#Fire Records Management System

[eprfireworks]

How EPR FireWorks Helps Improve Fire Department Incident Reports and Action Plans

Under the National Incident Management System (NIMS), Incident Action Plans (IAPs) are pivotal in fire department operations. Fire department incident reports provide a structured approach to emergency response, ensuring efficient coordination, resource allocation, and clear operational objectives during incidents.

IAPs are integrated into NIMS through the Incident Command System (ICS), standardizing emergency response efforts across multiple agencies and jurisdictions. The Incident Commander (IC) or Unified Command develops the IAP to outline response strategies, operational priorities, and resource deployment, ensuring an effective and organized response.

A prime example of the importance of a well-executed IAP is the 2018 Camp Fire in California, the deadliest wildfire in the U.S. in over a century. The response involved more than 5,600 personnel from multiple agencies, and the IAP was critical in structuring firefighting efforts, streamlining resource distribution, and maintaining situational awareness across jurisdictions. Without a coordinated IAP, the complexity of managing such a large-scale disaster could have led to more significant confusion, inefficiency, and loss of life.

Additionally, IAPs facilitate multi-agency coordination, allowing different emergency responders like fire departments, law enforcement, and medical teams to operate seamlessly. Standardized NIMS forms, such as the FEMA 202 (Incident Objectives) and 204 (Assignment List), help track assignments and ensure accountability. By integrating IAPs into NIMS, fire departments improve response efficiency, enhance communication, and ensure all responders work toward a unified objective, ultimately saving lives and property.

Anatomy of a Fire Department Incident Action Plan & Why It Matters

A well-structured IAP ensures efficient response, resource optimization, and responder safety. It minimizes chaos in high-pressure situations and enables multi-agency coordination, ultimately saving lives and protecting communities. Here’s a breakdown of its key components.

Incident Objectives

Clear, measurable goals prioritize life safety, incident stabilization, and property protection. Objectives define the strategic approach to managing the emergency.

Operational Period Briefing

This briefing is conducted before each shift (typically every 12-24 hours) and updates responders on incident status, weather conditions, and safety concerns. It aligns teams with tactical priorities.

Resource Assignments

Personnel and equipment are allocated based on incident needs, with resources categorized by type and capability to ensure optimal deployment for specific firefighting scenarios.

Safety Considerations

IAPs outline hazard assessments, evacuation plans, and PPE requirements, minimizing risks to responders and ensuring situational awareness in rapidly changing conditions.

Communication Plans

A standardized Communications Plan (ICS Form 205) details radio frequencies, emergency contacts, and reporting protocols, preventing miscommunication and improving coordination.

Command Structure

The IAP, which follows the Incident Command System (ICS), ensures a transparent chain of command. Section chiefs oversee Operations, Planning, Logistics, and Finance, enabling seamless multi-agency collaboration.

Roadmap to an Effective Fire Department Incident Action Plan with EPR FireWorks

A Fire Department Incident Action Plan (IAP) is essential for efficient emergency response. By leveraging EPR FireWorks, a fire records management system, departments can streamline planning, enhance coordination, and improve response times.

Creating a Standardized IAP Template

A structured IAP template ensures consistency across all incidents. It should include the following.

Incident objectives (life safety, containment, and resource management)

Operational periods with clear assignments

Safety protocols and communication plans: Using EPR FireWorks, departments can auto-fill key data, reducing manual errors and accelerating IAP development.

Training and Drills for First Responders

Regular tabletop exercises, live drills, and scenario-based training ensure firefighters are familiar with IAP procedures. EPR FireWorks allows departments to analyze past incidents, track performance, and refine strategies based on real data, making training more data-driven and effective.

Leveraging Technology for Streamlined Planning

Advanced fire records management systems like EPR FireWorks integrate real-time resource tracking, GIS mapping, and automated reporting. This technology helps find critical incident details from historical data, optimize resource allocation with predictive analytics, and ensure compliance with NFPA and NIMS standards.

Aligning Policies Across Mutual Aid Partnerships

For large-scale incidents, mutual aid is crucial. A standardized IAP format, accessible via EPR FireWorks, allows agencies to share critical data instantly. This ensures seamless communication across departments, unified command structures for joint operations, and faster mobilization of mutual aid resources.

How EPR FireWorks Helps Fire Departments Overcome Common Challenges in Incident Reporting and Action Planning

Fire departments face many challenges in incident reporting and action planning, from communication breakdowns to resource shortages. This is where EPR FireWorks helps by offering a powerful tool that enhances efficiency, coordination, and decision-making.

Enhance Communication and Reduce Breakdowns

EPR FireWorks strengthens communication by enforcing radio discipline and integrating real-time messaging across devices. Its fire service incident report automation feature ensures critical updates instantly reach all personnel, minimizing confusion and delays.

Address Resource Shortages with Mutual Aid Optimization

With real-time resource tracking, departments can monitor equipment and personnel availability across agencies. Mutual aid coordination streamlines deployments, while resource allocation insights help optimize staffing and equipment use during large-scale incidents.

Manage Evolving Fire Conditions with Enhanced Situational Awareness

Live mapping and updates give responders real-time insights into fire spread, hydrant locations, and hazards. Incident data centralization ensures all units access the same information, while risk assessment integration supports proactive decision-making.

Streamline Incident Reports by Reducing Errors and Delays

Fire incident management software eliminates manual data entry, reducing errors and speeding up documentation. Standardized formats ensure consistency across reports, and instant access allows command staff to retrieve critical data anytime, anywhere.

Improve Fire Prevention & Community Engagement

Fire departments can integrate community data to track fire risks and improve public safety outreach. Automated notifications alert residents of hazards, while risk tracking helps prioritize prevention efforts based on historical trends.

Strengthen Decision-Making with Data Analytics

A comprehensive analytics dashboard compiles key metrics, helping command staff assess incident patterns and response effectiveness. Historical data insights improve long-term planning, while customizable reporting allows departments to tailor reports for compliance and strategic planning.

Firefighter and Community Safety Starts with a Solid Incident Action Plan – EPR FireWorks Helps You Get There

A well-structured Incident Action Plan (IAP) is the foundation of effective fire response. It ensures clear communication, resource coordination, situational awareness, and data-driven decision-making. EPR FireWorks transforms how fire departments plan, respond, and report, eliminating manual inefficiencies and enhancing real-time collaboration with our fire incident management software.

By improving radio discipline, mutual aid coordination, automated reporting, and risk assessment, fire departments can reduce response times, optimize resources, and enhance firefighter and community safety. Integrating data reporting and analytics, live mapping, and automated notifications ensures proactive fire prevention and smarter decision-making.

With EPR FireWorks, fire departments can handle evolving emergencies with greater efficiency, accuracy, and confidence. Protecting lives and property starts with a solid IAP and the right technology to support it. If you’d like to book a demo of our fire incident management software, let’s get started so you get what you need.

[writeriguess]

Ohhhhh can I have a Dabi fic where Dabi was caught before the Final War, and people tried to demand him to be locked away and the key thrown away for life, but reader (fem preferably please...), who's his girlfriend, managed to convince the Todoroki family to fund his rehabilation back to society. So my request is the reader telling him he has two options, either being locked away or to be rehabiliated. He resents the latter option because that would mean working on abandoning his hatred but she begs him to agree.

What’s Left After Fire

The room was colorless — like they’d bled it dry.

Concrete walls. Steel chair. Two-way mirror. Lights that buzzed too loud above. It felt like a mausoleum more than a holding room — like they’d built a tomb just for him, and instead of a grave, they’d left a table and a pair of manacles.

His skin was stretched tight in places where grafts had failed. The scent of old antiseptic and scorched flesh lingered around him, clinging to the seams of his patched-up body. His jacket was gone. Just prison-grade sweats now — grey, just like everything else.

Except his hair. That stubborn, snow-white hair — grown longer now, falling in front of his eyes in uneven strands. There was no flame here, no color, but he still burned.

And then you walked in.

The door shut behind you, heavy and final.

He didn’t look up. Didn’t even blink. Just sat, his wrists shackled to the metal table in front of him, eyes pointed at nothing. His voice came out flat, low — barely above a growl.

“If you’re here to give me your last goodbye, make it quick.”

You didn’t flinch.

“I’m not.”

No reaction. No smirk. Not even a twitch.

You stepped forward. The sound of your boots on the floor was the loudest thing in the room.

“I’m here to give you a choice.”

That made something flicker across his face — not curiosity, not interest, but irritation. Like a cigarette ember catching wind.

“Choice,” he repeated, like it tasted bad in his mouth. “Funny word. You know what they told me when they cuffed me to this chair?”

You stayed quiet.

“‘You’re lucky she’s still vouching for you,’” he recited, low and mocking. “‘Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, Dabi.’”

A pause. His eyes finally met yours — pale, narrowed, full of fury.

“So tell me. How much did you beg?”

Your jaw clenched. You hadn’t expected him to thank you, but you didn’t think he’d spit like this either. Then again… no, you did.

“I didn’t beg,” you said. “I made them listen.”

He gave a slow blink. Lazy. Dangerous.

“And who the hell are you to make the Todorokis do anything?”

You didn’t answer.

He leaned back in the chair. The restraints bit into his skin as he moved — his wrists already chafed raw. He didn’t care. Maybe he liked the burn. Maybe it made him feel alive.

“You know Shoto’s the one who caught me, right?” he asked. “Used his little ice-and-fire combo trick like a good boy. All according to Enji’s plan. Team effort. Very heroic. Real family bonding moment.”

“I know,” you said quietly.

His laugh was short and sharp.

“And now the same family wants to save me? What changed, huh? What miracle convinced them to waste resources on a broken weapon?”

“You. You convinced them.”

That made him still.

You took a step closer, dropping a thick folder on the table. His file. Evaluations, proposals, risk assessments, medical records.

“I laid it out. Told them they had two choices. Let the system eat you alive… or give you a shot at something else.”

“And they bought it?”

“They agreed in less than five minutes.”

His jaw twitched. “Yeah. I bet Enji loved the idea. Fixing the family screw-up with a rehab poster boy. Slap a progress chart on my face and call it ‘atonement.’”

You didn’t say anything.

He leaned forward, eyes burning now, voice razor-sharp.

“He doesn’t get to cleanse his sins through me.”

“He’s not the reason this is happening.”

“Isn’t he?” he snapped. “Come on. Let’s not pretend this is about me. I gave them everything they deserve. Burned their legacy to the ground. Called the world to watch. And now that the smoke’s cleared, Enji’s crawling back, waving the flag of forgiveness, thinking he can salvage me like I’m some broken PR stunt.”

You let the words settle. They were heavier than the walls around you.

“Maybe he is,” you said finally. “Maybe Enji sees this as damage control. But I don’t.”

“Of course not,” he sneered. “You still think there’s something worth saving in here.”

He thumped his chest once, dull against ribs.

“I saw what was left in the mirror. You know what I saw?”

He looked up again. His voice dropped into something bitter.

“Nothing. Just a mess of scars and ash and dead nerves.”

“You’re alive.”

“I didn’t ask to be.”

“You did,” you said, stepping even closer. “Every time you kept moving after your skin peeled off. Every time you burned and bled and screamed and still didn’t die. You fought for something. I don’t know if it was revenge or rage or survival, but you chose it.”

He was silent.

“And now I’m giving you another choice. One that isn’t about Enji, or the League, or the people you hurt. One that’s about you.”

He looked at you like you were speaking a different language.

“I’m not giving you freedom. I’m giving you a long, brutal, humiliating climb. Doctors. Supervised housing. Monitored Quirk suppression. Therapy. Family meetings. The works.”

“Sounds like hell.”

“It might be.”

Another silence. The kind that makes your stomach twist.

Then you tried again. Carefully. Softly.

“You can take it, or you can stay here. Alone. Until the end of your life.”

He looked down at his hands. Palms burned. Fingers fused in places. Knuckles split and bleeding.

He hated the idea of being anyone’s project. Especially his father’s.

You stepped closer, heart pounding.

“Touya—”

He jerked his head up so fast it almost rattled his chains.

“Don’t.”

Your mouth shut.

“Don’t call me that. Don’t you fucking say that name right now.”

You exhaled through your nose, trying to stay calm.

“I only call you Touya when I need you to hear me.”

His lip curled. “That’s not my name anymore.”

“I know.”

“Then stop pretending it is.”

You didn’t step back, even as he bristled.

“I call you Touya because you’re not just Dabi. You’re not just fire and pain and vengeance. You’re still that boy who wanted to be loved. And you still have the choice to be something more.”

He looked at you for a long time.

His eyes weren’t soft. They weren’t melting, or flickering with buried warmth. They were hard. Suspicious. But under all of it — that rage, that disgust, that bone-deep grief — was a sliver of something else.

Not hope. Not yet. But the ache of possibility.

And he hated it.

He hated that you saw it. That you were dragging it out of him like some surgeon with a scalpel and no anesthesia.

“So those are my options,” he muttered.

You nodded.

“Cage or climb.”

“Yeah.”

He looked back down. Took a slow breath. Then — like glass cracking under pressure — he muttered, low and lethal:

“Fine.”

You barely heard it. But he didn’t say it again.

He leaned back in the chair. The cuffs held, the air was heavy, and nothing about him softened.

But he said it.

And that was more than you ever expected.

[invisibleicewands]

Please come and see me because I’ll be dead soon’: how Michael Sheen got sucked into a forever chemicals exposé

An opera-loving member of high society turned eco-activist who was forced into police protection with a panic button round his neck. A Hollywood actor who recorded said activist’s life story as he was dying from exposure to the very chemicals he was investigating. Throw in two investigative journalists who realise not everything is as it seems, then uncover some startling truths, and you have “podcasting’s strangest team” on Buried: The Last Witness.

On their award-winning 2023 podcast Buried, the husband and wife duo Dan Ashby and Lucy Taylor dug into illegal toxic waste dumping in the UK and its links to organised crime. This time, they focus on “forever chemicals”, specifically polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs) and set out to discover whether one whistleblower may have been decades ahead of his time in reporting on their harmful impact.

“It’s amazing how big the scale of this story is,” says Ashby, as we sit backstage at the Crucible theatre, where they are doing a live discussion as part of Sheffield DocFest. “With this series, we don’t just want it to make your blood turn cold, we want it to make you question your own blood itself.”

It all started when Taylor and Ashby were sent a lead about the work of former farmer’s representative Douglas Gowan. In 1967, he discovered a deformed calf in a field and began to investigate strange goings on with animals close to the Brofiscin and Maendy quarries in south Wales. He linked them to the dumping of waste by companies including the nearby Monsanto chemical plant, which was producing PCBs.

PCBs were used in products such as paint and paper to act as a fire retardant, but they were discovered to be harmful and have been banned since 1981 in the UK. However, due to their inability to break down – hence the term forever chemical – Gowan predicted their legacy would be a troubling one. “I expect there to be a raft of chronic illness,” he said. He even claimed that his own exposure to PCBs (a result of years of testing polluted grounds) led his pancreas and immune system to stop working. “I’m a mess and I think it can all be attributed to PCBs,” he said.

However, Gowan wasn’t a typical environmentalist. “A blue-blood high-society Tory and a trained lawyer who could out-Mozart anyone,” is how Taylor describes him in the series. He would even borrow helicopters from friends in high places to travel to investigate farmers’ fields. Gowan died in 2018 but the pair managed to get hold of his life’s work – confidential reports, testing and years of evidence. “I’m interested in environmental heroes that aren’t cliche,” says Ashby. “So I was fascinated by him. But then we started to see his flaws and really had to weigh them up. My goodness it’s a murky world we went into.”

The reason they were able to delve even deeper into this murky world is because of the award-winning actor Michael Sheen who, in 2017, came across Gowan’s work in a story he read. He was so blown away by it, and the lack of broader coverage, that he tracked him down. “I got a message back from him saying: ‘Please come and see me because I’ll be dead soon,’” says Sheen. “I took a camera with me and spent a couple of days with him and just heard this extraordinary story.”

What Gowan had been trying to prove for years gained some traction in 2007, with pieces in the Ecologist and a Guardian article exploring how “Monsanto helped to create one of the most contaminated sites in Britain”. One was described as smelling “of sick when it rains and the small brook that flows from it gushes a vivid orange.” But then momentum stalled.

Years later, in 2023, Ashby and Taylor stumbled on a recording of Sheen giving the 2017 Raymond Williams memorial lecture, which referenced Gowan and his work. Before they knew it, they were in the actor’s kitchen drinking tea and learning he had conducted a life-spanning seven-hour interview with Gowan before his death. So they joined forces. Sheen isn’t just a token celebrity name added for clout on this podcast; he is invested. For him, it’s personal as well as political. “Once you dig into it, you realise there’s a pattern,” he says. “All the places where this seems to have happened are poor working-class areas. There’s a sense that areas like the one I come from are being exploited.”

Sheen even goes to visit some contaminated sites in the series, coming away from one feeling sick. “That made it very real,” he says. “To be looking into a field and going: ‘Well, I’m pretty sure that’s toxic waste.’” Sheen was living a double life of sorts. “I went to rehearsals for a play on Monday and people were like, ‘What did you do this weekend?’” he says. “‘Oh, I went to the most contaminated area in the UK and I think I may be poisoned.’ People thought I was joking.” Sheen ended up being OK, but did have some temporary headaches and nausea, which was a worry. “We literally had to work out if we had poisoned Michael Sheen,” says Ashby, who also ponders in the series: “Have I just killed a national treasure?”

The story gets even knottier. Gowan’s findings turn out to be accurate and prescient, but the narrative around his journey gets muddy. As a character with a flair for drama, he turned his investigation into a juicy, riveting story filled with action, which could not always be corroborated. “If he hadn’t done that, and if he’d been a nerdy, analytical, detail-oriented person who just presented the scientific reports and kept them neatly filed, would we have made this podcast?” asks Taylor, which is a fascinating question that runs through this excellent and gripping series.

Ashby feels that Gowan understood how vital storytelling is when it comes to cutting through the noise. “We have so much science proving the scale of these problems we face and yet we don’t seem to have the stories,” he says. “I think Douglas got that. Fundamentally, he understood that stories motivate human beings to act. But then he went too far.”

However, this is not purely about Gowan’s story – it’s about evidence. The Last Witness doubles up as a groundbreaking investigation into the long-lasting impact of PCBs. “We threw the kitchen sink at this,” says Ashby. “The breakthrough for us is that the Royal Society of Chemistry came on board and funded incredibly expensive testing. So we have this commitment to go after the truth in a way that is hardly ever done.”

From shop-bought fish so toxic that it breaches official health advice to off-the-scale levels of banned chemicals found in British soil, the results are staggering. “The scientist almost fell off his chair,” says Ashby. “That reading is the highest he has ever recorded in soil – in the world. That was the moment we knew Douglas was right and we are now realising the scale of this problem. The public doesn’t realise that even a chemical that has been banned for 40 years is still really present in our environment.”

To go even deeper into just how far PCBs have got into our environment and food chain, Ashby and Taylor had their own blood tested. When Taylor found 80 different types of toxic PCB chemicals in her blood it was a sobering moment. “I was genuinely emotional because it’s so personal,” she says. “It was the thought of this thing being in me that was banned before I was even born and the thought of passing that on to my children.” Ashby adds: “We’ve managed physical risk in our life as journalists in Tanzania and with organised crime, but more scary than a gangster is this invisible threat to our health.”

In order to gauge the magnitude of what overexposure to PCBs can do, they headed to Anniston, Alabama, once home to a Monsanto factory. “As a journalist, you have an inbuilt scepticism and think it can’t be that bad,” says Ashby. “But when I got there I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I hate to use words like dystopian, but it was. There is a whole massive school that can’t be used. There’s illnesses in children and cancers. It truly was the most powerful vignette of the worst-case example of these chemicals.”

It’s bleak stuff but instilling fear and panic is not the intention. “Obviously, we’re really concerned about it,” says Ashby. “And although the environmental crises we face do feel overwhelming, it is incredible how a movement has formed and how individuals are taking action in communities. The lesson to take from Douglas is that the response doesn’t have to be resignation. It can be agency.”

[falciesystemessays]

I honestly think that Dizzy's entrance to Guilty Gear Strive should be as much of A Moment for plural systems as Bridget's was for trans women. The character's not out yet, but every bit of promotional material for the character points in a very promising direction. So for people who don't go here, or who have only played Strive, allow me to tell you why a character trailer for a three-year-old game put me on the verge of tears.

For some quick context, plurality in a person is essentially the state of having multiple entities in one's head. The most commonly known form of this comes from having dissociative identity disorder, formerly known as multiple personalities. But plenty within the plural community (including me) have a broader umbrella for the term. The main terminology you'll want to know for this is that a "system" is a group of entities within one body (I for example am part of the Fal'cie System), and "aspects" are entities that aren't quite separable from the host, because they're the manifestation of specific parts of them. For the record I am very aware of how buckwild this sounds to an outsider, and I frequently get existential about it. A lot of characters in anime and games are incidentally plural due to their layers of fantasy nonsense. Some examples of this in action are Yami and Yugi from Yu-Gi-Oh, Sora gaining Ventus's heart in Kingdom Hearts, and the explicit dissociative identity of the Storyteller System in Ace Attorney.

Now then! To sum up Dizzy's backstory real quick, Dizzy is a Gear, basically a living weapon, and the daughter of original antagonist Justice. Most of her character up until this point has been desperately trying to cover that and live among humans, to... mixed avail. In the series' story mode she manages to start a family with the human deuteragonist Ky Kiske, who loves her a lot despite formerly being one of the best Gear-slayers. Ky is such a wonderful character, because throughout the series we see him go from hating Gears to tolerating a few of them to having a kid with one and actually becoming a little bit Gear himself. But this essay isn't about Ky Kiske.

In actual gameplay, as in the 1v1 fighting game battles, the main thing stopping her from relative normalcy is her two wings, Necro and Undine. The reason I say this character is a plural dub is because these wings are actually aspects of Dizzy, Necro being her rage and Undine her compassion. A lot of Dizzy's attack animations in Guilty Gear XX (the one where I've played Dizzy a lot) actually have Necro doing violent things while Dizzy herself is either distracted or afraid. This continued in Guilty Gear Xrd, where her instant kill move (every character gets one) has Necro unleashing a fuckoff gamma ray while Dizzy begs him to stop. Worth noting also that gamma rays are one of the moves her mother Justice used. Dizzy and Necro have clearly not been getting along, and while it's fun as a fighting game character bit, there is a certain level of sadness to it.

But in Strive? Oh my god, she looks so happy now! So at peace with herself and with her system. Lemme just rattle stuff off right now.

-Dizzy's attack animations all put her in control. Necro and Undine do a lot of fighting still, but never without Dizzy's control. They are fighting in tandem.

-Dizzy's victory animation has her hold out two hands. Undine naturally puts her whole hand onto one, and Necro finally puts a single finger on the other with a smile.

-Their super move, Gamma Ray, starts out with Necro and Undine firing a beam, and Dizzy getting scared. But after glancing at them and realizing it's okay, she joins in on the beam attack.

-She has a new move now, Michael Sword (Pronounced Mik-hai-ull), a full-screen slash that Justice used to have, indicating that she's come to terms with her origins and wants to use them for good.

-God, her opening animation and taunt where she communes with the animals like a Disney princess. Her new beautiful design. Her new theme song! She has never been this happy in her life!

The thing is, right, I can imagine people saying that this character growth isn't remotely the same kind of moment as Bridget's, because Dizzy's whole thing is based in sci-fantasy that could never be real in the same way that like, dissociative identity is real. Plenty more would deny that plurality exists at all outside some deluded roleplayers. And, I mean, was series director Daisuke Ishiwatari really thinking about people like me when choosing to take the character this way? I don't know, honestly. But I do know that Dizzy's character arc is authentic, to me. If there's one thing Guilty Gear Strive's story is really good at, it's giving long-suffering characters some well-earned peace. And if this is how Strive Season 4 is starting, I can't wait to see what they do next.

[dimlylittorch]

Could you do a story about a transmasc pre op reader, who's used to giving and servicing others and not receiving anything in return so their really touch starved and a bit insecure when (your choice of character) is interested and wants to show reader what it's like to be on the otherside, aka receiving for once.???

anon. come over here and let me kiss you bc HOLY SHIT your brain is so big and beautiful i love and adore you. to me this was perfect for a reader x roommate/neighbor trope and i was looking through my character list..

My Masterlist🌱

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x pre-op!transmasc!reader

18+ drabble MDNI

Working on base with the 141, hooking up with some random recruit that happens to be next door to Ghost. Ghost is constantly stuck hearing the guys moans, but after a few nights he realizes- he’s never heard yours. He watches as you leave the guys room one night, seeing that it’s the sweetheart from the records room. Starts going down to records more and more often, saying Price needs some things (liar liar pants on fire).

He manages to get you into his bed, watching how you get on your knees almost instantly without a word. He has to admit, it did make his cock chub up a bit, seeing what a good boy you were. But he knew this wasn’t the time for that, no. He wanted to hear how pretty you’d sing for him. The thought was what made his masturbation sessions interesting.

Listening to you slurp another man’s cock, jerking his dick furiously, only to let out a groan of annoyance when the moans of the other guy were audible. Multiple nights he thought about storming into that guys room, slapping a hand over his mouth and offering himself up to you instead. He could only cum now if he was thinking about you- and christ that was annoying.

And now he finally had you in his room, looking up at him so sweetly as you reach for his fly. A little part of his heart breaks when he makes himself grab your hand, pulling you up onto the bed instead. “Sorry sweetness” he’d grumble, starting to pull off your pants. “Need tha’ cunny too bad, eh? Promise I’ll make it up to ya’” he smirks as he shucks your briefs off, bringing them up to his nose and taking a deep breath. “Fuckin’ hell..” he groans, making quick work of his own pants.

Your face is radiating heat, legs snapped closed as you watch him undress, trying to ignore how your hole was leaking onto his comforter. “S-Si-“ you say weakly, trying to find your voice.

It doesn’t take long for him to put you on your knees, your face hiding in his pillows with embarrassment flooding your system. The cold air of the room blowing just right over your boycunt had your hole clenching, which of course had Simon’s mouth watering. “Be good f’me” he grunts, leaning down as licking a stripe up your slit, making you jump. “Bloody hell” he moans softly, shifting so his lips could wrap around your little bud, his nose digging into your tight heat.

You whine as you hide against his bed, body trying to move so you could close your legs- but he quickly had his large hands on your shins, keeping you in place while his tongue massaged your clit. “oh f-fuck- simon” you cry out, legs shaking already. The worst (best) part was when you could feel your cunt leaking onto his face, each gush of fluid sending a shiver up your spine.

A low chuckle fell from his lips, the vibration making you jolt. “Pretty boy” he says slowly. “Haven’ had this cun’ eaten much b’fore ‘ave ya?” He smirks, his tongue dipping higher with an amused glint in his eye. “s’a shame, really” he mutters. “Always givin’ away tha’ mouth. But yer pussy is where it’s at, eh?”

You whine at his words, embarrassment flooding your features. “I- I just-“ you try to say, cut off by his tongue teasing your hole. “I like giving.” You say weakly.

He grunts, planting a gentle but sudden spank to your ass. “Never gave ta’ me now did ya? Can’ like it tha’ much.” He spits, jealousy riddling his words. “On yer knees for some stupid recruit. Ought’a let ya’ suck me off under my desk- for makin’ me listen to yer gaggin’ every oth’a night.”

A small gasp slips past your lips, his tongue working you over so well- it was definitely the best head you’d gotten in a while. Fuck, maybe ever. “M’sorry!” You plead, pushing back against his face, begging for more. “Please- please, let me suck you off. I want to..”

He scoffs, forcing his face deeper into your cunt. “Not ‘till ya cum on my tongue.” He mumbles, ignoring the very clear stain forming on his boxers, his hips bucking against nothing. “Cum f’me. Then maybe ya can have me.” He grunts.

It doesn’t take long for you to come undone around his tongue, a smirk plastered to his lips. When he pulls away he uses his fingers to gather up some of your slick, slipping them past his lips with a hum. “I lied to ya” he murmurs, popping his fingers out of his mouth and sinking them into your cunt. “Ya won’ be suckin’ me off for a while. Gotta get a few more out of ya.” He muses.

Needless to say.. it was going to be a long night.

hey guys!! I’m finally back in a writing mood :) to my anon, i’m sorry this took like 2 months. I hope you enjoyed :3

[illycanary]

What Aang’s Relationship With His Kids Tells Us About His Relationship With Katara

Bumi: “Oh, boo-hoo. Must've been real hard for you, flying around the world with dad, riding elephant-koi all day.”

Tenzin: “Oh, so that's what this is all about.”

Kya: “That's what it's always been about. You think you're some savior who has to carry on dad's legacy.”

Tenzin: “Who else is going to do it?”

Kya: “How about all of us?”

Bumi: “Yeah, we're Aang's kids too.”

The whole problem with this family is, Aang didn’t believe that.

Aang has a long, undeviating track record of never questioning anything he believes about the Air Nomads. Who the hell has a perfect and complete understanding of their society, government, international relations, education system, religion, morality, genetics, and reproduction at age 12? According to Aang? He does. 

The entire lynchpin of Aang’s Book 3 arc is all about how Air Nomads are pacifists and cannot ever under any circumstances harm a life. (We’re going to ignore the body count Aang’s already wracked up over the first two seasons for the sake of preserving his feelings because those were soulless NPCs or something.) 

And yet Aang never questions this…

Monk Gyatso’s bones surrounded by a pile of Fire Nation soldier bones. The picture doesn’t fit Aang’s image of Air Nomad peace and harmony, so he ignores it entirely. It NEVER comes up despite its overwhelming relevance to Aang’s internal conflict and the sorts of advice he seeks from authority figures in the third season (despite Monk Gyatso being the penultimate authority figure in Aang’s life).

Another thing Aang never questions?

There’s no such thing as a non-airbending Air Nomad. They’re just all born that spiritual. And spirituality is the golden key that unlocks bending. (Because Bryke said so.)

Despite Guru Pathik not being a bender. Despite the fact that Zhao, literal spirit murderer, is one. Despite Toph—the most un-spiritual, cynical, feet-on-the-ground-head-nowhere-near-the-clouds member of Aang’s friend group—being the most powerful bender of the lot. Despite Hama being a waterbender equal to none but Katara while completely cut off from her culture and turning her back on everything we believe about water bending’s inherent ties to community, connectedness, and love (Iroh’s words). Despite Azula mastering the god-tier lightning technique BECAUSE she’s practically dead inside and values life least of all things. Despite the fact that Princess Yue has the literal MOON SPIRIT THAT IS THE SOURCE OF ALL WATERBENDING living inside her, and yet she still somehow manages to not be a bender.

Despite the fact that Air Nomads roam all over the world, sewing their wilds oats throughout every nation, yet no airbending toddlers ever crop up in Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom preschools. 

Despite the fact that non-monogamous societies where men have multiple partners father more children and boost the population faster than in societies that favor “attached” relationships, yet the all-airbending Air Nomads still somehow have the smallest population of any ethnic group in the world. 

Despite the fact that Aang’s twin, Ty Lee, is RIGHT. THERE. with her unparalleled aura-seeing, chakra blocking spirituality and her GRAY EYES in a world where color coding is ~totally~ not a thing… *sigh* 

But nope. Air Nomad parentage = airbending child. Always.

So when Katara births a child that is… not an airbender? Not any kind of bender at all, in fact. There’s only one logical conclusion (in Aang’s mind). 

That is not Aang’s child. 

Aang never had a problem traveling with non-airbenders before. He was non-exclusionary by nature. Katara and Toph and Zuko were welcome. Sokka and Suki were welcome. The more, the merrier, in fact. Because Aang loves nothing as much as he loves an adoring audience.

Yet Bumi never travelled with Aang.

Bumi’s as old in this picture as Aang was in the first series. He had an entire decade in which he should have been the most important thing in his parents’ lives. His personality was already more or less formed (not completed, but the groundwork was laid) by the time Tenzin came along. Bumi’s inferiority issues began long before there were any airbending children around to siphon Aang’s attention for training purposes. 

Aang and Katara didn’t have another child until Bumi was on the verge of adolescence because Aang was convinced that Katara cheated. And I’m guessing it took Mr. “Let Your Anger Out, And Then Let It Go” about ten years to forgive his wife and give her the chance to get it right. (Which is at least four years longer than he gave her to forgive her mother’s murderer, in case you forgot.)

Acolyte: “Sorry, I thought you were the servants.”

Bumi: “We’re Tenzin’s brother and sister!”

Acolyte: “Avatar Aang had other children? The world is filled with more airbenders?!”

Kya: “We’re not airbenders.”

Acolyte: “Oh… I’m so sorry.”

The Air Acolytes—whose whole identity, purpose, lifestyle, and religion center around every detail of this man's life and beliefs—didn't know Aang had more than one child.

The best case scenario here is that Aang simply pretended his older children didn’t exist because he was ashamed of them and made Katara keep them shut away at all times. 

And maybe that could have worked… If Aang and Katara had ever had any privacy in their relationship. But they didn’t.

The Air Acolytes have been following Aang and Katara since the comics. They’ve been there at every step of Aang and Katara’s life together. Observing. Fangirling. Emulating. Diefying. Looking for weaknesses in the relationship because Katara was only his “first girlfriend.” 

Yet, somehow, they didn’t know Aang had three children. 

I can’t imagine a way for them not to know unless Aang actively told people, “Those aren’t my kids,” and let Katara bear the shame and stigma of having the world believe she was unfaithful. 

All because Aang couldn't entertain the idea that he was wrong about some facet of a society he never understood clearly.

[writhyv]

⋆｡°✩ [ch.2] for when you see me

Songs on the charts, sold-out shows, the kind of career most musicians dream about—everything’s perfect. But success doesn’t fill the emptiness. And then, just when you think you’ve moved on—there he is. Your past, standing in front of you like a love song you never finished.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ pairing — park jongseong x male!reader

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ word count — 1.8k

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ tags — male reader, jay x reader, estranged exes to lovers, famous singer!reader because we're built like that, is this angst? i have no clue, memories of your past together just hits hard ughhhh, jay has a new lover omg the drama-mama-mamah, you are dramatic as hell but we love you for you, you are insane to still think of him, i understand though you are in love with jay we see each other WE SEE EACH OTHER, more to come!

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ warning + notes — use of male pronouns, has some implied relationships, swear words, mentions and use of alcoholic substances, author's interpretation of the people in this fic might not reflect them irl, story update lengths may vary~

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ way back into love : the full masterlist

The whiskey still burned in your chest when you woke up. You hated the feeling of alcohol within your system, but god does it soothe your tangled mess of a head.

Sunlight stabbed through the blinds, unforgiving. You groaned, rolling onto your side, half-expecting the bed to dip under someone else’s weight. But the sheets were cold. Empty.

Just like always.

The CD player had long since shut off, but the song still looped in your skull.

You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes until colors burst behind your lids.

Pathetic.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand. Leah’s name flashed across the screen, followed by a string of texts:

Leah: u alive?

Leah: also sarah says sorry abt last night. she didn’t know it was ‘that song’

Leah: …u gonna answer or am i sending mira over?

You typed back with one thumb.

You: i’m fine. don’t worry.

A lie. But what else was new?

The boxes in the corner taunted you. You’d only opened one last night, and already it felt like picking at a scab. The rest were a minefield of old playlists, ticket stubs, and the kind of photos that made your ribs ache.

You kicked the nearest one under the bed. Out of sight, out of mind.

The day was bright and bold. You set yourself up on your feet and got ready. Today is work day.

˚　　✦　　.　. 　 ˚　.　 . ★⋆.　　✦　.　　.　 ˚　.　　✦　˚ 　　 ˚　.˚

“Going to Floor 26.” The pristine elevator voice echoed around you as you got in it.

The studio was your sanctuary. Or at least, it was supposed to be.

Atlas Records had given you the space after your first album surprisingly went platinum immediately after it was released (only days before it went double.) It was a token, a ‘reward,’ they’d called it. As if the pristine soundboards, the premium tech setup and gears, and some Grade-A acoustic paneling could make up for the fact that they owned you.

You slumped into the chair, scrolling through the latest track list your producer had shoved at you: that and a mere bunch of memos from the people upstairs.

Upbeat. Radio-friendly. More of what’s working, just like last cycle.

You crumpled the stupid paper into a ball and threw it straight into the can.

"Rough night?" You almost flinched as you heard a booming voice behind you.

Mira, your manager, leaned against the doorframe, sipping a matcha latte with extra foam. Walking just enough meters beside you, she offered another cup with the same taste — your favorite.

"Something like that," you muttered, taking the cup and popping the lid off instantly. You smelled the fresh aroma, before sipping soundly.

She arched a brow. "Leah’s wedding, right? Tell me about it."

You strummed a dissonant chord on the nearby guitar. "Played ‘Wonderwall.’ The crowd loved it."

Mira didn’t laugh, sitting with her back against one of your designer chairs. "Liar liar, pants on fire."

You shrugged. "It’s in my contract. Must lie convincingly to press."

“Press!? We lived in the same roof for a year and that’s all I am to you?”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m famous.”

She groaned, taking it lightly. But then her eyes flicked to your hands—the way your fingers trembled ever so slightly against the strings.

"Who was it?" she asked, softer.

You didn’t answer. You could feel her eyes burning through your thick skull as if almost reading the contents of your brain.

She exhaled. "Take the day, hmm? Sleep it off. We can push the schedule to—"

"I’m fine." You grabbed the nearest lyric sheet, jaw tight. You sat across her in your leather chair, focusing on sorting out the busy contents of your workspace before speaking yet again. "Let’s just work. We’ve got three hours before we go, yeah?"

Mira studied you for a long moment before nodding. "Yeah.”

After taking a long winding breath, she slowly went to the door to take her leave.

“If you start crying into the microphone later, I’m charging you for ruined equipment." She retorted one last second.

“Blah blah, go do your manager things!” You smiled as you tried to throw a crumpled sheet to her.

“Alright, alright!” She shut the door gently, leaving you alone on your vices.

Right ... you were going to sing today. A lot.

When you least expected it, the skill you had fun as a hobby had already become a chore.

˚　　✦　　.　. 　 ˚　.　 . ★⋆.　　✦　.　　.　 ˚　.　　✦　˚ 　　 ˚　.˚

The neon sign outside flickered—YE OLD TAVERN—in all its peeling, ironic glory.

You hadn't set foot in this place since your university years. Back when sticky tables and cheap beer felt like an adventure, not exhaustion. Back when he was still beside you, laughing into his drink as you butchered a karaoke song.

Now, the bar was packed—word had spread about the "intimate, unplugged" tour Atlas had forced you into. Authenticity sells, they'd said. Fans eat this shit up.

You just wanted nothing but sleep.

"Five minutes," Mira muttered, nudging you toward the old stage—a vintage relic of this bar’s storied past, all with a single mic stand waiting.

The crowd was a blur of your fans; young adults like you, some adults that you remind of their youth, and a lot of younger people that definitely fit the criteria of modern fans, holding up LED signs and phone screens. You adjusted the guitar strap digging into your shoulder and forced a smile.

Your signature voice flowed through the space like a gentle autumn breeze, carrying warmth and nostalgia with every note. The raw emotion in your delivery resonated deeply with your supporters, who hung on every word and inflection.

You can definitely see it in their eyes. They were enamored by you.

Your voice filled the room with a simple kind of magic. The crowd melted into the music as you sang, each word honest and raw. This wasn't just another show - it was real, and everyone could feel it.

Then you saw him.

Blond hair, roughly swept back to the side like he'd run a hand through it one too many times. Broad shoulders under a fitted black shirt. That face—sharp, unfairly handsome, watching you with an intensity that made your fingers twitch against the strings.

Jay.

Right there. On the side of the bar area, sat on a comfy wooden stool.

Your breath caught. And his too.

He hadn't meant to come.

But then he'd seen the posters outside the tavern—your name in bold letters—and suddenly he was nineteen again, sneaking in with his new ID just to see you play again and not miss his shot.

Now, he‘s frozen as he sees you perform so whole heartedly under the might of a single incandescent light.

You looked beautiful. Real.

Not the polished version from magazines or Leah's wedding—where you'd stiffened the second Sarah requested that song. Where your voice had cracked on the chorus, raw in a way no studio could autotune.

Where he’s just able to see you again.

And now here you were, strumming the opening chords of something new—voice low, rougher than he remembered. The crowd swayed, but Jay didn't move.

Couldn't.

Not when you glanced up mid-verse, gaze snagging on his like a caught breath.

˚　　✦　　.　. 　 ˚　.　 . ★⋆.　　✦　.　　.　 ˚　.　　✦　˚ 　　 ˚　.˚

You finished the set in a daze.

No one noticed the way your hands shook. No one except him.

Backstage—if you could call a storage room with a large old leather loveseat a ‘backstage’—Mira shoved a bottle of branded distilled water into your hands. "Good crowd. Atlas'll be happy."

You didn't answer.

Mira sighed, looking at you with that same concern yet again. She knows your situation, and she feels bad being so helpless and useless to ease your pain the way you want.

She taps your shoulder and presents a light grin back at you. "Van’s out back. Avoid the fans, yeah?"

You nodded, seeing her leave the room shortly.

Until when can you stomach this feeling? This sensation? Being trapped in world you dreamed of was never in your plans, yet here you are, sitting inside your gilded cage.

As you took a deep breath, you fixed your hair and showered yourself in your favorite perfume yet again. You took a faithful step and approached the exit.

When your senses met the stench of New York’s streets opposite the alley door, Jay was already there. Leaning against the brick wall, arms crossed, like he'd been waiting for years.

"Hey," he said.

The streetlight caught the gold in his hair. God, he looked good.

"Hi." Your voice came out hoarse. You walked slowly, approaching him with some needy caution. Just for yourself.

A beat of silence passed. Then Jay pushed off the wall, stepping closer. "You killed it in there."

You scoffed. "It was a dive bar, Jay."

"Yeah. Our dive bar."

The words hung between you. Quiet, and more of that still silence.

“The dim lights suit your features.”

You shot up a glance towards Jay, hearing him say such a ridiculous thing in the middle of your self-inflicted turmoil.

You could say the same for him.

Right then, you forced yourself to look away. "Shouldn't you be with … Naomi, right?"

Jay's jaw tightened, his hands flexing against his sharp jaw. "I … wanted to see you."

Why?

You didn't ask. Couldn't possibly.

Instead, you watched as he pulled something from his pocket—a crisp white card.

PARK JONGSEONG, with some unreadable fine print at the side you couldn’t see much under the street lights. His name is embossed in sleek black and accents of regal purple.

"If you ever want to grab matcha," he said, holding it out. "No pressure."

You stared at it. Four years ago, you'd have taken it without hesitation.

Now?

"Jay," you said softly, "what about … her?"

As he opened his mouth—

Ring.

His phone lit up. As your curious eyes darted over, the name span the screen. Naomi.

Jay cursed under his breath, still not answering as he held out for your advise.

"I should—"

"Yeah." You stepped back. "I don’t mind."

He hesitated, card still extended. "Just please... think about it."

Nervous as you can be, you took the card in hesitation.

“A card, huh?” You flipped the sheet of stiff paper on your fingertips.

“Yeah.” Jay perked up his one-sided smile, genuinely happy at the gesture. You couldn’t help but smile back — it was contagious when you see Jay act that way.

“Park Jongseong … got your whole government name here too, hehe.” Jay couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that comment, and neither could you.

Then he was gone—turning by the corner—swallowed by the city lights.

You stood there, fingers clenched around his card, until Mira honked the car horn.

“Drive or bust, superstar!”

Lost in thought, his voice played like a broken record in your head.

Think about it.

As if you could do anything else.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ kai's notes — HAHAHA THE GODS HAVE GIVEN ME THE SIGN SO ITS UPDATE TIME AND OH WE'RE IN CHAPTER 2!! what is all the juice abouttt, find out next chapter~ also excited for en-chella!! GO TEAM WOOOOOO

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ story taglist — tagging @kaiyunsim @firstclassjaylee @ryes-brownies08

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ can i join the masterlist? — sure! i do frequent posts and updates so just be warned! leave a reply on any posts and i'll add ya in the future updates, much love~ 

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ way back into love : the full masterlist

[PREVIOUS CHAPTER]

my masterlist! | don't forget to reblog! | made by writhyv 💘

[on-a-lucky-tide]

fun things to inflict on a pilot who bases his value on how useful he is to others:

temporary blindness >:3c

141 accidentally pierce an old mustard gas canister during an operation. Nik takes the brunt.

cw: injury, temporary blindness, distressed character.

Price paced up and down the base hospital ward wringing his hands as he waited for news, his heart in his throat. The mission had gone south so bloody quickly, and no matter how many times he retraced their steps, Price couldn't pinpoint the exact action that had caused such a monumental fuck up.

Old world war one bunker. Old old. The perfect place for a terrorist cell to store chemical weapons, or at least a lead to them. They had jumped early that morning with Nik because it was in east Germany and he had the knowledge they needed to break through the security systems. The USSR had used it as a base of operations during the Cold War, so without Nik, getting in would have been like chipping away at granite with a toothpick.

They got in. They secured the intelligence - no bloody weapons though - and were on their way out. A small detachment of enemy combatants had infiltrated through a different entrance that hadn't been recorded on the schematics they were working from. There had been an exchange of fire. A stray bullet caught a canister and...

Nik ignored the most fundamental rule of chemical warfare. You sort your own fucking mask first. But no, the stupid wanker grabbed for Gaz's first, because he was closest to the explosion and had only a split second to react.

Nik had been too slow with his own as a result.

Holding Nik in the casevac had been one of the most difficult experiences of Price's life. The skin lesions across his face had been like second degree burns, his eyes swollen shut, streaming. Anywhere there was moisture, the old gas had attacked. Despite the wounds, Price had seen the terror on his face as he tried to wrench the damp gauze off. He couldn't see.

"John, ya nye mogu videt! John... gdye ty? Gdye ty!" His usually calm, sombre voice, with its laid back drawl, broken and cracked in desperation.

In the end, Price had taken the decision to sedate him in the heli, one of those big hands clenched in his to keep him anchored as the drugs brought his heart rate under control and soothed his panic. He had lashed out at Gaz blindly - "otyebis ot menya!" - but between them they had managed to get the sedative into his thigh.

There were other wounds; bumps, scrapes, but none as serious.

"Sir, I'm sorry," Gaz had rasped, chucking the needle back into the bag. "This is my fault."

"No," Price had shaken his head. "Not your burden to carry. G'won, go eat somethin'."

The door at the end of the hall opened and the doctor summoned him with a flick of the head. "Well?" Price demanded, ignoring the pursed lipped irritation he got in return.

"It's temporary," the doctor said, his arms folding. "The gas was old, degraded. Still potent enough to cause damage, but with the right treatment, he'll get his eyesight back."

"How long?"

"Difficult to say. Four to six weeks for the skin lesions to heal. His body will decide on the rest... uh, captain," the doctor reached out a hand as Price tried to walk past, "there is a risk of long-term dyspnea, respiratory problems, awful stuff mustard gas, it attacks the central nervous system too, it can cause changes in mentation, and I understand from his file that he has a medical history of--"

"--I know what's in the file."

"We may be looking at more damage here than just his eyes. But only time will tell."

When Price stepped through the door, Nik startled, looking in his direction even though the heavy bandages over his eyes prevented him from seeing. Price spoke softly as he closed the door at his back. "S'just me, Nik. Easy."

Price nodded tightly, walked by and shouldered his way into the next ward. He found Nik's room but hesitated outside. Nik was awake. He was trying to grope around the table in front of him, searching.

"Captain, it is... well, I would say good to see you but..." He gestured vaguely at his head, his wry smirk shaky, and then that hand returned to patting around the table.

"Did they explain everything? Did you..." ...understand. Fuck, Price didn't understand half of the medical jargon, so he wouldn't be surprised if Nik struggled in his fourth language to parse what they were saying. Fourth out of eight. Asking felt like an insult to Nik's intelligence. The doctor's comment about mentation lodged in Price's throat like a shard of glass.

"Da. It will heal but there may be some future complications, I..." Nik suddenly slammed his fist against the table, anger twisting his mouth into a snarl, "..blyat, where is my phone? I need.." Nik's voice cracked and his chin tilted down with the shame of it, trailing off into miserable silence.

Price reached for him and tried not to let the resulting flinch shred his heart. Once Nik realised it was Price's hands and not whatever phantom his mind has conjured, he relaxed. Price sat down on the edge of the bed. "You don't need t' do anythin' but heal. We've got yer covered."

The way Nik's jaw twitched, teeth clenching at the back, his shoulders rising a little towards his ears; Price could see the clawing discomfort without needing to see his expression.

"You're gonna have to trust us, Nik. I need yer to trust me."

"I do," Nik croaked. "It is... This is not your burden to carry."

"Even if you weren't who you are, you still got injured in one of my operations."

"I let you down. And now I am useless." Nik's other hand clenched into a fist at his side, making the finger monitor creak under the strain.

"Temporarily out of commission. Not useless."

Nik turned his head away, refusing to hear it. They sat in silence, Price's thumb stroking back and forth over Nik's knuckles, giving him a point to focus on that wasn't his burning skin or the darkness of his vision.

"Nik, short of turnin' me over to Al Qatala, you could never let me down," Price said, finally.

Now was the time. Now Nik needed to hear it more than ever.

"You... mean the world to me. I..." he rubbed at his face, tugging at his whiskers, "...I love you. And when I saw you go down, my heart stopped for a second. The world stopped. Believe it or not, I was glad you were screamin' bloody murder in that chopper, cause that meant you were still here."

Nik drew a stuttering breath, but he didn't say anything. The man who had a one-liner or a bit of sass for every occasion sat in mute silence. It made Price ache in a way he never had before.

"'M not gonna abandon you, Nik. Wouldn't have even if this had been permanent. An' I know you don't believe me. I know. But... 'm gonna show ya. And you can grumble and cuss at me 'til the cows come home."

Nik's head fell back against the pillow and he sniffed, scowling with a muttered curse.

"You olrigh'?" Price squeezed his hand.

"Da. I am crying like little girl and it is stinging my eyes."

Price chuckled, patting their joined hands against his own thigh. "Soppy git."

That had to be a good sign. Tear ducts were what the eyes used to heal and maintain themselves, right? And he could feel the tears. Positive. This was positive. Price lifted Nik's hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles, lingering there to feel the warmth of his skin.

Nik swallowed, his fingers tightening in Price's grip. "If I had known that losing my eyes would have earned me John Price, I would have cut them out years ago."

"Fuckin' 'ell, Nik," Price said incredulously, always somewhat taken aback by the intensity with which Nik expressed himself when it was just them. He sighed. "Yer've had me all this time. I just... I'm just not as brave as you are."

Nik huffed. "Bravo Six is the bravest man I know."

"Only for some things. Not feelin' particularly brave right now, and you're the one in the gurney."

Nik tilted his head towards Price, so desperate to see his face. Price was glad he couldn't. His damn eyes were watering. "Then, I will be brave for you. This, I can do without my eyes."

Price smiled and made sure Nik could feel it against his palm, promising him silently in that moment that he wouldn't waste a single second more of their time together on this bloody earth. "Sounds like a plan."

[rottenpumpkin13]

I want to see AGSZ being teachers for a day to preschool kids and they had to read the kids a cool story

Genesis: "Children, dearest blossoms of Midgar's future, I welcome you to expand your literary knowledge. My darlings, through stories, we glimpse eternity. Through rhyme, we become divine. Now let us begin…" " *He flips open an ornate, leather-bound book* "Chapter one of the Kamasutra—"

Angeal: "GENESIS NO."

*Angeal tackles him full linebacker style*

Sephiroth: "For the record, I did not volunteer. I was ordered by upper management under threat of further 'team building activities.' I've been issued this book." *He holds up The Little Engine That Could* "Let us begin. The little engine puffed and puffed. 'I think I can. I think I can'…." *He pauses. Lowers the book. Looks down at the toddlers like they're cadets* "But why? What systemic failures caused this engine to bear the full burden of labor alone? Where was union support? Who profited from this mountain being climbed?" *The children start crying while Sephiroth sits there awkwardly*

Angeal: *gripping Jack and the Beanstalk with quiet rage* "Jack traded a cow for beans. What an interesting financial decision." *he angrily flips a page* "And then the beans grew into a giant beanstalk overnight??" *page flip* "And Jack climbed the beanstalk and found a castle in the clouds with gold and treasure and—"OH OKAY. JUST WALTZ INTO THE SKY AND GET RICH. THAT'S TOTALLY A THING THAT HAPPENS. NOT LIKE SOME OF US HAD TO WORK THREE JOBS TO AFFORD FOOD. JACK IS A CLASSIST PROPAGANDA MOUTHPIECE." *he sets the book on fire with materia, the children scream*

Zack: *in front of a chalkboard like he's briefing for an op* "Alright, squad! We were supposed to read Mog the Moogle Goes to the Carnival, but I skimmed it and honestly? Mog doesn't follow protocol. He goes in unarmed. That's how you get K.O.-ed." *He draws a crude moogle outline: giant head, pompom, angry face* "This is a moogle. Looks cute. Wrong. These guys can actually kill you. If you see one in the field, you gotta assess: is it here for hugs, or is it here for war?" *One kid whispers that they thought moogles friends* "Friendship ends when Mog casts doom, kiddo. Now—what do you do if it starts flapping its wings and saying kupo?" *Silence. Zack slams a pointer against the board* "EVASIVE MANEUVERS."

[literaryvein-reblogs]

I have no clue if you've done this already, but I would love some royal-related vocabulary!! I write about a royal family (one in the middle ages) and it gets tiring looking for all the correct terms😅

Some Medieval Vocabulary

Amercement - financial penalty imposed by the King or his justices for various minor offences. The word comes from the fact that the offender is said to be ‘in mercy’.

Assize - meeting of feudal vassals with the King, and the edicts issued from it. It comes to have a legal context of court; but then in the early days the king’s court was just that – a place where law was made and justice executed. Hence the double meaning of the word court.

Borough - town with the right of self government granted by royal charter

Chamber - the financial office of the royal household

Chamberlain - officer of the royal household, responsible for the Chamber. He was therefore responsible for administration of the household and the private estates of the King.

Chancellor - officer of the Royal Household who originally served as the monarch’s secretary or notary, managing the Chancery, filled with clerks who produced writs and written instructions and records.

Chivalry - the knightly class of feudal times. The primary sense of the term in Europe in the Middle Ages is “knights,” or “fully armed and mounted fighting men.” Thence the term came to mean the gallantry and honour expected of knights. Later the word came to be used in its general sense of “courtesy.”

Constable - the title of an officer given command in an army or an important garrison. Also the High Constable was the officer who commanded in the King’s absence and commanded the King's army.

Destrier - warhorse; so called because it would be led using the right hand

Diadem - a royal crown

Eyre - the king and his justices would traditionally travel through the kingdom to deliver justice. As the king became more centred at Westminster, justices would continue to travel – and were called Justices in Eyre. From the French errer, "to travel".

Heir apparent - the declared heir to the throne, normally the king’s eldest son

Heir presumptive - the presumed heir to the throne in the event of the king dying without an heir apparent

Justiciar - head of the royal judicial system and the King’s viceroy during his absence from the country

League - somewhere between 1½ to 3 miles. Traditionally, the distance a person or horse can walk in one hour.

Mark - money, worth thirteen shillings and four pence, i.e. two thirds of £1

Mead hall - in the Middle Ages in Northern Europe and Scandinavia, a large building with just one room that was used as a central place for entertainment and as a living place for a lord/king

Minstrel - a traveling musician and singer common between the 11th and 15th centuries

Ordeal - a method of trial in which the accused was given a physical test which could be met successfully only if they were innocent (e.g., ordeal by fire)

Purveyance or prise - in early medieval days, the lord had the right to be entertained by his followers, at their expense. And of course this applied to the greatest lord of all – the king. Over time, the king travelled less, but still wanted the benefit of being able to have him and his household live at someone else's expense – and so he exercised the right to take goods and food in lieu of being there. It was the policy to pay – but payment was often small and late.

Saga - a long story about Scandinavian history, written in the Old Norse language in the Middle Ages, mainly in Iceland

Steward - man responsible for running the day to day affairs of the manor or castle in absence of the lord

Subinfeudation - in medieval Europe, the process by which a vassal (i.e., a man who lived on land given to him by a powerful land owner in exchange for agreeing to fight for him) allowed someone else to use or live on part of their land

Sumpter - packhorse, pony, mule or other animal

Thegn - military companion to the king

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6

Here's what I found for you. Hope this helps! Would love to read your work if it does—sounds like the kind of writing I enjoy :)

More: Medieval-Related Vocabulary ⚜ Word Lists

[mostly-marvel-musings]

You weren’t supposed to hear that, Tony - Part 3

A/N: Alright Part 3 is here for y’all! Leave a heart or comment if you’ve enjoyed reading it!

Pairing: Young! Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warning: Fluff.

Here's Part 1 and Part 2 - They can be read as stand-alone!!

.

It was one of those golden afternoons at the Stark estate—the kind where the sun poured through the bay windows like honey, and the scent of espresso and chaos lingered in the air.

Tony was in the study with Howard. You and Maria sat just outside the doors on the velvet settee, pretending not to eavesdrop.

You were absolutely eavesdropping. Maria was already three giggles in.

“—I’m just saying,” came Tony’s voice, slightly defensive, “that if someone had told me the Tesla coil wasn’t meant to be dismantled in under five minutes, I might not have electrocuted myself. Again.”

Howard snorted. “You’re lucky you didn’t fry your last three brain cells.”

“I have at least six,” Tony countered. “Probably seven. Seven genius cells.”

From the corner of the room, Jarvis cleared his throat politely, polishing a silver tray with mild judgment. “Sir, if I may, genius cells typically do not ignite the billiard table with a screwdriver and bravado.”

Tony squinted. “Okay, that was once. And in my defense, no one said the felt was flammable.”

Howard laughed so hard he nearly dropped his bourbon.

You nudged Maria, whispering, “Should we tell them we’re listening?”

She grinned wickedly. “Absolutely not. I want to hear what other idiocies my son considers self-defense.”

Inside the study, Tony groaned. “You know, you’re all obsessed with reminding me of my failures. What about my achievements? The miniature arc modulator prototype I built?”

Howard raised a brow. “The one that caught fire and triggered the fire suppression system?”

Tony looked offended. “It worked for eight seconds!”

Jarvis stepped forward, unbothered. “Indeed, sir. A record-breaking interval before an explosion. Shall I frame the soot-stained lab coat as memorabilia?”

Tony flopped dramatically into a chair. “You’re all against me.”

Outside the door, you let out a laugh you couldn’t quite suppress.

Silence.

Then: “Wait—how long have you been listening?!” Tony’s voice rose an octave.

Maria called sweetly, “Since the Tesla coil. But don’t worry, darling, we only laughed when you deserved it.”

You peeked your head in, beaming. “So… constantly.”

Tony pointed at you, betrayed. “You were on my side!”

“I was beside you,” you corrected, walking into the study with mock sympathy. “Big difference.”

He turned to Jarvis, desperate. “Jarv, back me up here.”

Jarvis—without missing a beat—replied, “If I must, Master Tony. You did, after all, manage to recalibrate the espresso machine without setting it ablaze this morning. A feat worthy of a standing ovation.”

Tony perked up. “Thank you!”

Jarvis added, “Though I believe that was after Miss Y/N showed you which button not to push.”

You raised a finger. “The one labeled ‘steam cannon.’”

Tony groaned. Maria patted your shoulder proudly. “She’s already better at managing him than I ever was.”

Howard just sat there chuckling, looking between you and Tony like a man seeing a prophecy unfold. “You’re doomed, son. She’s got your number.”

Tony leaned back with a dramatic sigh, hand over his heart. “You all think you’re so clever. But I’m onto you. Roasting me is just a cover. You adore me.”

You crossed your arms with a grin. “We do. That’s why we mock you with love.”

Maria leaned in. “That’s how you know you’re one of us.”

Jarvis, now pouring tea, added dryly, “It’s also how we maintain our sanity.”

Tony finally cracked a smile and looked at you—the one person who could out-sass, out-smart, and out-love him on any given day. “Alright. Fine. I accept my fate. Roast away, beloved traitors. But just know—someday, I’ll invent something that saves all your butts, and then I’ll never let you forget it.”

Howard raised a brow. “Someday, sure. After you stop setting the kitchen on fire.”

“I was making crème brûlée!”

“You were using a flamethrower.”

And as the laughter filled the Stark house like warmth itself, Tony caught your eye and mouthed, “Worth it.”

Because if being the butt of the joke meant you were smiling at him like that?

He’d gladly get roasted every day of the week.

.

Later that evening, after Howard retreated to the library muttering about “teaching that boy how to use a proper soldering iron” and Maria went off in search of her wine glass (last seen in the piano room, suspiciously near the cat), you and Tony stole away upstairs to his room.

The house quieted around you—just the creak of old floorboards and the soft hum of the estate settling for the night.

You were curled up on his window seat, legs tucked under you, while Tony flopped beside you, his head landing squarely in your lap like a very expensive, very smug golden retriever.

“Do you think they’ll ever stop roasting me?” he mumbled.

You stroked your fingers through his hair. “Not a chance.”

“Even you?”

“Especially me. I’m in too deep.”

He turned his head to look up at you. “Yeah, you are,” he said, quieter this time. “But so am I. You know that, right?”

Your fingers paused.

“I know,” you whispered. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes softened, none of the usual showboating, no clever comebacks. Just that rare kind of Tony Stark quiet that only surfaced when it was real.

“I used to think being loved meant impressing people,” he said. “But you don’t care about all that. You just… see me.”

You leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his temple. “Always.”

Unbeknownst to you both, down the hallway just outside the cracked door, Maria stood with her arms crossed, smiling so hard it might’ve cracked her face. Howard, beside her, blinked once.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he whispered.

Maria bumped her shoulder into his. “You are damned, but yes. He did good.”

Howard looked at his son, utterly wrapped around you, more human than they’d ever seen him and nodded, slowly.

“Yeah,” he muttered, gruff voice thick. “For once, he didn’t blow it.”

Maria wiped at the corner of her eye, totally-not-tearing-up thank-you-very-much. “He didn’t just not blow it. He found someone who knows where the steam cannon button is and still sticks around.”

Howard smirked. “Then it’s settled. She’s the one.”

“Obviously,” Maria said. “I knew before she finished her first roast.”

And with that, they padded off down the hallway like two extremely smug parents who knew their work here was done for tonight.

[eprfireworks]

How Fire Departments Can Stay ISO Compliant Using EPR Fireworks Fire Records Management System

Fire departments operate under immense pressure to respond quickly, manage resources effectively, and maintain compliance with industry standards. A significant challenge they face is improving their ISO ratings, directly impacting funding, insurance costs, and community trust.

The ISO evaluates fire department operations using the Fire Suppression Rating Schedule (FSRS), which assesses emergency communication, water supply, department capabilities, and community risk reduction. Additionally, state and federal funding agencies often consider ISO scores when determining financial support for fire departments, making it essential for departments to improve training, response times, and infrastructure to secure funding and enhance community safety.

Managing fire department operations without a dedicated Fire Records Management System (RMS) is inefficient, time-consuming, and prone to errors. Manual paperwork creates administrative burdens, makes compliance tracking difficult, and limits access to real-time data—critical factors affecting response times and overall effectiveness. 

EPR FireWorks provides a data-driven Fire Records Management System (RMS) designed to help fire departments streamline operations, enhance response times, and improve training and reporting compliance—key factors in securing a better ISO score. 

By automating incident reporting, hydrant tracking, training documentation, and resource allocation, EPR FireWorks helps departments meet ISO criteria efficiently while focusing on their core mission: saving lives and protecting communities.

What Are ISO Ratings and its Classification that Fire Departments Must Know

ISO ratings are a critical benchmarking tool that evaluates a fire department’s ability to protect its community. The rating, also known as the Public Protection Classification (PPC), ranges from 1 to 10, with 1 being the best and 10 indicating inadequate fire protection. These ratings are determined using the Fire Suppression Rating Schedule (FSRS), which assesses emergency communications, water supply, fire department capabilities, and community risk reduction. 

A strong ISO score also influences fire departments’ funding opportunities, resource allocation, and overall operational effectiveness. The following are some ISO classifications for fire departments.

Class 1 – Superior fire protection services with optimal emergency response, training, equipment, water supply, and risk mitigation.

Class 2-4 – Very good to excellent fire protection, with minor training, equipment, or water supply deficiencies.

Class 5-6 – Average fire protection capabilities with adequate resources but potential weaknesses in response times, training, or hydrant coverage.

Class 7-8 – Below-average protection with limited resources, insufficient water supply, and outdated or inadequate firefighting equipment.

Class 9 – Minimal fire protection, typically in rural areas with no fire hydrants and long response times.

Class 10 – No credible fire protection services available, meaning homes and businesses are at high risk in case of fire.

Fire departments striving for better ISO ratings must focus on improving emergency response, investing in modern equipment, enhancing firefighter training, and leveraging technology like Fire Records Management Systems (RMS) to streamline operations.

Fire Suppression Rating Schedule (FSRS) and Its Role in ISO Scoring

The Fire Suppression Rating Schedule (FSRS) is the primary tool used by the ISO to evaluate a fire department’s capabilities and determine its Public Protection Classification (PPC) score. The FSRS assesses four key areas, aka emergency communications (10% of the score), fire department resources and operations (50%), water supply (40%), and community risk reduction efforts (up to 5.5% credit). 

Each factor determines how effectively a fire department can respond to and suppress fires. A department that excels in these areas—maintaining well-trained personnel, modern equipment, reliable water sources, and proactive fire prevention programs—can achieve a lower ISO score, reducing insurance premiums for residents and businesses. Using technology like a fire RMS, fire departments can streamline data collection, track training compliance, and optimize response times, all of which contribute to a stronger FSRS evaluation and an improved ISO rating.

Breaking Down Fire Department Reporting Challenges & How EPR FireWorks Helps Solve

Accurate and efficient reporting is essential for fire departments to improve emergency response, meet compliance standards, and secure funding. However, many departments face significant challenges in managing their records and data. The following is a breakdown of common reporting obstacles and how EPR FireWorks provides the right solution. 

Data Inconsistencies and Incomplete Records

Manual data entry often leads to errors, missing information, and inconsistencies in incident reports, training logs, and equipment tracking. EPR FireWorks automates data collection and standardizes reporting formats, ensuring accuracy and completeness.

Time-Consuming Manual Data Entry

Traditional paper-based documentation is inefficient and prone to human error. EPR FireWorks eliminates redundant data entry with digital forms, auto-fill features, and cloud-based storage, allowing firefighters to focus on emergency response rather than paperwork.

Interoperability Issues Between Systems

Fire departments often struggle with integrating different software systems for dispatch, reporting, and compliance tracking. FireWorks fire reporting seamlessly integrates with Computer-Aided Dispatch (CAD), NFIRS (soon to be NERIS), and other essential platforms, enabling smooth data sharing across agencies.

Challenges in Meeting ISO and NFIRS (soon to be NERIS) Standards

Meeting ISO and NFIRS (soon to be NERIS) reporting standards is crucial for funding and compliance but can be complex. EPR FireWorks ensures fire departments adhere to these standards with built-in compliance checks, automated report generation, and real-time performance tracking.

Lack of Real-Time Data Accessibility

Delayed access to fire incident reports, hydrant status, and personnel readiness can hinder decision-making. EPR FireWorks provides real-time dashboards and mobile access, ensuring first responders and administrators have up-to-date information whenever needed.

Inaccurate Resource Documentation

Poor tracking of equipment, hydrants, and apparatus maintenance can lead to operational inefficiencies. EPR FireWorks streamlines resource management by providing automated asset tracking, equipment maintenance logs, and expiration alerts for critical supplies.

Budget Constraints and Technology Adoption Barriers

Many fire departments, especially volunteer-based ones, face budget limitations that prevent them from adopting modern record-keeping systems. EPR FireWorks offers a cost-effective, cloud-based solution that reduces IT overhead while improving efficiency and compliance.

Difficulty in Tracking Community Engagement and Fire Prevention Efforts

Fire prevention programs and community outreach initiatives are crucial for public safety but are often underreported. EPR FireWorks includes tools for tracking community engagement efforts, public education initiatives, and fire prevention activities, ensuring departments can demonstrate their impact effectively.

By addressing these challenges, EPR FireWorks helps fire departments enhance operational efficiency, improve compliance, and save lives through better data management.

Proven Strategies to Boost Fire Department’s ISO Score with EPR FireWorks

A fire department’s ISO rating directly impacts its ability to secure funding, reduce insurance premiums for the community, and enhance overall emergency response capabilities. By leveraging EPR FireWorks, fire departments can improve their Public Protection Classification (PPC) score through efficient data management, streamlined reporting, and automated compliance tracking. Here’s how:

Enhancing Response Times Through Better Resource Management

Quick response times are a critical factor in ISO scoring. EPR FireWorks optimizes resource allocation by tracking personnel, apparatus, and hydrant locations. With automated dispatch integration and mobile access, departments can ensure rapid deployment, reducing emergency response times and improving ISO evaluations.

Improving Training Records and Personnel Tracking

ISO evaluates firefighter training hours, certifications, and participation in drills. EPR FireWorks simplifies training documentation by automating attendance tracking, certification renewals, and performance assessments. This ensures departments meet ISO’s training requirements while reducing administrative burdens.

Ensuring Accurate Water Supply Documentation

A fire department’s water supply system accounts for 40% of the ISO score, making accurate documentation essential. EPR FireWorks provides a centralized platform for tracking hydrant inspections, maintenance schedules, and flow testing results. With real-time updates, departments can demonstrate compliance with ISO’s water supply standards.

Strengthening Reporting and Compliance with ISO Guidelines

Consistently maintaining NFIRS (soon to be NERIS) and ISO-compliant reports can be challenging. EPR FireWorks automates incident reporting, ensures accurate data entry, and generates reports that align with ISO guidelines. This helps fire departments maintain detailed records, meet regulatory requirements, and improve their overall PPC classification.

By implementing EPR FireWorks, fire departments can efficiently manage data, improve response capabilities, and enhance compliance—key factors in securing a stronger ISO score and providing better fire protection for their communities.

How Fire Departments Can Stay ISO Compliant Using EPR Fireworks

ISO compliance is essential for fire departments to maintain operational excellence, improve Public Protection Classification (PPC) scores, and reduce community insurance costs. EPR FireWorks simplifies this process by automating NFIRS (soon to be NERIS)-compliant incident reporting, tracking training hours and certifications, and ensuring up-to-date water supply records. With real-time dashboards, departments can efficiently manage hydrant inspections, personnel readiness, and apparatus maintenance, directly impacting ISO scoring.

Beyond compliance, EPR FireWorks enhances resource management and community risk reduction efforts. Fire departments can demonstrate reliability and preparedness in ISO audits by streamlining fire prevention documentation, equipment tracking, and emergency response coordination. This comprehensive approach secures a better ISO rating and strengthens fire department operations, ensuring safer and more resilient communities. We’re here to help, so if you’d like to schedule a demo of our fire RMS, contact us.

[merrybloomwrites]

She's (Not) Afraid

Summary: Y/N's living her best life as a guitarist for One Direction until faulty tech leads to an unexpected injury. Luckily, her boyfriend Niall is by her side to help her through.

Word Count: 1.7K

CW: burns, fire, injury

AN: Welcome to Whumptober! I'm a big fan of whump and hurt/comfort so I'm excited to be participating this year! Quick note that I am not a medical professional so if there are any incorrect details here, I'm sorry! I tried to keep it as accurate as possible.

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Never in a million years did you think you’d get hired as one of the guitarists to tour with One Direction. But still you had to try. So you sent in your audition tape, not expecting to hear back. 

But then you did. And they had you come play in person. After a few more auditions in front of numerous people, you got offered the job. 

It’s been a dream come true. It’s hard, intense, the schedule is packed with shows, travel, rehearsal, recording. But even though you’re exhausted, you’re having the time of your life. 

You’ve grown close with all of the boys, but by the end of the first tour it was clear there was something special between you and Niall. It makes sense, since you both played guitar, leading you to spend more time with him than the others. 

So it didn’t come as a surprise to anyone when he’d asked you on a date right when the tour was over. 

It’s been more than a year of you and Niall being together and everything has been perfect. He’s an absolutely wonderful boyfriend, and you’re over the moon in love with each other. 

He knows everything about you, every dream, every favorite, every fear. 

Which is why he tried so hard to fight against pyrotechnics being used for this tour. He knew you had a bad experience with a campfire when you were young, and it had left you with some trauma and fear of fire. 

You wouldn’t go near another bonfire or a lit fireplace, never mess with sparklers or fireworks, even gas stoves made you nervous because of the open flame. 

But management insisted that pyrotechnics were non-negotiable. Niall continued to press and got them to agree that nothing would be set up close to your spot on the stage. 

Now, months into the Take Me Home Tour, you’ve gotten used to the flames shooting up at every show. You still don’t love it, but there must be something to be said about exposure therapy, because by this point you barely notice it anymore. 

You’re on stage, playing guitar in front of thousands of people, sharing some secret glances with Niall. You’re on top of the world, the excitement and adrenaline running through your system making you feel invincible. 

But then your worst fear comes true. You finish “She’s Not Afraid” and go to switch guitars. You place your current one on the stand, but before you can grab the other one, a wave of heat rushes over you. 

Hands grab you and pull you away, but not fast enough. Your left arm is radiating the worst pain you've ever felt. It’s all you can focus on, the sounds of the people in the arena going silent as your ears start ringing. 

You’re shaking head to toe full body tremors, your breaths coming out as broken gasps. Familiar arms slide under your legs and around your back in order to carry you off stage. You tuck into Niall, letting his presence comfort you. 

He places you down on a folding chair backstage, taking your right hand in his when you begin to cry at the separation. 

“I’m right here, baby. Just giving them room to check you out, see where you’re hurt,” Niall says. 

You nod to show you understand, taking a deep breath to calm down and finally choking out, “I think it’s just my left arm. I was reaching for the guitar so that was the closest so I think it’s the only spot that got hit.” 

“Okay, that’s good sweetheart. Chris is here, he’s going to check the burn.”

Slowly, you extend your left arm to the EMT crouched next to you. He’s gentle as he cradles your arm, turning it to see the extent of the injury. 

After a moment he says, “It’s mostly surface level, but there’s a couple spots that are definitely second degree. You can see here, where it’s blistering,” he explains pointing to a spot on your skin. Rather than looking at it you watch Niall, who is focused on every word Chris says. 

“Does she need the hospital?” Niall asks. 

“Yes, she’ll need to see a doctor. I’m going to run cool water over her arm first and then she’ll need to be brought to the hospital.”

“Niall!” A shout catches everyone’s attention, Niall whipping around at the sound of his voice. Robert, one of their least favorite members of management, is walking over. “Encore time, let’s go,” he says. 

“What are you talking about? A member of the band just got burned on stage and you’re continuing the show?”

“They disconnected the faulty tech. Michael’s going to fill in for her. And you will go back out there and tell the audience that it’s a mild burn and everything is just fine.”

“I can’t just leave her-” Niall begins to argue, but Robert cuts him off, saying, “You can, and you will. Now get out there and finish the show.”

Knowing he had no choice, Niall quickly cups your face in his hands. He presses a kiss to your lips and says, “I will be right back. You’re in good hands, Chris is going to take care of you. I’ll only be gone a couple minutes, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply, though this situation is anything but okay. 

Niall leaves and your anxiety spikes once again. 

“C’mon kid, let’s get you patched up,” Chris says as he helps you up. He leads you back to your dressing room and into the bathroom within. He leaves you standing there for a moment while he starts the shower and gets it to the correct temperature. When he turns back to you he notices how shaky and pale you are and how quickly you’re breathing. 

“Y/N, I’m going to have you lay here and put your arm in the shower. Careful, gently now,” he says and he helps you lay down on a couple of towels that another EMT placed down. Chris leads your arm into the stream of water and it stings at first before you finally feel relief from the burning. 

Minutes pass and suddenly more voices fill the room. 

“Baby, I’m here,” Niall says and he holds your free hand once again. You look at him with a weak smile and he asks how you’re feeling.

“Better,” you answer. “Doesn’t hurt as much. I’m a little cold.” You’re just realizing that you’re shivering, which you feel is wrong considering you literally got hit with fire, but maybe the cool water is really doing its job. 

“Grab a blanket,” Niall says to someone behind him and you turn in time to see Louis step away. You look out the doorway and see the other boys standing there, all wearing matching expressions of worry. 

“Guys, I’m okay,” you say, hating how scared they look.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to be okay right now. We’ll take care of you,” Niall says.

“I love you,” you reply, not able to keep that thought in. You’re used to being strong, you’ve never been one to be coddled. And Niall knows that. He’s the first person who’s been there for you. It’s still unusual for you to depend on other people, but you’re grateful for the reminder in this moment. 

Louis comes back and hands Niall the blanket which he then gently places over you. 

“How much longer does she need to keep her arm under the water?” Louis asks.

“Few more minutes and then I’ll wrap it up so she can get to the hospital,” Chris answers.

“Ni?”

“What is it, baby?”

“Can you have everyone else leave? Please?” Immediately understanding that you’re overwhelmed by all the attention, he turns to Louis and asks him something quietly. Shortly after that the room clears of everyone except Niall, Chris and the other EMT. 

“Time to dry and wrap it,” Chris says. He turns the water off and pats the area. He’s as gentle as possible, but it still hurts. You turn to Niall who leans close and presses kisses to your face to distract you from the pain. 

Once the wound is covered you head out to the ambulance that they insist you take, which feels more embarrassing than anything. Niall stays with you the entire time, holding your hand for the drive there as well as the entire hospital visit. The doctor there examines the burn, applies cream and bandages it once more. He gives strict care instructions which Niall listens to intently, promising the doctor that he’ll be making sure you heal properly.

Luckily it’s not a travel night, and you head back to the hotel at some godforsaken hour of the morning. Management doesn’t even try to fight it when Niall joins you in your room, knowing that’s a fight they wouldn’t be winning. 

The pain medicine is doing its best, but you’re still somewhat uncomfortable by the time you get in bed. Niall holds you close to him, singing quietly to lull you to sleep.

Of course peaceful sleep is too much to ask for, and you’re plagued by nightmares, multiple ones that are so intense they wake you up sweating, unable to catch your breath. Niall is there, never complaining about the lack of sleep, letting you cry and vent as much as you need.

You’re given time off to recover, and though management still argues to keep the pyros, only two remain onstage, far away from the band. 

Your fear of fire returns, worse than ever. And while some people may laugh at you for getting scared by lightning or campfires, Niall never joins in. He validates your fears. He understands where you’re coming from and never belittles you. 

Over time your burn heals, though the scar remains. You hate looking at it, seeing how ugly it is and remembering one of the scariest moments of your life. But Niall is always there to tell you how beautiful it is, and to remind you how strong you are. While you hate that this happened to you, it’s proved that Niall is there for you, no matter what. And that means the world to you.

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AN: Thanks for reading! Louis x reader up next in 2 weeks!

[th3-new-rom4ntics]

illvermorny (yes with two Ls) in my wizarding world dr

introduction;

one of my least favourite aspects of the wider harry potter universe is the lack of interest that the author has in fleshing out the universe. there are so many questions that i, as a shifter and fundamentally curious person, have about how magic works, different magical societies and more.

the map above is a map of all the wizarding schools in the world. not many, right? and to top it all off, the way they perform magic is identical between schools. again, ridiculous.

in reality, this is not how society works. i'll use philosophy as an example; eastern and western philosophies are fundamentally different due to how isolated these two geocultural entities were from each other and how their values were intrinsically different, especially in the past.

so, when i was narrowing down my harry potter reality, i decided to make my own version of illvermorny school that i felt was far more fleshed out compared to the vague, uninteresting backstory that the author gave.

maybe if she spent less time being a transphobic prick and more time actually writing an interesting story, i wouldn't have to do this, but i digress.

here's illvermorny, where i attended school in my dr. (as an additional note, i spelt illvermorny with a double l at first without realising that it was one l, but it eventually stuck because i thought it looked better.)

part one (history);

there are about 200 or something magic schools in the world. most are small, regional schools focused on providing a decent education in magic to open up doors. some, like durmstrang/beauxbatons/hogwarts/illvermorny, are incredibly prestigious, open to only the absolute best students or those from prestigious families.

illvermorny college of magic was founded when the first pilgrims settled in america, unaware of the wizarding stowaways on the mayflower. although the indigenous peoples of america have their own magic traditions, the few wizards that snuck onto america to escape the chaos of england after the founding of hogwarts were the ones that brought the ‘spell system’ of magic to the country. the first students at illvermorny were young, muggleborn wizards and witches, the first of its kind. indigenous students were allowed to study as well, creating a culture of magic that went beyond the typical pureblood-muggleborn dichotomy of europe and britain. the school's first few years were incredibly proseporous as the magical community thrived in early america.

eventually, however, suspicions rose amongst muggles about illvermorny and the earliest recorded witch trials happened. young wizards and witches were rounded up like cattle and burned at the stake for so-called satanic activity.

only a couple of wizarding families managed to escape, trekking up to applachia, creating modern illvermorny. early modern illvermorny had many strange, outright cultish rituals due to its isolation.

part two (culture);

the school only started accepting new students during the british colonisation period, through a scouting program thats famous across the world for its scale and intensity; illvermorny scouts are said to be absolutely everywhere in america, mexico and canada. students outside these countries have to personally message principal regis to request an interview.

the modern school has no dorms and no sorting totally unlike hogwarts. rather, there are three housing towers where students stay, named after water (maem), fire (iesh), air (avir), the three classical elements. - students live, eat and sleep in these dorms, where the majority of their relationships will be formed. along with that, there are 5 covens active at illvermorny, which is how extracurricular student relationships are fostered.

students board k-12 and spend all of their youth at the school. classes operate on a university style elective system for years 7+ where different timing of classes and professors are highly valued.

there is no uniform or dress code during class, however there is a formal uniform for special occassions.

wands in illvermorny is very different to hogwarts. wands are highly customisable, and typically glass blown by artisans. they are made for the user, customised to their preference. a famous wand making family is the van der zee family.

the actual curriculum at illvermorny in the early years is focused on practical applications of magic. spells are taught exclusively non-verbally at first, and wandless as well. in senior years, high specialisation in fields is prized, particularly because illvermorny values academic rigour. - illvermorny participates in the quadwizard tournament with beauxbatons, hogwarts and durmstrang, and have won 200 years in a row.

part three (american wizarding society as a whole);

blood purity is not nearly as prized by american wizards. rather, wealth is. wealthy, old money, prominent families such as the hastings of pennsylvania rule over american wizarding society. although these oligarchs claim to care about progress, what they value most is maintaining their power.

on another note, american wizarding society is very secretive. the oldest wizarding families have almost no interactions with ‘nomajs’ due to their fear of persecution. each state in america has its own magic community, but the two most prominent ones are in NY and california. a strong rivalry exists between these factions.

the strongest debate in american magical politics is that of the nomaj problem. so-called traditionalists and progressives argue about nomaj’s connection to magical society, if families of magical students should be aware of their status and even if nomaj should be allowed to interact with magical beings at all, even in a non-magical context.

[democracyunderground]

March 13 (Reuters) - A U.S. judge has ordered Elon Musk and his Department of Government Efficiency to turn over a variety of records and answer questions describing their efforts to slash federal spending. Wednesday night's decision by U.S. District Judge Tanya Chutkan in Washington, D.C., came in a lawsuit by 14 Democratic state attorneys general against Musk, DOGE and Republican President Donald Trump.

The states argued that Musk violated the Constitution by wielding power that only officials confirmed by the U.S. Senate can exercise under the Appointments Clause, and sought materials from him through a process known as discovery.

Chutkan, an appointee of Democratic President Barack Obama, said her order focused mainly on who at DOGE was making cost-cutting decisions and how far they could go.

"Defendants argue that the 'inner workings of government' are immaterial to an Appointments Clause claim," she wrote. "The court is not convinced, but that is a legal issue appropriate for resolution after fulsome briefing.

"At this stage," she added, "it is sufficient that plaintiffs' discovery requests intend to reveal the scope of DOGE's and Musk's authority."

The U.S. Department of Justice, which represents the defendants, did not immediately respond on Thursday to a request for comment.

Chutkan limited discovery requests to material concerning agencies, employees, contracts, grants, federal funding, legal agreements, databases and data management systems that involve or engage with the 14 states as well as entities they operate or fund.

She rejected the states' request to obtain sworn testimony through depositions, and said her order does not apply to Trump.

Republican and Democratic administrations have long resisted efforts to force top White House advisers to provide court testimony or information they consider privileged.

Musk and DOGE have until April 2 to comply with Chutkan's order.

The lawsuit sought to bar DOGE from accessing information systems at several government departments and firing federal employees or putting them on leave.

[pannman]

Fix it

Platonic Alastor x tech savy/graphic designer reader

He didn't quite understand you

In fact people never expected you to be friends, and it certainly didn't start put that way

You started out working at Voxtech, you spent hours designing advertisements and editing commercials but when Vox told you to start working for Valentino and editing his porn videos you refused. Vox gave you an ultimatum: work for Valentino or be fired. So with no job you decided to try your hand at redemption

You didn't count on Vox's greatest enemy being the facility manager

At first Alastor threatened you. Suspecting you might be a spy since you were associated with Vox but Charlie convinced him to give you a chance

So he mostly ignored you. Keeping conversations short. Especially since it seemed you guys had absolutely nothing in common

Charlie wanted to find away to put your skills to use for the good of the hotel. You suggested creating a website

Charlie loved that idea so you got to it. You designed and developed it. You made it simple but eye catchy. And you decided to regularly upload edited videos of the shenanigans going on the hotel to attract new patrons (and to give yourself some fun).

Charlie being the person that she is wanted Alastor and you to get along better so she came up with the brilliant idea for you to interview him and create a page on the website for first hand accounts

Alastor agreed and as long as it was not a filmed interview

You had prepared a list of questions

Q. Why did you decide to join the hotel?

A. I decided to help the pathetic princess in her silly little dream to watch others fail miserably in attempt to change their already determined fates as entertainment for myself

Q. What has been your favorite moment here at the hotel?

A. Possibly when Niffty released an entire colony of roaches into Angel's bed. That was quite hilarious!

Q. What progress do you think you or someone else has made thus far that's worth mentioning?

A. I finally managed to get my new radio tower to look exactly like the old one. It was nice gesture really. But I do have preferred place for everything

After that you didn't know if Charlie was still going to be for this idea

You really didn't think you and Alastor would ever see eye to eye until one night you woke up to a knock on your door

You jumped out of bed still in your pajamas and opened the door to see Alastor standing there

You were... quite surprised. He told you he needed your help and it couldn't wait till morning

You followed him to his radio tower to see his system short circuiting. He warned you not to get to close or you'd get a nasty shock

"You're the one who deals with this technology stuff, fix it!" You thought to point out the two issues here

1. You don't fix technology, you utilize it to make things

2. This radio recording system is really old and you only knew what you were doing with MODERN technology

But you could tell he was very agitated. You wondered how it even got broke in the first place

You decided to do the only thing you could think and you Voxtubed it

You found some weird guy with obsession for fixing ham radios and old vintage tvs and watched a few of his videos. After assessing the broken system there were a lot of similarities. And after one boring audio book and online purchase of some parts you fixed it

Alastor was impressed. He tried very hard not show it but he couldn’t help it.

Before he could get back to it. You decided to listen to last chapter of the audio book one last time to make sure it was up to code. Unfortunately you forgot to connect your Bluetooth

Alastor standing in the tower with impatiently tapping his foot waiting for you to give the ok so he can give his listeners a much delayed broadcast stiffened at the sound coming from your phone and static buzzed loudly in the air

"Lovely I imagine the imagery to this is just flashy and distracting as it always is" he says rather annoyed

"Actually" you replied "it's an audio book. There is no visuals. It's just sound. Someone reads aloud a book and records it for people to listen to" you pointed out

It was not that much different from radio

You apologized and told him you would connect back to your headphones so he didn't have to hear it

"You may leave it on" he said surprisingly. So you did

Finally when you were done you went about your business. Everything went back to normal. Except... Alastor kept calling upon you before every broadcast demanding you play your audio book again to look over his system to make sure it won't crash on him mid broadcast

And each time he told you there was no need for your headphones

You finally decided to grow a pair and challenge him

"Once again I'd like you to check it over and make sure it's up to code. Play your dumb sound book again and get to it" he spoke as if the audio book did not matter at all but you knew better

"Oh I have it memerized by now. No need to play it again" you responded mischievously

His eyes narrowed and you could hear the sound of a record scratch. "Now, now. I won't allow for any mistakes that would not end well for you. Now play it again" he demanded

"You know if you liked the audio book you could just say so. Also you don't have to listen to the same end chapter over and over again. I have other probably more exciting books" you proposed

He acted offended. "How dare you insinuate that I would enjoy something as pointless and boring as that." Of course he didn't want to admit that anything that came from technology could possibly be good in any way and he could never ACTUALLY like it. No way

"You know its not a lot different from radio. Telling stories with just your voice. Like any kind of art this is just another medium. Another way of expressing oneself. You don't have to suddenly be Mr. Technology guy to like audio books" you said

Alastor seemed to pause in thought. "Hmmm... fine. I guess... it wasn't too horrible to listen to literature being read aloud in a soothing voice. Maybe I'll give some other pieces a try"

And after that you were at the radio tower all the time. Playing audio books for him. You eventually showed him your art skills and showed off the new website. He taught you a lot about his Era and about radio. You guys even redid the interview live on his radio show. Though the results were still quite similar

Though Alastor still hated technology he respected that it was something you enjoyed. And he did listen to the occasional audio book, although it was more like he made you play it for him

An unlikely friendship had formed. And nobody saw it coming. But you wouldn't trade it for the world