#(at least I hope it is when I share more of it with posts in the future ( ´Д｀)=3)

[blissfullsvn]

if i say, i love you

summary. after a long day, all you really want is to be in taesan’s arms.

pairing. han taesan x reader genre. fluff, established relationship word count. 0.9k warnings. n/a a/n. fun fact: this wasn’t the original taesan fic i wanted to post for his bday bcs stms it’s easier to write sth in 3 hrs than finish a draft you’ve had for the past 5 months 👩‍🦯 but as always, please enjoy this, and i hope everyone gets to have their own taesan in their lives :) masterlist

you and taesan have never been overly touchy with each other. it’s not that you both dislike physical touch; you just tend to express your feelings more often through quiet moments spent together.

today, however, you need taesan more than ever.

you trudge inside your shared apartment, your body feeling unbearably heavy. taesan is sitting on the sofa with headphones and his ipad propped up on his knees, a contemplative look on his face. it’s a familiar sight, one that occurs whenever a new idea for a composition strikes in his head and he has to record it down immediately, so you usually leave him alone to not disrupt his creative process.

seeing this, you force yourself to stand by the door, hoping for at least a greeting before you can retreat inside your room—if your boyfriend was busy, you’d rather break down without him seeing.

almost immediately, taesan looks up and smiles, the kind where his eyes are squeezed into crescents and whiskers appear under them. but when he finally sees you, he instantly plants his feet on the floor, setting his ipad aside and ripping off his headphones.

“y/n?” his voice is soft and gentle. he always treats you like a delicate flower; it makes you feel like you can fall apart in his presence and he’ll be there to pick up your pieces.

“y/n,” he calls again, and he’s about to get up before you briskly walk towards him and all but jump on him.

with your knees on either side of him, you wrap your arms around his neck and drop your head on his shoulder. noticeably, taesan tenses at the uncharted touch, and a moment of hesitation lingers. but his arms quickly shoot up to envelop you, hands resting firmly on either side of your torso as he holds you tightly against himself.

he remains silent, letting you take in his warmth as he gently caresses your back. you nuzzle against his neck, wanting to get as close to him as you can. despite his surprise at your touch, he doesn’t make it known and mirrors your actions, nosing your collarbone as he pulls you even closer.

you thought you would break into tears immediately in his arms, but the more you lean into his touch, the more you feel your weariness dissipate, until the huge lump in your throat eventually melts as well.

sensing your breathing calm down and your body turning lax against his, he places a kiss on your neck and whispers against your skin: “i’m here.” it’s a simple declaration; two words that neither push you to speak nor stop you from sharing, but just to remind you that, whatever it is, he’s always by your side.

“i… had a bad day today,” you begin, and taesan’s hold on you never once falters. as you tell him about what happened, his fingers continuously draw idle circles on your back, and he hums softly to reassure you that he’s listening.

“how do you feel now?” taesan, gentle as ever, asks after you stop talking.

“...a lot better,” you confess and nuzzle against his neck again, landing a peck there to emphasize your point.

“i’m glad.” the smile is evident from his voice alone, even if you can’t see his face.

a few more moments of silence pass between you, the two of you simply relishing each other’s company. it’s only when you catch taesan’s ipad light up with a notification from your peripheral vision that you remember what he had been doing before your almost-break-down.

you pull yourself away, but your hands remain on his shoulders, as do his on your waist. “you were composing something before this, right?” your eyebrows are knitted in guilt, lips jutting out similarly. “sorry, i didn’t mean to interrupt you… you can continue now.”

“no, don’t apologise,” taesan replies immediately, shaking his head. he reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ears and smiles, fondness seeping from every pore, “i’ll always put you before anything else.”

it’s strange how the emotions you initially expected to spill over from your negative experiences today are now threatening to escape from these seven words instead. with the lump returning to your throat once again, you don’t trust your voice to speak.

instead, you move your hands to cup his face and lean down to place your lips on his, letting your body do the talking instead.

with every movement, your feelings translate from your heart to his. his grip on your waist tightens as he cranes his neck to capture more and more of these feelings, until both of you are rendered breathless from all the emotions filling your bodies, squeezing around your ribs, your lungs, and your hearts.

when you pull away, the dazed look on taesan is something that you want to carve into your mind forever. for someone who’s never uncomposed, the fact that he’s been rendered like this, and because of you, makes your insides twist with something far greater than you can explain.

“i love you.”

for now, you’ll settle with the word ‘love.’

© blissfullsvn 2024. All Rights Reserved.

[jayhyunglover]

Send my love to your next lover

Zayne x non mc! Reader (reader is Zayne's wife )

Synopsis: you've been married to Zayne since 2 years now but you knew you weren't the one he longed for . You weren't her and you will never be.

Zayne's hand tapped restlessly against the steering wheel , eyes flickering from time to time to the bouquet of spider lilies on his passenger seat . They were your favorite when he asked why you said it was because they symbolized Goodbye and that you always end up saying Goodbye to the things you loved the most.

He really hoped this would pull out a smile from you at least . You've been distant those days , argument after arguments piled up combined with his busy schedule who didn't make things easier but he promised himself he'd make it up to you. Tonight at last.

When he finally pulled in your shared house hallway he hastily got out the car , grabbing the bouquet of flowers to make his way inside but strangely every lights were off.

Haven't you came back from work already? His eyebrows furrowed in confusion

Opening the front door he called out for your ne but no response came. He was starting to get worried, searching frantically through the house but there were no trace of you anywhere.

No this couldn't be . You couldn't have left him. You would never right?

But as he stood in the painfully empty house even him was starting to doubt his own words.

Losing hope he plopped himself down on the couch, running a nervous hand through his hair when the corner of his caught a faint glow

Your wedding ring.

Zayne abruptly picked it up on the coffee table . It was resting against a pile of papers.

What the hell are those ? He fiddled with the papers. Eyes scanning over them

No no no this couldn't be.

Opening the letter his eyes bulged out of his sockets ,heart dropping in his stomach.

"I am giving you up."

No hubby , no my lil snowman no nothing straight to the point

"You weren't mine in the first place, even if I was the one you wake up with every morning,  your heart belongs to her . Even if I was the one you spent time with , your heart longed for her.

I am not sad , do not worry . I knew what I signed up for .

Be happy Dr Zayne with your Jasmine,  your love and I'll be happy with my freedom. Even if my heart will always belong to you at least now I won't have to look at you and wish I was someone else.

I am giving you up and forgive it all. So please set me free.

Goodbye Dr Zayne, be happy and send my love to your next lover ."

                      Your dear (ex) wife.

Zayne felt the bile rising up his throat.

This has to be a joke , some prank. You'd never leave like that , not after all this time. You made vows , he vowed to keep you safe , protect you , love you. He couldn't send your love to his next lover because there wouldn't be any.

You were always the one , even when he makes you feel like you weren't. He always knew deep down.

He didn't even realize at first he was crying just small droplets falling on the paper blurring his vision.

True you will never be his Jasmine because you were so much more, his wife , his love. Sure you weren't his first but you will always be his last , there won't be any next lover to send your love to.

Tag list: @mangooes @jinwoosbabyboo

------------------------------------

A/N: I am procrastinating so much on his Snow White fic that I had to post something to make up for it.

Also I couldn't stop listening to Send my love by Adele and Zayne angst is my favorite snack soooooo. (Eat up y'all)

[corawithfanfiction]

Hi! Would you ever consider do anything that was Aaron Taylor Johnson x reader? (his celeb self I mean.) Maybe something like they’re working on a movie together (y/n is younger) and get to be friends and then something transpires between them? Ahh!!

Aaron Taylor-Johnson x Fem!Reader (Young Actress Reader - Request)

My Materialist

warning: claustrophobia, age difference, dirty language, nickname, divorce, coworker, action scene, car accident, creep, expectation.

summury: You're doing test shoots for action scenes with the lead of your new movie. You always thought you were like a sister to her until you find out that he is now a single man.

(2632 word)

Ask for permission before quoting or translating!

Hope you like it sweetie, I try the write as soon as possible :) @smallmarvel

It was one of the new weeks in your new project. The reading rehearsals had been over for a few days. But post-production had taken a long time. Or maybe it's because it's your biggest project and you've never experienced this kind of crew and work discipline before.

The cast had been in camp for months and all of them had been working out constantly to change their bodies for their roles. In the last days you have been working on your choreography. Your screen time would be about fifteen to twenty minutes, but the opportunity to work with such a cast made it all worthwhile.

You had two fight scenes, one big and one small. Although it wouldn't be right to call them both fights. Generally the bad guys were chasing you and our hero was there for you, but there were still moves you had to memorize.

When you first read the script, you thought that since it was an escape scene, it wouldn't challenge you and you would just run. But it wasn't like that. You had to jump, jump, sometimes crawl and even fight one-on-one. To make the scene more realistic, you were choreographed to fight for your life. At first you hated it, but once you learned the moves and started doing them much faster, you started to enjoy it.

Today was the day of the test shoot.

It was the first time you and the rest of the crew would act out the scenes together. Of course you had all met each other. You had rehearsed readings, the director had organized some nights for you all to get along better. One of them was a movie night where you watched some of the old crappy horror movies. It was a milestone day when you couldn't be afraid to laugh and you started to feel comfortable around each other as a team. Another night was a silent movie night. It was through events like these that you formed good friendships.

Aside from being friends with the crew and spending time together, today was the first day you were going to be in front of the camera. And it was for the fight scene. You were the last name in the cast and you were the least famous of them all. In direct proportion to that, you were not the main female character of the movie, but all your scenes were with the hero of the movie, the leading male character. Aaron Taylor-Johnson, who is going to save you from the bad guys in today's the test shoot.

Aaron was a very funny and kind man. He would come to your workouts to make you feel comfortable, give you feedback and often praise you on how well you were doing. In addition to these interactions, he was usually quiet on set. He would share a laugh with certain people, but he was very kind to the whole set and the staff. A true English gentleman.

When you arrived on set, you put on something comfortable. Leggings, a sports bra that covers your breasts and makes the whole action scene easier for you, and a loose t-shirt with the logo of your favorite band. Since it was a test shoot, you were wearing air force sneakers. You were determined to at least make this test as comfortable as possible until the main shoot.

Aaron came into the field right behind you. He was similarly dressed in comfortable clothes. He arrived in gray sweatpants and a basic t-shirt. They rocked back and forth with their hands in their pockets, talking to the director about the scene. You'd have to be blind not to notice the movement of his muscles with each sway…You reminded yourself that you were a married man and tried to focus on your scene.

After he finished talking to the director, he came up to you and said, “Good morning, baby.” He pulled you into a hug. You knew he gave you that nickname because of the age difference. You reminded yourself that there was nothing to be excited about and accepted his hug.

When he pulled back, with an energetic smile on his face, he asked, “Are you ready for today?” His smile must have been contagious because you were smiling back. “As much as I can,” you replied, shaking your legs - in a pose as if you were about to run a marathon.

His grin was still on his face. “We'll try not to push you too hard today, but we still want to go through all the scenes. But if there's any scene or movement that makes you uncomfortable, we'll definitely stop shooting,” he explained with great care. You had to admit that you were very lucky to be working with someone so kind and understanding. “Thanks Aaron, I really appreciate it, but I don't think we'll have any problems, we've been rehearsing these moves for weeks.” You reassured him. “Honey, the shot might feel different though, remember to stop if you have trouble.” He insisted. “I promise I will stop the scene if it feels uncomfortable,” you reassured him. All the while trying not to get hung up on the new nickname...

The first test shoot went quite well. The more complicated scene was next, but you decided to do it tomorrow. Or rather your director decided so. This decision was made because he wanted to shoot tomorrow with full make-up and clothes. Because it is necessary to decide whether the costumes in the movie will cause any problems in the scene and choreography and what precautions should be taken if necessary. So tomorrow you will enter the set as if you are shooting the first scene of the movie. Lights, camera, makeup, hair, costume… Everything you can think of will be prepared. To be honest, you're very excited about it.

But this was tomorrow's subject, today's subject and a new movie night. The leading lady of your movie had invited everyone who was doing a test shoot today to a movie night at her house because her house was quite close to the set.

You decided to change at the set before going back to the hotel and go with Aaron. Because he had arrived by car and you didn't want to waste time looking for a taxi.

The ride was peacefully silent until the sound of Aaron's cell phone connected to the car filled the air. “Excuse me, this is important. If you don't mind-” As soon as I saw the word lawyer appear on the screen, I said, ”No, no, please. I don't mind at all.”

When he picked up the phone, the loud, booming voice of the lawyer on the other end filled the car. “Hey, buddy, how you doing?” Aaron's fingers were turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. His grip on the steering wheel was tighter than it had been since he'd called the lawyer. “Please give me some good news Kev,” his lawyer, Kev - you probably think it was Kevin - noticed Aaron's nervousness and started to chuckle. “Relax man, you're a single man now. Sam accepted the deal and signed all the papers. Congratulations man, enjoy your new life.” Aaron let out a deep breath at the sound of the phone hanging up. “I'm sorry this is really-” before you could finish the sentence Aaron's laughter filled the car and you heard him say something like 'oh shit' but you didn't dwell on it. His happiness was contagious and the awkward silence in the car was gone.

You couldn't say the same about movie night, though. They had chosen a really terrible movie this time and you were constantly screaming and disturbing the whole crew. One or two people who were really enjoying the movie were a bit annoyed by this, but the crew was having a lot of fun with your reactions.

When the lead role was finally placed alive in the coffin, you felt your breath catch in your throat. “I think I-” the incoherent words came out so quietly that no one even realized you were about to have an attack of claustrophobia. As soon as you started to fidget on the couch, an arm grabbed you around the waist and pulled you towards him. You couldn't see who it was in the dark room. With one hand still on your waist, he grabbed your neck with his free hand and held you against his chest. You immediately inhaled the familiar scent. You relaxed yourself in the safety of the warmth. “Shh, calm down doll, I'm here.” His low voice and the sound of him moving around your waist were enough to calm your nerves. But his lips barely touching your ear sent a shiver down your spine. You were about to remind yourself that this was wrong when you remembered that he was now a single man.

When you arrived on set, you went straight to your trailer for makeup. While you were lost in the memories of yesterday, your makeup was finished and your hair was being done.

Shortly after the movie ended, you and Aaron said goodbye to your friends and left. You were staying in the same hotel, so you went on the car ride together again. He made fun of you a little during the ride and finally you agreed to watch a comedy movie together. When you arrived at the hotel, he insisted on escorting you to your room even though your rooms were not on the same floor.

After opening the door to your room, you wished each other good night. Before you parted, you shared another hug. It was the longest hug you had ever shared. Sure, it was a minute hug, but it usually lasted no more than a few seconds and no, every time you hugged Aaron you didn't calculate how long it lasted. “Good night, baby,” he whispered in your ear as his hand circled your back. Then he left after leaving a vague kiss on your burn.

While your hair was being done, you were drowning in memories. You told yourself you were exaggerating, after all, he always called you baby. You were like his little brother, that's what you had been telling yourself for weeks, except you didn't know then that he was about to get divorced and that he was now a single man. Yes, there was an age difference, but it wasn't twenty years. You were just a couple years younger.

You came out of your daydream with Aaron's voice. “Hello baby,” he winked at your image in the mirror. ‘Good morning Aaron,’ you smiled. When you were called from inside to put on your costumes, you waved “See you in a minute” and headed towards the cabin. After changing your clothes, you took one last look at your image in the mirror and went to the set area. It wasn't a superhero movie so there were no weird tights and uncomfortable costumes. It was a chase scene where you would be chased by the 'bad guys' after you left work and then it would take place on the streets of the city. He was wearing tight fabric pants, a white shirt and stilettos. When the scene first started you would run in heels. Then you could switch to sneakers because they would not be visible in the camera angles. But neither the shoes nor the shirt made you unhappy. The only thing that bothered you was the lacy bra. You were looking for the comfort of your sports bra from the day before.

On the director's orders, you started the test shoot. You came out of your model building, realized you were being followed while walking down the street and jumped into the first taxi you saw. The team chasing you rear-ends your taxi with the car they are driving and you get stuck in the vehicle. At this moment, Aaron arrives and performs the fight scene with the men chasing you. After he rescues you from your trapped position, you take him by the hand and run together. At this point you were planning to change your shoes but you didn't want to stop shooting and you wondered how long you could go on.

After all, it was a test shoot. If you failed, you wouldn't try something like this next time. As you ran hand in hand, your heel caught on some fake stones. As Aaron checked you were okay, you gave him a sign that you could continue. As you continued your scene, you realized that the shoe was hurting you now. And the more you stepped, the more it hurt. But you were still shooting and you didn't want to give up on the first try.

You squeezed the hand that Aaron was holding. Immediately he turned to you and a low whimper of “Aaron,” escaped your lips. He immediately checked you with his eyes and tried to figure out what was wrong. “I don't think I can go on in these heels much longer,” As he was about to signal the director to stop the scene, he shook his hand once more and said, “Please don't stop the scene, we are almost finished. I don't want it to be cut because of me.” As you were quickly looking for a solution, the camera was coming towards you from the backstage area.

As you wondered what to do, you felt yourself being swept off your feet. As you let out a little scream of surprise, you could tell that your director was enjoying the moment and was pleased with the image that was being captured on camera. Aaron embraced you bridal style. And he was running towards the area where your final scene would take place. “What are you doing!” you whispered after your astonishment had subsided a little. “I couldn't let you writhe in pain Y/N,” she said, giving you an angry look. “Oh, I thought you would enjoy watching me writhe in pain…” you snapped.

When you got to where you needed to be, he took you off his lap and you did the moves you had memorized for your scene. With the fake explosion planned on the set, you ducked down and crawled together to where you were supposed to hide. The camera went back to filming the extras fighting. You had time to lie down for a few minutes.

You tried to forget the pain in your feet as you lay on your back where you were crawling. You were a little stressed by the narrow space you were in, but your breathing was regular.

As the shouting and explosions continued in the background, Aaron crawled to where you were. Since you had decided to lie on your back, he was now standing over you, leaning on his elbows. He never took his eyes off your eyes for a moment. “I enjoy you squirming Y/N” he said, and you realized that he had returned to the previous conversation. “But I'll make sure it won't be in pain.” Your breath began to betray you as his gaze slid to your lips. He leaned in even more, closing the distance between you a little more. “But I will also show you that we are away from the cameras,” his words sent a shiver down your spine and a warmth to your core.

He immediately noticed when you involuntarily squeezed your legs together. He leaned down until his lips touched your earlobe before leaving his spot for his scene. “I knew you were made for me, baby.” He said. And he left his location to continue shooting. Leaving you there to daydream with all your wetness and anticipation.

TAG LIST:

@kyancat @ivyblue20-blog @chlodavids @chilombodragon @agirlwithmanytastes @polamtz @novaawayne @theofficialpimpworld @buymesomechickentenders @devilslittlehelper @ohadberger @whatis-much @666kpopfan @sunnysomeonesworld @blazingfox23 @ilovethelove-sweetcat-blog @zulema222 @ijustwannaread03 @flyboysgotme @peachcheeksss @daddys-girlie @al-whatever @imabooknerdgetoverit @chocolatestudentllamabanana @valenftcrush @sinfullypassionate @intaerestelares @lauren555 @harlowhockeystick @bigbadbmattyboy @adrianapetrova538 @princesssunderworld @kozmosambrose @memeisbeingcheeky @iamstillovingyou

[kingofthering-two]

Hi guys, Maïna / kingofthering here. You might have heard or noticed that I got my account terminated yesterday (and had the joy to discover you don’t just lose your sideblog but all the blogs associated with your account).

What happened? As I mentioned last week, I received my 2nd strike for copyright infringement on the 11th of December and I protested it (sent a DMCA counter notice) on the 12th. Tumblr forwarded the counter notice to the claimant on the 16th, leaving them 10 business days to answer before I could get the strike taken away and the content restored. Unfortunately, yesterday, on the 19th, I received my third strike and it came with the termination of my account. 

How is it fair that tumblr lets you receive a new strike so soon after the precedent one, when you couldn’t even have the time to finish fighting the first one? I legitimately don’t know. I’ve tried to contact them about this but they don’t treat the messages since it’s coming from a terminated account. I think I need to send the message with another email address, which I might do later.

Could my account come back? In theory, from what I’ve read online, yes, but that remains to be seen from my end for me to be completely sure of that. My only current hope is for the blog to reappear when I get my first and second strikes removed (the first is from January but I never thought of fighting it before because it was videos so I thought they didn’t stand a chance but now I genuinely believe the type of content doesn’t matter). 

In September, there were 14 days between the counter notice being sent and me getting my content back (10 business days + weekends) and I suppose we might have to take into account Christmas here. I think that in the best case scenario, I might hear from tumblr on the 30th of December, maybe the 31st.

What now? I briefly considered using this as a (forced) break from tumblr. I tried to have one earlier this year and failed miserably. I think that the older I get, the less patience and tolerance I have for things that annoy me (and get past the filtering system) (but also things outside of tumblr, seeing my gifs get reposted to twitter, something that happened again recently, really annoys the fuck out of me). But, at the end of the day, the good outweighs the bad (annoying) far much, when it comes to this website and this community. If I check my tumblr app screentime on my phone, I might cry at how bad it is. I do want to finish the projects I have ongoing (the RPF survey answers will be studied and treated and shared) and keep in touch with everything happening on here.

I’m going to use this current account to browse tumblr at least until the end of the year. I’ve already seen glimpses of stories that I need to catch up on and I’ve seen you guys being very supportive already (thank you) so I felt like making myself reachable here was better. Posting wise, I’ll probably post about things that I know are safe i.e. things of my own (stats, my progress on the 2025 journals) and gifs of things not coming from Dorna (e.g. reels/tiktoks, podcast videos).

What then? The only thing I can tell you for sure is that no matter what happens next, I’m going to create an archive blog on a separate account (with a dedicated email address). This blog will not have posts of its own but only reblogs of content I originally posted on kingofthering. If I can have my old account back, the job will be made much easier (and will obviously be more complete). If not, I’ll have to rely on a lot of research to get things back as best as I can. Don’t worry about this for now, I’m going to wait until I know for sure about my old account to start the process (since the method will be very different depending on the answer on that).

For 2025, we will see. The thing is, even if I get my account back, I know that I will keep getting strikes (even if I’m not posting anything because old posts of mine have been targeted as well) and honestly, even if fighting them works, it’s both stressful and exhausting. Also, people have been winning the battles against the strikes for now but who knows how long that will last.

And like I mentioned, it’s a sideblog connected to all my other blogs which also depend on kingofthering’s faith. That includes my main blog that I’ve had since 2011 (I don’t use it much but I use it to keep all the useful stuff like the photoshop tutorials, writing prompts, etc), my hockey sideblog (not been using it much either lately but it does have some history I’d like to keep) and a bunch of others.

A solution to keep those other accounts safe would probably be to move everything motorsports related to a new account (maybe this one if I can get my main back) and delete the original kingofthering. It would pain me because of the history of this blog and what I would lose in the process (mostly the asks I haven’t gotten to answer and obviously the following that I had grown but I suppose that I can grow back little by little). It would also mean I couldn’t see anymore the posts in my notes and the tags people add to their reblogs (which is like half the purpose of posting in the first place) and that’s annoying as well but I suppose I could grieve that too, in theory.

If I don’t even get the account back, well. I talk about creating a new dedicated account but if it also gets striked (which I suppose will happen), it will be equally exhausting to fight fo it so, I don’t even know if I want to do that.

At this point, I know which content is safe for sure (or what has been safe so far for me) and there are still a lot of stuff that I enjoy sharing with you and getting your opinion on but giffing race weekends was the major part of my blog and I don’t know how I feel about giving that up. Anyway, much thoughts to have still.

Can you do something to help? I don’t think so. Or, well, not with recuperating my account. In regards with the copyright issue as a whole, though? I don’t know what to say because I don’t know what’s the best course of action there. I’ve seen some discussions around about emails and a petition and involving other social media and bigger people but I genuinely don’t know what’s the best thing to do. I’ve personally always considered tumblr as this little (safe for everything) bubble and I don’t exactly feel comfortable “exposing” some of my content here to the rest of the world (some people on tumblr are already mean enough about RPF, I don’t need to see what people not on here have to say about it). That’s obviously just me and I’m not going to keep anyone from doing what they think is right. Part of me wants to believe that things will fix themselves once Liberty Media take over but that’s not a sure thing and the frequency of strikes lately has been quite worrying so I understand the need to do something. Some thinking over to do there too.

Where can you find me? For tumblr, on here for now. I’m going to post this on the motogp tag and I’ll try to follow my mutuals (from memory so, going to miss a lot of people for sure, sorry in advance). I might appreciate a reblog of this post to spread the word. I still have my twitter (mostly talking stats), the blog and my tiktok (barely being used but still in existence).

If I do the set ups correctly I’ll have my DMs open here and askbox open to anons. I am still bad at answering those, though, so apologies in advance there as well.

(Also, I just got home for the holidays and literally learned about the news when I was in the train yesterday afternoon, so, worst timing ever.)

[cocodotgreen]

Here is my Christmas build:

My take on Rosehill Cottage from the movie "The Holiday"

(Everyone rolling their eyes going "Not a ANOTHER Rosehill Cottage" 🙄😂)

I was almost finished building, when it came to me that I am probably not the first to have had THAT idea 🙈 I actually had a good laugh at the fact, that it took me so long to think of that 😂

So I asked the googler: turns out there are at least 5 other versions of Rosehill Cottage out there for the Sims 3... 😭😂

And then, the other day, I had @aistromelia's post pop up in my feed with gifs from another Rosehill Cottage inspired build with the exact same Christmas tree I used in the exact same location where I placed it in my version 🙈🙈 If you haven't yet, take a look at their post here! The gifs look absolutely amazing 😍😍😍 By that time I was already done playtesting my house, and had taken all the screenshots...

But I decided to go ahead with sharing it anyway. I had spent so much time on this build, and I had an absolute blast building and decorating it! One of the most fun builds I've ever done! It really helped me get into the Christmas Spirit! I figured that everyone's interpretation of this little cottage is going to be different anyway (except for the Christmas tree, apparently 😆)...

I highly recommend you use a mod that prevents objects from catching fire when placed near fireplaces like this one by @danjaley here. I placed several objects very close to the fireplaces and without a mod like this the house will turn into a charred pile of rubble in no time 😂

As with all my recent builds, I did use @omedapixel's Sims 3 Decorator Tools Mod. You don't necessarily need the mod to use the lot. As long as you do not move the objects that were placed with the mod, everything should stay in place. Only if you do some redecorating, and you happen to move one of the mentioned objects, they may slip back into normal mode and you will only be able to place them back with the mod.

I hope you guys will have as much fun playing in this house as I had building it! Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all of you 🎄🎅🎁

Details:

1 bedroom, 1 bathroom

Unfurnished price: § 49.853

Furnished price cc-free version: § 74.101

Furnished price x-mas-cc version: § 76.250

Lot Size: 25 x 25

No store content used

All expansion packs used

Stuff packs used: 70ies, 80ies and 90ies Stuff (Designer Distress Easy Chair), Outdoor Living Stuff (The Rustic Table Lantern, Caged Candle), Fast Lane Stuff (Lulu's Loveseat)

There are two versions: The house is the absolute same in both versions , the only difference is that one has cc Christmas decorations and the other has not.

Credits:

The house is inspired by Rosehill Cottage from the movie "The Holiday".

The beautiful Christmas decorations are by @aroundthesims. They give the house such a festive, cozy atmosphere! Thank you so much 🥰 I didn't even use all the Christmas stuff they have! You can find more on their website here!

Download (SimFileShare)

Rosehill Cottage cc-free

Rosehill Cottage with cc-X-mas decoration (included)

[marauder-misprint]

Trust Fund

Sirius Black x Pettigrew!reader

5.7k words

cw: post-hogwarts, swearing, snogging, fluff

Being two years older than Peter, you did your best to not cross paths with him during the five years you shared at Hogwarts. You love your brother. That wasn’t why. You had just hoped that he would make his own path without being seen as your little brother, and he did. You didn’t pay attention to his friends either; you knew they were such a tight knit group that they were still living together now, after Hogwarts. Would you recognize any of them if you saw them out on the street? Probably not. 

You frequented a wizarding club near your apartment that you shared with one of your friends from Hogwarts, Marie. She never came with you, opting to spend time with her boyfriend rather than a room full of sweaty people drinking and dancing. Her loss. 

You usually left the club alone, despite the many times you’d be dancing with someone all night. Because you were such a regular, the bartenders and security guards all knew you, and they knew when you looked ever so slightly uncomfortable and when to step in. Without talking, they could tell when you were done with a person and they’d make sure you were okay when you were leaving. So, you always made it home safe to wake up slightly hungover in your own bed. 

You expect tonight to go no different. You don a simple skater dress; you like the way the skirt would flare as you spin while dancing. Add heels, makeup and jewelry and you’re ready to go. Marie is already gone off to her boyfriend’s by the time you leave. It’s a short enough walk to the club. You tap your wand on the graffiti door in an alley. It solidifies and you’re able to enter. The security guard just nods at you as you pass by some girls who look far too young to be there.

“Hey, why aren’t you asking her for ID?” one of the girls complains.

The guard glares at her and she slinks to the back of her group. You laugh to yourself. You didn’t mind the special treatment you were given as thanks for being a regular. As you step through the second set of doors, you’re greeted with colorful, flashing lights, a thin fog of artificial smoke and the smell of alcohol, sweat and a sweet perfume that you know is misted around intermittently to counteract the sweat. 

You wave to the bartender and he starts to make your usual drink. By the time you’ve moved through the small crowd between you and the bar, your drink is ready for you. You exchange your wand for your drink, as collateral to make sure you pay your tab at the end of the night. You lean against the bar, sipping your drink as you gaze around the club. Music is playing loudly, drowning out any conversation around you. You know you’ll need at least one more drink before you take the floor. Not too many people are here yet and you need more artificial confidence if you’re going to dance on a non-packed dance floor. 

Then the  bartender slides you a drink just as you finish the one in your hand.

“Oh, I didn’t ask for another one yet,” you say.

He leans forward across the bar. “It’s from the gentleman at the end, the one with the curly hair. Taking care of your tab tonight.”

You raise your eyebrows at the bartender after looking where he had briefly gestured. 

“Then, I guess I don’t mind if I do…” you say, picking up the glass and taking a sip. 

You know the guy is watching you, waiting. After a second sip, you abandon your spot to approach him. As you get closer, you see he’s wearing ripped jeans and a black t-shirt that looked like it once had a design or logo on it at one point but had faded away over time. Even closer, you notice the silver jewelry, on his hands, around his neck and in his ears. Damn, he’s attractive.

“So, Trust Fund, fancy a dance?” you ask before taking a sip of the drink he was paying for.

He cocks an eyebrow at you with a wide grin.

“I’d love one.”

You hold out your free hand for him to take so you can lead him out to the floor. It doesn’t take long for the guy to become touchy, but it’s a good touchy. His chest is pressed firmly into your back with his hands on your waist. His cologne breaks through perfumed air and perpetual smell of sweat. You welcome that. As you continue to dance together, his hands wander, down to your hips, back up to your waist, to your stomach and high, to your thighs. You can feel his breath on your neck. He is so close. 

More songs play and you dance face-to-face as well. He’s just as close for that, his hands resting on your arse. Smiles adorn both your faces. You’re so caught up in his grey eyes, which he is unable to take off of you. You feel oblivious to the rest of the club, but it’s not your fault. He’s just so enchanting, so enthralling.

After a few more drinks, a mix of alcohol and water to pace yourself, you excuse yourself for the loo.

“You, my handsome Trust Fund, better still be here when I get back.”

“How ‘bout I get us another round? Meet you here?”

You nod. And he is waiting for you when you return, two drinks in hand as promised. You’re feeling emboldened. You take the drink he’s holding out for you and you slam it. He watches you with wild eyes. He’s enraptured with you. Then he mirrors your action, slamming his own drink. You take his cup and place both of them on a nearby table. Then you grab his shirt and pull him close to you. It’s the kind of action that makes your intentions obvious, and he obliges, bringing your faces ever closer together until lips meet. He tastes of the alcohol he’s been drinking and faintly of cigarettes. It’s anything but gentle and sweet. It’s hungry and fueled by desire. It doesn’t take long for you to be pushed against the wall, his tongue basically down your throat. You had one arm wrapped around his waist and the other hand tangled in his hair. His were groping your arse and holding your hips in place. 

You’re not sure how long you’ve been attached to his face, but you break apart when someone near you says, “Get a room.”

You both laugh, resting foreheads against each other.

“My roommate isn’t home tonight,” you breathe. 

“Yeah?” 

You nod. Suddenly, you’re wearing matching grins. He throws an arm around your shoulder and leads you back to the bar, where he exchanges a small pile of galleons for your wands. You give the employees a sly smile, a silent “I’m okay.” The cool air of the night hits you with a wave of sobriety. The man next to you is still stunningly beautiful, which makes you smile to yourself. 

“You live ‘round here?” he asks, looking down at you.

“Yeah, just a few blocks. What about you, Trust Fund?”

“Same. Not too far.”

You turn in the direction of home, his body following your movements. Every once in a while, he presses a gentle kiss into your hairline. The sweet action makes your heart flutter. You know bringing him back to your flat is a signal for certain activities, but the affection he shows you on the way makes you wonder what will become of this. 

“This is my building,” you say once you’ve arrived.

He takes a moment to look at the street sign and building name. You’re not sure if he’s judging it or trying to memorize it.

“Okay, yeah, I know where we are,” he says after a moment. “I’m a bit that way.” He points diagonally backwards. “Would’ve been funny if we were in the same building though.”

“Well, we’re in the same building tonight,” you tell him, opening the front door and holding it open for him.

He follows you up a few flights of stairs and down the hallway to your door. The way he’s looking around, you think he’s counting each flight, each door you pass, so that if he had to come back without your help, he’d be able to.

“Trust Fund, you want tea?” you offer as soon as you lock the flat’s door behind you.

“Why’re you calling me that, huh?”

“What? Trust Fund?” you reply with a giggle.

He nods, tracing his hands up and down your arms as you stand in your kitchen. 

“Instead of buying me a singular drink, you picked up my whole tab before even seeing if I was interested.”

He hums. “Bartender said you’re there often. Maybe I figured your bank account could use a break.”

“You asked Craig about me?” you tease.

“Craig?” he laugh and runs a hand through his hair. “Of course you’re on a first name basis with the bartender. You’re there often.”

“And I do drink within my means. My bank account is just fine, thank you very much.”

“So you never… go a little crazy?”

You give him a sweet smile and tuck a curl behind his ear.

“I don’t need alcohol to go crazy.”

He gives you an amused smirk before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Yes, tea would be lovely.”

Quiet conversation flows naturally over your cups of tea. When the cups are empty, you place them in the sink. You feel his eyes watching you, as if taking your movements around your domicile. You begin to head to your room, but when you turn around, he’s still standing in your kitchen.

“Trust Fund, you coming? you ask suggestively.

He breaks out of whatever thought was holding him captive in his own head. He nods, a wide grin immediately appearing. He follows you into your room and closes the door behind you. Sure, your roommate wasn’t home now, but she came home early, there were things she didn’t need to see. 

---

You wake up to an empty bed. Part of you wonders if maybe you’d had too much to drink last night and the beautiful man you’d brought home was all a dream. That is, until you actually get up. Marie is in the kitchen, sipping a cup of tea. She smiles with a wicked glint in her eyes when she sees you. 

“I see you had fun last night.”

Your hand immediately snaps to your neck. If you had love bites on your neck, then he wasn’t a dream. 

She laughs loudly. “I wasn’t talking about that! Check the fridge.”

You see a note placed under one of the magnets. 

‘Text me sometime -Trust Fund <3’ with his number underneath.

“Trust Fund?” Marie asks after you smile at the note.

“This guy, absolutely stunning by the way, starts off with handling my entire tab before even saying hi. And even if he asked Craig the bartender how much I usually drink, that’s such a ballsy move.”

“And you brought him home.”

“Like I said, he was stunning.” 

“Was he… any good?”

You blush furiously and look away. He had been. The best you’d had in years. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she giggles before loudly sipping her tea.

You move to put the kettle on with a roll of your eyes. As you wait for the water to boil, you reread the short note on the fridge. You like his handwriting, full of flourishes and flair. It fit his style. The note itself made your stomach flip. It meant that he had a good enough time last night too, enough that he wanted to see you again. 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about what to text him or when to text him. You didn’t want to come off as too eager, but you didn’t want to wait too long and risk him becoming uninterested or thinking you just got lonely and wanted attention. You’re sitting on the couch with the TV on, but you’re not paying attention to it. You’re staring at your phone. You haven’t texted him yet, but you want to. Boy, do you want to.

“Merlin, just text him,” Marie says, coming out of her room. 

“I don’t want to look-”

“He wouldn’t have left his number if he didn’t want you to text him,” she cuts you off. “I’m sure he’d love to see you again, which he can’t do until you text him.”

“He knows where I live,” you point out.

“That’s just an excuse! Text. Him.”

“Marie,” you whine.

“Do you want to see him again?” she asks, crossing her arms and leaning against the kitchen counter. 

“Yes.”

“Then text him. Doesn’t have to be much.”

“Like I can just say hi?”

“Yes! It’s not that difficult.”

“Says the girl who’s been dating her boyfriend since sixth year.”

“Whatever,” Marie laughs. “Speaking of, I’m off to Theo’s. You better have texted that poor sod by the time I’m back.”

You open your messaging app as soon as Marie is out the front door.

[Hey Trust Fund :)]

Your phone makes a swooshing noise as the text sends. And you wait. And wait. You stare at the phone. The TV provides background noise for your unraveling thoughts. 

Did I wait too long to text? Did I not wait long enough? Was ‘Hey’ the wrong thing to say? What if he left the wrong number to mess with me? What if last night wasn’t as enjoyable for him as it was for me and he left his number to appear polite but has no intentions of seeing me again? What if-

Your phone dings. His message lights up your screen.

{hey sweetheart - sorry i had to leave, work :/}

[Who goes to the club when they work in the morning?]

{fun people}

[Where do you work?]

{trying to stalk me?}

[Curious to see where Trust Fund gets his money]

{the record store on cornwallis ln}

{always slow in the morning}

It’s fitting that he works in a music store; over the tea last night, he talked a faer bit about his favorite bands, one of which was on his shirt, despite it being so faded. You realize you’re smiling at your phone. You sigh and decide to be bold.

[Hope it’s not too forward, but I’d like to see you again. Last night was fun]

He doesn’t respond as quickly as he had been. You click the off button on your phone to make the screen go dark as you begin to internally panic. Maybe it was too forward. Too quick to suggest seeing him again. 

Then your screen lights up again.

{i’d love that - busy wed evening?}

He’d love that. Your panic immediately subsides. 

[Nope, but I am now ;)]

---

He suggested a local cafe that did cocktail nights with live music. He’d been to a few of them before, describing it as a laidback scene, casual. It sounded like a good idea so you agreed. You had spent far too long staring at your closest deciding what to wear, only to end up in jeans and a flowy top. A cute outfit but not as “trying hard” as a different skater dress or a skirt would have been. He had said he would meet you outside your building and you’d be able to walk there together. 

“Hey gorgeous!” he calls out as he approaches you. He’s wearing jeans, no rips this time, and a different band tee. 

You feel more confident in your outfit. 

“Hey Trust Fund.”

“Oh, still calling me that, are you?”

You laugh, “Well, I don’t actually know your name…”

“Never came up, did it?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. Then you hold out your hand and say your first name.

He takes your hand to shake it and laughs with you. “Sirius.”

“Like the star?”

“Surprised you know it.” You give him a do I look stupid look. “Not in that way! Most people just don’t recognize it.”

You watch him take out his phone and go to what you assume is your contact.

“Aw, I’m there as pretty thing? That’s cute! You should keep it!”

“You are, no doubt. That’s why that’s what I went with. But I like names, nicknames. Helps me keep track of who’s who, you know?”

“Got a couple pretty things in your phone?”

He flushes at your teasing. 

“No,” he says slowly. “But I do have roommates who like to steal my phone and change all of the contact names. If they saw one pretty thing, every. single. contact. would be pretty thing and I’d have to spend hours figuring out which one is you.”

“Well, you’re staying as Trust Fund,” you say with a cheeky smile. “Plus, my brother would probably look at my phone and ask ‘why are you texting a star?’”

“You got a brother?” 

“Yup. Just one. What about you? Any siblings?”

“One brother too. We’re not too close.”

“Huh,” you say. “I’m not close with mine either. Siblings, what can I say?”

You both laugh and start to walk to the cafe. 

---

It quickly becomes a thing where you and Sirius are seeing each other in person at least once a week, and texting and calling multiple times a day. It wasn’t like you were codependent already. Sirius was just intoxicating, you were addicted to him. You wanted to share everything little thing that happened with him, and the feeling was reciprocated. And you wanted to share him with the people around you. You talked Marie and Theo’s ears off about him. 

“You sound absolutely smitten,” Theo laughs one evening when he and Marie decided for a night in at your shared flat rather than his. 

“Smitten?” Marie asks, shocked. “She’s obsessed! Try asking her about her work, about her other friends, literally anything else. She will somehow tie it back to this boy.”

You shrug. “Not my fault all topics lead back to him.”

“Apparently it’s my fault for encouraging you to text him. If I hadn’t meddled in your love life, you’d still be single and I would still have my sanity.”

“You lost that a long time ago,” Theo says, wrapping his arms around Marie.

“Theo, you’d love him.” Your eyes light up. “We should do a double date!”

“At least let me meet him first before you force him upon Theo! I think roommate ranks higher than roommate’s boyfriend!” 

Sirius, on the other hand, kept you to himself as much as he could. While he didn’t gush to his friends about you, they still knew how much you meant to him, even if they didn’t know your name yet. It was the way he jumped for his phone when your text notification echoed through the flat, the way he smiled when you called and then immediately took the call in a different room, the way he spent a little extra time to make sure he looked good before leaving the flat to meet you somewhere. 

“Off to see my girl, later dudes,” was yelled as he left, leaving the boys to share a knowing look.

Sirius was serious about this girl. And for them to get a little more information out of him all they needed to do was get some alcohol in him. They were hosting game night with some of their Hogwarts friends. As always, drinks were flowing and Sirius wasn’t holding himself back. 

“Sirius, I have a question for you,” Lily says, cornering him in the kitchen as he went to retrieve another beer from the fridge.

“Shoot, Evans,” Sirius says nonchalantly. 

“James says you got a girlfriend,” she says. 

He cracks open the beer and takes a swig. “That’s a statement, love.”

“You’re not denying it,” she retorts, a smile creeping onto her face. 

“How come you’re talking about my lovelife with Prongs?”

Lily laughs as they return to the group.

“Talking about it is certainly one way to describe it. More like he was complaining that you haven’t brought her round yet.”

“Who hasn’t been brought around?” Mary asks, looking up from her cards. 

“Sirius got himself a proper girlfriend.”

“Proper?” Mary questions. “How proper we talking?”

“Smiling at his phone and hour-long calls,” Remus answers for Sirius.

“Oh! So this is serious!” Marlene exclaims.

“I’m always Sirius,” he replies as he plops down onto the couch next to Remus.

“So you’re going to tell us about her, yeah?” Marlene says, her voice implying it was more of a statement than a request.

The alcohol impedes his decision-making skills. So the first thing he says about you is…

“She’s on a first-name basis with the bartender at the club where we met.”

Lily chokes on her drink.

“She’s an alcoholic?” Peter gasps.

“No! No. No. She just goes, went? Goes there often. Dunno. But damn, she’s captivating as well.” He hums. “I like her. A lot.”

“He admits it!” James says, nudging Lily. “He admits it.”

“Yeah, I heard him, babe.”

“O’ course I admit it,” Sirius says a snippy. “She didn’t mind going to that cocktail cafe.”

“Still sounding like an alcoholic…” Peter murmurs.

Mary slaps his shoulder. “Be nice.”

“She likes to dance. She danced with me at the cafe,” Sirius says before taking another swig of beer. “We walked around that muggle art exhibit and she actually knew stuff ‘bout it. Like composition and whatnot. She’s smart like that.”

“Drinks, dances and knows art… Sounds like a keeper,” Remus says with a laugh.

“Do you have like cute nicknames for each other yet? Lil pet names?” Mary asks.

Sirius smiles widely. “Yeah! Well, she does for me. She has me in her phone as Trust Fund.”

The group just stares at him blankly, which wasn’t the reaction he was expecting.

“What?” 

“Trust Fund?” Lily asks, furrowing her brows. “So she’s dating you for your money?”

SIrius’ eyes go wide in realization. That nickname needed its backstory.

“No! No, Godric no. The night I met her, I told the bartender I’d pay for her entire tab before I even said hi. So she assumed I had money to fall back on and called me that all night.”

“Certainly one thing to moan in bed…” Peter mumbled, earning himself another light slap from Mary.

Sirius didn’t give him a reaction.

“And then later, she said that if she put Sirius in her phone, her brother would ask why she’s texting a star,” Sirius continued with a laugh.

The air in the room eases. 

“She knows I have a job! And she does too. Honestly, the Black fortune hasn’t come up. She’s not like that.”

“Sirius, we believe you,” Marlene says. “What is she in your phone?”

“Her name with a black heart emoji.”

“Classy,” Remus slurs.

“Shut up,” Sirius says, but his words have no bite.

He’s just smiling into his beer can. 

The next day as he’s cleaning up from game night, Sirius steps into Peter’s room. If he was going to run the dishwasher, he wanted all the dishes and Peter had a habit of hoarding his used cups. A picture of Peter’s family on vacation sitting on the dresser catches Sirius’ eye. Peter is really young in the old photo which Sirius assumes was taken sometime pre-Hogwarts. He can’t help but think the girl standing next to Peter looks vaguely familiar. He probably just recognizes her from Hogwarts, being that she is Peter’s sister, he tells himself, unable to completely place the face. He doesn’t think much of it, grabbing two rather large stacks of cups and leaving Peter’s room. 

In the kitchen, he organizes the cups into the dishwasher and starts it up. Then he moves around the living room, picking up wrappers and cans. 

“Since when do you clean up after game night?” Remus asks, leaning against the doorframe of his room. His voice is scratchy from just waking up.

Looking down at the rubbish in his hands, Sirius says, “I guess since today?”

“What’s eating your mind then?”

“Huh?”

“Padfoot, I’ve lived with you for about half my life. You’re acting like an elf. What’s going on?”

“Just thinking about her.” 

“And that has you cleaning?”

“She’s just… unreal.”

“Unreal,” Remus repeats back to him. 

“Haven’t felt like this about a girl before, Moony. All those Hogwarts girls? They don’t compare.”

Remus chuckles and stands up straighter before walking over to Sirius. He places his hands on Sirius’ shoulder.

“Sounds like you fell quick and hard, m’friend.”

“Fell…”

“If you like her more than all the girls from school… Sirius, you might be in love.”

---

“Hey, Wormtail, where you off to? I thought we were having roommate dinner?” James calls from the kitchen of the boys’ flat. 

“I told you I couldn’t tonight,” he says as he pulls on a coat. “I got that family dinner.”

“Ugh, I forgot!” James groans.

“Is it like national family dinner night or something?” Sirius asks, joining James in the kitchen. 

“Dunno, why?”

“Girlfriend’s got family dinner tonight too.”

“Speaking of,” Remus says from where he’s sat in the living room, “when do we get to meet this amazing chick?

Sirius shrugs. “Whenever I decide she’s ready to handle a game night with you bastards.”

“Alright, that’s it. I’m outtie!” Peter calls before the front door slams behind him and the rest of the boys hear the lock turn. 

“Just give us some warning before she comes over, yeah? We’ll clean up a bit,” Remus says with a wink. 

“And if it’s for a game night, we can invite the girls too!” James adds. “Lils, Marlene, Dorcas, Mary. The whole gang.”

“Yeah, and we can invite Reg, and Evan and Junior, and Pandora too. Then I’ll take her to meet my parents immediately after,” Sirius replies sarcastically.

The boys give him blank looks.

“The whole Hogwarts gang might be a bit much. You lot are a bit much, but not much I can do ‘bout that,” he explains.

“Aw, he doesn’t want to scare her off,” Remus coos, joining the other two in the kitchen.

“No, I don’t,” Sirius says firmly. “Now what are you making, Prongs? I’m getting hungry.”

“Spaghetti. Remus, what sauces we got?”

Remus opens the cupboard with a squeak. “Ah, looks like red sauce, red sauce number two, white sauce, green sauce… third red sauce.” 

“Eh. Pick one of the reds.” James looks over his shoulder at Sirius, who is leaning against the counter. “For a girl you’re obsessed with, we still don’t actually know her name.”

---

Peter’s already there when you arrive at your parents’ house. He’s talking with your dad as they set the table. Your mum is in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on dinner. 

“Smells like I arrived just in time!” you say, taking off your coat.

“I’m setting the table, you’re clearing it,” Peter informs you.

“Darling, go help your mother bring the food to the table,” your dad says.

You do help your mum set the table and you sit down as a family. Since you and Peter don’t live too far away, your parents try to have dinner once a month to catch up. Your dad rants about the people he works with. Your mum discusses the gossip from her book club. Peter starts talking about a movie that he saw with some of his roommates. 

“Oh, I saw that movie with my boyfriend!” you interject.

“You have a boyfriend?” your mum asks, clearly intrigued. “This is new!”

“Yeah, it is. Only been official for a week or so now.”

“You were going to tell us… when?” your dad asks.

You roll your eyes. “I was going to, Dad. I’m an adult, I don’t have to tell you about everyone I date.”

“There’s more?” your mum nearly exclaims.

“Not really, no, but the point is I don’t have to tell you. Until I’m sure they are sticking around for a while.”

“Yeah? You like this one?” Peter asks, putting down his fork. 

“I do, Pete. He’s a good guy.”

“Didn’t you say that about your fifth year boyfriend?”

You snort a laugh. “Don’t go bringing Diggory into this.”

“So, where did you meet this fellow?” your dad asks, trying to avoid a sibling argument. 

Peter never liked Amos Diggory and, while he had treated you kindly for a while, Amos ended up cheating on you. You shut down for a while, which you still think is a perfectly normal reaction, but Peter was concerned for his big sister. 

“Ah, um, well,” you stumble over your words. “This little cafe near my flat.”

You were not going to tell your parents that you met your boyfriend at a club. Meeting at a cafe was a much cuter scenario that kept their internal image of their pristine daughter. You assumed they knew you weren’t pristine, but it was one of those things you don’t talk about with your parents unless you have to. It was easier that way. 

“That’s nice, sweetie. Pete, you seeing anyone?” your mum asks, taking the attention off you for a moment. 

Peter blushes. “No. Been focused on work.”

“Whatever happened between you and that girl… what’s her name… She went to school with you?”

“Really narrows it down, Mum.”

“Martha?” 

“Mary?” Peter all but gasps. He blushes deeper. “Nothing ever really happened with her.”

“So that Appleby Arrows?” you ask your dad. 

Peter didn’t need to discuss a failed attempt at a relationship with your parents. The fact that they knew about it was embarrassing enough. You knew the two were still friends; from what you had heard, he wanted a relationship and she didn’t so they somehow managed to be friendly for the friend group’s sake. Peter gave you a thankful look and you both filled your mouths with your mum’s cooking as your dad started ranting about the most recent match and the horrendous officiating. 

---

“Didn’t we go to school with someone named Sirius?” Marie muses later in the week.

When you first told her your boyfriend’s name, she laughed. It’s just such an odd name, she had said. And now, she was thinking they knew someone else with that name, especially after she told Theo and he brought up school. 

“Probably? He’s a wizard living in London. I would not be surprised if he went to Hogwarts.”

“But surely we’d recognize him then.”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll ask next time I see him. But I can’t say I really paid attention to anyone younger than us, so even if he did, it doesn’t matter.”

“I keep forgetting he’s younger!” she exclaims. “You usually go for the older dudes.”

“Older dudes go for me,” you correct her, a smile playing at your lips. “Sirius just works though, you know?”

“If he makes you happy, I’m happy. I’m not the one snogging him on our couch.”

You laugh. “At least I do it when you’re not home.”

“And I go to Theo’s.”

You clink your glasses in solidarity. 

---

You’re laying on the couch with Sirius, watching an American forensic TV show, when you remember that conversation with Marie. You figure now is as good of a time as any.

“Sirius?”

“Hm?”

“Did you go to Hogwarts?”

“Uh, yeah, I did.”

You hum. “What house were you in?”

“Gryffindor?”

“Oh! You probably know my brother then.”

“Yeah?” he says, looking down at you in his arms. “What’s his name?”

“Peter.”

Sirius sits up, forcing you out of his embrace, with his eyes wide.

“Peter as in Peter Pettigrew?”

“Yeah.”

You move out of his way as he stands up and begins pacing. You watch him, unsure of his reaction.

“Sirius?”

“I’m dating my best friend’s sister? How did… what?” 

My best friend’s sister. So that meant that he was Peter’s roommate now too. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Sirius is pacing and muttering confused fragments to himself.

“Sirius?” 

“You’re a Pettigrew?” he asks, pausing for a moment to look at you.

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

He doesn’t answer right away. That stings. He runs a hand through his hair and starts pacing again. The girl in the photo in Peter’s room is you.

“No, it’s not a problem,” he says after a few paces. “It’s just… just… very, very unexpected?” 

You stand up and go to hold his shoulders, stopping his pacing. 

“It’s good we figured this out before we ended up at your place, yeah?”

He groans but it’s lighthearted. “Godric, that’d be embarrassing.” He pauses as he thinks. “Shit, that’s going to be embarrassing. ‘Hey, Peter. This is my girlfriend. You know her as your sister.’”

Sirius forcefully rests his forehead on your shoulder. You card your fingers through his hair to comfort him. 

“Well, it’s that or you wait for a Pettigrew family event and I introduce you as ‘Sirius, my boyfriend, and Peter’s longtime best friend.’”

“That’s not any better,” he says to your shoulder. 

“We have to tell him at some point.”

“Do we?”

“Probably. Guess it depends on how serious this is.”

“This?”

“Us.” You pause and lean backwards so Sirius has to lift his head back up. “There is still an us, right?”

“Yeah, yes, of course,” he says rushed. “Sorry, my brain is-”

“Taking it all in. Yeah.” You offer him a soft smile before it falls from your face. “Wait, so what’s your surname?”

He laughs. “Legally, Black. Sirius Orion Black. But the Potters basically adopted me when I ran away.”

“Potters… Jake or something?”

“James.”

“Ah… How did our surnames never come up?”

“You were the one who calls me Trust Fund.”

“You’re a Black!” you exclaim, dots connecting. “You are a trust fund! I knew it!”

“Dating me for my money are you?” he teases.

“You paid my tab first. That’s on you.” You lean up to kiss his nose. “And then you won me over by being irresistibly you.” 

“Aw, don’t make me blush.” 

“I think it’s my life goal now.” 

lol this has been sitting in my drafts for a while - was fun to write and polish up

[myceliacrochet]

URGENT: 4yo Little Girl and Her Family Malnutritioned and Freezing!! (Sham and Moneer al-Anqar -- Skills Series: "Easy Piece First")

Reblog if u answer pls tysm!🩷

There's no shame in that! In this series, I'll be sharing some tips to help us keep going strong, carrying these families throughout this brutal winter of extermination. With each post I'll be highlighting a family in desperate need.

Easy Piece First

Whether we're working at a job, making commissions, working on posts, or doing other tasks, mutual aid for genocide relief can be overwhelming. The stakes are through the roof, and sometimes the people who most want to help are the people least able to. Often I freeze in place, overwhelmed with emotion, unsure of where to start. Depression, anxiety, and AuDHD don't help!

So I hope this skill is of use to you. I call it "Easy Piece First" because that's what helps me remember it, but it's definitely not a new idea.

I started this post with the easiest small step accessible. For me, that was writing down Moneer's current blog tag (@sham-moner) in a new post. This was the easiest for me because it required no decision-making and could be done in a few seconds. Then I filled in the other parts that don't take much thought -- the GoFundMe link, the vetting, and some tags.

For other posts, sometimes I'll be making art that is unrelated and then I'll think of a post to go with it.

Lazy and Heartless, or Focused and Strategic?

Everyone is different, but trying to force yourself to start with the hardest part first (what some people call the "Eat That Frog" approach) can actually make things take longer for some people. Using "Easy Piece First," I was able to get more done with my time, and with less trouble. This makes my efforts more sustainable long-term.

On a related note, I actually take a lot of measures to not walk around with my chest constantly hurting for Palestinians anymore (though there's nothing wrong with doing so). My chest was aching at all times for months until I converted some of my worry into action and some of it into self-care -- so I could actually get more done for Palestinians, who do not need my tears but my labor.

This winter is a marathon, and we gotta see it through to the end.

Take care of yourself so you can get more done and keep helping people long-term.

Do not give yourself a heart condition.

Give Palestinians labor.

That's how I'm keeping myself out of the hospital and maximizing what I can do for people, but we all have our own strategies.

But that's enough about us -- let's talk about these two amazing kids.

Moneer and Sham

Palestinians are just regular people. That's the horrible reality. It's the exact same as if people from your own background, even your own family were getting tortured and killed.

Like, Moneer is a 19yo who had recently started university when the genocide began. Sham is 4, Mohammed is 16, Rana is 21, and Rasha is 22.

What were you going through when you were 4? How would you have felt if you saw people getting blown up at that age? What if your house was blown up and all your toys and friends were lost, and you had to live outside in the winter, scrounging for moldy bread and polluted water?

What if you lived with the smell of rotting bodies when you were 4? Did you know what that smelled like as a little kid? I still don't know what that smells like. I didn't really know what death was at that age. She does.

This small child is in critical need of food and water!!

She is starving!!

Sham will die this winter without more donations!!

This is a call to action for an extremely urgent campaign!!!

It's been 2 days, and it was 2 days before that! This is far too long!!

Moneer is still recovering from major surgery. He is in a lot of pain and is also malnutritioned and in need of clean water and warmth.

Moneer is very close to his family and dearly loves his mom, Amani (39). Amani is in a lot of danger because she has asthma in a dusty massacre zone without treatment. It's killing Moneer to watch his mom go through this.

Drink some water, take a rest, and keep putting one foot in front of the other, using whatever tools work for you.

We are not letting these kids and their family die this winter!! We can do this!!

Vetting: GazaVetters #8

@opencommunion @beserkerjewel @deepspaceboytoy @rhubarbspring @eryuditely @lesbianmaxevans @malcriada @turian @sxpph0 @rebel-girl-queen-of-my-world @neptunerings @dykesbat @halalgirlmeg @userpeggycarter @minosbull @hamstertross @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness-blog @definitelynotafox @kaleschmidt @jaylung101 @captainsaltymuyfancy2 @timetravellingkitty @sun-and-moon-side @kahin @greenmossyrock @northgazaupdates2 @irhabiya @theparanoid @steep1253o @victoriawhimsey @dirhwangdaseul @cruzwalters @ladycelebrianofimladris @tamamita @50seagullsinatrenchcoat @deathlonging @nconiku @briarhips @kaislittlecorner @mahoushojoe @sar-soor @rhubarbspring @pcktknife @sawasawako @feluka @anneemay-blog @ralfocups

P.S.: I have several people waiting on me for posts. I am so sorry -- I will get them finished and published as soon as possible.

@soft-sunbird Thank you dear friend🥰🩷 I love you. You're doing so great

[simp-ly-writes]

The Jackals Companion

─────── · · A 'Day of the Jackal' (TV series) FanFic

Pairing: Charles "Jackal" Calthrop x Fem!Hacker!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: After a shocking turn of events, you and the Jackal become lovers-of-sorts and you both share a moment in one another warmth as a snowy London sets the backdrop to your hotel room.

─ · · TAGS: second person perspective used, female-pronouns used, mostly fluff, cuddling, kissing, depictions of blood, mentions of guns and violence, usage of pet-names (ex. love) swearing, light angst.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,401

─ · · A/N: thank you to @calmowl2407 for this sweet ask! sorry that it took me awhile 🫶 I hope you all enjoy :)

─────── · ·

─ · · You were a certified genius- or at least thats what your first job title while working in an a Apple store for a few years but now you were a freelance hacker and profiler; having graduated with multiple degrees in sociology, psychology, mathematics, and of course, computer science.

─ · · During the day you worked as a teaching assistant and seasonal lecturer but at night, you were known as "Robin." You loved your behind-the-scenes job, the disconnection gave you privacy yet enough money to live a plush lifestyle in reality and to do the things you loved most- teaching others.

─ · · When on one of your nightly "raids" you liked to call them you were toying with auction prices at an event, watching through the security cameras in order to pause the sale just at the right moment yet it appeared that someone had the exact same idea as you... just in a more direct approach...

Your vision snapped over to one of your other various monitors at the sight of a figure in a suit, moving outside of the outlined space for the event. You raised a brow, zooming in on pixelated face with a scoff- nobody ever invests in high quality cameras these days.

You watched as he moved through the various corridors and always knew where to face so that all the cameras did not get a clear sight of him. He walked in long purpose-filled strides, a gym-bag over his shoulder, the object inside odd in shape as you rendered a scan of it- a gun? But who's the target little assassin?

You did a quick search of the black-web, trying to find any details or contracts that had been posted in the last three months yet nothing particularly pertained to anyone attending this event. Your eyebrows furrowed, irritation growing as you couldn't find any information of why this man was here, who he was going to attack, and even who the hell this guy even was in the first place.

You tapped your finger against your desk, contemplating your next move, the clock was ticking down and with one click it would be lights out, the men posing as handlers would run with the object just as your contract requested and you would have yet another fat pay check in your lap... could finally buy that new wool coat, you thought to yourself with a smile, thats if this assassin doesn't mess with anything...

You watched as he unzipped his bag and set up his gear, sizing up for the shot, click, you giggled, leaning back in your chair as you watched through the various body cams to see the artifact successfully stolen and they made their escape. People were running around everywhere, police entering the scene as the auctioneer was lead off-stage before collapsing a bullet right between his eyes. You clapped your hands together, good shot, you praised before erasing all the security footage- leaving not a trace to be found.

CHAT ROOM OPENED: r0ob6^in* said: payment? now. A-%l^8e6x said: sent. good work. A-%l^8e6x said: next job? file.16937 r0ob6^in* said: will do.

You placed an order on that coat before turning off your screens and order in take-out before going for a shower and settling yourself into a set silk pyjamas and fluffy slippers.

─────── · ·

─ · · A knock sounded at your door as you went to go get your food and to your surprise there was a metal barrel awaiting you instead of a brown paper bag. You raised your hands, eyes wide and blinking, "uh you can have anything you want in the apartment! please don't hurt me!" you plead as they force their way into the space and... gently close the door behind themselves?

You blinked, one... twice... thrice in confusion, "sit" they ordered as you rapidly nodded your head and trotted your way to the living room and finding the nearest armchair while shaking like a leaf and whispering a prayer to whatever celestial entity would hear.

The tall man sits across from you, legs extended outwards and on to your rug. You did not dare look them in the face, instead playing with your hands with closed eyes wondering what they would do next. You felt the mans stare at the side of your head and across your body as they observed what you were wearing more closely, "look at me."

You took a second before raising your head and staring just past the top of their head, you prayed that the second of hesitation you took would not take your life as well. "Look at me," they demanded again as your eyes flashed down to... a young mans face? and an attractive face with that?

You tried not to let the shock and confusion come over your features but failed miserably once hearing him chuckle at you. "I've been... observing your talents from afar for awhile now, your little mission today was a surprise for me but I must thank you for deleting that footage... saved me frying their servers on my way out."

You nod, slowly, as you observe the suit the man wears and how put-together he looks for being a criminal breaking into your own home and threatening you with a gun that was still pointed in your direction. "You're welcome?" you say yet it comes out more like a question, you hear the safety of their gun click on as they place it back in the waistband of their pants. You lean back, slightly in your chair knowing that you most likely were not leaving this spot while under such a heavy stare... or at least not for awhile...

─────── · ·

─ · · When you said awhile back then... you would be surprised to know awhile meant more like over a year and not a day went but without you seeing "The Jackal" or Charles he told you to call him. He said he wished to have a camera on you when you reacted to his name for the first time, the way your lips pushed together like your eyebrows as you tested the name again and again on your tongue while picking and pointing at his face- he couldn't help but smile at your silly actions.

─ · · You had become the Jackals companion in some strange turn of events, always by his side or had him in your sights as you navigated him through building floor plans and got him onto planes quickly back to your house that had became a second home-base for him. You scoff shaking your head, your own damn burglar now holding the keys to your apartment to come and go as freely as he wanted but the Jackal never wanted you too far away from him, especially when he was completing large and dangerous missions like the one he was on right now... trying to assassinate a parliament member in London.

─ · · It was nearing Christmas time, a perfectly unsuspecting and joyous part of the year that would have your client easy to locate for you and for the Jackal- easy to target.

─ · · You waited anxiously for Charles to get back to the hotel room after providing him directions through local security cameras. You had ordered room service in preparation and held a half drank glass of red wine in your hand, swirling it around like your thoughts before setting the glass down and jumping off the bed, running down the hall at the sound of the door closing before jumping into his arms.

"Hello to you to, love," he teased you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you smiled and buried your face into his cold jacket, a shiver cascading down your spine as his large hands picked you up and carried you back to beg. You giggled, wiggling your feet with excitement once feeling him throw you onto the bed. You watched from the covers as he undressed layer after layer upon himself and his face before stripping back to the Charles you knew.

"Much better," he sighed out before crawling on the bed and towards you, capturing your lips in between his own before brushing the hair out of your face. "I see you already ordered food for two?"

"Mhmm," you hum out contently before patting the seat beside you and brining him a plate as you both talk over yet another successful mission. "Speaking of which," Charles wipes his mouth with one of the serviettes before gathering both of your empty plates and putting them on the desk within the room, "we have to check if we got payed for our hard work."

You nod watching as he bends down, reaching into his bag to pick up his laptop and glasses case as you reach for your own on the nightstand. Feeling the bed drip once again you shuffle closer to his side and hear in chuckle, "clingy are we today?"

You shrug, "Its the holidays, Charles, let your girl be," you defend yourself.

"My girl-hm?" he says back, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you look up at him through his glasses- your heart begins to race as he looks down at you, the frames slipping down his nose as you reach over to fix them for him, "thanks, love."

─────── · ·

─ · · You both work silently beside one another, double checking your finances and going over the blueprints for your next mission in Croatia... after a much needed break and beach-filled vacation you both agreed upon.

─ · · By the time you had finished your side of things, Charles was still typing away and memorizing the blueprints. You played with the material of his shirt, pressing your head to the side of the arm in a silent ask for him to give you more of his attention. "A few more minutes then I'm all yours," Charles murmurs, zooming into an air duct right above the stage.

You watched his eyes move across the dimensions, you loved picking apart every micro-expression he let flash across his features only to be gone the next moment. Catching your stare he sighed, shutting down his device and casting it to the nightstand as you placed your head in his lap feeling his fingers rake across your scalp gently- as if coaxing you to sleep.

Yet you couldn't close your eyes as you had just remembered a file that you had accessed... freely... you opened and closed your mouth, thinking about how to phrase your next words before the Jackal cut you off and you pulled your head up, "whatever you want to ask in that brilliant brain of yours- do it."

"The things is," you try and explain, failing miserably to find the right words watching as Charles's attention moves away from you, your confidence slipping before seeing a notepad and pen being presented to you. "Would it be easier to write out whats going on in here?" He clicks the pen on by shoving it against your forehead.

You glare, snatching the items away as he holds up his hands. You look between the blank page and Charles one, two, and even three times before not writing anything down. The Jackal notices you struggling, he begins to get a bit worried himself as you stand up from the bed and move away to a separate chair in the room before writing out your list of questions, hiding your face behind your knees in order to escape from his questioning stare.

"Is this... something to do with my past?" The Jackal asks, remembering the last time you acted this way a few weeks after you both formally met. You freeze solidifying his answer. "My offer still stands, whatever if is I'll answer it... if I can," he explains, watching as you sit up in the chair and look him in the eyes, "Did you... kill your platoon?"

You watch as Charles freezes before slowly reaching over to take a sip of his glass of red wine, a bead of it dripping down his chin like blood as you grip your hands together in wait. "The simple answer is yes, I did but I believe it to be in fair fashion after... they massacred a wedding."

─ · · The following story has you nauseous and partially scared as you hold yourself and don't meet his eyes that search to observe your reaction- to hear your thoughts and heart. "Come 'ere" he pats his lap before opening his arms, watching as you hesitantly stand from your chair and walk over before being pulled down into the bed and feel his strong arms wrap around your torso like a weighted blanket to soothe your anxiety.

"I hope I didn't scare you- You know I would never hurt you, love, right?" he murmurs into your shoulder before pressing a kiss to the crook of our shoulder and neck, lingering in the spot until feeling you nod your head and rest your back against his chest more comfortably, "I know. But you're different now, right? And you're my Charles... but I would also understand if you needed to kill me." You feel as the Jackal freezes, his grip tightens around you, your breath hitches before you continue to speak, "A-and If you were going to... please shoot just shoot me straight in the face... I wouldn't want to be recognized by anyone."

You close your eyes feeling as Charles slips away form behind you, the cold air of the room spreading goosebumps across your skin as a tear slips from the corner of your eye. The sudden touch of a hand bringing your chin up has you wincing, "let me see your gorgeous eyes, my love," Charles asks softly. You shake your head in his touch before feeling it strengthen, "open them, please," he asks again, this time a bit more firmly.

You slowly blink them open, watching as he tears his glasses off and cups your cheeks, rubbing the skin thoughtfully with his thumbs, "I love you," he whispers before you feel his lips against your own. You both fall backwards onto the covers, Charles holding his weight above you as you break away breathless from the kiss, "I love you too."

─────── · ·

─ · · JACKAL TAGLIST: @swiftietevitdrewjew @groovyponypatrollamp @alelo23 @apaperflowerreader

[starrysturnz]

somebody waits for you…

pairing. prince!chris sturniolo x reader

summary. to maintain the secrecy of their relationship, chris and y/n don’t mingle much at the annual christmas ball. but his self control is only so powerful, and when he finds a secluded hallway lined with mistletoe, he can’t help but to give in to temptation.

warnings. angst if you cover your eyes with your hands and peek through the cracks.

word count. 1.3k

author’s note. posting the day after i was meant to… your honor i plead poor time management skills. (i’m currently on a trip, we got to the hotel later than expected LMAO i’m sorry.) but at least it’s only like 2:30am and i didn’t make you wait until the afternoon or smth! hoping this quality content makes up for the lateness. kisses!!

masterlist | taglist | starrysturnz’s christmas countdown

© starrysturnz. all rights reserved. dividers by @cafekitsune.

it was as though chris’s eyes were permanently glued to y/n’s figure across the ballroom, which was unfortunate for the girl currently vying for his attention. she was pretty, he could admit that, and truthfully she seemed genuinely sweet. goodness knows his brothers would scold him for ignoring her the way he was, but he couldn’t help it… he was a taken man.

not that anybody knew that. his parents would probably drop dead on their thrones if they found out one of their sons was dating a commoner. even if it was y/n, who’d grown up practically joint at his hip— her mother was the queen’s favorite florist, and her father the royal shoemaker (for many months after he’d stopped growing, chris continued to request new boots because his old ones “no longer fit”). they adored her, but she was expected to know her place, and chris his.

so they shared lingering glances across the busy banquet hall. sometimes, she sent a wink his way, maybe a flutter of her lashes. he’d respond with a quirk of his lips, and a look that she knew meant “later.” but later felt like forever away. he wanted to hold her now, in that dress that hugged her in all the right places, and kiss her painted lips. he wanted to drown in her perfume, the expensive one that he bought her for her birthday last year. she only wore it on special occasions, even though he repeatedly told her he would just buy her another one when it ran out. she was stubborn.

matt noticed his brother’s distracted stare, apologizing to the duchess on his arm as he pulled him away from her.

“hey,” he said, clapping his brother on the shoulder when they reached a secluded corner, “go take a walk, man.”

“what are you talkin‘ about, dude?”

the older prince sighed, rubbing his eye as he hesitated a bit (a habit his mother has given up on getting him to stop). “i know you want her… but you gotta be realistic. starin‘ at her like a stray puppy isn’t gonna help, so just go clear your head or somethin‘ and go back to talkin‘ to the duchess. and act like she’s actually there this time, okay?”

chris didn’t even have the chance to process matt’s words before he was walking back to his date. matt knew he liked y/n? maybe he’d been less slick than he thought. at any rate, he was right— chris could use a break from this ball. he definitely didn’t want to go back to talking to the duchess.

⁺⁎˚

it wasn’t long before the prince found himself in a long hallway, many doors down from any prying eyes. what was meant to be a relaxing moment of peace and quiet backfired due to his usual overthinking. he paced up and down the hall as his thoughts barreled through his mind at warp speed.

god! all he wanted was y/n. publicly. shamelessly. he wanted everyone to see her for who she was, not for her blood status. so what if she wasn’t royal? does that make a person unworthy of love? would he really have to do more of this— attending these ridiculous parties, meeting eligible noblewomen who bore him halfway into his grave, pretending to listen as they ramble on about their latest trip into the countryside? start dating one? propose? commit to a lifetime in an unhappy marriage, longing for somebody else?

lacing his fingers behind his neck, he leaned back into his palms. deep inhale through the nose. exhale through the mouth. repeat. repeat. repeat.

when chris opened his eyes again, his gaze fell upon a small plant hung at the base of the high sconce in front of him. white berries, round green leaves… mistletoe? he glanced down the hallway and noticed one strung upon each light fixture, smiling to himself at the mental image of their head maid, tiny woman that she was, securing them in place on her toetips.

and then the idea struck him.

⁺⁎˚

“chris!” y/n laughed, a warmth blooming in his chest at the sound, “where are we going?”

his fingers squeezed hers tighter as he shot her a mischievous grin over his shoulder, not letting up on his pace. anyone passing by would think they were in some kind of emergency, the way he was pulling her through the castle.

“jus‘ trust me, kid,” he assured her. “you’re gonna like it.”

y/n knew better than to pry. but when they arrived at their destination, it’s safe to say she was a bit confused. she turned to look at him quizzically, leaning back against the wall on her palms.

“it’s… a hallway.”

chris smiled, a playful glint in his eye. he took a step forward. “mhm.”

“don’t get me wrong, it’s a lovely hallway. i like the wallpaper.”

“that’s nice, baby,” he mused as he stalked closer to her, his hands landing on her hips, sliding up to her waist and squeezing the flesh there through the fabric of her dress. she couldn’t help but notice his gaze fixated on her lips.

“it’s just that i was about to grab a slice of the yule log, and—”

the girl’s sentence stopped short in a gasp as chris pushed her suddenly flush against the wall. he inched closer and closer to her face, until their lips were just barely brushing, teasing her. too anxious to move, she felt her eyes slip shut, anticipating the moment he’d bridge the gap between them.

but it never came. instead, she was startled to feel his thumb and forefinger trap her jaw gently in their grasp, ever so carefully tilting her head up at the dim light above them.

“open your eyes f’me, y/n,” chris whispered lowly in her ear. “what d’you see?”

it only took a second to adjust to the light before she realized. “chris…,” her palms found purchase on the prince’s chest, his heartbeat faint and his breathing even beneath his suit jacket. she was comforted by the feeling. “someone might see.”

a flicker of something unrecognizable flashed across his features before he spoke again, “i don’t care. please, let me.”

“you could get in so much trouble. you’re already pushing your luck, inviting a peasant to a ball. what would your parents think?”

chris’s brow furrowed as he traced his fingertips along her exposed collarbone. “you’re not a peasant. everyone gets a plus one, there’s no rule about who you can or can’t invite. my parents know you, and they love you. they know you’re my best friend, ’s not suspicious, i promise.”

y/n wasn’t quite convinced. they’d been so careful… was it really worth the risk?

“no one ever comes down here,” he tried again. “please. let me kiss you. let me kiss you, baby.”

her shy smile was all the confirmation he needed before his lips were on hers, soft but hungry, as though he physically couldn’t hold back any longer. his left arm wrapped around her waist as his right snaked up to hold the back of her head, flexing his muscles to pull her in as close as possible.

“angel,” he sighed against her, out of breath but going in for more, “god, you’re an angel.”

a stifled while fell from her lips involuntarily, and she had to pull away before things escalated. chris wouldn’t let her get far, though, resting his forehead against hers as they caught their breath together.

“thank you,” he whispered, savoring the moment he knew had to end soon. “dunno what i would’ve done if i had to wait any longer. i might’ve kidnapped you.”

she giggled, a melody to chris’s ears. “you kinda did, your highness.”

chris pinched her arm at the title, earning a small yelp in return.

“oh, by the way… i think matt might be onto us.”

[lemonlyman-dotcom]

Hello! Sharing a longer bit from my fic This Infinite Love which is now fully posted on ao3 ❤️💚 I had so much fun writing this one and it was so amazing reading along with everyone’s comments all week 💕

After a year and a half of pursuing the why of Gabriel’s murder, he was finally ready to face the why of the pain. Gabriel was his dad. And Carlos realised that it wasn’t through solving his murder, or becoming an exemplary Ranger that he would continue his father’s legacy or make him proud. It was by being a good man, a generous and gracious husband, by prioritizing his family and building a good life. And, he told TK with a hopeful spark in his eye, by being brave. By being a good father to a little boy who desperately needed one.

TK knows that Carlos was scared, that despite coming to terms with everything his father was, he was still terrified of making the same mistakes and possibly causing more harm to a vulnerable little boy. But Carlos took to fatherhood naturally. His fear only made him more mindful, more sweet with both of them, more purposeful of prioritizing his family and holding up his promises.

He knows he would have taken Jonah in on his own if he had to, but this family wouldn’t be the same without Carlos.

Carlos, who is always coaxed into reading at least two extra stories when he tucks Jonah in at night, because he always reads them in the silly voices that Jonah adores.

Carlos, who lets Jonah ride around on his shoulders through the farmers market, the same one they’ve been going to almost every weekend since he and TK first started dating. The vendors they know by name, June, who provided the flower arrangements for their wedding, Marisol, who always gives Carlos an extra sample of her raspberry honey, and Maurice, who’s lamb rounds are the only cut of lamb Carlos will use for his carnitas, all love Jonah and have stickers and sweets for him when they stop by their booths.

Carlos, who spent an hour digging through boxes in his parents’ garage one afternoon after TK called him at work to tell him Jonah had the flu and that he’d been feeling so rotten he was practically inconsolable. He came home with Kique, his old stuffed koala, and put on a little puppet show in Jonah’s room until he fell asleep.

TK Strand is living a full, beautiful life. And it’s due in no small part to the man that’s walking through it by his side.

Later, when Jonah has gone up to brush his teeth before he and Carlos head out, TK corrals Carlos in the foyer where he’s just finished packing up his work satchel and pulling his boots on. He hands Carlos Jonah’s lunchbox and leans in for a kiss.

“You remind me of him, you know,” he says softly when he pulls back from their kiss, running a hand lightly over Carlos’s hair. He still gels his curls back for work, but since he wears the cowboy hat with his Rangers uniform, TK doesn’t have to be quite so careful not to mess it up as he did back when he was working as a patrol officer.

“Babe,” Carlos says, eyes going dark and shiny.

“It’s true,” TK says, cupping Carlos’s cheek with a soft hand. “It’s in the way you love us, the little ways you take care of us.” He moves his hand down to Carlos’s chest and rubs over his heart. “You’re an amazing man, an incredible father. He’s proud of you, I know it.”

“Thank you, baby,” Carlos replies, voice rough and eyes soft with fondness.

“You don’t have to thank me,” TK says, leaning up for another kiss, quicker this time. He knows they’ve got seconds before Jonah comes flying back into the room. “I always wanna make sure you know. You’re everything to me, to us. And we love you very much. I don’t know what we would do without you.”

“I love you too. You are both so precious to me.” Carlos smiles, grabbing TK’s hand and cradling it between their chests. “And you’ll never have to find out. I’m not going anywhere.”

The sound of little feet pattering across the hardwood floor is all the warning they get before Jonah is upon them.

“Are you KISSING?” he shouts.

“Not anymore,” TK mutters under his breath, causing Carlos to laugh and playfully flick the side of his head before he turns his attention to Jonah.

Read on ao3

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[astracora]

A Mandated Holiday Break - Chapter 5

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: Loose spoilers for 'Mischief' anecdote and Sylus Myth.

Word Count: 1275

Written: 21st December 2024

Notes: Post-relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

You've passed out, midway through some movie about a man in green visiting some city in search of his father. Sometime during your movie marathon with Sylus, he'd noticed you'd stopped caring what you'd put on. He'd gotten too invested in Die Hard (a Christmas movie, you swore), and had been more than horrified that the inaccuracies didn't bother you.

At that point you'd stopped showing him movies you really loved, instead giggling with glee at making him watch some of the worst or silliest things you could find. To see his nose scrunch, and what you'd (incorrectly) called his snobby rich boy taste.

Of all the movies you could watch, he refused to understand why toilet humour had entertained you so.

It hadn't, he thinks, his inability to not roll his eyes, had been your goal.

Still, the laughter had been worth it. He would do anything to hear it forever, so perhaps he'd let you play terrible movies for the end of time.

As you murmured in your sleep, at which he'd lowered his head to try to make words out. (Something about a farmers market, and a duck?) He'd left your side, reluctant but knowing you needed to eat. Something other than cookies. You'd at least drank the water he made sure was at your side, if he left you alone he thinks you'd subsist off caffeine.

When he untangles himself from you, carefully, so carefully because while he'd love to bring you with him, the bags under your eyes demand more sleep than you've been getting. He checks you over once more, tugging the soft pink blanket over you. (It doesn't match the decor but you'd said pink suited him. He'd given you a look of disbelief... but he hadn't stopped using it since. Despite running a higher temperature than anyone you knew.)

He met the twins in the kitchen, stuffing sugar cookies into their mouths, as soon as they heard the door open. Two pairs of guilty, wide eyes shot to stare.

He's seen raccoons before, digging through food in the bins. He won't compare them, out loud, but the look is similar. "You better hope the doctor doesn't count those." Luke gulps, Kieran fidgets.

There was little the doctor was protective over, or possessive over. Sugar, and the kitten curled up on his sofa, were the two that mattered. He'd also been informed of their presence, waiting for him.

Sylus knows no matter what, even the N109 zone wouldn't keep the good doctor away from either of those things, especially in the same room.

With a smug, little self satisfied purr, he stuffs one of the fresh baked cookies into his mouth.

Food was always better shared, than alone, as he'd learned over the years.

"Is it dinner time?" Luke asks, swinging his legs as he jumps back up on the counter. Watching Sylus grab things from around the room, pulling his phone out to find a recipe he'd been sent by the prince.

'I want to make this.'

'I'm not letting you make it in my kitchen.'

'They'll like it.'

'They won't like the base being set on fire.'

In the end he'd promised to make it instead. If only to save everyone from the prince's electronic based curse.

He nods at the question, and as he watches the two out the corner of his eye, he realises he has no idea when they started living here.

He's aware of the time they've been working for him, he remembers the day he met them vividly. He's deeply familiar with how he felt watching them struggle against Ever's bonds.

The crystals gouged out of skin, the pain, the yearning. It had twisted parts of his chest, and torn at old memories he wished he could forget.

It was never easy to separate from the past, it stayed a part of you even if you desperately wished it wouldn't.

Still, he has no recollection for when they went from visiting for work, to staying, always present unless they wanted to explore together. Talking to him with candour... no, formality was never the twin's forte.

Something had changed, however, and he wasn't sure when.

He follows steps as he muses, though doesn't share his thinking out loud, after all, they seem content to just watch. Sticking leftover crumbs in their mouths, and chattering to each other.

Sylus doesn't really know when making meals for others became like this, he started because it made you happy, he continued because he liked doing it. A simple task, but it garnered praise, and joy. Food was not something he'd needed before, now, however, it was a gift to be shared.

It was simply just as easy to prepare for four (five, as he makes enough to save a plate for the prince), as it was for two.

Kieran hums the song that you were playing earlier, still out of tune, and he has to bite back his laugh, but finds himself joining in. He doesn't remember the words yet he's never discontent for his mind to remember you in every song he ever hears.

"Hey Hunter!"

"Morning!"

You enter the room, rubbing at your eyes, and he finds himself smiling at you easily. It's more a quirk of the lips, and garnet eyes melting, but you smile back as though he's beaming.

Perhaps in his way, he is. He's still unpracticed with joy. With emotions.

Showing them is hard, so he speaks them and he places them into your hands (for your heart to keep) in actions.

He refuses to let you think he is not earnest. Never to lie, never to flatter. You will never doubt his affections, he promises.

As you yawn and pull yourself up onto the kitchen counter, and he wonders why he bothered to buy stools for the bar. None of you seem to use them, content to hover too close. Comment and talk and titter away.

When he'd asked, you'd shrugged. "I like to be tall." You'd teased, kissing his forehead at the height the counter allowed you.

His cheeks had flamed and he'd blinked. Surprised and confused. Until the feeling settled into a burning need. So hungry and desperate and clawing, he'd pulled you in by the back of your neck and bitten, kissed and licked his way up your throat.

Your laughter and sighs had stuck in his head for weeks after.

He found himself wishing you'd do it again, every single time you sat on the counter to watch him cook.

Instead of the twins singing, though you seem to find it entertaining to watch them relax, you reconnect your phone to the sound system he installed in the kitchen.

For you, ever since he visited your own place to see your speakers hooked up on the wall, humming away as you baked bread. Told him music made any task better, even the ones you hated.

Sylus has been so used to solitude his entire life. Before the abyss, after the abyss. He's spent longer alone, than he has with others. Even when he built Onychinus, ground up, clawing and scratching to his makeshift throne, nothing had touched that solitude.

His time in the clouds had been short in comparison. A blip.

A torn out moment as close to bliss as he could ever have thought to get.

This. Here. A low chuckle in his throat, songs in the air, and warmth in his joined heart... he could not bear to trade or lose.

Even when one of the twins, pointing at each other when whirled on, throws a slice of carrot at his head.

[more-than-a-princess]

Every telephone call, to Sonia's surprise, had been in vain.

After a run, breakfast, and a bath, she'd made her way down to the stables in the late morning now more properly attired for the horses: tall black boots that had a recent coat of polish, jodhpurs, and a crisp white button down shirt tucked beneath a tweed jacket. Modest pearl earrings adorned her ears, elegant but sporty, as required of a princess with some proficiency atop a horse.

She'd been prepared to do two things: say farewell to Selene, whose owner had surely been located by then, and go for a ride on Persephone, who likely felt neglected due to her care of their temporary guest. As it turned out, she would do neither: Persephone had lost a shoe and Selene, for all the inquiries made on her behalf, had turned up with nothing to show for it. One of the royal vets after examining her had even scanned her for a microchip, and yet nothing had turned up.

She was, then, as mysterious as her namesake.

"I don't know what to make of it, Your Royal Highness," Nico sighed, shaking his head as Sonia ran her hand down Selene's neck. The red blanket now removed, her coat remained just as shiny as it had been after Sonia had groomed her the night before. "No one in the area's got a horse like her, though I can't deny there were several interested parties in acquiring her."

"I'm sure," Sonia muttered. They'd brought the horse out of her stall and outside to one of the hitching posts, hoping the fresh air and some gentle pats to the neck (from Sonia, of course) would ease her anxiety. Fresh hay and the apple Sonia now presented to her would likely also soothe her nerves, or so the princess hoped. "From her description alone, I do not doubt she would be of interest. We will need to keep checking but in the meantime, the least we can do is get the farrier out. Persephone's lost a shoe anyway and it will be more comfortable for this one to be trimmed, filed, and shoed too."

"Right away, ma'am," Nico nodded, stepping away from Sonia and the horse to take out his mobile phone to place a call. But a moment later he'd quickly hung up in favor of a bow instead. "Good morning, Your Majesty!"

"Morning, Nico," Came the calm, yet pleasant voice in return. Sonia had a 50/50 chance of guessing which of Their Majesties was coming to visit the stables, but her hopes had been answered: her mother tended to arrive when her horse, Hera, was already groomed, tacked, and ready to be ridden.

Her father, in comparison, was far more amenable to spending time with the horses, the stablehands, and his own daughter, when he found the time and didn't use it to chide or nag her. Something he'd explained over and over to his only child that her mother did so only because raising the next monarch of Novoselic was her primary responsibility, outside of her charities and running the households. Any perceived imperfections in the Princess of Novoselic would be attributed to the Queen, not the King.

Sonia still scoffed at the notion when it was mentioned, but she greeted her father with a smile instead. He was positively casual to the point of comfort, in tailored jeans, a pressed oxford shirt, and a tweed blazer, a stark contrast to the usual suits, tuxedos, and tailcoats he sported on a variety of different occasions. His tousled golden blonde hair was darker and warmer than Sonia's own pale, platinum blonde, but they shared the same blue eyes. Nevermind Blue, as royal experts had dubbed them, and they both lit up seeing the horse.

"So this is the new arrival, then?" King Alexandre of Novoselic stopped near his daughter, close enough but with enough personal space for the horse. "Nico hasn't found her owner yet?"

"That's right," Sonia replied, her smile fading as she took a handkerchief out of her jacket pocket, wiping her hands clean of apple remnants. "Truth be told, I am worried he may not: she has told me she comes all the way from Germany, father."

"You are...talking to the horses and receiving an intelligible response?" He asked warily, giving Sonia a concerned look. One that Sonia replied to with a deep sigh, shake of her head, and another pat to Selene's neck.

"Yes, I am," She retorted, "We have an understanding. She needed help and she trusted me. She followed me all the way back to the manor, you know."

"She is an excellent judge of character, I won't begrudge her for that," Her father nodded in the horse's direction, giving her a smile. "But Sonia, you really are at an age that it is not favorable to mention such things. Even in front of the staff now. You are an adult, you need friends in our circles."

"Which seems impossible to form anything other than acquaintances," Sonia said, her attention more on the horse than on the conversation at hand. "You sent me to Japan, and then to England, to gain my education befitting the next monarch of Novoselic. And yet I return home to where so much of the social events seem hollow and empty. Everyone just wants to gossip, especially about me: who I should be dating, when I'll get married, when I'll have the next heir. God forbid anyone wants to talk about anything real, or even anything passionate. No one has an opinion on anything by Robert Eggers or Mike Flanagan."

"I thank you for not bringing up your horror films and serial killer documentaries at royal functions," He said firmly, though his rigid stance softened at the disappointment on his daughter's face. "People might misunderstand and think something that isn't true about you. You cannot afford to turn away such people, Sonia: no one is an island. Even if this country is an absolute monarchy, you cannot do it on your own. I certainly can't. It will behoove you to make real friends with other aristocrats, maybe go on a date or two-"

"I would, if I found someone worth pursuing," Sonia cut in with a huff. "You do not need to remind me about the mounting pressure of delivering a happily ever after and a continued family line. But this horse...I have bonded with her. At this point, I truly hope no one comes to take her home."

Sonia smiled, reaching her hand out to Selene's muzzle for the horse to rub against, if she pleased. "Would you like that? To stay here?"

The night had settled in, and all the other horses in the barn were peacefully asleep. Yet, there she stood, a solitary figure in her stall, grappling with the confusion of her surroundings. The rules of this new place eluded her, but her body instinctively communicated its needs. Her long, white tail flicked back and forth, a sign of her weariness after a long day filled with uncertainty and a journey that had led her here. She wanted to believe in the kindness of the people around her, to trust that they meant her no harm. As she remained still, gentle hands brushed down her legs, along her neck, and across her face, soothing her enough to stave off panic.

She resisted the urge to be the wild and dangerous white horse they thought she was, but just as she thought she could relax, the grooming began anew. To her surprise, the gentle hands worked diligently to untangle the knots in her mane and tail. She hadn’t realized how disheveled she had become, covered in dirt, grass, leaves, and twigs from her journey through the forest and fields to this enchanting place that felt like something out of a storybook. The soft strokes along her neck and sides kept her calm for the moment, even as her tail flicked in response to the gentle tugging. She shifted slightly, feeling the tightness of her stall, but there was nowhere else to go. Focusing on her breathing, she felt a pang of guilt as she watched the groomer’s dress collect the remnants of her travels. She had been advised to stay still, to avoid any sudden movements that might cause harm, and so she remained, caught between trust and trepidation.

How long had this woman been working away niw, diligently scrubbing, brushing and cleaning away the dirt? As she cast her gaze downward, she noticed her once-dirtied legs where cleaned and her hooves now gleamed like pristine hooves, free of any filth. A sense of satisfaction washed over her as she felt the gentle caress of the noble lady's touch on her neck, a sensation she had come to cherish. What had begun as a mere acquaintance had blossomed into a friendship filled with kind words and mutual admiration. She nodded in agreement, reveling in the shared preference for the coolness of night stars over the sun's warmth, and the way the darkness seemed to retreat before them and leave them be. Turning her hand to admire, she marveled at how soft and clean she had become through the ladies own efforts.

Selene

She paused to observe the woman as she carefully stowed away her grooming tools. The flick of her white pointed ears signaled her interest as she began to talk about horses and their distinctive names, eventually selecting one for herself. The kindness of this stranger took her by surprise; no one had ever shown her such warmth and generosity before. If tears were possible, she might have shed them, but instead, she simply lowered her head and gently bumped it against her chest, a silent gesture of gratitude. She truly liked the name.

Her gaze followed the woman as she retrieved a large blanket, tilting her head in curiosity. It was designed for someone of her stature, lined with soft fleece and adorned with scarlet thread, promising warmth against the chill. She remained still as it was draped over her, snugly secured with straps and buckles.

Taking a moment to admire her once again, so many new things, she nodded in approval of the lady's handiwork. As the woman approached, she felt a mix of surprise and trust, aware of the potential danger but reassured by the kindness that had already blossomed between them. She leaned her nose against the woman's forehead, inhaling softly, savoring the moment. The gentle breath that blew her hair across her face felt like a tender goodnight that she could offer. As the woman prepared to leave, she looked up at her stall, feeling a newfound sense of safety and comfort, all thanks to the lady's efforts. She was ready to embrace the morning ahead.

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[6-epigraphs]

Have we ever seen this old man being affectionate with drivers or other juniors? Or just Yuki? I don't even think I've seen him this close to Max and Seb (off the podium at least)

Brother.

[protagonist-art]

"Uh- I'm Arnold. Bennett. It's profoundly difficult to get your lifes works and studies accepted if your name isn't... yes, oh! Are you a fan of moths, sir?"

NEW RDR2 OC!! a reclusive, clumsy entomologist and bug collector; cooped up in his study of uniformed clutter

[sol-arium126]

hyperfixation so bad it’s got me writing fanfic for a writing club i’m in