#George frantically worried for him

[francesderwent]

my brother and I both finished the books and now we are back to the show for a second watch and, my friends, I am losing it.

[fastandcarlos]

Late Cravings : ̗̀➛ George Russell

summary: what baby wants, baby gets, even if she does want it at 3am, much to george's dissatisfaction

You barely managed to walk through the door before George appeared in front of you, his eyes were wide as his hands held onto your arms, studying you closely before closing the door. 

“George, at least let me get in,” you told him, being directed by his hold. “What’s going on? Why do you look so scared?” You questioned, sliding your shoes off and kicking them to one side. 

It was only once George stood still that you could see how nervous he looked. His heart was racing as he finally let you go, brushing his hand through his hair as he took a deep breath, taking a moment to pace and compose himself a little bit once again. 

The fear of stirring in the night and not feeling you there brought a terror that George had never experienced before. He had no idea where you were, terrified that one of his worst fears during your pregnancy had come true. 

“Where were you?” George frantically asked you, “what sort of person just gets up and leaves the house at three in the morning without telling anyone where you’re going first.” 

You felt guilty as you heard the panic that was still in George’s voice, encouraging him to take a seat beside you. Your hand rested against his leg, assuring him that you were there and that you were safe. 

Your free hand reached into your bag and pulled out what you had bought on your late-night adventure, with George’s eyes watching carefully to see many of the things you’d been craving in front of you. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about these and I knew I wasn’t going to sleep without getting my hands on them,” you told him, ripping open the packet of crisps you’d bought. 

“But I could have gone to get them for you, all you had to do was ask,” George groaned, staring across at you as you placed a crisp into your mouth, throwing your head back in satisfaction. 

The thought of waking George did cross your mind, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it, he was peacefully sleeping beside you and you didn’t have the heart to disturb him. 

“You were asleep and with how busy you are you need to rest as much as possible,” you told him,  I wouldn’t have gone if I didn’t feel like I was up to it George.” 

George’s head nodded, he understood where you were coming from, knowing that you wanted to remain as independent as possible, but even by his standards this was a stretch too far. 

“I could’ve sat in the passenger seat and slept,” he suggested with a smile on his face, “at least then I would have known exactly where you were.” 

“But you know where I am now, that’s the main thing, right?” 

George’s eyes narrowed on you, as safe as you were now, half an hour ago he was worried that it was going to be a whole different story. 

“I wish you’d tell me when you’re planning on giving me a heart attack,” George joked. 

“It’s all part of the fun,” you argued, resting your head down against George’s shoulder as you continued to eat. “You know I am just pregnant though George, I’m not incapable.” 

Whilst George was overprotective, you were a little carefree making the two of you a little conflicted. George wanted to know every last detail while you tended to not tell him much about what you were up to, confident you could still take on the world, even if George was a little more doubtful. 

“Maybe going out so early in the morning wasn’t the brightest idea,” you reasoned, much to George’s delight, “I suppose I could have sorted out my cravings in a little bit of a better way.” 

“I know how you get when you’re craving though,” George mused, “if there’s one thing that I know about you it’s that you definitely get whatever you want when you’re craving.” 

You nodded in agreement with him, you were determined with everything that you did, but now you were more determined than ever to do as much as you could for as long as you possibly could too. 

“I don’t mean to constantly be on your case,” George told you, kissing against the top of your head. “I need to remind myself to trust you more, to know that you know how far you can push your body.” 

“I wouldn’t do something if I couldn’t,” you assured, “and as much as you might not believe me, if I need help then I will ask you for it George.” 

The corners of his mouth slowly turned up, “I know you will, and I’ll always be there whenever you need me to step in and help you out.” 

“That’s why you’re such a fantastic husband.” 

You weren’t oblivious to how lucky you were to have George by your side doing absolutely anything that you needed. He was beyond excited to have a baby, wanting to do as much as he could to help both you and the baby out, maybe sometimes a little too much, although you knew George always meant well. 

“I draw the line at three in the morning,” George then spoke up, sending you a knowing glance. “It’s dark outside and you can’t see where you’re going. No craving can be as important as keeping you safe in conditions like that.” 

“I was driving and my lights were on.” 

“Still,” George sniggered, dismissing your protests. “From now on if you need anything in the night then you can shake and kick me awake, regardless of how sleepy I might look beside you.” 

Your eyebrows raised as George spoke, “I can kick you?” 

“That’s the bit you focus on,” George grumbled, rolling his eyes at you as you threw your crisp packet into the bin. “You got anything else in there, I’m hungry now after all the energy I’ve just exerted panicking for you.” 

“Are you pregnant and craving?” You asked him as his head shook. “In that case then you get nothing, these are mine and mine only.” 

You reached forwards and opened up the packet of sweets that you’d bought, taking one out. Luckily for George you reached across and popped one of the sweets into his mouth, much to his delight. You leant back against his chest as you started tucking in, his arm wrapping around you. 

Despite the way his heart had raced just a few minutes earlier, it was a lot calmer as George noticed the content smile now on your face. He knew that pregnancy was far from easy for you, trying his best to understand your mood and emotions as much as he could. 

“Maybe we should stock up on some of the things you crave,” George suggested, watching your eyes light up. “You know like how people how emergency rations; we could have emergency cravings.” 

“That might not be the worst idea,” you agreed, “but only if you agree that they’re for my cravings and not for you to keep tucking into.” 

“You know what my appetite is like, when there’s food in front of me then I’m probably going to eat it.” 

“Think of it like this, would you deny your child food if you ate the food that is kept in the cupboard for them?” 

“Oh wow, now that is the ultimate guilt trip.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[maxlarens]

pairing(s): engineer!george russell x driver!reader

brought on entirely by this ask thank you anon i owe you a great debt😭 also light angst beware.

You’re more angry than anything.

What a stupid mistake, taking the turn like that. Too hard too fast too reckless. Never careful enough, like George always presses you to be. You feel shame churning in the hollow of your chest in the back of the safety car.

You’re on the way to medical. You would be even if you didn’t have an ache in your neck. Something sharp in your chest. You’ve fractured a rib, you think. Broken it even. You know this feeling, the whiplash of a crash. Waiting to have your injuries confirmed.

You think of the car, the smell of smoke registering as you took a second to reorient yourself. To remember all of your limbs. Ringing in your ears, then George. George, prompting your reply over and over. Tone clipped, hurried, near-frantic, still-professional. The car is on fire. You need to get out of the car, now. And your limbs snapping back into awareness, into motion—

You’re fine now. Angry mostly.

You let the doctor check you over, refer you for an ultrasound for the rib. It hurts when they press on it. You’re left with a manila folder to give to your team and an order to take it easy for the rest of the day.

Outside the medical building you can hear the cars on track. It puts something sick in the pit of your stomach. At least it’s only FP2. You’ve not utterly ruined a race, and the team still have time to fix your mess. Still. Still.

You turn a corner to make your way back to Mercedes hospitality, you find George instead.

He looks like someone’s taken a livewire to him. His head of usually soft curls is messy, hair standing half on end. He’s got those serious, shell-shocked eyes that always appear when his smile vanishes. You frown as his head snaps to you, alerted by the sound of gravel underfoot.

“Shit,” you blink and he’s already halfway to you, “Are you alright? What did they say?”

His hands are on your shoulders, pulling you toward him and you’re not thinking anything in particular about that. Just grappling with his sudden closeness. His apparent worry. So apparent that someone’s sent him here to medical, to you instead of having his valuable input on the pit wall.

“I’m fine,” you push his hands off you, “I’ll just need an ultrasound. It’s nothing.”

“Did they check you for smoke inhalation?” he presses on, despite your attempt at deflecting, “Your car was on fire.”

You shrug, shake your head, “I dunno, George. They checked my breathing I guess.”

You hear a sharp intake of breath and feel him start to move toward the building. You grab his wrist, haul him back, knowing he’ll march you in there and demand they check if you don’t reassure him.

“I’m fine,” you insist, “No smoke inhalation. Not even a cough.”

He’s looking down at you, jaw set, the line of his mouth severe. So serious as he checks you over like he has x-ray vision— as if he can see things the doctors can’t because he’s more worried than they are. You’re keenly aware of your fingers looped around his wrist, the feeling of his pulse, his skin, the tender way his hand reaches to grab your wrist in kind.

Your relationship feels different here. In this moment.

The closeness of a driver and her engineer has never escaped you. From the moment you met him for the first time in Brackley— tall, cheerful, a bit awkward, a little overbearing— you’d known that you’d be close. That’s the nature of it. You didn’t have to be charmed by his sincerity to predict that.

But you’d grown closer than you would have ever thought. You know his quirks, his idiosyncrasies. How he has his tea, the clothing brand he buys all his clothes from, the way speaks to waiters like they’re old friends, the overly friendly nature that masks a man who’s just nervous people won’t like him. He knows yours.

Your proclivity for being reckless on track, because winning is everything and what are you if you’re not a winner? How you have three shots of espresso in your coffee every morning. The way you cry your eyes out at father-daughter moments in movies. Your ache to be loved and your accompanying fear of commitment.

George is like no-one else. No ex, no best friend, no situationship knows you like George does.

Inside and out.

Anyway. Your hand on his wrist, your aching rib, him standing outside medical when he should be on the pit wall. It makes your head spin.

He closes the distance between the two of you. Hauls you into his flat chest and weaves his fingers into your hair, cradling the back of your head like he might lose you. Something wells in the top of your throat. The back of your neck feels gooey, soft, as he holds you. As if all the tension is easing out of you.

You take a deep breath, wrap your hands around his waist. Fireproofs against the bare skin where his Mercedes polo has hiked up. He says something into your hair that you can’t hear. The tone of it gets you anyway, the fondness.

You hiccup, hating yourself for it.

Then you’re crying. Shock of the crash wearing off, unable to ignore the comfort of being held up physically and emotionally by George. Tears, wet, hot are streaming down your face. Soaking George’s shirt.

“You’re okay,” he says into your ear, rocking the two of you back and forth in the gravel, “You’re okay, I promise.”

You know you are. Logically. But hearing George say it makes it easier to believe. You think, even, that he might be saying it for himself too.

[littlegrapejuice]

Saved his life | LS2

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x Reader

Summary: You come to check on Logan after qualifying at the Dutch GP, hoping to lift his spirits.

Author's Note: ok so this literally came to me in a dream😭 logan's replacement was announced on tuesday (still crying about it btw) and istg i woke up wednesday morning after having lived this plot during my sleep

You had been seeking him out after FP3, and were once again seeking him out after qualifying. Logan was nowhere to be found and you worried about the state he mentally was in since his crash. The backlash from his team as well as journalists had blown out of proportion, for they were all focusing on the damages suffered by the car before considering the health of the driver.

Similar to you, Logan's fans were doing their best to support him and wondered about how he was doing. You had seen many comments online about people complaining that neither Williams - as in James Vowles - nor commentators had expressed an interest in the well-being of the driver, only talking about ruining a newly upgraded car - which would be proven illegal later on.

Scouring the paddock, you were now going from garage to garage looking for Logan. Obviously, you had first gone to the Williams one but without any success in finding the American. You hadn't even known at first if he was actually at the track, but a quick shot of him on the TV screen had confirmed you that he was indeed in his garage.

This is why as soon as qualifying ended, you had waited for George to come back to the Mercedes garage so that you could notify him that you were leaving for the time being. You had plans together later tonight, meaning that he didn't mind you doing whatever you wanted until then.

And that's thus how you were still walking around the paddock, praying that it wouldn't take much longer to find Logan.

As you then thought you had seen him from afar, someone obviously had to come up to you and stop you in your tracks. You turned around at the tap on your shoulder and was met with a blonde driver, but not quite the one you would've rather faced.

"Hi Max," you said with a smile.

"Hey, you alright?" He asked both because he was genuinely interested in your answer and because he couldn't help but notice you frantically looking around.

"Yeah, I'm good! Congrats on P2, that's great at your home race." You gave a last glance to the side and decided to temporarily abort your mission as you had unfortunately lost sight of who you thought had been Logan.

"Thanks, I wish I could've gotten pole but I'll get the first place from turn one so that's alright."

"I'll be internally rooting for you, but you know I'll have to stick to my roots and publicly support my team."

"Of course," Max replied. "The Red Bull garage is always open if you ever feel like changing your mind. We also probably have better food than Mercedes." He let out a smile at your laugh before scratching his throat, as if he was thinking about his next words. "Listen, I-"

"Sorry Max," you apologised as you checked your watch and got afraid you would miss logan leaving the track. "I'd love to talk more with you but I was on the way to do something important so please make it quick."

"Yeah, hmm... did you have the chance to visit the city and its surroundings? I was thinking that..." Max hesitated before he saw you nodding at him, silently telling him to continue. "We could grab a drink or some food later on, and I can show you around? Seeing as this is my home country, I'm pretty familiar with it so I could give you a proper tour and you'd see things that you would never see with a regular tour guide and-"

"Sounds lovely yeah!" You felt pretty bad for interrupting him once again, but the clock was really ticking and you were getting more nervous. "I already have something planned for tonight though, so maybe another day?"

"Well, there's only tomorrow left then. After the race?" He suggested with hope in his tone.

"I'll get back to you on that. Depending on who's winning, I might be celebrating someone else you know."

"Of course, but I'm pretty confident that I can score another victory here."

"Great, then that's settled! Super cool to chat with you Max, I'll see you later." You waved at him and quickly started walking again to the direction you had last seen Logan several minutes ago.

You were gone so fast that you hadn't even heard Max telling you that he would text you his request again, as he had sensed that your focus had been on all but your exchange with him. You liked Max to be honest; he was a really sweet guy and could easily match your energy as a fellow yapper. However, he had chosen the worst moment to strike up a conversation with you. Thinking about how you could repay it to him next time you'd see him - probably tomorrow, all your stress was going away as you finally found the person you were looking for.

You stopped close enough to him that he would notice you, but a few metres away so that you had time to catch your breath without it being too obvious that you had been almost running around for him.

As he called out your name, you couldn't help the smile that lit up your face.

"You're good?"

"I am now, thanks. Been searching for you, you know? You're quite hard to find," you told him in complete honesty with a light laugh.

"Really?" Logan was surprised by your words. He hadn't expected anyone to come talk to him today, except for his teammate Alex or a couple drivers texting him for a check up.

"Yeah," you nodded. "I couldn't see you after practice earlier and I thought talking to you face to face was better than a text so yes, I was looking for you."

If you and Logan weren't surrounded by hundreds of people, he would definitely shed a tear at your kindness - not like anyone was actually paying attention to the both of you as you were on the side of the path. He didn't think a headline consisting of F1 Driver Logan Sargeant seen crying while talking with F1 Driver George Russel's long-time friend was a good idea though.

"And you wanted to talk to me about something important?" He wondered.

"That's what I said", you replied. "I wanted to talk to you, about you, I guess."

"That's not super-"

"It is," you immediately interrupted him before he could finish his sentence. You knew what he was about to say and you were definitely not letting him give voice to his thoughts. Seeing as he was still taken aback by your words, you kept going. "You're important, Logan. More than a random chassis, or an engine, or whatever they put in the shit car that they make you drive."

Hearing your own sentence, you were about to apologise for the strong opinion - Logan was driving said car so you didn't know if you were right to comment on it - but the chuckle that came from the American stopped you from doing so. It didn't last long as Logan quickly covered his mouth, thus shutting down the sound, but you suddenly wished you could hear it again.

And not because you're trash talking his team, but because you're, let's say, watching a movie together and a funny scene comes up; or because you're walking around a park and he laughs at your clumsiness when you almost trip on a random rock.

You just wished, right now, that you weren't at the track, in this paddock, with all those cars and people around. You just wanted to be with him, in a quiet place where you could just enjoy each other's presence without having to worry about a team principal that didn't take his driver's needs into account or about journalists that couldn't seem to see the human aspect of a driver behind the suit and helmet.

Your thoughts were however soon interrupted when a hand appeared in front of your face.

"Hello? Earth to whatever planet you're on?" Logan had a smile on his face. He wasn't laughing anymore but he didn't seem annoyed either at your silence. "Did you get lost in your mind?"

"Possibly", you answered with a nervous laugh. "Sorry, won't happen again."

"It's fine, don't worry."

You could see Logan was genuine in his eyes. The way they were being lit up by the sun suddenly made you wonder about what was hidden behind it. They often say that eyes are the mirror of the soul; but for now, you could only see yourself in Logan's.

"Hey Logan," you said after a few seconds of silence. He glanced down at you, which you took as a sign to continue. "Do you wanna hang out with me tonight? I- hmm I have this dinner with George, Lando, Alex, and their girls. And it could be nice of you to join. I mean, if you want to of course, and if you don't have anything planned already but yeah, that'd be cool. I'd like that."

When Logan didn't reply, you started to think that it was over and that your stress was so obvious, and that he wasn't going to accept the offer. But then:

"I'd love to." Your gaze was now filled with hope, until the next words left Logan's mouth. "But I think I need to be alone tonight. It's absolutely not against you or the others, but today hasn't been the best day for me as you obviously know and even though it could lighten up my mood, I'd rather focus on tomorrow's race."

"Oh, hmm... okay, yeah... I totally get it, no problem."

Logan was not dumb; he noticed your immediate change of attitude as you lowered your gaze, so he decided to add on to his explanation:

"It's just a raincheck, you know? I'm not going out tonight, but I'd absolutely be down for another day if we both find the time. Sounds good?"

"Yeah!" You nodded with a smile. "Raincheck, okay, got it."

"Sorry to cut this short, but I gotta go for now." Logan gave you a smile before checking his phone. "I'll get back to you for a hang out, but thanks for taking the time to talk with me. I truly appreciate it."

"It's normal, we're friends so... I wasn't really thinking twice about it."

"Then thank you for that as well. We'll see each other later, right?"

"Of course," you confirmed. "Race's tomorrow so at least then, goodbye for now Logan."

"Bye, take care."

He gave you a quick hug before departing, and next thing you knew, he was gone. You then turned around, ready to exit the paddock and go back to your hotel, so that you could get ready for your dinner tonight with your friends.

.....

"George, hey!" You called out to him as you saw him from afar. "Thanks for waiting, sorry I'm a little late."

"No problem," he replied. "I sent Alex and the girls inside to keep us a table. We're just missing Lando, but I think he'll be here soon."

As if on cue, you had received a text. Thinking it was from the curly haired man, you opened it in front of George before reading the sender and the content of the message.

Hi! Regarding our conversation from earlier, I decided to formally ask if you wanted to grab dinner with me tomorrow night after the race?

A smile unknowingly took place on your face, and George couldn't help but notice it.

"What's got you all happy?" He asked before adding a comment. "You're even blushing so I guess this is not Lando."

"It's no one," you said as you immediately locked your phone before George could look at the screen. "Just a friend I'm supposed to catch up with tomorrow."

"You have friends other than us in the Netherlands right now?" A familiar voice questioned from behind you.

"Lando!" George exclaimed as the last of your group was finally here. "Hey mate. Congrats on pole. Good quali you did there."

"Thanks man." Lando glanced at you while the three of you started walking inside the hotel, towards the restaurant. "So what's this about a friend of yours?"

"Drop it Lando," you replied, annoyed - although you could truly never be annoyed with him. "I'll tell you all about it when it's over if you still wanna know after the weekend."

"Of course I will! I'll even bring that up in the groupchat so you'll have to tell this wonderful and absolutely not suspicious story to everyone," Lando laughed as he nudged your side.

Thankfully, neither George nor Lando had brought up the topic with the others, even though they were still curious on what you were hiding. You were glad that they didn't because how could you even explain to them that you would be going out to dinner with a fellow driver? You honestly didn't think they would mind, but you also didn't want them to go and bother said driver when you knew that the paddock's walls had ears everywhere.

Hoping that it would be fine to reply to the text later, you had therefore waited until you were back in your hotel room to agree to the offer. Tonight's dinner had been amazing and you were always happy to spend time with your friends whom you didn't see much, but tomorrow's would be something even more special as it would actually be your first time hanging out one on one with the driver you were maybe fancying.

Before forgetting, you also decided to notify your friends of your plans - omitting the driver aspect of the 'friend' you would be seeing after the race - so that they wouldn't be surprised to not see you attend any celebration. Of course you would try and spend some time with the winner if he was part of your friend group, but at least you were in the clear to not go party all night with them.

.....

And you had never once regretted not attending the party that had celebrated Lando's win at the Dutch Grand Prix. He had told you that day after the race that you would have a myriad of other chances to attend another one as he was planning on winning more and more often - which he did.

Tonight's party, however, would be in your honour. As well as Logan's. And you couldn't see yourself anywhere else than here, in front of him. You truly didn't think you would one day end up in this situation, and neither did he. Logan hadn't really expected to experience such an event in his life, but he eventually did, all thanks to you.

You had saved his life. That day, when you reached out to him after qualifying, was unknowingly a turning point in his life. He had been at his lowest. He had known what would certainly happen following the Grand Prix; he had been expecting to be let go after the disastrous performances he was giving.

Knowing didn't make it less painful though.

He did get dropped by his team, Williams, which you cursed for as long as you could and still did from time to time. And even if Logan had achieved being a Formula One driver - which no one could ever take away from him, he had still felt like he was worthless after it happened.

He hadn't known how to process the sudden end of his short time on the grid and felt lost for a while, wondering about what would define him as a person now that the dream he'd had since he was a child was over.

But you had made him believe that it wasn't the end of the world and that something else was waiting for him. He could've ended it all, but you showed him a glimmer of hope and he chose to keep going, see what else was in store for him. He still had a future. And he had been right to trust you, as he was now here, facing you and about to be making you his. Only two words left to say before doing so.

'Thank you', he mouthed to you before the long-awaited sentence was to be heard out loud. "I do", he then confirmed without tearing his gaze away from your face.

..........

Okayyyy so this it lol

Hope y'all liked it🫶🏻 this was my 1st time ever writing for a driver since i got into motorsports and I feel really happy w it!! Thanks to my brain for making me dream ab logan, i think it kinda helps me cope regarding him not being the grid anymore (i miss him sm chat)

Idk when I'll write again for a driver if i ever do so, but don't hesitate to give feedback on this so that ik how to approach a future work🤍

[smusherina]

bridges burnt - chapter 4 [epilogue series] (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: When an invitation to Gretchen Wieners' wedding ended up in your mailbox, you'd been sure it was a mistake. Only, it read your name in neat, swoopy calligraphy. It was addressed to you. And Regina George, whom you hadn't spoken to in years.

additional clarification: This is set in the universe of yard work, a series of mine that can be found on my page! Reading this one might be a bit challenging without the context of the series :)

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 5

You clapped along with everybody else when the bride and groom made their entrance. You kept a polite smile on your face even as Regina's hand, rested on your knee, had your blood rushing.

The couple would be making the rounds, talking to and thanking guests before speeches were given and toasts were made. Then (finally) the food would be served.

You sipped fizzy apple juice from a champagne flute, leg jittering uncontrollably as you waited for Gretchen and her husband to get to your table. Regina was doing the same, though looking remarkably calmer. Looked like it would take a while, considering the flock of relatives accosting them.

You did not pity them. Those cheek pinches looked painful.

"You gotta calm down," She eventually said, squeezing your leg.

"I can't help it. You know what Gretchen did. I don't even know why she'd- y'know- invite us."

You hoped Regina got your meaning. You'd been broken up for a long time now and it wasn't like Gretchen didn't know. When you'd moved back to town and Mrs George had gotten wind of it, she'd talked very excitedly to all the neighbours about her daughter's best ex living in town.

Gretchen's mom, part of the most pernickety HOA, a soccer mom of extreme intensity and a domineering PTA rep, of course, relayed the information to her daughter—and anybody who'd listen—when she got wind of it from someone. The network of middle-aged women was insane in the area. You digress. There was no way to know this for a fact but you could make an educated guess.

"I suspect it's because she's a heinous bitch," Regina said, casual as ever. "A vengeful, hateful, homophobic bitch."

"Careful, there's ears everywhere." Janis piped up, eyeing the room.

"You know I'm right." Regina defended, eyebrow notched.

"Obviously," Janis made a face like she couldn't believe Regina would suggest otherwise. "But, personally, I wanna get a taste of the menu before we're kicked out."

"Now, that's an idea..." Regina hummed, tapping her chin.

"What's an idea?" You asked. Regina didn't answer. "Reggie. What idea? What ideas are you getting, Regina?" Almost frantic.

"Don't worry your sweet little head about it, babe. I've got everything under control." She teased, pressing a patronizing kiss on your cheek. Your brain made computer whirring noises, blue flashing before your eyes. Rebooting.

"I don't like this," You mumbled into Regina's ear.

"Meet me in the bathroom hallway in five minutes." She whispered back, turning with a coy look in her eye.

You chugged the rest of your drink. Fuck. This was gonna be rough. Shane looked equally nervous but seemed to calm down when Aaron came by. You shook hands very awkwardly. He asked about you and Regina. You told him you were good, that she was good. Maybe your tone was a little too aggressive, leftover from your angsty teenage jealousy, because he settled to chat with his boo from then on.

Five minutes passed very slowly. You eyed your watch for the last minute of it, on the edge of your seat.

"Was nice seeing you, Aaron." You gave a quick, apologetic smile. "Best of luck." Hopefully, that sufficed as an olive branch.

"You too, man, you too," He called after you. You waved behind your back and strode towards the bathroom hallway.

There were too many goddamn guests. You navigated through the throngs of people best you could, muttering sorry and excuse me as you pushed through.

"What the fuck, girl?" You startled when Amanda took you by the cuff. She led you to a nearby wall, so very close to your destination.

"I thought you broke up?" She asked, hissing more like.

"We did. I don't know what's going on."

"Uh, tell her to back off? People are talking that there's, y'know, a very passionate lesbian couple here. Relatives from the bible belt not impressed." Amanda gave you a look, narrowed eyes and crossed arms. "Have you been lying to me?"

"No!" You denied vehemently. "It sounds crazy, I know, but she just came up to me like that."

"And why didn't you, hmm, I dunno, push her away?" Amanda's eyes turned soft. "She didn't treat you right, we discussed this."

"I didn't treat her much better, Amanda." You sighed and rubbed your forehead. "I... I can't say no to her. I- I don't want to say no."

"This isn't good for you." She said as if you didn't already know.

"Yeah. Well." You spread your arms and let them drop listlessly. "You know me, I do a lot of things not good for me."

"You're hopeless." She turned to the rest of the room. "Just remember, you're my ride home."

Your eyebrows rose.

"You sure about that?" You cast a meaningful glance towards the bar. The same guy, still being bothered by the same lady you were pretty sure, kept throwing helpless glances Amanda's way. She was gonna take that puppy home, he was so her type.

"Are you calling me a slut?" She grinned. "If all goes according to plan, I'll text you where to pick me up tomorrow morning."

"Great. Don't get murdered, yeah?" You patted her on the shoulder. "I gotta go."

"I have your back, Jay. Don't forget that."

You nodded solemnly and continued your journey towards the bathrooms. Just as you crossed into the hallway, looking left first, someone grabbed you roughly by the collar and slammed you against the wall.

"What-" You yelped but didn't get any more words out before Regina descended on you. She took you harshly, lips on yours sealed tight like she was keen on sucking the life out of you. Your body slumped against her, mouth seeking hers as she dipped her tongue in.

It was sloppy, a little gross, and loud. Had you been any other person, some innocent bystander, you probably would've been disgusted. But this was Regina George and she was kissing you. That still floored you.

Regina hadn't kissed you like this since high school. When you spent senior prom at your house, cooped up and pretending it didn't matter all the other couples got to dance and have fun while you hid. When you both got so angry that the only way to find release was in each other. When you broke up and decided you were better separate, crying in the middle of intimacy and so, so desperate.

"Keep your eyes on me, jorts." Regina breathed into your lips. You tasted her, something sweet and minty. "You can go back to your little girlfriend when we're done here."

"Huh?" You made a sound. "What girlfriend?"

"The one you were talking to just now." She trailed kisses to your ear. Your eyes fluttered, heart skipped beats. "You got multiple?"

"No, just you, uh, I mean- she's not my girl." You tried to produce full sentences with mild success. "She's here for emotional support."

"What's your relationship with her?" All these official questions while her hands were roaming under your suit jacket, feeling up your back, scratching with her nails. You shivered.

"Friends." You swallowed, panting as Regina sucked marks on your throat. There would be no hope of covering those up.

"Good," Regina said gutterally, voice almost like a growl as her leg pressed between yours. Oh god, was she going to fuck you right here?

"Now, you're gonna be real good for me and do exactly as I say." She kept touching your sides, your hips, your thighs, and you could not take much more. Her lips dizzied you, talking so low you had to strain to hear every word. Her gloss was all over you, sticky and tacky.

"Reg, what the fuck are we doing?"

"We're pretending, baby, and we're gonna sell it." Your stomach sunk. You knew this was some act but having it spelt out like this, that Regina was using you for revenge, stung. She continued:

"I will do everything in my power to ruin this wedding. I have ideas and I just need you to assist a little bit."

"Regina," You sighed and pushed her by the shoulders, lightly and gently. She went willingly, though with a pout. "You're doing it again. Revenge. This is why we broke up."

"We broke up for many reasons, jorts." She retorted, nails scratching at your tummy. You tried to hide your trembling.

"Yes, and- Regina!" She attached her lips to your pulse, where you were especially sensitive.

"Still got it," She mumbled cheekily into your skin, pressing kisses there just to torment you.

"You're horrible," You whined, hands holding onto her shoulders for dear life. Her leg hiked further up on the wall, pressing against you firmly. You kept your hips still, not daring to enter that territory somewhere so public.

You were at the end of your rope. Not much more now and all reservations would be null. You were sure you wouldn't say no if she unzipped your fly then and there.

"You know I am, baby." She squeezed your waist and sucked a hickey right on your jugular.

"Why are you doing this?" You asked, voice weak.

She didn't answer for a while. Just kept touching you, feeling you, kissing you. It was driving you mad but at the same time, you were beginning to feel like the reason didn't matter.

"Good question. Just go with it, yeah?" She breathed, finally pulling away enough to look into your eyes. "You look ravished." She looked so pleased with herself, with a little smirk on her face and her eyes glinting.

"Thanks," You tried to catch your breath.

"Now, we're gonna make out until someone finds us and that'll stir up something." Regina leaned back in but you dodged her kiss, giving her your neck instead. She didn't seem to mind, teeth getting in the mix.

"Y'know there's- there are more effective ways to ruin a wedding than kissing in a secluded hallway." You pointed out.

"Maybe. But this is more fun." She pulled your shirt out of your pants, ruining the careful tuck you'd done. Her hands grabbed at your lower back, nails scraping on your flesh teasingly. She was trying to kill you, surely. You told her so.

"You're gonna kill me, Reg."

"I'd never hurt you." She whispered, sounding more sombre than you would've expected. "You're the exception."

"Why can't you make exceptions for anybody else? Gretchen doesn't deserve this or all this effort."

"Jorts, baby," She brought her lips to your ear, whispering right up against it. You bit your lip not to moan. "You deserve all the effort."

That got you thinking.

"Did I deserve it back then?" You asked, careful, a little too quiet.

Regina paused, hands resting and mouth unlatching. "Yes."

You stood there, breathing together. You were all kinds of messy, so obviously kissed stupid, but you couldn't help the sting in your eyes.

It was dramatic, you knew that, crying over a bygone high school romance. You'd been just teenagers. It shouldn't matter anymore, not at this point when you were both adults. You both had real jobs, your own homes, your own lives.

"I missed you," You said, resting your forearms on Regina's shoulders. You touched your forehead to hers.

"I missed you, too," She said back, just as quiet. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too." It felt like a weight lifted off of your chest. "What should we do?"

"How about..." Regina looked up at you through her lashes. You felt lightheaded. Her lipgloss was smeared in the sexiest way. "We get revenge on Gretchen for all the shit she did in high school, for being a homophobic bigot, and for almost getting Kylie expelled."

"Kylie? Expelled?" That surprised you. You hadn't seen Kylie since her sweet sixteenth last year, which she'd invited you to. You stopped by before any of the guests or Regina got there.

"Gretchen caught her kissing one of her younger cousins at their place. A girl. Obvi, Duvall didn't let it fly but it pretty much outed Kylie."

You took a deep breath.

"Let's give the kids kazoos. And water guns. That will ruin any wedding."

Regina laughed. "Where are we getting kazoos? And water guns?"

"I did some volunteer work as a camp counsellor this summer. There's some good stuff in my car." You got an idea then.

"We can lure raccoons into the reception hall!"

Regina cackled.

Notes: I googled "ways to ruin a wedding" and got some awesome results. Look forward to that in the next chapter!

Taglist posted seperately! If you want to be added, please comment on that post!

[nico-di-genova]

Thinking about George’s crash and Zhou’s crash at Silverstone. How George, acting on instinct, parked his car forfeited his race, and hardly thought about rushing to help in anyway he could. How he talked about how scared he had felt, and how worried for Zhou he had been. How he found himself in a situation that must have been one of his worst fears and they didn’t red flag the race for him. Despite how much he was asking for one. No. They had him sitting on the track, unable to see the cars coming at him, trapped and frantically looking around waiting for that impact. Its horrifying. It shouldn’t have happened to anyone, and the fact that George showed his true character by immediately placing another drivers safety first, but the sport couldn’t do that for him in return is so upsetting.

[jojojoy1]

I thought I lost you- Lando Norris

Lando Norris x reader

A/N: so this isn't on my wip list but I got some inspiration to write and 4 hours and 1.1k words later I have this, enjoy.

Sunday. You loved Sundays, getting to see Lando race, getting to experience the joy with him. You also dreaded Sundays though. The fear and the worry doesn't disappear no matter how many races you attend.

Lando was just about to get in the car, helmet on and focused. Just before he stepped into the cockpit, you grabbed his hand.

"Be careful out there. I need you back here in one piece." You kissed his helmet, leaving a lipstick stain. You couldn't see Lando's whole face, but you could see in his eyes that he was smiling.

"I'm always careful." He said in his usual cheery voice, hands on your waist as yours rested on his chest.

"Just be extra careful, okay? I love you." Your tone changed slightly, clearly worrying.

"Hey, I'll be careful, don't worry. I love you too."

After that Lando was hurried into the car, no longer in your arms, no longer right next to you. You were normally quite calm at races, but something was different. You had this gut feeling telling you something was going to go wrong.

The start of the race was smooth sailing. Lando had made up a few places and there had been no red or yellow flags so far. But you still couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

That's when your whole world came crashing down on top of you. You didn't know how to react, so you didn't. You sat there in complete shock and fear. The words of David Croft replaying in your mind: Lando Norris and George Russell have hit each other. Norris has flipped, he's spun straight into the wall.

The car had spun into the wall upside-down, with Lando inside. Your Lando. Your World. Your everything. And there was nothing you could do but sit there and wait. It felt like time had stopped but was moving rapidly all at once.

No message had come through on Lando's radio. No indication of if he was okay. The waiting killed you. Watching the screens as the marshals ran to help him.

You wanted to move, you wanted to run to him. You wanted to scream and shout. You wanted to cry. But you couldn't. You couldn't move, you couldn't scream and you couldn't even cry. You were frozen.

A frantic shaking had brought you out of your trance. It was Carlos. He seemed out of breath, as though he got out of his car and ran directly to you.

"Are you okay, cariño?"

You tried to speak, the words on the tip of your tongue, but nothing came out. Carlos immediately knelt down to the height of the chair you were sitting on and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug. His hands started stroking your hair soothingly. The first tear fell onto his shoulder as Carlos whispered comforting words into your ear. Suddenly, you were a train wreck, going from zero to a hundred in a second.

Carlos pulled away to look at the screens still showing Lando's wreck. Your eyes followed to see that Lando had been pulled from the car and was being taken to the ambulance on a stretcher.

"I need to go with him." You blurted out, the first thing to leave your mouth since the start of this nightmare. You arose from the chair hastily, however, your legs felt like they had disappeared from beneath you and you tumbled. Carlos caught you, enveloping your legs in his arms as he was still crouched down. He helped you sit back down and held your hands before he started talking.

"Y/n, you're in no state to go anywhere right now."

"I need to be with him, Carlos." You pleaded with the man in front of you.

"Then I'll come with you, cariño."

"But the race. When it restarts-"

"I'm coming with you." Carlos interrupted your frantic excuses. He didn't care about the race anymore. His best friend just got into a horrific crash and was in the hospital and you were having, what could only be described as, a breakdown.

"Thank you." You whispered as Carlos stood up, pulling you to your feet and helping you find your balance.

Carlos drove you both to the hospital. Your anxiety through the roof at this point. Leg bouncing up and down. Hands fidgeting. Shifting in your seat constantly.

When you arrived the nurses told you: He's in surgery, you'll have to wait.

So you waited. And waited. And waited.

Four hours later, a doctor entered the deserted waiting room. "Are you two here for Mr Norris?"

Your head shot up. "Is he okay?"

"Why don't you come and look for yourself."

The doctor led you to Lando's room. He was asleep on the bed. He looked peaceful and the parts of his body that weren't covered in a blanket looked virtually untouched, like the crash had never happened.

"I'll leave you two with him. There's a button you can press to alert a nurse if anything is wrong."

"Thank you." You and Carlos both thanked the doctor and entered the room.

You sat down on the chair next to Lando, Carlos at the foot of the bed. You carefully held his hand as the floodgates reopened. You couldn't control the tears. Seeing Lando laying in a hospital bed is not what you had expected when you woke up this morning.

You rested your forehead against his chest, feeling him breath and hearing his heart beating. You continued to sob in the nearly silent room, so overwhelmed by the events of today.

You felt a very soft squeeze, really it was a tap, to your hand. You lifted your head from Lando's chest to see his eyes just barely open. A cute, cheeky smiled adorned his face.

"Hi." He croaked out in a faint, weak voice.

"Hi." You smiled through the tears at Lando. Admiring his beautiful eyes you thought you'd never gaze into again. Feeling his soft curls you thought you'd never run your fingers through again. Cherishing his pink lips you thought you'd never kiss again.

Your hand reached up to tangle in his hair, your eyes following the movement. "I thought I lost you." You whispered, if you could even called it that. You could barely hear yourself, but Lando heard you.

"You can't get rid of me that easily." He laughed, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"I love you." You spoke softly, relief washing over you.

"I love you too." You lent down and gently pressed you lips against Lando's, trying to memorise how he felt and tasted.

"I love you too, Lando. Do I get a kiss?" Carlos spoke up from the foot of the hospital bed.

"Obviously. Get over here."

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

JUST ASK

Pairings: George Weasley x Fem! Summary: George asks you to the ball. Warnings: none?

George watched you from across the room as McGonagall announced the Yule ball, you were sat between Hermione and Angie, smiles covering all your faces.

you looked over at them and leaned towards Angie

"I bet 5 galleons Fred asks you" you whispered, a smirk on your face

she looked at you and shook her head

"fine" she sighed.

-

he walked out of the room with Fred, going to lunch while thinking about the ball.

he'd been in love with you for a while now and this would be the perfect opportunity to act upon that. but he would never do anything

"Freddie!" he heard your sweet voice call out. coming up behind him and his brother

"hey, Love" Fred grinned, waiting for her to catch up, pulling you in a hug as you got to them

George would never do anything because you're his brothers best friend.

you pulled away from Fred and looked up at George, his heart fluttering at the eye contact.

you smiled gently at him "hi George"

"hello" he smiled back

"so, have you been planning any pranks lately?" you questioned as you walked with them to the great hall

"do we ever really stop planning?" Fred joked "but no, yeah, George had the great idea of- you know, it's too good, George you tell it" Fred nudged his brother and made him tell you his idea

"it's stupid it doesn't matter" George grew nervous and brushed it off

"it's not stupid, it's brilliant!" Fred exclaimed excitedly

"yeah, I bet it isn't stupid. c'mon George tell me" you pleaded as he looked down

"well I was thinking maybe one of will pretend to be Trelawney and teach a class" He explained sheepishly

"it will surely make her go more crazy, she'll probably think she has a twin or something" Fred laughed

you didn't mind Trelawney, she was crazy art times but she seemed misunderstood too. but you couldn't deny it was a good idea

you laughed along with him and agreed

"well that's definitely not stupid" you told George, he smiled and felt his cheeks warm up

-

as you sat down, the twins on the other side, already filling their plate, you decided to bring up the ball

"so, who are you guys planning on asking to the Yule ball?" you asked curiously

Fred shrugged "haven't thought about it yet." you looked at George and tilted your head at him

"I don't know" he bit into his chicken, trying to avoid the subject

"what about you? who do you want to ask you?" Fred smirked at you

"I don't know" you mimicked George's answer, he looked up at you and furrowed his eyebrows, swallowing his chicken

you would probably say no to anybody but George, but he doesn't have to know that.

"We'll it's not for a while so. Just sit back and relax for now. No need to worry" Fred smiled

"I'm not" you scoffed

"And if worse comes to worst then George will always go with you" Fred nudged him. Making George look up in shock. Frantically shaking his head

"What? No I won't" he huffed. Making a face.

You're smile faltered. Is that really his reaction?

"yeah, Fred, I would rather go with Draco Malfoy than George" you played it off, chuckling lowly

that hurt George. you would rather go with a stuck up Malfoy who only cared about blood status than him?

so George only laughed along, nodding his head

-

it was finally December and George was trying to work up the courage to finally ask you.

he was sick of hearing you talk about the ball with your friends saying you still didn't have a date.

and he didn't want to go alone either.

and he would also hate himself for not asking you and seeing you with somebody else.

so he tried thinking

he couldn't just go up to you and ask, that's not like him, he needs to go big. fireworks was so overdone though so he needed something else.

he tried to start conversations with you, One on one, which was going well

but he had ran out of ideas

so he had one choice, go to your best friend.

"Fred, I need help"

his twin looked up at him as he scribbled ideas for pranks

"what is it?" He asked

"promise you won't tease me" George mumbled

"depends on what it is" Fred shrugged cheekily

George sat on his bed, his shoulders slumped as he played with his hands

"I want to ask Y/n to the ball" he muttered

"blimey, yell it out to the world then mate" Fred said sarcastically

"I said I want to ask Y/n to the Yule Ball" George repeated louder

"my Y/n?"

the younger twin looked at him dully

"I need your help" he pleaded

"why?" Fred questioned

"because I don't know her like you do" George sighed

"why do you want to go with her?" Fred got up, standing in front of his brother

"because I like her" George confessed sheepishly

"awww, Georgie fancies a girl" Fred teased, earning a glare

"just do a firework show for her" Fred shrugged, not knowing what to say

"that's so basic, we do fireworks all the time, I want to impress her" George replied

"ah, ok then, just give her a gift" Fred suggested

"I don't know what she likes" George exclaimed, waving his hands around

Fred furrowed his eyebrows "then what the hell do you know?"

"nothing! that's why I'm asking you!" George whined loudly

Fred let out a deep breath

"fine, I'll tell you what she likes" he agreed to help

George went to his bedside table and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill, looking to see his brother looking at him like he had two heads

"what are you doing?" Fred shook his head, confused at his brothers behaviour.

truth be told, Fred was happy for his brother, he did have his suspicions about how George acted around the girl. but now he knows.

"writing this stuff down, for ideas" George smiled innocently

the two brothers discussed everything George wanted to know about you

down to your favourite flowers, colours, time or day, food. they went into how you have multiple teddy bears on your bed and how you almost have a full collection of cards from the chocolate frogs.

"what does she like to do in her free time?" George asked, looking up at his almost filled page

"she liked going down to the black lake, she spends time in the library to read. other than that just hanging out with friends" Fred answered.

"alright" George mumbled, scribbling it down and smiling gratefully at Fred

"think that will be enough?" Fred asked, by now he was sat next to George, watching him as he wrote down what he said

"do you think it is?" George furrowed his eyebrows

"I think what you have down will be more than enough to figure out how to ask her, it also gives you a lot of space to get to know her too, this is just the bare minimum" Fred nodded his head.

"alright" George looked down at the piece of paper again, smiling at it "thanks, Fred" he whispered to his brother

"don't worry about it, she'll say yes" Fred nudged him, sensing the nervousness in his brothers voice.

George could only hope that this information could help him. because he was slumped.

--

you came back to your room after dinner to find a letter on your bed, your name written in a rough messy handwriting on it. with a chocolate frog box on top of it.

you picked them both up and decided to go for the letter, you unfolded it and read it to yourself

meet me at the astronomy tower after after you read this.

sincerely, Wait and see ;)

you put it down and took the chocolate, opening the box, catching the frog as it hopped out,

"not so fast, bugger" you murmured.

after the frog stopped struggling you took out the card, noticing to name that you always looked for, the finishing touch to your collection since you started since 1st year.

you smiled as you saw his face in the card, the name reading

Celestina Warbeck.

you contemplated going or not, and when Angelina came into your dorm, she excitedly told you you should go, because you never know what it could be?

you put on a jumper and went off to the astronomy tower, hugging yourself protectively, your wand in your pocket in case.

you walked up the stairs and went in, noticing his tall figure in the darkness of the room.

the sun was almost fully and it was coming to the time where it started to snow for the winter.

you walked closer

"George?" you recognised him from behind, it couldn't of been Fred, you saw him in the common room when you left

he smiled at you nervously, his grin seeming lopsided

"hello" He swallowed deeply

you looked around the tower, no one else in sight

"disappointed?" he sighed

you looked back up at him and shook your head vigorously

"no- No I'm not disappointed, shocked? surprised? yes" you replied quickly

he revealed a bouquet of your favourite flowers from behind his back, handing them out to you

"oh? thank you George, they're my favourite! how'd you know?" you took them from his hands

"lucky guess, I'd say" he chuckled

"so why'd you bring me up here?" you interrogated him, smelling the flowers

"well I was hoping that maybe- only if you want to, of course, that you'd might- maybe, want to go to the Yule ball, with a certain Weasley?" he rambled sheepishly

"and who might that certain Weasley be?" you smirked

"me" he whispered, his eyes wide with anticipation of your answer

"I wouldn't rather go with anybody else" you beamed up at him

"good- great that is perfect, thank you- um, amazing" he stumbled on his words

he couldn't describe the feeling of you saying yes even if he tried, he was more than every word that describes happy.

"well then, shall we go back, or do you want to stay and watch the start come out" he looked up at the dark sky, noticing a few little shining stars

"I'd like to stay here for a bit it that's ok with you" you replied

"perfect"

-

you guys got closer throughout the weeks leading up to the ball, you got to know each other and went out to Hogsmeade for a date.

and tonight, the ball. you hadn't seen each other all day

you walked up to him as he stood facing Fred, away from you.

he noticed Fred averting his eyes to something behind him, making him turn, seeing you, in a long dress, looking like it was made of silk

you looked breathtakingly beautiful to him

"bloody hell" he whispered Fred whispering the same thing beside him

Fred had never seen his best friend look so beautiful. and when he looked over to his brother, he saw the love that was held in his eyes as he looked at you.

"Hi" you looked at them

"Hey, Love" Fred smiled, hitting George in the arm to make him answer

"Hi" he said, looking like he was in a trance

"Angie's on her way, t be honest I have no idea where she went, she was beside me one minute and gone the next" you giggled, looking at Fred

"gorgeous" George stopped Fred from responding by blurting out suddenly

"pardon?" you apologised, asking his to repeat

"you look. absolutely gorgeous" he breathed

you blushed profusely

"thank you George, you look really handsome"

"ready?" he holds out his arms for you. you look over at Fred and furrow your eyebrows

"go on, i need to wait for Angie, I'll see ya in there" he smiled

you smiled and locked your arm with George "let's go"

Fred watched as you two walked into the hall, a big smile on his face as he saw his two best friends together.

------------------------------------------------

[graciegoeskrazy]

and too much racket

matty healy + teen!daughter!r (ft. george)

warnings: r does drugs!!!, nothing in graphic detail, mentions of mattys addiction, yelling, crying, shit ending but cute?

a/n: mention of a specific drug that starts with a k that i can’t fully say so inside the street name cuz i don’t want tumblr banning me even do its weird cuz they block my angstyfluffy healy things but there’s litteral prn on thier site anywhooooooo im a lover not a fighter. thx to anon who requested! had to do research cuz ive never done drugs aeha

The house was quiet. He was anticipating another night alone in the house while you were out with friends. The silence was broken by the sound of a call. He snatched up the phone and answered it immediately. 9 times out of 10 it was just you checking in or saying hi.

“Hi, baby. Everything okay?”

“Mr. Healy?” The voice on the other end was hesitant, unsure. Most importantly, it wasn’t yours.

“Kate? Where’s y/n?” The worry in his voice intensified, his mind racing through all the possible scenarios.

“Mr. Healy, we’re getting ready to drop y/n off. Are you home?”

“Yeah. Why? Is she okay? Is she that drunk?” He laughed a little at the thought. He knew you liked to drink on occasion and sometimes even use weed and he was usually fine with it as long as you were being safe and called when you needed him. He always said he would drop anything in a heartbeat.

“No, she’s not drunk. She’s...high...on something that...isn’t weed.” Kate’s words hung heavily in the air, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

“What? What was it, Kate? You can tell me.” His voice was laced with confusion and urgency.

“I don’t know. She left the room awhile ago, said she was going to the bathroom, but when she came back she was clearly on something. Something a lot stronger.”

“Oh god.” He ran a hand through his hair, his mind spinning.

“Somebody said she had mentioned Ket, but I don't know where she would’ve gotten it? We don’t do that type of stuff—I barely drink!” Kate’s voice cracked, the fear and confusion palpable.

“I know, I know, Kate. It’s gonna be okay. Where is she now?” He forced himself to stay calm. He could tell your friend was starting to panic even more.

“She’s asleep in the car. We just left.” Her voice softened, the exhaustion and worry evident.

“Alright, bring her here. Drive carefully. We’ll figure this out.”

As the call ended he sent frantic texts to the only other people who he knew loved you almost as much as he loved you, begging them to come over. George, residing the closest, knocked on the door not even 10 minutes later, worried about the vague text Matty sent. Ross came in not long after, with Adam, Carly, Charli, and Jamie all trailing from behind. He explained everything he knew, and before they knew it a knock sounded at the door.

—————

Your heart pounded as you stepped out of the car, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps. You couldn't believe Kate had brought you here, to your own house. You barely remembered getting in the car. Now - you were wide awake. "You brought me to my house?!" Your voice shook with disbelief.

Kate, her face a mask of concern, tried to reach out to you. "It’s for your own good, Y/n. We called your dad, he’s gonna help—"

Your eyes widened in horror, and she took a step back in fear. "You called my DAD?!?!"

Kate flinched at the volume, "We were just trying to help, Y/n."

"Well, just stay out of it—" You shot back, voice breaking.

The front door swung open, and Matty stood there, his face set in a grim expression. "Y/N," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Living room. Now."

You felt a surge of defiance but knew better than to argue with your father when he was in this state. "Dad—"

"Now," Matty repeated, his voice stern.

With a final, furious glance at Kate, you stormed past her and into the house.

Kate’s eyes filled with tears as she confronted your father, filled with worry and guilt. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Healy! I should have kept a closer eye on her-”

“It’s not your fault, Kate. We’ll get through this.” He managed a small, reassuring smile before turning his attention back to y/n.

Matty followed her inside, closing the door behind him with a heavy thud.

You were met with most of your aunts and uncles as soon as you walked in, mentally groaning and rolling your eyes. The room is tense. You glance around, taking in the faces of family and friends, all summoned by your father. Their presence only amplifies your frustration. You turned to your father as soon as you heard his familiar footsteps grow closer.

“You called everyone?!” you exclaim.

Matty’s expression is stern, unyielding. “We need help with this one, babe”

“Oh my god— I got high one time. I need some water and Advil, not a fucking intervention,” you retort.

“Sit down,” Matty commands, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Reluctantly, you drop onto the couch, your arms crossed in defiance. Matty takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “Weed and a couple of Trulys are one thing, y/n, but this?!”

You roll your eyes, a gesture that seems to cut through the tension like a knife. It’s a bold move, especially aimed at your father. Even in your age of defiance, you never once dared to act like this in front of your father. He doesn’t flinch, his gaze piercing as he presses on. “Where’d you get it?” You shift uncomfortably, weighing your options. “Tell me. Now,”

You let out a resigned sigh. “A friend—”

“What friend?” Matty interrupts, his patience wearing thin.

“She was prescribed it for her anxiety or something,” you explain, trying to maintain some composure. “Now she’s just been dealing it to people.”

The room remains charged with tension, but a different kind now, more personal, more painful. You sit, feeling the weight of your father’s disappointment. The silence hangs heavily before Matty finally speaks again.

“Those girls were scared, y/n. You should’ve heard Kate; she was terrified! I could hear it in her voice,” Your dad says, his voice strained.

“She’s fine,” you reply dismissively.

Matty’s eyes narrow. “You better pray they forgive you.”

“Oh my god— it’s not that big of a deal!”.

“You scared the shit out of ’em, love!” Matty’s voice rises, echoing through the room.

“You think everything was fine after I quit? I lost friends, y/n. I almost lost every single person in this room, and I probably would’ve if I hadn’t gotten my act together.”

“Well, good for you. You’re doing so great now,” you retort sarcastically, the bitterness evident.

Matty’s expression shifts from anger to confusion. “I just don’t understand what caused you to act out like this?”

“Well, the apple doesn’t fall far from the fucking tree,” you shoot back, your voice trembling with barely contained emotion. He knew what you were referring to. They all did.

“Y/n!” George’s voice breaks the momentary silence, his tone a mix of shock and reprimand.

“Take it back,” Matty demands, his dangerous. “Take it back right now, y/n.”

“You can’t be that surprised, can you?” you challenge, meeting his gaze without a flinch..

“You heard of the things I went through!” Matty’s voice cracks, a raw edge to his words.

“Are you kidding? I fucking saw the things you went through! The things you put me through!” Your voice rises, the anger and pain you’ve held back for so long spilling out. “The nights you chose that shit over me! The weeks and months you left me with George because you were too high or too irresponsible to take care of me! Your daughter!”

The room goes silent. Matty’s face is a mix of guilt and helplessness, but it soon turns to anger. “Go upstairs,” Matty finally says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stand up, your movements brisk and fast, and head towards the stairs. Each step feels like a mountain, the weight of the confrontation pressing down on you. As you reach your room, the door closes behind you with a soft click, cutting off the world outside.

—————

The next morning, you wake up to an empty house. Your father and George must have left early for the studio, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The silence is heavy, a stark contrast to the tension of the previous night. You sit on the edge of your bed, the events replaying in your mind, and decide to call George.

After a few rings, he picks up, voice chipper. “Well, look who’s up and out of her intoxicated state!”

You roll your eyes, though a small smile tugs at your lips. “I called to ask how your day was going, not to hear about my mistakes.”

“Awe, she cares!” George’s voice is teasing, but there’s warmth in it too.

“I always do,” you reply softly, the sincerity clear in your tone.

There’s a brief pause before George speaks again, his voice a bit more serious. “Your dad misses you. Won’t stop moanin’ and groanin’ about his girl.”

“You sure he’s not talking about another girl?” you ask.

George sighs. “You both said things you regret, babe. Fix it. Whatever is happening right now, it’s not worth it.”

“I know,” you admit, the guilt gnawing at you. “Thanks, George.”

“And if you ever do that tom-fuckery again, I will have your head in an old-fashioned guillotine.”

“Noted.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then you muster the courage to say, “I never said thank you for taking care of me then. So…thank you. For everything.”

George smiles a bit. “Just doing my duties as best uncle.”

“Hm.” You smile.

After hanging up, you sit quietly for a moment, absorbing the conversation. George’s words echo in your mind.

Later that day, you hear the familiar sound of the front door opening. Matty’s voice calls out, filled with tentative. “Baby girl? I’m home.”

You rush out from where you’ve been anxiously waiting, tears already streaming down your face. As soon as you see him, you crumble into his arms, mumbling through your sobs. “I’m sorry I mess up and I’m sorry for the things I said and the things I’ve done and I’m sorry you’re stuck with me and I’m sorry that I’m not the perfect kid but I really try to be and try to be that perfect kid for you and for everyone but it all just got a little much and I was trying to make things better and be an adult I guess and I got carried away and I’m sorry Daddy I’m just so sorry.”

He smiles, trying to hide his laugh at your words and ranting. He wraps his arms around you tightly, his voice soothing. “It’s gonna be fine, baby—”

“No it’s not,” you interrupt, your voice cracking with the weight of your guilt. “I messed up, I messed up bad. I made a mistake.”

“A mistake which you will never make again, correct?”

“I promise,” you whisper, your tears soaking into his shirt.

“Good. You’re not perfect, y/n. And thank god you’re not. Do you know how horrible I would feel if I had a perfect child? God, I could never keep up with you. You are smart and funny and so charismatic, and if it weren’t for you being my child, then you might have been perfect…” The tension starts easing. “But I don’t care,” Matty continues, his voice tender. “Because you are mine, and that’s all that matters to me.”

“I love you,” you say, your voice steadying as you look up at him.

“I love you most... but I will throw you in a river if you do that shit again,” Matty replies, a teasing glint in his eyes. Now, maybe, just maybe, healing can begin.

[muxshwriting]

our last summer

Cedric Diggory x reader

summary: your last summer with the love of your life before it's all cruelly stripped away || warnings: main character death, ANGST || word count: 904 || masterlist

REQUESTED by @quokka-supremacy : can i please ask for a really angsty fic about cedric diggory? I saw you did george weasley and was hoping something a bit 'our last summer' inspired. hope this is alright, have a good day my lovely!!

“Ced!” You yell after him. “Slow down.”

His laughter echoes back towards you as he runs up the hill, glancing back at you. “Come on!”

Your laughter soon joins his, “I’m trying!”

Your final summer before turning seventeen was spent like that, running through fields, finding secret picnics Cedric had made for you. He would explore the woods for hurs and then fall back into the gras to watch the stars. It was a perfect summer, the kind told of in idyllic storybooks of love and eternal happiness.

But nothing is eternal, summers end and love can fade.

★--~-~--★

You flop down into your seat at dinner, glad that the day is finally coming to a close.

“What’s up with you today? Everything alright?” Hermione asks.

“All of my friends have got dates to the ball but no one has asked me yet. I’m gonna be all alone at the dance.”

“You’ll be fine. What about Cedric?”

“He’s been avoiding me all week.” You grumble. “I just want to enjoy this year but I’ve spent most of it worrying about the tournament.”

"Cedric will be fine, trust me." She said. "He might actually win it."

You push her with your shoulder. "I thought you'd be behind Harry or Viktor Krum."

"I just want them both to be okay."

"So you know how I feel about Ced." You insist.

Hermione narrows her eyes. "You and Cedric are slightly different. You worry a whole lot more."

“Hermione-“

“What do you want me to say?” She asks. “What do you want?”

"I want to be with the boy I love at the Yule ball. And I want, by some miracle, for him to love me back. I want one pure moment of relief before the swift fist of life punches me in the gut again. And I want a moment when I don't have to face the reality that we might not work out in the long run."

“Uh huh?” She clears her throat. “You might want to turn around." Her eyes are focusing on something behind your shoulder and you turn. Your voice dies in your throat, seeing Cedric standing a couple metres behind you, clearly hearing every word that had been said.

"Might not work out huh?" He teased.

Your face flushes red, "Shut up Diggory."

"You first."

"Make me." You smirk.

"Gladly." He practically kept forward and pressed a brief kiss to your lips, smiling as he pulled away. “That good enough for you?”

“That was perfect.”

★--~-~--★

“I’m scared.” You whisper the fact into the nights air and feel Cedric’s arms tighten around you. “What if something happens to you?”

“Baby… nothing is going to happen to me, I’ll be perfectly fine.”

You’re reassured by his words but can’t shake the uneasy feeling you carry.

The third task was the most anticipated yet. Everyone had watched the maze grow all year, eagerly waiting to see their champions face it. You were more worried than others and also slightly relieved that it was coming to an end.

You celebrated as the Champions lined up, blowing Cedric a kiss just before he turned away.

Time dragged on as you waited for someone to return. Suddenly, both Harry and Cedric appeared on the grass and the crowd erupted into cheers. You could barely hear Harry’s frantic shouts of Voldemort’s return over the rising screams in your ears.

Cedric wasn't moving. Cedric wasn't blinking. Cedric wasn't breathing.

You stare in abject horror, realising you’re the one screaming. Your mind couldn’t form a complete sentence, just wanting to be near him but a pair of arms held you back. Someone turned you around, blocking your view and pushing you away from the crowds.

The sound of your heart breaking sent a shudder down your spine and made you fall to the ground. He wasn’t gone, right? He couldn’t be gone…

★--~-~--★

You gingerly trace one of the white roses, plucking it from its stem. Gently, you add it to your bouquet and carry it with you. Your feet dragged you down the gravel path, past the yew trees and towards his grave. There a stab of pain in your chest as you read his name, as it does every time you come here. But you’ll keep visiting. You won’t let Cedric be forgotten.

You crouch down, running a hand over the smooth stone. It’s cold, despite the sun beating down. It grounded you, making the world feel real and not just some messed up dream. You let the scent of the flowers wash over you, carefully placing them down on the ground and taking a step back.

From the Other Side, Cedric watches you as you walk away. You don’t glance back, even if you had you wouldn’t have seen him. You won’t ever see the golden curls and slanted smile that once gave so much joy.

Cedric watched his lover, wishing for nothing more than to be there and hold you in his arms. He wanted to go on one last walk through the countryside with you, wanted to watch the stars as they appear over the mountain crest, wanted to laugh for hours about anything at all and wanted to kiss your lips one more time. Because all the times that he had before were not enough. The time he had would never be enough.

If your love could have saved him, he would live forever...

i will not cry, i will not cry, i will not cry, i am crying

[luvkaulitz]

🌬️ OPEN ARMS

pairing : tom x female! reader

summary : the rain caused you to slip and get injured during your concert. you were now at the hospital bored before a worried Tom came rushing in.

author's note : hi guys I'm not dead I've just been busy with school 😜 btw this isn't proofread LOL

Tom was sitting in the break room, tapping his foot on the ground while scrolling through his phone. The room was quiet, the only sound heard was the fan blowing cool air towards him. The other boys were out getting something to eat. Normally Tom would've tagged along but he was too tired and just wanted to sit this one down.

Ding

Tom looked at the top of the screen to see a new twitter notification. Normally he'd just ignore them as he didn't bother to check anything that was trending. Although this time he saw a glimpse of the hashtag before the notification disappeared.

"Now trending: Y/N L/N injured during performance"

He sat up as his heart nearly dropped to his stomach. He was about to click on the twitter app before the door swung open revealing a Bill with a worried face plastered on his face.

Next came Gustav and Georg with the same expression. Georg had his phone open and walked up to Tom to show him whatever he was looking at.

On the screen was a news report about your injury and how you were currently in the hospital.

The others watched Tom jump out of his seat before he frantically begged the others to dial everyone that might know your whereabouts.

The boys scattered to find their phones, dialing your manager and friends as Tom directly tried calling your number.

Tom felt sick to his stomach once he dialed you five times but yet no one answered.

He looked back to Gustav and Georg watching as they shook their heads. No one was picking up.

Tom dialed you one final time before Bill screamed at them to come over to where he was standing.

"She's at ____ hospital, her room number is 238"

Tom blurted a thanks before running out of the building towards his car, only hoping you were not critically injured.

The car ride was long and quiet. Tom's patience was being tested when he hit the LA traffic. Finally he made it to the hospital you were in and asked the nurse where your room was.

"Hello, do you know where Y/N L/N is?"

"Sorry sir but only family is allowed in, may I ask how you're related to her?"

Tom was panting at this point, heart almost beating out of his chest. "I'm her fiance."

The nurse nodded and clicked something on her computer before pointing to the left.

"She should be the last door on the left sir."

Tom thanked the front desk nurse before running towards your door.

Tom took deep breaths before turning the door handle with his shaking hands. The hospital smell and the sound of machines beeping filled the room, as was the sound of a tv running in the background.

There you were. Laying on the bed with an arm cast and a bandage wrapped around your head.

You were awake, leaning against the bed's backboard while flipping through tv channels. The sound of the door opening made you drop the remote and look over to see who came to visit you.

You smiled seeing a worried Tom come rushing to your side. He grabbed a chair and pulled it beside you. He cupped your cheeks, softly caressing them with his thumbs.

"My love, what happened?"

You sighed and began telling him what happened during you and your band's concert.

It was being held at a nice venue outside which you were looking forward to but unfortunately it backfired. The weather switched up at the last minute. It was supposed to be a sunny day but instead heavy rain started falling causing the stage to get very slippery.

Your other bandmates were trying their best not to slip but of course you wore the wrong shoes for this occasion.

Your shoes made the stage even more slippery causing you to slip and fall directly off the stage.

You hit the ground with a thud, followed with a scream of pain. You banged the back of your head on the hard ground and landed on your right on your arm.

The next thing you knew was waking up in a hospital room.

Tom sighed and pulled his hands back to grab a hold of your uninjured hand.

"Do you feel better now?"

"Mhm I feel better than yesterday I know that."

You chuckled before scooting over to make room on the bed. Tom knew what you were doing and hesitated.

"Please Tommy?"

Tom looked up seeing you using your puppy eyes that somehow always worked on him. With another sigh Tom stood up before laying beside you on the hospital bed.

He pulled you in for a hug, being careful to not accidentally put any pressure on your fractured arm.

"Y/N."

"Mhm?"

"Ich liebe dich. (I love you)"

[bonny-kookoo]

Oh please please please please can we have a Drabble of off duty kook watching the body cam to learn what happened to OC!?

A/N: you wanted this. Obviously Warnings for angst, injury, medical emergency, gun violence.

The bodycam footage is a little shaky, but very good quality- and Jungkook kind of wishes it wasn't. Because the resulting details are just that much harder to cope with than if he couldn't quite make out properly what was happening.

"Put the gun down!" An officer he knows as George barks out on the laptop screen, holding out his own weapon. He repeats this command time after time,but the guy doesn't cooperate, your body on top of his, strangling his legs so he can't escape.

You're suddenly fighting with the man again, gaining the upper hand now as you kick the gun from his hands, successfully somewhat holding him hostage.

It's when the officer gets closer to you, others putting the violent man in cuffs, that Jungkook has to swallow hard.

"Medical is on the way. Good job there." George tells you, who's breathing deep and fast, swallowing often, looking around frantically. Jungkook knows what you're probably trying to prevent from happening- all of these things telltale signs of you being nauseous. "You still with me?" The officer asks, and you nod, eyes looking around. "No no no hey, stay here, yeah? Come on, you can do it-" George urges as you attempt to get up now, skin having lost its color as you struggle to stay composed, pain probably catching up to you.

There's blood on your hands, on your neck, and chin, darkened stains on your uniform. It's not clear where your wounds are, until George attempts to figure it out as well, finding multiple in the process. "Shh hey, hey puppy it's alright, it's okay. We're gonna get you help alright?" He calms you as you begin to panic more and more, eyes tearing up. "What's wrong? Talk to me?" He worries, as you look at the officer in front of you, having now somewhat laid down.

"I can't feel them-" You whimper, and George doesn't understand.

"Feel what?" He wants to know, keeps you up and alert for as long as needed.

"My- my legs, my tail, my-" you begin to whine, struggling to stay coherent, voice slurring. It's now that the officer removes your bulletproof vest and harness to search for something.

"Where'd you get shot darling?" The older man wants to know, and you whimper something out he can't quite understand. And even at the second attempt, your words stop making sense.

His hands find an entrance and exit wound in your thigh thats not bleeding much. Another shot has clearly landed in your lower back, another one right next to it. There's no exit wound to those two.

"Fuck- where's medical?!" He barks out towards some officers, who call something back that's not picked up by the camera on his vest. "Well tell them to hurry, she's bleeding out!" He urges angrily, before he moves to reassure you again as you start to become more and more panicked. The sound of your distressed crying makes Jungkook bite the inside of his cheek.

He hates the sound of it.

"Jungkook?" You slur out, a few times, and his heart breaks.

"Jungkook is okay, focus on yourself right now." The officer tells you instead.

"They're almost there." A young officer tells George.

"I sure hope so, I don't know how long she can keep fighting." He worries softly, watching you. "Hey- hey, no no, keep those eyes open!" He suddenly demands as you become awfully quiet, no longer crying anymore. George calls your name- but only your ears move a little towards him at the familiar sound, eyes becoming glossy and distant.

Jungkook can't stand the sight.

"You did a real good job, alright?" George tries to soothe you, keep your attention on him. "See? There's help- over here!" He calls out, as the medical personnel finally arrives to tend to you.

"And that's about it." Seokjin sighs. "That's.. well. That's what we got for now."

"Did she lose the leg?" Jungkook asks, and Seokjin shakes his head.

"No. The wound there wasn't actually that bad- the bullet had missed any larger arteries." Jin informs his coworker. "The issue where the other one's."

"Spinal injuries." Jungkook sighs.

"No." Seokjin denies, catching Jungkook's attention. "One bullet fractured her pelvis. the other ones damaged nerves, according to the doctors at the hospital. She's had her pelvis fixed during surgery-" the older police officer sighs. "But she'll probably have to receive one or several mods to fix the severed nerves."

"And that'll take months to heal." Jungkook mumbles. "Not even taking into account how long it'll take her to get used to everything." He hums to himself. "Fuck.."

"She'll most likely be let go." Seokjin states, and Jungkook nods.

"I know." Of course Jungkook knows. He's stuck in the same position after all.

And he really wished he could switch places with you, take all the hurt and give you the easier spot in this tough battle. But he can't.

All he can do, is try and be there for you for whatever time you've got left as partners.

[live-laugh-lenney]

Arthur tv one shot were yn does some kind of martial art (defo not specific to me 🤭) and they get injured in a comp and he takes care of them?

thank you! xoxoxo

loving and caring, worried, boyfriend!arthur has me swooning.

arthur remembered it vividly.

the way yn unexpectedly cried out loud once her foot laid flat on the mat beneath her feet, the way she fell to the floor clutching her knee in pain, the way her opponent stepped back out of shock and the way the room fell silent apart from the sobs that came from deep within her chest that bounced off the walls and echoed around the room.

he stood from his seat beside her coach, worry coursing through his veins, his stomach knotting with fear because he'd never seen her in such a vulnerable position before. and as he took timid steps toward where she was curled up on the floor, worming his way through the gaps of those who had rushed to her aid, he could hear her muttering soft profanities and they tried to stretch her leg out.

"i'm her boyfriend, can i sit with her?"

he didn't really know why he had asked that question; he was going to sit with her, and hold her hand, whether they allowed him to or not. he dropped to his knees beside her head, one hand cupping the back of her head whilst his other reached to hold onto one of her hands, a shiver running through her once she felt the familiar touch.

"this hurts so bad," she cries softly, eyes squeezed shut because she couldn't bear the look at those who were creating a fuss around her, "i don't know what happened. i went for a kick, it felt fine, but-"

"let's not worry right now, okay?" arthur says softly, using his thumb to wipe away the tears that were soaking her cheek, tendrils of her hair sticking to her skin from the moisture, "we'll get you checked out at the hospital, yeah? i think someone's called an ambulance."

"no," she frantically shakes her head and it's the first time she opens her eyes, full of tears and panic and arthur's sure he felt his own eyes collecting moisture because he hated seeing her in such a way, "i'm fine, it's just a sprain, i'm sure of it. i didn't do anything harsh to make it break or twist it. i've done that move thousands of times, arthur!"

"i know, i know," he says, watching as a first-aider stretched out and bent up her knee to see any damage that had been done, her winces and groans of pain enough for them to realise she'd done something major enough to require a doctor's opinion, "it's best to get checked, lovie. i'll be with you the whole time, i promise."

"the whole time?"

he nods quickly and she lets out a deep breath through her mouth, a gulp being swallowed back as she looked at where the source of her pain was coming from, no redness or bruising to make her worry but she knew it was something that would keep her from competing for a while.

once the ambulance had arrived and she'd been taken to the nearest hospital to get checked out, pumped full of antibiotics to keep the pain from worsening and to help keep her swelling at bay, she felt a little more at ease. relaxing a little more when she was attached to all the monitors in her own ward, awaiting for her x-ray results, feeling a little drowsy but wanting nothing more than to go home to her own bed and her own home comforts.

arthur stayed by her side, the entire time.

even though she insisted he went home for a little bit, because she didn't know how long she was going to be waiting for, he insisted on staying with her. he didn't want to leave her alone, no when she was so vulnerable and scared and unknowing of what was happening to her knee.

"remember the night george cracked his fat head open?" arthur asks, filling the silent room with something other than the whirring of the machinery and the beeping of her heart monitor, "and we sat with him the entire night whilst he had his head stitched up."

"when chris went for a spin on the wheelchair he found and he nearly ended up in the hospital himself?" yn snickers and arthur laughs out loud, shaking his head at the memory of halloween the previous year, adjusting his seated position in the chair beside her bed, "the man's eyebrow grew back bushier than ever."

he leans forward in his chair and reaches for her hand, squeezing it softly, eyes focused on the pillow that was keeping her knee bent at a more comfier angle than laid flat out, the way she kept wiggling her toes to make sure she still had movement.

"i'm sorry for this," she mutters and he shakes his head, "seriously, i am. you could be back home right now, streaming or doing a video, not sat in the hospital with me and my stupid knee."

"i don't mind," he insists, "at least i know you aren't by yourself. you're my girlfriend, i'd drop everything for you, lovie."

she scrunches her features up and smiles at him, and she squeezes his hand back in response, letting her head drop back against the pillow behind her head.

"it can't be much longer, surely," she wonders and arthur looks at the watch on his wrist, "how long have we been here?"

"a couple of hours, at least," he informs her, "shall i go and find out?"

a sprain.

she was certain it was more than just a simple sprain, given the pain she felt when she first set her foot back on the ground in the gym, but she couldn't have been happier to know it wasn't a break or a fracture or a twist in her knee that required extensive surgery and a lot of physiotherapy to get her walking again. yn was sent back home with antibiotics to treat the swelling and the pain as well as with the strict rule of staying off of her feet for a couple of weeks...

... and arthur insisted she stayed with him.

half of her belongings were at his house, anyway; pants and socks to keep fresh, she could wear his tees to bed, and he had fresh stock of her shampoo and conditioner as well as her favourite body scrubs and washes so it wasn't necessary to stop off at her house. the only thing that felt daunting was the steps that were needed to get to his front door.

"i'll just carry you in the foyer," arthur says as the uber stops outside of his apartment complex and she rolls her eyes, "i'm not having you walk on it. not so soon after it's happened."

"arthur-"

"no," he holds a finger to her lips and she frowns in his direction, "i'll leave your crutches in the reception area and i'll come back and get them when you're settled upstairs. let me look after you, please."

"fine," she huffs and he exits the car, running round the back to help her out of the other side, letting her lean all of her weight on him, "i'm not an invalid though, arthur."

"i know," he smiles, closing the door behind them as the uber drives away back down the road, "i just want to look after you, okay? let me take care of you." xx

[florida3exclamationpoints]

I remember seeing a post one time that said it was so terrible how Maria said she was frightened and ran away from a man and the reverend mother told her to go back and sometimes I think about that and get so annoyed... Maria said "I was frightened" and the reverend mother's FIRST reaction was a very frantic and worried "were they unkind to you?" And Maria said no very sincerely and then explained. The reverend mother isn't stupid she knows Maria very well. She knows when she's lying. And even tho the movie never said it specifically (besides Maria's "wicked childhood / miserable youth") in real life she was abused as a child so the reverend mother probably ALSO knows what Maria's trauma responses look like. She ALSO ALSO said that Georg was a "fine and brave man" and was comfortable sending Maria to work for him in the first place so already knew him and his character pretty well too!!! This woman oversees a community of all women including lots of young and confused women trying to escape something (including nazis!!!) and she obviously takes her responsibility seriously and she wouldn't just throw Maria into a potentially abusive situation!!!

[maraschinomerry]

Sidekick

Pairings: George Karim x gn!reader

Summary: The shelves in the basement collapse on George, and he offers to help you fix them.

Content: fluff, mild injury, more fluff, first kiss

A/N: this is dedicated to my dad, who did actually teach me DIY, and to @oblivious-idiot who encouraged me to write this definitely-not-based-on-real-experiences lil fic ❤️

Word count: 2.2k

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear @honey-with-tea @mischiefmanaged71 (let me know if you want adding or removing!)

The serenity of a morning without work in 35 Portland Row was interrupted by a rather spectacular crash. Concerned, you leapt from your place in the living room, flinging your book onto the sofa and dashing into the hallway with two pairs of thundering footsteps on the stairs above.

“What was that?” Lockwood called, and though you couldn't make out the reply you could tell it was Lucy above him. That just left George, in the basement. Oh god. Not that you wouldn't have been worried if it was either of the others, but you'd had a crush on the boy ever since you joined the agency two months ago and the thought of something happening to him lent a panicked urgency to your movements. You burst through the kitchen door, into the basement and were immediately met with a whirlwind of papers scattered across the floor. In the middle of it all, surrounded by half-empty files and pieces of broken shelf, was George, sitting on the ground looking dazed.

“Shit, George, are you okay?” you rushed down the spiral staircase, dropping to your knees as you frantically checked him over. There was a red mark leading into his hairline and a piece of splintered wood tangled in his curls. He tilted his head, taking in the destruction before turning his gaze up through his eyelashes to you, whose hand was in his hair searching for any hidden injuries. Your breath caught in your throat. You realised this was the first time you'd touched him more than just in passing, and the way he was looking at you had your stomach doing backflips. This wasn't how you'd expected a moment like this to come about. It didn't much matter, because the moment was quickly broken by Lockwood and Lucy scrambling down the stairs. You pulled back, knowing you had no reason to be embarrassed but still feeling vulnerable to be caught so close to him.

“I think the shelves broke,” George stated simply.

“Is he okay?” Lockwood directed the question to you. Probably for the best, you weren't sure the other boy could be trusted to judge his condition too well. “Looks like he got hit in the forehead, and fell of course. Can't find anything serious though.”

“Someone should still keep an eye on him. Luce, do we have any ice?”

Lucy nodded, turning back towards the kitchen while Lockwood made his way further down the stairs. “Come on, mate,” he murmured as he draped one of George's arms over his shoulder, gently helping him to his feet and back upstairs.

You spent the next few hours hovering anxiously. George had settled into an armchair in the library, bag of ice pressed to his head to begin with. Lockwood and Lucy were sorting the spilled papers and came in every so often, bringing painkillers and tea, but you stayed the whole time. He tried to assure you that he was okay, but you knew by the way he occasionally furrowed his brow and grimaced at the book he was trying to read that a headache was brewing.

“Are you sure you're alright? You look like you're in pain, can I do anything to help?”

George hesitated. “I just… no, it's silly.”

“No, please, what is it?”

“I've only got one page left of this chapter, but my head hurts and I can't focus properly. Would you… would you read it?”

You took the book and settled into the other armchair. Once you began to read, George closed his eyes to shut out the lights and leant back with a contented smile.

—

The next day at breakfast, after everyone had checked in on George, Lockwood brought up the basement.

“I'm going to call some contractors today, see if we can get some new shelves installed. Lucy and I have got all the papers stacked, but we need to get them properly organised and we can't do that if the office is still a wreck.”

You frowned. “Or we could just order the supplies and I'll build them? Saves paying someone else to do it.”

“You can do that?”

“I mean, I think so?” You began to doubt yourself a little, but pressed on. “My dad taught me how to do all sorts of DIY stuff. That's how I fixed the rapier stand.”

“That was you?!” Lucy looked at you, baffled. “But how, I didn't think we had any tools?”

You beckoned them to follow you and led them up the stairs to your room. You didn't have much, just a wardrobe for your clothes and a few books on your desk, but there was a wooden storage chest at the end of your bed which you opened and allowed them to look inside. To the left was a metal toolbox, and Lockwood unfolded it to reveal screwdrivers, spanners, pliers, a small hammer and sections of screws, bolts and washers. Behind the box was a saw in its sleeve and a large pair of wire strippers, and in their own cases alongside were a drill and a soldering iron.

“You are so cool,” George grinned.

That weekend, a van pulled up outside the house. A stocky man with a thick ginger beard brought in several sheets of wood and a box, stacking them in the hallway. George helped you carry them down to the basement, and once everything was set he lingered at the bottom of the stairs. His forehead was less swollen now, and his eyes were bright and alert as he watched you set up.

“I know you've got this covered, but do you want a hand? I feel bad that you're fixing my mess.”

You smiled softly at him. It was these glimpses of tenderness underneath the blunt, snarky persona he used with others that had drawn you to him in the first place, but you wondered how many others got to see it besides you. “It wasn’t your fault, but help would be great actually.”

He moved forward with a mock salute. “Just tell me what you need, boss.”

—

You couldn't believe how much you were enjoying your afternoon. At least, you thought it was the afternoon - it was hard to tell how much time passed in the basement, but you weren't on a deadline and didn't much care how much time it took as it meant more time with George. It had turned out to be incredibly helpful having him around - for the most part he let you do what needed to be done, but the instant you needed an extra pair of hands to hold the wood in place or pass you something he was by your side. The best part of it all was being able to talk. The two of you had chatted before, of course, but it being just the two of you in such close proximity meant the conversation went much deeper than it ever had before. George had asked about your dad, based on your comment about him teaching you how to build things, which gave both of you the chance to open up about your families more. It always broke your heart to hear him think of himself as the weirdo of his family; your dad was a little on the eccentric side which had rubbed off on you. That was probably why you and George had connected in the first place.

“I hope you get to meet my dad some day,” you thought aloud. “I think he'd get on well with you.”

“I'd like that,” George flushed a little as he handed you the drill. You'd got the first few shelves put together and on the wall, working your way up until you were now at chest height. You glanced up at the empty space leading to the ceiling.

“Do we have a ladder?”

George pulled a face and gestured to a small set of steps in the corner. That would have to do.

You climbed up, ignoring the slight wobble, and George passed you a pair of brackets which you screwed into place. Then, you picked up the plank of wood for the shelf. Shit. The steps were slightly too close to be able to swing the wood into place easily, but if you moved back you'd only have to bring them closer again to get the screws in. You took a risk and leaned back.

The steps wobbled even more.

You gasped.

The steps stopped wobbling.

George's hand was on the small of your back, keeping you steady, while his foot rested firmly on the lower frame. You swallowed thickly, not wanting to make things weird but trying to savour the sensation.

As soon as it was clear you weren't going to fall, George's hand retracted. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn't mean to…”

“No, it's fine,” you cut in, praying your face was less red than it felt. “That helped, thanks.”

“Well, I did offer,” he chuckled with a shrug and you laughed along, the tension between you dissipating. You felt it return a little when you prepared to make the move again; this time George placed both hands delicately, respectfully, on your waist, but somehow you both settled into it and it felt almost natural. Would this be how it felt if he…? No, not the time.

With the wood in place, George passed you a handful of screws and you clamped them in your teeth to free up your hands for the drill. George was still standing on the bottom of the steps, gazing up at you in wonder.

“I feel like the sidekick to an agent.”

You giggled. “George, you are an agent.”

“No!” He swatted playfully at your arm. “I mean like a secret agent with all the cool gadgets. I'm the Q to your Bond.” He began humming the James Bond theme, miming shooting bad guys with the drill whenever you handed it to him. At one point, you aimed it at him and he dropped dramatically to the ground, making you laugh so much you almost fell off the now unguarded ladder.

The enticing scent of dinner drifting down from the kitchen told you it was getting late, but you were finally finished. Wiping a few flakes of sawdust from your hands, you stepped back to admire your work.

“They're fantastic, y/n,” George was already adding files to the lower shelves. “Really impressive.”

“Thanks,” you replied bashfully.

George stopped, fidgeting anxiously with the corner of the folder he was holding. “I mean it. You're so talented and caring, and I really do appreciate you looking after me the other day and letting me help, I didn't do anywhere near as much as you but I… Well, I liked being able to spend the time with you.”

You felt yourself melting and tensing at the same time. You'd been hoping for so long that he had feelings the way you did, but how could you be sure you weren't misreading things? George seemed to sense your hesitation, and his face fell. He was going to pull back. You were going to lose your chance. You stepped forward, taking the folder and placing it to one side. The action made your fingers brush against George's, and you were pleasantly surprised when his nervous movements transferred to him linking his fingers loosely with yours and running his thumb across your palm. Every brush sent sparks up your arm, and you struggled to focus on what you wanted to say.

“You don't need an excuse to hang out with me, George. I've always got time for you.”

His fingers wove a little tighter, and he scrunched his glasses back up his nose. His face was always so cute when he did that. “How about tomorrow? Coffee after we've been to the Archives?”

Your cheeks were definitely red this time, but you didn't mind. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“Depends,” he bit his lip. “Are you saying yes?”

You simply smiled, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips. He blinked at you in surprise for a second, then wrapped his free hand around your waist to pull you in closer. This time the kiss was deeper. He tasted like the tea he'd brought down an hour ago, rich and earthy with a hint of sweetness, an aftertaste of ginger. In the back of your mind you were aware of Lucy calling you both for dinner, but right now there was no taste that could tempt you away. George let out a soft sound from the back of his throat when you wound your hand into the curls at the nape of his neck, his own hand clutching at the fabric of your top like a lifeline. The creak of the basement door forced you to finally break apart and hastily straighten yourselves out.

“Nice work, you two!” Lucy grinned at the new shelves as she poked her head down the stairs. “You should work together more often.”

“I'm sure we will,” George threw you a wink and a quick, hidden squeeze of your hand as he passed you, following Lucy up into the warm glow of the kitchen.

[saltwaterburns]

Hey! If it’s alright, may I request Lockwood and co x reader (platonic) where they comfort reader after finding out their partner cheated on them with a close friend?

intertwined, sewn together - lockwood & co.

This is so extremely late and I'm so sorry but this whole thing just, clicked today. I also included Holly from the books, I hope that's okay!! You can switch her and Lucy's places, though, it's not relevant to the plot. This one is short, but hopefully enough 🤍

Small sobs are wrecking your body as you hurry down the road, the soft pitter patter sound of raindrops falling down around you echoing throughout the entire street. The weather is gloomy, the entire sky painted almost black with the hues of dark blue clouds, the rumble of oncoming thunder heard in the distance. You suppose it's slightly funny that mother nature is keen upon showing off your inner turmoil to other people like this, because it's almost a picture perfect copy of how you feel.

How could you have been so stupid? You knew it was a bad idea to date someone, taking your current occupation into consideration. It was even worse of an idea when that someone was a bloody Fittes agent. But you decided to make an exception, to finally cave and try something new, something exhilarating. You really thought you could make it work with him, oblivious to the little white lies his mouth was spewing the whole time you were together about how he'd treat you like you were the loveliest girl on the planet. Yet here you are, tears shining on your red and blotchy cheeks after seeing him with his tongue stuck down another agents throat. Its not her fault, of course. At least you hope. You're praying that he hadnt told that girl anything, that she had no idea about your existence. You really dont want to hate her. You've seen her around the archives sometimes when you're tagging along with George to work on some research. She was always the only one to send a kind smile your way, often times making the tips of George's ears turn pink.

You turn around the corner and as Portland Row comes into your line of sight, the tight grip on your heart starts loosening. Home. You quicken your step and just when you reach the threshold to the house, it starts pouring down behind you. The streets quickly become flooded and you smile weakly in victory for making it there before getting soaked, messing around with the doorknob a bit before managing to somehow get it to open.

You let the door slam shut behind you and the gut wrenching feelings return now that you managed to arrive at home. Soft glow is emitting from the kitchen alongside gentle muffled laughter you manage to pick up and the melancholy feeling makes your eyes well up again.

"Y/N? Are you back already?" Someone asks. It snaps you out of your thoughts and you look up, quickly wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands. Holly is standing before you, her head tilted to the side in confusion, then worry. "Have you been crying?"

You shake your head frantically, not trusting yourself with the task of speaking. You're pretty sure nothing but a sob would leave your mouth right now. But Holly knows, Holly always knows. She opens her arms and pulls you into her warm embrace and for a moment you feel like a kid who has scraped her knee and is now crying silently in the arms of her mother. She sits down with her back leant against the wall and pulls you down alongside her, her hands not once leaving yours. You sit beside her and your head rests on her shoulder, her arm wrapped around you. Not a word is spoken, but her presence feels like a snug, homemade blanket smelling of cinnamon buns. Even if they're low carb.

Two presences join you. Its one for all and all for one, after all. George and Lockwood situate themselves down on either side of you and Holly. A moment of silence passes, and then Lockwood breaks. "I knew it. I knew he would end up being a slimy git. What else can you expect from Fittes agents these days. I'll hunt him down, I swear. He will regret the day he messed with an asset of Lockwood & Co."

The sudden outburst makes a small flame of joy spark in your chest and before you know it, you giggle. You cover your mouth in embarrassment, but then Holly also giggles and before you know it, you're a heap of laughing mess on the floor with George and Lockwood snickering beside you as well.

"I could steal something from Fittes again and blame it on him?" George offers, brushing it off as a mere joke when Holly looks up at him bewilderedly. You laugh again, your stomach cramping at the action and thank him, whispering that you'll think about it when Holly is distracted by noticing that Lucy is approaching, waving her over. Lucy sits down in front of you, offering you a doughnut from a big plate. You grab one (chocolate filling, your favourite) and thank her with a little smile. She smiles back and takes your hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"I'm here for you, babe, always. We all are. That prick wouldn't recognise a good thing even if it hit him in the face," she says, rolling her eyes. Everyone is keen to agree, starting to list things wrong with the man. You're glad that they haven't forced you talk about what went down, the ache of it still very real inside your heart. You would tell them, eventually. For the safety of the bloke. He should've thought about having bloodthirsty agents after him before sticking his tongue down her throat.

You lean back into Holly's side, her arm sneaking around you. All of them are laughing and excitedly conversing with each other but you're glad to stay out of it for now, doing your best to memorise this moment so you can revisit it when the feelings become too much. Your friends are the things you hold closest to your heart, you're sure of it now.