#George would be the best big a little could ask 4
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Last night I had this this big brained thought of the 2019 rookies as sorority girls lol. Like do y'all think George would be one of the basement girls during rush
#Like what sorority would each of them be in#I can imagine Lando being one of those blue kkg girls from Tennessee ngl. IK U WANNA GOOO#Yap temple#Lando Norris#george russell#alex albon#f1#formula one#U will NOT catch Alex dancing in TikToks for rush at all#George would be the best big a little could ask 4#She runs rush like a well oiled machine from the basement each year#George and Lando being the sorority ambassadors for those sorority centric clothing brands#Like pepper mayo. Evry jewels. hello Molly. Princess polly. White Fox etc...#Do not question how Alex ended up here đ¤#But she does her job well which is to say she shirks it :3#Only seen at bid day during the entire rush process bc that shits mandatory#mclaren#mercedes amg petronas#williams racing#Williams
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hot rookie slagsss rides again! 'tis the season to have normal thots about your co-workers. thank you to @ctimenefic and @latecomersprivilege for making this one billion times better.
read part one - alex albon and his foot thing
Lando has no idea where he is. Couldnât tell you the time for a million quid. He might be in a completely different country. Thereâs been a bottle in his hand since he stepped onto the podium. Champagne, beer, shots.Â
A bottle of water was thrust at him at some point but Party in the USA blasted over the speakers so he poured it over Andrea making him squeal.Â
Heâs drunk. Heâll admit it. Probably passed drunk a few miles back. Totally hammered, as promised. Heâs not the only one.
Everyone around him is grinning like mad. Hands clap him on the back so often heâs sure heâll be bruised between his shoulder blades come morning. He doesnât know who half the people are but it doesnât matter. Itâs all love tonight, everyone high as kites from topping the Constructors and whatever else is getting passed around.
Itâs a good feeling. One of the best heâs ever had. It makes him really âÂ
Horny.
Like, disturbingly so.Â
Disturbing because when he spots Oscar in the corner â looming over Lily with her back to the wall, one hand braced beside her head as she pulls him in by the collar to snog the pants off him â everything else shuts down apart from the klaxon in his brain screaming: I want, I want I want.Â
Itâs confusing. It doesnât make sense.Â
Itâs â really hot how Lily doesnât stop snogging Oscar as she turns his cap around, hand on the back of his neck pulling him closer. Really gives it to him with both barrels. Oscarâs hand creeps around to her waist, holding her close. Lando is glad the music is so loud so no one can hear him moan.Â
Lando pulls out his phone. The background is super blurry, battery on a precarious 3%. He has to squint one eye as he peers down, tongue between his teeth as he opens Hot Rookie Slagsss.Â
Lando: how do u ask some1 4 a 3some
George: Oh good, youâre alive
George: Donât bother replying to any of the other fifty messages
Alex: who are you asking
Lando: no one
George: just a hypothetical question at 4 in the morning
Lando: dont use big words
Alex: imagine youâre asking us
Lando: u and russell?
George: Surely Alex means us and our girlfriends
Alex: surely
Lando thinks about asking the boys and their fit girlfriends for a threesome and, yeah. Obviously thatâs a nice thought. There are so many nice thoughts flooding Landoâs brain right now he feels a little sick.
Lando: alex do u & lily wanna have 3some
George: Oh, of course you ask Alex and not me. Typical.Â
Alex: now, now Georgie, donât be jealous
George: Unbelievable.Â
Alex: Lily says youâre too short
Lando: im a NORMAL HEIGHT
George: Whatever Frodo
Lando: ever think u 2 r freakishly tall
Alex: no
Lando is distracted from the bickering in his phone by the way Lilyâs hands are moving down the back of Oscarâs ugly too-long shorts to cup his arse. Lando wants to be in the middle of it, to feel their hands roam over him, to let himself float in space as two sets of lips press against his neck.Â
Oscarâs being so sloppy, licking along Lilyâs jaw, sharp teeth biting down before thrusting his tongue back in her mouth. Jesus Christ.Â
Lando: guys im dying here
George: in my experience, one simply waits to be asked
Lando: thats not gonna happen
George: Maybe for youâŚ
Lando: wait
Lando: who did u have a 3some with
Lando: WHO
Lando: alex who was it
George: Alexander donât you dare
Lando: WHOWHOWHOWHO
Alex: as discussed, Lily likes tall men
Lando: omgggggg
George: Youâd best count your days Albon because you are so fucking dead
Alex: Lily wants to know what hotel youâre at
George: can we please take this to the other chat
Lando: WHAT other chat
Alex: secret threesome chat
George: I could do a murder and no one would blame me
Lando watches the three dots showing Alex typing and then his screen goes blank. He presses the power button furiously, willing the phone to light up but itâs dead.Â
Lando considers flinging it across the room. Would be happy to never hear from his so-called friends again. The nerve, having secret threesomes willy-nilly behind his back. Absolute fuckers, the lot of them.Â
There are cheers across the room. One of the mechanics has unearthed another magnum of champagne (where on earth do they keep finding these things) and is uncorking it, urging Oscar to tip his head back.Â
It takes two of the mechanics to hoist it into the air. Oscar has to crouch, practically on his knees, mouth open wide as the fizz sloshes over his cheeks, foaming down his neck, soaking his shirt. Lando grips the sticky table in front of him, crotch pressed to the corner, his entire body throbbing in time to the music.Â
Lily stands to the side, hand over her mouth, hair all mussed up from where Oscarâs been clutching it. She catches Landoâs eye and gestures at Oscar, silently asking him to get a load of this guy.Â
Landoâs got a load of it alright. A big one.Â
Lando doesnât know how it happens but one second heâs humping the table and the next heâs on his knees next to Oscar, lukewarm champagne stinging his eyes for the hundredth time that day.Â
It splashes all over Lilyâs shoes and Lando follows the long line of her legs, her hips, tilting his head back to look at her face. Sheâs beaming down at him, totally unbothered by the sloshing between her toes.Â
Everything is so wet.
âHow do you feel about short blokes?â Lando slurs and she bends down, one hand on his shoulder.
âHow short are we talking about?âÂ
Lando looks over helplessly at Oscar, two arms wrapped around some of the front office guys, wet t-shirt clinging to his chest. From this angle he can see the sharp grooves of Oscarâs abs, can count every single muscle straining as he laughs.Â
Not that anyone cares, but him and Lando are literally the same height.Â
Lily shrugs. âReckon thatâs ideal.â
Georgeâs stupid fucking voice rings in Landoâs ears: One simply waits to be asked.Â
Heâs going to rub this in their handsome faces.
#my fics#f1#f1 rpf#alex albon#aa23#lando norris#ln4#george russell#gr63#galex#mctwinks#landoscar#hot rookie slagsss#obviously there needs to be a part 3 from george's pov
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good luck, babe! | chapter 2
regina george x reader
summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didnât think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.
a/n: i wasnât gonna add cady but now i am because itâs convenient for me so just pretend sheâs in the last chapter lol. also they get high way faster than whatâs accurate but i wrote this in like 4 sittings it felt longer to me pls spare me. if the picture collage thing is ugly i���m sorry iâm not a tumblr native đ but anyways big thanks to everyone who interacted with the first chapter mwah!!!!! (photo creds from left to right: @/mediorcesav on insta, @/marvelsgirl616, casual mv by chappell roan)
ââââââââââââââââââââââ
When the bell rings after 7th period, youâre already halfway out the door.
Youâre already sober enough from earlier so youâre desperate to get outside, even if Regina will be there. You bite the inside of your mouth in annoyance. You like your after school alone time; you didnât want the person who literally ruined your social life to be there. At least maybe sheâll leave right after you smoke. You realize she most likely wonât after you remember she drives. How could you forget that bedazzled orange Jeep?
You feel the dappled sunlight sink heat into your skin once you enter the woods behind the baseball field. It really was a nice day. You make your way to your usual spot and lift up the pile of sticks and leaves that hide your forest stash. The guy who sells to you charges a ridiculous amount for carts compared to just the plant so you try to use them sparingly. Even if this shit stinks up the whole forest.
Youâre not sure if Regina will care or not if you start without her, so you pull out your phone to pass the time. Besides, you want to be sober anyway when she finally shows.
After about 20 minutes of standing there, you start to get impatient. You almost pull the bag out to start without her before you finally see a flash of blonde hair from behind the trees.
âTook you long enough.â you mutter, already opening the bag without paying Regina much attention. Your patience was windeled, and you donât especially want to talk to her anyway.
âSorry I have a social life. I guess you wouldnât know,â she snaps back, her voice strained.
You feel the annoyance crawl down your back like a centipede, and you have to bite the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from saying something back to her. She holds basically your life in her hands since youâd be both fucked and poor if she decided to snitch on you. Probably not a good idea to start a fight on the first day of your little deal, but she made it difficult.
You grab one of the cans from under the pile of leaves as you see Regina cross her arms a couple feet away from you. Her eyes watching your every move makes you a bit wary on instinct. You feel like a mouse being stalked by a snake. You grab a decently sized piece out of the bag and put it on the crushed can. You couldnât be bothered to roll your own blunts, so this was the next best thing.
âHow much have you smoked before?â you ask, just wanting a general idea on how much she should have so that you wouldnât have to drag her to the parking lot. Apparently, she takes great offense.
âWhat are you, my mom? Just hurry up so I can get out of here,â she says begrudgingly, like being out here was the biggest possible drag on her life. She was really grating on your last nerve right now.
âTrying my best.â you respond dryly, giving her a snide smile as you fiddle with the lighter.
âWell, obviously itâs not good enough. What are you even doing, anyway? This is the shadiest shit Iâve ever seenââ
You blow the first hit out of your mouth harshly. âCan you please just shut the fuck up? I donât want to be out here with you either!â
âThatâs shocking. Iâm surprised this isnât your ultimate wet dream, being alone in the forest with me,â Regina sneers, nothing but disgust on her face. Like you were some kind of animal instead of human.
âWhatâs that going off of? The photo collection that you made up?â you snap, putting the can down for a minute. âBelieve me, I want nothing to do with you either. But since weâre gonna be out here every day, you could at least make it a little easier.â
You can tell she wants to rip your throat out just by the way she looks at you. Pursed lips, downturned eyebrows, piercing blue eyes surrounded by eyeliner almost as sharp as the look sheâs giving you right now. Sheâs way too tense for someone about to get high.
âWhatever.â she finally says, although the edge to her voice makes you want to scoff. Better not to sour her mood more than necessary, though.
Pleased with the newfound silence, you light the piece on top of the can once more and take another hit. Itâs strong enough to make you cough, and you sit down against the foot of a tree. Regina raises an eyebrow at you.
âI thought you were supposed to be some kind of professional,â she says, but her voice isnât quite as taunting as before. It almost sounded like a joke. Maybe she was considering not making this hell for you after all.
âItâs not good if it doesnât make you cough.â you respond with a shrug. She looks at you expectantly, but you pretend you donât see. You donât want to have to stand back up just to pass her the can.
Eventually, she sits next to you (albeit, begrudgingly) and you pass the can to her, lighting it again when she puts her lips up to it. She explodes into a coughing fit the minute the smoke hits her lungs.
You canât help but snicker at the sight of Regina George coughing her lungs out with just one hit from the can. It was almost strange to see her not perfectly arranged the way she was at school. You were up close enough to see the strings that sew her together.
She glares at you from the corner of her eye, but it only makes you laugh harder. Youâre acting stupid right now and youâre aware of it, but you canât stop. Itâs a nice sort of high. Not like when you smoke too much and everything starts to blur together, which happens more than youâd like to admit. But this is nice. You lean back until your back touches the grass.
Regina has a couple more hits until sheâs smoked about everything thatâll come out of it, and you both just lay there on the forest floor. Youâre surprised she isnât whining about dirt getting on her outfit. Maybe sheâs too stoned to care. She never did answer your question about her tolerance.
Your thoughts go elsewhere as you stare up at the sky. The tops of the trees cover most of it. The sun from behind the leaves make them look almost as if they are glowing. Itâs so beautiful. You wish you could reach up and feel it between your own fingertips, the fabric of the sky.
âYou donât care about what I think about you.â You hear Regina say, her voice only a couple of feet away from you. It sounds more like a statement than a question.
You donât why itâs funny to you, but it is. You feel the laugh escape your lips before you can stop it.
âI guess not.â you respond, even though youâre not certain if she wanted a response. It sounded like she was just thinking out loud. You feel that.
âEveryone else does. They grovel to me like lap dogs.â she says amusingly, although her voice drags and you can tell sheâs starting to get tired.
âYou donât like it?â you ask with surprise.
âItâs the way it should be,â she declares, as if youâre stupid for even asking. âBut everyone else is a less hot version of me. It gets annoying talking to the same clones that hang onto my every word. Like, just be normal for once in your life,â Regina complains, an annoyed edge in her tone near the end. Somehow you could tell she was talking about Gretchen. That poor girl really did hang onto every little thing Regina said or did. It was almost worshipful. But in an unfortunate, sad kind of way.
Her problems didnât seem all that hard compared to others, but you donât say anything. Itâs intesting to you to hear her talk about this stuff, to see what goes on in her head. Youâd never really considered what her life was like. You wonder if thereâs a reason sheâs the way that she is. There must be. Everyoneâs a product of their environment in some shape or form. Of course, it doesnât excuse everything sheâs done, but that thought makes you want to get inside her head somehow.
You shake your head at the silly train of thought. Regina George was just plain mean. Nothing more to it. You turn your head to look at her as you realize you never responded.
Her eyes are closed, hair splayed out on the forest ground. She looks stoned as fuck, her chest rising and falling dangerously slow. You snort and roll your eyes. How low was her tolerance? You already felt mostly normal again.
Somehow she still manages to look perfect, even if you could mistake her as a corpse. You lay your head back down. Your parents wouldnât mind if you were home a little late, right?
-
After that, you and Regina would meet to smoke behind the school almost every day, except when Regina had plans with her friends and you would just go alone. You still wish she wasnât there, but sometimes sheâs okay to talk to when she isnât being a priss. She complains about her friends and boys and how sometimes in the morning her eyelash curler refuses to work. Itâs entertaining to hear about how shallow her problems are. You still want to punch her most of the time, though.
This time around, however, sheâs complaining about math. Something about her teacher failing her on purpose or something to make her have sex with him to get her grade up. You seriously doubt thatâs true, but you listen anyway.
âLike, heâs totally obsessed with me. I know how to do the work, but he always marks it as wrong anyway. That Cady girl helps me with it, and sheâs some kind of math freak.â Regina exclaims, taking a huge hit from the smoking can. She immediately sputters and you take the can back from her with a slight roll of your eyes. Thatâs probably enough for her.
âIs she, though?â you ask, taking a hit from the can yourself. âSheâs in my Calc class and lately sheâs been doing really shitty. I guess you guys are rubbing off on her,â you say with amusement.
Regina takes a deep breath, an agitated sigh coming out of her. âWhatâs the point of her tutoring me, then? Theyâre gonna take me off the soccer team if I donât start passing like all of my classes. Itâs like she wants me to fail.â she seethes, and she sounds genuinely upset. She could afford to pay attention in class instead of doing her makeup if better grades is what she wants, but alas.
You kind of want to offer to help her, but itâs her own fault so you bite your tongue. You put the can down with a sharp sigh. Youâd rather not smoke too much around her in fear that youâll start acting stupid and sheâll post it all over the internet. Just the slightly more giggly high is fine for now.
Regina stares bullets through you as your stash back under the pile of leaves. You pick up your backpack and get ready to leave. You feel fine enough to walk home.
âYouâre not gonna offer to help me?â she asks indignantly, as if you owed it to her. You have to bite your lip to keep from groaning in annoyance. Could she be any more of a spoiled brat?
âWhy would I do that?â you respond, feeling that your distaste seeps through your voice as well as your expression. Youâre tired, both from school and from hanging out with Regina for too long. You just want to go home.
âBecause Iâm keeping your secret?â she says with that tone that reminds you of a viper. The one she uses to get whatever she wants from people by threatening to ruin them. Your chest bubbles with that same anger as that day in the cafeteria.
âDude, Iâm literally your plug. Iâve done enough for you to keep your mouth shut.â you snap, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. She was really starting to piss you off. Thatâs how it was with Regina; just when you think sheâs all right, she starts doing this bullshit again.
âSo what? I donât need weed. I can break our deal whenever I want. Besides, youâll only tutor me until the end of the month. Itâs not that deep.â Itâs only the beginning of October, so youâd be wasting more of your time with her for the next month, but of course she doesnât include that. God, youâre so pissed off, but what can you do? Not be able to smoke anymore? Get suspended again? You hate that she can just hang this over your head until you comply. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as you stare at her, one of her hands on her hip and her eyebrows raised as if youâre a dog she just told to heel that wonât listen. Your hands bunch into tight fists until your knuckles turn white. You really wish you had seen her with that bruise right about now.
âFine.â you spit, pushing your way out of the clearing and back towards the school. Great. Now it would take even longer to shake Regina off. You shoulder branches of leaves out of your way, your feet kicking at the dirt. You wished she could just be fucking normal and that she never started any of this in the first place.
âI better see you tomorrow, loser!â You hear Regina scream from somewhere behind you. God, you were gonna kill her. Or yourself. Whichever came first.
#mean girls#mean girls x reader#mean girls 2024#regina george#regina george x reader#regina george x you#regina george 2024#mean girls 2024 x reader
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27 Hawthorn Court | Simon "Ghost" Riley
Chapter 4 - The Apple Falls Far
Chapter Summary:
Ruth has doubts about her previous endeavours with the investigation. Though her worries are soon dispelled after a familiar face invigorates some much-needed passion for justice.
1.8K Words
Content warning: mentions of alcohol (?)
Ruth entered the bar at no later than seven in the evening.
There was a dainty whisper of a piano and saxophone harmonising in some form of light jazz - though she was never much of a connoisseur - shrouded by tangerine and fuschia flourescent lights which somehow possessed the ability to amplify the band's smooth tones, handily concealing any discolour Ruth felt about those case files by virtue of bewitchment.
It was a dark and damp evening, all things considered. The only thing that could have salvaged her mood was a heavy drink and some menial chatter with the bartender.
So, she approached the bar, and - after waiting for some time, clearly understanding the general predicament Ruth had gotten herself into - the bartender asked with concern;
"What can I get you?"
Ruth sighed.
There was nothing she could have done except sigh. It wasn't her place to inform anyone of her own broken hubris, let alone a bartender privy to the most detrimental of secrets. Dissolving marriages, petty crime, cheating scandals; it was his day-to-day, and it was in Ruth's best interest not to become part of his orderly convoy of discussion for the next patron.
"Give me your strongest," she muttered, bottom writhing on a stool too small for her.Â
It was such a subtly aggravating predicament.
After some time, as the bartender rooted beneath the bar top for a drink suitable for a grown woman, he swiftly placed it before her.
Ruth stared at it for a moment before saying;
"I said your strongest, George." She sighed. Because George was playing 'barkeep', and she was his sole customer, though he wasn't doing a very good job at it. "You can do better than orange juice."
And he likely could.Â
It was then, that, only a few moments later - after a rummage through the cabinet on his hands and knees (which was really a wicker basket full of snacks and cartons of juice) - the bartender produced apple juice, this time, placing it before Ruth with a proud smile
"That's more like it," she hissed with adoration, stabbing the straw through the flimsy sheath of aluminium foil, "did you have a good day at school?"
"Yeah." His eyes wavered around the bar, and Ruth watched them ardently as he spoke. "But Molly stole my brachiosaurus."
"Why did she steal your brachiosaurus?"Â
"I don't know." Muttered George, and he went straight back to wiping stains along the bar top with a heavy-machinery-themed rag where there were none.Â
So, there was silence. And Ruth let it hang.
Perhaps she was thinking of how her own day went, uneventful and uninspired as she crawled through the streets of Greater Manchester on roads too choked with traffic and suffocated by people too idiotic for their own aspiring ideals. It was a day of rampant teenagers stealing their parent's cars and running them dry around the estates, middle-aged alcoholics starting public brawls in the car parks of Asda and Tesco - a national issue - and faux calls from elderly ladies complaining about pieces of litter discarded in their front gardens.Â
"How did you feel when she stole your brachiosaurus?" Ruth was palming over the text on the rear of the carton, now, reading line by line. No added sugar, no added colouring, naturally sourced ingredients.
"I felt sad."
Sad. Huh.
Ruth knew a little bit about feeling sad. Dull, she would have called it, not wanting to give anybody the impression she was streaming tears in the shower on a dark night or onto her pillowcase before she fell asleep. Dull was a feeling she felt often, and in small waves, though sometimes big - but nothing more than a wailing rumble because that was a different feeling entirely - and it was one she knew rather well, too. It wasn't her favourite emotion, per se, but it might have been her most default one
It was intruiging, it truly was - George's predicament, that was - and she wished to further the conversation, probing
"Did ya feel anything else?"
George pondered for a moment, eyelashes fluttering against the sprig of curls in front of his forehead. He'd need a trim soon. "Maybe a little bit angry." He whispered, almost as if it was a secret he shouldn't tell.
"Angry. Because it was precious to you? Your brachiosaurus."
George thought, napping a carton of apple juice for himself, and - although it was almost seven-thirty and he wasn't allowed sugar before bedtime - Ruth thought he might have needed it and let it slide. "Yeah. And it was mine."
"It was yours." She affirmed, sucking the last dribbles from the bottom of the carton.Â
"Molly was being mean." He grumbled, flicking the curl of hair from his own forehead. He had the most beautiful set of locks, did George, and he was the spitting image of his father when he was younger, too. Bright, gleaming blue eyes and sweet bulbous cheeks that crinkled whenever he smiled.
George was the complete antithesis of Ruth. She had dark, rather frazzled-looking brown hair from too much styling in her younger years - much more monotone and less saturated than George's - and matching brown eyes, though if the lighting was generous, they almost shone with flecks of gold.
"Did'ya shout at her to give it back?" Ruth pondered, smiling a little as she spoke.
"Daddy said you shouldn't shout. He said that if you ask politely, they'll give it back."
Hm. Daddy. Chris, he was called. A bastard of a man.Â
"And did she?" Ruth brushed the hair from his eyes, ensuring it wouldn't irritate his lashes anymore.
George simply nodded, intent on drinking his before expelling his thoughts.
Yes, he explained. She did give it back because she was just being a little bit mean, but not loads mean. Otherwise, she wouldn't have given it back. If Molly was being loads mean - and George was really dragging out the vowels in 'loads' - he would have called on the teacher to intervene, of course, because that's how dynamic in a reception classroom prevailed.
"Why d'you think Molly stole your brachiosaurus?" She repeated, barely remembering she'd asked it earlier.
George gulped down the last droplets of juice, blinking blankly, before answering;
"Maybe she was lonely."
Maybe she was lonely.
What drivel.
There was a full glass of wine, now - to the rim, in fact - within Ruth's palm. The case files were on her lap, including her typed notes at her hip. Truth be told, there wasn't much to say about it. The affinity she felt to that little boy, plagued eyes boring through her skull, was crippling. The suspect's disposition, moreover, equally so, just as were the troubling words spoken by Price in the booth of the McDonald's in Sale.
"Lonely..." She sighed, finger travelling the circumference of the glass.
Perhaps she was lonely, too. Perhaps she needed a drink elsewhere, somewhere a little more crowded, a little more stuffed with people who could talk her ears off - whether they were a part of her conversation or not.
Yes, that was it.
She needed a drink.
And so, by nine, she had adorned her newest pair of black heels - ones with thick wedged soles and velvet trim - with a smart top with jeans. She wasn't one for princess dresses or overt makeup, nor did she wish to see any of her colleagues (or God-forbidding, any of her previous convicts) in an outfit that showed more than its provocation whenever she bent at the waist.
By ten, she was sitting in the pub with a vodka and coke in hand - though, it was more at her fingertips as they lazily drawled over the side of glass, smearing the condensation along - eyes transfixed on the bartender as he shifted from one side of the bar to the other with a smile that could only be described as 'over-compensating'.
It took another few minutes of silence before anyone approached her. She might have accepted the invitation to conversation, had she not recognised the stranger beside her who did, unfortunately, try.
"I didn't take ya for a vodka-and-coke drinkin' woman."
That voice. Deep, gruff, heavy.
John Price.
"I don't wanna talk." Spat Ruth.
Clean, cut, and straight to the point. The truth was, she hadn't come to the pub for chatter with a man like him. His words squirmed through her mind like the fall-out from a bad ear infection, and she despised another set of his words compounding the agony.
"Thought I'd thank ya." His lips smacked in the plenary of an awkward moment. "For bein' so professional and giving the case up, that is."
The case. The case files. They were still in her home. On her piano stand, where she'd also placed her unfinished glass of wine that was probably brewing with a layer of dust, now. And here was John Price, right beside her, shoulders occupying the air made for two. Maybe he knew. Maybe he knew she had taken the case files (or at least taken copies of them, at least), and he was there to confront her about it with every inch of his brooding six-foot stature.
"S'that it?" Questioned Ruth.Â
"Sure." He nodded, flexing his chest with a gruff groan. "Wanted a bit of conversation, that's all. One investigator to another."
"Sorry." She huffed, fingertips turning wrinkled from the condensation on the outside of her glass. She still hadn't touched it, not in five minutes. Not since John sat down beside her. "Guess m'not in the mood tonight."
"Fair enough." He sniffed, palm running along the wood grain of the bar top. "I'll leave you be, then."
The thought was swift to occur - alarmingly so, even - as John stepped from the bar stool, his head still firmly aligned with hers on the vertical. And the thought was, in no fewer words than some:
"What's gonna happen with the case?"Â
It made John come to a standstill. In the few seconds following, he paused, pondered, and pivoted himself back towards her. His shoes were already pointing in her direction, that, they both could see, but he had since adjusted the tilt of his shoulders so that his eyes could more easily glide over her face. Ruth looked back at him, pupils bloated, a worried knot niggling her brow.Â
Neither knew what the other was thinking.
And neither, for a rather long time, said anything.
Until John, being the bigger - albeit only - man, grumbled;
"It'll get sorted, Wyatt."
And, after that very sentence, Ruth could only think of one thing. It plagued her every thought, caused an even larger kink to dig into her brow, and sent another queue of thoughts to sit pending as the current wasted away behind her eye sockets. And the thought was, of all possible thoughts;
If she had stolen his brachiosaurus, it was a bloody massive one.
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#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#captain john price#captain jonathan price#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x you#ghost x reader#call of duty fanfiction#callofduty#simon riley#ghost fanfiction#cod#ghost cod
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âItâll Be The Last Timeâ - Matty Healy x F!Reader
Part 1:
Masterlist: .°Ë⧠Word Count: 1575 Warnings: honestly don't really know what to put? smoking i guess? arguing? idk
Series Summary: âYouâve known Matty since you were 14 and the boy has never failed to get on your last nerve, but over the years you two end up having unexplainable moments where you canât help but feel you two are connected in a way youâll never feel with anyone else, until one night he tells you something that may change how you view the boy foreverâŚâ
Late Summer 2010:
"I'm in love with you."
You want to scream at him. You want to hit him, you'd use being scared as your excuse for not doing so, but you know that's not true, he'd never do anything to hurt you.
At least not physically.
"Don't." Is the only word that your mouth can make out.
"June Bug please..." It's been months since he'd last called you that, months since he's last called you anything at all.
2003-2005:
You first met Matty at your best friends 14th birthday party, he had tagged along with Ross who the birthday girl had been going out with for the last few months, well if you count awkward glances in school halls and AOL chat messages as going out, but they were only in year 9 cut them some slack.
Kelsey has been your best mate since you were 4, met in daycare and haven't left each others side since, people often joked that you two were joined at the hip. Ross greets her with a hug and not even blackout curtains could hide the bright red blush that took over your friend's whole face, afterwards Matty steps forward and introduces himself to you both, even at 14 he exuded a cocky self-confidence that put you off immediately. To say you and Matty didn't get along would be an understatement, being Kelsey's best friend had gotten you roped into Ross's friend group against your own will. You adored Ross obviously, grateful for the way he treated your friend so well, Adam was always quiet but kind and unbelievably hilarious at times, you'd always fancied George a little bit, thought he was quite fit and was nothing short of amazing with you... Matty on the other hand was a whole 'nother story.
Matty was always getting on your nerves, you served one purpose to him, to be the main target of his relentless teasing and rude comments. From ages 14-16 you were convinced Matty genuinely hated you, and you hated him right back. It wasn't until George asked you to a school dance in year 11 that you started to see a different side to Matty. The whole week leading up to the dance Matty had been unusually reserved with his snide comments, silence filled the gaps after you spoke when you know he'd usually tease you. At first you'd thought George might have finally told him to lay off a little, which seemed like it'd be a nice sentiment, but you found yourself oddly missing the only version of Matty that you'd ever known.
You knew Matty and you had always been eerily similar in certain ways, you both found solace in song writing and had a penchant for smoking.
The day of the dance had come and all of the boys were waiting downstairs in Kelsey's living room whilst she and you finished getting ready in her room, you thought your best friend couldn't look more beautiful. She wore a long red satin dress and had her hair pulled into a perfectly messy side braid, she had opted to go greet the boys whilst you finished up. You checked yourself in the mirror after she left, Kelsey had done your hair in big loose curls and you'd picked out a strapless iridescent green dress, you touched up your lipstick one last time before grabbing your clutch and exiting her room. As you descended down the stairs both George and Matty stopped their conversation and watched you in silence, you reached the ground floor and stopped right before George, looking up at him shyly.
"You look stunning." Your date was the first to speak up, you smile as you feel your cheeks flush.
"You look like a June Bug." Matty scoffs eyeing you up and down, you shoot him a glare and Adam smacks him up the backside of his head.
You all make your way out to Matty's van, George's hand never left your waist and you swear you could physically feel the heat on you skin from Matty's stare. The dance was as good as a school dance could be, you danced with George for the first while before excusing yourself for a moment, you'd never really liked to be in the middle of large crowds and you could feel the need for a smoke growing since you'd entered the hall. You walk out to your usual smoke spot only to find someone else occupying the space, you sigh.
"Fuck me." You say to yourself.
"Don't sound too excited to see me June Bug." Matty quips sarcastically, a fag hanging from his lips.
You lean against the brick wall beside him, pulling out your own smokes from the small clutch you'd brought with you and lighting one up before you spoke again.
"Weirdly nice to see you're back to your usual asshole demeanor." You laugh, taking another drag.
"What you on about?" He asks, turning to look at you.
"Nothing really, you've just been uncomfortably quiet around me this past week." You say not turning to him quite yet as you bring the fag back up to your lips.
"Don't know what you're talking about." He turns away from you and it's now that you look at him.
"Thought George might have told you off about it." You laugh again, a breeze blows past as he looks at you again through the smoke in your eyes.
"And you think George cares enough about you to do that?" It's his turn to laugh. "Thinks he'll get a good shag out of you that's for sure though."
His eyes meet yours and he can practically see the gears turning in your head as you process his comment.
"You don't know shit Matthew." You know how much he hates the use of his full name so you make sure to emphasize it.
"Actually I know everything dear, he's my best mate so if we're having a battle of who knows George's intentions best," He pauses, taking another drag. "I win." He finishes with a smirk.
"Jesus Christ! You've always got to be the biggest wanker don't you?" You roll your eyes at him. "Lord forbid a boy actually like me right?"
"Just telling you the truth love." He leans in close to you as he speaks, a twinkle of something you can't quite place in his eyes, his breath smells like a mixture of smoke and Apple Sourz.
"Fuck you, like genuinely go fuck yourself." You begin to walk away but he grabs your wrist to stop you.
"Hey! I'm not the one you should be saying that to right now, I'm just looking out for you here." Matty tries to defend himself.
"Looking out for me? Shitting on your best mate? You really expect me to believe that bullshit after the way you've treated me these past 2 years?!" You're proper mad now.
"I am always looking out for you!" He yells back.
You laugh in his face. "Name one fucking time you've had my best interest in mind Matthew, please enlighten me!"
His stare is cold and unnerving. "Last year at Josh's Halloween party I found you pasted out in the spare room with Will Evans attempting to undress you." He pauses to take a breath, the air thick with tension after he spoke. "Ripped him off of you and gave him a mean right hook without a second thought. Stayed by your side until I had sobered up enough to drive you and Kels back to her place."
You barely remember anything from that night past doing shots with Ross and waking up in Kelsey's bed with a killer migraine, Matty must have carried you all the way in and up the stairs.
"What?" You manage to choke out the one word.
"God you're so daft, just cause I'm an ass doesn't mean I don't care." You still at his words. "I've always cared about you June Bug." A small smirk crosses his lips.
"Oh god that's going to stick isn't it?" You let out a small laugh, still dwelling on the story he'd just told you.
Your eyes meet his again, both your smokes dropped and forgotten about on the ground.
"I thought you hated me." You confess quietly.
You feel his hand on your cheek before he speaks again. "I could never hate you y/n."
Before you can respond his lips are on yours... you should push him off, you should pull away and head back to George who you'd left waiting for you inside, George who is Matty's best mate. But there's something in the kiss that leaves you unable to think clearly, your hands reach for his neck as he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips as you take a quick breath. You can't help but tug on the curls at the base of his neck, the slight moan he lets out in response is what finally snaps you out of your daze and back to reality. You pull away from him, your eyes wide staring at the boy before you, you blink a few times as the shock finally settles in. You pull away fully and begin to quickly walk away from him without another word, back into the dance... back to George.
"Y/N!" You hear him shout behind you, but you just keep walking with one thought raving through your mind.
Matty Healy just kissed you.
Part 2
a/n: well here's the first part of this story, i haven't put out a fully worded fanfic in years, i've def written them just haven't shared them with the public haha! well hope you enjoyed and didn't think this was too shit! loves xx
#matty healy#the 1975#matty healy fanfic#matty healy fanfiction#matty#healy#matty healy x reader#matty healy x y/n#the 1975 fanfic#the 1975 fanfiction#george daniel x reader#kinda?#not really tho#george daniel#adam hann#ross macdonald#dbd matty fics#dbd itâll be the last time
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January OTP Prompts
Instead of scrambling at night to try and finish my prompt for the day, I decide to attempt it first thing in the morning. I hope this one came out a bit better! I was smiling to myself while working on it. Thank you so much again to everyone who has been so lovely and supportive of this little adventure! I can't believe we're two weeks in, and almost halfway through it and I haven't missed a day or given up yet đ
14. Old bookstore on a cold day
The warm and comforting, yet musty smell of dust and old paper tickled his cold nose as he looked through the shelves. Books, their covers worn, some with age and some with love, their pages yellowing, were piled higher than he was tall, an impressive feat when considering his six foot four frame. The stacks covered every available surface, titles spilling out of the displays with no discernible order. He felt overwhelmed, unsure of where to begin as he spun in a small circle, looking for any titles or authors he recognized. He knew he wasnât the biggest reader, but he listened when Matty spoke with bright eyes and sweeping hand gestures as he grew more and more excited about whatever book he had most recently picked up.Â
George gritted his teeth and continued deeper into the shop, wrapping his arms around himself against the chill he couldnât seem to shake, even as he ventured deeper amongst the stacks. The exposed yellow bulbs hanging from the ceiling reminding George of the warm tones used in movies to depict a summer day, as if it wasnât snowing outside, his boots having left wet footprints on the mat as he stomped his feet, trying to dislodge the icey powder lest he track it inside with him.Â
He could see why Matty liked the little old used bookstore, tucked away on a side street that George would never have even noticed if Matty hadnât mentioned it before.Â
âCan I help you find something this evening?â a voice asked and George spun around in surprise, coming face to face with an older gentleman, his gray hair spilling down past his rounded shoulders as he leaned heavily on his cane. Rationally, he knew he couldnât have been alone in the shop, there had to have been someone working, but the clerkâs sudden appearance was still a shock. He swallowed hard.Â
âIâm em, looking for a gift,â he said, âfor a friend,â he winced, friend didnât seem like a strong enough, like a powerful enough word to describe what Matty was to him. He was Georgeâs best friend, but he was more than that. He was his soulmate, his other half, his partner, even if Matty might not fully understand the depth of Georgeâs feelings yet, even if George didnât fully understand them himself.Â
âDark curly hair, about yea tall, big glasses?â asked the man with a smile describing Matty perfectly. George flushed, and nodded the man grinning back with a sparkle in his eye. George wondered how he knew that.Â
âI have the perfect thing,â he said, disappearing behind a stack of books and reappearing a moment later with a worn hardcover.Â
He handed it to George who flipped through the pages, the dust jacket was missing but the title and author were embossed onto the side. On the Road by Jack Kerouac.
âItâs a first edition,â said the man, âit will make a phenomenal gift for your friend, it will really show him how much you care.âÂ
âHow much is it?â George asked carefully, dread pooling in his stomach at the realization the book, while worn, if it was a first edition was most likely out of his meager budget.Â
âItâs on the house,â said the man smiling, âjust make sure that lad knows heâs loved.âÂ
George swallowed hard, not sure what to say as he ran his fingers over a smudged inscription on the first page.
âAre you sure?â He asked carefully and the man nodded.Â
âHeâs supposed to have that book.â he said sagely and George nodded, closing the book with the inscription still burnt into his retinas.
1 June, The 1975.
The 1975.Â
Day: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13
#allylikethecat#January OTP Prompts#Prompt Fills#Prompt Fill#Keep it Kind#Matty fic#gatty#i hope this is okay since fictional!Matty isn't physically in it#but i saw the prompt and was like THE BOOK#and then i decided it was important for fictional!george to give it to him#also the bookshop man is magic ive decided#and so is the entire bookshop lol#anyway thank you again for reading and being so lovely#you are also welcome to continue ignoring these
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Lucky Patrick Curtis (Teen: 1975-1981)
DOB: November 11th 1962 Age: 62 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Luck, Luke S/O: Nicole Alderman Kids: Sarah, Vincent, and Xavier Best Friend(s): Dennis Morrison and John Delve Aesthetic: Lucky was a pretty wild child. He had his fatherâs energy and optimism that Sarah loved so. His parents were extremely young when he was born, 14 years old, and it was difficult to grow up along side them. Lucky would tag along with his mama when she went to school (something she dreaded) and eventually to work once she graduated. Sodapop didnât want her to drop out like he had, wanted to see her make something of herself. Sarah Jane did not want to stay, stating that if he was dropping out to support the family, so could she. She didnât drop out. Lucky was the only child for 4 years and when his little sister Magnolia was born, it was safe to say he was in love. He followed her and their mother around daily, wanted to help in anyway he could. Lucky was a good, kind hearted boy all away around. When he was in high school, he became the popular guy. Luck was always going to parties and getting wasted on the weekend with the boys. It stressed his mother out to no degree, but he always knew how to charm his way out of trouble. When he was 16 he got his now wife pregnant. His parents chewed him out, expecting him to learn from their âmistakeâ. When his little girl, Sarah, was born he turned his life around. He was beginning to get good grades, got back into the graces with his teachers and coaches. He became a big New York lawyer later on, total 80s wall street yuppie.
Magnolia Anne Curtis (Teen: 1979-1985)
DOB: February 19th 1966 Age: 58 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Mag, Maggie S/O: Alec Vaughn Kids: Anneliese and George Best Friend(s): Carrie Workington, Louisa May, and Sofia Palome Aesthetic: Magnolia was always seen as super mature for her age. It may be due to her young parents, or her fatherâs enlistment, or her older brotherâs advice instilled. No one knows where it came from, definitely not her parents. She was very smart and even skipped a couple grades. It was her fatherâs job to help with homework while her mother cooked dinner. A lot of nights crying at the table, not from her though. Magnolia used to distance herself from her family. She was very independent and never wanted help from her parents. It didnât help that she resented her parents from being so young. The kids in her grade would whisper about her, that she was weird, a shotgun baby. She despised her parents. Sarah Jane constantly tried to talk to her baby about this, but it was difficult to get anything out of Maggie. Stubborn as a nail she was. Soda began taking his girl out for daddy daughter dinners, which consisted of strawberry ice cream and McDonald's burgers. His wife wasnât even upset of these outings, praying that it would work. Magnolia eventually opened up on one of those daddy daughter dates. Maggie cried, Soda cried, and even Sarah did when she got the re-telling at bedtime. It worked though, and Maggie grew closer to her parents and siblings. She even still goes out with her daddy for dinners every Thursday.
Forrest David Curtis (Teen: 1982-1988)
DOB: February 9th 1969 Age: 55 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Woody S/O: Natalie Berryman Kids: Oliver and Aurora Best Friend(s): Isaac Brooks Aesthetic: Forrest was a very easy baby. He rarely cried and was easily as good if his older brother was there in the room with him. He was obsessed with Lucky, thought he hung the moon. When he was in high school, he became friends with Isaac Brooks, and became involved in some not good things. He started smoking with him after school and whenever he could. His father once caught him and asked for a hit, but told him that he wouldnât tell his mother. Woody thought that his dad would lose his mind over the recreational drug use, being a veteran and all that, but no. Sodapop told him that he used to smoke this stuff in the war, to ârelaxâ. It became a regular thing for the two. Going out every couple of nights to smoke on the porch or in a random parking lot (do not smoke and drive!) and simply just talk about everything and anything. This was their bonding experience. He won two tickets to a pearl jam concert when he was seventeen and the first person he asked was his dad. They went and came back reeking of the drug and Sarah Jane had grounded them both, how she grounded her own husband, no one knows. Woody and Sodapop were each others best friends.
Romeo Preston Curtis (Teen: 1985-1991)
DOB: December 31st 1972 Age: 52 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Ro, Rome, Romey S/O: Rachel Carter Kids: Cassandra and Dylan Best Friend(s): Joseph Matthews and Aaron Curtis Aesthetic: Romeo was extremely quiet. He barely spoke, in fact didnât speak one word until he was two years old. His first word was âno luxâ when his older brother, Lucky, was tickling him to no ends. Romey was as shy as they come, Soda found him so hard to understand his young son, being certainly eccentric and outgoing himself. He loved his birthday, he got extra presents (as much as his parents could afford) and he got to be cocky to his siblings. He was his motherâs favourite, adoring her quiet Christmas present. He reminded her so much if Sodapop, not exactly with his personality, but his attitude and looks. He was very handsome and very polite and respectful to others, something Sarah Jane admired in both her boys. One Thanksgiving, Sodaâs family came over and as the women were cooking dinner and gossiping, the boys were playing tackle football in the yard. Rome watched from the kitchen window with his mother until his Aunt Katherine encouraged him to join the brotherâs outside. Romeo learned how to play football with his dads and uncles and quickly became involved with the sport on school teams. His family went to every game until he decided to change over to lacrosse instead. He excelled at lacrosse much more than he ever did football. He was very popular with the girls, but he didnât notice it. He was overall a very polite and athletic kid.
Charity Dove Curtis (Teen: 1987-1993)
DOB: July 7th 1974 Age: 50 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Char, Love, Lovie S/O: Damien Sinclair Kids: Ashley, Eric, and Loren Best Friend(s): James Winston Aesthetic: Charity was the IT girl in school. She was very proud of who she was the minute she was born. It didnât help her ego that her daddy worshipped the ground she walked on, gave her everything imaginable. She was a cheerful and loving young girl, wearing the best dresses her mother could make with old scrap fabric. Charity Curtis was the best dressed girl in all of McAlester and everyone knew it. She loved performing in local beauty contests and was a debutante when she was 15. Her southern accent increased her charm, many people admiring this toddler with the heaviest accent in all off the south. Sometimes she talked too fast and it was hard to understand what exactly she was saying, all her words mumbled together. Her special talent was and will always be her cheerleading. She was captain of her cheerleading squad in high school (just like Sarah Jane mind you) and was her teamâs fly girl. She later went on to win many more championships and beauty competitions, earning her the spot of Miss Southern, Miss U.S.A, AND Miss Universe respectively. Her parents couldnât be more proud of their gorgeous sweet daughter. When she met Damien, it was love at first sight. Her daddy was sceptical of him, but when was he not? He just wanted to protect his little girl from the harm of the outside world, and that included boys. The two actually grew to like each other, but Soda would never admit to that.
Prayer Thomas Curtis (Teen: 1990-1996)
DOB: May 18th 1977 Age: 47 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Pray, PT S/O: Sophie Anderson Kids: Ryan, Ethan, and Brady Best Friend(s): Brandon Winston and Shawn Curtis Aesthetic: Prayer was a very helpful kid. He always offered to help his mother win any housework that needed to be done. Prayer was his parents go to babysitter per his own request. He love his little siblings and cousins and decided that if his parents or aunt needs a little help, why couldnât he? Prayer would also walk his dadâs lunch to the garage on his way to school if his father forgot to pick it up before leaving for work. Sometimes Sodapop would let his son stay a little longer to talk to customers and encourage him to actually engage with the work itself. Prayer loved PB&Jâs, he would eat it for every meal every day if his mother would allow him. When he was a teenager his mom told him that he was old enough to do his own chores like his older siblings and one of his chores was packing his own lunches. Every lunch was a PB&J. Every. Single. One. Maybe a side of lays and a soda. He ate terribly growing up but still stayed very fit, probably from all the running around he did, clearly from all the sugar that was in his sandwiches each day.
Cola Robert Curtis (Teen: 1993-1999)
DOB: January 23rd 1980 Age: 44 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Cole, Coley S/O: Amelia Boone Kids: Benson, Louis, and Elijah Best Friend(s): Kyle Randle Aesthetic: Cola hated his name. He knew that his family was known for their ridiculous names, but he thought he had the absolute worst of them all. Cola. How stupid is that he thought. He refused to be called Cola outside of his house (or even in it for that matter) only Cole was allowed. Cole was embarrassed by his name, his family, and his money. They werenât exactly poor, but they werenât rich by any means. He was very preppy and popular in high school, being on the football team and being an honourâs roll student throughout his academic career. Cole tried his damn best to separate himself from the rest of his family. His mother understood where he was coming from to an extent, in a way that his optimistic father could never. She knew how he could feel embarrassed by their finances and names. She knew she named her children uncommon and unique names, it was done on purpose, for her husbandâs sake. She knew that when her and Soda got married, they were so in love she couldnât tell that they were poor. Not until she ran into some old soc friends and they buried her alive with her new status in the world. Cole never truly recovered from the embarrassment and bullying he went through in his childhood, still tried to block out his past and family to the rest of the world.
Angel Love Curtis (Teen: 1993-1999)
DOB: January 23rd 1980 Age: 44 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Ange, Angie, Lovie S/O: Paul Mercante Kids: Daniela, Isabel, Ellie, and Rosalie Best Friend(s): Francesca Bough Aesthetic: Angel was a beautiful girl and she knew it. Much like her older sister, Charity, she was told often times told how gorgeous she truly was. Angie started modelling in 1992 when she was 12 years old. By the time she was 17 years old, she was booking jobs with Tommy Hilfiger, Guess, and Michael Kors. She had met Paul Mercante in kindergarten and he was her first boyfriend if you will. She started having play dates with him and best believe Soda and Steve had a field day trying to figure out this 5 year old boy. He took her to their first school dance in middle school and he ended up dancing with Rachel Burnes and Angel had come home sobbing. Her twin brother, Cole, was ready to punch a kid out. It was actually Sodapop who had been the one to talk the boy down while his wife was upstairs with his other daughters calming his youngest daughter. They got back together in 11th grade and ended up getting married when she was 22 years old. Angel, at her best, was modelling for Givenchy, Dior, Dolce & Gabbana, and was even the spokesperson for Chanel. She got so famous and so excited that she had bought her parents a house when she was 25 years old.
Valentine Waylon Curtis (Teen: 1996-2002)
DOB: February 14th 1983 Age: 41 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Val, Valey S/O: Aimee Bowen Kids: Camren, Aidan, Alyssa, and Hailee Best Friend(s): Ethan Cade and Matthew Winston Aesthetic: Valentine , being the second youngest, was very funny. He learned that he was never going to be as smart as Cola or Lucky and that he was never going to be as handsome as Prayer or Romeo. He decided to be the funny one. He knew how to make people laugh, had an interesting way of making conversation and storytelling. He could talk for hours and hours on end. He was always very cheerful this one. Val hated seeing anyone upset, it hurt him deep down to find a person crying especially his own family. Valentine was very good with his younger brother Blessing. Blessing was a whey baby, crying every 5 minutes, and it bothered his mama, which in turn bothered him. Val would run to his room, pick out the most ridiculous outfit and prance around in front of his baby brother's playpen until he would giggle. Growing up, he was always compared to his Uncle Two, people reminding him that he was funny and handsome, a new word used to describe him. As he entered middle school, he noticed that he might actually be attractive. Val didn't realise his beauty. He believed that he was the most homely looking out of all his brothers, but his mama always noted his relationship to his father, THE Sodapop Curtis. Girls then started to flock to him, but because of his inner insecurities, he never knew how to talk to them. He could make all the jokes he wanted, make a fool of himself, they would eventually turn the other way because they thought him weird. Val turned to his father for advice, which didn't work due to the massive age gap. There was one last option if Valentine would ever want a wife in the futureâŚPrayer Curtis himself. He was embarrassed to ask for help, but Prayer was actually pretty chill about it. After the advice he received from his older brother, he started seeing Aimee Bowen and the rest was history.
Blessing River Curtis (Teen: 1998-2004)
DOB: August 20th 1985 Age: 39 years old Hometown: McAlester, Oklahoma Nicknames: Bless, B, Riv S/O: Casey Moss Kids: Connor and Bailey Best Friend(s): Erick Bishop, Kevin Parrish, and Clayton Ibarra Aesthetic: Blessing was exactly what his name says. His parents were told, due to their age, that they couldn't have children anymore. The two were okay with this, thinking they were done 4 children ago anyway. Sarah Jane, the woman she is, believed that God has a plan for everyone, and that all of her children are miracles in their own right. When she fell pregnant for the 9th time in 1984, she knew this was a sign from God. It was a tough and terrible pregnancy for the whole family involved. In fact, Katherine Curtis ended up making her way down to McAlester to help her younger sister-in-law through the journey of it all. When her son was born, she had already had his named picked out from the beginning, whether he be a boy or a girl. Blessing was her baby's name. This name, he hated. When he was in grade school, his name was brought up in many bullies conversations and teasings. Blessing was a girl's name and a weird one at that. Blessing became very isolated with everyone. He started going by River because River Phoenix made it cool somewhat. As he got older he was just used to being called Riv or River. That was until Casey Moss came up to him in history class and said "Blessing Curtis, right?". He almost had a heart attack. This when he got comfortable being referred to as Blessing. Yes, people still made fun of him, but it didn't matter anymore. Casey Moss knew his name. Sarah was ecstatic when she met the girl that made her come out of his shell. She was planning their wedding before the two even admitted their love for each other. Blessing was very athletic, finding himself juggling Football, Baseball, AND lacrosse all at once one school year. He got scouted in 2002, and he got a full ride scholarship to Colombia University on Football.
#the outsiders#the outsiders next generation introductions#the outsiders introductions#the outsiders next gen#the outsiders oc#lucky curtis#magnolia curtis#forrest curtis#romeo curtis#charity curtis#prayer curtis#cola curtis#angel curtis#valentine curtis#blessing curtis#sodapop curtis#sodapop curtis x oc#sarah jane curtis
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Chapter One: Unworthy
Rating: T
Relationships: Chrissy Cunningham/Eddie Munson
Summary: College Freshman Chrissy Cunninghamâs best friend, Eddie, is a rockstar. So what if sheâs in love with him, and heâs writing gorgeous metal love songs for some cool chick in LA? Sheâll still be his number one fan, supporting from the sidelines, even if that means breaking her own heart.
On the night before the bandâs first show opening for Metallicaâat which Chrissy plans to surprise themâher roommate shows her an interview in the latest issue of Rolling Stone that changes everything.
Hello lovely readers! This is my first foray into Hellcheer, although if you are an author you may have seen me lurking in your comments section. I also kind of jump around fandoms depending on where my muse takes me, so you may have seen me somewhere else before. Iâve been obsessed with Hellcheer since I watched the first episode of Season 4 last year, and had the idea for this last summer. Unfortunately, Iâm the worldâs slowest writer. Like George R.R. Martin levels of slow. It also doesnât help that Iâm a bit of a perfectionist. Iâm trying to let go of my perfectionism and just be happy to get my writing out in the world. This is a short little story, only two chapters. The next part is already written so it should be posted by next week. Iâd just like to take a moment now to thank my beta, ry, for looking over this for me. Ry is super awesome and you can find her at ryleighjosephine on AO3 or at @dustinswill on Tumblr. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it! Thanks for reading. :)
read on AO3
Chrissy tapped her foot to the beat of âUptown Girlâ as she grabbed a clean index card from the perfect stack at the edge of her desk. Dancing in her chair, she turned up the volume on her Walkman as the song reached the chorus. Softly humming, Chrissy wrote out âmitochondriaâ in big, blocky letters with her favorite rollerball pen. She bobbed her head as she waited for the ink to dry, checking Professor Millerâs study sheet to make sure she remembered the correct definition. Once she finished her list of vocab terms, she could start working on her poster for the concert tomorrow.
âAs long as anyone with hot blood can,â Chrissy belted out without a care for any of the other girls still left on her floor on a Friday night. Even if her roommate, Stacey, was home, she wouldnât care anyway. âAnd now sheâs looking for a downtown man. Thatâs what I am!â
Although she would tease Chrissy for listening to Billy Joel.
When the pink ink had dried, she flipped the card over. As she wrote down the function of the mitochondria, she heard Professor Miller in her head, repeating, âThe mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.â
Placing the finished flashcard on her stack, she snatched another blank card as Billy Joelâs vocals faded into the searing electric guitar of Corroded Coffinâs new single. Her heart skipped a beat as Eddieâs fingers danced across the strings. She stilled, placing her pen on the table before she broke it.
âStarlit eyes, cherry gloss lips. You are perfect,â Eddie sang on the track, voice raspy. âAnd I am unworthy of you.â Chrissy clenched her fists. It was Eddieâs only line in the song before Jeff took over lead vocals. Chrissy could listen to him sing for hours, though.
She fiddled with the cassette case, running her fingers over the label âChrissyâs Mixâ in Eddieâs chicken scratch as she glanced at the photo of them together at prom last year tacked to her bulletin board. Arms circling her waist, Eddie stared down at her. The pink rose corsage on her wrist matched his boutonniere, and his tie matched her dressâEddie insisted, even if it wasnât an actual date.
When he sat down at their booth in the diner to give it to her one day while he was visiting Hawkins before she left for college, his leg had bounced up and down like he had drunk too much coffee. He dropped the tape in between them, the liner notes facing up.
âWhatâs this?â Chrissy asked, pulling it to her side of the table.
âItâs a mixtape,â Eddie said.
âI know that,â Chrissy smirked. âBut whatâs it for?â
Eddie wiped his hand on his leg. âItâs got some of our new songs on it. The demos, at least.â
âNo way!â She exclaimed, picking it off the table to scan the notes. Three of the songs listed Corroded Coffin as the artist.
âI want you to tell me what you think of them. No holding back.â
âOf course.â Chrissy winked. âI wouldnât dare think of lying to you. Whatâs the rest?â
âJust a bunch of your favorite songs. And mine. I thought they all kind of fit together.â Eddie scratched the back of his neck and flashed her a shy smile.
âCool.â Grinning, Chrissy pulled her Walkman from her backpack.
âDonât listen to it now!â Eddie nearly leaped across the table. âWait until Iâm gone.â
âAlright,â Chrissy smirked. âIâll wait.â
At home that night, Chrissy shoved the tape into her Walkman and eagerly awaited the first new song. She grinned from ear to ear as the first base notes ripped through her, followed by Eddieâs dazzling guitar work.
And then that line.
âYou are perfect, and I am unworthy of you.â
Her stomach dropped. A love song. Corroded Coffin had never released a love song before. Tightness bloomed across her chest as her stomach twisted itself in knots. She twisted her ring (Eddieâs favorite that heâd given to her right after graduation) and bit her lip as the song continued. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes when she listened to the other new songsâalso love songs.
âDid you write all of these songs, Eddie?â she quavered, her voice small, on their scheduled weekly call.
âYeah,â he answered. The phone crackled. Neither of them spoke for a moment.
His voice hitched before he continued, âWhat did you think of them?â
She swallowed back her tears, her rage at the subject of the songs, and replied, âTheyâre beautiful, Eddie.â
The cassette case clattered to the desk, breaking her from her reverie.
A tear rolled down her cheek as the song crested into the melancholy guitar solo. She wiped it away. With one final crescendo, the chorus began for the last time.
Chrissy picked up her pen again. If she ever found the girl who made Eddie feel soâ
The door to her dorm room banged open.
âHey, Chrissy,â her roommate Stacey barged in, letting the door slam shut behind her. She flopped on the bed across from Chrissy with a sigh, her long black braids fanning beneath her like a halo.
Chrissy paused her Walkman as âTake a Chance on Meâ started and removed her headphones. âHow was your date?â
âAnother dud, as usual,â Stacey groaned. âI donât know what it is about me that seems to attract the worst types of men. â She rolled onto her stomach and rummaged through her purse. âHe didnât even have the manners to give me a decent good night kiss. Just slobbered all over me.â Shivering, she took out her lipstick for the night, a bright berry red, and placed it back on the shelf next to her desk. âSuch is my lot in life.â She looked over at Chrissy. âWhat about you, Cunningham? Are you still hung up on that guy who calls you every week and wrote multiple songs for another woman that he put on your mixtape?â
A flush crept over Chrissyâs face. âHe just wanted my honest opinion.â
âGirl, if that man canât see that you are head over heels for him, heâs as blind as a bat.â Stacey pulled some wadded-up tissues from her purse and tossed them in the garbage. She grabbed a fresh one from the box on her nightstand and wiped her lipstick off, smearing it all over her dark skin.
âItâs not like that,â Chrissy protested, driving her pen perhaps a little too hard into the index card as she wrote the following definition. âWeâre just friends.â Stacey folded the tissue, removed the rest of the lipstick from her face and dropped it in the trash.
âKeep telling yourself that,â Stacey quipped, pulling the new issue of Rolling Stone from her bag. âI canât believe youâre studying on a Friday night.â
âI have to study today,â Chrissy explained as she tossed the card to the side. âWeâre going to the Metallica concert tomorrow. Iâve got cheer practice Sunday afternoon, and my club meets Sunday nights.â
Chrissy scribbled out another word from her vocab list on a fresh card.
âRight,â Stacey rolled onto her stomach and unfolded the magazine. âI forgot you have your nerd club.â
Chrissy rolled her eyes. âI still think you would like it. You could pretend to be one of those barbarians from those Conan movies youâre always going on about.â
âSpeaking of the concert tomorrow,â Stacey flipped the page of the magazine, âone of the opening bands has an interview in Rolling Stone.â
âThatâs cool,â Chrissy remarked without much thought. She froze, pen hovering above the desk, as she recalled that Eddie had mentioned that the band had done an interview with a big magazine during their Thursday phone call. She shook her head. It probably was the other openerâthey were much more famous than Corroded Coffin. âLet me know if thereâs anything interesting.â
âWill do,â Stacey nodded and turned her attention to the glossy pages on the bed in front of her. Comfortable silence blanketed the room, the only sound the scritch of pen on paper and the flipping of magazine pages until one of their noisy neighbors arrived back home. The slamming door next door and ensuing clatter, as the girl stumbled through the room, jolted Chrissy from her work. She shook her head and grabbed another index card from the pile.
âThatâs so sweet!â Stacey cooed, stroking the magazine page.
âWhatâs sweet?â Chrissy asked without missing a beat.
âThe guitarist from that band I mentioned earlier,â Stacey popped her bubblegum. âHe writes their songs, and get thisâtheyâre all about the same girl.â
âHmm,â Chrissy sneered, driving the pen into the index card with a little more force than was necessary. âIâm sure she loves having such a wonderful boyfriend who writes her amazing love songs.â
âTheyâre not together,â Stacey corrects her, flipping the page.
Chrissy stills. âWhat do you mean theyâre not together?â
âTheyâre apparently just friends even though heâs been in love with her since middle school. They performed in a talent show together, and heâs been stuck on her ever since.â
Her heart leaped into her throat.
âShe gets all of their demo recordings before the public,â Stacey continued, eyes widening as she took in the photograph on the opposite page, âso she just must want to stay friends because if I was her and I had a friend that looked like that who wrote me beautiful love songs, Iâd climb him like a tree and maybeââ
Stacey rambled on, but Chrissy couldnât hear her over the hammering of her own heart, beating against her ribs like a wild bird against the bars of a cage.
ââyou know, I never pictured rock stars being into cheerleaders,â
Time stops.
Chrissyâs pen clattered to the floor as she whipped around.
ââbut what do I know. I mean, youâre a cheerleader, and you like metal,â Stacey blathered.
âStacey,â Chrissy stammered, âwhich band are you talking about?â
âWhat?â Stacey finally noticed her. âCorroded Coffin, why?â
âCan I see that article?â Chrissy choked, holding back the deluge of tears.
âSure,â Stacey quirked a brow and handed the magazine over.
Chrissy flipped the magazine open to find Eddie Munson staring up at her from the glossy page flanked by Gareth and the rest of the band. Gasping, she dropped the magazine onto her desk.
âI am an idiot,â she murmured, and a tear slipped out before she could stop it. It rolled down her cheek and dropped onto the magazine.
âHey,â Stacey bolted upright. âWhy are you crying?â
âBecause Iâm so happy,â Chrissy hiccuped as the waterfall sheâd held back for months came crashing down.
Stacey furrowed her brows until she alighted on the graduation and prom photos tacked to Chrissyâs bulletin board. She jumped to her feet, her gaze darting back and forth between the photos and the magazine spread.
âOh my god!â Stacey exclaimed. âYouâre her. Youâre the girl from the article.â
âYep,â Chrissy nodded, wiping her tears with a tissue.
âWhich means that the Eddie that calls you every week is a literal rock star whoâs been in love with you for years?â
âApparently,â Chrissy shrugged. She slumped over the desk. âI should have just asked him out months ago.â
âWow,â Stacey collapsed back on her bed. âThat is a lot to process. How in the world did I not put it together sooner? You told me he was in a band. And you made sure we were going to this show so I could meet him.â
âI wanted to surprise him on opening night of his first big tourâŚâ Chrissy said.
âI just thought your Eddie must be a colossal CC fan.â Stacey mused. âTo think youâve know them this whole time⌠Wait a minute.â She bolted upright. âHow did you not know all those songs were about you?â
Chrissy shrugged. âI convinced myself he met some cool metal chick in LA.â She picked at the hem of her shirt. âI was going to ask who she was at the show tomorrow.â
âThis is too funny,â Stacey laughed.
âIâm glad you find my emotional turmoil amusing.â
âWhat are you going to do when you see him?â Stacey asked.
Chrissy turned to the blank poster and art supplies waiting on her bed and grinned.
âIâm going to get my man.â
#rolling stone 513#hellcheer fic#eddissy#eddie x chrissy#chrissy x eddie#chrissy cunningham#eddie munson#college student chrisssy#rock star eddie#friends to lovers#they're idiots your honor#love confessions#chapter one
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These aren't his best moments in his life (Surfer Dream pt 4)
I finished writing it :D
Here comes the 3rd incident
TW: Vore mention (doesn't happen), death mention (doesn't happen), blood and blood mention, serious injury
Little reminder (ages): George -> 24, Sapnap -> 21, Quackity -> 20 almost 21, Karl -> 20 and Dream -> 16 almost 17
It's been a few weeks since Dream's last incident with George. Karl had told him not to go to the beach, at least for a while so that he could recover a bit. In a few days, he was beginning to feel better, so he went for a walk around the city.
He bought some things, such as; a new wetsuit, since the other one that George had broken. He went to eat somewhere and after a few hours, he returned home. In the afternoon, he mentioned to Karl that he would go to the beach to walk along the shore and talk to Sapnap, if he appeared.
He walked for an hour and a half or so, deciding to go home, when suddenly something heavy pushed him against the sand, pressing on him so he couldn't move. âWe meet again, humanâŚâ Dream shook in fear at the voice that sounded above him. âDid you really think I was going to leave you alone..? Well, in that case, you are very wrongâŚâ said the brown-haired mer with a cruel smile.
The giant fingers of the mer curled around Dream's body,lifting him easily in front of his face. "Please... Let me go..." he said in a voice that was quite low because of fear. The mer only laughed at him,bringing him closer to his face. "I don't think I'm going to." he responded, this time opening his mouth to put the human inside it, when there was a scream a few meters away from them.
There was a girl standing at the entrance to the beach, which wasn't very big, her eyes wide with fear. Soon police cars began to appear, apparently the girl had called them when she saw that Dream was going to be eaten. George let out an annoyed growl and looked at the human in his hand one last time before tossing him roughly to his right, into an area of ââvery little water and littered with rocks.
Dream could only let out a small cry of fear before falling hard against the rocks, his head hitting one of them hard, knocking him completely unconscious. The policemen had quickly gone to help him, calling the ambulance.Â
Meanwhile, the beach began to fill up with people who had been alerted by the screaming and sirens of the police. On the other hand, George had started to go back inside the water, when another mer appeared punching him in the face.
People were shocked to see one mer beating another. âWHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, GEORGE!!? WHAT THE FUCK DID DREAM DO TO YOU FOR YOU TO DO THAT TO HIM?!â George looked with surprised eyes at Quackity. His brother was crying, he hadn't cried since the day he got the scar on his eye. The people were in shock, one mer was defending the person the other had attacked.
The ambulance was not long in arriving, approaching the unconscious young man. "Luckily he is still alive, but he is losing a lot of blood, so we must take him to the hospital immediately." Said one of the ambulance attendants, suddenly Karl arrived at the beach, alerted by all the noise and ran to the ambulance, crying as soon as he saw Dream unconscious. âDream..!! What happened??!!" he asked the cops in a panic before looking around.
The ambulance couldn't wait any longer so it left immediately. Karl's eyes locked on Quackity and he moved towards him quickly. âQuackityâŚ!!â Said mer moved closer to the shore, making the people back away a bit. His hands gently encircled Karl, allowing the human to weep into them. One of the police officers cautiously approached while the others told/forced people to leave saying that everything was over.
Quackity let Karl out of his 'embrace' when the cop got close enough to them. âIs everything okay officer..?â Karl asked. The policeman nodded firmly. âDo you know these mers?â asked the policeman. "Yeah, I know them but obviously I don't get along with him..." he said pointing at George. âAlthough I also know another one. They don't pose any danger, I promise, the ones I get along with at least, George seems to hate humans for some reason." George rolled his eyes at the mention, dismissing it.
"Okay... The young man will probably be at the hospital right now, do you want me to take you there?â George frowned at the word 'young', what does he mean by that? Karl turned for a moment to say goodbye to Quackity before following the policeman and getting into his car.
Once they were gone, Quackity looked back at George, the anger plain on his face. âDon't speak to me again until you've changed! How can you do that to someone, especially a 16 year old boy??!â The eyes of George widened in shock. The human was only 16âŚ? He didn't look that young. âQuackity, bro-âŚâ âDon't talk to me! And I'm not your brother!" he shouted at him, diving into the sea, leaving George alone.
What had he done�
#mcyt g/t#mcyt gt#dsmp g/t#dsmp gt#tw vore mention#tw death mention#giant!george#giant!quackity#mentioned sapnap#tiny!karl#tiny!dream#bottlenose dolphin mer!george#killer whale mer!quackity#surfer!karl#surfer!dream#tw blood#tw injury#surfer!dream au
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International Incident Part 5
Part 1 Part 4
After the drivers decide that Lewis and Logan would do social media posts, Lewis calls Toto for an update. "Toto, what is going on? It's been almost three hours, man. This isn't ok. If we don't get out soon, we are going to come up with our own plan."
From the speakerphone, everyone could hear a gruff Toto say, "we haven't gotten much of an update either. Stefano and some of the FIA are negotiating with the representation of the country. The only thing we have been told is that they are not looking for money. We offered. They seem to want to make a spectacle out of this. They're unhappy with," Toto sighed, "a lot of things really."
"Like what?" Lewis was aware they needed to save cell phone battery, but it felt too important to cut the conversation short.
"Like," Toto hesitated, sounding exhausted, "all of it. Gay rights, women's rights, global warming, and our attempts at reducing carbon emissions. Something about a flag and sponsors, too. It just sounds like they want us to be stuck in the 50s or something. I have no idea how a race was even approved here." The drivers all started whispering amongst themselves with that admission. What were they going to do? Why was this being taken out on them?
"Money talks, Toto," Lewis responds. "We all know that. The big question is - what do they want us to do about it? Those things are much bigger than this one race here. We can't just pledge to set back humanity."
"No, no, we can't, and we won't. We need to figure out how to get you all out and get the hell out of here." Toto paused again to ask, "how is everyone doing?"
"Umm," Lewis surveyed the room. The duos and trios had started to separate again. The closeness during their planning session diminished as they heard Toto's comments. "I'm going to go with not great. Little water, no food, and we're basically on the edge of panic."
"I don't know what to suggest for you all but I will do my best to see if we can at least get you some food and water. Hopefully this ends soon."
"Yeah, ok, Toto, thanks for the update. I'm going to save battery again, so just call if you have an update. We may switch to someone else's phone after a while, but mine is still good for now. We'll text you if that changes." Toto had become the main contact since George and Lewis were part of the problem solving group, and they knew Toto would do everything in his power to get them out. The rest of the team principals were also aware that Toto was the only contact after the initial lock-in occurred.
Everyone settled back into their corners to call their loved ones. The problem solving team also found spaces they could speak somewhat privately, given everyone was stuck in a single room together.
As they walked very slowly back to their corner, Danny said, "well, I guess it's phone call time. Do we want to call one at a time? We can time the one person and provide support?" He turned to Max and Lando for their thoughts.
Max nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that's good. I don't think I should call my dad, though. I'll call my mom and Victoria together." Daniel and Lando did not question the decision as they approached their former spot.
Daniel dropped himself down against the wall and opened his legs suggestively. "Anyone wanna come cuddle me?" His eyebrows jumped up and down as he surveyed the two men. Lando immediately blushed and shook his head no while Max seemed to contemplate the offer. "You in, Maxy?"
"Sure," Max answered nonchalantly, settling down between Daniel's legs and leaning casually against his chest. Lando stood with his mouth open at how easily Max had agreed.
Seeing Lando's reaction, Danny told him, "you missed your shot, Lan. Have to wait for the next time my legs are open!" He laughed at his own comment and opened his arm up for Lando to squish next to him, which he did without hesitation.
"Anyone want to call first?" Lando asked softly. He didn't want to call at all but knew it was the right thing to do.
"I will do it," Max said, pulling his phone out from his back pocket, awkwardly knocking against Daniel's legs.
Squeezing his legs back around Max's body once his arm was clear, Daniel teased, "Oh, Maxy," getting a chuckle in return.
While Max was turning his phone on, Lando rolled his eyes and debated about his own phone call. He knew he had to talk to his parents, but he also wished he could talk to his other friend Max. He debated what he needed to say, thinking back to Lewis' suggestions. His parents would absolutely know something was wrong if he just called to say he loved them, and if his dad figured out something was wrong and Lando wasn't telling him, he would get the information somehow. He had Zak's direct line after all. After a few minutes, Lando realized he hadn't been listening to Max. The call had started, and Lando tuned in to hear Max say, "you will be well taken care of if anything happens to me. I met with some lawyers to see to it." Lando raised an eyebrow and looked at Danny for his reaction. Danny was staring at his watch with an intense look on his face, nothing Lando wanted to interrupt. Once again, tuning back in, Lando heard Max say goodbye, and he loved them. Lando was also shocked to see the silent tears falling down his friend's face. He reached over, wrapped their arms together, and put his head on Max's shoulder.
"It is not a lie," Max answered the question Lando didn't ask. "I had lawyers draw up papers that most of my money and property goes to them if I die. I did it a long time ago, but I did not see the point in telling them before. They know racing is dangerous, and it did not seem important."
Daniel slipped an arm between Lando's body and arm so he could wrap both arms around Max. "You did good, Maxy. Your family is so proud of you." As an afterthought he added, "so am I." Max looked over his shoulder at Daniel, grateful.
"I'm proud of you too, Max," Lando added softly. "You deserve everything you've achieved. I just wish I could take away the bad stuff." Lando's head remained on Max's shoulder, so he didn't see the confused face.
"The bad stuff made me deserve the good stuff," Max responded.
Danny sighed and tightened his hold. "No, Maxy. You don't have to go through bad stuff to get good stuff. That's now how life works. You deserve it just for being you."
Max would not agree with his friends, but he did not see the point arguing, so he asked, "who is next?"
"Danny," Lando answered quickly. He bashfully looked back, hoping he would not disagree.
"Sure, sure," Danny conceded, pulling his arms back to get his own phone out. "Maxy, you want to time me with that fancy watch you've got? I probably need like a minute warning. Unlike you, who finished your call in less than 3 minutes!"
"Are you sure you do not need a five minute warning? We know how you like to talk," Max joked.
Daniel tickled Max's side in retaliation, thankful for the laughter it caused. Max squirmed a bit until Daniel stopped to prepare for his call. He was calling both of his parents together. He wanted to call his sister too but didn't think he would have time to arrange it and say what he wanted without raising too many alarm bells.
Lando desperately wanted to listen to Danny's call to try to help prepare him for his own, but as soon as Danny started talking, Lando zoned out again. He watched the different drivers in the room to see how they were reacting to calling their loved ones. Charles and Pierre remained the closest to them, and Yuki had attached himself to that group, or more specifically, Pierre. Pierre was obviously trying to be strong for the men on both sides of him. His face looked hard, likely trying to hide his true feelings. Meanwhile, Yuki looked terrible. He was so confused and staring at his phone like it was a foreign object he had never used before. Charles looked like he had finished his call if the tear tracks on his face were any indication.
Lando looked to the other side of the room to see George and Alex together, George on the phone, and Alex holding his hand while looking at his own watch. Fernando and Carlos were sitting near each other, each on their phones. Esteban was on his phone and talking animatedly while Lance seemed to be zoned out, staring at the floor in front of himself.
A hand touching his back broke Lando from his own reverie, causing him to jump. "I'm sorry, Lan," Danny said, continuing to rub up and down. "You ok? Are you ready to call your parents?"
Lando looked back at Danny, shocked that it was already his turn. He hadn't heard a single thing Danny had said. He can see the tears in his eyes, though. Lando took another look around the room, a deep breath, and turned back to Danny with determination. If everyone else could do this, so could he. "Yes, let's do this." Lando picked up his phone and realized his hands were shaking. He couldn't even unlock it in the first two attempts.
Danny reached over and took the phone from his hands. Without saying anything, he held it steady and let Lando unlock it. Once unlocked, Danny took it and turned airplane mode off and opened the phone contacts. Lando didn't understand why Danny was doing that. He could handle these basic tasks. He didn't see the point in arguing, though. Maybe Danny needed to help him to feel grounded. After a moment, Danny showed him his phone and asked, "this number?" Lando could see "Dad (ICE)" open and nodded. He might need to add his mom, but he would see if they were together first.
"Wait, what time is it in the UK?" Lando asked suddenly. The drivers were calling all over the world, and the timing was bound to cause some alarms to go off.
Max answered, "7pm." Of course Max knew without having to look it up.
"It was the middle of the night for your family, Danny?" Lando asked, concerned.
Danny grimaced and confirmed, "Yeah, I didn't think that through. They definitely know something is wrong, but they know to wait for more information." Then added softly as an afterthought, "hopefully."
Lando stared at the contact on his phone until the screen went dark. He felt shuffling next to him and realized Max had gotten up, and Danny had managed to maneuver them both so Lando was back between his legs. His knees were up on both sides, almost like a leg hug, while his arms wrapped snuggly around his waist. "Do you want to practice?" Danny offered quietly. Lando didn't know what to say. To Danny, to his parents. He leaned back against Danny's chest, thankful for the support. He glanced over at Max, now to his right, who was staring right back at him intensely. As they looked in each other's eyes, Danny stated, "you don't have to lie. Tell them you're having a bad night and you miss them. You just want to hear their voices. That's not too strange to concern them, is it?"
"My parents?" Lando asked with a forced chuckle. "They'd be concered for sure, but I think you're right. They'd be more concerned about my mental health than me being in a fucking hostage situation." Lando felt Danny kiss the back of his head but he didn't say anymore. Lando took that as his cue to just get it done.
Managing to unlock his phone this time seemed like a good sign he was ready. Lando clicked "call" and "speakerphone" quickly. He probably shouldn't do speakerphone given so many people in the room, but he just couldn't handle being the only one that could hear his parents' reaction.
"Hey Lando!" his dad answered, sounding happy to hear from him.
"Hey dad," Lando responded, trying to sound more upbeat than he felt.
"What's wrong?" his dad immediately asked, proving Lando failed his attempt.
"Nothing, just um, could you get mom too, please? I just want to talk to you both." Lando found himself rubbing his leg, trying to force out the nervous energy.
Lando's dad responded, "of course, give me a minute." He could be heard yelling in the background and walking through the house.
Lando felt another kiss on his head, this time just above his left ear. It felt more grounding than the rubbing he was doing. He pushed his head back into Danny's face gently, trying to say thank you silently.
"Honey?" Lando's mom asked, concerned. "Are you OK? Your dad said you wanted to talk to both of us. Do we need us to come to you?"
"No!" Lando exclaims much too loudly. He glances around the room to see if any other driver's noticed but just sees a couple of people looking his way. That was fine. Not too big a scene. "I just mean, no, I'm ok. You don't need to travel all this way just because I'm having a bad night. I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow."
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" His mom asks.
"I, um, I just," Lando stuttered. He had no idea what to say.
Danny leaned over Lando's shoulder and spoke to the phone, "hey Mr and Mrs Norris, Daniel Ricciardo here. I'm sorry to scare you like this. Lando was just feeling out of sorts, and I thought a piece of home might make him feel better. I didn't consider how that would sound to you."
"Oh, honey," Lando's mom responded softly. "Thank you, Danny. What have I said about the whole Mr. and Mrs. Norris thing? You're an adult, and a close friend of the family. There's no need for such formality."
"Right, right," Danny agreed. "Just feels wrong, like I'm disrespectful if I don't call you that!"
"Well, I'm telling you I don't find you using our first names disrespectful at all," Lando's mom responded sternly.
Danny laughed and agreed, "Ok, Ok, I get it. I don't want to take away from Lan here. Unfortunately, we need to go in a minute. Lando, tell your parents you love them and not to worry about you."
Lando swallowed and did as told, "I love you. Don't worry about me."
"We're always going to worry about you," Lando's dad responds. "We love you too, Lando, so much."
"So much," Lando's mom adds. "Call us anytime, honey. And, Danny?"
"Yes?"
"You take good care of our boy, right?"
"I do my best," Danny answers with a slight catch in his voice. Lando's parents don't seem to notice and hang up after their goodbyes
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idea! your top 5 drivers who look prettiest in a classic maid dress + shiny black pointed toe heels đ
my ranking: 5) estie, 4) lando, 3) zhou, 2) charles, and 1) yuki!
...of course charles' heels are red bottoms, what else ���
- george's long legs anon đđ
Ooo I LOVE this!!! Though to be honest, honest all of them would look AMAZING in a maid dress. It also took me an embarrassing amount of time to come up with my list because if I could I would make like 8 of them number one.
5) Pierre
I mainly put Pierre as number 5 because he does absolutely ZERO cleaning. If anything him wearing the maid outfits results in you having to clean even more because it always ends in a big mess.
He wears the maid outfit as part of humiliation, and by the end of the scene the outfit is completely ruined, covered in cum and sweat and lube and most likely torn a little. But that's fine, you just buy him another one.
4) Yuki
Listen, yuki is just SO cute. So cute. So yuki in a maid dress? EVEN CUTER.
And for some reason a detail I can't stop thinking about is that his thick thighs will have hickeys on them? You never stop kissing and biting his thighs, so he's always covered in marks. And in a maid dress the marks look even better.
3) Max
With max, it's all about praise. And it's something he's very uncertain about first, but he tells you that he wants you to choose an outfit for him, something pretty.
You purposefully choose something out of his comfort zone, and praise him so much. He ends up loving it so much. It's not something he wears often, but he asks if he can wear it when he feels really unsettled and just wants to be your good girl.
2) Charles
Of course Charles is here. Of course charles loves wearing little dresses and is always looking for more cute outfits to wear for you. So really it's only a matter of time before he buys a maid costume.
He even tries to clean! Bless him, he really tries. But of course because he's in the maid suit so he's naturally very horny. And listen, he's a clumsy subby baby at the best of times, so when he's in a maid suit he's even clumsier. He tries to clean, really he does. But to be honest it's best if you just stop him and just wreck him instead.
1)) Mick
Mick is number one for two reasons. Firstly, because he looks SO good in a maid outfit. He looks so damn good. Perfect. His waist and tits look insane in the maid outfit.
And secondly, HE ACTUALLY CLEANS!!! He cleans the house in the pretty outfit!! And even if you try to tempt him away from his chores early, he'll refuse. He's a good maid! He finishes cleaning before he gets fucked.
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george russell is interviewed on media day [part 2], miami, florida, u.s. - may 4, 2023 (transcription under the cut)
Interviewer: "Is that how you are naturally, or is that because of the people you surround yourself with?" George: "I think I'm fortunate to be surrounded by really great people-my friends, my family, my girlfriend-but also Toto and the team, they've... I've obviously been a part of Mercedes, as a junior driver, for... I can't remember when I joined that. 2016. And they sort of taught me the ropes, allowed me to understand what this sport's about, and I've never really been thrown in the deep end. Whether that's a good thing or not, I'm not too sure, but it's sort of been step-by-step, which definitely, in ways, is great, but I wanna climb the stairs two or three at a time. At the moment it's one step at a time, but it'll come. Interviewer: "Yeah, no doubt it will. Being back in Miami for the second race here, what memories do you have of last year, and what did you make of the race a season ago?" George: "It was chaos last year. I remember being in this paddock and not being able to move because there were so many people." Interviewer: "'Hey, I need to get to the garage. Kind of important, here.'" George: "Yeah. I remember, actually, we had a few celebrities in our hospitality, and I'm not gonna name names, but full-on A-listers, and when Michelle Obama and her security detail arrived they had to kick out the celebrities, and Michelle Obama's here now, so that was quite a funny moment. But it was a great race here last year, exciting race. We had a good result, and I'm exited to see what Miami brings this year." Interviewer: "Yeah. Much has been made, obviously, about the shortened DRS zones. What are your expectations for this weekend here at this tracK? George: "They've resurfaced the track here, which, in our world, makes such a big difference because the thing connecting us to the ground is the tires, and if that surface is changed, everything changes, so we need to learn how that's gonna be. It's so hot out there, at the moment. When we race in Europe, we measure the temperature of the tarmac in celsius. It's normally between 25 and 40. Here, it's 60 degrees celsius, so you could fry an egg on the ground, probably, if you wanted to." Interviewer: "Would you eat it?" George: "No. [laughs] So those tires are gonna be burning when we drive around full gas, so that could make it exciting. If there's more than one pit stop, the tires are dropping off because they're getting too hot, and that's what'll make it a fun race." Interviewer: "I have to ask you. Laurence Edmondson did a hot lap with you. How did he do? Was he squealing at all? Was he nervous?" George: "He was squealing a little bit. He was definitely squealing a little bit. He actually got the best lap because he was my last lap, so my tires were absolutely destroyed because I was drifting everywhere, so with Laurence I managed to drift a little bit extra. We had a really nice drift out of the last corner, all around the next left-hander, as well. Yeah, I think he enjoyed it." Interviewer: "He's gonna be talking about that all season long. You made his year." George: "Brilliant." Interviewer: "Awesome. Best of luck this weekend. We really appreciate the time." George: "Thank you very much."
#george russell#f1#formula 1#miami gp 2023#fic ref#fic ref 2023#miami#miami 2023#miami 2023 thursday
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F1 DRIVERS AND CHRISTMAS ACTIVITIES
special xmas edition
inclunding mclaren, ferrari, mercedes + verstappen, ricciardo & gasly
warning : none
note : i rushed it and i just think it's super messy and bad written lol
!! english not my first language !!
ጠOSCAR PIASTRI 81
you love christmas because of course it means christmas cookies and pastries. you like baking, so when oscar offered to join you to bake some cookies, you obviously had to say yes. he would try to do his best, learning from you. he looks carefully how you manage to draw perfect shapes, and he tries to recreate it even though it ends up in a mess. his cookies are not the best, but he doesn't care since he spend time with you, the most precious person in his world.
ጠLANDO NORRIS 4
your tradition is to decorate christmas tree. this year, you came up with the idea of mixing red and gold colors, but your boyfriend does not agree with that. he asks for orange, since he wants to show how proud he is of being a mclaren driver. you argue with him, saying orange will look bad. but he's stubborn, so after a agreement you two ended up by putting orange and gold colors in the tree. it's not really pretty. but lando likes it anyway, and he'll thanks his favorite girl for letting him put his favorite color.
ጠCHARLES LECLERC 16
this man doesn't even know how to cook pasta, so no need to ask him to wrap the christmas presents. he'll make a pure mess. instead you made him responsible for buying the presents, and you'll wrap them. seeing you wrapping them, he would propose his help. you say yes because how could you refuse some precious help. but you knew it was a bad idea cause as soon as he grabs the wrapping paper, he rips it. you sigh and he would peck your face and lips in order to apologize. and it worked, since he finished by helping you, well more kissing you but that's a secret.
ጠCARLOS SAINZ 55
you literally love christmas market, so does carlos. you are so excited to see the different decorations and dishes, and carlos couldn't help but get excited too. he would bring you there, and seeing those little sparks in your eyes warms his heart. he'll buy you anything you ask, and even feed you some hot food. a big christmas tree is in the center of the place, and of course you have to take a picture with it. carlos will take it, and then probably post it on his instagram story, saying how good the day was and how cute his lover is.
ጠLEWIS HAMILTON 44
christmas also means movies marathon. well at least for you and lewis. it is one of your favorite activity of the year. you two would slip under the warm blankets, cuddling so close. lewis starts the first christmas movie, and the night passes extremely fast. laughing and talking about christmas stories, and of course kissing session is open. but soon you start feeling tired, and when lewis sees you falling asleep he would join you. pressing soft lazy kisses on your forehead, the movie still playing in the background.
ጠGEORGE RUSSEL 63
snowman. how cute it is. when you saw the first snow, you literally screamed and called george, getting way too much excited. and when the snow would stop falling, letting a large white layer on the floor, you'll run outside with george. you start building the snowman's head, and george build the body. of course you would throw at each other some snowball but it's just too funny. you finish by placing a carrot and some rocks, and ta da ! the snowman is just as beautiful as you and george. and he'll proud of it, but most of you.
ጠMAX VERSTAPPEN 33
karaoke night. max wants to spend his christmas holidays only with you, well actually all of his winter break with you. and he loves karaoke and you loves christmas songs, so obviously you had to mix these two things together. so here you are, on a night, playing christmas songs out loud in the house. he'll sing loudly over them, and you'll join him, screaming lyrics like you felt the music deep inside your bones. maybe the neighbors will complain about it later, but you don't care, because the moment was just so romantic and sweet.
ጠDANIEL RICCIARDO 3
ice skating is such a fun activity. and daniel wants to do it with you. so putting on your skates and going on the ice. surprisingly, daniel would be the one who fall literally every seconds. he firmly grab your hand, maybe a bit too much since you don't even feel your fingers, but even like that he somehow manage to slip and fall on the ground. taking in you with. but you don't really care, because after all it's just so funny. your laughs filled the air and daniel feels so happy about his idea. about ice skating together. and he knows for sure it will remains as a great memory.
ጠPIERRE GASLY 10
you literally hate gingerbread, so when pierre asked you to build a gingerbread house you refused the offer. but you know how much he wants to spend time with you and how much he wants to build that house, so you finally gave up. he would be so happy and after baking everything, you thought about contend for who will build the best gingerbread house. you would put all your efforts in it, so concentrate. pierre doesn't want to lose, and neither do you. so after building them, he'll ask on his instagram story who built the best one. and when he'll see you being the winner, he won't hide how disappointed but proud of you he'll be. because after all if it's you the winner, then that's all okay.
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 x you#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri x reader#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#george russel x reader#max verstappen x reader#daniel riccardo x reader#pierre gasly x reader
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i just saw this photo and then voilĂ we get this mess:
Harry was so exhausted.
There was being tired like the kind of tired you are when youâve just finished a training session in the gym, but then thereâs the kind of tired where you yawn at the thought of even moving a muscle. Harry was currently the second kind of tired.
After coming back from a heavy day filming on the set of âEternalsâ, Harry had instantly come back to his house, lucky that the filming was close to your home in LA, and crashed on the sofa immediately. He hadnât checked to see whether anyone was in the house, because he was too tired to even raise his voice to call.
He couldnât remember much after sitting died in the couch, except for now where he felt a soft scribbling on his arms. Harry softly opened his eyes and tried his best to be still and quiet, wanting to see what was happening before he made any rational movements. He had to hold his laugh in when he saw the sight to the side of him.
âGeorge, youâre not being very helpful.â Daphne sighed as her brother wasnât doing what sheâd asked him to do, âI asked for the red pen, not the blue one.â
Daphne had to pick up the red pen for herself, watching as her brother held the blue one between his chubby 1 year old fingers. Daphne rubbed the pen over her brothers legs to try the colour out first, making sure she was satisfied before using it on her dad. Harry smirked as he watched the adoring sight in front of him. He would of let her continue had it not been for George about to eat the blue pen.
âOi, buddy no.â Harry quickly shot up from the chair and pulled the pen out of his hands before he could do any damage. George looked at his dad with sad and confused eyes. âDonât look at me like that pal. As much as the blue looks yummy, I donât think yâmum would be too pleased with yâeating it. Donât want to get daddy in trouble now, do we?â
Harry scooped up George in his arms before sitting back down on the sofa. A moment later Daphne comes and climbs up next to him. âHi daddy.â She smiled, cuddling into his side and Harry wrapped his arm around her small 4 year old frame and hugged her tight.
âHello my queen.â He kissed the top of her forehead, before peeling back to give his little king a kiss to the top of his forehead too. âWhatâve yâdone to me?â Harry asked her, looking at his arms as he kept George pressed against his chest carefully.
âMummy bought me some new pens and I wanted to colour in. Mummy said that I had to use my big brain instead of buying me a colouring book, though.â Daphne explained, playing with his fingers as she explained with her little people words.
âYou definitely used yâbig brain against mummy this time petal.â Harry chuckled under his breathe, excited for the look on your face when you saw the three of them.
âGeorge helped too.â Daphne added, making Harry chuckle because George was covered in just about the same amount of ink as Harry had been. If not, worse.
âVery creative, bubs. Proud of you.â Harry kissed his daughters head again. âWhereâs mummy?â
âShe said she was going to do some work for you.â
âFor me?â Harry questioned.
Your job wasnât a regular 9-5 job. You worked as Harryâs PA, getting paid by Harryâs management the same way that any other employee would. You had been working in the music industry long before youâd met Harry, in fact thatâs how you met him, so you were well equipped for the job. It wasnât odd for you to be doing jobs at random times. It was odd, however, that you were doing work when Harry didnât even realise there was work to be done.
You had and always would be the hardest working person that heâd ever known and that included himself in that equation. You loved your family so much that it would do anything to provide for them, considering also the fact that you hated abusing Harryâs money. You had a joint bank account, but he only put in the same amount that you got paid in it so you were both equals. His other money went into stocks and shares or property or charity. He loved that you made him so grounded and real.
âShe said you looked too tired.â Daphne spoke, a slight sadness to get voice that Harry detected.
âHey, bubs, whatâs wrong?â
Daphne climbed around in his hold, sitting next to her dadâs body. âJust missed you today, daddy. Donât want you to be tired. Or sad.â
âWho said anything about me being sad, hm? How can I be sad when iâve got the two biggest balls of sunshine in mâlife? Missed you too, Daph, so much. Love you.â He kissed her forehead again and then Daphne cupped her dadâs cheeks as she kissed his cheek and whispered that she loved him back.
Harry ordered Daphne to sit with her brother, turning on Cbeebies to keep them entertained, whilst he went to find you.
His nap has really rejuvenated him and he felt so much better now. He wanted to spend as much time with his family tonight as possible, feeling bad that heâd missed out on yet another day with them. His schedule was too crazy at the moment and there were so many meeting what with tour coming up soon. His management were also pressing him for another project soon and he had no idea what he was going to do for that. His new album was nearly finished, but not where he wanted it to be yet. Everything was becoming too much and he knew the only person that would calm him through it would be you.
It was silent as he walked through the house and towards the office, where no doubt you would be found. Pushing open the doors to the room, he quickly found you turning your head to see who had walked in. You were sat, not at the office desk, but on the floor in front of heaps and heaps of papers. You smiled at him and pushed your glasses on to the top of your head, seeing as they were just for helping with close distance reading.
âYâalright love?â Harry asked, leaving the door open in case his children needed to shout for him.
âYeah. Just getting some work done. Yâokay now too? Looked so tired before babe.â You stopped doing whatever you were doing and sat crossed legged on the floor, giving your undivided attention to your husband.
âWas so tired, mâlove. Iâm better now though. Kids were just showing me their artwork.â
âOh yeah? Howâs it looking?â You asked, intrigued over what your brilliantly creative kids were up to.
âMessy.â Was all Harry could respond, not having the heart to tell his wife yet that the children had become the art themselves.
âCouldâve told yâthat by the state of yâarms, H.â You laughed when Harry looked down as if heâd forgotten that he too was covered head to toe in pens.
Harry looked down and twisted his tattooed arm in his grip. Daphne had done a terrible job at sticking to the lines, but he loved how abstract it was nevertheless. The mermaid was coloured just like Ariel and it made Harry recall the night that heâd sat and watched it with his little girl, in order to get her to sleep easily.
âThey get this devilsome side from you love, I swear it.â Harry chuckled, walking over towards you and perching on the edge of the desk just behind where you were sat in front of all your piles of papers.
âMe? Devilsome?â You pretended to be offended.
âAnd they get their charming looks from me.â
âWell I canât argue with yâthere babe.â
Harry and you chuckled, until Harry went more and more silent. It was a tell to you that something wasnât exactly right and he needed you a little bit more today.
You stood up from your position on the floor and didnât say anything, but wrapped your arms around his body until you were squeezing him tight. You squeezed, keeping your cheek softy pressed against his clothed chest, until you felt his arms snake around you too to squeeze. He kissed the top of your head and you hummed in delight. Tiny moments like these made your life more than ten times better.
âYâsmell good.â Harry mumbled against where his cheek was pressed against the top of your head now.
You hummed, not allowing yourself to be sidetracked from this conversation. âYâgonna tell me whatâs up or am I going to have to tickle it out of you?â
âTickle me and see what happens, love.â Harry threatened you, knowing how bad he hated being tickled. It was so horrible that heâs actually cried ugly sobs whilst youâve done it sometimes.
âThen talk tâme.â You spoke softly.
âDaph missed me today.â Harry sighed, both of you still held tight in each others arms except you moved your head so you could look up at him. He looked down at you, making you lean up and kiss his double chin because you couldnât help yourself.
You could tell by his eyes that he was so tired. His dark circles were loud and proud and his eyes slightly red from the strain of keeping them open. You always thought your husband worked too hard, never too much. He never took on more projects than he could handle, but the projects he did put on himself he always gave 101% to. It was that 1% extra that caused the dark circles and red eyes. It caused exhaustion beyond reason. It made him half the man he was, because he only ever had half his energy.
âShe always misses you.â
âThatâs exactly the problem, Y/N. I donât want her to miss me. Not always. It just proves that iâm never here and iâm always away and one day iâm going to come back and sheâs going to hate me and call me a bad bad andââ
You snaked a hand up his back and to his neck before he could stop talking, pushing his neck down so he could meet your lips. You pushed him into the kiss. He was stunned at first, but when he realised that his beautiful wife was kissing him he didnât hesitate to push himself into it too. He kissed and kissed and kissed you, until he was convinced that heâd probed just how much he loves you. You pulled back only slightly to look into his dazed eyes, giving him one final peck before removing your hand from his neck and moving further away - still hugging him though.
âWhat was that for?â He asked, not that he was complaining.
âYou were talking too much.â You responded simply, before continuing. âHarry, before you I was always so wary of my ex-boyfriends and girlfriends because I would look at them and think âshit, I donât want you to parent my kidsâ. Half the reason I broke up with them is because my future with them was so non-existent. Yâknow what else? They were half the people that you are. They were only on small paid jobs, which meant half the time they were at home with me.â
âYouâve never told me that before.â
âNever needed to. However, you saying that youâre a bad dad and how youâre never here? Itâs fucking bullshit. Iâve never felt so strongly about someone other than you, Harry. Never. Seeing you being a dad to those two amazing children out there, is genuinely my favourite feeling in the goddamn world. Iâm thankful that you are their dad. They deserve you. They are everything they are because of you, and maybe a little bit of me too. Those children are who they are because you allow them to be just that. The first time I saw you, I knew. I look at you now and I still know. Your children love you H, so bloody much. Donât think for one second that they could do otherwise.â
Harry had gotten teary eyed as youâd spoken and only progressed to little sobs towards the end. You pulled him close and allowed him to cry on your shoulder. You held him until the sobs had stopped and he could breathe a little better.
âAnd you?â Harry asked, pulling back to look lovingly at you.
âWhat about me?â
âDaph said that you were doing all this extra work because you didnât want it to pile on top of me. Is that true?â
âOh, these are just old taxes and bills that iâm sorting through ready for the new financial year babe. Nothing too strenuous. I leave that all to you, yâknow that.â You chuckled, making Harry smile too.
âYâtoo good, yâknow that Y/N?â Harry asked rhetorically, making your bite down on your lip to suppress a cheshire cat grin.
âI try to be. Just as I know you do.â
âFuck, I love you so much.â Harry whispered, before bringing you in for another longing kiss. He made sure you were breathless before detaching himself from your pretty lips.
âI love you too. Now go get yourself clean, before we have dinner.â You released yourself from your warm hug and left the room.
Harry was in the bathroom, scrubbing his skin clean of any pen or crayon marks, but leaving the mermaid colouring in on his arm because he liked it too much. It was perfect, not because it looked really cool but because it came from the most special little human beings in his life. He smiled to himself as he looked over his arm, before hearing you shout down the hallway.
âHarry? Why does my child look like he belongs in an art gallery?â
Harry couldnât help but just smile, knowing he had the most perfect life with the most perfect people.
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#finelinevogue#harry blurb#finelinevogue harry styles#harry oneshot#harry styles concept#dad! harry styles#harry styles dad blurbs#dadrry#ask finelinevogue#anon response#finelinevogue blurbs#masterlist harry styles finelinevogue#harry styles fluff
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Written for @hinnyfest
Prompt 18: Sharing a Sweater
A/N: This is a sequel to my Prompt 4 submission. It was the one with the locker room submission.
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Harry and Ginny were talking in very hushed tones about something, and Fred knew that this was more⌠intense, at least as far as their secrets went.
After the War, it was like Harry and Ginny were inseparable. Everyone had been in their own heads for quite a while, but even still, they all noticed Harry and Ginny getting closer and closer, and no one was surprised when Harry started calling her his best friend.
Fred and George had both wondered if there was more than friendship going on there, but neither had asked, mostly because Harry and Ginny seemed to go on many trips, in different parts of the world, and they seemed quite content after they came back.
But now wasn't the time to think of that, they had a prank to pull after all. Their latest invention, the Secrecy Sweater, was about to be tested on none other than their own family, and Fred and George couldn't wait for their reactions.
Honestly, it was a brilliant piece of Magic, inspired by that of a Secrecy Sensor. It would detect who in a room- except for the one(s) who activated it- had the biggest secret. And it wouldn't come off until the Secret was revealed, or until the Sweater was otherwise destroyed.
They waited until the end of dinner to set it off, though. While their Mum was okay with their Joke Shop, pranking anyone at Dinner was huge 'No!'
As they'd expected, a white mist swirled around the Dinner Table, much to everyone's alarm. Bill, Harry, and Ginny had even drawn their Wands out, trying to make a way through it, to no avail. The Mist was a mere illusion. He suspected they were trying to avoid getting Poisoned if the mist wasn't.
The mist suddenly went for Harry and Ginny, and they were trapped in a Get Along Sweater that said, "Secret Keepers,"
"What the actual Fuck?" Harry asked.
"Fred and George Weasley!" Ginny snarled at the same time, surprising everyone into silence. For a second Fred almost pissed himself, but he felt proud that he kept it in.
"You've got a big Secret you aren't telling us," George said with a smirk, pointing at the T-shirt.
Fred sighed tragically. "Oh, look how secretive they've gotten, George," he said, shaking his head. "They were such innocent children once."
"Tragic, really," George agreed, wiping a tear from his cheek. "Our little sister-"
"How are we getting out of this?" Ginny asked. "Do we have to fight you in this and win somehow? Or do you take bribes?"
"You have to tell your secret," Fred explained. He was certain it would be that they were dating, but he'd wait and see.
"We were about to do that now, anyway," Harry said, glaring at him.
"Well, then by all means, go ahead," George said, smirking at him.
"Maybe we don't want to now," Ginny said, trying to cross her arms, but failing. "Ugh!"
"I could set it on Fiendfyre if you want," Harry told her seriously.
"HmmâŚ" she trailed off in thought. "Yeah, alright, burn it away."
"WHAT!?" A lot of their family members exclaimed. Using Fiendfyre in a closed space only led to disasters. It was taught in Fourth Year DADA classes. How did they miss that?
"It's only fair," Harry explained, shrugging. "They trapped us in this sweater, I'll burn it to get us out."
"Technically, you trapped yourself," Ron pointed out.
Harry raised an eyebrow at him, but Ginny just waved him off. "Eh, semantics," she said.
"You could just tell usâŚ" Mum suggested helpfully.
Harry cocked his head and turned to Ginny, both of them seemingly having a silent conversation before they both let out a frustrated breath and nodded.
"Alright," Harry started.
"We're engaged," Ginny finished.
The effect was instantaneous, Fred's eyes almost popped out of his head, and George nearly spat his drink out. Mum and Dad smiled a few moments later, Ron, Hermione and Percy had their jaws on the floor, and the rest of them just seemed confused.
"But, but," some of them spluttered.
The sweater, however, didn't move.
"It's only a prototype," George explained nervously at their livid looks. "There's a good chance it might not work as intended."
"So, what do we do now?" Harry asked Ginny a while later.
"Well⌠since it's a prototype, I do think we should test out how durable it is," Ginny suggested with an impish smile, causing Harry to smirk.
"That's a great idea!" George exclaimed as Fred nodded at him.
"In private, of course," Harry said, smirking wider.
"Wait, what?" George said as Harry and Ginny quickly said a goodbye and ran off, promptly disapparating when they were beyond the Wards. "I swear I didn't know that's what they were talking about."
"Fred, George," Ron said with a sigh. "You're both idiots, you know that?"
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5 times robby fell in love with you + 1 time he actually said it
requested:Â no
a/n: hey besties itâs been a hot minute! i promise that part two of modern day romeo and juliet is in the works but here is a little robby imagine because i have been in my robby feels lately. :)
summary:Â read the title besties :) you and robby are already dating in this imagine.Â
word count:Â 1832
one: wheel training
âi donât know about this mr. larusso,â you mumble as you take your sweatshirt off to climb into the pond. robby was already in there, shivering from the coolness of the water. âyouâll be fine y/n,â mr. larusso says encouragingly. you nod, slowly entering the shallow pond with robbyâs help. together the two of you approach the wheel in the middle, each of you on your respective sides. âokay now climb on,â mr. larusso instructs, and you look nervously at robby, who just nods. together the two of you climb onto the wheel.
after countless tries and many failed attempts the two of you were able to perform the technique semi-decently. âwe did it!â you shout as you come up from the water. robby and mr. larusso laugh at your excitement. you splash some water up in the air, laughing as the droplets hit your skin on the way down. robby looks at you adoringly, a smile on his face. âalright you two, thatâs enough for today. iâll see you tomorrow,â mr. larusso says, smiling at the two of you as he walks towards the house.Â
once heâs inside the house, robby wades through the water to you. âwe did it robby!â you cheer, throwing your arms around his shoulders, a proud smile on your face. âyes we did baby,â he answers, resting his forehead against yours. âjust imagine us doing that in a fight! weâd be unstoppable!â you exclaim and robby just nods his head. he wasnât really paying attention to what you were saying, instead he was thinking about how happy you made him and how contagious your smile was.   Â
two: during the mall fight
âget behind me,â you instruct demetri, pushing the tall boy behind you, while sam took care of the others. âback off,â sam tells hawk, and you nod your head, getting into your fighting stance. hawk scoffs at the three of you. âi donât want to have to hit a girl,â he says, looking between you and sam. now it was your turn to scoff. âfunny how you think youâd even stand a chance against us,â you say confidently. now robby was beside you, the three of you covering demetri.
âfive against four. more like three and a half,â hawk remarks, nodding towards his friends, signaling the start of the fight. you were fighting off two boys in the back while robby was fighting off two of them in the front. sam was taking care of some boy towards the middle of the group, while demetri just stood in the center, not fighting anyone. slowly, one by one, you and your friends had taken down the cobra kais, well all of them except for hawk.Â
you look over your shoulder to see hawk charging towards you robby, who was cornered up against a table. you knew that robby could handle himself, but a wave of protectiveness washed over you. the next thing you know, hawk was lying on the floor of the food court while you stood in front of robby. everyone ohed at the sight of hawk lying on the ground, but you didnât pay them any mind. you turn to face robby, grabbing his face in your hands. âare you alright?â you ask, looking over him worriedly. robby chuckled at you, pulling you into a tight hug. âiâm fine baby, thank you,â he answers with nothing but admiration in his voice as he kisses your forehead. Â
three: he catches you singing
robby jogs up the stairs to your room. today the two of you were taking a break from karate and planning on watching a movie together. robby knocks on the door, but there was no answer. he cracks the door open and sees you jumping around your room. you were wearing one of his shirts and a pair of shorts, your hair brush in your hand, as you belted out the lyrics to teenage dirtbag. âoh yeah! dirtbag!â you sing along with zayn malik. robby smiles as he watches you sing and dance around the room.Â
now you were standing in front of your mirror, pointing to yourself as you sang, completely engrossed in the song. at one point you tilt your head back, really getting into it. robby continues to watch you sing the song, a loving smile on his face the entire time. he only makes himself known when he claps his hands once the song ends. you freeze, turning towards the door where your boyfriend is clapping. a blush immediately coats your cheeks, as you throw your hairbrush on your bed.Â
âi didnât take you as a singer y/n,â robby points out, stepping into your room. your blush turns an even deeper shade of red as you look away from his hazel eyes. robby closes the distance between the two of you, placing a loving kiss on your lips. âi thought it was cute,â robby confesses once you seperate. âespecially since youâre wearing my shirt,â he continues, a giggle escaping your mouth. âstop being cheesy,â you say, pushing him away from you. âbut you love it,â he remarks, sitting down on your bed. you roll your eyes, âi guess.â   Â
four: your date at the roller rink
it was 80s night at the roller rink, and you and robby were long overdue for a date night. you and robby decided to go as people from the outsiders. robby as a soc and you as a greaser. âan enemies to lovers typa beat,â you explain, fixing his jacket. robby just nods along, too busy admiring you in your ripped jeans and leather jacket.Â
âiâll go get the skates. wait here,â robby says, kissing your cheek as he walks towards the rental counter. shortly after, robby comes back with two pairs of skates. âthanks robby,â you say, placing a chaste kiss on his lips as he sits down on the bench next to you. âokay ready?â robby asks, and you nod, grabbing his hand as the two of you head over to the roller rink.Â
together you skate leisurely around the rink. laughing and singing along to the 80s songs that the dj is playing. while the two of you are skating hand in hand when the song i would die 4 u by prince comes on. âoh my gosh! i love this song!â you cheer, excitement all over your face. robby chuckled at your words, âi know. i may have put in a request with the dj.â you smile so big when robby said that. âyouâre the best robby,â you say, and robby could tell that your words were genuine. robby just smiled at you, listening to you sing along with prince.      Â
five: midnight baking session
you couldnât sleep. it was 12:00 at night, and you could not fall asleep. robby on the other hand, was fast asleep. well you thought he was fast asleep when you left your room to go to the kitchen. it turns out that robby wasnât asleep because he was now standing in the kitchen, watching as you grabbed different ingredients. âwhat are you doing y/n? itâs twelve am,â robby asks, a tired yawn escaping him. âi couldnât sleep so i decided to make some brownies. want to help?â you ask him, and you're practically begging him with your eyes to say yes. âwhy not,â robby mumbles, joining you.Â
âyes! okay so can you go get the medium saucepan? itâs in that cabinet over there,â you instruct, pointing towards the cabinet. robby nods tiredly and gets you the pan, wrapping his arms around your waist once he brings it to you. âtired?â you ask him, measuring out the flour. âjust a bit,â robby replies, resting his head on your shoulder, kissing your neck. you giggle, moving your head away from him. âstop that tickles,â you say, looking at the snoop dogg cookbook.Â
about forty minutes later, you and robby are sitting on the couch watching friends and eating brownie sundaes. âthese brownies are so good,â robby says, basically moaning at the taste. âyeah babe? do you like them?â you ask, cuddled up to his side. robby nods vigorously. âthey are so good. you better make these more often,â he says, looking at you. âi will,â you promise and robby nods gratefully. the two of you continue to watch the show and eat your ice cream.
âhey iâm done. do you want me to put your bowl in the sink?â robby asks, sitting up from his spot on the couch. âyes please,â you respond, handing him the empty bowl. robby takes it from you, but not before placing a kiss on your cheek. âwhat was that for?â you ask, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. âyou had some chocolate there, and maybe i just wanted to kiss you,â robby replies and a huge smile encompasses your face.Â
it was now three am and george lopez was playing. you were asleep on robbyâs chest, while he was watching the show. âi love you robby,â you mumble tiredly, cuddling into his chest more. robby tenses at your words, but he smiles and places a kiss on your forehead, quietly repeating the phrase back to you.   Â
one: when you visit him in jail
you sat down at the table, waiting for robby to come out. you were fidgeting with the tupperware of brownies you brought for him. even though you had come to visit robby multiple times, you always got nervous waiting for him. the door opened and teenage boys were walking into the room. your eyes immediately searching for robby. he saw you right away, and walked over to your table.
âhi robby,â you say quietly once he sits down. robby gives you a small smile, âhi baby.â it was quiet for a minute, but you quickly broke the silence by shoving the tupperware container towards him. âi made you brownies. the snoop dogg ones because theyâre your favorite,â you explain and robby smiles widely at you, grabbing your hand that was resting on the table.Â
âthanks. iâll eat them as soon as i can,â he says truthfully. âare you okay? they havenât been bugging you have they?â you ask him quietly, looking over his face for any bruises or cuts. robby chuckles at how worried you are. âiâm fine y/n, i promise. you donât need to worry about me,â robby says and you roll your eyes at him. âi worry because i care and because i love you,â you answer, casually slipping that three word phrase in there. robby sits there in shock for a minute before an even bigger smile takes over his face. âi love you too y/n,â he says, squeezing your hand. a smile as big as robbyâs takes over your face too.Â
âso whatâs been going on?â robby asks and you immediately jump into a ramble about the newest book that youâve been reading. meanwhile, robby just smiles, proud of himself for finally telling you how he feels.Â
taglist: @iwantahockeyhimbo @estupidteenâ @funprincess101â @mrfeenyisswag Â
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