#The 1975 rpf

[abiiors]

midnight, car lights 🌃 // george daniel x reader

a/n: a second fic for the george bbf!au that's been plaguing me lately!! (a third one is coming soon). also happy 10 years of self titled <33 i'm scheduling this to come out at midnight uk time tihi

cw: none really, just fluff and flirting. maybe a very tiny age gap?? like 2 ish years

wc: 3.3k

“let’s go on a joyride.”

those words bounce around in your head like the dvd logo, said to you at 11:50 in the night—whisper-shouted would be more accurate. from under your balcony no less, like some fucked up iteration of romeo and juliet. 

so far you have failed to come up with a coherent answer for george who stares up at you expenctantly.

you lean over the railing, your curiosity piqued. "a joyride…” his words repeated back to him in a disbelieving deadpan voice. 

he nods eagerly. in his hands is a tiny heap of small stones—the source of the clinks on your bedroom window that had scared you half to death. when george follows your gaze, he drops the rocks hurriedly, dusting off his hands. 

“it’s a thursday night…” you point out. 

he clicks his tongue. “and you’re clearly not doing anything.”

your eyes narrow at his little jab. sure he’s right but come on now, he didn’t need to point it out like that.

“my brother—”

“is out on his ‘date’.” he makes a little face at that and you stifle the urge to laugh at how icked out he looks. clearly, some more questions that you need to pester matty with. but that’s for tomorrow. right now you raise an eyebrow at the way he cuts you off and finishes your sentences.

“my parents—”

“are asleep!!” his voice acquires a borderline whiny quality. “i checked!” he confirms proudly and before you have the chance to present him with further counterarguments, he throws his hands up in the air. 

“come on, little healy,” george’s grins a feral little grin, “scared you’ll get caught?”

you bite your lip, determined not to let him see your smile. it’s midnight, you’re in your pjs—an old ramones t-shirt and tiny shorts that barely come up to the top of your thighs—your hair is half out of your ponytail. in short, you’re the ugliest you’ve ever looked in front of george. 

meanwhile he looks like he’s just stepped out of an indie rock magazine—black skinny jeans, a black t-shirt that hangs loosely on him and yet somehow fits perfectly and his beloved vans. at this point, you’re sure george could wear just about anything and still look drop-dead gorgeous. 

“only a little drive? i promise i’ll get you back home in one piece.”

truth be told, you had made up your mind the first time he asked. a slow tingle of thrill slithers down your spine. the goody two shoes who’s never even smoked a cigarette before he came into the picture. about to sneak out the window at 11:56 pm. 

“okay,” you mumble to yourself. the small smile you’d tried to stifle escapes anyway. “okay, fine.”

george grins and whoops silently, fists the air in triumph. it does something funny to your stomach–his excitement. 

“hold on a minute,” you tell him before making a mad dash to your wardrobe for an acceptable pair of jeans and a t-shirt. 

the subtle nude lip gloss is inviting but you know it’s too much. he’s probably just bored on a thursday night and has nothing else to do. so begrudgingly you settle on a lip balm and brushing out your hair. 

it’s fine. it’s normal. and anyway, he’s not going to see you as anything more than matty’s little sister, so what’s the point?

another little rock clinks on your window followed by a soft whisper-shout. 

“hurry up!” the clear impatience in his voice makes you giggle but you look at the mirror a final time, smoothing out your unruly hair. this is as best as it gets. 

after all, this is not a date.

“can’t exactly fly out the window, george,” you respond drily as soon as he comes back into view. 

he looks around curiously, toeing the grass and pulling it loose with his shoes. you can practically see the wheels in his head turning, generating ideas that you don’t entirely trust… matty’s friends aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed—not according to you anyway—but once george gets an idea, it is downright impossible to deter him. 

“that looks good enough,” he mumbles but you catch it anyway, catch the spot his eyes are trained on and your stomach plummets about half a foot. 

“have you—have you lost your mind?!” you stifle your screech halfway through, looking at the boy in front of you like he’s grown two heads. 

george shrugs, looking the least bit bothered and points to the pipe next to your window. 

“it’s sturdy, look,” he gives it two firm raps with his knuckles. “and there’s the brick for you to grab onto. and i’ll catch you.”

the last part has your ears perking up. you look at him with a raised eyebrow. it’s only a floor. the ground below you is soft grass that’s regularly mowed and looked after. if you fall, the most that will happen is a bruised ass (and a bruised ego). besides, the alternative is to go your through the front door and risk waking up the whole house. 

“trust me!” he bounces on the balls of his feet, eager and impatient. 

george stuffs his hands in his pockets, veins on his forearms taut with tension. his colourful tattoos are a stark contrast to his all-black outfit. should you trust him? 

“if i fall—”

“you won’t!” he answers confidently. “i’m not going to let you get hurt.”

your heart skips a beat at how soft he sounds, mumbling the sentence more to himself than to you. a shadow of tenderness crosses his features, or maybe you’re just projecting. just a silly little girl with a crush on her brother’s best friend. a cliché. 

“can’t let my best mate’s little sister get hurt,” he clears his throat. and your heart drops in your chest. of course not. to him you are nothing but matty’s sister. ‘little healy’. 

“’course not,” you mutter begrudgingly and grab onto the pipe.

george stands below you, hands raised, neck craning to guide your steps down the exposed brick wall. there’s taking risks and then there’s whatever the fuck this is. regardless, you have put a disturbing amout of faith is george and now there’s nowhere to go but down. literally. 

the last few feet loom between you and the ground. your sweaty palms almost slip and involuntarily a whimper escapes you. 

“almost there, sweetheart,” george murmurs. that word snags in your brain. all thoughts fly away, and before you know it, you’re missing a step, foot slipping on the rough wall. there’s a split second of panic, the beginning of a scream that dies in your throat as soon as you feel a pair of hands around your waist. 

warm, rough hands on soft skin. 

george, holding you up. 

you’re practically pulled flush against his chest, wide-eyed and flushed from the almost fall. funnily enough, the vertigo intensifies the moment you look up into his eyes. they’re just as wide as yours, mouth parted as if he was about to say something. 

for a fleeting instant, time seems to stand still. the world around you fades into a distant blur as you and george remain locked in this suspended moment, bodies pressed close together, his towering over yours. his warm breath tickles your skin, and you can feel the rapid thud of his heart against your chest.

"are you okay?" george's voice is a hushed murmur, his grip on you firm yet gentle.

you manage a shaky nod, finding your voice after a few seconds. "yeah, i... i think so."

george's grip on you doesn't waver as he slowly guides you back onto the solid ground, his hands lingering on your waist for an extra beat before finally releasing you. you take a step back, both to regain your composure and to put some distance between the two of you. 

"thanks," you mumble, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "i don't know what happened there." you giggle nervously, unable to stare directly into his eyes. 

"no need to thank me,” he smiles, “just glad i was here."

the two of you stand there for a second, the weight of the almost moment hanging in the air. then, as if on cue, george's playful grin returns, diffusing the tension like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds.

"good to know i can make your heart race like that, little healy," he begins with a teasing glint in his eyes.

despite the heat creeping up your neck, a small laugh escapes your lips, the tension finally breaking as you roll your eyes at his cheeky comment. "you're unbelievable, george."

“right then,” he toes a small pebble, stuffing his hands in his pocket. “shall we?”

his car is cleaner than you expected. 

sure there are some receipts and empty plastic bottles on the floor, even a jacket in the back seat for some inexplicable reasons but it’s nowhere near the pigsty that is your brother’s car. 

“in you go,” he motions, casually holding the door for you. internally you’re grateful that he can’t see your flustered expression. 

it’s a tiny gesture, barely even a gesture really—just a boy opening a car door for you. but he’s not just a boy. he’s george—the boy who makes you mad beyond belief and annoys you with the smallest of efforts. the boy who makes you stumble over your words. the boy who is your brother’s best friend. 

“my my, george,” you tease to cover up your flustered silence, “manners. when did that happen?”

george rolls his eyes as he closes the car door behind you, and you settle into the passenger seat. you notice the faint scent of air freshener, attempting to mask any lingering odors from the cigarettes he no doubt must have smoked earlier. you glance sideways at him when he gets settled in the driver’s seat, unable to hide the hint of a smile playing at the corner of your lips.

"believe it or not," george retorts, putting the car in reverse, "i do have manners sometimes. just don't expect it all the time."

another playful taunt crawls up your throat, about to make it’s way out of your mouth when george casually just does the hottest thing you’ve ever possibly seen. your heart is in your mouth as you try not to stare at his arm behind your headrest. george, oblivious to your freak out, focuses solely on reversing the car from its little hiding spot. his cologne—something warm and smoky—fills the tiny car. a space that is so overwhelmingly him that you have to swallow roughly every couple minutes lest you do something incredibly stupid. 

like grabbing his face and kissing him senseless. 

especially with how inviting his light stubble looks. 

instead, you pointedly stare out the window at the dull grey road beneath you. 

“scared?” he teases, misinterpreting your darting eyes. 

all you can do is shake your head. there’s no way you trust your ability to speak right now, especially as half of your brain is focused on not ogling his arms and hands. 

this was a mistake. this was a stupid, idiotic, avoidable mistake. 

“come on! aren’t you excited to do something reckless for once?”

you are, you really really are. there’s no denying it as the car finally maneuvers out of the parking spot and away from your house. 

you let out a silent sigh of relief. the tension in the air begins to dissipate, and you take the opportunity to relax your grip on the seat. you sneak another glance at george, this time allowing yourself to truly take in his features.

his bleached hair is tousled—just the right amout of effortlessly messy, and his full pink lips only intensify the butterflies in your stomach. george is beautiful—from the way his hands grip the steering wheel with confidence to his jaw that tenses as he focuses on the road. all of it makes your heart race again. you can't deny your silly little crush, can’t deny all the times you have wished george was anyone but matty’s best friend. that you actually had the courage to kiss him. more than that you can’t deny all the times you’ve wished he would kiss you first. 

“where are we going?” you clear your throat, distinctly aware of how breathy you sound. 

george shrugs. “maccies, i think. been really craving some milkshake.”

and then he has the audacity to snicker at your gaping face. “a milkshake…” you trail off, wondering if hitting him on the head would be taking it too far. “sure, good to know i risked my life for your milkshake cravings!”

“pfft,” he blows air, taking his eyes off the road and training them on to you. “admit it, sweetheart, you were ready to, oh what was it? ‘risk your life’ for the thrill of it. don’t lie to me now, i saw it in your eyes.”

there it is again, the little flutter in your ribcage at the s-word. george seems so casual about it too, throwing it around like it doesn’t bother him whatsoever. and maybe it doesn’t, maybe he uses that on every single girl he talks to. the thought curdles in your stomach. 

“fine then,” you huff, turning back to the window.

the mcdonald’s is a flurry of people—drunk and high students looking to satisfy their munchies, homeless people looking for a cheap meal and shelter. exhausted employees handing out orders with a dead expression on their face. you almost feel sad, making them prepare two milkshakes at this ungodly hour. 

you turn to george who is busy studying the menu with the utmost curiosity. 

“strawberry,” he mumbles to himself then turns to you. “or no, wait. banana?”

you quirk an eyebrow. “strawberry is superior.”

“which means that’s what you’re getting,” he replies and goes back to perusing.

“if you think, for even a second, that i would let you steal—”

“so territorial, sweetheart,” he teases, eyes still on the artificially lit board. “fine. two strawberries then.”

george places the orders, giving the cashier his winning smile and handing over some cash. she perks up slightly, eyeing him through her lashes while george leans against the counter. a sudden heat burns through you, wild and unpleasant. 

heartburn, you tell yourself. the milkshake will fix it. 

or maybe not looking at george being flirty would fix it but oh well…

so you turn around, finding yourself an empty seat and leave him to bring over the drinks. 

minutes later, you almost jump out of your skin when george places the cool take-out container against the nape of your neck without warning. 

“real mature, george!” the shriek causes a few people to throw distasteful looks your way but he looks absolutely unbothered and oblivious.

“such a grump,” he snickers and motions for you to follow him. 

armed with your milkshake, you settle in the car once again. the car park is almost dead at this hour of the night and you wait for him to start the car back up, for him to tell you what the next steps are but george only taps tirelessly on the steering wheel. a complete 180 from five minutes ago.

tap. pause. tap tap tap. pause. tap. pause. it’s restless and rhytmless; not like his usual tapping where he’s lost in own tune. his milkshake sits untouched, condensation dripping onto the dashboard. 

you wrap your lips around the straw, sucking on it noisely, sipping on the sweet, cool liquid while you observe him closely. “something’s on your mind.” 

your statement makes him blink. so you’re right then, something is on his mind. he’s more fidgety than usual. in the stillness of the night, his thick swallows and knee jerks are painfully obvious. 

“what’s up…” you trail off, unsure if pushing him would be the right move. 

“there’s this–well. i want to–”

“this is new.” the amount of glee in your voice should be disturbing to you but you can’t contain it. because it is new. 

you’ve seen george be arrogant and annoying, laddish and even on occasion, sweet. but you’ve never seen him be shy before. 

“shut up,” he mutters to himself, then sighs loudly. “okay fine, it’s better if i just show you.”

you follow his movements inquisitively, his imperceptibly shaky hands as he takes out his phone and opens up a non-descript recording titled track 11

his phone screen illuminates his face in the dimly lit car as he hovers over the audio file. the soft glow casts a warm, intimate ambiance, making you acutely aware of how close you are to him in the confined space. your curiosity and anticipation mount as you wonder what he's about to reveal.

"i've been thinking about this for a while now," he clears his throat, finger lowering to finally click on the file. "and i want to share something with you."

at first, nothing happens. all that comes out of the speakers is static and then some more static. but just as you're about to speak, the car is filled with the opening notes of a song—one that instantly tugs at your memory. It's a tune that you have heard before, at different points in time. it's the song that matty’s hummed to you on days you were ill in bed, a song you heard them play at band practice. it’s a song that george and matty laboured over for days. the one that brought you all closer together.

and now it sounds all put together. the final piece of the puzzle locked in.

matty’s voice is stronger than you’ve ever heard, adam’s guitar and ross’ bass sprinkling magic onto it. and then there are the drums—precise and clear and passionate. just like how george drums his fingers on his lap now, matching the beat of the song.   

when the song ends, there's a brief silence in the car. the weight of the notes and the sincerity in his eyes hang in the air, leaving you breathless.

"george," you finally whisper, "that was..."

“we finished it,” he smiles, looking down at his lap. “so we recorded it…”

“it’s…”

there you are once again, at a loss for words. almost certain that there might be actual tears in your eyes. 

“that was…”

“shit? derivative? lousy?” he tries to laugh it off, covering up a vulnerable moment with his jokes but you’d be damned if you let that happen. 

“perfect.” 

the words echoes around the car resoundingly. there’s no challenging your opinion. the song is perfect.

“and you listen to me once and for all george daniel, if you call that song names in front of me one more time, if i hear you call it shit and derivitive and lousy again—”

before you can finish your sentence, george leans forward, crashing his lips onto yours. there’s a crackle of electricity in the air around you, the slowing down of time as if you’re having an out-of-body experience. as if you are a fly on the wall watching two people giving into the magnetic pull between them. but george cups your cheek with his hand and you jolt back into your body. 

his lips are cool from the milkshake but the kiss is searing hot, teeth clashing against teeth. your bodies trying to get as close to each other as possible despite the gearstick between your seats. george tugs on your bottom lip, smiling wide as if he can’t help it—grinning ear to ear.

by the time you pull away, you’re both breathing heavily—practically panting. he doesn’t pull back entirely, instead he keeps his eyes closed and his forehead rested against yours. the grin stays on his face. wide and gorgeous and making him look so boyish. 

“um,” you start and break off into a quick laugh. 

"i've wanted to do that for quite some time now," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“yeah?” 

“yeah.”

with some hesitation, george lets go of your face, opening his eyes to look at you a second later. 

“damn, sweetheart,” he sighs again, chuckling a little. “this is turning out to be a great joyride, huh…”

lemme know what you think <33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @beachesgetpeaches, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855 @beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy

add yourself to the taglist

[oh-bonerline]

“I still love you,” Matty says. “If you’d like a status update.”  Ross smiles but it feels like it’s going to break his face in half. “I still love you,” he says back.  “Okay,” Matty says, nodding and withdrawing his hand. “We both still love each other. That’s good.” He clasps his hands together, twisting his fingers around, the skin turning white. Ross knows he’s dying to smoke, but he stays where he is. “Go on then,” Matty says after a moment.  Ross opens his mouth to speak again, to let out all the awful things that might make Matty stop loving him.  

we'll knock around and see - chapter twelve (part two) on AO3

[applesfallingfromblondehair]

this feeling, guess the meaning - chapter 18

Ross huffs out a bitter laugh. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” he asks, shrugging.

He watches George’s face go through a myriad of changes, as if he was fighting a whole war inside himself in the space of a few seconds. Then, George sighs, completely deflated. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

Ross takes a couple of steps towards him, until he’s so close that he can feel the warmth of George’s breath on his face. He touches George’s chest, pressing him lightly against the tree trunk. He feels George resisting him a bit at first but then yielding. “Then you’re just. Like. Me.”

Read it on AO3

and you can find the (very important) companion playlist here

[allylikethecat]

i think it would be a crime not to request this on for the cuddle prompts, i live for matty being a small tiny baby

^ like i mean they're all curled up and look small, covered up so much that all they can see are big eyes peeking out and innocently blinking at them from the blanket. how do you want them to keep a straight face.

I agree! Not filling this prompt would have also been a crime! Thank you so much for sending it in!

I told myself when I started this whole prompt thing that I was going to complete them in the order that they were sent, then you, you lovely Anon sent this one in and I couldn't get the mental image of Fictional!Matty hiding in the blankets out of my head, SO I ended up finishing it next. I hope that was okay! Thank you for sending it, and I hope you like it! Please let me know what you think! (Even if you weren't the one that sent it you are also welcome to let me know what you think lol I thrive on constructive feedback!)

(If anyone else wants to send in Cuddle Prompts they can be found here)

Thanks again!

❤️Ally

melting because they just look so cute all bundled up in blankets 

^ like i mean they're all curled up and look small, covered up so much that all they can see are big eyes peeking out and innocently blinking at them from the blanket. how do you want them to keep a straight face. 

George frowned as he walked through the living room into the kitchen and found it absent of Matty. He had been feeling under the weather that morning when George had left for the studio, yet he hadn’t expected him to still be sleeping at nearly two in the afternoon. His frown deepened when he stuck his head into the bedroom and realized Matty wasn’t in their messy bed either. 

When he found Matty, George was going to have to have a talk with him about the fact that even if he wasn’t going to make their bed in the morning, he could at least refrain from shoving all of the blankets and pillows into a large pile in the center. It didn’t help anything in the slightest and just made it more difficult for George when he  inevitably had to put their bed back together himself in the evening, so they could get in it and go to sleep. He turned off the bedroom light, not wanting to waste electricity and shut the door- lest Mayhem decide to test his boundaries and climb up onto the bed. 

George resumed his search, brow furrowing as he realized Matty wasn’t in the office, the music room, the back yard or the guest room either.  George’s concern grew as he went room to room with no sign of Matty. His car was still in the garage so he couldn’t have gone far, and George really couldn’t imagine him going for a walk, without Mayhem, when he was feeling poorly- especially in the London rain that Matty resented on a good day.

“Where is your Dad?” George asked, sitting down on the couch next to Mayhem and reaching over to scratch behind his ears. He pulled out his phone and quickly selected Matty’s name from his recent calls list. He bit his lip, a weird sense of dread settling in his stomach as it rang and rang before going to voicemail. George ended the call and hit Matty’s name again, relief flooding his chest when this time Matty answered on the fourth ring. 

“‘Ello?” he slurred, his voice rough and nasally, thick with sleep, causing George’s confusion to grow, even as it became tinged with irritation. 

“Where are you?” he asked, jumping straight to the point. 

“What do you mean?” Matty asked before cutting off abruptly, George could picture it clearly, Matty turning away from the phone to cough into his elbow.

“I mean where are you right now?” George asked, not sure how he could be any clearer. 

“Em, in bed?” he said, his words coming out like a question. 

“Where?” George asked, growing frustrated. 

“What do you mean where? Our house? Where else would I be?” Matty asked, breaking off to cough again. “Can you stop and get me some Lemsip on your way home? I think I’m proper ill, I haven’t gotten up to check but I’m pretty sure I have a fever.” 

“I’m already home and you’re not here, also there’s some in the pantry with all that tea your mum keeps bringing that you don’t drink.” George said.

“Why is it in the pantry and not the medicine cabinet that’s fucking stupid, also what do you mean I’m not here I am, literally in our bed.” Matty said, his voice taking on a weak crackling quality after his coughing fit. George winced, he sounded awful.

“I just checked and you weren’t there,” said George stubbornly, if Matty was that unwell George didn’t understand why he had left and why he was lying about it. 

“Babe,” Matty rasped, “I am literally in bed right now come see for yourself.” 

George sighed and stood up,  giving Mayhem one last pat as he did so, his phone on speaker as he made his way back into the bedroom. He turned the light on and glanced around, still not seeing Matty. 

“Are you trying to gaslight me or something? I know that’s something you’ve been working on with your therapist- oh my god.” George started, breaking off when the pile of blankets in the center of the bed started to move and suddenly Matty’s big dark eyes were peeking out of the mound, the rest of his face hidden by the blanket pulled over his head. He blinked sleepily, reminding George of the soot sprites in Spirited Away, he couldn’t see the rest of Matty’s face among the blankets giving him the appearance of just a large pair of eyes. 

“I’m hanging up now,” Matty said, ending the call as George started laughing, wheezing as Matty continued to stare at him from the pile. 

“I had no idea you were in there,” he giggled, “god you really are fucking tiny,” he said, stepping into the room as Matty shifted, sitting up so that more of his face was visible. He had never in a million years thought the blanket pile was big enough to hide Matty.

“I resent that,” he said, “I was just really fucking cold.” 

“You probably have a fever, baby,” said George, coming to press the back of his hand to Matty’s forehead as if he knew what he was feeling for. Matty let his eyes fall shut, humming softly as he leaned into George’s touch like a cat. His forehead felt hot, though George wasn’t sure if it was from the fever or the fact that Matty had been trying to suffocate himself by hiding under every piece of bedding they owned. 

“Probably,” Matty agreed, snuggling back into his blankets, he cracked open his left eye again. “Also stop laughing at me, I’m ill.”

“Could you even breathe under all those blankets?!” George asked, and Matty wrinkled his nose in indignation, not bothering to respond. God, thought George, at thirty four years old Matty shouldn’t still manage to look so adorable, especially ill and unshowered, his curls greasy and askew, two day old stubble shading his jaw. 

“You’re so fucking cute,” George said verbalizing his thoughts, as he kicked off his shoes and undid his belt so that he could step out of his jeans. 

Matty preened as George grabbed onto the edge of one of the blankets, lifting it up so that he could climb in next to Matty. He specifically decided against commenting that Matty had settled in the bed backwards, so that his head was where their feet usually were. Matty let himself be maneuvered into George’s arms, now orientated correctly in bed as George leaned against the headboard.

Matty sighed contently, burying his face in George’s tee shirt covered chest, George’s fingers carding through his hair.  

“So,” said Matty after a moment, “I should have said this before we got comfortable, but about that Lemsip you said we have...”

[fand0mfan]

Truly in my Chaotic Fandom Era.

Today included

—loving on a lot of @amielot’s centaur Dreamling sketches and re-reading (for the umpteenth time) @moorishflower’s Those Who Have Yet To Decide

—positively drooling over @applesfallingfromblondehair’s 1975 rpf threesome-of-my-dreams, I was late, but I arrived

—watching the Red, White and Royal Blue movie on Amazon as soon as it dropped, before heading off on a break from the internet for the next 2 weeks

I used to say I was a serial monogamist in fandom, but it’s clearly POLY TIME!

[kindaorangey]

wait omg the "i am not afraid, said noah/i was born for this" spiel at the beginning of ark concerts is literally their version of the 1975 title track

[seeyoundoit]

scratchy

"Are you sure?" he asked while his hand gently touched one of her cheeks.

She smiled and nodded. She must look like a crazy person right now, but she loves him so much. His concern. His beauty. Fuck, he is so beautiful.

"You were just doing it, why are you asking me now?" she wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him closer. She knew what all of this was about. They had already had this conversation months before. He resisted a bit, frowning in an adorable way.

"I know, babe," Ross' thumb touched her chin as he delicately moved her head to check the rest of her skin. "But your face is getting a bit red and I think it's my fault."

She had to laugh.

When it came to her and her well-being, Ross could sometimes be prone to exaggeration. She was sure her face wasn't red, nor did she feel uncomfortable in any way. C’mon, she had been kissing this same bearded man for a long time now!

"Ross, are you really going to make me ask you to kiss me?"

Now it was his turn to laugh.

"Hey, I just don't want to hurt you," this time he took her face in both hands and looked into her eyes with a smile. "But that could be fun."

"Kiss me, you idiot," she said aggressively, grabbing him by the lapel of his jacket and Ross comically opened his mouth in shock. "Please."

Taking advantage of the momentum, Ross pressed his lips firmly against hers. They both smiled into the kiss for a few seconds until Ross' arms lowered to her waist and she brought herself even closer to his body. Her fingers traced the hairs on his face slowly as she kissed his soft mouth. She thought of something she wasn't going to tell Ross anytime soon (at least not today): that scratchy feeling that lingered on her skin every time he kissed her was one of the things she loved most. In life. It was a small continuation of a moment they shared, just for her. And also a physical reminder of him. On her. When his tongue touched her lips, she snapped back to reality.

"You didn't hurt me last week, or yesterday, or just now, so just kiss me," she gave him a peck before wetting her lips in preparation for what she knew would be a delicious afternoon in the company of her boyfriend. "And never stop."

Ross grinned and thought to himself while watching her shiny lips. He felt a little bad admitting it but he knew he would be unable to stop kissing this beautiful, amazing creature whether she likes it or not. He wants her too much. He telepathically apologized for the beard burns and trapped her bottom lip with his bad, bad mouth.

[nayedoll]

About you (Part 2 of Baby Came Home)

joost klein x fem!reader

rpf below, please don’t read if ur uncomfortable!!!

this is part 2 to baby came home // i highly recommend reading part 1 for context on this fic!!

cw: 18+, nsfw, smut (f!receiving oral, protected piv), angst, some jealousy ig, reader is kind of a bitch lol

word count: 5k

a/n: some songs that fit the vibe: about you - the 1975 / right - mac miller / thinkin bout you - frank ocean / needy - ariana grande

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You sigh anxiously, tossing your phone onto the big pillows of your bed as you lie down on your soft comforter; it helps soothe your nerves a bit, being in your old bed again, surrounded by your stuffed animals and the girlish decoration of your room that has not changed in the slightest — except maybe it’s a little cleaner now, thanks to your mom.

You really shouldn’t be this stressed about today.

If anything, it should feel nice that your old friends were kind enough to invite you out to dinner, a reunion as they had called it to celebrate the fact that you finally stepped foot in the Netherlands after four years. But whatever emotion you should be feeling right now is subsided by the anxiety of meeting Joost again.

After he left New York, you had been texting and calling each other, neither as friends nor as something more, just enjoying the comfort you brought to one another. And for a while, it really seemed like this was going somewhere, like things could work out again if you tried. But of course, everything had to be ruined; all it took was one question— “Why did you leave?”— before a small argument erupted, one that was enough for you to distance yourself from him again.

Joost was trying to find a reason to why you left, why you didn’t want to come back and be with him and frankly, you didn’t even know what to tell him. You said you needed some time, a few days to think which turned into weeks and months of barely any communication— and now here you were, in the four walls of your old bedroom, getting ready to face him again.

The whole situation sort of reminds you of your first date with Joost; same room, same bed, trying to calm yourself down and pick out an outfit but nothing looks good enough. Your dad still has the TV on too loud downstairs and your mom still comes in your room without knocking. The thought eases you down a bit, makes you laugh as you finally make the decision to leave, already running late.

—

The restaurant is small but pretty, soft lighting falling on the adorned walls as the sound of jazz music and people talking fills the air, helps you relax a little. It’s the same one you used to drag Joost to all the time, the one he would always complain about but secretly loved despite not being the “romantic type” in his own words. You wonder if he picked it out, if he even played a part in the planning of this; the thought is unlikely but still brings a smile to your face.

You walk further into the dining room, overtaken by the loving atmosphere of people laughing, talking, genuinely enjoying themselves as you look around for your friends. You eventually spot them at a table towards the back of the room, all the people you cherish so deeply; Alanis, Apson, Tantu, Lyon and of course, Joost.

With a sweet smile on your lips, you approach them slowly yet nervously. Alanis is the first one to notice you as she rises up from her seat, pulling you into a warm, tight embrace.

“Missed you guys!” You exclaim, hugging everyone one by one, slowly, to put off coming face to face with Joost as long as possible. Inevitably you reach him and god does he look good; the same blonde fluffy hair, same baby blue eyes, an outfit that fits him infuriatingly well, of course coupled with his usual smug expression.

The tension in the room immediately shifts as your friends share knowing glances between them— you get the idea that they have all been informed about your little… reunion with Joost in New York, the memory of him on top of you flashing through your mind and making you swallow deeply.

He beams at you, the knot in your stomach loosening as he hugs you, a small confirmation that things are still okay between you.

“Hey,” You hug him back, maybe for a little longer, a little tighter, something that he doesn’t seem to mind as his big hand caresses your spine. He smells like cologne, it’s the one he was wearing that night in New York, that had your apartment smelling like him for the days afterward.

He pulls back, small smile on his lips, “It’s nice seeing you again,” It makes you smile too as you stare into each other’s eyes wordlessly.

“Alright lovebirds, maybe it’s time to sit down?” Apson says, making you and Joost chuckle awkwardly, reminding you of why you’re here in the first place.

—

After some more catching up with everyone and a few glasses of wine, you can confidently say you’re relaxed and having fun— once again proven to have been overthinking. You’re sitting across from Joost, unintentionally noticing every tiny detail about him, the little smiles, the dimples, all of his mannerisms that you adore so much.

He’s oblivious to it but you’re not the only woman who keeps eyeing him tonight. In fact, the girl next to you has been practically burning holes in his face by staring so hard— and needless to say, it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.She’s pretty, her long blonde hair styled in loose curls and her maxi black dress so simple yet so perfect on her. It makes you sick, even though it shouldn’t be and you know it— but you can’t help the growing jealousy within you the more you stare, her eyes hungry for him and every one of her moves deliberate to make him acknowledge her but he never does.

“I’m going for a smoke,” Joost says as he stands up from his chair, hands digging into his jacket’s pockets to find his pack of cigs.

The blonde girl looks up at him with a mischievous smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement, once again getting on your nerves— to be fair, you shouldn’t be mad at her, letting your envy consume you like a little girl but the alcohol makes it a little hard for you to control your emotions in the moment.

“Are you coming?” He asks, knowing you haven’t smoked yet tonight.

You sigh a little frustrated, not thinking about it much “Not in the mood.”

Joost pauses for a moment, the tilting of his head showing his confusion about your sudden change in attitude. Nevertheless, he gives you a small nod and leaves… you feel somewhat bad now, maybe you should go out there and keep him company.

But before you can even get up, that same blonde girl is already making her way to the exit door, her floral scent pervading the air along the way.

You take a deep breath; okay now you definitely feel like smoking. All the possible scenarios run through your mind at once— what if Joost gets her number? Or worse, takes her back home with him? You don’t think about it much longer and walk towards the door and out the restaurant.

The street is almost empty by now, cold air blanketing your body. Joost is just a few meters away, back rested against the brick wall as he lights his cigarette and— as expected— the girl is standing in front of him, making conversation; you can’t hear what she says but it makes Joost smile, giving you enough of a reason to feel even more jealous, a horrible feeling in your throat.

He doesn’t notice you, says some joke that causes her to giggle; you contemplate going back inside, whether this is embarrassing for you— after all it’s none of your business, you’re not his girlfriend anymore. But the pure idea of Joost taking another girl home, kissing her, fucking her the way he did you makes you want to puke, it fills you with rage.

You walk up to them, the sound of your sharp heels on the ground catching his attention. The girl turns around, obviously bothered by your presence and you notice the unlit cigarette on her hand; classic way to approach someone, you think.

You glance at her, bitter smile on your lips. “Can I have one?” You ask Joost, standing closer to him.

“Thought you didn’t wanna smoke right now,” He says but still hands you the pack of cigarettes from his pocket. You pull one out, coaxing him to light it for you as the girl watches.

Now that you came here, you don’t know what to say exactly, the awkward silence making you nervous. Jealousy has always been a bad trait of yours, though really you’re all bark and no bite, never actually acting upon it; if anything Joost always found it cute, teasing you about it endlessly.

“Is zij je vriendin?” (Is she your girlfriend?) The girl asks, pointing at you.

Joost giggles at that, causing you both to glare at him as his laughing comes to a halt. ”Was vroeger,” (Used to be) He replies, taking a short puff from his cigarette, “Het is ingewikkeld.” (It’s complicated)

You slightly furrow your brows, trying to translate the words in your head but to no avail. The girl nods, less confident in her attitude now as she hands the cigarette back to Joost and slowly leaves, mumbling something which you assume to be goodnight.

You’re left alone with Joost, remaining silent as all kinds of thoughts race in your mind. Once again, it’s you and him smoking against a wall, tension filling the air, almost like you’re having deja vu.

“What a nice girl,” Joost says, his tone an exaggerated delight. You nod quietly and take a deep inhale of smoke, nicotine filling your lungs— he’s obviously teasing you and it annoys you how well he knows you, always making it impossible for you to hide from him.

With a simpering smile, he looks down at you and asks, “And really pretty, don’t you think?”

“Yeah she’s cute,” You say as nonchalantly as you can, peering at Joost when he lets out a low laugh as if he’s mocking you. “What?”

He looks back at you with a cocky smile, “You’re jealous,” He says with such confidence it drives you insane, makes you want to punch his pretty face (and kiss it better afterwards).

You scoff, “No I’m not,” You avoid his eyes, the uncertainty evident in your words.

“Admit it,” He smirks, you feel his eyes scanning your face that has a pinkish blush on it from his teasing, though you’d like to think it’s because of the cold.

You glance at him as he raises an eyebrow, waiting for your response. “You’re so full of yourself,” You chuckle, blowing the smoke away from his face.

Joost giggles, more so amused than anything else by the way you’re acting, so timid for nothing.

“And you’re jealous.”

You roll your eyes, suppressing a smile. “Fine,” You sigh as he puckers his lips a little, a sly smile hidden behind them. “I admit I was a little… bothered by a girl flirting with my ex. So sue me for that.”

Joost crosses his arms, grinning widely. “Really?” He emphasizes, taunting you.

“Yes, really.” You repeat his words back to him with the same assertive tone.

“Is bothered the new way to say jealous?” He feigns confusion, his finger scratching the top of his head.

Unbelievable, you think. You groan, stubbing out your cigarette with your shoe,

“You know what, I’m going back inside.”You’re not actually mad with him but more so matching his playfulness and teasing him back.

When you turn around to leave Joost gently tugs at your arm, pulling you back to him as he throws his finished cigarette away.

“Hey, hey, hey, come on, I’m sorry.” He giggles, using this as an opportunity to grab you by the waist, bring you closer as you pout your lips at him. “I get it,” He murmurs.

“You get it?” You raise an eyebrow, unsure of what exactly it is that he’s getting. His touch on your skin is strong, it makes you lightheaded as you look up at him under the yellowish street lights.

He nods, “I’d be jealous too if some guy was flirting with you,” You smile a little, fighting to keep your composure. Joost was never the toxic and overprotective type, but you loved it whenever he got a little jealous, expressing it in petty but cute ways be it kissing you more than usual or being clingy with you in front of other men.

“Yeah?” You ask him.

“Mhm.” His lips are close to yours, the tips of your noses brushing together. “Although I bet tons of guys have flirted with you since I left New York, am I right?” His voice is lower, raspy sending a warmth through your body even in the middle of the cold night.

“Maybe,” You bite your lip, slowly sliding your hands up the sides of his neck.

Some men had indeed approached you in those months, none of whom you bothered giving a chance to. It didn’t matter how attractive or successful or charming they were— they weren’t Joost and that was enough for you to turn them down.

Joost presses a few kisses on your jaw and the crook of your neck, his lips wet and soft on your skin. “I bet you flirt a lot too,” He mumbles against your neck as tingles erupt all over your body. “Talking to anyone but me,” His words are bittersweet, petty as he nips at your skin and makes you moan quietly. You didn’t text me either, is what you want to say but bickering right now seems a little pointless.

“Let me make it up to you,” You whisper, holding his face in your hands as you lean in to kiss him. Your lips press together hungrily, savoring the taste of wine and cigarettes on his tongue. His hands grab your ass tightly, squeezing it as you let out little sounds into the kiss, sounds that make Joost crumble into pieces all the more. Your sweet scent stimulates his senses, makes him go crazy as he feels himself grow harder.

“Oh damn,” You cut the kiss short, turning around to see Apson and Teun, a shared amusement on their faces— definitely not awkward.

“Okay! I guess we’re not smoking after all,” Apson says, urging Teun to go back inside as you hear Joost laugh behind you.

“No, it’s okay. We were gonna head back inside anyways,” You step back from Joost, fixing your skirt as you wave them over to where you are.

“We were?” Joost asks, you slap him on his arm smiling. “Okay,” He nods, following you inside as he mumbles something to the guys which makes all of them laugh; you assume he scolded them for interrupting your heated moment, seeing as he playfully hits Tantu on his shoulder.

“Wait,” You stop him before he pushes the glass door open, gently grabbing his chin in your hand. Joost looks down at you like a confused puppy, it almost makes you laugh as you brush your lip gloss off his lips. “There.” You smile as he thanks you.

“My place tonight?” He whispers softly, brushing his thumb against your cheek and you nod.

Alanis and Lyon are still in their seats, talking when you come in. They look up at you, smile knowingly at each other because it is so obvious what you and Joost were doing out there, your faces flustered and Joost’s hair unruly.

Joost, as always, breaks the awkward silence, says something about how his steak is shaped like Belgium… which works well enough to switch the subject. Peeking at your right, you notice the blonde girl from before— she seems fairly disappointed, not looking at Joost anymore and it gives you a weird sense of pride, knowing he picked you again, that you’re the one going home with him tonight; hopefully you’ll talk to him later, tell him the thing you’ve been meaning to say all night.

—

Your friends ended up going for drinks after the dinner which you and Joost politely declined, opting to walk the twenty minutes back to his house.

There’s a light breeze in the air, giving you enough of an excuse to get closer to Joost and hug him from behind, your arms around his stomach— maybe it’s too romantic of a gesture but he clearly doesn’t mind as he keeps on fumbling with his set of keys, a small smile on his lips.

Finally unlocking the door, he ushers you inside his house; it’s different to his old one, bigger and surprisingly cleaner than you’d expected, though still cluttered with random objects here and there.

Joost notices the way you look around the dark room, the soft moonlight coming in through the big windows. “Like it?” You feel his hand on your ass, his body pressing you gently against the door.

Placing both arms around his neck you smile, his chest warm against yours. “Yeah. You have good taste in furniture,”

“You should see my taste in women,” His words make you beam against his lips, teeth knocking together as he leans in to kiss you. You deepen the kiss, helping Joost with taking off his jacket that is quickly thrown somewhere on the floor behind him. He does the same for you, kissing along your jaw to your exposed shoulder as your leather jacket falls down to your feet.

Your hand travels down to his crotch, palming his erection which earns you a small sigh from him. Joost pulls you closer by the waist, strong hands caressing your curves as you continue teasing him, your fingers playing with the metal buckle of his belt. In the meantime, you start placing wet kisses on his jaw and neck, your little bites in between making him groan quietly.

“Those are a lot of hickeys,” Joost says.

“Just making sure no other girls approach you,” You mumble; it’s half serious half teasing, you know it turns him on when you’re possessive over him.

Joost smirks, fighting the urge to call you out for your jealousy once again, though he makes a mental note to tease you about it later. He’s too flustered to speak right now anyways, with the feeling of you everywhere; your lips on his neck, one thigh between his legs all while you’re trying to unbutton his shirt (and failing miserably at doing so)— you’re hungry for him and he likes that, likes knowing you’re as weak as he is on the inside, as your hot breath trembles on his neck.

“Let me help you schat,” He pulls back from you, focusing on the buttons on his striped button-up which he takes off at a tauntingly slow speed, biting back a smile when he hears you whine at the loss of contact. Your hands roam around his stomach and chest under his loosened shirt as he fully removes it, then blindly tosses it somewhere behind him.

He clicks his tongue, “So impatient,” He kisses you again, finger on your chin to bring your face closer.

“Yeah because I need you,” You breathe out, feeling his sly smile grow on your lips; it comes out more desperate, more whiny than you intended it to sound, your neediness making Joost’s cock twitch in his pants.

“Fuck,” He murmurs, biting his lip. “Come on, this way,” Taking your hand in his, he leads you to his bedroom— small and messy, full of his scent.

He sits you down on his poorly made bed, the back of your thighs meeting the cool wrinkled sheets. You watch as Joost begins to undo his belt, rubbing your legs together to loosen some of the tension in between them but it does nothing for you— the image of his big tattooed hands on the small metal letters of his belt, Albino, only adds to your arousal. You raise your foot slightly, nudging his calf as he glances at you, your doe eyes looking up at him, practically begging him to hurry up.

He chuckles, pushing his pants down. “So damn needy,”.

He kneels down on the carpet in front of you, the tender touch of his hands down your legs and his tight grip on your calves giving you goosebumps. He takes your high heels off, carefully putting them aside before his lips start littering your legs with kisses.

“Such a gentleman,” You coo, your breathing deepening with each peck on your skin as Joost gently pushes your legs open to gain more access to your inner thighs. There, he sucks on the sensitive skin, coaxing you to gasp; he hasn’t even fully touched you, yet you’re already melting under his touch, aching with need.

Joost stops at the hem of your skirt, his light blue eyes looking up at you from between your thighs, an image you wish you could capture. “Baby can I eat you out, please?”

A small smile forms on your lips. Who’s needy now?

You nod down at him, “Since you asked so politely.” Joost motions for you to stand up, sly grin on his face; he strips your skirt off, his palms aimlessly stroking your legs, giving you a small squeeze on your ass. He gently pulls your panties off, the lace fabric slightly sticking to your skin due to the wetness in your folds.

“Zo mooi,” His compliment sends a warm smile to your face as you stroke his hair. He plants another quick kiss on your clit, the tiny tingling sensation causing you to hiss, then guides you backwards against the bed until your back hits the comforter. Involuntarily, you bend your knees for him as he climbs into the bed, slightly hovering over you.

He leans down and kisses you hungrily, his thick fingers rubbing small circles on your clit as you moan loudly into the kiss from the sudden wave of pleasure. You feel him smile against your lips, a cocky smile at that.

He slowly pushes one finger into your slick folds, “You like that?” He purrs against your jaw. You nod repeatedly, muttering a soft yeah in between shallow breaths. Joost goes lower as he lies on his stomach, burying himself in your thighs, deep purple marks all over them from his previous kisses. Withdrawing his finger from you, he licks up your entrance, making you suck in a sharp breath as your thighs close together ever so slightly, pressing on his head.

He starts soft, his tongue flat near your clit making your skin prickle before he moves down, teasing your hole with just the tip of his tongue.

Impatiently, you push your hips forward, desperate to feel more of him; he nuzzles your core as you both let out a small laugh. “You want me to suffocate down here?”

You giggle, “I will suffocate you if you don’t hurry up,”

He grins, delving his tongue into your slit. You moan as you feel it swirling inside you slowly, making you clench. “Faster,” You breathe out, entangling your fingers in his hair, softly pulling at his golden hair strands. Joost picks up the pace as his tongue explores you, nudges your clit a few times to hear more of your breathy moans. He holds your legs open that are trembling as you chase your climax, your body burning with overstimulation. His thumb is stroking your clit in fast motions, causing you to whimper continuously and grasp at his hair to which he hums sending a vibration through your core.

With that, you come undone on his mouth as you let out a loud mixture of cries and curses. Joost lets you ride out your high, sucking at your lips and your clit. His chin is glistening with your release as he pulls back from you, plants a few gentle kisses on your thighs, letting you catch your breath.

You gaze at him as he sits up a little and grabs a condom from the nightstand. He’s a little sweaty, his face flushed and his hair looks messy as he runs his hand through it, He’s perfect.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He says as he takes off his boxers— your eyes flicker to his hard cock, the tip swollen and leaky with precum. You feel a little guilty, want to take care of him like he did you.

You giggle, narrowing your eyes at him, “That’s how that girl at the restaurant was looking at you, just so you know I’m not crazy or anything,”

“You’re still on that? Baby, I’m here with you now, you don’t have to worry about it,” He softly pulls your hand, making you sit up next to him, kissing you on your cheek.

Smiling softly, you take the condom from his hand, opening the wrapper with your teeth. “Joost?” You ask him as you carefully slip the condom on, feeling his veins along the way. He hums, coaxing you to keep talking. “Can I ride you?” You’re a little shy when asking him that and you don’t know why; today in general, you’re kind of nervous around him and he finds it funny, cute nonetheless.

“Hell yeah,” You look at him again, his warm smile comforting you.

He crawls past you, sitting against the plush headboard as you move to sit atop him. Your face is also flushed, beaming with the afterglow of your orgasm and Joost can’t help but kiss you again, slowly, whilst fully removing your top.

You take his shaft in your hands, adjusting yourself above him so that his tip is right at your entrance before you push yourself down onto him; the residue of your arousal makes it easier for him to bottom out, a drawn out groan leaving his mouth as he does so, feeling you tighten around the veins on his cock. You lift yourself up slightly until only the tip is inside of you before quickly sinking down onto his cock again— you continue this pattern, noticing the breathy moans that Joost lets out, his mouth opened ever so slightly and his brows furrowed.

You pick up your pace, placing both hands on his shoulders for support as Joost squeezes your tits in his warm hands. Locking eyes with him, you almost want to cry with how beautiful he looks, how good his cock feels inside of you, how perfect you are for one another.

“What’s on your mind liefde?” He breathes out, a grunt slipping from his lips.

You bite back a moan, “Joost I want you,”

“You have me,” He chuckles.

“No,” You mutter, “I want you all the time. I love you,” You speak fast, desperate to convey your feelings to him. “I love you so much,” You repeat, burying your face in his neck.

“Shit,” He groans as he starts thrusting into you, noticing that you’re growing tired. “I love you too,” His hands are tightly wrapped around your body, holding you in place as he slams his shaft against you— it’s fast and sloppy, makes you dizzy with pleasure, unable to suppress your loud moans. Your eyes tear up a little at the confirmation that he also loves you— it’s not the first time you hear it from him but you’ve missed it, you’ve missed him and this stupid city that you grew to love because of him.

The pressure is too much, easily leading you to your second orgasm tonight as you dissolve into pleasure, moaning Joost’s name repeatedly. He’s now the only one doing the work, pushing himself into you relentlessly as you kiss him softly on his face because that’s the most you can do right now with how much your legs are burning.

A little later, Joost comes inside of the condom, the sound of his deep moans (and a few whimpers he tries to suppress but fails) filling the room.

You collapse next to him and onto the bed, breathing deeply, your eyes heavy with exhaustion. Joost gets up wordlessly to put his boxers on again, coming back with a shirt on his hand and your panties. He sits down in front of you, gently pulling your tired body up so that he can redress you. “You’re gonna get cold,” He mumbles, his thoughtfulness bringing a sweet smile to your lips.

“Thank you,” You coo, enjoying the feeling of his shirt on your body; it’s warm and big, carries his scent that you love so much. “I like this shirt,”

“Yeah? Keep it. Y’know to have something remind you of me when you go back to New York,” He chuckles a little as he says that. You take a deep breath, looking at him with eager eyes. He senses a hesitation in you, tilting his head in confusion, “What is it?”

“I’m not going back,” You say, your voice close to a whisper. “To New York, I mean.”

Joost grins, “Don’t play with me dude,” He says, shaking his head.

“I’m not,” You chuckle, gently placing your hand on top of his. “I got offered a job here and I’ve been thinking about it,”

Joost’s eyes light up, his dimples prominent. “Liefde that’s great news,”

He hugs you, presses some kisses on your hair as you stroke his back— he never wants this feeling to go away. “Date tomorrow?” He asks in your ear.

“Mhm.” You smile and kiss him softly, staying in the comfort of his arms. You get a good feeling, one that you haven’t had in years; you will go on that date and things will work out between you and you will never let him go again.

“I love you.”

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thank you sm for reading!!! i hope this met everyone’s expectations lol 😭🥹

[kevotsuka]

you have a mechanic alex au?? ? where can we read iiiit 🧎🏻‍♀️

(Anon 2 from the Wip Ask Game)

i was in tumblr jail but now im FREEEE (barely)

First of all, i’m so sorry for the late response orz orz orz

actually this AU just exists in my docs in a kinda of timeline and in my head (and in my friend DMs in a 3min voice note who was ignored. so i dont think it was really interesant after all jajaja /dies) but if u want some thoughts (?

So I knew that at first Alex M wanted to be his brother's mechanic, I knew that it was Marc who convinced him to get on a bike and race with him and all that, but recently I had this idea of ​​"What would have happened if Alex really would have become Marc's mechanic, but during Marc's debacle he stay at Honda and wouldn't have been able to follow him to Gresini?"

.🙂

It was a little mental exercise. Alex encourages Marc to go to Gresini because he hates seeing his brother break himself over and over again AND MAYBE HE FEELS RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MOTORCYCLE HURTING HIM SO MUCH WHO KNOWS. Alex always wants the best for Marc, even if it's not at Honda.

The only thing that didn't convince me at all was Alex's age (because I love bending reality for the RPF, but I have a lot more fun creating scenarios that are more or less plausible in my head lol) until…

I remembered that I had read THIS article by Santi and then I did the maths (lol): born in 1975. Professional at 17 in '92. In the world championship in '96 at 21.

In '99 he won with crivillé at 24. In 2003 with Vale in Honda as a 28 years old. It becomes confusing what he does between 2005-2010 because I don't want to do research, but he becomes part of some rider teams in 125cc apparently? -

He becomes in Marc's chief mechanic in 2011 at the age of 36 and moving up to MotoGP at the age of 38 in 2013.

So Alex's path would be to reach the paddock in 2015 at 19 years old and with a dream uwu

So the TIMELINE is a bit like this:

Alex is a mechanic. He had competed in CEV and everything, but despite this he decided not to make the step up to Moto3 when he got the opportunity to do so after his wild cards in ¿2012¿

In any case, he trained professionally as a mechanic and contact here contact there reached the motorcycle world championship.

He works in Moto2 with Marc VDS for a long time (from 2015 to 2019 maybe) when Honda steals him at the starting of the 2020 season because the previous mechanic there expressed his desire to retire FOR REASONS NOT CONCENTRATIVE TO THE PLOT so Alex can replace the guy.

2020 :)

MiserY

Alex go to LCR because Marc's team was out of work for the rest of the season adapting everything for Stefan :), plus there is a vacance (that is a word in english?) to fill in the LCR because of COVID and Alex has the skills for it and yada yada

At least the honda mechanic said he is going to retire, not WHEN.

The 2020 season is- fucked. Alex is trying to be a kind brother.

He gets so tired with the press coming to the garage and asking about his brother every week that he takes refuge inside the box. The cameras struggle to find him during the moments before the race.

His move up to Honda is delayed because the LCR team is keeping him because he works well with them.

2021-2022 seasons happen :). He is retained by LCR, he is getting tired of presenting his transfer, but at least he has become familiar with the HR people (I am 100% sure that is not how these workers work, I don't care).

2023 :3

Finally. he can go to Honda! Finally he is on his brother's team! HE CAN FINALLY FULFILL HIS- childhood dream? promise? life goal? idk

Alex looks at Marc's data - which he always had access to as a meddling younger brother, but which he now works on every week - and wants to cry. That bike is not supposed to be able to do what Marc achieves with it.

When Marc falls in Portimao and takes Miguel with him, he looks longingly at the LCR box and asks himself why he wanted this job. Maybe Rins wouldn't be giving him such a headache.

Marc is signed by Gresini, which leaves Honda to search for a rider and Alex to deal with whoever they are going to sign, because he stay at the team and will definitely deal with the new rider

Nov 12 - Alex hears the Marini to Honda rumor and thinks “ha, it definitely won't happen”

November - Luca Marini, brother of Valentino Rossi, is signed by Honda

LUCA MARINI

ROSSI'S BROTHER

Alex is a professional and as soon as he hears about it, he turns around and asks for a transfer to Mir's team.

(not Zarco or Nakagami because he already went through LCR and he won't go back there even if they point a gun at him, thank you very much) (he might consider it if they paid better-)

He prefers to avoid from the beginning any type of rumor that says he is doing anything, like tampering ¿? with Marini's bike or something like that.

“Smart boy” he says to himself in the mirror :)

Nov 27 - It is announced that Mir's previous team will now be with Luca and that Santi will go with Joan

Alex wants to diee, BUT HE'S A PROFESSIONAL, so he doesn't say anything.

Luca's engineer makes fun of him a little, he thinks Alex is funny.

He could go back to Santi, but (IN THIS AU, IN MY MENTAL PALACE) he doesn't try because he has this thing that all the Marquez's besides him missed: a general feeling of shame.

They know who the other is, Alex used to be Franky's mechanic in Moto2, so both know a few of stories about each other

Although they have not bonded over the mortifying experience of being younger brothers of (divorced) legends, but they have greeted each other around the paddock and been cordial over the years.

but the paddok is inmense so not that much

The Valencia tests happen and Luca is optimistic and gives a real feedback of how the bike feels and where he hopes to take it, rather than just vague unintelligible and weird noises that don't communicate anything.

Alex already feels like a huge improvement since Cal (his jokes weren't really helpful for data collection) and Rins (whom he appreciates for all the time they've known each other, both as CEV teammates and as his mechanic, but- yeah rins barely starts races during 2023 sooo )

[To be defined] [Future Lucalex] [Maybe past Franky/Alex lol]

I'd like to submit a piece of writing or SOMETHING but I only have short, silly little snippets and they're not really worth it.

[the1975attheirverybest]

the ask about gabbriette following a chef is so funny because what is the bet that (unfortunately) everyone here is following at least one zionist whether it be lana del ray, jack black or whoever so to criticise her based on one follow?

on a different note, bfiafl chapter 5!!!!

omg it was so good and i love how matty and joshua get along and how incredibly evident that matty would still do literally anything for amelia :( and the slap? and what follows? so incredibly hot but also emotionally destroying that the only way he can cum is through punishment and pain and how even his pleasure is painful :( it made me want to sob i had to put my phone down for a second to process that ending because i dread to think what it was like for him after she left

i also saw mention the thing about fanfic feeling weird and fully yeah. i initially wanted to not read and 1975 fanfic because i thought it would be weird to read rpf again (i used to read a shit ton of fall out boy fanfic then other bands but after mainly read fully fiction) but then read one that circulated twitter and then the rest of the one shots in the collection and then went on ao3 'just to look' and now here we are but i guess the thing is whether you fully buy into it and ship it and be weird about it or if its just a fun thing but i honestly still haven't figured out why i cant not read fanfic but fanfic has existed for decades so its by no means a new thing to find weird

more personally though, i went christmas shopping today and it made me really emotional (mainly because of the evocative playlist) because i dont know who to buy presents or what to buy because as much as i should be seeing all of my friends from sixth form i dont really care much about them? like its always such an effort to see each other and as much as theyre lovely and im 'in contact' with them i dont really care much about them that much in comparison to my uni friends because i dont think they've been great friends? i feel like maybe im being harsh because they havent done anything wrong. but its also so many people to buy for and no one has mentioned secret santa. its nust really stressing me out because because i have already spent a fortune and have three gifts to crochet let alone another seven people to sort out and three missed birthdays

im so sorry for yapping so much but if you want i have a couple very pretty photos from this evening!! i also do genuinely want to know how you have been doing especially after the last couple weeks. i hope now chapter five is out you feel less like you're an incapable writer? because you are definitely not!!

Yeah, I mean, it’s weird how some people hold Matty’s partners to a totally different standard than ordinary humans. Also like…all Gabriette does is mind her business. Why can’t people let her live!

Oh my gosh thank you so so much for reading and for caring about what I write and the characters and everything this is such a generous and perfect reading 🥹💗💗 it makes me so happy when people pick up on stuff like that cuz that’s definitely what I had in mind but I never know if it’s coming across or not so thank youuuuuu 🩷🩷🩷

Honestly? If you think about it, most “great literature” is fanfic LMAO. Greco-Roman culture is mostly people shipping different gods and Demi gods and whatnot hahahaha. And then Chaucer and Shakespeare, Donne, Marlowe, etc. all wrote fanfics of ancient literature, medieval British history, Roman war fanfics etc. like I don’t get the stigma around it at all. It can be empowering and a way to forge community and tell stories that you would otherwise not have the tools for or the readership. So…why the fuck not.

No, I totally understand what you mean. I think that sometimes the friends that you make when you’re younger are just through convenience and stuff. Like you’re in the same class together for a lot of the time and you get to know each other. Over time it becomes a thing of “history” like sure they’re so different from you as personalities etc. but you’ve known them for so long and you’ve all put up with each other so it kind of just…happens. Then you go off to uni, you mature personally and intellectually and begin to meet more like minded people etc. and form friendships on different bases. It’s totally natural to feel differently about your previous friends now. It’s part of growing up. Some friendships stay. Some fizzle and come back around later in life. Others just kinda….end. And there’s no one right way to do it for everyone!

Yes yes yes yes I wanna see those pics!!!

I’m pushing through. Honestly I don’t know what’s going on but my mental health just can’t seem to improve lmao. Sure I’ve had bad days before, but not this bad and not for this long. Oh well.

Nah I still want to burn everything I’ve ever written and delete it off the internet. Chapter 5 ESPECIALLY. The pacing just ISNT RIGHT. But I genuinely ran out of ways to fix it so I just let it go. Maybe I just lack the skill set to tell the particular story that I’m trying to tell? Like I don’t even know at this point. Or maybe it’s the depression self-hate talking? It’ll be fine I guess. We’ll have to wait and see lol.

[oh-bonerline]

“Okay,” Ross says, taking in a breath. “Where do we start?”  Matty pushes a bit of Ross’ hair back behind his ear with two fingers, only for the strands to immediately fall back out. So he does it again and then a third time and then Ross reaches up and takes hold of his hand, pulling Matty in, securing his arms around him, stilling him.  With his face buried in Ross’ neck, Matty asks, “What happened this afternoon with John?”

we'll knock around and see - chapter twelve (part one) on AO3

[applesfallingfromblondehair]

this feeling, guess the meaning - chapter 15

When Ross comes back to the surface—shocked, gasping for air, his nose burning from the water that has inevitably gone up his nostrils, his hair sticking to his face and covering his eyes—there are four thoughts buzzing around his head.

One: he had his phone in his pocket, and his phone is now likely fucked.

Two: he had money in there too, a couple of bills he’d forgotten about and that he’d been incredibly glad to find in this pair of jeans he was going to put in the wash, because these days every single penny counts.

Three: he’s just lost his contact lenses in the pool and the world has now turned into a blurry VHS.

Four: George Daniel is a dead man.

Read it on AO3

and you can find the (very important) companion playlist here

[allylikethecat]

Chapters: 2/9 Fandom: The 1975 (Band) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: George Daniel/Matthew Healy Characters: Matthew Healy, George Daniel Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Hospitalization, Drug Abuse, Suicide Attempt Series: Part 1 of The Infection 'Verse Summary:

“I don’t like going there,” Matty responded, jutting his chin out with false confidence. He didn’t have many clear memories of going to A&E, but the hazy snippets were from a dark time. He was sixteen and downed an entire bottle of his mother’s sleeping pills. He was twenty one and had alcohol poisoning. He was twenty four and broke his wrist, falling while a toxic mix of drunk and high. He was twenty six and he ODed for the first time. He was twenty seven and George had broken his shoulder, Matty sitting shaking with fear and withdrawal in the waiting room. He was twenty seven and ODed a second time. He was twenty seven and admitted to detox. He was twenty eight and had relapsed. He was thirty and had food poisoning, throwing up everything he had ever even considered eating ever. He really didn’t want to go to A&E.

.

The nine times Matty went to A&E and why he doesn't want to go now.

.

AKA The A&E Fic™️

[casbooks]

Books of 2023

Book 33 of 2023

Title: Combat Recon Authors: Robert D. Parrish ISBN: 9780312927134 Tags: A-1 Skyraiders, AC-47 Spooky, B-52 Stratofortress, Dust off, F-4 Phantom II, FAC, Medevac helicopter, Nungs, O-1 Bird Dog, Rangers, US USA 14th Infantry Regiment, US USA 14th Infantry Regiment - 2/14, US USA 14th Infantry Regiment - 2/14 - A Co, US USA 14th Infantry Regiment - 2/14 - B Co, US USA 1st ID, US USA 25th ID, US USA ASA Army Security Agency, US USA LRRP Team (Vietnam War), US USA United States Army, US USMC United States Marine Corps, USN LCM-8 Mike Boat, VNM 1968 Tet Offensive (1968) (Vietnam War), VNM An My, VNM An Son, VNM Ap Dong, VNM Ap Nha Viec, VNM Ba Lua River, VNM Ban Me Thuot, VNM Battle of Saigon (1968) (Tet Offensive) (Vietnam War), VNM Bien Hoa, VNM Binh Duong Province, VNM Binh Long Province, VNM Bo Duc, VNM Bung, VNM Chon Thanh, VNM Cu Chi, VNM DRV NVA 33rd Regiment, VNM DRV NVA 33rd Regiment - 1/33, VNM DRV NVA North Vietnamese Army, VNM DRV VC 271st Regiment, VNM DRV VC 272nd Regiment, VNM DRV VC 273rd Regiment, VNM DRV VC 2nd Dong Nai Regiment, VNM DRV VC 2nd Dong Nai Regiment - 2nd Bn, VNM DRV VC 95-C Regiment, VNM DRV VC 9th Division, VNM DRV VC Phu Loi Bn, VNM DRV VC Viet Cong, VNM Go Chua, VNM Hau Nghia, VNM Highway 13, VNM Highway 21, VNM Highway 8-A, VNM III Corps (Vietnam War), VNM Iron Triangle (Vietnam War), VNM Lai Khe, VNM Lai Khe - Claymore Corners (Vietnam War), VNM Lam Son, VNM Lam Son - MAT-70 Gosney Compound (Vietnam War), VNM Lam Son Secret Zone (Vietnam War), VNM LBJ Long Binh Jail - USARVIS US Army Vietnam Installation Stockade (Vietnam War), VNM Loc Ninh, VNM Long Binh Post (Vietnam War), VNM Nha Trang, VNM Operation Arc Light (1965-1973) (Vietnam War), VNM Paris Tan Quy, VNM Phu Cuong, VNM Phu Hoa, VNM Phu Hoa Dong, VNM Phu Huu, VNM Phu Loi, VNM Phu Van, VNM Phuoc Long Province, VNM Rach Tra, VNM RVN ARVN 1st Armored Cavalry Sqd, VNM RVN ARVN 5th ID, VNM RVN ARVN 5th ID - 5th Recon Co., VNM RVN ARVN 5th ID - G-2 Recondo Co, VNM RVN ARVN 7th Regiment, VNM RVN ARVN 7th Regiment - 1/7, VNM RVN ARVN 7th Regiment - 3/7, VNM RVN ARVN 7th Regiment - 3/7 - 10th Co, VNM RVN ARVN 7th Regiment - 3/7 - 11th Co, VNM RVN ARVN 7th Regiment - 3/7 - 9th Co, VNM RVN ARVN 7th Regiment - 4/7, VNM RVN ARVN 8th Regiment, VNM RVN ARVN 8th Regiment - 1/8, VNM RVN ARVN 8th Regiment - 4/8, VNM RVN ARVN 9th Regiment, VNM RVN ARVN 9th Regiment - 3/9, VNM RVN ARVN An Son Camp, VNM RVN ARVN Army of the Republic of Vietnam, VNM RVN ARVN Paris Tan Quy Camp, VNM RVN ARVN Phu Hoa Compound, VNM RVN ARVN RF/PF Regional Forces/Popular Forces (Vietnam War), VNM RVN ARVN Tan Thanh Dong Camp, VNM RVN ARVN Vietnamese Rangers - Biet Dong Quan, VNM RVN Chieu Hoi Program/Force 66 - Luc Luong 66 (Vietnam War), VNM RVN Kit Carson Scouts (Vietnam War), VNM RVN Nguyen Van Thieu, VNM RVN SVNAF South Vietnamese Air Force, VNM RVN VNN Republic of Vietnam Navy, VNM RVN VNN River Patrol Force, VNM RVN VNN RPF RAG River Assault Group, VNM Saigon River, VNM Tam Ne, VNM Tan Hoa, VNM Tan Thanh Dong, VNM The Hook (Vietnam War), VNM Thi Tinh Stream, VNM US MACV Advisory Team 70 (Vietnam War), VNM US MACV Advisory Teams (Vietnam War), VNM US MACV CORDS Civil Operations and Revolutionary Development Support (1967-1975) (Vietnam War), VNM US MACV Military Assistance Command Vietnam (Vietnam War), VNM US UH-1 Huey Firefly Missions (Vietnam War), VNM US USA 93rd Evacuation Hospital - Long Binh (Vietnam War), VNM US USA Phu Loi Air Base (Vietnam War), VNM Vietnam, VNM Vietnam War (1955-1975) Rating: ★★★★ (4 Stars) Subject: Books.Military.20th-21st Century.Asia.Vietnam War.ARVN, Books.Military.20th-21st Century.Asia.Vietnam War.Specops.ARVN, Books.Military.20th-21st Century.Asia.Vietnam War.US Army.Advisor

Description: In 1968, Parrish became a legend among the Vietnamese troops he was sent to train. From setting up ambushes to dropping grenades from the back of a plane to plunging into one ground fight after another, he took extraordinary chances and broke every rule in the book to wage a war few other Americans dared. "A dead honest, often riveting memoir".--Kirkus. Photographs. Martin's.

Review: Let me start by saying this was a really good book, and I'm sorry that we never got a follow up of his time with an Army unit. Well written, engaging, and informative, it was a nice complement to Combat Advisor by Carl Farren.

[veryconfusedunlabeledguy]

tysm for tagging me in this danny ( @airbrushfather) i’ve never done an ask game before this is exciting!

Last song-

a thousand bad times by post malone (could not tell you any of the lyrics to it i do not listen to him whatsoever but that noah kahan song that featured him came out yesterday and so today i was just like? remember that period last year when you obsessively listened to that one post malone album and enjoyed it? so i listened to it and then i finished that one and moved on to a different album of his that i don’t think i’ve listened to before and i’m on circles now, which is the song after atbt so here we are! this is a very random comparison but i feel like charli xcx and post malone have similar vibes)

Currently watching-

fuck all, really (i’m more of a youtube person than a movie/tv person currently but hey, shoot me a recommendation if you’ve got a movie/show you want to talk about! it’s the holidays rn and i’ve got nothing better to do)

Currently reading-

american psycho (i’ve been struggling through it for the past like four months, i’ve set a deadline for myself that i have to finish it by friday because it’s been too. long. and i do want to finish it! it’s just a hard read. i’ve also read a shit ton of hockey rpf lately i just don’t know what the most recent one i’ve read is- probably something by @/hard4softthings bc they’re just so good!

Current obsession-

hockey! so much hockey. i used to be suuuuper obsessed with the 1975 but i sort of lost interest with them after that gross podcast matty did and then in april i went to a kraken game and that’s sort of been it from there!

i have no one to tag uhhhh @silverscribble do you want to give this a go? no pressure or anything but if you’re so inclined!

[seeyoundoit]

burning slowly

The pub wasn't as crowded as other times. But to be fair, Ross had never came on a Wednesday night before.

After more than five days holed up in the studio, George couldn't take it anymore. They had to go out for a drink or he'd take off wherever the hell Charli was and they wouldn't see him for a week. Matty playfully asked him if he was going to leave for Florida and George just rolled his eyes. This was pretty serious.

Ross was also starting to feel the pressure from the demands of the new album. He could feel the tension in the room, in the demeanor of the guys. He needed a break too. Needed to get out of the studio, feel the fresh air on his face and forget for a few hours the madness their lives had become these past weeks.

More than anything, he needed to see you. Be with you.

He missed the warmth of your hand in his and looking into your eyes while hearing the soft sound of your voice telling him how everything's gonna be alright, no matter what.

So he can't help but smile when your laughter echoes through the walls of this pub. Matty and George are sitting in front of you, most likely talking crazy shit. But he can't quite focus on what they're saying because he can't take his eyes off you.

Over there at the back table, it's like you're shining.

There is a light in you that comes from within. And it attracted him from the very first moment he saw you. The way you move, the way you speak, how you left everything behind after getting his call (“Of course I’ll go! I’ll go wherever you are right now. I miss you like crazy, baby”). Light, light, light.

"Here you go, mate."

The voice of the bartender snapped Ross out of his reverie and handed him the pints he ordered.

When he approached the table, Adam got up to help him with the glasses he was carrying.

"You look delighted,” Adam said quietly, raising his eyebrows and smiling a little smile.

Caught. Whatever. He's too far gone to try and hide it now.

“More like an idiot but it is what it is, I guess," Ross smiled back while sitting beside you.

When you felt his presence, paying attention to Matty and George became a difficult task. Especially when Ross got really close to you, his denim rubbing your leg.

God only knows how much you've missed him.

You looked at him and noticed that he was already watching you, adoring crinkly eyes just for you. Without needing to say a word he made all the nights missing him when you went to bed and the lonely breakfasts in the morning fade away. If you could, you'd kiss him square on the mouth right now. But with this audience, you settle for a touch of your lips on his cheek.

"Oh, fuck me! I know you can do better than that," Matty practically shouts and George just looks at him funny before looking at you and Ross again. "It's true! I've seen the two of them when they think nobody's watching."

"You're a creep."

You hardly register who made the comment because a very animated Ross has put his hand on your thigh now and is playing with the hem of your skirt. So, again, you have to pretend you're not affected by this and really focus on the conversation. You don't miss the cheeky grin he's sporting while drinking his beer though.

"Anyway, we're glad you could join us tonight," Adam said to you courteously.

"Especially that one!" Matty pointed at Ross across the table, smirking.

"Very glad," Ross blushed a little and whispered only to you, "thank you for coming, love."

Dropping the shy act rather quickly, Ross pressed his thumb under the hem this time and felt the softness of your skin with little swipes. You think he's just testing you at this point. Being this bold while his friends are present, after days of not being with each other.

Or maybe he's burning. Just like you.

While pondering on this, you noticed George is waving at the door at the front of the pub and more of the band is arriving. Soon you'll need to find a bigger tabl–

"Come here," Ross lifted you and put you on his lap with ease. You were a bit shy and to be honest a little turned on so you gave him a funny expression, at least that's what he thought. All while trying to look innocent and keep up the charade. "More people are coming. Should we not make room?"

"We should," you said while putting your arms around his shoulders. And since him and much less you won't let this go, you put your face close to his and whispered. "Are you cracking, my love?"

With one hand over your thigh and the other holding your hip, he grinned seductively. "Maybe I am".

You gave him a lingering kiss, on the lips this time, feeling drunk on the booze and the feeling of his hands on you after so many days.

"Do you get to go home tonight?" you asked hopefully.

He melted inside and gave you a long lustful look.

"Definitely."