#that wedding went *south* SO fast

[theoneandonlysun]

Heya sun, Watcha doin'? *Sunny said with a smile* I hope your doing well!

(my boi just wants to talk 😔)

Uh... fine? I think...?

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Toto’s Daughter (part 1)

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings: smut

Most would think that it is not easy to be Toto Wolff's daughter. But that was not your case. You weren't part of the Formula 1 world. You lived abroad far from the world your dad was in. Everyone knew that you existed, of course, but you did your best to make your life as private and peaceful as possible, away from the public eye. And you did it successfully.

When you were younger you often attended races, you traveled with your dad all over the world, you were surrounded by big names, but over time, as you got older, that world stopped being of interest to you. You found your hobbies, your interests and your life, which you enjoyed every day.

When Lewis Hamilton won his first Formula 1 championship, you were only 9 years old. He was not a stranger to you, you practically grew up around him. Your dad held him in high esteem and enjoyed working with him. Over time, for your dad, Lewis Hamilton was no longer just a "driver", he became part of your family. Your family and Lewis often hung out outside of work, going on vacations, family lunches, birthdays, celebrations and things like that.

You had a good relationship with him, he would always ask you something here and there, joke with you, ask you about school, the usual things that adults ask children. That’s exactly what you were then, a child for him. To him you were Toto’s little daughter and to you he was almost like an uncle.

As the years went by, you grew up, you went to study abroad where you ended up living, and Lewis continued to work with your dad and be in a close relationship as before. Everything was the same except you were no longer part of the fast world they lived in.

The media were interested in your life, they were eager to find out what Toto's daughter was doing, where she lived, who she was dating, they wanted to know anything, but you didn't give them any material.

For Toto and Susie's 13th wedding anniversary, you decided to surprise everyone and come to the celebration that the two of them organized for close friends and family in a beautiful villa in the south of Italy.

It's an understatement to say that you stole the show when you showed up. All grown up and beautiful, you have become a real woman. All eyes were on you since even your immediate family hadn't seen you in a while.

You looked like a real lady when you showed up in a light yellow floor length dress (with a slightly deeper neckline than your family would have liked but oh well) over your tanned skin with long curled golden hair that fell over your shoulders. You really were something to see.

“Dear family, dear friends, I would like to take a moment to thank you for being here with us” Toto said moving to hold the toast as he stood next to Susie with one arm wrapped around her. You were all sitting at the long big table waiting for dinner so your dad took the opportunity to thank everyone.

“Thank you for taking the time to celebrate our 13th wedding anniversary with us here in Italy. Susie and I appreciate and love you all very much and there is no one else we would rather share these moments of happiness with than all of you. I'm especially glad that my daughter y/n is with us today, since she's not so little anymore, so I can't force her to spend more time with me and Susie anymore or ground her for not being with us more often” You blush as everyone’s gaze settle on you for a moment and laughter rings through the room.

“And finally, I want to thank the most important person in my life for making me the happiest person in the world for so many years. My rock, my biggest support in everything always and forever, my beautiful wife. I just want you to know that I look forward to every new day with you, that you are my true happiness and that I don't know what I would do without you, and I don't even want to know. I love you and I look forward to being with you for the rest of my life. Happy wedding anniversary love.” As Toto finished his toast, Susie's eyes glazed over with tears at his touching words, and so did yours.

Everyone clapped as the two kissed. You were really happy for the two of them. You loved seeing them as happy and in love as they were the first day they met and you could only wish you could find someone to love you the way your dad loves Susie.

Oh, what you would give to hear someone talk about you like this in front of everyone. To show this much love for you, to show you off so proudly.

“I’m so happy that you’re here, y/n” Susie said giving you a hug after the dinner.

“I’m happy to be here with you too. I’m having a really good time so far, I think that from now on I want to be involved in these kinds of family gatherings a little more often.”

“Honey, we always invite you, but you rarely come..”

“I know, I know and I’m sorry about that. You know that I’ve been busy with myself for the last couple of years.”

“I do know. Everyone’s been asking about you though. They can't believe the woman you've grown into. Everyone remembers you as the little girl with braces who sat on her dad's lap in the garage.” Both of you laugh as you remember those days.

“If you had walked past me, I'm not sure I would have recognized you, y/n” Susie’s eyes shift on the talking figure behind you. You turn your head to the side only to see Lewis with his hands in his pockets standing behind you and admiring you.

“Lewis..hi” You smile at him offering him a hug which he gladly accepts.

“I’ll leave you two alone to catch up, it’s been a while” Susie says before disappearing to find her husband.

“How have you been, y/n? I always ask Toto about you, but I haven’t seen you in quite some time now.”

“Yeah, I’ve been a bit busy with life, but in a good way. I dedicated my time to working on myself and my career and enjoying myself as well, traveling the world and so on. I can't complain.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that you’re doing well. It’s crazy to me how much you’ve changed. You’re not a little girl anymore that I used to ask about school, you’re..a woman now.” You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes were stuck on you. He was completely stunned by your beauty.

“Yeah, well I prefer to think that I’m more fun now than I was before no?” You wink at him making him laugh. “Anyway, what’s up with you? Heard you’re breaking up with my dad and going to Ferrari next year?”

“Yeah, well you know..It was not an easy decision to make, but the red car was one of my biggest wishes as a child, I think now is finally the time to fulfill it. If not now, when?"

"I understand although it's definitely gonna be hard to let you go." You tilt your head giving him a soft smile.

"I'm never gonna leave you guys." Lewis says. "I'll always be here, one way or another."

You spent the rest of the evening hanging out with friends and family, sharing stories from your life that they were happy to hear. Lewis spent most of his time around your dad, and you would glance at him every now and then only to catch him already secretly looking at you.

You haven't seen him live for a long time, of course, you've seen his pictures online, but you couldn't believe that he really still looks that good live despite his age.

When you were younger you didn't pay too much attention to him, you never looked at him in that way to think if he was hot or not. Especially because when you were younger he was in a long-term relationship with his girlfriend at the time, and after all, he's always been your dad's friend. But now, now that you are a little older, if you wanted to have someone by your side who is mature, who knows how to treat a woman, who is protective of you and who would take all the stars out of the sky, you know that Lewis would be the right choice for that.

What you expected even less was the knowledge that since Lewis saw you again after so many years, he hasn't stopped thinking about you for a second. He couldn't get you off his mind, and you found that out in a very unexpected way.

The next night you got dressed for another dinner and you wanted to ask Lewis to take a picture of you from the balcony of his room because his room had a better view of the sea than yours.

You stood in front of the door of his room and knocked and knocked, but he didn't open. At that moment, something did not give rest to your curiosity, so you let yourself into his room on your own.

You slowly scanned the room and saw that there were clothes on the bed prepared for tonight's dinner, and the door to the bathroom inside the room was closed. You moved a little closer to the door and leaned your head towards it and heard the water coming from the shower.

But that wasn't all you heard. The next word that came out of Lewis' mouth completely shocked you and made you gasp.

"Fuck, y/n.." You heard from the other side of the door.

The short whimpers, long-winded moans, the filthy sound coming from his mouth almost knocked you off your feet. You wanted to run away and pretend like you never heard this because you weren't supposed to hear it in the first place. But then you thought you had heard wrong and that he had said someone else's name because it couldn't possibly be true that Lewis was thinking about you this way. So you leaned your head back towards the door to try to hear something, anything again.

"Oh yes, just like that.." He groaned. "Just like that, y/n"

part 2

[angelic-iam]

Stroke Of Luck Chapter One

Warnings: Profanity, angst, adult themes and conversations, hints at infertility, infidelity, death , light violence

A/N: Please excuse any grammatical errors I tried to go through it as best I could .second bear with me if its not up to reading standard im trying to jump back into my writing bag and this will be my first story I've actually released so I might be a bit rusty lol but please enjoy

Word count: 4273

Series Master List

I sat on the front porch of my family home trying to hold it together as I watched my father put the last of jordans bags into the car .Today was the day I had been dreading the most my older brother Jordan was going away again on deployment .He had told us months ago about his decision to reenlist and I had been preparing myself for his departure hoping it would put me at ease. It didn't. My brother is one of my best friends and to see him leave was going to leave me with a void. Even through my dismay however I was proud of him even if in this moment my emotions didn't allow for me to show it.It didn't take long before the empty space beside me was filled with a familiar face. I turned to see Jordan, his face filled with sadness. Respecting the space I was in he allowed for us to sit in silence a moment before deciding to break it. “you okay?” he asked concern laced in his voice. I shook my head “not really," I replied softly, trying to avoid eye contact knowing I would cry. He sighed pulling me into his side as the tears began to prick my eyes.” I promise this time will fly by so fast you won't even realize” he said kissing my forehead .”No jo I will notice it will not be the same without you. who else will keep me sane dealing with ma and jade you're the only thing holding us together “ I croaked “ Theres always facetime if that doesn't work then we write, and if that don't work I'll send a pigeon” he joked Not being able to it in hold in a laughed spilled from my lips Jordan joining in seconds later “Jo it's time to hit the road” our fathers voiced called out .Jordan nodded his head signaling for my dad to give him a moment. Jordan stood pulling me up with him into a hug me, nuzzling my face into his chest feeling the water works starting back up. “I love you so much josie” he said wiping a stray tear that slipped free “I love you more jo” I said turning him loose. “Oh, and sis do me one last favor” he said walking down the porch steps “name it” I called out “smile no more tears”. I cracked a small smile as he turned making his way to the car climbing in leaving me in a broken mess as I watch my dad's chevy Tahoe disappear down the road.

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In the same spot I stood five years later staring down the same dirt road my brother wouldn't have the opportunity of returning to. He was gone. Jordan was sent in on a rescue mission to save a fellow marine of his platoon, ironic in the end he ended up being the one needing saving. Shit went south and my brother was shot and killed in the line of fire. I was angry feeling as if the universe had slighted me robbing me of being able to share future moments with my brother. Him cheering me on when as I walked

the stage after completing nursing school, being a bridesmaid in his and his fiancé Arielle's wedding, holidays, birthdays. Gone. The only presence of him now in this moment was his framed picture that stood in the front of our family home for the repass. Not wanting to continue allowing myself to drown further in my grief I turned walking up the steps primary focus locating one of two people Arielle or my cousin India . It didn't take long to find ari talking with one of my aunts. Arielle was short in stature compared to most with smooth golden-brown skin that seemed to glow as the warm rays peaked through the window and a fit physique that would put Tyra banks to shame. No doubt courtesy of her personal trainer profession. Her round face framed with voluptuous curls. It was amazing to see her strength. Throughout her struggle a dimpled smile still adorned her face one that caused her Chinky eyes to disappear as she laughed. Noticing me walking over she politely closed out her conversation with my aunt walking to meet me. “Where did you disappear to “she quizzed giving me a slight nudge “ I needed some fresh air the condolences and sorry for your losses were becoming overwhelming” I huffed "Trust, I get it I have to many people asking me what i'm going to do with me and our son” she stated shifting uncomfortably. My heart ached for her. I couldn't imagine how it is to become a widow, single parent, and having to break the news to kaizen.

“for whatever your move or decision is you're not alone. You got me forever and so does nugget “I Said with half smile. She giggled at the nickname I assigned kaizen at birth. We glanced over watching the mini version of Jordan running around the house with the other kids.” I almost forgot your dad wanted to see us in the kitchen” she stated switching the topic. I nodded as we made our way to the cramped kitchen pushing past multiple bodies. My dad stood looking down at my mother with admiration as they talked among themselves “Hey daddy “I greeted walking over as he pulled me into a hug “Hey baby come sit your sister should be here in a moment” he said ushering me and ari to sit. I scrunched up my face at the mention of my sister. Jade and I had an exceedingly tenuous relationship. Jade was the youngest out of the three of us and was the golden child spoiled completely rotten. In my parents' eyes she could do no wrong and treated her as such. It didn't help that my mother drove the wedge and distaste for one another deeper pitting me and my sister against each other in a warped ass competition. Who is better than the other. My mother secretly rooted for jade while my dad on the other hands liked to play devil's advocate. Jordan was the only one who called them out holding everyone ,including myself accountable. The final nail in the coffin was catching Jade and my then boyfriend of two years Darien in bed together not to mention she continues to see him. To say I was hurt and angry was an understatement and as my family (aside from Jordan) tends to do they brushed it under the rug. As if her ears were burning jade stalks in turning her nose up at the sight of me. Feeling myself become anxious and agitated I decided to jump start the conversation “everything okay you wanted to speak with us” I question. Dad sighed grabbing a stack of papers from the counter sitting down placing them in the middle of the table. “We are going to start sorting out your brother estate and assets “Now” I asked in disbelief “Yes per your mother request”. Still not understanding the urgency I pressed further “Why so soon?” I said.” I have something important to take care of so I asked mom and dad to move it up” jade answered nonchalantly “what could possibly be so important that were doing this the day of our brothers funeral “I gritted out finding myself becoming angry. Sensing this Arielle reached over taking my hand in hers giving it a light squeeze “I have a trip I'll be going on we didn't want to move the dates” jade shrugged.” A DAMN TRIP!! WERE GRIEVING AND YOU HAVE NO CONCERN OR REGARD FOR ME OR FOR ARRIELLE. MY BROTHER ISNT EVEN IN THE GROUND GOOD AND YOU’RE WORRIED ABOUT A TRIP AND IF WE CALL IT LIKE IT IS YOU’RE WONDERING WHAT YOU CAN GET YOUR HANDS ON FUCKING SELF-” 

“JOSELYNN TAYLOR, YOU MIND YOUR MOUTH IN MY HOME I DIDNT RAISE YOU TO BE DISRESPECTFUL AND WE AREN'T GOING TO START NOW “My mom interrupted slamming her hand down on the table. “Dad” I turned to him secretly pleading for him to jump to my defense but as always nothing.” Josie, I get that you’re upset I do but let's just rip the band aid off and get this over with” he said pulling his reading glasses on his face. Meanwhile jade's face held a victorious smirk, and I wanted nothing more than to put it through some dry wall “The lawyers drew up the paperwork dividing the assets based on Jordan's will. He had a one hundred fifty-thousand-dollar life insurance policy that will be divided fourways between his parents, two sisters and fiancé Arrielle. His dodge challenger he left to his sister Jade Taylor while rest the remaining vehicles will go to his fiancé Arrielle Rodriguez” From the side of my eye I could see jade smiling. “As for his properties he leaves the townhome located in California 9870 Blancas Blvd. in Anaheim to Arrielle and lastly, the ranch house located at 1600 rose ridge rd here in Dallas Texas as well as the 8 acres surrounding it” My dad paused taking a moment to catch his breath as my sister sat up in her chair ready “ will be left to his sister Joselynn Taylor” he finished laying the paper on the table. Jade scoffed snatching up the paper reading it not believing what she's heard. I sat in shock looking over at Arrielle who nodded confirming it for me.

“ Me and Jordan decided to create a backup plan in case of a worst-case scenario. Never thought id actually have to execute it. We thought it'd be best if I moved back to Cali to be closer to my parents and family for support, the house is way too much for me and kaizen by ourselves and besides it would be a painful reminder to our son “she stated fighting tears. “He thought you were the most deserving seeing as your in school and jade has support from your parents figured it would be the best for you” ari said. "But that's not fair I got plenty of cars that's nothing can't you do something” Jade complained her turn now to plead with our parents. My mother diverted her attention now to me “Josie can't you switch it's not like you need it. You’re single, no kids unlike your sister who's been in a three-year relationship with Darien and expecting “she tried to reason while sneakily throwing jabs at me. I let my eyes dance between my parents and jade reading their body language. It was true. "You -your pregnant” I stuttered as a began to internally crack “Yes it was confirmed yesterday at the doctors. Four weeks along I think Darien is more excited than me” jade beamed getting a kick at seeing me squirm at the news “you know I could refer you to our doctor he could possibly help with that sour ass womb of yours” she bragged tossing her hair over her shoulder. I could feel my throat begin to close up as tears were now flowing down my face “Jade that's messed up and out of pocket l what is that to say to someone? You just be lucky your ungrateful behind received anything your words are uncalled for” Arrielle jumped in taking to my defense “thanks Arri for taking up for me, dad I can't do this I gotta go” I stood abruptly pushing myself away from the table storming out of the house hoping into my car speeding off.

I drove with no destination until my crying turned into dry heaving processing the news. Not only did I have to take my sister snatching my relationship with Darien from under me but now I have the pleasure to watch them start a family one that should've been mine. A shitty way to rub salt in the wound. Ten minutes passed by before the sound of coco jones ICU blared through the car's speaker. Taking a quick glance at the car screen. I see my favorite cousin India name displaying. I may not have had a sister relationship with Jade, but I did find one with India. If I wasn't with Jordan I was with her. Three musketeers. I tapped answer “hey India wassup” I asked trying to mask the fact I was just crying “Honey I should be asking you that seeing the way you just ran out of here what happened”. I sighed “It's a long story “I stated “ wanna talk about it over some drinks at dukes “she offered ‘ooh please link with you at 8” I replied “see you then” she agreed

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I tossed back my second shot of tequila squeezing my eyes closed as the clear liquid burned my chest India taking the chance to laugh at my facial expressions. “Thats no ordinary liquor “ I coughed “ Yeah but your ass needs it , now do you want to tell me what happened back at uncle Melvins” she said getting straight to business “ Where to start let's see that bitch jades greedy ass talked to my mom to convince her to push up sorting out Jordans affairs disregarding the fact were hurting, the only good and surprising thing was Jordan left a house to me but of course jade with help from my mom couldn't let that slide nooo they had to degrade me and spring on me that jades pregnant by Darien, Jade finished with saying she can refer me to her doc for my quote sour womb” I rambled with air quotes causing India to spit out her drink “ I know you fucking lying” she blurted “I Wish I was “ I chuckled darkly signaling the bartender for another round “so are we dragging her now or later” she asked in all seriousness “ we can't she's pregnant” I retorted “ AND her face aint her lip would have been swole before she could leave the house” India shook her head completely dumbfounded “I'm honestly in a space of being mentally exhausted it feels like I've had the worst luck of the draw. I can't seem to maintain anything good “I said “Josie Girl, I love you but were gonna gone head and shut your self pity party down. Sure you're going through some shit right now but it's not the end of the world. Your smart as hell ,On your way to becoming a nurse, fine as hell with a fat ass” she joked giving my behind a poke causing me to laugh “besides there's nothing you've lost that can't be regained Darien left but he aint the only man left in the world. You just got to find the right one for you one that slangs the meat” she said gyrating “oh my god dee must you do that in public and why so loud” I said covering my face in embarrassment “ I don't care you need some but first you have to stop running them away” she teased. ”it's not my fault they can't handle me “I shrugged leaning against the bar. She wouldn't call it running them off more so like weeding out the bad. Joselynn was tough overall to crack. Her hard exterior was difficult to get through. She was already to some degree antisocial so to get a conversation from her was a blessing. Even then you had to be engaging enough to hold her attention both in and out of the bedroom as she got bored easily. She wasn't one to just settle for anything as the slightest misstep/red flag and you were gone. Joselynn knew part of it was due to Darien.” you need to come with a sign that says you bite” She teased tooting her lips up at me as I shoved her slightly laughing. Before I respond Tamia’s Can't Get Enough came over the bar's speaker causing hoops and yells to erupt. Instinctively me and India made our way over to where the line dance started joining in. I was grateful for the distraction India provided and the peace she managed to bring. We continued throughout the night to dance to a few more songs take a few more drinks to the head before deciding to call it a night. Stumbling into the house I kicked my shoes off at the door making my way to my bedroom struggling to find the light. I went to take a seat on my bed seeing both a letter and a manilla envelope. The envelope from my dad the letter from Jordan. My hands trembled slightly gripping the letter not wanting to pull myself back into a state of hurt. I sat the letter to the side grabbing the envelope ripping it open out tumbling out a set of keys, inside the deed to the house and a small note from my father  

Josie i'm sorry for earlier on behalf of your mother and sister inside is the deed for the house the keys as well as the address I love you always pops 

Part of me was still angry but I had a soft spot for my dad and he knew that. Officially tired I sat the paperwork on the side table stripping my clothes and turning off the light, deciding to shower in the morning. It wasn't long till sleep overtook me.

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A month had passed since the day of the funeral and I had tried to bury the emotions of Jordan being gone so much that I buried myself in other things to keep my mind occupied. Working at the hospital being a CNA provided some distraction and what my job didn’t cover in the distraction field schooling took care of the rest. In its own way they also provided me an excuse and shielding from my unrelenting mother who still made it her business to call pestering me to rethink my decision about the home. I won’t. It was one thing I had power over, and I wouldn't relinquish it so easily. For the first two weeks of his passing I went back and forth on whether or not I would actually move into the home not feeling quite right about it but after starting to feel like things were becoming stagnant decided it was best to move. I slowly drove up the light graveled path mouth dropping at the sight of the house that sat nestled at the end of the dirt road. It was a stunning two-story ranch style house with a wraparound porch. Coming into a stop I tossed the boxed moving truck into park hopping down to get a better look at the home “this is gorgeous “India stated walking up after parking her car. “I agree can't believe he left this for me” I marveled taking it all in “well believe it toots now let's gawk at it from the inside we got work to do” she declared holding her hand out for the truck keys. Dropping them into her hands she went to grab the first box as I went to open the door. The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior. The multicolored stone walls paired well with the mahogany hardwood floors and high ceilings. The set up with the furniture accented well no doubt due to Arrielle's careful selection when they were here.” Girl this is neeiceeee it don't smell like roaches in here or nothing "India shouted carrying in one of the boxes “You don't have the sense you were born with” I chuckled at her reference to girls trip “you ready to get this over with”. She groaned knowing just like me how long of a process unpacking was going to be. Without another moment of hesitation we jumped in getting started.

After what felt like years later I folded the last of my clothes, placing them away as India flopped on my bed groaning. “ I hate your don't need a man for shit mentality that was horrible” she grumbled “ It wasn't that bad” I giggled plopping down beside her “ Like hell it wasn't my ass is going to be hurting for days” she countered “I'll make it up to you I promise” I teased pinching her cheek “ yes you will tonight I want dinner fried chicken, mac the works” she responded smacking my hand away sitting up on her elbows “ Your joking” I asked not knowing if she was serious or not “nope I'm serious”. “Dee I don't feel like it” I whined “tough shit” she said not wavering. She was just as stubborn as I was.” Fine but you're getting the groceries” I huffed out relenting. “Cool with me I'm gonna go home shower then i'll swing back”. She jumped up grabbing her keys walking out. Taking this as an opportunity I grabbed a t-shirt and underwear from my drawer walking into the large master bathroom. I turned on the shower allowing the warm water to run relaxing my tense muscles strained by the lifting. After I finished I got dressed walking back in the room looking for my phone realizing I must have left it downstairs. Making my way to the stairs I could see the light from the living room reflecting on the wall. I figured India may have left it on that was until it flicked off. I froze on the top stair as my mind began to race, trying to rationalize what I saw. Maybe it was India. No, she wouldn't be back that quick. Maybe it was a blown fuse but a scared part of me didn't want to chance it. Tip toeing back upstairs I looked for something to use as a weapon eyes landing on the hammer I had used earlier to hang photos. Clutching it tight I slowly crepted downstairs the only noise was the sound of my heart thumping in my ears. Rounding the corner I froze seeing a figure standing a few feet away in the doorway the moonlight highlighted their 5’8 figure while providing shade from their face. Fear momentarily fueling me I got ready to charge forward when someone grabbed hold of my wrist twisting it causing my grip on the hammer to loosen eventually dropping it. Not having time to process what was happening I was grabbed and flipped on my back pinned down by the larger party. Still I struggled against the intruder managing to momentarily free my arm. I drew my arm back throwing blows anywhere they would land this didn't do anything but piss the person of as I was lifted slightly from the floor and slammed back down causing me to yelp in pain. Panic set in flooding through my nervous system. “TERRY WAIT SHIT I THINK THAT'S A WOMAN” a voice cut through from the other side. The lights flicked on seconds later giving me the chance now to get a look at the intruders. The one by the door stubbled faced held panic as he too assessed our current situation. Remembering the heavy weight at my midsection my eyes shot to the one who had me pinned. My breath hitched in my throat.

His honey kissed face glared back down at me while his plump lips twisted up in a snarl. His chiseled arms flexed as he kept me held in place but the most defining thing however. His eyes. A beautiful pool of blue gray encircling hints of hazel and green something similar to a painter who accidentally had his watercolor paints blending together into a perfect mess. “If I let you go do you promise to not do anything stupid” his baritone voice questioned snapping me from my awkward eye raping. I nodded in response. He stood pulling me effortlessly up with him. “Who are you and what are you doing in my house?” I asked finding my voice coming back as I rubbed my now sore shoulder. “I'm Mike that's terry" the one from the doorway answered “sorry if we scared you” he said sheepishly. “Scared is an understatement and that still doesn't answer why you're here or why I shouldn't be calling the cops for breaking and entering and assault” I fussed through gritted teeth. Still not saying much since turning me loose the one name terry walked past me grabbing something from his bag on the floor walking back over to me handing me a piece of paper. Jordans handwriting.

Hey T if you're receiving this letter it's because I'm dead. It's funny thinking on it seeing as the squad always joked calling me mister invincible but yet here I am gone. I thank you for always being there for me since meeting you you've always been like a brother to me rather than a fellow marine in arms. Given our prior conversation about your situation, I wanted to do one thing for you. I offer you T a place of solitude if you ever need to get away the address is listed below keys are hidden in the porch light fixture. Continue to be great .. I love ya man  

                                                          Jordan signing out for the last time 

I looked up at him handing the letter back to him. "You knew my brother” I said feeling the wave of his death rushing back again. I watched as his face widened in realization of who I was. “Yes we served together. I apologize for roughing you up I didn't realize you were Jordans sister. I thought you might have been someone that had broken in”. I nodded understanding. “it's fine I thought the same” I said calming down. “Look we don't want to crowd your space and sorry for the intrusion. I didn't think anyone would be here. Your brother as you can see failed to mention you moving in we will leave” Terry said signaling for mike to grab their bags. I sighed looking towards the ceiling having an internal battle with myself and before I could stop myself the words flew from my mouth “You can stay”

[monzabee]

you'll change your name or change your mind - cl16

masterlist

Summary: The one where you find your way back home, even if the journey takes longer than you think. 

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!bianchi!reader 

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: mentions of jules and his accident, ANGST, talks about college acceptances in the US but it’s not accurate because i’ve never applied for US schools, mentions of alcohol and underage drinking/clubbing (only in the US though), mentions of a fake id, mentions of cheating, fighting, charles being stupid and not realising it, talks about processing grief, GRIEF, survivor’s guilt, talks of therapy, friends to lovers y’all. 

Request: “The Charles fanfic was so good!! Can you write more angsty but happy needing Charles? I think it’s be cute for a man who loves Monaco so much to got to wherever his girlfriend lives Ike London or nyc often and deal with that. Maybe she hates monaco lol” + “if your requests are still open, max or charles + “you have to promise you won’t fall in love with me.” thanks!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i decided to give into the whole angst thing and i can honestly say that i’m having a great time. i wanted to include Jules somehow in this one because i’ve been seeing some edits on tiktok and let me tell you proofreading was a bitch because i kept crying. also, my spotify kept bringing up lorde and hannah montana songs, so there you go. this was definitely a hard one to write and i know it’s messy, but all feedback is appreciated. thank you, anon, for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Monaco is full of memories. It’s filled with memories of your childhood, your parents picking up you and your siblings from school in Nice, and getting the train to Monaco for your brother to compete in karting races. It’s filled with laughter, and ice cream, and friends. It’s also filled with fears, loss and uncertainty, and you suppose that’s why you didn’t ever want to go back. But you find your back there every time, even if it is only for a couple of days at a time. Although it reminds you of the bad times, it’s hard to erase the good ones completely. 

Charles is just one of the people Jules brought into your life. He was right there since your birth – apparently, the Leclercs were visiting your family in Nice when your mother suddenly went into labour. You will always be thankful to Pascale and Hervé for stopping Jules from choosing your middle name to be Michael Schumacher. Neither Charles, nor you will forget the type of shenanigans you got up to as little kids, there is only a year difference between the two of you after all. There’s that one time you stole Charles’ kart and tried to go down the road, in which he caught you but instead of ratting you out to Lorenzo and Jules, who were supposed to be looking after you by the way, he helped you get it down the stairs and passed you his helmet as he explained how to go about it. Neither of your brothers were impressed by your ability to go fast or Charles’ sudden interest in maybe becoming a race engineer if the whole driver thing doesn’t work out. There was also the time when the two of you, along with Arthur, snuck out from a family friend’s wedding to only get lost in a city in the South of France; Charles got so stressed that he forgot how to speak French and proceeded to ask how to get back to the venue in Italian for the rest of the night. Needless to say, the two of you are there for each other no matter what; you stayed together through heartbreaks, wins, losses, losing Jules and Hervé, funerals, weddings and much more. The majority of your time together is spent in your family’s house in Nice. Charles doesn’t mind the half-hour journey, an hour if he decides to go back but he hardly ever does. Sometimes, he manages to convince you come to Monte Carlo for the day by bribing you with promises of sunsets and ice cream, but he will always drive you back if you insist you want to go home without any complain. 

The first time you bring up the topic of moving, you’re in your last year of high school; by that time, Charles is already racing in Formula One, so your time together is limited to breaks between the races. However he tries his hardest to be there for you, from talking you through breakdowns that occur after long study sessions, to looking up pre-med programmes for you to apply all over the world. You never wanted to live your entire life between Nice and Monte Carlo in the first place, so is he is more than happy to help you explore your options. Your application results arrive when he’s on break between the races, so the two of you sit on the small table in his Monaco apartment’s kitchen, the light from your laptop lighting up both of your faces as you open up the emails one by one. You’re most anxious about your application to Columbia, which is 3.462 miles away from Nice, and 3.993 from Monte Carlo. By the time you finish opening up all the emails, both of you are sitting there with a silence between you. The acceptance letter still open on your laptop is congratulating you for your offer to join Columbia’s pre-med program the following September. 

“Yes,” He looks at you expectantly, “Accept it, Y/N, you shouldn’t be even thinking about it!”

“Yes?” You let out a nervous laugh. “It’s not that simple, Charles–” 

“But it is!” He argues, a big smile on his face. You can tell he is proud of you by the look in his eyes and the way his emotions carry through his voice. “It’s your top choice of school!”

“It’s also in New York, it means that there will be an entire ocean between us!” 

He shrugs. “So?” 

“So?” Your eyes widen in surprise, you start staking your head a little without being aware that you are doing it. “Doesn’t that scare you?” 

“Chérie,” Charles coos, pulling your chair by its leg to bring you closer to him and wrap a supportive arm around your body. His chest rumbles from his low laughter as he presses kisses to your hair. “We’ll be fine, look at everything we’ve been through, and we’re not even that old.” 

You scoff, hitting his chest in an attempt to get away; you start furiously typing on your computer. “You are old,” you point to him with a tilt of your head, “I’m not, though.” 

He rolls his eyes and turns his concentration to the tab still open on your computer, “You’re going to accept the offer, though, right?” 

You end up accepting the offer. Charles and his family is there alongside yours to send you off on a plane to New York City. Both your mother and Charles’ have tears in their eyes as they say their goodbyes, with your father giving you a similar look. Being the youngest of four siblings, it must’ve been hard to send their youngest all the way across an ocean, but they let you know that you have their support in every step of the way. With Charles’ schedule for the remaining races scattered all over the world, he tells you not to force yourself and to enjoy your first months as a college student. 

You surprise him in Austin, though. Arranging this surprise is definitely not the easiest, but you ask Lorenzo for his help and he is more than happy to make arrangements for you. It’s the end of Friday’s last practice session when you surprise him in the Alfa Romeo garage. He almost walks past you, to get rid of his helmet when you say his name, but once he realises it is you he quickly pulls in for a hug. “What are you doing here?” He asks you while laughing with glee. 

“Heard there’s an immunology seminar in town about the effects of talking a shower and then going out without drying your hair.” You answer with all the seriousness you can muster. 

“Really?” He asks in confusion, taking his helmet and balaclava off and trying to fix his sweat-soaked hair. 

You hit the back of his head lightly, shaking your head in disbelief. “No! I came here to see you race, you idiot!” 

He shakes head in understanding. “Oh, oh!” His eyes widen once again with recognition this time. 

“Yes, oh, now come on, we’re going out.” You’re quick to add, “To dinner because airplane food sucks. We’re going out clubbing after the race, though.” 

True to your word, you go clubbing after his race on Sunday, which Charles is not entertained by. He’s paranoid by the fact that you are in the club with them in the first place, which should not be happening because you’re underage. He keeps silent as you show the bouncer your id, which he knows is a fake, by the way; as he sends Lorenzo an incredulous look, his older brother’s reaction consisting off a shrug of the shoulders makes him more paranoid. 

“Y/N, you should not be drinking.” He voices his concern, as you’re on your second drink of the night. “This is wrong.” 

“How is this different than me drinking back at home?” You argue with your eyebrows raised. “You don’t tell me I can’t drink when we’re back home.” 

“Because it is legal for you to do so there!” Charles exclaims, somehow gathering the attention of some of the clubbers nearby, but he offers them an apological smile and then turns back to you with his voice lowered. “You’re not twenty one, ergo – you shouldn’t be drinking.” 

“Pfft,” You shrug him off, “You’re stupid, and I’m bored. You want to dance?” 

You help Charles to move into his flat in Italy when he starts racing for Ferrari. Though he still lives in Monaco full-time, he rented a small place in Maranello to stay when he’s travelling. It’s an emotional event, which has both of you sitting on the floor of his new apartment going through boxes of old photographs. He finds one of his brothers and Jules with you, standing in front of a karting ring with big smiles in all of your faces. You fingers involuntarily trace over your brother, your eyes misting when you think about the day. 

“He was so young,” You whisper, having to swallow a sob which threatens to escape. 

Your eyes linger on the photograph for a while, and Charles quickly understands that you were not talking about the photograph as the tears you were trying to hold back find their way onto your cheeks. “He was.” He agrees; there aren’t enough words in the world to describe what losing a family member does to a person, and he understands you in a way most people cannot. 

You offer him a sad smile through your tears. “He would be so proud of you.” 

“He would be also so proud of you,” He whispers right back, leaning closer to you so that he could wipe away the few stray tears. “In fact, I am pretty sure he is.” 

“Stop it.” You laugh softly through your tears as you push yourself to get off the floor, and dry under your eyes with your fingers as you look across the room. “Oh my god, Charles, we have so many boxes to go through.” 

He gets up after you and looks around the dusty living room as he attempts to get rid of the dust on his clothes. “We do, don’t we?” He watches as you kneel in front of an unopened box and slice through the tape with a knife, and starting to go through the items in the box. He watches you go through the items silently for a while, noticing how seriously you take the task. His eyes linger on the frown on your face for a while, the way your eyebrows scrunch in question, or how you tuck a stubborn piece of hair, which escapes from the braid in your hair, to the back of your ear. He stalks closer, gently gripping one of your wrists and pulling you to your feet. “Dance with me.” He asks – which comes off less as an ask and more of a demand, which causes you to playfully roll your eyes at him. 

“Charles, the boxes–” You try to argue. 

His laugh is laced with mischief. “The boxes will still be there, chérie, just one dance won’t change anything.” 

You try to come with arguments in your head but all your attempts are quickly thrown out the window when you realise just how green Charles’ eyes actually are. “We don’t have any music.” You try to offer as a measly argument. 

Charles raises his eyebrows as he wraps his arms around your waist after making you wrap yours around his neck. “We don’t need any music, Y/N.” 

So you give up in any attempts in stopping him, as he starts to slowly sway both of your bodies from side to side. You let out a chuckle when he stars, terribly, humming to an old song you used to hear on the radio. “This is stupid.” You mumble as you keep up your pace with his movements. 

“You seem to keep calling me that.” Charles recalls, making both of you laugh in recognition. “I need to tell you something important.” 

“So tell me,” you encourage him, motioning him to continue. 

“I met someone.” He announces, a small smile playing on his lips. 

You breath get stuck for a moment, in which you remind yourself that Charles is waiting for your reaction – most likely a supportive one at that. “Wow, Charles.” You breath out and give him a smile, which you successfully manage to pass off as a supportive one, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your voice breaks off in the end. “I’m so happy for you.”

You’re not stupid – thinking that either of you could stay single forever is an unrealistic one. But it hurts to imagine him with another person while he looks at you like that makes a part of you crumble up into a ball on your bed and cry. And that’s just what you do when you go back to the hotel that night (because the house is still unliveable when the two of you decide you’re done for the day). You try to keep your sobs as quiet as possible because you know Charles is in the hotel room next to yours. As you’re looking out the window, watching the night sky light up with stars in Maranello that night, you tell yourself you, somehow, need to move on from your best friend. 

The next time you see Charles is during Christmas time. You have a tradition – Lorenzo, Charles, Jules and you, a tradition, which Arthur joined once he was old enough. It’s a peculiar one. While it’s not uncommon for most families to watch Christmas movies during this time of the year, your choice of movie has not Christmas elements in it at all. Every Christmas, the four of you watch The Sound of Music. It’s a silly tradition which was born out of boredom and lack of movies one Christmas, but it’s a tradition you managed carried out every year. 

You can still remember Lorenzo complaining because “It’s three hours of songs about whiskers and bass clef.” 

While Jules gives his best friend an unamused glare, both you and Charles try to mimic the Frenchman who you idolise. “It has nuns, songs, Nazis and familial love, Lorenzo, what more could you ask for?” He shrugs as he turns his attention back on screen, “Plus, Julie Andrews is hot.” 

“Why would she be hot?” You remember asking, the woman on the screen not seeming uncomfortable by the weather. 

“No reason,” Jules assures you, wrapping one of his arms around you.“Watch the movie, shortcake.” 

And yes, while it might be stupid to watch the same movie, which has no Christmas value at all, every year on Christmas day, it’s a reminder that you have each other even if you’re not always together. So when you sit down to watch the movie that Christmas, there is a bad feeling in your stomach when you realise Charles is not there to watch it with you. If his brothers also find it weird that he’s not there they don’t make a comment, neither do you, for that matter. You try to push it to the back of your mind and enjoy the moment, telling yourself that even if this is a tradition between the four of you, it’s not the end of the world if you fail to do it. So you smile, and have fun throughout the day – when you’re watching the movie, or when you decide to hold a gingerbread house competition (Arthur wins, by the way), or when you sit down to have dinner with your families, and it makes you feel a thousand times better. 

It’s late when he comes home that night, Lorenzo and Arthur have already passed out on the couch with you trying to read the anatomy textbook on your lap in the low light. 

“Hi.” He greets you as he gives you a tight-lipped smile. 

“Hi.” You whisper back, trying not to wake up the boy sleeping next to you. “Did you have fun?” 

“Yeah, it was a good day.” He answers truthfully, and then motions the book resting on your knees. “Aren’t you going to go to sleep?”

“No, I think I’m going to stay here tonight.” 

He doesn’t argue as he presses a kiss on your temple. “Okay, good night, chérie.”

One thing about Charles, is that he is very secretive about his relationships – to the point where he won’t introduce someone to you or his family if he doesn’t think the relationship is going somewhere. So, when he brings over Charlotte for lunch the next day, there is a buzz around the house. The lunch goes well, you think. Charlotte is sweet, and the two of you talk about many things including your universities; she’s very impressed that you want to go into the medical field and you tell her that architecture must be a pain in the ass to study and she agrees with a loud laugh. 

When Pascale asks them what they did for Christmas yesterday, Charlotte leans against Charles’ arm as she answers, “Oh, nothing. We just stayed home and watched that old movie – what was it again?” 

“The Sound of Music.” Charles answers, his eyes are focused on his hands, and you know this, because your eyes don’t heave his frame until Arthur forces you to carry the dishes into the kitchen. 

“We’ll do them, maman,” he announces when Pascale attempts to tidy up the dishes, “Y/N will help me, won’t you?” 

“Yeah, sure.” You nod, the voice coming off from you not matching the sunny disposition you present to the rest of the room. 

You carry the dishes Arthur passes to you to the kitchen, holding your breath in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, and you succeed, too. At least until Arthur comes after you, carrying more dishes and places them next to the other ones near the kitchen sink. You start scrubbing them with intensity, your sniffles and the sound from water whooshing around in the sink filling the room. Arthur pulls you against him as you lean your forehead to his shoulder, or where you can on his arm due to your height-difference, as you start quietly sobbing. Arthur turns the tap on as he lets you cry into his shoulder. 

The two of you return to the dining room after the dishes are done, and continue the conversation as if nothing happened. After Charlotte announces that she should be on her way, you walk her to the door with everyone, the two of you exchanging numbers as she makes you promise to go shopping with her the next time you’re in Monaco. You agree with a chuckle and tell her only if she teaches you how to draw because your “Anatomy notes are seriously suffering.” After she gives Charles a kiss and leaves, Charles turns to you. 

“It’s just a movie.” He says in a low voice. 

“You’re allowed to have fun with your girlfriend, Charles.” You assure him and pat his shoulder for good measure. Then, you turn to Arthur, who is watching the exchange with a confused look on his face. “Want to play a round before I leave?” 

“Sure,” he agrees and the two of you move into the living room to play a round of F1 on the PlayStation. He sets it up for you as you try to get comfortable on the couch, trying to get rid of the feeling of unease as Charles watches you from the other side of the couch. “Who do you want to pick?” Arthur asks you, the cursor hovering over his choice – who is of course his brother. 

You stay quiet for a moment and answer him in a calm voice, “Give me Max.” 

Charles scoffs from the other side and pushes himself off, his arms crossed over his chest. “Rich, Y/N, just rich.” 

“What?” you ask him with faux innocence and a shrug of your shoulders. 

His voice is accusatory when he snaps, “Stop being childish for a moment.”  

“Oh, I’m being childish?” You ask him, getting off the couch as well. 

“Yes, you’re being extremely childish right now.” He agrees, nodding his head. “Glad we at least agree on that.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask again while narrowing your eyes. 

He scoffs, “It’s just a stupid movie.” 

“I didn’t say a fucking word about the movie, Charles.” You point out, mimicking his pose as you cross your arms over your chest. In reality, it’s a short attempt at trying to hide your shaking hands. “But it’s not a stupid movie, it’s tradition.” 

“Traditions can be broken from time to time.” He argues.

“I didn’t say they couldn’t.” You shrug, trying to appear indifferent to the man in front of you. 

“Maybe if you tried to stick around for more than three days at a time, you wouldn’t be so upset about these type of things.” 

Your mouth hangs open in shock. “Excuse me?”

“Charles, maybe you should–” Arthur tries to stop his brother, but Charles waves him off. 

“Sometimes I think ‘Did I do something?’, but then I realise that maybe the problem is not me–”

Though you’re shocked by his words, you find yourself assuring him, “It’s not, it has nothing to do with you.” 

Both you and Arthur can see something snaps in him, causing him to raise his voice. “Then what is it? Tell me so I can fix it and you can stop running away!” 

You shake your head, your arms which are wrapped around you becoming tighter as an attempt to provide yourself some sort of protection. “You can’t fix it, Charles.” 

His arms become undone as his fists ball on either side of his body. “You don’t know that–”

“No you can’t!” You scream, somehow more tears flowing from your eyes. “You can’t bring Jules back because he’s dead, and you can’t fix me because I’m not a toy! You think I want to live this way? You think I want to go back every damn time I set foot in this city because I just hate it here? I can’t bear the thought of staying here because of the fact that my brother died while I was here and I didn’t get to say goodbye to him.” You point a finger towards him, your voice gradually becoming louder to match his. “He was dead by the time I got back to the hospital and they told me he couldn’t hold on any longer, how do you think that makes me feel every time I feel like I’ve overstayed in this city, huh?”

“You need to stop living in the past, Y/N.” He shakes his head. “Don’t you see you’re letting the past hold you back?” 

“‘Letting the past hold me back’ do you even hear yourself right now? I am trying my best to move on!” 

“By moving across the ocean?” He asks you, “By leaving the people you love you behind?” 

“You– you can do this!” You scream as you walk towards him and jab your finger against his chest. “You told me to take the offer, you told me to move away because you were so sure we’d be fine.” 

“Well maybe I was wrong.” He whispers, grabbing both of your wrists to stop you from poking him and curling his arms closer to his chest. 

Your eyes widen with a furious look in them, which makes him realise he sees more of Jules in them than before. “Screw you, Charles.” You struggle against his hold, hitting his chest with your fists with every word as you scream, “Screw you for trying to dictate how I process my grief, and screw you for acting so indifferent.” You win your struggle in the end, taking advantage of the fact that he is both distracted and speechless to get out of his hold and quickly grab your things. 

“Where are you going?” He asks you as you’re putting your coat on. 

“Anywhere but here.” You snap at him, refusing to meet his eyes. 

Arthur quickly comes near you with a concerned look, “You shouldn’t be driving right now, at least let me drive you.” 

You give him the warmest smile you can muster up, “I’ll be fine, ThurThur,” your eyes find Charles’ as you continue, “Don’t ever change, okay?”

After the disastrous Christmas last year, you two didn’t talk for a whole year, even though the people around you tried their hardest to bring you to talk to each other. Even Charlotte tried to trick you into spending time, claiming that she had a work emergency just as you arrived at the lunch you two scheduled to find Charles sitting there – you quickly left without being seen and spent the day walking through the marina because “Fuck Charles if he thinks you can’t spend more than three days in Monte Carlo.” He spends Christmas with Charlotte again, but unlike this year, you don’t feel sad about his absence, choosing to call it growth when reality it’s actually packing it away to deal with it another time. 

The two of you eventually do make up, though, when you go to one of Arthur’s races to support him and run into Charles on the track. You talk between breaks, both of you succumbing and apologising to each other for the things you’ve said – him more than you, but you still apologise for the way you’ve acted afterwards. Arthur has a strange smile on his face when he finds you, releasing a relieved breath when you told him that you’re fine and you’re going to take baby steps. 

“Good,” he smiles, “maman was about to lock you onto Charles’ yacht.” 

Your therapist calls is ‘survivor’s guilt’. Yes, you have one of those now because although you want it to be false, you think a part of what Charles said might be right. She explains to you that it’s a natural response where someone has suffered a loss and you didn’t. This confuses you, though, because even if the loss in question is the death of your brother, you weren’t there to experience it with the rest of your family. Dr. Gambini is there to explain that “Although it implies experience, it doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t not feel the loss of something you didn’t get to suffer.” So, you go through the therapy experience to try to understand your own feelings, which makes you think maybe it is what you should be focusing on in the first place. It’s an overwhelming feeling, understanding things about yourself which you didn’t before – the things you used to feel slowly gain meaning as you go about it. You’re proud of yourself when you talk about it to your parents, and they tell you that they are proud of you for giving it a go. Charles joins you in one of your sessions – it’s Charlotte’s idea, actually. He tries to understand why, and how he can help you – he leaves the session feeling proud of you for taking care of yourself. 

A few months later, you get a phone call from him when you’re in the middle of the week when you are studying,  while all of your friends are away for spring break. His voice is thick with tears as he tells you that it’s over between him and Charlotte, but refuses to give you a reason when you ask why. It leaves you confused in New York, but when he asks you if you can come home for the weekend, you don’t hesitate to book a ticket for the next flight out. He’s shocked to find you standing in front of his door, but pulls you in for a hug anyway. Neither of you care about the duffel bag that hits the floor at your feet, even when you’re stumbling over it to get to him. You don’t talk, but hold each other throughout the night. He offers to cook for you, but you decide that ordering pizza is a better solution than trying to each what Charles attempts to cook. So, you end up deciding on pizza and a movie. 

You look at him confused when you realise which movie he’s selected, “It’s not Christmas, Charles.” 

He sits down on the couch, and pulls you under his arm as he reaches for the pizza box sitting on the coffee table. There’s a nostalgic smile on his face which you cannot understand. “I owe you two screenings of this movie, Y/N. Now eat your pizza and watch it.” 

So, the two of you watch the movie in silence – with silently laughing in relevant scenes and Charles even attempting to sing the Lonely Goatherd, which leaves you in tears because of how much you’re laughing. At the end of the night he walks you to the guest room in his apartment and pulls you for one last hug, whispering, “Thank you for coming,” into your hair. 

“Of course, Charles.” You whisper, turning your head and softly pressing a kiss to his shirt-covered chest. “Try to get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you in the morning. 

He’s in the kitchen when you wake up in the morning, focusing so intently on something on his phone to notice you. You ruffle his hair as you make your way through the kitchen to make some breakfast for the two of you. “Good morning to you too, you grump.” You tell him, when you finish getting out the ingredients for the breakfast you have in mind. 

“Morning, chérie.” He answers, in a non-committal voice.  

“And to think I was going to make you pancakes.” You sigh as you halt the movement of your hands and lean against the counter. 

A playful smile is on your lips when Charles excitedly raises his head. “Pancakes?” He asks in a soft voice. 

“I was going to add chocolate chips, too, but you didn’t say good morning to me and now I don’t think I’m in mood to be honest with you.” You shrug, starting to put away the bowls you took out. 

He quickly comes behind the counter to tickle some sense in you, and you use the bowl in your hands as a shield as you start laughing. He gives up after a while, pressing a kiss to your temple and fixing some of your hair which fell out of place during the ‘fighting’. “Good morning, how can I help you?”

“Wow, you actually want to help me cook for a change?” You coo, ruffling his hair again and hitting his hip with yours to get him out of your way. “Go wait on the other side, you grumpy baby.” He complies to your directions to sit on the other side of the island, but doesn’t bother with his phone this time. You make a motion towards his phone on the island with your head as you crack the eggs into the bowl. “Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, just some problem with the car.” He answers. “I might need to go to Maranello for a day or two. When is your flight back to New York?” 

“Oh– I can change it if you know the date–” You start to say, but he quickly cuts you off. 

“What? No, I don’t want you to go back.” He quickly says, shaking his head. “I just thought you might want to come with me rather than stay here.” 

“Oh,” You say, looking around. “It’s not a problem, I can stay and study.” 

There is a confused look on his face. “Stay? Here?” He asks over and over again. “Here? Stay? Alone?”

“Yes, Charles, I can manage to stay by myself.” You sigh. “I did it last summer for a month, you can trust me, alright?”

“You were in Monte Carlo for a month, last summer? How did I not catch you at all?” 

You let out another sigh, “In case you don’t realise, I’m very good at avoiding you.” You continue when he gives you yet another confused look as you start mixing the batter. “Charlotte told me to meet her at a restaurant but it was a set up for me to meet with you, so I got in the car and drove away. It was probably the closest we got to each other.” 

“Wow.” He looks at you with wide eyes. “Just, wow.” 

You roll your eyes and glare at him. “Stop looking at me like that. My classes are all online this semester and Dr. Gambini thinks it’s good for me to spend more time here; it’s supposed to help me get closure, or something.” 

He gives you a big smile. “I’m proud of you, Y/N.” 

“Yeah?” You ask him, his smile quickly mirroring on your own lips. 

“Yeah.” He breathes out. “And you can stay here all you want! And cook me breakfast, you know.” 

You let out a laugh this time. “I can get my own place, Charles.” 

“But then who will cook me breakfast?” He asks with a small pout. 

“You are a child, Perceval.” You laugh at the way he looks at you, with his elbows bent over the counter and his upper body leaning over the stove. “I’m only cooking you breakfast; you have to promise you won’t fall in love with me after this.” You joke. 

You turn around to look in the cupboard for the chocolate chips as you hear him mumble, “Too late.” 

You almost hit your head at the open cupboard door when you turn right back to look at him. “What?” You walk towards the island as you mumble out, “No, no, no, no, don’t say that. You just broke up with your girlfriend, Charles.”

“We broke up almost five months ago.” He announces, no hint of joking in his voice. “Right before the Abu Dhabi race.” 

“That’s not true.” You say, shaking your head. “I spoke to Charlotte; she told me everything was fine.” 

He shrugs, then offers you an explanation. “We announced it a couple of months later, but we’ve been broken up for a while.” 

“But then why did you call me a couple of days ago to tell me it was over?” You ask him, visibly confused. 

He looks guilty as he admits. “I– I don’t have a good answer for that.” He stalks over to the other side of the island again to trap you between himself and the marble in an attempt to prevent you from evading. “All I can say is that I love you.” 

“Oh, wow.” You say, suddenly you can find the right choice for words. “Say that again for me?”

“I love you, Y/N.” 

“Now in French?” 

“Je t'aime.”

“In Italian?”

“Ti amo.” He laughs this time, leaning down towards you to bring his face towards yours. “You done?” You nod your head with a giggle escaping past your lips. “This would be a perfect time to say something, you know.” 

“Oh, right.” You nod in acknowledgement. “Thank you.” 

“What?” He asks in horror. 

“Yeah, thank you. You know, for the–”

“Chérie!” He exclaims with his eyes wide. 

You continue your giggles as you place your hands on his cheeks and pull his face towards you, resting his forehead on yours. “I love you too, chez moi,” my home/place. The pancakes are long-forgotten when you pres your lips on his to give him a kiss, somewhere in the universe your twelve year-old is high-fiving with herself, but you are happy to be finally home. 

[theblueboxscholar]

People who think the Classic Doctor era Doctors don't fuck, have eyes clouded.

Like. I'm sorry. ONE had 13 children. Then collected son and granddaughter figures like crazy. Fell in love and got accidently engaged and was VERY OBVIOUSLY upset about having to leave her (Cameca), keeping the token of her affection.

TWO quite LITERALLY met Jamie, Polly said "can we keep him", Jamie said "ive got no better options. It's you or the south Americas." And TWO spent the better part of a season earning Jamie's loyalty. Jamie literally repeatedly fights off time lord mind wipes so he's more often than not plucked from time to do missions with Two whose also often out of time for Time Lord nonsense. Jamie is basically all TWO needed.

THREE (whooooo boy you guys are blind) literally was so smitten with Liz, but she was too smart to tolerate his nonsense, and he was SO grumpy about it. And then there's Ms. Josephine Grant. THEY LITERALLY MIRROR HIS MEETING HER WITH HER MEETING HER FUTURE HUSBAND. THEY ARE MIRROR IMAGES. JO LOVED THE DOCTOR AND HE LOVED HER! HE LITERALLY WENT AND STOLE THAT DAMN CRYSTAL, FOR HER! But too late, so it was a wedding present and he literally drove sadly off into the sunset.

Enter Sarah Jane who he also very quickly began "My dear"ing (something he does if you're special. Note two and three say this to the Brigadier as well 👀). They have such a short time together, but the amount of times he gently touches her face. They WHOLE fast cut away from Three nearly kissing her at one point (i believe it was Sarah not Jo, but that cut edit makes me so livid. Jon was going for the LIPS), and the way Sarah looks at Three. SHE WHOLE BREAKS DOWN when he's dying. And all he can do is touch her face and say "a tear for me Sarah?" He's so gentle and kind. She was so enamored with him. Very early Clara Twelve of her tbh.

FOUR and Sarah Jane are literally soul mates (my own preferences aside, I cannot deny them). Four is so into her. The way they act together is so Nine Rose, the way they behave. But then he runs away because damn those Time Lords again.

Enter Leela. Honestly. She's the first Classic Who lady (Vicki, Victoria, Polly, and Zoe don't count, they're too young) who's not romantically interested in the Doctor. And while he definitely loves her, it's more akin to platonic best friend soulmatism; Leela joins Barbara as a "Best Friend" of The Doctor. Aka both become Donna Nobles before Donna Noble. "I shall miss you too savage." Is a line that tears my heart out every time. He is so sad to leave her, but at least he knows where she is. (And whole rescues her from the time war during the day of the doctor event. What a man.)

Romana I. Now this one is tough. They're very obviously flirty, but there's a sort of school ground resistance about the attraction. She makes Four feel old because she thinks it's funny and he has to up his game to impress her cause she's not a backwaters human with no knowledge. (I'll be honest. She's my least favorite of the two so while I enjoy her and she's in great serials, I retain basically nothing. Will hopefully change with the next watch through.)

Romana II. She whole changes her face and body and shows it off like she's showing him new clothes. But she's also teasing him. They whole both fall into "well we have a son now... that's..fuckin great i guess" when they meet Adric. They both are such begrudgingly parental figures but they do it and they care about him so much. Romana's departure is lame. I said what I said. But it's fine. She eventually goes to do dubious lebianisms with Leela and her girlfriend and husband it's fine. Shhh.

Tegan. (This one might get me crucified ngl) Tegan and Five. I know. I hear you. But Tegan is bisexual. And she definitely had a developing thing for Five. The way they act together is so "we could probably be epic together, or at least satisfactory... if you'd just stop being an asshole for TWO SECONDS--!" They're the screaming cat kinda couple. That never manged to couple. Because there were kids (Adric, Nyssa.) And so much bullshit happening constantly. But also don't forget Five and his fling(s) with Harry Houdini. Harry definitely thought Five was pretty.

Five and Turlough. Did you even watch Five and Turlough? Are your eyes THAT clouded? That's a Doctor and his twink. And Turlough is a different brand of twink than Jamie, and he's not much of an attack dog. But Five quite literally knowingly and willingly rehabilitate and gives him more than a 2nd chance. He tends to Turlough. But also, like Sarah Jane, Turlough was 100% a writer getting back at BBC. "Oh you thought Jo Grant wasn't weak and feminine enough? You want us to make someone the opposite of her who will be a weak damsel? FUCK YOU! CURSES YOUR HOUSE WITH SARAH JANE SMITH! AN EVEN BIGGER BAD ASS THAN JO! HAH!", "you're homophonic? Fuck you, writes a literal faggy ass twink with long legs to fawn around with The Doctor, fuck you!" And best of all, it is canon that Turlough would have stayed forever if he wasn't trying to make The Doctor proud and tend his responsibilities. (You're a good boy T.)

PERI BROWN did not breast boobily throughout the Doctor Who backdrops (nearly catching her (the actress') death btw) for y'all to say The Doctor wasn't into her. FIVE was so into her. Sure it's a rebound so he tries to play it off, but Turlough sees it. Sees the "God i miss Tegan" vibes Five gives off. Peri Brown forcefully and loudly insinuated herself into the Doctods hearts. And good thung too, cause she is the ONLY companion who can handle the SIXTH Doctors nonsense. Only an American could tolerate his ass and still actually truly wholly love him. I'm sorry. Six whole would have murdered a man and changed so much history that earth would have been unrecognizable ALL because he thought Peri was dead. Like. Six would burn up a sun to bring Peri back to life. His only concern is "is Peri alive?!?" And relieved enough to see her alive and content (it's dumb) when the time lords lied and said he'd lead her to her death.

Mel. Oh sweet Mel. She joins the Pre-Donna Noble's gang (Barbara, Leela). But unlike the rest she is PLATONIC SOULMATE BEST FRIEND TO ALLLLLL THE DOCTOR, REGARDLESS THE FACE~ (bless her.)

Seven MAKES the CHOICE to be celebate Meaning, The Doctor's before him, FUCKED. SEVEN IS NOT ASEXUAL OR AROMATIC (you keep your headcanons going tho never stop ever ever ever youre doing amazing sweeties) and shows on a few occasions the desire to be close, but knows he's not worth it. (He's kinda right, but i still would REDACTED his REDACTED till the cats come home.)

Eight. ... HAHAHAHAHAHAHhHaha....

HahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHANANAHANAHAHAHAHAHAHAH.

You think Eight doesn't fuck. Get the hell outta here man. Fuck haha. That's hilarious.

"The world doesn't end just because The Doctor dances." Did... did you miss that Dancing is a metaphor for sex? Oh... sweet innocent bean. Baby. Baby. Rose Tyler was talking about fucking. Jack Harkness was talking about fucking. The Doctor was embarrassed bevause he's rusty/he HIMSELF that version, had yet to fuck. And then they all three did. A lot. There was so much weird fucking and flirting between The Doctor Dances and Boom Town. It's not even subtle.

Ten. Rose is RIGHT there. You're an idiot. ♡ ilu tho.

Martha wishes, but she dodged a bullet.

Donna Noble is best friend shaped, they literally show no sexual chemistry. They are platonic best friend soulmates. They love each other, would die for each other, but fuck each other? No. Not even a little. Having to kiss even under duress might mean avtual death because neither of them could pull it off convincingly.

Eleven fucks way more than Nine OR Ten but it's so far and in-between he always feels kinda awkward about it. But also he's FAKING the hip with the youngins stuff. All of Eleven is an act. He admits it A LOT. And he showcases a few times he CAN turn on the sauve I know what I'm doing thing. Usually at the wrong times but still. He and River fuck. So much.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND ESTEEMED MEMBERS OF THE NONCOMFORMING--CLAAARA OSWALD~

Clara and Eleven start off as awkwardly flirty, a sort of unintentional cat and mouse. I mean the whole "this isn't a ghost story, it's a love story" scene wasn't exactly subtle. Yes he's referencing Ten and Rose unintentionally most likely, but narratively it's telling us the audience that it's talking about 11 Clara. It's also the first on screen moment we see the light bulb go off for Clara. She KNOWS now that he likes her for sure for sure.

Oh Twelve Clara we're really in it now huh? Like Sarah Jane Smith before her, Clara Oswald wants to WRECK that old man. She has a whole tirade to madam Vastra about how she's always been into old dudes so The Doctor is TOTALLY still her type MORE so in fact now! (Look. She was unprepared for a traumatic regeneration event. She comes around, grow up. AS if Rose Tyler wasn't there sobbing like a baby about it.) And then she spends the rest of her run doing nastier shit than fucking with Twelve until it literally kills her. She fucks so much with The Doctor, matches his fucking freak in ways companions of the past (Jo Grant you are excluded from this) just haven't! She manages to make The Master (Missy) jealous! HA! YOU THOUGHT THE MASTER WAS JEALOUS BEFORE???? NOOOOoooOoooo hahahahahha. Not since Delgado!Master has The Master sort of had a situationship with the Companion. Clara matched Twelves freak so much it literally killed her, and then it didn't.

Bill is a lesbian and that's her grandad.

Again. River Song is right there, and Twelve spent 24 years fucking her. And probably crying after, because let's be real... we'd cry to if we got to fuck River Song.

Yasmine Kahn... you're kicking yourself for not fucking The Doctor. And she's definitely kicking herself to stop her from kicking you too for not fucking her! (From the show alone, there was definitely no fucking. At least not between Yas and Thirteen. Thirteen does fuck however.)

Fourteen. Personally, I think he fucks. I think companions will be calling him up, catching up, and they're definitely going to end up in bed together. Like, the ONLY reason he wouldn't fuck Tegan now is because she's married to Nyssa and that'd be weird cause she's a daughter figure. /he'd make that great grossed out face David does./ But you cannot tell me he doesn't invite Dan out to France and they end up getting down and dirty in a way that would have NEVER happened with Thirteen. It briefly makes Dan wonder if he's a lesbian now. Fourteen just says he doesn't think that's how it works.

But in all seriousness, Fourteen probably could, and probablt gets offers, but more often than not he probablt just wants to chill, share dinner, maybe watch telly nothing more.

Fifteen. /Will Smith gesturing meme/ LOOL AT HIM! YES OF COURSE HE FUCKS! (Begrudgingly I gesture to Rogue. If the night had been longer they definitely would have fucked. But we'll probably never see him again so I'm not holding my breath.)

Let the scales fall from your eyes! Go, rewatch, SEE.

(This message is NOT for repulsed asexuals. You just keep doing what you're doing~ 👍🏻)

[kinzis-writing]

Christmas Tree Farm | Josh Allen

Kinzi's 25 Days of Christmas: Blogmas Day 4

It is Y/N's first Christmas living with her fiance, Josh. Y/N had a Christmas tradition to wear her family and/or friends always went to a Christmas tree farm to pick out their live tree. Y/N is sad when she feels her tradition has to stop because of a new developed allergy to her favorite kind of Christmas trees. Josh makes it his mission to keep the tradition alive, even if he has to improvise a little.

Pairing: Josh Allen (Bills/NFL) x Fem! Fiance! Reader

Warning(s): mentions of allergies? Christmas traditions, and I think that is all.

Christmas was Y/N's favorite time of year. She loved living in New York because it had a higher chance of snow then what she was used too, where she was from the south. This was her first Christmas in her new house, well their new house. It wasn't new, but it was new to Y/N because she had moved in with her fiancé after six months of being engaged and wedding planning. Everything was perfect, until Y/N had an allergic reaction to something that she used to love and was forced to get allergy tested. Y/N was devastated when her allergy test came back that she was allergic to the type of trees that she loved to use as her live Christmas trees every year.

Looking back, she should have known something had changed. As she kept what she thought was a sinus infection all winter until she took her tree down. She was just in denial and refused to think it was an allergy. Her love for the holiday still existed, but it saddened her to not be able to have a live Christmas tree just like all those years of traditions.

"Josh, I already told you that I'll decorate this weekend. It's going to take me until after Christmas to find a free that I like." Y/N complained as Josh had mentioned them going to the store and finding Christmas decorations for their house. He had known the toll the allergy results had taken on his fiancé, and he hated that there was nothing he could do to fix it. "Going to the store isn't the same as going to the tree farm." She mumbled in disappointment.

"I'm sorry, baby." Josh mumbled leaning over a placing a tender kiss on her head. "I know how much it bothers you to have to discontinue a tradition you've had since you were a kid, but maybe we can start a new tradition?" He suggested hoping to make her feel better. "One of our own."

Y/N gave her husband a small smile. She was beyond grateful to have someone like Josh in her life, "Thank you, Joshy." she replied to him. "I just, it's such a big part of this Holiday that it stings a bit to let it go."

Once brunch was finished, Josh headed out to go meet his teammates for workout and practice. Y/N had been around his teammates plenty of times, whether that be after games, or at parties or hang outs. She was the closest to Stefon, which is why Josh had taken the problem to his teammate and asked for help. During their workout, the two men talked about what they could do to help Y/N feel better.

It had taken them a while to figure out how to keep her tradition but make it to where her allergies would not bother her. Until the men had an idea, once they approved that it was worth a try. They had a plan in motion and pulled some strings. Which is why when Josh came home from practice all smiles, Y/N was a bit unsure of what had happened that day.

"What's got you in a good mood?" Y/N asked, wanting to know what had happened that day.

Josh gave her a smile as he walked forward and wrapped his arms around her. "Get ready, I'm taking you out." Josh replied giving her a quick kiss before letting her go get ready.

It was cold in New York, so Y/N dressed warm and put on some makeup really fast. She didn't feel like going out but she would see what Josh had planned. She knew that her fiancé was only trying to make her feel better about the whole situation.

The couple left once Y/N had gotten ready and they had warmed up the car. Josh then handed her a blindfold, to which she protested at first but eventually gave in knowing that he was trying to make her feel better.

"Where are we?" Y/N asked once the car had stopped, probably after around 30 minutes, and Josh was helping her out.

"You'll see." Josh promised as the two continued walking with Y/N being led by Josh. He stopped her at the entrance that him and stefon had threw together. He carefully took Y/N's blind fold off.

Y/N stood in shock at what she was looking at. A light snow dusted the ground making it even better. A homemade sign reading "Christmas Tree Farm" hung up over a simple but cute arch that was clearly homemade as well. At least a dozen artificial trees were stuck in the ground, with who knows what, but she could tell that they weren't the cheaper trees that she had been looking at. These trees actually looked like the real Christmas trees that she usually used.

"I know this still isn't the same, but I wanted to try to make you happy." Josh rambled as he got nervous when his fiance did not say anything.

"It's perfect." she spoke softly, tears welling in her eyes. She turned to face her man with a grin. "This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you."

A smile grew on Josh's face, "I'd do anything for you baby." He assured.

"Hey!" A voice broke the couple out of their moment. "I helped too." The voice of their best friend reminded.

Y/N smiled at her man's teammate, "Thank you, Stefon." she thanked him before walking and giving him a hug as well.

"You're welcome, anything for Mrs. Allen." He shrugged but then smirked when he noticed how red her face had gotten from his comment.

Y/N made her way back to Josh as they made small talk and walked around the homemade farm to pick out the Christmas tree that they would be decorating for their living room. Once she had found the perfect tree, Josh had gotten the tree to their house and got it set up in the place that she was wanting it.

"Thank you again, Joshy." Y/N spoke up as the pair decorated the tree together. "I know I was a downer this morning, and I am so sorry. But I am forever thankful for what you created." she promised.

Josh gave her grin knowing how much his plan had helped her get over her sadness. It was all he was hoping for because he knew how much Y/N loved Christmas. "When I say I would do anything for you, I seriously mean that I will do anything for you." Josh explained. "I love you and I promise to take care of you and fulfill your needs and wants. You're my world, and you always will be."

Author's note: This could have ended better, but I have been trying to write so many of these and I keep on getting behind. Also, I have to go back to the doctor tomorrow because they think I have a heart condition, so I have to go get that checked out at 10 in the morning. This past week I had multiple tests done to check my heart so I have been stressed out since I went to the dr the first time. I'm hoping for good news but you never know.

[pettyshippen]

Thoughts I Have After Seeing Elemental For the First Time 😈🥬

Yes, there are spoilers below! If you have not seen the movie and have issues with spoilers, keep scrolling. Thank you!

That being said, let’s dive in!

🔥 Not only are her parents immigrants but they speak a made up language called Firish. As an Irish American person, I thought that was cute!

💧 The Manticore from Onward is no longer the most relatable character to service workers. That honor goes to Ember now.

🔥 Yes, customers are really this stupid and entitled. The sparkler buy one get one free scene is a gold star example of that.

💧 Wade Ripple is who more men should be like; sweet, sensitive, loving, devoted, and charming but also awkward in an adorable way.

🔥 I never laughed so hard at the death of a grandmother ever. That was definitely not written to be sad at all.

💧 Wade isn’t afraid to say how he feels about Ember in front of his entire family and that’s very ballsy but way too fast.

🔥 Their date was so precious and the song in that scene is repeating on Spotify right now.

💧 I love that they eat wood chips and drink lava coffee.

🔥 Those flowers are absolutely stunning. And so is Embers glasswork.

💧 The antics between Cinder and the Door Man were wonderful. The Door Man also looks like the most huggable water guy.

🔥 I went awwwww in my head when their hands touched for the first time. It was such a sweet moment and I didn’t like that things went south after that.

💧 Would they be able to have sex? Because from the beginning of the film, we know element women can physically get pregnant. So a water penis in a fire vagina does what? Would she evaporate it away?

🔥 The kiss they shared near the end if the film was so sweet. Honestly one of the best kissing scenes written by Pixar tbh, with apologies to Linguini and Collette.

💧 Do male earth elements grow floral pubic hair like their armpit hairs? Imagine having flowers for pubes.

🔥 What’s the wedding gonna be like? Because I bet Ember would walk down the aisle in a stained glass gown.

What if it looked something like this?? 👀🔥

💧 Ember loves her father but was trying too hard to make him proud. It was unfair for him to never ask her what she wanted out of life.

🔥 Wade saving the blue flame: 👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

💧 Of course I wanted to cry when Wade started evaporating but I knew he’d come back somehow.

🔥 He went through all of that for her.

💧 They way he offers his hand 🥹🥹🥹

🔥 Hell, the way he looks at her. That’s love man.

💧 Marco and Polo are so cute!!

🔥 Love love LOVE all the chainmail and glass fire people are wearing! Especially that glass robe!

💧 If I were a fire person, I would just stand in front of a fan all day

🔥 THEIR STROLLERS ARE GRILLS 😭😭😭

💧 What if they had a baby? Would the baby be made of steam? Is it gonna be a…. Steam punk?

🔥 How much is Wades monthly rent because DAMN. This apartment is super swanky.

💧 So there is both biotic water people and abiotic water. And they can make themselves one with that water

🔥 Wades the dude that becomes everybodys best friend the second they meet him while Ember can barely talk to anybody.

💧 KISS ME IM FIRISH

🔥 This shot is cute af, look at bby Ember with dad Bernie 🥹

💧 Wade Ripple definitely eats out.

[bcolfanfic]

saw your tag about you giving helen Lore in young veterans au and what you've done with her so far has made me so /wipes tears/ i'd love more if you have more you want to share! her and jean being besties is so cute, was the FB group they met in a military thing?

helen my love <3 more below the pics (hi nash)

yeah the fb group her and jean met through was in my mind some sort of spouses/families group for the guy's unit. they were both young wives with lil babies so they started messaging and got tight pretty fast. jean called the group cursed in the social media au bc there was always drama, notttt from them though. helen and jeanie are good girls <3 mostly <3

but winding it back, helen grew up in west virginia in the same little area that nash did and that's how they met.

grew up catholic but her family went to a charismatic catholic church so. catholic and deep south charismatic protestant mashed together. super healthy combo of things for a young girl to grow up in (: obviously (:

met nash in high school and he was kinda her saving grace when her home life was rough/her parents were really goin' a little crazy. nash would go stand outside her window at night and cheer her on crawling out and being soooo brave jumping the like. two feet down to come see him.

then they'd go run off in the woods by her house and (: talk (:

literally. he was a good little catholic boy too. at /most/ before they got married they got a little hot and heavy making out fully clothed.

which good little nash went to confession over. tells that story to the guys in bagram once when they're shooting the shit about religion (in the vein of "i told my priest i needed to repent over busting in my pants") and they laugh so hard they're in tears lmfao.

her parents liked nash though. well, his nice catholic parents more than him but. good enough.

his folks weren't as crazy as hers and adored helen/were happy to have her hanging out at their place instead of going home.

got married the second helen graduated high school (nash graduated two years before her) and she got pregnant with baby wyatt on their wedding night. bc of course.

he already started to process to enlist before they got married so talk about timing w/ her being pregnant. but he gets through basic and tech school before the baby comes.

is in florida doing some sort of training thing under rosie w/ the guys in that crew when she's gettin' reallll close to giving birth. but rosie likes him, and likes helen so he pulls some strings so that nash can get his butt back to west virginia in time.

that baby is his whole world <3 best day of his life. best day of helen's life. if it's a smidge because it's the happiest her parents have ever seemed with her then that's something to unpack later but.

she loves nash, loves their baby boy, life is good.

he ends up bringing her and the bby down to florida so he can be with him while he's still stationed at the base down there which is for quite a bit. the distance from her folks does her some good too.

then that crew of guys gets their orders to deploy to bagram (((:

wyatt is about eight months old. they see him off from florida and then move back up to west virginia to be closer to family while he's gone.

except seeing him off in florida is the last time her and baby wyatt will ever (outside of a screen, they do video call a bit before It Happens) see him again.

this is getting long so i’ll call this past one and end it here but i can do more parts if ppl are interested (: <3

[vanoilette]

CHRISTOPHE DELORNE DATING HEADCANONS ✔︎

warnings; swearing, mentions of smoking, small mentions of nsfw and mentions of hand to genital contact.

authors note; i love this frenchie, yeah hes not dead here, also yes. There is not enough stuff abt him.

Dating this guy is an interesting experience, make sure to get used to the smell of cigar and pet names.

That may have made it sound bad, but i swear he’s not that bad. Christophe matures and actually takes care of himself here.

It was midnight, and you’ve just escaped your residence to go wander off to an abandoned building - soon the aroma of a lit cigar and oddly pleasant smelling perfume filled your nostrils.

You were met with a heavily accented, tall, brunette boy who seemed to not like the disturbance at all.

“Who ze hell are you?”

Yeah, he didn’t like it at all really. But you didn’t care at all either, because you stood there. Why? You didn’t know, you simply felt like annoying someone tonight.

So the next night after that you went to the building again, and the night after that, and the night after that night, so on.

For the first few months of knowing you he told you to just call him; in his own words - “Ze Mole.”

Eventually, he did tell you his real name, Christophe. He wasn’t fast to catch feelings, though he did sort of get used to your irritating yet enjoyable presence every night.

As said in the beginning, get used to the smell of cigars.

When it came to one developing feelings for each other you fell for him first. He was aware of that and decided to just use it against you.

Until he himself actually started liking you, he started calling you names like “Mon Amour”, or sometimes, “Ma Cherie.” Stuff like that.

The pet names soon grew to be normalized in said friendship, but you were getting tired and neither of you two wanted to fess up to the other.

So it stood like that, for about half a year. After a long, painfully slow half year. Finally - you confessed to him first. Surprising yeah i know.

Obviously he was surprised, but he didn’t care. He accepted either way, in s very odd where where he laughed either at you, or just out of nervousness.

Gene kelly kiss on tiktok or youtube, just look.

Once you guys start dating, is when he actually isn’t so much of a jerk, but more of a open jerk, but its progress. Somewhat at least.

Hes very touchy i believe, or just pretty affection. He doesn’t do PDA much though, he’s pretty private.

Although he is private, when he is in private, he could say some pretty suggestive things to you just to see your reaction.

Especially in public - as said, not PDA but he absolutely loves how embarrassed and vulnerable you can get, he thrives off of it.

Once fingered you in the back of a car because he felt like it.

— Moving on from that, he’s pretty much always around you, he’s not exactly social and prefers to be by himself or with you. So he likes having you there for social situations.

The attachment that he grew on you in the beginning of your friendship, the attachment grew even more when you two started getting involved with each other romantically.

Not clingy, but also is clingy. Its in between. He likes his personal space but he also likes being around you. But still always finds himself around you.

His hair is literally tangled sometimes, so you often just help him brush it out because he’s either just too tired or just wants you to do it because he likes you touching his hair.

Since he’s usually just out wandering outside at like 2 AM he literally looks like a drug dealer.

I do believe he grew to be pretty tall, or just really tall. Even if a majority of french people are short, i dunno. He’s just one of the taller people in South Park.

This is gonna sound really corny, but he fully believes that you’ll wed in the future, like he’s fully convinced. Which is really, really shocking coming from him.

He buys you stuff a lot, or he said he bought it. Who knows really, you just get a lot of gifts.

As much as he enjoys his personal space, like i said, he still finds himself around you 24/7 without even realizing it 4 hours into it.

With how late he sleeps, and how he always walks around, he falls asleep with you a lot, or just on you.

Sometimes just comes into your house through your window after 5 attempts at knocking. Yes this has happened on multiple occasions, and he says you should’ve opened the window.

Suspiciously good at lockpicking things.

Pretty much half immune to getting sick and stuff because he ate tons of dirt at some point as a kid with digging.

He basically lives with you at this point, he’s always at your house, or just around you.

When he’s alone though, he just naps. Or smokes, or goes outside on walks.

[skzpixie]

Happy Wedding, my love// happy ending saga

Part 1 - Part 3

CW: none! Just a whole lotta fluff and the two being unserious in their wedding

Taglist: @mynameisnotlaura, @palindrome969

December 21st, 2024 

It wasn’t every day two idols got married, especially ones that were considered to be the nation’s power couple. But today was that day. The day when many people tuned into the news and livestreams to see the two get married.  

Kai paced a hole through the floor of the bridal suit, her brother looking at her confused. He never knew the type of stress brides got on their wedding day. Her bridesmaids had gone to get pictures with the groomsmen, so it was just her, Bo, and Yuqi, Yuqi being her maid of honor. 

The wedding was taking place in a large greenhouse, keeping the people warm from the chill that was winter in South Korea. The large building held several of their closest friends and biggest celebrities. Yuqi and the rest of (G)-Idle were her bridesmaids, while Lisa and Wonyoung were the last two. The boys were Changbin’s groomsmen while Chan was the best man. Ateez, the rest of Blackpink, and almost half of the industry was on the guest list. The rest of the guest list was family on Changbin’s side, making the wedding have roughly seven hundred people attending. Even JYP and his family were attending, that was how big the wedding was being promoted. 

Along with the upscale wedding, came her dress. It was a slight mermaid style, the skirts flaring out after her mid-thigh. The dress from the thigh up weighed 5-10 lbs. itself. It was adorned in jewels and beads, making it hard for her to breath, the corset back not helping her case. Her hair was styled into an elegant updo, the front two strands of her hair freely flowing and curled to frame her face. Her makeup was simple, a nude look with peach lips to enhance her natural beauty. On top of that, her neck and ears were adorned with sapphires and diamonds, making her look like one of those dolls. The necklace, thankfully, wasn’t too gaudy, putting just the right amount of interesting texture to her look. 

Yuqi got a buzz from her phone, and she cursed. “Kai, baby, it’s go-time.” Kai internally groaned. She wasn’t ready yet, she doesn’t think she’ll ever be ready. She took a deep breath, linked her arm with Bo’s, and made her way to enter. Yuqi had quickly gone to walk down with Chan on her arm, giving her a look of encouragement. It reminded her of that day in February, not too long after their engagement. 

“Who's the best man?” Hyunjin asked Changbin, days after the announcement over Instagram and Dispatch. 

“I don’t know.” Changbin commented, braiding Kai’s hair, who was fast asleep with a glass of soju. 

“It’s going to be me, obviously.” Han snorted, making heads snap towards him. 

“Ain’t no way, it’ll be me.” Feliz said, and it became a huge argument between the seven members. Changbin watched them, amused, already having an idea who it’ll be. 

Kai stirred, making the men freeze. “What’s going on?” She yawned, making Changbin glare at the men who woke her up. 

“Just because of that, Chan will be my best man.” Changbin told the seven, picking the one that was least responsible for waking Kai up. 

Chan fist bumped, which led to the members wrestling and dog piling over Chan. 

Kai snorted at the memory, her nerves melting away as the music filled her ears. It was the instrumental version of Butterflies, making her crack up slightly. She met Changbin’s eyes, and they couldn’t stop the giggles that left their mouths at the sight of each other. 

After a quick couple seconds, she stood under the altar, hugging Bo after he went to sit down. The officiant, BoA, started the ceremony. The two had to hold in their laughs whenever they looked at each other, feeling shy whenever they made eye contact. 

“Now, repeat after me.” BoA instructed Changbin, who nodded diligently. She started telling the vows, pausing every now and then to let Changbin repeat after her. After his set, she turned to Kai, doing the same thing she did to Changbin to her. The two held bated breaths, until it was said they could kiss. 

The two went in for a kiss but instead of kissing, they bonked their heads together. This caused the two to burst out laughing. She cradled his head while the two laughed, trying to rub away the red mark while their wedding party couldn’t help but laugh as well.  

After a few seconds of the wedding party being anything but serious, Kai eventually landed a kiss to his lips, getting cheers from the crowd. She pulled away and continued laughing, making her wheeze from how tight the dress was. 

The two walked back down the aisle while their wedding party was following, bouncing and jumping up and down, like it wasn’t supposed to be serious, to hype the couple up. Security quickly crowded the guests into limos to transfer them over to the reception. Kai continued to rub the red mark on his forehead, before kissing it to make it feel better. Changbin chuckled, before kissing her deeply, making her squeak. 

She sighed happily, wrapping her arms around his neck before the limo lurched, the two falling to the floor with a laugh. Changbin quickly helped her up, pulling her into his lap. 

“My husband, ever the gentleman.” She snorted, Changbin kissing her cheek and making her giggle. 

“Call me that again,” he said. She smirked, before doing so. After each time she called him her husband, he would reward her with a kiss in a different place on her face.  

The two soon settled into a comfortable silence, ready to spend the rest of their lives together like this. 

BONUS!!: The pics that inspired Kai's dress (Can you tell these two have plagued my mind??)

[hottpinkpenguin]

Knees - Boromir X Fem!Reader

Oneshot, word count: 3,167 Summary: You've tried to keep your feelings for Gondor's favored captain a secret, and done a damn good job. Until now. Warnings: angst, fluff, heavy steam, implied oral sex A/n: the poem in this oneshot borrows heavily from the lyrics of 'Old Gods' by Emily Scott Robinson (highly recommend her music if you enjoy Nanci Griffith, James Taylor, or Joni Mitchell)

Boromir could feel the beginnings of a headache pulsing at his temples. The din of the crowd milling around the Tower Hall was grating on his last nerve. His father had insisted on an extravagant banquet to celebrate his recent successes as the High Warden of the White Tower, but Boromir would have preferred to rest and spend the evening strolling through the streets of Gondor unbothered. Eager to get away from the crowd, Boromir strode out of the busy throne room onto the south facing balcony.

The night air was warm and smelled of jasmine. Boromir took a deep inhale, leaning his hands on the rail of the balcony and gazing out over the Pelennor Fields, the expanse of grassland that stretched out from Minas Tirith’s feet towards the banks of the Anduin. Boromir strained his eyes against the dim twilight; he thought he could make out the parapets of Osgiliath, Gondor’s first capital, now little more than a ruined river crossing. Faramir was there, as commander of the city’s garrison. Boromir had ordered his brother to oversee repairs to the old city to prepare for the coming battle. Beyond the dark smudge of Osgiliath’s long-vacant towers, an ominous blackness loomed over the land of Mordor. His thoughts turned bleak as he wondered what was stirring behind the mountains in that black land. Scouts reports had confirmed that orcs were-

Boromir jumped at the tinny clang of something metal hitting the stone floor in a darkened corner of the balcony. Instinctually, Boromir’s right hand grasped at the hilt of his sword and unsheathed it in barely more than a breath. He crouched into a warrior’s pose, his sword held out in front of him and his features steely as he looked for the source of the noise.

The quickness of his movements startled you almost as much as your clumsiness had startled him. You were glad for the darkness as you felt your face flush with embarrassment at your discovery. You hadn’t expected the High Captain of Gondor to skip out on his own banquet; in fact, you’d been counting on having the balcony all to yourself, so you’d be able to write in peace. There certainly wouldn’t be anymore of that, now that the small candelabra you’d been using for light was in two pieces on the stone floor. 

You leapt to your feet, muttering apologies and trying to keep your heart from beating out of your chest. You’d never been so close to Boromir before, and certainly not alone in the dark. Your mouth went dry at the realization. 

As one of the Steward’s personal scribes, you’d spent most of your life in the Tower Hall of Minas Tirith. On occasion, your work brought you into close contact with both of Denethor’s sons. Faramir was something of a friend to you, despite the difference in your stations. You both shared a love of the written word and his quiet temperament mirrored yours, making you fast friends. But it was Faramir’s older brother, the handsome and lordly High Warden, that made you go weak in the knees. It had been that way since you’d been old enough to notice such things.

You’d always admired him from a distance and kept your desires to yourself, confiding your feelings only in the pages of your journals. Nothing would come of your infatuation, you knew; Boromir was next in line for the Steward’s role, which was the closest thing Gondor had to a king. His title required him to wed someone of noble birth, and you knew his father would have nothing but the best for his favorite son. While your family was not poor and your duties as a scribe were a great source of pride to them, you did not have the aristocratic heritage needed to be a worthy match for the High Warden. And even if you did, he’s never looked twice at you, a harsh inner voice reminded you, causing your fragile heart to crumple at the reminder.

“Forgive me, my lord, I didn’t wish to disturb you.” Your voice sounded small and pathetic, and you felt your cheeks blaze with renewed embarrassment. 

Boromir relaxed at the sound of your voice, dropping his sword and chuckling softly. 

“You shouldn’t make a habit of startling armed men, you know,” Boromir chided you gently as he bent to pick up the fragments of the broken candelabra at your feet. He was so close that you could see the seams on his blue brocade tunic. When he stood, the candelabra in his hands, he stood almost a half foot taller than you. If you’d been bold enough to hold his gaze, you would have been forced to incline your chin up at him. But you kept your eyes fixed intently on the gray stone floor, hoping he couldn’t hear the erratic thudding of your heart in your chest. He was so close you swore you could feel the faint tickle of his breath on your temple. Your skin erupted in flames where his breath danced over it.

“I’ll make a note of that, my Lord,” you stammered in reply, barely able to keep your voice from breaking. 

“Please, Y/N, how long have you known me? Dispense with the ‘my Lord’ nonsense, I beg you. I’ve heard enough of that tonight.” The sound of your name in his voice sent a thrill running up your spine. You hadn’t realized that Boromir knew you apart from the dozens of other faces he saw on a daily basis around the halls of the Steward’s quarters. That fact, coupled with the High Warden’s closeness, scattered your thoughts like marbles on a smooth floor until you didn’t trust yourself not to press yourself against him, twine your fingers in his hair, press your lips to his, run your hands along the planes of his stomach, pant his name until you were breathless, grab his-

You audibly let out a small, breathless gasp as you tore yourself away and bid your feet to run. You knew that if you stayed that close to him for one more second you would do something irreparable and shameful. All you heard as you left, practically sprinting away into the relative safety of the well-lit throne room, was the blood pounding in your head. It drowned out the sound of the night breeze, the sounds of the party, and the sound of Boromir calling after you…

**********

Boromir watched as y/n scurried away like a frightened animal into the banquet room once again. He must have misread the signals, must have misinterpreted the tension in the air between them. Boromir wasn’t used to being rebuffed in his advances; most people were swayed by his easy charm, his skill with a sword, and his title at the very least. But y/n seemed immune to him, always preferring the quiet company of Faramir. Feeling frustrated and embarrassed, he called out after y/n, but his voice was swallowed up by the sounds of merriment in the throne room. 

“You damn fool,” Boromir cursed to himself as he ran a regretful hand through his hair. He tossed away the broken pieces of y/n’s candelabra, anger at his misstep boiling in his chest as he made to stride off. It was then that he saw it, resting precariously on the balcony’s railing. A small, leather-bound journal. 

Boromir hadn’t noticed it earlier, although he recognized it instantly. Y/n always carried such a journal. Aside from Faramir, it was y/n’s most steadfast companion. 

Boromir froze, eyeing the diary, a conflict raging within him. He knew that whatever contents the journal held were private and to open it constituted a violation of honor. The thought twisted like a knife in his gut. But, on the other hand, Boromir had always longed for a peak into y/n’s mind. For reasons he couldn’t quite articulate, Boromir knew that there was beauty there, if only he could access it. 

He hesitated for only a moment, casting a wary glance back towards the banquet hall. If y/n saw him, Boromir’s far-flung hopes would be dashed forever. No one was looking, and y/n had disappeared into the crowd. It was now or never.

Like a man dying of thirst, Boromir grabbed the journal greedily and cracked it open, his eyes roving the pages and drinking in the words. It was a journal, but so much more. There were smatterings of poetry: some of it original, Boromir deduced, but some of it copied down from y/n’s work in Minas Tirith’s library. Every so often, Boromir found a sketch. Most of it was of Minas Tirith, drawn from the vantage point of the mountains that rose up behind the city. A few horses, children, nondescript landscapes. They were beautiful renderings, detailed and delicate in the linework, incredibly lifelike. 

He continued to flip through the journal. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but in his eagerness to scour the entirety of the book he found he couldn’t focus on any one page for longer than a moment. 

Not until he found his own likeness staring out of the page up at him. 

Boromir recognized himself in y/n’s drawing immediately, although the pen-and-ink Boromir seemed finer somehow. Boromir’s heart pirouetted in his chest as he drank in the drawing, trying to decipher where it was that y/n’s drawing deviated from reality. Y/n had captured the line of his jaw perfectly, even the small scar above his right eyebrow. His hair was rough and unkempt looking, as if he’d just returned from a horseback ride, and he wore his simple fighting leathers. The eyes and lips were a perfect mirror to his own, but still there was something about the drawing… 

His eyes slid down the page to where, at the very bottom of the drawing, he saw a single line of small, impeccably neat handwriting:

A King in a long line of Stewards

Boromir felt the breath hitch in his throat. The sentiment was simple but beautiful, and it touched something very deep inside him. 

The feverish hunger to devour the journal’s contents in a single gulp from moments before slowed and dwindled to something much more tender. Boromir flipped the page slowly, the same neat handwriting covering the backside of the sheaf of paper where his portrait was drawn.

You must be a trick of the memory that the old gods are playing on me,

You travel with my love over plains, mountains and seas.

Your blue eyes are there when I close mine, 

Your voice chases me while I dream,

My heart cries out in the darkness for you,

The roots of the world shake with its scream. 

I’ll drown in this desire and choke on this need,

Say you’re mine once and I’ll fall to my knees.

Boromir read the lines more times than he could count, luxuriating in the words until he could hardly breathe. He knew y/n’s words when he heard them, although he’d never heard anything close to this. Never dared to hope that anything approximating this was in y/n’s heart. His mind danced with a misty light, his heart suffused with warmth. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, using the fading light of the banquet inside to read the lines over and over again until he had them memorized. 

At some point he surfaced from his reverie, his heart beating erratically against his ribs. He stood up from where he’d sat against the railing, smoothing the front of his tunic and the sides of his hair. With a final inhale, he strode off purposefully, weaving through the thinning crowd of Gondor’s nobility, ignoring their greetings. He didn’t hesitate until he found himself standing in front of y/n’s door. Shakily, unsure of what he was about to say, he knocked twice. 

**********

You heard two soft knocks at your door. You glanced at the moon outside, surprised that anyone would pay you a visit this late. It was nearing midnight, you guessed. There was a fluttery feeling in your chest coupled with a pit in your stomach that you hadn’t been able to soothe with either tea or a warm bath. You felt as if you were losing your mind by inches. You’d spent your entire life, more or less, in Boromir’s home and you’d crossed his path hundreds of times before. Why now were you suddenly undone like a smitten child? Your feelings for him weren’t new, so why were you abruptly unable to control them?

You tried to push those thoughts from your mind as you crossed your chamber and unlatched your door. You suspected it would be Teithand, the master scribe. On rare occasions he gave you a special assignment and made a habit of visiting your private chambers to discuss the details of these duties at all hours of the day or night. 

But the figure darkening your doorway wasn’t dressed in the long, cream robes of a scribe, but instead in the formalwear of Gondorian nobility. 

Boromir smiled at you, and the sight of him, leaning casually against your door frame and close to you set your heart ablaze again. The thoughts you’d tenuously strung together shattered and your breath hitched in your throat. 

When you saw the small journal clutched in the High Warden’s hands, however, your stomach fell into your feet. Horror and something deeper than shame consumed you in an instant. 

You hardly had time to process what was happening before Boromir stepped into your chamber confidently. He tossed your journal onto the bed behind you, his now empty hands coming to the small of your back and the side of your face as he caught your lips with his.

You froze. You’d lost all semblance of coherent thought. The whiplash of emotions had left you feeling terrified. Thankfully, your body reacted faster than either your head or your heart. 

As if you’d done it a thousand times before, your lips moved in sync with Boromir’s and your hands tangled in the thick strands of his auburn hair. You gave yourself over to instinct as your mind dissolved under the pressure of his lips. His breath washed over you - warm and ragged - as the two of you pressed your bodies against each other, eager to melt together in the quiet dark of your chamber. His hands roamed over you, tentatively at first, but faster and firmer as you responded to his touch with neediness. You heard a small, desperate groan escape from the back of his throat; the sound of it almost sent you catapulting over the edge of the logic. 

You caught yourself in the instant before you lost all control of yourself, breaking the kiss and pulling back just enough to catch his eyes. 

“Boromir, what is thi-”

“I’m yours,” he whispered back, cutting you off with his words followed by another kiss. This time his lips refused to stay contained to yours. He tipped your head back, exposing your neck to him as his mouth moved along its length. The places where his lips connected with your skin burned like a brand. You felt a heat building deep inside your core. 

“I’m yours, Y/N” he said again. This time it was him who had the sense to pull away. You were panting, and you would have been self-conscious if it weren’t for the fact that he too was on the verge of gasping. His hands came to either side of your face, framing them as his eyes bored into yours. 

“Aren’t you…” Boromir’s question died on his lips, replaced by an impish grin. He raised an eyebrow at you, his eyes moving between your face and the ground beneath your feet. Between the confusion starting to coalesce in your head (what the hell is going on? the rational part of you screamed) and your body alight with desire, you didn’t have enough wherewithal to decipher his meaning. 

“Aren’t I what?” you asked dumbly. A sliver of anxiety spliced its way into your chest… maybe what you were seeing in Boromir’s eyes was just the neediness of a lord looking at someone he knew was game for a tumble in bed, and not the mirror image of your satisfaction at the fulfillment of a long-denied devotion. 

“Going to fall to your knees,” Boromir replied, placing a soft, gentle kiss on your lips. It was almost a question, as if he were asking you. The brazenness of his request startled you, but the heat in your core blazed in response. There was also something familiar about his words…

“In your journal… you wrote, ‘say you’re mine once and I’ll fall to my knees’… I’ve said it twice now, and yet here you stand.” He chuckled softly, his lips dancing along your jaw and over your cheeks as you tried to catch up to his meaning. 

Then, like a clap of thunder, it clicked. The poem. You’d written it over a year ago, the night after Boromir had left Minas Tirith with a garrison of Gondor’s guards to ride to an outpost at the southern border. You’d almost forgotten your words - you’d written so many of them, all of them for him. 

You let you a small laugh in surprise and a hint of embarrassment.

“Didn’t anyone tell you it was rude to read another’s writings, my Lord?” You emphasized the last two words, shooting him a wicked smile as you made good on your written promise and sank to your knees in front of him. Your fingers went to work on the lacing of his trousers, the urgency of the moment rekindling between you. Boromir caught your chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to catch his gaze. He looked breathtaking, standing over you. A King in a long line of Stewards, you thought as you drank in the sight of him. 

“Call me Boromir,” he said simply. “I won’t have you calling me ‘my Lord’ for the rest of our days together.” His tone was casual, but you could hear the intention of his words. You hesitated only momentarily before returning to the task at hand. You broke into a smile, wide and triumphant, and although your attention was focused elsewhere, Boromir’s expression matched yours exactly…

[aquila1nz]

Where oh where is the Shortland Street femslash?

I'm still sad that there's essentially no Shortland Street femslash fic. There were a smattering of Nicole/Harper stories back in the day, mostly on the pit of voles (fanfiction.net).

There's a tiny set of Nicole/Maeve stories on AO3 now, and an even tinier bit of Leanne/Rosalyn. There's no Samira/Francesca, even though I know there are other people like me that loved them and were so sad when that storyline went south so fast. There was so much scope for writing fic for them. This is the heartbreak of tiny fandoms.

I want to read Samira and Francesca's conversation at the wedding reception. I want extensions of all the episodes to give them more time together. I want Francesca taking Samira on a jetboat ride while they're at the conference because Samira has never been to Queenstown before. And oh boy do I want fixit fic: Francesca doesn't leave, Samira goes after her, they meet again in several years time. Francesca has taken that job at Central and they're quietly continuing their relationship during Samira's later episodes but Samira has had enough of the gossip wheel so she's not telling anyone. Any fixit will do.

Samira and Francesca both start working at Seattle Grace at around the same time but their paths don't cross straight away. To confuse things people keep referring to "the new surgeon from New Zealand" without realising there are two of them.

And then this year, where was the Rebekah/Maeve fic? That was so sweetly done for such a fucked up relationship.

Give me Rebekah and Maeve on the run together fic. Unhealthy Maeve trying to be everything for Rebekah fic. Future fic where they live somewhere very quiet far from everything.

Give me your headcanons where Rebekah didn't have Scott kill Wilder, she really has been trying to do her best and it's just all gone wrong along the way.

Give me redemption fic - Rebekah admits it, does her time and finds Maeve in the end.

Give me a crazy prison AU - Rebekah goes to prison for Scott's murder, but the nature of hearsay, proof and what can and can't be included in evidence means Maeve still gets convicted for Wilder's. And they end up in prison together. Maximum angst.

And where is the longform Nicole/Maeve fic trying to make Watsonian sense of their crazy Doylist on again off again relationship and sudden character changes? Where is the fluff fic that ignores it all? Where is my everyone is gay fic that pulls in every possible Shortie character? Where is my future fic that ignores Wilder's death and has all three of Nicole's stepsons working at the hospital, while Pele is a trouble making teenager? Where are the AUS?

And my younger self would love fic about Meredith and Annie, or Caroline and Laura.

Tell me what fic you wish for in the comments. Share your headcanons! Or please write some!!!

[redheadspark]

Hi!! I love your Oliver Wood writings! If someone else hasn’t already asked, could you do Oliver Wood x female reader, with prompt 17 (renting a cottage under different names), fluff? If possible, could it be like newly wed/married for a couple months?

A/N - YAY! This is going to be a bit darker than the soft loves, but I PROMISE there is love here! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Hideaway

Summary - You and Oliver flee the evening that the Ministry of Magic fell to Voldemort

Warnings - mostly angst but a hint of fluff

“Okay, we’re in.  Come on, Oli,”

You moved out of the way for Oliver to make his way into the little cottage, shutting the door behind him and instantly putting up some charms over the door and along the walls of the house, trying to be as quick as you can as Oliver took out his own hand.

“Lumos,” He hummed, the tip of his wand illuminated as he scanned the little home you two were going to stay in for the next few months.  You were now moving into the kitchen, placing the protecting charms wherever you could that would give you ultimate protection and safety.  With your adrenaline going at an all-time high and your anxiety about kicking him, both you and Oliver did not want to waste any time.  

Not with a magical war breaking out in great Britain.

You Know Who declared war and was now causing chaos in the Wizarding World.  Of course, the talks of him coming to power were at a consistent revolving wheel, with plenty of witches and wizards leaving the country before it would get worse.  However, Oliver was more optimistic that things would die down, the rumors saying rumors and nothing worse.  You two were just married and going to Bill Weasley’s wedding at The Burrow.  You and Bill worked together at Gringotts, and Bill was good mates with Oliver.  With the whispers of war going on in the back of your head, Oliver thought it would be a good distraction for you two to go to the Wedding and see your friend get married to Fleur Delacor.  

Yet, things went south well quick.

Oliver Apparated you two out of there before you saw the first Death Eater arrive under the wedding tent, fearing that they would recognize the two of you and come after you.  Once you made it back to your apartment at Ottery St. Cathpole, you both packed your bags as quick as you could.  You had to be fast since you had no idea if Death Eaters were all over the place rounding up Muggleborn witches and wizards in the dead of night.  After using an expansion charm in your bag to take all your personal belongings and items that would give away your identity, you both abandoned your first home together as a couple and fled, one hour after the news of The Ministry of Magic fell.

Now you were in a cottage on the outskirts of a muggle town, thankfully using both of your middle names as your alias as you rented out the cottage from a muggle landlord.  She never assumed you were both a witch or wizard, and there were no signs of Death Eaters being around so that was a good sign.  She handed you over the keys after you paid for the cottage to rent out for 3 months. Although surprised, she was happy and gave you names of the local grocery stores and shops in case you needed anything throughout your stay.  

The dust was settled now, you and Oliver both sighing in relief as you lowered your wand and leaned against the wall.  Your enchantments were set, protection charms and defense jinks were all over the cottage and even a few yards out.  Looking over at Oliver, he rubbed his eyes as he lit a few candles to give some light to the small living room that was connected to the kitchen.  He looked worn and tired, the months of worrying and hoping for the best took a toll on him and his appearance. The youthfulness he had when he was a boy at Hogwarts was long gone, he was a young man newly married and worried for his new family’s life.

“Oli,” You cooed, walking over to him and wrapping him in your arms.  He melted instantly, his arms holding you close as you two were embracing one another on such a scary night.  The crickets were chirping outside the window, and the cool calm wind was brushing up against the walls of the little home.

“We’re safe, okay?”  You said in your hug, “We’ve both safe and we can take a breath.”

“That was too close,” Olive muttered as he clung to you, “What about the Weasleys?  And Harry, what about Harry…”

“He’ll be fine,” You reassured him as you two pulled away to stare at one another.  You saw the fear in his eyes, not just for you two being on the run, but for his friends too.  He knew Harry since Harry was a first year, and helped him as the Captain of the Quidditch team.  You’ve met Harry before right after you and Oliver graduated from Hogwarts, knowing him as The Boy Who Lived.  Yet Oliver saw him as his old teammate and classmate.  

“Let’s get some rest. We’re safe here for now,” You reassured Oliver as he nodded his head.  You both seemed out the bedroom, tucked on the second floor with a massive view of the road that lead away from the cottage and back onto the main road.  The whole area was quiet, showing no signs of a war breaking out and chaos ensuing.  Then again, you two were hiding amongst the muggles who had no inclination as to what was going on.  The bed itself was massive, barely fitting in the room as Oliver placed your bags on the ground while you turned down the bed.  

“We need to get in contact with my mum and da, make sure they’re alright,” Oliver mumbled as he rubbed his face again and shrugged off his cloak and jacket.  

“First thing in the morning,” You agreed as you were doing the same, shrugging off the dress you still had on from the wedding and slipping into pajamas that you hastily packed back at your apartment.   Once you two were now ready for bed, Oliver slipped in first and pull you in right after, engulfing you in his arms like he was protecting you.

Maybe he was, but you weren’t going to stop him.

“This isn’t how I pictured our first year of marriage,” he said in a groggy tone, though you tutted and kissed his chest.

“The first year of always hard, that’s what my mum told me when we got engaged.  Then again, they never had to deal with war breaking out, did they?” You asked, Oliver, holding you a bit tighter as you spoke again, “We’re going to take this one day at a time.  We got out when we did, and we’re going to be safe here.  Do you believe me?”

“Aye, I do.  I’ve always believed ya, and I’ll protect ya from anything,” Oliver vowed against your hair.  You knew he was telling you the truth, Oliver was more of a passionate partner when you were logical and level-headed.  Those moments you two had back in school when it was simple flirting and then dating each other your seventh year.  

He was teased by his teammates when you would visit him at practice or come to every game to support him, or when he was spotted studying with you under a massive tree outside the school walls.  He never cared, the bravado nature of being a quidditch captain that the other Houses had was not was Oliver wanted to be.  He had a soft love and affection for you, and that carried on after you two graduated from Hogwarts.  Getting married a few months before the summer came with only a handful of people as witnesses, you two did feel invincible.  

You still felt that now, even with the fear of being discovered and taken away in the dead of the night. 

It was your first summer together, hiding in a small cottage in some muggle town, waiting for the war to break out.  You should be afraid of it, scared to death of it, but that fear was slightly masked by your husband holding you close in his embrace. 

The sounds of the chirping crickets lulled you two to sleep, the hope of living tomorrow was still there in that small cottage.

The End

June Summer Prompts

Tagged - @a-lumos-in-the-nox

[aegor-bamfsteel]

Why do you think Ser Arlan of Pennytree never actually knighted Dunk?

 If Aegon the Unworthy had given his sword to his heir Daeron instead of his bastard Daemon, there might never have been a Blackfyre Rebellion, and Roger of Pennytree might be alive today. He would be a knight someplace, a truer knight than me. I would have ended on the gallows, or been sent off to the Night's Watch to walk the Wall until I died.

Dunk grabbed her braid and pulled her face to his. It was awkward with the crutch and the difference in their heights. He almost fell before he got his lips on hers. He kissed her hard. One of her hands went around his neck, and one around his back. He learned more about kissing in a moment than he had ever known from watching. But when they finally broke apart, he drew his dagger. "I know what I want to remember you by, m'lady." Egg was waiting for him at the gatehouse, mounted on a handsome new sorrel palfrey and holding Maester's lead. When Dunk trotted up to them on Thunder, the boy looked surprised. "She said she wanted to give you a new horse, ser." "Even highborn ladies don't get all they want," Dunk said, as they rode out across the drawbridge. "It wasn't a horse I wanted." The moat was so high it was threatening to overflow its banks. "I took something else to remember her by instead. A lock of that red hair." He reached under his cloak, brought out the braid, and smiled. —The Sworn Sword

Dunk had seen such sights before. "Back in King's Landing when I was a boy, I stole a head right off its spike once," he told Egg. Actually it had been Ferret who scampered up the wall to snatch the head, after Rafe and Pudding said he'd never dare, but when the guards came running he'd tossed it down, and Dunk was the one who'd caught it. "Some rebel lord or robber knight, it was. Or maybe just a common murderer. A head's a head. They all look the same after a few days on a spike." Him and his three friends had used the head to terrorize the girls of Flea Bottom. They'd chase them through the alleys and make them give the head a kiss before they'd let them go. That head got kissed a lot, as he recalled. There wasn't a girl in King's Landing who could run as fast as Rafe. Egg was better off not hearing that part, though. Ferret, Rafe, and Pudding. Little monsters, those three, and me the worst of all. His friends and he had kept the head until the flesh turned black and began to slough away. That took the fun out of chasing girls, so one night they burst into a pot shop and tossed what was left into the kettle.

Dunk closed his hand around the loose stone. It proved to be less loose than he had hoped. Before he could wrench it free, Ser Alyn lunged. Dunk twisted sideways, so the point of the blade sliced through the meat of his shield arm. And then the stone popped free. Dunk fed it to His Lordship and felt his teeth crack beneath the blow. "The well, is it?" He hit the lordling in the mouth again, then dropped the stone, seized Cockshaw by the wrist, and twisted until a bone snapped and the dagger clattered to the stones. "After you, m'lord." Sidestepping, Dunk yanked at the lordling's arm and planted a kick in the small of his back. Lord Alyn toppled headlong into the well. There was a splash. —The Mystery Knight

The father of the spurned girl, Lord Lyonel Baratheon of Storm's End—known as the Laughing Storm and famed for his prowess in battle—was not a man easily appeased when his pride was wounded. A short, bloody rebellion ensued, ending only when Ser Duncan of the Kingsguard defeated Lord Lyonel in single combat, and King Aegon gave his solemn word that his youngest daughter, Rhaelle, would wed Lord Lyonel's heir. To seal the bargain, Princess Rhaelle was sent to Storm's End to serve as Lord Lyonel's cupbearer and companion to his lady wife.  The invaders landed on Massey's Hook, south of Blackwater Bay, but few rallied to their banners. King Aegon V himself rode out to meet them, with his three sons by his side. In the Battle of Wendwater Bridge, the Blackfyres suffered a shattering defeat, and Daemon III was slain by the Kingsguard knight Ser Duncan the Tall…Afterward, the corpses of the Black Dragon's slain choked the Wendwater and sent it overflowing its banks. The royalists, in turn, lost fewer than a hundred men. —The World of Ice and Fire

…Well, I certainly wouldn’t have knighted that peer-pressure prone, self-pitying, violent hypocrite.

[madwomansapologist]

hello! could i please request a yandere!charles boyle x reader (could be an imagine or headcanons) where reader is a young (of-age) detective at the 99, and charles goes-full boyle and thinks she’s “the one,” and he wants to start a family with her and marry her and is just very obsessed with her. thank you so much! ❤️

Full Boyle!!!

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Charles Boyle | AO3

synopsis: Charles Boyle was so sure he just found his soulmate. She was The One. Without Jake there to stop him, he didn't even realized he was on Full Boyle.

warnings: yandere!Boyle. female!reader. age gap. Boyle is clingy.

note: i loved that idea! I'm glad you requested it!

• Boyle first encountered you when he fell over trying to eat a cake. I mean, first the cake fell, then he hit his head, and only then did Boyle fall. Being specific only makes it even more embarrassing. As he got to his feet, a pair of heels appeared in his field of vision. When he looked up, he saw you holding his cupcake with your free hand extended to help him.

• You had an embarrassed smile, but didn't laugh at him. You helped him to his feet, commenting that this always happens to you. When Boyle thanked you, you said you had enough cod fritters for two people. It was love at first sight.

• Within an hour of conversation, Boyle was sure he was going to marry you. He could even hear the wedding bells. You had just been promoted to detective, you were passionate about food and so confident. Boyle started making a mental list of which names were the cutest for kids. How many children would you like to have?

• Jake and Amy were enjoying their honeymoon, so there was no one to control him and stop him from daydreaming. Terry even tried, but Boyle didn't hear anything he said. Full Boyle? He's just madly in love as anyone who look at you should be.

• You have so much passion for your work, always trying to help everyone. You're more innocent than him. When he sees you fighting for everyone even when the odds are against you... Boyle remember of himself when he was new on NYPD. He loves to work on the same case as you, even tho Holt had make clear that he shouldn't be working with you. Charles can get distract and things may went south really fast.

• After 10 days of dating, Charles planned a special dinner. How much would take for him to rent the Statue of Liberty? Green is your color. It's something special, he can spend on it.

• Charles loves to join his favorite things in the world: you and food. When things got serious, after three weeks of dating, he decided to be responsible for your lunch. Everyday he makes something different for you, and enjoys to see your reactions. If you say it tastes divine, Boyle will feel so proud.

• Food play is a thing. Charles made sure that you know he loves when you stay at his house, and he have a special thing about cooking and baking for you. He loves when you sit on his lap, your arms around his neck, and he serves you. After every bite, he kisses you until you can't even breath. It gets to this point really fast.

• No one can make him believe you are wrong. People can say the saw you beating a old person, took a picture, and he would say: but didn't he had it coming? Charles will always defend you. Always.

• The only thing that stopped him from proposing to you was that Charles wanted to make it the most special ocasion of your life. He's planing every detail, every little thing, to make sure you will be the happiest woman ever. And because his bank thought someone had cloned his card.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[janaknandini-singh999]

Chapter 3:

"Oye, Shlokaa! Villu's saying that there are wayy more people here today than there were during the shaadi. I mean, of course the food is better and it just proves that we all attend like besharam to only eat! Anyway, I'll just greet them with Vilasini and apologize for not being present on the wedding. We'll back, k?" Aditi nudged Shlokaa's shoulder with two fingers, an old loving gesture of theirs, and then dragged Vilasini who was laughing with some other aunty.

"Sure." Shlokaa replied, in between chugging her mocktail. Her thoughts were still swirling over the last day's events when she had travelled the whole city like a tourist with Vilasini. For someone who has lived in one place her whole life, Shlokaa had to anxiously google all places of attraction just in case she left anything. But in the end - "screw it", she just visited two to three main places and then went with the flow carrying them wherever the wind went, while Vilasini asked random strangers their experiences and places they'd recommend.

"But.. we have google maps and reviews." Shlokaa said.

"Meri jaan, logo ke dil ki jo memories hoti hain woh internet pe nahi milti. I asked them their favourite places, not a five star hotel." Vilasini chuckled.

Shlokaa had smiled, so they really couldn't help but go with the flow - even though she couldn't quite understand what Vilasini said in the beginning. Now, Shlokaa' hindi was a little weak (the beginning of her childhood years she had spent abroad and now the westernized accent and language wasn't leaving her) and Vilasini's was surprisingly good for a South Indian.

Meri- what?

What had she called her?

She'd ask her someday.

Suddenly, Vilasini had excitedly pointed at something. "Would you LOOK at that beautiful sunset?" Shlokaa had turned her head ahead. It was definitely beautiful. She had spent years in this city, seen countless of these sunsets but it was as if Vilasini's presence just brightened and heightened every part of existence around. Everything was the same old thing yet so different. Like a rebirth.

Vilasini then had grabbed her hand and sprinted to an ice cream stall as they had watched the sunset while eating ice cream together.

"Heyo, cutie Buttercup." Shlokaa was knocked into reality from her reverie, coming back into the reception. She turned around. Only one person called her that.

"Manika." Shlokaa nodded slowly

Manika gestured her champagne glass into a raising a toast position, then advanced towards her friend, so smoothly as if gliding. She was wearing a sparkling black sari, looking as deviously enchanting as ever. Her deep green bangles clanking as she moved, her magnificent chandelier earrings swaying and nath glinting in the dark as mischievously as her, her siren eyes contrasting with her rosy face, her skinny figure contrasting with her wide hips. She was a sea of contradictions but it suited her well, guys would lay down their lives for her.

"What a pleasure to see the local baddie here!" Manika hooked her arms with Shlokaa's. "Thank God, I would've been bored to death here if it weren't for you, honey. After all, I can't mingle with all the oldies and kids and weirdos.. unlike that damn lesbian."

Shlokaa's heart stopped briefly. Her breathing shook. Her gaze toppled. A hot flower bloomed inside and instantly shed its petals on her heart but instead of petals landing softly, it was like mines dropping and exploding. A cold knife plunged right across her gut. She was blinded - all she could see was darkness.

"Who?" It was like Shlokaa wasn't even speaking, someone else in her body was.

"Vilasini. Ew. I don't even wanna take her name."

And Shlokaa ran. Ran forward with all her might in heavy, painful but very fast steps.

"That's right, darling. Show her what happens when anomalies mess up good ambience." Manika scoffed

But as soon as Shlokaa saw Vilasini, she froze. All her running but time was slowed down on seeing her. It was happening again. All over again. Vilasini, surprised but happy at seeing Shlokaa just smiled and waved her to come join. Vilasini, in her warm fire coloured salwar and chaand baaliya, standing next to Aditi in her silver sari.

They were all picture perfect

Until they weren't

Shlokaa dragged Vilasini in a corner, not too much away from the crowd but not too near either. "Kya hua, meri pyaari-" Vilasini started and suddenly Shlokaa slapped her, sharply right across her face. A small echo rung across the entire field for a moment. Some abruptly stopped talking and stared at them, some continued - not caring and mumbling "arey kya kare bacche toh ladte rehte hain." Vilasini almost tripped from the shock. Her automatic expression was to smile but she was finding it hard to do it right now, still she managed. "Shlokaa, is everythi-"

Another slap, a harder one. A punch probably, Vilasini couldn't tell because she blanked and fell down hard this time, tumbling on the grass as it sloped. She softly put a finger on her face, the corner of her mouth twitching as she realized her upper lip bleeding slightly, her salwar torn a little bit at its neck. Her eyes were swelling with tears too now, she had tried to withhold them but the pain was too much.

"Are you.. are you into girls?" She almost slapped the question on Vilasini as well, the heat rushing back into her because of.... God knows WHAT? She had just slapped this girl, thinking it'll kill the heat coz she thought it was caused by shame and anger but-!?

"Is this all--!?? how could you.. I... listen carefully, Shlokaa. I don't care for you in that manner. Better get that inside. your. head." Vilasini hissed.

Shlokaa had seen many angry people in her life, in fact she loved imagining and making up scenarios of situations and people in different emotions. But she found it impossible to picture Vilasini furious. And now that she was, it was.. something else entirely. Nothing objectively aggressive like she had observed of other people. This. It tugged something so much at her and she lost complete control of her senses, freezing again. She didn't know what to say. "So, you only care about girls you're.. into?"

"What. the. HELL is wrong with YOU!? Have you gone MAD??? Do you even know what you're blabbering on about?" Vilasini's voice cracked

And so did Shlokaa's heart, just the littlest bit. "Nice" she thought. She thought her heart must've been long destroyed by now but cracking meant it still existed. But she had been thinking so wrong all this time. Her insides jumped and screamed at her, she wanted to move fast, just do something. Anything. But the last time she did that, which was just now - she had ended up slapping someone.

"Villu-- VILASINI!!! ARE YOU OK?! OH GOD. WHAT HAPPENED??" Aditi came scrambling and helped Vilasini to her feet, who groaned just a bit at being lifted. She had fallen and shifted her weight on her elbow too it seemed because it hurt as she moved it.

"Nothing," Vilasini smiled.

She did it.

She finally managed to smile even in a situation like this one. Even though it was a little painful because of the cut on her lip.

Shlokaa had wanted her to fight back, hit her, get even, then forgive. Not smile like this. Because it hurt more than anything physical ever could.

Vilasini's voice quietly thundered

"Looks like your friend is done with my energy. She's used hers up showing me the city so her duty is done anyway. Maybe she just didn't like my face after all? Why else would you do this to an otherwise pretty one? But guess what, I didn't like her either. Tell her I don't want to see her stupid, smug face. ever. again."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vilasini sighed on the railway station bench late at night and checked her watch. She was leaving. And it was now or never. The reason she had stayed longer in this city was also ironically the reason she was doing this tonight. She hadn't even told Aditi about it. She'd tell as soon as she would reach home, she'd apologize, her cousin would understand. She could feel her eyes moisting again. She was so tired.

A hoot. She got up, dusted herself off and walked away, looking back one last time towards the city lights as she boarded. She couldn't get herself to walk inside right away for some reason so she stepped and lingered at the door. Suddenly, the train started moving so she headed inside.

"VILASINI!"

"Shlokaa?" She couldn't believe her ears

But here she was, running to her, running with the train. In the same outfit she had been wearing in the reception. Night sky deep blue lehenga and anklets twinkling with her sad eyes, kajal smudging everywhere.

"Have you been crying?" Vilasini whispered

"I should ask that to you. You look-"

"Not again. So, you really are a mad girl."

Vilasini couldn't believe any of the last two days that took place, everything happened so fast. But she ached so much, she wasn't even sure if she was paining because of herself or because of her. Why would she bother to for someone who had made a place in her heart so quickly but devastated it just as quickly?

"Please forgive me." Shlokaa pleaded, the city lights flashing in her eyes, running faster as the train did, almost tripping, Vilasini's heart skipped.

But then she did it. She didn't slap her or hit her. But she pushed her. Ever so gently that you couldn't even call it a push. Just a touch with her palm and a soft separation. Shlokaa lost her grip, tripped and went swirling onto the railway platform but regained balance soon.

She didn't even fall or face any injury. She heaved slowly, standing frozen on her spot as she saw the train slowly going out of view now.