#Camden accent

[gaasublarb]

Hobie's Accent Challenge/Practice

I tried to find a sentence with every english phoneme and this came up.

That quick beige fox jumped in the air over each thin dog. Look out, I shout, for he's foiled you again, creating chaos.

So here goes /)////(\ Wish I knew more IPA

Me:

ðat quick bæj fahx jəmpt in ðə ær ohver ɪch thin dahg. Look owt, aɪ showt, for hɪs fohɪld you əgin, crɪæding kæahss

Hobie:

Tha' quick bæj fox jəmpt en ðə eh ohvə ɪch thin dog. Look ow', ah show', foh 'ɪs foɪld yə əgen, crɪæ'en kayohss

[flustersluts]

all this talk about sitting on your lap who's lap are YOU sitting on (my lap is free) (pleading eyes that are so full of autism)

HHAHA IM JUST PICTURING AUTISM CREATURE RN my little child,,.,,, ofc i can sit on ur lap:)))) but just like 🐝 u will have to hold the weight of everyone who has to sit on MY lap so it might get crowded!! u can do it tho i believe in u

[adoordelano]

I truly believe that no drag race episode will be better than The Daytona Winds ever

[rosenallies]

The classic meme of "the cat ears stay on during sex"

Jasmine being extra clingy and generally acting like a cat in heat that needs to be taken care of.

camden making her stay quiet, only allowed to whimper a little bit bc good little kitties don’t talk back 🥰 camden fucking her with a strap while she’s on all fours and all she hears is her little whines and the jingling of the collar

[jadeannbyrne]

Presenting the Dior Fall 2024 Women's Collection

In English Chères lectrices et chers lecteurs, Je suis ravie de partager une nouvelle passionnante—j’ai reçu une invitation de dernière minute pour la présentation de la collection femme automne 2024 de DIOR, qui sera dévoilée en ligne le lundi 15 avril 2024 à 20 heures, heure de New York, sur Dior.com. En tant que la fille “redneck” de DIOR et ambassadrice de la couleur, la coiffure, et la…

[apocalypse-shuffle]

HOBIE BROWN | SPIDER-PUNK (atsv)

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“Brand New Metal” (Hobie Brown & Fem!Reader)

| Hobie helps you pierce your nose.

| SFW, piercing description, needles

| Featuring almost the entirety of my own piercing experience. (Pic source: Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023) movie)

You pull away for what feels like the hundredth time in five minutes and Hobie’s hand moves outta the way even faster, barely a blur of movement before it’s back within his bubble of space.

“C’mon, Mama, I can’t do this if you keep jumpin’ away from me.”

You shift in place where your butt is planted beside the hard water stained sink. Shoulders dropping you rub your hands down your face.

“I know that,” you grumble.

Problem was, knowing barely qualified as a quarter of the issue, and whoever said knowing was half the battle clearly hadn’t been staring down the point of the thickest needle you’d ever seen in person.

You wave your hand to the metal rod with a grimace. “But look at the size of that thing, Hobes. That’s gotta be overkill.”

Hobie’s accent seems to get thicker as he hits you with a deadpan tone, full brows shading his eyes.

“This’s a twenty gauge needle. I’ve seen you ’old your guts inside you and still make time to bash in some fascists, this’s nothin’.”

In response you flip him off but Hobie - perfectly unfazed - only starts twirling the needle around two latex glad fingers.

His own piercings - of which there were plenty - glint off of the dim yellow lighting of his bathroom like a taunt. Or at least it feels like that to you.

“Look, I already told you piercings ain’t some crucial part of the scene, Mama. You don’t have ta do any of this. It’s all just boxes and labels, the lot of it,” Hobie points the blunt side of the needle at you. “And you know I hate labels.”

“Yeah, Hobes, the whole of Camden knows. Besides, I want it cause I think it looks nice not cause of capitalism’s agenda to make us buy shit instead of looking at whatever human right of the day they’re doing away with,” you shrug and Hobie’s mouth twists to the side for a second before he’s shrugging too.

“Great. Point’s been made then. Pick a struggle.”

“Fuck your struggle,” you frown. “It’ll hurt.”

“Hn,” he scoffs and shakes his head. He’s giving you this narrow look like he’d let you keep this back and forth up for the rest of the day without any complaints though. “Fake ones exist for a reason.”

“Fake ones won’t give me the satisfaction of a real piercing though.”

“The lie that we need to feel pain in order to be worthy of livin’ is also capitalistic propaganda, Luv.”

Now it’s your turn to give him a look; face dropping and one brow rising.

Hobie chuckles.

“Fine.” He grins, sharp. “We both know I know exactly what it is you’re sayin’. I just can’t tell if being an accomplice to yer masochism is fair to me.”

“You wouldn’t deny a woman her creative outlet, would you?”

“S’pose not,” Hobie agrees, taking another alcohol swab and disinfecting the needle again for extra measure.

He eyes you up and down and you smile, fluttering your lashes at him and kicking your heels into his cabinet doors. You needed Hobie to be the one to do this. For one, because you were not going to be able to do this yourself, and for two, because he was really the only person you trusted to puncture a literal hole in your body.

You take a deep breath, now if only you could chill the hell out.

Hobie shakes his head, wicks flopping around and knocking into each other languidly.

“Yer one ‘elluva reluctant participant to this for someone agreein’ they’re a masochist,” he nods to the needle while brandishing it like a knife. He knows you're full of shit, but he’s not about to make your decision for you. “You gotta stop flinching every time light just glints off the needle if you really want this.”

You lock eyes with him, sitting up to your full height and trying not to back away from the metal rod. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the adrenaline rush to kick in.”

“Pretty sure that happens after the pain, yeh?

A huff and your fingers curl over the edge of the counter and squeeze.

“Just…get it over with, Hobie.” You take a deep breath. “Please?”

“Alright alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Hobie eases a hand around your jaw and raises the needle. “You know I’ve got you. Now keep still.”

Another deep breath from you and Hobie meets your eye for a second time.

“On three,” he grunts. With your head in his grasp you can’t physically nod so you use your eyes to convey your agreement.

Hobie takes a breath to start the countdown and you inhale with him. You’ve gotten your ears pierced before, you could do this. It was fine. Plus you’ll have a few seconds to prep yourself before he gets to number three. You got this. You both exhale.

“Three,” he states.

Without a second to spare the needle pierces through the squishy cartilage of your nose and your breath catches in your throat. Instantly tears well in your eyes and your face heats up something fierce - like somebody’s holding a blow dryer on the highest setting up to it with zero mercy. Your joints pop, grasp on the counter growing tighter in your attempt to keep yourself from jerking out of Hobie’s hold. The sheer need to not garner an actual injury from the metal is almost solely what keeps you in place.

This wasn’t like an ear piercing at fucking all. Fuck this septum piercing and fuck Hobie too. What the fuck?

“Ow! You motherfucker!”

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! I only wrote his accent clearly some of the time; you’ll have to forgive me. I was confusing my damn self, okay? I did my best.

Also what I said about how adrenaline works isn’t really correct so don’t take that as gospel.

Edit: Had this labeled gn!reader on accident at first y’all, that’s my bad. Sorry for any confusion.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

[firstofficerkittycat]

obsessed w neil patrick harris as a choice for the toymaker now like i was a bit put off at first but their dynamic is so insane. like he is standing there speaking in the worst fake german accent while throwing juggling balls at them like disneys villains revenge and david is playing it so serious like fully voice shaking eyes welling up in horror while this theatre kid bitch is getting ready to make everyone in camden lock perform hamilton against their will this is so fucking it

[insuke69]

"G'Morning, luv."

Mornings with Hobie headcannons <3

DISCLAMERRR: Contains cussing, shitty accent (this man is COCKNEY), some sexual stuff mentioned in scenarios, some fluff, like bittersweet chocolate or something idk. 

Female reader in mind but I don’t think I’ve put in anything to make it gender specific.

So this is pretty much how any morning would be like if you were with (dating) this punk and you spend nights with him, and spend mornings as well.

______________________________________________________________

He’s either a heavy ass sleeper or an extremely light one, I heavily doubt that this fucker sleeps like a baby since he literally used to be homeless in the streets of Camden, Hes only been able to actually get rest in your arms when you two fall asleep cuddling.

Cuddling: This man loves to be the big spoon just as much as he wants to be a little spoon, he wants you to feel safe and protected in his arms as he does in yours. If you two are sleeping in the same house–room–bed- he is always going to end up pressed against you with an arm draped over you.

-if you guys argue and you try giving him the silent treatment by rejecting his usual limb embrace, that is equivalent to a knife in the heart to Hobie and he’ll deadass do what he can. He needs his cuddles :(( 

THE MORNINGS THOUGH? SCENARIOS: (272 words)

You and Hobie had an argument the night before, you hardly remember what it was about but at this point it was to be petty, that's what the relationship was full of: Banter. But.. something is different. You don’t have the feeling of your partner's lanky arm over you. He usually holds you as if you were his only source of warmth throughout the nights, but you didn’t even feel the bed lowered by his resting body beside you either. Since you were turned away from him since last you two spoke–something got a bit heated, turning to look at Hobies part of the shared bed, he wasn’t lying there.. But before your mind starts working against you and overthinks like usual, the bedroom door swings open and you’re greeted by your shirtless significant other as he holds a tray. “Oh- Mornin’ lovie, I was making breakfast-” He began as he glanced at the apology breakfast–this man never apologized with his words.

“For me?” You interrupt with a grin as you sit up, putting your weight on your hands as you steady yourself and look over at the tall man who rolls his eyes at you. “No, for me. I was planning on ea’ing this in front of you.” He reciprocates sarcastically as he places the tray on your lap, the breakfast being two sunny side up eggs with toast and a cup of coffee, “Eat.” He tells you before turning on his heel and immediately walking out before you can even try and quip or decline. He knew full well you weren’t that much of a morning person compared to him.

Can I also mention that if y’all didn’t have an argument before, Hobie is obsessed with morning kisses; If you have work/college in the mornings, you aren’t leaving the house before he’s had his tongue in your mouth. He’s very clingy in the morning since he’s so happy to be there with you at all :(

-You've been late so many times because of the kisses–escalating into making out in the kitchen–to him blowing your back out before you walk out the door.

2ND SCENARIO: (562 words)

You huff as you glance at your phone screen to see the time, a bit behind schedule already since your alarm didn’t go off. Thank god you already woke up early anyways, the alarm just is to be sure you’re earlier. Hobie awakes to you in the bathroom, the shower running makes him know you’re getting ready, and reminds him of the last time he’s even been able to feel your body against his.. Even though that was literally last night.

He gets himself off of the bed and throws on some sweats and an old ripped up tee he’s always refused to toss out since it ‘looks more punk and cooler’ like that. He goes on with his own unorganized morning routine of wandering his houseboat and lazily making a quick breakfast of an omelet, when he was about done with making his own serving he began to hear the soft pattering of your feet on the wooden floor and you walk into the kitchen in your outfit for the day–hair slightly damp from the shower and smelling fresh and clean. 

“Morning.” You say to him as you grab the milk from the fridge and cereal out of the cabinet in almost one swift movement, trying to not take too long on greetings since you were trying to be on time- or at least not late.

But Hobie had other plans: He didn’t like that one worded greeting or how you barely averted your attention to him at all, but Hobie already has a plan anyways. 

He hums in acknowledgement as he cleans the dishes he used to make his food, glances over at you as you reach up the dish cabinet for a bowl, he dries his hands on his shirt and turns off the faucet. Slithering his hands around your waist and nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Hobie- c’mon, I don’t really have much time for this.” You didn’t have any time–but you loved how his arms wrapped around you in that embrace from the back.

Hobie remains quiet besides another lazy hum of acknowledgement as his hands glide over your shape and body and find themselves under your shirt, his warm hands caressing your stomach and sides and your breath hitching at the touch that’s nearly Electric. Then his hands slowly lowering to the growing warm pressure down between your legs by slowly tucking one of his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, and his head in the crook of your neck and leaving kisses, stingy pecks with slight tongue.

“Hobie..” You murmur almost breathlessly as you tilt your head to allow him more access to your neck. He knew how to get you all hot and bothered.

You turn to try and get a kiss to his lips and to receive some kind of relief in your body, with your lips clashing to his and him fully reciprocating as your tongues begin dancing with the others and him holding you close from your hip and waist.

“You don’ seem to mind being late now, do ya, love?” He smirks into the kiss as he softly lifts you to set you onto the counter and standing between your knees and one of his hands sliding onto your thigh, thumb grazing the inner part of it and the main part of his hand holding your thigh open.

------

i wanna mention that I'm not dead- just dk what to post, but my asks are always open for any requests <33

[vhstown]

okay okay bit random but as a british person (yes im admitting to this) who lives around people who speak like hobie brown

PLEASE STOP WRITING HOBIE'S ACCENT LIKE HE'S HARRY STYLES 😭😭😭😭

(pls read below the cut)

you do not need to add an apostrophe every 2 sounds and make his speech unreadable we know he has an accent....

use it in moderation . a few sounds omitted are fine but please. you do not need to be doing 4D chess trying to portray every little quirk of his speech

a lot of the times if you over-do the accent it doesn't even sound right when you read it out? (to me it reads like an american or northern accent usually)

trust me we know how he sounds

OKAY OKAY bit of cultural trivia if you want to use slang you're probably gonna be looking at jamaican patois slang (EDIT: MLE or multi-cultural london english is the more appropriate term for his dialect! pls check the reblogs for a better explanation of it by somebody else)

in ATSV the only thing i can remember him saying is "mandem" and he tends to use other phrases like "man" and "my guy" to refer to others he's close with

not every piece of jamaican patois slang is commonly used in MLE

MLE is predominantly found in areas like south london or camden (where hobie is from)

hobie also seems to dial down his accent when speaking to people who aren't from his universe (my reasoning anyway)

his accent is actually very subtle compared to what i've seen irl

hobie is very witty and tends to speaks fast with a lot of filler words like "yeah?" and "alright?" and you wanna focus on things like word order and structure (for example the word "I" tends to be missing a lot so "i went to the cinema" would just be "went to the cinema" etc etc)

im not the best at writing hobie either and i wish he got more screentime but focus on capturing his personality rather than his accent pls

he's a teenager from a deprived area NOT A WHITE BRITISH HEARTHROB PLEASE STOP WRI'IN 'IM LI' 'ARRY BLOODY STOILES

sincerely a brit who really loves hobie but not so much the attempts at his accent

will reblog or edit with any other thoughts i have about this id appreciate any other british people's input too

PLEASE check out the reblogs on this !!!!

[ghostlyloversworld]

»»————> 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲<————««

𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐁𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡 𝐱 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙭'𝙨 𝙙𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜-

-𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠- 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐭

We can go drivin' in, on my scooter Uh, you know, just riding in London Alright.

As she scrolls through her Instagram feed one thing stands out it was a news article she reads it -actress y/n Cox spotted in London with Actor Tom blyth.

She laughs before pressing on the news article. Curious to see what it had to say.

I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal And you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee whiskey But something happened, I heard him laughing I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent They say home is where the heart is But that's not where mine lives.

She reads it. Actor Tom blyth and Actress Y/n Cox had been spotted at Trafalgar square. It had been reported both were holding hands and being a little more then friendly with each other. Could this be the next it couple?.. Only time will tell. She clicks off and goes to the comments of the news article

You know I love a London boy I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon He likes my American smile Like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates So I guess all the rumors are true You know I love a London boy Boy, I fancy you (ooh).

Catlover- even if they are dating we should give them their privacy.

Tombylyth'sgirl- stopp because Tom and Y/n's song have to be Dreaming of you by Selena quintanilla

↪️y/n'schild- stop because Selena quintanilla didn't deserve to die.

honeylove- honesty y/n isn't even cute

↪️ theonlyY/ncox- cool I'm definitely not going cry in the bathtub 😐

↪️ starsthebest- the sarcasm is loudd.

↪️ theonlyY/ncox- thanks I got it from you're dad 👍

And now I love high tea, stories from uni, and the West End You can find me in the pub, we are watching rugby with his school friends Show me a gray sky, a rainy cab ride Babe, don't threaten me with a good time They say home is where the heart is But God, I love the English.

Tomblyth- shh 🤫 no one needs to know

↪️ doglover- what do you mean Tom?

↪️ theonlyY/ncox- Tom no 😐

↪️ Tom blyth- yes Tom

Eleanor laughs at the way her and Tom go back and forth on the internet. Maybe that's why everyone thinks they are together. She finally posted again

-TheonlyY/ncox

- Happy birthday my bbg @RachaelZegleristhebest

RachaelZegleristhebest- thank you love :)

↪️- theonlyY/ncox- you're welcome

You know I love a London boy I enjoy nights in Brixton, Shoreditch in the afternoon He likes my American smile Like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates So I guess all the rumors are true You know I love a London boy Boy, I fancy you.

So please show me Hackney Doesn't have to be Louis V up on Bond Street Just wanna be with you Wanna be with you Stick with me, I'm your queen Like a Tennessee Stella McCartney on the Heath Just wanna be with you (wanna be with you) Wanna be with you (oh)

Y/n was laying in her bed. She looks down at her necklace 'Tb' it had been Tom's initials. Her and Tom had been together for 3 years now. She was very happy with Tom. The more she thinks about it. Tomorrow was their 4 year of dating

theonlyY/ncox

- love a British boy @Tombylth

User98- oh my goodness! They were dating

↪️theonlyY/ncox- yeah ik that

↪️doglover- her freaking sarcastic is always back out to get everyone

Tombylth- love you more

↪️theonlyY/ncox- nah I love you more :)

So please show me Hackney Doesn't have to be Louis V up on Bond Street Just wanna be with you I, I, I fancy you, oh Stick with me, I'm your queen Like a Tennessee Stella McCartney on the Heath Just wanna be with you (ooh) Wanna be with you I fancy you (yeah), fancy you Oh, ah

[vettelinyourarea]

hi, could you make one with ollie bearman with london boy by taylor swift, please? she's so whipped by her british boyfriend especially his smile and his thick british accent that always drive her crazy and so is he. thank you!

london boy - oliver bearman

genre: fluff

word count: 927

inspired by london boy by taylor swift

warning: english is not my first language

thank you soo much for the request! to be honest i have been thinking about writing london boy for ollie too! also, i'm not from england so all of the information i got for this fict is from google.

feel free to give me any feedback and hope you enjoy! my requests are open 🫶

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I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal

And you know I love Springsteens, faded blue jeans, Tennesse whiskey

But something happened, I heard him laughing

I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent

You met Ollie for the first time when you just transferred to the Imperial College London. You remember it was on a sunny Thursday, and you and your new friends were doing your assignment for a class together. It was going smoothly for you until you heard a laugh that sounds like music to your ear. That’s when you saw him, a tall guy with a sweet smile and dimples, getting shushed by his friend that’s sitting next to him. 

“Is he from our uni?” you asked your friends, pretending to be annoyed when in reality you really want to know if you will have a chance on seeing him again in the near future.

“Oliver? The tall guy with curly hair? No, he is a racing driver in Formula 2. But he is always here when it’s off-season, a lot of his friends went here. I could introduce you to him if you want?”

You know I love a London boy

I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon

He likes my American smile

Like a child when our eyes meet, darling I fancy you

“Stop calling me a London boy! I’m not even from London. I’m from Chelmsford!” Ollie said while laughing, and oh, how much you love that laugh. The laugh that caught your attention that first time, a sound that could instantly bring a smile to your face.

You are strolling around the infamous Camden Market with the boy you have been dating for 3 months now. It hasn’t been long since you first met, but God knows how smitten you are with him. Every time you are together with him, it’s like you became a child that has a crush all over again. His smile, his laugh, his thick British accent, his giggle, everything about him is perfect to you.

“I don’t care! You will always be my London boy, okay.” You said with a smile that Ollie loves so much. A smile that he wants to see for the rest of his life if it’s possible.

“Is that supposed to be a Taylor Swift reference?”

Show me a gray sky, a rainy cab ride

Babe, don’t threaten me with a good time

They say home is where the heart is

But God, I love the English

It was raining heavily, which means your plan to go on a picnic with Ollie has to be canceled unwillingly. It’s been 7 months now since you first date him, and it has been the best seven months for both of you. Sure, there are arguments here and there, it’s normal for a couple to argue, but you love him so much and you knew he loves you too. “You know we don’t have to cancel our plan right?” he said after you expressed your disappointment. 

“It’s raining like crazy Ollie,” you said pointing the obvious while unpacking the picnic basket you two had prepared.

“We can still go on a walk, play in the rain for a bit, I swear it will be fun!” his reply got muffled as he hugged you from behind, burying his face in your hair, how are you supposed to decline his invitation?

And that’s how, three days later, you found yourself lying in his bed together with him, the two of you feel like dying from the cold you two caught because of the rain.

You know I love a London boy

I enjoy nights in Brixton, Shoreditch in the afternoon

He likes my American smile

Like a child when our eyes meet, darling I fancy you

Among all the things you’ve done together with Ollie, your favorite one might be walking around Brixton at night on a weekend. Strolling around Brockwell Park, going to a random concert held in O2 Academy, and visiting the infamous Westminster Abbey. You just love your night adventure with the boy who has been in your life for the past year.

And he loves it too, just as much. He loves seeing you enjoying the park at night, he loves hearing you singing along to a song performed at the concert, and he loves seeing your eyes light up when you were in awe because of the Church. Ollie just loves everything that has to do with you, he loves everything about you. And he will do anything just to see you smile. 

So please show me Hackney

Doesn’t have to be Louis V up on Bond Street

Just wanna be with you

Wanna be with you

You love traveling London with your own London boy. Going to Hackney, visiting the British Museum, walking around Victoria Park, anything really, as long as you are together with him.

Ollie also loves traveling with you too, well, he just loves you, really. He may be not as open as you at expressing his love, but everyone clearly knows just how much he is in love with you. How he would drop everything just to be with you if you asked him. How he would literally fly from Italy, ditching his training at the Ferrari Driver Academy, just to be with you if you called him.

Seriously, everyone could clearly tell that both of you are just two people being insanely in love with each other. And everyone also knew that nothing can change that.

[ereardon]

In The Skies || Ch. 1 [Major John "Bucky" Egan x Reader]

Overview: On a night out in London, you meet fellow American Major John “Bucky” Egan of the 100th. As war rages on, you take a leave of absence during the spring of your third year at Oxford to sign up as a nurse on the front lines in England. Time and time again, you and Bucky find yourselves thrown together in the hospital ward as you tend to him and his teammates after missions gone awry. What happens when you find yourself falling for a man who might never return from the skies? 

Pairing: Major John “Bucky” Egan x Reader

Chapter summary: You spend one eventful night with Major "Bucky" Egan after a night out in London. Will you ever see him again?

Warnings: Smut, alcohol, cursing, definitely historical inaccuracies

WC: 2.6K

Masterlist here

“Want a drink?” 

“Sure!” Your voice got lost in the crowd. The bar, somewhere in Camden, was packed, a mixture of men in uniform and women with drawn-on hosiery packed like sardines in the tiny room. Music swelled over the chaos of voices, and you could feel your heartbeat in your ears from the sheer volume of everything.

It was exhilarating. 

It was the week before exams, and you and two girlfriends had decided to throw caution to the wind, taking the train from Oxford and staying in the city in a flat that Mary’s sister rented, the four of you squished in two tiny beds with one mirror and a bathroom in the hallway. 

But the allure of London was such a vibrant change from Oxford. Even during the war, there was something romantic about the city. Maybe, in the fact of everything, it was the potential. To be who you wanted to be. To live a life worth living. 

Or, perhaps the real reason your friends had wanted to go to London for the weekend, was the men. 

So many military men. 

You’d had your share of flings with Brits. There were the other students at Oxford. The townies nearby. You even danced on the edge of a romantic relationship with a professor. But in the end, they all went belly up. 

Mary pressed a drink into your hand and you took a sip, eyes darting around the room. You had come to London only a handful of times in the two-and–a-half years you had been at Oxford. It was overwhelming, after the quietness of rural England. The hustle, the sheer volume of bodies, the loud voices and incoherent accents. Almost three years in England and you still could barely understand a British accent. 

Mary and Eileen had an easier time adjusting. Eileen was also an American, from California. She looked like a film star, and you envied her sometimes. Mary was more quiet, originally from Dover, with diminutive features. 

Barely an hour into arriving, they had both been swept into conversations with handsome men. You waved them off with a smile. That was the purpose of going to the bar, you reminded yourself. Experience life outside of the Ivy-covered halls of Oxford. Throw caution to the wind, just once. In the midst of all the tragedy and the chaos and the death, you were twenty one. You were just starting to live. 

“Need a refill?” The voice was unmistakably American. Midwest American if you had to guess. You looked up from where you had been lingering against one dark wall in the corner of the club. 

That voice. It was deep and throaty, and belonged to a tall man leaning against the wall to your right, his head cocked to one side, deep blue eyes staring straight at you. 

You felt your stomach flip. There was something unmistakeable about his gaze. It cemented you in place, grounding you. He smiled, small lips turning up beneath a groomed mustache. 

“I’m fine,” you replied, hating yourself instantly, the empty glass in your hand saying otherwise. He was going to walk away, try his luck with the next girl, and you cursed yourself. 

Instead, he stayed rooted in place, nodding. “That’s alright. I recognize an American anywhere.”

“New York,” you replied. 

“Wisconsin.” You told him your name. He reached out one solid, large hand. “I’m Bucky.” 

“Bucky? You must have messed up big time to get that as your nickname.” 

He smirked, his hand warm where it was still enveloping yours. You didn’t want to pull away. There was something magnetic about him. “You’re a long way from home.” 

“I’m a third year at Oxford,” you said. He had to lean in closer to hear you above the noise of the club and you could smell the tobacco on his jacket, the musk of whiskey and oranges. “Just here for the weekend.” 

“Seeing a boyfriend?” 

You shook your head. “No.”

Bucky smiled. “Good.” Despite the noise of the club and the competing senses — boisterous laughter, the scent of sweat and perfumes mixed together, the rush of bodies all around — you found yourself entirely captivated by Bucky. He straightened up against the wall where the two of you were leaning. “Want to get some air?” he asked. “Take a walk?” 

“Yes.” He held out a hand and you took it without thinking, not bothering to find Eileen or Mary in the crowd and tell them you’ve left. You simply let Bucky sweep you out into the cool London night. 

The air outside was biting against the thin silk of your dress and you shivered almost immediately. He shrugged off his jacket, a fur-trimmed bomber coat and wrapped it around your shoulders without you asking. 

You looked up at him, eyes wide. “What’s your real name?” you asked quietly. “Unless your mother had an awful sense of humor and named you Bucky from birth.” 

He laughed, the sound echoing in the empty street. “John Egan, ma’am.” 

“Ma’am,” you repeated, the word slippery on your tongue. “Makes me feel old.” 

“You don’t look a day over twenty.” 

“Twenty one,” you replied. “Last week.” 

Up ahead, yellow street lamps tossed delicate rings of light into the road. It was a T junction. You could go left or right. He stopped underneath the lamp at the intersection and you turned to face him. “Y/N,” he said. “I’m leaving tomorrow. What do you say we make this a night we won’t forget?” 

“Do you say that to all the girls?” you whispered. “Or just the ones you pick up in clubs.” 

Bucky smirked. “I say it because it’s true.” He paused, his face falling. “And because this time, we might not come back.” There was something dark and defeated in the way he said it. 

Again, without thinking, you reached up, trailing one hand over his cheek. He pressed into your palm without thinking, closing his eyes for a second before popping them open. “Can’t let a soldier go off to war without a proper sendoff,” you replied quietly. “Wouldn’t be very patriotic of me, now would it?” 

He reached out, pressing both hands to either side of your face, delicately stroking your cheek with his rough, large thumb. “No, it wouldn’t. And you’re a good little American, aren’t you sweetheart?” 

“For my troops?” you whispered. “Anything.” 

He leaned down, brushing his lips against yours. You felt goosebumps prickle at your skin. He tasted warm, like tobacco and whiskey, and his mouth opened gracefully, accepting your lips across his, his tongue finding yours with soft padding. 

Bucky pulled back, sliding both of his large, warm hands across the sides of your face. His slate blue eyes bore into yours for a moment and even though you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk in London, everything else faded away. It was just the two of you, and empty space all around. 

At the hotel, you slipped off your heels near the door, looking around. It was a small room, just a bed in the middle, a chair next to one wall, and a window overlooking the street. Bucky closed the door. You turned to him, eyes wide. “You ever done anything like this, sweetheart?” he murmured. 

You shook your head. “Can’t say that I have.” 

“So why me?” he asked. “Why tonight?” 

“It’s war, Bucky,” you whispered. “People do things because they can. While they can.” 

He stepped closer, his scent surrounding you. He was tall, so much taller without your heels on, and you craned your neck up to look at him. He cupped your face gently. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “Might be the last pretty face I ever see.” 

“Don’t say that.” 

“It’s true.” He pulled away, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Silently, you admired the way his thighs stretched the dark green fabric of his uniform, how long his legs were as he tapped one brown leather shoe against the carpet. “You don’t know what it’s like up there. Not knowing if we’re ever coming back.” 

“Do you have a wife back home?” you whispered. 

He looked up, frowning. “You think I’d be here with you if I had a wife?” 

“I don’t know. Some men might.” 

Bucky shook his head. “No. I don’t have a wife. Or a girl.” 

“Tonight I’ll be your girl,” you whispered, slotting yourself between his legs, Bucky’s fingers automatically reaching out, tracing along the lines of your legs covered in hosiery. His fingertips ran along the back seam of your pantyhose behind your knee as you sucked in a breath, winding your arms around his neck.

“Is that a promise?” he asked, voice thick and deep. His eyes pierced yours. 

“Are you going to come back safe?” you whispered. 

“I’ll do my best.” 

“Then it’s a promise,” you murmured, leaning down, pressing your lips to his, Bucky’s hands circling your waist, tugging your body against him, one of his hands threaded in your hair at the base of your neck where it was pinned under. He tasted of tobacco and drink and you let him slide his hands up beneath your dress, gasping as his fingers gently brushed over your bottom, fingertips grazing the snaps of your garter where it clipped to your thigh highs.

“Can’t tell you the last time I touched real stockings,” he whispered. You didn’t have the heart to tell him they were your last pair, and that you had been saving them. Most days, you drew a line up the back of your leg like all the other women, replicating the seam of stockings but going without in order to support the war. 

“And how do they feel?” 

Bucky looked up, his enormous hands clasped around the back of your thighs where your bare flesh sat between the edge of your panties and the top of the stockings. “Amazing.” 

You tipped your head back in a sigh as he gripped your bottom, squeezing the bare flesh tightly. He unclipped the stockings, rolling them down your left, then your right, leg, slowly. You reached out, undoing his tie, his blue eyes watching yours with rapt attention as your fingertips shook while you undressed him. 

His skin was warm as you slid your fingers over his bare chest, admiring the smattering of hair in the center of his sternum, the small scar on his left shoulder blade. You couldn’t help but run your hands over his abs, so clearly defined but still soft, the way the muscles melted into each other like rounded mountaintops. 

You spun around so Bucky could undo the buttons on the back of your dress. There was an intimacy as he worked his way down your back until the dress peeled off. You placed your hands over your chest, turning around shyly. 

“Don’t cover up, baby,” he whispered, voice low and gravely. “Let me see you.” 

Slowly, you removed your hands, standing in front of him in only your sheer ivory slip dress. Buck reached up, tracing one hand over your breast, your nipple straining against the fabric, the air in the room full of expectation. You gasped as he slid the lacy strap off of your shoulder, exposing your chest, leaning forward and taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking hard as you threaded your fingers into his curling dark hair. “Oh!” 

He pulled you down against him, rolling you over until your back was against the bed, his head still level with your chest as he kissed across your exposed skin. Your fingertips dug against his back, eyes closing as you widened your hips, letting him sit between your thighs. 

You had been with men before. Oxford, for all of its poshness and etiquette, had seen a spike in debauchery since the war broke out. So different from back home. You were different here than you were at home. 

But being with those other men was nothing like being with Bucky. His mustache tickled over the exposed skin of your neck as he pressed inside of you, his arms wrapping around your whole body, keeping you warm, holding you as close as possible as you moved together, your fingers tangled in his hair, your ankles curled around his hips, your moans drenching the small gap of air between the two of you. 

And as he finished, his forehead pressed against yours as he moaned into the night, hips shuddering against your body, you let go. 

You laid in the bed, tucked squarely in Bucky’s embrace, your face close to his chest as he lit up a cigarette, blowing the smoke away from you. His fingertips danced over your shoulder. “So how do you like England?” he asked. 

You pushed up off of him, chuckling. “England? Oh it’s fine. All beans and toast and pints. Still not used to the accents. I have to ask my professors to repeat themselves all the time, they think I’m hard of hearing.” 

He smiled. “What are you studying?” 

“Biology.”

“Biology?” He took a puff of his cigarette. “To do what?” 

“Research. I like plants and gardening and animals.” 

He reached out, playing with one ringlet of hair that had fallen loose from your updo. “A New Yorker who likes gardening? Never heard of such a thing.” 

“We had plants on our rooftop. I used to go out there every afternoon to sit with my schoolwork, reading by the fire escape. Dream about being anywhere else. Somewhere green.” 

“England is green,” Bucky said. “Outside of London of course. From up there, it’s all green.” 

“What’s it like?” you asked. “Flying.” 

“Scary as shit,” he replied and your eyes widened. He stubbed out the cigarette in a bowl on the nightstand. “No matter how good you are, no matter how many times you’ve made it back, you never know what you’re going to find.” 

“You’re scared?” 

“Fucking terrified.” 

You traced one hand down the side of his face. “What if you didn’t go back to base tomorrow?” you whispered. 

“I have to. I have my men to worry about.” 

“Tell me about your friends.” 

“Well there’s Croz. Smart sonofabitch, but sick every time he gets in the air. There’s Curt and Rosie.” He smiled. “And then there’s Buck.” 

“Buck?” You frowned. “I thought you were Buck.” 

“I’m Bucky, he’s Buck,” he clarified. “It’s a long story.” 

“Two peas in a pod, then?” 

“He asked me to be his best man,” Bucky said and you saw the way his face turned up in a soft smile. His eyes were far away, like he was dreaming. 

“Bet you look good at a wedding,” you whispered. 

His eyes returned to yours. He grabbed your hand, pulling it in, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “Be my date?” 

You laughed. “To a wedding for two people I’ve never met?” 

“They’ll love it. Trust me, it’ll be great.” 

“Alright, you promise me to come back home safe, and I promise to be your date to this mysterious Buck’s wedding. Unknown date or location.” 

He grinned. “Now don’t go breaking that promise, sweetheart. You’d just about break my heart.” He leaned in for a kiss and you tumbled back onto the bed, a heap of arms and legs and sighs. 

In the morning, you crept out of bed. Bucky laid on his stomach, arms tucked beneath the pillow, snoring softly as you rolled on your stockings, buttoned your dress behind you. You sat down at the desk in the corner before tucking the note into his jacket pocket and stepping into your heels. 

As you opened the door, you took one last look back. He was handsome. So damn handsome. 

You hoped with your whole heart that he would return from the skies. 

A/N: This is my first time writing for MOTA or doing anything set in a different period so please bare with me as I work on my period writing skills!

Tagging some people I think may enjoy this:

@gretagerwigsmuse @gigisimsonmars @iangiemae @tgmavericklover @sunny747 @perfectprettypisces @na-ta-sh-aa @ryebecca @kmc1989 @spinning-away @yorkshirekiwi @clancycucumber230

[eardefenders]

Sherlock & Co - Mailbag Episode 3 Transcript

00:00 John: Heyyy there, I’m,uh, I’m, uh, back in your ears! Heh. Uh, thanks for inviting me in. Um, I-I just wanted to add a chunk on before this Q and A just to give you an update on all things Gloria Scott. Uh, thanks so much for the kind words, first off. Uh I-I-I did warn about its angst. Um, and I appreciate i-it’s not always a fun ride when, when those kinds of things happen. Um. But hey! I’m glad you all enjoyed it. Um, glad the masterful sound design was appreciated.

00:32 John: Uhm, yeah I thought I’d, I’d check in now and give you a rundown of it all. Post match interview sort of stuff. Uh, Lionel did recover from the stroke. He is out of hospital, but he will be going back to Australia. Um. He’s-he's obviously cooperating with the government, um, down there. It’s not an easy situation, but he’s handling it with remarkable grace and dignity. Um. Victor is, as well. Can’t quite get the read on things with him at the moment. He’s obviously very, very torn. Uh, we solved the case for him, but, y’know, yeah. H-he’s in a much worse place then he was before. Um. *pause* Such is life. Uh, such is a very complicated life, I should say. He’s helping his dad, with the inquiries. Uh, m-my gut says there’ll be prison time. *sucks teeth* Um, y’know, c-cooperation and evidence and the, yeah, t-the mitigating circumstances might be helpful to Lionel and all, but, uh… *deep breath* ultimately lives were lost. He was complicit. Y’know this is the world we live in.

01:49 John: *sucks teeth* Victor has paused the job search, but uh I-I do believe he’ll be coming back to the UK once, y’know, whatever happens, happens. But, uh, yeah. Tough stuff. Um, glad you all enjoyed Mariana joining in on the adventure. Um, don’t know if she enjoyed it all that much. So far she’s watched corpses get pulled out of the canal and now she’s watched an elderly stroke victim get extradited for murder. So, uh, y’know. *chuckles lightly* Welcome to the world of true crime, Ametxazurra!

02:23 John:Um, Sherlock asked me to apologize, also, actually. Um, yes, to apologize that he wasn’t technically correct in his solving of the case. Um, uh, Hunter did reveal the actual truth. I, I told him people wouldn’t really mind. He got me to apologize anyway, so, uh, yeah. There you go. Um, so he’s been a right mopey bastard, as you can imagine. *clears throat* So, to cheer him up, I carted him off to…an indoor theme park! Heh, yeah, you heard that right. Theme park. But indoors. Well, theme park’s a bit strong to be honest. I-I-It’s like an arcade with an indoor roller coaster. But yeah! Y’know! Uhm, back to Camden, but for a much more enjoyable experience.

03:05 John: These questions were asked, um, before The Gloria Scott episode aired. T-two that I ask Sherlock right at the end are eerily prescient. Um, that’s the right word, I think? Uh, I hope. Welp, you’ll see what I mean. Enjoy!

03:19-3:49 *Intro Music*

03:47 *Arcade Sounds Fade In, we can hear Sherlock exerting himself*

03:50 John: Yoooo, wassup guys! Welcome to the John Watson channel where we talk all things John Watson all the time! Ehh, that’s my impression of a youtuber or real podcaster, hope you enjoyed it. Ah, right, Sherlock, tell the members where we are.

04:01 Sherlock: Indoor theme park! Augh! *through gritted teeth* You little alien bastard! Get back here!

04:09 John: Sherlock is doing some whack-a-mole, ah, or they’re aliens in this place, not moles. Could be alien moles. Who knows. Ah, it’s an indoor theme park in *in a very exaggerated North London accent (genuinely he sounds like an ass here)* North London. That’s North London, sorry. Bit excited. Had about a kilogram of sugar. Haha, I’m looking at all sorts here. Arcade machines, carousels, basketball hoop game thingy, air hockey, bumper cars -dodge’ems, call’em what you will-, and an indoor roller coaster! Hahahaa! It’s wild stuff. Okay, let’s get to some questions over a casual game of air hockey.

04:40 *Audio Cut, sounds of air hockey being played*

04:41 Sherlock: Have that! *puck hit sound* And that!

04:44 John: ‘Have that and that’? What are you, a musketeer? Hahahaaaa! *sound of a puck entering the goal* First point Watson! Heyheyheeeey, ahhhh. And now for the first question. Uh, Tonkster aka Resetoaster asks, “To John and Sherlock, if you go to Subway -the fast food I should clarify- what do you usually order?”

05:03 Sherlock: *with exertion* You’re *sound of the puck being hit* distracting me! Ah!

05:06 John: Ah, you wouldn’t be saying that if you were winning.

05:07 Sherlock: I’m not winning *puck hit sound* precisely because of it.

05:11 John: Alright, fine. I’ll answer. Uh, I like the turkey club. Is that-Ow! That hit my finger. *hisses in pain*- I think there’s a turkey one. Um, I like that one on plain-ish bread. I don’t think their fancy breads are all that good. Uh, and then I’ll have a southwest sauce- Wham! Haha! *sound of puck entering goal*

05:23 Sherlock: Oh, bugger.

05:26 John: Subway order?

05:26 Sherlock: Never been.

05:27 John: Great.

05:27 *audio cuts. Sounds of automatic rifle fire going off*

05:29 John: Reloading. Cover me!

05:29 Sherlock: Covering.

05:30 John: Incoming at your two o’clock.

05:31 Sherlock: On it!

05:32 *sounds of two loud gunshots*

05:33 John: Yesss, Sherlock. Right, through the lobby. Okay, let’s see how this goes. Bellaxbear01 asks “If you guys want another pet, what animal would it be? Another dog, another cat, or maybe a fish?”

05:47 Sherlock: I like fish. *sound of gunshots* Very much. Reloading.

05:50 John: *pleased* Oh, hahah! I like fish too!

05:52 Sherlock: Really?

05:53 John: Yeah! Tropical?

05:54 Sherlock: Tropical or temperate.

05:56 John: Well that’s good to know. Yeah, worth maybe one day looking into that? Oo! Getting shot at here. Uh, Amelie5 asks “Do you have a favorite case you’ve solved so far?

06:05 *sounds of a big gun being fired*

06:07 Sherlock: A good question at bloody last. Die you bastards! *big boom*

06:12 John: Oh wowhaowhaooow! *sounds of I guess dirt falling, maybe bodies???* *with a smile in his voice* Oh, you made him blow up! Ha! Ahh, I know the feeling. Poor sod.

06:18 Sherlock: I rather enjoyed the Red Headed League.

06:22 John: Yep, that was a good’un. -Oh, duck down! That’s a machine gun.- Did you like the Red Headed League because of the case or because it proved me wrong about it being boring?

06:27 Sherlock: Mmm, both.

06:28 John: Great, well-oh I’m dead. *sound of man yelling, presumably John’s character dying in the game* Balls.

06:31 *audio cut. Ambient arcade sounds with something fizzing at the forefront*

06:34 John: What is that?

06:35 Sherlock: *struggling to speak* opp ing andy.

06:37 John: Opping Andy?

06:38 Sherlock: *still struggling to speak, but clearly annoyed* Op-opping. Andy.

06:41 John: Ohhhh, popping candy. Right. Well, RangerPip asks any specific reason you started smoking a pipe?

06:49 Sherlock: *unintellible gargling and consonant sounds*

06:54 John: Right, well, if you understood that RangerPip, well done you, haheh. *pause* *in a considering tone* Hunnh. He may or may not be choking.

07:03 *audio cut, loud music and bumper car sounds*

07:04 John: Ah!

07:04 Sherlock: Ahahaha!

07:05 John: Hahahah, left! Left! Left!

07:08 Both: Ah! *sound of impact*

07:09 John: Oh my god, my ribs! Argh, right! Let’s get up some more speed and smash into these kids-uh, I mean! These, um, big burly blokes.

07:17 Sherlock: Here we go.

07:20 John: Yesss, Sherlock, we are at some speed now, baby! Hahahah, right! Question from Raylein, “Does Archie get human food? And if he does, who feeds it to him?”

07:30 John: Ah yeah I do feed him, I-

07:30 Sherlock: Yes.

07:33 John: Wait.

07:34 Sherlock: What?

07:35 John: You’re feeding him as well?

07:36 Sherlock: I am, yes!

07:38 John: Well, that explains a lot. Uh, yeah Raylein, I don’t really like animal products going to waste so I just, um, I chuck him all sorts. Ope, here we go. Come here you little shits.

07:44 Sherlock: Ahhhhhhhh!

07:45 John: *sound of impact* Ah hahah!

07:48 *audio cut, it’s much quieter now, but they’re still at the arcade*

07:49 John: *remorsefully* I just didn’t think they’d cry and tell their mums is all.

07:51 Sherlock: That’s what children do. *accusingly* You told me to smash into them.

07:55 John: I did not say that.

07:57 Sherlock: Can I get the SD card out of your microphone and check?

08:00 John: No.

08:01 Sherlock: See.

08:02 John: Andrew says, “Question for Sherlock: Do you have any piercings? And, if you don’t, do you want any? And, if you do, which ones do you want?”

08:10 Sherlock: *sucks in a deep breath* Ear piercing. I haven’t used it for some time.

08:14 John: Why not?

08:15 Sherlock: Was that asked in the Discord?

08:17 John: What?

08:18 Sherlock: That. Just then.  The ‘Why not?’

08:21 John: …No.

08:22 Sherlock: *takes a breath* Well then. I needn’t answer it. This is a time for members.

08:26 John: Right. Great. Lovely. Ok, MushPit says “Your deductive skills, was it talent you were born with or a skill that you developed and perfected over time?”

08:34 Sherlock: I assume MushPit is asking me, not you?

08:37 John: Ah ha ha, very funny.

08:40 Sherlock: My senses have always been, um-

08:43 John: Overcalibrated?

08:44 Sherlock: Yes, quite. Sooo, I’ve always observed a lot. When I found it difficult to tune out of my surroundings, I decided to analyze them. Then it became rather addictive. Yes, it became a skill, but I feel it much stronger then a skill. It feels like a byproduct of my very existence. I cannot unlearn it. IIII cannot wind it down or soften it. It occupies me as much as I do it. I fear that I  cannot stop it. Even if it kills me. Even if it drains everything from me and I can never truly find it to know myself, to know my surroundings without the necessity…uh, no, the-the requisite to my very self. To t-try to understand everything-

09:33 John: The rollercoaster’s ready.

09:34 Sherlock: Oh.

09:35 John: Uh, we- we can finish if you want? Uh, y’know we can go on it later?

09:40 *audio cut, we can hear the roller coaster going and John and Sherlock on it. John keeps saying ‘Woohoo! Wheee!’ and Sherlock is saying joyfully ‘Bloody fantastic! Absolutely bloody fantastic!’ Both of them also keep laughing in between their exclamations*

09:48 *audio cut. We’re outside. London traffic can be heard.*

09:53 John: Oh that was good! Wasn’t it?

09:54 Sherlock: *pleased* Superb.

09:56 John: Not a bad idea, is it? A theme park, indoors? I mean we were a little old for it, but hey, y’know, there’s no age limit on enjoyment! Well, I mean you can’t go jumping into a soft play or anything like that, but yeah. Yeah. Now we are walking near Chalk Farm. Not actually a farm of chalk, of course. It’s just a nice place between Bellsides Park and the Northern end of Camden town. How’s that q and a session for you, mate?

10:16 Sherlock: Is that question on the Discord?

10:17 John: Right, ok. This is not a thing. You can still have normal chats with me inbetween members questions.

10:25 Sherlock: Noted.

10:26 John: Well it’s a question for me now anyway. Um, has your mother finally listened to the podcast? And if yes, what does she think of it? Uh, yes, has she listened? She has! She didn’t like the sound of my bomb. That makes two of us, there. Eheh. Uh, and she sent me further messages about Mariana. And! She will occasionally point out when I’ve been rude to people on the show. *clicks tongue* She also asked me if the Austrian man’s face was okay, so she has at least, definitely finished one adventure. And, no. His face is not. Ok. Mum. Uhh, so- hunh, this is weird.

10:59 Sherlock: What’s that?

11:01 John: Two questions here, next to each other. Uh, I-I’m not making this up. First one, Ramt or-or Ramtonk, “t-the flowers on my orchids are gone, but the plants themselves are thriving. Uhh, they’re watered as they should be and get optimal sunlight. Will the flowers ever come back?”

11:19 Sherlock: *pleasantly surprised* Hhha!

11:20 John: Right? Yeah and the second one from Batonks the Graveyard Ghost says, “Question for John, do you have any funny memories from your childhood that you’d like to share with us?”

11:30 Sherlock: Yes, that is quite remarkable.

11:32 John: Well! I’ll let the adventure of The Gloria Scott answer those questions! So, ah, everybody, thanks so much for these. I hope you enjoyed the answers. Sorry it’s been so short, but I’ve just noticed that that’s our bus!! We’re gonna miss it! Go! Go! Go!

11:46 Sherlock: *frustrated sigh* For goodness sake!

11:47-12:17 *Outro Music Plays*

[likedovesinthewindd]

hi luv! if you could, id rlly appreciate you writing Hobie Brown w/ a french girl🫶🫶 and she js came from Paris to London but doesn’t know too much english🫶(also if she dresses like a posh girl with ribbons nd all)

TYSMM

this is so cute! I'm obv not French so apologies for any inaccuracies.

hobie brown x french fem!reader

❁ the first time he sees you is at one at his gigs, and you're sticking out like a sore thumb. you're all soft colors and pretty ribbons, like a present wrapped prettily just for him.

❁ and he's curious as to what a girl like you was doing in a place like this, so when he finishes his gig, he's making his way to where you're sitting by the busy bar and striking up a conversation, charming as ever.

❁ he doesn't miss the accent, very different from the Camden accent he's become so accustomed to.

❁ you don't reveal too much about yourself; simply stating that you've been traveling. that much was a bit obvious to him, considering the accent and the fact that you seemed to enjoy this seedy bar way more than any of the locals ever did or will. your english also wasn't the best, but it was good enough to get by, most importantly good enough to keep the conversation going with the cute stranger. his thick accent made it hard to understand what he was saying sometimes, but even through the conversation barrier the two of you still clicked.

❁ "there are much better places to see than this, love," he tells you with a smirk, gesturing towards the small bar but you only shrug with a small laugh.

❁ you use this as your opportunity, timidly asking him if this was his way of offering you a tour of the city. the sentence itself may not have been constructed in the best way, but he thankfully understood you.

❁ you spend the next few weeks wandering around the city with hobie by your side, him taking you to places you knew no tour guide would even consider. you weren't complaining though; he had a way for making any place sound like the most interesting location on earth.

[jokeroutsubs]

Joker Out in Metropolitan magazine: "Another step forward"

An interview with Bojan Cvjetićanin and Kris Guštin in the autumn/winter 2023 issue of Metropolitan magazine (published 27.10.2023). They talk about their plans for next year (recording in London, touring, and the new album), the way they approach making music, and how they've changed after Eurovision.

Another step forward

The highly successful group Joker Out, consisting of Bojan Cvjetićanin, Kris Guštin, Nace Jordan, Jan Peteh and Jure Maček, is already well-known and warmly received here. The biggest night of their career - sold-out Stožice - is behind them. 12 thousand listeners (including me) gathered in Ljubljana's arena, where we enjoyed hit after hit for two whole hours. Even though they're still young and at a relatively early stage of their journey, Joker Out are already an accepted constant on the Slovenian, and now also international, music scene. They're so omnipresent and so high-profile that it feels like they've been active for decades already, even though we've only really started listening to them. So we are definitely interested to see what else they will get up to in the future.

M: At the end of September, you released your first song in English. Was that foreshadowing for the album?

Bojan: One song on the album is ticked off, and you can expect the whole album next year, around this time.

Kris: After the New Year, we'll start recording it abroad.

Bojan: We've decided to take our time and work through the things that have happened to us so that our feelings can settle down and we can allow ourselves both a creative break and a break from performing. We will start afresh in the new year and go abroad for the first time. We won't approach the new album the same way we did Demoni, where we set ourselves a four-month timeframe to make it; rather, the creative process will last from January until somewhere around mid-summer. We will also probably be in different locations.

M: You said that you were going abroad. Did you mean that in terms of recording, or that you are heading onto their scene? In recent months, you've already stepped onto international stages, where everyone received you with open arms.

Bojan: Yes, in a sense we're already present on the foreign scene, but while recording the album, we will move to London for a few months to create there as well. We have a European tour coming up in March and the first week of April, then we will return to London, and over the summer we'll perform at festivals and return home to our base. After releasing the album at the end of September or in October, we will do another tour or two.

M: You mention London a lot. Have you grown really attached to it?

Bojan: London filled us with inspiration and captivated us the most. It's true that the new song is called Sunny Side of London, but it doesn't actually have any connection to London other than me having to pick a location. The idea was born when we were driving around England in a bus that you sleep in overnight while it's driving from one location to another. When we were driving from Glasgow to London, I woke up in the morning, just happened to open the window, and we were just driving past the Palace of Westminster, which was bathed in sunshine. And that is how the song title came to be! (laughter) But the song is about our fans, our concerts, our connection with the fans - it actually describes the experiences from past concerts.

M: Given that you've spent quite some time in London, do you each have your own favourite corner of it?

Kris: I liked Camden a lot.

Bojan and Kris (in an English accent): Camden town!

Bojan: A part of London that I love a lot is Richmond. It seemed like a fairy tale to me.

M: What kind of response did you get when you released your first song in English?

Kris: To be honest, the response was a lot better than I expected. We weren't afraid, but we did expect some negativity from the Slovenian public who is used to the Slovenian language, but I think that we got good support from the Slovenian and Balkan audiences. It seems that we all understand that this is something that's necessary for wider commercial success abroad, to allow us to build a career there. On the other hand, I also want to say that we didn't force ourselves to make a song in English, it happened completely naturally. As we were working on it, Bojan started singing the lyrics to Sunny Side of London over the music.

Bojan: In the studio, we followed Žare's [Pak, their producer] rule that the language you're drawn to at the start should be the one you finish in. We made a few demos while we were in the studio, Sunny Side of London was the one we liked the most, and I started writing it in English and it stayed that way. We've learned that that's the only way to go, because at some point we had planned to translate our songs from Slovenian to English, but then we saw that there was no point in doing that. When a song is made in one language, it should stay that way. A translation is really just an adaptation of sorts. I think that our listeners could feel that it [SSOL] was an original work.

M: You two are the ones who usually write the lyrics you perform. How about for Sunny Side of London?

Bojan: I wrote the lyrics.

Kris: Bojan wrote the lyrics and we padded it with chords. (laughter)

M: Has your dynamic changed recently, in terms of making music?

Kris: We are changing more and more. Sunny Side of London is actually a good example of how our music-making has evolved. It's true that in the past, Bojči would bring a song to rehearsals, every now and then I would bring one as well, and then we made something from that idea. Now we approach things differently. First we do something with the instruments, you could say that we're 'jamming', then we find some sort of a draft or a moment we all liked, and then we develop our idea based on that, and Bojan has the opportunity to write lyrics for it. Sometimes we have ideas that we can realise later on. For example, Bojan had been thinking about us screaming in a song for a while, but he didn't know how to incorporate that. Well, we found an opportunity to use that. We've got to the point where we feel that it's a natural creative process, and we don't come to rehearsals with a ready-made idea anymore.

M: Would you say that you prefer this way of creating?

Bojan: Actually this natural way is much more freeing, because we are completely carefree in making our musical ideas happen. I am generally a big proponent of the idea that if I can manage to make a song the way I imagined it, I absolutely like that. It results in some slightly different songs as well, but I think that 'jamming' is really healthy for the band.

Kris: It's also true that Bojan has less and less time to write songs at home. It's better to come to rehearsals when we have two days off between tours, because that's where we shatter ourselves with music. That's how we express the feelings that have built up in us during a tour.

Bojan: We can truly refresh our minds and express what we feel. In the week we spent in the studio, we got a lot of top quality material. Completely spontaneously and naturally. I'm not worried about the new album, because we already know that we have some top quality drafts that we keep thinking of and we can't wait to get to them. On the other hand, we still have four months of living in a new environment coming up, which will definitely give us new wings in that regard.

M: So it suits you that you'll be going out of your comfort zone?

Bojan: Absolutely.

Kris: Like you said before - we are present on the international scene, but to truly be present means to be in a cultural centre like London, where alongside music, you can also create a team as well as a strategy going forwards, for how you're going to efficiently break into that market.

M: Given that you already have ideas for the album, I'd like to know if there's a message that you want to include in it?

Bojan: Honestly, no. I believe that we will approach our creative work the same way we've approached it before. If we like it, then it's good. We truly haven't adapted any songs in a way that we thought would work if it didn't work for us. We're lucky to have Žare, who is an excellent "filter". He will also come with us abroad, wherever the road takes us. We remain faithful to our base.

Kris: With the new song, we also started working with Sebastian Krys, a nearly 20-time Grammy winner, in the post-production phase. He also put a lot of himself into this song and I believe that he will give a lot to the new album as well. We have another "filter" who is well-established on the international scene.

M: How do you maintain your unique sound on the music scene?

Bojan: Between playing concerts, creating, and growing up, each member of the band has developed a persona behind his instrument. It's fascinating to see how important the person behind the instrument is. Kris, Jan, Nace and Jure have developed a style of playing that really belongs to them and is a kind of indescribable mark that you can recognise, and it is becoming more and more obvious. My character has also been built, as a singer and a musician standing on stage. When we combine all five of us, we get the Joker Out sound. Just yesterday I was having coffee with Žare and he asked me why people respond so strongly to what we're doing. With many musicians, when you're at their concerts, you feel that they are on the stage and you are under the stage. There's no personal connection. People like that seem very inaccessible. We feel that we have managed to keep a playfulness on stage and a relationship with the audience where each individual feels like they're at their own concert, and everyone else just came along. If we look at the ultra-successful stars, they also make you feel like they're singing only to you at their concerts. If we don't lose that, we're good. If we do lose it, then we're f*****! (laughter)

M: How did your life change after Eurovision?

Bojan: We're suddenly able to have concerts all around Europe, which is truly unbelievable. Next year we might be able to go even further, because we really travel a lot. Suddenly there are a lot of things on the line that we haven't had to deal with until now. We faced two big challenges as a band in a short time. After all, this is a group of people who were used to working in their home environment, and then it suddenly changed. If the dynamic changes in a negative way, there can quickly be friction. I'm glad that we had a few "baptisms by fire" where we had to act as one and build stronger bonds to be able to handle all that. I think that we've grown as a band and as individuals.

Kris: Just the fact that we went on holiday together immediately after Stožice says a lot.

Bojan: Yes, the only holiday we have.

M: You're good!

Bojan: Or stupid. (laughter)

Kris: We did have a week when we were each on our own.

Bojan: But we were sick in that time, so we were forced to be apart. That was when we realised how much we missed each other. We're not a group of coworkers anymore, we spend more time together than with any relative or best friend. I feel like I don't know how to live without these four dudes. (laughter)

M: Do you see music differently after Eurovision?

Bojan: Yes! We never want to play with playback again. At Eurovision, only the vocals are live, which is hard for musicians.

Kris: It was an interesting experience, but I really wouldn't do it again.

Bojan: Can you imagine someone telling you once again that you have to spend half a year just emptily plucking your strings?

Kris: And only one song over and over…

M: Is there a song that you're always excited to perform on stage?

Kris: Most of them, but a good example would be Ona.

Bojan: That's true. Ona is a good example, collectively. Or Tokio?

Kris: Nace is the biggest fan of Tokio, but I think we all vibe to it. (laughter) For me it's Plastika.

Bojan: Oooh, yes! And Ne bi smel.

Kris: Oooh, yes! All the songs from the second album. (laughter) Carpe Diem is nice too. Everyone is waiting for that song!

Bojan: I think Novi val is also a very special, really powerful song. Especially now that we've performed it abroad. You realise how many obstacles we have in our heads that can actually be bridged with one click. And when you see an entire hall of people, who had never even thought of getting to know your language before, holding up a light and singing as if they understand what's happening in the song. It's really fascinating.

-----

We watched Joker Out at the biggest performance of their lives and caught their feelings backstage immediately after the show.

Bojan Cvjetićanin: "I imagined that I'd be feeling a lot in the time after the concert, but honestly, I don’t have a single feeling right now. (laughter) I honestly don't know what's going on." (smile)

Jan Peteh: "I feel as if I've been climbing a hill for a year and now I've come down."

Jure Maček: "I feel like we're going on a tour of these kinds of venues."

Nace Jordan: "No feelings, my head's empty." (laughter)

Kris Guštin: "I've got a feeling we're going to enjoy these next three weeks, as we're going on holiday."

(This blurb is from their post-Stožice press conference; you can watch a part of it with English subs on our channel here: Joker Out First Impressions After Stožice Concert)

[aanoia]

rip james potter I believe he would’ve loved taylor swift and for some reason I associate him specifically with London Boy so can you write something w that plsss I love ur writing

YES james would be a swiftie and everyone knows it. I rly hope I did this justice bc there are so so many lyrics, t swizzle makes it so difficult sometimes

London Boy

James Potter x reader words; 2255 song; London Boy by T Swizzle warnings; none rly, js a douchy Ravenclaw my masterlist Remus is Elvis, James is Taylor, Sirius is Lana. PROVE ME WRONG. u cant. anyway, i tried making pancakes for breakfast (at 1pm) and it did not go well. I used three pans and burned multiple pancakes but oh well if you love a song, the marauders, and my writing, request a song fic and your wish shall be my command. HAVE FUN

(I've used this gif so many times and idec)

(We can go driving in, on my scooter)

(Ah, you know, just 'round London)

I love my hometown

As much as Motown, I love SoCal

And you know I love Springsteen

Faded blue jeans, Tennessee whiskey

Transfering from Ilvermorny to Hogwarts was quite a difficult thing to do. The culture shock, the stares, the comments on your accent, everything. It was so much different and dare I say, maybe even better. But that’s mostly because every pretty girl and cute boy you saw had such a dreamy accent you fell in love on the spot.

But something happened, I heard him laughing

I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent

I abruptly stopped walking as the most beautiful sound on Earth filled my ears.

“Y/n?” My new friend and roommate, Lily, asked.

“Who is making that sound?” I asked, peaking around the corner. His bright smile and adorable dimples made my heart speed up as Lily looked over my shoulder and scoffed.

“He’s not worth it, Y/n. That’s James Potter, he's a total dick.” She said, pulling me back  but I froze again as his voice filled my ears. I looked at Lily with an open mouthed smile and she shook her head at me, fighting off a small smile of her own and grabbing my arm, dragging me away.

They say home is where the heart is

But that's not where mine lives

“Oh, how the tables have turned.” Sirius joked as Y/n sauntered away, her usual smirk still on her face despite being rejected for the thousandth time. 

James threw a piece of toast at his face, “Shut it, Pads.”

“I don’t understand.” Remus started. “You obviously like her, why do you keep saying no?”

“He likes the attention, duh.” Peter spoke up with a teasing smile. James rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it.

“Maybe it is a little nice to finally receive the same attention I used to give out, but is that so wrong?” He asked and Remus shook his head.

“Well, I think it is. It wore down on you, Prongs. And you know it. Eventually, it started to hurt you a lot, who says that’ll be different for her?”

You know I love a London boy

I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon

“I’m actually really glad I finally said yes.” James said as we sat in the Three Broomsticks.

I snorted, “Me too. We Americans know how to date, alright. With me, you’ll have the time of your life.”

He likes my American smile

Like a child when our eyes meet

Darling, I fancy you

I smiled widely as I made eye contact with James from across the classroom. He blushed and winked, before scribbling down on a piece of parchment, balling it up and throwing it to me. I unfolded the paper and smiled at the writing. Wanna go out? Yes ☐, Yes ☐ I laughed quietly and wrote down my answer, throwing it back and almost hitting another student in the head.

He frowned at my answer and I winked back, making him shake his head with a silent laugh. 

Nope ☑

Took me back to Highgate

Met all of his best mates

“I will beat you, silly American.” Sirius seethed, scanning the chess board as I sat, smirking widely. 

“Nah, you won’t, Brit.”

“Y/n, you should really give me your notes for Potions, I fell asleep.” Peter said with a sheepish smile and I motioned towards my bag, not taking my eyes off the board.

“I finished the book.” Remus said, coming into the common room. “Thank you for letting me borrow it, Y/n. It was a truly amazing book, and your annotations made it even better.” He said, setting the book on my bag and I gave him a thumbs up.

My smirk grew as I met Sirius’ eyes.

He shook his head, “Don’t you dare.” I opened my mouth. “Y/n, don’t say it. Don’t do i-”

“Checkmate.” He groaned in annoyance and flipped the board. I giggled as I picked up the pieces, proud of my win. Little did I know James watched me with a fond smile as he witnessed me interact so greatly with the people that meant most to him. Next stop, his parents.

So I guess all the rumors are true

You know I love a London boy

Boy, I fancy you, ooh

“Hello, dears. Come on in.” James’ mother said with a warm smile and I nodded, stepping into her cozy home with a smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” I said kindly and she waved me off.

“Please, the pleasure is all mine. When I found out my little Jamesie finally got himself a girlfriend I was ecstatic!” She giggled and James groaned.

“Mom!”

And now I love high tea

Stories from Uni and the West End

You can find me in the pub

We are watchin' rugby with his school friends

“No, no, no- ahh damnit.” I groaned, the Quidditch team I rooted for losing the game in anger as Sirius cheered.

“Yes! Take that, Miss America!” Sirius boasted and I rolled my eyes, shoving his shoulder roughly.

“You’re an ass, Black.” I said with a smile so he knew I was joking.

Show me a grey sky, a rainy cab ride

Babes, don't threaten me with a good time

“Let’s dance.” I said, standing up from the ground and brushing myself off before offering my hand to James.

“In the rain?” He asked, his eyebrows raised.

I nodded, “Yes. In the rain.”

James laughed and shook his head before taking my hand and lifting himself up. “May I have this dance, m’lady?”

“Why of course, kind sir.”

They say home is where the heart is

But God, I love the English (THE BEST PART OF THIS SONG)

“You guys, I’m gonna be so for real with y’all here, I will never get tired of hearing your voices.” I said seriously and everyone burst out laughing. I shrugged, “I’m serious-” I pointed at Sirius who opened his mouth to make a joke. “Don’t even think about it. But, if I could listen to you guys 24/7 I would, other than Sirius of course. His voice makes me wanna stab my ears with a butter knife.”

“You’re mean.” Sirius pouted and James placed a big kiss on my cheek with a proud smile.

“That’s my girl.” He said proudly.

You know I love a London boy

I enjoy nights in Brixton, Shoreditch in the afternoon

He likes my American smile

Like a child when our eyes meet

Darling, I fancy you

“Dude.” I said to James as we laid on our stomachs in the common room, the fire crackling next to us.

“Dude.” He responded, a lazy smile on his lips.

“I like, hm, how do you English put it?” I feigned thinking for a second and gasped. “Ah yes, I like, fancy you or something.”

“Or something?” He asked.

“Mhm.” I hummed.

He lifted up on his elbows, resting his chin in his hand. “Well, I like, fancy you or something, too.”

Took me back to Highgate

Met all of his best mates

So I guess all the rumors are true

You know I love a London boy

Boy, I fancy you

“Do you miss Ilvermorny?” James asked quietly as we cuddled on his bed, the only sound being Sirius’ soft snores.

“Sometimes. I miss my friends mostly.” I told him and he hummed.

“If you had the opportunity to go back, would you? Like completely move back and start attending Ilvermorny again.”

I thought about it for a second before shaking my head, despite James not being able to see it, “No. I wouldn’t. There’s this boy here-”

James laughed quietly, “Oh really?”

“Yep.”

“Tell me about him.”

“Well, he’s super super cute and his voice is music to my ears, I’m telling you. He’s also super good at Quidditch and because of that he's got thunder thighs and thick thighs save lives.” He laughed, trying to muffle it so his friends didn’t wake up. “He’s just amazing. So I wouldn’t want to leave him, or any of the new friends I’ve made.”

So please show me Hackney

Doesn't have to be Louis V up on Bond Street

Just wanna be with you

Wanna be with you

“Uh, excuse me, why are you bothering my girlfriend?” James asked, wrapping his arm around my waist and I deflated, instantly feeling comfort.

The Ravenclaw boy in front of us scratched the back of his neck, “Sorry. Didn’t know you guys were dating, though, Y/n, you could do much better than this Gryffindor slug.” He shrugged and James tensed.

“You littl-”

“James.” I said, placing my hand on his arm. “He’s not worth it, take a chill pill.” 

“Yeah, that’s right. Listen to your little bitch.” The Ravenclaw said, turning around and walking back to his snickering friends. 

I pulled my wand out quickly and muttered a quick spell at his back, causing him to fly forward, knocking over him and his friends who all groaned in pain on the floor. I looked up with a smirk and made eye contact with Professor McGonagall, my smile dropped. She glanced at the knocked over boys and then back at me, winking and walking away as if she didn’t see a thing.

Stick with me, I'm your queen

Like a Tennessee Stella McCartney on the Heath

Just wanna be with you (wanna be with you)

Wanna be with you (oh)

“Now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for.” Dumbledore said with a smile on the stage. “The Yule King and Queen.” He opened the envelope slowly, dragging it out as long as he could. His smile widened as he read the winners. “James Potter and Y/n L/n, except, Y/n is our King and James is our Queen.” The students laughed loudly as James and I high fived, planning it all along.

We walked onto the stage and got our crowns before bowing dramatically to the crowd who chanted our names, hands in the air. Dumbledore shook his head in amusement, his own laughs falling from his lips.

“Oh, children.” He muttered, walking off the stage.

'Cause you know I love a London boy

I enjoy walking Soho, drinking in the afternoon (yeah)

He likes my American smile

Like a child when our eyes meet

Darling, I fancy you (you)

“Are you ready?” James asked, mounting his broom and giving me his signature smile.

I shook my head, “Nope. I don’t trust you one bit, James. You’re gonna kill me, I’ve seen how you fly.” I said, taking a step away from the broom.

James held out his hand, “Come on, don’t be a wuss.” I sighed and got on the broom behind him, immediately wrapping my arms tightly around his waist. He laughed and flew up in the air. “This is something I could get used to.” He said and I could hear his smile.

“Me too.”

Took me back to Highgate

Met all of his best mates

So I guess all the rumors are true (yeah)

You know I love a London boy (oh)

Boy (oh), I fancy you (I fancy you)

“So, James, will you marry me?” I said on my knee and James snorted.

“You’re such a dork.” He teased and also got down on one knee, pulling a small box from his pocket.

“No shit, you copycat.” I said with a smile as he opened the box to reveal a beautiful ruby ring.

“Y/n, I’ll marry you if you marry me.” He said and I nodded.

“It’s a deal then.” 

So please show me Hackney

Doesn't have to be Louis V up on Bond Street

Just wanna be with you

(Boy, boy, I fancy you, oh whoa, oh, oh)

“Hello, Harry.” I whispered quietly to my newborn, gently brushing the little bit of hair he had out of his face.

“You two are so beautiful.” James said from my side, admiring his son. 

“He’s gonna be British.” I said with a smile and James snorted. “I’ve always wanted a little British baby.”

“You are so weird.” 

I kissed James, “You love me.”

“I do.”

Stick with me, I'm your queen

Like a Tennessee Stella McCartney on the Heath

Just wanna be with you

(Wanna be with you)

(I fancy you, yeah, I fancy you)

“Bye, Harry! Have fun!” I yelled out, pushing down my tears as eleven year old Harry boarded the Hogwarts express for the first time. “Be safe!” I sighed as the train took off and spun the ring on my finger.

“I hope those twins let him help with pranks. You know I slipped them the map.” James said from beside me and I looked at him with wide eyes.

“You what?”

He nodded proudly, “Yep. I slipped the Marauders map into George's bag. Or was it Fred? You know, I really have no clue with those two.”

I snorted and patted his shoulder, turning around to walk out of the platform, but yelped as I was pulled back. James turned me around and planted a fat kiss on my lips, a smile evident on his face.

He pulled away and rested his forehead on mine, “Let’s have another kid.”

I snorted, “Two of you are enough, I don’t need a third.”

“That sounded like a yes.”

“It sounded like a no.”

It apparently was a yes.

Ooh wooh ooh

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