𝑳☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Instagram

@ nats.archive 🔒

❣️liked by @ lando and 65 others

currently accepting thoughts and prayers for bread week.

i'm scared.

comments

@ Lando: you'll be okay baby

@ nats.archive: debatable

@ user: if paul makes u cry i'm throwing tomatoes

@ user: manifesting star baker part two

@ user: miffy believes in you

@ Lando: miffy and i both do @ user: shut up lando im her girlfriend not u @ lando what @ nats.archive ????

@ user: bread can't hurt you

@ nats.archive: we'll see about that

@ thegreatbritishbakeoff 🎥

bread week... 😬🍞

❤️ liked by 618,409 others

Nicole walks over while Natalia carefully places the final Miffy shaped loaf onto her display board. She smiles nervously, brushing a bit of flour off her sweater before looking at Nicole.

"I wanted to make something that reminded me of home, but also something cute," Natalia says quietly, looking down at the little Miffy loaves. "I've always loved Miffy. I thought bread week needed something that would make me smile."

Nicole laughs softly. "They are adorable. Were they as stressful as they look?"

Natalia lets out a tired laugh, rubbing the back of her neck.

"I think I underestimated how long bread wants to be left alone. I kept checking it because I was worried it wasn't doing anything... and then suddenly there wasn't enough time."

A few moments later, Paul and Prue arrive at her bench.

Paul gently presses into one of the loaves before tearing it open. He studies the crumb for a second, then looks back at Natalia.

"The shaping is lovely," he says, setting it back down carefully. "They're genuinely charming."

Natalia gives a hopeful smile.

"But..." Paul continues, "it's under-proofed."

Her smile fades.

"You can see how tight the crumb is. It simply needed longer."

Natalia nods immediately.

"I know."

"I think you panicked."

She lets out a tiny laugh.

"I definitely panicked."

Prue cuts into another loaf and smiles sympathetically.

"The flavour is beautiful. It's just a shame you ran out of time."

Natalia folds her hands together.

"I wish bread came with subtitles."

Nicole laughs from behind the camera while even Paul cracks a smile.

"I think every baker wishes that," Paul replies.

The clip ends with Natalia laughing at herself, even though her eyes are noticeably watery.

comments

@ user

i'm sorry but there was literally NOT enough time for that proof 😭

@ user

paul saying it needed another hour like... okay then GIVE THEM ANOTHER HOUR???

@ user

she admitted she panicked and still laughed at herself i'm rooting for her so bad

@ user

if natalia goes home over THIS i'm rioting

@ user

the miffy bread was adorable idc

caption ( I forgot to add it lol):

live footage of me after hearing the words "under proofed"

Instagram

@ f1gossip

❤️ liked by 102,418 others

✈️ lando norris spotted at nice airport during his week off.

fans think he's flying to england after natalia moreau's emotional bread week episode aired last night. neither of them have said anything, but the timing is... interesting.

comments

@ user: MAN IS ON A MISSION

@ user: boyfriend duties

@ user: if he's flying over just to hug her i'm gonna cry

@ user: he's smiling with fans this man knows exactly where he's going

@ user: i support this relationship more every week

@ styledbynat

❤️ liked by @ nats.archive, @ lando and 56,184 others

bread week outfits 🥖🤍

still mourning the bread but at least the outfits survived.

comments

@ user: the swan sweater 😭🤍

@ user: look two is EVERYTHING

@ user: okay but the hat???

@ user: she's literally pinterest in human form

@ user: i would've voted for the sweater to stay even if the bread didn't

@ Lando: i liked the bread.

@ nats.archive: thank you for your unbiased opinion and your punctation @ Lando: i am extremely unbiased actually and have well grammar @ user lando 😭

@ nats.archive 🤍

@ styledbynat: love you girl

taglist - link to join

Instagram

@ thegreatbritishbakeoff

❤️ liked by 387,291 others

biscuit week with natalia moreau 🐾🍊

Nicole stands beside Natalia's bench while Natalia carefully places tiny pink and white scarves around the necks of her dachshund biscuits.

"They're adorable. Where did the idea come from?" Nicole asks.

Natalia laughs softly.

"My dachshund. Her name is Mabel."

Nicole points toward one of the biscuits.

"And why Jaffa Cake flavored?"

Natalia immediately smiles.

"My boyfriend."

Nicole laughs.

"That's quite an answer."

"No, genuinely. I'm French. We don't really have Jaffa Cakes. He introduced me to them and I thought they were strange."

"Strange?"

"Chocolate. Orange. Sponge."

The crew starts laughing.

"I didn't trust it."

"And now?"

Natalia finishes decorating another biscuit before looking back up.

"Now I buy them myself."

Nicole gestures toward the tray.

"So these are basically a love letter?"

"To Mabel mostly."

"Poor boyfriend."

Natalia shrugs.

"He got the dog. The dog wins."

The clip ends with Natalia holding up one of the biscuits while laughing.

@ f1gossip

❤️ liked by 91,882 others

Lando Norris spotted with Mabel again 🐾

The internet has officially become obsessed with natalia moreau's dachshund. After Natalia revealed during biscuit week that her boyfriend gifted her Mabel, fans immediately connected the dots after old photos resurfaced of Lando walking the dog around Monaco. honestly, he looks completely confused every time. Mabel appears to be running the relationship at this point.

comments

@ user: mabel has custody of both of them

@ user: that dog pays taxes even in Monaco

@ user: why does he always look like she handed him the leash five seconds ago

@ user: mabel owns a formula one driver

@ user: i know who wears the pants and it's not lando

@ thegreatbritishbakeoff 🎥

insert clip

Natalia Moreau wins Star Baker ⭐

Natalia stands off to the side after winning star baker a producer asks who she'd like to call.

She doesn't even hesitate.

The phone rings twice.

"Hello?"

The second she hears his voice, she starts smiling.

"I won Star Baker."

There's a second of silence.

"No way."

"Yes way."

Another pause.

"That's my girl."

Natalia immediately starts laughing.

"By the way, they're recording."

"Okay?"

She laughs harder.

"That's all?"

"What am I supposed to do, pretend I don't know you?"

The camera crew starts laughing.

Lando sounds completely unfazed.

"Congratulations, baby."

Natalia hides her face behind the apron.

"You're impossible."

"And you're Star Baker."

The clip ends while she's still laughing.

FaceTime

FaceTime

(third image)

Natalia is back in her hotel room after a long day of filming. She's changed into an oversized sweatshirt, her hair pulled back messily, one leg tucked underneath her while she sits cross-legged on the bed. The room is quiet except for the television playing softly in the background.

Lando answers almost immediately.

He's sitting on the floor of his apartment in Monaco with Mabel sprawled across his lap like she owns the place.

Natalia laughs the second she sees them.

"There she is."

Lando looks down at the dog.

"She hasn't moved in twenty minutes."

Mabel doesn't even bother lifting her head.

Natalia smiles.

"I miss her."

"Funny. She doesn't miss you."

That gets a laugh.

"You're literally holding her."

"Against my will."

Mabel shifts slightly and stretches out even farther across his legs.

"See?" Natalia says. "She's comfortable."

"No. She's manipulative."

Natalia has to look away because she's trying not to laugh.

Lando points the camera down.

"Look at this. I can't move."

"That's your fault."

"How?"

"You bought her."

Lando groans dramatically.

"Worst financial decision I've ever made."

Natalia raises an eyebrow.

"Worse than the golf simulator?"

"Much worse."

"Interesting."

"At least the golf simulator likes me."

Natalia starts laughing.

Lando shakes his head.

"I've been replaced."

"By a dachshund."

"By a dachshund."

Natalia nods seriously.

"I think she's the favorite."

"That's actually rude."

"You'll survive."

"Will I?"

Mabel finally lifts her head when she hears Natalia's voice.

The two of them stare at her.

Then Lando immediately points at the screen.

"See. She knows it's you."

Natalia smiles.

"I know."

The call ends up lasting almost two hours until Lando has to go for a dinner. Neither of them wanting to hang up first.

instagram

@ nats.archive

❤️ liked by @ lando and 47 others

celebrating star baker with my stuffed animal Mabel and shitty cigarettes

comments

@ user: slide 2 is so real

@ user: slide 5 has me crying

@ lando: what if i wanna get cracked

@ user keep the flirting in private dude @ user : the pipe down meme is directed at exactly one person

@ Lando : love you more :*

@ user: embarrassing @ nats.archive : unfortunately

@ user: congratulations on star baker 🤍

nat: thank you 🤍

@ styledbynat

❤️ liked by nats.archive and 48,902 others

biscuit week outfits ☁️🧸🤍

look one for signature & technical

look two for showstopper

comments

@ user: yellow is SO her

@ user: the sweatshirt outfit wins

@ user: obsessed

@ user: she dresses like a pinterest board

@ user: star baker AND best dressed

@ nats.archive : 🤍

Guess who's back!!!!

taglist - link to join

@iamimanim @foreverln1 @fairyjinn @esw1012 @sassypostpatrol @aei-goes-zoom @chaosbunn1 @mayax2o07

Instagram

@ f1gossip

❤️ liked by 52,884 others

“Who is Natalia Moreau?

22, from Beaune, France Art graduate, previously studied in Monaco currently a contestant on The Great British Bake Off

Private account: @ nats.archive followed by lando norris”

Natalia Moreau is from Beaune, a small town in France, and studied art in Monaco before graduating earlier last year. She’s kept a low profile online, with a private instagram and no public presence until now, and is currently appearing as a contestant on The Great British Bake Off.

She was first linked to Lando Norris after being seen with him in Monaco, and while he has mentioned being in a relationship before, this is the first time any identity has been attached to it a possible girlfriend.

comments…

@ user: BEAUNE?? @ user: not them dropping everything at once omg @ user: she really had zero online presence before this @ user: he’s talked about having a gf before so… @ user: she’s so pretty but like normal pretty @ user: her acc is private for a reasonleave her ALONE

----

@ f1gossip

❤️ liked by 31,204 others

“first look at natalia moreau during cake week 🎂”

She’s already baking when the clip starts, measuring carefully, barely looking up.

“I’m from Beaune, in France,” she says.

She smooths the icing, focused.

“I studied art in Monaco… i just graduated last year.”

small pause.

“This cake is based on my childhood home,” he adds, adjusting the fondant.

“I wanted it to feel like where I grew up.”

She doesn’t look at the camera again, just keeps working.

comments…

@ user: HER VOICE IS SO QUIET @ user: i like her idc @ user: wait the cake is actually insane @ user: she’s so focused @ user: she doesn’t act like she’s on tv at all

----

@ lando

❤️ liked by @ oscarpiastri, @ nats.archive and 487,332 others

“p2 lets go babyyyy”

💬 comments…

@ user: P2 LETS GOOOO @ user: who is Lando without max and golf @ user: YOU WERE SO CLOSE @ user: okay but last pic??

@ user: are those baked goods @ user: those are NOT store bought

@ oscarpiastri: what is that @ lando: sweets @ oscarpiastri: from who @ lando none of your business @ oscarpiastri: share @ lando: no @ oscarpiastri: be serious @ lando: get your own

@ user: OSCAR 😭 @ user: he’s gatekeeping so hard @ user: nah that’s from her 100%

----

@ f1gossip

❤️ liked by 62,884 others

“lando in the paddock earlier”

He’s walking through with a small box, stopping when a kid asks for a signature. He crouches down, signs the hat, talking for a second.

The kid points at the box.

“What’s that?”

Lando glances down.

“Just sweets.”

pause.

“From my girl—”

He stops, quick smile.

“My friend.”

He stands up and walks off after saying bye.

comments…

@ user: MY GIRL—??? @ user: HE CAUGHT HIMSELF @ user: nah that was not an accident @ user: the smile after omg @ user: he’s so bad at hiding it

----

Messages

----

Instagram

@ styledbynat

❤️ liked by @ nats.archive 18,442 others

Natalia Moreau for cake week 🎂

comments…

@ user: both outfits together i love this @ user: day 1 skirt omg @ user: she dresses so simple but it looks so good @ user: I need that sweater @ user: i get the hype now

----

taglist - link to join

@iamimanim @foreverln1 @fairyjinn

instagram

Lando Norris added to their story !

Twitter / X

Instagram

@ f1gossip

🎥 “Lando Norris dropping off Natalia Moreau at the airport 👀 are they just friends or is this is so called girlfriend video sent from anon”

❣️liked by 20,304

The clip starts from across the drop off lane, filmed slightly zoomed in. It’s early morning, the lighting soft and grey, people moving in and out behind them.

Lando is standing next to his black Mclaren 765lt spider, driver door still open.

Natalia is in front of him, one hand resting on the handle of her suitcase, the other adjusting the sleeve of her hoodie. Her hair falls forward as she looks down for a second, then she pushes it back behind her ear.

The camera zooms in more.

She glances toward it for a second, not surprised, not bothered, just noticing before looking away again like it doesn’t matter.

Lando says something to her, quiet, and she shakes her head a little, smiling.

He steps closer, hand coming up to her arm, pulling her in without thinking.

She leans into him easily, like it’s normal.

His hand moves up to her face, brushing a piece of hair back before he leans down and presses a quick kiss to her forehead.

She lets out a small laugh, pushing lightly at his chest like she’s embarrassed but not trying to stop him.

People walk between them and the camera for a second, blocking the view.

When it clears again, she’s already turning, pulling her suitcase behind her toward the entrance.

She looks back once.

He’s still standing there, watching her.

----

comments...

@ user: HOLD ON they found her full name??? @ user: i’ve literally seen her in the background of clips before i KNEW it was the same girl @ user: the fact she looked at the camera and just… didn’t care?? i love her already @ user: this is the same girl he’s been hiding for YEARS i’m telling you @ user: i’m sorry but that forehead kiss was not casual that man is in love @ user: she seems so calm compared to him like he’s all over her and she’s just like 🙂 @ user: why do i feel like she hates the attention but not in a mean way just like… doesn’t care

---

Messages

----

Instagram

@ greatbritishbakeoff

❣️liked by @ nat.archive🔒, @ Lando and 8,279 others

Meet one of your new bakers 👩‍🍳

Natalia from Beaune, France

The new episode every Sunday with filming starting this week.

----

comments...

@ user: WAITTTTT THAT’S HER @ user: NATALIA MOREAU IS ON BAKE OFF??? @ user: OH MY GOD THIS JUST CONNECTED EVERYTHING @ user: THAT’S WHY HE SAID “SO PROUD OF YOU” @ user: she’s actually so pretty omg i didn’t expect that @ user: this makes it even cuter i can’t lie

Instagram

Lando Norris added to their story !

@ styledbynat

❣️liked by @ nats.archive🔒and 2038 others

natalia moreau airport look ✈️

💬 replies :

@ user: i’m sorry but not even one day after being landos rumored gf and she already has fan pages @ user: Nat in the likes @ user : the hoodie + hair combo is doing something to me idk @ user: wait does anyone know where the shoes are from @ user: the tumi bagggg @ user: she looks like a normal girl and i think that’s why people are so obsessed

----

A/n - I hope you like this its the first smau I've done in a long time make sure you join the taglist!!

link!

----

taglist

@iamimanim

Sunday starts slower than the rest of the week, the kind of morning that doesn’t pull her out of bed right away, and Isabelle lets herself stay there for a few extra minutes, staring at the ceiling while the sounds of Bea moving around the kitchen drift through the apartment. There’s a cabinet closing, something clinking softly, music playing low enough that it blends into everything else, and Juno’s voice cutting in every few seconds like she’s arguing just to argue. Isabelle doesn’t move at first, just listens to it, the familiarity of it settling around her, warm and messy and lived in, before finally pushing herself up with a quiet exhale and reaching for her phone.

She checks the time, then her messages, then nothing important, just the same routine she always falls into without thinking, and by the time she steps out of her room, Bea is leaning against the counter with a mug in her hand and Juno is sitting on the counter like she wasn’t told a hundred times not to. “You look suspicious,” Juno says immediately, narrowing her eyes at her. “I just woke up,” Isabelle replies, grabbing a piece of toast without asking. “Exactly,” Bea adds, like that proves something, and Isabelle just shakes her head, slipping her shoes on by the door. “I have work,” she says. “You always say that like it’s a cover,” Juno mutters, and Isabelle doesn’t respond, just leaves before they can keep going, the door closing behind her with a soft click that feels quieter than it should.

She decides to walk like she's been doing majority of the week, mostly because she wants to, the weather too nice to ignore, and she keeps her pace slow, hands tucked into the sleeves of her hoodie, letting the city feel softer than usual. It doesn’t feel like she’s going to work, not really, just like she’s going somewhere she’s already gotten used to, somewhere she doesn’t have to think too hard about. By the time she reaches the building, she doesn’t hesitate at all, just goes inside, already knowing what’s going to happen when the door opens.

Leo is there immediately, like always, running toward her with zero hesitation, paws slipping slightly against the floor as he reaches her, and she laughs under her breath as she crouches down to meet him, her hands catching him before he can fully throw himself into her. “Hi, baby,” she says, softer without thinking, scratching behind his ears while he leans into her like he’s been waiting all morning. “You’re actually insane,” she adds quietly, but she doesn’t move away right away, just stays there for a second longer than necessary, letting him settle before she stands.

He follows her instantly, brushing against her legs as she moves further inside, and she glances down at him with a small smile. “You’re not even pretending to be normal anymore,” she says, and he stays right there like that’s exactly what he’s supposed to do.

The walk comes first like it always does, but it feels easier now, less like something she has to remember and more like something she just does, grabbing his leash and heading out without thinking twice. The streets are quieter than they were yesterday, the air warmer, and she lets him lead more than usual, not pulling him along or rushing him past things he wants to stop at. When someone stops to pet him, she just stands there patiently, one hand loosely holding the leash while the other rests at her side. “He’s adorable,” they say, smiling up at her, and she nods slightly. “I know,” she answers, and this time she doesn’t even think about it now; Leo got a lot of compliments where ever she wen t he was practically a celebrity.

When they get back, she doesn’t go inside right away, stepping out onto the balcony instead, letting Leo wander ahead of her while she drops into one of the chairs, stretching her legs out in front of her. The sun hits her immediately, warm and steady, and she tilts her head back slightly, closing her eyes for a second like she’s letting it settle into her. Leo circles once before settling beside her, pressing against her leg like he always ends up, and she glances down at him, brushing her fingers lightly over his back. “You’re going to start thinking this is your house,” she murmurs. He doesn’t move.

She stays there longer than she means to, long enough that it starts to feel like something she would do even if she didn’t have a reason to be there, and when she finally stands, she does it slowly, like she’s pulling herself out of it instead of just getting up. “Okay,” she says quietly, mostly to herself, “we should probably do something,” and Leo is already getting up, following her inside without hesitation.

----

The idea to cook comes naturally, not something she plans, just something she does when she opens the fridge and sees everything she put there, ingredients that make sense together, things she knows how to use. She pulls a few out without thinking too much about it, setting them on the counter while Leo watches her like he’s trying to figure out what she’s doing. “This is still not for him,” she says out loud, glancing down at him, and he just sits there, completely unconvinced.

She puts something on in the background, flipping through until she lands on Mamma Mia, the opening filling the apartment in a way that immediately makes it feel different, less quiet, less untouched, and she laughs quietly at herself as she pours a glass of wine, not measuring it, just enough to feel like something extra. “This is embarrassing,” she mutters under her breath, taking a small sip before setting it down and getting back to what she was doing.

She moves around the kitchen easily, like she’s done it there before, even if she hasn’t, cutting things, stirring, cleaning as she goes so nothing gets too messy, and the apartment changes slowly around her, the smell of food settling into the space, the music filling in the gaps where silence used to sit. Leo stays close the entire time, moving whenever she moves, sitting whenever she stops, like he’s decided this is where he’s supposed to be now.

By the time everything is done, she plates it without thinking too much about it, setting it down at the table before grabbing her glass again and sitting, letting herself relax into it like it’s normal, like this is something she does all the time. She doesn’t question it, doesn’t think too hard about it, just eats, half paying attention to the movie playing in the background.

She’s halfway through when she hears the door.

At first, she doesn’t react, just pauses slightly, her fork hovering for a second as she frowns, looking toward the hallway like she’s misheard something, but then it opens, and she knows she didn’t.

Charles steps inside, and she just looks at him, surprised in a way she doesn’t hide, her hand still resting lightly against the table. “I thought you were coming back tomorrow,” she says, and he nods slightly, setting his things down as his eyes move around the apartment. “I changed my flight,” he replies, “I got in earlier than expected,” and she nods like that makes sense, even though it doesn’t change the fact that he’s here now, standing in a space that doesn’t look like it did when he left.

Leo runs to him then, tail going, but it’s quick, shorter than usual, and Isabelle notices it immediately, even if she pretends she doesn’t, watching as Charles bends down to greet him before straightening again, his attention shifting back to the room. His eyes move slowly, taking everything in, the flowers on the counter, the food on the table, the TV playing 'Mamma Mia' in the background, the way it feels different.

“You’ve been busy,” he says, and she shrugs slightly, setting her fork down. “Just keeping him entertained,” she answers, like it’s nothing, like she hasn’t done more than that, and he nods, but his gaze flicks back to the table. “Did you make dinner?” he asks, and she hesitates for just a second before answering. “Yeah,” she says, then adds, “you can eat if you want,” like it’s casual, like it doesn’t matter.

He looks at her for a second, then nods. “Okay,” he says, pulling out the chair across from her, and it feels strange for a second, sitting there with him like this, not because it’s awkward but because it isn’t, because it feels too easy.

She pours him a glass of wine without asking, sliding it toward him before picking up her own again, and he takes a sip after a second, glancing down at the plate. “This is good,” he says, and she shrugs, looking down at her own. “It’s just pasta,” she replies, but he shakes his head slightly. “It’s still good,” he says, and she nods, not arguing with that.

They talk without really trying to, small things at first, easy things, and it slowly turns into more, not deeper exactly, just longer, more comfortable, and at some point Leo moves from Charles’ side to hers, settling near her chair like he’s chosen, and she notices it immediately, trying not to react. Charles notices too. “You’ve ruined him,” he says lightly, and she shakes her head. “I didn’t do anything,” she replies. “He’s supposed to like me more,” he adds, and she smiles slightly. “He still does,” she says, but Leo doesn’t move, and Charles lets out a quiet laugh. “I’m not convinced,” he says.

The wine makes everything softer, not enough to blur anything, just enough that she feels warmer, more relaxed, and she finds herself talking without thinking too much, laughing a little easier, leaning back slightly in her chair as the movie continues in the background, neither of them really watching it anymore. At one point she glances at the screen and laughs quietly, shaking her head. “This movie is actually ridiculous,” she says, and he looks at it for a second before glancing back at her. “You chose it,” he points out. “It was already on,” she replies, even though it wasn’t, and he smiles slightly like he knows that.

When she finally stands, it hits her that she walked there, and she pauses for a second, glancing toward the door. “I walked,” she says, like she’s just realizing it, and he looks at her immediately. “You’re not walking back,” he says, and she shakes her head slightly. “I’ll be fine,” she replies, but he just looks at her. “You won’t,” he says simply, and she hesitates before nodding. “Okay,” she agrees.

The drive is quieter, the city moving past them in soft lights, and she leans her head slightly against the window, watching instead of talking, the warmth from the wine still sitting lightly in her chest. After a minute she says, “Thank you,” and he glances at her briefly. “For dinner,” he says, and she shakes her head. “For the ride,” she corrects, and he nods. “Of course.”

When he pulls up outside her building, she unbuckles slowly, grabbing her bag before pausing for a second, her hand resting on the door. “I’ll see you next week,” she says, and he nods once. “next week,” he repeats, and she steps out, closing the door gently behind her.

Her apartment is loud when she walks in, Bea talking, Juno laughing, something playing too loudly, and they both look up immediately. “You smell like wine,” Bea says. “You look like something happened,” Juno adds, and Isabelle shakes her head, walking past them. “Nothing happened,” she says, and neither of them believe her, but she doesn’t stop.

Later, she sits on her bed in the dark, her phone in her hand, the night still sitting with her in a way she doesn’t know what to do with, and she tells herself it was just dinner, just a normal night, nothing more than that, but when she finally lays back and stares at the ceiling, she knows it didn’t feel like nothing.

----

@ isa.rose

❣️liked by 🔒Juno.jpg, 🔒Ramen.bea and 49 others

i swear i was just doing my job (with the help of some red wine)

view comments...

@ juno.jpg 🔒 you’re lying

@ ramen.bea 🔒 why did I see a black Ferrari outside our apartment

↪️ @ isa.rose 🔒 shut up

@ juno.jpg 🔒 did you feed him or his owner

↪️ @ isa.rose 🔒 STOP

----

a/n - longer chapter with a more paragraph format I might not post for two days I'm going to plan out the gbbo Lando series idea.

Taglist link!

@irda12 @greantii

Friday starts the same way everything else does, with noise from the kitchen and Bea talking to herself like she is in the middle of a conversation no one else can hear. Isabelle keeps her eyes closed for a few extra seconds, listening to it, the sound of cabinets opening and closing, something playing quietly from someone’s phone, the kind of background noise that makes their apartment feel full without trying.

She knows she should get up, but she doesn’t move right away, just lays there staring at the ceiling until Juno’s voice cuts through the hallway.

“Are you dead or just lazy?”

“Both,” Isabelle answers, her voice muffled into her pillow.

“Get up. You have a job,” Bea adds.

“I know,” she says, finally pushing herself up, grabbing her phone off her nightstand and checking the time. She isn’t late. She never is.

By the time she leaves, the apartment looks like it always does. Shoes by the door, something left on the counter, Bea halfway dressed and Juno still complaining about something that doesn’t matter. It feels normal. It feels like hers.

The drive is easy. She doesn’t need directions anymore, just follows the same turns, the same streets, barely thinking about it. It feels smaller now, like the distance has shortened overnight even though it hasn’t.

When she gets there, the door barely has time to open before Leo is already there.

“Hi, baby,” she says automatically, crouching down as he runs straight into her, tail moving so fast it looks like he might tip over. He presses into her hands like he has been waiting, like he knew exactly when she would get there, and she laughs quietly, scratching behind his ears.

“You’re dramatic,” she murmurs, even though she doesn’t move away.

He stays close when she stands, following her into the apartment like he has already decided she belongs there.

The walk comes first again. It is becoming routine without her thinking about it, grabbing his leash, stepping outside, letting him lead more than she did before. The streets are busier than yesterday, people moving around them without paying attention, but Leo still manages to get it anyway.

“He’s adorable,” someone says, stopping for a second.

“I know,” she replies, and this time she notices it, the way she says it so easily.

She still doesn’t correct it.

They walk longer than they need to. She lets him stop whenever he wants, sniffing at corners like they matter, looking up at her every so often like he is checking if she is still there.

The shop is not planned. She just sees it, slows down, then stops completely.

Leo looks up at her.

“We’re going in,” she says, pushing the door open.

It is warm inside, the kind of warmth that sticks to you, and it smells like sugar and something fresh. She moves through slowly, not rushing, picking things up one at a time. Almond flour. Sugar. Eggs. Things she has not made in a while but still remembers how to.

“This is a bad idea,” she mutters, but she keeps going anyway.

Leo sits near her feet, watching everything like it is important.

She notices the flowers on the way to the register. Soft colors, nothing too bright, the kind that just sit somewhere quietly. She pauses for a second, just enough to realize she is pausing, then grabs them anyway and adds them to the basket.

“We are not doing this for him,” she says quietly.

Leo does not respond.

Back at the apartment, it still looks the same as yesterday, clean and untouched, everything in the right place. But it does not feel as sharp anymore, not after she has already been here, not after she knows where everything is.

She sets the flowers down first, finding a glass and adjusting them slightly until they look right, then immediately looks away like it does not matter. She puts music on without thinking, something quiet, something that fills the space just enough.

Leo follows her everywhere.

From the counter to the sink to the stove, sitting down whenever she stops, getting up whenever she moves again.

“Do not judge me,” she says, glancing down at him. “I have not made these in forever.”

It goes exactly how she expected. A little messy, a little uneven, flour on the counter that she wipes up too late. She fixes things without thinking, falling into it slowly until it starts to feel familiar again. The apartment smells different as she goes, warmer, softer, something that actually feels like someone lives there.

She notices it.

She ignores it.

Her phone buzzes on the counter.

She wipes her hands quickly before picking it up, expecting nothing, but pauses when she sees the unknown number. She stares at it for a second before opening it anyway.

She hesitates for a second. It feels like more than texting. It feels like something she does not need to think about too much.

“Okay,” she says quietly, tapping accept.

His face appears a second later. It is not perfect or posed. It looks like he is in the middle of something, moving slightly, background shifting behind him.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” she answers.

He asks for Leo almost immediately, and she turns the camera down, letting him see as Leo steps closer, ears lifting at the sound of his voice.

“Your fan,” she says lightly.

Leo tilts his head, staring at the phone like he is trying to understand it, tail moving again.

“He misses you,” she adds, softer this time.

“I miss him too,” he says, and she nods like that is enough, like she does not need to say anything else.

His eyes move slightly, taking in the kitchen, the background, the things she did not try to hide. The flowers. The mess. The fact that it looks different.

“You’ve been busy,” he says.

“Just keeping him entertained,” she replies.

“Thank you.”

“It’s my job.”

He nods like he expected that answer.

“I’m a bit busy today,” he says, “but I wanted to see him.”

She nods again.

“Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

He says goodbye to Leo, she turns the camera again, and Leo just stares at the screen like he always does. They both laugh quietly before the call ends.

The apartment feels quieter after.

Not empty.

Just quieter.

She finishes everything slowly, cleaning up, wiping the counter, leaving it better than she found it without thinking too hard about it. The flowers sit on the counter, the smell of sugar still in the air, Leo following her from room to room like he has all day.

By the time she grabs her bag, everything feels settled.

She crouches down in front of him one last time, smoothing her hand over his back as he leans into her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says.

He tilts his head again.

She stands up before she can think too much about it.

The walk that night is slower. The air is cooler, the streets quieter, lights reflecting off windows, everything softer than it was earlier. Leo stays closer to her this time, not pulling ahead as much, walking beside her like he is tired.

“You’re tired,” she tells him.

He ignores her.

Back inside, she does not leave right away. She grabs a blanket from the couch and sits down, Leo climbing up next to her without hesitation like he has been waiting for it all day. She puts something on the TV without really paying attention to what it is, letting it play quietly while she leans back, her hand resting against him without thinking.

“You’re not supposed to be up here,” she murmurs.

He stays anyway.

She stays longer than she means to.

Eventually, she turns everything off, standing up slowly and putting things back where they were, like it resets something, like it makes it easier to leave. She grabs her bag, crouches down one last time, and presses a quick kiss to the top of his head before standing again.

“Tomorrow,” she says softly.

He watches her walk to the door.

The apartment goes quiet behind her when it closes.

Her apartment is louder when she gets back. Bea is talking, Juno is laughing, something playing too loudly in the background, and she steps into it easily, like she always does, dropping her bag and kicking her shoes off.

“You look suspicious,” Juno says immediately.

“I’m not,” Isabelle replies.

“You are,” Bea adds.

“I literally just worked.”

They look at her for a second longer, like they are waiting for something, but she does not give them anything.

Later, she is in her room, lights off, phone next to her as she scrolls without really paying attention. It was normal. Just a job. Just a dog. Just a conversation.

Her phone lights up with a notification.

She flips it over without opening it.

“Stop,” she mutters quietly.

It does not mean anything.

----

@ isa.rose 🔒

❣️liked by 🔒Juno.jpg, 🔒Ramen.bea and 49 others

baking in someone else’s kitchen is way more stressful than it should be

view comments...

@ juno.jpg 🔒 did you poison him

↪️ @ isa.rose 🔒 its for ME???

@ ramen.bea 🔒 why are you baking for a man

↪️ @ isa.rose 🔒 im not

↪️ @ juno.jpg 🔒 and to think you won't even bake for us

@ juno.jpg 🔒 also why are there flowers

↪️ @ isabelle.rose 🔒 dont start

----

a/n - make sure to join taglist google forms are just easier to manage and if you have ideas feel free to live them on the form or comments!!!

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@irda12 @greantii

The apartment still feels too quiet when she walks in.

It’s not different from Tuesday, not really, but now she knows what it’s like with someone else in it even briefly and the silence feels more noticeable because of that. The door shuts softly behind her, the sound echoing just enough to make the space feel bigger than it should, too clean, too still, like everything is waiting for something that isn’t there.

“Hi, baby,” she says automatically, dropping her bag by the door.

Leo is already running toward her.

He comes from somewhere deeper in the apartment, nails tapping fast against the floor, ears bouncing slightly as he makes it to her like he’s been waiting all morning, like she’s late even though she isn’t. He doesn’t slow down, just presses into her legs the second he reaches her, tail moving so fast his whole body shifts with it, and she laughs before she can stop herself, crouching down to catch him as he tries to climb halfway up her.

“Okay-hi,” she murmurs, softer now, her hands steadying him as he licks her chin like that’s the only appropriate response. “Missed me that much?”

He stays close when she stands, brushing against her every time she moves like he’s making sure she doesn’t disappear again, and she lets him, glancing around the apartment once as she heads toward the kitchen, already noticing the same thing she did before—how clean it is, how everything is exactly where it should be, how nothing feels like it’s actually used.

“You’re going to hate me,” she tells him lightly, opening the fridge.

It’s worse than she remembered.

Not dramatically empty just wrong. Water, drinks, things that look expensive but don’t actually count as food. Nothing you could make anything with, nothing that feels like someone stands here at the end of the day and cooks for themselves.

She just stares at it for a second, one hand resting against the door, then exhales softly.

“Okay,” she says, glancing down at Leo. “We’re fixing this.”

—

The grocery store is exactly what she expected and somehow still worse, everything lined up too neatly, too perfect, like no one actually shops here, just… curates. The lighting makes everything look unreal, like she’s stepped into somewhere she’s not supposed to be, and Leo sits in the cart like he belongs more than she does, one paw hanging lazily over the edge, head turning every time someone passes like he’s waiting to be admired.

“He’s adorable,” someone says as they walk by.

“I know,” she answers easily, scratching under his chin without thinking, like it’s already routine, like this is normal.

She doesn’t look at the prices after the first few things, just grabs what makes sense actual food, ingredients, things she knows how to cook, things that feel real instead of decorative and by the time she’s checking out, Leo is half asleep in the cart like the entire experience has exhausted him.

“Helpful,” she mutters, pushing him toward the exit.

----

By the time they’re back, the apartment doesn’t feel as sharp around the edges.

Not warm yet. Not hers. But not as untouched.

She sets the bags down, Leo immediately weaving between her legs again, and opens the windows without really thinking about it, just enough to let air move through, just enough to make it feel like something is happening here now.

“Okay,” she says, tying her hair back. “We’re fixing this.”

Her phone buzzes before she can overthink anything, and she answers it on instinct, propping it up against the counter as she starts unpacking groceries.

Bea’s face appears first. “Show me the dog.”

“No hello?” Isabelle says, already reaching for something from the bag.

“No. Show me.”

She angles the camera down, and right on cue, Leo flops onto his back dramatically, paws up, completely relaxed like he knows he’s being watched, like this is a performance.

There’s a pause.

“Oh my god,” Juno says, leaning into frame. “He’s a person.”

“He’s better than most people,” Bea adds.

“I’m right here,” Isabelle mutters, but she’s smiling, turning back to the counter as she starts setting things out, the sound of it filling the kitchen in a way that immediately makes it feel less staged, less quiet.

“His fridge was empty,” she says, glancing back at the phone. “Like actually empty. I had to go to the most intimidating grocery store of my life.”

“With his money?” Bea asks immediately.

“With his money.”

Bea goes quiet for a second. “I would’ve blacked out.”

“She probably did,” Juno says. “She just looks calm.”

“I am calm,” Isabelle replies, rinsing something in the sink. “I was very normal about it.”

“You’re never normal,” Bea says.

“And why,” Juno cuts in, squinting, “does his apartment look like that.”

“Like what.”

“Like if pinterest and a bank account had a baby.”

Isabelle huffs out a small laugh, shaking her head as she starts cooking, moving around the kitchen like she’s done this before, even if she hasn’t here, the motions easy, familiar.

“It’s just… nice,” she says.

“She paused,” Bea says immediately.

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I didn’t,” she repeats, but she’s still smiling, and they both notice.

“Yeah,” Juno says. “She’s gone.”

“I’m literally cooking,” Isabelle says.

“For a man,” Bea adds.

“For the dog.”

“That’s not what it sounds like.”

She doesn’t hang up.

She just keeps moving.

They stay on FaceTime while she cooks, while she plates everything, while she leans against the counter and eats a few bites standing up, Leo sitting at her feet like he’s waiting for something, like he’s part of it. They keep talking over each other, Bea asking questions Isabelle refuses to answer properly, Juno pointing things out she pretends not to notice, the conversation slipping from teasing to normal to something softer without her realizing.

She carries the phone with her when she moves again, setting it down in the laundry room as she starts sorting through things, the sound of the washer starting up mixing with their voices.

“You’re doing his laundry?” Bea says immediately.

“It was there,” Isabelle shrugs.

“That’s intimate,” Juno adds.

“It’s laundry.”

“Your literally holding his boxers,” Bea says.

“It’s fabric,” Isabelle replies dropping the boxers into the washer, but she’s smiling again, shaking her head as she closes the machine and leans back against the counter, Leo settling nearby like he’s decided this is where they are now.

“You like him,” Juno says.

“I don’t.”

“You paused.”

“That means nothing.”

“It means everything.”

“I’m hanging up,” Isabelle says.

“You’re not,” Bea replies.

She doesn’t.

----

By the time she does, it’s quieter again, but not the same kind of quiet.

There’s something left behind now voices, movement, the feeling of something actually happening in the space and she finishes what she started without thinking too hard about it, wiping things down, folding what needs to be folded, leaving everything just a little softer than she found it.

Leo follows her the entire time.

From room to room, step for step, like he’s making sure she doesn’t disappear again, like he’s already decided she belongs here even if she hasn’t.

“Relax,” she tells him quietly at one point, glancing down. “I’m not leaving yet.”

He stays anyway.

By the time she’s done, the apartment feels different.

Not hers.

But not empty.

There’s a faint smell of food in the air, a window cracked open, a softness that wasn’t there before, small things that shouldn’t matter but do.

Leo is curled up on the couch, tucked into himself, completely settled.

She stands there for a second, looking at him.

Then grabs her bag.

“Okay,” she murmurs, crouching down one last time. “You’re set.”

He lifts his head slightly as she scratches behind his ears.

“Don’t miss me too much.”

He will.

----

@ isa.rose 🔒

❣️liked by 🔒Juno.jpg, 🔒Ramen.bea and 49 others

who knew rich peoples fridges were so empty

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@ juno.jpg 🔒 no literally where was the FOOD

@ ramen.bea 🔒 did you financially recover from that grocery trip

↪️ @ isa.rose 🔒 no ❤️

@ juno.jpg 🔒 leo looks more comfortable than you

↪️ @ ramen.bea 🔒 he owns the place

↪️ @ isa.rose 🔒 im just staff apparently

----

a/n - make sure to join taglist google forms are just easier to manage and if you have ideas feel free to live them on the form or comments!!!

link!

@ paws.monaco 📍 monaco

❣️liked by 🔒Juno.jpg, 🔒Ramen.bea and 🔒isa.rose

new sitter availability for Isabelle

thursday - monday openings for the next two months walks, overnights, full care

email or dm to book

view comments...

@ user1 isabelle was incredible with bella 🤍

@ user2 my dog literally waits by the door for her still

@ juno.jpg she’s lying she never rests

@ paws.monaco limited slots available!

@ user3 just sent an inquiry!!

@ ramen.bea don’t book her thursday nights she’s mine

↪️@ isa.rose be serious

----

Isabelle only sees the post because Juno sends it to their group chat with three laughing emojis and a “look who’s pretending she’s free,” and she rolls her eyes even though she’s smiling, sitting cross legged on her bed with her laptop open in front of her and half finished notes from a lecture she’s been ignoring for the last twenty minutes. The light in her room is soft and warm, late afternoon slipping through the window and catching on the edges of her sketchbook and the vase of slightly overgrown roses she bought earlier in the week, the petals just starting to curl at the edges but still pretty enough that she hasn’t thrown them out yet. She likes things like that, things that look lived in and slightly imperfect, which is probably why her room always feels full even when it’s quiet, music playing softly from her speaker and clothes draped over the back of her chair like she’ll come back to them later.

Her phone buzzes again, this time not from Bea or Juno but from her boss, and she reaches for it without thinking, unlocking it with one hand while the other absentmindedly flips a page in her notebook. The message is short, but it immediately pulls her attention away from everything else.

----

----

Her boss sends the address almost immediately after, and she copies it into her maps before even closing the chat, already moving off her bed and grabbing the nearest oversized shirt from her chair to throw on over what she’s wearing. She doesn’t overthink it, because she never really does with this job, it’s always just been dogs and routines and making sure someone else’s space feels taken care of while they’re gone, something she’s weirdly good at without trying too hard. She slips her shoes on by the door, grabs her bag, and does a quick glance in the mirror more out of habit than anything else before heading out, the hallway of their apartment echoing slightly behind her as she pulls the door shut.

The drive is short but familiar, Monaco always feeling smaller than it actually is when she’s weaving through streets she’s driven a hundred times before, sunlight hitting the buildings at that soft angle that makes everything look warmer than it is. She keeps one hand loosely on the wheel, the other resting near the gear shift, her playlist shifting into something slower as she follows the directions, barely thinking about where she’s going beyond the next turn and the next light. It’s just another booking, another dog, another routine to learn and fit herself into for a few days at a time, and she’s good at that, good at slipping into spaces without disrupting them.

When she pulls up to the building, she notices immediately that it’s nicer than most places she’s worked, not in a flashy way but in that quiet, expensive way where everything looks clean and intentional, the kind of place where nothing is out of place because someone pays attention to those details. She parks, grabs her bag, and takes a second before getting out, glancing up at the windows like she’s trying to picture what it looks like inside, then shakes it off and heads toward the entrance.

The door opens before she can knock twice, and the first thing she notices isn’t the person standing there but the dog pushing past him almost instantly, small and long with soft golden fur that catches the light, ears bouncing slightly as he practically launches himself toward her. Isabelle laughs without thinking, crouching down as Leo reaches her, his tiny body pressing into her hands like he’s already decided she belongs there, and she immediately softens, one hand coming up to steady him while the other scratches gently behind his ears.

“Hi, baby,” she murmurs, her voice instinctively softer, the way it always is with dogs, and Leo responds like he understands, tail wagging fast enough that his whole body moves with it.

“He doesn’t usually do that,” the man says from above her, and she looks up properly for the first time.

It takes a second, not because she doesn’t recognize him, but because she doesn’t react the way people usually do when they do.

“Oh,” she says simply, then, “hi.”

Charles nods, watching the interaction more than anything else, his attention clearly on Leo, who is still very focused on Isabelle.

“He likes you,” he adds, like it’s something worth noting.

“I like him too,” she replies easily, standing up but not moving away, Leo staying close to her leg like he’s decided that’s where he belongs now.

Inside, the apartment is exactly what she expected from the outside clean, minimal, everything in its place but it feels quieter than it should, like a space that’s used more than it’s lived in. Isabelle notices that immediately, not in a judgmental way, just in the way she notices things in general, the absence of small details that usually make a place feel warm, no clutter, no soft signs of someone lingering in a room longer than necessary.

Charles walks her through things without much hesitation, explaining Leo’s routine in a way that’s straightforward and efficient, pointing out where everything is in the kitchen, where his food is kept, how often he eats, what he’s used to. Isabelle listens carefully, nodding as she follows along, occasionally glancing down at Leo who hasn’t strayed far from her side since she walked in, like he’s already decided she’s part of his routine even if she hasn’t started yet.

“He’s pretty easy,” Charles says, leaning slightly against the counter as he watches her take it all in. “Walks, food, just… being around.”

She nods again, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she looks around one more time, taking in the layout, the light, the way the space feels.

“And I’m gone most of the time,” he continues, almost like an afterthought. “So you’ll be here alone with him.”

“Okay,” she says, her tone steady, because that part doesn’t bother her, she’s used to it.

He hands her a printed schedule, and she takes it, scanning over it quickly, noting the days, the timing, the small details that matter more than people think they do.

“Starts Thursday,” he says.

“I’ll be here,” she replies.

There’s a small pause after that, not awkward exactly, just quiet, the kind of pause that happens when everything that needs to be said has been said but neither of them moves right away.

“You can treat it like your space,” he adds, his tone casual but deliberate enough that she notices.

She nods, but doesn’t respond to that part, because she never really does. It’s not her space, and she knows that, even if people say things like that to make it easier.

When she leaves, Leo follows her all the way to the door again, standing there like he expects her to come back immediately, and she crouches down one more time, smoothing her hand over his back gently.

“I’ll see you Thursday,” she tells him quietly, and he tilts his head like he understands, like that means something to him already.

The drive back feels the same as before, but quieter somehow, her mind not exactly busy but not completely empty either, the image of the apartment lingering just enough that she notices it, the stillness of it, the way it felt like something was missing without being obvious about it.

Her phone buzzes the second she gets back into her building, and she already knows who it is before she even looks.

----

----

Before she can argue, the front door opens and both of them walk in like they weren’t just texting her from outside, Juno already halfway down the hallway and Bea heading straight for her closet.

“get up,” Bea says.

“I just sat down.”

“and now you’re getting back up.”

Juno drops onto her bed, staring at her dramatically. “I need to see your face in real life,” she says. “you’re acting suspicious.”

“I’m not acting anything.”

“You paused,” Juno says.

“That means nothing.”

“It means everything.”

Getting ready turns into chaos immediately, clothes everywhere, Bea stealing things without asking, Juno changing outfits twice and still complaining. Isabelle ends up standing there while Bea fixes something on her and Juno just watches her like she’s waiting for her to admit something.

“You like him,” Juno says.

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“You paused.”

“I’m leaving.”

They’re laughing before they even make it down the street, Bea linking her arm through Isabelle’s while Juno walks slightly ahead, turning around every five seconds just to keep talking.

“tell me one detail,” Bea says.

“No.”

“hair color.”

“No.”

“accent.”

“Bea.”

Juno leans in. “you’re smiling.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m literally not.”

Bea gasps. “she is.”

“I hate you both.”

----

@ isa.rose 🔒

❣️liked by 🔒Juno.jpg, 🔒Ramen.bea and 46 others

never let me drink a vodka red bull and eat pizza again or I will be bent over the toilet for 5 hours 😭

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@ juno.jpg🔒 at least you looked sexy doing it

@ Ramen.bea🔒 I stand by everything I did

↪️ @ Isa.rose 🔒

Even throwing the good vodka ?

----

Isabelle locks her phone, shaking her head as Bea pulls her forward and Juno starts talking about something completely different.

And still-

Thursday sits quietly in the back of her mind.

----

a/n - omg I love this sm already also make sure to join taglist google forms are just easier to manage and if you have ideas feel free to live them on the form or comments!!!

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୨ৎ Part One — A new client, a small dog, and a Tuesday that was supposed to be normal. Isabelle doesn’t realize it yet, but this is the beginning of something that won’t stay just a job.

୨ৎ Part Two — Thursday isn’t supposed to mean anything. Isabelle tells herself she’s just doing her job, but the apartment feels too empty, and she hates empty spaces. One grocery trip, a full kitchen, and a FaceTime call later, she’s already doing more than she should and still pretending it doesn’t matter.

୨ৎ Part Three — The next day starts normally, but Isabelle finds herself doing more than she needs to. A grocery trip turns into flowers and baking, and a simple text turns into something harder to ignore.

୨ৎ Part Four — Sunday feels easy, almost routine, until it isn’t. Isabelle settles into the day like she belongs there, but when Charles comes home earlier than expected, the space she’s been quietly filling suddenly isn’t just hers anymore.

୨ৎ Part Five — x