#holiday fortnight | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nicohii · 5 months ago

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fortnight.

Pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt to Comfort, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers (as usual)

Summary: you love him, it's ruining your life. inspired by taylor swift's fortnight.

Sometimes you think to yourself how you caused your own misery. It's not like anybody forced you to come clean with your feelings with him. And it's not his responsibility to return your feelings either. You promised yourself you'll tell him and deal with the consequences maturely - that went well- because now you can't even be in the same room as him. Trying to escape the corridors the moment you see a flash of white hair.

What can you do? There's still a sliver of pride in you that doesn't want to show him how fucking miserable you are in the aftermath because god knows he'll feel so bad about it and that in turn will be another weight in your chest.

Your phone buzzes against the lacquered wood. Vibrations echoing against the smooth surface, flashing a familiar number that you practically memorized by heart already, yet had not called for a while. You let the call die out on its own not bothering to pick up.

Ever since that honest, rejection, per se, a rift started to form, try as you might not to. It's your fault and you know it, but you want all your feelings to at least settle down before properly facing him again. Damn, you fucking loved that dude since you can remember, why couldn't you just have swallowed it down.

"I'm really sorry. I think... I just don't see us being more than the best of friends, you know? "

The way he said it didn't help too. His golden eyes were actually pleading, like he didn't want to even say what he said. His breathing uneven. His hands, as big as they were, fidgeting. He has that look on his face like he wants to take back all he said just because of the look on your face. So you put on your face together in a way that will make him at ease. Make him believe that it's fine (it fucking hurts a lot). And you pat his back (it stings).

"I understand, we'll always be the best of friends."

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

Life goes on after that. A few years maybe. Some friends go on to other countries, some friends go back to rest roots and settle. He goes on to compete in a few Olympic games and international competitions.

He still calls from time to time, tells you how he's doing. You see some tabloid news about him, different models. They look good together. He looks better. He's an Olympian, of course he does.

You realized that in the moments that everyone had been moving on, you're stuck. Spending the years being faithful even if there is nothing promised, following Koutarou's footsteps, that you have dedicated everything for him; that you have forgotten what it's like to live not for him.

That plans for Koutarou aside, you don't have a single plan for yourself. In a desperate cry in a temple on a quiet holiday, begging for a sign, bargaining, and promising to listen (as if that rejection wasn't a clear message enough back when you were in high school); a call for a work overseas arrives. You take it without any hesitation. Taking the earliest flight, taking whatever life you have left here, very few shreds of dignity, and a somehow healing heart.

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

He still reaches out, small talks, asking how you have been. You learn how to forget replying. It's work, it's the time zone. Little by little. Maybe life isn't all about him.

You still see news, less tabloids and papparazzi shots, and just more on campaigns and game updates. Tetsuro and Akaashi rarely mention him too aside from necessary.

In the rare days where he managed to catch you online, and you respond, he mentions the idea of a visit when you mention having no time to go home. It has been a long time.

"Maybe I can go see you? "

You're far too busy to hear any undertones than the usual him. Innocent Kou, you muse, and rest assured that whatever you might respond will just be taken as it is and no hard feelings.

"I'm not sure Kou. Depends on the schedule. I may not be here always."

(You're on remote work and flexitime but he didn't need to know that)

It's a decline he knows. Sucks really, he was hoping you'd say yes. You usually say yes.

What happened to 'You're always have a home here' ?

What happened to 'You're always welcome here'?

Sometimes, in the days when he feels a little bit to much, overstimulated and tired of the life of fame he has chosen, his mind automatically thinks of you. Phone involuntarily in hand and scrolling to a familiar number. Tries to call it (even if overseas call cost a lot, and that's fine he can pay) but feel a pang of something unexplained when the call is not picked up.

"Oh yeah, yeah I get it. It's fine you must be busy."

He tries to counter himself. Bullshit, he can book a tour if you were busy, you can go to work, and he'll wait for you to get home, nothing wrong with that.

You tells him you need to go. That you can continue to catch up soon. But you both know if he doesn't start, nowadays, you never do.

Maybe that's what distance does, he thinks.

Maybe that's what trying to get away from the masochistic tendencies for him meant, you think.

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

It's the off season months. News of MSBY players not renewing their contracts has been dominating the news. Hinata Shoyo opts to play for Brazil. Sakusa opts to sign with Italia. No news of other starting players -- and Bokuto is still at a cross roads. He has a few options-- to renew of course, a position with another European team (Italy with Kageyama and Sakusa; Poland with Ushijima) , and an offer from a country where you, but you don't need to know that too. No one does.

He remembers asking his sister. If she has been in contact with you. Apparently she does. He is not that dumb to not be able to put two and two together.

"Maybe she's making her own peace, you know?" She lightly says.

Still, he stares at their conversations, not really as long as they were before, only sometimes when you wished him luck. Other than that, it's like... What? One sentence answers before you say good bye for work?

He wants to feel betrayed and mad. Was it really that unforgiveable not being able to reciprocate to be punished like this? But is he really the only reason? People just drift apart, he guesses.

"I just thought it would be a better closure than this. Like I'm not some dude you just cut off that easily, because we're different", he types one day, out of frustration when he saw Akaashi's phone screen notify of a familiar number.

He deletes the message on his own phone before he even has the balls to send it.

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

Life is better. You tried to bargain, got what you wanted and you're doing better. Walking alone with zero thoughts but dinner is refreshing. How long was it? You hate to admit it, but, you're starting to forget his face now or at least the little details of it. You can't forget that day of course, but it doesn't really hurt like before. You've learned to forgive, you love him of course, you never won't, but you've also made peace with it. You're here if he needs you, he's there when you do, you'll stay whatever he wants to be and life will be life.

You spoke to soon apparently.

Because the oxygen feels a little too scarce, your chest banging when you see a familiar mountaineering backpack and tufts of hair facing away from you and checking back and forth on what seems to be an address from his phone. He's bouncing on the balls of his feet in front of your apartment door. He's bigger; still has his passport on his hands.

He just got here. That's obvious.

"Kou? " You softly call and he turns around. Eyes wide, and you hug your groceries tighter, gripping your keys tighter. He's here. You want to deny it but the swelling in your chest becomes obvious. You miss him. A lot. So much.

"Hi." Is what he only says before pocketing his passport in a desperate attempt to move because your eyes are freezing him. Maybe he shouldn't be here. Maybe he should have called first.

"I just.. I was just passing b- I really didn't think... I... Japan has really been overwhelming."

There is a sound of defeat and sadness in his voice and you feels sorry for him. But how about you? He overwhelms you but at the same time, you know that deep down you would have done the same. You place your groceries down the hall and open your arms to him, he looks like he's about to cry, the wetness in his eyes are obvious as he goes to you, trying to tuck himself in you. You feel wetness in the sides of your neck and a sniffle. He almost squeezes the life out of you, breathing you in. There's a lot of things he wants to say but all that comes out are hiccups muffled by the collars of your shirt. He feels you hug him back tighter, trying to soothe his back and rocking him back side to side.

It goes on for a couple more minutes before he subsides, but he doesn't budge. You gently pry him off of you, his face in both of your hands, his eyes red, puffy and tired looking at you tenderly,

"I get it. Come on in. "

#bokuto angst #bokuto koutaro x reader #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto #hq bokuto #boku no academia #bokuto x reader #angst

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tsmerch · 5 months ago

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I LOVE YOU IT'S RUINING MY LIFE BOXY CROPPED CREWNECK (x)

$70.00

#taylor swift #taylor swift merch #ttpd #the tortured poets department #the tortured poets department merch #ttpd holiday essentials collection #crewneck #fortnight #ts merch #Relaxed cropped fit. 75% cotton 25% polyester #ttpd merch

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onlyangel4 · 8 months ago

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fortnight. ln4. smau. part one.

lando norris x model reader

request: please can i request a fic with lando norris and smau with a theme of the song fortnight? maybe she’s a model and neither of them live in the country they’re visiting so they agree to have a good two weeks before leaving but they don’t want it to end? sorry if this is too much just have fun if you do take this and thank you! 🩷

in which it was only ever meant to be a two week thing but both you and lando start thinking about forever.

author's note: this will have multiple parts !

faceclaim: lily rose depp

part two

celebgossip

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 23,499 others

celebgossip: celebrities are just like us and need a holiday. and for the past few years morroco has become the destination of choice. these three were spotted there today. sabrina carpenter (and barry keoghan), f1 driver lando norris and super model it girl y/n y/ln

view all 182 comments

user1: aren't y/n and sabrina friends?

user2: they are ! i wouldn't be surprised if they met up later on in the holiday

user3: i hope we get some content of y/n in that fit because she looks so fucking good

user4: oh my god lando looks so good

user5: booking tickets to morroco rn

y/ninsta posted a story

written: had to ask a stranger to take this picture because i am here alone but the photo opportunity was just too good

y/insta posted a story

written: photo guy told me he had an idea for where to take my picture and boy did he deliver

f1wags

liked by user6, user7, user8 and 12,381 others

f1wags: we here at f1wags can not believe that we are writing this. lando norris has been spotted out in morroco with long time celebrity crush model y/n y/ln. lando has been quoted saying that y/n is his biggest celebrity crush for years and we can't believe that they have finally met and are exploring morroco together

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user6: the idea of them falling in love and then having to go to other sides of the world really hurts my heart

user7: they would be such a perfect couple shame it is just a holiday romance

user8: the matching outfits i could be sick

y/ninsta posted a story

written: this was taken seconds before he tripped and almost drowned us both

landonorris posted a story

written: i could get used to this

ln4fan

liked by user10, user11, user12 and 24,510 others

ln4: it has been confirmed that y/n is flying home tomorrow so it is time to celebrate the y/n lando summer of 2024 by looking at all of the cute pictures that this holiday has given us

view all 512 comments

user10: i am going to miss them so much

user11: i hope they keep in touch

user12: the hottest couple fr

y/nupdates posted a story

written: a somber looking y/n back in new york today. i fear that y/nlando is over

#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 fandom #formula 1 smau #formula one smau #formula 1 #ln4 smau #ln4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris smau #lando x you #lando x reader #lando x y/n

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toomuchracket · 1 year ago

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if you're too shy (office nerd!matty x reader fluff)

in which the other music journalist at the magazine you work at is the cutest weird boy you've ever met. enjoy <3

in hindsight, coming back from a two-week holiday the same day the magazine goes to print was a misguided idea.

your editor-in-chief tells you as much when you enter the office, pulling you into a half hug. “don't get me wrong, it's lovely to see you,” she says, scraping her hair back into a bun and securing it with a pencil. “but you'll be doing nothing all day, i'm afraid. maybe some last minute proofing, but i think everyone in nightlife and reviews has been alright. double-check with marianne.”

you do just that, weaving your way through people running copy and coffee between departments until you reach your own. it's mercifully quiet compared to everywhere else, the ten or so people dotted at desks around the sunlit room looking at their laptops and wearing headphones; you actually have to flick marianne on the back of the head to get her to notice you. “oi.”

“who the- oh, hi!” marianne's face softens when she sees it's you, and she stands to pull you into one of her infamously bone-crushing hugs before pulling back to get a good look. “well, you look annoyingly well-rested. but i suppose a fortnight in a spanish villa will do that to you. bitch.”

“i had a great time, thanks for asking,” you grin. “how’s everything been with you? stressful, without your star reporter?”

“well, for starters, you've been succeeded for that title.”

you frown only half-jokingly, scanning the room to try and guess which of your colleagues has replaced you as marianne's unofficial favourite. “who the fuck…?”

“language,” she lightly slaps your arm, in spite of the fact she was just about to say the same thing, then smiles suspiciously. “and i’m talking about our newest recruit.”

the brewing annoyance in your stomach dissipates immediately, replaced by a flock of tiny butterflies. “oh,” you try to keep your smile to a minimum. “that's okay. i like him.”

marianne sees right through you, though. she rolls her eyes. “oh, you would.”

“what?”

she sighs, motioning for you to lower your voice and modifying her own to a whisper. “he’s a curly-haired pretty-eyed vaguely scrawny white boy. you'd like him even if he didn't think the sun shone out of your arse.”

“marianne!” you hiss. “he does not!”

“don’t act all indignant, he has literally looked over at you once every thirty seconds since you walked in - and don't look, idiot, you'll freak him out. we need him on the ball, today of all days,” she rubs her eyes. “but yes, he’s very good at his job. i like him, even if i've no idea what in the world he goes off on his tangents about. great writer.”

“yeah, he is,” you risk a glance towards him, but all you can see is the back of his laptop - covered in stickers for things you can only name half of - and dark curls peeking out from the side of his headphones. “i like the references. different perspective from me, innit? that's why we hired him, after all.”

“who's we? you were too pissed off that i was hiring another music critic to agree to be part of the interviewing panel.”

you'd love to disagree, but you really were pissed when marianne and the other editors told you they were expanding the nightlife section. it didn't matter that it was in response to an increase in funding and readership, with the magazine switching to a print format as well as the online edition you'd contributed to since its creation - your fierce independence and pride meant you didn't take the news well, made you think it was an issue with your competence and writing ability that meant you'd be getting a new colleague. but once you were reassured that you'd still get to keep the Big Gigs and restaurant reviews to yourself, you were slightly more agreeable to the idea.

and once you actually met the new guy, stumbling over both his words and his own feet as he introduced himself, you couldn't quite remember why you'd been opposed in the first place.

“well,” you say, snapping back into reality. “thank goodness i'm over it now.”

“because you want to get under him?”

“no!” you stand indignantly, and then grin. “on top, maybe.”

“good grief,” your boss shakes her head. “don't you go bringing it up to him - excuse the pun - before this edition goes to the printers,” she points at you as you move to walk away. “or talking to him at all until then, actually, you hear me? i love you, but you're a distraction to him, and he's my best journo.”

“he's not, but alright,” you pat her head as you walk back towards the door. “i'll be in the staff room if you need me. and i won't talk to anyone, mum, i promise.”

“i'm only five years older than you!”

“whatever you say!” you reply in a singsongy voice, giggling to yourself as you wander towards the sunny kitchen. the little radio on the windowsill is on, as it always is, and you nod along to the cure while you wait for the kettle to boil. once you've made a cuppa (and grabbed a slack handful of the chocolate digestives marianne always keeps the cupboard stocked with), you settle at the table with your laptop, typing out ideas for your next feature and doing your best not to think about the boy down the corridor you've been instructed not to talk to for the time being. for the most part, you succeed.

that is, until he walks into the staff room two hours later.

you frantically wipe your face of biscuit crumbs as he does, smiling as sweetly as you can for someone with no idea if she has chocolate on her teeth or not. “hi, matty. how are you?”

“oh, hi! i'm, uh, i'm alright,” matty smiles widely enough that his verbal emotional downplaying is blatant - still, he's so cute, beaming at you like that with his little sweater paws. he’s always in a jumper or cardigan or hoodie of some kind, and on more than one occasion in the three months you've known him, you've absolutely thought about literally cosying up into him instead of doing any work. “how was spain? and the wedding - it was a family wedding you were going to, yeah?”

“that's right,” it’s not a big deal, but you glow at the fact he remembered. or maybe it's the soft intent he looks at you with. “it was lovely, yeah. although - wait, have we gone to print?” you ask, suddenly recalling marianne's instructions. “i'm not keeping you from work?”

matty's curls bounce as he shakes his head, light hitting off the metal hoop in his earlobe (that you're only mildly obsessed with). “we've gone. i'm just in here to get my lunch,” he pulls a tupperware from the fridge, cheeks rosy as he waves it. “made some soup last night.”

he makes his own soup. the thought is so endearing that it takes everything in you not to sigh; you settle for a smile. “carrot and coriander?”

“you can tell from one glance?”

you shrug. “s'my favourite.”

“really?” matty's face seems to light up. “mine too,” he busies himself with putting the tupperware in the microwave, taking his time pressing buttons and turning dials before looking bashfully at you. “so, you had a nice time at the wedding, then?”

“i did, thank you. do you, um,” you start, suddenly shy. “d'you want to see some photos from it, while you're waiting for the soup to heat up?”

he nods back just as shyly, sitting quite awkwardly on the seat next to yours; while you open your photos app, matty twists a stray curl around his finger, and the movement seems to send your nerves into vibration as well as the molecules in the air. with a series of shallow breaths, you locate the folder of the wedding pictures and set your phone on the table. “feel free to flick through them, if you like.”

“thank you,” matty sits forward, carefully swiping through the album. you lean on your elbow, doing your best not to beam adoringly at the way he looks intently at each photo before moving to the next. “the venue is really beautiful.”

“yeah, it was stunning.”

the next picture is one of you in your bridesmaid dress, taken by your sister the morning of the wedding. you watch, slightly heartsick, as matty's mouth falls open as he looks at you; the feeling worsens when he tentatively does the same thing in real life, those pretty eyes of his sparkling as he smiles softly. “so are you. really. like,” he looks down at the photo again, shaking his head slightly before looking back up at you. “that colour is beautiful on you. honest. you look incredible.”

“thank you,” the words come out in a whisper, and the two of you silently smile at each other for a moment until you clear your throat. “um, there are more of the official pics on my instagram, let me… actually, do you have my private account?”

“oh, no,” matty shakes his head again - god, you love the way his hair moves. “just the one for your writing.”

“well,” you tap on the app with an almost-imperceptibly shaky finger. “that's the username there, if you'd like to follow. no pressure, of course. don’t wanna fuck up your algorithms or anything.”

your nervous chuckle at the end of the sentence turns to a giggle when you see matty's face as you share your username; it lights up so much that you'd be forgiven for thinking he'd just won the lottery. he pulls his own phone out and taps away at it. “you don't have to follow me back, by the way,” his cheeks flush a deep red, a beautiful colour. “m'not posting anything interesting.”

doubtful. he might be one of the most interesting people you've ever met, all talent and sweetness and a wealth of cultural understanding wrapped up in a sweater and a pretty face. “no, i'd like to.”

“alright. thank you,” matty's cheeks seem to get even redder as he watches you hit follow back, face twitching as though he’s trying to stop himself smiling too big. when the microwave dings, he all but skips over to it, almost tripping over the leg of his chair in a sweetly awkward way; he swears under his breath when he lifts the steaming container out, turning back sheepishly to look at you. “sorry.”

“don't worry,” you grin at him, feeling slightly bold. “i still think you're sweet when you swear.”

he giggles, and the noise makes your heart leap; in addition to being one of the most interesting people you think you've ever met, matty healy is without doubt the cutest. watching his lips pout in concentration as he stirs the soup and checks the temperature, you briefly imagine what they would feel like against your own, how he would be if the two of you were to kiss. just as giggly and endearingly awkward as he usually is, you think - eager to please, lips and tongue a little sloppy and unsure but enthusiastic enough for you not to mind, slightly unsure of where to put his hands so as to not make you uncomfortable… the scene is as clear as day in your head, and you really, really want to recreate it. you'd devour him right now if you could, the sweetheart.

and then, matty reaches up to get a bowl from the shelf, the hem of his shirt goes with him, and your want to devour him suddenly takes on a less pg-rated meaning than it did a second ago.

he has a fucking hip tattoo.

you’re pretty sure it's only a sliver of the full design you can actually see, but the hints of red and blue and black ink and the glimpse of his happy trail are enough to fuck you up completely. as you register what you're seeing - what you're discovering about the seemingly buttoned-up, shy, unassuming-to-everyone-but-you matty - your breath catches in your throat, forcing you to cough quite obviously on the mouthful of lukewarm tea you'd just taken. one cough turns into another, and you clap a hand over your mouth to make your tattoo reaction attack the least obvious it can be.

still, the ever-perceptive man across the kitchen notices, running over to crouch in front of you with concern filling those beautiful eyes of his. “you alright, darling?”

darling?! no, you most certainly aren't alright.

but you can't tell matty that, so you stick to gesturing to let him know you'll reply once you've managed to swallow your tea. “i am, yeah, thanks. tea just, y'know, went down the wrong way.”

matty tilts his head. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you smile, slightly embarrassed. “really. thank you, though.”

“of course,” he smiles in return, knee brushing lightly against your leg as he steadies himself; he looks down, eyes widening as he registers how close the two of you are, and quickly stands. “i'd better, y'know, get my lunch.”

you nod, despite the strange loneliness settling into your bones at the lack of him next to you. “i can head back to the office, if you want peace?”

“no, no, please stay!” matty all but gasps, turning to look at you like a deer caught in headlights - he clears his throat, blinking a few times before speaking again. “please don't feel the need to leave on my account, i mean. or feel obliged to talk, really - i was just going to read.”

“you're sure i won't be a bother to you?”

matty smiles warmly, shaking his head. “that'll never happen.”

christ.

“okay,” you whisper, winking at him - and savouring the little giggle that bubbles out of him when you do - before turning back to your laptop.

matty settles at the table a minute or so later, pulling a paperback from his back pocket and holding it open quite attractively with one hand. you peek over the rim of your laptop at him every so often, never for more than a couple of seconds at a time; partially to avoid the mortification of him catching you, but mostly because if you look at him any longer you know your mind will wander back to that fucking hip tattoo of his, and what it might look like completely visible to you, and what it might feel like under your lips, and what noises matty might make if you slowly dragged your tongue all over it before moving to the side to lick a wavy line up the length of his-

enough. he's literally right there.

the room feels hot, all of a sudden, your cheeks flushing and throat drying to match. on only slightly shaky legs, you pick up your waterbottle and head to the water fountain, crouching as best you can to fill it. even though he stays silent, you can feel matty’s eyes on you from across the room, but it doesn't bother you or freak you out in the way that other men ogling you at a water fountain would - it's quite obvious that matty has some sort of more-than-platonic affection for you, but his gaze has always been one of appreciation and awe when it comes to you, not the predatory one you've come to expect from men. and yet, his is the only male gaze that makes you feel slightly nervous, unused to being looked at with such reverence and tenderness by an attractive boy; in complete contrast, though, it also makes you lower your guard, pull down the bricks from the wall you've built around your heart, and allow yourself to actually feel something for matty, for once. something good, honest, promising.

matty looks up from his book as you sit down, smiling pleasantly. he opens his mouth as if to talk, and then closes it immediately, shaking his head slightly.

this intrigues you. “you okay, matty?”

“hmm? oh, yeah, i was just thinking,” his cheeks go a shade of pink you would buy in blush form if you could find it. “when you were first talking about the wedding… you said although, and then we got off-topic slightly. what, um, what were you going to say, if you don't mind me asking?”

“oh, right,” you wrack your brain, doing your best to not get distracted by how cute you find his perception. “i think i was going to say something about how, as good as it all was, there's nothing like a family wedding to remind you of how single you are.”

his jaw falls open. “you… you don't have a boyfriend? wait, sorry,” he blinks. “or a partner?”

you shake your head, biting the inside of your lip to stop yourself smiling. “no boyfriend, no. and thus, constantly advised by a never-ending flock of aunts that i should get one so i could get married.”

“christ,” matty winces. “yeah, my cousin's getting married in a couple of months - not looking forward to everyone asking me when i'm going to meet a nice girl and settle down, as if i can answer.”

no girlfriend. how interesting. “you're single? really?”

he rolls his eyes, still smiling at you. “be serious. course i am.”

“i am being serious! that surprises me,” you lean on one elbow, tilting your head to look at him. “you're lovely, matty.”

matty’s eyes widen, and he blinks adorably a few times before he smiles shyly again. “thank you. i think the same about you.”

“you do?”

he simply nods, total sincerity in those pretty eyes.

you feel your cheeks warm, but you make no effort to hide it. “thank you.”

matty shrugs. “just telling the truth, darling,” he looks panicked when he realises what he's said. “sorry for calling you that, twice, it just-”

“i like it, matty, it's alright,” you say reassuringly. “and i like-”

“oh, thank god you're both here,” marianne bursts into the room, carrying her laptop; you frown petulantly at her for ruining your moment, but shuffle your chair round closer to matty's so she can sit at the table too. “something weird’s happening.”

matty squints. “what d'you mean by weird?”

marianne pushes her laptop towards you both. “there's overlap in your planned reviews - the band you're going to see at the end of next week, matthew, have just been announced as the opener for the next Big Gig. i need to know how we want to go about this.”

“oh,” he looks at you. “i don't mind if you want to just review them as part of yours.”

you're shaking your head vehemently before he even finishes talking. “no, that's not fair,” you tap your lips with your index finger the way you always do when you concentrate, trying to ignore the glow within your body when you see matty looking at them from the corner of your eye; inspiration strikes, and you turn to marianne. “matty could come with me, couldn't he? if he reviews their headline gig, and then he does a follow-up review of their opening set in the Big Gig feature - we could just do a joint byline, work together on it.”

both of them turn to look at you in slight shock. marianne is the first to speak, her words trickling out slowly as she processes the fact you've just agreed to let someone else work on a Big Gig for the first time. “you're… happy with that?”

“if matty is, yeah,” you turn to him, smiling. “sound alright?”

he beams. “more than. thank you.”

“of course,” you turn back to the boss. “there you go. sorted.”

she sighs, relieved. “thank goodness for that. alright,” she stands, picking up her laptop and heading back to the main office. “i'll coordinate press passes. thanks for making that simple - you're both stars.”

“anytime!” you call after her, before turning back to matty. “you're sure you're happy to do this? i realise i've just given you more work to do, but…”

he laughs, a beautiful sound. “nah, i don't mind. also,” he shuffles in his seat, bashful again. “i actually have a spare ticket for the first show, if you'd like it - bought it before i saw it was on the review roster. doesn't seem fair that i get to go to two gigs while you only get one, i think. i mean, no pressure, obviously, but the offer's there.”

god, he’s so fucking cute. how could you ever say no to him? “i'd like that a lot, matty, thank you,” you beam at him. “i think us working together is going to be a lot of fun.”

matty beams back just as enthusiastically. “i think so too.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #office nerd au #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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muzaktomyears · 23 days ago

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Lennon and McCartney — pop’s greatest bromance

Ian Leslie in his tremendous new book, John & Paul, explores their ‘romantic relationship’, the secret of the success of the Beatles

Paul McCartney and John Lennon in 1964

‘Does the world need yet another book on the Beatles?” a review in the now-defunct Q magazine asked in 1991. All these years and hundreds of volumes later, the question is still more pertinent. Every detail has surely been documented. “There is a vast amount of information available,” Ian Leslie acknowledges in his book John and Paul. He believes, though, that there’s room for further work.

“The gaps in the literature are perhaps now less about what happened than why,” he says. Remarkably, he’s right, and this is a wonderful contribution to the ever-growing Beatles library.

The story starts in 1957 with 16-year-old John Lennon inviting Paul McCartney, a year and a half his junior, to join his skiffle group after a performance at a suburban fête. The journey from there — via Hamburg, the Cavern Club, London and America — to global domination, and symbolising the cultural and social revolution of the 1960s, is overly familiar, but there’s a freshness to this telling, a wonder at the sheer implausibility and novelty of it all.

Leslie is good too on some of the key songs and records, analysing them with insight and gratifyingly non-technical language. He acknowledges the profound influence of doo-wop on the vocal arrangements, notes Lennon’s unusual use of iambic pentameter in a pop song (Tomorrow Never Knows) and celebrates the old-fashioned importance of the piano to McCartney: “For him, it’s the sound of family and friends, or a crowded pub.”

But the appeal of the book is not the musicology so much as the psychology, even the mythology. At its heart is the intense bond between Lennon and McCartney, somewhere between friends, brothers and lovers, “a relationship that isn’t sexual but is romantic”. To the love of music that brought them together was added a shared experience of bereavement: McCartney’s mother died in 1956, Lennon’s was killed in a car crash two years later.

They were “two damaged romantics with jagged edges that happened to fit”, discovering the joy of creation with “the arrogance of the damaged”. Despite the tragedies, the early sections of the book are soaked in exuberant fun, encapsulated by the sighting of the two young men in jeans, leather jackets and bowler hats on their way to a fortnight’s holiday in Paris.

Musically, the group they put together was a strange arrangement. The convention was for a singer and a backing group, not for two frontmen, but Leslie presents them almost as a single entity. We see them early on — banished from the house by Lennon’s Aunt Mimi — huddled face-to-face in the front porch, “close enough to feel the other’s breath”, as they play guitars and try to work out vocal harmonies and how to write songs. It’s an image that recurs throughout.

On stage they often faced each other across a microphone, the mirroring reinforced by McCartney being left-handed, so their guitars pointed in the same direction. “We had this fantastic thing,” McCartney said in 1967 of their first shared experience of taking LSD. “Incredible really, just looked into each other’s eyes, just staring.” A couple of years later, as they worked up a new song, Two of Us, again standing face-to-face, Lennon commented: “It’s like you and me are lovers.”

Observers talk of how the two seemed to be almost telepathic, and McCartney spoke of their “heightened awareness” of what the other was thinking. And all the while, they were breaking new ground, musically and commercially. As a story of male friendship, it verges on the epic.

McCartney and Lennon play the Cavern Club

So too the group’s ending. The passion of the partnership cooled a little when they stopped touring and were no longer in such close physical proximity. Lennon’s use of LSD made him increasingly passive, while McCartney’s energy and cultural curiosity were unabated. As men will, they sought refuge in nostalgia, striving to recapture what they knew was being lost, and in the last years of the 1960s their work together began looking backwards, to their childhood, to Britain’s history, to the uncomplicated enthusiasm of early rock’n’roll.

It wasn’t enough. Lennon was haunted by the elusive brilliance of Yesterday, a solo McCartney track that demonstrated that there was one Beatle who could stand alone. Traumatised by parental abandonment in childhood, Lennon feared a further rejection. In a pre-emptive strike, he decided that he’d dance with another and attached himself to the conceptual artist Yoko Ono, who introduced him to heroin, which made him still more passive.

In April 1970 McCartney announced that he had left the group, although he was only confirming what had been known for months. “Maybe it was a marriage that had to end,” Lennon reflected later. If so, it was largely because of his insecurity when the power balance tilted in favour of the younger man — one of humanity’s great storylines, as old as Cain and Abel (and as modern as Gordon Brown and Tony Blair).

Much of the energy of the book dissipates in the wake of the split, as it did with the music. But then comes the still shocking murder of Lennon in 1980, at the age of 40. The account here, which focuses on McCartney’s reaction to the loss, is powerful and moving, so thoroughly invested have we become in their relationship.

This is a tremendous book, shedding new light on the story. Leslie’s structure is to centre each of his 43 chapters on a song, in the manner of a blog or a podcast series. It works, capturing the breathless pace of the Beatles’ career while marvelling at the invention and creativity of the art. There is some lovely writing — Penny Lane ends with “a little moan of feedback” — and some equally lovely overwriting. As their future manager Brian Epstein goes to see them at the Cavern for the first time, we’re told: “It must have been like descending into his own id.”

That review in Q answered its own question of whether we needed another Beatles book: “Almost certainly not, and yet you can’t help being fascinated …” This one really is fascinating.

(source)

#so far so romantic (and absolutely non-sexual!!!!!) mclennon i guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#i'm sorry but i'm screaming at the brian bit lmao #also the gordon brown/tony blair comparison ghjdshgkds #john&paul #books

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yailtsv · 3 months ago

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i’ve had some people asking about fics so here’s everything in my drafts and in my notes app

drafts: (have a post ready, just need to write the fic)

sick - p and a take care of blakely while she’s sick requested

pretty girl - p and a take time off school to go see the #2 espn pick after azzi requested

2 girlfriends? - p and a ask blakely out requested

secret admirer - r has a secret admirer and that so called secret admirer just happens to be her best friend requested

secret - p and fudd!reader date behind azzi’s back requested

i got all i need - p and a decided to go out for all holidays for rory including valentine’s day

state championship - the bueckers and fudd family go support their granddaughter/niece at her state championship requested

basketball practice - paige watches saylor’s first basketball practice back after being grounded from it for two weeks requested

i can’t do this again - blakely gets hurt during a game against the connecticut sun with the whole uconn wbb team in audience

valentines getaway - p and a take their disney obsessed girlfriend to disney world

jealous jealous girl (smut version) - 🤗 requested

someone to stay - juju watkins x gf!reader

notes: (do not have a post ready for them: they just sit in my notes app until i write the ones in my drafts)

gf!reader/gf!oc:

x reader:

Sick - Jana x Reader requested

spoiled - Jana x Reader requested

Period - P x Gf!reader

Clingy - P x Gf!reader

oakley - nothing yet!

paige’s daughter:

x reader - nothing yet!

willow - nothing yet!

lilah - nothing yet!

paige’s sister

x reader - nothing yet!

taylor - nothing yet!

kaleigha:

Big East Media Day - pt2 to senior night

Sick - kaleigha is sick and paige takes on her big sister roll and cares for her

pazzi (poly)

x reader - nothing yet!

blakely - all in my drafts

pazzi’s daughter

x reader - nothing yet!

rory:

Bowling w/the huskies- cute moments with p&a + the team

Off Day Mornings - p&a’s morning with a 10 month old

Gaming cuddles - fortnight cuddles!

Sick - rory gets sick at paige and azzi help her

WNBA Draft - paige takes rory to the 2025 draft with her

Ro’s first steps - rory takes her first steps at a uconn game requested

saylor:

What is going on with you?! - Saylor comes home in the evening drunk

No car for a month - P & A take Saylor’s car and keys away from her, after she snuck out while the were asleep requested

Why? - Azzi finds a vape in Saylor’s room requested

big sister - saylor finds out she’s gonna be a big sister requested

i’m sorry, WHAT? - paige and azzi get a call from saylor’s school saying they found her smoking weed requested

bad influence - saylor brings her bf home and p&a think he’s a bad influence (he’s the person that gave her the weed) requested

transferring - flashback fic to when paige and azzi told saylor she was moving schools requested

breaking point - saylor finally breaks requested

acting out - paige and azzi figure out what��s going on requested

you’re not a disappointment- paige and azzi get saylor to talk and finally what’s going on in her head requested

pazzi’s sister

x reader - nothing yet!

avia:

i don’t like me - paige and azzi find the younger fudd crying in the bathroom requested

platonic x reader/oc

x reader - nothing yet!

x oc - nothing yet!

new ocs/ multi series:

stepmom!paige + mom!azzi : don’t have a name yet MULTI PART?

azzi’s sister / samantha logan : don’t have a name yet OC

bueckers!reader x juju watkins : MULTI PART?

i know a lot of people aren’t gonna read this post but if you have any last minute requests send them in (it can be for team members, paige, pazzi’s daughter anything on my masterlist)

and if you want to be on the tag list for everything or just a certain group of fics lmk

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #paige bueckers x sister!oc #paige bueckers x fem!reader #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fic #azzi x reader #paige x azzi #pazzi x daughter!oc #pazzi x oc #pazzi fics #uconn x fem reader #uconn x reader #yailtsv works—★

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