to focus on the words before me as I am stuck thinking of you.

You see, these were originally meant to be notes, so excuse the scribbling at the top. It's all mindless drivel and half-baked theories I'm certain you're already planning to jump at. Your curious mind never rests, just like mine. Which is why I'm so loath to admit that even us scholars need a break.

With that in mind, I ask that you find me at our usual spot to enjoy the current festivities. I'm sure once we're done, it will leave us both refreshed and ready to return to work.

In best regards,

Anaxagoras

Aventurine

Dearest friend,

I already know what you're going to say about the gifts I have left for you. “It's too much or you should save your money on something else, Aven.” To the point I can almost hear the words ringing in my ear in that scolding tone of yours. It's just as bad as the higher ups scolding me for breaking the cornerstone and yet I can't help but want to spoil you.

But I'll be nice. Just this once.

Instead of dinner at another fancy restaurant you'll roll your eyes at, let's just get takeout from your favorite place and we can play dress up with all the clothes I got us. And yes some are for me, too. I'm sure if you dig around a bit you'll find a particular lacy item you and I can both agree has its merits.

Until tonight,

Aventurine

P.S. No overtime. I promise.

Gallagher

Babe,

I'm sure you've already figured out the bag of candy is for you. I even wrapped it up with a neat bow and everything for ya, so I hope you like it. If you want, we can even try making a drink out of a few of them like we did with the cotton candy vodka. Remember that? It was interesting, that's for sure.

We can even have what's left after dinner tonight. I'm cooking. Just for you, too. I was thinking of Clockie Pizza with all those toppings you like, and we could have it at the lounge? I'm sure Dreamjolt Hostelry will have open seats even on Valentine’s Day, knowing how dead the place usually is. I'll even dress up if you want me to. Though it might just be best to put myself in your or Sioban care to choose an outfit. Either way, I'm trusting you here, so don't let me down.

Your man,

Gallagher

Jing Yuan

My darling,

It's a beautiful day out, don't you think? The sky is clear and bright blue, the wind is just right, and the sun as artificial as it might be is perfect for dozing under its shining rays. I even found a record to play a song I remember from days long past. The only thing missing on this perfect day is you. And my work to be done, too.

I take it you're wrapped in endless stacks of paperwork just as I am, aren't you? Even after all the time, they managed to keep you this week. I'm merely lucky I'll have you all to myself once the day ends. The weekend will be ours to enjoy the garden, eat good food, play with our adorable little lion, and each other.

While we may not get Valentine’s Day together between your work and mine, I am happy to make sure we still get to enjoy being together. Besides, choosing only one day to love you when I would rather do so every day for every year you're willing to share with me is far more appealing than showing you appreciation only on special occasions.

Yours,

Jing Yuan

Phainon

My favorite shopkeeper,

Time really does flash by in an instant, huh? It feels like only yesterday that I came to The Holy City with the weight of the prophecy, both bearing a heavy weight on and lifting my shoulders all at once. Back then, I was ready to face the world as a Chrysos Heir alongside the others of golden blood without daring to think anything could stop me. I was going to be the one who takes Nikador's Coreflame, and I'll be the demigod of Strife. It will be a title I wear with honor.

And that is still my intention, mind you, but I've found something else that fills me with just as much conviction as being a hero to the masses. Do I even have to say what it is? It's you.

Ever since we first ran into each other at your shop and you were giving me a side eye (yes, I saw that) at all the questions I was asking about your collection of antiques I knew I would be willing to take a moment to step away from the duty I have sworn to uphold to simply be with you.

So I guess what I'm asking is: will you be my valentine?

Your hero,

Phainon

Ratio

My dear,

Today has already been full of one headache after the next from students deeming fit to load my desk with gifts to dealing with Aventurine texting me about how many roses is “too much.” At this point, all I want to do is go home and fall into your embrace.

Still, I have tests to grade. And from what I've seen of them, it's looking like some of them have finally learned how to pick up a thing or two after I started to use the method you suggested last time. As loath as I am to admit, I never would have thought to have my student role play as great mathematicians from the past to keep them engaged. It worked.

You truly astound me. Always finding new ways to show that creative thinking plays a part in being knowledgeable as well. You put the term genius to shame, my dear.

Sincerely,

Veritas Ratio

Reca

My love interest,

I have met countless actresses and actors who have been praised as if they were Aeons themselves. Looks, skills, the way the camera is naturally drawn to them, why you could name it all! Yet they all pale in comparison to you, my snookums.

No shot is truly complete without your radiance, without your smile, or without just the thought of you lingering in the back of my mind and changing how I see each scene laid out before me. You have changed how I view romance, entirely flipping the genre on its head for me to make something entirely new and unique. You inspired me in a way I never would have thought possible despite all the stories of star-crossed lovers I know. You have simply made me, for lack of a better word, more.

The only thing I could possibly regret about you is not meeting you sooner.

So allow me to make up for all the time we have had apart, my honey bee, by coming to a play with me as my valentine.

Your charming director,

Reca

P.S. I have entrusted the Assistant Director to be in your care today while I am away. She shall take care of you in my stead while I am away, my valentine.

Sampo

Boss,

It's me, your good old buddy, your pal, your bestest guy, Sampo! Now, now, before you go and throw this letter in the trash or worse yet, set my poor heartfelt words on fire, hear me out. I only have the purest intentions for you today, and that is on my honest word as a businessman.

It is Valentine’s Day, after all, and I can't have such a profitable holiday be soured for my favorite customer. That would just hurt my coin purse. So to ensure that doesn't come to pass, I took it upon myself to give you a gift as a show of gratitude for all you've done for me these past few years.

I'm sure you've noticed them by now.

Now, I hope you like the roses I left for you. They have a bit of an extra boom to them if you know what I mean. Just not the bomb kind. Though you do always manage to blow my heart away so who knows, maybe it is.

Your number one guy,

Sampo

P.S. Okay you can light the letter on fire now just know that if you do I'll be left with nothing to do but drink at the bar until I'm crying my eyes out all by my lonesome. Orrrrr…you could join me. I would never complain about getting some time in your delightful company.

Sunday

My dove,

This is my first Valentine’s Day away from Penacony, let alone on the Astral Express with a lover I can call my own.

I find myself still adjusting to the sudden change. There's no one watching my every move and expecting utter perfection from me now but me. I still find myself checking my clothes, assuring my feathers are neat, and shining my halo to the point that it shines in the light of the stars surrounding us. They remind me of just how vast this galaxy truly is. How my past choices were a flicker of a flame to everyone else, but to me, it was my last ditch effort at saving a dying light.

Everything is different now.

I find myself mourning.

Only for you to walk in the room and wash each thought away like the oncoming tide to a cluttered shore just with your gaze and a twitch of your lips. It's like I'm hit with a revelation again: that things do in fact get better.

So please, keep smiling as you always do, my valentine.

All the best,

Sunday

[witchygagirlwrites]

Antonio Dawson x Reader

Antonio is sick of seeing how Kelly drags your heart around

Companion piece to Never Thought

“She’s replacing Shay! There is no way possible I am ever going to like her!” That was the first thing Antonio ever heard about you from Gabby. He knew there was a new paramedic coming in after Shay’s death. Fifty one had gone through a few temps and none of them had really been a good fit, apparently Boden had found one he thought would work. “Give her a chance” he’d told his sister. He understood the gap of losing a partner, a friend but she very well couldn’t ride solo the rest of her career also.

One week later Gabby had a smile on her face when she was talking about the fact that someone had gotten aggressive with her on a call and you’d kept a smile on your face as you’d tripped the guy down the doorsteps then with all the sincerity in the world had told him “Oh no sir. It appears you’ve hurt yourself. Do you need to be checked out as well”  “What happened to never liking her?” he teased and Gabby shrugged “She’s not what I expected honestly. I think she’s gonna fit in” 

You were at fifty one for exactly one month the first time Antonio met you. Adam had caught a round to his vest but considering the bruising already spreading under it Voight wanted him ran to Med to make sure it wasn’t a collapsed lung like Kevin had happened once. When the ambulance pulled up Gabby hopped out and you followed. You were in work mode but still smiled up at him as Gabby said “Oh yeah, this one is my brother” “Nice to meet you. Heard a lot about you” he had to remind himself it wasn’t polite or professional to stare at the pretty paramedic, especially considering it was his sister’s partner and his partner was currently her patient.

“Nice to meet you too” he replied and you winked at him “See ya around Dawson” before you and Gabby loaded Adam in the rig and rolled off. Yeah, maybe he was hooked from then but it was too soon after his divorce and you weren’t even settled yet.

The longer you worked with Gabby the more her talking about you shifted from sounding like shop talk to her talking about her friend. It also meant he started getting to know you better.  You were smart as hell, damn near fearless and didn’t hesitate to run into danger even when you were scared if someone else was at risk. You had a weird sense of humor, loved strong coffee and sang along with Gabby to damn near every song on the radio. 

He watched you heal his sister’s heart as you worked your way into his. He couldn’t admit anything of course. You were his friend and sometimes that was even better because he got to see every side of you. 

You would show up in tow with Gabby, half drunk and giggly. You’d pop up to help wrangle his kids when he had them for the weekend and when he worked late a time or two he’d come in to you, Gabby and the kids all asleep in his living room floor in a blanket fort despite the fact that the kids were tiptoeing into their teens.

When intelligence would work a scene with CFD he’d find him having to catch not only his sister with her temper but you as well a time or two. You’d hold your tongue but if Gabby ever jumped? You were swinging without a second thought to back her up.

When you called him because there was a guy that wouldn’t leave you alone he took it upon himself to find the guy. He started coming by to follow you home every night just to make sure you got in your apartment ok. Then one night the guy was dumb enough to be waiting in the parking garage of your complex. He’d ended up cracking the guy’s cheek in two places and got him arrested.

He found himself falling for you but by the time he fully realized that it was too late. You were with Kelly Severide.

“Kelly isn’t treating her right” Antonio cut his eyes up at Gabby. “I know Severide wouldn’t ever lay his hands on a woman so what are we talking here?” she shrugged “He won’t commit to her. He flirts with other women constantly. He does everything shy of physically cheating then sweet talks his way with false promises back into her bed, using her heart against her” 

“What do you want me to do? If I say something and she stays with him, I’m the asshole trying to break them up” Antonio told her and she smiled slightly “Maybe, just maybe if she was faced with the fact that she has much better options available she’d kick his ass to the curb”

He shook his head “I am not telling her I have feelings for her” “Come on, don’t be a coward!” she teased and he shook his head “I’m not that kind of man” she crossed her arms, glaring at him “But you are the kind to see the woman you’ve been head over heels for get her heart dragged through the mud by some playboy while you’re sitting here wanting her and would treat her right?”

“And if she ever figures out he’s an idiot I’ll be right here” he replied and she threw up her hands in frustration “You are both idiots!”

Antonio walked into Mollys with intentions to just have a beer, hang out for a little while then head home. That was until he spotted you with his sister and her husband. He headed for the three of you “There’s my favorite paramedic” 

His sister turned first so he grinned “Oh, you’re here too Gabby” and she shook her head then you cut your eyes back at him “Hey Antonio” he smiled but when he met your eyes he knew something was wrong  “Cariño, what is wrong?” “Nothing” you answered a little too fast. He looked towards Gabby who looked across the bar so he followed her line of sight to see Kelly sitting close enough to some brunette they looked like they were on the verge of fucking right there in the bar. He felt anger flicker to life in him. He’d been holding back from you, biting his tongue for that? “Isn’t he dating you?” he asked, looking back at you and felt his heart crumple just a bit when you dropped your eyes to not look at him or Gabby “We’re not really dating” Gabby cursed under her breath but without meaning to he found himself laughing a bit “Good” 

Your eyes flew up to his “Good?” he nodded then cut his eyes at Gabby, letting her know he was taking her advice finally. She grabbed Matt’s hand and told you “Holler if you need me babe” then the two of them walked off.

You watched them then looked back at him “What?” he felt a smile slip onto his face “If you’re not really dating Severide then it shouldn’t really be an issue if I tell you I am so tired of seeing that man steal your smile” “Huh?” you asked, confusion plain on your face and god you looked fucking adorable. He nodded to the stool Gabby had been sitting on “Can I sit?” 

You nodded so he sat down, resting his hand next to yours on the bar and letting one finger trace over your knuckles gently “Gabby has told me a couple things. Don’t get mad at her, it’s just because she cares about you” and god knows his sister did. She fucking loved you. You nodded slowly, your eyes following the trail of his fingers before asking “What has she told you?” your voice was so small compared to normal he found himself lowering his own voice as he responded  “How Kelly has been dragging your heart through the mud”

You finally brought your eyes up to meet his and he smiled “You deserve much better than that. If he won’t commit to you, if he won’t see that there is a gorgeous amazing woman right here then he doesn’t deserve your attention and damn sure doesn’t deserve your heart. I’m not going to ask you out tonight because I’m not the type of man to take advantage of a bad situation but if you decided you’ve had enough and want someone that would want you and only you, I’d love to take you out sometime when you’re ready”

For a few heartbeats he was nervous he’d fucked up a friendship until you smiled “Will you walk me home?” he nodded “Of course” then stood to offer you his hand. You shivered as you stood so he looked around for your jacket “You didn’t bring a jacket?” You shook your head “I forgot one”  He slipped his jacket off and motioned for you to turn around “You don’t have to” you said and that alone, the fact that giving you his jacket when you were in a short sleeve and could see he was in a long sleeve was making you get all flustered made him want to knock Severide flat on his ass.

“I know” he told you and you finally turned to let him help you slip the jacket onto your arms. He had to admit, seeing you in it..you looked gorgeous in it.

“Now, come on. I’ll let my sister know I’m taking her partner home then if it sounds good I’d like to take you and Gabby out for breakfast tomorrow” you smiled “I’d like that”

_____________________

You and Antonio had just made it outside when he heard Kelly call your name and braced himself for a fight. He stepped to the side, letting you say whatever you felt the need to Kelly. This was your ballgame. “What Kelly?” you asked and Kelly looked between you and him “I look up to see you leaving the bar with him”

Ok that implication alone pissed Antonio off. “She asked me to walk her home” he spoke up and Kelly had the nerve to wave a hand dismissively towards him “Wasn’t talking to you” “You know what Severide” he took a step with every intention to see rather or not he could put the fireman flat on his ass but you slid between them at the last moment, a hand on both of their chests. “We are not doing this! Kelly repeat what you just said”

Kelly looked from your hand that was on his chest to your hand that was on Antonio’s “I looked up to see you leaving the bar with him” you nodded “You looked up because I was there for a good twenty minutes or more. The entire time you were so far wrapped up in another woman you never noticed me”

“We were just talking” Kelly defended and it took everything in Antonio to not laugh in the other man’s face. That was no damn excuse. You cut your eyes at Antonio “Give us a minute please?” so he nodded and took a few steps away but could still hear you as you said “Kelly do you think you could ever love me? Commit to just me fully?” he wanted to interrupt and tell you he could. He could easily see himself falling for you and just one word and he would be one hundred percent yours but he kept his mouth closed. 

After a long moment of silence stretched out you nodded “That’s what I thought. Now Antonio is going to walk me home and you’re free and clear to go in there and do more than talk with the gorgeous brunette ok?”  “Baby” Kelly finally managed and you sighed “Tell me you’ll stop flirting with other women..stop taking it so far that you do everything shy of physically cheating and mean it and I’ll come in the bar with you” “I can try to change” Kelly whispered and you shook your head “If you really wanted to there would be no effort required” 

Antonio found himself being so damn proud of you just for standing up for yourself. You never had to give him a chance. Just being able to witness you finally seeing your worth meant everything. You turned around to him and held out your hand “Dawson, walk me home?” he slipped his hand into yours and the two of you left Kelly standing on the sidewalk.

That following morning when Antonio pulled up to your apartment to pick you up to have breakfast with him and Gabby he saw something he hadn’t seen in a long time when you came out to his truck. You had a genuine smile on your face.

You slid into the passenger seat, cutting your eyes at him “Good morning” he nodded “Morning” when he pulled out onto the road you started messing with the radio dials and before long was humming along with the song. “Go ahead” he told you and a grin split your face before you started singing along and he found himself joining in.  You were so damn beautiful and looked relaxed for the first time in too damn long.

_______________________

It took a couple weeks before you were ready. Antonio was patient, he’d waited this long wasn’t like he was going anywhere now. You called him one day after you got off shift and asked if you two could grab dinner at the place down from your apartment complex. He’d agreed because why the hell wouldn’t he?

When he pulled into the parking lot you were standing next to your car and smiled when you saw him. The moment he stepped out of his truck you walked up to him and pulled him into a kiss. He froze at first, the moment having caught him off guard but the shock quickly wore off. He had you in his arms, finally. He was kissing you. His hands went to your hips, pulling you closer as he took control of the kiss, rolling his tongue against yours, a light noise leaving you that was nothing shy of heavenly. When the two of you started to pull apart you laughed lightly “Does that offer still stand of wanting me and only me?”

He nodded, forehead pressed to yours “Of course Cariño” and you smiled “I’d like to be yours now Antonio” “Good because I’ve been yours for some time mi amor”

The day Antonio figured out just how deeply in love he was with you was when he got a call you and Gabby were in med. Apparently some stupid son of a bitch had run your rig off the road. He was outside of a house preparing to go in but one look at Voight and he nodded “Get to your girls”

He wanted to check on his sister of course but seeing the line of staples on your head, it filled him with fear and anger. “Baby” he cooed, coming to sit next to you on the bed and you curled up on his chest “I’m ok. We’re ok” he nodded “You two scared the hell out of me” and you cut your eyes up at him when you realized he was in full gear “Did you leave a raid?” he nodded “Of course. I get a call my sister and the woman I love is hurt, nothing is stopping me from getting to you”

The smile you gave him made his heart threaten to burst out of his chest “I love you Antonio. So damn much” he pulled you against his chest “I love you too” that weekend he got Gabby to go shopping with him. Who better to help pick out an engagement ring than your best friend? 

[bambi-kinos]

Dakota Days Review

I got an ask requesting I post the Dakota Days review. The rest of the ask will be mega long so I don't want to just add on the review to the end and make it an even bigger read. So I'm posting this as its own free-floating thing.

So my deal is that in 2023 and 2024 I had enough time on my hands that I read a shitton of Beatle books (including most of the books in my big recommendation post, which I am still thinking about updating so keep in mind it hasn't achieved its final form.) I regularly talk these over with a friend and this review is mostly what I told her when she asked if she should read it or not. Either this will sell you on the book or it will not lol. I did some light editing for readability but otherwise it is mostly intact from the original post date February 13, 2023....good God, 2 fucking years ago!

Okay so Dakota Days. It's an account of John Green, also known as Charlie Swan who was a tarot reader that was close to the Lennons following John's return from his Lost Weekend.

Charlie states from the start that he is only trying to impart a snapshot of what it was like to live with John and Yoko during this time. He straight up admits that he has edited out certain parts of it to respect their privacy (and to cover his own ass as he did his fair share of scamming Yoko during this period.) He also straight up admits that he smushed together many years, events, and conversations in the book. He explains this very sensibly: while he claims a prodigious memory (which will prove not to be the case) he also says that he just spent too many years in John and Yoko's employment to recount all of them without boring the reader.

This is a very effective tactic. Charlie is deliberately telling us something that he is doing (editing the accounts of what happened) because it will make us trust him more. Being honest about misdoings you've done or will do tends to get people to like you more. This is what con artists do when they are trying to get people to fall for their schemes: they will tell you what they are doing and then they will do it. It is effective because it works. Charlie tells us that he is either misremembering or covering his own ass and because he does this we like him, which primes us to accept everything he says.

Charlie gets called up by Yoko only a few hours after John drags home. She renames him Charlie Swan because she knows John will be jealous of him having the same name. Charlie goes along with it because he knows Yoko is an easy mark; he claims in the text that he found John at Disney World of all places and that this is how Yoko ended the long weekend. Considering this is not how it happened we can guess that what Charlie actually did was pull the wool over Yoko's eyes and then claim credit for it. Again, a very effective tactic.

What happens next is really interesting: John feigns being poisoned. He's told Yoko that May poisoned him in his tea. Charlie reads the cards and they tell him "no way was John poisoned" and John leverages this to get Yoko out of the room. John picks Charlie's brain about the occult for a while and then lets him go home after a few hours.

Won't recount everything that happens next but I will say this: Dakota Days is the second half of the story about John's Dakota years and it compliments Fred's book perfectly. Fred depicted a manic John and a cold, distant Yoko. Charlie depicts a depressive John and an anxious Yoko in desperate need of hand holding at every single stage in her life. The amount of time and money that John and Yoko spend on con artists like Charlie as well as their other astrologers, mystics, and Korean herb healers is astounding. They were completely and utterly paralyzed with terror if they had to make decisions on their own. Indecisive, fretful, worried, anxious, Yoko straight up has a panic attack at one point because Charlie orders her to make a decision on her own and she almost dissolves into tears because she can't do it.

The funny part is I find none of these depictions at odd with one another. Yoko's imperious mask always hid the frightened baby underneath and John's aggressive ego always hid the broken hearted lover who wanted to be anywhere but where he was. Yoko didn't give Fred an "in" because he was a servant but she feared and respected Charlie so she could afford to be a broken little girl in front of him. John respected Charlie as a magician and hung on his every word. He didn't see a point in pretending to be something he wasn't like he did with Fred.

Charlie's big thing in the book is that he depicts himself as Spitting Straight Facts at John and Yoko. He condenses these into different conversations. For example, at one point Yoko takes John to Japan for a few months because she wants to convince him to live there full time. All of their clothes are packed according to what Charlie's tarot cards tell them are lucky to take. Yoko asks him to cast spells to keep John in a good mood. They plan out their journey to follow certain directions based on Japanese numerology that calculates the luck of cardinal directions. (Charlie cheerfully admits that this is outside of his education so he can't give an opinion on it. This is part of his set up, he doesn't have a problem admitting his weaknesses which makes him come off as more honest than he really is.)

It all goes wrong within two weeks: John hates Japan. Absolutely hates it. He hates having to entertain Yoko's family. He hates the hotels they are in. Yoko calls Charlie on the verge of tears and tells him that John is humiliating her in front of her family -- apparently Yoko's mother and sister called Yoko out on her bullshit and they accused her of accomplishing nothing with her art. (Holy shit, based?!) Yoko is desperate for John's wealth and status to impress her mother and tells Charlie, "I know what they say about me, they say that all I did was marry John and spend his money!" Which is of course absolutely true.

Yoko is desperate to win her mother's favor because she wants Sean to get a sizable piece of the inheritance but she was so disgusted with Yoko that she wouldn't even acknowledge Sean. (Brutal.) Yoko takes this personally because her sister Setsuko married a Westerner, a diplomat, and Yoko dissolves into hysterics over the phone demanding that Charlie tarot read for new, luckier clothes and have them air mailed to them. As far as I know, Charlie did it because it was an order and Yoko was paying his bills.

It gets worse though because John starts shuffling around like a zombie, moaning, whacking his head against the walls, etc. He tells Charlie that he's pretending to be dead. (I actually think I know what John was doing -- he probably absorbed some of Japan's pop culture about ghosts and he started imitating it.) This freaks out Yoko's family and her mother asked what the hell she was doing bringing this fucked up white guy to Japan. Charlie depicts himself as being the only person John can vent to which is something that I actually believe even though it probably didn't go down in precisely this way.

When Yoko tells John that they're going home soon, John perks up. He starts wooing Yoko's mother and makes nice with her. The funny part is that after all that, John actually succeeded in making Yoko's mother like him! Of course Yoko calls Charlie, again almost in tears, and tells him "John is doing it all wrong, he's being friendly with her, he's not holding her at a distance, he's buying her things and taking her out to fancy eateries!" Yoko is depicted as flat out hysterical in this conversation, enraged and upset that John charmed his way into her mother's good graces instead of making her submit by being ice cold and imperious (aka acting like Mimi) which dissolves her into anguish. And then, at the end of it all, Charlie says that Yoko is being ridiculous and it's a good thing that John is finally getting along with her mother. (Hittin' hard with that street wisdom!) Yoko is very bitter in response. After that chapter I thought, "man Charlie is putting up with a lot huh."

The entire book goes this way. It depicts a John that will make grand gestures towards Yoko (he has Charlie perform a "druidic" marriage ceremony to reaffirm his marriage to Yoko and Charlie has a GREAT time making shit up and forcing John to gather all this bullshit stuff that has nothing to do with Celtic traditions, Charlie's account is so so gleeful about making John dance like a monkey) but actively loathes her the rest of the time. Charlie outright states that their relationship is unhappy.

For example, when Sean was born, John was crazy with worry and made up the Dakota to be more comfortable for Yoko and the baby. But when Yoko finally came home she immediately handed Sean to the nanny (which John HATED, he tried to make her pick Sean back up because he was so upset) and went to her room after a huge fight with John. John then sat down with Charlie and bitterly vented about the fact that he knew Yoko didn't appreciate him and that he was furious that she smoked through her pregnancy and that she wasn't interested in Sean. He accuses her of making Sean sick which is probably true considering Yoko was probably on heroin through out the pregnancy! John is actually kind of stunning here because he is utterly pissed off at Yoko for putting Sean's health at risk and then snubbing John when she finally gets home. His breakdown when Yoko comes home is incredible. They have a baby that she hyped up to Charlie as a Messiah and then she didn't want him. And it still didn't make her love John. The despair in his words.

A lot of the conversations that Charlie depicts follows this pattern. At one point John gets so angry about Yoko's coldness that he picks a fight with her, gets in her face, and just starts screaming at her. She runs out of the room crying because she's frightened of him and then calls Charlie to do a tarot card reading on why John was so mad at her. Charlie speculates it's because she doesn't communicate well with John and he was trying to shake something loose. She goes on a long rant about why this can't possibly be the case because she's only doing what's best for him so please Charlie read the cards…. of course when Charlie spoke to John, John replied that he was angry that Yoko speaks Japanese because he doesn't understand what she's saying to the servants and he thinks that they're talking about him. He's paranoid and angry that she's doing something that he can't get involved with. So he started screaming at her and throwing cigarette packets at her.

At times like this, when Yoko and John are fighting, Charlie takes on an interesting role. He will tell them hard truths about their relationship that they don't like. When Yoko whines that John is being too independent in 1979, Charlie tells her that this is a good thing and that she should be happy that John doesn't need to be managed. He also tells her that she and John will be happier if they are independent of each other. This bounces off Yoko completely and she whines (Yoko is VERY childish in this book) that this isn't possible or safe because John is too stupid (!!) and naive (!!) to make decisions on his own.

Charlie very deliberately depicts himself almost as a marriage counselor to them. You can see his prodigious perfect memory fails him at these junctures because when he relays conversations, John and Yoko don't sound like themselves most of the time. But the funny part is, I totally believe it. I actually do think that Charlie Swan had moments where he gave his unvarnished opinion about JohnandYoko to John and Yoko. He could do this safely for a few reasons:

1) He knew they considered him superior to them. He successfully dug a foothold in their minds and had them both totally convinced that he was legit. They couldn't throw him out because he was their closest tarot reader and it looks like he also had a legitimate head for business because he was able to give them some good financial advice. All of this meant that they were in awe of him and neither of them wanted to go against what he said. They were completely at his mercy. In a way I think it's lucky that Charlie wasn't more malicious because he could have manipulated John and Yoko into doing some depraved shit if he felt like it. They both worshipped him completely. Independent sources verified that John called Charlie "the Oracle" and it wasn't all a jest.

2) Conmen are incredibly good at reading people. They see our weaknesses and they understand them. He had John and Yoko sized up the moment he met them. He realized John and Yoko were both inherently childish, very credulous, willing to believe anything, and that they would only take the easy way out. They wanted self improvement to come only at the cost of their check books. They loved spending money (I think they both had shopping addictions -- I know because I have a shopping addiction) and they didn't want to be disciplined in the slightest. In fact Charlie depicts several moments where outside parties force John and Yoko to be disciplined and they both react like children being forced to sit in the time out chair.

3) John and Yoko, being very petulant, lazy, and weak at this stage of their lives, were totally impervious to criticism. John at least admitted that he knew Charlie was right about certain things but Yoko always had excuses for why she couldn't give John a longer leash/respect him as her life partner, be nice to her mother (Charlie at one point straight up asks why she's being such a bitch to her mother and Yoko is full of pathetic excuses), spend time with her baby, etc. (She couldn't buy farmland on her own because she didn't know how to ascertain if any of the property was good, so she had Charlie do readings so she didn't have to take responsibility for it.) John and Yoko did not want to shoulder any kind of responsibility for anything at all. They are both depicted as sleepwalking through life, becoming outraged when anything temporarily waylaid them.

You could give them as many hard truths as you wanted and it would never take because they will never ever accept it or act on it or own their mistakes. John and Yoko are often at odds in the book, screaming and arguing with each other, John fucking things up on purpose for Yoko's family, but when it comes to Growing The Hell Up, they were a united couple saying "no the hell we will not!"

This is reading between the lines now but I think Charlie is straight up laughing at them at some points and he's letting us in on the joke. He knows that so long as they remain petulant and undisciplined, he will always have a job. So he can tell them honestly to their faces that they are bad parents, that they are a terrible couple, that John is a sullen asshole and Yoko is a whiny bitch, and they will never ever fire him. They will argue with him but Yoko will have him back in her bedroom in 15 minutes to get him to read tarot cards for her again.

A few things I found interesting:

Sean is not portrayed at all in the book. John once describes Sean as overly quiet and meek especially around John and John says it's because he knows Sean is frightened of him. Interesting that this is at odds with Fred's portrayal of Sean. However I actually feel a little soft towards Charlie Swan on this because I think he did it to protect Sean, the way he said he would protect the Lennons' privacy at the beginning of the book. I legit think he was shielding Sean because Sean under 18 when Charlie published this. I think he didn't want Sean to have to wrestle with being depicted in a memoir at that age. The Dakota situation is so fucked up that I legit believe that this expert scam artist might have been in the only moral person on John and Yoko's payroll. I say this because Charlie is absolutely fearless towards John and Yoko in this book so he clearly didn't give a shit about being sued for libel. So IMO he did it to protect Sean because Sean was only a child.

John goes in a 15 month depression in 1978 because Sean once asked him (after seeing one of their poor cats fall out of a window) what happened to the cat that died. John tells him that the cat went to the Land of the Dead because it fell, explaining that nothing can survive a fall out of a window that high. Sean apparently thought about it and said "then Daddy, why haven't you walked out the window?" Jesus Christ.

Charlie scolds John for being a shitty parent and tells him that Sean is just a kid and that he doesn't understand what he's saying. He's just repeating things that he's heard around the house, and if you read between the lines you can feel Charlie judging John and Yoko because Charlie understands that this exposure to the occult is fucking Sean up. John becomes very surly and asks him "how the hell do you know" to which Charlie replies "I studied art therapy and child psychology in college for my teaching degree." (Independent verification has proven that this is true!) John sinks even deeper into a funk that yet another person is proving to be more knowledgeable about John's children than John himself, and rolls over in bed, beginning a 15 month period where he won't see anyone. He just lays there watching tv with the sound off.

Yoko is constantly on edge. She's obsessed with what people think of her. Charlie describes 1979/80 as being very trying because Yoko constantly repeating the same questions for Charlie to read for, trying to divine what stories journalists will write about her next.

John is similarly obsessed with having a positive PR image. He's deeply upset that no one liked his Rock n Roll or Shaved Fish albums (because they don't have new material.) John spends an entire chapter moaning that he hates his audience because they don't love him enough. Then he admits that he thinks he owes them new material but that he won't commit to anything without having a decent stock of songs to burn through. Then he swivels back to piling more blame onto his audience and continues bitching that they don't love him enough to make up for the anguish that he feels all the time. He piled a lot of blame and resentment onto The Public for not being able to "fix" his sadness.

At one point Yoko wants to buy blessings/curses from an actual witch so they go to Brazil. They find a bruja and Charlie intimates to the audience that brujas are expert con artists in a class of their own. He relates that a bruja once sabotaged a building project at which time the builders invited her onto the property to do an """exorcism""" from which she made a tidy profit and they were able to resume building. (Charlie does not depict it in precisely this way but he relates the story in such broad ""magical"" terms that you can see him grinning, pointing, winking, and nodding at you from across the room. Charlie made it as obvious as he possibly could that he was totally fucking with these people and that he knew when other magicians were fucking with people as well.)

Yoko has to sit through a week of a Brazilian woman putting her through fake and expensive rituals, all while putting on a fake Jamaican accent??? Yoko is so dumb and desperate that she doesn't see through it. Charlie is incredibly contemptuous through out the section. He does have an interesting "magic" battle with the bruja (here called Nora, her actual name was Lena) where they size each other up and the bruja agrees to take Yoko on as a client. Eventually Yoko gets cold feet and begs Charlie for a way to get her out of the rituals because she's scared that Nora mentioned a "blood sacrifice" and Yoko doesn't want to kill someone.

To which Charlie replies: "Yoko, why don't you just tell Nora how you feel? You're the client, if you don't want to make a blood sacrifice then just ask Nora to do something different. I don't think she's going to kill a person but if you're that worried then you can tell Nora about your concerns and she'll either change it or explain what will happen. You're paying her, remember?"

Yoko dissolves into more hysterics. She's scared the bruja will put a curse on her or Sean or John. She's too anxious to ask for clarification or help. Charlie rolls his eyes through the entire section.

Then the actual ritual happens, Nora kills a dove (poor thing) and then tells Yoko to sign her name to sell her soul to…something? I actually didn't understand what, though Charlie told Yoko "it's impossible for you to sell your soul so just go along with it dumbass."

But Yoko melts down. She can't do it. She begs Charlie to sign on her behalf and it sounds like she was actually crying because she was so scared. Charlie and Nora both sigh but Charlie signs the document and Nora goes "okay, done!"

Yoko then asks Charlie "Hey did you sign Charlie Swan or John Green?" To which Charlie replies, "what makes you think I signed either of those names?" Yoko freaks out and follows him around going "What name did you sign?? Whose soul did you sell??? Charlie?!!!! Charlie!!!!" But he never tells her lmao. He is so fucking contemptuous of her, it's amazing. This sequence is Charlie Swan rubbing his superiority in Yoko's face with utter glee, and he completely gets away with it. She's too scared to argue with him.

Obviously Charlie doesn't talk about everything here. For example, he and Sam Green both pulled a fast one on Yoko by counterfeiting a painting and selling it to her -- her own boyfriend! It was a complete success, she paid them both handsomely for it. He doesn't talk about that here. But it's clear from the outset IMO that he lies his ass off about tarot reading through out the entire book and is able to do as well as he does because he does actually have some good business sense.

I have to be honest: I respect the fuck out of Charlie Swan. This man is a king. He scammed John and Yoko out of millions. He did so well that he could tell them how awful they were to their faces and they had no choice but to swallow it whole. They didn't have the sac to stand up to him. And he was kind enough to write this book and show us how he did it: by taking advantage of their fear, petulance, and refusal to grow up. Dakota Days is an amazing book.

I have decided that the rocknroll industry is one big trailer park and John and Yoko had the biggest trailer. John is straight up wandering around in a robe and curlers reading the astrology and Dear Abby sections of the newspaper, Yoko is knocking back forties wondering when she can upgrade to the younger model. Sean is their poor kid with a learning disorder that is doing the pyromaniac thing. Going to Swiss boarding school (so that Yoko didn't have to be reminded of John) is probably what straightened him out and saved him.

Not trying to diss trailer parks, I met a lot of nice people who lived in them when I worked insurance, so pulling more from sitcom trash here. But John and Yoko fought, a lot, like these types of couples always do (that anecdote of Pete Shotton's second phone call where Yoko is screaming her head off in the background. I live next to a trashy family like this.) Who knows what Sean heard and what he repeated because he was so young.

This is the book that convinced me that John retreated into the Dakota out of shame. He knew that being with Paul was the best thing that ever happened to him, the only good thing, and he fucked it up with drugs and untreated mental illness. Which sadly has to be hung around his own neck. He blew his life up for no reason and he hid because he knew that.

John thought there were only two options: go back to Yoko or eat crow and go back to Paul. He couldn't stand either but at least with Yoko he didn't have to dance for the press. It never occurred to him that he had options and could do anything.

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Weekend Ramblings

Thame·Po Episode 10

Yeah, I'm late but my brain was not working properly on friday, so, now works. Congrats on the sex! I love this friend group so much. This episode was a lot. First of all Baifern needs to go touch grass. I did appreciate that the show went there, all things considering, but she made me mad. And not that I needed more proof, but Po is a better person than me. Also I hate Pemika and this whole thing around idols and dating. It's insane, but obviously eventually the company will come around, cause glass houses and all that. The PepperGam noble idiocy thing was a bit whatever, although still heartbreaking, but I'm hoping this means that our mains won't follow in their footsteps. This show is as close to perfection as I have seen from gmmtv in a while, so let's not ruin it. The best part was definitely seeing the group supporting each other. The hand holding at the press conference had me all emotional. I'm giving up on screaming at Thame. I guess since they were technically already caught, he's not bothered. Not that he acted like he ever was. Thame and Po continue to be them. I just love how even through all this, they keep checking in on each other.

GelBoys Episode 2

Never has a show made me feel so ancient. Also this show is a massive reminder of how much I absolutely hated all that love drama in high school. I had zero patience for it. Obsessively rereading messages, overanalysing every word to find some hidden meaning, wondering, Does he actually like me? Honestly, I’m exhausted just thinking about it. And on top of that, I’m beyond grateful that I didn’t have to deal with any of it in the era of smartphones, social media, selfies, apps, and so on. So much angst. I guess playlists are the new mixtapes. It's certainly easier. I continue to really like the atmosphere, it feels very grounded. And although I like Fou4Mod, I adore Baabin, so I'm not a huge fan of the way Fou4Mod is using him to make Chian jealous. Like since he's his bestie, he could've at least been honest. I'm sure he'd be on board. And I know he's gotta learn this for himself but, Fou4Mod, sweetie, this is a terrible idea. You are going to be crying a lot on that train in the future. But, I mean, who hasn't done that before?

Perfect 10 Liners Episode 17

I got YothaGun and PondSand. What a joy! I really could watch Perth do anything but seeing him being the biggest love sick puppy is a special treat. Faifa seems to have a bit of a savior complex, which we kinda knew but it's pretty obvious now. I love characters that hide their pain behind a smile, and he's so kind on top of that, so of course I love him. I also liked that he noticed Wine's overall mood and checked in with him about boundaries. I'm hoping Wine can break some of his walls and perhaps teach him the word 'NO.' I'm thinking maybe we won't get a side couple this time because we have enough couples to check in with, in between FaifaWine stuff, but we'll see.

The Boy Next World Episode 7

First of all, it was great to see Thorn/Tong again, I keep forgetting this is part of the TharnType Universe. As I said last week, BossNouel can bring it in those scenes, but I still feel like I'm watching RainPhayu. Now Cir, you had to see this coming, no? I mean you only had like a million chances to come clean. I feel bad for Phu, but I gotta say, last week I thought he might have an inkling about this, but maybe not?Now…for that ending and the preview. So not multiple universes, but something else is going on. He's dissociating. I'm intrigued and worried if they will land this part of the story. It seems we'll be getting our beloved amnesia trope and I'm so excited about it. Honestly I was thinking maybe he doesn't really have amnesia and he's faking, but wouldn't that be a bit much, all things considered? I mean, they’re going to end up together, so I’d really love to not completely despise Cir by then. The second half of the episode was strange though, pace wise. It felt a bit disconnected, and rushed. Part of it might be intentional, given Phu's state of mind, but it still felt weird to me. The sides are kinda cute, although I must admit, Wim gets on my nerves a bit. That dude must end each day with a tension headache. Like seriously, he's so tense it makes me stressed. And also, why is he so annoyed by Jin?, cause like he listed a bunch of stuff but honestly I don't see it. Wim needs to forget about Cir for 5 seconds and focus on something else. This animosity feels a bit forced.

Sangmin Dinneaw Episode 8 [Finale]

I honestly don’t even know where to start. I’ve come to expect a certain level of whiplash from this show, but this was on an entirely different level. We went from child abuse and murder plot straight into that cucumber scene. I can’t even begin to imagine the thought process behind it. This was a roller-coaster, and not in a good way. That said, at least we finally got a storyline where a guy gets revenge on his abusive parents, so that wasn’t terrible. But the fact that the hotel dude didn't get run over is unfortunate. Now that it’s over, I genuinely don’t know what to say. The main couple was cute enough, and the sides were decent, but overall, this whole thing was a mess. Honestly, the ending was the only part that felt even remotely normal. And still I'm not sure about the amnesia. But who cares? Most of this makes no sense and I'm not gonna waste any more time trying to figure it out.

[idontmindifuforgetme]

Going out is literally so boring to me rn I can’t believe I used to do it every weekend at one point

[luxaofhesperides]

(yourlocalcorviddad)

Wait wait wait, can there be more written about the one with Duke going on college tours with Danny??? If it's not too late?!??

(part one)

Danny’s been in love with Duke for years now. It’s always been kept a closely guarded secret, buried under as many wraps as he could get it. He tried to chase after other fleeting crushes in the hopes of moving on from his feelings for Duke, sure that they were never going to go anywhere.

How could they, when they lived states apart? 

The Danny back then would have never believed that he would one day be waking up in Duke’s arms in a hotel far away from home, traveling around the country to figure out a future together. 

Or rather, planning their own futures by each other’s sides, rather than planning to be together throughout college. Danny knows they’ll be spending even more years apart, chasing after their dreams, but it’s a gift just to a a summer together again. So what if it leads them to living on opposite sides of the country? They’ve managed to survive a long distance friendship for this long, they can keep it up for another few years.

And if it comes to it, Danny can just fly to wherever Duke is. He’s only gotten faster over the years, settling into his powers and practicing them so often. 

The future is daunting, but all his nerves are chased away by Duke’s smiles. 

“Can’t believe we’re almost done,” Duke says as they get settled at a restaurant in Massachusetts. They’re both tired, but the giddiness of getting together, of knowing their feelings are requited, keeps them energized and happy despite the long drive across state lines. 

“One state left, yeah?”

“Yeah, and I got Harvard first on the list so we can visit Jazz.”

“You’re the best,” Danny grins, stretching his legs out under the table to lightly knock his foot against Duke’s. 

This entire trip has felt like a daydream to him. It’s one thing being able to travel around the country with Duke, but to be able to kiss him wherever they go? Even now, two weeks later, Danny can’t believe how happy he is.

It makes the uncertainty of his future less scary. It helps distract him from how much he wants to escape his parents, despite how much he loves them.

Their conversation comes to a brief pause as a waiter comes by to take their order, writing everything down before hurrying away to keep up with the rush of activity in the semi-busy restaurant. 

“Oh,” Danny says, suddenly remembering the third person in their group, “Is Peter going to be joining us?” 

Peter, Duke’s chaperones, is odd but funny. He disappears and reappears like a magician, always carries a gun on him, and treats Duke like a little brother the rare moments he’s around. He’s mostly only been with them to act as transport, driving them around from university to university. 

Duke’s face does something strange when he hears Peter’s name, but it’s gone before Danny can figure out what that’s all about.

“Nah,” he answers, “He’s off doing his own thing. You’ve seen how he likes to follow his own plans.”

“So I guess we’re stopping here for the day?”

“Yeah. I’m sure we can find somewhere nice to spend the night, and until then we can explore—” Duke takes a quick moment to check the name of the town they’re in, helpfully stated on the restaurant’s wall of five star reviews “—Baldwinville. I’m sure there’s something for us to do around here.”

“I mean, we don’t have to do anything special, you know. I’d be happy to just to spend the day with you.”

Duke smiles softly, reaching over the table to take hold of Danny’s hand. “I’d like that too. Maybe we should just take some time and explore the place together. Have a relaxing day before we head to Cambridge.”

“That’ll be nice. I feel like it’s been forever since I had a quiet day.”

“Same!” Duke laughs. “Gotham’s wild, man. Did I ever tell you the story of having a barbeque with Killer Croc?”

“No! I can’t believe you kept that from me!”

Duke launches into the story as if it’s any other day, just the two of them hanging out. Danny’s enraptured as he always is when Duke shares his Gotham Stories. He doesn’t falter even when their food is brought out, and Danny tries not to blush too hard when Duke feeds Danny some of his meal, just so he can try it. 

There’s a reason Danny sometimes daydreams about what his wedding with Duke will look like, and it’s because of this.

But that’s getting way ahead of himself! He shoves the thoughts away and focuses on the story, enjoying their lunch together. 

Duke pays when they’re done, as has become routine; Danny had fought him about the first few times before Duke told him that it was all ‘Bruce fucking Wayne’s money so they don’t need to worry about costs.’ It’s a gift from the man himself to Duke, and rejecting it would be rude. 

That hit Danny right in his midwestern politeness and he could do nothing but let it happen, already planning thank you gifts for Bruce Wayne. 

They walk out into the quiet streets of Baldwinville, hand in hand. Summer has the air humid and full of buzzing insects, and the sweet scent of flowers surrounds them as they head down the sidewalk, idly looking into the display windows of each store they pass. The buildings are old, mostly made of brick, and carry a charm that’s lacking in the urban sprawl of Amity Park.

He likes it here. 

Honestly, he’s been liking a lot of what he’s seen in Massachusetts. 

He wouldn’t mind spending a few years here as he gets his Bachelor’s degree. Of course, it all depends on if he gets into the colleges of his choice, but he’s feeling hopeful about his future. He’s worked hard to bring his GPA up after his freshman year, and his ability to juggle and extreme workload has made him a master at getting things done before deadlines and adapting to things at the last minute. 

Danny idly swings their clasped hands between them as they walk, savoring the time they have together. 

The end of their summer trip is creeping up on them and Danny can feel the distance between them start to pull tight. 

They don’t speak until they wander into a park, just a large grassy field filled with wildflowers and bees. There are a few benches placed beneath large trees and Duke leads them over to it to take advantage of the offered shade.

“I can’t believe we’re almost done,” Duke says, sitting down with a sigh. He tugs Danny down after him, and Danny goes willingly. He swings his legs up to drop them across Duke’s lap, leaning against him, his heart fluttering when Duke gets a hand around his thigh to keep him in place. 

“I don’t want this summer to end,” Danny admits. “I’m not ready to leave you again.”

“Hey, we’ll figure it out. I’m not going to be away from you any longer than I have to.”

Danny can’t resist the urge to lean over and kiss him, so he doesn’t. Duke meets him with a smile, keeping the kiss slow and sweet, though the way his hand skates up Danny’s thigh sends molten heat through his veins.

He pulls back before they can escalate any further (one time in public was enough; he’s still embarrassed by it and can’t look Peter in the eyes) and leans his head against Duke’s shoulder. “It would be nice if we could live together.”

“Planning out our future already? Well, in that case, I want a dog and a pet snake.”

“Why a pet snake?”

“Just feel like it.”

“A dog would be nice,” Danny says, “As long as it gets along with Cujo. Not sure about the snake, but if you can take care of it, I’d be fine with having it around.”

“Think you’d ever live in Gotham?”

Danny considers, then shrugs. “Maybe. I dunno, it sounds like a lot and I already dealt with so much just with the ghosts in Amity Park. But I don’t think I’d mind if I was with you.”

The smile that crosses Duke’s face is soft and Danny wants to see it all the time. He loves when Duke gets flustered; Danny just turns red and shy, but Duke becomes soft and adoring in a way that makes Danny feel like he’s holding sunlight, all warm and happy.

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Duke says, not yet able to bite back his smile. “Now that we’ve visited most of the places on our list, do you know which ones you’re going to apply to?”

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Danny answers. He’s been thinking about where he wants to go since summer started and he left school with Mr. Lancer reminder everyone to think about college and preparing their applications. 

It’s been a topic that’s never left his mind since for the past couple months, wondering about what the future holds for him. He honestly never thought he’s get this far, having died at 14 and struggled to adapt to how his life changed after. But he’s gotten back on track with school, has a handle on the ghosts, and the support of his parents to go anywhere he wants. 

For so long he’s been stuck in the routine of school, fight, struggle. There was never any time for anything else, much less planning for the future, and now it’s hanging heavy over his head. 

At least he gets to be with Duke as he figures things out. It’s like going back to their childhood, spending summers together, but they’re both grown up now, walking ever closer to the next stages of their lives. 

He’d love to get into MIT, but he knows the chances of being accepted are insanely low. He’ll apply anyways, just in case, but Danny’s prepared to go somewhere else. Maybe somewhere else in Massachusets. Or maybe go to New York. 

“I really liked the Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute. If I get in, I think I’m gonna go there,” Danny says, putting his hopes for the future into words.  

“Yeah? I think I might try to get into a college up here too,” Duke replies. “If things work out, we won’t be so far from each other.”

“And even if we do end up far away again, we can make long distance work. Right?”

There’s a worry in the back of his mind that Duke won’t like a long distance relationship, that he’ll be off in college falling in love with someone else, but there’s barely a second before Duke says, “Of course,” as though it’s obvious. Like he hadn’t considered any other option. 

Danny’s heart settles and he shoves away the rest of his general anxieties. There’s no time for that now! 

He intends to enjoy the rest of his summer trip with Duke to the fullest extent possible, which means all of that is a problem for Future Danny.

“Should we go find Peter? We’ll need to figure out where we’re staying tonight.”

“I think we can go a few more hours to a bigger town,” Duke says, “Not that this place isn’t nice, it’s just too quiet. It’s weird.”

“Alright, city boy,” Danny says, standing up from the bench. He pulls Duke up after him, leaning over to kiss the exaggerated offended expression off his face. It’s not like he’s wrong, anyways; Gotham is a big city, and Duke is an urban boy through and through, especially compared to Danny, who comes from a large town and has family living in reclusive rural Appalachia.

“Small towner,” Duke returns, nipping lightly at Danny’s bottom lip and laughing when he squeaks in surprise.

He pulls away before Danny can retaliate, and Danny lets him go, saving his revenge for after they get to their next hotel. 

Their time together is coming to an end soon, and as much as the future terrifies and excites him in equal measure, knowing Duke will be with him, one way or another, gives him the courage to keep going.

He hopes Jazz will be happy that Duke’s dating him now. He’s already hoping to ask her to be a bridesmaid for him.

[swagging-back-to]

worst trope is found family separating as soon as the antagonist is dealt with.

[babymorte]

since the move might be happening sooner than expected im looking at different city options in case plans fall through and i have to go to a more affordable city until i can save up to move to the dream destination and honestly cape disappointment sounds perfect

[la-galaxie-langblr]

what is going on w my brain

[roaringroa]

they should make a life where you don't have appointments, work, school and scheduled events every single day for months on end

[genekies]

tag vent

[cowboyskeletons]

*insane about media voice* i am normal about media

[rationalisms]

hi. i would just like to say that this is an attitude i've seen around increasingly often and i find it deeply baffling. like, genuinely could not relate any less to what is being expressed here.

personally, almost all media i'm obsessed with and talk about constantly is because i think it's good and i love talking about the ways in which it's good. yes, criticism can be fun and breed conversation, but so can positive critique. thoughtful, long-lasting engagement with a piece of media doesn't have to be negative. there are in fact ways for media to be good beyond "competent but generally unremarkable"?

and this is ymmv, but complaining about something is more the snack food of media criticism for me. it's fun and great in the moment and it absolutely is something i need to do regularly to feel normal. but i can't live off it. i need to experience genuine appreciation and esteem on a regular basis too, or i shrivel like a raisin. (expressed more seriously: the kind of critique i find actually nourishing in the sense that it allows me to refine what kind of art i would like to make, and what makes me tick as a human being, is the positive kind about media i love very much for being excellent.)

idk guys. is it just that i'm autistic and therefore discussing for the nth time why xyz rules never stops being entertaining? what am i missing here. maybe it's good when media is good?

[amberizedcasey]

cellbit said that he can't wait to see the new fanarts o his cubito on the museum and now i'm thinking about the poor admin having to choose between all the amazing art that is coming out

they must be crying and throwing up right now, i could never