#birthday flowers in richmond

[its-time-to-write]

What about Jaime liking someone who works at/owns a flower shop so he keeps making excuses to come in and get flowers? Richmond is real confused about why he’s giving away so many bouquets all of the sudden

(Ps I love love love your work! I’ve got it so I get an alert whenever you post because of how much I love it!)

this one turned out SO CUTE I hope you like it!

wishing on every one

You know you’re fucked as soon as he walks through the door of your shop. 

Then he tells you he’s looking for flowers for his mum who’s visiting him for the first time, and you know you’re extra fucked. 

He’s absolutely gorgeous, especially in the soft light streaming through your flower shop windows, framed by the vibrant hues of the plants lining the shelves.

Then he says, “I’m Jamie,” peers at your name tag, and tells you that you have a lovely name. You’re blushing the entire time you lead him around the shop, answering each one of his questions as best you can without stuttering. He cracks jokes, picks out a nice bunch, and leaves you one flower for yourself on his way out. 

And then, the next week, he comes back. 

Jamie Tartt, AFC Richmond’s star footballer, comes back to your shop and flirts with you again. 

Of course you know who he his, you knew the moment he stepped through the door. You live in Richmond after all, and you agree with the great Dani Rojas that here, football is life. It’s just hard to believe that your favorite footballer is back in your tiny little store and maybe sort of kinda definitely flirting with you.

You don’t let it get to your head (much). It’s Jamie Tartt, you’ve seen him on Lust Conquers All. To him, flirting is like breathing. You also don’t tell anyone, although you feel like you’re bursting inside. Your flat mate notes that you’re smiling more and that you always seem to be humming, and could you please maybe be careful when you’re skipping around because she just mopped the floor and doesn’t want you to slip. 

But Jamie Tartt keeps coming back; first once a week, then twice, then about every other day. He follows you around as you help him choose flowers for all kinds of occasions, and then he’a gone again, leaving you to wonder which time will be the last. 

—

At Nelson Road, things are in chaos. 

Ok, maybe chaos is too strong a word. Things are… out of the ordinary. 

Well, but things have been out of the ordinary ever since Ted Lasso showed up. 

Things are… weird. Yeah, that’s a good word. They’re weird. And “they,” refers to Jamie. 

It starts off simple enough. It's Sam’s birthday, so Jamie shows up with some flowers. He heard Sam say they were his favorites, so it makes sense that he’d bring them. No one notices anything. 

The next week, he’s brought some for Ms. Welton. 

“It’s for all the shit you do that we don’t know about,” he explains. “Didn’t want you to think we didn’t notice.”

Rebecca doesn’t comment on the double negative, just smiles and says, “Thank you, Jamie,” as Keeley sits forward on the couch in a slight state of shock. The Jamie she was with had never done something like that for her romantically, and here he is doing it platonically. Holy shit, he really has changed. 

Rebecca also doesn’t take the flowers to mean something they don’t. She knows that the team looks to her with the same respect they would afford an older sister or even a mother (although she is not old enough). Strangely, she doesn’t mind. It makes her feel loved in a way she’s unused to, and the flowers from Jamie hang upside down on her wall so they can be immortalized. 

Barely a week after that, he’s gotten some for Keeley. “It’s to make up for the ones I never got you,” he tells her. They’re all bright pink with fluffy petals. Keeley wraps her arms around Jamie with a squeal of delight. Roy grunts angrily, so Jamie pulls out a bunch of dark red and black flowers. “Didn’t leave you out, grandad,” he grins as Roy pretends to hate the bouquet. But even he isn’t cold-hearted enough to hate flowers.

Suddenly, people are getting flowers every other day. It’s become Jamie’s thing. Ted gets some sunflowers when he seems like he’s missing home a little extra. Will gets a bunch of sweet-smelling flowers that Jamie doesn’t know the name of, but he knows that purple one’s lavender because he remembers how you told him it reminded you of growing up. Dani gets a bundle of tulips and it almost makes him pass out from excitement, but luckily Isaac is there to catch him. 

Dani is firmly seated on the bench in the locker room and Jan Maas has removed all tulips except one, and now Isaac has the chance to turn to Jamie and ask the question that’s on everyone’s mind. 

“What gives, bruv?”

Those three words make Jamie turn bright red, but he shrugs it off with a laugh. 

“What, can’t get me best mates flowers?”

“It is a little better than the PS5s,” Richard says. There’s a chorus of agreement, much to the surprise of Coach Beard. 

Jamie thinks he’s in the clear and his face isn’t red anymore but then Dani says, “Jamie Tartt, why did you decide to give us flowers and not some other expensive gaming device?” and Jamie knows he’s completely and utterly fucked. He did not think this far. He has no excuse, no lie, so what comes out of his mouth is, “The flower shop girl’s fit,” and then the locker room completely descends into chaos. 

The boys are firing questions at Jamie faster than he can even understand them, and Ted’s just laughing at the pure pandemonium. He remembers similar moments when coaching other football teams, American ones, and the good feeling that comes along with “boys being boys,” in the way the phrase was originally intended. 

All pertinent information is successfully extracted from Jamie before the team heads home, except your name and which flower shop it is. Colin says that’s the most important bit, but Jamie refuses to tell them more than the fact that your laugh makes the sun shine brighter. Isaac nods thoughtfully and Roy shakes his head, but it’s with a fondness he reserves only for his team. 

It could be any shop, really. There are conversations across the parking lot of the best way to figure out which one it is and Jamie’s getting nervous when he hears Ted’s voice call his name.

He turns, and Ted hurries over to where Jamie’s car is parked. 

He carefully places a hand on Jamie’s shoulder (softly, unlike the crushing grip of his father) and looks Jamie straight in the eye. 

“Jamie, life’s too short to beat around the bush. You like her. I think it would be best if you rose to the occasion and just asked her out. I be-leaf in you, son. You just gotta get clover it and do what you gotta do.”

Jamie doesn’t pick on the flower puns until about the third one. He’s laughing a little bit and Ted is too, all while regarding Jamie with a soft look that Jamie always wished his father would give him. Ted pulls Jamie in for a hug and says, “In all seriousness man, we’re rooting for you.” 

Jamie gives him a look, which makes Ted hold up his hands in defense. “Alright, alright, I’m done,” he says. “For now.” Then he winks and headed to meet Coach Beard. 

—

It’s the middle of the afternoon when the bell on your door jingles, and you look up from the register hoping to see Jamie. 

Instead, you see a middle-aged man with a mustache smiling at you. 

He says, “Howdy,” in a way that is so very American, that you can’t help but break into a wide smile. 

“Hi!” you reply, “How can I help you?”

“My name’s Ted Lasso,” he says walking toward you. “I coach football here in Richmond.”

You’re still grinning. “I know who you are, Coach Lasso. I’m a big Richmond supporter. Have been since I was a kid.”

“Just Ted is fine,” says Just Ted. “I usually don’t like to introduce myself along with my job title because it makes me seem all uppity, but I thought it might make more sense if I did.”

You scrunch your nose in confusion so Ted says, “You were expecting to see Jamie today, is that right?”

You nod. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Jamie’s coach is in your flower shop and he knows that you like him and he’s probably going to tell you you can never see Jamie again because that’s the only logical reason he’s here, right? Maybe Jamie’s been skipping practice to be here with you and that all has to end now because football is life and you of all people should know that. Shit. 

Ted must be able to see the panic on your face because he shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry darlin’, it ain’t anything bad. I’m only here to let you know that boy’s got it down bad for you.”

Wait, what?

“Oh,” you reply. 

“Yeah, oh,” Ted chuckles. “Why’d you think he was here all the time?”

“I- I don’t know,” you say. “He flirts with everyone. I’m nothing extra special.”

Ted shakes his head again. “There’s where you’re wrong. You’re somethin’ extra special. Did you know I found you based on the way Jamie talked about you alone? He didn’t even give your name, but I’ve been in here once or twice myself and I must say, he was right when he said the sun shines a little brighter when you smile. I figured it had to be you the moment he said that.”

You’re smiling again. Jamie said that about you? To his coach?

Ted’s talking again. “Listen,” he says, a little more serious, “Jamie’s like a son to me. And sometimes dads need to give their sons a little push so they can get rid of their training wheels and just go for it, you know what I mean?” 

You’re at a loss but Ted just grins. “I got here exactly three minutes before the boys take a break for lunch, which means that Jamie should be in here-” the bell at the door jingles “-right about now.”

“Coach?” Jamie asks, looking very adorable and very confused. “What’re you doing here?”

Ted shrugs. “Sometimes dads gotta take things into their own hands. Give you a little extra boost, as it were. Figured you’d be in here forever before you got the guts to make a move and by then Nelson Road would be completely overrun by flowers. Not that that’s a bad thing,” he says with a glance to you. “Anyway. I’ll be on my merry little way. Beard’s saving me a seat at our favorite lunch spot.”

Ted waves a two finger goodbye and pats Jamie on the shoulder as he heads out the door, bell ringing behind him. 

“So,” you say, making your way around the counter over to Jamie. 

“So…” he replies, looking down at you. 

You take his hand. “Heard from a reliable source that you have a crush on me.”

Jamie grins. “Ain’t a crush babe, I’m a grown lad.  Think it’s somethin’ a little more real.”

“Uh huh,” you say, smiling back at him. “Well it just so happens that I also have a crush on you as well as a thirty-minute lunch break that starts right about now…”

[katsu28]

Hi!! May I request a Roy Kent x Fem!reader with the Alstroemeria prompt as well as the “saying I love you in between kisses” from the physical intimacy prompts? Please & thank you!! 🤗

thank you so much for requesting and for allowing me my first attempt at writing roy! <3

alstroemeria: going to an event that the other person is interested in just to see them happy + saying i love you in between kisses, roy kent x fem!reader, swearing ofc (it's roy, what did we expect), 1.2k

Roy Kent had never looked as out of place somewhere as he did right now. Broad and tall, covered head to toe in black leather and denim, scowling at the world around him like he’d been personally wronged by it, he proved a stark contrast to the quaint little farmers’ market you'd dragged him to. 

The market itself had been popping up near your place every weekend and you’d been hinting at wanting to go with Roy, but he never wanted to. Going by yourself was always a choice, but there was something about roaming the cobbled streets browsing for fruits and veggies and other cute trinkets with your lovely (albeit perpetually grumpy) boyfriend that just seemed so…domestic.

You’d recently moved in together and this was the perfect way to jumpstart your lives with each other. Maybe you’d get some fun knick knacks for your shelves, or a painting for your walls. 

He’d said no to going the first few times, but once he caught sight of your sad little frown he caved instantly, promising the two of you would go this coming Saturday. That was today, and you were beyond excited. 

You made sure to get there early so you could have the best pick of everything, and to avoid the crowd—another reason you suspected Roy kept turning down your invitations. He was a private guy, so purposely going someplace where he would be recognized almost immediately wasn’t really his cup of tea. Most Richmond fans were fine, but with social media nowadays, some always meant more, and more often than not that always led to the two of you being swarmed and having to go home before you could do whatever you’d left the house for. 

But until that happened, you could just enjoy this time you had with your boyfriend, walking hand in hand through the area. Rows and rows of stalls with fresh fruits and veggies, bunches of flowers bursting with vibrant colors, baked goods alongside jars of jams and honey. It was overwhelming in the best possible way. You didn’t know where to start, so you went everywhere, milling around aimlessly, perusing the tables and chatting with folks along the way. 

Roy grunted his approval at some things, raising a brow at others that had you putting it down. If he really liked it, he would nod, and you picked up a little something. Ingredients for this week’s dinners, a still warm loaf of crusty sourdough with a jar of orange marmalade to go with that you were looking forward to enjoying when you got home, a beautiful set of handmade earrings for Keeley’s upcoming birthday—even a mug with a coffee pun on the side of it for Ted that Roy snorted at.

Had you been paying a little bit more attention to Roy, you would've seen him almost, almost smiling as he watched you scurry from tent to tent to explore. You were enjoying yourself, and that was all he could ever ask for.

You were less than halfway through the market when you spotted the cutest little flower tent off to the side. 

“Roy, look! Flowers!” You exclaimed, practically skipping over to one stand with the prettiest arrangements you’d ever seen. Roy trailed behind you like a stoic shadow, looking half nauseated by the bright colors.

Wandering a little further into the tent, you grew more and more in awe at the sheer beauty of each bundle of flowers. They were perfect, each bud and leaf handpicked to create a masterpiece, but one bunch in particular caught your eye. 

Gorgeous pale pink alstroemeria surrounded by hyacinth in the lightest of yellows, tiny daisies paired with another tiny white flower you didn’t recognize dotting the dark green leaves. It was a simple arrangement, but still beautiful in an effortless kind of way. 

You’d never been more obsessed with anything in your life (except for maybe Roy). 

“They’re nice.” He observed with a sharp nod, but he was more focused on the way your face had lit up when you’d spotted the flowers. 

You turned to him, beaming. “Should we get some? We can put them on the table in the breakfast nook, maybe brighten up the place a little bit.” 

“Brighten up the place? There’s a window, I think it’s fucking bright enough.” He grumbled, but he just looked mildly amused. “Besides, I have allergies.” 

“Yeah, to rabbits, not flowers.” You reasoned, giving him a teasing nudge with your elbow. 

“Same fucking thing!” 

“It’s really not.” 

You ended up leaving the tent without the flowers, opting to forgo them in favor of possibly picking up some other things whilst you continued your market explorations. You’d been a little sad, but Roy kissed your temple and laced his fingers through yours and everything was fine again. They were just flowers after all. 

Roy stopped in his tracks a few stands later, digging his buzzing phone out of his pocket. “You go ahead, I’ve gotta take this call. It’s Ted.” 

You hummed in agreement, giving his hand a squeeze before moving to walk ahead. “Tell Ted I said cheers!” Roy grunted again, stepping off to the side to speak in hushed tones. 

As a result of leaving Roy to his own devices, you actually lost him for a while, but you assumed your grump of a boyfriend would find his way back to you eventually. He always found you. You stopped for a second to readjust the produce in your tote, and when you looked up there he was, wading through the crowd a head above the rest, searching for you with a bouquet of the flowers you’d been eyeing earlier clutched in his fist. 

He reached you quickly, thrusting the flowers out towards you. “For brightness in the fucking breakfast nook.” 

“What made you change your mind?” 

“They made you happy.” 

“You’re just a big softie, aren’t you, Roy Kent?” You were all smiles again, reaching out to pat his stubbled cheek. 

Roy rolled his eyes, but there was still a whisper of a smile gracing his lips. “Yeah, yeah, don’t fucking tell anyone.” 

You stifled a giggle, grabbing him by the front of his jacket and pulling him in for a kiss. His free hand instantly came up to loop around your waist, thumbing at the strip of bare skin between your shirt and jeans. 

“I love you,” You mumbled against his lips, pulling back for just a second to admire his softened features. The hard line of his brow was relaxed for once, his usual angry scowl nowhere to be found. He was looking down at you like the two of you were the only ones in the world right now, already leaning back in for another kiss that you gladly went along with, sliding your hand around the back of his neck. “God, I fucking love you. You’re perfect. How are you so perfect?” 

“Could be asking you the same fucking thing, can’t I?” He grumbled, looking a tad annoyed that you’d suddenly grown talkative in the middle of a makeout sesh. Part of you felt guilty because Roy didn’t usually enjoy this much PDA when you were out and about, so maybe you should’ve been taking advantage of it. 

“I asked first.” 

“I’m not perfect. But I love you, and that seems pretty fucking perfect to me.” 

“Who are you and what’ve you done with the real Roy Kent?” You gasped playfully, drawing yet another eye roll from him. He kissed you one more time for good measure, short and sweet, before easing the heavy tote from your shoulder and hiking it onto his. 

“Let’s fucking go home now. I wanna try some of that bread you got earlier while it’s still fresh.” 

“And so you can pick out the biggest piece from the middle? Fucking heathen.” 

“I’m the heathen? You like the fucking ends! Who the fuck likes eating the bread’s ass?” 

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[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 279. brb x oc

a/n: short because I WANNA WRITE THE DOUBLE SMUT NOW NOW NOW (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

/253/254/255/256/257/258/259/260/261/262/263/264/265/266

/267/268/269/270/271/272/273/274/275/276/277/278

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-

When he was young, around eleven, he remembers his mother took him to a mom and pop diner by Richmond. He had left soccer practice, it was raining and his birthday was going to be on the very next day but…things happened and his mother couldn’t prepare a party for him.

So they went into this diner as a storm poured down violently, he sat down and the two shared a cupcake with colorful star sprinkles. It wasn’t what she planned, she told him then, but she hoped he’d like it.

And he was so happy.

Just like now.

He was sitting on a chair, surrounded by his family and Bea’s family, his daughter was trying her best to get used to the birthday crown on her head while trying to follow her bigger cousins’ footsteps around the garden - they covered the pool for this so there was no danger of anyone falling into it. Bianca was kind enough to hold Nicole’s little hand as they walked around, trying to involve her into the game.

He turns the beer bottle in his hand, his sunglasses low on his nose and he feels Beatrice’s hands coming on his shoulders. He tilts his head back only to see her face upside down, smiling at him, “Hey.” she says, “How’s Hangman doing on the grill?”

Rooster tilted his head to where the blonde pilot was, then pursed his lips, “I mean,he’s from Texas, so he’s gotta be good at it. I’m taking my good ol’ time enjoying myself.”

“As you should.” she says, kissing his forehead, “You need anything?”

Rooster turned his attention back to Beatrice, who was now crouched down beside him. He flashed a warm smile at her. "I'm good for now, Bea. The grill's in capable hands with Hangman, and everything's going smoothly. How are you holding up? Everything alright with our little party planner?"

Beatrice chuckled and leaned closer to him, her sunglasses reflecting the vibrant atmosphere. "I'm just making sure everything runs smoothly, but it's been great so far. I'm happy to see you enjoying yourself, Roos." She glanced over to where Nicole was still trying to navigate the birthday party "And it looks like Nicole is having fun with her cousins."

He followed Beatrice's gaze to their daughter, watching as she took tiny, determined steps with Bianca guiding her. "Yeah, she's doing great, isn't she?" he mused, his heart swelling with pride. "...she doesn’t have any idea what to do and that’s adorable."

Beatrice smiles with both hands on his arm. "It is,isn’t it?” she looks back inside to where she sees Shells carrying a box of stuff to the counter, “I’m going to help Shells." She smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Help?” he moves to stand up but Beatrice stops him and he notices she’s wearing that dress. The dress she wore during the barbecue.The white one with little yellow flowers, the one that made her look like a fairy.

“Don’t worry,” she turns around and the skirt flutters like magic, “I’ll be alright, stay seated. It’s your birthday too,Roos.”

Rooster nodded as he watched Beatrice go inside to lend Shells a hand, admiring…that dress and quickly moving his gaze away when he remembered that,oh, he was not alone in this area right now and this could easily be awkward!!

Inside, Beatrice blinked when Shells placed the box down and leaned against it to regain her breathing, “Shells, what’s that?”

“Listen,” her friend holds up a hand, still regaining her breath, “Your daughter is like,” she moves her hand faster, “Like my niece even though we aren’t related so,I thought, what do one year olds like? And I was like ‘well Nikki is smarter than a normal one year old’ so I had to search more.”

"Alright, Shells, you've got my attention. What's in the box?" Beatrice inquired, unable to contain her curiosity crossing her arms.

Shells took a deep breath and held up a hand in a dramatic gesture, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Nikki, is growing up, and we can't let her birthday go by without something special. I did some research – well, quite a lot, actually – and I found the perfect gift for her."

Beatrice's eyes widened as she realized what Shells was hinting at. "You…you researched?”

Shells nodded vigorously, her enthusiasm obvious. "Yes! And it's not just any present, Bea. It's something that she'll love and can enjoy as she grows. I had to make sure it was the best choice for our little genius."

Beatrice laughs in disbelief, shaking her head before approaching the box. "Shells,I didn't expect you to do that. You really didn't have to. You could’ve given her anything that she’d loved it."

Shells shrugged and smiled. "Well, yeah sure but that’s boring- no offense to…anyone who did give her that though. Plus, I couldn't resist getting something special for her."

“Alright…so…what is it?” 

Shells was vibrating with excitement, slowly opening the cardboard box, “Behold.”

As Shells carefully opened the cardboard box, she revealed the contents inside. Beatrice leaned closer, her curiosity growing as she peered inside to see the special gift her friend had chosen for Nicole's first birthday.

With an eager flourish, Shells lifted a beautifully wrapped package from the box. The wrapping paper was adorned with colorful animals and vibrant balloons, making it perfect for a one-year-old's celebration. The package was neatly tied with a bright red ribbon, creating a captivating contrast to the pattern on the paper.

Beatrice couldn't help but smile at the thought and effort Shells had put into selecting and presenting the gift. "Wow, Shells, you really went all out."

Shells chuckled, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I wanted to make it special, Bea. She's turning one, after all. It's a significant milestone. And this is just the wrapping.” she places it in Bea’s hands, “All yours.”

She gently tugged at the ribbon, untying the bow, and carefully unwrapped the present. The moment the wrapping paper fell away, Beatrice's eyes widened in pleasant surprise at the sight of the gift.

Beatrice pulled out an assortment of vibrant, plush toys, each featuring different patterns and textures. There were soft, crinkly fabric animals that would catch Nicole's attention, a small, squeaky rubber duck that was perfect for bath time, and even a miniature xylophone with colorful keys that looked like it could make an enticing sound.

Beatrice couldn't help but laugh in sheer delight at the eclectic mix of baby toys. "Shells, this is amazing! Nikki is going to have so much fun with all of these." she pauses, “And so…chaotic…”

Shells clapped her hands together, beaming with pride. "I know,right!It has a bit of everything to stimulate her senses."

Beatrice carefully examined each toy, feeling the soft textures, squeezing the duck, and even tapping on the tiny xylophone keys. "You really thought of everything, Shells.Thank you so much!”

Shells waved off her gratitude, still grinning widely. "No need to thank me. Well, no, thank me because I thought of this and I was like, woah. Woah." she props her hands on her waist then tilts her head, “I also chugged four energy drinks on the way over,I’m like, buzzin’.”

“...why did you-”

“Babes, I’m just in the vibes, you know.”

She did not know and honestly was worried to ask. “Um…should I call…Bob?I know you two came in separate cars and he got here first,so…”

“Naaahh, it’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yup.”

Beatrice blinks, then points down the hallway, “You remember where the guest room is…right? If you need to lie down.”

Shells chuckled, her energy level seemingly unaffected by the energy drinks she'd consumed. "Oh, I'll be just fine, Bea. I came prepared for a day of celebration, and nothing's going to slow me down. Not even caffeine."

Beatrice couldn't help but just give Shells a worried smile, her friend was a force of nature, and couldn’t be stopped most of the time. "Alright, just remember you can take a break anytime you need one. The party is going to be a full day of fun."

Shells raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms dramatically. "I am the party. The party never takes a break!"

“That is very worri-” but Shells leaves before Beatrice could continue, “-some…anyway.” she shakes her head, walking to the living room where the rest of the gifts are. The ones on the couches are Nicole’s and…she was running out of room. She chewed her lower lip, tilting her head this way and that trying to figure out where she’d fit in the whole chaos of toys that Shells gave her.

She finds a little nook close to the arm, leaning forward and pushing the gift into it, groaning a bit before lifting herself back up again. “Okay! That’s fine.”she looks at the coffee table where Rooster’s gifts are, they are smaller ones and they don’t take that much space. “Jesus, it’s so weird how minimalist we become as adults.”

She then makes a mental note of what she should do next, furrowing her brows then snapping her fingers, ‘Lemonade.” she hears music playing outside followed by the kids laughing, everything was going well. “Lemonade,lemonade.” 

As she steps into the kitchen, she blinks when she sees Michael there, checking the fridge, “Mike?” her brother looks up with a beer bottle on his mouth, “What are you doing? I’m not going to put the cake outside yet, the grill is still going,” she frowns, then swats his hand from the door before he could keep it open, “It’s an ice cream cake, don’t keep it open for so long.”

Michael winced at Beatrice and set the beer bottle aside. "Hey! Just grabbing a cold one. It's a hot day out there, and you know I can't resist a cold beer during a grill session." He rubs his hand, “You have an iron slap, you know that?”

Beatrice crossed her arms and gave Michael an exasperated look. "Just don't leave the fridge open for too long. We don't want all the ice cream melting."

Michael chuckled, still rubbing his hand, his knuckles popping a bit because of the movement. "Alright, alright. I'll be careful. By the way, Hannah apologizes for not being here.” he shrugs, “She’s got a convention and her little boy is at her…ex husband now,so.”

“Oh.” Beatrice nodded as she rummaged through the kitchen cabinets, searching for the glass jar. "It's okay. Is she alright?"

“She’s great, you know. She’s…really funny and…once I looked past the part that she used to bully you it’s been better.”

“Mike,” she smiles, grabbing five lemons and the bottle of honey, “I already forgave her, ages ago. You two are dating, it’s all good.” she opens a drawer and puts a knife on top of the counter so she’s ready to prepare the lemonade, “Just remind me to put her slice of cake inside a styrofoam box so it doesn’t melt when you take it home.”

Michael gave Beatrice a grateful smile, leaning back against the counter. "I'll make sure her cake is safe for the journey home." He glanced around the kitchen, his eyes wandering over the assortment of decorations and gifts. "This place looks fantastic, by the way. You really outdid yourself."

Beatrice chuckled as she began to prepare the lemonade. She halved the lemons and squeezed the juice into a pitcher. "Well, we wanted to make this day special for Rooster and Nicole. It's their birthday party, after all." She added honey to the lemon juice and stirred it, creating a sweet and tangy base for the lemonade. "We even got a pinata for the kids."

“You did?”

“Yes, you know Rooster will show Nicole how to punt that thing open.” she chuckles softly, licking her fingers clean of any honey, “By the way, did you check if dad is eating? You know he has to snack on something, especially after his surgery.”

“Bea, he’s fine, hell he’s having beer.” he shrugs, “You know he can have at least one, he’s enjoying himself out there. Plus mom is with him.”

“I'm just worried because of his surgery, you know. But if Mom's taking care of him, I trust that he's in good hands."

Michael's face softened, and he reached out to place a reassuring hand on Beatrice's shoulder. "Bea, you're always looking out for everyone, just like Dad. But don't worry, we're all here to celebrate today, and it's a joyful occasion." he waves his fingers, “Wooo,joy, you know?”

Beatricesmiled at him. "You're right. Today is a day of celebration, and I want it to be perfect for Rooster and Nicole. Speaking of which, do you know if Leo and Guillermo are enjoying the party?"

Michael took a moment to consider his two brothers. "Leo is probably having a blast with the kids. You know he loves playing with them. And as for Guillermo…" He chuckled. "I'm sure he's busy being the charming, mysterious guy he always is."

Beatrice blinked at him, “What?”

“Okay, let me rephrase that: Leo is going to sigh in relief because Bibi and Éwoyn are busy with Nicole and Guillermo will just stand like a menacing statue.” he smiles,  “And you know our sisters will be the ones to handle everything, then everything will be a-okay.”

Beatrice laughed, “Knowing them,I wouldn’t be surprised, honestly.” she smiles, then sighs quietly, “I just want today to be perfect…Roos is leaving on Monday, this weekend has to be special,Mike.”

"I get it, sis. Don't worry. Everything is going great, and I can already tell that it's a fantastic day."

Beatrice's eyes sparkled as she continued to prepare the lemonade. "Thank you, Mike. Now, go back outside." she waves her hand at him, “I have stuff to finish here.”

Michael gave Beatrice a playful salute. "Will do, Captain Bea. If you need anything, just holler." With a wink, he made his way back to the party outside, leaving Beatrice to her tasks in the kitchen.

As Beatrice continued to prepare the lemonade and make sure everything was in order for the birthday celebration, her thoughts turned to her husband. He was at the heart of the celebration today,alongside Nicole of course, but…he was leaving.

Beatrice knew she had to be strong for Rooster, to offer him love and support as he prepared for his departure. He needed that, it’d be his last one before his promotion which was great! She inhales softly, mixing the lemonade inside the jar and muttering that ‘everything was going exactly to plan’

He had no idea Nicole was spending the night at her parents, nor that the dogs were joining her.

She smiles,a bit shakily, but proud of herself, “...it’ll be great.”

[bramptonfloriston01]

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[pgoeltz]

Happy Birthday Tim Scully!!!

Robert "Tim" Scully born August 27, 1944

In heyday of LSD, secret Windsor lab produced millions of Orange Sunshine pills

Inside the Windsor Historical Society museum there are collections of fine art, archaeological artifacts, tools and household gadgets, thousands of items on shelves, in hutches and behind glass, some dating back nearly four centuries.

Two recently added items at the Hembree House - discretely placed posters in the two bathrooms - provide a hint, however, to a time in Windsor's past that is neither well known locally nor widely publicized.

In the late 1960s, a small group of hippie zealots worked feverishly in an old Windsor farmhouse to produce an especially pure form of LSD, on a mission to turn on the world.

Little was known about the clandestine lab because it was never busted. Authorities only found out about it several years after it was dismantled.

That hidden chapter of history had its start in late 1968 when the lab was set up in Windsor. Within a few months it produced roughly 3 pounds of LSD, or enough to make 4.5 million hits of “Orange Sunshine,” a nickname for the orange-colored, barrel-shaped pill that produced an especially powerful psychedelic trip.

It would become one of the iconic drugs of the late 1960s, proclaimed the finest acid in the land by Timothy Leary, the former Harvard instructor who famously advised people to “turn on, tune in, drop out.”

It was the year after the “Summer of Love” when thousands of flower children flocked to San Francisco to get high and groove in The Haight, espousing peace, love and Utopian ways. Some would come north to Sonoma County for back-to-the land communal living.

Among those who discovered Sonoma County was Tim Scully, a wonky East Bay kid and a physics major who'd dropped out of UC Berkeley. He and his associates chose Windsor to make LSD, which they saw as God's gift to humanity because of the ecstatic, consciousness-raising experience they had with the drug.

They chose a secluded Windsor farmhouse screened by trees, on 2 acres off Wilson Lane, now Mitchell Lane, to the west of Baldocchi Way. It was demolished more than 30 years ago to make way for Vintage Green subdivision homes.

“They invented Orange Sunshine, right here in Windsor,” said Windsor Historical Society President Steve Lehmann. “To me it's history. I'm surprised we don't have people doing some kind of pilgrimage here.”

“Sunshine Makers” come to Windsor

When Scully took LSD for the first time in April 1965 he felt at one with God and all living things.

Later that year he began hanging out with the San Francisco-based Grateful Dead, helping as sound engineer for the rock band along with Owsley “Bear” Stanley, already dubbed “The King of LSD” for the purity of his product.

The late Stanley, then 30, took the 21-year-old Scully as his apprentice beginning in mid-1966 at a lab in the basement of a rented house in Point Richmond. Stanley, his girlfriend and Scully cranked out 300,000 doses of “White Lightning” LSD. With the approaching 50th anniversary of the Summer of Love, the mayor of Richmond is trying to pinpoint the location and put up a commemorative plaque.

But in October 1966, LSD became illegal in California, and Stanley and Scully moved to Denver to set up a new lab.

The following year, Scully was introduced to Nick Sand, another underground chemist, and they collaborated in San Francisco to produce STP, a new psychedelic which was not yet illegal. Sand, another LSD proselytizer, had been introduced to LSD at Millbrook, an upstate New York farm and experimental community frequented by Leary.

By late 1967, Stanley was busted in connection with a tableting LSD lab in Orinda and Scully moved the Denver lab to another house.

But that was discovered in mid-1968 by authorities, when a water pump broke and police were called to the house while Scully was in Europe looking for precursor chemicals to make LSD.

Sand agreed to finance a new lab if Scully would teach him the Owsley Stanley manufacturing process.

Scully did on the condition that any LSD made be distributed through the Brotherhood of Eternal Love, rather than the Hells Angels. The former was described by some as a hippie mafia, a group of California surfers who evolved into a worldwide drug distribution network. The latter were notorious for gratuitous violence.

By late December, Sand through an intermediary, purchased the farmhouse in Windsor where he and Scully set up the large-scale LSD lab.

The real estate agent was told the buyer was a physics professor who wanted to set up a photography darkroom in the old farmhouse. The money came from proceeds of sales of psychedelics from Sand's STP lab.

Scully and his partner were in a hurry to make as much LSD as they could, because they believed the raw material would become unavailable. The drug is manufactured from lysergic acid, which is produced by the ergot fungus that grows on rye and other grains but can also be synthesized in a lab. The LSD made in Windsor came from one pound of lysergic acid that was made in Italy, but purchased in London.

Like an early version of “Breaking Bad,” a utility room of the Windsor house harbored a lab equipped with flasks, funnels and glass tubes, along with materials ranging from solvents to dry ice, nitrogen gas and - depending on what stage of the chemical process - ultraviolet or yellow bug lights.

There were vacuum pumps running to provide a steady puttering background sound. “The lab was next door to the kitchen where the glassware was scrupulously washed and cleaned,” Scully said.

“We would work until we dropped, sleep for a few hours and get up and at it again,” Sand recalled of the Windsor lab production in the 2015 documentary film “The Sunshine Makers.”

Turning on the world

Scully and Sand wanted people to have the same insight and intense experience of oneness and empathy they had while tripping. Scully “couldn't imagine how hatred, cruelty and destruction could continue to exist in the world, if everyone were to share this experience.”

“We agreed we couldn't just turn on the United States,” he said. “We had to turn on the whole world. Otherwise it would be like unilateral disarmament.”

Helped by the Brotherhood of Eternal Love, Orange Sunshine spread around the country, to Europe, India and even to American troops in Vietnam, and become part of the vernacular of the day.

While the crystalline LSD was made in Windsor, it was apportioned into tablets mostly in a house in Novato, using a triturate machine that stamped out several million doses.

Scully figured they needed to produce 440 pounds - about 720 million doses of LSD - roughly enough to provide a single dose for everyone in the world willing to try it.

But the law caught up with both men.

A recently minted pilot, Scully was arrested at the Napa Airport in May 1969 on charges stemming from the previous lab in Denver.

Sand, he said, immediately shut down the Windsor lab and remodeled and sanitized the room where it had been.

“Sand and Scully were apparently running this lab in Windsor and they did a good job of keeping it from us. We didn't find the lab,” retired narcotics officer Patrick Clark said in the 2015 documentary “The Sunshine Makers.”

But federal grand jury indictments and the testimony of Billy Hitchcock, the wealthy owner of Millbrook and a friend of theirs who had visited the Windsor lab, helped convict Scully, Sand and others.

In 1974, Scully was sentenced to 20 years in prison for LSD manufacturing and distribution, and Sand got 15 years. Both went to McNeil Island Federal Penitentiary in Washington state and were even cellmates.

Scully was released on an appeal bond partway through his prison term, and had his sentence cut in half, enabling him to be paroled after 3 ½ years.

He had earned his Ph.D. in psychology in prison and in 1979, was named Washington State Jaycees Outstanding Young Man of the Year. He was nominated based on his development of a computer device that enabled a person he knew with severe cerebral palsy to communicate using her knee movements that produced words on a TV screen.

While Scully said he knew by 1970 that he never wanted anything to do with manufacturing drugs, Sand was unrepentant.

While out on appeal, he bolted and spent the next 20 years evading authorities and living under various aliases. He spent time in India at Guru Rajneesh's ashram. When finally arrested in Canada in 1996, Sand had more than $500,000 in cash and gold and approximately 430,000 doses of LSD, according to newspaper accounts.

Sand went back to prison before being released in 2000. He died April 24 at his home in Lagunitas from apparent heart problems.

Busy in the woods

Scully, 72, now lives in Mendocino County in the backwoods community of Albion on a ridge near the Pacific Ocean. He said he long ago gave up any criminal activity.

Before his conviction and prison time, he founded his own electronics company and still repairs old instruments and computers in his one-bedroom house, cluttered with thousands of books, file cabinets, computer monitors and buckets of firewood for his wood stove.

His longtime partner, Alice Einhorn, lives on the 4-acre property, in a nearby house.

During a recent interview at his home, the gray-bearded Scully, wearing a slight smile, Panama hat, corduroy jeans and a blue hoodie sweatshirt, answered questions with the meticulous detail that hints at his slight Asperger's syndrome, a compulsive condition manifesting itself in inflexible routines, or pursuit of specific, narrow areas of interest.

In Scully's case, it was the way he ate the same type of spaghetti and butter dinner every night for decades, until health problems forced him to change.

For the past 20 years he's been gathering the history of underground LSD manufacturing and has a large database linking chronologies, court records and PDFs of people, labs and locations. He says it will be useful for historians and university libraries. He is also working on a memoir.

After LSD, Scully became interested in making brain wave biofeedback instruments. In a two-page spread in 1970, Life magazine referenced his company, Aquarius Electronics, in an articled entitled “turning on with Alpha waves.”

When it was apparent his drug record would prevent him from teaching, he started working as a consultant to a software computer corporation, joining a techie world where LSD use is not necessarily seen as an automatic disqualifier. Late Apple CEO Steve Jobs, for example, admitted using it.

Scully was hired as a full-time software developer for Marin-based Autodesk Inc. before retiring a dozen years ago and now relies on income from some long-term tenants on his property.

Looking back, Scully has a more balanced view than he once did of both the good and the bad that LSD unleashed.

For some it offered an intensely spiritual experience and especially influenced music and art. But it also induces paranoia, and can trigger, or worsen underlying psychiatric disorders. At its height of popularity in the late 1960s and early 1970s, thousands of freaked-out kids on “bad trips” were picked up annually by police.

“The majority of the people who took LSD had pretty good experiences,” Scully said. “Certainly a few had serious trouble and quite a few ended up in emergency rooms, because they were frightened. Most were fine the next day, but some had long-term issues.”

Although LSD carried a message of peace and love for him and many others, Scully came to realize over the years that it was “more of an amplifier than a message carrier.” Looking back, he says it was a mistake to make it widely available, “to scatter it to the four winds, so young people who were too young to have fully formed personalities were getting it.

“I have some regret,” he said. “We didn't succeed in saving the world, obviously. Look at who's in the White House now.”

But there is that quirky historic link to Windsor, a town that went from a dusty farm crossroads dubbed “Poor Man's Flat” to a family-friendly bedroom community.

The History Society's Lehmann first found about the LSD connection reading a passing reference on page 266 of an obscure book entitled “Hippie.”

He said the museum has to tread a fine line to avoid sounding like it's promoting a drug, especially considering that fourth-graders visit the museum on school trips.

Lehmann finds the characters involved with the Windsor lab fascinating, “but not everyone smiles when you talk about LSD.”

Still, he noted, the museum doesn't shy away from talking about the area's illegal booze production during Prohibition.

“We're joking about putting up a plaque at the park, across the street from where the farmhouse was,” he said. “I'm wondering if Windsor is ready for such a plaque.”

Editor's note: The article has been updated with the correct name of Owsley “Bear” Stanley and to reflect that Scully studied physics at UC Berkeley but did not obtain a degree there. The location of the LSD lab inside the Windsor home as well as the tableting process in Novato has also been clarified.

#PsychedelicSynchronicity

[fransflowers1]

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The Coquitlam in Bloom program is a public-education initiative that encourages citizens to take pride in their city's green spaces. Among other things, the program promotes tidying up and weed removal, and encourages improving street appeal. Throughout the year, the program hosts a variety of events including a Bad Seed community weed pull and a Tree Spree, a tree planting event.

The City of Coquitlam is also collecting public feedback on a new neighbourhood park in Burke Mountain in 2021. This public engagement is a part of the new Community Engagement Framework, a new set of tools designed to guide community engagement. This framework will help the City develop a clear vision of how to engage with citizens and guide decisions.

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The City is also hosting a community tree-chipping event. In addition to this, the city is encouraging residents to participate in Fire Prevention Week, which runs from April 29 to May 1 to remind residents about cooking safety.

The Minnekhada Regional Park wildfire is also a reminder of the importance of proactive firefighting measures. In addition, the City of Coquitlam is inviting residents to help shape the future of the Robinson Memorial Park Cemetery.

[tartt9]

Jamie laughs once again at the tap to his forehead. "What about a 14? Right here?" He offers instead, tapping at his own right bicep. He doesn't mind getting tattoos for the people he loves - it's why he's kept his tattoo with Keeley even after they broke up. It's why he's been highly considering actually getting tattoos on his left arm - moons and suns, for his mum. And he's already made an appointment to get the Richmond greyhound on his chest. A tattoo for Dani would just make sense.

He lets Dani put the flower behind his ear, grinning widely. "Do I look pretty?" he asks, fishing for compliments, but Jamie Tartt has never been one for shame before. He shuts up after that, rare for him, but he wants to let Dani talk. "Oh..." he whispers, finally finding out the reason Dani had chosen 14. It makes sense. Of course it makes sense. If Jamie hadn't decided to stick with his Academy number upon his call up to City proper, picking his mother's birthday would've been an obvious choice. And if he wasn't so set on making a statement about Sam being one of the most brilliant, national-team-deserving players he's ever met, perhaps he'd have chosen her birthday when he played for England, too. [ But he likes 24. 24's sticking, even after Sam gets his inevitable call up. ] Jamie knows he's playing more like a 10 than a 9, these days, with Ted and Beard and Roy's take on total football, but he likes the 9 on him - Dani's right, it's his number. So, if the new gaffer [ whoever it may be, after Ted leaves, because Ted is leaving, and Jamie needs to wrap his head around that ] asks if Jamie wants to switch to 10 next season, he's going to say a firm thank you, but no thank you. 9 is forever. "Thanks for telling me that, Dani... I'm sure he'd be real proud of you. Especially when you play for Mexico. But maybe for us, too. Definitely for us, too."

Squeezing Dani's hand, Jamie's nose crinkles up slightly with a shake of his head. "Don't think I'd look fit with hair as long as yours and Trent's - I think you lot've got that covered for the whole club. Also Bumber, but his hair ain't as long as yours. By next season, it probably will be, though. So. Trent'll be gone, and he'll take his place, yeah? Two people with hair that flowing is the perfect number for us." Jamie speaks as if he's done maths about what percentage of the team should have what haircut - he hopes to Christ that no one decides they need a Lasso mustache next season.

"Alright, kid, if your hair starts to fall out, my opinion'a your face ain't gonna change. It's a good face. Hair or none."

“that will not be enough, mi amor. if you are beating mexico somehow, you will need to tattoo my name on your skin.” dani taps jamie's forehead once, to signify where he'd like the tattoo to go.

the apology is as sweet as it is unnecessary. dani plucks a flower from the bouquet he's yet to set down, placing it carefully behind one of jamie's ears. “you do not need to apologise, jamie tartt. i chose fourteen. it is the date my father was born, the fourteenth.” it was the kind of thing he thought about as a kid, picking a number that his father could easily recognise when looking down at him from the skies. dani had stuck with it ever since then. will probably stick with it until the day he won't need to wear a uniform at all anymore. “nine is a good number, but it is your number.” it had been difficult, at first, seeing the knee injury as anything but a setback. even now when it twinges during long matches or aches when it's cold. but with time it's been easier to see things from a different perspective, be thankful for the things that's been given to him as a result of it instead. jamie's helped a lot on that end without even realising.

all this touching... dani laughs once jamie's hand is free of his hair, latching onto it and threading his fingers through so he can hold onto his hand instead. “yes, it's pretty,” dani grins, tugging gently at one of the strands with his free hand, “but it's not long or... fluffy like mine or trent's. maybe if you grow out your hair a little longer, we will let you in the club.” trent seems the type to be tightlipped about his hair care secrets, though, so it might not be much of a club after all.

“i will hold you to that, jamie. when i am old and my hair starts to fall out, you are not allowed to take those words back.”

[jayflrt]

burn for you

❝ if it were me courting you, all i would need is five minutes with you in a drawing room. ❞

PAIRING ▸ sim jaeyun x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut (minors dni), some fluff, regency (bridgerton) au, best friends to lovers

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, reader is a catch !! and jake is a rake (i thought i was so funny for that bye), bridgerton references, mutual pining, pure self-indulgence for my self-indulgent queen, sexual tension, corruption kink !!!! (your fav), oral (f. receiving), fingering, public sex, unprotected sex (bc i looked up what they used for birth control in the regency era and it was not sexy...... but pls wrap before u tap)

SUMMARY ▸ regency london’s competitive marriage market is no match for you, who brings suitors to their knees with a simple bat of your eyelashes. however, the issue is that you only care for your best friend, sim jaeyun, and your competition is a princess.

WORD COUNT ▸ 4015 words

PLAYLIST ▸ wildest dreams by duomo • vienna blood, op. 354 by johann strauss ii, eugene ormandy • young and beautiful - dh orchestral version by lana del rey

TAG LIST ▸ @msxflower​ @fiantomartell​ @baekhyunstruly​ @mykalon​ @heelariously​ @hobistigma​ @simplyxlea​ @wntrsgf​ @person-standing​ @ja4hyvn​ @dnyamight​ @candidupped​ @shmooooo​

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello !! this fic is a present for @heetendo​ happy birthday fia ♡ ik ur a whore for jake and the regency era so i put them together for u in this little oneshot !! btw this was difficult to write bc i couldn’t consult my historical au expert :/

IT PISSED YOU OFF—THE WAY JAEYUN WAS BEING FUSSED OVER BY YOUR OWN MOTHER.

“A princess!” she gushed, hands pressed to her chest as if she was trying to calm her heartbeat. “Why, you would become a prince, then! Whatever was the reason for the princess deciding to marry down?”

You were sick of hearing the news over and over again. The Duke of Richmond, Sim Jaeyun, was being pursued by a princess—something that was absolutely bizarre and had the town buzzing with gossip. You were sure your best friend enjoyed being the talk of the town, however, and he indulged in how heads turned with both admiration and jealousy whenever he walked past.

You, on the other hand, were finding it hard to push down the jealousy you felt. All was fair in love and war, and especially during the season of courtship, but you found yourself outmatched once the princess made her appearance. Although, that didn’t mean that you were lacking this season; in fact, you had suitors lined up down the block.

Your mother was overjoyed by the amount of attention you had gotten, and she would spend her mornings answering calls and receiving flowers and gifts from the men who were trying to court you. You should’ve been happy; your future was secured with this. Even with the affections from the Duke of Bedford, Lee Heeseung, and the compliments from the Earl of Berkshire, Park Sunghoon, you still found yourself unsatisfied.

You didn’t want to get married if it wasn’t with Jaeyun.

Despite the both of you being from different social strata, you and Jaeyun had been best friends for most of your life. For you, your fondness for him had morphed into something deeper—something you read about once in a book.

They called it love. A drive so powerful and uncontrollable that you couldn’t even take hold of its reins. It wasn’t a choice you could make, because if it was, you never would’ve chosen someone you couldn’t have.

“I’m not sure,” Jaeyun answered your mother with a lighthearted laugh, adjusting the lapels of his coat as he checked himself out in your full-length mirror. “She’s quite lovely, though, isn’t she?” His eyes met yours for a brief moment before clarifying, “The princess, of course.”

You scoffed. “Mother, it’s obvious that the princess is only lusting after him because he’s a rake,” you said haughtily, turning your eyes away from your friend. “Also, isn’t it unbecoming for Jaeyun to be in my drawing room when a suitor could walk in at any moment?”

“I’m not a rake!” Jaeyun argued, though you caught the amused tug of his lips just in time.

“Y/N,” your mother chided, coming to your friend’s defense far too quickly, “you shouldn’t be calling Duke Sim such disparaging words.” She turned on her heel to walk out of the drawing room, sending you one last sharp look over her shoulder. “Please be courteous at the very least when he’s to become a prince.”

You let out a reserved sigh, resting your head on the arm of your loveseat. You felt so high-strung lately, and while part of it had to do with the stress of looking exquisite at the ball, another part was because you were dreading to see Jaeyun with the princess tonight. No matter whose arm you were holding onto, you longed for your best friend.

“Y/N,” Jaeyun called, that authoritative voice of his taking over. He tugged his cuffs over his wrists and took a seat right next to you. “What’s bothering you?”

You supposed you could get over Jaeyun eventually, but moments like these made it hard. He was so receptive of your emotions—so doting on your actions—that it made it hard for you to distance yourself from him. However, for the sake of your friendship, you would eventually have to let go so that you wouldn’t ruin his future with the princess.

“Nothing,” you lied smoothly. “I just need to look exquisite for the ball.” You stood up without sparing him a glance, walking over to your full-length mirror so that you could tighten the strings on the back of your emerald dress. “And you are a rake, by the way. No man in their right mind would sit around in a lady’s dressing room like this, especially when they have a princess trying to win their affections.”

“Consider me mad, then,” Jaeyun replied with a chuckle, walking over to you. You stilled when his hands brushed against yours, taking the strings from your fingers so he could tighten the strings for you. Your best friend sucked in a shallow breath. “And about the ball—you look beautiful.”

“You always say so,” you replied, “but I’d much prefer to hear that from someone actually courting me.” You fought down the urge to roll your eyes. “You don’t even dance with me at the balls.”

“You know I’ve always found you absolutely irresistible,” he muttered.

“Jaeyun—”

“Your suitors have been vying for your affections for months.” Vain as ever, the duke let out a scoff. “If it were me courting you, all I would need is five minutes with you in a drawing room.”

Your cheeks felt hot when you realized the implication of his words. The sexual undertones left you hyperaware of Jaeyun’s hands at your waist, pulling at your strings the same way he was tugging at your heart. You wondered if he could feel the tension that was making your head feel foggy, but Jaeyun just wore that sickeningly cocky smile on his face.

“Then what’s stopping you, Your Grace?” you whispered.

Your Grace. You had always called him by his name—Jaeyun. Never the formality.

The drawing room was completely silent, and you couldn’t even focus on whether you were breathing or not. Now, you were sure that he had felt the same tension you were feeling. Jaeyun’s hands were still for a moment before tying the back of your dress securely.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look into the mirror, to look at what expression was clouding over his face. Instead, your shyness was making you twiddle your fingers and find an interest in the color of the marble flooring.

A lightest gasp escaped your lips when you felt Jaeyun’s large hand slide across your waist, to your stomach, and then lower. Before you could find out what he’d do next, though, your mother knocked at the door and Jaeyun pulled away too quickly. Faster than it had happened.

“Y/N! Are you ready yet?” your mother called.

Trying to swallow down your strangled voice in exchange for a bolder one, you cried, “Yes, mother! I-I’ll be there in a second!”

You weren’t sure what you expected, but your best friend cleared his throat as you turned to face him. Without meeting your eyes, as if he was ashamed, Jaeyun bowed courteously. You were distraught by his sudden etiquette, feeling as if he was forcing some distance between you.

“I apologize,” he murmured, and when straightened, he headed for the door. “I’ll see you at the ball, Y/N.”

You just stared at the space where he once stood, hardly flinching when the door shut behind you. The ball. That sick feeling of jealousy twisted in your gut again; you had no idea how you would be able to withstand seeing Jaeyun and the princess tonight.

The queen’s ball was on a much grander scale compared to the other events you had been to. As you expected, the ballroom was the pinnacle of extravagance, extending its facilities into the royal gardens. You were caught up eyeing the pieces of artwork on the walls when your mother nudged your side, gesturing to the center of the room.

There you saw Jaeyun with the princess.

It was funny how seeing them together chipped at your heart, but you still felt butterflies whenever you saw that smile on your best friend’s face.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” your mother gushed. “You keep your chin up, though, my dear. Your beauty is unmatched tonight.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded. You did look rather divine tonight, especially with your family’s diamonds glittering on your neck for everyone to see. From where you were standing on the staircase, you could see several of your suitors with a competitive fire in their eyes, determined to be the first to dance with you.

However, all that attention dissipated when a chorus of gasps rose from the crowd. Your gaze flitted back to Jaeyun, who had rejected a dance from Your Highness herself. Although the princess took it gracefully, moving onto the next suitor who had eyes for her, Jaeyun’s unexpected refusal would be the talk of the town for months.

With a courteous bow, Jaeyun excused himself from the floor, retreating to the royal gardens. You wondered what had come upon him to act out in such a defamatory way.

You weren’t sure if there were people talking to you with your focus zeroed in on Jaeyun, but you glanced at your mother and said, “I’ll be right back, mother. I’m going to check on something.”

That something was your best friend, but you couldn’t tell anyone that you were sneaking into the gardens to see the duke. If anyone caught word of you both meeting privately, they would twist the affair into something scandalous and damage your family name.

The crowd had gone back to courting and dancing while you were sneaking away from your suitors and everyone else. You knew that things would turn sour if you were caught, but that didn’t stop you from looking for Jaeyun. The cool bite of the wind prickled goosebumps along your arms, but you walked through the gardens, trying to see if Jaeyun was hiding amongst the hedges.

“Jaeyun?” you called when you heard rustling along the path. “Your Grace?”

His sudden appearance from behind one of the arches got a yelp out of you, and you pressed a hand over your chest to ease your racing heart. While you were coming down from your shock, however, Jaeyun merely chuckled, amused.

“Since when did you start using ‘Your Grace’ for me, Y/N? I thought we had dropped such formalities,” he replied. Jaeyun let his gaze rack over your body, and you immediately felt self-conscious. “What are you doing out here? It’s dangerous for a lady to be caught like this with a suitor.”

“I came to look for you,” you explained. “Unbecoming as it is, I had to make sure you were okay.”

Jaeyun’s face turned stony. The piercing look in his eyes bore into you, but you couldn’t turn away, not even when he asked in the softest, most agonizing voice, “Why?”

Your voice was stilted. “Jaeyun?”

“I told the princess I couldn’t marry her,” Jaeyun started firmly, steely eyes never leaving yours. “I couldn’t spend the rest of my life with someone I don’t long to be with.”

“Then who do you long to be with?” you asked in a small voice, as if you were almost scared of the answer.

You took a step back when Jaeyun stepped forward, but then you stopped backing away and allowed him to come closer. His hands barely grazed your forearms, but the lingering warmth left you tingling all over. You looked up at the duke and aching desperation was all over his face.

“I long for you, Y/N,” he answered with fierceness and yearning behind his words. “I burn for you.”

Desire bloomed somewhere deep within you, but you forced yourself to tamp it down. Not here. Not now. Yet, with the way Jaeyun was looking at you, eyes glazing over with something darker, something more passionate, you feared you would succumb to him.  

His voice was cast low when he quickly added, “I wish not to make a public spectacle of this nor distract you from your suitors, so please pardon my words if they make you uncomfortable.”

“Are you stupid?” you asked, incredulous. Jaeyun looked at you, eyes wide with shock, and you continued on in a breathless voice, “Are you a blithering idiot, Sim Jaeyun? You can’t just—just say that and expect me to run back to my suitors.” You grabbed his coat by the lapels, drawing him closer so that the space between you two was rapidly diminishing. “You said that you'd just need five minutes in a drawing room alone to court me, so show me.”

“Y/N,” Jaeyun stuttered, trying to process your words. He let out a sharp exhale when you grabbed hold of him. “This is completely indecent, and you’re too… too pure.”

You frowned. “Pure?”

“You’re untouched—untainted,” Jaeyun explained, and you shivered when his hand brushed your waist. “You don’t know what the touch of a man can do to you.”

“I—I know of some things… such arousal and intimacy—of course, I’ve read and heard of them,” you answered, breath hitching when Jaeyun ran his hand down to your hip. “It’s just that I’ve never partaken in such… illicit activities.”

“Your dress is lovely,” Jaeyun started, and you felt absolutely lost with the sudden topic change, but he continued, “so turn around for me, my love. I don’t want to ruin it.”

“H-huh?” you asked, but nevertheless, you turned around.

You were immediately met with Jaeyun’s hands grabbing your hips, pulling your back flush against his body. Carefully, he slipped off his silk gloves and tucked them into the pocket of his waistcoat while you admired how long and pretty his fingers were. He gathered the fabric of your dress, sliding his hand under your skirt so that he could run his hand up your bare thigh.

Words were no longer something you could string together as Jaeyun slipped his hand into your underwear. All you could do was lean back against him and whimper as his fingers rubbed your clit in precise, deliberate circles. Pinpricks of pleasure burst across your skin as Jaeyun fingered that perfect spot.

“You’re soaked, my lady,” he almost growled, attacking your neck with love bites and kisses.

“Yes,” you croaked out, voice trembling with excitement. “God—Jaeyun, it feels so good.”

The pleasure was almost blinding. You still had a wisp of fear pitted deep in your gut, knowing that anyone could walk in on you two at any time. However, as Jaeyun’s motions became faster and more intense, the knot in your lower stomach was starting to build. You gasped softly when you felt the strong urgency for it to unravel.

“J-Jaeyun,” you stuttered, eyes half-lidded and heavy with lust. “Oh, something is happening—”

“Let it happen, my love,” he cut you off, sensing exactly what you were feeling. “I promise it will feel divine.”

The feeling surged forward, relentless as Jaeyun pushed you closer to the edge. It kept building, rising higher and higher in your throat. You were so overcome with pleasure, but it was the fear of being so exposed that was holding you back from letting go.

Jaeyun used his free hand to tilt your chin to look up at him, whispering, “I told you all I needed was five minutes with you alone.”

There.

You reached your breaking point then and there, hips stuttering as you felt waves of pleasure crash over you. Your arousal spilled all over Jaeyun’s fingers, but before you could cry out, he sealed his lips over yours and muffled your sweet moans.

The feeling subsided once Jaeyun pulled away to look at you, but you still felt the aftershocks of your orgasm like jolts. The duke spent a long, lingering moment taking in the way you looked, and he realized he wanted more. He wanted to how much more he could do if just his fingering brought upon that delectable, fucked-out expression on your face.

You didn’t need any verbal prompting when Jaeyun switched positions, getting in front of you and pushing you back against the stone arch. You were lost as Jaeyun knelt down in front of you, lifting up your skirt and tugging your underwear down. It all became so clear when he dragged his tongue along your folds, though.

You halted your whimpers by clamping a hand over your mouth. Jaeyun knew the consequences of being caught, but a twisted side of him wanted the castle to hear the sweet music that only he could get out of you. Each string he tugged of yours roused the most harmonious moans from your pretty lips.

You cried out when you felt his lips over your already-sore clit, sucking harshly on the ball of nerves. Your next bout of pleasure was coming fast due to his overstimulation, and your head was spinning when he snaked his tongue in your cunt.

His fingers replaced where his lips once were, rubbing your clit again as his tongue slid past your clenching walls. The feeling inside you was foreign, but your arousal was unmistakable. You felt yourself squirming as you were reaching your high once again.

You keened, back arching against the cool stone as Jaeyun brought you closer to the feeling from before. This time, you anticipated the tug, but when Jaeyun slipped his tongue out of you and stopped his motions, the promise of an orgasm slipped away.

You gawked at your best friend, but he just smirked.

“I want to take you, Y/N,” the duke explained in a husky voice, raising to his feet. “I want to show you how much I care for you.”

You had never felt this way. Your carnal needs had never been so strong, so urgent, and it horrified you that you wanted nothing more than for Jaeyun to take your virginity. It was outright indecent to do so in the Queen’s gardens, but you, too, burned for the duke.

“Take all of me,” you begged, shuddering when his hands came to caress your body. “Please, Your Grace.”

“My dear, you do not know the extent of my hunger for you,” he warned.

You took his hand and placed it over your breast, right where your heart was. “Do you understand now? Jaeyun, I am all yours.”

Jaeyun swooped in to kiss you again, this time with more intensity and lust overtaking his senses. With careful fingers, he tugged the strings from your corset and undid them just enough to reveal the cream chemise underneath. From there, he lowered his head to press hot, open-mouthed kisses across your chest.

The duke undid the buckle of his pants, tugging it down as he positioned himself between your legs. The skirt of your gown hid the indecency of your affair. Heat rose to your cheeks when you felt the hard length of his cock against your bare cunt.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked you, thumb stroking your cheek in a comforting manner.

You nodded and placed your hand over his. “Yes,” you whispered, “I need you.”

You supposed there was never hope for you to keep your moans in as Jaeyun slid into you. You could hardly hear his own groans as your walls hugged his cock, only focused on the way he felt inside of you. The stretch was uncomfortable at first, but when you adjusted to his size, the feeling morphed into something incredible.

The duke started with slow, shallow thrusts—something purely experimental to test the waters with you. All coherent thoughts vacated your mind, and you were left drowning in a molten sea as Jaeyun quickened his pace. Broken moans fell from your lips, but Jaeyun didn’t bother sealing your mouth with his. He loved the way you sang for him, encouraging more with gentle pecks to your neck.

You both were sweaty and spent, but neither of you could break your gaze as you brought each other closer and closer. The cool chill of the evening was the only thing keeping you two grounded.

“God, Jaeyun!” you cried, hips bucking as he pounded into you mercilessly, inciting a lewd fuck from the duke’s mouth.

Jaeyun’s eyes, clouded over with lust, cleared for a moment and caught you by surprise. Despite his relentless thrusts, there was so much care and sentiment in his eyes.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You sobbed out as your orgasm crept up on you by surprise, overtaking your senses and making the world blur into nothing but Jaeyun. He continued his thrusts until he, too, was cumming, and aided you by working you all the way through your orgasm. The weight of his confession settled as you came down from your high, and it was a comfortable reassurance that whatever you felt for him was real.

It was silent as Jaeyun tied your corset again and fixed his pants. You helped him slip his gloves back on. Like this was your own private dance, he bowed courteously before slipping away before anyone could see you two alone in the gardens.

You heard the toll of a bell from the castle, but all that rang in your head was that Sim Jaeyun loved you.

Something plagued you days after the ball.

It was eating at you, consuming your every thought as you spoke listlessly to your suitors and entertained their affections. Your mother didn’t ask what happened when you went to find Jaeyun, but made up the excuse that you were feeling ill when you were bombarded with questions from several men.

All you could think about, though, was that you never said those three words back to Jaeyun.

You didn’t realize how wounded you felt over it until you were laying in bed, thinking how you might have possibly ruined your chance with the duke because he thought his affections weren’t returned. You moped around for days, wondering if you had ruined things between you and Jaeyun, if he thought you had taken his words for granted.

You didn’t grasp the impact of Jaeyun’s words when he said he burned for you, but now, you were starting to understand it for yourself. It wasn’t like you had seen him every day before, but not seeing him for days had you longing for him.

You hadn’t seen him since the ball, actually, until he was knocking at the door of your drawing room, a bouquet of flowers in hand.

“Ah, Your Grace,” your mother greeted cordially. The look in her eyes showed that she was concerned about what happened between him and the princess. “Are you here to see Y/N?”

“I’m here to court her, madam,” Jaeyun clarified, and you heard several gasps in the room, noticeably from your mother and the maids. “If you don’t mind.”

“Oh… oh, yes—of course,” your mother simpered, urging the maids to leave you two alone in the drawing room. She sent you a coy smile as she left; meanwhile, you were trying to calm your racing heartbeat.

Jaeyun set the flowers on your table, walking closer to you. Memories of the previous night flooded your head, and you felt hot just thinking about Jaeyun close to you again. However, the look in his eyes showed utmost sincerity.

“Do you love me, Y/N?” the duke asked.

“I do not know what love is,” you answered truthfully, but for someone so unsure, you felt like everything had clicked in the moment, “yet, if what I feel for you right now is love, then I must love you deeply, Jaeyun.”

A heartstopping smile broke across his face, and your heart swelled with admiration. Your best friend came even closer, hands coming up to hold your arms.

“Then let me court you properly,” he insisted, “and dance with you at every ball.”

And he danced with you at the next ball. And the one after that. Each one until he puts a ring on your finger.

[wonderbreadbucky]

Homemade Christmas

Brought to you by A Very C and E Holiday

Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Description: Jamie's love language is gift giving, and you love that part of him. But, this year, you wanted to take a different approach and made it clear to him that this year, all gifts must be homemade.

@cevans-is-classic

Word Count: 2,287

“But babe!”

“I meant what I said Jamie!”

“Bu-“

“End of discussion!”

“You’re jus’ cruel.”

“Oh you poor, poor baby.” You laugh, kissing his pouting lips.

You had sat Jamie down for a talk that night. Christmas was approaching quickly with the cold front, and you had to lay some ground rules. Gifts.

You had told him in holidays passed not to spend much on you, that his presence was enough for you. You didn’t mind spending Valentine’s Day in with some take out, and a few horrible romcoms, but he bought you a pair of Louboutin heels and a box of Venus Et Fleur flowers that’s price almost made you faint on the spot. For your birthday? Thousands of pounds worth of Chanel and Yves Saint Laurent products. You loved him deeply, and appreciated everything he gave you, but for Christmas you had to put your foot down lest he buy you a car next.

“I jus’ wanna spoil you, babe.” He leans into you, kissing your neck lightly.

“You already do every other day of the year,” you joke, turning to face him on the couch. You pulled your legs up, criss crossing them before grabbing his hands and pulling them into your lap. “I don’t want you spending any more money on me for Christmas. The rule is you have to make the gift. Simple as that.”

He looks into your eyes, the fairy lights in them. Growing up, he watched his dad treat his mum like shit, forgetting her birthday almost every year, giving her a certificate for the pub on Christmas and then being the one to use it. He watched her cry, and he swore he would never do that to the woman he loves.

He lost himself for a while, the fame got to his head. He got cocky. But after he came back to Richmond, things changed, he changed. He found you, all soft smiles and kindness at the coffee shop near his new flat.

You were flustered, jogging to the counter and begging to the barista by name. She had given you the cup, wishing you luck on your first day of work, and when you turned around you slammed into him. You came out of the incident clean, not a single drop on you, but Jamie wasn’t as lucky. You apologized profusely, offering to buy him a new cup and pay for his dry cleaning as you pat his front with napkins. You had finally looked up at him, and he smiled at you. Two years later, here you are.

“You know I’m shit at crafts.” He pressed his forehead against yours, lips pulled into a frown.

“As long as you make it, I’ll love it. I’ll do the same, okay? I’ll make you a gift, and it’ll be fun!” You scrunch your nose, and peck his lips before pulling away.

“Fine! Fine, but we’re doing Valentine’s this year my way.” He relents, pulling you into him as you click on the TV.

---

The next day, he walks into the weight room where his teammates linger. His brow is furrowed as he walks to the bar, prepping for a set. They notice almost immediately how distracted he is.

“Oi, what’s wrong bruv?” Isaac speaks up, and the team focuses on the two.

“Lads, Y/N told me I have to make her gift this year. I have no clue what I’m goin’ to do.” He slumps onto the bench, rubbing his eyes. “I spent most of last night trying to figure out wha’ I’m goin’ to do, and I’ve got zero ideas.”

“What if you knitted her a scarf?” Bumbercatch speaks out. The team nods in agreement, and Jamie contemplates it.

“I don’t know how to knit, mate.”

“I’ll show you! Here!” He jogs into the locker room before coming back with needles and yarn. “Let’s get started!”

Knitting was not for Jamie. Bumbercatch nearly killed him out of frustration. Any rows he tried were knotted and falling apart at the threads. He wasted more yarn than should have been possible, offering to buy his teammate a new ball before sulking away to the café where he ran into Beard.

“What’s up with you?” The coach asks.

“Y/N and I have an agreement where we’re making each other’s Christmas gifts this year, and I have no clue what to do, Coach.” He rubs his eyes.

“I’m pretty handy, want to make her something out of wood?”

Jamie quickly agreed, and promised to meet him the next day. As expected, it went poorly. He wasn’t exactly the most skilled when it came to woodworking, and the best he could do was crookedly nail some pieces together into the shape of the letter of your first name. Beard tried to console him, saying that it looked great, and that you would love it, but Jamie wasn’t convinced. He went home that night with the wood piece and hastily shoved it under his side of the bed. Strategically hiding it in a storage box, he thought longer. You liked jewelry, maybe he could make you something?

---

The next day, he was sat on the floor in front of his locker using the bench as a table. He strung beads carefully onto the elastic bracelet, oblivious to his teammates surrounding him.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Sam leaned down to look at the mess of beads and string.

“Making Y/N’s Christmas gift, what does it look like?” His brows are furrowed in concentration.

“It looks like you are making a bracelet for a toddler.” Jan Maas is blunt in his response. Jamie slumps, banging his head off of the bench repeatedly.

“Hey hey! What’s all the hubbub?” Ted joins his team, they motion down for him to see what Jamie was doing and he smile.

“Beard was tellin’ me about your little issue.” Jamie only groaned in response. The team dispersed after this, comforting pats left on the distressed man’s shoulders.

“Y’know, I’ve got a little idea for ya, Jamie. Meet me after training okay?” Ted doesn’t give him a chance to answer before walking away and giving them the warning that warm ups are soon. Jamie quickly ties off the bracelet before shoving it deep into his bag. He’s got to figure this out soon, you deserve the best and quite frankly he’s coming up with nothing.

Training finishes quickly, and he changes back into his clothes before joining Ted. They walk in silence for the most part, making their way through the town. Ted stops in front of a shop, and grins.

“I found out about this place a few weeks after I moved her, you see. Everyone needs a little artistic release! In you go!”

Jamie is filled with warmth when he walks in, the smell of bonfire flowing through the store. The walls are lined with mugs, plates, bowls, and vases. It’s empty, aside from the woman at the front of the store. She looks up at the sound of the bell, and smiles.

“Hello Ted! Here to pick up your last piece? Just came out of the fire this morning!”

“You know me too well, Chelsea!” She walks to the back before Jamie turns to him. “What is this place?”

“It’s a ceramics studio! You get to make and glaze your own pieces, and I think this might be the perfect thing for you.”

“Let’s hope you’re right, mate.” And with that they got to work.

Chelsea was very helpful, showing him how to use the wheel and giving him pointers when she could. It took most of the afternoon, and into the evening for him to finish your gifts. By the end of it he had splatters of wet clay on his jeans, but he was satisfied. Chelsea had promised to fire them as soon as possible, and agreed to stay open later for him to glaze them the following week. He made his way home that night with a smile on his face.

When he entered his flat, he could hear Christmas music playing softly from the kitchen, the smell of baked goods flooded the home and he quickly kicked off his shoes as he followed the sound of your humming.

You were hunched over the counter, scooping dough out onto a baking sheet as you hummed along to Baby It’s Cold Outside. He came up behind you quietly before wrapping his arms around your middle, kissing your cheek softly. You giggled and greeted him. The bowl in front of you filled with chocolate chip dough as he swayed the two of you.

“Hold on, hold on.” You giggled out, pushing him back slightly as you put the dough in the oven and setting the timer. You finally turned around to him, and kissed him deeply. There was flour all over your front, but he didn’t mind as he pulled you impossibly closer.

“You’re home late,” You mumbled against his lips.

“You’ll see why soon.” He pulled back to sway with you to the song that came on next.

“The Christmas crafts isn’t too painful for you then?” You tease.

“Ah ah! Can’t talk about it or I’ll spill the beans and Christmas will be ruined. You don’t want to be the Grinch here, babe.”

You laugh, head tossed back as your shoulders shook. He smiled at this, taking in how relaxed you looked. He wanted to make you laugh every minute of every day if that meant that you looked at him like this forever.

“Okay, okay, no talking about gifts. How was training?”

---

Christmas came around quickly, and Jamie’s hands sweat as he placed the large box in front of you. You handed him his, and forced him to open his first.

Jamie was in shock. In the box, were three candles. Each of them had coordinates and dates on the labels, in your own handwriting. He pulled them out smelling each one. The first smelled like coffee, light and airy. The second smelled softly of vanilla and musk. Finally, the third smelled of flowers, lilacs specifically, and freshly cut grass. He looked up at you, confused.

“I thought we said we’d make our gifts.” He joked, looking down at the dates. He recognized them instantly.

“A woman at the office makes candles on the side, she let me make these.” You look down bashfully before looking back up. “The first one is from the day we met, the second is from when we first said ‘I love you’, and the third is when you asked me to move in with you. All with the dates and the coordinates. The scents are related to the places each thing happened.”

Jamie is silent for a while. You start to panic.

“Do you not like them? I’m sorry, I thought it was a cute idea. I can get you something else-“

During your rambling, you had missed Jamie carefully setting the box of candles aside. He cuts you off by bringing you in for a long, passionate kiss. You sigh into his mouth, gripping his face softly as your lips mesh together. He finally pulls away after a moment, breathing heavily.

“I love it. Don’t you dare take this away from me.” You smile at him, kissing him again. He pulls back again, sitting back down.

“I don’t know how I’m going to beat this,” He shakes his head, motioning for you to open yours next. You smile at him before looking down. You wiggle in excitement in your seat before opening the box. You slowly pull back the tissue paper, and stop when you see the gift.

Your eyes begin to water as you see what’s in the box. A mug lies on top of the tissue paper, speckled glaze wrapping around the base, the handle colored in your favorite shade. It was crooked in some spots, the rim dipping lightly from where Jamie accidentally bumped it. You twisted it around, looking at the cup, before looking up at Jamie. He looks nervous as he scratches at his neck.

“There’s more in there…”

On the next layer of tissue paper was a spoon, glazed to match the mug. Below that was a woodworked piece that resembled the first letter of your name. You let out a watery laugh as you pulled it out, and noticed something underneath it. There was a bracelet at the bottom of the box, yours and Jamie’s favorite colors beaded in an alternating pattern, finally meeting with three white beads that read your initial + his own. You looked up at him.

“I know it’s not much, and they’re all a little wonky, but I really tried-“ You were the one to cut him off now, launching yourself into his arms in a tight hug.

“Jamie, I love it. I love it all. Thank you, thank you so much.” You pull back and kiss him deeply.

“I love you, Y/N.” He mumbles out, moving you to straddle him. You pulled back and pressed your forehead to his. “I love you too, Jaime Tartt.” You smile, pecking him again.

You stay on the couch for the majority of the morning, enjoying hot chocolate in your new Tartt original mug while watching movies. You look at the time and quickly jump up.

“See, it wasn’t that bad, making me my gift. This was a Christmas to remember. Now, c’mon, love. We have the Higgins party soon, gotta get ready.”

“I’ll be there in a moment, babe.” You nod and go up to your shared room, unaware as Jamie pulls a small, red velvet box out of his pocket, and smiles. This is definitely a Christmas you two would remember.

[hcncywhiskcy]

d y l l a  n e v e s ; fae - soul reading

[ camila mendes, twenty-four, female ]. who just got accepted? oh, it’s just the new student [ dylla neves ]. [ she ] is originally from [ richmond, virginia ] and they’re apparently a [ fae ]. did you hear their focus is [ soul reading ] ? that’s probably how they got in. they remind me of [ red lipstick on a wine glass, black currant and vanilla perfume, deep violet flowers, a slanted gaze from across the table ]

full name; dylla neves age; twenty-four birthday; december twenty-second zodiac; capricorn sexual orientation; bisexual birthplace; richmond, virginia eye color; brown hair color; dark brown height; 5′5 tattoos; thin black rings above first joint on all fingers, crying greek bust on upper thigh + ; disciplined, pragmatic, reliable, confident - ; judgmental, cynical, prodigal hobbies; trying new wines, online shopping, throwing small but lavish parties, learning new skills favorite music; sir sly, bishop briggs, bulow, pvris, winona oak favorite book; a deadly education - naomi novik  favorite drink; averaen pinot noir favorite food; passion fruit mousse 

[papermoonloveslucy]

SAM HARRIS

January 11, 1877

Sam Harris was born on January 11, 1877 in Sydney, Australia. From 1928 to 1966 he appeared in roughly 770 films and television episodes, nearly all in uncredited background appearances. If Bess Flowers is the Queen of the Extras, then Harris is the King!  

His film career started in 1928 with The Spirit of Gallipoli, a silent film made in his native Australia.  

Harris appeared with Lucille Ball in 14 films from 1934 to 1956:

Kid Millions (1934)

Old Man Rhythm (1935)

Having Wonderful Time (1938)

Annabel Takes a Tour (1938)

Dance Girl Dance (1940)

The Big Street (1942)

Thousands Cheer (1943)

Abbott and Costello in Hollywood (1945)

The Dark Corner (1946)

Lured (1947)

Miss Grant Takes Richmond (1949)

Fancy Pants (1950)

Ellis in Freedomland (1952)

Forever Darling (1956)

His first television appearance was on an episode of “Racket Squad” on February 28, 1952. 

As a background performer, he was often seen at parties and society functions, wearing a suit or tuxedo. He sometimes sat with his back to the camera or was in the distant background. 

On “I Love Lucy” Harris was in the audience for “Over the Teacups” in “Ethel’s Birthday” (ILL S4;E8). 

He played a subway passenger in “Lucy and the Loving Cup” (ILL S6;E12). 

He was quickly glimpsed in a Paris café in “Lucy Meets Charles Boyer” (ILL S5;E19) first aired on March 5, 1956. 

He was in the airport when “The Ricardos Go to Japan” (LDCH S3;E2) first aired on November 27, 1959.

Sam Harris appeared on six episodes of “The Lucy Show,” starting with “Lucy is Kangaroo for a Day” (TLS S1;7) on November 12, 1962. Harris was one of the diners at the sophisticated Cavalier Restaurant. 

“Lucy Enters a Baking Contest” (TLS S2;E28) on April 27, 1964 as a member of the Danfield Bank Board of Directors (above right).

Harris was a courtroom spectator when “Lucy is Her Own Lawyer” (TLS S2;E23) on March 9, 1964.  

Harris is on the board of directors (chaired by Gale Gordon) of Consolidated Pictures in the Lucille Ball / Bob Hope TV special “Mr. & Mrs.” aired on April 19, 1964 on CBS. 

Harris was at the country club formal dance when Lucy rolls in during “Lucy and the Good Skate” (TLS S3;E1) on September 21, 1964.

He was at the Embassy Ball (above left) in “My Fair Lucy” (TLS S3;E20) on February 8, 1965.

His final appearance with Lucille Ball is as a casino patron when “Lucy Goes To Vegas” (TLS S3;E17) on January 18, 1965. 

For Desilu or at Desilu Studios he appeared on “Our Miss Brooks” (1956), “The Adventures of Jim Bowie” (1957), “The Real McCoys” (1959), “The Ann Sothern Show” (1959), “The Westinghouse-Desilu Playhouse” (1960), “The Untouchables” (1960-61), “The Andy Griffith Show” (1961), and “The Dick Van Dyke Show” (1962-63). 

His final screen appearance was in the Disney film The Ugly Dachshund, released on February 16, 1966.  The cast included “Lucy” veterans Charles Lane, Bobby Jellison, Parley Baer, Dorothy Konrad, and Leoda Richards.  

Sam Harris died on October 22, 1969 at age 92. 

[redbayly]

I was tagged by @duchessoforange.tumblr.com 

 1. Flowers or chocolates?

Chocolates. I have a pretty big sweet tooth.

2. Between day and night I prefer:

Day in practice, because I can see what’s going on. Night in poetic terms, because it’s more fun to think of artistically.

3. My favourite drink:

Lemonade mixed with pomegranate juice.

4. Between sunrise and sunset I prefer:

Sunset. It’s easier for me to appreciate because I’m not still half-asleep.

5. Between dogs and cats, I prefer:

Cats. I currently have two which I adopted from the local shelter.

6. The vegetable I hate the most:

Lettuce. It always makes me feel queasy when I eat it. Cauliflower is a close second.

7. My favourite sound:

Cat’s purr.

8. The first thing I notice about people:

Height. I notice right away if I’m looking down or looking up when I speak to someone.

9. What would you prefer horror or fantasy?

Fantasy. Horror can be fun, but there’s nothing that can top being carried off to a mystical world where you actually have a chance to fight the danger lurking in the shadows, rather than being destroyed by it.

10. What city or town you’d like to live in?

Where I am now is fine. A little town in rural Virginia where you don’t have to worry about lunatics trying to shoot your neighbor’s three-year-old kid (I am very, VERY happy to be away from Richmond).

11. What I value most in life:

Family and education.

12. If I could learn any skill, it’d be:

Horse-riding. I’ve been on guided horseback rides, but I am far from being an equestrian. My mother was a talented rider when she was younger and I know she’s always wished I would be one, too, but I just never had the opportunity.

13. Between beach and the mountains, I prefer:

Mountains. Beaches are too hot and crowded most of the time; I like to visit them now and again, but I much prefer the quiet beauty of the mountains.

14. My hidden talent:

I’m trained in RAD (Rape Aggression Defense). It’s a self-defense system designed specifically for women to defend themselves from sexual assault. I am particularly talented at escaping being pinned-down (it’s all in the weight you put behind your hips).

15. Rainy day or sunny day?

Rainy day. I’ve never been much of a sunshine person. I will literally take a morning walk in the rain, but find an excuse to stay inside when it’s sunny.

16. How I relax after a hard day:

Working on fanfic, watching murder mysteries/Chinese dramas/cartoons/some other stuff, listening to music, working on my novel series.

17. How many piercings I have:

One in each ear.

18. I like makeup:

Only on formal occasions or for Halloween.

19. My height:

About 6ft.

20. My age:

26 years (as of 2020)

21. My birthday:

January 22nd.

22. Video games or social media:

Does Age of Empires count as a video game? Or the Sims games?

23. I’ve visited outside of my country:

I went on a family trip to Italy after graduating high school and then a trip to England after college.

24. Do you follow some celebrities’ fashion:

No. And I don’t understand why other people do. Your sense of fashion should be your own.

25. What do you think about your fashion sense:

It’s okay, I guess. Mostly jeans or pajama pants and a t-shirt. I do know how to dress professionally for interviews and such, and I always try to look nice for church on Sunday (I’ve even started wearing a sunhat).

26. You can do your make up properly:

I mean…sort of? I’m not a beautician or anything, but I know how not to make myself look weird.

27. You go or used to go to school with makeup on:

No. I went to an all-girl high school, so no one even cared about shaved legs let alone makeup. In college, I just didn’t see the point since, by then, I was in the habit of just being as I was and focusing on learning and not worrying about my appearance.

28. What colour suits you best?

Green. Blue and dark purple are close runners-up.

I tag any of my followers who wants to answer this. I don’t feel confident enough to tag anyone specifically.

[casual-eumetazoa]

i’m a perpetually broke grad student so instead of buying gifts for Christmas and birthdays i write fanfics or short stories for friends. Christmas 2019 i asked my best friend to pick up to three genres for his gift story and he told me political drama + classical literature + self-help. i added steampunk sci-fi to that and took that as a challenge...

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

A Yule Anthem

(or how to end the monarchy and overthrow the government in twelve* simple steps)

a memoir by Erasmus Waynard Smith, a once royal circuit keeper

 *

Season’s greetings to you, dearest reader. Although I have no way of verifying this, it is quite likely that you are starting this book on the dawn of a Yule, as this is the date my memoir is set to be released. If that is the case, then happy holidays! I wish you all the best. May the spirits of old Earth guard you and support you in all of your endeavors in the upcoming cycle of the Suns.

It is with an unsteady hand that I begin this story, for I have never intended for it to be heard. Indeed, the book you are projecting onto your cornea as of this very moment would not exist if it wasn’t for the efforts, diligence, and, if I may be so frank, stubbornness of a certain someone.

Thirteen months ago, you see, I was approached by Theodosia Pruce – a talented and perceptive lady from the distant, exotic shores of the planet Zanzibar. Miss Pruce was the one who convinced me to put my memories into words, for the sake of future generations. And although I do not give as much as half a bitcoin for the future generations, I was, nonetheless, swayed, by the most generous offer of a personal mansion on a resort world and a fully paid pension for the rest of my physical existence. And so, I am sitting here now, a tall glass of rapidly cooling Roomas juice by my side, and a touchscreen quill pressed tightly in between my fingers, trying to jolt my memory and produce exactly as many words as I was asked for, not a word more, not a word less.

Conveying all the truth and nothing but the truth about these events is an earnest challenge for me. I am an old man of a hundred and fifty now, dearest reader, and 2237 seems centuries away from the present. Back then, I was a young lad of hardly forty, and my mind was full of foolish desires, far-reaching ambitions, and cotton candy. I worked as a royal circuit keeper in her majesty’s planetary servers - a skillful but simple and honest occupation - and, like so many before me and around me, dreamed of preposterous things. Dreamed of success, and money, and love, and a glorious revolution…

Lean back, dearest reader, adjust your mindscreen settings, and let me bring you with me on a trip to the past and tell you how to accomplish what I have somehow accomplished.

step 1: identify your project

This story begins on a dark, uneasy, snowy evening, on the first day of Yule of 2237. The shifts down at the factories and the river banks were rolling to the end, and the work hours just came to a close for all the royal employees. I – your faithful servant – had only about arrived at my usual spot, the Drunk Mongoose pub, when a roar of thunder shook the ground and shattered the glass in the liquor cabinet.

-The forecast didn’t say no thunder snowstorm. -  Said my best friend Arabella, as she fell down into a lumpy seat beside me. – I left Boy outside. If he will get struck by lightning again, I’ll never get the money to replace his burned-out batteries.

-Chill. – I advised, and took a generous sip of my drink. – It don’t seem to be a big one.

As if to disavow my word, the thunder crashed again, with twice as much strength this time. It pulsed through the floor, crackled in the walls and shook the roof above our heads.

-I ain’t likin’ it. – I whispered.

The lights and sounds of the pub were starting to flicker.

-Same. – Arabella retorted, clutching the rackety table with utmost strength.

Side by side, we watched as every single candle and kerosene lamp in the building lingered and died, blown out at once by a rush of electromagnetic wind. A low, irritating murmur reached my ears, and I realized that the entire holographic engine must have gone caput. For the second time this lunar cycle.

-Not again! – Came the exasperated moan of Octavius, the pub owner.

I sighed, and forced myself out of my seat, intent on helping the man with the machine.

-The entire network’s down. – Arabella informed, pointing at the blank projected screen of her pocket watch. – I’m so sick of this, Ersh. They’d promised to fix this back during the wet season!

-Sick of the government? – Yelled some drunken gentlemen from the other side of the pub. – Sick of his majesty’s empty promises?

-Yeah! – Another random visitor of the establishment supported the man enthusiastically.

-Well big mood, I tell ya. – The first man snorted. – Everyone hates them, but ain’t no one gon’ do a thing about it. So get back to your work.

Now I cannot put my finger on why that simple remark had such a profound effect on me… Was it the man’s voice, so full of despair and apathy and subdued anger? Was it my own exhaustion, the quiet rage at the thought of coming back home by foot, through the howling thunder and snow, in the absence of a sky bus? All in all, something must have short-circuited in my mind, as a sat back down, looked Arabella in the eyes and said, in a voice most confident:

-You know what? Let’s overthrow the government.

 step 2: define goals and objectives

On my way home, I was drowning in feverish frenzy, drunk without wine and hopeful beyond reason. Oh, for how long I have dreamt of this! Many a morning I have spent imagining what it would be like to live on a planet fair, unburdened, free from the thralls of corrupt government and incompetent king. I knew that I wanted it, and I knew that every one of us wanted it, and, somehow, despite all common sense, I knew that I could do it.

I stumbled out of the pub and wondered on unsteady feet towards the docks. The snow swirled and raged around me, and my blurry eyes struggled to focus on my surroundings. I stopped at the slope of the northern canal and gazed into the clouded sky, feeling the snowflakes land on my eyelashes and the wind slash my face. I cannot tell you why, dearest reader, but I felt so utterly happy.

-How much for an uber these days? – I announced cheerfully as I approached the line of carriages waiting by the canal.

-Three fifty for a mile. – Echoed one of the drivers – an older lady, who was stroking the head of a white, shabby-looking horse.

-Steep. – I whistled, and swung myself into the carriage. – Hampton Hall please, down at the cross of Richmond and Westby.

She nodded at me, and pushed the minute counter switch. One word to the horse, and I could hear the sound of its metal hooves striking against the cobblestone. I half-sat, half-laid in my seat, staring at the hole-ridden ceiling of the carriage, and listening to the sounds of the dreaming city.

‘Alrighty then’, I thought, pulling out my notebook. It had hardly any charge left, so the bleak night mode would have to suffice.

“Tasks for tomorrow”, I noted down, and drew a flower on each side of the line. “Destroy the government from the inside. Make King Edmund step down from the throne. Profit”.

 step 3: define tasks

It was only at noon next day when the realization of what I just committed myself to hit me like a bolt of lightning. I was enjoying my Roomas (the good kind – they don’t grow it right anymore) with my colleagues at the servers, and suddenly it dawned on me – I was going to take this planet apart, bit by bit. So powerful that was, so profoundly terrifying, that I had to excuse myself and sit in a locked bathroom stall, wheezing, my heart pounding in my chest. A few girls and a man must have heard me, as I was asked repeatedly whether I was okay.

I was not, but I was going to be.

I went straight home after the workday was over. I forced myself to gather my thoughts, and look rationally at this situation. This task, though ambitious, no doubt, could surely be accomplished. I knew this planet, knew it through and through. I knew politics too – it was the first thing I ever studied in university, and I hated it, I’ll admit, but it was useful nonetheless. All I needed was to sit down, think it through, and draft a plan.

And that is precisely what I did.

 step 4: build your team

We met in the abandoned park by the lakes at dawn the next morning. The air was bity with cold and static electricity, and the seven of us could not help but shiver as we walked towards our gazebo. It was buried underneath a thick layer of snow, and I laughed as Arabella pretended to push the fluffy heap onto my head.

-Good morning, everyone. – I greeted, inviting them inside before myself.

-Skip to the important bit, please.  -Arabella yawned, and took her seat at the table.

-Fair enough.

I took a deep breath in and gazed upon my freshly assembled crew. Arabella, a fellow circuit keeper and the fastest hacker I have ever met. Ambrose, a talented but not extensively successful journalist. Cecilia, an up-and-coming politician herself, but currently a secretary to one of the most famous politicians on the planet. Wilhelmina, a social media manager with hundreds of contacts at her fingertips. Josiah, an artist and designer, currently one of the official dressmakers to the king. Euphemia, a policewoman in the past, now a social activist and respected public figure. Matthew, a writer and a poet, who happened to be the lover of three separate government figures, all of different genders, all filthy rich. And me, a humble sysadmin with a dash of organization skills and arrogance to spare.

-Esteemed guests, - I said, and paused to clear my throat, - you all know why we are here. Now allow me to explain to you exactly what we will do.

 step 5: create a timeline

-This is flippin’ insane, Ersh. – Wilhelmia exclaimed, glaring, and I was forced to shush at her.

-Quiet. – I reminded, and she swallowed hard, remembering that anyone in the building was at liberty to overhear us.

The upcoming revolution was now two days old. On the surface, we continued to lead normal lives, working, complaining, gossiping, and counting the minutes to the end of the shift. In truth, we were right in the middle of action. Meeting all over the city – in undiscovered pubs and inns, in unguarded computer cellars, on the rooftops of nuclear boilers, and in the dead-ends of dark alleyways. We communicated over quantum radio and made sure to burn all of our transmissions after every call. We were brave, and vigilant, and determined, above all else, to bring this to a close as soon as possible.

-But that is too fast. – Wilhelmia insisted in a hoarse whisper. – You don’t seriously believe that this will be over before the Yule ends, do you?

-Indeed, I do. – I replied, and had the displeasure of being poked in the ribs. – What’s more, it is the only way to accomplish what we set out to do.

-How so? – She questioned.

-Conspiracies are short-lived. – I elaborated, and shifted in my tight, deeply uncomfortable sit.

The server ventilation shaft was far from a pleasant place to be inside of.

-The longer it goes on, the more likely it is to fall apart. Especially as we begin to bring more people into it.

-But ten days, Ersh! – Wilhelmia repeated. – How would that ever work?

-Simply and elegantly. – I smiled. – Remember, my friend – I am brilliant under tight deadlines, especially when said deadlines are self-inflicted.

Wilhelmia chose not to argue with me – for she knew, deep down, that I was right.

 step 6: adjust your plan accordingly

I did not get a wink of sleep on the fifth night of the revolution. The visions of failure haunted me like vicious yet intangible ghosts, and I tossed and turned in bed until the second moon grazed the sky. Giving up on sleep altogether, I got up, mixed up a glass of dehydrated water, and turned on the radio. I expected to be lulled back into calm by its soft, crackling static – but instead, I had my anxieties validated.

-Thank heavens, Erasmus. – The voice of Josiah erupted from the speaker. – I’ve been trying to reach you for hours!

-What is it? – I asked, and slumped down to the floor, my head dizzy all of a sudden.

-It isn’t working. – Josiah confessed, and I could practically taste his desperation. – Not a tad. He is listening to me, but he doesn’t believe me in the slightest, I fear.

-Okay. – I said, though I was as far from okay as one could be. – It’s fine. – It was not, in fact, fine. – Roadblocks happen. Let’s talk. We’ll think of something, I am sure.

And, unlikely as it was, we did.

 step 7: be flexible

The sixth day flew by so fast; I hardly noticed the night arriving. Eleven pm, and I found myself on the top floor back row of a double-decker, moving smoothly on its set path, the electric engine buzzing and murmuring somewhere far below. Outside, the snow was replaced by a thick fog, with neither of the moons in sight. The bus was almost empty and deathly quiet. I sighed, turned to my left, and met eyes with Matthew.

-How many in total? – I inquired, my voice down, still aware of the potential danger of being overheard.

-Forty-seven. – He informed, and the hint of a smile touched his lips. – Which makes it almost a third of the entire government.

-Not enough. – I shook my head, unsatisfied.

-Not enough? – He pouted.

-Time is not in abundance. – I said, and he looked away, avoiding my gaze. – We need to accelerate. Do you agree?

He sighed, but nodded.

-Good. – I glanced sideways, and drew a spiral on the mist-covered window. – You know what to do, Matthew.

-Yeah. – He said, smirking. – Unleash them memes.

 step 8: communicate with your team

All of us gathered together again on the afternoon of the seventh day, in a tacky, brightly lit and empty tea room. The forecasts mongered another thunderstorm, and the atmosphere was heavy still, but, somehow, it did not bother me in the slightest. I smiled as the maid droid placed a tray in front of me, and the smell of cinnamon and lemon zest reached my nose.

-We’re on the right track. – I proclaimed confidently, and took my acai rice pudding bowl and a steaming hot cup of Earl Gay off the tray. – Cheers.

-Cheers. – The team echoed, and we clanked our china cups together.

We spent the hour discussing the current affairs, congratulating each other, chatting, laughing, and feeling oddly optimistic about the whole endeavor. My step was light as I was leaving the tea room. We had a few challenges ahead, sure – but, overall, everything was going according to plan.

 step 9: address any problems before they occur

Then the eighth day arrived, and, all of a sudden, nothing was going according to plan. News rushed in through the radio one by one; they piled all on top of each other, and right as I was leaving the server maintenance room to enjoy my well-deserved Roomas break. I felt drops of sweat form on my neck and roll down my spine as I scrolled through the message feed of my wristwatch. Nothing terrible has happened so far, I admitted – but it could. So shaky. So many opportunities for it all to go to hell – and in rapid succession. Three seconds later, and I was overtaken by fierce, unwavering panic.

It must have been twenty years at least of sitting in the memory cube closet, hugging myself and trying desperately to remember how one was supposed to breathe, when someone knocked on the door. The first aid droid, I realized.

-I have detected alarmingly high levels of adrenaline and cortisol. – The droid’s voice sounded even sillier than usual, obstructed by the door. – Would the gentlemen like some treatment? I can offer morphine drops or deep brain stimulation.

-No. – I yelled back through the closed door. – No, thank you.

-Very well, sir. – The droid responded. – If you will need me, I’ll be at my re-charging station.

-Yes. Fine. Now leave me, please. – I groaned, and gently bumped my forehead against the wall.

I cannot tell you why, but somehow, that brief exchanged kicked some sense back into my mind. I let go of my shoulders, took a deep breath in, and told myself – “think”. Yes, the opportunities for disaster were plenty. Yes, we were on shaky ground now, even more so than before. Nevertheless, not all was lost. In fact, nothing was lost yet, I realized. You see, dearest reader, the benefit of having anxiety is that you can foresee potential problems and overcome them before they arise.

Fifteen minutes later, I had a solution for every single issue that could occur in the last phases of the plan. I thought about it further over my Roomas (with just a few drops of morphine), then found an excuse to leave the server buildings for a brief pause. Outside, it didn’t take me long to find a kid aimlessly wandering the streets.

-Any spare change, sir? – The kid asked, big blue eyes full of sadness. – I am all out of coins to buy Fortnight mods.

-Just your luck, your little rascal. – I smiled, and ruffled the kid’s curly hair. – I’ll give you a tenner – if you can bring this, - and I handed him a memory stick, - to lady Euphemia O’Malley. You will find her somewhere in the city center, most likely close to the town hall.

-Alright, sir. – The kid said, and snatched the memory stick out of my hand even before I transferred the payment. – I sure will try.

I nodded, said my farewells, and felt completely tranquil at once. Whether it was the effect of having dealt with the problems, or the morphine kicking in, I had no clue.

 step 10: learn to say ‘no’ and accept help

I took a break on the ninth day, knowing that the revolution was beyond my grasp at that point, and all I could do was step back and watch the dominos fall into place. I ended the shift early, and went to the ice rink up at Thatchley Square. It was full of preschoolers and noisy beyond tolerance, which prompted me to push my airpods deeper into my ears. I would take the majestic, sophisticated sounds of Ed Sheeran, Gwen Stefani, and other classics over the offensive modern chaos they played in public places any day.

Half an hour of skating back and forth across the artificial crystalline surface, and my muscles were starting to betray me. I sighed and leaned against the nearest wall to rub my aching thighs and ankles. Alas, I had not been built for physical labor. I was about to leave the rink, when something – no, someone – rammed into me at subhuman speed, making me cry out in shock and stumble backwards into the snow.

-Oh lord, - the someone exclaimed, - I am so sorry!

And I mumbled something incomprehensible in response, for there, in front of me, covered in snow and helping me get up from the ground was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Tall, lean and bright-eyes, she had bubblegum pink hair and a pierced nose and a tattoo of a rose on her neck. And she was staring at me… goodness me, she was staring at me as if she knew me.

-Erasmus Smith? – She asked, frowning, and my face lost all colour.

-Shush. – I said, immediately on guard. – Come to the dressing room with me.

We sat there, talking and drinking those awful food machine concoctions out of cellulose plastic cups, and she told me everything she knew about the revolution, and how she came to know of it. It brought me concern at first, but soon enough it left my mind, for I was told that she had no intention of upsetting our plans. And what’s more, she even wanted to join in – and take it up a notch.

-Out of the question. – I responded immediately, once she had laid out her scheme for crashing the entire political system. – We are not risking the original plan on a dare.

-But… - She protested.

-No. – I shook my head. – We’re sticking to our goals.

-Oh well. – She sighed. – It was worth the shot. Say… can I help you out, at least?

I considered it for a moment, then gave her a singular nod. It made her eyes glow with excitement and pride. Such a stunning smile she had…

-I have a different proposition for you, though. – I found myself saying. – What do you think about going to the holographic theater next week? With me.

-Oh. – She looked away, and a soft shade of blush touched her cheeks. – I’d be honored.

And thus, the exchange was not all in vain.

 step 11: write tomorrow’s task today

On the dusk of the tenth day, all – now as many as fifteen – of us gathered together by the docks, next to the roaring powerplant, where the moons were shining, making the freshly fallen snow glow and sparkle. We drank warm beer, talked, and watched the dodo birds and the pterodactyls play and chase each other on the canal slopes.

-All set to run. – Arabella concluded, after we revised every minute step over and over again. – Shall we?

I paused, took in a full lung’s worth of fresh cold air, and said yes.

We followed the first sparks of the fire on social media, observed as politician after journalist after king’s man turned all against each other, throwing accusations, spilling dirt, and digging political graves for each other – and we thought it lit. I did not wish to stay there at the docks for the entire night, so I brought the meeting to a close.

-One last thing before we go. – I announced, just as the people were turning to leave. – Write down a tweet for me, people.

“All political parties on the planet have fallen apart. The entire government has resigned. King Edmund is stepping down from the throne to marry a commoner. Bitches, let’s party.” I finished, and every single one of us cheered.

 step 12: celebrate milestones and victories

And bitches did, indeed, party the next day – party day and night as the biggest scandal of the century shook the planet to its core. I do not recall where I was for most of the Yule Tide. All I know is that by midnight I ended up in the town hall, which was utterly wrecked and overflowing with people. I came to my senses sitting on the floor, wearing nothing but booty shorts and an undone tie, and smoking weed through a pipe. It was the most splendid party I had ever attended in my life.

-To the revolution! – I shouted it, and half a hundred people – most of whom I have never met in my life – joined in cheerfully.

-All hail Ersh, - Ambrose added, - for without him, this wouldn’t have happened.

-All hail Josiah, - Arabella interrupted, - for if he hadn’t sucked the king’s dick, this wouldn’t have happened either.

-Oh leave it. – Josiah dismissed. – I’ve always wanted to do that anyway.

-When are you gonna tell him? – I asked. – That you aren’t marrying him after all, I mean.

-Well. – He shrugged. – I think I might actually like… do that.

-Wouldn’t that be funny, - Euphemia said, - if Josiah became a prince.

-Anything is possible now. – Arabella pointed out.

-Yeah. – I agreed. – Anything’s possible.

And that’s when yet another crucial realization dawned upon me, and made me instantly sober.

I have accomplished my goal – no question about that. Brought down the government, destroyed the monarchy, did away with every major political party – all like I had imagined. But the more pressing question was – what are we going to do now?

 And here comes *step 13, dearest reader, which no one had the courtesy of warning me about. The step is to ask yourself: what in the name of holy fuck you are doing in the first place, and why.

I advise you to complete this step before all the subsequent ones, for it took me all but twelve days of the Yule to bring my entire planet into chaos, and more than twenty years to carry it out of it and back into order.

Which is why I always say to the young, overly ambitious people who seek my wisdom – before you fuck some shit up, you better come up with a plan of how you will unfuck it – or do not go fucking it up in the first place, my child.

 Signed, Erasmus Waynard Smith.

[sortofanobsession]

Full Masterlist

+AU fics **ABO AU fics. ^Coda fics

Ted Lasso: (Fandom specific masterlist page)

Roy/Jamie:

Dead Phones and Train Wrecks Prompt Fill Ao3

The team forgets, but Twitter doesn’t Prompt Fill Ao3

The Boot Room Thoughts of Roy Kent Ao3

A Very Bad Day for AFC Richmond Off Pitch Prompt Fill Ao3

Jamie Tartt deserves better and his coaches know it Prompt Fill Ao3

Every day is the same until it isn’t Prompt Fill Ao3

Bright lights and Futures Ao3 Request Ao3

It’s Phoebe, so yeah Prompt Fill Ao3

Tiny Morning Visitor Prompt Fill Ao3

The press will make it seem like I ended your career and then you Prompt Fill Ao3

You clearly can’t be trusted to look after yourself Prompt Fill Ao3

With a little help Prompt Fill Ao3

Fever in the Night Prompt Fill

No Show Roy-o

Tired of Fighting Prompt Fill

Roy/Keeley/Jamie:

Unsure and Unconventional, to say the least Ao3

Extra Sexy December 28th Ao3

9-1-1: (Fandom specific masterlist page)

Bathena:

Oneshot/Prompt Fills:

Of Mixed Emotions and Loving Families (Ao3)

Madney:

Oneshot/Prompt Fills:

No one should ever mess with Maddie (Ao3)

Bobby as Buck’s Pseudo-Father:

Oneshots/Fics:

The Nature of Pain (Ao3) Ch 1, Ch 2

A rescue of a different kind (Ao3) (Buddie Sequel: Play Ball)

Buddie:

Oneshot/Prompt Fills:

**I’m Begging you to be my Escape (Ao3) Story Masterlist

+Some lawyers just don’t follow the law (Ao3)

+Breath in, Wheeze out  (Ao3)

Buck’s Ducks (Ao3)

+Fear in the Shadows (Ao3)

^Eddie’s Epiphany (3x10 Coda) (Ao3)

+Saving and Losing (Ao3)

The Nature of Pain (Ao3) Ch 1, Ch 2

Music to his ears (Ao3)

+Trauma shakes the soul and marks the skin (Ao3) Soulmate AU

**Flames fueling the fight (Ao3)

A truly terrible lesson to learn (Ao3)

**Life on one’s own (Ao3) Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3

+Never going down without a fight (Ao3)

**A Bit Emotionally FUBAR (Ao3) Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3

+Uninvited Guests (Ao3)

+A Doggone Terrible Birthday (Ao3)

+Jet Lag and Second Chances (Ao3)

+Demons in the Dark (Ao3)

^Long Drive Home 911 Crossover Coda (Ao3) Ch 1, Ch 2 

^Safe Place and Safer People 4x04 Coda (Ao3) 

^Best Visitors, Worst Visitors 4x04 Coda (Ao3) Part 1, Part 2

Mother’s Day Flowers (Ao3)

+Reality Deep Down (Long overdue Eddie Begins AU) (Ao3)

Arguing with Passion (Ao3)

^Problems and Pancakes 5x13 Coda

^ You can't return unless you leave first 5x16 May Day Coda

In a Flash or Two Pre-6b Speculative Fic (Ao3), Ch 1 (Eddie POV), Ch 2 (Bobby’s POV), Ch 3 (Buck’s POV)

^Terror and Time 6x10 In a Flash Coda #1

^I’m afraid of what you’ll see, right now 6x10 In a Flash Coda #2 Prompt fill

Series:

No one should ever mess with the Buckley Siblings (Ao3 Series)

No one should ever mess with Maddie

No one should ever mess with Buck

Buck and Eddie can’t catch a break (Ao3 Series)

Now when do I start to feel again?-  Part 1, Part 2

Charles Darwin nodded and smiled a knowing smile Part 1

**New Life of Omega Buck- (Ao3 Series)

Part 1: Pain given and pain received 

Part 2: Out of the haze

Part 3: Nothing heals the soul more than family

Part 4: Nothing can hurt you more than family Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3

MCU - Moon Knight/Eternals (Crossover)

Reader Insert

+To Cry for the Moon (Marc/Steven/Khonshu x Female Eternal!Reader) Series page

The Boys:

+There Goes the Neighborhood (Ao3)  Part 1, Part 2, Part 3,  Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Star Wars (Sequel Trilogy):

FinnPoe/Stormpilot:

Oneshot/Prompt Fills:

Fluidity of Time (Ao3)

FinnPoeRey/Jedistormpilot:

Oneshot/Prompt Fills:  

Feeling the Force (Ao3)

Far from Fearless (Ao3) 

Shovel Talks Should be for the Experienced Only (Ao3)

Building a new, New Republic (Ao3)

Chaos at the Market (Ao3)

Law & Order SVU:

Oneshot/Prompt Fills

Barisi:

+No Pity & No Party (Ao3)

Barisi/Reader (Soulmates):

+A Case of Expectations ( Ao3) 

Mike Dodds/Reader (Soulmates):

 +Unbelievable (Ao3)

Our Flag Means Death:

Fics:

Death is in the details  series page

Ao3/Non-Tumblr Works:

MCU:

Darcy Ship Oneshots/Songfics:

Put the Playlist on Shuffle and let it fly

Chapter/Ship List:

Hear Me by Imagine Dragons (Darcy/Bucky)

100 Suns by 30 Seconds to Mars (Darcy & Everyone, Hint of Darcy/Bucky)

Bleeding Out by Imagine Dragons (Darcy/Steve)

Wild Ones (Feat. Sia) by Flo Rida (Darcy/Clint)

Unforgettable by Nat Kind Cole (Darcy/Steve)

Tonight by Hanson (Darcy/Bruce)

Love is Greed by Passion Pit (Darcy & Natasha)

Already Home bye Hanson (Darcy/Bucky)

Saturday Nights Alright by Elton John (Darcy & Everyone)

Shut Up and Dance by Walk the Moon (Darcy/Sam)

Facing the Inevitable Series WIP:

+Fight, Flight, or What you Deserve

+Missed Opportunities and Major Regrets 

AUs/Gifsets:

April Fools

Clintasha Baby Chronicles

X-Men FC on FF.net:

The Dreams of Heroes Complete 

A/N: This work was first ever, I finally finished it.