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daydreamngs · 5 years ago

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From Me Too | George MacKay

requested: Hi! I was wondering if you could write an imagine where the reader is really good friends with florence pugh and florence thinks that the reader and george mackay are perfect for each other so she sets them up and they fall in love from the moment they met? i hope it’s not that confusing hehe love your work btw!! (send me some requests!)

warnings: Fluff

word count: 2,267

a/n: Thank you so much for sending in this request! ♡ It’s way longer than I had first anticipated it being so I hope that’s okay.

“I’m telling you, Y/N, you and George would really like each other and I’m not just saying that!” It’s the same line Y/N has heard a handful of times before, just with a different variation to it which always made the woman roll her eyes at her friend. Heavy sigh falls from her lips as she leans back in her chair, head rolling to the side as her eyes squinted ever so slightly at Florence who only stared back with a look of mischievous gleaming in her eyes, a faux innocent pout and furrow of her eyebrows. “Flor, I’ve told you, I don’t have time for that stuff right now.” She’s said it so many times that she’d begun to not believe herself anymore. Was she really that busy that she couldn’t even meet the guy?

The thought of it made her nervous, she hadn’t put herself out there like that in a while and she wasn’t sure if she was really ready to date again after such a long time. Then again, she thought to herself, if she didn’t do it now, the possibility of it ever happening would just get pushed out further and further until she was one of those ladies who never settle down, and just adopts 12 dogs and 4 cats, and maybe a couple of fish too. A groan leaves her lips at the thought of it as her fingers comb through her hair, gripping at the roots while her other hand rested upon the table, her fingertips drumming against the wood. She made the mistake of looking back up to Florence, who smiled encouragingly as if she knew the struggles she was facing in her mind. “You won’t regret this, and if you do, then at least you put yourself out there.” Curse herself for becoming friends with such an amazing, strong-minded person. The hand that was entangled in her hair fell to her lap as she let out a defeated sigh, eyes closing for just a moment, “Fine. I’ll do it.” Little did Y/N know, it was the same struggle on the other side of the line. George was hesitant but still less than she had been to meet him. His reasoning behind not being so sure about this was that it seemed like his career was at a point where he’d be busy a lot of the time. After 1917, he had been reached out to by a lot of companies in the hope he might consider coming for an audition. Not to mention all of the interviews he was still doing with his co-star. So, between that and just trying to live a somewhat normal life with his family, there seemed to be hardly any time for dating at the moment. Don’t get him wrong, though, he wanted to meet this woman named Y/N, he’d heard so much about her from Florence practically bragging up how amazing she was. He wanted to put a face to the name already, as his curiosity was only growing stronger about her. What was the worst that could happen? So, he had finally said yes to the proposal.

Y/N stared at her reflection, nerves balling up in her stomach making it feel like there were a thousand butterflies in her. Her fingertips picked at the fabric of her shirt. This was maybe the worst part about the whole date, picking out the perfect outfit. She liked the one she had on, it was a nice middle ground, not too fancy but also not exactly casual either, but it didn’t stop her from worrying. “Are you sure this looks good?” She fussed, turning around to look at Florence who sat on her bed with a satisfied smile on her face, “Yes, I’m sure. You look beautiful and I’m sure George is going to think the same thing.” In return to her comment, Y/N gave a nod of her head exhaling a big sigh trying to breathe out all of her nerves. She felt beautiful and that gave her some confidence, and as much as she was nervous, she was also excited. It seemed as though it’d been such a long time coming for her to meet the man named George, who supposedly was perfect for her as much as she was for him. At that point, she just wanted to meet him finally. She could feel the palms of her hands growing sweaty as she chewed at the inside of her lip, she began to think about how different they were. He was a brilliant actor, well known for his work and well, she was just Y/N, she wasn’t known for anything. She wasn’t one to be starstruck over celebrities and that much was obvious considering one of her best friends was Florence Pugh, another amazing actress. She couldn’t help but worry that he wouldn’t want to date anyone that wasn’t in the same industry as him as it wouldn’t be easy for him to talk about the struggles, with her not really understanding it in the same way. The idea was silly to think that, and even if he was like that, then he obviously wasn’t the one for her. Though, just as quick as that thought entered her mind, she shook it away with a soft sigh. From what she’s heard about him through Florence, he wasn’t like that, he was really down to earth, a gentleman and very sweet which was highly reassuring to her because she wasn’t sure if she would have accepted otherwise. “I have a great feeling about this, I just know that you two are going to get along so well. I expect to be the first to be told when you two are engaged.” A sharp gasp is heard throughout the room, “Florence!” Y/N’s face had turned an aggressive red, the tips of her ears burning as she shook in her head in disbelief at her friend. By the tone of her voice and faux innocent smile on her face, she could see that Florence was just joking but it was too embarrassing for her. “My God, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were already planning our wedding…” Her hands rub against her pants, trying to soothe herself. A wink is given in Y/N’s direction, a smirk dripping with mischievous, “You never know, maybe I am.”

Any excitement she had felt now vanished in the pit of nerves that was eating at her, her stomach was swirling in a fit. Her fingertips drummed against her thigh as she sat not so patiently. She was very aware of Florence looking at her, “Y/N, it’s gonna be okay. I promise.” The nervous woman gave a nod of her head before letting out a deep sigh, which worked slightly to soothe her. She wondered if George was as nervous as she was. Turns out he was, he had tried about 5 different outfits before he finally settled on one and had fussed with his hair so much that he had to put more hair product in his hair in order for it to look okay again. He hadn’t been this nervous for a date in a while, maybe it was because he hadn’t actually met the woman yet, and Florence hyping her up so much. He seriously felt like a teenage boy going on a date with the prettiest girl in school - a nervous wreck. His stomach was in a fit of butterflies and nerves as he swallowed deeply, exiting his car while checking his watch only to see that he was a little early. This led him to believe she wouldn’t be there yet although what he didn’t know was that Y/N and Florence had also arrived a bit early and were also making their way to the small cafe that Florence decided on. His eyes had been glued on the ground the whole time that he made the small walk from his car to the cafe, and when he looked up, he was very shocked to see the familiar blonde and a face he hadn’t seen before. Quickly putting two and two together, he froze and his eyes grew wide, lips parting. He gazed at the woman he guessed was Y/N, soaking in every feature of hers, finding that he was holding his breath. Cheeks grew hot and turned a shade of pink, his heart just about to burst from his chest. Has he ever seen someone so beautiful? Certainly not … was this what love at first sight was like? Y/N’s eyes scanned her surroundings as she walked, she hadn’t been in this area before but she thought it was beautiful. It seemed very quiet and peaceful, which helped a lot to calm her down quite a bit - she was thankful for it. It wasn’t until her eyes settled in front of her that she found herself coming to a very sudden halt, an explosion of butterflies erupting in her stomach, as she found staring at George. He was a lot taller than she was expecting, as Florence failed to mention it in all the times she spoke about him. His hair was tousled, but not in a messy way if that made any sense and it made her want to run her finger through it. His eyes were a beautiful shade of blue and they knocked the breath from her chest. She’d seen maybe one picture of him after begging her friend to show her one - she knows she could’ve just looked him up but that felt weird and wrong - but it really did him no justice. He was stunning. She noted the faint shade of pink that dusted over his somewhat tanned face, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips involuntarily. He was beautiful, and she was completely enamored. She found herself feeling dizzy for a second, could this be love at first sight? Her thoughts mirrored his own. “George! Good to see you, I’m sure you’ve guessed it by now but this is the lovely Y/N I’ve told you so much about.” For a moment, she didn’t really process what was happening until she did, and then she found herself blushing as well, her smile growing but now it had become shy. Her fingers working to tuck her hair behind her ear as she followed her friend closer to him. Her eyes never once left him, and she couldn’t help but notice how he too seemed to have been knocked from deep thought like she had been a moment prior. Meeting one another in the middle, they found themselves gazing into one another’s eyes, having completely forgotten about the world around them, “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Y/N.” George says, his voice deep and smooth, almost like honey, giving Y/N a feeling she couldn’t quite explain. “And you, George.” She responds, offering her hand for him to shake as she suddenly remembers her manners. As he took her hand, she noticed how it was warm and soft, despite the few calluses he had. His touch felt right to her, as did hers to him. It was just like Florence had said, maybe they were perfect for one another.

It was considerably later now, hours have passed since they first sat down. The sun now setting outside which made the dimmed lights in the cafe much more noticeable. They had decided to sit at a table in the corner where it was slightly more private with there being other people there as well. They could both agree that the date was going much better than either of them had expected. Any worried thoughts they’d had before? Vanished the moment they made eye contact with another. A laugh bubbled from Y/N’s chest, finding herself leaning forward at a joke George had made. It was amazing, she had been so nervous and hesitant to even go on the date with him and now she was having an amazing time. She felt so comfortable with him and that was the weirdest part of it all, not usually being so open and comfortable so fast. It really just felt right, almost as though she was a puzzle piece and he was the only part that fit perfectly with her. A happy sigh fell from her lips, tilting her head to the side slightly, “It’s funny, I feel like I know you already from Florence telling me about you, even though I don’t really.” She thinks out loud earning a nod from the man. “I know right? I feel the same way. It’s like I‘ve known you for a while when in reality we’ve only just met.” He says in agreement with a smile, eyes crinkling in the corners and faint dimples appearing. Those were some little things that Y/N had taken note to in the time they’d spent together, finding her eyes would always linger which in return made faint blushes appear on her face. A content smile made its way on her face, resting her chin on the table and propping her chin on the outside of her hand. There’s a moment of silence and it’s comfortable, then she speaks again, “I think I might have to thank Florence later for doing this.” George smiles softly at this, leaning forward slightly too so they were only a few inches apart. Their noses almost brushing together and their lips ghosting over each other's, “When you do, give thanks from me too.”

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clairedmaddox · 5 years ago

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Hello, My Name is Brian

The following is an excerpt from The Lund Loop Newsletter. To learn more click here.

The old man was grizzled, like he’d gone through the wars.

Time had taken a toll on him and it showed in his scruffy white beard, ruddy complexion, and red swollen nose.

In better days you’d be forgiven for thinking you were in the presence of St. Nick on holiday. But as he sat there in his soiled coveralls you could see there was nothing jolly about him now.

When his turn came, he slowly rose from his seat, and in a low solemn voice said, “Hello. My name is Richard. I’m an alcoholic.”

“Hi Richard,” the room replied.

He stood statue-still as stale cigarette smoke swirled around his work boots, cutting an almost mythical figure of defiance. Like a warrior who’d faced down his own worst demons and spent decades resolutely standing on their graves.

“And I’ve been sober for one week.”

Okay. Maybe not.

I didn’t know what to expect when I attended my first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, but a few things surprised me. Like the amount of coffee drinking and chain smoking that went on. Or the variety of attendees.

The room was full of men and women – both young and old – who, at least by appearance, looked like they came from all levels of social strata.

Yet it was Richard who surprised me most. From the looks of him, he had to be at least 80, an age I assumed you could never reach as an active alcoholic.

But Rich was a professional drunk – his words – and fucking good at his job.

I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry when he described how he rigged up a complex system in his car that enabled him to drink on his drive home from work without detection.

“I removed the windshield wiper fluid reservoir from the engine compartment and sterilized it in boiling water to make sure there weren’t any toxic chemical resins left behind.”

Good idea, I thought.

“Then I replaced it and filled it up with vodka, or scotch, or whatever I had on hand.”

Clever. But how was he going to get it into…

“And then I ran plastic tubing from the reservoir through the dashboard and into the glove compartment.”

Genius.

“So did that work?” asked Bob no-last-name, the meeting sponsor.

“For a while,” Richard replied.

“In fact, it worked so good that I got more smashed each time I drove home. Finally, I got so bad one night that I ran into the freeway median.

“What happened then,” asked Bob, in a way that indicated he’d heard this story – or a dozen different variations – countless times before.

“When the police got there, they smelled booze coming from the engine compartment, and they figured things out pretty quickly.”

This was more than my 19-year-old brain could take and I let out an inadvertent but audible chuckle.

“How about you?” Bob no-name said, turning to me.

“Tell us your story. Why are you here?”

Attending an AA meeting before you’re 21 is like going to couple’s therapy before getting married – a bad sign.

But I wasn’t there on my own volition. I was there by court order – or at least court heavy suggestion – on a fluke occurrence.

A year out of high school, my buddies and I decided to attend a homecoming game at our dear alma mater.

Afterward, as was the custom, we headed to Naugles – the precursor to Del Taco – a SoCal institution, where one could soak up the excess alcohol swimming through their system with 99 cent burritos, bun tacos, and my favorite, the deluxe burger.

It was also a great place to pound low cost, high ABV brews while trying to figure out where to party for the rest of the night. And consequently, the parking lot was always littered with dead soldiers.

When the police arrived that night on their semi-regular rounds, those who were imbibing knew the drill and scattered behind parked cars, lamp posts, or into the alley behind Alpha Beta.

Sober as a judge, I held my ground, and, cocky as all hell, casually leaned against my buddies’ car, just daring the fuzz to hassle me – like I’d seen them do so many times before on The Mod Squad.

Sure enough, one of them walked over to me and shined his flashlight in my eyes.

“What-ya been doing here tonight son?” he said.

“I’M NOT YOUR FUCKING SON, PIG,” I said – in my mind.

“Nothing,” I muttered.

“Have you been drinking?” he said.

“Nope,” I replied, with attitude.

“You sure?”

“100% sure.”

“Well then what’s that?” he said, shining his light at the empty six-pack of bottles near my feat.

“Hah,” I said, cocking my head in a way designed to convey the message, get the fuck outta here.

“Those aren’t mine.”

“Really,” he replied, walking over and picking up the carton. “I say they’re yours. And I’m going to cite you for drinking in public.”

“Yeah, but they’re not,” I said, still unaware that I was playing a game I had no way of winning.

“Okay. Then why don’t we go down to the station and discuss it?”

When I arrived at my court date, I still had some naïve idea that I was going to beat the rap. Take on the man. Break the system.

And with that attitude, I told the assistant to the assistant DA that I was going to plead not guilty. He didn’t bat an eye.

“You certainly can do that,” he said. “But you can get up to one year in jail and a $1000 fine if you are found guilty.”

I panicked and started doing the math.

At the time I was still living at home. I could explain a few days away by saying I was over at Brad’s. Maybe even a whole week with a story about a road trip. But a year? There was no way I could pull that off. My parents would suspect something by the third month at the latest.

“B-b-but no judge would sentence a first-time offender to a year,” I said, surprised by the balls I was showing, while subconsciously knowing that it was some random TV lawyer speaking through me.

“Yes, you’re right,” he said to my shock. “Here is what I propose…”

Ten AA meetings. That’s what he offered. Attend ten AA meetings and your citation will be thrown out. And of course, I agreed.

I investigated the local AA newsletter and found a meeting on Friday nights at a nearby elementary school.

That’s where I met Richard.

That’s where I saw industrial strength coffee makers churning out pot after pot of liquid caffeine and crystal ashtrays overflowing with ash, soot, and lipstick stained butts.

It’s where I saw men and women at the end of their rope – and returned from the abyss.

And it’s where I met Bob no-name’s gaze, stood up, and proudly proclaimed, “My name is Brian.”

Then nothing more

Hello, My Name is Brian published first on your-t1-blog-url

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