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withwritersblock · 2 months ago

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Oh! Darling pt. 5

~Oh! Darling by The Beatles~

Author's Note: somewhat requested lol! I was rewatching the Faceoff series and reminded myself that someone asked for something like this so here you go! Anyways, hopefully more for this series coming up. Summary: Quinn's Faceoff episode Warnings: Canucks losing against Edmonton lol Word Count: 1,630 Quinn Hughes x fm!reader

Masterlist

It completely slipped his mind that he had agreed to film for the Face Off series until he started seeing the advertisements for it everywhere. Now, himself and his girlfriend were sitting together and watching it together. Ellie was in his lap, drinking a bottle.

They already watched the first few episodes of the series and he was shocked on how it actually ended up looking. The series was actually entertaining. But now it was his episodes and he was terrified. He agreed to do it because they begged him to do it. His story was special because he was a young captain and a new dad.

��Do you want anything to drink?” she asked as she stood up from the couch, jogging towards the kitchen. He glanced down towards the little girl in his arms before he looked back towards Y/N.

“Water’s fine, love,” he muttered as he looked into his daughter’s sleepy eyes as she continued to finish the bottle. “I’m pressing play,” he let out as he reached toward the remote.

“Wait!” she called out as she took a hold of a soda and a water bottle. He chuckled as he pressed play anyway. “Hey!” she let out while laughing as she jogged towards the couch. Cautiously, she placed the bottle of water beside him and she kept her soda in her hand. He chuckled as he pulled the bottle from Ellie’s mouth. He brought her up and began to delicately pat her back.

Instantly, once he saw himself on the screen, his face scrunched up. “Oh god,” he muttered.

Y/N grinned widely as she saw him on the screen, “Oh stop, look how cute you are,” she said as she inched towards him. Delicately, she tapped her hand against the top of his thigh.

On the screen, he started cooking and talking about his journey of being captain. “Probably read 20 to 25 books this year because I felt at the start of the year that with becoming captain, it was a lot for me-” he explained on the screen. Y/N lips fell into a pout.

Saying that it was a lot for him was an understandment. He was overwhelmed from the moment he was given the C. He came home that morning after the conversation with Rick and told her that he was becoming captain. At first, it was exciting and he was confident that he could do a good job. But as the preseason went on, he was shy and nervous. But as he explained in the episode, he started to grow into it.

“What was it like having this new role on the team and this new role in life?” the interviewer asked. Quinn tossed his head back and laughed.

“Definitely been a hard year but I wouldn’t change a single thing about it,” he explained before running his fingers through his hair. “It was really difficult because it was hard being away from my girlfriend; because obviously pregnancy is really hard but she was great,” he explained.

The screen started showing clips of Quinn and newborn Ellie. Y/N was sitting on the couch beside Ellen as quinn was holding Ellie against his chest. She was only a few weeks old when the camera crew was there.

“Your daughter was born a month before the playoffs, what was that like?” the interviewer continued.

Quinn smiled softly on the screen, his eyes lighting up in the process. “When we found out about Ellie, we realized pretty quickly that the timing wasn’t great. But our families were in town for the first few weeks. So while I was away on a roadie our families were here and supporting Y/N,” he took in a deep breath.

“You would’ve had no idea Quinn was a new dad. He was still Quinn Hughes and he was still a huge presence on and off the ice,” Rick said on the screen, a chuckle falling from his lips. “He wanted to talk about his daughter all of the time but you could tell that if he did, it would break his heart a little bit,” he explained.

Quinn clenched his jaw as he shifted his gaze down towards his daughter. Y/N pouted her lips as she reached her hand over and ran her fingers through his hair.

“But that’s why we chose him as captain. He can seperate his personal life from being on the ice. He doesn’t let it effect what he does and that’s what you need from a captain. But you know that even if he didn’t let it effect him, he was constantly thinking about his girls,” Rick continued.

Quinn smiled softly as he continued running his hand across Ellie’s back. “Can we move on to Trouba or something,” Quinn mumbled as he looked towards Y/N.

The screen continued to show a smiley Quinn in the locker room and then back to him in his apartment with Y/N and Ellie. It stayed on that moment for a few seconds before it shifted to Trouba in New York.

“Let me see her,” Y/N muttered. Quinn nodded as he lifted Ellie from his chest and cautiously handed her over to Y/N. Quinn shifted his body to the side as he scanned Y/N’s features. “Did you know Rick said those things?” she asked, meeting his eye.

Pursing his lips forward, he shook his head slightly. He leaned towards her, delicately kissing her. “Didn’t really talk about it,” he said with a shrug. She nodded as Ellie’s eyes were starting to get heavy in her arms.

“Pause it, I’m gonna put her down for her nap,” she said while standing up. He nodded as he reached beside him for the remote. He paused it as he watched her walk down the hall with Ellie in her arms.

He pulled his phone from his pocket to see a text from Jack asking if he watched the episode yet. He replied that he was working on it.

Ellie was always a fast sleeper so it only took a handful of minutes for her to fall asleep. Y/N returned to the living room, a grin on her lips. “Okay, press play,” she said as she sat down on the couch beside Quinn. He reached over and delicately rested his hand onto her furthest thigh. He ran his thumb across her thigh, she could barely feel it through the sweatpants fabric.

He pressed play and Trouba’s section started, showing off othe game that got them the President’s Trophy. Y/N leaned her head against his shoulder as they continued to relive the end of the season together. After a few more minutes of Jacob and Gabe’s segments it returned to Quinn.

Quinn was in Nashville with his parents for the first two games of the playoffs.

“What was it like when Quinn told you guys he was having a baby?” one of the producers asked them as they were sitting in a coffee shop. Quinn smiled as he looked towards his mom. Her eyes lit up and so did his dad.

“They called us on Facetime and Quinn just blurted it out like he was in trouble or something,” she said while laughing. Y/N looked towards Quinn and he shook his head while laughing.

“Telling news like that over the phone, kinda felt like I was,” Quinn joked out before they cut away to a clip of the Canucks and Predators series.

After several more minutes, it cut towards the series against Edmonton. The high paced play and the comeback they tried to make in game seven. Quinn took in a sudden breath as he watched the plays and heard himself talk on the ice. He always dissociates during the game to the point he never really remembers what he says or how the plays develop.

It panned toward the audience with Ellen, Jack, and Y/N watching the game. Her WAG jacket covering her frame, that she helped design. Jack’s arm was in a sling but he was leaning forward watching the game intensely. Ellen was emotionless as she shook her head slightly.

It showed the ending of the match, the celebrations by the Oilers and the sadness of the Canucks. Despite everything, Quinn still led the team in a salute to the crowd. She ran her hand across his upper back.

“It obviously didn’t end like how we wanted it to but it was good experience for many of us. This is the first playoff run for a lot of us, so now we have a lot of things to use a stepping stones,” he explained in the interview.

“Anything you would change?” the interviewer asked, nearly cringing at the question once she read it from the card.

“To win-” he said jokingly, “No, I mean-it’s been a tough year. Obviously, I am glad that I get to be home with my daughter for the next few months and not having to have the game on my mind for a few months. It would’ve been awesome to keep going, keep playing but uhm-I guess a good constellation prize was getting time with my girlfriend and our daughter,” he explained, smiling softly as he looked into the camera for the last time in the episode.

Y/N lips fell into a pout as she lifted her head to look towards Quinn. “I’m such a sap,” he let out. She chuckled as she leaned towards him, kissing his cheek delicately.

“That was really cute,” she whispered as he tilted his head to the side to meet her gaze. “Such a good captain,” she dragged her thumb across his jawline.

“Shush, you,” he whispered before he leaned towards her, kissing her softly.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #dad!quinn #nhl imagines #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl fic #hockey #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagines

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nevereverywhere · 1 year ago

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The »The End« guitar solos or "how to subtly show your love by playing guitar together, when talking about problems is apparently not a possibility" Quotes by Geoff Emerick, sound engineer and record producer: 'I know!' he (John) said mischievously, unwilling to let it go. 'Why don't we all play the solo? We can take turns and trade licks.' Long guitar solos with dueling lead guitarists were becoming the vogue at the time, so it was a suggestion that clearly had merit. George (Martin) looked dubious, but Paul not only embraced the idea but upped the ante further still: 'Better yet,' he said, 'why don't all three of us play it live?' Lennon loved the idea – for the first time in weeks I saw a real gleam in his eye. It didn't take long for John's enthusiasm to rub off on George Harrison, who finally got into the spirit of things. John, Paul and George looked like they had gone back in time, like they were kids again, playing together for the sheer enjoyment of it. More than anything, they reminded me of gunslingers, with their guitars strapped on, looks of steely-eyed resolve, determined to outdo one another. Yet there was no animosity, no tension at all �� you could tell they were simply having fun. The order was Paul first, then George, then John, and they went back and forth. They ran down their ideas a few times and before you knew it, they were ready to go. Their amps were lined up together and we recorded their parts on one track. You could really see the joy in their faces as they played; it was like they were teenagers again. One take was all we needed. The musical telepathy between them was mind-boggling. Incredibly, after just a brief period of rehearsal, they nailed it in a single take. When it was over, there was no backslapping or hugging – The Beatles rarely expressed themselves physically like that – but there were lots of broad grins. I guess there's also the possibility that, as they were performing the solo, they realized they might never get to play together again; perhaps they were viewing that moment as a poignant farewell. It was the first time in a long time that the three of them were actually playing together in the studio.

#sorry ringo #your drum solo is also perfect #but the guitar solo part of the end will always get to me #and in the end the love you take is equal to the love you make #the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #george harrison #ringo starr #beatles #abbey road #the end #1969 #guitar solo

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juniperskye · 1 year ago

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What are the chances?

Sneak peek: Aaron and you match on Tinder and have been messaging back and forth over the summer…who’d have thought that meet the teacher night would bring him face to face with the woman he’s been sexting.

Aaron Hotchner x Teacher! Reader

Smut/Fluff

Word count: 5335

I have been writing this for weeks and I’m not sure about it – feedback is welcomed (as long as its constructive) Also I am using personal knowledge of teaching (as I work in a school) if it doesn't match your personal experiences I am sorry. Not edited - please be kind.

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, language, sexting, tinder, online dating, explicit description of sexual activity, age gap (legal - Aaron is 45 Reader is 26), unsolicited sexual messages via dm, mentions of Jack, New Girl reference, mentions of school, teaching, insecurities, mentions of cheating, let me know if I missed anything!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Your phone buzzing pulled your attention away from the book you’d been reading. The notification illuminating your screen was one that filled you with dread.

You had joined Tinder at the suggestion of your colleague, she claimed that after your last relationship plus the significant amount of time you’ve been single equated to you needing to join the dating app.

This on its own wasn’t what was tying your stomach in knots, that was the fact that since you’d downloaded the god forsaken app you’d received a disturbing amount of unsolicited dick pics. Tonight, however, would bring a positive change. You had swiped right on a particularly handsome man a few days ago and had been silently hoping to match with him ever since. You had honestly given up hope until now.

Swiping over on the notification to launch the app would allow you to remind yourself of how handsome this guy actually was.

“Alright Aaron let’s take another look at this profile” you mumbled to yourself as you slid further down the couch.

Scrolling through his pictures you couldn’t help but smile. He only had three, but they were good. The first picture was a close up of him in a suit, he wore a subtle smile and his eyes looked so inviting. The second picture was him in a black T-shirt he looked as though he’d been laughing or maybe talking, a big grin on his face. The third photo…this one left your mouth dry. He’d clearly been on a golf course, the photo taken without his knowledge, but his arms…the way they were flexed and the veins that bulged in his forearms and hands. God the thoughts you had about what he could do with those hands.

You shook your head, trying to rid your mind of the vulgar thoughts you were having about this perfect stranger. He was hot, you couldn’t deny it, but his bio drew you in even further, it was to the point but definitely had you wanting to know more.

I’m a single dad and a workaholic. I love the Beatles. Looking for something real.

It felt like someone may have guided him through it, but you could tell the sentiment was genuine. He was a single dad and you loved that he wasn’t hiding that. It wasn’t something that would deter you from getting to know him either. You loved kids, that’s why you’d become a teacher.

You had mentioned that in your bio, it was short and sweet and exactly you.

I’m a 3rd grade teacher, I love music and reading, and yes, “I have touched glitter in the last 24 hours!”.

You’d thought about messaging him right away but ultimately decided against it. Not wanting to seem too eager, you’d give it some time and who knows, maybe he’d even message you first.

It had been an entire week since you’d swiped right and now he was finally messaging you. He’d kept it pretty simple, but it was late and given the previous messages you’d received at this hour, you were feeling pretty weary about opening his message.

A: Hello, I wanted to message you sooner, but I wasn’t sure how to start this conversation.

Y: Hi 😊 and no worries I get it. Online dating doesn’t exactly have the same effect as an in-person conversation.

A: Precisely. How are you?

Y: I’m doing good, tired. You?

A: I’m good, thank you.

A: I’m so sorry, I travel for work and am currently on the west coast, I didn’t even factor in the time difference.

Y: Don’t apologize! I’m the one who is awake at this ungodly hour. I should probably head to sleep though.

A: Yes, get some rest. Could I message you tomorrow and try this again?

Y: Absolutely, I’m looking forward to it! Goodnight Aaron!

A: Goodnight.

You woke up feeling pretty good, it was nice to not have to wake up at 6:00 am every morning. Once of the perks of being a teacher was the breaks. You were, however, thankful to be at a school that allowed a twelve-month contract which meant your paychecks continued through the summer. You had also made some extra cash by creating and selling assignments through teachers-pay-teachers (TPT) and by holding virtual tutoring sessions for students who were struggling.

Today you were just planning to create a few different anchor charts to upload for sale on your TPT account. You had just finished designing one for homophones vs. homographs and were ready to upload it when your phone buzzed. When you noticed the notification, you couldn’t help but smile.

A: Good morning

Y: Good morning! How are you?

A: I’m well, glad to be going home. How are you?

Y: Right, you had said you were on the west coast, is that for work?

Y: And I am good, thank you.

A: Yes, I unfortunately have to travel a lot for work. Your bio says you’re a teacher, that’s really incredible, how long have you been teaching?

Y: Travelling for work must take the excitement out of the actual travel.

Y: And thank you! I have been teaching for 5 years now! I love it so much; the kids make all the paperwork and administrative stuff worth it!

A: It is so great that you have that passion. It seems that it’s becoming increasingly rare.

Y: What about you? I see you’re a federal agent, is that right?

A: Yeah, I am. It’s not as glamorous as it may sound.

Y: I would think it’s busy, and hard work. Especially with you travelling while having kids at home.

A: It is, it’s nice to talk to someone who understands that. I just have one kid, a son, he’s almost 8.

Y: That is a good age!

A: It really is, he’s coming into his own.

A: I just saw the time; I have a plane to go catch. Can we talk again soon?

Y: I would really like that. Have a safe flight Aaron.

**One Month later**

The two of you had talked nearly every day for the past month. He was everything you could’ve hoped for; kind, funny, charming, he asked you about yourself and your job. You were really enjoying talking to him and he must’ve shared those feelings because he had recently asked you to switch over from Tinder to texting.

Aaron and you hadn’t had the chance to meet in person yet, but you texted frequently. In the time you’ve been talking, he’d been out of town a total of three times. The first was when you’d matched, he was somewhere on the west coast then. He was back for two days from that trip before he left again, that time was a short stint in the Midwest. And the most recent time, which he was just getting back from was a whole week, somewhere nearby, you knew based on the fact that you remained in the same time zone.

Getting to know each other had been going well, you two asked one another deep questions instead of surface level stuff. You’d talked about your dreams and how you hoped to continue teaching for a few more years before moving up into the administration side of things, and Aaron had shared that he used to be a prosecutor and while he couldn’t share much about his current job, he shared what he might do when he was done at the FBI. He informed you that you had inspired him and that he’d been considering teaching classes at the local university.

Connecting with him was easy, so easy in fact that you’d both admitted to having deleted your dating apps. You had told Aaron that you really wanted to meet him, and he had agreed with you, and so you had set up a tentative date for the following Friday, provided work doesn’t call him away.

Naturally, work did call him away. He’d texted you as soon as he found out. Short but sweet.

Aaron: Hey, I am so sorry, but we got a case. We’re headed to the tarmac now. Raincheck?

You: Oh, no worries! I understand, have a safe flight. Will you let me know when you land?

Aaron: Of course, I’ll talk to you later sweetheart.

You couldn’t help but blush at the name. Aaron and you hadn’t used pet names or even discussed it…hell, you hadn’t really discussed anything about what you were or where you were headed. You had figured that you would have that discussion over dinner, only now that wasn’t happening.

In all honesty you were starting to lose your resolve. Since you had started talking to Aaron, you hadn’t talked to any other men, which meant you hadn’t been intimate with any other men. You were starting to feel pretty restless. You’d thought about texting him, but again, you had no idea what this thing you were doing was. You had tried to push the feeling aside, keeping yourself busy by watching TV and cutting out materials for your classroom.

It was nearly 10 pm when your phone lit up. You looked down to see Aaron’s contact light up your screen, a smile taking form on your lips.

Aaron: Hey sweetheart, how was your day?

You: Hey! It was productive, I got a lot of prep work done for my class. How was your day?

Aaron: It was long, and brutal. I would much rather be there with you.

This was it; he was opening the door; you would just have to see how far he wanted this to go…would he invite you in given the chance?

You: I’d love it if you were here. I’m just lying in bed.

Aaron: You are?

You: Yeah, just here in bed. Thinking about you.

Aaron: I’ve been thinking about you too.

You: Yeah? How so?

Aaron: Sweetheart, I don’t want you to think that this is just some ploy. I like you; I really do, and I want to meet you in person.

You: I like you too Aaron and I know you wouldn’t do that. I’d also really love for you to continue…I really need to know what you’ve been thinking about.

Aaron: God sweetheart. I’ve been thinking about all the things I’d like to do with you.

Aaron: I’d love to start by grabbing your face and kissing those beautiful lips.

You feel a shiver run down your spine as you read Aaron's text. Your heart begins to race, anticipation bubbling up inside you. The words on the screen ignite a flame of desire deep within your core, making it impossible to resist the growing heat between your legs.

You: Mmm, that sounds amazing. I can almost feel your lips on mine already.

Aaron: I want to taste every inch of you. Starting with your mouth, then trailing my kisses down your neck.

The mere thought of Aaron's lips exploring your body sends a surge of wetness between your thighs. You imagine him leaving gentle, lingering kisses along the curve of your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin just below your earlobe.

You: Yes, please. I want to feel your lips everywhere.

Aaron: I'd slowly remove your shirt, teasingly revealing the soft skin underneath until it’s off completely, exposing your beautiful breasts.

You can't help but squirm in bed, the tingling warmth between your legs intensifying with every word. The anticipation builds as you imagine Aaron's hands brushing against your skin, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along the curve of your breasts.

You: Oh God, that sounds incredible. I can’t wait to feel your touch, Aaron.

Aaron: And I can’t wait to give it to you, my sweet girl. I'd worship every inch of your body, my hands guiding my lips and tongue to explore you.

Your breath catches in your throat as the images flood your mind, each one more tantalizing than the last. You can almost feel the soft brush of his lips against your collarbone, the way his tongue would flick against your sensitive flesh.

You: Please, Aaron. I need you now. I can't wait any longer.

Aaron: Patience, sweetheart. We'll meet soon, and when we do, I promise to fulfill your every desire.

As you read Aaron's response, a mix of relief and disappointment washes over you. You understand the need for caution, but the ache within you grows stronger with each passing minute. The desire to feel Aaron's touch, to have him consume you completely, becomes almost unbearable.

You: Okay, Aaron. I trust you.

Aaron: Good girl. Now, close your eyes and imagine my hands tracing circles on your thighs. Slowly inching higher, closer to where you crave me the most.

You follow his command, closing your eyes and allowing your mind to paint vivid images of his touch. The sensation of his warm hands on your thighs sends shivers down your spine as you imagine his fingers inching closer to your pulsating core.

You: Oh yes, Aaron. I can nearly feel your hands on me, the anticipation is almost unbearable. Every nerve ending in my body burns for your touch.

Aaron: That's it, my sweet girl. Imagine my fingers brushing against your wetness, teasingly circling your throbbing clit, driving you to the edge.

Your breath hitches in your throat. The images in your mind become more vivid, your body responding to the phantom touch that you crave with every fiber of your being.

You: Yes, Aaron. I can feel it. My body is on fire for you.

Aaron: I can practically see the uncontrollable desire in your eyes, sweet girl. I bet you look so pretty when you cum.

Your heart races with a mixture of excitement and frustration. The words exchanged between you and Aaron ignite a passionate flame within you, but the distance between you only fuels the longing for his touch. For now, you must find solace in the words that pass between you, allowing your imaginations to create a world where your desires can run wild.

You: I can't wait for the moment when this all becomes reality.

Aaron: It will be worth the wait, my sweet girl. Until then, tell me what you’ve been thinking about. Tell me what you want me to do to you.

You close your eyes, mind racing with a whirlwind of untamed thoughts and secret desires. With each passing moment, the explicit nature of your conversation with Aaron intensifies, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. The electrifying tension between you grows with every tantalizing word exchanged, pushing the boundaries of your imagination further than ever before. You find yourself under Aaron's spell, eager to confess the deepest, darkest corners of your desires.

You: Aaron, I want you to take control. I want to be at your mercy, to feel the weight of your dominance. Do with me as you please.

Aaron: My sweet girl, I will claim you as mine, marking every inch of your body with my touch.

Your body trembles in anticipation of your approaching orgasm. Every nerve ending tingles and pulses, craving the touch of Aaron's hands, his lips, his body against yours. The air is thick with desire as you imagine surrendering yourself to him completely. You slide two fingers into your pulsing heat, slowly thrusting them in and out, imagining Aaron was the one providing you such pleasure.

Aaron: Give yourself over to me. Let go sweetheart. I want to push you to your limits and then pull you back.

Your fingers move faster, matching the rhythm of your racing heart. The room seems to spin as you find yourself on the precipice of ecstasy. One final thrust of your fingers and you are sent hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing with waves of pleasure that crash over you like a tsunami.

As you ride the aftershocks of your orgasm, your breathing begins to steady, and the reality of the moment settles in.

You: Aaron...that was...beyond anything I could have imagined.

Aaron: This is only the beginning. There is so much more for us to explore when we are finally together.

You were growing more confident in whatever this was with him, but you were also becoming more and more frustrated at the fact that you had still yet to meet up with him. You had facetimed many times at this point. Calling one another regularly, to say good morning, to let you know he had landed safely, to tell him all about your day, and even to get one another off at the end of a long hard week.

He was extremely apologetic, given that his chaotic schedule was to blame for you having yet to meet in person. He had even gone as far as to let you know each day they didn’t have a case to see if you were free, but unfortunately as the new school year was approaching, you had become increasingly busier. You had been attending trainings for curriculum as well as the new program the school would be using to take attendance. You had also been going in to start setting up your classroom for a few hours each day.

When you weren’t at the school working on those things, you were at home writing lesson plans, making assignments, and getting your google classroom setup online. You had felt horrible that you had to decline dates, especially given that he finally had time for them, but Aaron was so sweet, assuring you that it was okay. You told him that once the school year started things would be easier since there wouldn’t be so much to prep anymore and once again Aaron let you know that he understood.

Time had flown by; Aaron and you had been talking and doing whatever this was for nearly two months. Many things had been exchanged between the two of you, promises of exclusivity (without labels for now), explicit messages, talks of the future, nude photos, hopes and dreams, amongst many other things. Since that night, you and Aaron had shared many explicit conversations that had ultimately led to some of the best orgasms you’d ever given yourself. You we genuinely surprised at how quickly you had felt comfortable with a man you’ve never actually met, but him facetiming you regularly helped, you supposed. It was scary to think you could be falling for this man so early on.

Shaking the thought out of your mind you checked your phone, only to see a missed call from Aaron, as well as a voicemail. It made you smile to yourself, nobody you knew left voicemails anymore, they always followed a missed call with a text.

VM <Aaron>: Hey sweetheart, you must be busy, but I wanted to see if you were free this Saturday. I know you have some stuff going on at the school this week, but I thought since you are off, and I just found out it is a mandatory off day for the team, it might be a good time for us to finally go out.

Aaron’s voicemail made you giddy, because him having a mandatory day off on the weekend was rare (as he previously informed you). They tend to fall in the middle of the week between cases to allow the agents a break. But a Saturday! One of your days off – this meant you could finally go on your date! You quickly clicked your phone app, scrolled to his contact, and hit the call button.

“Hotchner.” Aaron said.

“Hey baby!” You greeted.

“Oh, hi sweetheart! I take it you got my voicemail?”

“I did, and I am totally free on Saturday! Were you thinking dinner?”

“Well Jack is with his grandpa on Saturday, so I thought maybe we could spend the whole day together? I have a feeling once I see you, I’m not going to want to let you out of my sight for a bit.” Aaron explained.

“First of all, same! Second of all, I would love to spend the day with you, maybe we could go to the farmer’s market in the morning? I could get some stuff to make us dinner. What do you think?” You questioned.

“Perfect! Alright, well it is getting late, and I know you have a busy day at the school tomorrow, so I am going to let you go. Have a good night sweet girl.”

“Tomorrow won’t be as bad as Thursday, but you are right it is getting late. Goodnight handsome! Text me when you get up?” You asked, hopeful.

“You are going to do great on Thursday, the parents are going to love you. And I will text you first thing!”

With that, you hung up. Aaron was sweet trying to ease your mind of your anxieties. You knew realistically that your meet the teacher night on Thursday would be fine and that there really was no reason to fret, but alas, here you are letting it eat you up.

The next three days passed in a blur, Aaron had been consulting on a case from the Quantico office, something about it not being enough information to warrant travel. You had been finishing up all your last-minute decorations and lesson prep. You also needed to make your slideshow that you would review during meet the teacher.

It had been chaotic, but you managed to get everything completed on time and Aaron had actually helped that precinct close their case. It had been a successful week, and now you on top of your back-to-school jitters, you also had nerves from your pending date. You told yourself to focus on one thing at a time, it would be easier that way.

Which leads you to right now…

Meet the teacher night was the most nerve-wracking and exciting night of the year, you wanted to make a good impression for all the parents, but you also needed to show the kids that you were a safe adult that they could trust who has curated an inviting and cozy space for them to express themselves and engage in learning.

You had spent the last week getting your classroom perfectly decorated and organized for this moment, and here it was finally happening. You waited, anxiously fidgeting with your sleeves as families made their way into your classroom, greeting them all as they entered. A parent had pulled you aside to talk about their child’s multitude of allergies when another family had walked in, presumably the last one if you had your count right. You excused yourself and made your way over to the father of this student and stopped dead in your tracks. You’d recognize him anywhere, you had memorized his face, arms, hands, broad shoulders and here he was in front of you now.

“Hi” it came out as a breath; you were stunned that he was here now.

“Hi, I had no idea you were Jack’s teacher. The email I got must’ve been your last name…” Aaron tried to explain.

“No, don’t worry about it, we hadn’t exchanged full names. I um maybe we should talk about this after.” You’d just remembered that you were in a room full of parents and your soon-to-be students.

“Right, that’s a good idea.” Aaron said as he made his way over to Jack and some woman.

Your stomach dropped as Aaron greeted the woman, clearly someone he was very familiar with. Had this all been a lie, the last two months. You zoned out, completely disassociated as you gave your presentation, welcoming the families, going over pickup/drop-off procedures, discussing how you would communicate with parents and going over the scope and sequence of the curriculum for this year.

As you spoke, you found your eyes drifting back to him. Your stomach dropping every time he meets your gaze. How dare he. How dare he smile at you like nothing is wrong, like he isn’t here with some other woman.

You made it halfway through the powerpoint which was a chance for parents to ask any questions that they had thus far. A few parents had asked about the school lunch program and what after-school activities they could anticipate throughout the year. Another parent asked about one of the board adopted reading curriculums and how it would be implemented – all tame so far. Then his hand went up. You steeled yourself before gesturing to him.

“Mr. Hotchner” You signaled him to ask his question.

“Yes, I wanted to know more about the art program here. Which classes are provided as the kids’ specials?”

“That’s a great question, our school has received a grant from the state for our arts program, it is one of the best in the U.S.. The students will participate in multiple specials throughout the week such as Art, Physical Education, Chorus, Computers, Robotics, Gardening, Band, and Dance. They will have two specials classes on every day of the week, save for Wednesdays, since those are half days.” You explained.

“Wow, that’s amazing, thank you!” Aaron smiled at you again.

You were proud of the fact that your school had the ability to have such a wide variety of electives to offer your students. Your heart swells when talking about it, knowing that you worked tirelessly to help lock in that grant for your school. Aaron’s smiley response, however, makes your stomach churn.

You continued throughout the last few slides, closed out your presentation and said your goodbyes, answering the few remaining questions while picking up stray crayons and cups scattered around the room. As you threw the last few cups in the trash you turned to see Aaron lingering in the back of the room alone.

There was a nagging feeling eating away at you. He surely didn’t have the audacity to come here with another woman. Not when you had spent the last two months sharing the most intimate parts of yourselves with one another. Granted he didn’t know it would be you, so maybe that was why he was here with her. All you wanted to do was grab your bag and get the hell out of here.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” He started.

“Sooo, should we just ignore the fact that I’ve seen you naked? Just pretend like the last two months never happened. I don’t want to put Jack in an awkward position. And I certainly don’t want to come between you and your girlfriend.” You huffed.

“Woah, sweetheart, hold on. What are you talking about? As far as I am concerned the only person who I would call my girlfriend here is you, but obviously we haven’t discussed that and seeing as we are only just meeting now, I figured we’d go on our date before labeling anything. I don’t want to forget about any of this, I want to keep this going, see where it leads.” Aaron reached for your hand gently.

“Aaron, if you are seeing that woman you came here with then this has to end. I’m not looking to be a third, or to be your mistress. You can’t do that to her. You can’t do that to Jack!” You shook your head and pulled your hand away from his.

“Oh my god. No, that’s Jess, Jack’s aunt. I thought I told you about her. It’s Jack’s mom’s sister. The only person I want to see is you baby.” He reaches for you again.

This time you let him pull you into his embrace. You shake your head, feeling like an idiot for even thinking Aaron was capable of something so awful.

“I’m so stupid. Aaron I am so sorry!”

“Sweetheart it is okay! I can’t even imagine how it must’ve looked.” He pressed his lips to the top of your head.

“I can’t believe you are actually here right now.” You whispered, pressing your face further into his chest.

Aaron squeezed you tighter, rubbing his hands up and down the expanse of your back. You took a deep breath in, savoring the smell of his cologne.

“You know, I could have Jess take Jack home, and maybe we could go grab a bite to eat?” Aaron suggested.

“Really?” You looked to him for confirmation.

Aaron replied with a subtle “mhmm” to which you nodded. He quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and shot a quick text to Jess. He was sure to give her a brief explanation of the situation, this of course caused her to agree to take Jack for the night.

You should have known you wouldn’t even make it to dinner. Aaron had suggested going back to his place since it would be empty and ordering in. How could you say no, it was a brilliant idea.

The two of you barely made it through the door before your lips met in a fiery kiss, tugging at one another’s clothes. Aaron had picked you up, wrapping your legs around his hips as he carried you the rest of the way to the bedroom.

He gently laid you on the bed, holding his weight up by his elbows on either side of your head. He leans in to kiss you once more before pulling away entirely.

“Sweetheart, I want to make sure you really want this. I can wait and I don’t want you to think this is all I want because trust me I want you. All of you.” Aaron expressed.

“Aaron I want this, all of this with you.” You gently brushed your finger against his jaw.

With that, Aaron dove back in and kissed you with fervor. His hands gripping your plush thighs sliding up to your hips. Your hands reaching to unbutton his dress shirt, unsuccessfully so. Aaron’s hands come up to meet your own, he moves to remove his own shirt which allows you just enough space to remove your own. Garments are strewn about the room as Aaron leans down attaching his lips to the top of your breasts. His hands come up to grope them, your body arching into his touch. He tugs the lace down, exposing your nipple, it immediately perks to the cold air, and he attaches his mouth to it. You can’t help the gasp that releases from your throat. You card your fingers through his hair raking your nails against his scalp.

Aaron presses his hips to yours, allowing you to feel his growing length against your inner thigh. Heat courses through your body as your heart races. He undresses you with a slow, deliberate intent, unhooking your bra and allowing your breasts to bounce free. The vulnerability of it all makes you feel alive, desired, cherished.

Your hands explore his body, his muscles hard and defined under your touch. You run your fingers across the faint lines of scars, evidence of his journey, the stories he's lived. You gently trace them, feeling his rough skin, the warmth emanating from him. You feel like you know him, like you've been waiting for this moment your entire life.

He stands, his eyes locked with yours. He reaches down, unbuckling his jeans and sliding them down his legs. Your eyes follow the movement, taking in every inch of his body, he is standing before you, naked and exposed. You feel a wave of desire wash over you, a fiery need to be closer to him. Your hands reach for him, your fingers brushing against the curve of his hips, the muscles in his thighs, the hard line of his abdomen. You run your fingertips along the slight indent of his navel, and he lets out a low groan.

Your body is alive with desire, every breath you take sharper, every touch more electric. You know this moment will be etched in your memory forever, the beginning of something beautiful. And as you take his hand, pulling him back to the bed, you know that this is where your story will unfold, a story of passion, love, and a bond that will last a lifetime.

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focusfixated · 2 months ago

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so yes i did go see paul mccartney in paris two weeks ago with my sis because we couldn't get tickets to the london shows, but yesterday the clouds parted, the angels sang and we were blessed with a christmas miracle (last minute face-value resale tickets) and managed to go to the gig last night after all.

seeing beloved bands and artists in other countries or cities is all well and good when access is limited, but there is nothing like seeing someone in your home town. "how are you doing tonight, london?" and you can yell back, yes, i'm doing mighty fucking fine, thanks for asking.

the highlights of the night:

the girl next to me on her feet with us the whole show belting every single word out

the rendition of wonderful christmastime and my sis grabbing me by the shoulders and yelling DO YOU TAKE IT BACK. DO YOU TAKE IT BACK. (it: my aversion to christmas music and my claim in JEST that paul has only ever done two things wrong in his life* and one of them is WC)

paul forgetting to play my valentine at the piano and his drummer abe emphatically miming a heart to remind him and paul saying, "i thought he was saying that he loved me!"

paul's absolutely camp imitation of a muscular, flexing man during the "just the fellas" section of hey jude [ETA i have been reminded! @scurator : you forgot when he did a weird little camp wrist for "women" during hey jude and then panicked like "oh no wait that's Gays, not Women, they are not the same" and course-corrected with a little ~womanly shape]

paul standing quietly and staring out at the audience after some of the songs just to "take it in, for me"

paul, telling the story of writing blackbird : "when we played in jacksonville in the 60s they told us the audience would be segregated and we said if that was the case we wouldn't play" - audience: *clapping* - paul: "yay beatles!"

paul preemptively covering both his ears before the final explosion of live and let die, and then crossly miming "too loud" at everyone, and continuing to do so for the laughs as everyone in the audience hooted and hollered

paul talking about how they used to not be able to hear themselves play over the sounds of the audience, and requesting the crowd let out their own beatles scream to demonstrate (sister: "wow, felt good to let that out, actually")

a flag for ireland in the flag parade

a second opportunity to enjoy i got a feeling which simply is my favourite beatles song of all time

paul thanking his amazing band, and saying how talented they all are, "and not a sign of AI among them."

the final bow, the whole band holding hands and then simultaneously doing a sprightly jump up all together

anyway. just an incredible show by the best to ever do it, the one true king, my lesbian wife, my favourite old man. feeling blessed this christmas.

* the other one is the frog chorus song and apart from that paul has never done a single thing wrong in his life

#paul mccartney #got back tour

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yall-batman-fanfic · 24 days ago

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[Maxie] Zeus | Bruce Wayne/Batman x OC!Magician

Synopsis: Before Maxie Zeus became part of Batman's rogue's gallery, he was a mild history professor in Gotham University, working in the same department as Vivian. Though married, he admits to himself and some of his colleagues his infatuation towards Vivian. But nothing stays innocent in Gotham City.

Maximillian Zeus is a horrible person. How could he have these thoughts about his new and much younger colleague while he has a wife and child?! But how couldn't he either? The new Symbology and Iconography, and Art History professor was as beautiful as Aphrodite. Her red hair reminded him of Sandro Botticelli's The Birth of Venus, her pois of the three Graces---the Charities, who are the goddesses of beauty, grace, and charm — or she could be Helen. Homer never really gave an explanation on how Helen looked and the woman remained somewhat of a mystery in all stories. All that was known of her was her treachery towards her husband, and to have been the most beautiful woman of all, hence the saying: the face that launched a thousand ships.

“Everyone, let's all give Professor Vivian Pryor a warm welcome---Justin, you're both around the same age, I'm sure you can show her around?” Said Gregory.

Justin Kirk, a young, handsome, and outgoing man, which was everything that Maxie Zeus wasn't, happily went to greet Vivian first with a shake of a hand and said, “Leave it to me, we young folk gotta stick together.”

Vivian laughed, it was perfect in Maxie's opinion. The right kind of laugh for a woman. Soft, melodic, not the kind that reminds him of harpies and crones. “I guess so. I'm just glad to find someone here who might know my pop culture reference.”

“You watched Star Wars?”

Vivian winced, “Can't say I have.”

“Lord of the Rings?”

“Yes.”

Justin hummed for a moment in thought. “What are your thoughts on the Beatles?”

Vivian smirked. “I grew up in Liverpool.”

“Football team?”

“Manchester,” she gave him a quizzical look.

Justine grinned. “We'll get along just fine. Welcome to GU.”

“Thanks, it's great to be back here, actually.”

To explain, Gregory informed everyone that Vivian was a student of Gotham University when studying for her Bachelors degree, then she took her Masters as a scholar in Italy, supported by her mentor there, Sebastian Rossi and then back at Gotham again in GU where she was mentored by the current Dean of their college. Many were in awe to know about her background, especially when Vivian turns out to be just in her twenties.

Vivian was given the desk beside Kirk, which was a desk in front of him. So it was him, then Marge's desk, then Vivian's. It wasn't the most ideal but it gave Maxie the chance to see her every day, even if it was just her red hair.

Stop.

He should stop this.

He's married.

He has a daughter.

He has a happy family.

No sarcasm there. They really were happy!

But then again, what's so bad with an office crush, right? It's not really cheating if he just admires a young and beautiful woman from afar, right?

Right… He'll just keep telling himself that.

And he does keep telling himself that for the future that comes as he would often look across his and Marge’s table to see Vivian Pryor, or come to the office a little early so he could be one of the first few to greet her good morning. Always just a greeting and never a conversation. He has no reason to talk to her anyway, they have different interests aside from their work, and it looks like Justin Kirk also has interest in her and he has a better shot with her too.

Until Vivian came to his table to talk to him.

“Is that your daughter?” Her voice startled him. Turning, he saw Vivian standing there in her iconic tweed jacket, and earth tone clothes – today she opted to wear a blouse and skirt than her usual trousers — and boots. Her hair was pulled to a low bun being held by a pencil. A sharp pencil, he observed.

“Yes,” Maxie found his voice again. “Yes, she is.”

“What's her name?”

“Medea.”

A smile krept to her face. “A bold choice, but I can see in her eyes that she is as strong as her namesake.”

Maxie chuckled. “Yeah, she's — she's headstrong. I just hope she doesn't do whatever Medea did with Jason and their children.”

“Women's wrath,” Vivian shrugged. “You have a beautiful family, Professor Zeus. Your wife is so beautiful too.”

“Thank you, I'll make sure to tell her.”

Great, even she sees that this little crush is wrong.

“Anything I can do for you, Professor Pryor?” Maxie asked.

“Vivian's fine. And yes, I was going to ask for the keys to the storage. I wanted to borrow the Overhead projector to show something to my class, and they said that you are the master of keys to all our department's assets.”

“Right, right, um…” Zeus got up from his desk. “Well, I'm not really the master of keys, but I just—I fixed the system with it. Here.” He brought her to the wall where the key holders were, each key hung with a label on its loop, and at the side was a form that had names, signatures, details, and time. “Um, just write your name here, the time you took the key, the item you borrowed, and the time you returned the key and item. Do you need any help with getting the projector to your class?”

“No, I got it, but thanks,” Vivian smiled at him and went to sign on the form then took the key. “I'll make sure to remember where I took it from. Thanks again, Professor Zeus.”

“No problem, Professor Pryor.”

That was the first conversation he had with Vivian. A simple on but it meant a lot to him too, and it stuck with him until his downfall.

~*~

Vivian's career was skyrocketing with her research getting published. Many academic publishers bid on her work but only one got it with the best offer. A year working in academia as a professor in Gotham University, she is now getting what every scholar dreams of: getting their works published and recognized. They were all invited to her book launch, and were one of the first few to get a copy of her book too. Everything was going so well for her with the money she was getting from her books, the recognition, publicity, and offers for her studies.

Then it happened.

During her book launch, a murder took place. Her agent was killed and hanged for display in the middle of her talk, and a knife was thrown at her direction. If it hadn’t been for billionaire-playboy, Bruce Wayne, Vivian would have been dead.

The case went on for weeks. Vivian was placed under police protection, which meant she can’t go to work. She was just stuck in whatever place they chucked her in. Then, a miracle happened.

Rather, the Bat happened.

The next day, they saw an article about Batman and Professor Vivian Pryor stopping Blackfire’s cult. The cult ran by Deacon Blackfire believed bathing in the blood of humans would make them immortal, and for some reason, they wanted Vivian to be the sacrifice for their ritual that night, and to get to her, they scared her to hide until they could find her in one place. But it was the other way around, it was Vivian and the Bat who found them in their catacombs.

The second take of her book launch took place in Wayne Tower, and based on rumors, Wayne paid for everything as well. As a way to thank her as Vivian would be giving half of the revenue she’s getting to the Wayne Foundation to help Gotham City.

“They look a little cozy,” Marge whispered to their little group as they watched Vivian and Bruce Wayne talk at the corner. Smiles never disappearing.

Justin scoffed. “Please, Wayne’s just trying to get into her pants. We all know his M.O.”

“I don’t know, that looks like a man who isn’t just after that,” Gregory laughed. “It would be interesting if that happens, right?”

“It’s just a one-night stand and Wayne is going to forget about Via,” said Justin.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Justin,” Katherine told him. “Maybe it’s just Wayne socializing.”

“It better be.”

Maxie agrees.

But that wasn’t the case. The next day, they learned that Vivian was asked out on a date by Bruce Wayne, but an emergency happened that cancelled it, then a couple of days later, Wayne personally went to GU to ask her out again. They went dancing that Friday, and the next school day, Vivian told Marge and Katherine what they did and what surprised him and Justin was that Wayne and her didn’t have sex, and that Wayne wanted to see her again.

Then it happened, Bruce Wayne became a reoccurring face in GU, and whenever he was there, it was always for Vivian.

It was official. Bruce Wayne and Vivian Pryor were dating.

It seems, like Dionysus, while the god had Aphrodite as a wife, it was Ares who won the goddess’ heart and love.

~*~

It always starts with death.

The madness came when his wife died. It was a robbery gone wrong, said the GCPD. The thieves thought no one was at home, but then they saw his wife and they shot her, took what they could and ran. Medea Zeus was in her room that time, asleep, and when she woke up she saw her mother’s body on the ground in a pool of blood.

It was from that tragedy, that grief that made the mild man, Maximilian Zeus, to start these delusions of him being the very mythological god he teaches to his students. He was Zeus.

~*~

“I can’t believe it,” Vivian said as she looked at the Bat Computer's monitor that had the photo of Zeus with his gang. “How –”

“We both know how,” Batman muttered. “I’m sorry, Viv.”

Vivian sat on the chair beside Bruce’s and massaged her temples to try and grasp what she was seeing. A couple of days ago, Batman was dealing with a case from Commissioner Gordon about a new crime lord that’s rising in Gotham by the name of Zeus. At first Vivian shrugged it off, believing it was just some Greek mythology fanatic, it was best she doesn’t meddle with Batman’s cases and focus on her own work and with Dick, who was still undergoing training before he could wear the mask and cape.

But now…

“Do you remember the last time you saw him?” Bruce asked her.

“Yeah, it was at his wife’s funeral. We all went there to give our condolences and to see how Medea was. She saw her mother’s body that night and was the one who called 911.”

Batman’s jaw clenched in anger at the thought of another child witnessing another tragedy.

“How is she? The girl?”’

“She wasn’t talking then, Max said she hasn’t talked since calling 911,” Vivian sighed. “After that, Max went on a bereavement leave and extended it for a couple of more weeks, then we never heard from him since. Some say he left Gotham with his daughter, too distraught to go through the proper paperwork to resign and leave that he just did.”

“No communication since then?”

“No. I can’t ever imagine him becoming a crime lord — Max was this timid and mild man who adores his wife and daughter, and he wouldn’t hurt a fly! He even tends to the university garden.”

Bruce doesn’t really remember Maximillian Zeus that much, the man was the person who would blend in the background of a photograph, and he would notice him whenever Vivian points at his direction. He remembers her calling him the Master of Keys in their department because the man fixed their chaotic key holder and other assets too.

“Bruce, I don’t meddle in your affairs as Batman, but…” Vivian took his hand, holding it tight. “Not too harsh. He’s a good man who – I think – spiraled after the death of his wife. He needs help.”

“I promise, Vivian,” Bruce said to her. “I’ll make sure to deal with Zeus without inflicting harm.”

“But if push comes to shove… if you need to, then do so. I want you back here, okay, Batman?”

This time he smiled, pulling down his cowl, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Yes, Ma’am.”

~*~

She was walking to the bus station when it happened. The sun was just about to set, there were many bystanders, and traffic seems to be on her side, which was why when they came, Vivian was caught off guard. It was a black sedan that parked right in front of her at the bus stop, and before she could even react after realizing the traffic light wasn’t red, the door opened and a taser shocked her to unconsciousness.

In the middle of the day, she was kidnapped with a simple taser to knock her out.

Gotham City, everyone.

Waking up, Vivian was met by silk sheets and a soft bed, but she knew that this wasn’t Wayne Manor. It didn’t have the smell of the place nor the comfort it brings her. She knew Bruce’s bed intimately to know that this wasn’t it too. So where was she?

It was a lavish looking room – she’ll admit it – with a bed decorated with a large clam as its grame, the walls were marble white with Greek pillars to support the structure. Where the fuck was she? And what happened to her clothes? She was no longer wearing her blouse and trousers, nor her jacket and shoes, all she was wearing was a chiton with her hair tangled with ornaments – gold.

“Ah, Aphrodite!” The door opened.

“Max?” Vivian gasped.

“Goddess of beauty, how are you?” Max approached her but Vivian immediately jumped out of the bed to get away from him. “My love!”

Nothing about this felt right. This wasn’t the Max she knew, Maximillian Zeus wouldn’t talk like that, nor would he walk around wearing a peplos and himation. And he would wear underwear too!

“Max – Professor Zeus — ”

“Yes, it is I, Zeus! God of Thunder! King of Olympus!”

“No…” Vivian whispered. “No,” she said firmly. “You are Professor Maximillian Zeus — you teach history and classics in Gotham University! You had a wife –”

“Yes,” he said sadly. “Hera's passing has weakened Olympus.”

Vivian looked at in in disbelief. He can't possibly –

“That is why for the sake of Olympus and my daughter, the Princess Medea, I am in need of a new wife.”

The way he looked at her brought a chill down Vivian's spine.

“No,” Vivian said.

“But you will. And you must, for Olympus and Princess Medea –”

“Where is Medea?!” Vivian exclaimed, worried for the girl. “Where is she, Max?”

He was silent for a time, looking at her, then he called for one of his men. The door opened and appeared a man holding a little girl's hand. Medea looked frightened but still did not speak. She trembled in fear with the man and with her Father who took her from him.

“Medea!” Vivian ran to her. The child pulled her hand from her father's grasp and wrapped her arms around Vivian. “It's okay, it's going to be okay.”

Medea hid her face at Vivian's clothes and held her tight.

“I'll get us out of here,” Vivian whispered.

“My love, do you really think I do not know of you?” Zeus spoke, with a smirk. “You may be Aphrodite but I know that you are a child of the Hecate. The goddess of magic and sorcery. My studies have helped me in building this fortress, it is protect by a seal that prevents magic users to escape from it. You are bound here with me, my love.”

Vivian's hold on Medea tightened and she hid the girl behind her. “Professor, please, stop this. You're scaring your daughter. Is this how you want Medea to remember you?”

“She is a Princess of Olympus, she must learn the ways if she wishes to take the throne some day. If not, then our children will.”

Vivian glared at him. “Like hell that would happen.”

“We shall see, my love,” Zeus walked up to her and grabbed Vivian by her cheeks, forcing her to look at him. “One way or another, you will give me sons to create an army.”

Vivian spat at him, and with it Zeus backhanded her, sending her to the ground with Medea holding her. Protecting her from her father.

No more, was what the child wanted to say. Please, stop this.

Zeus only looked at them for a moment and then left.

Getting up, Vivian flexed her jaw to check if it was broken, then she tried to use her magic. Zeus wasn't bluffing, she can't use magic. If it was his delusion that had him stumble upon this, then he was damn lucky. But for her and Medea, all they can do was wait – either for the right time to strike and escape or for Batman to save them.

~*~

Angry was an understatement. Batman, Bruce Wayne, was livid to know what happened to Vivian. For days, he's been looking for her after learning from Alfred and Dick that Vivian never got to the Manor nor has she called either of them. He searched Gotham for her, questioning every enemy he has faced, showing them that he wasn't fucking around. No one touches Vivian Pryor. Else they get the Bat.

Then one key witness, a bystander, said to Batman that they saw Vivian get tased and tossed in a car with a customized plate: PEGASUS. He didn't need to go to the registry nor the computer to figure out who has Vivian. He went straight to Zeus’ New Olympus.

Climbing the tower, battling every one of Zeus’ henchmen, Batman made it to the very top of the penthouse where Zeus resides and is holding Vivian and Medea hostage. Upon entering the floor, he was met by a Greek-styled suite that resembles Olympus from those picture books, then sitting on his elevated throne was Maximillian Zeus himself, looking tall and strong. Then at his side, sitting at a much smaller throne was Vivian, who was chained to her throne with Medea clinging to her like a babe clings to her mother.

“Batman!” Vivian got up with Medea but she couldn't take a step with the chain around her ankle.

“Viv,” Batman whispered, relieved to see her alright, but that relief disappeared when he saw the bruise on her cheek and the cut on her lip. Turning to Zeus, Batman growled, “You touched her.”

“She is my wife. My property, I do as I please,” said Zeus.

That struck a nerve.

“You better choose your words carefully, Zeus,” Batman sneered. “She is not your wife. She is your hostage. I'll ask you once, and handle this carefully out of respect for Professor Pryor's wishes. Let them go and surrender.”

Zeus laughed, his laughter booming in the suite, then he exclaimed: “You dare tell me, a king – a god – what to do? You are nothing! I am your King!”

“You are no king, nor will you ever be a king of mine. I'll ask one last time: let them go and surrender, Zeus.”

Zeus got up from his throne, bringing with him his thunderbolt – a technology he stole from one of the warehouses he raided – and unclasped the clip of his peplos, leaving him shirtless as he faced the Dark Knight.

“You have always envied my position, Hades,” Zeus sneered at Batman.

Inaccurate and very much untrue for both the mythology and for Bruce Wayne. If she wasn't a hostage with a child, Vivian would have laughed at the irony of what he said, but that wasn’t the case.

“Do you really think I will simply let you take my wife and child, my kingdom, Hades?”

Batman sighed. “I'm sorry, Viv. But he hurt you.”

Reaching for his cape, he discarded the thing and threw it across the room, leaving him with his uniform, cowl, and utility belt.

“I’m not leaving without Vivian,” Bruce declared.

“Then this is a battle for her hand. Beat me and you shall have – oof!”

Before Zeus could finish, Batman punched him across the face, and kneed him at the stomach.

Vivian hid Medea from the sight of her father getting beaten up. Getting up from the throne, Vivian circled the thing as far as she could and hid behind it with Medea with her. Placing the child down, Vivian told her to stay put while they looked for a way to get out of there. If only she could erase the seal that Zeus that traps her magic, she’s seen the marks while captive and have tried to erase the thing but Zeus have intervened and used force to keep her from doing so. He hasn’t done anything drastic, as forcing himself to her, but he has hit her a couple of times, hence the bruise on her cheek, the black eye, and the cut on her lip.

“Professor,” Medea spoke the for the first time.

“Yes, Medea?” Vivian sighed in relief when the child spoke.

The girl held up her palms, showing the red ink on them. Was that blood?

“Medea! Where did you get that?!” Vivian held the girl’s hands. How did she not notice them?

“Daddy said you have magic. I promise not to tell… please bring back my Daddy,” Medea sobbed.

That wasn’t blood.

Those were the marks Zeus used to seal her magic.

Vivian held the girl’s hands and lets her magic flow through her magic once again.

“I will. Stay here, okay?”

Medea nodded.

Removing the cloak around her, Vivian wrapped it around the girl and stood from the ground and walked towards the sight of Batman battling Zeus. While Bruce was exceptional, Zeus had his thunderbolt.

“Kaerb eht niahc.”

The sound of her voice casting a spell distracted Bruce for a moment. Turning to the direction of the throne, he felt the change in the winds, the shift of power. Vivian’s magic was back, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her glowing gold eyes, and the magic exhuming from her body.

“Aphrodite, wife! What have you done?!” Zeus exclaimed. “You let the three-faced goddess take you!”

Vivian held her palm towards Zeus. A force lifted the man from the ground and forced him to drop the bolt to the ground. With her magic, Vivian flew from the ground and hovered over Zeus, her glare never faltering and the glow in her eyes intensifying.

“My love, have mercy! It is I, your husband!” Zeus exclaimed.

“Enough!” Vivian spoke, her voice laced with layers of voices that Bruce haven’t heard. “If you truly love me, Zeus, then surrender. Free me and Medea, and surrender.”

“A king never surrenders!”

Vivian frowned. “Then I am sorry, Professor Zeus,” her voice returned to the same voice that Bruce knew all too well. Placing a finger on Zeus’ forehead, she cast a spell: “Peels, sueZ.”

The man’s eyes fluttered, trying to fight the spell, but he eventually fell asleep and slumped against the force that held him in the air. With Zeus knocked out, Vivian got them down and settled the man down at the ground, kicking the bolt away from him.

“Vivian,” Bruce went to her side, holding her arms to see how she was. Aside from the bruises on her face and her arms where Zeus must have grabbed her, she was alright. Seeing them, Bruce pressed his forehead against hers and whispered, “I am so sorry for taking this long.”

“It’s okay… I’m sorry for not escaping sooner. He had a circle that kept me from using my magic, my love.” Vivian whispered. “Medea!” She realized.

“The girl,” Bruce agreed.

Pulling away, Vivian and Bruce ran to the throne where she left the girl. Still hiding behind it, they saw the girl hiding under the cloak that Vivian used to wrap around her. Scooping her into her arms, Vivian carried Medea and pulled back the hood.

“It’s over now, Medea,” Vivian told her.

“Is Daddy…” Medea trailed off, her eyes on her knocked out father.

“He’s just sleeping.”

“Okay… I want to go home now, Professor Pryor,” Medea muttered.

“We’ll get you out of here and get you somewhere safe,” Batman told her and offered to take the girl from Vivian.

“He’s a friend,” Vivian told her when Medea showed hesitation.

Seeing that Vivian trusted Batman, Medea held out her arms to Batman, letting him carry her.

“Everything alright now, Medea. I promise,” Batman swore.

~*~

Harvey Bullock came to the crime scene to apprehend Zeus after getting a call from Vivian Pryor about it. But when they arrived, Vivian Pryor and the girl, Medea Zeus, were missing, and all that was Zeus and his henchmen tied up with a note stuck on Zeus saying he needs to go to Arkham not a jail.

Unknowing to Bullock, Batman and Vivian were at the roof of a building across where Zeus made his New Olympus, with them was Medea who held onto Batman, not wanting to fall off a great height.

“Will they take Daddy?” Medea asked.

“They’ll take him somewhere that would help him,” said Vivian. “Let’s go, we can leave her with Commissioner Gordon.”

Batman agreed. “You both will be safe with Gordon. He’ll inform Wayne about this as well.” As they prepared to use Batman’s grappling and Vivian to fly using her magic, he adjusted his hold on Medea so she would be secure in his arms.

“Do you want to fly?” Batman asked the girl when she hid her face at the crook of his neck.

Medea looked up to him and nodded.

“Then keep your eyes open, this is just like flying,” Batman smiled at her.

Firing his grappling, Batman jumped down and swung down, building to building with Vivian flying beside him. In his arms the girl, Medea, smiled for the first time since seeing her mother’s body in their home.

~*~

“Viv, how are you?” Justin was the first to greet her as she entered the faculty office with a still bruised cheek. “Shit, I can’t believe Maxie would do this.”

“Me neither,” Vivian sighed. “But it’s okay now. Medea is now will be staying with her grandparents, and Zeus will be sent to Arkham to be rehabilitated.”

Days after the incident, Vivian was given paid-offs to rest after the whole ordeal. Her boss told her to stay at home for at least two weeks, that kidnapping was nothing to take lightly, and while Bruce agrees, Vivian was adamant in going back to work. Hence, her presence at the faculty office.

“You really should stay at home, Via,” said Katherine.

“I told her the same thing, maybe you could convince her,” Bruce appeared at the door of their faculty office.

“Mr. Wayne!” One of the professors gasped.

Vivian sighed. “Bruce, please.”

“You left this in the car,” he held up her packed lunch. “Alfred’s famous soup and sandwiches.”

Smiling, she got on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, my love. And thank you, Alfred. But I am ready to go back to work. I promise!”

Bruce sighed. “I’ll pick you up after work.” He then turned to her colleagues and said, “Please make sure she doesn’t escape to take the bus home.”

Katherine and Marge giggled and said: “We’ll do our best.”

The sound of her huffing had Bruce turn to Vivian and saw her pouting. Taking her hand, he pulled her out of the faculty office, earning teasing cheers from the others, and brought her to a dark hallway where he had her caged against the wall.

“Bruce,” she began.

“I just want you safe,” he said.

“I know,” Vivian cupped his face and got on her toes to kiss him. “Thank you, Batman.”

Wrapping his arms around her, Bruce kissed her deeply and didn’t want to let go if it were not for the sound of students about to pass by them.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Vivian asked.

“We can only hope from here on,” Bruce said to him. “I sent a gift to Medea earlier, she might get it by tomorrow. Hopefully, her experience with her father doesn’t create a hatred towards Greek mythology.”

Vivian smiled and said, “I’m sure that won’t be the case… now, go to work! Wayne Enterprise won’t run by itself!”

“I will, but just one last,” he kissed her again. “Viv.”

“Yes?”

“Are you willing to wait for me?”

“What?” she laughed.

“It might take a while but will you wait for the day I have a ring and get down on one knee?”

Vivian laughed. “Bruce, come on! We just got back a couple of months ago, don’t you think it’s too early to ask?”

“I guess,” Bruce kissed her again. While she laughed it off now, Bruce knew then and there that this was the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with and he wasn’t going to let her go. Not even if it meant battling gods.

#batman x oc #batman #dc fanfic #fanfic #bruce wayne #batman fanfiction #batmom #bruce wayne x reader

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m1ssunderstanding · 5 months ago

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Notes on Nowhere Boy

Finally posting the long version of the close-watch I did for @sleeper9's Fete zine. The bad thing about me is I hate spending money and love pirating shitty quality versions of movies. The good thing about the Beatles fandom is we're used to dealing with grainy pics. Anyways, here goes!

The opening ten seconds really do set the tone for the film, and here's why. It's the opening of A Hard Day’s Night where the boys are running from a hoard of screaming fans and George biffs it. John sees him go down, laughs, and keeps running. Only here, it's just John. George’s fall has been erased, making John into a cocky, if slightly insane, little lone hero.

Mimi: do I ignore you? No. So please don't ignore me. Me: ummm, yeah you do ignore him, Mimi. Enough to leave deep psychological scars. But it's fine. Moving on.

Ugh, Uncle George is so sweet! I wonder how much of John's sweetness he learned from him. I wish we knew more about him.

Actually that was Jim that set up a cord running into Paul's room from the radio downstairs. But it fits Uncle George's character, so it works.

Why did they make Mendips look a lot more working class than it actually was? No fancy iron fence, no pretty hexagonal outcropping, no stained glass veranda?

Aaron Taylor Johnson is nailing it though. The laugh sounds very John, and this posture? Perfect.

Okay but if that doesn't heartbreakingly encapsulate John and Mimi I don't know what does. Uncle George has just died. John goes to Mimi, wraps her from behind in a tight embrace and lets out a sob. Her response is to push him away. “Please, let's not be silly. If you want to do that, go to your room.” Alright, it's making me feel things, it's winning me over.

John making his cousin Stan go and ask Mimi where Julia is is also extremely accurate. Always had someone to do the dirty work for them, all of them.

Mimi's concern as John's going to visit his mother in the “bad” part of town is very good to have in too. “And you will be careful, hmm? Careful who you talk to.” And John's response, “it's only Blackpool, Mimi.” It's true. It could've been Speke, or the Dingle. Which Quarryman did I read saying Mimi didn't like John even leaving Woolton?

John's hurt little face when he finds out his mum, all this time, has been less than a bus ride away is a very clever way to show us his painful confusion about the whole situation.

Trying to remind myself that this is a very anti-Julia pro-Mimi movie that will try to make me think she's crazy. But it sure is doing a hell of a good job. She hasn't seen him in years and suddenly she's hand feeding him desserts, kissing him every chance she's got, flirting all over the place. “Do you know what it means? Rock and Roll? Sex.” “Don't tell Mimi, alright? This is our little secret. Promise me.” And to a poor affection-starved boy, that's going to feel good. That's going to put thoughts in his head like “this is how it should be”. I mean I know she was wild and fun and sexy and irresponsible. And I know John did have weird thoughts about her. But I hope she wasn't actually this crazy.

But the weird Freudian thing aside, he's got to be so terribly confused hearing the woman who effectively abandoned him declaring her love for him. Between Mimi and Julia, John would've had such a messed up idea of what that word meant.

The Daily Howl, my absolute beloved!!

Nowhere Boy John watching Elvis: damn I've gotta get the girls screaming for me like that! Actual John watching Elvis: he's so beautiful! He's perfect! I'm in love!

Also I do not think sixteen year old John was that good at fingering. Just saying.

This part always drops my heart cold into my stomach. Poor John. Poor poor baby. You can hear his little boy voice calling, “mum? It's me.” And she mutters, very annoyed, “go away.” Again. I have to remind myself that this is a purposely negative portrait of Julia. But then. It is true that she was a mostly absent and wholly undependable figure in John's life.

Sometimes dialogue is absolutely perfect. Like this – “Aw, why couldn't God make me Elvis Presley?” “Cause he was saving you for John Lennon.” “Aw I'll get you back for that, God!” And this – “you haven't told Mimi, have you?” “No point going through her bullocks if I don't have to.” “Why? She has to go through yours.” “Yeah well I never asked her to, did I?”

Ugh this whole movie just hurts so bad! How he looks to Julia as Mimi is ordering him out of her house, just begging her to claim him this time. And she doesn't until he makes a stand for himself. And then, later. “How long can I stay?” Is met with nothing. Not even a fake “long as you want, love.” It really plays into the title of the film. This boy's got nowhere to call home. And then, the final straw. Look at his face as he hears Julia agree that he does in fact need to go back to Mimi's. If I did that kind of thing, I'd actually be crying right now. Fuck, why was I knit-picking, this movie is working so well.

As he's announcing he's leaving Julia's, John wants her to tell him to stay. To at least pretend it's not what she wants. And she doesn't even look at him. Imagine if they did something like this in the John biopic mirrored with a scene with Paul in the breakup?

He's just so adorable looking at that guitar like he can't believe it's real.

John's gathered the og Quarrymen in the bathroom and Pete goes “I take it we're not here for a communal crap.” Idk Pete, wouldn't put it past him. It's not far off what you all do already.

It's making the Quarrymen look kinda cool here, and I really want them all to be shit except John, just because that's what I get from Paul's description. Not that he's biased or anything. He could've been watching John play with Elton John and David Bowie and he'd still say everyone faded into the background.

Also Mimi would Not have been there. Not on her life.

Okay now we're sort of seeing them from Paul's perspective. Bunch of losers surrounding this inimitable shining star.

Accurate that the first thing John says to Paul is about jerking off.

The dynamic in general is just so well-done in this first scene. John instantly testing Paul. How much shit will he put up with? And Paul instantly having none of it, showing off, and winning John over.

All the other Quarrymen just know it's time to dust off the ole resume.

But! Paul's fete “audition” is so toned down for this film. Although of course, accounts vary. He did 20 flight rock, yeah. But he also did it on someone's borrowed right hand guitar turned upside down. And he did little Richard and played the piano, and tuned John's guitar for him. In one telling of it, John says he asked him to be in the group right there on the spot. So. Yeah.

But either way, watching John watch Paul is just gorgeously gay. It's giving extreme “Oooooh, he likes hiiiiiim!” It's actually illegal not to queerbate using Lennon/McCartney and I'm glad all moviemakers seem to understand the law.

Cut to “John, your little friend's here!” Can you imagine if they'd showed the “chalk and cheese” whirling dervish moment? Or Mimi making Paul use the back door? Those might change some thoughts and feelings in this movie.

And then we get the reciprocated “Oooooh, he likes hiiiiiim!” Moment as Paul's too busy checking out John’s buddy Holly Look to remember where he is, let alone what cord they're on. And it's so sweet because Paul's the first person who gives John the idea that his real self is actually cooler than his tough-guy act.

The little matching feet tapping?? Eee it's so cute!

But why miss the opportunity for them to sing in harmony here?

Sometimes the dialogue is extremely inaccurate. “So mummy’s cool about baby Paul wanting to be Elvis?” “Oh she would've loved it.” Like hell she would've. She would've been as disapproving as Mimi. Then again, maybe it is accurate for Paul to be lying about that.

“Well she – she sort of – died. You know, em. If we're gonna do this we should write our own stuff.” Okay yep there he is. That's Paul.

Also love how John gets his first calluses after Paul the bossy taskmaster comes into his life. (You know. And the reason to push himself and a person who cares enough to take the time to show him things and it makes John all dreamy staring at the stars that night etc) Anyway. It's perfect.

And the first gig we see after Paul joins is in a venue on a real stage with a much bigger audience, and the matching suits of course.

Mimi selling John's guitar because of a bad report card is like the lighter, kinder translation of what happened in reality when she had his dog put down while he was staying at Julia's.

So they kinda make up for not letting Paul sing etc by having him nail the guitar instead of screw up at this gig like he did irl.

And he's stealing Julia's attention, which is clearly Not okay with John. Reminds me of that quote of Paul's about how they were both in love with John's mum.

George is appropriately infantile. Good. Cutie.

The Quarrymen playing “That's Alright, Mama” as John's making up with Julia since she bought his guitar back for him. Okay. Very clever.

Paul does Not like John disrespecting his mother after the show for obvious reasons. (“I said something wrong now I long for yesterday.”) But clearly he doesn't have the full picture here. I wonder at what point irl Paul got a full run-down from John on his messed-up family life. Or did he just have to pull it together piece by piece over the years?

And of course he jumps to light Julia's cigarette. Boy was patting his pocket for a lighter like it was the race of his life. Mister steal your mum.

Here we are, ladies and gentlemen, Paul McCartney’s number two complaint about this movie: John was Not taller than him. How dare they? Slander.

That's one hell of a jacket.

At the party, John's of course pissed to find Paul serenading Julia in the kitchen. But Paul just wants a mommy so bad, John. Why can't you just let him have yours since you clearly don't want her? Right, because you really, really do. More than anyone can understand. But when you showed her that – how bad you wanted her to be your mum, not just a friend – she hurt you. Forced you to go through your abandonment all over again. So now you can't show that anymore.

The washboard over Pete's head is almost exactly accurate, isn't it? John does not handle people leaving him well.

Ugh his little voice cracking on the word “mum.” John Lennon is a poor poor baby and I will die on that hill.

I wonder how John did find out about Victoria and the real story of why he was with Mimi. No matter how, though, that's certainly a lot of mess for a young man to be carrying around with him all the time in his head.

“When your father came back from the merchant Navy, he wanted to try and save the marriage, but your mother would have none of it.” I do feel like we're going with Alf’s version of events here, the one he sold John in order to get into his good graces after he was famous. Which is, again, not fair to Julia. I wonder how little Julia feels about this movie.

In fact, I think this part – “who do you wanna be with, John? Do you wanna be with me or do you wanna be with your mum?” – has been categorically disproven. But it certainly does make for some high drama. And John himself did believe his father's story, so there has to be at least some emotional truth there.

Nowhere Boy John: There's no point in hating someone you love. I mean really love. IRL John: How do you sleep, you cunt?!

There he is. Art School John. Though he fell in love with every iteration of John, I think this one never left his head because he was one of the earliest Johns, and he was a John Paul had to fight for, you know, with all the Stu business and dead mother anger.

He really does an excellent job of playing John, though, when he's written right. “Woman took her kit off and we painted her breasts. Not actually physically. I got my eye on you two.” Ridiculous. Charming. Off- putting. Adorable.

Ignoring the fact that I prefer to think of “Hello, Little Girl” as being about Paul (“you never seem to see me standing there”) and they're making it about Julia, this is a lovely scene. With John somewhat unsure still of his songwriting abilities and Paul looking up at him from the floor full of admiration.

Oh he's gonna murder someone. To be fair, I think playing Julia's banjo at her funeral is exactly the type of insensitive thing Paul would do, because he just thinks and feels in music and it makes Sense to him even though of course it's going to piss John off.

Hilarious, and probably accurate tbh, that Paul's pissed John off so he gives Pete a bloody nose.

But here we go, the number one complaint about this movie from Paul, which I think is actually valid. John never hit him and that was important to both of them and it's disrespectful to portray it and play into the myth of their rocky, angry relationship.

But maybe in 2009 that's what it took for them to be able to show John Lennon and Paul McCartney in a genuine, loving embrace, crying into each other's necks about mothers. It has to be preceded by John punching Paul in the mouth.

If I was John's writing partner, my biggest beef with this movie would actually be the scene where they're recording ISOATD and making it look like John wrote it and played the guitar solo. But Paul's never even mentioned it. Which I guess really shows he cares far more about the legacy of his relationship with John than his career legacy. Which. If you mean more to Paul McCartney than his fucking music? Well then you must be just about important enough to have your own movie.

This is really the Vote for Mimi Smith campaign, isn't it? Putting across the screen the fact that John called Mimi every week until he died as “Mother” plays in the background is brutal. Ouch. But it's true. “It's Mimi time.”

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #george harrison #nowhere boy

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bambi-kinos · 6 months ago

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Why do you think Paul keeps saying to this day that John was really sweet. He really wasn't. He treated everyone like shit including Paul. Because he feel he has to? Because he was killed and people made him into something he wasn't? I don't blame John for this ). Or but because he was in love with him and that's what he remembers. John doesn"t deserve it. He's even overrated. Both P and G was/is better. I just don't get how someone like Paul who's a better man, artist and person keeps giving J so much credit. I'm not a new fan of the Beatles or Paul. I really can only see it that he was in love with him.

What else is Paul supposed to do?

Idk man I think Paul is just doing his best with what he has. He's never going to get closure on their relationship. He's never going to get an explanation that satisfies him. So he has to work with what he's got.

You have the wrong end of the stick on this, Paul isn't trying to give John credit that he hasn't earned. Paul is trying to move on from what John did to him by focusing on the good moments and remembering who John was before he was brain damaged by heroin and LSD. If your boyfriend has a TBI that changes his entire personality, is that really your boyfriend anymore? Is he really still himself? These are the questions Paul has wrestled with and it looks like he's realized he's never going to get an answer.

So he's focusing on what he does know which is that the John he knew and fell in love with was a sweet kid who sometimes let his insecurities rule him. But he was still a loving person who cared about Paul and was his closest friend for years.

Furthermore: if John was actually the raging dickhead that the internet thinks he is then he would not have had any friends to begin with. People with truly no redeeming characteristics who are assholes all the time don't get friends who defend them even after they die. The truth is that John was not actually a prick all of the time. Otherwise no one could have stood being around him. Paul calls John sweet because he knew the John that was a sweet guy, the guy that Paul loved.

You're also falling for John's own propaganda a bit. John never stopped projecting the image of being a cynical hard bitten street tough that intimidated everyone into submission with his temper. John occasionally admitted that all of this was an act (see his comments at playacting the Teddy Boy image while not actually being a gang member and why he felt he had to do it.)

But the truth is he never stopped projecting the "I'm an asshole you better not fuck with me" thing. All of this "I'm an irredeemable asshole I hate George and Paul!!!" is pure fakery. The very qualities you don't like were fabricated in large part by Yoko as part of a propaganda campaign, and from what I've read in the Dakota Years memoirs, this propaganda was out of John's control from the moment he started the Lennon Remembers interviews. John is just as much a victim of information warfare as Paul is, he just reacted to it differently and used it to barricade himself away from Paul.

That doesn't mean you have to like John or feel sorry for him or agree with Paul's decisions to try and leave the damage behind. You are reacting to the fact that Paul is visibly in pain when he talks about this stuff. He's bleeding in public and there's nothing no one can do to help him. The wounds are permanent. It is, in fact, rage inducing. John isn't here to speak for himself and try to explain. What else can we do as observers except be angry.

But Paul McCartney is 82 years old.

He's close to the end.

He doesn't want to do that, doesn't have time for it, doesn't want to spend his last years rehashing this shit.

Is there an alternative for him? All he can do now is try to make peace with it while he's alive and then he can finally get closure with John when he moves on to the next stop.

Paul doesn't call John 'sweet' for the sake of John's image. He does it to remind himself of the boy he fell in love with in 1957. Because he doesn't have a lot of time left and he wants to spend it being in love with John, not being angry at him. Paul is doing this for Paul. Simple as.

#paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon #anonymous asks #my meta #beatles meta #post break up #gotta knock a little harder

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harrisonarchive · 7 months ago

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Photo of George (from 1969) by John Haynes; photo 2 (of Doris Troy) via Google.

“Work initially began at George’s home [Kinfauns] in high summer 1969 with help from Billy Preston, before Doris and George went into the studio proper, probably in late September [with Klaus Voormann, Stephen Stills, Ringo, Peter Frampton, Eric Clapton, Rita Coolidge, and more]. […] Harrison co-wrote four of the songs [‘Ain’t That Cute’ and ‘Give Me Back My Dynamite’ are Harrison-Troy co-written; Harrison-Troy-Starkey-Stills co-written songs were ‘Gonna Get My Baby Back’ and ‘You Give Me Joy Joy’] on Doris Troy, arranged the traditional, ‘Jacob’s Ladder’ with Troy […]. When the album was reissued Troy said, ‘Doing that album was a reminder that “soul” didn’t have a color.’” - udiscovermusic.com, January 6, 2019 “George is the greatest as far as I’m concerned. As a musician he is fine and he’s already a good producer, but I think his real bag would be as a missionary or leader of people. He has a great heart and soul, a really beautiful person who is able to communicate peace and joy.” - Doris Troy, Record Mirror, January 1, 1972 “I think [George] had been involved in soul music for years — he listened to it, he loved it, and that’s what made him want to do it. I wasn’t actually introducing him to the stuff, he already knew it. The Beatles as a whole listened to black music, a lot of their soul and feelings came from American music.” - Doris Troy, While My Guitar Gently Weeps: The Music of George Harrison (2003) “[George] was like a perfectionist. He wanted every note to be exactly right. To me, he didn’t have to take that long. We could have knocked it out and just went for the feel of it, you now? But he would take into a solo, man, and take hours to get the solo right. I’m not knocking him or anything; it’s just that that’s the way he was.” - Doris Troy, Unknown Legends of Rock ‘n’ Roll (1998) (x)

#Doris Troy #George Harrison #Billy Preston #et al.#quote #quotes about George #1969 #1960s #harrison productions #(if you haven't already please be sure to check out Doris Troy's Apple album)#fits queue like a glove

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romancingdaffodils · 6 months ago

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Something.

He say, “I know you, you know me”

Remus Lupin x gn!reader

warnings: umm, nothing yet really. Reader wears a dress and there's cigarettes smoking. Is set in 70s UK! (Biblically accurate collars and there will be talk about the riots back then )

Hey! Have you missed me? I bet you didn't expect my return with a 5k word long fic about our lovely Remus. There's more chapters to come, I just wanted to lay the foundations for something new. The titles have been stolen from: Something - The Beatles and Come Together - The Beatles

I can't really explain the plot as it doesn't actually exist yet, but for this chapter: Black family ball - reader makes her formal society debut: joins forces with the other teens there. Its a bit crappy really, but it will get better I promise. I'm just a little rusty. Just know they are magical but aren't yet back at Hogwarts.

Debutant. You were a debutant at a Black ball. You were making your debut in front of the entire Black family, and every other powerful wizarding family. To phrase it as simply as possible: you were bricking it. Your dress was widely uncomfortable and you hardly moved for fear of the corset breaking and tearing you to shreds. Every piece of jewellery that hung upon your body made you feel as though you were a Christmas tree. You’d been primped and preened like a tree - styled to the taste of your homeowner. You were merely being placed on display to impress other families, like a tree.

1977.

Your hands were shaking as you sat in the car beside your stepfather - whose name was William. The man who had turned you from the daughter of the best dragonologist the wizarding world had seen to a Christmas tree. You were his very own all-year-long Christmas tree.

A small sigh left your lips as the car stopped outside of the Black mansion. Then, a larger sigh followed. You screwed your eyes shut before reminding yourself it was one night and then you were safe for a few weeks. Safe from the sheer embarrassment of debuting. You knew no ‘respectable’ wizarding family would see you as legitimate due to your lineage. The only reason your stepfather had enforced your debut was to protect his own image. He had been from a respectable family but had failed to realise marrying a woman far poorer and smarter than him would damage his reputation. He simply wanted you to have the best of both worlds. Even if that meant being a year-long Christmas tree. You understood that, to an extent. However, you couldn’t understand why he had insisted you debuted at a Black ball - especially as it was just before school restarted. You knew the Blacks from Hogwarts. Each and every one of them were popular in their own regard. Sirius Black was actually popular. The rest were just feared. However, if you embarrassed yourself at this ball you knew none of them would ever let you live it down. With Sirius being part of the infamous ‘marauders’, the teasing would be relentless. Nobody wanted to make an enemy out of them. Fortunately, you were almost completely certain not one of the group knew your name. You were rather good at blending into the background despite sharing many classes with them. You had sat next to James in potions during your fifth year. However, Lily Evans had sat on the table beside yours so he never really paid attention to you. It had stung a little at the time - to be ignored by someone so influential. But, part of you had learned to love not being seen by them because you were certain you couldn’t handle the fate of Severus Snape or Lily Evans. You had your own small group of friends; you were happy. Invisible, but happy.

Alas, you cannot stay simply content forever. And, something was telling you that tonight would change the course of your future forever. Perhaps it was your hormonal teenage brain being over dramatic. Or maybe, just maybe, you could change your path in life after today.

Your stepfather helped you out of the car. The house was huge. You would describe it as a mansion. It was made from a stunning grey stone. Each window was perfectly carved out with swirls and edges. Pillars crawled across the front of the house, holding up the foyer. It clearly had ancient Roman and Greek influences alongside being an English gothic manor. As you moved closer towards the home you made it your mission to absorb each detail. There were gargoyles where the foyer met the wall. They looked down at you with contorted faces. One side of the house had a small sprig of ivy crawling up its walls. You had no doubt that would be quickly dealt with. You were then greeted by the doormen who led the two of you through a back entrance up to the second floor. Apparently, it was a Black tradition to have any debutants walk down the grand staircase as their entrance - you know, just to really display the Christmas tree. Your stepfather squeezed your interlocked arms. It didn’t really help your nerves. You and large staircases had never particularly agreed. In fact, anyone who knew you would probably campaign to keep you as far away from staircases as possible. This was due to a rather embarrassing fall down the stairs during your first year at Hogwarts. You were extraordinarily fortunate in that only your friends had seen it. It was now a longstanding inside joke. Your legs felt like jelly with each step you took towards the grand staircase. The doormen stood beside the grand doors. The doors had gold painted around the edges and were clearly a very expensive dark oak. It all made you feel very poor. It had engravings that looked like branches reaching out towards you. You turned your head to your stepfather, who nodded at you. Neither of you had spoken a word to each other after the car left your home driveway. Your name was announced by one of the house elves downstairs. You couldn’t quite believe it was 1977 and they had actual doormen - you were trying to rationalise this by assuming it was a tradition for balls.

The doors swung open. The pair of you walked towards the stairs. You inhaled, and then exhaled. Each shaky step was a step towards finding the buffet table and filling yourself up on expensive chocolates or so you told yourself. You descended the stairs and your eyes scanned the room. Your dress dragged along behind you. Everyone was dressed similarly. Classy ball gowns, expensive silk gloves and tuxedos tailored to a t were all you could see. Then, your eyes landed on a rather odd-looking bunch of people. One was wearing a leather jacket, one a proper tuxedo, one was wearing a tux that was slightly too short and the other seemed to have lost his suit jacket and waistcoat. Suddenly, it dawned on you. It was the marauders. All four were here. And, all four were staring directly at you. Everyone was staring at you. You were clinging onto your stepfather for dear life by this moment. You continued to force a grin as your eyes surveyed the room once again. You locked eyes with a girl in a blue dress. Your own thoughts thanked Merlin as you looked down at her. An ally. Alice Fortescue. Never before had such a great sigh of relief left your lips. You were now able to admire the attire of the room. Brightly coloured tuxedos and oversized collars made you feel at home - it felt like being back in muggle England. The comfort of knowing you weren’t alone allowed you to make it down the stairs without falling. You were then led towards Orion Black, the one hosting the ball. You nodded your head respectfully as William thanked him. You thanked him also, attempting to appear as polite as possible. William kept your arms interlinked as he whisked you around the room to ‘mingle’. You met and thanked countless Black family members for their ‘most gracious invite’ that you were supposedly ‘honoured to have been given’. It became repetitive and slightly exhausting after the fifth person. William then introduced you to the Potters. And, Merlin, they simply exuded rich. Fleamont was kind and jolly: clearly coming from old money. His tux was not at all in the 70s style, but was much rather timeless and extremely classy. Euphemia wore delicate jewellery and a simple dress that screamed and shouted the word elegance. She had complimented your dress. You felt like a fool standing beside her. She was absolutely breathtaking in both appearance and character. Euphemia had also asked if you knew James. You replied with ‘kind of’. She said he probably wasn’t your type of person; he was too much of a troublemaker. You laughed politely.

Then, once you deemed it appropriate and William had found some old friends to converse with - you escaped. Weaving through the crowd, you moved towards the spot where you had spotted Alice.

“Alice! Oh thank Merlin you are h--“ you cut yourself off. Yes, Alice was standing there looking overjoyed at your presence. However, she had company. Her boyfriend - Frank, who you didn’t mind, had his arm wrapped around her waist. And, yes, Frank was okay but, he played quidditch. Gryffindor quidditch meant he brought along the very people you were set on avoiding. Sirius Black, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin. They were all smiling at you. Remus tilted his head down at you - he was standing the closest to you.

“Oh! Don’t you just look stunning. I thought I was going to have to spend the night with these idiots. I am SO glad you’re here! I can’t even believe my family got an invite. Panda is here somewhere too—“ Alice said, all very excitedly. She was then cut off.

“We haven’t met before, I’m Sirius Black,” Sirius said, offering out his hand. You assumed (quite correctly) that he was attempting to flirt with you. Naturally, your instinct was to shut him down.

“I know. I’ve been in your classes for the past 6 years. Actually, I sat in front of you in transfiguration last year.” you stated, deadpanning at him. Everyone in your little group froze, not quite sure how to react to that. Apart from one. Remus Lupin - who laughed. He laughed quite heavily.

“Nice one, Pads,” he stated, rolling his eyes. You often forgot Remus was Welsh. You wished he spoke more often - he was the only tolerable one of the group. You wondered why he had just called Sirius ‘Pads’, but decided to keep questions to yourself. “Well don’t act like you know who she is!” Sirius spat back, like a true diva. Remus shook his head and opened his mouth to answer. He was interrupted by the ever-booming voice of James Potter.

“Oh, Merlin! I know who you are! I sat next to you in fifth year- potions, right?! I remember because you told me that if I wanted Lily to talk to me I should get her to tutor me. Smartest idea ever.”

“Sounds like it was just an excuse to get you to shut up in lesson.” Peter said, shrugging his shoulders. This earned him a jab in the arm from James, who rolled his eyes.

“Do any of you actually know my name?” you replied, sarcastically. You didn’t expect much. Clearly, neither did Alice as she had already interlocked arms with you; she was ready to make an escape.

Remus said it. Very softly. It was so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. “One of us has to pay attention to the rest of the world.” he added, a little bit louder. You raised your eyebrow at him, but Alice had already started to drag you away. You looked back at him, feeling extremely confused alongside conflicted. Why did he know your name? Part of you said it was just someone actually acknowledging your existence, but you really couldn’t believe it. So, once again you asked yourself ‘why the fuck does he know me?’.

You smiled as Panda told a story - it was something about her summer adventures. You’d been a little too distracted with the expensive chocolates to listen fully but, you were sure it was extremely entertaining. You liked Pandora. She was a little whimsical, but extremely smart. She was not one to be messed with and seemed to have rather unlimited confidence. It was infectious. Alice had also offered up a catchup of her own summer. As expected, she had spent many a day with Frank. You thought the pair were adorable. You were certain they’d remain together no matter what. She had retold a story about visiting Cornwall with Frank’s family. To be completely honest, you were jealous. One, of the fact they had managed to have good weather and two, of how truly sweet their relationship was. You didn’t think it was possible for two people so you to be so in love. It was impressive.“Why don’t we go into the gardens? Or do you need to mingle more?’ Panda asked, looking at you. You smiled and shook your head. It appeared William was doing all the mingling for you and you’d much rather avoid the potential for any embarrassment in front of such a crowd. You had a habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.

“Let's go, get me out of here! I don’t know if I can stand this company any longer.” Alice joked, you smiled and followed behind the two of them as they walked.

The gardens were beautiful. All kinds of flowers sprouted from the plant pots. Rose bushes lined the outside. You wondered what spell they had used to keep the flowers in bloom. You had no doubt it was at a large inconvenience to the house elves. Your hands gently dragged over the petals of one of the roses. It was a gorgeous deep red colour. It reminded you of the flowers from fairytales. Alice and Luna were sat on a bench, still chatting. You had found yourself with no choice but to admire the stunning plants. There were archways coated in ivy. Orange trees, with flowers that smelt simply divine. And, your own favourite, daffodils. They were tucked away in the corner, but had still made it into the garden alongside a mix of wildflowers.

A rustling came from one of the archways, and yet again - the marauders popped out. However, this time they had increased in numbers. With the addition of Lily Evans, Mary MacDonald, Marlene McKinnon and Dorcas Meadows they were now ten times more intimidating. They had also gained the stowaway of Frank, who had clearly just been on the lookout for Alice. You looked over, examining each one of them. You then decided that to be their friend you had to be a supermodel. You just couldn’t believe that a group of teenage friends were so absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous. And, yet, here they were.

And then, they all started talking. So easily. Conversation flowed, cigarettes were passed out and drinks were shared. James and Peter sat on the floor; Sirius leaned against the wall and the rest sat across the two benches. You stayed in the corner, admiring the plants. That was until you received a tap on the shoulder. You turned your head. Stood behind you was Remus Lupin, holding out a cig and lighter.

“Oh, thank you,” you said, smiling softly as you placed the cigarette between your lips. You cupped the lighter with your hand as you lit it and then passed his lighter back to him.

“Not a fan of Sirius, then?” he asked, letting out a puff of smoke. He then turned to look at you. He had moved to stand next to you as he placed the lighter back into his trouser pocket. He must’ve discarded his blazer some point after your arrival because he was now left in just his shirt (which actually fit) and trousers. His trousers were a little bit too short but, you could only see it because of Williams's expert lessons in proper tailoring.

“I think his head is a little bit too far up his own arse is all. I don’t dislike him.” you responded. Remus laughed a little, shaking his head. You blew out some smoke. You hadn’t managed to get your hands on a cigarette since before summer. Merlin, this was nice.

“I don’t think you’re the only one who thinks that. He’s alright - most of the time.” he replied, looking over at you once again. You had only just realised who you were talking to - his best friend. He didn’t really seem to mind. You decided to just play it off and hope for the best.

“We’ve never spoken before.” you said, so much for playing it off.

“No, we haven’t.”

“How do you know my name?”

“One of the Hufflepuff parties - I was sat with Alice. I was trying to help sober her up. You came over to take her to bed. I think I said she was fine - you said ‘And how would you know that? You don’t even know our names’. That was in 4th year.” he replied, letting out another cloudy exhale. You nodded, the memories coming flooding back to you. You laughed: a little embarrassed at your rudeness and a little impressed by how brash you had been.

“Yeah, I’m not the best when I’m tired. Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologise - you were right. So, I made sure I knew your names after that. Plus, you always sat on the table across from us at lunch.”

“Oh. Hey - that’s my thing. I watch the other tables.” you replied, jokingly.

Remus chuckled lightly, nodding his head. “I’m sure you do.” he said, tilting his head.

“No, really. It’s how we found out Frank liked Alice, because he was always staring at her.”

“That’s actually quite impressive.”

“North or South Wales?”

“What?” “Where are you from, north or south?” you asked, looking up at him. You took a small drag from the cigarette.

“North.”

“That’s where my grandma used to live! Sorry, I knew I recognised the northern accent.”

“Take it you’re from Northern England, then?”

“Northwest. Best place to be.”

“Home of the Beatles.”

You nodded and then smiled. “Who is your favourite?”

“George Harrison.” Remus replied, lifting an eyebrow at him. You’d placed such an emphasis on the question - which made it appear make or break for your conversation.

“Good choice, mines Ringo. Do you like music, then?”

“Can’t keep away from it.”

“Bowie?” “The best of the best.”

“HE IS! Hunky Dory is my favourite.” you exclaimed, a little over excitedly. Remus seemed genuinely interested in your music talk. Only one of your friends shared this interest; it was nice to have someone else to talk to about it.

“Ziggy Stardust for me. Hunk Dory is exceptional though.”

“You seem like the Ziggy Stardust type.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you like the Sex Pistols? Ooh, have you ever heard of Squeeze? Do you like the Clash? Blondie? The Jam? The Who?”

“Yes. No, but I’d be happy to listen. Yes, yes, yes and yes.”

You were resisting the temptation to scream. You looked up at him, jaw slack. Your eyes were quite literally sparkling. “Where have you been all this time?”

“At the table across from you.” he said, raising his eyebrows at you. You snorted and shook your head.

“I collect records. You’re more than welcome to borrow some.”

“I’m honoured. Would it be possible for me to listen to some with you?” he asked. His voice was soft and smooth. Your eyebrows furrowed. You couldn’t tell if he was flirting with you or if he was being serious.

“Depends on the album.” you said, deciding that was the best response. If he really was flirting with you - which you refused to believe he was - you had to tread carefully. You refused to let yourself forget he was a marauder. He was from the group who had terrorised teachers and students alike for the past 6 years going on 7. You looked up at him, nervously tapping your cigarette.

“Every album in your collection?” he asked, with a resided eyebrow. He now looked down at you. You were facing him with every part of yourself except your body.

“I could make that happen. It might take months though.”

“Happily spent with you.”

“You don’t even know me, I could be secretly evil and that’s why I have a small group of friends.” you said, not being entirely serious. Remus laughed a little.

“Alice likes you.”

“Alice likes everyone.”

“And, I do know you.”

“How would that come to be?”

“Professor McGonagall. She’s making us work together on coursework this year. In her words ‘to bring that lovely little girl out of her shell. She’s so lovely but just too quiet! Especially when she’s in classes with your lot.’” he said, dropping his cigarette to the ground and stamping on it. “Oh, and I saw you taking the piss out of James in transfiguration before summer. That was funny.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“I thought I was invisible to your lot.”

“You were to them. Not to me. I had a little competition going on with you in transfiguration and potions.”

“You always beat me in tests by a mark! It’s so annoying.”

“You noticed?”

“I was starting to think you did it on purpose.”

Remus laughed and shook his head. He dipped into his pocket again. You had just dropped your cigarette. You put it out with your foot. “You look really nice tonight, is what Sirius wanted to tell you before you called his bluff.” he said, finding his lighter and the pack of cigs.

“I don’t need to hear it from him. He’s far too short to give his opinion on my appearance.” you said, joking. Mostly. This sent Remus into a fit of hysterical giggles - interrupted by the occasional cough. You laughed a little at him.

“I can cheers to that.” he said.

“How would all your girls compliment you then?”

“Oooh, low blow.”

“Alright, Casanova.”

“I left that lifestyle behind in 5th year.”

“It was short-lived. May you rest in peace: Remus Lupin the Slag.”

“You will not be missed.” Remus joked, shaking his head. He then moved to light another cigarette. He held it between his lips: inhale, exhale.

“It must’ve been fun though. And, you always have people being madly in love with you. I’m quite jealous really.”

“I’m sure more people take notice of you than you realise.”

“It's taken 6 years for most people to actually learn my name - I doubt it.”

“You’re very harsh on yourself.”

You shrugged, going slightly quiet. Remus felt a discomfort in the situation and knew the feeling well. He decided to change the subject.

“How has your summer been?” he asked, sounding genuine with interest. During your conversation with Remus, you noticed he was extremely genuine. Everything about him felt real. He truly seemed interested. It sent you into a spiral of disbelief; why did he care?

“Good, actually. Thank you for asking. I got to see a load of new bands because we went and stayed in Liverpool for a few days. It was mint. And, even better, I got to go visit the house where John Lennon used to stay with his Grandma in Blackpool. It was super cool. It did mean staying at my dad's though, which sucked a little - but you know, sacrifices.”

“Sounds, wonderful. I spent most of my summer staying with James.”

“Oh, really? Was it good? I met his mother and father - they were absolutely lovely. I wonder how they produced such a loud creature.”

Remus laughed at your calling James a ‘creature’. In fact to Remus it appeared rather ironic that you were talking to him and referring to James as a ‘creature’. Remus was well aware that his scarred face and at times withered appearance were blatantly obvious. However, you didn’t seem to mind at all. “It was good.” he replied, smiling down at you. The memories of this summer truly did make Remus happy. Especially because all four had been practically attached at the hip all summer. The only reason they were at this ball was because Sirius’ parents wanted to appear kind and carling; like they hadn’t miscommunicated their own son. Sirius had only agreed to go if he could bring his friends.

“Wait, sorry, can we back track a little bit. McGonagall said we are going to be working on coursework together? Like for the N.E.W.Ts?” you asked, looking wildly confused.

“Yeah - she said we both had skills we could offer each other in our studying. It also meant I could stop Sirius and Pete from trying to copy my work.” he replied, nodding his head.

“Wow, that’s so random. I wonder why she put us two together?” “I have no idea,” Remus replied, letting go another inhale of smoke. You looked up at him. Silently, he held the cigarette out towards you. You smiled and whispered a small thank you. After two quick drags, you handed it back to Remus - who did the same. The pattern continued as your conversation progressed.

The pair of you continued to discuss music and school. The conversation had then shifted to books and film. Both of you had a shared love for muggle classic literature and Star Wars - both of you couldn’t wait for the second film. Remus said his favourite was The Picture of Dorian Gray. You had agreed it was a good book, but your favourite remained as Pride and Prejudice. As your conversation changed, so did the two of you. You had moved to be sat on the floor, facing the daffodils. This left you with your back to the rest of the group. It all felt very refreshing. Soon, it dawned on you that Remus Lupin was by far one of the biggest nerds you had ever encountered. He was so popular and well loved, but so unbelievably uncool. It made you laugh a little bit. He was just like you. He passed the cigarette back to you, smiling over at you. “So, what else?” Remus asked.

Confused, you tilted your head. “What else?” you repeated back to him.

“What else have I missed about you?”

“I don’t know, 17 years is a lot to cover. What have I missed about you?”

He laughed a little, understanding it was a slightly stupid question. See, Remus never thought he’d have the opportunity to get to know you, let alone actually get along with you. You’d always appeared very closed off and shy - when you weren’t with your friends. It felt good to hear you speak at a normal volume. And, to making you smile felt the best (according to Remus that is). “What do you enjoy doing?” he asked, deciding this was a better way into getting to know you better.

“Reading, writing, going to gigs, listening to music.”

“You like to write?”

“Love it. Fiction and non-fiction. I love to write my own romance fiction. It makes me feel better about the absence of it in my own life,” you joked, rolling your eyes. You didn’t mean to appear pathetic, but it was hard to not be a little self deprecating at times. It kept you humble.

“Id love to read it some time. I quite like writing too.”

“You do?” “Yeah.”

You smiled, offering back the cigarette. He gladly took it. You took a moment to just look at him. His face, his eyes, his hair and his scars. You’d never really paid enough attention to them before. They looked sore. A part of you wondered what the cause was, and another part of you told you it was not your business. You knew Remus had been in one or two fights during his time at Hogwarts. However, it had never been anything serious enough to sustain injuries like those. You tried to push it to the back of your mind but, the curiosity continued to creep up. You drew your eyes away from his scars and instead to his eyes. You’d never seen anything like his. They were brown, but almost looked like honey. You were sure you could study them for years. If you were any good at art, Remus would definitely be your muse. His hair was a sandy brown too. Everything about him appeared to be soft apart from the harsh cuts over his body. He’d rolled up the long sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. You’d found yourself wanting to stare at his forearms. Albeit embarrassing, it was the first time you’d properly liked someone your own age. You’d only ever liked people who were in the years above. Something about this felt a little different: it wasn’t purely physical attraction. He was lovely to talk to, and he saw you. He saw you. That was rare. Looking over at you, Remus lifted an eyebrow.

“Where’d you just go?” he asked, turning to face you. He stretched out his legs and groaned a little, rubbing his knees. “Oh, just thinking. Are your knees okay? You sound like my mum after doing the gardening,” you hummed, laughing a little at your own joke. Remus shook his head, laughing a little too.

“You’re cruel. I just ache sometimes.” “It’s the lankiness. It’s a blessing and a curse.”

“Probably.”

“Unless you have a secret double life.”

Remus thanked Merlin he didn’t have to answer that because James had pointed out the two of you being sat together. Everyone was now making kissing noises. You turned to him and rolled your eyes - he just laughed. It was nothing he wasn’t used to; his friends had always been like this. They continued their teasing until a noise came from the doors. Suddenly, all cigs were dropped and they pretended to be partaking in polite conversation. Much to your surprise, it was William calling your name. Remus stood up, standing on his cigarette. He offered his hand out to help you stand up. You took his offer, being particularly careful not to damage your dress. You smiled up at the tall boy. He smiled back. “I’ll see you soon, I hope.”

“I hope so too. You’ve got a lot of records to listen to” you replied, smiling wildly now. It all felt too good to be true. You turned and waved goodbye to everyone else before rushing off to find William.

You really did hope you would see him soon. He’d allowed you to forget where you were for the moment. He let you forget who you were. You felt important.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #james potter #sirius black #marauders era #peter pettigrew #the valkyries #biblically accurate 70s marauders #loser reader #i heart remus lupin

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