#*$70 after the other expenses and i have money left in savings like i said. this is not dire i'm just tired

[serkonans]

I not getting paid until monday. maybe tuesday

[chrisbitchtree]

Feels Like Home

For Harringrove Flip It Reverse It - Day 2

Prompt - NSFW - Stripping

1k - G

***

Finally, after years of saving every penny they could, passing on nights out at the bar in favour of sharing a cheap sixpack of beer at home, only making the expensive trip back to Hawkins once a year, and working two jobs each, Steve as a receptionist at a dental office and a barista, and Billy a mechanic and bartender, they’d saved enough for their own little house near the ocean.

Saying house might be putting it too kindly, though. It was really more of a shack. Sturdy but tiny, one bedroom, a tiny kitchen and dining room combo, and a living room making up the whole place, sand dusted on every floor, the scent of sea salt filling the air. And horrific, 70s era wallpaper covering nearly every wall. It wasn’t ideal, but it was within their budget and allowed for easy access to surfing and swimming, so they gladly snatched it up.

***

They’d put in a lot of work over the past few months, refinishing the floors, replacing the rotting boards on the deck, and replacing the ancient, pea green toilet and tub, and now it was time for the final task: stripping the wallpaper so they could paint the walls in a rainbow of colours, from sky blue to sunshine yellow.

They’d rented a contraption that promised to steam the wallpaper off almost instantly, but neither had any clue how to use it, and it wasn’t going well. Billy’s curls were a wild mess because Steve kept accidentally aiming the steam at him, the few times they could magically get any steam to come out at all, and Steve’s face was bright red from a mixture of embarrassment and frustration from not being able to figure out this seemingly simple task, even after the clerk at the paint shop had given him a demo.

Billy had unfortunately had to miss out on the demo due to work. He was always the handier of the two, but he had to rely on Steve’s memory and an instruction manual that left a lot to be desired in terms of detailed descriptions of the steps to get him through. They had always made a concerted effort to not raise their voices at each other, but they were not successful that day.

“How can you not remember, Steve? You said the guy showed you how to do it, like three times! Is it not this button?”

“Which button?” Steve shouted.

This button! This button, Steve!” He jammed his thick finger into one of the three buttons on top. “The button I keep showing you! Is this the button?”

“That’s not the button you were pressing before!” Steve roared, dropping the nozzle and storming out of the room. He stepped into the bathroom, the only room with a lock, and sat on the lip of the tub, fuming.

It was just like Billy to pin this on Steve when he knew that Steve had a terrible memory. He should have gone to the paint shop instead of Steve, but he just had to work an extra couple hours of overtime, even though he’d promised Steve he’d slow down with it now that they’d bought the house.

They had both agreed that they’d cut back on their hours so they could enjoy being here together, but only Steve was keeping that promise so far, and it felt sometimes like he was doing all the heavy lifting on the new house himself.

Billy banged loudly on the door. “Steve, can you please come out here?” he called. “So we can talk about this like adults?”

“No,” Steve replied. “I need a minute to myself to calm down.”

“Ok,” Billy sighed. “Good. Take a minute to get your head out of your ass, then we can talk.”

Steve huffed an incredulous laugh. “Get my head out of my ass? How about you get your head out of your ass? If you hadn’t insisted on taking on that extra overtime, you could have been the one to go to the paint shop for the tutorial, and we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“Well, I’m so sorry for trying to make some extra cash, Steve! Sue me for not wanting us to be poor!”

Steve stood, flicking the lock, and flinging the door open, standing face to face with Billy. “Money won’t buy us time together, Billy! It won’t buy us memories and happiness.”

It was Billy’s turn for his face to go red. “I know that asshole, but it can buy us a future. It can buy us safety. It can buy us financial security like I never had growing up. I want to take care of you, Steve. I love you so fucking much, and I want to give you the world. Is that so bad?” Tears were now leaking from the corners of his eyes, and Steve brought a hand up, trying to wipe them away.

Shit. He’d never thought of it like that before. He knew that he took for granted sometimes that he’d have his parents’ money to fall back on if things really got rough, so it had never truly occurred to him what money might mean to Billy.

He grabbed a tissue from the back of the toilet and handed it to Billy before pulling him to his chest and holding Billy tight in his arms. He rocked them softly, back and forth, shushing Billy as the tears continued to flow.

“Don’t cry, baby. I’m sorry. You’re just trying to take care of us. I know that now. I’m sorry that I didn’t see it before but thank you. You’re always looking out for me. For us. How about we just take another minute to calm down, then I’ll treat you to an ice cream cone, then we can go back to the paint shop to have them explain it again. Ok?”

Billy nodded, letting out a wet whimper.

Steve continued to hold him in his arms, running a soothing hand down his back. Fuck, he was lucky to have Billy, have him care so much. He made a silent promise to himself to let Billy know more often just how much he appreciated his love.

[lgcxminji]

banana division audition

minji becomes yoo haewon, intern at the banana division

dig... place... cover... water... repeat. the task was simple. and yet, haewon found herself often missing steps. she would forget to dig and just place the seeds on the dirt, or she would move on before realizing she’d forgotten to water, or she would forget to even plant the banana seeds to begin with. but she just kept going on her merry way, humming the most recent fabula release as she worked towards her goal.

however, out of the corner of her eye, she could see some co-workers talking. wanting to know what they were saying, she decided to finish planting her last seeds (which she forgot to cover, simply watering the hole she’d left), and moved over to the other side of the planting area. they were saying something about... her supervisor? she couldn’t help but listen in.

they were talking about her wealth. she couldn’t blame them, honestly. this was a workplace, after all, and everything was about money. they were trying to figure out if she came from generational wealth, or if her wealth had mostly come from her current work. at first, haewon ignored. she’d been taught that sometimes, it’s best to just let conversations between two people happen than to butt in with her perspective. however, after a few moments of this, she just couldn’t help but chime in.

“oh, the supervisor? i mean, you can tell what kind of wealth she probably has just by looking at her outfits that she’s mostly new money. she is consistently wearing heels made of a pretty cheap vinyl sold regularly at discount stores. she may be changing her purse often, but i was able to notice that each of them are in the mid tier designer range, so she’s most likely buying those bags from the outlets rather than from the source itself. and also, she knows how to dress herself, and she knows how to follow trends, but she doesn’t really know the best style for her body type, so it makes her look a lot shorter than she actually is. if she were all old money, she would surely not be shopping consciously, since she’d have no concept of savings. however, her not choosing quality over quantity also makes me think that she isn’t all new money. she has a bit of old money as well, because if she were all new money she’d be more likely to save up for an expensive high-quality bag and nice shoes than mid-quality bags and settling for cheaply made shoes.” she said this matter-of-factly, her tone sounding very much like the professors she’d had at college.

silence. haewon just smiles, before turning back to her work, having clearly stunned them with her expertise in the matter. proud of herself, she starts her dysfunctional planting again, happy to have not only answered their concerns, but to have finally gotten them quiet again. with this newfound focus, she was able to go from a 70% mistake rate to a 55% mistake rate, which the intern saw as a win enough. besides, what’s learning to be in the business world without making mistakes?

[scarlettriot]

Along for the Ride PT 1

Pairing: KirishimaxF!Reader

Summary: A drunken mistake had you marking the little Plus One box to your snobby cousin's wedding. Kirishima told you not to worry, if you couldn't find a date, he'd go with you. When the wedding gets moved up, there's absolutely no time to find a date and you're now about to be traveling to America with Kirishima on a private jet no less, dreading having him meet your rude and impossibly arrogant family.

Contains: Kirishima and Reader both come from very well-off families. Plus-Sized Reader. Fluff. Hurt/Comfort.

Warnings: Kinda smutty for a minute. Minors DNI. Drunken Sex. TW: Manipulative Family Relationships. TW: Body Image Issues

A/N: This story has been rolling around in my head for a while now. I might rewrite this and repost. Or I might just post the whole thing soon. I dunno yet. It does get smuttier.

Word Count: 4,974

"What's up with Y/N?"

Eijiro stepped out of the locker room with a towel slung over his shoulder and made his way into the kitchenette where Mina was chugging a bottle of water before getting back to her patrol. His eyes were trained on their mutual friend out on the patio, pacing.

You had your phone pressed to your ear, the high neck of your hero costume unzipped to your collarbone and he noticed your gloves discarded on a chair.

"No clue." Mina shrugged. "She got back from patrol and she noticed a bunch of missed calls from her mom. She's been out there, flailing on the phone for the last fifteen minutes now."

The three of you had met in your second year at UA when you transferred into their class and were quickly accepted by their little squad of friends. You were a bit quiet at first but quickly found comfort in the group. Eijiro had grown especially close to you when you both interned with Fat Gum.

Late nights traveling on the train back to school, a few close calls while helping patrol, and days spent playing cards while you both healed up in the hospital left plenty of time for Eijiro to get to know you better than most. It was how he knew you had a pretty bad relationship with your family, why you hated returning home for the holidays almost as much as you hated any and all forms of tomatoes.

He considered going out there just to see if there was anything he could do but before he had the chance, you were sliding the glass door open. "Oh, good, you're back." He offered you a bottle of water for your throat that he assumed was sore after that argument. "I- um- can I borrow you for a second? Alone?"

Mina snorted a laugh. "If you guys wanna bang it out on the counter you can just say so. I gotta go to work anyways."

Eijiro threw the towel at her as she left the room leaving you two alone. "What's goin' on?"

You hoisted yourself up on the countertop while he leaned against the fridge. "You remember my cousin's wedding that's happening this winter?"

He nodded. He vividly remembered the both of you getting waste a few weeks ago when you were filling out the RSVP and accidentally marking 'plus one'. Then you ran around trying to find White Out but he'd told you if you didn't find a date or have a significant other by the time of the wedding, he'd just go with you.

You argued that your family was bat shit crazy, had more money than they could spend in their lifetime and because of that, they were among some of the rudest people you knew, and you didn't want Eijiro or anyone else around that.

The thing was, Eijiro already knew that and was still okay with going. He came from money too. A lot of it. His family was just more welcoming than yours, the wealth never really going to their heads. But, he reminded you that he'd ran into enough people like those in your family that he knew how to handle them. You finally agreed to let him accompany you, leaving the plus one box checked but the name line blank.

"Well, my cousin just found out that surprise, she's pregnant! And, obviously, she can't have a wedding while seven months along so they've decided to move the wedding up to this weekend."

He nearly choked on his own spit. "This weekend? As in four days from now?"

"Yup! Saturday at 4 in the evening. Oh! No one's supposed to know she's pregnant either. So, I'm just supposed to compliment her on how flattering her dress looks, how thin she is," Your hands strangled the water bottle between them, "And I have to find something flattering to my figure because my mother has seen me in my hero outfit and she's so glad I wear a mask because if anyone knew her daughter ran around looking like I do, well, it'd ruin her!"

You massaged your temples circling back to the actual point, "Anyways, I just wanted to bitch for a sec and let you know you're off the hook since four days is just a little short notice and I told her my plus one wouldn't be able to get the time off that fast."

He pushed off the fridge. "Well, wait, hang on! I'm not letting you go in alone to deal with them! Hell no! You need backup!" You looked almost taken aback by his abruptness, "Yeah. I can work this out. Is the wedding at the same place it was supposed to be or has it moved?"

"No, it's still that fancy lodge in California. I was planning on leaving Friday morning and then coming back either Sunday night or Monday morning since my mother insists I go to their brunch the following day. But, Eijiro, I already have this weekend off..."

"Denki owes me a favor or twelve. He's supposed to be off this weekend too, I'll just see if he can cover me."

"And if he can't?"

"Then..." He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, "Y/N, am I feeling warm to you? I think I might be starting a fever!"

You folded your arms, shaking your head, "Thought you said lying isn't manly."

"Technically, correct. But, what would be real unmanly is for me to let you deal with your family's bullshit all alone." You watched him closely, "To be honest, I'm sure we could just explain you had a family thing come up and asked me to come along for moral support. I don't really think anyone would think twice about it. Hell, you took a few days off to console me when my turtle died suddenly!"

"Eiji, you refused to eat."

"And you brought me my favorite dumplings! Same thing!"

You might have shaken your head at him but your arms opened wide. The telltale sign you wanted affection. He walked forward, consuming you in a tight hug. Your arms latched around his neck, face buried in the hollow of his throat. "You're the best."

"I just do what I can."

>>><<<

You should have canceled. Instead of Eijiro faking sick to get out of work, you should have faked it with your mother so you didn't have to go in the first place. You crumpled to the floor of your bedroom in pure frustration amidst the twenty or so outfits and dozen pairs of shoes you'd thrown out of your closet trying to find something that your mother would deem appropriate.

It wasn't your fault you had a fuller figure. You worked out, ate right, not to mention your job kept you very active, and yet your, hips, ass, and breasts were by no means subtle.

Your mother had also insisted on the dress being floor-length and modern, "Do try not wearing all black. It's a wedding, not a funeral. And, get your hair looking natural, please." And, just like that, 70% of your wardrobe was out the window!

"It's open!" You called from the floor when the doorbell rang.

"You really should lock this." Mina tutted, walking through the door with a bag full of takeout.

"I do. At night."

"Honey, it's 9 PM."

"Night like bedtime."

Mina just rolled her eyes and walked into your tiny kitchen. "I see the dress hunt is going well."

"I actually figured it out!" You got off the floor, careful not to step on a heel as you made your way to the pink haired woman, "I'm just gonna go in my birthday suit. I figured, my mother made my body technically therefore she can't disapprove of it. Because, you know, she's never done anything wrong in her life!"

Your best friend snorted out a laugh and passed you the take-out container stuffed full of stir fry. "you're a wonderful person, you know that?" You loved the fact Mina didn't even have to ask what you wanted.

"If you'd just move closer to work then you could pick it up yourself and I wouldn't have to bring it to you."

"Too expensive." You declared after a mouthful. "You pay almost twice as much as I do per month and I just don't see the point. I have damn near the same amount of space you do for half the cost!"

You adored your small one-bedroom apartment. It was perfect. Right above a bakery that you visited each morning after your run and a little balcony that provided you with the most stunning view of the sunset.

"You and Kiri, I swear." Mina just shook her head and curled up with her food on the loveseat. "I thought he'd end up with the biggest house out of us all the moment we started making that real Pro money. You've seen his parent's house. It's massive! You could get lost in that place!"

Eijiro's place was barely bigger than your own. He lived in the same condo he had since you'd graduated UA, claiming it was perfect for him in each and every way. But, you knew that he donated a sizable amount of his paycheck every month to charities, the same as you. With savings to spare, neither of you saw the point in hoarding it and therefore the small condo was all he could afford with what he actually kept.

"Just don't understand how a guy that big can live in such a tiny little space. At least with you, it's you know, physically feasible."

Eijiro's bedroom was barely large enough to fit the king-sized bed the man needed to sleep comfortably and even then, his feet were dangerously close to dangling off the bed. And, as if the man's ears were burning, your cell phone went off under a pile of discarded shoes.

Shark-E: Figured out your dress situation? If not, I'm just gonna pack like ten different ties and hope for the best.

You: Yeah! I totally did! I'm just gonna wear this birthday suit I got and call it a night.

You chuckled at your own joke all over again. Watching the grey ellipses appear and then vanish, appear and vanish again. After a third time, you took pity on the man.

You: Joking, Ei. I still don't have it figured out but Mina's over so, hopefully, she can help.

Shark-E: Gonna give me a damn heart attack! Seriously, I wouldn't put it past you just to see the look on your mom's face. Tell Mina hi and good luck to you. I vote the dress from the Hero Gala two years ago.

You: Hi from Mina. Can't. Too much boobs.

Shark-E: You take that back right now! There is NEVER such a thing as too much boobs!

You chuckled to yourself, putting your phone down, and then finished off the last of your delicious dinner, thinking about the dress Eijiro mentioned.

You wondered if maybe there was a way you could make the thing work but it was so very low cut. So much tape had been used to make sure no slips happened but damn was it worth it! The beaded bodice with the sparkling long sleeves, gods, how you loved that dress.

"I'm inclined to agree with our shark boy. You're busty, who gives a damn. You looked hot as hell in that dress."

"My mother, that's who. As much as I'd like to not give a flying fuck what she thinks, for some dumb reason, I do. On top of her telling me that the amount of cleavage I would show would be vastly inappropriate for a wedding, she'd also say the way it hugs my hips makes them look too fat."

Mina rolled her eyes. "She's such a piece of work." Pushing herself up, she held her arms out to you, wiggling little pink fingers for you to take. "Come on then. Let's get you sorted."

"What about that one you wore to the charity art thingy with Kyoka last winter? The one with the silver top."

"Silver is too close to white." You called out from within your closet.

"What! Not true!"

"You know that. I know that. Every person with two brain cells knows that, which is why most of my family does not know that."

"Fine..." She whined and started sifting through the opposite end of your closet. "Oh, what about this?" Mina waved about the blue and green plaid skirt that made up your uniform from your middle school days when you lived in America. "Please try this on. I'm begging!"

You were pretty sure it wouldn't even go over your thighs anymore.

"It's got a better chance of fitting you!"

Mina threw it at you anyway. Slipping off the sweats you wore, somehow, someway, you were able to tug it on AND get it zipped, barely. It no longer covered your ass but you still enjoyed the way it swished around when you wiggled your hips.

"You could be fulfilling so many people's fantasies right now." Mina mused.

You pulled the skirt off and sweats back on, throwing the former back at her. "Yeah, you can take it and go fulfill Hanta's fantasies if you like. Not like I've got anyone to impress." You pulled down a dress you bought on sale a year ago but Mina was quick to dismiss it.

Too puffy, she said and then held up one that was from Momo. "I needed to get it shortened and I don't have time for that now."

"Wait..." She hummed and dropped the Momo dress. "I know what it should be!"

Mina hurried through the closet, grumbling about not finding it. "Just tell me which dress and I can tell you where it's at."

"It's that one you got for grad night and then you got sick and couldn't go!"

"Mina, Mina I can't wear that! That's actual vintage, not like, made-to-look-vintage!"

"But it's so elegant and has that off-the-shoulder sleeve thing. The wedding is at a damn sky lodge! It'll look so pretty in the snow! Ah! Found it!"

She yanked up the long, elegant gown from the garment bag you'd never removed it from. There wasn't a single wrinkle in the burgundy fabric. It looked just as beautiful as the day you found it in that second-hand store, on a mannequin with gaudy stage jewels that you just had to buy so the look was complete.

You ran the back of your hand over the velvety fabric, soft to the touch. "It'll be too tight now. If I was the same size I was at graduation-"

"Bullshit!" Mina cut you off with a dismissive hand, "You've got hips now. We aren't 18 anymore! It's not like it's some clubbing dress. And I bet no one would say a damn thing about your figure if they knew how easily you could crush them with those thighs!"

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Without quirks, you gave every single one of your classmates a run for their money in hand to hand. Most were fairly easy to beat. You could usually take down Eijiro in about five or six minutes and Katsuki in half the time. Funny enough, it was Ochaco that gave you the hardest time.

"I'll consider it. But help me find something else just in case."

>>><<<

It was another two hours before you finally agreed on an a-line, empire waist green and gold number that had been the bridesmaid's dresses for Tetsutetsu's wedding. Mina thought they were a crime the first time they had to wear them, she had no idea what you were thinking.

That's why the moment you were preoccupied with trying to find yet another dress for the Sunday brunch, Mina pulled out her phone.

You: DO NOT, under any circumstances, allow Y/N to wear the green dress. She's bringing two because she can't decide. Red is the winner!

Jaws: Aw, come on. If she likes it, let her wear whatever she's comfortable in. She'll be under enough stress already.

You: Kirishima, it's the dress from Tetsu's wedding. The one that looks sparkly baby food.

It took him a second to respond.

Jaws: Alright. Understood. I thought you guys looked good but damn, she hated that dress.

You: We all did.

Mina looked at the message chain again and couldn't help but asked, "Are we just gonna ignore the fact that you and Eiji are flying all the way to America, last minute, to attend a wedding together, even though you're not together?"

"We've flown to the states before."

"For work!" She sat up eagerly. "This is different, Y/N! This is a date and not just a, like, casual date but a wedding date!"

You poked your head out of the closet. "No, it isn't. This is a friend helping another friend who stupidly mismarked an RSVP." You corrected very plainly but Mina wasn't one to give up so easily.

She whined, dragging out your name, "You guys have been doing this thing for ages. Why do you have to be so stubborn about it all!"

"What's that supposed to mean!"

Mina started ticking off points on her fingers. "He was the first person you opened up to at UA. You saved his life when he was busy saving Katsuki's life second year. You spent all that time interning together, became sidekicks together. Went to America together for three whole months, ALONE, and you honestly expect me to think there's nothing between the two of you!"

The truth of it all was simple really; 17 year old you had a massive crush on Eijiro Kirishima. He was sweet, always listening to you, providing comfort when you needed it, and always encouraging you to push your limits. He was bright and honest, a little slow in the head from time to time but that made him all the more endearing.

He was also head over heels in love with Katsuki Bakugo.

It was why you never made a move. Never spoke a word of the feelings you harbored. You didn't dare to cross that line with him because you couldn't ever hold a candle to the explosive man.

In the three years Eijiro and Katsuki spent together, your brain finally started registering Eijiro as just a friend, nothing more, and certainly nothing less. You thought your heart had followed suit but it was becoming more and more apparent that wasn't the case. Because the night he showed up at your door, tears in his ruby eyes, every lock you put on your heart broke open.

The same way you couldn't hold a candle to Katsuki, Eijiro couldn't hold one to Izuku. You knew exactly what he was feeling even if you never intended to tell him. Too overcome with fear. If Katsuki came back... that'd be it. Eijiro would go back and you wouldn't even blame him!

Still, the redhead consumed a decent chunk of your heart though, you couldn't deny that after the three months you spent together in America, gathering intel on a smuggling ring, living in the same apartment. The groggy, 'good mornings' when his voice was still scratchy with sleep, hair falling in his eyes. The late nights bandaging wounds and killing cheap bottles of wine while watching terrible American reality shows.

It was those bottles of wine that did you in on your second to last night in America. Supplying you with courage and draining your sense of reason, allowing you to crawl onto his lap, into his arms. You could still remember the pressure of his lips on yours, those sharp teeth gently dragging along your lower lip.

Scared hands tracing the curve of your ass before taking handfuls to squeeze. The laugh that came from you was unlike anything you heard before, something so genuine that you couldn't reproduce.

How it felt when he lifted you up and took you to his bed, laying you down taking his time removing your clothes, and watching with awe as you pulled away his own. The way he looked over top of you, his hair a curtain of red around you just before you closed your eyes, gasping while he filled you.

You also remembered the guilt that crept into your head during the wee hours of the morning, the doubt that was louder than the snores coming from behind you.

It made you slip from under his massive arm, gather up your clothes from his floor, you tucked the blanket around him, and pressed a kiss to his temple before padding out of the room.

You told yourself you'd talk to him about it if he brought it up, but he never did. Not the next morning, or night, not on the plane ride back home, nor anytime since. It was a memory you'd hold close to your heart, one you wouldn't let slip away or share.

"There's nothing there, Mina. We're just good friends is all." You lied with a smile on your face, something that had become surprisingly easy to do.

If only you knew that Mina saw right through it. That Mina already knew the truth of it all.

>>><<<

It was nearly one in the morning when your phone rang. The goofy picture of Eijiro with face half painted at a festival a few years back never failed to make you grin.

"It's a little late." You answered by way of greeting.

"Don't pretend like you were anywhere close to sleeping, you little night owl."

Chuckling at the nickname that had followed you since high school, "What's up, Eiji?"

"I was going over flights. You said in the office that you wanted to leave on Friday?"

"Yeah. I have patrol tomorrow and I didn't find any flights after 6 PM so, Friday is the earliest."

He was quiet on the other line for a moment. "Yeah, you don't have patrol tomorrow, or work at all for that matter."

You sat up a bit straighter in bed. "Um, yes I do."

"No, you don't. I called Mina, asked her if you'd mind taking that shift for you and, since she knows what's happening, she agreed the extra day for travel would do you some good. So, she's covering you tomorrow then you're off work until next Wednesday. As for me, thanks to all that overtime I put in when Denki, Kyoka, and Hitoshi got married, the three of them are splitting up my days so I have until Wednesday too."

Eijiro sounded impossibly proud on the other line, you could almost see the smirk on his face. "You've got this all planned out, don't you?"

"And a bag nearly packed. Just need you to tell me what ties to bring."

"Gold, burgundy, and black."

"Thought your mom said no black for you?"

"She said no black for the wedding. She said nothing about black at the brunch!"

You couldn't wait to put on the tea-length dress that had been a favorite for years. Satin with a lacy top and, best of all, pockets.

He let out a rumbling laugh that fell off into comfortable silence as you laid back in your bed, lights still on, the room still a mess. You tapped the speaker icon and laid the phone on the pillow right beside your head, listing to the various sounds of Eijiro moving around.

A door creaking open, a hanger clattering against another, and a zipper. "And just like that, I'm all set."

"Don't forget your passport or hero license."

"I have one in my wallet and the other in my backpack."

You swiped up on your iPad, off Netflix, and going to google, lazily searching through flights. "So, did you find any good flights since you've clearly been looking?"

Another chuckle, "Eijiro, why are you laughing?" More stifled giggles had you sitting up in bed again. "Just tell me a site you were on. They're just flights, what's so funny?"

"There isn't a site."

"You said you were checking flights."

"And I was... on my family's jet."

"Eiji! No! No, no, no! That is supposed to be for their business or hero things! My stupid cousin's wedding is neither of those things!"

"Relax, Y/N. My family has multiple and they don't have any business trips planned right now anyways. I already cleared it with my mom. Seriously, I just mention your name and she's likely to let me have it for a whole year at least. Plus Todoroki's is back up in working order so the agency is covered too."

Damn, why'd he have to be so good at planning from time to time! You'd completely forgotten about the second jet his family had. Always opting for the larger one since the few missions they needed it for required them to bring fifty or so heroes along.

"Besides, if we fly private, we can land at an airstrip closer to the venue and won't need to drive four hours on top of a ten-hour flight."

"Alright, okay, thank you but, let me take care of the rental car, please. It's the least you can let me do."

"Deal. I just have one more question for ya."

"What's that?"

"Wanna leave tonight?"

You nearly dropped your damn iPad in shock. "Eijiro! What the fuck has gotten into you! It's the middle of the night!"

"I'm excited!" He boomed, "I haven't had a vacation in months!"

"I hate to break this to you, buddy, but this isn't going to be a vacation. You really shouldn't get your hopes up. This isn't going to be a good time with laughs and fun memories... my family, they just, they aren't those kinds of people."

"But we are." He stated matter-of-factly. "If they want to have sticks up their asses then let them! We'll have a good time on our own, laugh and make fun memories! So, what do you say, Y/N? I can be at your place in fifteen. I just gotta put shoes on and grab my keys..."

"Wait, hang on. Are you forgetting that we need someone to, oh, I dunno, FLY THE PLANE! Actually, we need two someone's, can't forget about a co-pilot!"

He hummed happily and you rubbed your temples. "You, you have a pilot and a co, don't you, Eiji?"

"Mhm! There is a company we use. Two can be at the hanger in an hour and every hour after that. I just have to make the call and get the flight plan approved which will be done before I even get to your house."

There was literally no reason to say no. You had mostly everything packed, nothing you needed to get from the store, all you had to do was put on pants and pack up your hygiene bag and you were ready too. Maybe getting there quicker and getting the whole thing over with would be better than staying home dwelling on everything.

"Better put your shoes on."

The glee in his voice, that was enough to make this whole thing worth it, "I'll see you soon."

>>><<<

Eijiro reached into the backseat and plopped a bag down on your lap the very moment you were buckled in. "Had to make a pit stop." He explained.

"It's after two in the morning, where'd you have to..."

"Just open the bag and don't complain."

You found it filled to the brim with all your favorite snacks.

"I'm sure the plane will have a bunch of snacks we can raid but I know for a fact they don't have these." He held up a pack of cookies and creme flavored pocky that had been his favorite for as long as you'd known him, quickly followed by your favorite flavor too. You also found a massive bag of gummy worms and jolly ranchers.

"So, what you're telling me is our teeth are going to rot by the time we land? Not that I'm complaining."

You ripped open the bag of ranchers knowing that was what he'd go for first and sure enough his hand dove inside just as he pulled away from the curb. You could hear his dangerously sharp teeth biting through the rock candy like it was nothing while you still rolled one around your mouth.

Eijiro asked you about the resort you'd be going to, wondering if you'd been there before or what other stuff you guys could do when you weren't dealing with your family. "I figured we could fly back Monday night or Tuesday morning, you know, just play it by ear in case there was anything else we wanted to do."

More than anything, you wished you could just leech a little bit of that excitement from him. The glimpses of his smile you caught as you drove under the street lights made your heart ache.

"What?" He asked with that wide smile of his. You'd been caught staring, red-handed.

"I, uh, I just don't know what to tell you."

You could see the subtle change of his grin, watch as it softened and his hand came to rest on your thigh. "Hey, it's gonna be fine! And if we run into them while out doing stuff, you can just avoid them or hide behind me!" At least hiding behind Eijiro is an easy thing to do, damn mountain of a man.

His thumb slowly brushed back and forth. "'S gonna be okay. I'll beat 'em up if they're assholes!"

You snickered at his Katsuki impression and let the drone of the radio fill the air around you both. Enjoying the silence the rest of the way to the hanger with Eijiro's hand atop your leg.

[captnjacksparrow]

So does Kishi officially hate NH and SS? Because I can't help but think like that when I see them in Boruto. Like no way he wants them to be seen as happy or content. Also, it seems like he still hates Sakura because just just look at her, she hasn't really changed. Her dynamic with Sasuke hasn't really changed. She gives chase, Sasuke ignores. Except Sasuke looks more depressed.

Hey, after fifteen years of us chasing after the story and characters we invested in so much, at least give us some indication that they are least happy after sooo many sacrifices, like they deserve that happiness.

But no, if anything, they seem totally miserable. What made Kishi do that? Yes, he can't show them ooc, but Sasuke marrying Sakura is already ooc. Naruto being a bad father is already ooc. Like why go to the extent of showing Sasuke trying not to touch Sakura and pointedly showing that they never kissed? That's just like a determined effort on Kishi's part to show that their marriage is not working. Naruto works way more than any of his predecessors and sleeps in the office or couch so as not to disturb Hinata, when Hinata is specifically designed to accommodate anything that Naruto might require.

Don't get me wrong, I think Boruto is trash. But I am still in interested in SNS in Boruto because that's still canon. Just makes me wonder how Kishi will finally conclude SNS, because their bond still shows clearly in Boruto. Do you think he will kill them any time soon?

Good ask, Anon☺️☺️❤️❤️

Before answering this, I am going to tell you that I don’t watch Boruto. But I know what happened so far, vaguely. Like, Gaiden arc, Karma seal, Kawaki adoption, Kurama’s death, loss of Rinnegan, Time travel arc. Anyways, I might have missed many interactions between Sasuke & Sakura in the filler episodes or other canonical episodes. I would be happy If you send me an episode list or timestamps in where they interact, so that it saves my time instead of me, watching that entire shit show. 

So does Kishi officially hate NH and SS?

In this post, I dissected SS from a non-SNS perspective. It seems Kishi went all out of his way to make their interactions too insincere, blunt and toxic. I mean Sasuke’s absolute lack of interest in her was very evident even until chapter 693. That is right before, their final VoTE fight. And even after Sakura comes to heal their injuries, he just said ‘Ummmm..... I guess Sorry’... 

Kishi could have made Sasuke say some corny shit to Sakura like how he felt bad inside for hurting her, how he missed her, wiping her tears or whatever (Puke!!!! 🤮🤮🤮). Because in the previous chapter, Sasuke basically confessed to Naruto internally about how he felt about Naruto when he was a child. Kishi could have done the same for Sakura in just 4, 5 panels. But anyways, my point is, Kishi’s moment to salvage that ship is chapter 699. 

But he didn’t.

Did Kishi tried to build their bond after marriage?

He definitely could’ve. But he didn’t. 

This shows his clear distaste in SS.

As for NH, Kishi is indifferent. He neither hates them nor loves them. Kishi created Hinata as a pairing fodder and she still is. 

Also, it seems like he still hates Sakura because just just look at her, she hasn't really changed. Her dynamic with Sasuke hasn't really changed. She gives chase, Sasuke ignores. Except Sasuke looks more depressed.

Hmmm, I don’t know whether Sasuke hates her, anon. Again, maybe I’ve missed those parts. But when he looks at her, it’s always filled with regrets and an urge to avoid her (like Itachi avoided Sasuke, but for totally sad and genuine reasons). 

But this again begs the question, ‘Why feeling regret or hesitant even after 12 years?’. 

Believe me anon, Love/Bonds/Understanding can happen at anytime of your life. From where I come from, not everyone marries out of love. Arranged marriages are common. But still, many couples make effort and work out their difference, and find love. Kishi could’ve done the same for SS too. 

Is Sasuke that heartless? No.

He was once a boy who bear hugged his brother every time Itachi comes back from the Academy. Itachi’s presence itself made Sasuke so happy. 

Did he become heartless after the massacre? Also no.

Even after the trauma, Sasuke just became aloof and cold. But he always becomes a child who can pout, be silly, becomes animated, bicker around Naruto. So, he can be lovely, but only around the people he choose by himself. 

Still, Sakura is not that person. So, he looks like he is depressed and wants to escape from her at any given chance because of a certain guilt. 

What made Kishi do that? Yes, he can't show them ooc, but Sasuke marrying Sakura is already ooc. Naruto being a bad father is already ooc. Like why go to the extent of showing Sasuke trying not to touch Sakura and pointedly showing that they never kissed? That's just like a determined effort on Kishi's part to show that their marriage is not working.

To answer, this goes way back, anon. 

Kishi is a person who prefers to write love through intense friendship, sensei-student dynamics and brotherhood. He can occasionally write cute and sweet romance but it can only be short like 2 or 3 pages... or a chapter, max. He can’t go on doing it for 70 chapters for romance. Which was evident from Minato & Kushina, Dan & Tsunade, Obito & Rin. 

But the real deal of Naruto manga is the bond between Naruto and Sasuke. The bond between Itachi and Sasuke also played a huge role in this series. And then comes Hashirama and Madara, Jiraiya and Naruto, Kakshi and Obito, Kakashi and Naruto and many more. So, Kishi pretty much gave an ending he wanted for a long time in chapter 699. He successively pulled off a great manga without corny and shitty romance but with just friendship and brotherhood alone. He didn’t give two shits about NH or SS before chapter 700.

Naruto series’ another success lies on it’s characters tragic backstories. I simply loved them all and most of them made me cry. 

Kishi wanted to move on from Naruto.

But then Money played a big part. Naruto series can be milked in a lot of ways. Editors wanted all the characters to become some baby making dolls. So you have to create pairings. Based on the popularity polls, they decided NH and SS.

In my opinion, Sasuke is a goal-oriented person. He is a wanderer who works on his own accords. Ever since he left Konoha when he was 13, that was his path, so you can’t make him stay in one place. At every stage of his life, he had different goals.

At age 8-15, he had one goal. To kill Itachi. Can he have a romance here? Nope.

At age 16, his goal is to destroy Konoha. No chance of romance in that dark path.

At age 17, he wanted to Revolutionize the shinobi system. Since he wanted to be alone for that goal, no possibility of romance.

At age 18, he adopted Naruto’s dream as his own. To make all shinobi cooperate and look out for Kaguya remains. Romance cannot happen here as he was constantly wandering around and he prefers to work alone.

This is how Kishi designed Sasuke’s character throughout.

Now all of a sudden, if you ask Kishi to go OOC by asking him to write corny romance for his favorite character Sasuke just for the sake of making him relevant to Boruto series, what will he do? 

Since Boruto is a series which is a sequel to Naruto, you pretty much know everyone’s backstory. Those 12 year old New Gen kids possibly can’t have tragic stories like Naruto or Sasuke. 

Kishi being a troller, used this opportunity to create a piss poor sob story for Sarada by making Sasuke as an absentee father and an unloving husband.

He created a sad story for Sarada and he gets to shit on SS ship. Two birds, One stone!!!! 

Now, Sasuke being an unloving husband is OOC ? Nope. He was never a marriage material in the first place. So he is perfectly in-character.

Sasuke being an absentee father is OOC? No and Yes. No, because it’s the effect of the cause I mentioned above. Yes, because unlike Naruto, Sasuke once had a father. He can try to reach her out now and often. but he prefers not to do instead he cares more about Boruto. LOL.

Sasuke being not family oriented is OOC? Nope. He is a goal oriented person. His goal is same as Naruto’s dream. He will go to any extent to fulfill it, even at the expense of his family’s happiness. Because that’s what he learnt from Itachi. What Itachi taught him was, even at the expense of his own happiness and Sasuke’s trauma, he preferred Konoha and Shinobi World’s peace. That’s what Sasuke is doing now. 

Naruto works way more than any of his predecessors and sleeps in the office or couch so as not to disturb Hinata, when Hinata is specifically designed to accommodate anything that Naruto might require.

As for Naruto, 

I think it’s very funny. And I guess, I know why.

Just like Sasuke, Naruto is also a goal oriented person. 

Remember, in that Boruto movie, Sasuke knocks Naruto’s door at the midnight?

Imagine if Naruto opened the door. 

Sasuke will be like, ‘Alright mothafucka!!! I wanted to die in the VoTE itself. You wanted me in your dream world. Am working my ass off for your stupid dreams and trying to reach you without even meeting my own family. And yet here you are, sleeping well and sound. Am just gonna Chidori you!!!’ LOL.

I think you get my point. 

If you make Sasuke to be an hardworker, then Naruto must work even hard to fulfill his dream. So you possibly can’t have Naruto playing duet with Himata or whatever trash. 

So kishi pulled his Two birds, One Stone for NH here!!!

In short, Kishi gets to make his New generation shine through this pathetic sob stories and at the same time, kept his favorite characters without going OOC. 

So, it’s a polite way of Kishi showing middlefinger to SS and NH for making him do this. He is saying, ‘Alright folks, you wanted this all along. But this is what you will get!!!’.

Just makes me wonder how Kishi will finally conclude SNS, because their bond still shows clearly in Boruto. Do you think he will kill them any time soon?

I think about this all the time. How will they end?? How will they die??

Now, don’t think I am some sadist for wanting them to die. I am just being practical and honest here. This is a new generation series. Of course, at some point, Naruto and Sasuke has to die for the sake of character development. And I will be happy if they die because I don’t like their miserable portrayal in Boruto at all. 

Naruto series has a pattern when it comes to death portrayal. Meaningful characters (except Neji) always die protecting someone/something they cherish. Jiraiya died for Naruto, Yahiko died for Konan & Nagato, Itachi died for Sasuke & Konoha, Haku died for Zabuza, Obito (younger) died for Kakashi & Rin and so on.

Ever since Naruto became Hokage, his death is pretty much plastered on his head. He will die protecting Konoha just like all the Hokages from First to Fourth who sacrificed their life for Konoha. 

But Sasuke??? 

I am going to say he will die protecting Naruto or the village. But for Naruto mostly. Either way, Sasuke will die first. 

Dying for Naruto, the reasons are crystal clear. He already died protecting Naruto once in the Zabuza arc. He will never hesitate to do it again. Which was evident from the way he told Naruto in the Boruto movie while giving his Susanoo, ‘If they capture the real you, then everything is gone’. Somewhere in Boruto Manga chapter 38 (I don’t remember properly), Sasuke was yelling at Naruto, ‘If you are gone, it’s pretty hopeless’ and was praying ‘Naruto, don’t you die’. 

So it’s pretty much Sasuke saying to Naruto, ‘I’ll protect you, You protect everyone’

But why the village?? Why will Sasuke die for Konoha which caused him so much pain?? I know anti-konoha stans wont like this, but that’s the reality.

It seems many Sasuke fans never paid attention to his character. After hearing the story from all the Hokages, Sasuke said, ‘I will not let Itachi’s life and this village into nothing’. He really meant it. Because for Sasuke, Itachi was more precious. Itachi died saying, ‘I’ll have protected my village as Uchiha Itachi of Konoha once again. I have no more regrets’. Sasuke wanted to respect his brother’s wish finally and that’s why he openly claimed in the battlefield, ‘I am going to protect Konoha and become it’s Hokage’. Sasuke’s another precious person is Naruto. He is the Hokage now. 

Don’t you think Sasuke will die protecting something Itachi and Naruto values so much??

He even claimed it openly in Boruto Manga. ‘I would die anytime for Konoha, as has your dad (Naruto)’

Sasuke even said to Boruto, “I will stop you even if I have to kill you”. And do you think Sasuke is just pouring out some empty words??? Sasuke will not let Boruto to turn into an Otsutsuki monster and destroy the village.

Like I said, Sasuke will go out first. And eventually Naruto will follow him. Or they both die protecting the village together. I don’t see them dying for their wives or children. Because, their relationship with their family is not too strong and their ambitions are far beyond their own families.

Maybe for this reason, Kishi is trolling NH and SS in Boruto. LOL.

Naruto’s bond with Sasuke was formed even before his birth, when Kushina asked the 3 month old Baby Sasuke to be friends with Naruto.

However, One thing is for sure. One will not live very long without the Other or Both will die together. That’s how their bond should end. 

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hello Steph! First, thank you for everything you do for this fandom!! I don’t know what we would do without you!! ♥️ I am looking to start my first novel length Johnlock fic. I found your list, and was wondering if you had a specific one to recommend to start off with? I’m looking for something that won’t make me too sad (the world does that on its own), and of course, lots of Johnlock!! Any recommendations would be appreciated, thank you!! Sending love!! *hugs*

HI NONNY!

Hmm, this is tough, because Novel Length is anything over 50K words, but some people don’t want to read “novels that short”. So I get a lot of requests for Epic novels over 100K, so like WOOO HOO LOL.

Hmm. How about I give you a few recs varying lengths, based on your requirements, and you can decide how long you want to go, since I list all my word counts on my recs?

First off, for when you become obsessed with the lengthy fics like I am now LOL:

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K (Nov. 2018)

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K Pt 2 (May 2020)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. (May 2019)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. Pt 2 (Aug 2020)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. Pt 3 [MFL’s] (Dec 2020)

Next, here’s something for each range between 50 and 100K+ <3

BUT BEFORE I BEGIN: honourable mention because it IS my fave fic ever, and it fits your criteria minus the length so SORRY but please check it out:

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w., 7 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

--------

Okay, now the main event, of more-fluff-than-angst:

NOVEL LENGTH NOT-SO-ANGSTY FICS FOR NEWBIES

Spare Change by Ermerness (E, 51,966 w., 14 Ch. || Rich Holmeses AU || First Kiss / Time, Holmes Family, Virgin Sherlock, Anal, First Meetings, Bossy Bottomlock) – The Holmes family is one of the richest and most powerful in England. Sherlock spends his time flying around the world on the family's private jet drinking a lot and shopping at expensive boutiques as a way of trying to alleviate his endless boredom. His mother decides it's time he settles down with someone powerful, wealthy and well connected. John Watson happens to be none of those things.

Guilty Secrets by Ellipsical (E, 55,086 w., 16 Ch. || Post-TRF, Drumsticks, First Kiss/Time, Love Confession, Self-Sexual-Discovery, Anal, Rimming, Orgasm Denial, Butt Plugs, Cooking, Furniture Sex, Bath Sex, Rimming, Double Penetration, Prostate Massage, Anal Beads, Dancing, Romance, Tantric Edging, Internalized Homophobia, Case as Foreplay, Anal Beads, Tickling, Dancing, Dry Coming, Romance) – John has a prostate exam and discovers something surprising about himself. Experimentation follows. Sherlock wants to help. They're in love. You know the drill.

Bridging the Ravine by SilentAuror (E, 58,887 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Couple For a Case, Bed-Sharing, First Times, Confessions, Awkwardness, Sex Trafficking, Massages, Wet T-Shirt Contest, Group Therapy, Past Loss of Child) – Sherlock and John go undercover at Ravine Valley, a therapy centre for same-sex male couples in an investigation into a possible human trafficking ring. As they pose as a couple and fake their way through the therapy sessions for the sake of the case, it quickly becomes difficult to avoid discussing their very real issues. Set roughly six nine months after series 4.

Perdition's Flames by i_ship_an_armada (E, 63,435 w., 21 Ch. || Treklock AU, Est. Rel, Genetic Engineering, Angst & Fluff, BAMF!John) – Sherlock would do anything to save him. Risk anything. Give anything. His money, his life. His soul. What he does, though, is change both of their destinies forever. Genetic re-engineering is the only option left. It turns out researchers underestimated the life expectancy and potential abilities of genetically re-engineered subjects. The British government and what would eventually become the United Federation of Planets, however, had not. Part 1 of PF Universe

A Cure For Boredom by emmagrant01 (E, 81,665 w., 8 Ch. || Dirty Talk, Threesomes, Light Dom/Sub, Sex Club, Experiments, Anal, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rimming, Cheeking, Double Penetration, Mild Kink, Porn Watching, Voyeurism, Masturbation) – They’d never talked about sex in the year they’d known each other. Well, that wasn’t quite correct: Sherlock had never said a word about sex; John had bemoaned his personal dearth of it on many occasions.

Uphill by scullyseviltwin (E, 84,945 w., 18 Ch. || Olympics AU || Sherlock POV, Skier!Sherlock / Medic!John, Rivalry, 2014 Olympics, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is striving for gold in this, his fourth and final Olympics as a downhill Alpine racer.

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w., 11 Ch. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Facial Shaving, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

The Horse and his Doctor by khorazir (T, 129,003 w., 13 Ch. || Horse / Vet AU || Magical Realism, Horses, Vet John, Horse Sherlock, Implied Alcoholism) – Invalided after a run in with a poacher in Siberia, veterinary surgeon John Watson finds it difficult to acclimatise to the mundanity of London life. Things change when a friend invites him along to a local animal shelter and he meets their latest acquisition, a trouble-making Frisian with the strangest eyes and even stranger quirks John has ever encountered in a horse.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Midnight Blue Serenity by BeautifulFiction (E, 151,907 w., 19 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar / For a Case, Drugs, Pining, Case Fic, UST) – When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate's charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || 70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That's all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition. (PUBLISHED AS ‘The Sea Ain’t Mine Alone’)

Mise en Place by azriona (M, 161,004 w., 28 Ch. || Restaurant (Kitchen Nightmares) AU || Sherlock is Gordon Ramsay / Celebrity Sherlock, Restauranteur John, Harry Plays Prominent Role, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, Cranky Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn) – John Watson had no intentions of taking over the family business, but when he returns from Afghanistan, battered and bruised, and discovers that his sister Harry has run their restaurant into the ground, he doesn't have much choice. There's only one thing that can save the Empire from closing for good – the celebrity star of the BBC series Restaurant Reconstructed, Chef Sherlock Holmes. Part 1 of Mise en Place

-------

Hope you enjoy those!!! <3 PLEASE read them all, though, and THEN READ ALL THE ONES ON THOSE LISTS. Because once you start long fics, you get REALLY INTO THEM. Hah hah <3

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Tuesday 3 October 1837

7 40

11 50

fine morning F59 ½° at 8 35 and went downstairs to a Mr. Greenwood from H-x who brought a plan for the water wheel – breakfast with A- (and Mr. Gray came at 9) at 8 50 in about ¾ hour – then looking to see what sum of Lords rent A- owns to Lady William Gordon (vid. 30 August) and calculating for her she leaving the money £4.16.11 for SW. this morning to pay Mr. Lister the auctioneer who collects these rents -  off in the yellow carriage to Thorpe at 10 – took A- to Nicholsons’ shop, and staid with her there from 10 ¼ to 10 50, and then set her down (to walk to Cliff Hill) at the far end of  the northbridge at 10 55 and drove off to the White Lion for a ticket for the King x bar – off from the White lion at 11 and met Mr. J. Priestley on the road (he going into Norland) at 11 ½ and took him back in the carriage to his own house and alighted there about 11 ¾ and came way at 1 35 – both the brothers J and Walker P- the former brought his plan of his estimate and the greater intelligence of the latter much aided our conversation – said I had come over to tell JP.  he could do me a service and himself too – Explained – he seemed to know very little about coal – JP. said he must take advice and consider about it – yes! certainly – a matter of consideration to all parties but I should be glad of a determination as soon as possible as I should set about goit or steam engine as soon as I could – I was not fast – there were 2 sides of the brook, either would suit me – but I had preferred applying to P- first – I thought the drain or goit would be a benefit to him and on the other were the Mcaulays with whom I knew Mr. Stocks would have influence – P- wished to consult a disinterested person – I said no coal-person would be so – I mentioned Kitchingman Childe – and Matthew Naylor as valuing tenants damages for me, I thought £6 per DW. – and Mr. Cooke of Elland called in to value coal damages for me, and Illingworth Miss Walkers’ coal tenant, Mr. Rawsons’ great man and very clever, but he certainly would not be disinterested – I said they would tell him (JP.) that the privilege was worth thousands to me – of that I left him to judge for himself merely observing that if he thought so, I should give the thing up – I did not even offer him more than damages, because I thought the benefit, to him and the expense to me sufficiently great – it could not be done for less than 10/. per running yard – might be – probably would be a 2 thousand pounds job – might be (but SW.’s survey would shew) from 2 to 3 thousand yards long – WP. measured the plan from which, direct across from about the low end of waste-wood to the head of Walterclough mill new goit, seemed = 1100 yards explain the benefit of the goit to JP. his upper bed 60 or 70 yards deep at Dumb mill bridge and 51 yards at Walkerclough mill (vid. near the bottom of last page) – my goit would begin at about 40 or 42 yards below the surface; and if ever his coal was wanted would save him 30 or 40 yards of pumping he wished I would loose his coal – I said it was not in my power to do what except perhaps about the upper 1/3 of it – never thought of working my own coal but gently explained how forced into it – the communication between R. and me underground pretty near – mentioned the assa-faetida for the 10 acres sold I had only a price between the 2 prices sold at by my uncle and it was odd that

SH:7/ML/E/20/0138

that such objection was made to my sending anyone into R-‘s pits – it was suspicious – I should have no objection to anyone going into my pits – if anything was wrong, I should be glad to be informed of it; if not, what need of mystery – the law of no use – must give a fortnights’ notice of a chancery injunction, and that time enough for stopping all up so that nothing could be found out – But now I was pretty much at ease – it was now discovered that R- could  not get the bit of coal I had wished to buy – for which R- bade 1 hundred and got me up to 5 hundred when I said he might have it – but they could not make a title to it – I believed also that he could not get Walker P-‘s coal – H- had offered a good price and was not likely to offer as much again    WP. knew of the throw that had been found but said H- had been at great expense and must have some coal to pay for it – I quietly said yes!  but he had a large quantity already and now that nobody could get WP.’s but H-, it made a great difference – if  I did not let my colliery and perhaps I should not H- was naturally my agent for it; and the colliery would in case be almost as good as his won, so that he would be in no want of coal – said I should be glad to see but the Messrs. P- at Shibden hall – nothing wanted but a table large enough; and they would learn from my plans in 2 minutes more than their own plans or mere talk could shew them in 2 hours – said I should be glad to avoid the smoke of an engine, but if obliged to have it, I should easily get over it – the chimney would be carried up into the hill and Mr. Harper thought the nuisance would be very small – I could a 14 horse English for £420 (vid. line 12 of yesterday) and the whole outlay engine house road and everything would not exceed £1000 nor would the daily expense exceed 10/. (including coal fireman and wear and tear) – at all rates the annual expense would not exceed £200; and then I should do my coal work and benefit nobody – Mr. JP. might think of this when they told him the privilege was worth thousands to me  and then judge for himself be it remembered I am not fast – if I was I must come into P-‘s terms yes! said P- ‘and you we all make what we can’ (How nicely characteristic!) he thought we should want some written document – yes! certainly said I – for my sake quite as much as yours – but that will be left to our attorneys – or I will shew you a rough draft of agreement for your perusal - I will shew you the old grant from Mrs. Firth to my grandfather – But we are both of us people who will come to the business without any wish to take any advantage one either side – oh! yes! to be sure, said JP- that their confidence in me may [?] with the length of the proposed goit je n’en sais rien – I doubt it – but SW. is to take the levels and I am to let JP. know the result and he will consider about and take advice and come over – In fear and trembling lest my goit and I should be too deep for him? I had told him his coal was not worth more than £10 an acre now – it could not got in one time – say 56 years how often would ten pounds double itself in that time? – Holt said I had coal enough of my own to last twenty colliers getting 150 years – Walker P- said my coal might not be so valuable for coal had been discovered in Soyland – a seam 9in. thick – in 1834 – some Lancashire colliers had come over but the property here was so divided nothing could be done – they thought it might be the Dule (Lancashire Dule or some such name) bed – WP. gave me a copy of the strata bored thro’ at Soyland mill (near Thorpe) in 1834 as follows  

                                    yards        ft.        in.

1 Shale                             6

2 Black ditto                    9

3 Gritty ditto                  16

4 Shale                             18

5 Iron stone                     1            .           6

6 Shale                             3            .           10

7 Iron stone                                   2          8

8 Shale                             20           1          6

9 Iron stone                                   1          6

10 Shale                            3

11 Iron stone                   1

12 Black shale                  4

13 Intermixed with          8

shale

14 Iron stone                    1        .           6

15 Left off in black            4       .           8

shale very soapy

                                         96      2         2

Had just written all the above of today in an hour at 4 ¼ - Miss Priestley with us the whole time – changed my dress before sitting down to my journal how will the matter end? shall I get the privilege or not? – then wrote as follows to ‘Mr. Samuel Washington, Crownest’ – ‘Shibden hall. Tuesday 3 October 1837 – Sir – I shall be obliged to you to let me know the earliest day you can take the levels of the brook, from the gapstead in the bit of wall between the Bunker hill and Parkfield in Lower Place land, going along Mr. John Priestley’s land down to the lowest extremity of my Southolm land – I am sir, etc. etc. etc. A. Lister’ – JP. particularly inquired what n° of vent pits I should require I said I could not exactly tell – something would depend upon himself air might be carried in pipes 200 or 300 yards and the drain would be so deep I should make as few vent pits as possible unless he gave me to leave to make as many as I liked and I found them cheaper than pipes – at any rate I should want the privilege of a place to bury the scale in – thought about 1 ½ yard cube per running yard would come out – but all should be buried so as to leave no nuisance – not a bit of scale to be seen – I should do it as I had done that in my own land – JP. had best come and see – But I thought I could manage very well with 6 vent pits in JP-‘s land supposing the length 1100 yards went downstairs at 4 ¾ - George gone for A- ¼ hour ago – out, about a little while then at 5 5 off to Mitham to send my note by little John – he went to Mr. George Robinson’s on Monday (yesterday) to work in the land and eat at home – walked forwards meaning to go to Crownest – met A- not far from on this side of Hipperholme lane ends – sent George back with the note and returned with A- and back at 6 – then out with Robert Mann seeing about road for the platform carts till 6 40 then ¼ hour with A- dressed – dinner at 7 10 – asleep – coffee –read the newspaper – came upstairs 5 minutes after A- at 10 pm at which hour F61° - fine till about noon – then a couple of hours rain or more afterwards tolerably fair – but damp warm disagreeable afternoon and evening – raining fast about 10 1/2 pm

[meghanayar]

A memo from the mountains

Facebook reminded me yesterday that it’s been seven years since my family and I embarked on a two-week sojourn to the Swiss Alps.

This trip was memorable for a hundred different reasons, most of which make me laugh hysterically even today.

For instance, we were 16 people who carried 44 kilos of food with us. Yes, a full 44 kilos of food - it was weighed and checked at the airport. I will never forget the bewilderment on the face of the Emirates Airlines employee who spotted a 5-litre pressure cooker amongst our belongings.

Why so much food, you ask? Is that even a question? We are Gujjus, and we cannot imagine being deprived of our staple diet for a full fourteen days. Besides, Switzerland is the most expensive country in the most expensive continent on the planet, and when we travelled there in 2014, the Euro stood at a staggering 87 INR. Which Gujjus worth their salt would eat out in such a scenario?

So, the day before we were to leave, my mother summoned our ever-faithful cook and asked him to whip up as many theplas, bhakhris and pooris as his arms would allow. The other three mothers in the group did the same thing. Then, my brother escorted the whole haul to his friend’s shop (a neighbourhood gruh udyog), where all the theplas, bhakhris and pooris were vacuum-packed - basically, dressed to survive 13 hours in cargo.

During the two weeks that we spent in that tiny Swiss village named Val d’Illiez, we cooked every desi meal possible - from pav-bhaji to poha to chhole-puri to besan cheelas. Heck, we even repurposed leftover bhakhris, using them as pizza base on the last day!

However, food was the only department that sailed smoothly on this trip. Everything else that could go wrong, most certainly did.

Like the time we stopped to have lunch at a metro station (yes, food again) and nearly missed the train. I say “nearly” because three of us managed to get inside, while the other thirteen - including our parents - were left hanging on the platform when the doors closed. Luckily for them, the driver was a sweet soul who reopened the door, and waited patiently while all the aunties and uncles boarded. Had he been the nasty kind, we’d have ended up paying a penalty equivalent to the amount of money we saved by lugging 44 kilos of food!

Then, there was my mother - who refused to let us carry our passports even though it was mandatory (in order to use the travel pass), because she feared that we would misplace them. Every day, my father would remind her about the passports, and every day she would refuse. “Koi TC-VC maangshe nahi!” was her standard answer.

Well, on the second-last day, the TC did ask for our passports. And when we told her we didn’t have them, the TC threatened to fine us 70 Euros each. I did some quick mental callisthenics. We stood to pay 6000 rupees per head!

I swung into action - politely begging her to let us go. “My mother doesn’t listen to us, otherwise we’d be carrying the passports” I told her in my finest French. She pardoned us eventually, but not without shooting me the angriest look I’ve ever received.

The funniest part of this trip was our return flight - when an Indigo staffer simply refused to let us board with a pressure cooker. “But Emirates allowed us!” yelled the angry mothers at the counter lady. “EMIRATES DID! How can you refuse then?!”

“Because I can,” said the lady very calmly, “You will not check that cooker in. I won’t allow it.”

We eventually left for Ahmedabad without our beloved 5-litre Prestige pressure cooker - our faithful companion that had saved us thousands in restaurant bills.

While this trip was replete with moments of comedic gold, it was also, for me, a coming-of-age affair. I was newly-single then, looking to resurrect my career, and slightly embarrassed to be the oldest “kid” in the group at 26. When we trekked up hills, boated across lakes and explored villages, I often broke away from the group, to ponder on some essential questions that would help me rebuild my life.

“What would I want to spend the rest of my life doing?” was one of those questions.

Eventually, during one of those quiet long walks, I received the answer. It happened spontaneously, like a brahmagyaan moment. The thought clicked in my mind, and I knew the universe had answered my question.

It was actually quite simple. Having lost a couple of precious years to an ill-fated marriage, I wanted to own the rest of my life. I wanted to be the boss of my time, so that I could spend it working with words in every manner possible - reading, writing, teaching and learning languages.

Words aside, I wanted the liberty to live without ultimatums from the clock. I wanted to be able to tread new terrain as and when I pleased, without being held back by the biological/maternal impulse to prioritize another human's needs over mine.

I hadn’t heard the word “child-free” until that point. “Anti-natalism” was yet to become mainstream. Nobody I knew had taken this route. But I knew that this was the path for me. And that if I ever sought out a partner for myself again, it would have to be someone who’d agree with me on this.

Seven years later, my gratitude for that moment of enlightenment has only grown stronger. Where I once had only one reason to make this choice, I now have a hundred more, especially after the pandemic. I love children and cherish the time I get to spend with my friends’ kids, but I know definitively that I will never have any of my own. Because I don’t want to.

I am a happily child-free woman. I understand that this is not for everyone, but it is just right for me. It lets me be. It is the wind beneath my wings - heck, it IS my wings.

As I sit here amidst the Himalayas now, reading stories and crafting some, I am grateful for that holiday in the Alps, seven years ago, that made me this person. This post today is a little tribute to the trip that changed my life.

If there is a God, She lives in the mountains. I can feel her voice in my bones. She always knows what I need. She has all the solutions.

[sleep-i-ness]

Mission Worries (Bucky Barnes x Stark!reader)

Summary: Bucky Barnes isn’t trusted to go on missions and Tony Stark’s niece would probably die the minute she stepped foot in the field, if her previous training sessions are anything to go by. So, they are forced to sit around while their self-sacrificing friends and family run around, trying to save the world.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death of mom, drinking

All MCU Taglist: @perfecthideoutvixen @1marvelavengers1​

Bucky Taglist: @holybatflapexpert​

Bucky lay on the couch, the ratty blanket, which appeared to have once been white but had yellowed with age, half tucked under him. He flicked mindlessly through the channels; eyes staring intently on the moving pictures yet seemingly also not quite there, his gaze sightless. Settling on a cheerful and colourful musical, his fingers worried at the tassels on the pillow beneath his head and Bucky couldn’t help but lose focus as his thoughts drifted to the past.

Bucky knew this movie. He’d seen it before, back in 1939, before the war, before everything really. He’d managed to convince Steve to allow him to buy them tickets. Although money was scarce, it had been a successful season and Bucky was determined to spoil Steve for once. To be honest, he had thought that the film was hilarious if not utterly ridiculous, but it was worth it to watch Steve’s enraptured face as it turned from black and white to glorious technicolour. Flying monkeys. Who’d come up with that?

His thoughts snapped back to the present as he heard the soft patter of footsteps from the kitchen, muscles immediately tensing. Stark’s niece soon came out, balancing a couple bowls of buttered microwave popcorn and a large glass of some miscellaneous liquid as you stumbled into the living room. You plonked yourself down onto the second couch and sighed as you heard the cheesy tunes, which only served to exacerbate the pulsing in your head. Taking a large swig from the glass of amber liquid, you grimaced. It ran down your throat, warming you from the inside out, and you stared at your glass, turning it back and forth to watch how the liquid rippled under the light.

“Is that whisky?” A deep voice interrupted your reverie, startling you away from your thoughts.

“Yeah, well, it’s scotch malt whisky,” you glanced at the figure stretched out on the couch, barely keeping your eyes open. “You see, I went to go steal some of Tony’s clothes because he’s got really fancy taste and they’re super comfy because they’re always the highest quality cotton or whatever. But then I found the minibar and decided it would be really fun to try some of his scotch. It’s really good, d’you want some?”

It was then Bucky noticed you were wearing one of Tony’s oversized sweaters and sweatpants, a hand gripped so tightly around the glass that your fingers were turning white. Lowering your shaking arm, you reached out for the popcorn, the grease from the butter covering your fingers with a shine. 

“He’ll be okay, you know?” Bucky knew what it was like to worry about your friends and family; he still couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he needed to look after Steve. That he no longer had to keep an eye out for the little Manhattan boy. Sometimes, while out in New York, he still expected to round the corner of an alley and see Stevie sprawled on the floor. One thing Steve hadn’t lost over the past 70 years was his sense of justice and morality; he would stand up for what he believed in even if it meant disobeying his superiors. Bucky worried every time Steve went out on missions. With his past as the Winter Soldier, he still wasn’t trusted to join the rest of the Avengers and it meant that he couldn’t keep an eye on Steve, who was the most reckless little shit with no self-preservation instincts.

“Who? Tony? Yeah, I know, he’s always okay. A little battered and bruised but he survives.” You plastered a fake grin onto your face, trying desperately to convey in your tone that everything was just peachy.

You and Tony had never had the best relationship whilst your mom had been alive. He’d never been around; throwing wild parties that were renowned throughout the state, even the country. But once she’d died and he’d taken you in, you’d seen the man hidden beneath the facade. He was so much more than he would ever have himself believe. But your inability to shoot within a metre of a target and lack of fighting expertise meant you were never going to be trusted to head out into the field with him. Not that you particularly wanted to.

“You’re allowed to be worried; you don’t need to bottle it up.”

“Oh, I’m not worried. Can’t a girl have a drink without having some ulterior motive?” You chuckled, trying to play off the unnerving feeling that he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking. “So, the Wizard of Oz, huh? I didn’t have you pegged for the cheesy musical type.”

Bucky murmured some sort of assent at your remark, mostly absorbed by the film.  You waited for a reply, nails tapping against the side of your glass.

“Oh, sorry, I got distracted. Yeah, not usually, but I saw this one with Steve before the war broke out,” Bucky’s face softened as he thought back to those days. God, everything was so much simpler. When the only thing he had to worry about was keeping Steve out of trouble and taking dames out.

“Sounds nice. Long time ago though, I’m surprised you remember. Aren’t old people supposed to lose their memory?” You giggled at Bucky’s mock offended expression and stuck one bowl of popcorn in his direction. “Take. I can’t eat two whole bowls by myself.”

“I’d like to let you know that I’m not that old,” Bucky grumbled. “But thanks. Is that offer for a drink still on the table?”

“Yeah, yeah. Lemme ask JARVIS.” You waved your hand in the air. “Hey J, does Tony have any whisky in here?”

“Mr Stark has said that he does not approve of your drinking as you’re, and I quote, ‘basically still a child.’” The disembodied voice still made Bucky jump. Another thing he hadn’t quite gotten used to yet. On previous missions he’d never had to encounter a talking house. And he’d seen a lot of weird shit.

“You told him, J?” Your mouth dropped in surprise as you clasped a hand to your heart. “Oh, your betrayal wounds me, JARVIS. Truly, you’ve permanently lost my trust.”

“Yes Miss Stark,” JARVIS replied dryly. It was weird how a machine could express some semblance of emotion.

“Can you tell him that it’s for Bucky here? Actually no, quote me and say that it’s for Mr Barnes.” You winked lazily at Bucky, half falling off the sofa as you leant over one arm of it. “Don’t want Tony getting all protective because he got the wrong idea.”

“Mr Stark wishes for me to tell Sergeant Barnes that he’d better be keeping his hands off his niece. And that there is no way he is letting either of you touch his expensive whisky.”

You groaned playfully and Bucky felt a grin tug at the corner of his mouth as he stared at you. You were always one for the theatrics, clearly a Stark by nature. Slumping over the arm of the sofa, you seemed deep in thought, fingers steepled.

Sliding off your seat, you scooched over to the wall. Running your fingertips over the joins idly, you narrowed your eyes at the minimalistic decor.

"I've got it!"

You leapt up, eyes alight with mischief. Your enthusiasm was infectious.

"You've got what, doll?" The pet name rolled off Bucky's tongue, and he waited with bated breath for what he was sure was to be a rejection or expression of disgust. You seemed to not even have noticed; fingers running along the back panelling.

"Here!" Your fingers curled round the edge of one panel, tugging it out. "You have to keep this a secret,” you tapped your nose conspiratorially, “Tony likes his hidden compartments. Unfortunately for him, I discovered that little secret a while ago."

You pulled out a bottle of amber liquid and Bucky watched as it sloshed against the glass, sparkling under the light. Pouring it out into a crystal cut glass, your tongue poked out from between your lips as you concentrated. Smiling triumphantly, you passed the glass over to Bucky, narrowly avoiding spilling it all over the varnished wooden floors.

"Thanks doll." Bucky's voice was husky, and you felt a shiver run up your spine. Odd. You’d never had that reaction towards him before, so you blamed it on the alcohol. Not the fact that Bucky was undeniably attractive and a million miles out of your league.

"No... no worries," you stammered, wetting your lips.

The awkward silence stretched out between you as you shifted in your seat, sighing as you couldn’t quite find a comfortable spot. You slipped out of the chair dramatically, whisky splashing over the rim of your glass as you threw your arms up in the air.

"D'you wanna come sit next to me?" Bucky offered tentatively, shifting over into more of a sitting position so that there was room.

You felt your cheeks heat up. Stop acting like a teenager around their first crush, you thought frustratedly. Although you didn’t quite believe your ears, there was no way in hell you were letting this opportunity slip by.

"Yeah, sure."

You sat in the gap he’d left for you, acutely aware of how close you were to him without touching. A familiar ache settled in your chest, the desperate longing for physical contact or some form of affection. The tips of your fingers brushed against his t-shirt as you placed your hands beside you; the simple touch igniting the frantic need inside you.

God, you were so worried for Tony.

Every time they went out on missions, you feared that the team would disembark, and you would stand there waiting for that familiar red-and-gold suit, but he wouldn’t emerge. That Captain Rogers would place a gentle hand on your shoulder and tell you the words you’d dreaded to hear.

He was just a man in a fancy piece of armour, trying to make the world a better place.

The Avengers was one hell of a fancy name for a hodgepodge team that sometimes couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as each other. And your uncle was part of them. Yes, you were so proud. But every time Tony told you he had another mission, your heart sank, and you prayed that he’d make it back in one piece.

You shrunk into yourself, eyes glazed as you wrapped your arms tightly around your midriff. Bucky’s proximity was achingly comforting, his presence making your world feel a little safer.

But all you wanted was to be in his arms.

However, for fear of frightening him off, you sat still, back stiff as a poker. Millimetres away from making contact but too hesitant to even try.

“Y/N, that sure doesn’t look comfortable, sitting like that. You alright?” Bucky raised an eyebrow at your rigid posture, “I can shift over more if you’d prefer?”

“No, no, I’m all good,” your words rushed out, not wanting to put him through any trouble.

Bucky’s eyes never left you as the almost offensively cheery show tunes blared in the background, a sharp contrast to the way your chest felt restricted as you blinked back unwillingly tears.

“Come here, sugar.” Bucky spoke softly, placing his arm on the back of the sofa and opening up his body towards you. You shuffled closer, hesitantly leaning your head on his shoulder. Bucky’s arm slipped around you, pulling you closer. “Now do you wanna talk about it?”

You bit your lip, eyes welling as you tried to bottle your emotions back up.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to. If you’re more enticed by watching this cheesy horror show, just lemme know. But I’m here if you wanna talk to someone.”

You cracked a small smile at his quip about the film, eyes downcast as you played with your hands.

“I’m just so fucking worried for Tony.”

The words burst out of their own accord, followed swiftly by a traitorous tear which trickled down your cheek. You brushed the back of your hand roughly under your eye, swiping away any other tears that threatened to fall.

Bucky stayed quiet, prompting you to continue talking.

“Every single time he goes out on a mission, I’m worried I’ll get a call saying he didn’t make it. Because Tony is so stupidly self-sacrificing. You heard about New York and the bomb; I’m terrified, absolutely fucking terrified, he’ll decide to pull a New York 2.0 and I’ll never see him again. All everyone knows is this cocky, charismatic man that he plays the part of to the rest of the world but I’m scared that Tony will never realise how fucking amazing he is ‘cause he’s stuck in his father’s shadow. And maybe if he does, he won’t feel like he has to single-handedly save the world. Even if he must sacrifice himself for it. And I know that is so selfish. But he’s done so much for me… Without him, I don’t know what I would’ve done after my mother’s death. And he’s my only family left.”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek, exhaling softly. “At the end of the day, he’s just a man wearing some fancy armour. Not trained, not scientifically enhanced. However, he doesn’t seem to realise his own mortality.”

A deep breath, a pause.

Your bottom lip quivered, and you buried your head in Bucky’s shoulder, the fabric dampening as your body was wracked with sobs. You felt so silly, crying to a man who probably didn’t really want to hear your problems and was just being polite.

Bucky placed a hand on your lower back, gently massaging circles with his thumb. “It’s okay, doll. It is completely valid to worry about him. I guarantee that Tony would do anything and everything in his capability to come back to you in one piece. But I am always here for you if you feel worried or scared.”

You could feel his voice rumbling in his chest and you curled into him, lifting your head up to blink tearily at him. “Thanks, Buck.”

You wondered how he felt, knowing that his best friend was out risking his life while he still wasn’t trusted to leave the compound without a team tailing him. Did he also worry for Captain Rogers? Or did he feel secure in the fact that the Captain had the super-soldier serum and therefore was practically invincible?

The TV blared in the background- And oh, Auntie Em there's no place like home! The irritatingly joyous voice of Dorothy was perpetually annoying, no matter when or where you heard it. You missed the days when you’d watch these musicals and never get bored, enraptured by the stories and music. Life was so much simpler before your mom fell ill. Before you moved into the Tower and then into the compound when you’d finished college.

You were thankful that Tony had offered you a place to stay even after he had put you through college and had no legal obligations to look after you anymore. But you felt like an impediment and a nuisance because you always seemed to be in the way.

A degree in Electrical Engineering and Computer Science was not particularly useful for the hands-on type of situations that occurred at the compound. Not over a week ago, you’d found yourself in the gym with Agent Barton who had kindly offered to teach you some form of self-defence. To say it went badly was an understatement.

And now you were being a nuisance to Bucky, the one person who hadn’t yet seen you as an unnecessary resident.

“I’m sorry for being such a pain. Thanks for listening, but I was just overreacting,” you sniffled as you tried to pull away from where you lay nestled into his chest. However, his arm kept you close.

“Y/N, I mean it,” Bucky gently lifted your head, two fingers under your chin, to make eye contact. “You are not being a nuisance. I enjoy your company and I am always here for you to talk to. Always.”

You stared into his baby-blues, pulling your lip between your teeth. His thumb hovered by the side of your face, two fingers still holding your head up, and you held your breath. You didn’t want to break the moment.

Beep. Beep. Beep. The alarm rang out, signalling the team’s return. You jumped apart, eyes wide as you listened out for the pattern of the alarm.

The short repetition of regular beeps meant that the mission had gone down smoothly, and you felt a wave of calm rush over you. Bucky sighed beside you and you turned to him with a relieved grin, all thoughts of your previous position gone.

“They’re fine.” You exhaled, resting your head once again against Bucky’ shoulder. “Do you want to go meet them in the tactical room? We could probably sneak into their debrief.”

Bucky’s smile was almost wistful as he gazed at you. “Whatever you want, doll.”

You hesitated; something was niggling at you, as if you were forgetting to do something first. Exhaling softly, you glanced down at Bucky’s lips. Why not? You could always blame it on the alcohol if he rejected you.

You leant in and softly pressed your lips to his.

Pulling away, you brushed a strand of hair that had fallen in your eyes behind your ear. His face was unreadable. Oh God. Now you’d really gone and fucked it up.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me, I-”

Bucky cut you off, grabbing your hips as he hauled you onto his lap. “Don’t apologise, doll.”

His eyes were stunningly blue.

All further thoughts were promptly wiped as he brought his lips down to yours. His arms were around you and his insistent lips parted yours, creating sensations you’d never felt before. Feeling as if you were drowning, his arms were the only thing keeping you from going under. You could taste faint whisky and the scent of his cologne filled your senses, evoking a fire in your veins. You hadn’t ever felt such a desire for someone before, and, before the swimming giddiness took you over, you wrapped your legs round his hips.

Bucky’s hand slipped from your hips to grab your ass, and suddenly you understood why people describe kissing as intoxicating. Every inch of your body seemed to melt into his touch, craving more, as you entwined your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. The hand gently cupping your cheek drew lines of flames across your skin, aching with desire.

“Get the fuck off away from my niece.” Tony burst in, repulsor raised as he gritted out his words. “Now, Barnes.”

You leapt off him, hands raised as Tony glared at the man you’d just been sitting on. The lack of nicknames or funny quips showed just how pissed off he was.

Without Captain Rogers or Agent Romanoff, you weren’t sure what you would have done. They forced Tony to go back to mission debrief, although you’d caught the wink the Captain had given Bucky. You had heard Tony threatening to chuck a certain ex-assassin out of the compound all the way down the corridor, but it would hopefully give him time to cool off.

And to somewhat accept what he’d seen.

Somewhat.

Bucky chuckled softly. “That was a surprise.”

“Yeah.” You murmured in agreement, sitting back down to lean against him. You didn’t think you’d have to worry too much about feeling lonely during missions anymore.

[seriouslyhooked]

When We Collide (Part 1)

Emma Swan has always known one thing: trust no one but yourself. Unfortunately she forgot her one rule and now she’s paying for it. One bad decision led her to the monstrous ‘Crocodile’ a mobster in New York who goes by the name Gold. Hope seems lost until she meets another person in this underworld, Killian Jones. Despite the place they find each other, a true love blossoms, and they manage to get away. But what will happen when Emma discovers who Killian really is? Will love prevail? Um, yeah, I’m writing this, so duh – it’s all love all the time. Fic features motorcycles, hot guys in leather cuts, and a bit of action/drama. Will end happily, and despite the first chapter, will be light on angst. Available on FanFiction Here and AO3 Here. 

A/N: Hey everyone! Surprise! There’s a new fic I’m here to share with you all, and full disclosure, it is very different than my usual fare. You will be able to tell that from this first chapter, and for some of my readers it might be a bit too much. Not to worry, this is just a prologue of sorts, and next chapter will start in a brighter, more hopeful place (we will flash forward in time). Be advised that there is no graphic violence or anything like that, but the premise of this story involves Emma owing a debt to Gold (a mob boss in New York) that she has to pay. She’s working it off in a bar, but she’s not exactly free to go as she does. That’s a lot angstier of a situation than I ever like to deal with, so it’s temporary, but want to give you all the heads up just so you know. I suspect a lot of you will read this and think it’s not that bad, but I figure it’s best to give everyone the heads up. Anyway, I promise that this story will eventually be just as fluffy and feels-filled as my other stories, and I hope you’ll give it a try, even if you decide to skip this chapter and just join for the next. Also, just to shout out the excellent song that partially inspired this fic, you should all listen to the song ‘Collide’ by Tiana Major9 & EARTHGANG. It’s a really beautiful song, and I hope the fic can embody the feel of it as it continues to unfold. Thanks so much for reading, and hope you enjoy!

Maybe I’ll get lucky and everyone will forget I’m back here, Emma thought to herself as she counted up the bottles on the shelves, taking a quick inventory of what they had for the bar out front.

She also needed to keep this count to protect herself. She’d learned a few days into this gig that Gold’s men loved their liquor and they had a tendency to come back here and take it. Instead of letting them do that and then allowing her and her coworkers to take the blame, Emma came up with a system including locks on the door and an electronic documentation of what they had and when. There was no wifi hook up, obviously, as Gold made sure to keep a strict lock on their surroundings, but it did provide an timestamped trail that proved she was taking nothing from this place. Every night she cashed in her tips with Sydney, the bar’s ‘owner’ but really just Gold’s front man and lap dog, and she watched as the debt she owed grew smaller and smaller. In six more months she’d be free of this and she was doing anything and everything she could to shorten that time.

Thinking about her debt made a flare of anger rise in her belly. Truth was this wasn’t even her fucking debt, it was Lily’s, a woman Emma believed to be her friend. They’d met when they were still kids, both of them runaways, and though time had driven them apart, they reconnected when they realized they were both living in New York. Emma had managed to get steady, honest work and was doing her best to claw up from the nothing that she’d started with in life, and she thought Lily was doing the same. Boy had she been wrong.

It turned out that Lily didn’t pay her part of the rent with anything resembling clean money. She’d worked for Gold, and then she fucked him over and ran, leaving Emma none the wiser and thrust into the fallout of a crime she’d never committed. When that moment came Gold gave her two choices: pay off the money he was owed, or suffer a bit before accepting and still paying, but in a less desirable way. Emma chose the former, and she gave everything she had to the man, but it still wasn’t enough. Lily had managed to get off with almost 50k, and while that was chump change to Gold, it was more than double Emma’s savings. Still she’d promised to get him the money, to give him every paycheck she could, save for her rent and food expenses. But it didn’t satisfy the Crocodile, as people were prone to calling him. Gold decreed that she’d work in the bar and that was that. She’d also been ‘moved’ to one of the apartments above the place. But none of her actual belongings ever arrived. All she had was work uniforms and bare essentials. There was no TV, no phone, no nothing. She’d been graced with tattered linens, the most basic of household essentials (as in one plate, one fork, one of everything) and a bunch of dusty books on ranging topics left from tenants past. She also had a chip on her shoulder, created from the unjustness of this whole situation, pushing her to get out of this shit as fast as she could.

“Yo, Emma, you coming back at some point?” A voice asked from the doorway. It was one of her coworkers, a guy named August who she’d never had much to do with. He seemed pretty okay, but then again, he was here working for Gold and he didn’t even seem to have the whole debt-pay off factor going. That was a huge red flag, and one of the reasons Emma never trusted him much. “We got customers.”

“One minute,” she said, and waited until the door swung closed again. Knowing she was along she closed her eyes and took some steadying breaths, gearing up for what would no doubt be a terrible night.

It’s temporary. You just have a few more months. You’ve survived worse. You can survive this too.

When she felt strong enough to put her mask in place and face the raucous debauchery that awaited her outside, Emma squared her shoulders and headed out. Her eyes had to adjust quickly to the dimness of the lighting, and she took in the stronger scents of stale cigar smoke and piss that always clung to this place. No matter how much they cleaned after hours, there was no getting rid of the odor or the grime. This bar was better off burned to the ground and completely built over, but to the men who frequented it, this place was the closest thing they had to home. The Lair, as the neon sign outside advertised, was a total dive, and it was filled to the brim with low-rate mobsters and criminals.

This was one of those places that Hollywood constantly tried ripping off to no avail. In some ways it was completely corny and predictable, and so blatant in its criminal ties that it felt like a joke that everyone was in on. But the embellishments and adornments here were over the top and gaudy, too tacky even for a Las Vegas casino. Gold’s namesake was splashed everywhere, from the countertops to the barstools to the curtains on the back walls. When the finishing got gross and dirty, they’d be replaced, but the style was dated and straight out of the 70s. It was a mobster hideaway with no pretensions, and Emma always thought to herself that the cops should be busting in every night. This was an obvious den of misconduct, but no cops ever came. The reality was that Gold had half the police force in his pocket, and the other half were too scared to cross him for fear of what he’d bring down on them. Gold might be ridiculous and over the top, but he was powerful, and more than that he was smart, so smart Emma knew better than to ever try to run and think she could get away with it.

“Well, well, well. Ain’t you lookin good tonight, sweetheart?”

Emma fought the instinct to roll her eyes at the slurred and shouted words that crossed the bar top over to where she was standing. Two months into her captivity here, and Emma knew better than to let her baser instincts win out. Despite how gross this man was, and how underwhelming he was on any metric of attractiveness, Emma couldn’t cave to her want to blow him off. Doing so was a risk, and if she had any chance of surviving this hell hole, she could not afford to take those.

“What can I get you, Mr. Black?” Emma asked, ignoring the stench of sweat and booze that mingled with the man’s cheap aftershave. She looked at him for only a second before looking down again, knowing her best bet was to try and blend into the background and let these men set their sights on the women who actually wanted to be here.

“I’ll take a night in bed with you, darlin’.” Emma chocked down a gag but flashed an insincere smile as she shook her head.

“You know the rules, Black. I work for Gold in a strictly drink-serving capacity.”

“Damn waste if you ask me, putting talent like you up in the bar.”

A waste? Emma considered it a small miracle. Since the day that Gold’s men had swarmed her apartment with guns drawn, looking for Lily, Emma had been completely at the will of a monster. She knew from the second they apprehended her and brought her back here that she could be destined for anything. People talked about Gold in this city and there was no crime he was too good to partake in. He had brothels all over the place and a stake in the skin trade. He ran drugs and guns, made people disappear and black mailed anyone he could. He had no moral restrictions, and no love greater than the one had for money and control. He owned this city in almost every single way, and if he chose to, he could make her life even worse than it was now. So much worse. It sent a shiver up her spine to even contemplate some of the things she’d heard whispered about. But Gold, as dark and twisted as he was, did have a code, and he’d briefly explained it to her the night she was brought in.

“I’m a man who collects his debts, Miss Swan, but I am also a man who sees a whole story. You had nothing to do with Lily’s betrayal, I know this. You’re collateral damage, a source of collection through no fault of your own. The debt must be payed, but since you yourself have never wronged me, I’ll be good to you. You even think of crossing me, however, and you’ll live to regret it.”

Emma knew the truth when she heard it. Her gut was never wrong. Even with Lily, the problem wasn’t that Emma had missed her true colors, she’d just chosen to ignore the telltale signs of a problem person because she really had no other friends. She hoped that Lily may come around, that she’d get better and really try and make a go of things in an above board way, but with Gold there was no doubt as to the veracity of his threat. If he felt Emma was disloyal, he’d punish her, and if at the end of this there was any doubt that she’d turn on him, she would never be free. She had to be picture perfect in her actions. A pretty, polite prisoner who served their time and then kept silent. She was ready to do that, she just had to stick to her plan and keep her head up in the meantime.

As she made Mr. Black’s drink and got caught into the flow of the bar, serving men their beer and liquor until they all got drunk as hell, Emma counted down the seconds until the night would be over. She gathered her measly tips, and kept them guarded close, and she knew that tonight would be like every other. She was trapped here, in this darkness, destined to be unhappy but determined to survive. When she was free of this she’d go as far away from Gold’s hold as she could. She’d find a cabin somewhere, live a quiet kind of life, and she’d never put herself in this kind of position again. Her lesson had been learned – she could trust no one but herself, and though that was a totally lonely sensation, she had to try and accept it or risk hurting herself all over again down the line.

Suddenly, in the midst of the normal night’s activities, the front door blew open and Emma felt a tingling of anticipation when it did. She hadn’t looked in that direction all night long, never liking the people who would dare to enter here, but her instincts were screaming at her to turn around and look. She had no idea why, but when she obeyed the internal command, she was shocked into stillness, caught up in the sight of the man who’d just walked in.

Tall, dark, and fiercely handsome, this man was sin personified and so much better looking than the other thugs that came here every night. He didn’t look out of place though, aside from his attractiveness. The clothes he wore were made of leather and spoke to some dangerous intent. He made no show to hide the side arms he was carrying, one on his hip and one strapped across his chest, and the scowl on his face made him seem hard and unapproachable. For a moment, Emma had the chance to take him in, and despite the fierceness of his expression, she felt a flutter low in her stomach.

His chiseled jaw with the well-trimmed beard he had was hot, as was the symmetry of his features and the way his broad body clenched and she could see his muscles. But if someone were to ask her what stood out most about this mystery man it was his eyes. They were blue, like the ocean in places she’d only read about. They weren’t icy or cold, but warm somehow and so thoroughly enticing. She felt herself lost in them, and then he looked at her, their gazes connecting, and that sensation grew so much stronger. She felt a kind of pang echo through her ribcage the moment he took her in, and she watched as the hardness of his face shifted ever so slightly. It was a small tell, most people wouldn’t have noticed, but Emma did, and she knew that he felt this too. Whatever the hell this was – the man who’d just arrived was just as captive to it as she was.

“Ah, Captain, you’re here!” One of the regulars said, laughing and flailing about as only truly drunk men did. “Didn’t think we’d ever get you to The Lair. Thought you was too good for us.”

The man they called ‘Captain’ tore his gaze from Emma and moved over to the man who’d called him over. His stride was measured and almost graceful, and Emma couldn’t help but follow him with her eyes. This was so unlike her. She made it her business not to watch anyone too closely. The less she knew about what everyone was really up to the better, but she was intrigued by this newcomer in a way she’d never been before.

“Boss wants to see you, Alvin. Something about the McManus shipment.” Alvin blanched at the comment and swallowed harshly and Emma knew for certain that this man was in trouble with Gold. She didn’t have much sympathy for Alvin, and in fact most of her intention was focused on this stranger, who had the touch of an accent she couldn’t quite place. His voice was silky and low, tantalizing in a way, and she wanted to hear more of it. “Perhaps you’d like a drink for the road. Not sure when you’ll have the chance for another.”

“Bring them this,” Sydney said, materializing from nowhere next to Emma. She jumped at the unexpected intrusion into her thoughts, and looked at the two glasses.

“Is this rum?” she asked dumbly and Sydney nodded.

“The best. Captain likes the good stuff.”

“Right,” Emma said, moving over with the tray to the table where both men sat. When she got there, she was struck speechless again. Being so close to this man only added to the allure. He was even more interesting close up, and she lost her head a little bit at the sight of him, but tried to pull herself together as best he could. “Your drinks, gentlemen.”

Alvin took the drink and downed in, but the stranger took his time, glancing at her over the glass and nodding. He didn’t smile, but his eyes conveyed a warmth he’d shared with no one else here. “Thank you, love.”

Knowing she couldn’t linger, Emma moved back to the other tables, continuing her work, but when she noticed Alvin and the mysterious man standing up to go a few minutes later, she felt a dash of disappointment. He was leaving, and she didn’t even know his name.

Okay, seriously? What the hell Emma? He’s one of them. He works for Gold. You don’t care about him. You can’t care.

The voice in her head scolded her for her fanciful thinking and this completely mistimed attraction. It was so foolish to think of him as anything but a threat, but her heart lurched at the thought. She was overcome with these weird feelings. Being so drawn to a man so quickly had never been her style. Certainly not now when she was in survival mode. But as she turned around to fill a tray with empty glasses on one of the far tables, she felt a presence behind her. She whipped around too quickly, only to run into him, and if it hadn’t been for his steadying hands, one on her arm and the other on her tray, the glasses would have shattered.

“You all right, love?”

“Um,” she licked her lips as her eyes darted up to and she nodded once. “Yes. I’m fine.”

“Good. Just wanted to give you this,” he said, handing her a tip. It was generous. Like a couple hundred-dollar bills generous. It was way more than their drinks had been and way way more than she could ever accept. It felt wrong, but there was a part of her that was desperate to keep it. This would put her that much closer to freedom. It was almost a week she wouldn’t have to work. Still she pushed it back at him.

“I can’t. It’s too much.”

“It’s hardly enough,” he replied ardently and her brow furrowed as she looked at his face, the earnestness on it clear as day to her. “I know these men, love. There’s no way they give you what you’ve earned. Not tonight, not ever. So please, take it.”

“Okay,” she agreed after a moment’s hesitation, feeling gratified by the fact that she had earned this, even if he wasn’t the one who should have to pay. “Thanks…”

“Killian,” he filled in before she could decide to use the nickname that Alvin had called him by.

“Killian,” she repeated, tasting the name on her tongue and loving the way it felt as it passed through her lips. “I’m Emma, by the way.”

“Emma,” he replied with a grin that was there and gone so quickly she would have missed it as she blinked. As it was, she knew she saw it, and that look was even more breathtaking than the rest of him. No one had a right to be that sexy. No one. “Well, until next time, Emma.”

With that, he turned and walked away, cold and composed once more as he led Alvin out of the bar and headed off into the night. And though Emma knew very little about him, she had a feeling she’d just met someone very important. Through the mist of all the new emotions and excitement, she sensed, deep down, that this man – Killian – mattered, and that somehow, someway, their fates were intertwined, destined to lead them back to each other in one way or another.

Post-Note: So there we have it! This is a short glimpse into the fic, kind of like a prologue if you will. Next chapter will flash forward a bit, because this honestly was angsty enough for me to write. I do not want to dwell in the bad circumstances Emma finds herself in, and instead want to get us to a fluffier, if still a bit wilder place than I am used to. As the description says this will be an MC (motorcycle club) romance, and we’ll reveal how that will come to pass in the next few chapters. In the meantime, I would love to hear what you all think! This is a break away from my usual fare, and pretty much the opposite of the other fic I am currently writing, but I have wanted to write a story like this for a really long time. I’m eager to share the rest of this fic with you all, and hope you will join me on this fun new journey. Anyway, thanks for reading and hope you have a great rest of your day!

[cpinhais1920]

PINHAIS: A Testimony of A Living History

(Translated from Maria Martinho's article, edited by S. M. Amamangpang)

A stone's thrown from the sea, Matosinhos is the epicenter of the canning industry to the north of Portugal. In that area alone, 52 fish factories were installed, today only two remain and one of them is PINHAIS. The company was founded in 1920 by António Rodrigues Pinto Pinhal together with his brother Manuel Rodrigues Pinto Pinhal, natives of Espinho, who initially dedicated themselves to salting fish in a small warehouse, and Luíz Alves da Silva Rios, who is believed to have launched the challenge to the two fishing brothers to set up a company dedicated to the manufacture of canned fish, to which Luíz de Sousa Ferreira later joined. With the construction of the factory, the company started to produce canned sardines, mackerel and horse mackerel in olive oil, spicy olive oil, tomato and spicy tomato sauce. “We still maintain the original process. From the treatment of the fish to the packaging, everything is done by hand,” guarantees António Pinhal, grandson of the founder and currently responsible for the family business that is in the third generation.

He was only eight when he had his first memory linked to Pinhais. Hand in hand with his father, he saw trawlers loaded with fish arriving at Matosinhos pier on a Saturday morning. “I always did that at the weekend, it was happy to see the seagulls approaching, it was a sign that there was a lot of fish”, he tells The Observer. Later, he was in his fourth year in Economics at the University of Porto when his father asked him to work with him. “My cousin was his right hand, but he got sick and called me. I went to the auction to buy the fish, did the commercial and export part. Only when my cousin passed away did I join the staffs of the company directly and, as a working student, I finished the Economics course at night. ”

For a decade, António was responsible for carefully choosing the raw materials for preserves, a function that allows him to distinguish the quality of a sardine with the naked eye today. “The sardine caught at four or five in the morning is better than the hake at midnight, I can see that from the eyes, the gills and the scales”, he says, adding that it was also on the wooden base of the trucks used to transport the baskets of fish that could take the real test of the nine. “I would take the sardine and throw it to the wood, if it jumped it had been caught in the morning, if it was quiet it was because it had been caught earlier.”

When he finished his Economics course, he already had several job offers, but his father said: either the bank or the factory. “The bug got into me and I ended up staying here. I don't know if I did it right or wrong, but I don't regret it.”

While most canning companies have industrialized over the years, Pinhais has decided to remain faithful to artisanal production, despite the various crises. “There was a Portuguese olive oil supplier that sold the product much cheaper and one day he asked my father if he didn't want to buy a car, which at that time cost about 100 contos, with the money he saved. My father did not have a license nor did he know how to drive, so he refused.” It was like this for four years, until it was discovered that this oil was adulterated. “The containers that other firms distributed to the United States were recalled and the canning industry crisis started there.”

In 1935, Pinhais launched Nuri, a brand with the same products, but aimed at the international market. “One of the partners in the company was my uncle, a public relations person who spoke several languages. It was he who discovered the first international markets and when he went to Spain he met a very beautiful Spaniard named Nuri, that's how he decided to name the brand. ”

During the 40 years that he is at the helm of the canning industry, António Pinhal confesses that the most difficult moment was when the European Union's share of fishing emerged. The golden season in Matosinhos was from June to October, which forced the official to go buy fish in Sines, Peniche, Figueira da Foz, Spain or France. Nothing that would move him or make him lose his faith, after all the Pinhal family is deeply Catholic and in António's office are visible old cans, black and white photographs of the family, but also saints and candles.

“My father went to Mass twice a day and until three years ago we used to pray the rosary half an hour before the people left.” At 4:30 pm, someone put a cassette in the tape recorder and workers exchanged fish scissors for the rosary. “We stopped doing that when we hired people with other religions, it didn't make sense to be imposing that. It used to be different, people were more devout, especially when we talk about a fishing community. Times change and we have to accept those changes. ”

The fish arrives every morning through a special door, leaves the boxes and is immersed in an aluminum container in cold water and salt where the brine is given. “The large sardine is 40 minutes, the medium is 15 minutes, and the petinga, 5,” says António Pinhal. After this process, sardines, mackerel and horse mackerel are spread on large marble tables, where the head and the gut are removed with a small knife. "This is a normally mechanized process, but here we do it by hand to ensure that the gut comes out completely."

Headless and with a spine, the fish is placed one by one on a metal grid and dipped in a tank with cold water to remove the salt. The rooks loaded with fish are distributed in carts that enter a greenhouse at 100 degrees for 10 to 12 minutes. They come out of there hot and during the cooling process all the moisture and grease drain out. “Thus, both water and fat do not go into the can and oil, when added, turns yellow and not brown. This is one of our major differences from the competition,” explains António Pinhal.

It is only after this phase that the fish is placed in containers to then be cut by hand with scissors to fit in the can of preserves, which can then carry tomato sauce, cucumber, carrot or chilli pickles. In this assembly line, several employees dressed in white are seated in a row, from the cap to the wellies, passing through the waterproof apron. Many have their names written on the back and pillows to ensure comfort throughout the day.

Emília Vaz is in the section dedicated to homemade tomato sauce. She is 67 years old and is the oldest employee of Pinhais. She started at 18 and at the end of 2020, she will retire. With the reddish apron and the sweat on her forehead, she proudly shows the marks on her body that the years of work left him. “I've already cut myself on the toes with the cans and scalded my foot to make tomato sauce,” she says, adding that the factory is her second home and her colleagues are part of her family. She treats them by their first name and says she likes to teach those who arrive there for the first time. Among all, she is known as the “Emília da Afurada” (Emília, The Sharp). “In the past, I crossed the Douro in a small boat, but nowadays I take the bus to Boavista and then take the metro to get here.”

About 30,000 cans come out of Pinhais every day, essentially filled with sardines. There is no waste around here, proof of this is that the fish's head, tail and gut is sent to the flour industry to fertilize the soil and the remaining oil is supplied to the soap industry. On the mechanical mat, the cans stuffed with fish and other ingredients arrive in a veritable rain of Portuguese olive oil and are then closed by another machine. Still greasy, the closed can is washed in a tank with water at 100 degrees and sterilized for 60 minutes to eliminate any bacteria and will be packed by hand. Three months is the minimum time to stay in the warehouse to gain flavor, only after this period of maturation is the canned ready to go on its journey.

Célia Ferreira is responsible for the packaging department and in the 15-minute snack break she is the only one in the room to wrap cans of preserves. “I can eat at home,” she says, smiling, guaranteeing that she likes what she does. Her mother, aunts and cousins ​​passed through Pinhais, so it would be almost inevitable for Célia to also work at the Matosinhos factory, where 1,200 cans per day pass through her hands. The natural employee of Leça da Palmeira walks surrounded by cards and packages painted in yellow, green, red or blue and knows the destination of each one by heart. "These go to Australia, those to the United States and those to the Czech Republic.

In 2016, the Pinhal family sold its stocks to an Austrian agent, the current owner of the brand. “It was a decision motivated by the fishing crisis, there were no orders, we lacked liquidity and we thought it was necessary to take this step. He is a trustworthy person, he has worked with us since 1985, he belongs to a family business connected to cereals. At one time, he was our best customer, he represented more than 70% of our exports, and he became the only way to save this firm,” recalls António Pinhal. Despite the change, everything seems to have remained. “The only premise was to leave everything as it is.” Currently, Pinhais exports 90% of its production to countries such as Austria, the United States, the Philippines, Denmark or France. Here, the points of sale are limited to gourmet stores. “Quantity is not quality. We bet on quality, while in large stores we buy a can of sardines at 0.90 cents, ours costs € 2.50. The labor is very expensive, we work with 14 or 15 stages, the other factories have only three,” justifies António Pinhal.

Extending the range of products is not part of the brand's plans, which work on original marble tables from 1920 and see their work space limited to small fish. However, there is a need to bring something new to the market, so next year, Pinhais will use leftover sardines to market patês. The online store was launched just in time for the pandemic and in the summer of 2021 a live museum is expected on the factory premises, a project that has lived in the drawer for several years and bureaucracy has delayed. “We want to make it known what the tradition of the canning industry was, showing, at the same time, how we work.”

António Pinhal is not afraid of the future and says that only the pandemic forced small changes in the company, such as the acrylics arranged among the workers, a laboratory converted into a quarantine room and more mechanized transport processes. The grandson of the founder of Pinhais eats preserves religiously every Friday at lunch. “Canning tins are normally six years old as an expiration date, but my father always preferred old ones that were 15 or 20 years old. Every Friday at lunch he opens an old can, watched, smelled and asked me to eat a piece. After five minutes, if I didn't feel bad, I would eat it. It was your guinea pig and I thought it was funny. ”

Source:

(https://observador.pt/2020/09/13/conservas-pinhais-a-fabrica-onde-se-rezava-o-terco-e-hoje-se-canta-o-fado-enquanto-se-enchem-latas/)

[thatordinaryoddity]

UPDATE: Once In A Blue Goddamn Moon

a 💗 Jamie & Dani Fanfiction 💗 [The Haunting Of Bly Manor, Netflix 2020]

written by thatordinaryoddity

Rating: K+

Words: ~9,5k

Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Status: Complete (will be uploaded in three chapters + Prologue)

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27475423/chapters/67177879

FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13742358/2/Once-In-A-Blue-Goddamn-Moon

Summary: Jamie leaves Flora’s weeding more wrapped up in her thoughts than usual. In all those years, there hadn’t been a day without thinking of her deceased lover Dani. But sometimes, once in a blue goddamn moon, events coincide in an exceptional, odd way.

A/N: Hey there darlings! I hope you’re all doing well!

I’ve just managed to upload my fanfiction on AO3 and FF.net *yay*. In short, here’s the new update, have fun! Next chapter will be out tomorrow, same time, same place(s) - until then, stay awesome!

The Garden Above the City

____________________

 Jamie dropped off her luggage and went straight to the kitchen to get herself a cold, clear glass of water. Finally, after what felt like way more than an almost seven hour flight, she was in her usual environment again. To tell from the dawn outside the window, the day had just begun here in England since they had been on a nightplane. A little bit jetlagged, she pulled her cardigan tighter around her shoulders as she seated herself in the dark-green, cosy vintage loveseat. Like some sort of weird compulsion, she checked the water surface with every sip she took from her glass, hoping to see her reflection – as always, even after all this time, even after all this disappointing time.

In hope of getting some distraction from her train of thoughts, she grabbed the remote control for her radio and switched it on. Restless as the past few days had left her, she shifted around nervously on the seat, unable to find a comfortable way to sit. After a few fidgety minutes, the grey-haired woman gave up on finding any rest and decided to make herself a little something to eat instead. In the background, the music from the radio silenced to make room for the daily news. A female voice started talking:

And now to the weather forecast. This Friday autumn morning will be sunny in all parts of South England. It’s supposed to get cloudy with thunderstorms in the evening. Over the weekend, we expect rain in the greatest parts of Britain. Also, a rare Blue Moon will appear this weekend, coinciding with Halloween for the first time in more than 70 years. The full moon will rise in the east at 4.53 pm in the UK on Saturday, less than 20 minutes after the sun sets.

Jamie wasn’t even really listening. It was more like she heard the voice of the radio lady but couldn’t catch what she was saying. She was just tucked so far away in her own thoughts.

After she had eaten her breakfast and unpacked her suitcase, she decided to visit her favourite place in the world – Teddy’s little rooftop garden – one of the few things left to give her soul some comfort.

~

When Dani left all those years ago, Jamie had been unable to set another foot inside their florist’s shop back in America. Everything was connected to too many memories. There wasn’t a single spot where they hadn’t kissed. Sometimes, Jamie even came across a blonde hair here and there which would leave her as a sobbing wreck for the rest of the day.

She couldn’t even remember what she had been doing all day long during the first few weeks, if she had eaten or not, but she knew she hadn’t been sleeping for more than an hour at a time. She hadn’t even been able to bear collapsing into unconsciousness, because waking up from it to once again face her loss had been torture. She had begun to feel even worse since that one time she had gone to the shop, only to find all their plants dead due to the weeks of unintentional neglect. It hurt so much. All of it felt miserable.

After what had seemed like an eternity, some kind of inner healing had set in. Something inside her had told her she needed to move on. And although no hour had passed without her being reminded of that awful grief, Jamie had managed to move on one day. She had sold the flower shop and also her – their – flat, packed only the indispensables and booked a one way flight back to England. The woman had been aware that she couldn’t stay in America, in that cosy apartment, near the charming florist’s. It had been their dream, their life – and she would have perished had she stayed there.

Fortunately, she’d had some money left over from selling the flower shop and Henry Wingrave’s noble inheritance – he had sold all the antiquities and expensive, century-old furniture in Bly Manor to get rid of “all the old dust”. And since he was one of the only four people to remember what exactly had occurred at Bly Manor, he had decided to split the money between them as some sort of indemnity.

Back in Britain, Jamie had moved into a charming, suburban brick row house on the outskirts of a larger city. She’d been unable to bear living on the landside all alone because her own thoughts seemed too loud in all that silence. Likewise, living in the city centre had not been an option because the rush always unsettled her. Therefore, her current, modest accommodation had been just the right choice in her situation. Yet as the seasons had changed and one year had turned into two, the green-eyed woman had felt that something was missing inside her heart – the presence of a garden, of real flowers and plants. Since her row house didn’t have much more to offer than a few tiny window cills which were far too small to make a suitable home for all of her pot plants, Jamie had decided to search for something else. As luck would have it, she had found just what she had been looking for one day on the empty bus seat next to her while on her way home from grocery shopping. The forgotten newspaper on the seat right next to her had revealed just the right page of small ads:

Retired Gardener needs helping hand with his 40 sqm rooftop garden including a conservatory. All those interested please contact Theodore Campbell under ….

This ad had been more than just written words on the newspaper, it had been the beginning of something great, of something essential for the woman’s soul to find a little comfort and silence after all this time.

The years had gone by and turned her hair a steely gray, and she had gotten used to this new reality. Dani was never gone from her mind, not a single second, but it had become easier to live with all that screaming numbness inside her.

Theodore Campbell – Teddy – who suffered from multiple sclerosis and was confined to his wheelchair, had provided Jamie with so much love and understanding that he had become family to her. Truthful family, unlike those people who were related to her by blood. The elderly woman had shared her story with the old man and he had listened, understood, and remained silent when she had just needed to cry. Thus the little garden above the city had become not only a diversion, a pastime – but instead it had become home to her.

Teddy was 85 years old by now and Jamie visited him at least five days a week. Just as much as she saw him as a father, the old man loved Jamie like his own daughter. His wife had also passed away many, many years ago and the couple never had any children. Somehow, Teddy was a kind of role model for the green-eyed woman, because he himself had been through really hard times and yet, he always had a smile on his lips and another joke to tell every day. When his health began to deteriorate, he became reliant on his wheelchair, unable to attend to his gardening duties all by himself. Unwilling to give up the rooftop garden and sell it to someone who might just turn it into a rooftop terrace, he had place the ad in the newspaper.

Luckily, the pensioner was able to draw from his savings to pay for his treatments and special care, but with that burden and the rather lousy annuity a gardener gets, money was short nonetheless. Despite his financial status, he insisted to pay Jamie for her help, but she had always declined. His company and the garden had always been more than enough compensation for her. That, and the afternoon tea with shortbread biscuits, of course.

~

“It’s fine Teddy, I’ll get it,” the elderly woman put away her gardening gloves as the doorbell rang. The passionate gardener had spent almost the whole day on the rooftop, nurturing the plants and flowers with care and dedication, as she had been away for almost one week. Utterly absorbed in her work, she hadn’t even noticed that the sun was setting.

“Good evening Madam, trick or treat,” three colourfully dressed up children stood outside the door, gleefully grinning and bursting with excitement.

“Oh hi there, I love your costumes, you’re all exceedingly spooky! Let me see what the secret sweets stash has to offer!” Jamie smiled back at them, rushed into the kitchen, grabbing a handful of chocolate bars and handed each kid a few of them.

At the back of her head, she remembered the radio announcement about Halloween and the occurrence of the rare blue moon this night. If the kids hadn’t turned up in their costumes, she wouldn’t even have recalled that tonight was Halloween. She hardly attributed any importance to holidays like this, always assuming them to be a day like any other, but unbeknownst to her, this Halloween would turn out to be a very special one.

Without the sunlight warming her in the chilly autumn breeze, Jamie decided to lay her work on the rooftop garden down for the day and put on some good night tea for Teddy and herself.

“Ah thank you my dear, you are truly an angel!” Teddy said gratefully, as he took the hot tea mug from her. “You care to join me for a while?” The old man had hoped to be able to spend some time with her because he had noticed that something was especially strange since the moment she entered his apartment this day. Since she had returned from her trip to America for the wedding ceremony, Jamie seemed to be more absent-minded than usual.

“Would you mind if I go outside to the garden? The moon is so pretty tonight and I just want to admire it for a little bit on my own.” With a faint smile she placed her hand on the old man’s shoulder, trying to let him know that he needn’t worry. With a soft nod, he accepted her wish.

The sun had set entirely by now and the clear sky was embellished with its shiny stars already. The full moon tinted the rooftop with all the plants in a pale, silvery light. Despite her brown turtleneck pullover, made from very warm and soft linen, the elderly woman slightly shivered in the cold night air. Nevertheless, she sat down on the iron garden bench, wrapping her elegant, slender fingers tighter around the warm mug. With every sip, the warmth of the tea seemed to spread inside her body, stopping her from freezing any longer. The night was so very calm, and soon, her heavy thoughts, too, appeared to fall silent. Before she knew it, sleep somehow overcame her after a day of hard work and all the mental tension over the past week.

Jamie woke up, trying to figure out where she was for a moment. She didn’t know how long she’d been sleeping there, outside, on the cold iron stand of the garden bench. But somehow, her surroundings appeared to be ghostly silent and the cold night suddenly seemed very mild, more like a summer night really. There wasn’t a noise to hear, not even some distant hustle of traffic, not even the wind playing with the leaves of the plants. The green-eyed woman felt uneasy, odd, somehow dizzy. With one last glance upon the sky to the gorgeous moon in all its glory, she went towards the door leading inside. Suddenly, she was interrupted by a voice. A voice, so obviously real and present, that denying it or blaming it on the wind would have been utterly pointless:

“Jamie...”

She was thunderstruck. It was as if all her body cells, every membrane and every fiber froze to ice. A cold sensation rushed through her body from head to toe, leaving every inch of her electrified. This voice – could it be real? Was it another dream? Suddenly, she heard it again, louder this time, but with the same fragile gentleness.

“Jamie...”

The elderly woman didn’t even dare to turn around, she was literally frozen. A sudden gasp escaped her lungs, when she felt a soft touch on her shoulder. She squinted her eyes, trying to wake up from what she believed to be a dream, but the touch tightened.

[deepestdarkestsickestpartsofu]

Introduction

We met in spring of 2017. He changed my life forever, in a way that I will never be able to explain. What I would want you to understand before reading this, is how much love has taken charge of my feelings and impulses. 

I loved him, I love him. 

Nothing he did will ever change that.

At this point I bet you may be wondering who I am. Right... I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Nadir, a 25 year old man that is attracted to other men, but that’s not the most significant part in the story. I grew up in a quiet conservative town in Michigan, with a small population of less than 5,000 people. My mother is pretty old schooled and forced me to stay in school until I graduated. That meant no ‘girlfriends’, no sleepovers, no working. I always had the desire to help her monetarily by getting a job and at least pay the house bills. However she would constantly say to me to just focus on my studies and that would be what would help us in the long run.

My parents are originally from Israel. My mother grew up as Catholic, which was not the usual back then and my father grew up Jewish. They became less religious when they decided to move to the United States, which is where they had my siblings and I. They both lived here as immigrants and I didn’t understand what that meant when I was a child, I just thought we were like any other family living in the US. My father unfortunately passed away from a heart attack when I was 8 years old and it affected me in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine. During his wake, I didn’t cry. It was all so surreal and I felt like he would wake up randomly and claim that everything was a joke. He had a great sense of humor and always managed to make people smile, however his death wasn’t a joke. Once it was time to bury him, I cried as hard as I could since I knew I wouldn’t see him ever again. After that, my mother worked as hard as she could to give my siblings and I what we needed. She could barely afford to pay for the mortgage on the house until my older brothers started working and helping her out with as much as they could. My mother worked two jobs daily to make sure we had food on our table, clothes and a good education. 

It would hurt me to see her stress about providing for us, so eventually I managed to get a scholarship at San Francisco State University. Being the youngest of 4 children gave me a bit of an advantage to enjoy ‘the beauty of freedom’ as we know it now, and not have to struggle about being gay in the 70′s, not that it’s any different now. I mean there are hate crimes all over, shootings that keep getting more common by the minute and discrimination which is still pretty big now. That is one of the reasons why I decided not to come out to my mother, nor anyone in town for that matter. I was already struggling with self-acceptance and I didn’t want to be a burden to my mother. During my senior year of High School I managed to convince my mother to let me work to save up for essential stuff. I began working at a pharmacy and little by little saved up enough money to leave town and follow my dreams in a career I wanted. I wasn’t certain of what my major would be, however it needed to be in the art field. Whether it would be acting, directing, drawing or video editing. I decided to go with the flow and see what would appeal my interest. I wanted to be able to afford a place in ‘The City’, so working at that little pharmacy helped me save up & I also had a job secured so I would be able to help my mother with her expenses from afar. 

It took me a few months but right before spring classes started, I booked the first plane to San Francisco without looking back. My siblings showed up with my mother to the airport. Elijah, the oldest, was a bit of a role model growing up. He got married at 22, had 2 children and joined the police force. Amir, the second to oldest, was always a jokester which he definitely got from my father,  and had a bit of a ‘bad boy’ complex, which is quite the opposite of Elijah. He never got married, which my mother never agreed with, however he did have 3 kids, all with different women. Last but not least, my sister Hadassah, she was only 3 years older than me and I guess you could say we were the closest. Both of us would take care of my mom as much as possible and help her around the house as much as it was possible. She decided to stay in a community college to be closer to my mother and to help her financially as much as she possibly could. I hugged everyone goodbye, but when I got to my mother I couldn’t hold it in much longer. Tears started pouring down my face as I hugged her, but managed to remind her that this wasn’t a goodbye, but a ‘see you later’. I wish I could’ve come out to her, but I was afraid it would devastate her and we might lose the relationship we had built. As cliche as it sounds, she is my best friend, the person I trust the most in this world. I was considering staying as I hugged her. She pulled away and put our foreheads together. 

“You’ll be fine... You’ve got this! And remember einayim sheli, you’re stronger than you think! I’ll be supporting you from afar! Nothing you could do would ever disappoint me”.

“I love you mom. Don’t worry, I’ll send money your way and I’ll be back during the holidays!”

“You better, my dear! Now go, don’t want you to miss your flight”, she said as she hugged me once again.

Her words gave me enough courage to pick up my stuff and board the plane. I turned back once more before heading to the ramp and saw my siblings & her waving at me. Hadassah was hugging my mother and even though she was trying to stay as strong as possible, I saw tears rolling down her face. She noticed that I saw them and immediately wiped them off with a smile. I always admired how strong of a woman she is. She truly is a role model and someone I look up to as to how to live my life. However, I’ve never been as strong so I couldn’t hold back and started crying as I boarded the plane. 

The flight felt eternal and having anxiety didn’t help at all. I quit medication a few months before leaving since I didn’t think I would need it… Boy, was I wrong. I managed to calm myself down by working on some sketches I’ve been doing on my drawing paper pad. Next thing I knew, I was arriving in San Francisco, California; Population: 883,305, well... I guess now it’s 883,306 residents. I wasn’t necessarily going into San Francisco completely helpless, I was moving in with my best friend. I met Marcia in elementary school. Her father Sebastiao works for the government, and that’s as much as I know about him. That and the fact that he had to move to San Francisco due to a “really good job opportunity”.  Her father is originally from Brazil & his wife, Mayra is Mexican-American. Marcia grew up and learned all three languages, English, Spanish & Portuguese so she was able to fit in easier in “The Bay Area” when they left our little town. We would spend hours on the phone after she moved and she would tell me about San Francisco and how she thought I’d love it. She was honestly afraid to be one of those kids whose parents have to move regularly because of their jobs, but lucky for her, she didn’t have to do that. She set up a high bar for me arriving in San Fran and when I did... Well, let’s just say she didn’t disappoint. Her dad bought her an apartment and she was willing to share it with me at no cost, but I already had plans of helping her out with utilities & give her some extra cash to thank her for sharing her apartment with me. She shared her apartment with two puppies, Chuy & Elena, two small pomeranians whom she considered her children since she wasn’t planning on having any kids. When I told her I had gotten a scholarship to SF State, she immediately suggested I should move in with her. I wasn’t too sure of that idea, but it honestly was the best option I had so far.

I finally get my luggage and sit in the lobby to wait for her. I look around and see a lot of people meeting up with their loved one, whether it is their lover, or family. “You just left your family back there. You won’t even make it here nor achieve anything you had your mind set to. This is truly a bad idea. Why are you even doing here? You’re an idiot for leaving! All for some stupid experiment you want to try? Bullshit!”. I close my eyes and take another deep breath. I then feel my phone vibrate with the following text message:

“I see you!”

I looked up and saw her smile. She hadn’t grown much, stood about 5′6, black, curly shoulder-length hair, light skinned, with dorky glasses. People always claimed she was a weirdo, but who am I to judge? I was a bit taller than her, stood about 6′1, a bit of scruff on my face, brown semi clean-cut hair. I was always the weird kid at school, so we managed to click from the very beginning. She was the first person to talk to me in elementary school, and that meant the world to me. I was always a bit of an introvert, however she helped me come out of my shell little by little and when she left, I fell back into it. 

“Marcia! Babe! I’m so happy to see you!”

I ran to her and hugged her. It felt like yesterday that I had said goodbye to her at the airport. 

“Honeeeeey! Ugh, I’m soooo glad to see you! You smell soooo good! Don’t tell me you’re still into buying or should I say, collecting colognes?”

“Guilty!”

“Well then, you just might like what I have for you at home! Let me help you with your bags! I can’t wait for you to FINALLY meet Chuy & Elena! They’re going to LOVE you! My tia is still pretty mad that I named Elena after her, but she should take it as a compliment! It just means I love her! I mean, dogs are your most loyal companions... Not that she was ever loyal to my uncle, but still! I’m telling you, my little Elena is NOTHING like her!” 

I looked at her in disbelief. She still had that smile and a gleam in her eye. She had always had that hopeful gleam in her eye... Something I had lost a long time ago. 

I hated it.

“I’ll kill if I have to, but I’ll regain that hope again, just wait”

[parabcllums]

 ⧼   tati gabrielle, cis female, she & her   /   overprotected by britney spears   +   an endless stretch of white sand beaches and the overwhelming smell of the ocean.  glossy lips and trademark pout, faux fur jackets over white denim jeans and a set of freshly done baby pink stiletto heels, making your daily life more difficult than it needs to be. an expensive bunch of flowers delivered early every morning and left inside a crystal vase.    ⧽   ━━   let me tell you a thing or two about CHARLOTTE “LOTTIE” OLIVIA BLAIRE. the TWENTY THREE year old daughter of ALISON BLAIRE & WARREN WORTHINGTON III is an UNDERGRAD student at paragon academy and CELEBRITY YOGA INSTRUCTOR in town, and has sometimes been referred to as THE BRAINLESS BEAUTY. they’ve always seemed very WHIMSICAL & VIVACIOUS, though i’ve heard that they can be pretty SCATTERBRAINED & CONCEITED too. it’s common knowledge that they have the powers of ( UNDEVELOPED ) LIGHT MANIPULATION [ CAPABILITIES: EMOTION BASED LUMINESCENCE ( SHE GLOWS ) & PHOTOKINETIC FLIGHT ] ; guess we shouldn’t get on their bad side, huh? redirect to her stats page HERE and her pinterest board HERE.

 she’s like a DREAM GIRL ;             and i think a dream girl should live in a dream world.

SECTION ONE OF THREE : BULLET POINT HISTORY.

charlotte olivia blaire, soon to be known more widely as LOTTIE, was born on october 5th, 1996, in new york city. she’s the eldest of four children born to alison blaire & warren worthington iii, her younger siblings being madeleine eliza, gabrielle louisa and sebastian warren. 

for several years, lottie didn’t have to be exceptional to be her parents favorite. they didn’t have any other KIDS for a while, so she really only ever had to be herself ; and that was enough. she got used to being spoiled rotten ( both her parents were rich in their own right, so it wasn’t as if she ever had to worry for anything ), but there wasn’t REALLY an alternative to that. when you only have one kid to focus all your attention on and go all out for during birthdays and the holidays... they end up a little spoiled. 

alison and warren largely kept lottie out of the public eye, for the first six years of her life. they’d go so far as to throw a towel over her head when they were carrying her across the tarmac to a private jet, even ; and it was all in the name of good. they didn’t want her to be torn apart by GOSSIP magazines before she was old enough to really comprehend them, and aside from a few pictures ( one toddler breakdown was caught in full by a member of the paparazzi, and the family got a nice settlement when legal action was taken against the magazine that published the photos ), she was pretty well sheltered. i’d go so far as to call that lottie as a whole ; SHELTERED.

all bets were not completely off with the births of madeleine and gabrielle, per say ; but alison and warren DID mellow out some, taking the kids for days out to disneyland, etc, and only keeping them all covered up as long as they were push chair bound. lottie very quickly became something of a little darling. she had always been the sort of kid who got distracted doing something as mundane as talking to her mom by catching her own reflection over alison’s shoulder and having to really look at herself ; she LOVED having cameras pointed in her direction, and she played up to them quite well. the media circus went wild the very first time she looked directly at them and did a little twirl, her smile huge and gap toothed, her ending a cutesy wave. if she knew she had an AUDIENCE, she did the most to make it worth their while.

lottie was definitely the one most obsessed with the idea of following in her mothers footsteps. unfortunately, it was very obvious from a time she was very young that she couldn’t hold a tune to save her LIFE, but nothing was more sure to her as she grew than the fact that if she had gotten nothing else, she had gotten ALL the looks. it didn’t take very much twisting of their arms to allow her pursue a child model career, something that was obviously going to bring her joy ( in turn, something they wouldn’t deny her ). lottie was a natural. she had her own tween clothing brand. she had offers from across the globe to shoot pictures for different products. once in a while, you might get the jingle from one such advertisement that she was the face of stuck in your head, even today.

she was fifteen when all bets really WERE off, for good, and wingin’ it with the worthingtons became reality tv’s new trump card. her parents really did not need the money, but... after much discussion, they couldn’t argue the fact that it would give mutants as a whole the kind of media exposure that they’d never really HAD before. through wiwtw, they were able to show themselves as a family. sure, it was dramatic at times ; but they were able to be a really positive influence on the public’s opinion of mutants, and they really did feel as if they were having a direct hand in forming a new, humanized VIEW of their kind in the minds of people who had never really had such a thing, before.

lottie LOVED it, and that should really come as zero surprise. she loved the attention, mostly, and was an active part of social media from then onwards - live tweeting their episodes, doing instagram advertisements for the newest fads, interacting with people on her level. she was not the smartest of people, and that shone through on the families show regardless of whatever script guide they had ( sure they’d deny it, but... that didn’t stop it from existing ), but... lottie wasn’t offended when people turned something she had said or something she had done into a viral meme. she wasn’t hurt when a row of comments beneath something she had tweeted were largely rude. she really was the sort of person who thought ‘all attention is good attention’.

wingin’ it with the worthingtons ( a very ironic title for a show comprised mostly of blaire’s ) took up a lot of time, but nothing REALLY changed in terms of how their lives were lead. the families time had always been largely split between wherever either parent had to be for BUSINESS, and their home in gardendale. really, it just meant they got to spend even more time together, and even more time closer to the school for gifted youngsters that was somewhat a home to all of them. lottie loved traveling when she was a child, far more than she enjoyed being in one place ; but she was not a history buff, per say, or even largely interested in the TOURIST side of new cities. it wasn’t a huge loss to her, not to be in a new city each month.

really ; lottie’s life has been quite ordinary, in the sense of... it’s entirely ordinary in HER eyes, and probably the least bit so for everybody else. she’s never faced all too much, and counts winning celebrity love island season 9 as her greatest achievement. 

SECTION TWO OF THREE : HEADCANONS

lottie isn’t really very intelligent, at least in terms of... book smarts and street knowledge. she’s been very sheltered in her life, and she’s never really had to try very hard - her looks have gotten her far, and she scraps by in school enough that it’s never been too much of an issue. she’s quite self aware, but she isn’t very bothered by the fact. in lottie’s eyes, making fun of her for such a thing ( which is something she’s no stranger to ) is more a cheap shot than anything else, and she’s never been the kind to think too deeply on it.

she attended xavier’s school for gifted youngsters... fairly sporadically, really. it was where her parents thought she BELONGED, and she never argued the fact with them - it was certainly easier than many of the alternatives - but... she also never went there with any real desire to be a future member of the x-men, and she’s always felt that’s pretty much the only reason to ATTEND xavier’s. she switched to private education for a few years while she was focusing on her own career, but she’s attending paragon academy now as a kind of ‘break’ following last years love island win, mostly to regroup and decide what she wants to pursue next. 

she has a very interesting mutation, with a lot of potential - but she’s never really cared to... develop it, much. lottie has light manipulation, and all that REALLY gives her is the ability to fly ( through the manipulation of light ) and, tragically - emotion based luminescence. in layman's terms, lottie involuntarily glows based on the strong emotions that she’s feeling at any one time. if she’s good and angry, she glows literal red. passionate, purple. happy? green. maybe she’d have more desire to learn how to use her gift if she didn’t feel like a mood ring 70% of the time. 

madeleine "ellie” eliza blaire is fifteen years old and the smartest of all the worthinton-blaire children, by a LONGSHOT. when she’s older, she’s gonna do something incredible, like... cure cancer, or reinstate pluto as a planet. she and lottie have a complicated dynamic, in that... they love each other, greatly, but are huge sources of frustration to the other. ellie finds lottie to be quite dense ( no arguments ), and though on the flip side, lottie is always REALLY impressed by her sisters intelligence... she also finds her to be kind of a know it all. it’s a classic case of neither of them really understanding one another. lottie loves to play up to the cameras, and ellie mostly lurks in the background ( one time taking a stand and wearing a hoodie she had made herself saying she didn’t consent to the use of her image on tv ). while they’d absolutely go to the ends of the earth for one another, they have no interest in BEING like the other, and they aren’t the sort of sisters who share everything and get along 100% of the time. ellie is the only child to have the actual worthington wings - they’re as tall as she is and feathered, though rather than being white, they have a distinct baby blue tint. 

gabrielle “abbie” louisa blaire is twelve, and has more ambition than anyone lottie’s ever met - and the intelligence to get herself where she wants to be. while she’s far more like charlotte than anyone else is ( they’re both far too invested in their looks, for one, and have a GENUINE interest in what the gossip magazines are saying most days ), she’s also sharp as a tack and incredibly driven. she and lottie get along the best, and there’s little that lottie loves more than helping her little sister do her makeup or choose an outfit ; she doesn’t feel threatened by her in the least, but she does kind of understand why their parents were so reluctant to allow her get started at the offset. she’s definitely not the type to try and dissuade abbie from doing anything she wants to, but she does think it would have been nice for her to be young for a little bit longer. as the only child to INHERIT their mothers voice, her goal is to find stardom before she turns fourteen ; she’ll probably get there, given that she’s currently competing on ‘the voice kids’. 

sebastian “bash” warren blaire is seven, and alison and warren’s only son. given that there’s the LARGEST gap between him and lottie, they wouldn’t be classed as the closest of siblings - but lottie loved when he was a baby, and taking care of him was where she found her love of babysitting, in general. it’s not a very noble job, but what about it, right? bash is definitely the child where all the rules and regulations that the other three had lived through went out the window. his birth announcement ( including a picture of his sleeping self ) was the most liked picture on instagram the year that he was born ( though it lost its crown not too far into the new year ), and he’s had his own youtube channel since he was five - reviewing toys, mostly, but it’ll eventually evolve into video games at the rate he’s going. he boasts the LARGEST collection of funko pop toys out of anyone he knows, and has two whole rooms dedicated to his things. he’s probably the most spoiled out of all four of the siblings, but they all sort of willfully allow it. his mutation hasn’t shown itself, yet, but he’ll probably work out a way to make himself tik tok relevant using it when it does.

SECTION THREE OF THREE : WANTED CONNECTIONS 

i don’t have many wrote up yet so please... stick w me.

she definitely has friends from xavier’s, given that she attended the school - but i imagine they vary in terms of... closeness and also, vibe. there’s probably people who find her endearing, but there’s also definitely people who aren’t really her friend and can’t be classed it. any and all xavier’s connects u can think of, including close friends, mutuals, enemies and exes, are open ! 

give me two people who r like... her gretchen weiners and regina george. they’re definitely not real friends, but they’re as rich as one another and as used to a life of comfort as one another, so they FEEL like shared life experience dictates what they shld be. it’s very surface level and they probably talk shit abt each other ( or at the very least abt lottie, but i don’t take that personal ) all the time.

one person who’s genuinely... nothing like her. think AIMEE & MAEVE from sex education, as the insp. lottie is quite shallow and naive, but they’re much more gritty and knowledgeable. their friendship is genuine and they care about her a lot and vice versa, but maybe they don’t spend much time together in public for whatever reason.

exes! flings! etc. lottie has quite a few, i imagine

LOTTIE BLAIRE, our TATI GABRIELLE fc, is looking for her EX FIANCÉ connection who looks like LUCIEN LAVISCOUNT, GEORGE MACKAY, SANTIAGO SEGURA, ANY MALE / MALE ALIGNED FC who is 22+. you DO have to contact prior to applying at PARABCLLUMS or DISCORD. ( just over a year ago, lottie won celebrity love island season nine [ winter edition ] with her partner, after a highly dramatic season full of both... wicked betrayals and widely memed moments. they both coupled up and uncoupled a few times with other islanders, before they became a fan favorite pair about... midway through the show. definitely had a 'sex outside of the hideaway' scandal. definitely talked at length about how the other was the 'ONE', for them. when they were announced the winners, one of them proposed live on air and they seemed set to be the next it couple born from the reality tv show. they did some joint interviews, they were pictured together all of the time, their social medias were absolutely FULL of one another... and then, just after it was announced in a gossip mag that lottie was set to do celebrity say yes to the dress [ and yes, probably don't tell the bride ], they announced their split and broke hearts all over the world. don't confuse this with the level of emotionally charged connect we are all used to. i think it could be really fun ! very diff ! lots of headcanon possibility and lots of drama openings ! but definitely... so funny. ideas for parents wld be... emma frost & namor, patricia walker, bruce wayne, ryoko sabuki, janet van dyne & hank pym, tony stark & pepper potts, t'challa, shuri... anyone p influential / rich tbh! )

[jewelhouseblog-blog]

Is predicting the gold price is right?

It is baffling now and again to see the consideration concentrated on expectations at the cost of gold. The more electrifying and fabulous the value gauge, the more noteworthy the discord.

It merits investigating a couple of these forecasts to help put things in context.

Feature: Gold Forecast $6000, And Gold Mining Analysis Through Visualization 23Jan2012

Statement: "If the present gold buyer showcase was to follow the planning and degree of the 70s positively trending business sector, the gold cost would reach $6000 before 2014."

Gold cost on 23Jan2012: $1679.00 per oz.

Gold cost on 14Mar2014: $1382.00 per oz.

Gold cost on 31Dec2014: $1181.00 per oz.

How distant base can a value forecast be? Not exclusively did gold not arrive at the objective value, it went the other way - starting that equivalent month - and continued to decrease by 30% throughout the following two years, finishing at $1205.00 per ounce on December 31, 2013.

The issue isn't the credibility of $6000.00 gold. It is truly conceivable, and conceivable; possibly likely. Nonetheless, the forecast was explicitly time arranged and horribly misconceived regarding bearing and timing.

All that is forgivable. Except if you are the owner of a membership administration as well as making speculation suggestions to other people, or administering exchanging guidance.

Feature: JPMorgan Forecasts Gold $1,800 By Mid 2013 01Feb2013

Quote:"JPMorgan Sees Gold At $1,800 By Mid 2013 As South Africa "In Crisis" And "Heightening Instability" In Middle East J.P. Morgan Chase and Co. said gold will ascend to $1,800 an ounce by the center of 2013, with the mining business in South Africa "in emergency," as indicated by Bloomberg."

The cost of gold on the date the feature showed up was $1667.00 per ounce. After five months on June 29, 2013, the cost of gold was $1233.00 per ounce.

The call for $1800.00 gold was a 'sheltered' forecast. Just an eight percent expansion from the current (at that point) level of $1667.00 would have brought about a gold cost of $1800.00.

In any case, as in the past model, the cost went south intensely; this time dropping twenty-six percent in five brief months.

Feature: Trump Win Signals $1,500 Gold... 10Nov2016

Statement: "A Trump US presidential triumph signals US$1,500 an ounce for gold... in the middle of the road term."

Gold cost on 10Nov2016: $1258.00 per oz.

Gold cost on 31July2017: $1268.00 per oz.

Evidently gold didn't see the 'signal' since its present value is almost indistinguishable from its cost on the day the forecast showed up in print soon after the races last November.

What's more, what does the essayist mean by "transitional term"? The more drawn out the time span, the less incentive in the forecast. The anticipated dollar increment adds up to 20%. In the event that it takes two years, that adds up to about 10% every year. All things considered - or in the event that it takes longer than two years - is it worth the intense face feature?

Feature: Trump to Send Gold Price to $10,000 10Nov2016

Gold costs and dates are equivalent to in the above model. With gold right where it was ten months back, when may we anticipate some advancement towards that value objective?

The more amazing value expectations generally base on a breakdown or breakdown of the fiscal framework. The breakdown happens because of complete renouncement of the U.S. dollar following quite a while of worth deterioration. Individuals basically decline to acknowledge and hold U.S. dollars in return for their offered merchandise and enterprises.

Presently assume around then you possess gold. Okay sell it? At what cost? For what number of useless U.S. dollars would you part with an ounce of gold?

On the off chance that somebody offered you one billion imposing business model dollars for an ounce of gold today, OK take it? What about ten billion?

Alright, so imagine a scenario where we see a sharp decrease in the estimation of the U.S. dollar throughout the following quite a long while? Lets state that decrease adds up to a misfortune in obtaining influence for the dollar of 50% from current levels. This would compare to a gold cost of roughly $2500.00 per ounce, a multiplying from current levels.

This is substantial if gold and the U.S. dollar are at harmony as of now (I think they are). At the end of the day, the present cost of gold at $1250/60 is a precise impression of the total decrease in the estimation of the U.S. dollar since 1913.

The 50% decrease in the buying intensity of the U.S. dollar would be reflected in more significant expenses for different merchandise and enterprises; an example which has gotten very natural in the course of the last one hundred years.

In the event that there is a working business sector, and expecting you sell some gold and take benefits, what amount more will it cost for whatever else you may choose to purchase? Do you truly figure you will have the option to purchase different things of significant worth at 'limited' costs around then?

Gold, in 1913, was $20.00 per ounce. As of now it is $1260.00 per ounce. That is an expansion of more that sixty-overlay. However, it doesn't speak to a benefit. Since the general value level of products and enterprises today - as a rule - is multiple times higher than it was in 1913.

There are times when you can benefit from sharp moves in gold in momentary circumstances. By and large, these are simply before significant developments in its U.S dollar value that mirror an acknowledgment of the total decrease in buying intensity of the dollar. Also, to a lesser degree, perceiving when the desires for others take the gold value well past harmony versus the U.S dollar.

In 1999/2000 gold hit value lows of $250-275.00 per ounce. Before long it left on 10 years since quite a while ago run coming full circle in a pinnacle cost of near $1900.00 per ounce in 2011.

After its top in 2011, gold declined throughout the following five years to a low of simply above $1000.00 per ounce. A fleeting bounce back in mid 2016 took it back to approach current levels ($1250-1350.00) where it has for the most part stayed without separating either or down to any huge degree.

Where were every one of these 'specialists' in 1999/2000 and what were they foreseeing at that point?

Furthermore, since 2011/2012? They have been stating essentially something very similar again and again. Purchase now! Purchase more! Before it's past the point of no return!

At some point, it will be past the point of no return. Be that as it may, it is more a matter of budgetary endurance now than any other time in recent memory. The fixation on benefits, foreseeing and exchanging has darkened the genuine essentials.

What's more, somehow, a great many people's benefits are probably going to go up in smoke before they do anything significant with them.

Gold - physical gold - is genuine cash. It is genuine cash since it is a store of significant worth. Also, its worth is steady. The U.S. dollar's worth keeps on declining after some time. The continually declining estimation of the U.S. dollar and individuals' impression of it, just as their desires for it, decide the cost of gold.

Swelling is a treacherous risk to our money related and monetary security. It has been foisted upon us to the point that we are at risk of losing substantially more than the estimation of our cash. The capital markets are confronting dangers of gigantically more noteworthy extent than those of 2008-09. Monetary movement is basically financed by credit and we are snared on the medication of cash and more significant expenses - for everything. We are told regularly that swelling is unconstrained and that we should figure out how to manage its belongings. That isn't valid.

Swelling is purposeful and drilled by governments and national banks the world over. Also, its belongings are capricious and dangerous. Also, the impacts of swelling are total; consequently, they will, in general, be increasingly unpredictable, continuous. Also, covered underneath the entirety of the surface shortcomings is the phantom of fragmentary save banking. It is the authorized form of Ponzi conspire.

If you to exact price of gold in Chandigarh you can visit the following link

>>>> Gold price in Chandigarh.

[madamehearthwitch]

After Rapture Pet Care

American christians are wild y'all.

https://twitter.com/chick_in_kiev/status/1114391567572393984

Dear Fellow Christian:

As the Apostle Paul describes in Thessalonians as quoted above, at some point in the future Jesus will come in the air, catch up the Church from the earth, and then return to heaven with the Church. This is known as the Rapture and it will be glorious. But what of our pets? Who will take care of our pets when we’re gone?

I’d like to help answer that question. First, let me tell you a story.

The After The Rapture Pet Care Story

The idea came from seeing someone else’s joke. An atheist created a site in England that said she’d take care of Christian-owned pets after the Rapture, and asked for 70 pounds as a “donation.” She promoted it as a joke, and it virally made the rounds amongs non-believers who enjoy making fun of Christians. My husband saw it (he’s an Internet geek) and told me about it. Admittedly, it seemed funny. I told my friend, Carol, who is not a Christian, and she brought up a question: “Hey, if you get raptured, what happens to Petey?” It was an excellent question, and I didn’t have an answer.

A couple weeks later Carol came back and suggested we start After The Rapture Pet Care together. She said she had asked several Christian friends the same question she’d asked me, and every one of them would pay for a service to ensure the care of their pets after the Rapture. I had also asked some fellow Christians their thoughts. In every case they wished there was a way to prepare for their pets’ survival.

I agreed – it’s a real concern, and a legitimate concern. Our pets are given to us by God for us to care for. We are stewards of their lives. Should we simply forget them at the Rapture, allow them to starve or worse?

While planning our system, we thought about the stories of pet rescues in New Orleans after Katrina. Imagine how many more pets would have been saved if there had been a database of pets and volunteers activated immediately. This is something we could do for Christian owned pets.

Carol began recruiting other non-Christian animal lovers nationwide to volunteer to take care of left-behind pets if the Rapture occurs. As a Christian, my role has been to put together a program that is Biblically appropriate and provides true value to Christians. I believe we’ve come up with a plan that is affordable, unique, Biblical and practical.

We have created a database structure that is stored on multiple secure servers, with multi-location online and offline password-protected backups. While I don’t intend to be here when the Rapture occurs, we are building a network of non-Christians who have agreed to rescue and care for our members’ pets if we all disappear.

Yes, it seems funny at first. But, if you believe there is a coming Rapture, and you love your pets, it becomes serious. And that’s what we are – serious about the safety and care of your pets, as well as your peace of mind.

Here’s where our story lead from there:

  › We started with a monthly fee, and people accused us of running a scam of some sort.

  › We wanted to eliminate that stumbling block, so we tried having the registry be free and using Google Adsense and other ways to bring some money in to pay our expenses.

  › Then, a lot of anti-Christian jerks started submitting fake memberships and cluttering up our database.

So we have settled on charging a one-time 10 dollar registration fee to discourage fake sign-ups, while being only a small amount for serious people. You will never pay another dime, your information is kept secure (never ever shared with anyone outside our organization), and you have peace of mind.

This is what will happen for all pets registered with us immediately after the Rapture:

Our non-Christian administrators will activate our rescue plan.

Volunteers will be alerted immediately by email and telephone that they have been activated.

Pets will be assigned to our Volunteer Pet Caretakers based upon location and other factors.

Our administrators and Volunteer Pet Caretakers will do whatever it takes to find and rescue your pets. If your pet has a location chip, they’ll use that, or they’ll go to every location you’ve registered with us, and, if your pets are not at one of those locations, they’ll search for your cars as well as stay in contact with the local pet shelters. If they are unable to reach a Volunteer Caretaker in your area for whatever reason, our administrators will communicate with local animal organizations, like the Humane Society, to advocate for your pet’s rescue and care.

Our administrators will stay in touch with our Volunteer Pet Caretakers regarding each and every pet to be sure everything is being done to rescue and care for them