#bumping before his birthday ends for the rest of the world

[jamminvroomvroom]

hi babe i’m here from the dms but. speaking of brain rot, thinking abt fwb lando again where u stay the night after and wake up in the morning expecting him to be gone already for smth work related or what not but he’s still in bed absolutely clinging to u. and then more soft sleepy morning sex 🫠🫠

play pretend.

ln x fem!reader

in which it’s time to stop pretending…

just a little blurb to say…. HAPPY BIRTHDAY @lavenderlando !! sorry i made you wait like 6 months for this lmfao i love u girl, u mean the world to me and i hope this hits the spot 💖💖 lemme know what y’all think, more 4k requests will be worked on asap (it’s exam szn ew)

songs to set the mood: denial by james marriott, real love baby by father john misty, can i call you rose? by thee sacred souls

warnings: 18+!! minors go away! smut, morning sex, friends to lovers, best friend!reader, friends with benefits type relationship, fluff, unprotected sex (don’t be silly…)

1k words

cool air casts goosebumps over your bare skin, the open window letting in the morning breeze. you tug at the grey bedsheets, dragging them higher over your frame where you lay. you eyes are cracked open, hazily taking in the sight before you.

he’s still here.

you often expect lando to be gone when you wake up. sometimes it’s because of work, sometimes it’s because you’d promised not to do this again but alcohol had then rendered the both of you irresistible to the other, and it was too awkward to have yet another jarring conversation about how you’re such good friends.

but he’s there. and he’s looking at you.

“hi.” he croaks, soft and low. you revel in his morning voice on the rare occasions you get to hear it.

“hey.” you mumble, leaning in closer to him.

he pushes the duvet up and away, inviting you into his arms, and you wriggle towards him. he’s a human heater, and you’re cold, that’s the only reason you snuggle up, tucked between his arms.

“you’re still here.” you whisper into his chest, purposefully quiet, almost as if you don’t actually want him to hear you.

“couldn’t leave you.” he mutters quietly.

you crane your head to look up at him, eyes blown wide at the admission.

“why?”

“i hate leaving after.”

the ‘after’ hangs heavy in the air between you for a second. he’s eyeing up your lips and you’re returning the gesture, sleepy eyes flitting between his and his plush lips.

this never happens. usually, the night starts with too many drinks too quickly, progresses to his hands dropping dangerously low on your waist, leads to the pair of you mentally scarring an innocent taxi driver, and ends with you underneath him. or, on top of him. and then, he’s gone.

“for the record, i hate it when you go.” you reply, and the space between you dissipates. there are so many unsaid words being traded between you, an intense charge of energy. you’re anxiously sliding your hands up his sides, itching to feel impossibly closer.

“maybe i should stop going then, hm?” two of lando’s fingers grasp your chin, tilting it up to bump his.

“yeah.” you breathe.

it’s like he’s tugged an invisible string, and you’re melting into him, his lips slotting immaculately over yours, as if they were sculpted by god to rest against yours. he tastes familiar, it’s rare you get to kiss him sober and in the light of day. you bask in it, finding the messy, loose curls tickling the back of his neck, threading your fingers through the thick, brown strands. he groans, parting his mouth just enough for you to slide your tongue over his.

“want you. now.” you gasp urgently into the space where your lips part, your body rolling hungrily against his.

“i always want you, drives me crazy.” lando grunts, grabbing a handful of your ass and pulling you even closer.

lando slots his thigh between your legs, and you search for friction, rutting against him. you’re both naked from the blurry night before so you can feel everything, each part of him so ready for you. you’re slick for him already, can feel the way it’s painting your inner thighs. you hate how easy it is to lose yourself in him.

“take me then.” you whine, your forehead collapsing against his shoulder.

lando smirks, flipping you over so that your back is to his chest, like you’re nothing. he hooks your top leg over his, sliding himself closer to where you’re aching for him.

“can’t keep pretending.” lando whispers against the shell of your ear.

he slides deep, then, filling you to the hilt. it knocks the air out of you, your back arching at the sensation of him hitting every single spot that mattered.

“then let’s not pretend anymore.” you choke out, your head rolling back against his shoulder.

“yeah, baby? wanna be all mine?” he teases, thrusting deep and slow, the slide of him shooting pleasure over your body like the slow, satisfying drip of warm honey.

“already am, all yours.” you sigh, totally and utterly content as your nerve endings pulsed with pleasure.

“good girl.” lando praises, his voice fucked out and lovestruck.

as if he’s rewarding you for your admission, the pad of his finger slips down your navel, finding your clit. you’re soaked for him, wet and warm, and he traces circles into the bundle of nerves, each touch sending you keening back into him.

“so close.” you sound like you’re begging, pleading for him to let you finish all over him.

“gotta say please.” he nips the skin of your shoulder and you squirm, toes curling.

“please, lando.” you writhe, canting your hips back against him.

“sound so pretty for me.” he coos, peppering kisses down your neck.

his fingers speed up against your folds, working you perfectly to a sweet release. everything is still blurred by sleep, your body overly sensitive from the cool air pouring in through the window and the slumber still lodged in your bones.

“cum with me.” you slur, your eyes squeezing shut. you almost turn into him, convulsing in his arms to the point where you’d be staring into his stormy eyes if you could manage to pry yours open.

“let me see those eyes.” he commands, your entire body shuddering. you blink, staring up at him, and you both fold, meeting your ends. he looks fierce, starved, completely enamoured with every single way your face moves.

your jaw hangs agape, a choked cry stifled in the back of your throat. it’s all too much, and just about enough, huge, calloused hands roaming your body as your shake, spilling all over him.

“god.” you breathe, flopping limply against him. he stays buried inside of you, his face lost to the damp skin of the crook of your neck.

“i never would of left all those mornings if i knew this is the good morning i’d get.” lando laughs, the sound deep and wholesome. you cosy yourself up even closer to him.

“not letting you leave from now on.” you murmur, smiling to yourself when you feel his lips press against the back of your head.

“you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

-

sorry this is soooo bad lmao i felt the urge to write something short n sweet xoxo

-

taglist

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[iqzo]

BEAUTY & A BEAST.

(nsfw, rapper connie)

BEING FRIEND WITH INFAMOUS Connie Springer. had it’s up and downs, specially with you being his manager. A lot of speculation about you and him having a relationship was bound to ignite.

After being caught with his crooked pointer finger resting beneath your chin, lifting it up as he stares intensely into your eyes while he held a umbrella in his next hand.

Of course shaderoom was the first to post it then TMZ nosey ass, and the rest of the world. Connie didn’t give a fuck about the accusations, but you did. Knowing how many businesses lines you had and how this rumor might take a toll on it.

Connie sat on the chair, writing lyrics for his new album which would be released in about 4 weeks or 3.

Bumping his head as he found the right words to rhyme with, and the incredible word play that had him hyped the most.

you entered the studio closing the door behind you, Connie turned and his eyes instantly roaming the tight turtle neck dress you wore that ended barely at your thighs.

wearing those big frame glasses Connie adored, and your long butterfly locks framing your face perfectly. you held a clipboard to your stomach resting it on the couch.

you walked up to connie, “Whatchu workin on?” Connie comely eyes glued to the lipgloss combo you had. the outer painted black while the inner was shined up with lipgloss.

“The angel song..” he replied his eyes still wandering around your body as you walked around him to look at the notebook yourself. Connie now hovering above you, your body inches away from his. “Ouu, i like this word play.” you smiled pointing at the same word play that had him hyped.

Connie smiled. wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in closer, instantly taking a whiff of the perfume he had bought you for your birthday. “Connie..are you sniffing me?” you questioned, he lifts his head up from your neck.

“yeah, you smell nice.” he complemented, you casted a smile before looking back down at the notebook. “thank you,” you whispered.

Connie grabbed the chair and pulled it over, sitting down grabbing you down with him. landing on his lap, you continued to view his lyrics, your eyebrows furrowed up. “Is this a love song?” you questioned fixing yourself on his lap so you sat sideways, Connie inhaled deeply hoping you didn’t feel the boner.

“Yea.” he answered, low eyes glued to yours. you moved from side to side thinking he was zoomed out but his eyes followed every movement. “Stop staring at me.” you blushed covering your face with his notebook.

A small grin found its way on connie’s face, “You look fucking beautiful and you expect me to stop staring?” he asked leaning up to you, his mouth near your ear as he continued to talk soft with you. “This dress bout short as fuck, did anyone make you feel uncomfortable on your way here? just tell me and i’ll handle it, baby.” he whispered planting a kiss on your cheek after, you were getting wet and connie knew since he felt the heartbeats.

“n-no..” you whispered, watching his large veiny hands that were designed with rings and a small panda tattoo on the side of his pointer finger slowly waltzing up your thigh. “Con-connie..” Connie wrapped his free hand around your neck pulling your head back locking his lips with yours as the hand beneath your dress started pulling aside your drenched panties, legs spreading for more access.

Connie tongue slipped past your lips and roaming around your mouth, as you struggled to keep up with him since he had a finger already pumping inside you. he inserts a next one. both individuals curved instantly hitting that spot. causing a loud pornographic noise that made Connie pull away with a smirk, “right here?” he asked going more faster as you struggled with the word leaving your mouth.

“agh, c-con, i-i’m gonna, ahh” your legs shakes with a fountain of your juices squirting out landing on connie’s fingers as the rest went onto the floor.

you breathed heavily, while still feeling Connie kissing your neck. you groaned, he slides his fingers out and brought them to your lips, “open.” he said in a demanding tone, your shaky lips parted giving Connie the access to roughly shove his two fingers into your mouth. “Taste how good you are, baby.” he says watching as you licked his finger clean.

he slips his fingers out along with some spit dripping out, he quickly throws you over his shoulder which caught you off guard.

he rest you softly on the couch, sliding your dress up as he unbuckled his pants, zipping it down exposing the heavy bulge in his calvin klein.

“open up for me..” he says, you parted your lips and allowed Connie to dip his fingers inside. applying the saliva onto his cock before sliding hisself in.

Both you and Connie moaned from the feeling of the warmth and gummy walls that enclosed around his dick while you felt completely full by his dick being inside you.

he gave you a minute to adjust to his size before going completely mad.

having you screaming his name out in the studio, you were so happy it was just you and him today.

His hand slide to the underside of your thighs bringing them to his shoulders and leaving them there.

he continued to roughly pound into you, his eyes caught the print of his tip hitting your stomach.

he chuckled which caught your attention, “look baby.” he says, your head picked up to see what he was talking about.

you gasped seeing the outline of his dick, protruding against your stomach. “Damn,” he says through a throaty chuckle, “fuck, wanna touch it?” he questioned you nod your head making connie grasp your wrist, taking it to the bulge.

both hands pressing down on the bulge which caused you to moan, connie’s eyes widened from how your walls tightly wrapped around his cock. “s-shit baby.” he says.

he picked back up his past and began working his way to his climax, sweat beans showing on his forehead, his strokes getting more sloppier each time he went back in. your hands wrapped around his neck, reaching your high cumming all over his dick as he went harder. coating your insides with his semen.

“fu-fuck..” he mumbled, by your ear. now resting on top of you, both out of breath. connie having the energy to lift his head up using his arms as support to hold his body.

“now all i need is a beat,” you glared at him, “get your corny ass off me.” he chuckled before landing a kiss on your cheek.

“i love you,” “i love you too.”

[kfaem]

Love and Deepspace; when their S/O is a kpop idol

notes: brrr new fandom lets go. also yes i went MIA but hey im not like dead

the boys when MC is an idol :) this is self indulgent. im a zayne girlie but i got carried away with raf lol. im tired so this is unedited, poorly written, no structure, and kinda just rambling

Rafayel:

here me out

he was a fan for the longest time, creating multiple pieces based off of you and your likeness

you and your members go to one of his exhibitions and when you make eye contact he's immediately in love more than he was before

kinda in a weird way

but when you approach him first he's in shock and doesnt know what to do

after the initial talking period and when the relationship starts he acts like his normal self

attends every concert and fan meeting

spends hundreds of dollars on your albums, collecting your photocards and solo posters

brags about being your boyfriend on sns and your manager tries to get him to stop

thomas is so embarrassed everytime your manager reaches out and begs him to calm down cause its a bad image

doesnt care about the reporters, is willing to fight with elites over you and your reputation

he's a simp but is also kinda mean sometimes lol

is jealous when you go live and refuse to respond to him to at least an hour and makes his presence known in your chat

i find the image of the matching outfits, couples goals posts on sns, and articles where he names you his muse to just be so <3333

Xavier

You guys bumped into each other at a convenience store, both reaching for the same bag of chips

both flustered with red cheeks, you let him have it and apologized

awkward

so, so very awkward

both of you are stuck in a awkward, silent encounter and neither of you want to say anything

one of your members comes over to see whats taking you so long and realizes that you're in a standoff with a cute blond and decides to play cupid

it worked

you two end up becoming good friends, and then eventually some sort of situationship

he doesnt want to damage your career and acknowledges that you both dont have time to spend with each other

but still acts as a loving boyfriend, buying your albums, concert tickets, merch, birthday specials etc.

then when you guys go on a snack run, a reporter recognizes you and within the week you're caught up in dating rumours

deciding that you guys couldnt avoid the truth, the situationship turned into a real relationship

doesnt really make a big deal out of your relationship or your popularity. would rather spend your guys' spare time reading together, watching movies, eating good food and relaxing

the media eventually forgets but the fans dont

they love every piece of media that ever gets showed, glimpses of xavier in mirrors, reflections on water, glasses, windows. mentions of a lover in interviews when asked what inspired you

just a loving boyfriend who tries to give you a sense of normalcy outside of the flashing lights

Zayne

Childhood friends

he hates your career and how much soul it has taken from you, but also acknowledges that you love what you do and are willing to risk your health and privacy

zayne is the king of situationship lmao

dates all the time, dinners at small restaurants hiding in booths in the far corners since you both like to be alone, together

your members genuinely dont understand how hes "not your boyfriend"

has lingered on music video shoots, using his title as your personal doctor to not raise any eyebrows

doesnt go out of his way to buy your albums but... if hes at a corner store and sees it, he'll buy it. or two. or three.

keeps one of your photocards and a normal picture of you in his wallet, grayson found it on the floor in his office once after it fell out of his wallet and he could never live it down

the entire hospital staff knows but wouldnt say anything for fear of their life

always sending messages no matter what side of the world youre on. Please remember to eat, drink water, and rest as much as you can. Too much strain on your body can cause long-term side effects.

buys tickets to your concerts, trying to hold back his smile as you glow on the stage while performing in front of your many fans

yeah he gets jealous

wont say it

and you can barely tell

but the chill that fills the room when another idol hugs you and is being overly touchy is so very much obvious and has people rushing to do something else

a reporter approaches him and tries to ask about your dating life. he shuts them up with a glare. the reporter doesnt even dare publishing that article.

your fans have a basic idea of what zayne is to you, but they respect you enough to not make a scene of it.

then one of your members gets drunk on a live and asks about your boyfriend and it comes unravelled

you post a picture with him, captioned with a heart, and its never brought up again

has brought your fans food and drinks whenever they set up cafe events for support

he appreciates everything that your fans do for you and has asked them to take care of you when hes not around

your relationship is never actually made official but yall live together when you arent required to be at the dorms and own like two cats so idk

still the caregiver that we love

[hamlets-ak]

Can you write a fic about Reader and Tim celebrating their’s child’s birthday.

Have a nice day ❤️❤️

thank you so much for your request!! have a nice day as well <3

birthday boy ༊*·˚

༘♡ sometimes instead of lines, she'd draw stars, stars, stars...

in which you, timothée and your daughter wake up your son for his birthday

« Wake up! Come on! Wake up! »

You gasped your eyes immediately opening wide at the feeling of an object hitting the back of your head. A painful grunt escaped your lips, your fingers fumbling around the pillow only to find a purple stuffed dragon.

« Mom! », you heard your daughter’s loud groan as she shut the door behind her. You smiled at the sound of her little high-pitched angry voice. The room filled immediately with the energy of your six-year-old child, Zoe.

« Good morning, sweety, come here, » you motioned with your hand. She walked towards you and stood beside your bed, her lips pressed shut and her arms wrapped around her waist, amber eyes glaring at you.

« Good morning, » she said with a frown. The light slipped through the window and landed on top of her hair making it look golden like bleached buttercups. « Why are you still sleeping? Don’t you know what day it is? »

« Of course, we do, baby, » you turned around balancing on your elbows.

« Then why are you still sleeping? », she whined.

« We were just waking up, » you leaned to kiss her forehead while pulling behind her ears pieces of unruly hair. She still had her baby smell; warm summer skin, clean cotton, sugared milk. Her freshly washed hair made your whole room radiate chamomile, honey, and olives. She had definitely woken up in a mood but how could you be mad at her adorable face, her pouted lips, and her small nose that had Timothée’s little bump on it?

« But you are not waking up, » Zoe continued. « Daddy’s still sleeping! » You rubbed your eyes and covered your mouth to yawn before bringing forward her little stuffed animal.

« Why did you throw me on mom’s head, Zoe? », you changed your voice pretending it was the animal speaking. It was a game you had developed since she was a little kid and for some reason, it always made her happy. 

« It’s Marc’s birthday and they’re still in bed, Spike, » she replied. You clenched your jaw to hold your laughter. She was so cute and precious for this world. You just wanted to take her into a long hug, and never let her go.

« I think that if you give mommy a kiss and a hug she will fully wake up, » you added, a small smile growing on your face. Zoe stood on her tippy toes, pecked your lips, and gave you a quick hug. « That wasn’t a hug. »

« Oh! », she groaned in annoyance and then fell on you hugging you tightly with her small arms. You grinned and kissed her forehead again multiple times.

« Did Marc wake up? », you asked rubbing her cheek, her fingers hugging your wrist as she nuzzled her head in your palm.

« The birthday boy is still sleeping, » she mumbled. « No one is excited for today but me! » You laughed as your little girl tried to climb on top of the bed. « Dad, wake up! »

« Dad’s tired, baby, » you smiled at her warmly. « Let him sleep a few more minutes and then we'll go prepare the cake together, ‘kay? »

« No! », she cried and pulled the bed sheets to climb on top of the bed but failed miserably at her every attempt.

You gave her a hand to help her up. She struggled to move with her small feet getting tangled between the sheets until she finally stumbled and fell on the place between you and Timothée.

« Are you good baby? Did you hurt? », you rushed to ask her. She mumbled something but nodded.

« Dad, daddy! Wake up! », she sat on her knees shaking his shoulder. « Dad! » You fell back on your pillow and closed your eyes for a moment. It was Timothée’s turn. « No, mom, don’t fall asleep too! », she turned to you pulling your arm this time.

« I’m not sleeping, baby, » you chuckled at her. « Just resting my eyes for a second. »

« You always say that but then you end up sleeping, » Zoe furrowed her brows.

« Come here, » you opened your arms. « Let’s just rest our eyes for a few more minutes and then we’ll wake up daddy. »

« No! He has to wake up! », she cried and quickly climbed on top of Timothée’s chest. Tim’s first reaction before even opening his eyes was to smile. « Dad, » she softly touched his cheeks and leaned closer until their noses touched. « Get up! », she groaned lightly slapping his face a few times and then tried to pull his ear.

« Ah! », Timothée gasped, a painful expression painted on his face followed by a laugh. Zoe chuckled at the reaction she got until Tim started to tickle her belly making her collapse on top of him and burst into laughter.

« You tried to pull my ear? », he asked.

« No, no, » she said with difficulty between her giggles.

He then pulled her down, squeezing her into a tight hug, causing the girl to leave a small scream against his skin.

« Mom, help me! », she tented her hand to you with a grin. Timothée decided to let her free and turned his head to the side to face you. His face was pale, lips red and swollen, and the sleep was still hanging from his puffy eyes. You smiled at each other hearing your little girl’s giggles turning into uncontrollable laughter.

« Good morning, » Timothée whispered to her burring his head between fluffy curls and pressing his lips on her cheek.

« Morning, » she mumbled. Timothée held her hands as she sat on his stomach. 

« Baby, why are you up so early? », he asked then.

« It's Marc’s birthday! You forgot? »

« Who’s birthday? », Tim furrowed his brows.

« Dad! », Zoe cried. He laughed at her and then ruffled her hair.

« I’m just messing with you, my heart. »

« We don’t have time for jokes! », she widened her eyes and exchanged a look between you and Timothée.

« Careful, baby, » Timothée said giving her a hand as she jumped off the bed.

« Mom! Get up! Come on! », she shouted while running out of the room.

« Hey, careful with the running! », you shouted worriedly. Timothée chuckled as he nuzzled closer slipping his hand to your shoulder to get you into his arms.

« Careful with the running? », he left another small laugh. « What's next? Careful with the walking? »

« You want me to remind you what happened the last time she was running around the house? », you raised your eyebrows.

« You just exaggerate. You always do, » he pressed his lips at the edge of your mouth. « The floor was just wet and she slipped. » You lightly shook your head but Timothée smiled at your reaction. 

He held your gaze for a few moments before leaning his head to kiss you hard, his body slowly sliding on top of yours. You pushed him away making him fall to the side and release a heavy breath.

« Not now, » you laughed. « The kids are home. »

« Why do you have to be so dirty-minded? It was just a kiss, » he coked an eyebrow and pushed you playfully.

« Ah! », you gasped holding your shoulder. He beamed his eyes turning back to you.

« I love you so much. »

« Love you too, » you tilted your head to kiss his shoulder, your fingers kindly scratching his skin. He pulled back his hair and then rubbed his face with his palms as you kept staring at him, noticing the huge grin drawn on his face, caused by the thoughts he was having.

« I can’t believe it. Our little boy is nine. Nine! » You laughed, your fingers moving upper to pull his fallen curls behind his ear. His eyes moved at you.

« It’s crazy, » you bit your lips holding your smile. You shook your head lightly. « I still remember when they were tiny little babies and now... » Tim breathed out and then chuckled.

« Fuck they grow up so fast. » A smile grew on your lips as you gave him a last peck and stood up to move to the bathroom. « And before we know it they'll be off to college, » you heard Timothée’s voice.

« Don’t even want to think about it, » you murmured to yourself, cleaning your face and then brushing your teeth. Tim put on his shorts and followed you, balancing at the door with his bare shoulder, looking through his phone.

« My mom texted what time we’ll be there, » he said and then laughed. « She said that your mother has been up since five and she already started cooking. » You chuckled at his words. « I love your mom so much. She’s always so excited about our visits. »

« That’s because she loves the kids, » you said. « And you. » Tim moved closer wrapping his arms around you, his lips planting kisses from your neck, to your chin and your jaw, to your cheeks, your nose, your lips.

« I was thinking… », he said with a small smirk.

« Oh, » you muttered.

« Stop, » he bit your skin making you chuckle again. « I was thinking that maybe we could... you know, » he clenched his jaw, fingers slowly slipping between your hand. « Maybe we could have another baby. » Your lips separated not really sure how to respond. You didn't expect that. Your head turned back to look at his face balancing on top of your shoulder and locked eyes for a moment. He gulped and lowered his gaze to the sink. « No pressure, of course. I’m just throwing it on the table. I mean, I wouldn’t mind having another little creature running around the house when the floor is not wet. » You smiled warmly. « It’s really not a big deal, I just think we can do it - if you want it, of course. »

« Well, I really didn't expect that, » you left a laugh. « I need some time to think about it. »

« Sure, » he pecked your lips again and moved to the sink.

You waited for Timothée for a few moments before moving together to the kitchen. He pulled you back by your t-shirt causing you to laugh. His head leaned down pressing your cheek with his lips making you giggle.

You silently opened the door of your son’s bedroom and looked inside. There he was, a nine-year-old boy sleeping on a sunkissed bed. You couldn’t stop staring at him. He was a baby only a few years ago and now he was speaking, walking, going to school, playing basketball, and having friends.

« Our baby is nine, » Tim whispered to your ear. He pouted his lips. « I am so proud that we got ‘em. » You stayed silent staring at his figure spread across the bed, short curls of dark hair covering his face as small snores escaped his mouth. You got Timothée's hand on yours, intertwining your fingers, and pulled it up rubbing it lovingly. Your eyes moved up at him looking at the way he was gazing at your kid.

Timothée touched your back gesturing for you to follow him. In the kitchen, Zoe had already found her seat at the end of the counter, her color pencils spread around her, as she finished her painting.

« You are finishing your drawing, baby? », you asked as Tim got the video camera to see if it was charged.

« Mhm, » she nodded too absorbed. You leaned on your elbows next to her. « You like it, mommy? », she asked.

« Like it? I love it! Tell me more about your artwork, » you said truthfully.

« Girls, camera's on, » Timothée's voice was heard in the background and you motioned with your head for him to come and see Zoe's drawing.

« It’s me and Marc sitting at the beach, » she explained. You nodded eagerly and then pointed at the sky.

« Why is the sky purple? », you asked.

« It’s the sunset. »

« And that red circle it’s the sun? », you asked.

« Yes! », she grinned and hugged you tight. You messed her hair and then moved to the fridge to get out the cake and the frosting. Tim moved closer with the video camera in his hands.

« Can you tell us your name? », he sat in front of your girl.

« Em… my name is Zoe, » she mumbled her whole face heating up as she kept coloring the paper not making eye contact.

« Is it a special day today? », Tim asked.

« Yes! It's Marc’s birthday, » she smiled. « I’m finishing his drawing. That’s my gift for him. »

« Can you show the drawing to the camera? »

« Do you like it? », Zoe turned the drawing in Timothée’s direction.

« Wow! », he said making Zoe grin. « It's incredible, baby. We should frame it, » Timothée left the camera down.

« You think Marc’s going to like it? »

« Marc’s going to love it! », he kissed the top of her head wrapping his arms around her. « I noticed you put a lot of green. »

« That's because green is his favorite color. »

The conversation went on for quite a while, Zoe explaining to Timothée her artistic choices and him happily listening to everything she had to say and being a silly dad as always, while you were preparing the birthday cake writing ‘Happy Birthday Marc’ on top of it. Even though you were trying to be extremely concentrated not to ruin the cake you couldn’t help but laugh when you heard Zoe telling Tim that she didn’t want to be an artist, she wanted to be a swimmer or a « veterinariterian ».

Tim gave you a funny look of confusion to make sure you heard before turning back to your daughter. You raised your head to look at them.

« You mean veterinarian, baby? », he asked. She half-opened her mouth processing the word and then nodded.

« Ve-te-ri-na-te- »

« Veterinarian, » Tim repeated slower. « Come on you can do this. »

« Ve-te-ri-na-ri-an, » she tried to say it back.

« Yes, that’s it! »

« Veterinarian, » she nodded.

« You are doing so great, sweety, » you said. Timothée kissed her cheek and moved closer to you getting the dishes out of the way to the sink to wash them.

« I’m almost done here, » you let him know.

« Mom, can I eat the frosting? », Zoe asked.

« Baby, I don't think that’s a very healthy breakfast, » Tim replied instead of you.

« Dad, please, » she begged. « Mommy? »

« Dad’s right, Zo. »

« Please, please, please, please, » she begged you her hands tied together. « Just a spoon, please mommy. » You looked at Tim once but then gestured to her with your hand.

« Come on, get a spoon, » you smiled.

« Y/N, they are going to eat so much cake today that they’ll be sick tomorrow. »

« It’s just a spoon Timo, » you pulled his hair back, on your way to get your spoons.

« It’s a special day, dad, » Zoe murmured happily. 

« Okay then, I want some frosting too, » he mumbled taking the spoon off your hands.

« You shouldn’t eat because you’re going to eat so much cake today- », you started saying before he squeezed your waist making you jump away and leave a laugh. 

« Come on finish your sentence, » he laughed before squeezing you again.

« You need to stop this, » you widened your eyes a smile plastered on your lips as you held your arms forward to defend yourself. Zoe couldn’t stop laughing watching Timmy tying tightly his arms around you and pressing kisses on your lips.

There was this routine you followed on your children's birthday. You were waking up early, finishing the cake you had already spent hours preparing the previous night, and then waking up the kids with the song.

« Can I put the candles? », Zoe asked.

« Sure, baby, » you said looking at the way she carefully placed nine candles on top of it in a circle.

« I’m getting the lighter. I’m getting the lighter, » Tim repeated excitedly as you took the cake in your hands and moved to the door of your son’s bedroom with Zoe’s small feet following you, drawing in her hands and a grin that reached her ears. « Okay, » Timothée said out of breath.

After lighting the candles he slowly opened the door. Your boy was still on his bed sleeping. Timothée mouthed ‘one, two, three’ and then you all started singing to him in unison. You noticed how his hazel green eyes opened wide raising him from his sleep and then a small grin appeared at the edge of his mouth.

« Happy Birthday to You // Happy Birthday to You // Happy Birthday Dear Marc //Happy Birthday to You… », you sang all together. He quickly stood up on his feet and blew off the candles.

« Happy birthday, » Zoe left a small childish scream as she fell into his arms pushing both of them back to the bed. They hugged each other tightly and kissed the other’s cheeks.

Timothée crouched in front of him to reach his height holding his knees with a huge smile. He gently pushed the hair behind his ears, one hand resting on his cheek.

« Okay, » the words came out like a whisper. « You are one of the best things that ever happened to me and I am so grateful for having you, » he pressed his lips on his cheek and took him in a long hug. « I want you to know that I love you and I am so proud of the person you are becoming. »

« You are proud? », Marc held his wrist to look him in the eyes. Timothée chucked and leaned down until their foreheads touched.

« Of course I am, and you should be too. Happy birthday, Mars, » he ruffled his hair standing up.

« Ah, dad! », the boy gasped only for Tim to ruffle his hair again and press a kiss on the top of his head.

« I’ll take this, » Timothée kissed you on the lips and took the cake off your hands. « Baby, you’ll come and help? », he asked Zoe who rushed to follow.

You pulled out your lower lip looking at your son who lightly shook his head knowing what was going to follow.

« Happy birthday, » you took him into a hug, arms tightly wrapped around him as you pressed your sealed lips not to get emotional. « Can’t believe you are nine. Nine! Oh my God! »

« Come on, mom, » he patted your back. You smiled and pulled away letting him breathe.

« I love you so so much. »

« I know, you tell me every day, » Marc mumbled.

« Yes, and I will never stop saying that to you because no matter how old you grow, you will always be my sweet little boy whom I used to be so protective of and always will be in the future. »

[bellewintersroe]

Carlos Sainz x CelebEx! Reader 18+.

Carlos’ ex, world famous model, actress and, much loved F1 presenter, Lila Maynard bumps into him during the Italian GP and she confronts him about his hypocrisy 🙄🙄 (arguments and ensue and we see how Carlos most definitely makes it up to Lila).

what do you all think of Isa’s tik toks? I’m living for her liking all the shady comments, she’s a queen.

“Tanti auguri a te, tanti auguri a te!” I winced in confusion, recognising the tune of ‘Happy birthday’ being chimed out in Italian. September 1st, there was only one person I knew celebrated on that day and that was my ex boyfriend of six months, Carlos Sainz. Fuck. “Tanti auguri a Carlos, tanti auguri a te!”

“Hip, hip hooray.” I sarcastically muttered to myself, keeping my head down and walking out of the hotel, a wall separating the Carlos frenzy crowd and I. Thank god, my stomach churned just at the thought of catching sight of my ex boyfriend. We had been separated for almost six months, and not spoken in five. Despite working on the grid, interviewing drivers I was strictly able to avoid the Ferrari garages, occasionally I’d go speak with Charles, but it was difficult seeing as Carlos was always nearby, watching me with these puppy eyes that made me want to gauge my eyes out. You see, Carlos seemed to move on pretty quickly with a beautiful model, our two year relationship clearly meaning nothing more than one month to him. Four weeks. That’s all it took, it sickened me to the core. I still had an internalised anger directed towards him, but it was squashed when I stepped out from behind the wall and was suddenly face to face with an innocent looking Carlos.

Hooray…

My breath hitched and out of pure panic, I began with a breathless; “happy-” but I was cut off when a beautiful, tall brunette appeared by Carlos’ side. Carlos looked stunned, mouth open as his eyes were wide staring at me. The girl looked me up and down before staring right back to the Spanish man. She hooked her arm around his protectively. My jaw fell slightly agape and I nudged my chin up in acknowledgement. “-Birthday.” The words fell flat, as did the harsh pounding of my heart. It dropped all the way to the bottom of my stomach as I turned away in a revolted shock.

I strode straight past him, plastering the most fake smile over my face as I waved to people yelling out my name. As soon as I climbed in the back of the car I was a trembling mess. Jesus fucking Christ, that couldn’t have been more awkward. I felt the tears well up as I stared directly down to my cream pants, the camera flashes from out the window capturing me in the most vulnerable moment as I attempted to shield my face, swiping at the tears. Hours later, the images were sprawled all across social media. Images of my head down, tears stained down my cheeks, images of me directly across from Carlos, stood face to face with him and the girl pinned as his new ‘lover’. It wasn’t the same girl as I’d seen all over tik tok, Instagram and Twitter all those months ago. Still, it bothered me. Really bad. It seemed social media was having a frenzy over the cringe worthy interaction, people were trolling Carlos saying it was his ‘birthday canon event’ to bump into me. I truly had no desire to head out that evening, but I knew wallowing in a hotel room on a Friday night would do me no good, so I was two glasses of wine down with three of my friends when I heard a very familiar tune. “Tanti auguri a te…” I groaned, dropping my head onto my arm, rested on the table below. “End my fucking life. Now.” I muttered.

“Oh, Lila.” Taylor sighed, twisting a strand of my hair. Listening to what seemed to be the whole bar singing happy birthday to my ex boyfriend was the final straw for me, I took off early. But not before I took one final trip to the toilet.

On my way out, I audibly sighed at the heavy feeling lingering over my chest. When would this ever end? I pushed my lipgloss and phone back into my bag as I stepped out from around the corner. I wasn’t looking where I was going and bumped directly into another body.

“Oh, fuck!” I blinked a few times, stepping back. “I’m so sorry-” my apology fell flat when I looked up and caught sight of the stranger- stranger.

“I- wanted to talk to you…” two pairs of familiar hands were on my shoulders, easing me as my stomach filled with nerves instantaneously. It was Carlos. He must’ve heard the way my breath hitched, his hands slowly dropping as we just stared back to one another.

“Talk to me?” I swallowed, “in the girls bathroom?”

“Actually… here is fine, Lila.” My eyes fluttered shut as I pitched the bridge of my nose momentarily. “I- look, happy birthday and well done in practice and all, but- I-I really don’t want to do this Carlos.” I admitted as he swallowed harshly. The first thing that gave away he was nervous.

“I just wanted to say sorry from earlier.” The Spanish man muttered. I avoided looking at him, if I stared for too long I’d fall in love or a deep hatred all over again for him. Maybe both. I didn’t want to know how his hair was longer, or his smile didn’t blossom so big anymore- the small details like scars, freckles, things that would all come back to me if I looked at him a little too long.

“Why? What-what about earlier?” I stammered.

“I saw you upset. I don’t want to make you upset.” My jaw tensed as I stared down to the floor below. “I- can you look at me?” He attempted to reach forwards, but I took a whole step back.

“No.”

“No?”

“No, Carlos. I can’t.” I responded firmly. “You can’t look at me?” He sounded hurt now, exactly how I’d been feeling all day. For the past six months in fact. Maybe I was being irrational, but it didn’t bother me to care, I felt so humiliated and betrayed by this man, worst of all I still loved him. If I looked back at him I know I’d break down.

“Please.” He lowered his voice, stepping ever so slightly forwards as I felt my eyes prick, my teeth grinding down on a certain point of my cheek to prevent any from falling. “Let me explain, Lila, everything.” His voice was on edge, cracking with each word. There went the tears. I blinked up, rolling my eyes at my pathetic ability to hold any tears away. I wiped at the one that fell quickly. He looked taken back, saddened, just as he was about to reach forwards to console me, I thought, fuck it, what’s the point in holding back now? “Explain what? How you moved on after four fucking weeks Carlos? Or-or why you’re talking to me when your fucking girlfriend is sat in there.” My hand gestured as I spoke harshly. I stared directly back to him, he was shaking his head in rejection of my words and it fired me up almost instantly. “No-”

“Oh, don’t even try to deny it. I saw everything, all the models, all the yachts, were you spiteful of me?? For making the decision to end something that wasn’t fucking leading anywhere?” Maybe that wasn’t so correct, but in my blinded rage I didn’t care, I wanted my words to be as harsh as possible. I wanted to cause maximum disruption the way he’d caused me. Maybe that was the wine talking… or maybe it wasn’t… “No, no.” He shook his head, the frustration growing on his face. “We are not doing this here, bebé.” The accidental pet name flew a dagger directly into my chest, twisting and snagging on my heart the longer I stared back to him.

“I’m not your-” I cut myself off seeing another, oddly familiar face walking around the corner. I was sure she was extremely familiar to Carlos too.

“Carlos… what’s going on?” The English girl questioned, she eyed back to me and in that moment I felt uncomfortably sorrowful for her. She hadn’t exactly done anything wrong.

“I’m just… sorting some things out, I’m sorry, you should go.” He muttered as I cringed for the girl, my stomach churning at the rejection. Although it was deep down what I wanted, that was an extremely spiteful thought of me.

“Okay.” She awkwardly spoke, eyeing me up once more. “I am sorry.” Carlos muttered. “Um… it’s fine.” The poor girl paused for a couple more seconds, obviously contemplating what the hell had just happened. I could only stare at the wall in complete awkwardness, questioning how this could possibly get any worse? Part of me just wanted to walk away, the other part of me physically and emotionally couldn’t. Carlos let out a deep sigh once she’s headed around the corner, away from the two of us. “I had only met her twice.” He spoke, much calmer now. “That was mean.” “I know..” he quietly spoke as a silence took over us when a few more people walked past to go into the toilets.

“Was that who I thought it was?” One girl muttered to her friend, her voice echoing down the hallway. “Should we ask for a picture?”

“Lila, please. Can we go somewhere quieter.” Carlos asked at the perfect time. Hearing the girls turning around I or back up to him, desperate to avoid the eyes of onlooker that could spread dreaded tales around social media. Carlos took me to an empty room upstairs, nobody was there, no staff, nothing. He locked the huge wooden door behind us both as I awkwardly lingered by a table. It must’ve been some kind of function room, a small one that wasn’t in use. I was positive we weren’t allowed up here, but from the looks of things, nobody noticed, and the cameras were all pulled from their hinges, hanging off wires sadly. “I had only met her twice.” Carlos repeated his words from downstairs. I leant back on a table as he stood in front of me, pacing slightly. “And your girlfriend on the yacht?” I stared to the ground below. You could feel the vibrations from the music, and as the clock was striking 9 I slowly lost any desire to be in here.

“Not my girlfriend.” He shook his head. “I needed a- distraction.” He fumbled over his English slightly as my heart swelled. I dragged my nails slightly over the skin in a bid to rid the warm feeling.

“Estaba enojado.” (I was angry). His voice sounded more deflated as he stood still, picking the wood of the table below. “Why?” My voice borderline whispered. “Because…” he began in English again but his voice came to an abrupt stop. “Porque pensé que ya no me amabas.” (Because I thought you did not love me anymore).

It took me a couple seconds to piece the Spanish together. “What does that-” I froze, head tilting up to him. “You didn’t think I loved you anymore?”

Carlos shook his head, tensing his jaw as he stared down to the table below. “So-so you wanted to back at me?” My voice lowered, the anger sizzling out of my body. The thought of him believing I didn’t love him hurt. It made me feel sorrowful, remorseful, and for the first time, understanding of why he did what he did.

Carlos now nodded with a yes and I pushed myself to stand up straighter, so we were a little closer. “I always loved you. I still do.” I watched his movements stop at my admission.

“That’s why it just hurt so bad to- to see them in my place after four weeks.”

“It was 3.” He then commented as I froze again. “3 weeks. If we are being honest.”

A dizziness ran through me, a sickness like no other as I stared back to him now, bottom lip trembling.

“Me convierte en una mala persona.” “Stop with the Spanish, I don’t understand.” My voice trembled as his head snapped up. He always spoke Spanish as a safety barrier, so I couldn’t exactly always tell what he was opening up about, especially when he was nervous. “It makes me a bad person, Lila.” He reached out, smoothing a hand over my cheek. I shook my head as a ‘no’ but he had already began nodding. “Yes.”

I nudged his hand away, my head dropping as I let out as light sob. “No, no, no.” He panicked, “ven aquí.” (Come here). Carlos pulled me into his chest as I attempted to hold back the cries I wanted so desperately to let out.

“No, no, no.” He muttered again, rubbing up and down my bare arm as I took a deep breath, wiping under my eyes carefully. “They didn’t come close.” Carlos then spoke. “They didn’t come close to you. I love you, and always you.” His words festered something deep inside of me, a feeling that I couldn’t control. It was the exact same warmth and comfort I felt around him, the way our soul’s felt connected- it was an irreplaceable feeling to say the least.

“Carlos.” I whispered, turning up as he began using his thumbs to swipe away my tears. “I hate you.” I whispered, the words lacking any sense or meaning as he sadly smiled, running a hand down my hair. “I know.”

“I really hate you.” I pathetically spoke, both his hands holding either side of my face. He looked mesmerised, strands of hair was brushed over my face, his mouth was agape as we both stepped closer.

“I know.” Carlos muttered even quieter, his head dropping as my eyes fell onto his lips. On my toes, I met him half way. I love you… I didn’t know what was happening in that moment, but it was like we automatically met half way, our lips landing on one another’s in a hungry kiss. Our teeth clashed dramatically, body’s bouncing against the tables and chairs behind us, all without breaking apart the kiss.

My hands pulled him closer, desperate to feel him, all of him. One of his hands firmly held the back of my head, the other pulled my waist into his, forcing our bodies tightly together. A desperation inside me mixed with how heated the kiss was had my hands flying towards his belt. “Please. Carlos, please.” I whispered, giving into all attempts of putting a barrier up. I needed him, and he needed me. He let out a slight moan of agreement, refusing to the break the kiss.

I began undoing his belt swiftly, feeling his hands tug up on the short dress I wore as he fell to his knees. My hands disconnected from his belt and held onto the table behind me for stability. My breathing was heavy and laboured, and I couldn’t even think straight as he yanked my underwear down, not even getting them fully off my legs before his mouth attached to my pussy.

“Oh- fuck.” I gasped, eyes rolling back at the pleasurable sensation. His tongue was warm and wet against my core, his fingers tightened around my hips, yanking them up onto the table once he’d freed me from my underwear. I didn’t bother being quiet, the music downstairs would drown out my moans, and I was pretty sure nobody would venture up here anyway.

“Carlos.” I gasped, my fingers tugging on the ends of his long hair, the familiarity driving me insane as I dropped my head back, riding his mouth as he slurped and licked, groaning against my pussy as he pushed his mouth deeper, sucking and nipping.

I let out a cry of pleasure, tugging harshly at his locks until he let out a moan at the pain, breaking apart. He stared at me for a second, a look of complete shock in his eyes. There was a second just of our heavy breathing before he moved back in, pushing my thighs further apart, biting at my flesh, kissing and licking.

“Please.” I begged for nothing in particular. “Please, please.” My head fell up to the wooden roof, my voice barely above a whisper. I felt him move up, the sound of his belt fully unbuckling stirred me again, Carlos tucked his hand, engulfing the back of my head and pushing his forehead against my own.

“Nadie comparado contigo.” (Nobody compared to you). I moaned at the familiarity of his words, feeling the tip of his cock push against my entrance.

“Te amo. te amo.” (I love you. I love you). Carlos filled me up, wiping at the tear stains on my cheeks, lips pressed against to my forehead as his hot breath fanned against my skin. I shuddered at the fullness he made me feel, fingers snatching at the smooth of his shirt, bunching it up as it untucked from his pants below. I kissed him tenderly, feeling the thrusts of his hips begin. Carlos moved closer, nudging his face up against the side of mine, lips brushing against the shell of my ear. With each moan and breath he took, it heightened my own pleasure.

Our breaths and pants mixed together, the table squeaked and scraped on the floor below, Carlos slammed a hand down, groaning as he bit into my shoulder, pushing down the spaghetti straps as I freed my breasts, allowing him to grab a handful. His eyes roamed over my face, my eyes, lips, breasts, where he fucked into me, he was beginning to sweat, moving constantly between kissing me and pulling back to thrust into me faster, harder. I was in intense bliss, my pussy tightened and clenched constantly, with each tension Carlos would groan, gripping onto my arm tighter as he fucked harder into me.

“Fuck me, Carlos- oh my- god!” I whined, hearing him moan properly, his legs hitting against the table causing it to screech harder against the floor. We were loud, animalistic, soon enough, Carlos had spun me around and fucked into me from behind as I grasped onto the table for support.

The press of his cock constantly slamming against my g spot made me yell out in pleasure, breathing harshly. “Quiero que te corras para mi.” He dirty talked, arching over my body to press against my own. His fingers slotted under me, rubbing over my aching clit as I bucked my hips wildly back into his.

“Please, please, Lila.” He begged as I choked out a moan, my eyes screwing tightly shut. He was fucking harshly into me, skin slapping against my own as one of his hand trembled against my shoulder, gripping my harshly. Something about his begs and groans had the knot in my stomach tightening harsher than ever. His fingers worked against my clit, faster and faster as I gasped out loud.

“Oh fuck- Carlos-” I borderline slurred, crying out as I dropped a hand over his fingers, feeling one of his curling over mine. My legs were shaking and I felt paralysed with tension as it took one more thrust before I was tipping over the edge, crying and moaning out, gasping and pleading his name as I came undone, my orgasm paralysing my whole body. My pussy throbbed, his thrusts continuing as Carlos’ groaned became louder. “Cum inside me, I want you inside of me.” I choked out, coming down from my overwhelming orgasm. Carlos’ hand slapped against my ass, gripping me closer as he slammed his hips into mine before letting out a loud growl and unloading his seed inside of me. High on his orgasm, Carlos fell on top of me, panting and moaning as he slowly bucked his hips through the pleasure. I was a gasping, sweating mess, my eyes closed as I rested on my hand which was flat to the table, letting out one last coo of a moan feeling Carlos’ lips press to my upper back.

We remained in that position for a few more moments before my legs began to tremble with the ache of half kneeling on the table, the other supporting me with the tip of my toe touching the floor. My heel had falling off during the love making, so when I stepped down I fell straight onto the cold of my feet. Carlos shifted, lifting his body off me as I turned around, standing up as I brushed my hair down. I couldn’t believe what had just happened, there was an element of shock to the whole situation, it all happened so fast. I bit down on my lip, watching him tug his boxers back over himself and his jeans back up, zipping and doing the button. He paused before he did his belt, glancing back up to me. Carlos reached out, smoothing my hair down on one side with a soft smile. I offered one back, pulling my dress straps back over my shoulders.

Carlos’s eyes dropped to my ribcage before I covered myself with my dress. “New tattoo?” He poked at the skin, “Mmmh. A couple months ago.” I shyly spoke, giggling when he eyed up my breasts slightly.

“Don’t.” I quietly spoke, but it didn’t have much authority behind it. “I have seen it all before.” He turned his head away when I asked him to, fastening his belt.

“Still.” My lips were crooked as I awkwardly searched for my underwear, feeling his seed spill out of me as I grimaced. “Here.” Carlos smiled, handed me the black fabric over, holding it out on his palm when he retrieved it from the floor. Embarrassed, I swiped it from his hold, pulling them on quickly as they caught the liquid that was beginning to seep out of me. I cringed, uncomfortable with the sensation as Carlos let out a small laugh, tucking his shirt back into his pants.

I glanced up, smiling shyly before looking around the room a little awkwardly. “¿Estás bien?” (Are you okay?). “Sí.” I giggled as he let out a closed mouth exhale of laughter, buttoning up his shirt which had popped open previously.

“Are you?”

“Sí.” He nodded, sighing and glancing back to me. “I don’t really hate you.” I muttered after glancing over his face. Carlos hummed in laughter in response, reaching out and swiping his thumbs under my eye. The gentle movement made my heart flutter as I couldn’t help but properly gaze over his face, disbelief setting in as I watched back to my ex boyfriend.

“I don’t.” I shrugged, feeling swipe what must’ve been fallen mascara. His hand rested on my cheek, moving in to kiss me softly as I felt myself swooning even harder. “Will you come with me tomorrow- ah with me to qualifying?” The Spanish man asked.

I felt my chest tighten, I reached out to soften the crease in his white shirt. “You want me to?”

“I want you to.” Carlos seriously nodded as I nodded. “Okay.” I whispered. He smiled again, taking me by the hand and easing me forwards, unlocking the door we locked. We didn’t really acknowledge the fact we’d just fucked like rabbits in such a public area, the two of us escaped the bar, giggling and ignoring the paparazzi. “You come out here with one girl and leave with another.” I kicked his foot, resting my hand over his thigh.

“Don’t say that.” He very quickly spoke, clearly looking a little awkward as we shared a laugh. I leant forwards, kissing his cheek. “Happy birthday, Carlos….”

The whole ‘ex boyfriend’ didn’t last too much longer after that, it was clear to say hooking up in a run down, attic bar magically solved something between Carlos and I…

[rhoorl]

Delta Landscaping | Chapter 2

The Neighborhood Watch Begins

Series Summary: In this AU, the boys of Delta Force start a new business post-Colombia. 

Series Masterlist

Rating: Explicit (18+) - not right away, but putting this here as a blanket rating 

Word Count: 3.7k

Chapter Warnings: Two of the characters we meet in this chapter are widows, and there is a brief mention of how both of their husbands passed. 

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love and amazing feedback on Chapter 1! It seriously tickles me that there are others who find this universe as hilarious and fun as I do. 

Although the Triple Frontier boys are the stars of the show, I wanted to explore some of their neighbors’ stories as well. Who knows, maybe some of these characters may play a larger role down the line. One of the neighbors we meet in this chapter, Lucille, is particularly dear to me because she is loosely based on my late abuela. 

Finally, one last thing before this chapter – we go slightly back in time from where we ended Chapter 1. This chapter starts a few weeks after Will and Benny move in. Ok, I’m done rambling now … back to Torrey Hills and the shenanigans of Mulefall Court. *cue the Real Housewives music bump*

“¡Mierda! I have more cilantro than I know what to do with,” Lucille says to herself as she grabs some cilantro from her herb garden. “Ay, Julio, I think I’m going to make the boys some food today. Sweet Francisco liked the frijoles I brought over last week and if I have time, I can make some empanadas. Benny practically inhaled them the last time I took them over,” Lucille chuckles to herself. 

She had gotten better about not talking to Julio, it had been a year and a half since he passed, but every once in a while she would still talk to him like he was right there next to her.

Lucille and Julio Alvarez were one of the first residents to move to Torrey Hills back in the 90s. The pair saw every neighbor come and go from the block. Julio was the unofficial mayor of Mulefall Court, always inviting neighbors over to his house for get-togethers. And Lucille was the perfect hostess – the life of the party, who could carry a conversation with anyone with anyone, dance, and still manage to find enough time to put together a spread worthy of a Food Network cooking show.

Although they never had children of their own, the couple loved kids and quickly became pseudo-grandparents to the children on the block, including Megan’s son Connor. 

Megan and her late husband Jacob moved to Torrey Hills when Connor was four. From the outside, they seemed like a perfect family – young, successful, good-looking, and happy. 

Then, Megan’s life was drastically turned upside down one Saturday in January. Jacob went cycling early in the morning, a light mist resting above the ground. It was a weekend routine of his, to go for an early ride before he and Megan would take Connor somewhere fun like the zoo or aquarium.

Unfortunately, he did not make it home that morning. A distracted driver collided with him and he was pronounced dead at the scene. Suddenly, Megan found herself thrust into life as a single mother, trying to piece her life together while continuing to raise her son.

Lucille and Julio helped however they could – babysitting Connor when Megan had to unexpectedly work late or finding an excuse to take him on an adventure to the park or ice cream shop, any way to get him out of the house so Megan had some time to herself. 

As Connor grew up, Lucille and Julio were right there. Julio, a former professional baseball player, was the one who taught Connor how to throw a baseball. He tried to influence the boy’s athletic endeavors and supported him in whatever he wanted to do, even though it did break his heart a little when Connor developed an obsession with basketball.

They celebrated birthdays, took day trips to Disney World, and Lucille and Julio were there the day Megan surprised Connor with the dog he had always dreamed of, a corgi he named Bucky after his favorite Marvel character.

The kindness, care, and compassion Lucille extended to Megan was reciprocated nearly a decade to the day after Jacob's death. After a quiet battle with cancer, Julio passed away peacefully with Lucille at his side. It was the first time in 50 years that Lucille had been away from Julio for more than a couple of days. 

The couple grew up down the street from each other in Cuba, their families were longtime friends. They both immigrated around the same time, but lost contact. Julio came to the United States by himself ahead of his mother and spent a few years in Sacramento, while Lucille and her family went to Miami. After his mother finally came to the United States, Julio made the trip out to meet her in Miami. It didn’t take long for Julio and Lucille to find each other again and once Lucille turned 18, they decided to get married.

Megan and Connor stepped up for her while they were both mourning as well. They visited Lucille throughout the week, sometimes just to stop by to say hi, other times stopping by to cook a meal together, play board games, or watch the Game Show Network, Lucille always loved Family Feud. 

Connor placed a lot of pressure on himself to not only be the man of his own home, but Lucille’s as well. Over the years, Julio tried to teach Connor how to do minor home repairs, to varying degrees of success. Without Julio, Connor took to YouTube and TikTok to not only learn how to fix things but also come up with little fun projects he could do to bring a smile to Lucille’s face, or Lulu as he called her. He taught himself how to make a planter box for her herbs as a surprise and tried his hand at mending her fence following a tropical storm.

Lucille and Megan went through a lot over the past 12 years experiencing a range of emotions from heartbreak to pure happiness. Also, over that time, the duo became the defacto neighborhood welcoming committee. Although they weren’t super close with every single one of their neighbors, they tried to extend some semblance of hospitality to everyone who moved in – including to the two handsome men who moved directly next door to Lucille. 

Will and Benny were quick to befriend Lucille after she greeted them one day with a tray of lemonade and cookies as they were out working on their front lawn with their two equally handsome friends in tow. She found the boys were courteous neighbors, always asking if she needed help around the house. 

Although she didn’t want all of the fuss, she would humor them by having them fix small things for her like changing a lightbulb or fixing a leak in her bathroom. She was careful to not give them too many jobs, keeping small tasks aside for her favorite neighbor and frequent visitor, Connor.

But, she was in awe at the complete transformation of 319 Mulefall Court from its sad, dilapidated look to a pristine, beautiful home any HGTV show would love to feature. And as much as she loved Connor, the boy oftentimes caused more problems than he fixed. So, when she was sitting on her front porch reading a book, she stopped Benny on his way home after a jog. 

“Hola Ms. Lucille,” Benny waved to his neighbor. He had taken his shirt off during his run, tucking it into the waistband of his athletic shorts, so he quickly slipped it back on as he made his way up her driveway.

“I speak English, Benjamin,” Lucille snorted. She liked to tease him about speaking Spanish, but she was actually quite impressed with how much Spanish Benny actually understood. When she would kid with Francisco and Santiago, she found Benny laughing along with them, following the conversation. He definitely knew more than he let on, but was always a bit apprehensive about trying to speak, especially around his friends.

“Sorry, I have to practice when I can. I just … I feel like I’ve learned more living next to you these last few weeks than all the years I’ve known Fish and Pope,” he laughed nervously as he took off his hat and ruffled his hair.

“I’m just playing with you, mi cielo. Besides, those two probably just taught you all of the bad words,” she winked.

“You’re not wrong there,” he smiled. “Hey, when I was in the back yesterday I noticed another part of your fence that looks like it may need some mending. Want me to come over sometime this week?”

“Oh you don’t have to bother with all of that, it’s fine,” she waved him off. 

“C’mon, I can’t just sit there and let you have a hole in your fence. Just, let me fix it.” He leaned against the railing on her porch.

She couldn’t resist the puppy dog eyes he was giving her. She had to give it to him, he was a charmer.

“Ok, but on one condition,” she raised her eyebrow as he nodded. “You have to have Connor help you. The boy could stand to have some nice young men to look up to and learn a thing or two from.”

Benny blushed. He didn’t feel like he was a person anyone should ever look up to, not with his past and the things he had done and seen. He didn’t quite know how to respond to Lucille.

She sensed a darkness flicker over the man in front of her. Although she had only known Benny for a couple of weeks, she always saw him as a happy-go-lucky, energetic, yet sweet and considerate man. But seeing how he reacted to her comment, she knew there was something that troubled him.

“Besides,” she decided to cut the awkward silence. “He spends too much time with me, and as hip as I am, I can’t quite relate to him all of the time anymore. It was easier when he was younger.”

“I gotcha, Ms. Lucille. I’ll talk to Megan about getting Connor over here with us and we’ll all fix the fence as…um…un equipo,” he smiled. 

_______________________

The next morning on her walk with Bucky, Megan spotted Benny in the garage cleaning the lawn mower. 

"Careful or we may all end up hiring you to do our lawns too!" She called over to him with a wink.

He was crouched down facing away from her, a wet patch forming on the small of his back from the sweat. He stopped what he was doing and turned around to see who was talking. Seeing it was Megan (and Bucky), he quickly got up, wiped his hands on a towel, and walked to the front of the driveway.

"Oh hey Mrs. Me- I mean, hey Megan! Ha, I figure you all already have people to do that."

“By people, you mean a 16-year-old who I pay in pizza rolls and video games,” she laughed. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I like what you've done with the place, the flowers are really pretty."

Benny was proud of the work he and the boys had done, so any excuse to hear compliments made him grin from ear to ear.

"Thanks, it's been a fun…distraction. I like having projects, I’m actually going to help Ms. Lucille this week and fix her fence with the boys. Do you think that’s something Connor may want to help with? I heard he’s kinda handy. I don’t want to creep in on his territory…”

"Uh oh, are you going to make me the one to tell him there is some hot new competition on the block doing home repairs!"

Benny blushed and took his hat off briefly to comb through his hair before putting it back on.

“I think it’s nice that you want to help Lucille. God love him, but Connor tries to help but he isn’t as … skilled as you guys. He’s had to learn everything by himself.”

“I’m happy to teach him – I’m not a professional by any means, I leave that to my cousins,” Benny cracked a smile. “But I know my way around some tools, enough to be handy.”

“Yea, I think he’d like that. Since Julio passed, Connor doesn’t really have too many men to talk to besides his coach. I think he’d like to … I don’t know, talk with you guys? No pressure or anything, I’m not looking to impose.”

Benny smiled, knowing there was a lot left unsaid. He hadn’t asked too much about either Megan or Ms. Lucille’s past, he just knew both women were widows. But he knew even less about Connor. From what he had seen, he seemed like a good kid, he clearly was if Megan raised him.

“Cool, well maybe between him and the guys and me we can get it done faster so he can go back to playing video games or whatever the hell else kids do these days,” he chuckled. “I’ll text you when we figure out which day we’re going to do it, we’ll probably need to make a Home Depot run or something so maybe he can come with us for that too?”

"Awesome, hey thanks. I think he’ll find it fun," she smiled back at him and turned to continue her walk.

"Wait!" He called, wanting to catch her before she walked away.

"I have something for Bucky, hold up."

He jogged back to the opened garage to a container marked "treats" and pulled out a Milkbone bar.

"This ok to give him?" He showed Megan the treat as Bucky perked up, his little legs going tippy tap on the pavement.

"Oh shit, now he's going to make a beeline here every walk," she sighed.

___________________________

Later that day, Megan and Connor came over to visit Lucille after she called saying she had some leftover empanadas, one of Connor’s weaknesses. As the duo walked towards Lucille’s, Megan took stock of the cars parked in the 319 Mulefall Court driveway, thanks in part to Connor who helped her identify the makes and models: a red Jeep Wrangler, a black TransAm, a green Colorado truck, and a white Volvo C70 convertible.

“Looks like it’s a full house over there, wonder if they’re having a party,” Megan nodded toward the driveway. “Speaking of, I was talking to Benny, he asked if maybe you wanted to go over and help the guys with a project at Lulu’s this week.”

“What project? She hasn’t told me anything needed to be fixed,” Connor looked confused.

“Oh, he mentioned it was something about her fence – I guess he can see it from his backyard. Could be fun for you to have some help? Could learn something…” 

Megan hadn’t had a chance to broach the subject with her son and she was a little unsure how he would react.

Connor took a second before responding. “Y-yea, I mean. If they don’t mind.”

“Oh no, it was Benny’s idea!”

“Uh, ok. Yea, that’s cool.”

Megan smiled to herself, seeing her son walk with a little more pep in his step at the idea that the four older guys wanted to maybe spend time with him.

As they walked into Lucille’s house, they smelled more than just leftover empanadas. Megan rolled her eyes. She should have known better. Rather than just “a few of leftover empanadas” Lucille had made a whole spread.

“Wow, it smells amazing in here, Lulu!”

Lucille came from around the corner, wiping her hands on her apron with a big grin on her face. 

“I just whipped up a few things, it’s simmering, and should be done soon. Ven mijito,” she motioned to Connor to sit down as she grabbed a plate. “I made empanadas de picadillo, you’re favorite.”

“Yes!” Connor eagerly sat at the table, as Lucille put the plate in front of him. 

“Megan dear, would you mind coming upstairs with me? I’m sorting through some old jewelry and I was wondering if you wanted anything.” 

“Uh, sure...” she knew Lucille was up to something because Megan hardly wore jewelry.

The two ladies made their way up the stairs and into Lucille’s bedroom, straight towards the two large windows that formed the corner of her room.

“Do you keep your jewelry in the window frames?” Megan snorted. She really had no idea what Lucille was up to.

“No tonta, something better is over here,” she motioned out of the window.

Walking over to the windows, Megan saw a perfectly unobstructed view into the next-door neighbor’s backyard where four men were relaxing and enjoying a chill pool day. She quickly scanned to see what they all were up to.

Frankie was by the grill, beer in hand. He opened the grill to flip some of the burgers and skewers, taking his signature hat off to wipe the sweat from his forehead. It didn’t look like he had gotten in the pool yet. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt with blue and green striped swim trunks and some flip flops. He was bobbing his head to the music playing from the bluetooth speakers perched on the porch.

Santiago was laying on a pool float in black swim trunks, a little shorter in length than Frankie’s. He had his sunglasses on so it was hard to tell if he was taking a nap or not, but he had one arm folded behind his head and the other one resting on his stomach.

The Miller brothers were throwing a football around in the yard. Will, dressed in just red swim trunks, stayed by the back porch near Frankie as his brother, donned in hot pink swim trunks and a black backward baseball cap, ran different routes across the backyard. After urging his brother to throw a harder pass, Benny bobbled it, resulting in the ball landing in the pool, splashing Santiago – who clearly had been taking a nap.

Lucille’s windows were closed, so they couldn’t hear what the boys were saying but it was clearly some good-natured ribbing. Santiago swam to the edge of the pool, pulling himself out of the water and then promptly chasing after Benny, tackling him in the lawn as they laughed. Eventually the two got up and headed back toward the porch, but as they passed the pool Santiago pushed Benny in – his final revenge for having his nap interrupted.

“How long have you been holding out on me Lulu?” Megan smirked, knocking her shoulder into the older woman.

“It’s a pretty nice show isn’t it.” she giggled. "Wait, what are you doing?"

"Taking a picture for Katie. I think she may have a crush on Will and what kind of friend would I be if I didn't report a discovery like this?" Megan smirked.

Katie was the newest member of the neighborhood until the Millers moved in. After her divorce, she packed her life up and decided to move to Florida on her own. She wanted to escape the cold and, more importantly, anything that would remind her of her ex. Since she worked from home, it seemed like an easy decision. 

She originally had her sights set on 319 Mulefall Court and its expensive backyard. She didn't mind projects, but that house was a little too far gone for her so she decided on the other fixer-upper on the block, 323 Mulefall Court.

Megan liked Katie and quickly brought her into the fold, including the coveted neighborhood group chat. Though Megan didn’t date too often, she found herself going out occassionally with Katie, acting as her wingwoman. Megan also tried setting Katie up with her coworkers and friends of friends, but nobody ever seemed to catch Katie’s eye.

But, when Megan met Will she just knew she had to introduce him to Katie. They were both good looking, so she had no doubts there would be a physical attraction. For the little she knew of Will, he seemed to be considerate and respectful and although he was more reserved than his boisterous little brother, he had a quirky, dry sense of humor. Katie was also a bit on the quiet side, but she was a lot of fun once she felt comfortable.

Megan: *sends photo*

"This is going to be good … let's see what they say," she smirked, showing Lucille her phone.

"Ay díos mio. You all are too much!"

"I see David typing, I knew he would be the first one!"

David: Where are you, why didn’t you invite me,  and can I come?

Tyson: 👀 ok, but seriously….

Olivia: Megan!! A warning next time, holy shit the kids had my phone! 

Melissa: oh my…

Megan: 🤭 I just had to. This is Lucille's view.

Tyson: Damn, Ms. Lucille! I see you with a front row to the eye candy! 👏🏼

David: Is it just him out there or are the others there too? I'm trying to see the one that always wears the hat off. 🥵

Melissa: Which one, D? There are two who always have hats on. 

David: The one with the dark hair.

Tyson: Jesus Christ, David. How many times do I have to tell you his name is Frankie?!

David: Yessssss 😍

Megan: *sends photo* 

Megan: Just for you D! 😘

David: PAPI!! 😍 

David: You're a real one Megan!

Megan: Katie?! Are you there? You've been quiet …

Katie: I don't even know what to say … 😂

Melissa: Oooo Katie, do you think Will is hot?!

Olivia: Oh, Katie! Please say yes. If I wasn't married I'd climb that man like a tree!

Katie: You guys!! Ms. Lucille is on this group chat!

Lucille: Mi amor, I have eyes.

David: Hell yes you do queen!!

David: So when can we come over?!

Katie: We shouldn't spy on them…c'mon…

David: Boooo

Megan: Well, I have thoughts. They’re coming over to fix Lucille’s fence this week. It wouldn’t be spying if we are already over here for a…happy hour? Also thinking we invite them to a pool party of our own. 😉

Melissa: I love that idea!! We are happy to host the party, we just finished the pool this week!

Olivia: Oh that would be awesome, anything to tire out the kids so they actually sleep.

Tyson: Yess! What a great way to get to know our neighbors … right? I mean, we want to make sure they feel verrry welcome here. 😜

Megan: It’s a plan!

Megan: *changes the name of the group chat to “Neighborhood Watch”

David: LOL! Wtf is Neighborhood Watch?

Megan: It’s for Olivia - that way when she sees this chat she knows there may be something not kid friendly on it lol

Olivia: 🤦🏾‍♀️ You all are too damn much!!

Megan: Ok, it’s settled. I’ll let you know when the guys are going to come over to fix the fence. When you're all here we can plan the party. Now, got to go! Lucille and I are going to get back to our view!

David: Ughhh of all days for us to go to the beach. Thanks a lot Ty!

Tyson: Love you too babe!

“This is going to be fun,” Megan said triumphantly over to Lucille who was just shaking her head as she was reading through the texts. 

Next Chapter

A/N: We’ll learn more about the other members of the group chat throughout the next couple of chapters. 

Let me know if you want to be on the tag list moving forward!! Apologies if I accidentally left you off. I added everyone below manually and may have missed someone … just let me know!

@goodwithcheese / @gemmahale / @trulybetty / @patti7dc / @periodtsparadox / @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin / @maggiemayhemnj / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @avastrasposts / @meveispunk / @chaoticfestninja / @beholdbebravethings / @casa-boiardi / @katw474 / @linzels-blog / @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain / @primosworld / @lynnchun / @anoverwhelmingdin /@lilmizmoz / @pedrit0-pascalit0 / @titlee78 / @noisynightmarepoetry / @legendary-pink-dot

[aanoia]

Possibility

Sirius Black x reader words; 2,800+ warnings; heartbreak. not a happy ending ish. not proofread. no summary because I'm bad at them, just trust loosely inspired by Possibility by Likke Li and Dead Poets Society uhm I'm in an emo mood let's be fr. Also, it's almost midnight when I post this so tomorrow is December first! (the best month, my birthday month). And its the beginning of my Christmas advent calendar so if u dk abt it u do now :) Anywho, have fun. Both of the poems are mine, I'd love feedback!

There's a possibility

There's a possibility

All that I had was all I gon' get

Mm

“Indeed, I am aware that in the Wizarding World, poetry does not have much of an impact on the minds of its individuals. However, I am not from the Wizarding World.” Mrs. Greenbriar said with a small smile. “I’d like a poem, heartfelt and meaningful. Make it good, please. I’m interested to see what you guys can come up with.”

Y/n looked down silently at her paper, studying the small doodle of an owl on her piece of parchment. She shook her head and let out a soft sigh as she thought about the assignment. 

‘A poem?’ Y/n thought. ‘How in the world do I write a poem?’

“Now.” The professor continued. “I’m sure you’re probably thinking, how on Earth do I write a poem? Well it’s really quite simple. Sit and think for a second. Think of your happiest memory.”

Y/n’s mind filled with laughter as she remembered that day she spent with him. He grabbed tightly onto her waist, spinning her around in fast circles as she shrieked and clutched onto him tightly. He put her down and pressed a passionate kiss to her lips, locking in their fate as lovers. 

“I love you.” He had whispered. 

“What comes to mind? Christmas morning? First kiss? Whatever it is, you can make a poem about it. Now, think of your saddest moment. The moment where you felt like the world might just be ending.”

“Wait, what?” She asked, her mind in a fog.

He scrunched his brows, unbearable pain written across his features, “We need to break up.”

She shook my head, a nervous laugh falling from her lips. “No, you just- but we-”

“Y/n, please.” He pleaded, tears in his eyes.

Her eyes stung as her vision blurred, “You can’t do this.” She whispered and a tear slid down his cheek. 

“I have to.” He whispered back, and walked away.

Professor Greenbriars voice had softened, “Whatever you just thought of, make a poem out of it. Poetry is derived from emotion. It’s the key ingredient.” 

The bell chimed and immediately students shoved their parchment and quills into their bags. Y/n sat still, her mind blank as she fought back tears. She had done so well pushing that night to the farthest corner of her mind, bottled up in a glass of obsidian.

“Remember, my dear students, no poem is a bad poem. They all have meaning.”

There's a possibility

There's a possibility

All I gon' get is gone with your stare

All I gon' get is gone with your stare

“Are you working on the poem Professor Greenbriar assigned?” Marlene asked as she sat down at the table Y/n and Lily sat at, scribbling away on their parchment.

Lily glanced up, “Do be quiet, we are in the library.”

Y/n smiled and looked up from her paper, “And yes, we are working on the poems.”

Marlene groaned, “I don’t get it. The woman said it herself, poetry has no impact on our world, so why do we need to make a poem? Make it make sense.” She crossed her arms.

“She also mentioned how she isn’t from the Wizarding World, meaning she doesn’t care what impacts it and what doesn’t.” Lily replied before throwing her quill on the table angrily.

“Woah, what’s up with her?” Marlene asked Y/n who simply shrugged.

“I have no clue what to write, nor how to write it.” Lily explained, resting her head in her hands.

“Preach sister.” 

“You could always write about me, Flower.” James interrupted and Y/n’s amused smile dropped.

Lily shoved the man away, causing his back to bump into Sirius Black's chest. Sirius smirked, leaning over his shoulder.

“You guys wanna hear my poem?” Sirius asked, his eyes avoiding Y/n’s as his heart clenched.

“Not really.” Marlene answered, picking at her nails to show her disinterest.

“Okay.” Sirius said, pulling out the crumpled parchment from his pocket anyway and clearing his throat. “Get ready for this. Are you ready?”

James nodded with a grin and turned to face Sirius, “I was born ready.”

Sirius darkened his face dramatically, “A cat, on a mat.”

James put a hand on his heart, tears welling in his eyes, “Enough to make a grown man cry.”

Sirius bowed, “Thank you, thank you.”

Someone cleared their throat loudly, catching everyone's attention. The librarian pointed to the wall, where a magical sign hung with bold letters. ‘James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew are strictly prohibited in the library until further notice.’

James looked back to us with an apologetic look, “Sorry, ladies, but we must take our leave.”

“Couldn’t have done so soon enough.” Lily muttered, going back to her poem. 

Marlene sighed, “Y/n/n.” Y/n lifted her head again, a small smile on her lips.

“Yes, Marls?”

“Is your poem sad or happy?”

She glanced at the writing, “Have you met me?”

“It’s obviously sad.” Lily answered for her.

Marlene placed her hand on Y/n’s arm, “My depressed queen.”

“Don’t be rude.” Lily scolded.

“I’m not rud-” Marlene was cut off by her own loud gasp. The librarian cleared her throat once again and Marlene winced. The group of girls laughed quietly at the librarian's annoyed look, shaking her head dismissively as she cursed about kids these days.

So tell me when you hear my heart stop

You're the only one who knows

Tell me when you hear my silence

There's a possibility I wouldn't know

The warmth of the fire ticked Y/n’s legs as she sat on the couch in the Common Room. She stared silently at the neat cursive writing on the piece of parchment, overthinking every word that lay upon it. She fiddled with her necklace, the soft grip her teeth had on her bottom lip never leaving. 

The door quietly opened, just enough to not be heard as a boy walked through the portrait hole. Sirius paused as he gazed at the figure curled up on the couch, working once again on her poem. It seemed to be all she did these past few days. A flood of familiarity filled his body as he noticed her fiddle with her necklace. It was from her mom, he remembered. She never took it off.

“Working on the poem again?” He asked quietly, so as to not scare the girl. Despite his best efforts, she still jumped in surprise, scrambling to hide the parchment under the book she was using as a hard surface. He winced, “Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.”

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat, “You’re okay. And yeah, I am. I’m just reviewing it now, making some final changes.”

Sirius nodded, “You think we’re going to have to read them aloud in class?” He questioned, hesitantly taking a seat in the armchair next to the couch. Y/n straightened her back and cleared her throat.

“I sure hope not.”

“Is it personal?” He asked, genuinely curious. 

Y/n nodded slowly, “Yeah, it is.”

He nodded with her, “Oh, cool.”

It was silent and Sirius was about to stand up and leave before she spoke up, “Why are you coming in so late?”

“I went to the kitchens, I wanted some cookies.” He explained shortly. 

Y/n’s brows furrowed, “Did you have a nightmare?” She wondered aloud, remembering that was his way of calming down after a bad dream. When they were together, he’d invite her as well, for extra comfort. 

Sirius laughed quietly while nodding, “You remember.” He looked down to his hands.

“Of course I do. Despite the reason being bad, those nights with the elves were the ones I looked most forward to.”

Sirius looked back up, “Really?”

Y/n stared at the fire, “Yeah, really.”

“So, why are you up so late?” He returned the question.

Y/n shrugged, her eyes flicking to him only to find him already on her. “I couldn’t get myself to fall asleep.”

“Too much on your mind, huh?” He said softly and she nodded. “You know me so well.” She whispered.

“Yeah, I do.” He whispered back.

Know that when you leave

Know that when you leave

By blood and by me, you walk like a thief

By blood and by me, I fall when you leave

“Okay, it’s officially been two weeks since I have assigned you with writing me a poem, so now I’d like to drop a bomb on you, for some character growth.” Professor Greenbrior grinned, seemingly very proud of herself as students whispered. “You will be presenting your poems in front of the class.”

Y/n’s heart dropped and she felt eyes on her. She knew it was him, looking to her in worry. Her stomach churned in nerves, overthinking everything that has led up to this moment. She wondered why she took this stupid class in the first place, but she knew exactly why. He wanted to take it, so of course she did too.

“We will go in alphabetical order by last names.” Sirius groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “Yes, Mr. Black, you are first.” 

James clapped a hand on his best friend's back, “Go on, mate. Say it like you mean it!”

“Yes! Say it like you mean it.” Professor Greenbriar agreed as Sirius winked at James. 

Just like he did at the library, he took the crumpled paper from his pocket and cleared his throat. 

“I wonder if he wrote another poem or kept it the same.” Marlene said to Lily and Y/n.

“He probably kept it the same.” Lily responded as Y/n stared forward. Lily took notice and silently grabbed her hand. Y/n gave her a grateful smile.

“A cat, with a hat, on a mat.” Sirius said proudly as the class laughed while they clapped. 

“He added some pazazz.” Marlene giggled and Professor Greenbriar shook her head with a smile. 

“Forever the joker, Mr. Black.”

“You couldn’t be more right, professor.” He agreed as he sat back down in his seat. 

“Okay, Miss Evans.” The professor called up and Lily gulped.

“Good luck.” Y/n whispered and she smiled.

“Uh, it’s really short, not even a poem really. I just didn’t know what to write so I’m so-” Lily rambled and the professor cut her off.

“Miss Evans, does it convey an emotion you feel?” Lily nodded and the professor smiled. “Then it’s perfect. Go one, please, I’d love to hear it.”

Lily took a deep breath and read from her paper, “I don’t understand how. With my friends. I like to think we’re the same person in a different font. Two pieces of the same soul. But with you. We’re completely different, in the same font. Two separate souls tied together eternally with an unbreakable string. I’ve never believed in opposites attract. Until I met you.”

The class was silent before it broke out in clapping and cheers from every individual. Y/n smiled proudly at her best friend, knowing she’d never admit who it was really about.

“That’s about me, right, Flower? Me?” Speak of the devil.

So tell me when you hear my heart stop

You're the only one who knows

Tell me when you hear my silence

There's a possibility I wouldn't know

“And finally, Miss L/n, please take the stage.”

The room was silent as Y/n walked up to the front of the classroom, her nerves practically dripping from her pores. Her mind raced as she took her rightful spot in front of everyone, dreadful thoughts filling her head. Y/n took a deep breath and glanced at her paper, knowing she didn’t need it to read the poem she had memorized word for word.

“Whenever you’re ready.” Professor Greenbriar said quietly and Y/n nodded. 

“There’s a possibility. That my heart rests in the palm of your shaky hands. My body trembles as you tiptoe around it. The fear of shattering it once again petrifying. There’s a possibility. That you will leave yet another night. Stealing away what should belong to me. Stealing away the thing that keeps me breathing.”

A mixture of tears, mucus, and saliva stained her mothers shirt as she sobbed into her arms, her dads wrapped around both of them protectively. She clutched tightly onto the cloth on her mothers back, desperately trying to ground herself. Her heart felt as if it had been ripped around, shattered into pieces, and all the broken pieces had been shoved back in.

“Oh, baby.” Her mom whispered, her voice broken from seeing her daughter so distraught. She let out a strangled cry and her dad tightened his grip, refraining his own tears at the state of his baby girl. 

“We love you so much.” He added quietly, knowing it did little to numb the pain of a heart break.

Y/n ignored the people in the room as she continued, “Only you understand the depths of my despair. How my breath flees at the sight of beauty. How when you disappear the fall is silent. And the lock that was robbed from my chest. Falls still as the key simply disintegrates. Something so silent. Not even I realize that the world has ended.”

The morning after had been the most painful. When she had expected to wake up in the arms of her loving boyfriend, the night before only being a terrible nightmare, she had woken to find herself in her parents warm bed. Neither of them were present, so she cried again. Every fibre of her being already aching for his warm touch just once more.

Her mother came into the room, “Sweetheart.”

“It wasn’t just a nightmare.” She whispered and her mom nodded sadly, embracing her again.

“You’ll get through this. I promise, my love.”

So tell me when my sorrow's over

You're the reason why I'm closed

Tell me when you hear me falling

There's a possibility it wouldn't show

Y/n made eye contact with Sirius as she recited the last section, “There’s a possibility. That it leaves me breathless. As the key weaves through the tall trees. Never to return the lock. Never to return what once was safe.”

The class clapped louder than they had the entire period, and professor Greenbriar wiped away a stray tear as she clapped. Y/n ignored it all as she stared sadly at Sirius, who gazed back. His cold, gray eyes are glassy and regretful of the past. 

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Her dad asked and she nodded. 

“I’m sure, dad.” She responded, hugging him tightly.

“Don’t let that boy near you, or he’ll know what it’s like to come across and angry dad.” Her dad threatened and she laughed. Something her parents hadn’t heard much since summer break began.

“You’re very intimidating, dad, don’t worry.” She assured and he smiled, patting her on the shoulder.

“Oh, I’ll miss you.” Her mom cried, pulling her into a tight hug.

“You always do. I’ll miss you too, mom.” She answered, relishing in the warmth her mother provided. 

“Your sixth year. Oh, they grow up too fast.” Her mother said and her dad shook his head with a laugh.

“You’re so sentimental.” He teased and she tuned them out as she made eye contact with the boy who ruined her summer. They bickered in the background as all the memories came flooding back, every night she cried into her parents arms. She took a deep breath and kept her face stern, determined to not let him break her like that again. 

There’s a possibility that Sirius Black had just lost the best thing he ever had.

By blood and by me, I'll fall when you leave

By blood and by me, I'll follow your lead

my masterlist

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taglist; @loving-and-dreaming @1lellykins @poetrypirate

[brandogenius]

The late-night karaoke and dances - phoebe and maybe grumpy!masc!reader?

‼️RPF‼️

(not proofread)

PROMPT- phoebe x masc grumpy reader - slow dancing

“come dance” a hand grabbed your tattooed hands tightly, trying to haul you up from couch. phoebe was standing around the living room in one of your hoodies and shorts. microphone in her hand as a song played from the tv.

“no” you whined, trying to sit back on the couch “i’m perfectly fine where i am right now thank you very much”

“oh come on- don’t be a grumpy pants” lucy called from the other couch. julien and herself were cuddled together on the couch. blankets surrounding the two of them. you looked back at your girlfriend phoebe. she was back to singing karaoke on the tv.

“i’m not really up for singing karaoke or katy perry fireworks at three am. id rather watch you guys instead” you crossed your arms, watching phoebe jump up and down, dragging julien up from her blanket nest with lucy. the two were jumping around the small space.

it was lucy’s birthday. what better to do than celebrate it at home in the company of her friends. wine glasses and pizza boxed scattered on the kitchen table, party banners stuck up on the wall with balloons. everyone has party hats on their head. you will admit it was nice. but you were more the type of person to sit and admire- to watch rather than experience.

the song came to an end as phoebe sat down on the ground with a thud. it was nearly four am and apparently phoebe didn’t feel like stopping any time soon.

she leaned her head back, bumping against your knee, smiling up at you. “hi baby” she grinned. you brushed some strands of hair away from her sweaty forehead. “think you wanna calm down for the night? you went through like ten different songs if i remember clearly”

“nah. just a couple more” phoebe lifted up the mike and threw it over to lucy who caught it. “i think the birthday girl should sing something” phoebe closed her eyes and smiled while you ran your fingers through the silver haired woman’s hair.

you watched lucy walk over to the laptop and queue up a few songs before your focus drifted back to your girlfriend on the floor. “i’m gonna get some popcorn. you want anything?” you shifted your legs off the couch and onto the floor. phoebe shook her head but thanked you.

grabbing yourself some popcorn and water, you walked back into the living room. lucy was singing song slow song you didn’t really recognise. phoebe was swaying around, phone in her hand as she recorded the moment. julien had her head on a pillow watching the two girls in her own world.

phoebes eyes caught yours, quickly settling the phone down and rushing over to you. “come dance with me” she grabbed the popcorn from your hands, placing it on the coffee table. “baby i’d rather watch honestly. dancing isn’t my thing you know that honey” phoebe didn’t listen as she brought you in closely, one arm on your hip and the other in your hand as she took the first steps, guiding you to a small waltz around the living room.

“i’m afraid i’ll step on your toes” you chuckled nervously, glancing down every so often to try and match phoebes rhythm and foot placement. “you’re doing great trust me” phoebe whispered back to you. the smile on her face was enough to reassure you. the two of you danced slowly around the living room. phoebe rested her head on your shoulder, humming along to the music in the background.

“you make a good dance partner” phoebe whispered to you. this made you chuckle a tiny bit. “i learn from the best dont i?”

[celandeline]

Summer of Like // Farleigh Start x OC (23)

If there’s one thing you can say about the Cattons, it’s that they know how to throw a party. 

The extravagance is overwhelming - hundreds of people are scattered about the grounds and in the house, all dressed to the nines in midsummer night’s fashion. Glitter seems to float in the air from how the strobe lights flash pinks and blues into the night, catching on every slightly reflective surface and amplifying tenfold. Though it's been hours since the sun disappeared behind the maze, the heat of the day still lingers, trapped between all the sweaty bodies. On the lake, lotus shaped lights drift with the breeze. 

Music blasts through the grounds, and Venetia hasn’t let go of my hand since the crowds first started rolling in. It feels like Cambridge again - the dancing, the drinking, the way that it’s just us in a sea of people, laughing and smiling and shouting at each other over the music. It’s a high on it’s own - though there’s copious amounts of coke if I wanted any.

A man bumps into Venetia and sends her stumbling into me, gripping onto my shoulders for dear life. Still dancing, she turns as the man leans down to apologize, picking up my arms and wrapping them around her middle. I rest my head on her shoulder as the man retreats, and our dance renews, swaying and grinding to the beat. 

We simply dance for a while, until Venetia tips her head back to speak into my ear. “I need another drink!”

I press a wet kiss to her cheek before letting go. “I’ll catch you later?” 

“Always.” She says, winking at me before sauntering off towards the house, her spiderweb dress like a string of prisms in the night. 

I reach down to adjust my own dress - a strapless sheer thing peppered with strategically placed peaseblossoms to cover all my bits. Left alone, the craving for a cigarette hits me, and I wander off the dancefloor in search of something to smoke. 

Even off the dancefloor, the crowds are thick. I wish Venetia had chosen something a little more substantial for me to wear - something, preferably, with a place for me to store a pack of cigs and a lighter - but I can’t pretend that my dress isn’t simultaneously the sexiest and prettiest thing I’ve ever worn. And, this quest for a cig will be a chance to meet some new people that I’ll likely never see again - a favorite pastime of mine. 

The squeeze past a gaggle of girls all dressed as fairies, following the scent of smoke. I spot the burn of a cherry in the throng, and cut through the crowd until I’m standing in front of a guy that I don’t know on the edge of the crowd. In the distance, a fire flickers on the lawn, a pig slowly rotating over the flames. 

His eyes sweep over me, and he grins around his cigarette. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I return, putting out a hand to shake. “I’m Evelyn.”

He takes my hand, and shakes it twice. “James.” He says. “What can I do for you Evelyn?”

“I was looking for someone willing to give a pretty girl a cigarette.” I say, batting my eyelashes at him. “Are you my guy?”

He laughs. “I’d be willing, for a price.”

“What kind of price?” I ask. There’s no world in which I have sex with this man for a cigarette, but I’m curious to see where this goes.

“I’ll give you a cigarette,” He steps closer, narrowing the distance between us and pulling his cigarette out of his mouth. “If you give me a kiss.”

I grin. “Sure.” 

Tilting my head slightly upwards, I plant a kiss on his waiting lips. It’s too wet, and he slips his tongue in too early, and it makes me miss Farleigh. Farleigh knew how to kiss. 

James pulls back, and digs a cigarette out of his pocket, handing it to me. I press the end to his to light it, and tuck it between my lips, sucking greedily. 

“So.” James says. “You wouldn’t happen to know who’s birthday it is, would you?”

“Oliver.” I say. “Little guy, about my height, big blue eyes. I’m sure you’ll see him around at some point.”

“Oliver.” James rolls the name over his tongue. “I don’t know him.”

“He’s a friend of Felix’s.” I say. “From Oxford.”

James hums, placing his cigarette back between his lips. “I used to go to school with Felix, when we were both in secondary school.”

I nod along, my eyes drifting away from him and back towards the flickering fire in the distance. Two silhouettes stand in front of the flames, one with antlers coming out of his head - Oliver - and the other, tall with a halo of curls…

I watch the taller silhouette bend down, getting in Oliver’s face. It can’t be anyone else. It can’t. 

I turn back to James. “I’m really sorry, I just saw someone-”

His gaze flicks over to the fire, and then back to me. “It’s fine.” He cuts me off. “You’re not really my type anyway. I don’t make a habit of fucking Americans.”

I only acknowledge the comment by flipping him off as I slip away, making a beeline for Farleigh. The walk to the open fire isn’t long, and it’s made even shorter by the speed at which I dash over. He stands up from Oliver, and I catch the sour look on Oliver’s face as he stalks away, back towards the house. I breeze past him.

“Farleigh.” 

He turns, his face splitting into a grin when he sees me. “Eves.” He drops the head of his costume in favor of sweeping me up into a hug. He squeezes me for a moment before he realizes what he’s doing and sets me back down. “Sorry.” He says, sheepish. “I just- sorry.”

I can’t help but giggle. “No, it’s okay. It’s so good to see you. It’s been so boring without you here, I missed you.”

He smiles. “You make a girl blush, Eves.” 

“So did you sneak in, or..?” I prompt, raising my eyebrows. 

“Believe it or not, I was actually invited.” He says. “They just can’t resist my boyish charm.” 

“Is that what it’s called?” I tease. 

“That’s what I call it.” He says, dipping two fingers into his sleeve and pulling out a little baggy of white powder. He reaches down, grabbing one of my hands and shaking a line of powder onto the back before running his nose along the skin and hoovering it up. I watch, wide eyed, as he licks up the excess, never breaking eye contact with me. 

Letting go of my hand, he wipes his nose, and jiggles the little baggy. “You want some? It’s pure - I made sure.” 

“Why not?” I say, taking the baggy from him. He holds out his hand, and I do what he just did, shaking a line across the back of his palm and snorting it up. Only, instead of running my tongue over his hand, I simply look at him. “Go on. Lick.”

Pupils blown wide - from the coke or my words, I don’t know - he licks the back of his hand, swallowing the rest of the powder. 

“Where's Venetia?” He asks. 

I glance behind me, back towards the manor house. “Dunno. She went to go get a drink a while ago. Probably throwing herself at Ollie by now.” I look back at him. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Just wondering if she was going to tug on your leash anytime soon.” He says. 

“Farleigh.” I give him a look.

Undeterred, he continues. “Since she’s left you, how about hanging out with me?”

I grin, stepping closer to him. “I’d like nothing more.”

&lt; previous part | next part >

[moriartyluver]

ARE YOU MINE CHAPTER IV

"AND THEN I LOOKED AT HIS FACE," (Name) laughed as she sat with her fellow band mates during a 10 minute break, holding a cup of god knows what as she tried to stay awake. "and he was all like, in this posh ass voice, 'That's a lovely name'" she said, mimicking an upper class accent "Like he looked so fucking stunned! But it was cute, like I could've kissed him right there and be satisfied!" 

James laughed, hand smacking his knee as if she said the funniest thing in the world "Who would have thought our (name) was into rich pricks?!" 

"Yeah, well I'll probably never see his Tory ass again," she took a sip from her cup, "I tried asking Herder and he was talking about some other rich guy  who just so happened to be the brother of the potential manager I bumped into." 

"I thought rich people were meant to have uncommon names," John said in confusion "You know, like Bartholomew" 

That's particular line had James cackling even harder. 

"Not like you can say shit, John," Sherlock laughed, smacking John's back. 

"Oh but you can, Sherlock?" (Name) teased, dropping her paper cup on the floor 

"HAHAHAGAHHA" 

"Hey, um, if you guys are ready, we have a couple more songs left for you to play," The older sister from earlier said, tapping (Name)'s shoulder. 

She sighed, reluctantly getting back up to go to the band's equipment. "What song are we doing..?" She slurred 

"Uhh..we did Teddy Picker last, and Crying Lighting before, so I think this one's Arabella," John, possibly the only sober one, suggested 

"Looks like someone dressed the part," Sherlock said, eyeing (Name) up and down as he picked up his guitar. 

She rolled her eyes, following suit with her own red guitar "At least I can dress myself." 

"Or maybe you're just an attention whore." 

"Or maybe I have to look put together because I'm the only girl," She said, positioning herself near the mic. "But even if I was a boy, I'd still be the hot one." 

"Who said you were the hot one?" James chimed in, quite offended 

John gave an exasperated sigh. "Can you all get it together, please?" 

(Name) groaned as John tapped his drumsticks together, strumming at her guitar as the beat started to form itself, her red lips parted as she sang the first verse whilst the sweaty crowd of teenagers in front of them sang along. 

By the end of the second chorus, (Name)'s voice had grown sore and rough, partially due to her attempts to sing over the noise surrounding her and also so she wouldn't piss off the birthday girl's bitchy older sister (she had a grudge against her after she told (Name) to sing louder and be more 'engaging' following the first song. Apparently she wanted to get her daddy's moneys worth, but it wasn’t her fault that these kids didn’t know how to sing) 

"That's magic," (Name) sang, her tired fingers gliding over the strings

"In a cheetah print coat!” 

“Just a slip,” 

“Underneath it I hope!!”

“Asking if,” she paused as she held out her mic, waiting for the brain dead rich kids to finish the line. Of course, they only knew the first part..she should have known. 

“..I can have one of those,” James finished, eyeing (Name) as if to apologise for getting them such a dead gig. “Organic..” 

“Cigarettes that she smokes,” She rolled her eyes again for what seemed to be the a thousandth time that day 

“Wraps her lips,”  Sherlock joined in reluctantly whilst the rest of the noise were mere mumbles of the kids trying to keep up regardless of their embarrassment. He could’ve sworn he saw a few lines of coke on some tables in the back, whilst some girls snorted them with paper straws. Hey, they may be rotting their brains but at least they have a fuck about the environment! 

“Round the Mexican coke,” (name) placed her mic back in its stand, preparing herself for guitar solo. “Makes you wish you were the bottle.” 

“Takes a sip of your soul and it sounds like..”  

Oh so now they know the words, (Name) thought, her fingers gliding over the strings, trying not to make any mistakes with all the numbness in her fingertips. Even as someone who hadn’t been playing long, her talent was evident throughout the momentary performance, and she had surprisingly managed to multi task and maintain her stage presence for once. The sound echoed through the unnecessarily large room. As much as she loved the electrifying feeling, god was this giving her a headache..or maybe it was the mysterious substance from that cup she had drank from earlier..or the unmistakable smell of weed. 

Hell, by the end of the solo, she had a terrible ringing in her ear. She rubbed at her ears mercilessly, trying to reduce the pain. On top of that, she felt so damn warm, but she didn’t want to take off her jacket because that was the only thing keeping her outfit from looking a complete mess. 

Sensing her discomfort, Sherlock tossed her a water bottle, for the purpose of both sobering her up and also cooling her down. (Name), who was currently lacking in any common sense, uncapped the bottle and splashed it on her face. Hilariously, only half the water seemed to have entered her mouth at all. She could feel her mascara dripping down her cheeks to add to her messy appearance, which could only slay so hard before looking disturbing. 

“Uhh..do you lot want another one..?” (Name) spoke into the mic as she crouched down on the makeshift stage, her voice raspy. “Because if we do, I don’t think it’ll be fair on us if you shitheads don’t know the lyrics.” 

She couldn’t exactly make out what anyone was saying, but hesitantly got up, hands on the neck of her guitar. “I’ll take that as a yes, you stinky motherfuckers.” She laughed, ignoring the piercing glare from the weird girl who kept dictating what they were doing. 

Poor (name) had only managed to get to the end of the second verse before the ringing in her ears had turned into sirens and all of a sudden, the cops had been called. 

“F-flashing of digital cameras, from tourists in Trafalgar Square-“ (Name) paused, looking around the empty room with blurred vision, trying to convince herself she was hallucinating as she heard Sherlock calling out to her in such a disoriented state “Cigarette smoke uhh, watching a stripper and snortin’ some coke off her thighs.” 

“Dammit (Name)! You’re not even getting the lyrics right!” Sherlock grabbed her shoulder “hurry up before you get us all arrested, you idiot!” 

“Arrested?” She repeated, turning to the windows to see blue siren lights and a few cop cars surrounding the entrance to the mansion 

“Yes arrested!” Sherly affirmed, trying to pack up his equipment 

John stood up, intervening. “Shouldn’t we just stick around and explain what happened to the police? They’ll understand. We are innocent after all.” 

“Oh hell no,” James exclaimed, fumbling to get his bass guitar. “If the cops get to me, my ass is getting deported.” 

“Nah, you’re white, you’ll be fine.” (Name) laughed weakly before widening her eyes “oh wait never mind, you are kind of an illegal..especially with the whole, Yknow.” 

“Which is why we should fucking leave!” Sherlock yelled, shaking (Name)’s droopy frame as he held her shoulders “we’re all too broke to afford a good lawyer!”

Before they could run off through one of the many shattered windows, they heard a deep cockney voice from behind them. 

“Hands up, kids. You don’t wanna make this any more difficult than it should be.” He said, stifling a yawn. “I mean, the fuck are you lot even doing this late? It’s 11 bloody PM.” 

“Listen, you old geezer- ” (Name) started, but stopped as John pinched her shoulder, prompting her to shut her mouth. “Nevermind.” She groaned, raising her arms whilst the rest of the band did the same. 

“Listen,” a now sober (Name) hissed as they entered the police station. “If they ask for you to call someone to bail you out, don’t call anyone who would get mad, aight? I have a plan.” 

“Oh so you have a plan now?” Sherlock asked sarcastically. 

“Why you giving me attitude? It’s James who got us the gig.” (Name) whispered angrily. “You didn’t tell us the kids were gonna be that unhinged! Where the hell did you even get this gig..?” She turned to James. 

“Uh..well I-“ James tried to defend himself as he was being dragged away to a cell whilst (Name) widened her eyes 

“Don’t tell me you- How could you James!” She yelled “You can’t book us a gig with a girl you used to fuck and expect your little ex to not try to set us up somehow!” 

“She wasn’t setting us up! It was just a coincidence that the police turned up!” The blond explained 

(Name) struggled against the handcuffs, whining about how tight they were. “How do you know she didn’t call the cops on us just to save her ass and not get her and her weird sister blamed by their parents?!” 

“Because she thinks I’m hot! She wouldn’t call the cops on a guy she finds fit!” James raised his voice, only to get yelled at by another horizontally challenged policeman. 

“Mum’s gonna kill me.” Sherlock muttered to himself “Thanks a lot, losers.” 

“Wake up, sweetheart.” A gruff voice called out from the outside (Name)’s cell. 

She rubbed at her eyes, grumbling in annoyance as she stained her hands with black mascara and eyeliner. “How long have I been here?” She asked as she sat up on the hard bench “feels like fucking ages..” 

“About..” The bald man checked his dirty primark watch “Uhh..40 minutes..?” 

(Name) blinked in disbelief “Someone up there hates me..” she mumbled. “What do you want?” 

“Hey, I’m the policeman here, kid.” He retorted “You need to call someone to bail you out, but knowing girls like you, I doubt your parents are around..” 

“I really wish I could prove your sexiest statement wrong, but you’re right. My parents are in Wales for God knows why..” she sighed, hands in her pockets. She felt a little slip of card against her fingertips and reached out her hand to see what it was. She narrowed her eyes as she attempted to read the text “A-Albert J..Mori..Moriarty..?” 

(Name) furrowed her eyebrows, trying to recall where she had got this business card from. Realisation hit her like a truck. 

That guy. 

“I thought this was in my other jacket..?” She whispered “What kinda plot armour is this?” 

“You gonna give us a number, love?” The policeman asked 

The guitarist nodded “Crazy coincidence, but I have this little thing.” She waved the paper at him. “Thank god for that, I don’t even know my mother’s phone number anymore.” 

“Yeah whatever,” he opened the cell, guiding (Name) to a telephone on a wall. 

She dialled the numbers, eyes flickering from the keypad to the card as she tried to recite what she planned on saying in her head. She was calling a businessman who was probably working or something right now, for crying out loud. He probably wouldn’t even remember her face, let alone her voice.

Ring Ring 

Surprisingly, Albert picked up before the third ring. “Hello?” His groggy yet posh voice spoke from the other end. 

“Hey..um..you probably don’t remember me, I mean why would you, but like-“ she took a deep breath, fidgeting with the telephone wire “I got arrested, and I kinda need someone to pick me and my friends up..God I’m so stupid. I’m that girl-“ 

“From the cafe?” He asked 

(Name) raised an eyebrow “Y-yeah!” She stammered “How’d you remember?” 

She heard him chuckle “I’m not that much of a forgetful person when it comes to important encounters. What police station is it?” He asked 

She looked over to a sign near the front desk, where she had revoked her possessions earlier. “Umm..Buckinghamshire Heights police station..? I think so anyways..” she still couldn’t believe her luck, she was seriously about to get bailed out of jail by a rich guy. 

“Perfect. I’m actually quite close to there. Allow me about half an hour and I’ll be there.” He said, ready to hang up “farewell until then, (Name).” 

“Bye- wait how the fuck did you remember my name..?!”

A/N: omg guys I’m at 505 followers 😨😨 give me ideas for a special I can do because I’m too lazy to do it myself 😞 anyways thank you pookies 🫶

[randonauticrap]

Fireflies

Pairing ~ Leon Dompteur x Reader

Word Count ~ 445

Author's Note ~ Fluffy fluff fluffaroo in a field at night with fireflies and owls. Happy Birthday, sweet Leon! 🥰

Intermittent flashes lit up the night sky in coordinated orchestration; a blip here and a blip there, surrounding you and Leon in the open clearing. The fireflies danced to the melody of the song you sang as your prince pulled you gently into his lap and firmly against his chest. The enchanting tune carried along the breeze and wafted through the cool night air, bringing both insect and midnight fowl to listen and frolic. The night always came alive at the sound of your voice, and you often took to the balconies of the palace to sing into the darkness.

But your lover had decided that you needed a new place to sing - a place engulfed in nature - a place right at his side. So he brought you here, a refuge from the bustle of the town and the danger of the palace; a glade within the depths of a thick forest adjacent to Rhodolite's palace. He insisted you'd be safe here, as long as he was with you, and if you trusted anyone in the world, it was Leon. He had never before led you astray, nor did you ever think he would. He was your safe place, your stronghold… your home.

Your song ended as Leon pressed a kiss to your cheek, his arms firmly wrapped around your front. "That was beautiful, baby." He whispered in your ear, and you giggled as his breath tickled your skin.

"Thanks, Leon." You turned in his embrace to wrap your arm around his neck and lean in to kiss him, his lips smiling under the weight of your own. You pressed your foreheads together and smiled up at him, your worries from the day and all your work, melting under the soft gaze of his sunlight-kissed irises.

"Of course, sweetheart. Always." He murmured, bumping his nose with yours before kissing you again.

You snuggled into his warm cotton shirt and drew in his scent. Leon always smelled of fresh leather and clean linens, and since he had stolen your heart, it had become your favorite scent in the world. He threw his cape around your shoulders as the breeze picked up through the trees, and your heart stuttered a little, as it always did when he exhibited his gentlemanly qualities - of which he had many.

But his palm gliding up and down your shoulder had your heart slowing again and the corners of your mind tugging you into sleep, so you allowed your eyes to fall closed and fell into a comfortable rest in the haven of your lover's strong arms, the night creatures continuing their dance around the two of you until the sun rose.

~

Tags for the Lovelies: @aquagirl1978 @maries-gallery @rhodolitesroseforclavis @atelier-the-atelier @ikehoe @queengiuliettafirstlady @violettduchess @leonscape

[erdogan-nevra]

Left Behind

Date: March 16th and beyond

Locations: London, Porto

Medea was silent in the chair next to her. Or as next to her as she could be as they were in separate pods across the aisle. She doubted the woman wanted to talk but even if she did, it would have been drowned out by the constant thrum of the airplane.

Nevra had never demanded anything from the Rutherfords in the entirety of her employment. They likely would have given her whatever she asked for, within reason, but she had never taken advantage of that. Advantage of their generosity and what giving it to people meant. Most would mistake it for loyalty or comradeship. A chance to tell the people who worked for them that they cared when really it was a chance to show the rest of the world how much fucking money they had. 

Fine, let them throw it around. The eleven hour flight would be more bearable in first class. 

~

“Wait, I’m coming. Wait, wait!” The knock had been soft at first but grew the longer she took to disentangle herself from her blanket cocoon on the couch. The hallways of her little cottage was already narrow and when Sabir zigged the same time she did, Nevra found her knees slamming to the carpet. She shook her head and nudged the dog away, talking loudly before she even opened the door. 

“I didn’t think you’d come thi-”

Ayaz. Not who she’d expected to see but Nevra smiled nonetheless. Maybe he’d remembered her birthday as well and was bored enough to come wish her so in person. She crossed her arms and put on a small pout. 

“I hope my present is hiding somewhere in your coat because I don’t see one and I’ll be honest, if you didn’t get me anything, I might just cry.”

It took her three more beats to understand that he wasn’t there to wish her a happy birthday. 

What was that look on his face? 

“Ayaz?”

“Nev, let’s go inside.” 

She didn’t know why but her heart started racing as he put a hand on her back and shut the door behind them. 

~

We will be landing in Porto Velho in twenty minutes. Please have your arrival card and any items to declare ready and in hand.  

She could feel Medea’s side eye and decided to ignore it. Neither were traveling as their namesake and both had only a carry on. A few changes of clothes was all that was needed for this trip. 

The plane rolled into port with a soft bump. Nevra was on her feet in seconds. 

“Easy there.” Medea’s voice snaked through her consciousness, squeezing uncomfortably, suffocating her with its very presence. 

Ayaz had suggested the woman come with her and when Nevra had told him she didn’t need a babysitter, he shrugged. Yet her arrival at Heathrow and the sight of his ex-wife told Nevra enough. They didn’t trust her, not right now. Not with-

Nevra smiled at the customs worker. When they’d gotten off the plane and ended up here was beyond her. Everything blurred together now. “No, nothing to declare. Just here for a business trip.” Her face remained calm and inviting. Learning to play different parts had been one of the main skills she’d learned as an assassin. She’d never imagined she’d be using it in her daily life just to reassure people she wasn’t going to throw herself off a bridge. 

Medea was next to her again. The Turk could feel her resisting the urge to take her elbow and guide her to the car that was waiting outside. Both women knew what would happen if she touched Nevra. She’d practically bit her head off at Heathrow to prove it. So unlike her. Then again, none of her actions had been like her the past few days. 

What would he think of it all?

~

“Nevra, did you hear what I said?”

Dead. 

Dead. 

Dead.

The snap of fingers echoed in the air. 

The person she’d chosen to love was dead. 

The person who had chosen to love her was dead. 

He was dead. 

Fingers wrapped around her wrists, pressure building each moment she kept silent. 

She had always been the one to leave when things came down to it. Her community, her friends, her fiancé. Nevra always made the choice. It never made it any easier but she had always been in control of who entered and left her life. That way she always knew who to blame when those horrible days eventually showed their faces. 

Who could she blame for this? 

Not herself. 

The drug dealer? Absolutely.

The women and men who joined him for god knows how long until he’d been the unfortunate victim of a bad batch? Sure.

Kerem and his anger, his unfuckingreasonable anger toward their situation? If she tried hard enough. 

Not herself though. 

But Berat…

“Nevra, come back.”

No, she would never, could never blame him. She had chosen him and she wouldn’t blame that person. Even if-

So now she was the one left behind and god did it fucking suck. A harsh laugh escaped her lips. She finally noticed Ayaz and saw the look of concern at her outburst.

~

Blood splattered her face as the assassin pulled the trigger of the gun resting at the base of the man’s skull. It was messier than normal but he hadn’t come quietly and she was pissed off enough not to care. Medea on the other hand looked less than pleased. Blood also splattered the toes of her shoes. She took one look at Nevra’s blood covered face and audibly exhaled through her nose. 

“At least you used a silencer.” She could barely hear the words over the roaring in her head and the sounds of passing cars on the street at the end of the alley.

A burner phone appeared in the older woman’s hand. A quick picture and a moment before confirmation before she tossed it into a barrel, followed by a lit match. A tiny part of Nevra wanted to burn the dead man as well but that wasn’t the job. This job was finished. 

She took out her own phone and pressed the name at the top. Three rings before it picked up. Time difference, right. He wouldn’t care though, not really. 

“Another one.” 

Ayaz sighed on the other line and he kept silent for a moment, no doubt debating how long he should indulge her desire to lose herself. 

“There’s a woman in Launceston…”

~

“You’re sure? No possibility you’re wrong?” Her throat felt like she’d eaten a handful of gravel. She felt her hands begin to shake in Ayaz’s grip. A shake of his head and a slight bow but he never averted her eyes. Never severed that last tether of support she needed. 

Nevra looked toward the front door and slowly allowed the realization that Berat would never walk through it again to wash over her. How was she supposed to get through everything without him? 

They’d talked for hours and nights on end of how it had been so simple to choose each other. How, once they’d said screw it and thrown caution to the wind, life had been so much happier. Their happiness had been a choice, her choice. 

This was not her choice. 

This is what it felt like to be left behind. 

If he was going to leave her behind, then she was going to leave everyone else behind too.

“Give me a job.” 

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t said in anger or sadness or despair. It wasn’t a want but a need.

It looked like he was going to refuse her so she shook her head. No, don’t stop me.

“Give me a job.” 

~

The second plane was just as comfortable as the first had been. First class again, only this time Medea had done something unexpected. She’d bought out the entire first class. Nevra knew she was standing at the back of the area talking to the hostesses. She didn’t care what she was telling them. No one bothered her though. 

As the woman settled in the back, the Turk settled in the front. Maybe her babysitter had gone through what Nevra was going through. Maybe she expected her to use the privacy to break down and cry or throw a tantrum or let all hell loose. Nevra intended on refraining from each one of those things. 

If she was going to cry it would be on her own terms. Her grief would be her choice. Everything from here on out would be controlled by her because fuck this feeling. A better person would have taken the opportunity to understand, this was how she’d made other people in her life feel. Before, she would have been that better person. 

Now she wasn’t and didn’t care to be. 

Berat Yalaz would be the last person who would make a choice for her and the last person to leave her behind. 

The thought made her sigh.

[navstuffs]

The Lutenist and the Assassin

Pairing: Ac2!Ezio x GNMusician!Reader

Summary: Ezio hates all lute players, except for one named Petirosso.

Warnings: FLUFF, non-canon compliance, reader's nickname is pettirosso which means robin (yeap, the bird), lutenist!reader, swearing, no physical description/gender of reader, no y/n, mutual!pining, translations at the end (and as always if you see any mistake, please let me know)

Author's Notes: hiiii! in celebration of my birthday and ezio's coming soon (yeah, we both cancer), i have decided to let out some fanfics for him i had in my drafts for a while. this idea came to me on a whim, cause imagine how funny would be if he had fallen in love with a good luter player lol anyway, enjoy your reading! @cerezzzita here it is friend!!

my ezio's masterlist

Ezio Auditore is on top of the buildings of Piazza San Marcos, observing the Pazzalo Ducale. He had been studying the best way to infiltrate the palace for a while. When he finally comes down to Piazza San Marcos, he notices a small circle in the middle of the Piazza and the distant sound of a melody.

Ezio is immediately taken by surprise. All the musicians he had heard so far were horrible, to say the least, and no one liked them, especially him. Curious, he makes his way into the small group.

In the middle, a beautiful minstrel plays a sad song. You don't sing, too focused on playing the lute, and ultimately lost in your world. Ezio watches, astonished, as the rest of the others. You have a certain melancholy in how you played, Ezio presumes for a lost love.

You continue playing for around twenty minutes, and the circles gets bigger. Ezio observes you, amazed, as your fingers pluck the strings with mastery. You probably have been playing for years. It is captivating to watch, and Ezio doesn't know how long he has been standing there, too concentrated on you.

When you finish, most people applaud, waking Ezio from his trance. You glance around, surprised by how many people you attracted. You thank them, bowing. Some are dressed in very fancy clothes. You start collecting the florins, your bag filling up when a hooded man with white robes walks toward you and gives you some coins. You bow respectfully.

"Grazie mille, Signore." 

"Never had I thought I would hear someone who can actually play in this town," Ezio says, and you smile, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Grazie for your kind words, but I still have much to improve, Signore."

"And still so modest."

You glance at the man before you, remembering his face from the posters across Venezia. Fifty thousand florins on this man, dead or live. You analyze him, from his boots to his fancy robes, and you stop by his charming smile, a scar on his lip. 

"Mi chiamo Ezio. I tu?"

"I don't know if I should be giving my name to a searched man with his face all over posters in town," You answer, and Ezio's smile widens.

"That would be wise of you."

"But you can call me Pettirosso."

"A fitting name," Ezio answers, a flirtatious smile in your direction.

-x-

The next time you meet Ezio again is late at night. A large group is watching you, which is not unusual now. Your popularity had grown exponentially. The talk in Venezia is where the Pettirosso would be playing next or if you were ever going to sing. 

You look everywhere as you are playing, especially if a certain white robe-hooded man will appear. It had been a few weeks since you met him, and Ezio had vanished in the middle of the people before you could say goodbye.

After five songs, you finished for the night, receiving a lot of claps. You bow down respectfully; some people have now started giving you small bags of money. After saying goodnight, you decided to go straight to your rented place. You always tried to make different ways to ensure no one followed you.

Two streets down from your place, you feel someone bump into you. The man seems to apologize and rapidly moves away. When you take your hand into your waist, your whole money is gone. You scream "Thief!" and run after him. People move out of your way as you yell behind the man so he can stop. He realizes he is being followed and runs into a dark alley, and you follow behind him. 

It is a dead alley. You look left and right, and the thief has disappeared. You hear a noise up your head and looking up, you notice the thief on top of the roof. He seems to wave before he disappears.

"Cazzo!" You exclaim, hitting a wall nearby. You were too focused on your music to notice him while playing earlier. Now that you started saving, so you can get a better lute.

You hear a struggle atop the building, a man's voice pleading for his life and fast steps away from you. You look up, trying to observe anything, when a white mass falls behind you. You scream, jumping away, your back against the wall. It is Ezio. And he is holding all your money.

"I believe this is all yours, Petirosso." Ezio has a playful smile on his lips. You gulp, looking from where he had fallen, wondering why he didn't break his legs.

Strangely, you feel no reason to be scared as you walk up to grab the money from his hands, your hands touching. He doesn't look like the scary Assassino everyone in town makes him.

"Grazie, Messere."

Ezioo mutters "It was nothing", as you hide the bag inside your shirt this time. You feel Ezio's eye linger when your skin is exposed, but he doesn't say anything.

"He has been observing you for a while. That thief. I made sure he won't bother you anymore."

"Oh? How do you know that?"

Ezio seems to have been caught. He seems to ponder for a moment before he says slowly.

"I have been listening to you play. It is not hard to miss, since you are the best one in this city. I noticed him a couple of nights and followed him to ensure he didn't go after you. I think tonight was the night he decided to strike."

"Oh."

Ezio has been listening to you play. That's why sometimes you see an extra bag of money near your things after you gather the money from the public. But a sudden thought occurs to you.

"Have you been following me?"

"No! I just followed the thief, that is all. That hasn't been the first one as well," Ezio admits. 

Not the first one? Merda. You bite your lips, bad thoughts crossing your mind. It may be time to leave Venezia. Maybe Rome? You hear Ezio clear his throat, and you hold into the strap of your lute.

"Messere Auditore, I am in debt with you. I thank you so much for what you did. Anything you need, you can ask."

"Anything?" Ezio's tone of voice and stare almost make you regret your proposal. Almost.

"Si. Anything. I am a lutenist of my word." You sustain his stare, holding into the strap of your lute. Maybe, you shouldn't have said.

"Be my Petirosso."

"...che?"

"Come to Monteriggioni. I will ensure your safety and pay you to sing." 

You stop, checking if Ezio is being serious or not. Monteriggioni? You have heard being a small village. Getting paid to sing? It sounds like a dream, but you shake your head, thanking him.

"Grazie, but I don't think I am ready to settle just yet."

Ezio seems to nod in understanding. 

"I could make sure no one follows you. No one would steal from you if they heard you are under my protection."

"And how much would that cost me exactly?"

Ezio opens a smile before he answers.

"Solo il suono della tua voce, Petirrosso."

You think for a moment before you pull your hand to Ezio, and he gives you a bright smile, shaking it back.

-x-

You don't immediately start singing, and Ezio doesn't pressure you to which you are grateful. You notice his presence more now, for some reason, squatting down on rooftops, staring right at you. He doesn't come to talk to you when you end it, which you understand since he is a wanted man, but you can feel him following you as you get home. It makes you anxious, which, in consequence, causes you to mess up some notes in your lute. People don't notice, but you do. 

And you promised Ezio you would sing, which you don't think you can. Although you call yourself Pettirosso, you aren't the best of singers. You even attempted in the past, opening your mouth as people gasped, surprised, but no sound came out of your throat, so you ended your show earlier. You never thought you could, your voice sounding too lousy to your ears.

But you promised, and a promise is a promise. And deep down, you want to please Ezio.

You decide to resume slowly, not in public, obviously. It is a rainy afternoon, your window is open, and you have the lute in your hands. You can hear the conversations downstairs, and you close your eyes imagining yourself surrounded by people, Ezio in front of them, his eyes burning into your skin, waiting.

Your voice comes out barely a whisper at first to follow the sound of your instrument, and slowly but surely, you start getting confident, singing a little louder. Imagining how proud and stunned Ezio would look as you finally sing.

Out of your line of vision, on top of your window, Ezio has his eyes closed. He has been listening to you secretly for a while, but when your voice starts coming out in tune with your lute, Ezio flushes his eyes open as if he can hear it better.

He gets up from his squatting position, his heart beating fast against his chest as you continue. Ezio has heard the "Voice of Angel" before, but now he clearly knows what it means. A chill goes down his body as Ezio understands nothing else can sound as angelical in this world except you.

You seem to stop after a while, the sound of your lute dying down, and he wants nothing more than to go down there and hold your face in his hands and simply kiss you.

But he has to wait. He can't risk his Pettirosso to fly away. When you close your window, Ezio whispers to the night.

"Buona notte, Pettirrosso."

"Grazie mille, Signore."  = Thank you very much, Sir.

Mi chiamo Ezio. I tu? = My name is Ezio. Yours?

Cazzo= Fuck

"Solo il suono della tua voce, Petirrosso." = Just the sound of your voice, Robin.

"Buona notte, Pettirrosso." = Goodnight, Robin.

[bloop-im-a-frog-now]

If The Gods Were Kind — village pt.2

Hehe, another part!!! The 4th one this time of the world-building extravaganza. Well, it is kinda essential, but at this point, I am feeling like I’m writing a whole novel. I’m sure it’s nothing. 

Enjoy!

Master Post

— —

Content warnings: none that I can see, though, tell me if that’s not the case!

Cleo came back to entertain Scar, making sure all the monsters were leaving them alone. Bdubs then joined them, muttering how he was a great team player and wouldn’t be in the way if they'd told him what to do. Scar didn’t inquire, knowing Impulse, Tango and Etho asked Bdubs to leave them alone, much to his friend's displeasure. 

After a while of sitting, killing zombies, evading creepers and slaying phantoms, the other three finally arrived with Scar’s new mobility aids. Scar grinned and waved them where they were. Cleo stood up and dragged Bdubs away from them as Impulse presented Scar the two new fancy canes. 

They weren’t really that much fancy from the cane Impulse made, but Scar still found them astonishing. It was two oak sticks, thick enough his thumb only landed at the first phalanx of his fingers, and smooth to the touch. Just like Tango explained, there were elbow holders at the higher end of the crutches, made out of leather and there was probably wool inside to make it more comfortable. 

Scar put his cane in his inventory and placed the crutches on each side, resting his forearms on the smooth leather and gripping the handles. He tested them, walking around, evading holes, while having a big grin on his face. It felt so amazing to have people who care about him and his safety and who are ready to help him in this mysterious world. He looked back at them, noting Impulse left them, and shot them a wide grin.

“Thanks guys.”

Cleo patted his shoulder. “Anytime.”

“Yeah, if you need something else, please tell us,” Bdubs encouraged, expression open and big smile. 

Tango nodded before going back to help Etho with the crops. 

It was easier for Scar to walk, and it didn’t strain his hips and his back as much as the cane did. Phantoms still swooped in, but it let him practice switching between his cane and crutches during combat. He was still clumsy and received a lot of stings from the phantoms’ tails, luckily, Cleo always stood by his side.

Eventually, Bdubs groaned and stomped angrily. 

“Will somebody chop down that tree?!” he cried. “For goodness’ sake.”

Scar sighed, laughing. “Fine, fine, I’m working on it.”

He leaned on his cane and swung his ax, creating a dent in the trunk, before Etho elbowed him. Scar stuttered in his steps, switching immediately to his crutches for balance, and gave Etho a mock offended look. The masked man ignored him and placed dirt around the tree to protect it. 

Impulse ran, almost bumping into Scar and Bdubs. “Nobody hang out with Martyn,” he panted. Scar wondered where Impulse wandered off to come back red in the face.

He quirked an eyebrow, while Bdubs laughed. Tango slayed a phantom and patted Impulse on the back. 

“Yeah, don’t worry, he got me too.” He almost sound disappointed.

Bdubs snorted. “Yeah, it’s like a five-year-old receiving a whoopee cushion for their birthday.”

Scar wheezed at the comment, shaking his head. “A whoopee cushion,” he laughed.

While they were laughing at Martyn’s prank and his determination to scare everyone, Etho let out a chuckle.

“There, it’s been claimed. This is a historical landmark, you will not get rid of it.” 

Tango laughed after reading the sign.

“Historical landmark?!” Bdubs exclaimed, eyes wide and furious.

“We can just get saplings from the leafs, you know that?” Cleo raised an eyebrow to Etho, who glared in response.

“No one touches a historical landmark.” He made sure to burn his green and red eyes on everyone. Scar wanted to run for his life. But he also felt annoyed. “If you do, it’s a declaration of war.”

Bdubs scoffed. “As if!”

Scar wanted to point out to Bdubs that he was scared of Scar because he thought he would kill them, but knowing the man’s short temper (and short height), he simply hummed a random melody to himself. Tango let out a yelp from the sheep’s pen and groaned.

“Why are they always against me? I slept in a bed!!”

Impulse circled the tree. “We might be here for a while.” Scar had no intentions of staying here. He sat on the edge of the wheat farm, not wanting to get in the way and to relax the strain on his shoulders. “You guys seemed all cozy here, even got a sheep farm.”

“Yep!” Tango beamed. “We’re gonna—”

Etho shushed him, smacking his arm. Tango let out an “ow” and looked back at the four nervously. 

“Nothing!” he squeaked. “Nothing at all, we’re gonna make nothing at all!” he laughed nervously, rubbing his arm. 

Bdubs squinted at them.

“Oh-ho-ho, forming alliances!” He harrumphed. “I see how it goes. We let you sleep in our home, even let you guys vibe with us—”

“Yeah, I thought that was a thing,” Impulse chimed in.

“Lack of gratitude, that’s what I’m seeing!”

Phantoms screeched over them. Cleo was clearly amused by Bdubs’ tantrum and went to help Tango and Etho kill those annoying creatures. Bdubs signaled Scar to huddle up with him, which he gladly did after ignoring the ache that spread from his arms to his shoulder blades. He rolled his shoulders back, ate a piece of fish and grabbed his crutches to join his friend. Impulse also came close and Bdubs gave them shifty glances.

“I feel like there might be a natural war—”

“Oi!” Cleo called, making Bdubs yell and jump. “I wanna be in your not super secret conspiracy.”

Etho gave them an unimpressed glance. “So subtle, you guys. Didn’t seem suspicious at all.” 

Tango laughed so hard, he clutched his stomach. Bdubs’ red face crunched in anger, and Scar had a lazy smile on his face as the short man yelled at them, “really, no respect around here”. 

“Yeah, nothing about natural wars around here,” grinned Tango.

Bdubs crossed his arms. “We were not talking about natural wars!”

Etho loomed over him. “So, what were you talking about, hm?”

Bdubs stammered and Impulse cut in. “S’mores!”

“Yes!” The timekeeper pointed a finger at Etho’s chest. “We were talking about s’mores, and now I’m hungry.”

As the group laughed, Scar looked at the tree again, leaning back on his crutches. It looked very flammable. And it would piss off Etho, not that he wanted to declare war on the man. It was all in good fun, and he would still have contributed to raiding the village, just like he first planned. He glanced at Bdubs, who was still arguing, backed up by Impulse. Dawn was finally upon them, with the leave of the ginormous evil manta rays. The village was at peace at last. He smirked.

“Does anybody have a flint and steel?” he asked innocently, genuinely curious.

“Um,” Bdubs and Impulse both looked in their inventory. “No, sorry.”

Etho’s eyes widened. “Don’t you torch our village, Scar,” he warned.

“I wasn’t gonna, I was just asking,” he shrugged, trying to suppress the laughter in his voice to no avail.

Tango chuckled nervously. “Wouldn’t want the last villager to lose his home.”

Impulse sneaked past him, shoving something in his hand. It was the rough structure of a flint and steel. “Nah, it’s surely not for that.”

Etho collected some wheat, and looked beyond the village. “We were thinking about making this place more homely.”

“I think the holes make it very homely,” Cleo commented sarcastically.

“More like burning the tree down.”

At Bdubs’ mutter, Scar lighted the flint and steel, creating a flame that latched onto the tree. He snickered. He hid the flint in his inventory, a big grin on his face, even with the throbbing ache that became more prominent in his shoulders. He switched to his cane in order to put less tension on his upper body and joined Cleo and Bdubs gazing at the burning tree with mesmerized eyes.

“Uh oh,” Tango mused.

“Oh, he went there. He went there,” Cleo nodded solemnly. Scar could see her cheeky smirk.

“Oh no,” Impulse grinned.

“Etho!”

Seeing Tango and Etho struggling to die out the flames brought great amusement to Scar. He should burn things down more often. It felt great, this bubbling feeling that made his grin wider. He would cherish this new sensation, but he knew it stemmed from frustration. Not anger, no, why would he be angry? They were fighting over a tree, a dark oak tree. This was clearly fun and games. And he would add insult to injury.

“We gave them sustenance,” he started, talking with his free hand, “let them vibe with us, gave them great hospitality, and this is the thanks we get?”

“Thank you, Scar!” Bdubs exclaimed and huffed, hands on his hips.

“I feel like we felt we weren’t invited unlike when we invited you to our place,” Impulse tested the water between the two groups.

“We didn’t invite you,” Tango grumbled as he dug the cobblestone tower he made. Scar noticed even if the blazeborn sounded mad, his voice still left a cheer behind each word, as if this man was forever laughing.

“We didn’t kick you out,” Etho pointed out. “We just asked you not to steal our tree and here you are, burning it down—”

Scar snickered. 

“You immediately thought the worst of us,” Impulse chided, shaking his head.

Cleo sighed. “C’mon boys, this place clearly sucks. Let’s go find another one.”

“Yeah, we don’t want your stinky village,” Bdubs taunted.

As the group left the village, Scar lit up a few houses, just for the fun of it and because it was easier to light them without needing to hold his crutch. He couldn’t be more delighted to see such pain in Tango’s and Etho’s faces. He heard the masked man calling them invaders, raiders, but that was the least of his worries. 

He tried to catch up with the others, switching his cane to his crutches, but the iron armor made it harder for him to use his arms without the constant ache and soreness of his shoulders and upper arms. It became heavier and cumbersome, and Scar just wanted to take it off. He was then reminded of the zombie and skeleton encounter and decided to keep it on and push through the ache.

<- Prev _ Master Post _ Next ->

[stoportotouch]

PLEASE tell me about the lieutenantcules kids

ohoho i would Love to

they end up having two, james frederick (little and hodgson) and katherine "kate" alexandria (irving and hodgson). (obviously hodge is transmasc here.) james is born in january 1849 and kate is born in july 1850. They Were Busy, is what i'm suggesting here. (behold my lovely spreadsheet, because i can't keep track of these people otherwise.)

since this is The One Where Doctor MacDonald Survives, he is also the one to deliver both of them. (which is great because hodgson doesn't fancy explaining all that whatnot to a new doctor.) this later becomes a great advantage in that it prevents hodgson from Fucking Dying having kate.

lots of Stuff below the cut, because i have a lot to say about these childen as it turns out.

james is named after fitzjames and fairholme (and also edward's older brother james cornelius) and also after fred hornby. after he's born, hodgson (slightly high on Fun Victorian Narcotics, as was the fashion at the time) suggests calling him "james james". this is not necessarily unfitting considering that he is named after the man so james that they called him it twice but get Vetoed.

james is one of those "started talking late but once he started he never stopped again" neurodivergent kids, and his Personality is basically the same as hodgson's. (this includes The Neurodivergence. he would be diagnosed with autism and adhd if this was the 21st century.) this eventually leads him to join the diplomatic corps, for some reason.

he is basically hodgson's software on little's hardware in that he looks and physically acts basically exactly like little but with some of hodgson's pointy features. he... is short. (just barely taller than little when he's full grown.) partly because, as you can see, april of 1848 isn't that long after they were rescued.

but also little is short and in a short family, and hodgson is alone in his immediate family in being tall. (or rather, he was objectively tall pre-transition. he got bumped down to Just Below Average Height by the simple expedient of cutting his hair.)

james was also The World's Most Difficult Baby, again because he was born to somebody who was still kind of recovering from scurvy and definitely recovering from lead poisoning. this is literally just because the "thank god we're alive" came back LONG before the... actual intelligence did. (it also fucked hodgson's hip up for the rest of his life.)

for the first year or so james does Not like not being held, wakes up at just about every noise or External Stimulus and has colic. then around his first birthday he suddenly just goes like "hm, no more of that, thanks" and starts walking. which completely fixes all the other problems. (he still doesn't start talking until quite a while after kate.)

the not talking does give his Dads pause until james cornelius mentions when he visits that edward didn't talk until he was about seven. thus when james starts talking when he's about five or six this seems to explain everything. (one difference: when edward started talking he seemed to do so unwillingly and never talked much. james starts and then never stops for the rest of his life. this is presumably hodgson's genetics kicking in.)

as i mentioned earlier. katherine (or kate) is hodgson and irving's kid, which is just... a fascinating combination of personalities to cross-pollinate. she's named after katherine irving, who is irving's sister-in-law (and also one of his best friends), and also after alexander macdonald.

katherine irving is an obvious person to name her after, especially since irving is a bit glum about not being able to tell his family about Having Kids, on account of The Circumstances. but naming his kid after her is the next best thing (especially when he had always promised her Godmother Rights if he had kids). alexandria is, obviously, after doctor macdonald. it seems like the least they can do since he stops hodgson from dying. (kate is completely fine.)

kate is like. the world's most chill baby, and also the pregnancy is far physically/psychologically easier on hodgson than james was. most of the issue the first time was the combination of "the unknown" and like. Gender Stuff. the latter of these still gets to him from time to time with kate but far more mildly and he feels more able to talk about it. (because he was pregnant with james while little was recovering from a brain injury and irving was recovering from being stabbed. as i said, they were not especially bright in this regard.)

as i said earlier, having james when he was still recovering fucks up hodgson's hip for the rest of his life. this actually doesn't lead to what happens with kate but it probably doesn't help. (kate is also a far larger baby, since irving is tall and quite broad when he isn't malnourished, and from quite a tall family.) long story short doctor macdonald figures out that hodgson isn't just sore/tired and a bit high and hodgson gets an emergency hysterectomy out of it.

hodgson later suggests, once everybody has recovered from the shock of "partner/other father of our kids/friend just nearly bled to death", that they call her stephanie. you know, because of doctor stanley (who in fairness he did get on really well with. world's oddest friendship, or not really considering that when we see doctor stanley make attempts at Bedside Manner it's basically hodgson through a filter of irony poisoning).

little and irving haven't even talked about it and irving is kind of... avoiding it all (he does with both births but hodgson only particularly wants little with him. not for any particularly Personal reason irving's energy is just too jumpy for a sick-room). hodgson does suggest that he be there when kate is born because he knows what to expect now and they're All a bit further out from The Initial Arctic Trauma. irving says no, which turns out to be the right decision because he spends about a week having a panic attack.

they decide on a full name for her very quickly. (both of them have hodgson's surname, just to avoid any questions. this doesn't actually avoid questions with james because he looks like little.)

kate looks basically exactly like hodgson did as a kid, which is really weird for him (and also makes him a bit more protective of her than he was expecting to be). it's doubly weird that she also acts exactly like he did. as an adult she ends up looking like hodgson but a girl/with irving's tone of voice and way of speaking. (she's also about six foot tall fully grown.) basically she looks like this leyendecker painting.

she basically acts like hodgson would if he didn't have... The Problems. which can be extremely annoying but also it's great for her; she's assertive in a way that neither of her Dads could ever manage in addition to being at least book-intelligent. (she isn't people-intelligent.) she fortunately doesn't pick up irving's anxiety (or his compulsions) but she does get his Maths Brain.

she and hodgson still bond over music but she's very into like. Finding The Right Answer so he gets her into bach. this works excellently. she eventually ends up with his ancient copy of gradus ad parnassum that he's scribbled in over the course of a few decades. she is far better at bach chorale harmonisations than he is. (or rather, she picks it up far quicker.)

-----

on the subject of their families: some of little's family know but this is limited to james cornelius (Gay Uncle, beloved by both james and kate for all their lives), and little's sister margaret anne (and her husband, john). margaret and john don't particularly get it but also "aw, nieces and nephews" (and margaret likes hodgson). they look after james when kate is born.

hodgson... basically does not talk at all to his family, honestly. his dad died in 1844 (literally right before he met irving. like he was going through all that while they were having a really complicated Situationship that ended with irving trying to ghost him but not being emotionally able to) and while he used to get on with his mother... not so much any more.

if he hadn't had kids then he would probably have gritted his teeth with at least two of his siblings (beilby porteus and mary) and at least tried to have more of a relationship with them. but then as soon as he has james he's just like, "yeah my family are never getting near our kids", and kate being born (and everything around that) cements that in his mind.

he uh. i have so much to say about his relationship with his oldest sister, henrietta mildred. but the summary as it pertains to this is "he is still stuck at the level of a very scared seven-year-old where she is concerned and she is stuck at the level of a very miserable nineteen-year-old where he is concerned." they could probably talk it out. it would actually be beneficial. but they literally never will.

-----

further on Family Dynamics (and also a bit about Victorian Class Dynamics):

hodgson is a good amount younger than his siblings (or than his surviving siblings). he's one of five that survived to adulthood and he's ten years younger than the next one up which means that he was basically an only child but that his parents had forgotten everything about babies and toddlers. so like, Victorian Ideas About The Child, Multiplied By Ten Thousand.

he was also completely unexpected and while not quite unwanted he was far more handed off to nurse and then nanny than his older siblings as a kid. and then he went away to a boarding school aged thirteen, joined the navy at the age of fifteen, and basically never came back again. (until post-franklin-expedition.)

so he thinks that little, whose family mostly still live together and see each other as often as they can, has a really weird relationship with his parents and siblings. little is not going to argue this because he's sure he'll find something awful if he scratches the surface. also hodgson isn't going to press the issue because uh. little came home to discover that his mother had died a couple of months before they were rescued. so he doesn't want to cause any further Hurt.

little does, though, feel really weird about handing the kids off to nannies and nurses and governesses. (he's one of twelve from a family which was upwardly mobile but still working-ish class. they could not afford all that whatnot.) he still ends up getting on very well with the nurse they find, who they keep employing after james is born. this turns out to be a good thing when kate is born, because of The Circumstances.

[beautifullydisconnected]

Love Letters

Joshua Hong x Reader

Friends to Lovers

Word Count: 1562

TW: None

Honestly I haven’t written in a hot minute. Let me know what you think. 

He was the first boy you ever loved. You don’t know when it happened or when it happened but you were in love with him. Joshua had been your friend since birth. Your moms had met in the hospital during a regular check up and ended up giving birth a few days apart. After that the two of you did everything together. From extra circulars in school to volunteering at the same old folks home in high school. You had followed each other everywhere, that is until now. Here you are at his going away party. 

You knew Joshua was always meant for greater things, then what the world around him had to offer, he was going to Korea to pursue his dream, and you were so excited for him. You had known for a while that he was planning on leaving, but that didn’t make being here any easier. You removed yourself from the crowds, and sat by the pool, dangling your feet in the water, trying to process all of your emotions. You were so lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t even hear when someone came and sat down beside you. 

“Penny for your thoughts,” his voice startling you out of your trance. 

“You scared the crap out of me,” you gasped clutching your chest. 

“Sorry. What’s got you so lost in thought?” His eyes focused on the water in front of you. 

“Just thinking about how much is changing, and I’m not sure I like it.” You look at Joshua, his head turning to you. His eyes have always been your favourite feature of his. They have always felt like home to you. You break the stare and move your focus back to the party beyond the edge of the pool. “We should probably get back to your party,” you get up, holding your hand out to him, and he takes it. Pulling him up, he keeps his hand locked in yours swinging it back and forth as you walk to the party.  You stay by his side the rest of the night trying to take in as much of him as you can before he leaves. 

*Five Years Later*

*You’ve reached Cynthia leave a message after the beep*

“Hi Cynthia, I am on my way to the office. Sorry for running late, there was a huge accident on the highway. I’m five minutes out.” You hang up your phone and take a few more turns before pulling into the parking lot. You grab your bags, and the coffee order your boss had you pick up. 

Just as you round the corner you bump into someone, spilling coffee all over yourself, the floor and the person you just ran into. 

“Shit. So sorry,” You’re trying to fix yourself, and quickly put down the coffee and try to grab whatever napkins you can find in your bag. Just as you go to hand a napkin to the person a sense of familiarity washes over you. You look up and meet the eyes of the man who used to feel like home standing in front of you. “Joshua,” you whisper. 

The last time you had seen Joshua was five years ago in the airport before he left. You had kept in touch for a while but between the time differences and both of your hectic schedules talking became less unless until it turned to happy birthdays, and then eventually radio silence. You never thought you would lose touch with Joshua, but you knew he had a new life and you were no longer apart of it. There had been times where you had wanted to reach out and tell him the exciting news about getting into your dream program, or the internship you had talked about throughout high school. No matter how many months or years passed he was still the one you wanted to share your good news with, but instead you settled for writing letters you’d never send. Like when you got your job at the magazine you had always dreamed of working at.

LETTER #5

Dear Joshua, 

I know we haven’t talked in a while, but you’re still the person I want to tell all my good news to. You were such an important part of my life for so long that it only feels right to tell you. I know your life is crazy, I watched some of your stuff online. I knew you were always meant for great things. I am so incredibly proud of you and this new life you’re living. I guess we’re both living our dreams, as I just got my first ever position at Vogue. I mean its nothing major, mostly I’m a glorified intern, but I’m here. Anyways, I hope life is well for you. I’ll always be cheering you on from the sidelines. 

Much love, 

Y/N

“Hey Y/N long time no see,” his smile was still the same. Warm, and welcoming. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked confused, but also so happy to see him. 

“I have a schedule here in the states for my group,” He took the napkin you were now handing him and dabbing the few specks of coffee from his chest and arms. “I didn’t realized you worked here. My mom said you were working for a magazine, but I didn’t realize you landed at your dream place, congratulations.” He pulls you into a hug, and for the first time in a long time you feel like you were welcomed home. 

“Thanks, your mom told me you were coming back but I didn’t realize she meant here. It’s so amazing to see you again. But I have to run, I’m already late. We should definitely catch up if you have time in your busy life. Text me.” You fix yourself up and speed walk to the elevator. 

As you step off the elevator your phone buzzes, you think its your manager but its from a number you don’t recognize. You open it and a smile spreads across your face. 

*It was great seeing you Y/N. I have free time tonight if you’re available.*

You respond back with the time you get off and a cozy bar just down the road from your office. The day flew by after the chaotic morning you had. Meetings went smoothly, the layout, and column s came together for the next months print. As you pack up you can’t help but feel nervous about seeing Joshua again. You know there isn’t anything to be nervous about, but you can’t help the rush of butterflies you get when you see him sitting in a booth when you arrive. 

He’s on his phone unaware that you’re there, you take that time to admire him. He’s grown so much, his face has filled out and looks more “manly” than it did when he left all those years ago. His eyes are still the same, warm, welcoming, home. He’s definitely been working out his shoulders are wider, and his arms more defined than they were. He smiles as he looks up to see you approaching. He pushes himself out of the booth to wrap you in a hug again, and shuffles in across from. 

As you sit across from each other catching up it feels as though no time has passed. You laugh at the stupid things you did as kids. Discuss what you both have been up to the past five years. Joshua talks about his group, and the difference between the American and Korean music industry. Listening to him talk about his life brings you so much job. You always knew he was going to be something, and you’re so glad to see that he is getting the love and recognition he deserves. You sit in that both for hours, it isn’t until the server comes up and asks if there is anything you want, as it is last call. Once you’ve settled your bills, and make your way outside you part ways promising to keep in touch. 

When you get home you can’t help but smile at your night. Joshua is still the same boy he always has been. He hasn’t lost himself to the entertainment industry, and you could see his genuine love for his fans and his members. You send him a quick text to let him know that you got home, and that you promise that you’ll be better about staying in touch. 

LETTER #17 

Joshua, 

There are so many things I wish I could say to you right now, but I think I fall more in love with you every time I see you, which is weird as I hadn’t seen you in five years. You have grown up so much, and the way you speak about life is so enthralling. I cannot wait to see what the future holds for you. 

Love you always, 

Y/N

As you go to sleep you have a smile on your face, and a feeling like all is right in the world. The next morning you wake up to hundreds of notifications from every social media platform you’re on. You go to open it and the first thing you see is a news headline and a photo of you and Joshua in a hug, with the title KPOP RISING STAR SEEN WITH NEW LOVE INTEREST?

“Shit.”