#and does whatever the player wants. i woke up and that was my last straw

[azurechicken]

It is a good thing that the BG3 team is attentive and we get updates all the time, but where does it end? If they are going to continue changing stuff about the game per request, what will be there left of what they envisioned in the first place? Especially for character traits and dialogue, like making them kinder and more likeable, just because there were two more people asking for it and they happened to see it. I just don't want to see characters shift into generic ones just because of a need to respond to everyone's ideas

[wowweeharrystyles]

mixtapes & memories

Love Is A Mixtape by Rob Sheffield definitely had its impact on me & inspired me to write this piece. This is one of my favourite playlists, so I decided to write around it. 

Harry x Y/N | 5.2K words

(Italicized bits are flashback memories)

Here’s a link to the playlist, too !!!  https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1kPsDksn0oQcF9uOLIioUH?si=nGKLi3FBREyrcR5iAc9UbQ

It’s nights like these you look back on. Nights like these that you’ll remember forever. Nights like these are the ones you hope everyone you love gets to experience with the one they love. 

Dreams - Fleetwood Mac

A giggle bubbles in your throat as Harry presses a kiss to the soft skin under your ear. Harry nonchalantly pulls away as if he wasn’t intending on making a mark on your skin when he sees his car being pulled up by the valet. His arm leaves your waist as he pulls out a few bills to hand to the valet. Verbally thanking the young man, you walk towards the car and see Harry now waiting with the passenger door open for you. Shining him a bright smile you step down into the low riding Ford Capri. Before closing your door Harry helps you move some of the fabric of your skirt into your seat with you as to not close it in the door. He shakes his head with a smile before walking round to get into the driver's side. 

“What’re you shaking your head for?” you ask through a chuckle.

“Just look beautiful tonight, sometimes can’t believe I get to spend my time with you,” he says as he shuts the door and shifts into drive. 

You groan his name in faked annoyance. You really don’t have anything coherent to respond with but he knows the feelings go both ways. 

There’s a moment of silence while the cd that is in the stereo changes to the next song. You both still quite like the idea of mix tapes and prefer the sound of the 1970 stereo, (only having updated it by adding a CD player rather than an aux cord). Your favourite mixtape being the one in the player now. There’s a wide selection on this disk and in your handwriting, the title “feels like home” is scribble in sharpie on the top of the silvery-gold CD. 

There’s a wide variety of songs on this CD, some of your favourites, some of Harry’s, songs that you grew up listening to, it’s got it all. As you 2 got to know each other in the beginning you both discovered that music played a big part in how you were raised and grew up. 

Just about every single Saturday growing up, you were woken up by your parents blasting their music collection throughout the house. Dad would play Phil Collins or Fleetwood Mac and Mom would blast Paul Simon, Michael Jackson or Donny Osmonds and once in a while Shania Twain’s Greatest Hits. On the morning of your oldest sisters wedding she played “Going To The Chapel” at full volume, on repeat, to wake everyone up. 

Every Saturday, without a doubt, she would go one by one into everyone’s room and dance around and sing to whatever was playing downstairs. It wasn’t always your favourite way to be woken up but looking back on it, you miss it from time to time. 

Sometimes Harry will try to recreate these Saturday mornings - with a fresh cup of coffee in hand - dancing around in his boxers, his latest favourite blasting through the apartment. It only makes his regal flat feel more like home and makes up for the time apart.

Harry’s mother, Anne, had raised Harry with similar music taste. The 2 of you liked to compare first experiences with Fleetwood Mac and stories passed down by both of your parents. Your dad repeatedly recalls taking his baby blue Ford van down to Florida for spring break the year Rumours was released, blasting the album on the hot, packed beaches throughout the coast of Florida. Harry recalls Anne singing along to Landslide and Dreams as they drove around Cheshire. Dreams was the first song he learned all the words to. 

The opening drums of ‘Dreams’ vibrates through the speakers of the car as Harry starts to drive away. He starts to sing along right away. You know he doesn’t realise that he always does this and it makes you smile everytime you hear his smooth voice 

I’ll Be There For You - The Rembrandts

Neither of you can bare to miss the claps at the beginning so when Harry can’t get his hands off the wheel to clap along, you restart the track. Both of you break out in a fit of laughter at the ridiculous habit and continue singing as loud as you can, dance moves included (at least what you could manage while buckled into your seats). Harry’s signature “rain starts to fall” hands always make you roll your eyes before tossing your head back and laugh even more while still trying to sing along. 

Honestly, neither of you have been able to keep track of how many times you’ve rewatched F.R.I.E.N.D.S. on your own, nonetheless together. (It’s a lot and you’ll both just leave it at that.) Harry had suggested that you 2 should start watching it from the beginning together when you two ordered takeout one night in the first month of knowing each other. That night repeated over and over again, neither of you caring to go out on fancy dates so much, only wanting to spend time together. 

You had just finished season 6 the night before Harry had to jet off to Japan or New York or Italy (honestly, you can barely keep track). While facetiming one night while he was gone you caught a glimpse of his tv screen in his hotel room. 

“Harry?” you questioned. 

“Yes, love?” 

“Are you watching FRIENDS without me?”

“Uhhh…” he stutters out, looking back at the TV that was playing without sound. “I can explain!” he rushed out. You faked an annoyed look (even though you were actually kind of annoyed by it). “Listen, babe, love, sweetheart, I was bored and missing you… I thought i’d just watch one episode…” 

“One?!?! Looks like you’ve definitely watched more than one!” 

“I’m sorry, love!”

“Fine, well that means I have to catch up, then. What episode are you on?” 

“Uhm, I think episode 4,” he whispers. 

“4?!?! Harry!!” 

“I’m so sorry!!! Like I said, I was bored and missed you. Always reminds me of you.” 

“Oh come on, be a normal boy and have a wank if you miss me.” 

He shouts your name in surprise. “Oh my god.” His cheeks start to turn a light pink shade. 

“Oh, stop blushing. You’re acting like a child. Be a man, have a wank or call me, don’t watch FRIENDS.” 

After a short moment of silence you both meet eyes and burst into a fit of laughter. 

That specific conversation gets brought up every time Harry has to leave, a little inside joke. Between “I’ll Be There For You” and the next track Harry suggests that you 2 should start rewatching FRIENDS again. 

“That’ll be like the 5th time,” you comment. “Think this time you’ll be able to make it through the entire show without watching an episode without me?” 

“I can’t make any promises,” he confirms with a giggle. 

Still Crazy After All These Years - Paul Simon

There’s a handful of Paul Simon on this mixtape. You have your mother to thank for that. After dinner each night your mom would put on a Paul Simon album while you did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen as a family. To this day you’ll opt for Paul Simon’s Greatest Hits while you clean yours and Harry’s home. He knows this music makes you feel like you’re back home with your family and can nick away at the homesick feeling you get once in a while. There’s something about the classics - “Still Crazy After All These Years”, “Diamonds on the Soles of Your Shoes” “Kodachrome” - that make your heart light and bring a smile to your face. 

During one trying week, Harry had used the Greatest Hits Album to settle you down. Work had been awful, one thing after the other, day after day, nothing went right and you were at the end of your limits. To add to the that Harry had been traveling back and forth for the better part of 3 weeks. A text from your parents asking how you were and when you would be visiting next had been the last straw. 

Harry came home mid day on a Saturday and on his way into the house he dropped his belongings in a trail from the front door to the bedroom. That morning, you had decided to try to turn your mood around, knowing Harry would be home soon, you went out to a yoga class and picked up groceries to make Harry’s favourite meal. When you got home after him, you proceeded to trip over each of his belongings on the way to the kitchen. You were cursing loud enough that it woke him up. He came downstairs in a pair of workout shorts and a messy head of hair. 

“Baby!” He exclaims when he sees you putting away the food. When he tries to give you a hug and kiss you shrug him off. 

“You left everything all over. I tripped on every single fucking bag on my way in. I get that your tired and traveling sucks but at least fucking put it all in one spot.”

“Woah, I’m sorry,” he says, taken aback. Nothing from their conversations earlier this week or even this morning had lead him onto the mood you’re in now. 

“Don’t even,” you say with a bit of a bite to it. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” He asks with equal bite. You whisper a ‘nothing’ and continue what you’re doing. “It’s not nothing if you’re this upset” 

“Just leave me alone, Harry.” 

“I haven’t seen you in days!!! I’m not just leaving you alone. I fucking missed you and I have no idea why you’re acting like this.” 

“It’s not my fault that you haven’t seen me. I’ve been here this entire time. Not all of us get to jet off to be an international rockstar and do no wrong. I got ripped apart this week at work. Everything I did was wrong, I fucked up, you don’t know what that’s like.” you take a deep breath, tears building in your eyes. “and now my parents are nagging me about coming home to visit and I can’t take any more time off work cause I’ve used it all to come see you on tour.” When you wipe the tears from your eyes you see the look on Harry’s face and your heart drops into your stomach. You’ve never spoken to him like this and you never meant for anything to come out like this. “I’m sorry,” you yell even though you don’t mean to, “I just miss home and I’ve been so lonely without you here and I don’t know, it all just came out.” He doesn’t respond and now you’re embarrassed and beyond upset about all of it. You whisper an apology as you turn and leave the kitchen.

Everything hurt as you fell to the bed. You groan a little in annoyance when you immediately smell Harry’s cologne on the bed, fresher than it’s been in weeks. Tears fell to the pillow for what felt like ages. You didn’t know what you wanted to happen next. Did you want him to come find you and try to say something to make everything better somehow? Were you hoping you would muster up the courage to put yourself back together and go downstairs begging for him to forgive you? You really had no idea. It was a while later when you could start making out sounds from the 1st floor. It wasn’t until the music got louder that you paid more attention. 

One room of speakers at a time (he can be such a cheeky fucker sometimes) the music eventually reached your bedroom where you were still laying face down on the bed. ‘Still Crazy After All These Years’ echoed through the entire house now. While wiping your face with a cool cloth as you realised what he was doing. You quietly made your way back down the stairs and peaked into the kitchen where Harry was busy cutting up some veggies on the large island. When you come into view, Harry puts down the knife and wipes his hands off on the cloth that is hanging off his shoulders. 

“I’m sorry, Harry. I really didn’t mean what I said. It all came out wrong.” 

“Shhhh,” Harry shushes you as he brings you in for a hug. “You’re right, I don’t know what it’s like at your job and I haven’t even bothered to ask.” He says after pulling back to look you in the eyes. “Being homesick doesn’t help when you’re stressed, either. And it really doesn’t help when I’m gone either.” 

“I’m still sorry. I should’ve never said any of that. I yelled at you. You just got home. I’m so sorry.” Harry kisses your forehead. “I’m so sorry. I can’t even believe what I said.”

“Its okay, baby. I accept your apology. We’re good, okay?” You nod and he kisses your forehead again. “Thought some Paul Simon might calm you down.” you nod again, a small smile playing on your lips. “And I’ve looked at the calendar, no need to take work off, we’ll go back home to visit your parents in a few weeks. Leave Friday Night come back Monday morning. I wouldn’t mind some time away from work and the city either.”

Paul Smon continues to play and you give Harry a big hug, burying your head into his chest. You really can’t believe how you got so lucky. You spend the rest of the night making dinner together, dancing around and singing to the Greatest Hits Album that’s playing through the entire house. Later that night Harry brings a bottle of wine and 2 glasses to the living room where the 2 of you sit on the ground in a pile of blankets and pillows and you share every single detail of what happened at work. 

When you’re back at your childhood home a few weeks later, you and Harry are in the kitchen with your parents, Paul Simon playing and cleaning up after dinner. 

The start of the memory may not be the best you and Harry but it ends on a good one and there are plenty more that outshine it. Paul Simon can fix a lot you figure. Makes you feel like you’re home wherever you are. 

Don’t Wait - Mapei

“Can we get fries and milkshakes?” you ask with a bright smile on your face, lashes fluttering in attempt to persuade him. You know he won’t say no, regardless. You both know that once one of you mentions fries and milkshakes that it’ll be a long night of driving around town, city lights casting the perfect backdrop. 

About 8 months into your relationship you had called Harry randomly one night. You had just seen him hours ago at lunch but he had a night full of meetings about whatever project he was working on currently and you both knew it was going to be a long night so you had retired back to your place for the night. You were surprised when he answered, the background on his end also surprisingly quiet. 

“I’m craving fries and a milkshake,” you had stated, receiving a chuckle from Harry on the other line. 

“I’ll pick you up in 15 minutes.”

“What?” you said unbelieving. 

“Just got home, getting out of this dang suit. I’ll be there in 15.” You were silent on your end. “You want fries and a milkshake, yeah?” you hum a yes. “Okay great. I’m in love with you and I want to see you. We’re getting fries and milkshakes.” You huff in disbelief. Even if you did have some sort of response you don’t know if you could get it out (still a common occurrence to this day).“Love, still there?” 

“Uh yeah,” you say through an obvious smile.

“Great. Leaving now.” 

When you get into Harry’s car he greets you with a kiss and then a toothy grin, dimples on full display. He looks cozy and relaxed in his threadbare tshirt and yellow adidas track pants, you can’t see his feet but you know, without a doubt, he’s wearing his white vans. 

Once you’ve got your fries and milkshakes, one vanilla and one chocolate so you can share, Harry picks up his phone and presses play on a new song. You hadn’t heard the song before, but as it progresses it adds to your already light, happy mood. With the cool breeze flowing through your hair with the windows down as Harry takes you both on a drive you can’t help but lean over and place a quick kiss on his cheek. His eyes wrinkle on the outside corners. 

“Fry?” he asks just like how he asks ‘kiss?’ time and time again. His voice is just loud enough to hear over the music, and you quickly oblige his request as if he were to reach for a fry himself his free hand that isn’t attached to the steering wheel would have to leave it’s warm, comforting spot on your thigh. 

As Harry pulls away from the drive-thru, a bag of fresh fries in your lap and 2 milkshakes in the cupholders, you skip through a few tracks before you find “Don’t Wait” by Mapei. The intro of the track instantly makes Harry smile and he reaches to turn up the volume. When you turn to feed him a fry you giggle at the sight of his huge smile, gums on show and eyes crinkled at the side. 

A friend indeed, come build me up

Come shed your light, it makes me shine

You get the message, don't you ever forget it

Let's laugh and cry until we die

If it wasn't for you I'd be alone

If it wasn't for you I'd be on my own

Some things never change. 

 Make You Feel My Love - Adele

You’re thankful for the frozen milkshake and you allow it to cool you down as the hot LA breeze blows through your hair. You still don’t know your way around LA very well but you recognize the direction Harry is taking. There’s a small lookout point on the hills where you know you’ll end up in the next 10 minutes. 

Taking the milkshakes and bag a fries with you, you both step out of the car after Harry has parked in the perfect spot at said lookout point. You’re the only 2 out here, it’s probably passed midnight by now. He’s left the car on enough just to keep the mixtape playing. 

“Sometimes I wish we could’ve grown up together,” you say out of the blue while flipping through your old yearbook. You’re trying to find an old group photo with your High School group of friends. With a friends wedding coming up you’re trying to find all the best photos for part of her gift. 

“What makes you say that?” Harry asks from the couch above you. “We get to grow old together instead.” 

“It’s just, looking through all these old photos, I can’t help but wonder what it would have been like to have experienced High School together. Imagine football games on Friday nights, or going to the christmas dance!” you exclaim. “Oh! I bet you would have been really creative with asking me to the Prom.” When you notice the confused look on his face you remember that 1. British schools were much different and 2. He didn’t do the whole high school experience regardless of the country. “Well I guess you don’t ever have those thoughts cause you never experienced those things in the first place.” You laugh to yourself. “I still wonder what it would have been like.” 

“I think 17 year old me would have been scared shitless to ask you to prom, nonetheless to pick you up that night and have your dad answer the door.” 

“Oh my dad loves you and you know that.” 

“Hah, he didn’t right away! Imagine if he met me when I was a teenager! I would not be sitting here right now.” 

“You’ve got a point, I guess.” You go back to flipping through the yearbook in front of you, once in a while showing Harry a photo. 

“I’m gonna go grab a glass of water, need anything?” You shake your head no and thank him before he leaves the room. 

When Harry comes back to the living room he’s without a glass of water but has gained a black suit jacket on top of his t shirt and sweatpants. You look at him, confused. 

“Harry, what are you doing?” He doesn’t respond, instead you start to hear music playing through the speakers. Pulling his hand from behind his back he presents you a flower, a rose from the vase in your bedroom. You laugh, still confused, but accept the rose anyways. 

“Would you dance with me?” He asks offering his hand to you. You take it and let him help you up off the floor. 

Harry wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him and you slide your arms around his neck letting your hands dangle at the back. 

“You’re unbelievable,” you say quietly. 

“I know this isn’t anything like your Prom, but a slow dance is a slow dance yeah?” A small smile forms on your lips before you press them to his. You let your fingers play with the curls at his neck. Resting your head on his chest you let him control the dancing, swaying around in circles. He’s humming along to the song and there’s something about Adele that is so quintessentially high school. You close your eyes and let yourself pretend that you’re back in high school. When the song ends you lift your head up and thank him with another kiss. 

Later that night you take back your earlier statement. It’s when you’re sitting at the dining table with a hot meal presented in front of you that Harry made himself that you realise that you would rather be here now how the 2 of you are instead of having grown up together. You agree that growing old together sounds like the best thing in the world.

“Doesn’t matter the time or place, I’ll love you always,” you say, “but I like this time, I like right now.” 

When “Make You Feel My Love” starts to play, Harry sets down his shake and takes yours as well to set down with his on the hood of the car. 

“Can I have this dance?” He asks. It’s almost like he planned the timing. You sway with each other for a moment before you’re both so wrapped up in each others arms and the kisses become deeper that the dancing stops and you just basque in the presence of each other and this moment. The cool wind continues to blow through your hair and it only gives the 2 of you an excuse to pull each other closer to one another. After the song ends and the mixtape continues, Harry wraps his arms around your shoulders, now having his front to your back, he pulls you back with him as he leans against the hood of the car. He rests his lips near your ear, placing kisses along your ear, jaw and neck as you both take in the view in front of you. 

“I like right now,” he whispers your words back to you from months ago. 

I Wanna Get Better - Bleachers

This song had a handful of memories linked to it. Hundreds upon hundreds are with your childhood best friend and one specific one with Harry. Right now, you’re both singing at the top of your lungs without worrying how either of you sound. You were both shivering a little after staying at the lookout for too long. Now you’re trying to warm up a bit and singing along at full volume seems to be helping. 

Harry had come home to a silent house one night, eventually finding you puffy-eyed with tear streaked cheeks curled up on the couch in the dark. Noting your phone thrown across the room, he approached you cautiously. 

“Love?” he almost whispered, not to startle you. “Love, what’s going on?” He questions when he meets your face. Sitting down on the floor in front of you he wipes your cheeks before questioning you again. “Gotta tell me what’s wrong so I can help ya.” 

“Did you see the article?” you stutter out. You know he doesn’t go lurking around the internet so you can’t be angry about him being clueless to why you’re upset. He shakes his head eventually before he slowly grabs his phone. 

The first article that comes up when he searches his name makes him curse under his breath. Someone’s hacked your private social media accounts and photos of you growing up, family information and anything and everything is all over the tabloid sites. You knew this was part of the territory, dating a musician, model, actor, all of it, but this was much worse than some papz photos with Harry out for coffee or post yoga. 

Harry does his best to calm you down, holding you against his chest, apologizing up and down for putting you in situations like these. At some point a little while later, you’ve relaxed and decide make a joke in hopes to make yourself and Harry, a little bit better. 

“It’s a good thing you’re pretty, otherwise it wouldn’t be worth it.” A look of fake offence washes over his face. “Love you,” you add before kissing him lightly. 

“Come on,” Harry says pulling you up off the couch. He turns the house speakers on and presses play on his phone. “I Wanna Get Better” starts blasting through the house and you can’t help but smile. Your best friend and you would always blast this when one of you were having a bad day. It never fails to make you smile and forget whatever was bothering you. This song automatically forces a wide smile across your face and with how swollen your eyes are from crying, you can barely make out the image of Harry dancing around in front of you. The rule is you have to play the song on repeat until you can’t remember what had hurt you in the first place. It’s takes a few rounds of the track and a handful of kisses from Harry to get you to forget why he started playing the song. 

“A little better?” he asks when the 4th play comes to an end. You nod with a smile before pulling him for a kiss. 

“Much better.” 

Though this song is always played during bad times, it’s nice to hear it during happy ones. It reminds you of times with your best friend from home and it reminds you of Harry’s kindness, how he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, make you feel loved and be 110% sure that you’re happy. 

Fallingforyou - The 1975 and Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol

You slipped ‘Fallingforyou’ by The 1975 on shuffle when the 2 of you took your first road trip together. Driving from Harry’s place in LA to a getaway in San Francisco for a few days, you had opted to drive instead of fly (more time just the 2 of you). The conversation died down for a moment, both of you engulfed by the epic scenery in front of you. You had control of the music for the most part, Harry making requests once and awhile, but it had been forgotten while the two of you had debated which was the best romcom ever made for the better part of an hour. So when you both agreed that having different favourites was okay, the silence was welcomed, small smiles on both of your faces. That’s when a feeling of absolute contentment washed over you. You knew exactly what song was needed for the moment. 

Your relationship wasn’t that new, but it wasn’t as official as it is now. You hadn’t said ‘I love you’ yet, but you both knew the thought was there (you hoped he’d say it sometime during this trip and if he didn’t you definitely would). 

You always loved this song. You remember hearing it live for the 1st time when you saw The 1975 on a whim during your first year of university. You cried. You couldn’t really help it. Though you’ve never related to the lyrics exactly in the way they’re meant to, they still hit you. Right now, this relationship isn’t one sided, you know that but, I think I’m falling, I’m falling for you, hits you harder than it did when you heard it live. 

Harry’s got his wrist resting on the top of the steering wheel, the other resting in his lap. His curls are a bit unruly from the wind that has been blowing through them, his skin has a soft tan to it.  You can’t help the smile that crosses your face. Harry must see your smile from the corner of his vision because he takes a quick glance at you and returns the grin, crinkles appearing around his eyes. The hand that was resting in his lap searches yours out and you happily accept the gesture. 

On this night, and in this light, 

I think I’m falling, I’m falling for you. 

Tangling your fingers with his, you bring them up to your mouth and press a soft kiss to the back of Harry’s hand. You hold his hand with both of yours in your lap now. The wind blows through your hair and you sing along to the words quietly and it’s not till the end of the song that you realise that Harry had been singing along as well. 

It’s when Harry’s driving you back to your hotel after dinner that night in San Francisco, ‘Chasing Cars’ by Snow Patrol playing quietly in the background, that he says “I love you.” 

‘Fallingforyou’ transitions into ‘Chasing Cars’ and Harry pats the open space between the 2 of you in the front seat. The traffic light in front of you turns red and you take the opportunity to slide from your side of the car to the side of Harry’s torso, his arm wrapping around your shoulder immediately. Rebuckling yourself into the middle seat, he presses a kiss to your hair and whispers “I love you” repeatedly until the light turns green. 

~~~

As the speakers quiet, the track list coming to an end, Harry turns to you and locks eyes before speaking. 

“Should we play it again?” He asks. Without missing a beat you press play on the stereo. Neither of you have any obligations in the morning. A late night of driving would most definitely turn into sleeping in the next morning, then spending the day reading in bed and watching silly romcoms. Driving all night sounded like the best plan in the world. 

Landslide echoes through speakers and the empty roads around you, Harry’s voice quietly singing along. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of this mixtape.

Let me know what ya think !! feedback & comments are always welcome !  THANK YOU FOR READINGGGG <3 

[marvelsbestsuperheroine]

Waiting - IronWidow Request

TonyNat angst with a happy ending? Natasha's secretly in love with Tony but she thinks after his break-up with Pepper, he would never even try to love again. She was wrong.

A/N. Hello! Apologies for the delay. My laptop is no longer usable and I need a new one. I’m posting this on mobile and I’m still getting used to the formatting so forgive me if it looks weird. I’ll work on the next request as soon as I can.

- Rose

Tony and Pepper’s split was highly publicized. For ten years, it was impossible to get a public appearance of Tony Stark without spotting his assistant Virginia Potts somewhere in the background, running the show and overall just keeping everything together. Over the course of Ms. Potts’ tenure there had been rampant speculation about her and Mr. Stark. Her progression to CEO of Stark Industries was not a quick one but even then people speculated that she only got the job because of Stark’s fondness for her.

And it was true. He was fond of her. But that wasn’t why he made her the CEO in 2010. She was truly the most capable candidate with the most experience and highest qualifications. But most importantly, she had proven time and time again that she was trustworthy, something Tony valued her highly for.

They did get together not long after her promotion, which sent rumours flying. But neither of them cared that much what the paparazzi had to say. They needed to have good PR for the company, sure, but they didn’t have to believe anything that was said.

For a while, they had a good relationship. Tony put his all into being there for her. He dropped hundreds of thousands of dollars, maybe millions, to make Pepper happy. Anything she wanted, he would give her, even things she maybe didn’t want but Tony thought she might appreciate. They communicated openly and were honest with each other. But like every couple, they had their problems.

As Iron Man grew in popularity, so too did Tony Stark. As Tony Stark became more Iron Man, he became less involved in Stark Industries. When the Avengers formed, Pepper was happy that Tony finally had people he could talk to about the whole superhero thing. But then Tony became busier than ever, more traumatized, more hurt more often. Pepper worried herself sick over him constantly. His myriad of pre-existing issues intensified the more traumatic events he had to live through and she hated watching him suffer. Watching was a suffering on its own.

After the battle of Sokovia, when Tony broke his promise of toning down his obsession with the suits and when he accidentally built an evil robot that nearly destroyed the world, Pepper asked for a break. Nothing permanent. Just time apart to reflect and be alone.

Tony had resisted. Hard. He’d put his foot down, dragged his other foot behind him, and threw a tantrum when nothing else worked. That had been the last straw. Pepper didn’t want to marry someone who still had tantrums like a child.

So she packed up her things and left and Tony kicked himself until he was blue and broken. When he stopped to think about it, he picked himself back up and vowed to win her back. He threw himself into his work - not as Iron Man but as Tony Stark, owner of Stark Industries and major player in the clean energy sector and liaison between the U.S. government and the Avengers. He hoped that signing the Sokovia accords would relieve him of some of his duties as Iron Man, that maybe then Pepper would see that he was trying to compromise, to make it work... for her.

Natasha watched all of this with a careful and sneaky eye, never snooping too much but always prying a little more than strictly necessary. Her heart broke for Tony, who had nothing but good intentions and a desire to save the world and everyone in it. She knew better than anyone what it was like to try to redeem yourself. She also knew how people who got too close could hurt you the most and she sympathized. There had never been anyone after Alexei, never anyone who could even come close. Steve was her closest friend and confidant but even then she kept him at arm’s length. He was too good for her, anyway.

But Tony... Tony was a deeply flawed human being. He was broken in ways that Natasha wasn’t and vice versa. He was an addict. He could be so single-minded that it blinded him to anything else. He was impulsive. He was cocky.

Natasha was in love with him. And she couldn’t for the life of her understand why. It had been years - years - since Natasha had felt like this. But she was fascinated by him, utterly entranced. Nothing would please her more than to hug him and tell him that everything would be okay.

So she sided with him in the civil war to come. She had her own reasons too. But if she was being honest with herself, at least a small part of her just wanted to stand by his side and say, ‘I’m here for you’. He didn’t seem all that grateful, so wrapped up was he in his longing for Pepper.

Natasha knew, then, that whatever she felt for Tony would never come to fruition. Tony pined for a woman who complemented him in every way, a woman who was his polar opposite, a good woman with no shady pasts or murderous ways. A woman he could trust. If there was one thing to be said about Natasha that everyone agreed on, it was that she wasn’t very trustworthy.

In the end, she had proven that to Tony in the worst way possible by betraying him to side with Steve, the one man who had put all of his trust, all of his faith in her.

When the dust was still settling, after breaking the other Avengers out of the Raft, Natasha paid Tony one final visit to say good-bye and to apologize. She found him in his bedroom, two bottles deep into a stupor, one eye still back and blue and one arm still strung up in an awkward position. It struck her then, just how alone Tony must feel. His best friend was in the hospital recovering from being paralyzed, his girlfriend of four years had left him, the team he’d called a family abandoned him...

Natasha folded herself to climb through his window and he let her. What was the point in stopping her? He had nothing now. It had all back-fired in his face.

She sat on the floor next to him, cross-legged. For a while, they sat together in the darkness and said nothing. He continued to drink and all the while the room only smelled worse (which is why Natasha left the window open).

“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “For everything.” Her whispers seemed like screams in the silence.

Tony took a while to respond. “I should be angry,” he croaked, taking another swig. “But I can’t feel anything. I should hate you with my whole being. You betrayed me when I needed you most. I wish I could hate you. I want to hate you. But why can’t I?” He pondered this as he took yet another swig, finishing the bottle and then letting it roll away from him.

“You can,” she said quietly back and tugged her knees in towards her chest. “You should.”

He shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t because I understand why you did it and all it does is make me hate myself for putting you in that situation in the first place.”

“Tony...”

“Am I a horrible person?” He turned to look at her with sunken eyes, red-rimmed and watery. His head hung low, heavy with the weight of the world.

“No, Tony,” she assured and scooched closer. They sat with their backs against the end of the bed, their hips touching. “You’re just a man looking for redemption.”

He buried his face in his hands. “I thought I had it. For Christ’s sake, I thought I had it. I had the perfect girlfriend and I stopped my company from selling illegal arms to the enemy and I became a freaking superhero and I worked okay with the others and-” He was shaking.

Natasha hesitated. She wasn’t very good at this stuff. But she wanted to try. She slowly wrapped an arm around his shoulders and soothed him, rubbing his back and holding him close.

“Why are you here?” He asked suddenly, clamming up.

Natasha froze. “Me?” She repeated stupidly. “I, uh, I’m... I’m here to...” Her first instinct was to lie. But he didn’t deserve that. Not after everything. “I’m here to apologize.”

He gave her a disbelieving look.

“No, I’m serious. Look, watch.” She pulled back a little so she could more easily look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Tony. For everything. I never wanted to hurt you and Pepper was a fool to leave you, especially like this.” Too honest, she panicked. Too honest!

Tony merely blinked. “You think Pepper made a mistake?”

The hope in his eyes made Natasha’s gut sink. Nonetheless, she agreed. “Yeah.”

And then he was kissing her, warm lips pushing firmly against hers, clumsy hands pawing at her hair and his weight shifting to lean over her, to knock her over. She let him and they tumbled to the floor in a heap, toppling the other empty bottle and making it roll away. His breath reeked of alcohol but she didn’t mind.

It felt so good to be passionate like this. She had forgotten what it felt like not to fake it, to let it happen spontaneously, naturally. It was addicting, like inhaling a drug and feeling immediate effects. She opened her mouth to let in more, guided his hands to her hips, pulled him closer.

She didn’t stop to think because thinking would mean stopping and she didn’t want this to ever end. Whatever the consequences, she would deal with them. But for now she let herself enjoy this, let Tony have this. Together, they shared a night without regret or guilt, something they both sorely needed.

—————

Natasha woke up to a man she had pined over for years naked beneath her and playing with her hair.

“Morning, beautiful,” he said.

Her answering smile was so bright that it looked as if it made Tony’s hangover even worse. He kissed her anyway.

“Good morning,” she returned and snuggled closer, pulling him tighter and vowing never to let go. “How are you feeling?”

“In pain,” he replied honestly, “but happier. Just knowing that someone thinks it was Pepper who made the mistake and not me... It gave me a lot of my self-confidence back.”

“Oh,” said Natasha, wondering if she should be disappointed.

“You valued me,” he continued. He stared up at the ceiling as he spoke but he was most definitely speaking to her in an impossibly intimate sort of way. “And you had faith in me. Even when I fucked up, you had faith in me. And I... I can’t possibly begin to explain what that means to me.

“And you’ve shown me that there’s a world outside of Pepper. That if I don’t get her back I can still....”

Natasha wanted to say that she wouldn’t be his second choice. But she knew in her heart that she would. If he asked her, she would. Because she didn’t feel this way about anybody else and she didn’t deserve anyone at all, let alone this kind, generous, selfless man whose bed she was lying in.

Oblivious to her inner turmoil, Tony plowed on. “I still love her. I’ll always love her. And I’m not ready for anything else just yet. But tonight- er, last night... you helped me. I’ll remember that. Maybe someday I’ll be ready but-”

“I’ll wait,” she blurted, not registering that her brain and mouth didn’t seem to be communicating very well.

Tony shifted to get a better look at her. “You will? Cause I think someday I could be ready for whatever “this” is but not today. Someday. You’ll wait?”

Their eyes locked. In his, she saw only sincerity and a broken man whose fractures matched her own.

“I will,” she promised. “I’ll wait.”

[canaryatlaw]

okay, well today was pretty good, though I’m kinda irritated right now over some stupid shit. but yeah, I slept until I woke up, you know, as one does, and when I woke up it was like, 11:40ish. which is like, average for me on any day, but I felt slightly bad about it because I’m like on vacation and stuff, but like, nobody woke me up, that’s not my fault, they could've woken me up but they chose not to lol so I didn’t feel all that bad. Basically we had said we would see what the weather was like because the forecast has been rain all week, and if it was nice we would go to the beach. Well, it was pretty nice apart from a few dark clouds, so we resolved to go to the beach. Last night my sister had texted me when we got out of the play and asked us to bring her a donut when it was like, 10:30 pm on a Wednesday night and apparently they don’t have any 7-11′s around here so we could not get her a donut. As a result of this, we had planned to stop at dunkin donuts on our way to the beach so she could get a donut. So I changed into my bathing suit and got ready. The bathing suit top I was wearing I’ve owned for like, two years now, and had like tried it on and stuff but never actually wore it because the tag was still on it (like last year I just straight up forgot to bring a bathing suit with me). I have to get bra sized swimwear because I can’t fit into normal bathing suits, so it was a size 36HH, which isn’t really the size I’m currently wearing (the bra I was actually wearing was a 32I but I think it’s just that style, the other few I own are more like 34H or 34HH). so it fit but was a little big, I’m trying to think of how to describe it lol basically there was extra fabric between the bottom of the bra wire and where my chest actually started, but like it was okay. they still kinda stuck out in a way that made me feel kinda awkward, but I found that when I was in the water it stayed in place (which has been an issue in the past, not just with swimming) so I was pleased with that. I made sure I took time to put sunscreen on and make sure it was rubbed in. So we set off for the beach, I went with my girl cousin and sister, my aunt and parents were in the other car. We stopped at dunkin donuts, I hadn’t really eaten anything yet so I got a bagel (bad choice because not New York) with strawberry cream cheese and a “cosmic cotton candy coollatta” which I have no idea how it is different than a normal cotton candy collatta but whatever. They gave me the bagel toasted, which I hadn’t asked for (I think it’s weird that people assume you want your bagel to me toasted??) and with a packet of cream cheese, but without a knife or anything to put it on, so I was inventive and used an extra straw to apply the cream cheese to my bagel lol. So we drove on and made it to the beach, the red flags were up marking certain areas you weren’t supposed to swim in because apparently the rip tide was pretty bad. so we sat for a bit then I went in the water with the girls. A little cold at first but we adjusted quickly, the water was kinda choppy and the waves were breaking really prematurely so we couldn’t really jump any waves in the fashion I generally want to when at the ocean but it was still fun, so we went in for a bit and then retreated to where we set up the chairs and relaxed for a bit. There were some ominous looking storm clouds looming nearby so we started discussing if we were going to leave soon, the adults (actual adults, not including myself who I know am objectively an adult but shhh) wanted to stay a bit more but the girls and I packed up our stuff and headed back. I had seen an ad for dairy queen on twitter that they were doing a promotion where they’re donating money from all the blizzards (if you’re not familiar, it’s basically their version of a mcflurry or friend-z) to local childrens hospitals and I’ve been dying all summer to get one of their special summer flavored cotton candy blizzards (yes I am slightly obsessed with cotton candy flavored things at the moment) but haven’t made it there yet because *someone* doesn’t want to take me.....so I seized upon this moment to make my case to stop at dairy queen, and so we did that, and it was very enjoyable. So we returned to the house and I showered, the overtone deep treatment I used Monday night has still been shampooing out super neon pink (which I kinda love) but it was also my day to use conditioner (I only use it every 3 days so my hair doesn’t get greasy) so I wanted to use my overtone conditioner, so I did and idk if it helped but I’m fairly satisfied with how my hair color looks right now. So after that I went on my laptop for a bit, and the adults arrived and started working on dinner, at which point I snuck back to my room for a bit to do some official lawyerly business (I’m 90% kidding) for about an hour until dinner was ready. My aunt made this mexican bake thing which I’m always a bit wary about because with mexican and similar types of food it’s very difficult for me to be able to tell if I can eat it before putting it in my mouth, but luckily in this case I could eat it so that was good. It was pretty much just tortillas layered with corn, black beans, and cheese, and while I’m generally not a big bean fan it was pretty good. After dinner there was a bit of commotion as we figured out what we wanted to do, we eventually decided we were going to play the game “Psych!” which is done through the phone app everyone has to download and it’s basically balderdash if you’re familiar with that, but basically it asks a question like “what is [player’s name] favorite hit song?” and then everyone has to write an answer and then everyone votes on what answer they like best (without knowing whose is whose) and if someone picks yours you get a point. I was winning for a while but ultimately ended up in 2nd place, which I wasn’t all that miffed about lol it’s not a big deal. We did some of “head’s up” another phone game involving guessing a certain thing with others giving you clues or something like that. I’m the best at clue giving of course so I dominated there, lol. I’m just really good at games in general. The girls went to do something else then and my aunt wanted to find something to watch on netflix or amazon and they eventually settled on this PG movie that was called like “who gets the dog?” or something like that about a couple getting divorced and basically fighting over who gets to keep the dog. So I watched that with them for a while, it was moderately interesting, but then when it was like 10:15 and I knew the legends podcast was going to do their live episode at 10:30 I snuck off to go listen to that. It was fun as always, being in the live chat and making comments in always entertaining, so I enjoyed that (even if they’re not thrilled about Nora). That went on until about 12:30 or so, I did some other computer stuff for a bit and then started writing this. Thrown in between all of these things Jess and I decided we are officially going to be crazy and after spending Saturday at HVFF New Jersey, that night we’re going to fly to Portland and on Sunday do the con there that has Brandon Routh and Caity Lotz, then flying back to Chicago Sunday night. So that should be WILD, definitely looking forward to that. and yeah, that’s pretty much it. don’t really have any solidified plans for tomorrow, I think the girls want to get their nails done so I would probably join them there even though my nails are all super short right now and already somewhat painted, though I’ve let it chip a bit the last few days, so if I got like a gel manicure it could last me a few weeks and I’d be happy about that, and there may also be a mall trip involved, we’ll have to see. Right now it’s about to be 1:30 am so I should probably get to bed. Goodnight darlings. See you in the morning.

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

Another Night, Another Heart

So what’s clearly the best use of my time when I have a pile of Jopper fic half-written? Powering through a completely different idea instead of working on any of them! Don’t ask what the point of this is; it’s just me having fun with pining.

Joyce x Hopper, 1k with mildly explicit language, Stranger Things. Cross-posted on AO3.

Summary: Post-S1 Hopper POV; when casual sex gets complicated. 

Over the course of his life so far, Hopper might have met quite a few women who were interested in casual sex, but there wasn’t one he’d ever met who would sleep with him if she knew he was thinking about somebody else.

He really likes women.

He always has. Ditching high school to fuck pretty girls in the backseat was just a sign of good priorities, in Hopper’s opinion--certainly a better use of his time back then than quadratic equations.

Settling down eventually, becoming a dedicated family man, wasn’t difficult--he loved his wife and his daughter so damn much, it was never even a question.

But the hole that Sara’s death dug into him, he’s never been able to fill it back in. He tried volunteering first, thinking that helping other people’s kids would ease the pain and the guilt. 

When that just sharpened the ache in his heart, and he started to feel a bitter detachment toward every child who was luckier than his perfect little girl...that was when he turned to alcohol. 

It didn’t ease the pain, but it dulled it. It dulled everything, including him--the last straw on the back of his broken marriage.

Losing his wife, all but chasing her away, left him free to try whatever he wanted in her wake. And he let the hole swallow him up, for a while. 

Taking the job in Hawkins required him to function, but managing to rise to the level of functional alcoholic wasn’t that hard. Nothing ever happened in his hometown; little was demanded of him.

Until he walked into his office one morning, donut in hand, and found a pale, trembling, furious Joyce Byers waiting for him. 

While he pieced the puzzle of her missing son together, Hopper remembered how to demand more from himself. Because she did.

He wasn’t proud of the trail of warm, sated bodies he’d left in his wake after he first arrived in town. He wasn’t ashamed, either, but he couldn’t say it was his finest form of self-medicating.

The problem, as he saw it, wasn’t with meaningless sex. Sex was great, full stop--as long as everybody knew the rules. And maybe he was less clear in the beginning, when he was still stinging after the divorce, with the women he took to his bed.

He tries to pick bedmates more carefully now, players who understand the game. He tries to make his peace with the ones he hurt.

Mostly, though, he just tries to avoid them. It’s better for everybody that way.

And above all, he doesn’t get attached. That hole inside him, he can’t afford to make it deeper; he doesn’t know how close to the edge he’ll find himself standing on any given day. 

So feelings beyond the physical, he keeps a tight grip on those. It’s a reflex, a survival skill he’s honed more acutely than anything he learned as a Scout. He’ll happily screw willing women, but he refuses to love them.

That was never an issue before.

Joyce demanded trust and belief and dedication, she pulled at him until he gave, and while they were fighting to save her boy, Hopper got it all turned upside down.

He’s never fucked her, despite the gossip that reaches him with alarming frequency. He never came close.

But he loves her.

After he woke up in his bugged house, he cut back on the booze. No reason to make it easier for them, now that he knew they were out there ready to take advantage of any weakness. 

That just left sex, when he was raw and drowning in memories and wanted to be numb for a while. And even after he got more attention than he wanted saving Will, he still had a couple friends who would scratch that itch.

Only he can’t.

Over the course of his life so far, Hopper might have met quite a few women who were interested in casual sex, but there wasn’t one he’d ever met who would sleep with him if she knew he was thinking about somebody else. 

And he can’t stop thinking about Joyce.

The way she smiled through tears when he told her he’d proven her right, surrounded by Christmas lights and stubborn hope. Her eyes meeting his as they uncuffed her in the lab, full of worry not just for her own family, but also for him. The awkward, hesitant hug she gave him in the store, the first time they saw each other again after Will was home safe. 

“Thank you,” she whispered into his neck, so quietly that nobody else could hear. He carried the feeling of those words around with him for days. They sunk under his skin, burrowing into his heart and making themselves at home there.

They started to fill the hole. 

He doesn’t know how to live with the destruction of his careful walls, let alone deal with it. Acceptance doesn’t come easy. 

But if Sara taught him anything, it’s that when he loves, he loves hard. Without exceptions, without relief. Love isn’t a choice for him, though he sometimes wishes it was...and it can’t be buried because it never dies.

So when Joyce stops by to give him a drawing Will made of them in the Upside Down, when Hopper cracks some smartass comment designed to piss her off and get her out of his office and instead she just laughs, pressing her fingers to her mouth like she’s surprised to hear the sound--he knows it’s far too late.

He can’t invite willing women over anymore, because they’re not her. 

And he can’t invite her, because she’s got two kids to look after and a life that’s held together with duct tape and prayers, and she already knows him too well. 

What does that leave him with, if he can’t pass out on his couch before dawn or lose himself in someone whose name he barely remembers?

Hell if he knows.

But she’s in his path far too often during the course of everyday business now, shining brighter with her son safe again and totally unaware of how hard Hopper tries to keep himself from staring. 

It’s probably only a matter of time until the town stops insinuating, and starts outright calling him mental, just like Joyce Byers.

In his case, they’ll be right. 

Because seeing her every day and not touching her is driving him crazy.