#Pebble London
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Adwoa Aboah wearing sequined minidress by Nina Ricci, Marc Jacobs Crystal earrings, and Glass bangles from Pebble London, photographed by Steven Meisel for British Vogue, December 2017.
#adwoa aboah#nina ricci#marc jacobs#pebble london#steven meisel#british vogue#vogue uk#vogue#2017#fashion photography#photo shoot#fashion#style#beauty#2010s
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PHOTOSHOOT: INSTYLE MAGAZINE
Back in 2010, Marina graced the pages of InStyle Magazine. The editorial, which showcased some of the best Fall/Winter 2010 collections, was lensed by Christophe Rihet.
Styling by Amanda Bellan and Frankie Read, hair by Paul Percival, makeup by Cassie Jones and nails by Julie Luong.
We're starting off strong with Marina dressed in a Dior chunky ivory wool knit cardigan with baby-blue silk ribbons and white fur trimming (£1,650.00) which she teamed up with Dolce & Gabbana burgundy velvet wrap bustier dress with draping and jewel brooches (£1,300.00).
Her jewelry here includes a Topshop metal chain necklace with a Pebble London 22ct gold, blue aventurine and silk necklace (£240.00 - similar pictured).
On her hands, she wore a Dorothy Perkins black leather ring (£12,50) and a Sarah Ho London 18ct gold, quartz and tsavorite ring (£2,150.00).
Look n. 2 displays Marina wearing her favorite designer, Vivienne Westwood! She chose one of the final numbers from the Gold Label's F/W10 runway - a lilac silk taffeta dress with exploding black organza skirt.
As in accessories, she wore two studded leather cuffs by Felder Felder (£200.00 each), a feather and 18ct gold headdress by English jewellers Wright & Teague...
...which she then swapped for a Sonia Rykiel beige ostrich feather pom-pom headband (£350.00).
One element I've noticed about this shoot: there's just never enough when it comes to jewelry! Layering chunky necklaces is such an early 2010s thing and this shoot definitely showed how to do it back then.
Marina combined a Djurdja Watson black jet necklace with Swarovski crystals (£476.00) with a Topshop metal multi-strand watch necklace in silver (£50.00)
M further accessorized her look with a Chanel metal ope-work, enamel, resin and gripoix cuff (£1,724.00)...
...and Pebble London mother-of-pearl oval bezel ring (£165.00 - similar pictured) and gold-plated & pink aventurine ring (£145.00).
The HOT Steampunk-inspired metallic gold and black patent leather sandals (£635.00) are signed by Rupert Sanderson.
For the third look of this editorial, the singer wore a white tulle dress with fraying and ruffles from Chanel's collection, which was inspired by Winter wonderland.
Marina's jewelry here included a Tom Binns Design Punk Chic metal necklace (£895.00), a Djurdja Watson gold-plated silver and brass necklace with Swarovski crystals (£389.00), and a Hoss Intropia silk and crystal cuff (£79.50).
Next, she accentuated the waist of her dress by rocking a Hollywood Trading Company studded black leather belt (£205.00).
The look was completed with these black eel skin peep-toe platform pumps (£585.00) from Rupert Sanderson.
Here, Marina wore the Lolita bodysuit (£439.00) from Bebaroque's "Matador" collection with embroidery inspired by Spanish traditional matador costumes and historical embroidery.
She layered a L'Agence cotton skirt (£170.00) with a Topshop tulle and diamanté maxi skirt (£70.00).
Her jewelry starts off with this beautiful Chanel Pre-Fall 2010 "Paris-Shanghai" collection gold metal, enamel and silk tassel necklace (£2,285.00).
She also wore Tom Binns Design crystal earrings (£120.00), the Felder Felder studded leather cuffs (£200.00 each), Pebble London gold-plated, onyx and coral ring (£165.00) and Sarah Ho London 18ct white-gold, topaz and diamond ring (£4,760.00).
Lastly, her black leather biker boots (£160.00) are Hudson London.
For the penultimate look, Marina sports this intricate folded black lambskin leather sleeveless coat (£2,795.00) by John Rocha!
Last but definitely not least, Marina poses in this Emilio Pucci Fall/Winter 2010 mustard-yellow ostrich feather jacket (£4,865.00), which I promise, would go missing if it was near me.
#April 2010#Dior#Dolce and Gabbana#Pebble London#Dorothy Perkins#John Rocha#Sarah Ho London#Vivienne Westwood#Sonia Rykiel#Wright and Teague#Bebaroque#Djurdja Watson#Rupert Sanderson#LAgence#Felder Felder#Emilio Pucci#Tom Binns Design#Hudson London#Hollywood Trading Company#Hoss Intropia#Topshop#Chanel
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💌
HANNAH <3 where to start hmmm. i love your kindness and how you dont always find it easy to express but it bleeds out of you regardless and touches everything you interact with; your long comments on taob when i was a stranger you owed nothing to; your frankly ridiculous amount of fandom connections that used to intimidate the fuck out of me because you were so willing to TALK and PUT YOURSELF OUT THERE and just be kind and lovely and people can feel that sort of personality even through tumblr. idk my mum says there are 'magnetic' people in the world and she often talks about my grandad because he's just someone you cant help but love. if asked you cant actually say what it is, but he exudes such a lovely, kind aura that people are pulled in. i think you've got that.
#i also constantly think about you turning to me with your little pebbles in london and going 'rocks! :)'#core memory fr#ask
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Pebbles Whale Shark by Jellycat
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Go along the bank of the Thames to find a heart shaped pebble i found a stack of three and gave them as a present for mother’s day, when your feeling better take Rosie can be a gift for John when he gets back! x
Sounds like a good plan. Maybe we also find a corpse again. Or at least some bones.
#heart shaped pebble#thames#river thames#london#sherlock roleplay#roleplay#sherlock rp#rp#johnlock roleplay#sherlock answers#gifts for john
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:(
#//juri speaks#juri's fallen london#barnabas just pouting and sadly kicking a pebble down the street
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eye pebbles eyes
lucky eye
https://tangerinedusk.threadless.com/designs/eye-pebbles-eyes/mens/sweatshirt/french-terry?color=black
#eye pebbles eyes#lucky eye#sweatshirt#threadless#threadlessartistshop#art#eyes#evil#evileye#protection#colours#colourful#playful#bright#colourpop#fun#digitalart#london#usa#artist#perfectgift#clothes#Tangerine Dusk
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Later on I take the dog to St Anne’s because she hasn’t had a good run for a couple of days and it’s stopped raining. There’s a fruit and veg stall set up there on a Friday, and Lola takes a bit too much interest in it - she’s not above stealing a carrot and I don’t want her weeing on anything.
I encourage her to
Come out of there!
And I don’t know what else I said, but a woman took the time to ask me
Are you speaking to your dog in English?
I say yes, momentarily confused
And she admonishes me
They don’t understand!
I wonder what language she thinks I should be speaking to Lola in. I know that what she means is there’s no point in talking to a dog in sentences, but I disagree quite strongly. Just because dogs don’t talk the same way we do doesn’t mean they don’t get the vibe or even the gist of what we’re saying, and I know that my old dog, Poppet had quite a large vocabulary. She understood lots of stand alone words including ones that are quite abstract like friend.
I met a bloke one time on a dog walk who told me about his deaf Rottie. He said that before he went deaf he taught him sign language so he could still call him in the park, and so on. I do some sign language with Lola and she understands it fine. Dogs understand more than you think. Their lives are spent studying us.
***
This morning is dry. I need a bath but I want to get the dog walk done first so I put on yesterday’s clothes without washing. The dog wanted to go to Palmeira and Adelaide and I fell into conversation with a man who lives on Palmeira. He told me how bad the drainage is and how precarious the gardens are, bolstered as they are by a wall, which could easily be undermined. He’d lived here for years and knew a lot about the gardens. One thing that I like about them is that the people who live there do quite a bit to look after them. I don’t think that they should have to, though certainly the council services are cut to the bone, but just that between the gardening and the dogs there’s a strong community there. I’d like to live on Adelaide, ideally. Not that there’s anything wrong with where I am.
I’ve run my bath and am lying on the bed typing this and Lola’s big lunk of a head is lying on my left arm. She’s obviously sated, which is good.
***
Are you going to Adelaide tomorrow?
I ask Frankie. The bloke I met earlier told me there was going to be a dog show there. I wouldn’t have been able to bring Lola last year, she’d have been aggy with the other dogs, but now I think she’d like it.
I write the bit above just before Frankie arrives with her dog Kip, and then later ask her if she wants to hear some more of what I’ve been writing, and that bit is at the end, which delights her. I did it on purpose.
***
Sunday is sunny. Lola needs an early outing, so midday is too late for a first walk. My foot’s still sore. I think it might be a bunion after all. So I decide to drive to the beach again because I can write there and Lola will entertain herself. I take the turning for Lex’s because even though I’m not starving I want the sausage roll and a coffee.
She says the sausage roll will have to be cold because she’s only just turned the grill on. I make a disappointed noise and she suggests the microwave.
Just for a little minute, to take the edge off?
I ask.
I wolf the roll and decide the cafe has too many temptations and hazards for Lola so I take my coffee onto the beach and sit down on one of the wave like mounds of pebbles.
For some reason it’s ravens or crows who dominate the cafes here - not sure which? They’re quite big. The gulls don’t get a look in. I noticed the other day in the rain that they hang out at Rockwater too. I don’t hate gulls but I actively like corvids. I had a magpie visitor when I had a bird cafe on my window ledge in Bethnal Green.
It’s not comfy sitting on pebbles so I take my jacket off to sit on. I’m only wearing a vest underneath. Although the sun is hot there’s a cool breeze which feels nice on my arms. I put my beanie on so I can stay warm.
Lola suddenly kisses me fervently so I can only assume she’s having a good time.
On the way here the roads were pretty empty but someone decided to drive right up my arse.
Enjoy your speeding ticket ya drongo!
I think. This must have been because of listening to Helen Garner. She doesn’t use that word though. It’s surfaced in my brain after decades of dormancy. I picked it up from watching Neighbours int the 80s.
Despite the cold I roll over onto my front to keep writing and my legs are pitted with cold. Lola’s beside me chewing a feather. The tide is out again and cronching lazily.
My view now is over dunes of pebbles - a row of beach huts and the hedge behind them, and the roof of Lex’s and a handful of banners advertising beer, coke, Smarites ice cream and the like.
Lola watched a family with a toddler. She likes small children.
Ya wanna walk?
I ask her, and she snaps out of her fugue.
#parklife#beach writing#original writing#actually adhd#actually autistic#brighton#dog#dogwalk#hoveactually#hove#driving#drongo#Helen Garner#Neighbours#pebbles#Lex's#cafe#London#bethnal green
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Treat You Better III
Laia Codina x Reader
Summary: You visit Spain
The language barrier posed a bit of a problem but you could get past that.
The food posed a bit of a problem but you could get past that too.
What you couldn't get past was the topless sunbathing.
You weren't prudish by any means. But you were Irish and the beaches you usually went to in Ireland were full of pebbles. You didn't sunbathe in Ireland. You just hoped that you didn't get taken out by a wave.
Spanish beaches were different though. They were sandy and the sea was calm and all of Laia's friends were stripping off their bikini tops and lying out in the sun.
Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline at how easily everyone did it. You hadn't experienced much cultural issues moving from Ireland to England but now you were getting the experience that Laia did.
Moving from Spain to England was a big thing, full of cultural differences that she had to adapt too. Now you're doing the same.
You didn't know the rules surrounding this so you just decided to avert your eyes and pretend that it wasn't happening.
You sat under an umbrella and contemplated whether it was rude to just duck into a shop and stay there until everyone was ready to go.
"You aren't sunbathing?"
"I'm Irish, luv," You say," I don't tan well. I burn."
"Katie tans."
"Yeah, she got lucky. I didn't."
Laia wiggles under the umbrella with you. She's shirtless just like her friends but you don't feel awkward looking at her. You've seen her naked countless times. Seeing her topless seems a little tame in comparison.
Seeing her friends and other world class footballers shirtless was a little different.
"You don't tan at all?" She pouts at you," I could have sworn you did in Australia."
"You were watching me back then?" You laugh," You little stalker."
Her cheeks turn pink. "I thought you were very pretty. It is a shame you won't try to tan here."
"I'll burn," You insist," And we'll go back to London and Katie will tease me. I'm not attempting it."
"But you tan! I know you do! I've seen it!"
"It's too much effort," You say nonchalantly," I'm happy here. I might go and buy an ice cream. I'm fine, luv."
She looks at you suspiciously, her pout getting bigger and bigger the more you attempt to get away.
"Leave her alone, Codi!" You hear someone yell, Mariona you think.
"I'm just wearing her down!" Laia yells back with a teasing smile," Don't ruin this for me!"
"Ruin this for you?" You echo," I see how it is. You want to see me topless."
She tries to deny it but her stuttered words betray her true attention.
"You're cute, luv, but no, I'm not stripping in front of your friends."
"Why not? You're not insecure are you?" Her words come out in a stream, interspersed with random kisses pressed to your face. "Because you're so beautiful and you're stunning and I think you're so much prettier than all of my friends and you shouldn't feel insecure about something like this."
"Laia-"
"Because you have nothing to feel insecure about. And I love you and-"
"Laia-"
"You should never feel bad about your body and-"
"Laia! Luv, shut up. I'm not insecure. I know I have a good body but...These are your friends and they're topless."
Laia frowns. "I don't understand."
You laugh. "It'd be like if we went to the beach with Katie and Caitlin and they whipped their tops off. You would feel a little awkward, wouldn't you?"
You can see Laia think it over for a moment. She turns it over in her mind. You can see the moment she imagines Katie topless because her eyes suddenly squeeze shut.
"I see," She admits," But you promise you do not feel insecure?"
"I promise," You say, laying a kiss on her lips," Just feeling a little awkward. I'm sure after a few more trips I'll feel more comfortable."
She beams. "You want to come back?"
You roll your eyes. "Yes, Laia. This is your home. These are your friends. Of course, I want to come back."
She attacks you with kisses, pinning you against your beach towel.
"Codi!" One of her friends call," Stop kissing your girlfriend! I want to go paddle boarding!"
"Go, luv," You laugh, pushing her away," We have lots of time later."
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All You Need is Love (and sleep)
Uni is hard. Lando and Oscar turning up on your doorstep makes things much better
Landoscar x reader
1.7K
Moving to London to study music was Y/N's dream. At eighteen years old, she got that chance. Y/N packed up her things and moved into halls. That was the beginning of the best time of her life.
Well, it was supposed to be. And the first year really was. She made good friends, learnt valuable life skills and showed what she could do in her studies.
Her second year was much the same. She had to deal with finding her own place to live and people to live with, had to deal with paying bills and keeping the house clean. It taught her how great and shitty living with other could be be, though.
Third year was a whole different barrel of fish. Y/N ended up living with many of the same people from the previous year, a group of girls. Even though they were shitty to her, there was politics involved.
Third year was filled with essays. Too many essays. Whenever Y/N got a spare moment she was locked in her room, completing her essays. Which meant she had to miss all of her boyfriends races from September onwards.
Lando and Oscar weren't happy about that one. They hardly got to see her when University started again. But they weren't mad about it, they understood. That didn't stop them from missing her terribly.
Being a university student meant that Y/N spent her nights awake, doing her work, and sleeping during class.
On this particular evening she was at her desk, working away. Her eyes were tired and an empty can of energy drink was beside her.
Down stairs, knuckles met plastic as somebody knocked on the front door. Y/N ignored it as she continued working. One of her friends lived downstairs and somebody was bound to be cooking in the kitchen. She'd let one of them answer it.
The knock came again.
Y/N pulled her headphones from one ear and listened.
Down the stairs, Melina, Y/N's housemate, pulled open the front door. "Can I help you?" She asked the two boys in the orange hats, her voice bored. She recognised Lando from the previous year, but the slightly taller boy was new to her.
"We're here for Y/N," Lando said as he looked into the house.
When she'd first moved in, Y/N had sent her address to the boys. Just in case they wanted to send her anything in the post. Lando and Oscar hadn't yet seen the place she now called him.
Melina left them standing in the doorway as she turned around and called for Y/N. "She'll be down in a minute," she said and pushed the door shut, with Lando and Oscar still outside.
Y/N came running down the stairs. "What is it?" She asked Melina as they passed each other in the hallway.
"Visitors," Melina replied and walked back into her bedroom.
Y/N looked towards the front door. Nothing, there was nobody in the entryway. She looked at the pebbled glasses in the front door, at the silhouettes of the boys outside. Through the glass they could just about see the orange at the top of their heads.
Y/N ran through the house, her sock covered feet sliding across the wood. Wasting no time, she pulled open the front door and threw herself at the boys. "Osc! Lan! What the fuck are you doing here?" She asked as they wrapped their arms around her.
"We're here for you, you muppet," Lando replied as he pulled away from them. Oscar held on for just a moment longer.
"Actually, we're here to take you to mine," Oscar continued. "Give you a break from studying."
That pulled a laugh from Y/N. "Good one, guys," she said and stepped back to let them into the house. "You know I don't have time to take a break, right?"
Lando pulled a face. "Sure you do. And, you don't have a choice."
Well, Y/N wasn't going to argue with that. "Let me get my things," she said and shut the door. When she ran up the stairs the boys followed behind, following her into her room.
Y/N's room was surprisingly clean. Especially for a university student. Instantly, Oscar knew what Y/N had done. She'd stress cleaned to procrastinate and then gotten herself more stressed about work by not doing it.
Her laptop was open on her desk and Lando grabbed it as he sat on her bed. "I don't get any of this," he said as he read through her work. When he got bored it, he started looked through her Chrome tabs. It wasn't malicious, Lando was simply nosy. "What's a Valkyrie challenge?" (my smj girlies get it)
"Don't worry about it, Lan," she said with a laugh as she packed her things into the bag.
But then she went to take the laptop from Lando and put it in her bag. "Oh no you don't," said Oscar as he grabbed the laptop from her hands. "Coming with us means no work, okay?"
"Oscar-"
"It's for one night. Please, for us."
Well, Y/N wasn't going to argue with that.
Swinging her bag over her back, she grabbed her keys and the three of them set off. Y/N locked her bedroom door behind her and led the boys down the stairs. She ushered them out of the front door and locked it behind them, not saying anything to her housemates.
Y/N climbed into the back of Oscars car with her things. Without her laptop there, without being able to do any uni work, she felt guilty. She should have been at home, working as hard as she could for that degree.
She was tired. So, so, tired. Y/N yawned as Oscar drove them through London, heading towards his apartment. Ever since he and Lando had decided to kidnap Y/N and take her back to his, he'd been buzzing, excited.
It had all been Lando's idea. Every time they got a text from Y/N, it was the same thing. 'uni work is kicking my ass' or something along those lines. It all meant the same thing. It all meant that Y/N needed a break.
When they got to Oscars apartment, Lando took Y/N's things from her and carried them inside. He slung her bag over his back and grabbed her hand as Oscar locked his car and led them inside.
Once they were inside of the apartment, Lando dropped Y/N's things in the bedroom. The bed wasn't quite wide enough for three, but they made it work. (It was a good thing winter was on it's way. Late at night they'd cuddle close but by the morning the blanket was on the floor).
"Right," Lando said as he threw himself onto the sofa, taking up all of the space. Grabbing the remote he turned on the television and began flicking through the channels.
Y/N settled herself down in the armchair, legs draped over the arm. She folded her arms over her chest and turned her head to the side to look at Lando.
"You could sit here, you know," he said, patting his legs. "Could come and lay on me."
"Then where would Oscar sit?"
"We can all squeeze on here together," Lando answered.
Oscar, who was currently sorting out snacks, let out a laugh. He walked in with a bowl full of popcorn and packets of other food, none of it healthy. "Or, you could go and get us all something to drink," he suggested and Lando jumped up.
As he walked past Y/N, Lando placed a kiss on the top of her head and disappeared into the kitchen.
He was in their for a while, going through Oscar's cupboards for his and Y/N's preferred cup (I don't trust anyone that doesn't have a favourite cup or mug - mine is shaped like a hippo). By the time Lando emerged with three drinks, Y/N was already asleep in the arm chair.
"Osc," he whispered to the Australian, who hadn't yet looked over.
When he did, Oscar let a smile pass over his face. "Should we move her to the bed? She'll get a bad back if she stay's there."
Oscar was the worrier in the relationship. Especially when it came to Y/N. Lando he had with him every weekend at least, Y/N he got to see rarely. So, when he was with her, he showed his love by worrying.
As carefully as he cold, Lando lifted Y/N from the sofa. She stirred slightly, but she didn't wake up. Oscar opened the bedroom door as Lando walked her in. Pulling back the covers, Lando laid her down. The boys carefully worked to get her changed into pyjamas. They wrapped her up in the blankets, kissed her head and waked out of the room, leaving her to rest.
***
When Y/N woke up, she was completely lost. She looked around the room, Oscar's room, and everything came back to her. Yawning, stretching, Y/N stood up. She looked at the pyjamas the boys had changed her into and walked out of the bedroom.
Lando and Oscar were sitting on the sofa, watching a movie when Y/N walked in. They were cuddled up, untouched snacks still in front of them.
They didn't notice her at first. It was only when Y/N laid herself on top of them that they finally looked away from the movie. "Hey, baby," said Lando, his arm wrapping around her and holding her close. "Good sleep?"
"The best," she replied and leaned forward to kiss him.
Oscar cleared his throat. "Alright, you big baby," Y/N muttered and leaned forward to kiss him too.
"I'm the baby? You just took a nap in the middle of the day!"
"Shut up, you love me."
"Yeah, I do."
And then Lando cleared his throat.
"Love you too!" They chorused.
#lando norris#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader smut#lando norris fluff#oscar piastri#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri x reader smut#oscar piastri fluff#f1#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula one#formula one imainge#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#ln4#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader#op81#op81 imagine#op81 x reader#landoscar x reader#poly!f1#landoscar imagine
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Sweet Nothings
all that you ever wanted for me was nothing
Pairing: Jamie Tartt x reader
Warnings: none :)
Word Count: 2k
Author’s Note: shoutout to the muse (whether I mean Jamie Tartt or @andr0medafallen is up to speculation)
It’s amazing to you how comfortable you feel with Jamie Tartt. When he’d first asked you out, you’d expected nothing to come of it. You’d grown up with the idea that when you meet your special someone, it’s going to be so obvious everyone should be able to tell, there should be angels singing and your heart should be pumping and you should realize that this is who you want to be with for the rest of your life.
Instead, Jamie had dropped you off after dinner with a wave and a promise to text you when he makes it home safely.
The next day, you’d invited him on a hike through some trail you’d found a few hours outside of London, just wanting to get out in nature for a while without being completely alone. You’d gone back and forth after that, Jamie asking you out one night and you asking him out the next until the two of you had been going out for over a year.
There had never been one of those big realization moments, just a genuine connection where the two of you just want to be near each other. Of course, Jamie’s unbelievably beautiful and you love his floppy, highlighted hair, but that was never the reason you’d kept going out with him. You just liked being around him.
You liked being around him so much you’d been dating for a year and you have your own drawer in his bedroom.
Now, you roll over towards Jamie’s side of the bed and stretch, squinting into the sunlight that’s streaming through the open curtains. A glance at the clock on Jamie’s bedside table, combined with the cold sheets, tells you that he’s been up for hours, and if you really focus you can hear him downstairs, probably making breakfast after returning from his early morning training.
Next to his clock, there’s a tiny pebble, one that brings a smile to your face every single time you see it. It’s nothing special, just a small, slightly sparkly gray rock, but it’s from that second day you’d spent together when you’d gone on that hike. You remember finding the glimmering rock on your way to the parking lot, and you’d smiled and slipped it into Jamie’s hoodie pocket.
You didn’t know he’d kept it or even noticed it until you started spending the night at Jamie’s place and now you can’t help but smile at it every time you see it. Sometimes it’s hard for you to remember that your Jamie, the one who keeps pebbles just because you’d slipped it into his pocket, is the same Jamie that’s a demon on the pitch, who’s one of the best players in the league because of his tendency to act like a prick.
It seems impossible sometimes, that those two distinct personalities belong to the same person, but it makes you love him just a bit more to know that he feels safe enough with you to let his guard down, that he never feels embarrassed to ask for you to play with his hair and gets excited whenever he sees something that reminds you of him.
In all of your past relationships, you’d thought you had such deep, emotional connections, like you’d met the person you were going to spend the rest of your life with, but that had all ended in disaster. You’d been left heartbroken and embarrassed more times than you’d like to admit but it all seems so different with Jamie. Of course the two of you have an emotional and physical connection, but you’ve learned that love is so much more than that. At the end of a long day, all you want is to come home to Jamie, and you can’t remember ever feeling that way before.
When you finally manage to take your eyes off the glimmering pebble and get out of bed, you throw on one of Jamie’s sweatshirts before making your way downstairs where you’re greeted with the most beautiful sight: Jamie’s at the stove, pajama pants low on his hips, shirt off and hair mused while he hums mindlessly as he makes breakfast.
It’s a little shocking that he’s still in his pajamas, still has that bed-head that you love so much when typically, he’s already been up for hours training with Roy. It’s such a beautiful sight, though, that you don’t want to say anything to make him lose focus, but when he turns and notices you a big, beautiful smile grows on his face and you wish you’d said something sooner.
“G’morning,” he says as he turns off the stove, voice raspy and making his way over to plant a kiss on your forehead, “thought you were still asleep, I was gonna bring you breakfast.” Your heart aches at that, at how goddamn sweet Jamie is and how so much of the world doesn’t see that. Though, you suppose you should feel lucky that you’re one of the only people who get to see this sweet, pretty, sleepy Jamie.
“I can go back upstairs and pretend to be asleep, if you want,” you tell him as he turns back to finish breakfast and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him and lean your head against his back, delighting in the way you can feel his chuckle rather than hear it. “I thought you were supposed to be training with Roy.”
You feel him shrug before he says, “He canceled.” and it seems like a lie but you don’t feel like pushing, don’t feel like questioning the wonderful, rare gift that is Jamie in the mornings. No matter how much time you spend together, it always seems like it’ll never be enough, you’re always left wishing you could have a few extra minutes in your days just to spend with Jamie.
At first, it had been a little bit frightening when you realized just how much time you spent together, but the hours always flew by. It wasn’t until months after you’d been together that you realized you just genuinely enjoyed being around him, that you got excited to do mundane things together like make dinner or read next to each other, not even talking but just being near each other.
It wasn’t love how you’d known it previously, big and flashy and showy so everyone knew how you felt. It wasn’t a performance for the tabloids or your parents, it was something sweet and soft and private just for the two of you. The realization that you were in love with Jamie didn’t come like a smack in the face but instead like you’d remembered something you’d forgotten.
Loving Jamie felt like pancakes for breakfast and messy hair, sweatshirts clean from the wash and oversized pajama pants, a warm cup of tea and your favorite snacks. It was easy to love him, soft and something just for the two of you to share, not the whole world.
So instead of questioning why you get to spend a rare morning together, you place a kiss on his bare shoulder before turning to set the table and he finishes plating the food. Breakfast is typically a quick affair on the mornings you spend together, but today the meal stretches long like taffy, the two of you sitting at the table long after the food is gone, just soaking up time together before Jamie needs to leave for training.
That time never arrives, though, and as you send a worried glance towards Jamie after checking the time, you realize he’s smiling at you.
“What did you do now?” You ask, heart fluttering when he laughs in response.
“Nothing!” You shoot him a look, one that sends him laughing again at your seriousness, so he goes on, “I knew you had the day off and I couldn’t bear to think of being away from you, so I told Roy I was sick.”
“He believed that?”
“I gave graphic details,” and then it’s your turn to laugh, so full of love for the wonderful, silly man in front of you.
There aren’t many people who would pretend to get sick just so they could spend more time with you, and while you were sure Jamie was joking about not being able to bear being apart, you know how he feels. Sometimes, when you have to go back to your own apartment to take care of your plants or bring over more clothes, your heart breaks a little bit at the idea of spending time apart. Sometimes, you worry that it’s unhealthy to want to be with someone that often, but then you remember all the weeks you’d spent apart throughout your relationship and realize that you’re perfectly capable of spending time by yourself.
You don’t need Jamie to survive, but spending your days with him makes your life so much better, so much more enjoyable. It’s as if colors are brighter when you’re with him, it’s easier to smile and laugh with him by your side. So while you could spend time apart, and you often do, you’d choose to be with him any day of the week.
“So what are our big plans for today?” You ask as the two of you do the dishes together, even if you spend more time splashing each other than actually doing any work.
“Dunno,” he shrugs, “whatever you want to do. Make dinner together, weed the garden, you could finish that book you’ve been talking about.”
“Sounds perfect,” you tell him, and it really does sound perfect, and your heart swells a little when he remembers how badly you’ve been wanting time to finish your current read, something you’d been attempting to do for weeks but kept getting more and more work added to your plate.
The fact that he remembers is small but meaningful, like so many of the gestures that make up your relationship, like the fact that he’s skipping training to be with you, like the fact that he wanted to make you breakfast in bed, like the fact that he keeps that pebble by his clock where he can see it every single morning.
You don’t have time to dwell on that overwhelming affection, though, because Jamie took the opportunity of your distraction to drench you with water, and you couldn’t be mad at him even if you tried because he just looks so happy, so pleased with himself. Really, you have no choice but to splash him back, not even thinking of all the water that’s getting on the countertops and the floor.
By the time you manage to stop splashing each other and stop laughing, you’re both completely soaked and the two of you head upstairs to change before getting on with your day.
“I was thinking,” Jamie starts as he’s in the middle of pulling a shirt over his head, “that maybe you just move in with me? I mean, you basically live here all the time and it’s not that I don’t like your apartment, it’s great, there’s just more space here and it’s closer to your work, except if you want to keep your apartment because I’m not trying to take away your independence or nothing like that-“
“Jamie,” you need to cut him off, end his nervous ramblings as cute as you think he is because you know once he starts it’s impossible for him to stop, “I’d love to move in with you.”
“Yeah? For sure?”
“For sure,” and Jamie gets a grin so wide it’s impossible not to smile back at him, impossible not to kiss him even through your happy giggles, impossible for the two of you to not end up back on the bed together.
Once you get dressed and stay dressed, it’s already the afternoon and you decide it’s the perfect time for you to finish your book, so you settle yourself on the couch with some snacks and your favorite drink, one that Jamie makes sure is always stocked in the fridge. Jamie settles down next to you, busy with something on his phone as you sit and devour your book.
There’s something so wonderful about simply existing with someone, sitting close but remaining silent and focused on your own tasks. There’s something so special about that, you realize as you finally finish with your book, about how even sitting next to Jamie makes you feel happier, feel more relaxed, feel more comfortable. Just being near him brings you peace, and that’s something you never thought you’d have.
Tags: @giggling-sewer-ginger @shephard17895 @katdahlali @lightninginab0ttle @melimelbean @whimsical-roasting @benedictscanvas
#jamie tartt#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt x you#jamie tartt fanfiction#jamie tartt fic#jamie tartt fluff#ted lasso#ted lasso fanfiction
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PHOTOSHOOT: MARINA FOR THE GUARDIAN
In a stunning photoshoot captured by the talented Ben Quinton for The Guardian, Marina graced the lens with her timeless beauty and unique style. The Welsh-Greek beauty revealed that her inspiration for this particular shoot came from a cherished source close to her heart—photographs of her own mother from the 1970s.
Styling by Melanie Wilkinson with assistance of Hannah Davidson, makeup by Sharon Ive and hair by Benjamin James Moth.
Marina effortlessly channeled the vintage allure of that era as she posed in a pair of dark navy lyocell and viscose dungarees, courtesy of Urban Outfitter's in-house label Cooperative. The choice of attire showcased her knack for blending retro aesthetics with contemporary fashion, a trademark characteristic that has endeared her to fans worldwide.
Beneath the dungarees, M added a touch of playful sophistication to her look. She layered a charming blue & white micro stripe blouse with a frill hem and contrasting red & white striped collar and cuffs, a creation from the renowned fashion house Red Valentino‘s nautical-inspired Spring/Summer 2015 collection.
Quinton's lens captured Marina's spirit in a series of evocative shots, evoking a sense of nostalgia while highlighting her unique personality and the journey she's taken through her music and style. As she gracefully moved through the shoot, Marina's connection to the past and the present was palpable, making this photoshoot a true testament to her enduring creativity and timeless elegance.
Marina added a touch of elegance and intrigue through carefully chosen accessories. Among them, she adorned herself with a clear red resin teardrop pendants necklace from Pebble London, similar to the piece pictured.
Marina completed her striking look with a pair of the Bally Spring/Summer 2015 Wystan light cuoio leather and wood wedge sandals. These elegant and now-sold-out shoes ($805.00) added a touch of sophistication to her ensemble, perfectly complementing her eclectic style.
#March 2015#Urban Outfitters#Cooperative#Jumpsuits#Valentino#Tops#Pebble London#Jewelry#Bally#Sandals
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Hobie Brown/Spider Punk x GN!Reader
Summary: A protest turns to a riot and the riot turns into a massacre. You narrowly escape being murdered by a filthy pig, thanks to the one and only Spider-Punk, oh wait, Spider-MAN of Earth-138.
1.6k Words!
A/N: I don't see a lot of people talking about this side of Hobie's universe, so I thought I'd write something about it
TW: Mentions of blood and death, gunshots, tear gas, policy brutality
____________________________________________________________
"Shit, my bad"
You hear the words slip out of your mouth as you take a step away from who must be the third person you've accidentally bumped into in this crowd. Usually your clumsiness would draw attention from people, a couple scowls, maybe even some harsh language, but right now everyone was too focused on yelling their lungs out, pumping their fists in the air and shoving their decorated posters into the faces of the numerous pigs that were trying to hold off the crowd from entering one of Norman Osborne's many luxurious mansions.
It was another protest, this one specifically against Osborne's bright new idea to pass a law allowing corrupted corporations to decrease the pay rates even more, which would send hundreds of thousands of the already struggling blue-collar workers of London into worsened poverty. Run by punks and many others, this protest was turning from peaceful into something pretty nasty. Slurs, pebbles and even bottles were being thrown from both sides of the front line, just begging for one group to break before the other.
By break of course, you meant turn incredibly violent. Protests like these always did. They were meant to convince Osborne, maybe even force him to turn these laws, these policies, his horrific mindset, but they never did. The most that would happen was a death or two, either of a protestor or a police officer, and the next day, it would be like nothing even happened.
As you make your way through the crowd, trying to get to the front of the lines, you find yourself colliding with the chest of an abnormally tall man. You grabbed your nose, a sharp pain spreading from the tip. "Piece of-" You stop yourself as you look up at him, watching a slightly confused expression spread across his face as he towered over you. "Sorry 'bout that, peng. You a'right?"
"yeah, I'm fine" you grumbled, trying to move past him. "You trying to get the front, lass?" He asked, a slightly amused look on his face as he watched you try to push your way through the dense load of people standing in front you both. "I was" you replied, giving him another look before you successfully squeezed in between the group of people that you'd been trying to infiltrate before. "Be careful. Its not safe up there" you heard him call out to you, his tone sounding a bit patronizing yet comforting at the same time, like he cared at least a little bit about your well-being. You turned to reply, but he'd already disappeared through the crowd, his head and wicks visible over the top of the crowd due to his height.
The yelling had gotten louder and the protestors had begun throwing sticks at the cops near the front who were yelling right back, threatening to use force if necessary. They wouldn't dare on a crowd this large. There was no way.
You had made your way near the front, not caring enough to be gentle at this point and practically shoving past some of the people in order to have a better view at the front. A chant had started and you joined in, determined to make the most of your presence.
"FUCK OSBORNE."
"RIGHTS TO THE PEOPLE"
The chant repeated over and over, getting louder and louder each time as more people joined in, more and more bottles getting thrown over the makeshift fences, the cops getting frustrated, trigger-happy fingers moving closer and closer towards-
BANG BANG
Screams and shouts flooded your senses as your body automatically ducked, your hands flying to cover your head. The yelling intensified, deafening slurs and shrieks sending sharp ringing sounds through your ears as you felt the people around you begin to move, some bursting through the officers' defenses, others scrambling to find safety from the guns and, oh god, the tear gas. A gas meant to be non-lethal was being sprayed directly into the eyes and mouths of those unlucky enough to be in the general vicinity of the officers, the pigs having no mercy towards the helpless protestors stuck in the struggling crowds.
BANG BANG
The gunshots didn't stop, and you felt yourself fall back as someone shoved themselves past you, your elbows being scraped by the rough, cold pavement. You winced. That was gonna leave a nasty scar. You scrambled to your feet, but found yourself met with the head of a pistol, pointed directly between your eyes. "Scum of the earth." You heard a man mutter, his uniform decorated with multiple medals and badges. You felt your body shaking with fear as you slowly got to your feet, the man's hands trembling as his fingers moved toward the trigger. If I die, I die on my feet.
A flash of red and blue passed you, taking the psychotic pig with him, your eyes catching a small glimpse of his mask right before they were both slammed into the wall. The masked man slung his guitar off his back and smashed it against the cop's head, effectively killing him in one hit. The one and only Spider-punk had arrived.
He wildly turned to look at you, the eyes of his mask widening when he saw your bleeding state, but he didn't have time to focus on you. He swung toward the small huddle of police officers that were still terrorizing the crowd, leaving you behind to find safety. But of course, being the stubborn idiot you were, you weren't going to do that.
"Help!"
A young woman was sitting with her back against the wall, her leg all bloody and misshapen, her eyes swollen from the tear gas. She'd been shot, probably more than once from the look of it. But Spider-punk was busy, so you'd have to take care of her. "Hey, its gonna be okay" you said in a soft voice, trying to calm her down and snap her out of her crying state. She babbled, obviously in shock of what had happened, muttering incoherent sentences full of slurred praises for you as you helped her to her feet, letting her lean on your as the two of you limped away. There were cops everywhere, yelling and shooting, the tear gas flooding your eyes and your throat, making it difficult to breathe. But you had to help her. Because if you couldn't, what was the use of being here?
You helped her toward a small group of other protestors that had gathered, trying to help people out, handing her over for them to drive to safety in their cars which had only just arrived in order to get people out of there while Spider-punk did his job.
You turned around to watch as the masked man smashed his guitar against their heads, kicking, punching, throwing. It was a gruesome sight. My hero, you thought to yourself.
You were snapped out of the confinement of your thoughts when you noticed one of the cops approaching you, gun in his hand. Not this again. Thinking quickly, you grabbed a broken part of the fence, a plank of wood and rushed him with it, luckily dodging the bullet he shot at you and hitting him over the head, effectively knocking him out. "Shit" you muttered, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You dropped the plank and removed the gun from the pig's hand, holding it in yours as you continued to where Spider-punk was. Maybe you could help? After all, most of the others were either injured or busy...
You approached him, but he had already finished the job, your eyes settling on his figure using the web to tie the still breathing cops together and sticking them onto the wall. He'd annihilated their backup, but there was no certainty that there weren't more on the way. It was time to leave.
A web shot at you, the gun knocked out of your hand. You defensively raised your hands in the air, eyes widening as you watched him turn to look at you. "Not a cop" you said quickly, taking a step back. "Yea, I can tell" he replied, walking towards you. It was a fairly frightening sight, seeing a 6'3 masked man covered in blood and grime walking toward you, but something about him felt surprisingly friendly. "You a'right?"
"As good as I'll ever be" You lowered your hands slowly, still keeping your eyes on him. He put his hands on his hips, looking you up and down. "Saw you hit that cop over the head back there. Good job."
"Thanks..." his ripped shirt caught your eye. "oh" you left the soft realization escape your lips as you saw his wound. He'd been shot, pretty badly from the looks of it. "Oh this?" he asked, gesturing to his side, blood dirtying his shirt. "Don't worry about it, lovey"
"Y'should probably head home. Don't know when more of those pigs 're gonna show up" he said, his tone darkening slightly as he reached out his hand toward you. Suddenly he faltered, pulling his hand back. "Right, sorry. Can't take you home when there's other people needing my help." he sounded a bit sheepish as he kept his eyes on you, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. "S'alright" You replied, feeling a bit awkward. "I live close by."
"Yeah? Be careful out there, lass. Take care of y'self" he said with a playful salute before walking right past you. "Yeah. I'll see you around, Spider-punk" you said, looking back at him, feeling a bit confused at the interaction. "Oi, don't call me that. s'Spider-MAN not spider-punk." he said cockily, turning back to look at you.
"Right."
#across the spiderverse#atsv#hobie brown#atsv hobie#spiderman atsv#hobie brown headcanons#astv hobie#hobie my beloved#hobie spiderverse#hobie x reader#spiderverse hobie#spider punk#hobart brown#hobie brown x y/n#hobie brown x reader#spiderverse#spiderpunk x y/n#spiderpunk x you#spiderpunk x reader#spiderpunk#spider punk x fem!reader#spider punk x you#spider punk x reader#spider punk x y/n
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hey! first off, just wanted to say i found your blog last night with your 'to dull the shovels and smoke' and i instantly fell in love with your work. you are seriously talented, and it was a joy to read!
then i saw your requests were open and figured i'd drop one in! (:
i feel like our boy gaz needs more love! i saw this tiktok awhile back of tropes that would go well with some of the cod characters, and I really liked the idea of a gaz x reader where they used to be friends as kids, then sort of lost contact as they grow older, but then they meet again in like the military/wherever and they're both obviously smitten for one another and everyone sees it except for them a;sdlkjf
feel free to tweak it as you like. (i'm going through gaz love withdrawals) i know my explanation is a bit jumbled. do whatever comes to mind, and good luck in your studies! <3
YOU’RE GOLDEN SUNSHINE, IT’S SHADOWS WHEN YOU’RE GONE
Pairing: Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x Female Reader
Prompt: In which you meet Kyle Garrick again after years of not seeing each other. In a gravitational pull, you find your long forgotten adoration resurfacing again.
Words: 4.3 K
Warnings: Graphic description of injury, fighting, sleezy men at the pub, inaccuracy about soccer, mutual pinning for YEARS, other than that this is a cute one.
A/n: My tribute to GazFest by @glitterypirateduck please enjoy!
You’d never been one to believe in fate, or anything as foolish as a destiny. But sometimes, you wondered if there was some force or reason for your gravitation towards Kyle Garrick.
He’d been a constant for more than half of your life. He was a warm sun, constantly glowing and gentle. A true friend, someone you could rely on to keep secrets, to council in, to laugh your arse off with.
You’d wished he’d been more before you’d left London.
The first time you ever met him, you were six, in the wonderfully blissful years of your youth. You’d been outdoors, enjoying the rare afternoon sunshine of the weekend. Your parents had corralled you to the park, hoping you’d burn off some of your childish energy in hopes of getting you to sleep through all the night.
They’d sat under a pavilion, immediately conversing with a couple tired parents that supervised their children as well.
You’d had shuffled over to the swing set, fully intending on gliding yourself into the seat and making sure you were the one to go the highest in the air. That was, until you heard a quiet little sniffle from behind you.
Your rounded eyes zeroed in on a boy, a boy with tears glazed in his eyes. He was alone, no friends playing near him. It’d made your youthful mind turn in thought, did he need a friend? Why was he crying?
Reluctantly, you slid off the plastic seat of the swing, making your way hesitantly towards the boy. Fat tears flew down his cheeks like rain, but he used the back of his hand to violently wipe the tears from his cheeks when he saw your shadow encase him.
“Hello!” You announced, not yet accustomed to the sense of conversation etiquette or personal boundaries.
“Hello.” He sounded solemn, but not completely gutted. You took this as a good sign to sit next to him on the pebbled gravel.
“Why are you crying?” You had asked, blinking towards him. His eyes were the color of sweet milk chocolate, pleasantly warm. He’d fiddled with the blue tee loose around his torso, before he reluctantly hiccuped.
“I fell down, my leg hurts.” He pointed to the angry red scratch on his kneecap, dirt and grass sticking to his skin. It wasn’t quite deep enough to draw blood. Still, you remember your Mum explaining something called an infection to you. He needed to wash it.
“It needs a rinse.”
“Why?”
You huffed, standing from the gravel and holding out your hand to your new potential friend. “Because.”
The boy must not have seen it in his best interest to argue with a stubborn six year old, so he used your hand to pull himself up, a frown etching on his lips as the irritated skin stretched when he stood. You’d led him over to the fountain, reaching up on your tip toes to cup cool water into your hands.
“Ready?”
“No… ow!” The boy whined, watching the water fall down to his socks in an unpleasant manner. You did it again, letting the water attempt to soothe away the burning ache.
“Feel better?”
“Um, kinda. What’s your name?” The boy asked, wringing his fingers against his shirt again. You took the time to introduce yourself, a wide smile returning to your face at the sudden prospect of having a new friend, although you’d already seen him hurt and cry.
“What’s yours?” You’d asked, while the two of you made your way back to the swing set again.
“I’m Kyle.”
You’d spent the rest of the day taking turns pushing each other back and forth on the swing set, happily enjoying the company until your parents and his Gran ushered you to go back home. You’d said your goodbyes, placing a sweet kiss on his round cheek.
“Mum always says when you get hurt, a kiss helps.” You supplied, not noticing Kyle holding his palm to his cheek, eyes wide and staring as you’d turned to leave with your parents.
—
“Mum! Have you seen Kyle’s jersey?” You hollered from your room, touching up the last few pieces of your clothing and appearance.
“Should be on the stairway!”
Quickly, you rushed down the steps, taking a quick two at a time to reach the light blue colored jersey draped over the railing. Carefully, pulling the material over your head, you took the time to pinpoint the smell of him. Cedar, Warm Amber, and a hint of something sweetly citrus, like the lemon drop candies he always indulged in.
The boy you’d met in the park had changed drastically, it’d been pure coincidence that you’d shared the same teacher in primary school though now. He’d been the one constant that had stayed through multiple fallen out friendships and disastrous adolescence. That wasn’t to say he hasn’t changed, for one, he’d grown like a weed, now towering over most of his peers.
His once chubby cheeks grew into his body, sharpening along with his jaw and strong nose. His eyes were still as warm and soft on you as they always were. Muscles crawled amongst his arms and legs like wildfire, veins growing more visible. He was absolutely gorgeous, any girl and guy at school would say so. Yet, Kyle managed to stay to himself, fiercely loyal to the little friends he had throughout his childhood.
You’d received many dirty looks for it.
Especially now, as you settled onto the steel bleachers with your two friends. Immediately, jealous eyes settled onto the blue of the jersey you wore, whispers breaking out into the growing crowd. You wanted to scream from the rooftops that Kyle simply didn’t like you like that. You wished he did, but you never noticed any interest. But that wouldn’t stop their stares, as long as he talked to you enthusiastically, walked you home after your volunteer shifts at the hospital, or shared a movie with you on the weekends.
You watched as he jogged over to the net, tightening the gloves on his wrists with a determined look on his features.
The game was running smoothly, your school up two goals and looking less winded than the opponent. Kyle hadn’t let a single ball escape him, his hands and knees stopping the zooming object in ridiculously fast reflexes. You’d shouted your voice hoarse cheering for him, lucky enough to catch his wink as he threw another ball out to his Midfielder.
It was the last minute of the game when a particularly cocky Striker crept up to the goal. He’d been one of the main concerns of your team. The whole game he’d thrown risky kicks and even put his hands on your teammates. You’d seen red when he didn’t get carded.
You were especially irritated when the teen was headed straight towards Kyle, straight towards him. He hardly even had control of the ball, kicking it sloppily next to him before lazily striking it forward. Kyle flew himself in the direction of the ball, eyes only on preventing it from crossing the post.
Suddenly, the striker brought his cleat up, booting the sharp material into the flesh of Kyle’s shoulder, shoe scraping all the way from his chin to clavicle.
The crowd uproared instantly, hisses and boos echoing throughout the whole field. You didn’t make a sound, your eyes only glued to Kyle’s hunched form, the ball tucked to his chest and safe. He stood suddenly, albeit a little shaky. You could see the deep color of blood soaking through his Jersey, but the red patch dulled in comparison to the beaming smile on his lips.
The game was over. He had personally defended and won the game for your school. The crowd cheered so loud you winced, but it all drowned out when he met your eyes, his smile possibly going even wider.
You’d arrived at his house an hour later, a little white kit held in your hands as you knocked on the door. You knew that your best friend was absolutely horrible about taking care of himself, you’ve known since you were the sheer age of six. He’d likely need the first aid kit you gripped.
The door opened with a creak, revealing a beaming Gran Garrick. The sweet old woman had watched Kyle for most of his life, for at a young age, Kyle’s dad had died fighting on enemy lines. You would see the admiration in Kyle’s eyes as he occasionally studied the picture of his dad in uniform on the mantle. In golden shiny text below,
Thomas ‘Gaz’ Garrick.
It was a horrible situation, but you wouldn’t change Gran for the world. She was kind, effortlessly funny, and treated you and Kyle as her own children.
“I’m glad you’re here! Boy hasn’t stopped asking about you since he came home. I had to force him in the shower, mind you.” Gran started off, ushering you inside as she made her way back into her recliner to watch the late night soaps.
“How’s his shoulder?” You asked, hearing shuffling and the cut of running water from above you.
“You know he doesn’t let me look after him like that. Thinks he’s big and strong and all that.” She chortled. You resisted the urge to say yes, yes he is big and strong.
“I trust you’re here to patch him up?”
“Yes, ma’am.” You replied, holding up the first aid kit for her to see. Gran waved you on, going back to her soaps with a pleasant look in her eyes, as if she knew something you didn’t. You ascended the stairs, making your way to the bathroom door with a sigh.
You brought your fist up, knocking.
“One sec!” You heard Kyle call, excitement lacing his voice. You resisted the urge to playfully roll your eyes. He’d likely received a deep shoulder wound, but it didn’t stop his cheerfulness.
Kyle opened the door in a rush, nearly making you fall into him since you rested your shoulders against it. “Woah! Easy there Sunshine!” Kyle joked, straightening you out with a strong forearm. He smelt freshly clean, the scent of Amber, Cedar, and sweetened citrus. You adverted your eyes away from him as quickly as you studied him. Oh, God, he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
Dark sweatpants clung low to his hips, hugging the muscle of his thighs and calves. Your eyes travelled to his injured shoulder, attempting to avoid the toned perfection of his skin.
God, you wished he loved you as much as you loved him.
“Let’s get you patched up, Garrick.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Wanna watch a movie after?” You asked.
“As long as I pick.”
—
He’d been in a horrible mood all evening. This whole week had been absolutely dreadful. To start, it was week of his father’s passing, a time when even his Gran didn’t have a smile on her face. He’d never really adapted to the pain of losing his idol all those years ago.
Second, he’d received his letter of acceptance into the British Army, something that burned a hole in his pocket for over three days.
He’d been ecstatic to tell his Gran, and she had laughed in pride. But a slice of fear encased her too, Gaz could tell by the dull look in her eyes, she didn’t want him to end up like her son. Kyle was even more nervous to tell you.
His heart grew sore just at the thought. You’d been a part of each others lives for nearly two decades. You were his everything, and to be away from you? He felt the creeping dread lay on him like a fog.
He’d always considered himself to be brave. Someone willing to protect the world and dirty his own hands. He’d prided himself in his loyalty and selflessness— It was just who he was. That is until you invade and infect every thought of his. He wished he could just mutter those impossible words— I love you. Yet, his throat locked up on him, refusing to let out any sound. It’s not like it would be enough, no mere three words would amount to how much he cared, how much he loved.
Past, present, and future— he thinks.
He thinks of you and him on the playground, the child-like innocence he wants to protect and cherish. He thinks of your laughter as he chases you around his home, playing an intense game of tag, oh how he fell for you in his childish adoration.
How you’d look with a wedding band on your finger of his own choosing. How he’d bawl tears at how absolutely ethereal you’d look. For you to finally be able to see the tiny sliver of love and affection you deserved.
But the present time? He couldn’t think of anything besides guilt and jealousy.
Now he sat clenching the pint of beer he nursed, his teeth gritting so hard he felt the dull pain in his gums. You’d been speaking to some idiot named Greg, hand waving around ecstatically as you nursed the mixed drink in the other palm.
You’d called on this party, inviting some of your closest friends and Kyle. It was a surprise to him when so many people showed up, flooding the bar and moving to you. He couldn’t blame them for trying to get close, you were ridiculously beautiful and effortlessly kind. Smart and loyal, Compassionate and Joyful.
Greg had been scooting closer to you all night. The once meter of space between you had disappeared. You’d definitely noticed, judging by the way you’d moved subtly in the opposite direction, shifting closer to him instead. Kyle felt a bubble of satisfaction flutter inside his chest, knowing you’d been more comfortable around him than the idiot.
“So, what are you doing later?” Greg asked over the music, not caring or noticing that you seemed uncomfortable.
“Heading to Kyle’s flat, we have movie night on Saturdays.” You answered, shoulders tensed. Kyle could tell that you hated every minute of this. You were a people pleaser and hated confrontation, so it was no surprise that you continued to entertain him. He just wished the man would get the hint already.
“We can watch a movie at my place.” Greg suggested, making Kyle visibly seethe. Greg’s eyes flickered to him, a nasty and smug look covering his features when you weren’t looking.
“I don’t think so mate.” Kyle spoke for you, reducing his slouching and nearly hovering over you as he glared at Greg. “Why not? This your bitch or something?”
In his twenty one years of life, Kyle Garrick never thought he’d seen more red. How dare this ignorant slime of a human being call you such a vile name?
“The fuck you just say?”
“Oh lay off it, I’ll give her back after I fuck her, I’d keep her but no one wants damaged goods.”
Glass shattered as it collided with the flesh of Greg’s face. Beer pooling sticky on his shirt as Kyle ruthlessly beat his fist into his jaw, his eyes, his nose. Anything he could reach, he punched. You’d shrunk back, basically cowering as he had flung himself over you.
His ears rang, flooded by the pure rage that radiated through his entire being. The ambience of the bar and laughter long gone, the only thing he heard was the satisfying crunch of Greg’s nose, along with the weak gurgles that escaped him.
“Kyle!” You’d screamed, allowing him to snap back to the present. Tears streamed down your face, fat and heavy. All at once, he’d felt the pit in his stomach, he wondered if the tears streaming down your face was the cause of him or Greg. Without saying a word, Kyle dropped Greg’s shirt collar, clenching his bloodied knuckles as he rushed out the door, No longer in the mood for any company.
The pub wasn’t far from his flat, he could make it there with little trouble. The weight of his acceptance letter weighed even heavier in his pocket. Especially knowing he’d be leaving in the next two days. To leave on bad terms with you would destroy him.
“Wait!”
“Kyle, please stop!”
He’d slowed, turning his head to watch you follow after him, cheeks puffy and eyes irritated from crying. God, this was all his fault.
He said nothing as you latched to his arm, feeling the dents of your soft fingertips through his windbreaker, the heat of your skin slightly calming him from thinking about what he had done. He’d single-handedly ruined your party, causing a scene in front of so many people. And here you were with him, instead of enjoying yourself.
“I’m so sorry, Sunshine, ruined your whole night.” Kyle spit out, hanging his head and attempting to hide his face under the ball cap he wore. Blood splattered against the cement of the sidewalk, dripping from his knuckles like a ticking clock.
Shocking waves of surprise rippled through him as he heard your gentle laugh. Head glanced down at you, your lips pulled up and head shaking in indifference.
“Ruined my night? I just wanted it to be us and my two friends. It was awful being around that guy, I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t there to save me.”
Instant relief fell off him in waves, his shoulders relaxing slightly as the two of you continued to walk to his flat. “He deserved more than what I gave him.” Kyle growled, not noticing the pure look of adoration cross your eyes.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you. Now, let’s go home, I need to patch you up again.” You teased, leading the way a little faster to his home.
You’d pushed him into the bathroom the second he’d unlocked the door, ushering him to sit on the hard marble of the bathtub. He did so willingly, now that his adrenaline was gone, waves of pain flew and radiated down his busted knuckles.
You’d leant over to pull the faded first aid kit from beneath his sink, long since needing to be replaced from how many times you needed to use it. You’d settled yourself between Kyle’s legs, the warmth of his thighs radiating as you held onto his wrist.
“I didn’t need you hurting yourself over me.” You whispered, taking clean tweezers and removing the small pieces of glass from his skin.
“That’s what you’re worried about, Sunshine?”
You huffed, attempting to slow your rapid heartbeat. You’d grown accustomed to the constant palpitations that always came when you were around him.
“Well yes. I won’t always be around to fix you up.”
A bittersweet feeling clung off the air, violating your lungs as your own jacket pocket burned with the slip of paper in it. A letter of acceptance into the Medical Graduate program at Yale. You’d graduated top of your class for undergrad, and had an amazing opportunity to continue in America to become a doctor.
Kyle had titled his head, a frown peaking from his lips as you finished wrapping a bandage along his knuckles, placing a kiss upon his cheek as you always did when you finished.
“What do you mean you won’t always be here?” He asked, unconsciously placing his hands around the swell of your hips, holding you to him like an anchor.
With a sigh, you fished into your pocket, pulling out the acceptance letter that held onto your bittersweet future in a vice. It was an amazing opportunity, and having the title, Doctor, before your name would be incredible. Kyle took the paper carefully, scanning over the words as his lips tilted up and eyes watered.
“I’ll be damned, always knew you were way too smart for your own good. Congratulations, Sunshine.” He managed, handing the paper back to you in a sorrow that made your heart hurt. You still stood in between in legs, never wanting to move from the spot.
“I’ll still visit on holidays and breaks,” you reassured, a watery grin finding its way onto your lips. You hated the fact that you’d leave him.
Kyle shook his head, his own hand slipping to grab that damned letter.
“I don’t think so, Sunshine.”
You’d read his own letter, a proud and sorrowful smile mimicking what he just experienced. He’d watched as your face turned from worried to completely gutted, a lone tear rolling down your face. He’d reached up, trapping the drop of liquid and wiping it away. “Don’t cry, Love, I’m sure we’ll think of something.” He pleaded, but it didn’t stop his heart from shattering.
This must be the end.
For now, he just wanted to hold you.
—
Twelve years later
“Hold pressure here, I’ll be back to reassess in twenty minutes.” You advised, wiping your hands on the white coat you’d earned over the years.
Your hands twisted under your gloves, pulling them off with a snap as you went to the next patient on your list. Spreading disinfectant on your hands, you flipped open a clipped folder all about your next victim.
MacTavish, John.
Patient forcibly admitted under the orders of his lieutenant after a laceration to his bicep from loose debris from C4.
You huffed, always used to soldiers hurting themselves. In a way, it reminded you of Kyle, how you spent more time with him with a needle in your hands than without.
You padded down the hallway, settling in front of the door the sergeant was admitted to. You knocked softly, hearing a muffled, “come in.”
“Sergeant MacTavish?” You verified, eyes filtering to a tall Scottish man with a particularly interesting haircut. He was pretty, in a way that suggested he knew it. Not that it was exactly professional for you to think so.
“Aye, that’s me.” He confirmed, a small smirk on his lips as you approached.
“Heard you took a bit of a tumble.” You stated, eyes twinkling in a gentle amusement. He’d mimicked the gesture, bringing his hand up to reveal his wound. “Ye’ could say that. Usually I’m the one blowin’ people up, not the other way ‘round.”
The wound could have looked better. The angry flush of first degree burning skin immediately grabbed your attention, among with the rather deep center. He would need stitches, and likely an antibiotic to prevent infection.
“Hope you’re not scared of needles.” You joked slightly, pulling on a pair of spare gloves while you fished in your supplies.
“Naw’, much scarier things out there, ya know.”
A small smile tugged at your lips, you liked this patient of yours. Many of them were pissed when they came in, or others bluntly hit on you. At times you joked with your coworkers about buying a wedding ring.
You set to work on his arm, disinfecting the area and numbing it.
“So how’d it happen?” You asked to pass time, although you were relatively quick with your stitches. You’d done this since you were twelve after all.
“Ghost and I were headed to exfil, we were held up by the cartel. Passed through a building but it was wired. I noticed it a second too late. Luckily Ghost got me outta there, while Gaz and Price covered us.” John explained, not noticing your halting needle and surprised face at the word of his other sergeant’s callsign.
“You said Gaz?” You asked, hardly containing your curiosity and eager questioning.
“Yes?” John answered back hesitantly. “Is he here?” You interrogated as you finished the last knot. It couldn’t be a coincidence that this soldier had the same callsign as Kyle’s dad, right?
“He’s meeting me here so we can go to the mess hall.” John spoke, confusion lacing his voice and eyebrows pinching together. Yet, he didn’t have time to ask any questions, for booted feet glided down the hall, thudding nearly as loud as your beating heart.
You decided then and there, if it was him, you’d put decades of friendship aside, just to tell him even a slice of how you feel. Of how much you loved him.
Then he was there. In front of you again.
He was there and even more handsome than when you left for Grad School. His warm caramel colored eyes darted from MacTavish to you, nearly widening out of his socket as he did a double take.
“Sunshine?” He murmured, looking as if he’d pinch himself out of this illusion. You’d managed to slap off your gloves, before very unprofessionally sprinting in his direction.
He’d just barely settled his feet before you jumped in his arms, his biceps curling around you and picking you up effortlessly. You’d clung to him there, legs wrapped around his waist as you inhaled the smell of him again. Cedar and citrus.
Kyle Garrick.
“Naw! Naw way, ya never said the woman ya fancied was a doctor!” Soap blurted, standing suddenly as he narrowed in on the moment. Your smile grew wide at the words the Scotsman announced. Maybe this was all a dream? Kyle fancied you? The man hid his glare, but Soap took enough of a hint to thank you and leave. Reluctantly you stepped back, still embarrassingly close to him.
“What are you doing here?” Gaz could hardly contain his excitement, the boyish feelings he buried now coming back in full speed like a missile.
“I work here on base. I moved back to London last month, picked a job where I knew I could help.” You explained, cheeks burning from smiling so much.
“I reckon we’ll see a lot of each other then.” Gaz brought you into another hug, arms wrapping so tightly you could hardly breathe. Damn, he’d gotten stronger and more fit. And you didn’t think it possible.
“So was MacTavish right? You fancy me?” You asked, no longer fearing. It’d been long enough, twelve years of not seeing each other, even longer adoring him.
“‘Course. I’ve loved you since I was six and you kissed my cheek on the playground.” Gaz laughed. It seemed he didn’t care to lose more time either. Twelve years was too long without you, the sneaked Polaroid of you in his pocket was the only thing that kept him sane.
“We have a lot to catch up on, huh?” You teased, no longer feeling the crippling aspect of fear and rejection.
You’d squeaked when he kissed your lips in yearning, savoring the taste of a man you’d loved all your life, with nothing more satisfying than being able to admit it. To show him, just how much you cared. Just how much you yearned for his addicting touch and hypnotic kisses. You sighed heavenly as he pulled away.
“How about a movie date Friday?” He asked, reminiscing on old times.
“You know I could never say no.” You answered, looking forward to the future.
—
Tags: @glitterypirateduck @pukbadger @ysljoon @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @mykneeshurt
#gazfest#cod#call of duty modern warfare#modern warfare#call of duty#kyle garrick#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick x reader#Kyle garrick x reader
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Jenson Button (Brawn era) - Snowballs
Day 22 of Christmas
Jenson and Y/n strolled hand in hand through an enchanting park of London, covered from the littlest pebble to the biggest tree with festive lights. The air was crisp, and the atmosphere was filled with the spirit of Christmas. Their laughter echoed from the park and up into the sky, filling the heavens.
Amid the cheerful jokes and loving stares, Jenson smiled at Y/n, his eyes filled with warmth. "Isn't London magical during Christmas?" he remarked, squeezing her hand gently.
Y/n nodded, a grin on her face. "Absolutely. But you know what would make it even more magical?" she teased. "What's that?" Jenson asked, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. Y/n playfully tilted her head. "A snowball fight!" Without waiting for a response, she scooped up a handful of snow and tossed it at Jenson, initiating a playful battle.
Their laughter resonated through the winter air as the snowball fight escalated. Jenson retaliated with good-natured competitiveness, and soon enough, the quaint London street transformed into a winter battlefield. Amid the flurry of snow, Y/n giggled, ducking behind a snow-covered bench for cover. "You're not getting away that easily!" She called out, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Jenson grinned, a snowball in hand. "We'll see about that!" He shouted and began pegging them at her again. As the playful skirmish continued, their connection deepened. Between laughter and snowball throws, they shared intimate moments, stealing glances that spoke volumes. As the snowy chaos thickened, Jenson gently caught Y/n off guard, pulling her into a tender kiss that melted the winter chill.
Breathless, Y/n grinned against his lips. "You're distracting me," she teased. Jenson chuckled, his eyes locked with hers. "Guilty as charged." He said, smashing a snowball atop of her wooly hat that sat on her head. "Jenson Alexander Lyons Button!" She gasped. "Shush! People are gonna hear you saying that!"
The snowball fight persisted, both reveling in the joy of the moment. Yet, as the snow-covered ground bore witness to their playful antics, Y/n eventually conceded defeat, sinking into the snow with a dramatic sigh. "I surrender," she declared, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Jenson joined her on the snowy ground, a victorious smile playing on his lips. "Admitting defeat already?" he teased.
Y/n laughed, brushing snowflakes off her hair. "Only because you're too good at this. But I wouldn't have it any other way." He smiled and pecked her lips yet again. They sat together, breath visible in the chilly air, savoring the magic of the snowy London evening. Amid the twinkling lights and shared warmth, Jenson and Y/n's Christmas walkbecame a cherished memory, etched in the snowy canvas of their love story.
#jenson button x reader#jenson button x you#jenson button imagine#jenson button oneshots#jenson button#f1 blurb#f1 imagine#f1 oneshot#jenson button blurb#f1 x reader#f1 oneshots#f1 fic
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Lovejoy at the O2 Forum
Lovejoy is in this article!
A muggy Wednesday evening gave way to a packed house at Kentish Town’s O2 Forum, where indie rock band Lovejoy took to the stage to delight their fans with an epic setlist on the London stop of their highly anticipated Wake Up & It’s Over tour.
Amid dazzling flashing neon, and a semi-circle screen showcasing groovy graphics, frontman Wilbur Soot, the internet-famous Twitch streamer and YouTuber, truly gave a show-stopping performance to a room of jubilant fans. With the release of their latest EP Wake Up & it’s Over in May of this year, the English group showcased new and old hits to their eccentric crowd.
Opening with Consequences from their latest release ignited the energy for the rest of the set, with each and every fan within the Forum knowing every single word to every song performed. The unbelievably uplifting spirit from the audience truly made every part of the gig an opportunity to dance and scream at the top of your lungs.
The vibey guitar riffs from lead guitarist Joe Goldsmith, accompanied by Ash Kabosu on the bass and Mark Boardman on drums, really amplified the night’s tunes. Some of the most notable songs performed were those from 2021 releases Are You Alright and Pebble Brain. Hits such as Perfume, Taunt and It’s Golden Hour Somewhere, were echoed by the sounds of hundreds of people belting out the lyrics into the venue’s atmosphere.
For a group that has built their fan base entirely online, the artist/fan relationship is extremely strong between Lovejoy and their listeners. The scenes at the Forum were straight out of a One Direction or Beatlemania documentary, barely being able to hear the band over the sound of all those present singing along.
Lovejoy ended their exciting set with an electric encore. consisting of One Day, Concrete and Portrait of a Blank Slate. Though the crowd were sad to part from Lovejoy, they surely won’t be forgetting Wednesday night’s gig, its beautiful visuals and incredible rock and roll atmosphere.
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