#despite her being more than 24 hours early she will not miss it

[banschivs]

Nix is desperate to witness this 'city-killer' asteroid with her own bare eyes someone launch her into the atmosphere Right Now

[song-witch]

Chin Up, Buttercup

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,084

Warnings: Fluff! Southern Mommy Wanda. More fluff.

Summary: It's your big break, but the one person you want to support you isn't there when you need her.

A/N: I wrote this in like 24 hours, but yolo.

Part Two Part Three

“I’m so proud of you, darlin’.” The woman’s voice filled the calmness surrounding the two of you with a certain… delicacy that could only be made by her. It had a certain drawl to it, words weighed down by the sticky sweetness of the southern accent that clung thickly to her honey filled words. Everything about the moment was soft, something Wanda gave you endlessly, especially after the hours upon hours you had spent on your work.

It had taken you years to get to this point. To be able to finally put it up on display for the rest of the world, except for one. Wanda. You hadn’t stopped talking about it for weeks. Had it marked on every calendar the two of you shared, and even then some more.

And yet, she had missed it. Had gotten scheduled on some bullshit meeting that could get her fired from the company. You had told her multiple times that you could support the two of you, that your book would break record sales and neither of you would ever have to work again. Of course, that was wishful thinking, but it’s what had gotten you this far, isn’t it?

Wanda had left early that morning, earlier than normal, with a kiss to your head, a silent promise that she’d be home that night. It felt like a silent apology that she couldn’t make it to your first booktalk.

It was okay, though. You were a big girl who didn’t need Wanda at your side for everything you did. You tried to tell yourself that for the rest of the day, that you could do it all by yourself, even if it pulled heavily at your heart.

You did your best to pull through your day. You ate breakfast alone, debating on tearing the sticky note Wanda had left you a message on like other days she didn’t have time to eat with you before. It felt far too literal, though. Like that post it note was your heart and every little tear made it hurt even more. You settled for crumpling it up, tossing it across the empty dining table, a hard reminder of how utterly lonely you truly were.

You sat alone when you were getting your makeup done, your outfit picked out. You would blame the tears in your eyes on your makeup. Wanda was the one who dolled you up. But she had work. For hours you told yourself you could do it. You could stand up in front of a crowd and talk about the book you had spent all of your adult and most of your teen years writing, pouring every ounce of love, hatred and everything in between in it. It didn’t feel real, though.

Since you had met her, you had envisioned her next to you at this moment. Instead, you stood by yourself with a podium in front of you, the small beaded friendship bracelet twisted between your fingers. Wanda had randomly bought the kit for you one day and you had insisted she make one with you. They were matching, the only difference being your names on the piece of string.

“Thank you all again for coming.” Despite your earlier feelings of loneliness, you smiled brightly into the microphone, more than aware of the amount of photographers and press there.

Gingerly closing the book, you stepped away from the podium, scooping the item into your arms. Agatha pulled you towards a secluded corner, your team surrounding you. Right next to Wanda, she had been your number one supporter since you brought the rough draft to her. She signed you within a few hours, taking on the role as your editor and publicist like it was nothing.

“Good job out there, toots.” The brunette clapped your back, a toothy smile brightening her features. You smiled up at her, hardly able to hear her over the roar of your own heart beating along with the crowd of people ready to have their books signed by you. “Say, you keep wooing crowds like that and you’re gonna sell out in no time, kid.”

“Really?” The hope in your voice brought forth a new youthfulness to you, like you were a kid again. In a way, you were. You had wanted this since you had started writing, and here you were, your first book published and with a second well on its way.

“With that cute tush of yours? Everyone will be wanting more, sweets.” Agatha threw an over exaggerated wink at you as she laughed, using the hand that hadn’t left your shoulder as a support of sorts. Your smile faltered just slightly, a blush coloring your cheeks. It was something Wanda liked to tease you about, how easily it was to get you riled up. You would deny it forever, even though you knew she was right. “Speaking of everyone, where’s that ragamuffin of yours?”

The smile on your face almost immediately sank. You had been so busy the entire day that you hadn't had time to think about Wanda, let alone the fact that she wasn’t there. Agatha hardly noticed your change in demeanor, too focused on the buzz around you. “She… she had work.”

“Oh, that’s too bad, toots. I’m always here if you need a plus one.” Rather than comforting you, the woman shimmied beside you, yet another wink thrown your way. You had learned that she was like that sometimes. Way too much to handle. So you smiled and nodded, trying not to let the thought that your girlfriend wouldn’t be there to support you.

“Only kidding! Well, unless you two say otherwise. You know where to call me!” Agatha stepped away from her, her hand finally pulling away from your shoulder. It was the first time you felt like you could actually breathe during the entire interaction. You loved the woman, truly, but she could be a lot. “Go enjoy your party, hot stuff, you deserve it!”

And with that, the woman left, presumably to find the bar, leaving you to be pushed around by the rest of your team. You knew enough about the events of the day that you’d be signing books for the next hour, if not longer. You were grateful for all the time Wanda had spent practicing your signature, a nice, loopy design that made you feel proud of yourself. It was all you could think about as you were swept over to the long table full of your book, pushed down into the singular chair at the table, a line that was longer than it should be waiting for your signature.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

By the hour and a half mark, your hand was cramping, not used to writing with a sharpie for this long. The line felt like it had barely shrunken, still too long to see the end of. It was thrilling and disheartening at the same time; the faster you could sign all of these books and do whatever you were told, the faster you could get home to see Wanda. That had it’s own anxieties attached to it, but whether she could be here or not wouldn’t change how excited you were to see her. Sure, it sucked that she couldn’t be here. Really sucked, but you would be able to see her in a few hours and tell her all about your day. It would have to suffice.

Another hour passed before you could see the last ten or so people, the feeling of relief strong. You had been at it for over two hours now and, while you were beyond flattered and amazed to have this many people read your book, you were exhausted to say the least.

You wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up in your lovers arms, but you knew it would be at least a few more hours before that was even plausible. Faces began to meld together as the line continued to shorten, each person looking a little more like the next. As the last person approached, you breathed a sigh of relief, not even looking up as a book was slid between your hands.

“Thank you for coming.” You gave the person, a woman based on the high rise jeans and blouse they were wearing from where your eyes didn’t travel up their body, a tired smile just barely tugging at your lips.

“What? No sugar for me, sweetheart?” The words themselves made you feel gross, though the voice was recognizable. Something about the soft timber of it was reminiscent, like a fond memory you couldn’t let go of.

You were sure your confusion was evident all over your face, what with the way your eyebrows pulled together and your hand stopped moving, though you couldn’t care less if the signature was ruined or not. Your eyes traveled up the, yes, woman’s body, a familiar map of beauty stood in front of you.

“Wanda?” Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of her.

She had really gone all out, dressed as nice as possible for your big event. She wore high waisted black dress pants, paired with a deep purple blouse with even darker flowers printed across it. She was wearing your favorite wedges of hers. Her dark, faded out roots were pulled up in a half up, half down style, the long locks flowing down her back. It took everything in you to not let the tears that had filled your eyes to spill, pushing the book and marker away from you as you used the table to stand.

“Hi, pumpkin.” Wanda’s southern accent was the best thing you had heard all day, instantly warming you like nothing else had.

You all but flung yourself into her arms, uncaring of how hard you had hit the table with your thigh. Wanda would tell you to be more careful about it later, would kiss it better, you knew. You didn’t care about anything other than being in her arms, though.

“Wanda.” You all but whimpered into her neck where you had almost immediately pushed your face. She smelled the same as always, an earthy undertone that paved way to the light lavender you knew was her favorite perfume, even though she hardly used it. It fully encapsulated you, making the tears in your eyes burn even more as her arms wrapped around you.

“It’s good to see you too, sweetheart.” Wanda laughed heartily, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. Her hands ran up and down your back, a gentle strength to them that had you wanting more, to be held even closer. The hand holding your bracelet, her right hand, settled at your waist, while the other settled at the base of your head, softly carding through her hair.

She had held you like this far too many times to count, but you still melted in her hold, your breath hitching. The woman held you against her as you continued to fight off tears, taking in the sweet scent that enveloped you, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Time was non-existent to you once again as she stood holding you, humming softly. The only thing that you knew was that it was nowhere near enough time when she pulled back, holding you at an arm’s length with a beaming smile. She traced her left hand up to your face, cupping your cheek as she searched your eyes. You couldn’t help but smile back, biting your lip as it continued to tremble. Wanda shook her head, tsking under breath as she dropped her hand down to grasp your chin, tugging your lip out from between your teeth.

“You did so good up there, sugar.” Wanda pressed a kiss against your cheek, easily turning your head with the finger on your chin to press another to your opposite cheek. The nudish brown pigment of her lipstick just barely transferred onto your skin, something the woman would take a wet thumb to in mere moments. She kissed your lips chastely before doing so, giving you barely enough time to process what was happening before she was licking her thumb and rubbing at the lip marks.

“B-but… you…” You did your best to protest, shaking your head from side to side as you tried to escape her grasp. None of it made sense. She would’ve just gotten off of work maybe half an hour ago and would’ve had to book it through heavy rush hour traffic to get to your talk. There’s no way she could’ve seen you on the podium, let alone giving your speech.

“I what, hun? Use your big girl words now.” The brunette fixed you with a stern look as she stopped scrubbing at your cheek, tipping your head up. You couldn’t help but stare at her. The nude lip she had brought out the green in her eyes, the bright sun shining through the open windows forming something akin to a halo around her. She was gorgeous. Something straight out of one of your stories. It helped that the main character’s love interest had more than a few things in common with the woman.

“You… you were at work.” Your head cocked to the side just slightly, something you had definitely picked up from the woman, eyebrows furrowing. You pulled at your bracelet, the elastic snapping at your skin with a nice popping noise as the beads rattled. Wanda tsked, shaking her head as she grabbed your left wrist, pity written all over her face.

“Oh my, precious. I wasn’t actually at work. I was tryin’ to surprise you.” Her lips turned downwards, bringing your wrist up to her mouth with a kiss. It was obvious she wasn’t pitying you because you had snapped yourself with your bracelet, but rather because she knew how worried you must’ve been all day. The bracelet issue just happened to be a part of it.

“And what did I tell you would happen if you kept snappin’ that bracelet?” Her tone was anything but mean, if not more questioning than condescending.

The words had you easily blushing, tilting your head down as if to hide it. “That I wouldn’t get it back until you say so.” Your right hand hung loose at your side, left still grasped by the woman. You knew her eyes would be full of sorrow if you looked up, instead keeping your eyes down as you scuffed the ball of your foot against the tile. “‘M sorry.”

“Then why do you keep doin’ it, love bug? It hurts mommy when your hurt yourself.” Wanda’s voice was as sorrowful as you knew her eyes were, a tone of hurt overflowing her words.

You couldn’t help but look up anyways, your breath hitching at the sight of glossy eyes and a frown. It wasn’t often that she got upset with you in public, yet something about the silly bracelet you wore every day had made her tear up. The sight made tears come to your own eyes, your frown mimicking hers.

“I’m sorry, I’m trying!” You pleaded softly, watching as she snaked her finger up your wrist, easily interlacing your fingers. It was hard resisting the urge to kiss her, rocking back and forth just slightly on the balls of your feet. You hadn’t meant to upset her, hadn't even realized you were fiddling with the elastic until she had said something about it.

“It’s okay, pumpkin. I know you’re tryin’ and I am so, so proud of you.” Wanda’s free hand came up to hold your cheek, smiling softly at you as her eyes roamed your body, finally taking you all in. She hadn’t seen you since the night before, unless the way you slept curled up against her this morning counted, and had been dying to see you for hours, but had held off in hopes of surprising you.

“My baby girl.” Despite the fact that you had both been moments away from crying, a fresh shade of red covered your face, a heat protruding off of your cheeks as the woman pinched it with one hand.

“Wanda.” You groaned, suddenly aware of the fact that you were very much still in public. Your body twisted with you as you glanced around the room, thankful to see that no one was paying you any attention. Which was funny, seeing as how it was your booktalk.

That being said, you could feel a pair of eyes on you that certainly weren’t Wanda’s, spinning in the woman’s arms once again until you saw your editor. She was looking at the two of you with something you couldn’t detect. Jealousy? Disdain? Whatever it was, Agatha sent you a smirk and a wink as soon as you made eye contact before turning away from you.

You turned back to Wanda, slotting yourself under her chin once more. “When can we go home?” You asked in a small voice, uncaring if she could hear you or not. Of course she could though, her lips smacking quietly together.

“Whenever you want, buttercup.” Wanda could tell something was wrong, the way her arms wrapped around you even tighter than before was enough for you to know. You took a deep breath, frantically running your hands through her long hair. It was curled, tighter than usual, but not terrible. You felt weird all of a sudden, like your editor hated you and the entire room was shrinking.

“Can… Is now okay?” You asked a little louder. Wanda nodded, only pulling away enough to lift your chin up enough to meet her eyes.

“O-okay, sweet pea. We can leave right now, that’s what you want?” The woman phrased it like a question, her voice soft if not a little confused. You had been so happy to see her just moments ago, but now wanted to go home. Sure, she knew you weren’t the biggest fan of crowds, she herself wasn’t either, but she thought you would’ve wanted to at least enjoy the party before you left.

Whatever it was, though, she was more than willing to take you home, leaving you with a kiss to let your team know you were leaving before leading you out to her car, buckling you in before taking her spot in the drivers side. She took your hand in hers, the letters of your names on your bracelets rubbing against each other as she drove off.

[reminiscingtonight]

Why Are You Here

Alex Morgan x Reader

Word Count: 892

A/N: This was originally part two of If I Hated You, but I took that in a different direction and already written most of this so I thought I’d just post this as a separate piece anyways.

[WOSO Masterlist]

We can never be friends. 

You hate those words. Hate them especially more when you see the way Alex is dancing with one of her teammates. Close. Bodies pressed tightly together. 

You down your drink, ignoring the way it burns on the way down.

It’s not like she knows you’re here. 

When Kristie had first asked, you told her you wanted to go home. The blonde gave you a pout. “We haven’t been to the club together in a while.”

You had just finished 90 minutes against San Diego. The last thing you wanted to do was go out to the club. Especially when all of you had to be on a plane again in less than 24 hours. 

Good thing you don’t like doing what’s good for you. 

You showed up to the club late. It’s hard to pretend you didn’t dress up just in case you run into your ex. Though the way you haven’t left your seat and she hasn’t left the dancefloor makes all of your efforts seem for naught.

You can tell the second Alex notices you. Her body stiffens, still dancing with her friends but not as fluidly as before.

You turn away. An excuse is muttered to your teammates before you’re heading for the bathroom. 

The walls are thin, but still thick enough to mute the thumping of the music outside. You sigh out a quiet breath, needing the slight reprieve. 

When you exit the stall, Alex is already there. 

Neither of you say a word as you wash your hands. You eye her warily, but Alex doesn’t make a move to enter your vacated stall or leave. 

You try to walk past her. She doesn't let you.

You try to breathe through your nose when she backs you up against the door. She reaches past you, locking the door. 

Alex pulls back just far enough so she can look into your eyes again. You raise your eyebrow, daring her to say something. 

She doesn’t. 

Instead, she kisses you. 

You kiss her back. 

You don’t stop her when she slides a hand down your jeans. 

---

Alex is already sitting with the others when you stroll in for brunch. 

Kelley glares at you for being late. You pretend not to notice it. 

You take a seat next to Kristie, making sure not to sit directly in front of Alex. Neither of you acknowledge the night you had. The morning you spent cherishing the other. 

When you catch the waitress, ordering your choice of brunch, you know Alex is thinking the same thing as you. How you led her back to your place, despite both of you too sober to be doing so. How she pressed you against your mattress, not letting you up until she was more than satisfied and your bones felt like jelly.

When you take a sip of your water, you make brief eye contact with her. You’re thinking about the way you pressed careful kisses against her skin as you helped her put her clothes back on. The way you rubbed away a smudge of lipstick you had missed on her nose. 

When the food arrives, you’re both thinking about the way Alex held you tight as she made her way to the door. The way she pressed a kiss against your lips before she slipped out into the early morning light. 

Kristie’s hand dropping on yours pulls you back into the present. “Where did you go last night? I went to the bathroom a little bit after you did, but you were gone.”

“I got tired. Went home early,” you shrug, keeping your eyes glued to your plate.

“Party pooper,” Kristie rolls her eyes, oblivious to the way Kelley’s glare kicks up two notches. 

You pretend not to notice it again. 

Alex doesn’t say a word either. 

Thankfully Kristie lets the subject drop, quick to talk about her holidays with Sam when you plant the seed.

Brunch passes without much fanfare. 

You’re quick to head to the bathroom before you all leave. Another brunette follows you to the bathroom this time. 

You’re washing your hands in the sink when Kelley lets her disapproval be known. 

“Are you serious?”

“Don’t.” Your words are deadly sharp. 

“You told me you were going home,” she reminds you. “You said you wouldn’t let Alex get to you again.”

“Why does it matter? We aren’t friends,” you snap, echoing what Alex had muttered into your ear before she resumed sucking a hickey into your neck. “No one’s getting hurt.”

“No one but you,” Kelley sighs. 

When the two of you leave, you pretend not to notice the way Alex watches you and Kelley with narrowed eyes.

---

You’re not sure how you got here. Everything happened in a blur. The celebrations. The drinks pressed into your hands. 

You’re not sure how you got here. But you can’t find it in yourself to complain. 

Alex tightens her grip on you, pressing herself closer against you. 

“We can never be friends,” she mutters, almost as if she’s trying to convince herself of her words. She only leaves your neck long enough to mutter those words before she’s kissing her way up your jaw again. 

You hum, but don’t say a word. 

No. You can’t be friends. But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy this while it lasts.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 4/2/2024

in which i try to clean two different boxes with varying success

new people: hello! the tuesdaypost is a weekly roundup of stuff i've been listening, reading, watching, playing, and making. it is NOT a recommendation series, although i sometimes dabble in critique. when im firing on all cylinders i ask "what is the core concept of this? does it succeed in what i think it's trying to do and what it says it's doing?is it well-made but i dislike it/beautiful but not for me? why? what parts Really Work?"

if you are into purity culture, yelling at other people about the problematic media they consume, or are under 18 i am going to have very little patience for you.

listening

now that i live in houston i am legally obliged to loop the new beyonce album 24/7. there is absolutely truly nobody fucking doing it like her. every song is a multimedia art piece. goddamn do i miss the album as a tool to convey a specific concept/listening order/flow. sometimes (chappell roan most recently comes to mind, although it does feel unfair to compare anyone to beyonce) every individual song is pretty good but the listening experience if you sit down and listen all the way through the album is unpleasant and choppy. not so here. NEVER here.

my favorite like Dance Number is YA YA (it samples nancy sinatra's boots! and the beach boys' good vibrations! wildly different tones despite coming out a year apart!)

the one that goes on four different character/tone playlists is BODYGUARD.

great early roundup of influences, samples, and collaborators. delighted to see five fingers for marseilles listed, a rocky but underrated south african neo-western free on tubi rn for americans

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reading

also very texas-relevant with the recent pornhub lawsuits! pornhub and sex tech (among other things) have been samantha cole's beat for almost ten years. i trust her to report sensitively and not for like. shock clicks

this site has a free paywall (sign up with your email for a link to the full article) so bots have a harder time scraping articles: this is a journalist-founded site with only the four founders running it and writing articles. while annoying i do think this is a reasonable measure

The platform still has problems, but after years of critical reporting and a litany of legal and reputational consequences, Pornhub is now more heavily moderated than any other porn platform, and most major social media platforms, for that matter. A growing list of age verification laws has put Pornhub in a position where it is compelled to block access to its site in seven states and counting. In theory, these laws are designed to prevent children from being able to access pornography online. In reality, what is going to happen is that children are going to end up on pornographic sites that don’t care what the law says, and where some of the most harmful content that exists online is actively promoted to them.

she's also got a new limited series podcast with CBC about the rise and fall of pornhub, which was fascinating and kept me company during an extremely early morning drive

-

watching

i'm lukewarm about this one but i spend a lot of time getting there, much like this movie

ive been watching a lot of frankly dogshit thrillers, which has made me wonder: what's the deal with supervillans? where did they come from? and thence arrived at the prototypical film Dr Mabuse the Gambler (1922, dir. Lang). the four and a half hour cut on Kanopy is two normal-length movies superglued together, which makes sense as a streaming product but it is sort of a terrifying runtime and took me three days to get through.

sometimes, as we know, i get a real bee in my bonnet about visiting the early versions of things. dr mabuse is the blueprint for every james bond and mission impossible villain, or really any shadowy supervillain with power over [INDUSTRY] or [THE MARKET]. it is a four and a half hour long cat and mouse game through lavish, eccentric sets between mabuse and prosecutor wenk. it has some trouble sustaining itself bc it is four and a half hours long but does deliver on the cat and mouse aspects. this letterboxed review has interesting things to say about the political climate of 1922 germany and how lang subverts the formula of the pulp serial.

really the film opens with mabuse yelling at his cocaine-addicted assistant, but the film properly gets going with mabuse's henchmen stealing a trade agreement (nothing really carbon dates a movie more than a missing trade agreement. vanishingly few post-early-30s movies have missing trade agreements as plot points) and then he crashes the stock market. for fun and profit.

however. i think every time you see an evil man who is a banker or stockbroker or generally uses money as power you have to interrogate whether it's antisemitic. the answer here is "maybe" but i'm not sure if intent matters when contemporary nazi critics were eager to hold mabuse up as "this is the typical jewish criminal". (sorry about the link directly to wikipedia, it's been touch finding online sources for this section). mabuse is not specifically jewish, but there are certainly elements of stereotype. i am still not good at being presented with "this movie has a shadowy behind the scenes figure manipulating the government and all the money ever" and going "hey wait a minute".

after that tremendous glaring caveat, for which i read more contemporary reviews and reviews in general than i ever read for movies in these posts, is it good? eh. a contemporary VARIETY review remarked (and i largely agree)

The direction of Fritz Lang has moments – but Lang somewhat negates his good technical effects by twenty forty-word captions of a ludicrous unconciseness.

the night scenes are particularly well done, and imo are better than many modern night scenes--other contemporary reviews remarked

In this film the techniques of the film camera (Carl Hoffmann’s brilliant photography) are brought to perfection. The problem of how to film lit-up streets at night has been solved for the first time. It is unbelievably impressive to see the glaring lights of speeding cars flash through the night or the rapid passing of an elevated train of the initially blurred, then gradually focussed glimpse through a pair of opera glasses on to the variety stage, the nuances of light and shade—these things alone prove the value of film documentary.

look at this shit! filmed from within the cars! in 1922!!!

this film asks you to believe hypnotism is real and really effective, so i don't think it's that big of a leap when it asks you to believe in ghosts. i don't understand that quibble from contemporary viewers. there are several on screen suicides with like. specific methods. which is not currently regarded as good filmmaking practice. im curious to know what contemporary audiences thought but couldn't immediately turn anything up, and wading through masters’ theses on cinematic suicide is a little beyond my current mental health.

if i were a more content-minded woman this would turn into a clickbait video essay about the antisemitic origins of every supervillan. however i am unqualified and untalented at video editing and i'm sure there are forty theses on this already. this movie is a hard sell to anyone jewish or employed. it is also a stunning example of cutting-edge film technology and part of the genesis of the modern supervillan. Fritz Lang films tend to fall in the category of “movies i am happy to see once and feel no need to revisit”.

-

playing

playing what is effectively the same game three times back to back (breath of the wild, tears of the kingdom, genshin impact) has sort of burned me out on open world games with a focus on battle skill progression and stumbling across little puzzles in the overworld. i have to get itch.io up and running on this pc and find the most linear jankiest possible one-sitting indie thing. or several of them. i might try the solo ttrpg Gentleman Bandit i seem to have acquired in one of the giant charity bundles

brief breath of the wild update bc i don't want to pull screenshots off my switch: i have gotten to the boss fight for the gerudo and goron regions, have not completed them bc my focus in this game is NOT hearts, and am in the middle of the zora temple. despite the quality of life improvements and new regions in totk i think i prefer botw: progression is a bit easier, there are fewer mmo-style hub quests and repeatable quests. things like the stable photos are cute but very repetitive, so are the sign bracing puzzles, and the sky crystal quests for sky shrines feel VERY samey. also dislike how the CLEAR OUT: [REGION] quests with the monster suppression squads reset at the blood moon.

anyway! to genshin! there was an exceptionally fun little event with a surprisingly involved management sim tacked onto the game??? you make and sell potions fulfilling different requirements, and can eventually stock travelling merchants all over the continent. the actual act of making the potions was this block-filling 1010! style thing (screenshot from polygon)

the new region, a port town and tea-growing area called Chenyu Vale, is maybe the prettiest one in the game so far? it's the one that feels the most picturesque and Designed, like this is one huge mansion garden studded with follies. they also added background chatter and noise in the cities and towns, which really startled me and makes them feels much more lived in! this is a fun trick to avoid putting in a thousand NPCs and making everyone's framerate crash. the less stuff in your game, the less shit can go wrong.

also pulled for and got chiyori, a geo-aligned seamstress (and sometime spy???) swordswoman who has what i can only call domme voice

-

making

ok now we'll talk about boxes. i was rearranging my kitchen, as unemployed women are known to do, and noticed this recipe box i picked up back in mass was disgusting. the finish is starting to fail but it was genuinely grody and last summer i packed my kitchen in a blind panic inside an hour and did not have time to address it. i have never seen a recipe box at an estate sale before or since and it made me desperately sad.

it was full of a lot of stuff.

i went at it with a somewhat inadvisable combination of things: wood soap didn't budge it, so i dampened a paper towel in vinegar and wiped it down in the vain hope it would do something. the thing that worked, and would be inadvisable for anything veneered or less densely textured, was baking soda paste and the scrubby side of a sponge. it still smells Very musty even after 48h of loose baking soda inside with several changes, but that might be partly the recipe cards' fault. i would like to refinish this at some point but i don't have polyurethane on hand and the fun little project budget is empty until further notice/i get a job.

the hinge did rust a bit despite my best efforts but that has since been lightly steel wooled and oiled. a well loved object! it's possible the lady who died just fucking sucked and that's why literally her entire estate including many other things families usually keep was on sale, but i would like to think perhaps she simply had no other family? a well loved/used object even if all the recipes are for semi-horrifying fifties new england recipes.

the other box, pre-acids but post-washing: this topp trading card box with seven episode one packets of cards was intact with the original seal. i have verified it was not worth much more than the $5 i paid for it with the trading card obsessed man in my best friend's husband's friendgroup. i bought this three months ago but the man was unavailable to open it until uhhh last week. some sort of liquid got inside it at some point and it was super corroded. i was going to store embroidery floss in here but even with all my powers (barkeepers friend. brasso.) i cannot completely remove the corrosion. it's not corroded Through but it looks bad and feels rough. so it goes. it'll probably hold the tiedown straps in my car bc that plastic bucket is rapidly failing

[sweet-vanilla-sims]

Year 1680 - Part 1

TW/CW: Death, Child Death, Stillbirth

The year in Tartosa began with the family mourning the losses of the previous year and the young Collari twins growing into bigger infants with Sabina having ruby eyes and her brother having pale yellow. Though despite that, the famine and the lack of clean water had not been resolved yet and on January 16th, Alessandro collapsed and quickly passed in the early hours of the morning. He was buried near his late wives and passed surrounded by his family.

Just a few days later, Clement celebrated his sixth birthday with his family as Orelia and the girls had returned to celebrate with him.

Sadly the birthday of his much younger cousin was of little joy to Giuliano as he mourned his beloved wife but more pressing was that young Rustico was constantly crying from pains in his gut and the lack of comfort from his mother that he missed.

Sadly on January 24, Rustico finally slipped away after a fitful sleep that he never awoke from.

Borthola did her best as a big sister to cheer up Ricciardi as his closest playmate had just passed but the adults were devastated and even more so as Bastiano started showing signs of extreme lethargy not long after Rustico's funeral but they did their best to carry on.

By the time Orsetta's sixth birthday came around they were back in the islands once more which was fine with her as the waters were nice to swim in and the paths were much prettier than in Newcrest.

On the ever less common good days Bastiano had with energy, he, Borthola and their cousins would spend the day swimming and despite Giulia wanting the children to study after the past few months she was willing to be more lenient with them. Especially after the loss of Alessandro's mother on February 13th.

But a bad day came for Bastiano on March 6th and he took a nap that he couldn't wake from after being gripped with intense headaches and cramps. Sadly it was Ricciardi who found him and whose cries alerted the family. But the losses didn't stop there as just a few days later came news that Antea had also passed from similar causes.

While recently orphaned, Camilla grew up into her infancy in the care of Gabriella. But sadly her cousin, Sabina from the main branch of the Collari family passed away that April and on July 4th, the family Matriarch Bianca passed away as well leaving the family in the hands of Marcello at least until Salvador came of age.

As the birth of their child approached, Giovanni Cesare and Vivienne decided that it was time to put aside their unfulfilled wishes and make the best of things especially after Vivienne's eighteenth birthday that March. The young couple decided to genuinely attempt a real relationship.

While other adults of the house were out in town, Vivienne and her brother were happy to get along in secret.

In late July on the 24th, Vivienne went into labor and when the midwife told her there was a second baby on the way it made sense on how quickly her pregnancy had shown but sadly the joy of her daughter, Elisabetta's birth was quickly dashed as the second girl was stillborn. The young couple called their late daughter, Elena, and while she couldn't be buried in the churchyard, she was buried not far from the home.

Following the birth Vivienne had difficulties bonding with her daughter as the conflicting feelings of loss for her secondborn and the lingering thoughts of how if she hadn't gotten pregnant in the first place, she'd be free to marry into a similar life of luxury that she had grown up in reared their ugly heads. Giovanni Cesare though, was taken with his daughter. The loss of Elena hurt him dearly but after losing so many family members in his life, he was used to grief and dealing with it so he chose to refocus and give his daughter the love he had for both children especially as Vivienne only seemed to interact with her to feed her or change the occasional diaper.

Unfortunately for the family the losses did not stop as Giuliano and Ashley's only daughter slipped away on August 29th. Giulia couldn't believe just how quickly their household full of noise and children and young love had changed in less than a year.

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

India Lima Yankee - Chapter 29

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 2104

Warnings: A little bit of dirty talk, mention of death

Summary: Juliette Kazansky discovers Maverick is back in town for a special training detachment, but she's more than a little blindsided when Rooster arrives too. Having not spoken to him for almost ten years after their less than amicable break-up, Juliette can only imagine how the next few weeks are going to play out when she remains head over heels in love with him while he wants nothing to do with Juliette other than to forget her.

Or so she thinks.

Notes: Chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Wolves Born for This Born Ready

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23 Chp 24 Chp 25 Chp 26 Chp 27 Chp 28 Chp 29

Rooster

The mood amongst the pilots was more subdued than usual. Even Hangman remained quiet while waiting for Maverick to arrive. The only person missing from the group besides their captain was Juliette. Despite declaring she'd attend today, Rooster had his doubts. He knew all too well how one felt after losing a parent. He remembered barely being able to sit up, let alone get ready for school. Had it not been for Maverick and Juliette, Rooster would've laid in bed, allowing himself to wither away and die from grief himself after his mom passed. 

Bradley would much rather have stayed at his girlfriend's house than come to training, if not just to be with her and savor the remaining time they had left before he was shipped off. However, he'd made Juliette a promise to come back, and in order to do so, he needed to nail the practice missions in the slim event he was chosen for the actual one.

Still, Rooster worried about her. He pulled out his phone and shot Juliette a text, asking if she was still coming to training. A few minutes passed by without a response, so he assumed she'd fallen back asleep. Juliette needed it, considering how early she'd gotten up that morning.

The clock struck 0800 hours, and Maverick remained nowhere to be seen. Part of Rooster was relieved. He still harbored a deep resentment for the seasoned aviator, so not having him here allayed those feelings. On the other hand, it wasn't like him not to be here already. He was always early, and not for the first time since their falling out, Rooster worried about where Maverick was, about his wellbeing.

Scanning the room, Bradley noticed Hondo in the back. If Hondo was here, surely Maverick would be too? But the long face on the aviator's right-hand man sent an ominous foreboding down Rooster's spine. When Cyclone walked in a few seconds later, the sensation only grew.

"Captain Mitchell is no longer your instructor," Cyclone informed, taking a stance in front of the room. Everyone shifted in their seats, looking around in confusion and silently asking: what happened to Maverick? Cyclone, either not noticing or not caring about the unrest, continued, "And as of today, there are new mission parameters. Time to target is now four minutes. You'll be entering the valley level at reduced speed, not to exceed 420 knots." 

Everyone looked at each other for a second time, doubt now mixed in with their confusion. To Rooster's surprise, it was Bob who spoke up. "But sir, won't we be giving their planes time to intercept?"

"Well, Lieutenant, you have a fighting chance against enemy aircraft. What are the odds of surviving a head-on collision with a mountain?" Cyclone countered, bracing himself against the podium. "You'll be attacking the target from a higher altitude, level with the north wall. It'll be a little harder to keep your laser on the target, but you will avoid the high-G climb out."

"We'll be sitting ducks for enemy missiles," Fanboy whispered to Payback, just loud enough for Rooster to hear. He had to agree. As much as he hated to admit it, Bradley realized that the best, possibly the only way to navigate the course successfully and survive it was to do it Maverick's way.

Rooster's eyes drifted from Cyclone to the computer screen when it shifted without warning, tracking... was that a plane? Evidently not the only one perplexed by this, Rooster noticed everyone lean forward in their seats out of his peripheral, and Cyclone demanded, "Who the hell is that?"

"Maverick to Range Control." Pete Mitchell's familiar voice came over the radio, and Bradley almost wanted to laugh. He should've known. Who else would steal a plane to make a point after being grounded? "Entering point Alpha. Confirm green range."

A very bewildered air traffic controller responded, "Uh, Maverick, Range Control. Uh, green range is confirmed. I don't see an event scheduled for you, sir?"

"Well," Maverick began nonchalantly, "I'm going anyway."

"Nice," Phoenix breathed, smiling to herself.

"Setting time to target: two minutes and fifteen seconds."

"Two-fifteen? That's impossible," Payback remarked, so far off his seat that the only thing supporting him might as well have been his legs.

"Follow tag point. Maverick's inbound. You ready, Princess?"

Rooster's heart nearly leaped out of his chest at the sound of Juliette's calm voice replying, "Show them what you've got, Mav."

Juliette probably regretted saying those words because the speed of Captain Mitchell's plane dramatically increased. Rooster watched as the jet crossed the threshold of starting point, and the countdown began. Maverick flew through the simulated canyon at a speed that made Rooster's head spin. Had it been anyone but Mav, he would've been terrified for Juliette's safety, but she acted wholly unfazed, calmly marking off when they reached the two-minute mark, then the one-minute mark. Finally, as they neared the mountain, Maverick said, "Popping in three, two, one!"

"Thirty seconds, Mav!" Juliette informed, her voice strained against the intense pressure as the jet climbed up at an immense speed before Maverick inverted and dove down, righting themselves back up. Rooster was amazed at the both of them, his captain for pulling this off and his girlfriend for staying conscious and coherent during the entire thing.

"Bombs away!" Maverick announced, snapping his jet upward.

"Ah, shit, here we go again," Juliette muttered, and Rooster could only imagine what was going through her head. The last time she'd been in this position had been with Coyote, and she'd nearly died. She might've been with Maverick, but Rooster had no doubt it was still at the forefront of her mind. 

"Ten seconds," Juliette said weakly, evidently barely staying conscious. "Five seconds. You've... got this... Mav!" 

Maverick released the second wave of missiles. Rooster swore time slowed down as he watched the projectiles, on a dead straight course for the target, race the rapidly counting down timer.

Three...

Two...

One...

The missiles smoked the target, and the timer stopped at 00.16 seconds. Maverick had done it with milliseconds to spare. Everyone stood up, an involuntary reaction at what they'd just witnessed. It was reserved Omaha who exclaimed in confirmation, "Bullseye! Holy shit!" 

The squadron exchanged looks of disbelief and happiness, and Rooster noticed Warlock discreetly shake his fist in secret victory, a small smile tugging on his lips. He might've been Cyclone's right-hand man, but he undoubtedly supported Maverick just now. He might've even had a little something to do with this...

Rooster heard Juliette laugh breathlessly over the radio and say gleefully, "Great balls of fire!"

Hey, Dad. Rooster thought, smiling to himself. Juliette had never said those words before unless she was singing, and Maverick had told only Rooster it was his dad's saying whenever they did something cool or ballsy back in the day, which had probably been often. Juliette should've had no reason to say that, so Rooster could only believe his father had come through her to let Mav know he was still there, that he still had his back, even in death.

"Damn," Hangman said, impressed. His statement, although simple, spoke for everyone in the room. While the others chatted excitedly about what Maverick had just pulled off, Rooster watched Cyclone and Warlock exit the room. He waited a couple of seconds before slipping into the hallway himself, taking an alternate route to the hangar to avoid being caught. He needed to see Juliette, to ask how in the hell she and Maverick pulled that off, and to determine if he was going to have to plan his time home around visiting her in prison.

Rooster rounded the corner of the hangar and nearly stepped into the peripheral of Cyclone and Warlock, the former looking ready to blow a gasket as he ordered irately, "Get your asses out of that flight gear and up to my office. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir," Maverick and Juliette's voices replied simultaneously. Rooster couldn't see them, so he assumed they were behind the stack of boxes. Warlock and Cyclone strode off. Bradley waited for them to disappear from view before he padded quietly over to the women's locker room and slipped inside, calling out quietly, "Jules?!"

Juliette's head popped out from behind a row of lockers, her brow furrowed. "Rooster? What are you doing here?"

He rushed over to his girlfriend, skidding to a stop in front of her. All words died in his throat at the sight of Juliette's outfit. She crossed her arms tightly across her chest and asked, "Are you here to yell at me?"

"I mean, I was going to ask what the hell you were thinking, but it's hard to be mad at you when you're in your underwear." Rooster couldn't stop his eyes from trailing down her body, but he immediately brought them back up. He might've seen her in less than this before, but they'd just started dating, and Rooster wasn't sure how comfortable Juliette would be with him ogling her perfect body.

"Noted for future reference," she replied, her voice tinged with amusement. "But for the record, I called in one of my dad's favors. I'll call in a couple more to get myself out of trouble."

Rooster stared at his girlfriend with a mixture of awe and slight terror. What kind of power did she hold that she wasn't afraid of the repercussions of what she'd just done? "Well, then. Mark me down as scared and horny."

Juliette let out a small burst of genuine laughter, and it simultaneously warmed Rooster's soul and calmed his nerves to hear it. She acted wholly unfazed by what she'd done, and surely, if she was this confident in her ability to get away with it, then who was he to doubt her?

Allowing himself to breathe, Rooster sat on the bench, letting Juliette finish getting dressed. If Cyclone hadn't been expecting her, Bradley would've pulled her into his arms and kissed her senseless, letting his hands travel down her sides and to the backs of her bare thighs and-

"It's not hard to know what you're thinking of," Juliette teased, lightly knocking her finger underneath his chin, causing him to realize his eyes had been staring directly at her butt. Heat rose in his cheeks as he averted his gaze, looking at everything but her. His reaction must've prompted her to say, "I don't care if you look. It's not like you haven't seen me in less."

"I know, but I wasn't sure how you felt about- I mean, it's been-"

"Let me put it this way-" Juliette, now wearing pants, stood between his legs and cupped his cheeks, lifting his face upward so she could meet his eyes- "if I didn't have to go get my ass chewed out by Cyclone right now, I would let you do what was on your mind."

Juliette bent down and kissed him, adding, "Unfortunately, I do have to get my ass chewed out, so I'll need to ask for a rain check."

"I don't know how you're going to get out of this, but just make sure that when I come home from deployments, I get to see you at home and not in prison," Rooster requested, bracing his head against her stomach. "I'd rather not have to schedule conjugal visits."

Juliette snorted. "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing, believe it or not."

"You better get going," Rooster said, standing up and pecking her on the lips. "Don't want to give Cyclone any more reasons to be mad at you."

"I'll see you later?"

"I'll meet you in the break room." Exchanging their love and bidding each other goodbye, Rooster leaned against the locker as he watched Juliette strut away, too confidently for someone who had just helped steal an F-18. It'd been so long that he'd forgotten how loyal Juliette could be. If she loved you, if she cared for you, there was nothing Jules wouldn't do for you, and she always found ways to get what she needed to accomplish what she wanted. What Juliette had just done for Maverick proved as such.

Rooster also reminded himself that as much as his girlfriend was Iceman's daughter, she'd been raised alongside Maverick just like he had, and she'd obviously learned more than a thing or two from him, including how to get away with things that no one else could. How she did it, Bradley would never know, but he wouldn't complain. Still, he started to wonder who would put him in his early grave first: Juliette or Maverick?

***

Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @souslesyeuxde @gleasonmalfoy @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @picklejuicesposts

[urmykrushhh]

❝ aeri yamamoto ❞

(총아름) — the 24-year-old main vocalist of KRUSH. known for her STRONG AND ENERGETIC vocals, she's a favorite among KRUSH's asian fanbase due to her endearing, big sister personality and vocal talent.

❝ basics ❞

— stage name ♡ aeri

— birth name ♡ yamamoto aeri

— korean name ♡ chong ah-reum

— nicknames ♡ riri, chongri, reummie, manggaeri, nee-chan :: unnie

— birthday ♡ november 11th, 1999

— birthplace ♡ fukuoka, japan

— hometown ♡ seoul, south korea

— ethnicity ♡ japanese

— nationality ♡ japanese

— sexuality ♡ straight

❝ claims ❞

— face ♡ miyawaki sakura (fmr. hkt48 :: fmr. iz*one :: le sserafim)

— voice ♡ liz (ive)

— dance ♡ lia (itzy)

❝ physical ❞

— height ♡ 165 cm (5'5")

— weight ♡ 51 kg (113 lbs)

— blood type ♡ ab

— piercings and tattoos ♡ none

❝ career ❞

— profession ♡ idol, model, radio show host

— years trained ♡ 4 years

— years active ♡ 2017—present

— position ♡ main vocalist

— representative emoji ♡ 🌺

❝ history ❞

born on november 11th, 1999 in fukuoka, japan, aeri was born as the eldest of three children. her father was a college professor, and on the other hand, her mother was a music teacher. and despite being japanese, she was born and mostly raised in gunsan, south korea. as a child, aeri was dedicated to taking care of her siblings and helping her parents with domestic work, and was more concerned with growing up and becoming a mother rather than singing. however, after hearing her mother sing a S.E.S song while cooking, that's when aeri's interests in the idol industry rose.

when aeri was merely six years old, she and her family relocated to their mother's hometown of gunsan. her mother wasted no time placing her eldest daughter in vocal lessons, and as aeri grew, she spent a lot of her time in karaoke booths with her siblings. even then, however, she still didn't think much about becoming an idol, preferring to teach others instead. that was until BIGHIT ENTERTAINMENT noticed her, however.

her mother encouraged her attend the audition, and so she did. accompanied by her mother and a friend from school, aeri took a two hour train ride up to seoul. singing "1.2.3.4" by lee hi, she ended up placing first, becoming the sole trainee there to make it into bighit. afterwards, aeri spent her trainee years as a model or actress in commercials, with the company looking to familiarize her with the feeling of being on camera. she also provided background vocals for bighit's newest rookie boy group, BTS, alongside another korean-american trainee, kyung-ja (although her parts were often restricted to rapping).

a mere year after joining the label, however, aeri was nearly transferred. the explosive scandal surrounding GLAM had dealt quite the blow to bighit, and they were now shipping their female trainees off to other labels. however, in the hopes that another girl group could debut without scandal, bighit kept three female trainees. aeri included.

the trio's 2015 debut was postponed once, and then again. bighit used that opportunity, however, to send aeri and kyung-ja onto PRODUCE 101, hoping to catch as much attention as possible. on the show, aeri saw a considerable amount of success, becoming the main vocalist for "Into the New World," the center for "Yum Yum," and managing to rank fourth—just two places underneath kyung-ja. despite her clear vocal talent and work ethic, however, mentors would often comment on aeri's lack of confidence and bad habit to miss beats. and as the public began to think that their picks deserved a higher ranking more than aeri, her place began to drop. and just before the finale, she was eliminated, becoming the first out of two bighit trainees to fail.

due to being on PRODUCE, however, aeri certainly did attract attention. as rumors of a bighit girl group—the first in five years—began to fly in early 2017, many PRODUCE viewers began to wonder if aeri and kyung-ja were among the lucky trainees. turns out, the viewers were correct.

aeri would end up debuting as KRUSH's main vocalist. although she is the LEAST POPULAR member in south korea, her bubbly personality has made her a favorite among asian fans. in japan especially, she is the group's MOST POPULAR member.

[3rider]

The gaggle of whores that Kitty rolls with.... You don't have to read it, tho...

Conquest :: Treasure Castillo

Age: 36 Gender: F Date of Birth: September 22 Height: 5'0 Role: MK Ultra Expert

Known kleptomaniac, gambler, and liar. Would steal some shit from you and help you find it, type of girlie. Spends most of her time pampering herself, decorating, and turning people brains into mush. She and Kitty are like water and oil, but they get along better than you think. Treasure lives through Kitty, constantly begging her to get hitched (despite the fact she had killed her own husband) or have more kids (even though she aborted hers), she means well.

War :: Dove Fujiwara

Age: 40 Gender: F Date of Birth: March 26 Height: 5'10 Role: Violence Manager/Scapegoat

Dove came to America at 19 years young, she had no friends and knew little English. She came overseas to study political science but ended up ditching it for criminology (and photography as a minor.) This was the late 60s/early 70s, so until she met a group of girls who befriended her, she spent most of her time alone studying murders. Once she realized her friends were slowly going missing, being brutalized in domestic violence, or being sold into human trafficking, she took the matters in her own hands and just went ape shit on any guy she suspected is a scumbag. She and Kitty have a rocky relationship, Dove is fully committed to helping the community at any cost, but Kitty actually has to put her kid first. Dove really has no one to lose.

Death :: Jezebel Hemlock

Age: 27 Gender: F Date of Birth: October 31 Height: 5'9 (in a half) Role: Medic/Poison Expert

Jezebel only been in the states for a year and some change. She works as a charge nurse at a local clinic, and she even has her own house! When she's not working 24 hours straight, she's reading comics, listening to music, or tending to her plants. She and Kitty have the least...problematic friendship, but Kitty doesn't like that Jezebel is willing to help the other three. She doesn't want to see Jezebel hurt or in trouble with the law.

[nathank77]

5/16/24

6:16 p.m Edited/ Added to 6:26 p.m

I fell asleep fast on the half MG of xanax and a hydroxyzine 25MG around 7 a.m or 7:15 a.m. I woke up at like 2:30. I didn't sleep after that despite trying but I didn't want to take Benadryl and miss therapy. So I gave up around 3:30 p.m

So i had therapy at 4:45 p.m. I haven't heard back about the Kristen complaint. Yesterday and some of today I've had horrible flashbacks to Nala and to just psychosis.

Last night I basically watched family guy all night. Today idk what to do. I was going to do laundry but my mother always hogs the machines... and I haven't been able to use a towel to dry off for like 3 days so far...

I got to shower and shave my head but I may skip it. I showered yesterday and shaved my face..

I might try to see if I can get the hdcp bypasser to work before I return it back to Walmart and then buy another one from Ebay or just try to buy a regular hdmi splitter and see if that allows the, "handshake" but idk...

Also I might play fc2 or fc4 but idk. My clippers are Contaminated bc of contact with puss.... for at least another 7 days.. maybe I'll shave with a razor instead. I don't want to wash my clippers or use hand sanitizer as they rust them...

I may just watch family guy all day. I'm fucking lonely and I'm thinking about going back to Stacey. She's pretty. She's crazy and she will take me as I am. We can have kids cause she has money. She saves and is great with money. She saved up for a 60k car and paid out of pocket.

I mean I won't be happy but at least I'll have someone to talk to everyday and video chat or talk on the phone with once a day and I'll have someone to spend my weekends with...

Beyond that I don't expect to find anyone and actually be happy. Maybe I was right 10 years ago when I thought, about breaking up with her but my other thought was- what if I can't find someone else to love me?

Idk. I'm getting desperate. Not desperate enough to truly settle. I won't be settling on appearance.... I'll be settling on personality.. and the fact that she made more than a few transphobic remarks..

But I mean I have a feeling I'll be settling no matter what. Whether it's a life of loneliness or a life with Stacey or some other girl i haven't met yet.

Stacey was thoughtful and wrote sweet things to me. It fulfilled one of my love languages and she takes my mom as she is and loves her. She loves my dad. She was a part of the family. Most people can't stand my mother and can't stand my sister. She didn't like my sister but I'm sure they could put that in the past. It's a real consideration.

Me and Stacey could do artifical insemination. I could be on a birth certificate as the father. She would take my last name. We could get a house. She'd be fine with me being a stay at home dad. I mean it could work.

Also I have my disability appt tomorrow at 1:30 p.m. I'm going to take melatonin 2MG, hydroxyzine 25MG, and 1MG of xanax at around 4 a.m.... I hope I fall asleep fast and wake up around 12 or 12:30. If I can make it I might go to New Hampshire after bc it'll be done at 2:30 p.m and I could get out the door by 3 p.m or 3:30 the latest...

I'm anxious I wont wake up on time or fall asleep fast enough... if I don't I'll reschedule and I'll go grocery shopping and do new Hampshire Saturday unless I wake up at like 2:30 and then I may go to new Hampshire anyways cause I never wake up that early with 7 hours of sleep.

I'm going to try not to worry about it as I can always reschedule and I'll make it work eventually but I truly hope I can do it tomorrow and see how much back pay I'm entitled to and hopefully get it for June 1st.

[terrapwaters]

Check out my newsletter at the above link, or under the read more!

Newsletter #5

January 24, 2024

Welcome to my newsletter! You signed up to be on my mailing list, so first I want to thank you for taking an interest in my work! Thank you!

What have I been up to lately?

Aether Beyond the Binary

24 hours left to back our Kickstarter! Don’t miss your chance to grab this anthology before it’s too late!

As I mentioned in my last newsletter, my short story Ancient Hearts Unearthed, will be included in Aether Beyond the Binary, an anthology from Duck Prints Press. Above is the awesome cover art by non-binary artist Mar Spragge. It’s all about characters outside the binary (nonbinary, agender, genderqueer, etc.) in an aetherpunk setting! Our Kickstarter runs through tomorrow, January 25th!

Here’s an excerpt from my story about a pair of archeologists exploring a newly uncovered cave:

Sasha almost ran into Victoria, stopping short. Over her shoulder, they saw the cavern wall. The appearance of the rock was unusual enough to draw Sasha’s attention to the fact that they’d come to a dead end. “Those markings are too regular to be natural.” They stepped around Victoria and reached out to run their fingers over the rock, feeling the way shapes had been carved into it. “They’re pictographs. Or runes, perhaps?” They turned to Victoria. “What does the ancient rune expert have to say about them?” “I’m…” She took a long, silent moment to look at the wall, moving her light around and tracing the shapes with her fingers. “I can’t see them well enough. We need the supplies to make rubbings. And more light.” “Where can we get anything other than aetherwork light sources?” “Candles, I suppose.” Victoria looked down at her hand, pressing the red light on and off. “Or some sort of electricity lamp.” She snickered. “Whale oil?” Then Victoria turned and ran a hand over the runes again. “What bothers me is that these are early Age of Aether markings. You see the way they’re using archaic forms of our letters?” Sasha leaned closer. “I’ll be damned. This doesn’t match the bronze era artifacts in the rest of the cave, either.” They made a tiny humming noise. “Who else would have this much knowledge of ancient runes?” As Victoria leaned as close as she could to the wall, she asked distractedly, “What do you mean?” “Obviously, it’s a fake,” they said, mulling over the problem in their head. “Sanderson has wanted my place on the admissions committee since he joined the department.” “What if it’s not a fake?” Victoria made a tiny, excited noise. “What if this is early Aether Age work? What if this is a secret that’s been buried for almost a thousand years?” Sasha’s heart swooped at the thought. “We have to find out what that inscription says.”

If you want to find out what happens next, please back our kickstarter campaign!

Nyctophobia Series (and more) under the read more!

For those of you who read my long Stranger Things Stoncy series, Mr. Sandman, Nyctophobia is the original sci-fi series based on elements of that story. Phase Shift is the first book in the series. I’m now posting it to my Patreon and Ream sites.  

Details

Rating: Teen and up

Tags: science fiction, alternate dimensions, teen characters, friendship, bisexual main character (minor references), lesbian character, nonbinary character, aliens

Summary: Despite being a self-professed science geek, high school freshman Camilla Mitchell has had a secret imaginary friend for years. It comes as quite a shock when said friend, Emma, accidentally drags her into a dimension full of hostile telepathic creatures. Cam’s friends, her brother, Oliver, and her mother, Kathryn, work furiously to solve her disappearance and bring her home. Other members of their small Minnesota town disappear, one after the other, including Lizzy Becker’s best friend, who is ripped from her arms. Lizzy badgers loner Oliver into working with her to rescue their missing loved ones. They discover a bridge between the two worlds—a bridge that allows the hostile creatures from Cam’s newly-discovered dimension into ours. If there’s a bridge, there’s a way to rescue the people taken. Right?

Content warnings: disordered eating, emetophobia, child abuse mention, homophobic bullying, teen characters in danger, gun violence, physical violence, abduction

The prologue and first chapter are now available for free on both Patreon and Ream! Chapters 2 through 4 are available to the $4/mo subscribers on either platform. New chapters drop weekly, on Wednesdays!

If you can’t subscribe now, backing during any month at the $4 level will get you access to all the members-only chapters posted up to that date while you’re subscribed. I’ll let you guys know when it’s getting close to fully posted, if you want to pay just for that month.

I finished adding all the Phase Shift details to the new series bible, which will help me as I finish the rewrite of the second book in the series, Inertia. This sequel is where the OT3 relationship takes off and I start incorporating elements of Mr. Sandman into the original series. Currently, Inertia is 80k words and about 4 chapters short of the end. I could use some help from an alpha reader to iron out the rest of the plot. If you’re interested, please let me know by emailing terrapwaters@gmail.com. I’m more than willing to trade alpha reads/critiques for a similarly sized project (or projects.)

Magnolia Way Series

This series is my take on a “Friends”-like sit-com in novella form. It’s centered on a four-person polycule living together in Chicago, 1999. They move into an apartment building full of colorful characters, and meet the cute girl who lives across the hall.

Moving Day (Book 1)

I finished a rewrite of the first version (that version is still available on Amazon). The rewrite needs to be beta read and edited, and I’ll likely start publishing to Patreon and Ream once Phase Shift is completely posted. It’s 18k, rated Teen on the AO3 scale. If you’d like to beta read the book, please let me know by emailing terrapwaters@gmail.com. I’m more than willing to trade beta reads/critiques for a similarly sized project (or projects.)

Spilled Coffee (Book 2)

This book is available now on Amazon. I’ll probably make some significant rewrites before this one goes to Patreon/Ream as well.

Overnight (Book 3)

This one has been beta read and is waiting for my edits!

Besides the above-mentioned editing, the next step for this series is to start writing book 4, which takes place during a Halloween party!

The Deity Tetrarchy

A.K.A Four Gods. This is a fantasy world I’ve been really inspired to write in recently. There are four gods and their domains are Time, Force, Life, and Death. The God of Time, Tempus, rules the Underrealm (where souls are eternal), while the God of Death, Tenemor, rules the Overrealm (where all living things must die). The Goddess of Life, Anivita, spends summer in the Overrealm and winter in the Underrealm. It’s vice versa for the Goddess of Force, Potentia, also known as the Winter Queen. The children of Life and Death are immortals known as clerics, responsible for shepherding the mortal souls in their care through their lives in the Overrealm. The children of Time and Power are immortals known as timekeepers, who care for souls in the Underrealm, where they rest and heal from the rigors of the Overrealm.

I have a few stories I’ve written or that I’m working on in this context.

The Wayward Timekeeper - An immortal cleric must go on a quest through the Underrealm to save his mother, the Goddess of Life. You can read this rated-Teen 9k word fantasy adventure story by backing the Duck Prints Press Patreon at the $10 level. Backing gets you access to a ton of awesome stories by fantastic authors. You can also buy this story as part of the author bundle add-on for the Aether Beyond the Binary Kickstarter!

Dancing for the King (working title) - Andelion has practiced for years to be allowed to dance for the god king of the Overrealm on the summer solstice. It’s the one day of the year his marriage vows lapse and the king can take a lover. This is going to be my contribution to this April’s DPP Patreon. It’ll be explicit, around 7k, m/m, with some delicious size difference content.

Laurel (working title) - When the impossible happens and an immortal cleric is murdered, Laurel must find out how. If someone has figured out how to kill the children of the gods, she and her siblings are all in danger. This is the novel I worked on drafting during Nanowrimo 2023. I’m expecting it to sit at a T rating, mostly a mystery/thriller in this fantasy setting. The main relationship will probably be f/f and maybe an f/f/f V-shaped triad. I’ve got some good content (about 30k), but I decided I needed to start the story further back in the timeline than I initially planned. I’ve also rethought a few of the characters and their roles, but I think a rough draft should be doable. I’ve done a lot more worldbuilding and identified a few characters who were missing from the story structure, so it’s coming along!

Here’s a snippet of Laurel:

Laurel ignored the screeching shouts of the band of children running through the monastery halls, until the door to her workroom opened and closed. A child wearing a hat with cat-shaped ears pressed his back to the door, panting with his eyes closed. Sweat shined on his freckled face, but when he opened his dark eyes and they twinkled, Laurel couldn’t help but smile. She raised one eyebrow at her little brother. “Who did you piss off this time, Teddy?” “Editha,” he said with a cringe. As he left the door and joined her at the worktable, he held up a curled lock of inky black hair. Laurel gasped and grabbed it out of his hand. “What did you do?” He grinned. “She said she wanted me to cut it. I decided she’d look best with short hair.” “Katysha is going to kill you.” Teddy tilted his head for a second, then asked, “Does it hurt? Dying?” “We can’t die.” Laurel set the lock of hair aside. “Yeah, but do you think it does?” As a cleric, Laurel had attended the deaths of several Houndsborough residents. She could lie to Teddy, but he’d be ill prepared for when it was his turn to start attending the dead and dying. Nodding, she said, “Yeah. It does.”

Marina (working title) - Marina only meant to go to the autumn equinox festivities in the capital city with her brother. She didn’t expect to be recognized as the reincarnated soul of the god-king’s former lover. I’ve got about 10k of explicit material, and I’m envisioning this as a series of short stories/novelettes as Marina gets pulled into the politics and intrigue of the palace and its harem. 

Others—I’ve got a few ideas around how the Goddess of Life, Anivita, would use her powers to experiment, and I’ve written a few snippets, but they’re still really rough.

Get Your Words Out

This year, I decided to focus on editing and planning. I’ve committed to work on writing for 20 minutes a day, for 350 days of the year. So far, I’ve done writing tasks on 22 of 23 days this month! I took the day off when I had a major dental procedure, but I’m still on track!

What am I reading?

I’ve been keeping track of my reading over on storygraph. Feel free to follow me there, and I’d love to follow you back!

Jay’s Gay Agenda by Jason June—I read this for book club. It was a little uneven with the characterization, but I can see why people found it cute.

Sordidez by E.G. Conte—this was an interesting novella about future decolonization of the Caribbean and the Yucatan. I feel like a lot of it went over my head, but I found it an interesting mix of viewpoints and unlike everything else I normally read. I’m glad I picked it up off the library’s choice reads shelf!

Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir—I’m not quite halfway done with this one, and still very confused, but I’m enjoying the ride!

Ace of Spades by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé—This one is my current audiobook. It’s about lies and intrigue in a fancy private school, and I’m eagerly listening on to find out what happens!

Thanks for reading this far!

As you can see, I have a bunch of projects in the works. I’d love some feedback on which of these you’re most interested in. You can reply to this email, or find me on one of my socials.

Bluesky | Instagram | Cohost | Pillowfort | Tumblr

And that’s it for now! Thanks so much for your support!

[chxnceyblxckout]

You can't expect employees to want to help when you treat them as though your plans are more important and all they should do when not at work is prepare for the off chance they need to cover shifts. I spent 2 weeks covering the shifts that are known to royally fuck up my meds, sleep schedule, and mental health with a smile on my god damn face, but you can't cover one shift? I'm tired of feeling so unappreciated in my work. I fucking love my job. I fucking love the people I work with. But I'm so tired being the only person who answers my teams calls. I'm tired of being the only one to cover shifts. I'm tired of any time I request off being denied. Despite me planning the days off so they don't fuck other people over. Being flexible with moving the days I take off if what I had planned won't work. And then having you lie to YOUR boss when I began calling out a bunch for not having a break in fucking months after our busy season and it taking a toll on me. You told them I saved all my vacation time just to pull this stunt. And the only reason I found out is because I talked to your boss because I was made to feel like I couldn't handle this, that I wasn't doing a good enough job because you "had to do so much more as AGM than I am". She told me everything, how that's absolutely not true. She told me how good of a job I've been doing, redefined my job requirements and made me realize I'm actually handling a lot more of the GM tasks than I should have been. She offered me Dual AGM for the property opening soon under same ownership because she believes I can do it. I td her about my PTO and how I was begging for the time off, how flexable I was trying to be. How every time I'd ask I'd get pushed off with a "well talk about it later" "maybe after xyz" to a point where I gave up asking. How you told me that I'm not doing enough and needed to be baby sat so I "stay on task". Just for you to come back and say oh, that's not what I meant, it was for me so I knew what I'd come back to! I ignored the lies, I ignored the back tracking. I ignored everything you said that you pretended you didn't. After all this, im back to being the only one covering shifts. I gave up 2 Mondays, the only time I have off with my boyfriend, to cover shifts. I will not do it again because you missed days and came in late and fell behind when I would not get the same treatment. That's 100% not fair in the slightest. I shouldn't feel like I have to lie about having plans on my day off because you don't want to cover a shift. I don't want to either and I covered the last 6. I covered when staff needed to leave early because we need to watch hours. And I'll probably be the one covering desk shifts each week to decrease payroll. What's stupid is my day off I'm still having to be the one to help find coverage. They're still coming to me on my day off despite you being there. I don't mind helping, I don't mind taking care of my team, but It's not just my responsibility. Especially when I'm not going to be needed full time soon and I'm going to have a 2nd property to take care of. I get being on salary means being on call 24/7, but im not the only one salaried, yet they start exclusively coming to me because they know you won't answer your phone. You won't reply to texts. That won't fly when I have a whole other team who will be needing me as well.

Being a homebody shouldn't be a punishment. It shouldn't be a reason I have to come in just because I don't have active plans with others while you do. I deserve days off as much as any member of our team.

[inslo]

Updates both good and bad….

Adult summer camp was a B.L.A.S.T!!!  I haven’t had so much fun, felt so good, and made so many new friends in years!  I went in with no expectations, and any expectations I may have had were far exceeded.  Despite alcohol being available nearly 24/7, (camp was only 4 days) no one got so drunk they were puking on the side of the road or passing out.  COED cabins were not nearly as much of a problem as I thought, in fact my cabin had 12 beds (9 in front and 3 in back separated by a wall and a door and separate exterior entrances) and 3 guys and 9 girls, so that was a fairly easy situation.  However I spoke to another guy who was in more-of-a-coed situation, and the rules were “(1) knock before entering (2) if someone needs to change, the opposite gender steps out.”    Camp consisted of about 75-80% female and 20-25% male, age ranges were mid 20’s to late 60’s with the median age about 41. 

There were so many fun activities. (Sample of Campers Guide above, with activities I attended marked.)  My favorite was the scavenger hunt.  I spent the majority of my time at camp with people who I thought were in their early 30’s but turned out were in their late 20’s, and I was made to feel I fit right in.  (I ended up feeling 15-20 years younger).  The scavenger hunt was done with a group, but  wasn’t about going to find a bug or a leaf, but go to a specific building and have one person in the group film the others walking like a penguin to another building.  Then that video was to be uploaded to a google drive for judging.  Our team made 2nd place overall.  As for other activities, there was trivia, bingo, a number of one-hour classes like (cooking with fire and Herbal Healing 101.)  There was archery, ax-throwing, human battleship, beach volleyball, swimming, and ‘meditation and mamosas’.  There as plenty of good food, there was a camp fire complete with a fully-stocked smores station.  There was the “1989 Camp Homecoming Dance” which was awesome and I let loose on the dance floor which I practically never do.  ….needless to say, I pre-registered for camp next year, despite not knowing if I will even be able to get the days off or not.  I can’t wait to go again.

On another note, I had a conversation with a good friend about my concerns that I shy away from difficult conversations.  This is really the first conversation I have had with anyone about it.  Needless to say, I feel worse now than I did before.  This friend has been dating someone now for about a 1.5 years and there have been challenges.  In fact they have attended at least one session of counseling together, though the counseling revealed problems on both sides, each realizes it is something they need to work on.  I voiced my concerns about the current person I am dating to my friend, and yeah, we need to have a conversation.  I wish I would have thought about this back 10-15 years ago…or even just a year ago.  I miss ‘Madeline’ and there is no going back with her.   I will have my current date stay over night in the next week or two and see if “she snores like a diesel truck going through all the gears”.  (Yes I used that phrase…and got a laugh or three)  At that time I plan to sit down and have a talk with her. 

[gucciwins]

Are you Angel?

Harry gets hurt while on the job and Y/N gets a phone call she was not prepared for.

Word count: 7413

A/N: hello friends, it's been a while :) this is a continuation to my story Trouble Follows. You don't have to read but it will give you an insight of how Y/N and Harry met. I am thrilled to share more of firefighter harry with you. I adore him and I hope you do as well.

please do let me know what you thought of the story and please reblog! <333

Warnings: angst, breakups, hospitals

A firefighter will always run into a burning building with not a hint of hesitation. All their focus is on saving the people stuck inside.

Running towards trouble is second nature to them.

She knew that.

She also knew what it meant to date a firefighter.

The unreliable hours, the non-frequent communication, the many failed dinner dates. The twenty-four hours shifts when he would then arrive home to just sleep.

Harry had begun to give her a constant comfort that he would eventually come home and climb into bed behind her. He would then gently nuzzle his face in her neck, taking in her sweet honey scent. In contrast, she took in the woody ashy smell that seems to be permanently stained on him.

So trust her when she said she knew what she was in for when Harry asked her to be his girlfriend.

Four months in, she knew she would be here for a long time, maybe forever, if life would allow it.

She was sure; she knew what to expect.

But she didn't, not until she got the call.

The call that would shatter her heart.

The call that would lead her to be sitting in this uncomfortable, ugly brown hospital chair, holding tightly onto his ashy hand. As she prayed on and on to a God, she no longer held close but wished for Harry they were real and would bring Harry back to her.

Y/N prayed for Harry to finally open his eyes and give her a reassuring smile that he would be okay.

That they would be okay.

Until then, she'll wait.

Harry being Lieutenant allowed him to have a consistent schedule. That did not mean there weren't days where he had to pull a double shift or stay back to finish paperwork; he let it pile up.

The one day that was Y/N's was Sunday.

She got him an entire day to lay in bed together and eat all the baked goods she baked for him to try. It was becoming their day. Everyone at the station knew Harry could not be disturbed on Sundays unless it was the end of the world, and even then, they'd have to pry him away from Y/N.

He feels safe in her arms. Harry had never felt that before. Sure, he was surrounded by his firehouse family, but he had never felt so loved in two arms as if she could take all his problems and stresses away. Still, she did exactly that when she would flash him her gorgeous smile and hold her arms open for him to fall into at the end of every day.

Harry knows he's never felt this way, and he won't ever take it for granted.

This Sunday will be different, and she feels it as soon as she wakes up because, in her queen-sized bed, she's alone. No arms wrapped around her waist; no head tucked into her necks as he places soft open kisses to wake her from her sleep gently.

Already, she knows this is going to be a bad day. She feels it in her bones. Having been around trouble for so long, she knows the difference between good and bad. The feelings she has made her want to find Harry and pull him back into bed where she can keep him safe.

Y/N gets out of bed, throwing the warm sheets off her body going to the bathroom to do her morning skin routine, wanting to feel refreshed for when Harry breaks the news; he's going to leave her alone on their day. She knows him well enough; he's cooking her breakfast to make up for leaving her so early in the morning.

She walks out of her bathroom, going straight to her closet and taking out the first sweater she saw. It's a baby blue color and stitched on the left side on top of her heart is: "love me please?" It's Harry's favorite sweater of hers because it's an oversized sweater that fits him well. The only reason she has it back is that he wanted her to wash it and wear it until it got her smell again. Y/N kissed him silly when he told her that, plus she loves that it smells like him now.

Y/N takes one look at her unmade bed and walks away, knowing she's going to crawl back in after Harry leaves her. She walks out and, from the hallway, can hear Harry humming away. If she's honest, she doesn't recognize the song. As she has come to learn, Harry has an interesting taste in music; he has basically heard every song ever to exist. It's a reason they are so good at Four Clovers Thursday Trivia night. She dominates pop culture and films, and Harry takes on music. She's also better at history than him. Their friends love trivia night because their winning always gets them free drinks. It's something she looks forward to each week.

"Morning, H," Y/N says as she approaches him from behind and wraps her arms around his waist. Harry smiles, instantly feeling warm with her arms around him.

"Morning, firebug. Sleep well?"

She mumbles a no, causing Harry to laugh, and she feels it vibrate through her.

"Awe, upset I wasn't wrapped around you." He teases. "I'm making up to you by making breakfast."

She pulls away, spotting blackberries on the counter. "Sure, Jan."

Harry can hear the change in her tone and knows she's still goofing off with him but knows she's upset.

"Angel, come sit. Coffee is ready."

She shakes her head but makes her way over to the chair he pulled out for her. "No coffee. I'll be going back to bed soon." Y/N waits to see if he'll correct her, but he doesn't.

"I'm sorry." He begins.

"No apologies."

"Please let me. I'm leaving you on our day." He pouts.

"As much as I don't want you to go, I'm sure they need you more than I do."

Harry frowns, "I hope you'll never stop needing me." He whispers against her lips before closing the gap. Y/N hums against his soft lips allowing herself to get lost in the moment; she loves his kisses, soft and gentle just as he is despite what his sharp eyes might have one believe.

Harry pulls away after pressing one final kiss on her pouted lips. "I'm sorry I have to go to work, but I know for certain that I can meet you for a late lunch."

"Lunch?" She repeats, arms wrapped around his waist, hoping he was serious with his offer.

He hums. "Yes, 2:30, that bistro with that avocado dressing you like for your sandwich."

"It's a date." She grins, laying her head on his chest letting him hold her tight. He unwraps his arms, letting her go.

"I've got to get going, firebug, but I'll see you later."

"Stay safe, Styles." She tells him as she does every time he leaves.

"Try my best, angel."

With that, he slips his beat-up white Vans with lilac laces and walks out the door; it shuts it behind him. Just as Y/N steps towards it to lock up, it opens back up, startling her. Harry steps back in, and before she can question him, he places both faces on the side of her face and kisses her breathless. Y/N is quick to react, allowing their lips to move in perfect harmony, not as smooth but perfect, nonetheless.

"I--" Harry begins before he clears his throat. "I'll miss you, angel."

Y/N feels the heat rush to her cheeks because, for a moment, she thought he'd say another three words. "And I'll miss you, H. Now get out of here; I don't need you showing up late to our lunch date."

Harry smiles, dimples on full display, hugging her before walking out a skip in his step. She peaks her head out, making sure he gets in the car safely before he drives off. He sits there for a moment, and she knows he is letting his Bluetooth connect as he waits for his drive-to-work playlist titled "it's time" to start playing. He takes a look at his mirrors before backing out and driving. That's when Y/N closes and locks the door.

Time to go back to bed for a few more hours; what else is there to do on a Sunday when she's left alone.

Harry genuinely did not want to go to work today, but it's not like he could say no to his Chief. His Chief was never one to call in favor unless it was an emergency. He didn't ask, knowing he'd get the full story Monday, but for now, he gets on his pants, t-shirt, and boots and hopes there are no fires today.

The only thing is that Harry isn't used to working with the B-shift, sure he knows everyone's name and a little of their lives, but they aren't his usual team. He shakes that off because he knows he would do anything to help a team member and knows they would do the same in return.

Harry is lost in thought, wondering what Y/N was going to do today. He knows she planned to take him to a butterfly pavilion today even told him the outfit she had planned out for it. A pair of jeans that had flowers embroidered all over something she added, saying she thought they looked a bit plain, pairing it with a pastel pink top. Harry was surprised with her style after meeting her various times in different outfits. He was surprised at how soft she dressed in pastels. She may have a bold personality, but her fashion was delicate and warm. It was a nice balance.

He nearly runs into Carols as he made his way to his office, too busy thinking of the girl he left at home. "Sorry, bud."

"No problem, Harry. Surprised to see you here," Carols tells him, everyone knowing Sunday was Harry's day off.

"Chief had something come up and asked me to come in. I should be out of here by eight tonight if we're lucky."

Carlos smiles, "with you around, we usually are."

Harry chuckles, telling him he'll be in his office if he needs anything. He looks around his desk and sighs at how much has piled up already.

Might as well get ahead.

It's a few hours when Harry realizes the house is quiet. He peaks around the window and figures they are all in the common room. It's only one, and thankfully there have been no calls, and if it continues, then he will make it to lunch with his angel.

He shoots her a text.

Angel

13:24 PM

I miss you. Counting down the minutes until I get to see you xxx

Harry clicks send and smiles down at his phone. 2:30 couldn't come fast enough.

As he gets up to stretch and go for a snack in the kitchen, he takes a deep breath because as confident as he may seem, he isn't around the second shift. They don't know him so well, and Harry ultimately is shy. He may be able to hide it, but he has small quicks that others pick up on. Something he knows Y/N spotted quickly, like when he toes his foot into the ground or when he begins to chip at his nails, and Y/N's favorite is when he moves his hands behind his back and sways side to side. She finds it endearing, but others might not think it's leadership material.

He walks into the lounge to cross to the kitchen when a few heads turn to him, but before they can say a word, the alarm rings, and Harry is literally saved by the bell.

Not a second to waste, everyone heads over to the rig and quickly suits up. Harry is Lieutenant meaning he's in charge of the scene today, seeing as their captain and Chief aren't here today. Harry respects all the firefighters and knows this will go well if everyone carries out their job.

It's a factory fire, and as soon as they arrive, Harry can see it's burning fast. He's not sure how many people are there, but he calls in for reinforcements knowing they will need all the manpower they can get.

"This is House 102; please send more units available. The factory fire is burning at a faster rate than we can control. My team is going in now. There are five people unaccounted for; the left side of the building is clear." Harry speaks into his two-way radio.

"Carlos," the young firefighter jogs over, eyes on Harry, no longer staring at the roaring fire. "You're going in with Baz. Stay close and don't go up the second floor; you need to be quick in and out."

"Who's going with you, Lieutenant?" Carlos asks, clearly worried.

"Jameson and Rey are coming with me; stay safe, and if anything happens, just radio in."

"You got it!" Harry pats his shoulder and walks off towards the two waiting men.

Harry knows the men well, he trained them when they came into the house, but they preferred B-shift instead of being with him. One spot was available, and he knew they didn't want to be separated. Rey and Jameson have been dating for two years, but that's a secret only very few know. It's not prohibited, but if it gets more serious, one will have to relocate to a new station. They simply aren't ready for that, and indeed Harry would be sad not to have them around the house or hearing their stories. It just adds a more considerable risk because, at the end of the day, the job is first.

Rey walks towards the entrance with Harry following right behind. Jameson, a few feet back, calling out for anyone in there that needs help.

"Fire department, call out." Echoes out as much as it can as the fire begins to roar louder.

The heat gets worse the further they walk in; they turn right at the edge of a desk labeled "Torres."

"H, there!" Rey shouts, rushing over to a man knocked unconscious and had heavy storage struck over his legs, pinning him down. Harry and Jameson run over, assessing the man before making any sudden moves.

Jameson finds a pulse, weak but there. He gets the extra mask over the man's face hoping it'll wake him up soon.

"On the count of three, we lift," Harry tells the two men standing to a stand as the others do the same.

They nod. "One, two, three." They grunt in unison, pushing the container to a standing position. Harry looks over the man's legs and is thankful there is no blood, but there will be swelling and bruises. "Right, Rey, take him out. We'll keep searching."

Rey nods, lifting the man over his shoulder as he was trained to do, and rushes out of the burning building. Harry and Jameson have just learned a new area when the radio comes on. "Lieutenant Styles, it's Carlos. We found two men; only one remains unaccounted for."

Harry nods. "Got it, no one comes back in. We'll be out soon."

He now leads the way, making his way towards a stairway. There's no fire here, but it's moving faster, and smoke is thick. Whoever is in here might not last much longer without oxygen.

"Fire department, call out," Harry shouts, voice firm.

"Here.." a whisper is heard, both Harry and Jameson freeze. Once more, "here" is yelled but sounds muffled.

Harry looks around, not seeing anything but fire, and fears the structure will collapse soon. Just as he was about to yell again, he sees a can knocked, and a man hidden under a black rag is seen. Jameson rushes over, helping the man sit up. He's older, well into his sixties. He doesn't look too well; he has a few scapes.

"Right, we need to head out," Jameson tells Harry, helping the man stand up who is fighting consciousness.

"This is Lieutenant Styles; on our way out found the last man. Have paramedics on standby."

"Got it, Styles. Get out quick."

Jameson and Harry get the man up and head to exit. Harry can see the light of day and knows he will be late for lunch, but thankful Y/N is understanding and very forgiving. He'll make it up to her by buying dessert.

Just as they almost reach the door, a piece of dry wood comes falling down, separating Harry and Jameson; luckily, it did not hit them, but now Harry has to find a new way out. It's not looking good.

"Harry," Jameson looks panicked, but Harry stays calm.

"Get him out, now," Harry tells him, looking in every direction for what to do.

"No, I won't-" Harry cuts him off.

"Jameson, get this man out. He needs medical attention. That's an order." Voice full of authority with no room to argue.

Jameson nods and heads out. "I'm coming back for you."

Harry chuckles. He sees a small path, but it'd be a more extended way out. He debates what to do. He could wait, but the longer he stays, the quicker this building is beginning to collapse.

It takes him two seconds to decide to go right and find a new route out instead of staying put. He walks and only gets hotter as the fire begins to surround him. He's good at not panicking, always thinks better under pressure, but this is getting intense. Harry climbs over a crate and bends low to go through this tight space. He sees the exit, it's still a bit away, but he knows he is in the clear.

That's when he hears a big explosion knocking him forward. His oxygen masks flys off, landing a few feet away. As Harry reaches his hand out to get it, he's pulled back. He looks behind and sees he's stuck. There are crates stacked on top of him. The air is thick of smoke, and with no oxygen, it seems like the fire will soon enough engulf him.

Shit.

He's really in trouble now.

Harry presses his radio, holding it, hoping it's still working. "This is Harry," He coughs. "I'm trapped under a few crates. I can't reach my ask. I'm west of the building."

"Harry, hold on. We're going in." Harry hears Jameson reply, but he's fading quickly.

He shakes his head. "Can't go to sleep, but this smoke is too thick to actually see anything, let alone for his team to find him.

"Tell…" He coughs again, and this time doesn't stop for what feels like five minutes but is only a few seconds. "Tell angel, I'm sorry."

A voice comes over the speaker, but Harry's eyelids are fluttering shut, the weight of the crates is too much, and the smoke only gets deeper in his lungs if he keeps speaking.

Harry welcomes the darkness as he sees the one person he was supposed to meet for lunch. She's holding an outstretched hand for him to take and who is he to ever say no to her.

Real or not, he goes to her, and soon enough, he falls unconscious, not feeling when his team lifts him out and puts him in the back of an ambulance.

Y/N decided to show up a bit earlier for their lunch date, putting in their order early, wanting to maximize all their time together. She wouldn't see him until late that night, and honestly, she wasn't a fan of being separated on her favorite day of the week.

She sits on a bench right outside, both sandwiches wrapped tucked away in a brown paper bag and a lemonade sitting next to her untouched. It was his favorite, too sweet in her opinion. Still, Harry loved it, especially since he wasn't one to indulge in sweets unless they were hers.

Knowing Harry could be running late, she pulls out a book from her orange tote bag that Harry gifted to her. The book was Beach Read, Frankie recommended it to her then gave her the book saying she needed to read more romance books and not just poetry and nonfiction books. She actually enjoyed it, which surprised her, but even if she didn't, she's too invested to not find out the ending.

She was just starting chapter five when she feels too much time has passed and glances down at her phone.

2:55

25 minutes late isn't bad or unusual even; she decides to put the book away and keep an eye out for him. Usually, when he keeps her waiting, he makes up for it with a long kiss that never fails to take her breath away; she's excited about it now.

Time seems to go slower when she just sits waiting. She debates beginning to eat her sandwich when her stomach starts to growl. It's low, but she would feel bad if she began to eat, and that's when he shows up. She settles for waiting and instead takes a drink of the sweet lemonade.

As Y/N sits waiting for Harry, her phone begins to ring and displays an unknown number but the city's area code. Every bone in her body tells her to prepare for the worst but hopes she's paranoid.

She takes a deep breath before answering and bringing the phone up to her ear.

"Hello, are you angel?" A deep voice man asks.

"It's Y/N. Actually, can I ask who's calling?" She's holding her breath; only one person calls her angel.

"I'm calling on behalf of Lieutenant Harry Styles. Harry has been in an accident and was taken to the hospital. He asked us to call an angel on his way to the hospital. We assumed you were one of his emergency contacts."

Y/N feels her hands begin to shake. "What hospital?"

The man on the phone rattles the information, and she lets it all sink in. He hangs up, and she sits there waiting on the bench for her date that will not be showing up.

Her phone rings again, she answers without looking at the caller.

"Y/N," she recognized the voice; it's Mitch, and if he's calling, then it must be true.

"Mitch," she whispers, not recognizing her own voice. It's shaky, tears beginning to well up.

"Where are you?"

"At the bistro a street down from the station." She replies, hoping he's coming for her.

"I'm close; we'll pick you up and go see him, darling." She nods but remembers he can't see her.

Y/N isn't sure why she's not crying. She feels the tears, but it's like they are stuck; her heart hurts, and she knows that says enough. "We were supposed to meet for lunch. I got worried when he didn't show up, but I didn't think--" he interrupts her.

"Harry is going to be fine, trust me. He's okay, and he needs us there."

Y/N doesn't reply because she sees him pulling in. Mitch is in the passenger seat, Sarah is driving. She doesn't say a word as she swings open the door and settles in the back.

She sets her hands in her lap; she can feel herself trembling. She can feel herself breaking because she won't know if he's okay until she sees him. Mitch can say he's fine, but she needs to see for herself.

Sarah and Mitch share a concerned look; Y/N doesn't notice her eyes looking out the window.

"Y/N?" Mitch begins, voice full of concern. "Do you- are you okay to go see him?"

"Of course." She replies quickly. "He needs me; well, I hope he does."

"Course he needs you. Needs his angel by his side." Sarah tells her calmly, wanting to see her smile, but it doesn't work because only Harry should be calling her that. She shouldn't be on her way to see him in a hospital bed. She should have seen him next to her on that bench as he ate his sandwich and gave her kiss and kiss as she told him stories.

They are silent the rest of the way. Sarah pulls into an empty parking space, and she rushes after Mitch, who seems to know exactly where Harry is as he rushes past the front desk. The only thing that slows them down is waiting for the elevator; she gladly would have taken the stairs if Mitch didn't tell her that he's on the sixth floor. Instead, she waits impatiently for the old elevator that will take her to see her love.

He is going to be okay. He has to be okay. Y/N keeps those thoughts running through her head as Mitch and Sarah guide her to room 613.

Mitch walks in first, holding the door open, Sarah places a comforting hand on her back, and Y/N feels supported and loved, but nothing prepares her for what she is about to walk into.

The constant beep of Harry's heart monitor is the only thing that can be heard in his private room. The beep is steady; it makes her let out a deep breath. The monitor already calming her down, she approaches slowly as if he'd wake if she'd walk any faster.

She sits in the uncomfortable chair next to his bed and pulls it as close as she can.

Y/N just stares at him, taking it all in. He looks like he's resting peacefully like he should originally have been when they started this day together. His curls are disheveled, his face dirty with smoke stains and a few gauzes wrapped around his arms. She can't see much else but knows he's got a road of recovery still ahead of him.

"Hi, Harry," she whispers, her hand slowly reaching under the white sheet to grab hold of his right hand. "I'm right here, okay. Take your time waking up; there's no rush. Just know that I'm not going anywhere."

She pauses, hoping for a reply even though she knows she won't get one. "We can also discuss how I'm sort of one of your emergency contacts."

Y/N presses her lips to his hand. "Need you to wake up, want to see those Rapunzal eyes." She sits back, not removing her hand from his. Sarah has not taken her eyes off of her, Sarah might feel like she might blow up soon, but being at his side, she has begun to feel better.

"Harry, we're here for you. The whole team is outside in the lobby, probably why they sent us to the floor with the biggest waiting area. Even young Carlos is out there, saying you gave them a scare but really hopes you never pick up another B-shift again." Mitch sniffles before stepping out of the room. Sarah walks over to where he was standing.

"Hey Harold, it's trivia night in a few days, and kind of counting on you to get us those free drinks." Sarah chuckles. "It's been a while since we've been in the hospital. I think it was when I made you all donate blood for that ambulance competition. Fun times, now you rest and get better. The good thing is you have the best nurse looking out for you." Sarah glances at Y/N, sending her a small smile.

Y/N sits back in her chair as Sarah sits in one by the window. She knows she's in for a long afternoon and an even longer night.

Harry's head is throbbing.

He's not sure why. The last he remembers is leaving Y/N's house to go for his shift at the station.

They were meeting for lunch; he's sure she wouldn't let him drink any alcohol on the job.

Harry slowly opens his eyes and is blinded by the bright light. He sees a photo of the sunset right in front of him, and a tv hung up; if he's not mistaken, he's in a hospital room, primarily due to being in an uncomfortable bed. The oxygen mask over his face is also a dead giveaway he was in an accident.

He looks around, and he sees he is not alone. His angel is sleeping, a tight grip on his right hand; she looks exhausted. Mitch walks in just as Harry was about to wake her. Y/N mumbles and sits up, pulling her hand away from his to rub the sleep away. Harry wants to tell her to stop knowing how much it actually irritates her eyes, especially when she tubs a little harsher than usual.

"Were you able to find tea, Mitch?" Y/N asks, looking over at him.

"Sarah's bringing it over." Mitch's gaze never turns to her staying on Harry; this confuses Y/N and turns back around in her seat to look at a resting Harry but instead finds his eyes on her.

"Harry!" Y/N scoots forward, grasps his hand in hers. "You're awake. Mitch, the nurse, please."

Harry raises his free hand to take off the mask. He wants to speak, but this won't allow him. "No, love. Got to keep it on."

Harry's eyes close, then flutter open. He stares at Y/N, his eyes kind but defiant. He takes the mask off, coughing a bit; it makes Y/N feel nauseous, knowing he's not doing so well.

"I think you need to keep it on, Harry." She says, "the nurse needs to see it when she comes in soon."

"Hey, angel," he says in a raspy voice. It sounds like he's in pain when he talks.

"Yes?" She asks.

"I'm sorry for scaring you."

Y/N shrugs, "no big deal. I wasn't even scared."

Harry smiles, showering her his dimples since she last saw him this morning. He begins to laugh but stops when it causes him to cough. Y/N lets him settle down before bending down to gently kiss him.

"Now, let that hold you over, and put the mask pack on."

Harry nods. "Anything for you, my angel."

It's a half-hour before the doctor comes in, and by that time, Harry had fallen back asleep, only just waking up a few minutes before the man walked through the door. Mitch alerted everyone outside he was awake and doing good.

Dr. Vazquez walked white coat open, displaying a purple button-up and a bright yellow tie. It puts a smile on Y/N's face.

"Hello, Mr. Styles. Glad you're awake."

"Me too, Doc. Nice tie."

Dr. Vaquez smiles, looking down at himself, "Thank you, my wife picks out my tie every morning before she heads off to work."

"Lucky man," Harry tells him.

"That I am." Dr. Vazquez replies. "You've got a mild concussion, nothing serious, but you are allowed to sleep while you're here. We've got a good team looking out for you. You've got a few burns, but those will heal nicely if properly cared for. A few deep bruises on your leg and one on your rib cage, no blood clots. It will hurt to walk for a few days."

"Nothing too bad, then," Harry sighs, relaxing in bed.

"I've looked at your charts, and it looks like you will be making a full recovery and should be back on the job in three or four weeks. In the meantime, you will need to stay overnight and keep taking in oxygen. I see the nurse changed your mask. Please don't remove this one." Harry nods. "Any questions?"

Harry shakes his head no, "Not at the moment."

"Alright, I'll be off then. I'll come to see you tomorrow midday, and we'll talk about going home. I hear you have a waiting room full of people dying to see; just be aware that visiting hours end at nine, but if you're kind to Nurse Lucy, she'll be lenient to ten."

"Thank you, Dr. Vazquez." Mitch and Y/N say in unison as the man exits the room.

"That's the quietest I've ever seen you, firebug." Harry teases.

"You hush." She lightly pats his arm.

Mitch laughs, "going to go tell them you're allowed, visitors."

Y/N and Harry sit in silence. He can tell she has something on her mind, a slight frown on her face. He wonders if it's about him if she won't be able to handle dating someone who can be hurt by the job. Harry honestly does not want to lose her.

"I'm going to step out," Y/N tells him, looking down at their joined hands, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"Y/N," Harry sighs.

"You've got lots of people waiting to see you and roughly have an hour to see them all. I'll be close by." She leans down, presses a kiss to his cheek, and walks out before he can reach out to stop her.

She steps out while a few members of his team come in to see him offering her a smile as she passes them. As much as she didn't want to leave him, she needed a moment away, and he needed a moment with his family.

God, Y/N has never felt so scared, and now a minute alone, everything is beginning to set in. She has no idea where the restroom is, and the next thing she knows, she's running into someone, but it seems they recognize her because they say her name, and the next thing she knows, she's crying, sinking to the floor. She feels arms wrap around her.

Shushes in her ear, brushing the ends of her hair. It's calming, but she needs to let all the tears she's been holding in.

"Y/N," she can now recognize the voice as Sarah's, "I'm going to help you stand and sit you in the chair.

Y/N feels herself nod.

She begins taking deep breaths, never letting Sarah pull her hand away. It is the only thing keeping her grounded.

"I got her some water." Y/N hears Frankie whisper handing it to Sarah before taking the seat to the left of her.

"I'm okay," she repeats. "I'm okay."

"Y/N," Sarah begins.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, sweetie." Frankie brushes her hair back.

"I'm supposed to be strong; I have to be strong to do this to stand by his side," Y/N tells them, beginning to let her emotions out.

"No one is expecting you not to cry."

"Bu-" Sarah interrupts her.

"No. stop. Accidents happen, and so do injuries. It's okay to be scared and hurt."

"I want to be strong for him." She whispers.

"You are. You never left his side; you talked to him. You're crying now because you care."

She wipes her eyes with her sweater sleeves. "I love him, and I was so scared that when I got the call, I'd never get to tell Harry."

"Then you tell him as soon as you walk back into his room."

"Thank you."

"Nothing to thank, I care about you, and I know Harry would be grateful to know you're not alone. You've always got us. Now let's grab something to eat, and we'll come back in an hour once all of them go home."

She chuckles. "Alright."

"Text me where you're sitting. I'll pop in to see Harry, then meet you."

"You don't have to," Y/N tells Frankie because she knows she is just as concerned about her friend.

"Are you kidding me? You're my friend first, always."

Sarah and Y/N walk down to the cafeteria. She knows she isn't okay but is feeling better, finally letting emotion out. It was only a matter of time before she let the dam break; she's just happy it was not in front of Harry.

The girls sit in the cafeteria munching on snacks for well over an hour. Mitch sends them a message letting them know all the crew has left and it's time to say goodbye for the night. Frankie wishes her goodnight downstairs with promises to come to see her tomorrow and bring her a change of clothes.

"Let's walk you back," Sarah tells her, linking their arms together.

"Do you think he'll know?" Sarah takes a good look at her and grimaces. "I'll just say I tripped, and it made me cry." Y/N jokes.

"I don't think he'll believe that."

"Yeah, me either." The girls walk out of the elevator as their laughter dies down.

They settle in silence as they make their way to his room, Sarah holding her hand leading the way. Mitch is in the chair she was in for so many hours before waiting for him to wake up. Mitch hears their footsteps and turns his head, but Harry is frowning, looking out the window at the dark sky.

Y/N doesn't know what to say, but one look at him has her heart filling up with relief; he's okay.

He's fine, and he gets to go home soon, and she gets to love him all she wants.

Harry turns his head as she steps forward. "Angel," he breathes out.

It makes her eyes well up with tears again. "I love you," she just lets it out, as if she's told Harry this every day as if she never went a moment not saying it.

"Oh my angel," Harry begins to cry, feeling overwhelmed and incredibly happy. His angel loves him, and although this isn't a perfect day, the moment is.

Mitch and Sarah sneak out quietly, shutting the door behind them to give them their privacy.

"I love you so much. Please come here." Harry replies, voice shaky.

In the next second, she's moving forward, pulling the chair as close as she can as he grabs her hands, squeezing them tightly. She leans down and presses her lips to his chapped pink lips. They move gently, pouring all their love and fears into the kiss. Telling each other that the worst is over and they are together, and they are fine. Y/N pulls back, knowing she can't kiss him as long as she'd like due to his sensitive lungs.

"Harry, I love you, and I was so scared I'd never get to say it."

"I'm sorry, angel; I never wanted you to get a call like this, at least not before talking about it."

"Me either," She sniffles, no longer able to control her tears, "but it happened, and I'm just happy you're okay."

"I'm okay," he repeats. She smiles, taking one of her hands out of his hold to wipe his tears away; Harry can't help but lean his head into her gentle touch. "I'm okay because my angel is always looking after me.

"Harry."

"It's true. I've never been luckier and safer since you came into my life." She smiles. "But there's something we have to talk about." He continues, and by the tone of his voice, it's going to be serious.

"Are you okay?"

"What? I'm fine. You're the one in a hospital bed." Her tone is defensive.

"There's something wrong. I can see it."

Y/n sighs, taking a deep breath. She takes her hand out of his hold.

Harry is quick to mask his hurt.

"I don't like that you're hurt. I hate that we aren't at home in the kitchen dancing around to your Sunday playlist as I bake you a new treat." She says in a rush.

"Hey, love, relax," he says and gestures for her to move in closer. She does so, allowing him to take hold of her hands with a firm grip this time.

"You're upset because I got hurt?" She nods in reply to his question. It's stupid because, of course, he's going to get hurt; it'd be naive to think he wouldn't in his job.

"It's part of the job." He says simply. It's something he wants her to accept and remember. She thinks back to a month into dating when he told her about his ex-girlfriend and how she couldn't handle the unknown of the job each day he left her. Y/N thought she'd be fine, but she loves him, and losing him would be something she could never recover from.

"I know. It's just not easy to see." Her voice was quiet and defeated.

"What do we do?" Harry asks, and Y/N freezes; she can feel her heart beating in her ears.

What do we do?

"What do you mean?" She can feel her hands begin to shake.

"This can happen again." He gestures to him in the hospital bed.

"I know." She says softly.

"Is this something you can handle or not?" He asks very direct. She knows this might not be the first time he's had the conversation, but she just told him she loved him, and he's questioning her. She's allowed to feel this way, but it doesn't mean she can't handle it.

"Y/N," he begins, "I'm incredibly happy with you. I see you and me together for a long time. You're it for me, but this job is my life."

"I know," she repeats. "I would never ask you to give up your job."

Harry stares at her; heartbreak passes through his eyes. "Are you asking me to give you up?

She shakes her and begs for the tears not to fall, but it's no use. She feels them falling and can't wipe them as Harry has a hold of her hands.

"Harry, I love you." He frowns as if fearing the worst. "I love you, and I'd rather love you every moment I have you than let you go now and never know what could have been."

"Oh, thank god." Harry lets out a deep breath. She giggles. "I'm sorry we couldn't have this conversation earlier; honestly, I feared if I brought it up, you could possibly break up with me, and I selfishly wanted to have you longer."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere, not if it's up to me. Seeing you laid up is hard but knowing I get to be there for you makes up for it. Also helps that I'm a nurse."

"That it does."

Y/n grins at Harry, leaning in to kiss him, short and sweet for now. Each kiss never fails to make her heart race, and due to Harry's heart monitor, she knows it does the same to him. They sit in silence, staring at each other as Harry traces small shapes against Y/N's cheeks, loving the feeling of her in his hand. Especially when she lets out a soft giggle when he hits a sensitive spot.

"Move in with me," Y/N blurts out after a while of silence.

It shocks Harry. "What?"

"Until you're better. That way, I can be your in-home nurse."

"Only until I'm better?" She nods. "So, you'll give me the boot after." Harry teases.

Y/N can feel her cheeks warming up but pushes through, "Only if you're a bad patient."

Harry smiles, dimples on full display for her, always for her. "Okay, I can be good and naughty only when you ask."

"Harry!" She gasps.

He throws his head back, laughing.

"God, I'm so lucky to love you." His words warm her heart, and she promises to tell him every day from now on.

"Now get up here and cuddle me. I got Mitch to cue up Netflix."

"Are you sure?" She stands slipping her shoes off, knowing he won't be taking no for an answer.

"Going to deprive an injured man of what he wants most?"

"Guess not."

"Good."

Y/N crawls on and lays on his side, carefully resting her head on his chest. Harry presses kiss after kiss for his comfort, knowing he will be okay and has his favorite person by his side. She chooses Legally Blonde knowing it's Harry's comfort movie as much as he tries to deny it.

For an unusual start to their Sunday, it ends right; together in bed, a hospital bed but nonetheless a bed, together arms wrapped tight around each other.

Y/N might not have liked that Harry got hurt, but he's okay, and he will recover.

That's all she could ever ask for.

thank you so much for reading!

please send me a message of what you thought or if you'd like to see more firefighter harry

I adore you. take care xx

[wlwmarvelenthusiast]

Turn Your Luck

Summary: After a day filled with bad luck and a series of unfortunate events, Natasha manages to turn your day around

Pairing: Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: None

Words: 6,167

When you woke up in the morning and smacked your big toe off your bed frame, you didn't even think twice of it. It sent a jolt all throughout your foot, but after a few swear words, you were already feeling a little better. You didn't bother making the bed you'd just stood up out of. All your life you'd reasoned that it wouldn't be 24 hours before you just messed it up again. You grabbed a towel and moved into the bathroom. The hot shower made you forget all about the sore toe you'd been sporting only a moment earlier.

You were feeling great when you stepped out of the shower. The warm water had always instilled comfort into your very bones even this early in the morning. You wiped some of the condensation off the mirror to brush your teeth. The tube of toothpaste was completely empty, and the drawer where you usually kept the new ones was also barren. You rolled your eyes at your own irresponsibility, before brushing your teeth without any toothpaste and then using some mouthwash to try and compensate for it. You stepped out of the bathroom.

You got dressed in your favourite white shirt and black pants before making your way into the kitchen. You tossed your phone onto the counter as you passed it on the way to the small kitchen table. You were after the fruit bowl, which was already needing a refill. There were still a few apples left, though, and you were expecting to have one for breakfast. You were mistaken. You pulled the empire apple out of the blue bowl to find the bottom had grown immensely soft and was clearly not in any condition to be eaten. You were disappointed but tossed it into the compost bin and moved on.

Humming a soft tune as you moved, you popped a pod into the single-serve coffee maker and pressed start. You were moving toward the fridge in no time when a strange noise caught your attention. You whirled to face the coffee maker. Instead of the steady stream of coffee you usually got, it was spraying the hot liquid like it was a shaken pop can. You jumped behind the small island, using it as a shield. Thankfully, you'd managed to keep your white shirt safe from the wrath of the coffee. When it stopped, you finally dared step back into the kitchen. The dark liquid was dripping down every nearby surface. You huffed, running some paper towel across the biggest surfaces quickly.

You gave up on the coffee. It seemed you weren't going to get it anyway. You glared at the machine as if it had intentionally smitten you. Instead, you reached into the fridge instead and poured a glass of orange juice for yourself. You sipped it before setting it back onto the countertop. When your phone buzzed and indicated an incoming message, you reached for it. Your elbow hit your glass and it fell onto its side. The orange liquid spilled off the counter and into your white shirt. You gave the mess the middle finger, tossing a dishtowel on it to soak it up, with the intention of actually cleaning it after work. You already had to clean the coffee up anyway.

Any attempt at breakfast was abandoned. After the three kitchen incidents combined, you were convinced you'd be better off heading to some drive-thru on the way to work. Now in a new blue shirt, you grabbed your bag and headed out your front door. You unlocked your car, slid into the driver's seat, and hit the ignition. The car sputtered for a few seconds, before refusing to start. You tried again, and then again, before groaning, taking out your frustration on the steering wheel in front of you. You stood up and stepped back out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind you with much more force than necessary.

Then, it was off to the bus stop. You headed down the sidewalk to the nearest one, pulling out your phone as you walked so you could check your app to find out when the next bus was coming. When you saw big red letters informing you that the bus was halted until further notice, though, you had to refrain from throwing your phone hard into the concrete. You supposed you should have had a little sympathy for those in the accident that had halted your bus, but you couldn't find it in yourself right then. Your morning was not going well.

It was a good thing you hadn't smashed your phone against the sidewalk. It was the only thing you could use to get you to work now. You switched apps and ordered an Uber to come to pick you up. When the driver arrived, you climbed into the back seat and gave him the address of your place of work. He nodded and pressed his foot down on the gas. Your eyes had been glued on your phone, but your gaze flickered at the driver's movement. He was adjusting the mirror and you were absolutely sure he'd angled it to face you a little better. You could have puked when you realized the creep was checking you out. You didn't say anything, at this point just wanting to get to work and be done with it.

You practically sprinted into the building when you arrived. Security didn't seem to mind your rush, having seen your face every day for over three years anyway. You hopped up the stairs two at a time, faster than the elevator would have been able to carry you anyway. When you reached the meeting room door you took a few seconds to catch your breath, not wanting to seem too flustered in your professional environment. When you finally pushed the door open, everyone was rising to their feet. Their eyes all darted up to glance at you. You smiled sheepishly.

"You're late."

"I know, I'm sorry." That was honest. You might have been frustrated, but you hadn't wanted to inconvenience any of your coworkers as well. "I've really had a rough morning."

Your boss nodded. "We've all had those days. I'll send you an email and give you a summary."

You thanked him and left the meeting room with everyone else. You trudged into your office, throwing your bag to the floor, and refraining from slamming the door behind you. You collapsed into your office chair and closed your eyes for a brief moment. But you didn't have time for that. The paperwork on your desk needed your attention. You gave it. The hours you spent on all the files, emails, and documents were the smoothest thing that had happened all day, even if it was mind-numbingly boring and felt absolutely endless. It might have been smooth sailing, but it didn't brighten your spirits at all.

When your phone rang, you reached out blindly until you felt your hand come in contact with it. You shuffled it until it was upright in your hand. You were so completely absorbed in the document that was displayed on your computer screen that you didn't even bother to look at your phone as you fumbled to slide the answer bar. Only when the incessant ringing had finally ceased did you know you'd successfully answered the call. You hesitated before you slowly raised the phone to your ear, eyes still scanning the lines in front of you.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Hun."

Immediately you regretted not checking the caller ID before answering the phone. You could have kicked yourself. In fact, the move was so ridiculously and incredibly stupid that you could have beaten yourself to a pulp. The voice on the other end of the line was familiar, completely unwelcome, and not a surprise after having the day that you were having. You turned away from the screen, resting your elbow on the desk and massaging the migraine that was beginning to form in your forehead. You sighed heavily, sure she heard it.

"Hi," you stated. "What?"

"Hun-"

"Please stop calling me that, I already asked you."

You had asked her that. Multiple times. You'd broken up months ago after she'd broken your heart. Catching her in bed with someone else had left you shattered and unsure if you could trust anyone. You'd been okay for a couple months now after some comfort and reassurance from your best friend, who you were having dinner with tonight. You glanced at the time. Your attention was unfortunately brought back to the girl on the phone, though, when she sighed your name as if she were the one who was hurt. She had no right to be hurt.

"I just-"

"I'm working," you finally said bluntly. "Is it urgent?"

"No. No, I'm sorry. I... I can call you tomorrow."

You wanted to snap and tell her not to bother, but you didn't. You just nodded despite her not being able to see it, said goodbye, and hung up. Once more you were faced with the urge to smash the stupid phone. Once more you fought it, instead shoving it into a drawer so you could ignore it and work on the mountains of paperwork you had to get through before your six o'clock reservations. You got back to it. Soon enough, the information was able to push your ex far from your mind. You didn't want to think about her anyway.

It felt like it had been eons since you'd arrived at work, and yet, according to the clock in the corner of your screen, you still had over an hour until your reservation. You might have slammed your head down onto the desk in front of you had two things not stopped you. The first was the migraine that was still throbbing in your head, and the second was the ringing of your office phone. Even though you knew she couldn't call you on here, you checked the caller ID before you picked up this time. It was the front desk.

"Hey, Tamara. What's up?

"There's someone here for you. She said you're going to miss your reservations."

"Reservations? It's only 4:45."

Tamara hesitated. "Daylight savings. It's 5:45."

You had entirely forgotten about that and even if you hadn't, you would have expected the computer would auto-update something like that. But you had forgotten, and the computer hadn't jumped forward, and now you were going to be late, and you still hadn't turned in the file that you'd promised to turn in today. You groaned in frustration, but transferred the file to a flash drive, shoved it into your bag, and left your office. Clearly, everyone else had remembered the time change, as the office was empty.

You cursed all of your coworkers in your head. You made for the elevator. When you stepped on and hit the button to bring you down to the lobby, you actually crossed your fingers. With your luck, all of the cables on the elevator would snap and you'd plummet all the way to the parking garage and die in a fiery explosion. Thankfully, your little gesture of luck seemed to work, for the doors slid open safe and sound in the lobby. As you stepped out, though, your bag hit the door, and the company ID snapped off and slipped in that tiny little crack between the elevator and the floor and out of sight. You cursed loudly.

You didn't dare shine your flashlight down the crack to try and see how far it'd gone; either your phone would have gone down after it out the doors would have slammed shut on either side of your skull. Neither of those things were a chance you were willing to take. You abandoned your ID and continued to the front desk, letting Tamara know what had happened. She nodded in understanding before pointing out your best friend, who had come to collect you after you'd let her know this morning that you'd taken an Uber to work. You approached her and tapped her shoulder.

"Hey," she said brightly.

"Hey, Nat."

Natasha Romanoff was the best thing to happen to you all day. She was your very best friend. Too, maybe you wanted her to be a little more. She was the most beautiful woman you'd ever laid eyes on, the red waves on her head only accentuating her emerald green irises, which sparkled when she smiled at you. That was only her physical beauty. Though she was, to most everyone that knew her, a tough, scary Avenger, you knew it was a façade. Natasha was the kindest, most generous, selfless, and caring person you'd ever had the pleasure of knowing.

"Tamara tells me you forgot about daylight saving time started last night."

"Shut up," you grumbled.

"Irritable because you lost an hour of sleep?"

"Nat," you said, already feeling bad for snapping at her. You rubbed your head. "I'm not having the greatest of days."

That was how your friendship with Nat was. You both understood that not every day was a good day. She tried to convince you not to compare, but you especially understood that. Natasha had been through hell on Earth when she was a child and you wished with every fibre of your heart that you could bear some of that for her. But you couldn't, and you were sure that if you could have, she wouldn't let you. So instead, you understood the bad days, and in turn, she did too. When you stated that today was one of those days, she turned to you with concern sparkling in those beautiful eyes.

"You okay?" She asked.

Your heart fluttered when her hand took yours.

It was a friendly gesture, of course, but you couldn't help but wish it otherwise. You wanted to hold her hand and have it not be just as a friend. You wanted to be able to intertwine your fingers with hers and squeeze her hand tight and feel that constant touch against her. You didn't want it to be friendly, you wanted it to be more. You wanted it to be so much more. You wanted to call her yours and for her to call you hers. But she was just a friend, and it was far better than nothing.

You hadn't always believed that someone could fall in love without some sort of a romantic relationship leading up to it. Now you realized it didn't need to be romantic. You and Natasha were close. You were closer than you'd ever been with anyone before. Because of that relationship, you knew you loved her. You were head over heels in love with her at this point, and you'd realized that a little while ago when you caught yourself fondly admiring her as she drummed her fingers against the table, deep in thought. It was a habit that had once had the ability to drive you up the wall.

"Hello?" She tried again. Her hand squeezed yours.

Your stomach flipped. "Yeah. I'm alright. Just waiting for my bad luck to run out."

"What happened?"

"What didn't happen?" You scoffed. "My fruit is all spoiled, my coffee maker broke, I spilled orange juice on my favourite white shirt, my car won't start, my bus wasn't running this morning, my Uber driver was a creep, I missed my meeting, I almost missed our reservations, I lost my ID badge and... she-who-must-not-be-named called."

Natasha's eyes darkened, her hand gripped yours tighter, and her gaze moved to meet yours. You took a chance and swiped your thumb over the back of her hand to try and get her to ease the tension out of her muscles. It seemed to work, as she relaxed a little. Her shoulders moved back down, the crease in her eyebrow lessened, she loosened her grip on your hand and exhaled carefully. She nodded in thanks, green eyes once against soft and gentle as she searched your eyes. You knew she was looking for any hint of you being upset. You weren't, though. You were with her.

Natasha hated your ex-girlfriend about a hundred times more than you did. She'd begged you to let her sneak over to her house at night and slash her tires and egg her house. You'd given that a firm no, not wanting Nat to get in any sort of trouble. It was Natasha's idea to never speak her name again, and to burn a bunch of photos and clothes that were left behind at your house. She'd gone so far as to have the bench you'd once carved your names into removed from the park and replaced with a brand new one... on Tony's Starks card, of course.

"What did she want?"

"Dunno. I told her I was busy," you actually laughed a little for the first time that day. "It wasn't exactly a lie. I was swamped today."

"Hey, if Fury is overworking you, I'll kick his ass."

Imagining Natasha kicking Nicholas Fury's ass was utterly amusing. You had no doubt she could, but Fury was a force. She'd kick his ass and the next day half of S.H.I.E.L.D. would be at her doorstep to retaliate. But he was a good boss. It wasn't his fault you'd procrastinated your own work for days. That was on you, and you knew it. So, you shook your head no, he wasn't overworking you. She seemed satisfied by that, but the topic of your ex wasn't dropped yet.

"Next time she calls you can direct her straight to me."

"Tasha, you won't answer."

"Damn right I won't."

You laughed again. It brought a smile to her face too.

With that, you continued on down the street without another word of she-who-must-not-be-named. You had almost reached the restaurant where Natasha had left the reservations when you stepped on something that most definitely was not concrete. If Natasha hadn't had your hand, your leg sliding out from underneath you would have left you on your ass. She held tight to your hand, her other arm catching you around the waist. You had to force yourself from blushing red as a tomato.

You glanced down at what you'd stepped in and could have punched someone. The white paint that was being used on the storefront had spilled onto the sidewalk and of course, you'd stepped in it in your new, black shoes. You scraped the bottom of it off on the sidewalk, grumbling all the while. Natasha had let go of your hand when you'd tugged it away from her to wipe the excess paint on the side of your shoe onto the post of the 'no parking' sign next to you. It was still ruined, but at least you'd gotten enough off that you wouldn't stain the restaurant's floor.

"You weren't kidding with the bad luck, huh?"

You shook your head no. You motioned onward, though. She got the hint, and you closed the distance between you and the restaurant. You shifted your bag on your shoulder as you stepped in, hoping they wouldn't notice the wet paint you were tracking onto their floors. If you managed in and out without them seeing, you'd be alright. It was New York City. You were sure people had walked in with worse things on the underside of their shoes.

You watched Natasha closely as she gave her name for the reservation. You hated how the host eyed her even more than you hated how your Uber driver had eyed you this morning. You didn't want anyone to eye her like that. You wanted to be the only one allowed to look at her like that. You knew you weren't, though. You ripped your gaze away from where it had been travelling along her jawline just in time for the host to arrive and lead you to your table. You sat across from her, keeping your eyes down and you collected your thoughts.

"What are you having?"

When you looked up, her eyes were trained on you. Her eyes were your absolute favourite part of her. They always shone so brightly, and so clearly expressed whatever she was feeling. They sparkled like they could see into your very soul and were so deep you could get lost in them for hours. Even the colour was perfect. They were that amazing shade of green that had very quickly become your favourite colour. You often found you'd been staring into them for a little longer than what might be considered normal. Now was one of those times. You looked back down at the menu.

"I'm not sure. Definitely a drink," you hummed. "Though I might get poisoned."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't think your luck is so bad that your assassin will choose to poison you today."

No, because she would protect you from anything. She always had. You might have been a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and perfectly capable of protecting yourself, but she was always stepping in front of you to defend you. You couldn't say you minded. You liked having her at your back. Some people had a physical location where they felt safe. You didn't. Natasha Romanoff was your safe place. When you were with her, you felt like nothing in the world could touch you. She wouldn't let anything hurt you, and you wouldn't let anything hurt her.

Soon enough the waitress was stepping up to your table and taking your order. You gave yours first, opting for a simple fettuccine alfredo. Natasha gave hers, unaware of the way you watched her lips moving as she talked. When the waitress left and she looked back to you, your eyes were cast toward the window, watching a young couple pass by, huddled close together in the cool March evening. When she called for your attention and you gave it immediately, looking over to her. She sipped her wine as you did.

"You said your car wouldn't start?" She said.

"Yeah. It keeps sputtering on and on."

"I'll drive you home and take a look at it tonight. I know a thing or two about cars."

It was a good thing she did, because you knew absolutely nothing about what was going on under the hood of the car. All you could think was that maybe the battery had died on you, but that wasn't possible. If you'd left the lights on, you would have been able to see it through the window in your bedroom the night previous, and you hadn't. There was no other reason the battery could have been drained. You'd driven the car yesterday from your house to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s New York location. You might not have known what the hell was wrong, but Natasha would figure it out in seconds. The thought of her bent over to study the underside of the hood made you shiver.

The image was pushed from your mind when the waitress returned with your food. She placed your pasta down in front of you and you thanked her politely. She set Natasha's down as well. The redhead smiled widely and after double-checking that everything was alright, the server left the two of you to your dinner. Natasha glanced up at you, a very amused smile playing on her lips. You knew exactly what it was about, too. You'd gotten the wrong order and said absolutely nothing of it. Honestly, you didn't really care. At this point in the day, you just wanted to eat.

"You could've said something," Natasha teased.

"It's nothing. I'm hungry and this is just as good."

"We can still say something."

"It's fine," you assured.

"Let's stop and buy you a couple hundred good luck charms on the way back to your place."

You laughed aloud.

Dinner was good, despite having gotten the wrong order. You suspected that was due to Natasha's presence. The two of you had been exchanging stores of the craziest missions you'd ever gone on. Of course, she was winning. She was an Avenger. Your missions as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent were anything but boring, but they didn't compare to the alien invasion last year that Natasha had been at the heart of. You'd been helping from the edges of the city, evacuating civilians and the like, but you suspected she'd killed hundred more of the Chitauri than you did: one.

Before long you'd both finished, and the empty plates were cleared away. The server returned to you with the bill. You made sure your card was out before Natasha could even think about trying to pay. They collected your card, and you gave Natasha a very smug little smirk. She only rolled her eyes and thanked you softly. You thought all was said and done when the server returned. You prepared to leave but she shook her head, signalling you to stop what you were doing. She reached out, handing you your card back. You took it.

"I'm afraid the transaction isn't going through."

It seemed that your bad luck had struck again. You were fully confident that there was enough money in your account. There had been last night when you'd checked it, anyway. Either you'd had the misfortune of your card deciding to kick the bucket while you tried to buy dinner for Natasha, or even worse, someone had gotten into your bank account and cleared it out. That thought made your heart drop into your stomach as you reached for your phone, hardly noticing Natasha pulling out her own credit card this time.

You prayed for one tiny bit of luck today. Your prayers went unanswered. You logged into your online banking to find that someone had managed to get your credit card number and had been online shopping all day. Your card had long hit its limit and you were already dreading the phone call you were about to have with the bank. You huffed as you set your phone down roughly on the tabletop. Natasha glanced over at you as the server took her card this time. She raised an eyebrow. You were sure smoke was billowing from your ears.

"Luck isn't turning yet?"

You didn't answer that. "Thanks for dinner, Natasha."

She laughed. When the server returned her card and wished you both a good evening, she took your hand and dragged you back out the doors onto the noisy streets of New York. She was leading you back to S.H.I.E.L.D., where you knew she must have left her bike. When you got there, she scanned her ID and brought you both down into the parking garage. She brought you right to the motorbike and lifted the helmet off from where it was hanging on the handlebars. She reached out and set it on your head, doing it up underneath your chin. Her fingers brushed your skin as she worked at the straps.

"Normally I would never condone riding without a helmet, but I only have one. This head," she said, rapping her knuckles twice against the helmet on your head. "Is much more important than mine."

"Is not," you laughed. "There's hundreds of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, but there's only six Avengers."

"And there's only one you," she insisted. "The helmet stays on that pretty little head of yours, and that's final."

That compliment seemed to awaken the butterflies in your stomach. They were still present when you both climbed onto the bike. They fluttered even more when Natasha told you to put your arms around her and hold tight. You could have stayed like this forever if she'd asked you to. You almost wanted her to ask you to, because you loved the ways your arms fit perfectly around her waist. Facing forward, she wasn't able to see the smile that was growing on your lips. Maybe all that bad luck was to make up for this.

Reluctantly, you took your arms off from around her when she pulled into your driveway. She put the kickstand down and took the helmet once you'd pulled it off and handed it back to her. You straightened out your hair a little bit in the reflection of your car window. Wordlessly, Natasha had moved to the hood of your car and tapped on the red paint to get your attention. You unlocked the car and popped the hood for her. She unhooked the latch and lifted it up, studying the inside carefully. That scene you'd been picturing earlier was coming true before your eyes.

"Start the car for me?"

You nodded. You dropped your bag on the doorstep, digging through the pockets until your hand had closed around your car keys. You withdrew them by tugging on the dinosaur keychain that Natasha had once given you after winning it at the arcade, where you'd spent hours at all the different games. You slid into the front seat, turning on the car when Natasha gave you the thumbs up. The car sputtered loudly. Then it made a sound you might have mistaken for a gunshot. The backfire nearly made you jump out of your seat. You quickly got out.

"You alright, Nat?"

"I'm good," she nodded. She moved away from the car. "It's probably just your spark plugs. When's the last time you had them replaced?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Hell if I know. I drop it off for a tune-up and expect them to tune it up."

Natasha laughed. "I'll grab some tomorrow and replace them for you."

You nodded. You watched as she reached up and grabbed the hood of the car, closing it again. She rubbed her hands against her pants. You clicked a button on your car keys, locking the doors. The lights flashed to indicate that it was indeed secured. You fiddled with the keys in your hand to get the house key out, opening your mouth to invite Natasha in as well, but found you couldn't find the golden key. You growled at nothing and dug through every pocket in your bag to see if it had fallen off in there, but there was no trace of it.

"My house key is missing."

Natasha actually laughed at this. "Did you walk under a ladder this morning? Spill the salt? Break a mirror?"

You glared at her. "Can you help me get in through a window?"

She nodded. You both moved around to one of the windows that you'd left open last night, after telling her you weren't sure you had locked it when you shut it this morning. Indeed, she found that once you'd removed the screen, she was able to slide the window open. You linked your fingers together to make a spot for Natasha to use for leverage. You boosted her through the open window and then moved back to the front door just as you heard the deadbolt slide out of place.

"My hero," you grinned as she opened the door. "I owe you a drink. Come on."

"I still have to drive home."

"Stay the night," you offered. "If you don't, I could very well just get murdered tonight."

Natasha laughed. "Well, I'd better stay and make sure you're okay, then."

You smacked her gently. She knew her way around your small bungalow well, having visited what could have easily been a million times. She made herself at home on the couch, tossing her leather jacket beside her. You moved into the kitchen, only paying half a glance at the towels you'd thrown over the two spilled beverages. You poured the both of you a drink and then brought them into the living room, kicking back on the couch beside her. You grabbed the remote, clicking the TV on. The screen lit up the room. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the beautiful face beside you that had been illuminated. You turned back to the screen.

"I can put Netflix on," you said, pressing a button. "What do you want to watch?"

"Can I test your luck?"

"What?" You responded, turning your full attention to her.

She didn't offer an explanation. You felt her hand touch your thigh. Your breath hitched and the remote almost fell to the floor. You managed to set it down on the table as your cheeks began to burn red. She left her hand there for a few seconds before it slid away, letting you take a moment to remember how to breathe. Her hand moved away and wrapped around her glass. You knew how obvious you were being when you watched her touch the rim to her lips and the slight movements in her neck as she swallowed the alcohol. You needed a drink too, but you were frozen.

"I just mean... I could either turn your luck around or just maintain the bad luck."

You still didn't know what she meant. She was setting her glass down on the coffee table. Her eyes searched yours and you were once again tossed into the sea of green that you were so obsessed with. When she leaned forward and connected your lips, though, you lost sight of emerald green. Her eyes had shut and only a second later, yours had fluttered shut as well. You put a hand on the back of her neck to hold her closer and moved your lips with hers. You wondered briefly if you were dreaming. You didn't have long with your thoughts. Your mind was so overcome with whatever was happening right now.

Natasha pulled back. Her hand had, at some point, moved back onto your thigh, and was resting there gently. Your hand moved to cover it. She flipped hers over so that her fingers could intertwine with yours and for the first time, it didn't feel like it was just in a friendly manner. It felt so much more than that, just liked you'd wanted it to. Your eyes moved from there up to her face. She had been studying you intently. You'd never seen Natasha Romanoff look nervous. Not until that very moment. You chuckled a little, nervousness in your chest as well, and let your eyes fall.

"You definitely turned it," was all you said.

"Yeah?"

"By a long shot. I mean, I think this amount of good luck was enough to actually balance out the bad luck."

You didn't know Natasha could giggle, but she did. The sound made a smile immediately spread over your face. You reached out and took her hands in your own. You leaned forward and kissed her again, infatuated with the feeling of her soft lips pressed against yours so rough and yet somehow so soft. One of your hands pulled out of hers so it could thread through the red waves on her head. You'd wanted to do that for so long. She only pulled back when you'd both lost your breath. Your forehead rested against hers and you could smell the whiskey on her breath.

"Do you know how long I've wanted that?" You breathed.

"I'd guessed it, but I thought it was just my imagination because I wanted the same thing."

You laughed. She put her hands on your shoulders, pushing your back down against the couch and then putting her knees on either side of your waist. Her lips were on yours again, a little hotter this time. You didn't complain. You just let her lean down over you and kiss you and run her hand down your side. You only raised a hand to her chest and pushed her away when you once more felt the need for oxygen burning inside your chest. She didn't move far, face inches from yours, studying you this time from above. You blushed under her gaze.

"I... I've felt really strongly about you for a while," you said, hand moving so you could trace your fingertips across her cheek. "You know what I mean?"

"Are you trying to tell me you love me without saying you love me?" She asked, the teasing back in her voice again. "Because you're not going to scare me off. You can say it if you want."

"I love you, Natasha."

"I love you, too."

You couldn't help but laugh. It wasn't funny in any way, but maybe it was the relief trying to find a way out of your body. The sound seemed to make Natasha's eyes, sparkle. Your heart softened and the laughter fell from your lips and you didn't move a muscle. Her face was so beautiful looking down at you like it was. You felt so right having her touch you like this and touching her the way you were. Her hands were holding her torso up above yours and yours were touching her face so gently. It wasn't like a friend touched a friend anymore.

"Thanks for turning my luck."

"Are you kidding me? I'm the lucky one."

"I think we're both really fucking lucky, Natasha. Thank you."

[crackheadgeminibby]

better for you

pairing: chris evans x female!black!reader

warnings: age gap, angst, language

word count: 2.7k

a/n: this lowkey sucks and is very poorly edited, i’m sorry but on the plus side, i surpassed 400 followers yesterday!! so thank you to those 400+ people🤍🤍

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape of form or reposted on any other platform

not my picture

You didn’t consider yourself a jealous person. Much less a jealous girlfriend. Not at all. Never had and you thought you never would.

You had practically raised yourself as your parents had always been more preoccupied with their jobs. You loved your parents, you really did, but when your high school counselor told you that you could graduate high school a year and a half early, you took the opportunity to start college immediately and move out of your parents’ house. This drastic change when you were so young made you become extremely independent. Which is why your relationship with Chris worked almost perfectly. You valued your independence, as he did his, and you respected his independence, as he did yours.

As a corporate lawyer that had multiple firms around the country, you traveled a lot, needing to meet with clients. Chris, as an actor, also traveled a lot.

You both trusted the other without a doubt at the beginning of the relationship despite that Chris was, at first, a little wary of being with someone as young as you. As a 24-year-old, he thought that you should be living your life, partying, sleeping with whomever you wanted without being tied down, but you had explained to him that despite your age, those were not the things that you wanted.

You and Chris were truly made for each other, knowing the other more than they knew themselves. You would even dare to call yourselves soulmates.

Which is why you could not fathom why you were in your current situation.

You had left early in the day for California, where you were overseeing the opening and start-up of your newest firm. Chris, on the other hand, had left 3 days ago to go on some trip his publicist had arranged for him. You hadn’t bothered asking what it was about, assuming that it was about ASP. Plus, you didn’t mind it: he had to do what he had to do.

But now, you couldn’t believe yourself.

You were sitting on your hotel bed, in a white and fluffy robe, fresh out of the shower. Your computer was open in front of you, the TV was blaring the news and you had your phone in your hand. It was almost 11pm but you had been doing this for at least 3 hours. All three electronics were talking about the same thing: Are Chris Evans and Lily James dating??

It was a bit your fault that people gave themselves the right to assume things like that, to be honest, since you had been the one to pressure Chris about keeping your relationship secret. You knew that people would talk and judge you for your 15-year age gap. You, personally, didn’t care and neither did Chris but his career was dependent on his public image and you didn’t want to hold him back, especially not at a pivotal moment in his life like right now.

So, you had agreed on telling your families and your very close friends and Chris had convinced you to let him tell his publicist, Megan. God, she fucking hated you. When Chris arranged for you guys to meet, she had called you “a walking, breathing PR disaster”. You had laughed it off calling her funny, but you knew that she was 100% serious. You really shouldn’t have been surprised that she would do something so fucked up at some point.

A bunch of different news outlets were pumping out new stories every 30 minutes, each article a little more detailed than the previous. It was all over the Internet and it seemed to be the only thing that people cared about today.

Considering the 8-hour difference between London and San Francisco, you hadn’t been able to talk to Chris at all since you got to your hotel. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to talk to him. He hadn’t even tried to talk to you. Why was he avoiding you and acting like he had something to hide?

You’re reading the latest Daily Mail article on your computer about how Chris and Lily apparently got to his hotel in the same car when you hear your phone ring on the nightstand. You don’t even bother looking at the caller ID as you reach for your phone, eyes still glued to your computer and answer,

“Hello?”

You hear a loud exhale on the other end of the phone before you hear Chris’ tired voice, “Baby, hi.”

You tense up slightly before asking, trying to seem nonchalant, “What’s up?”

“Have you watched the news today?”

You bite your lip, thinking, before replying, lying through your teeth, “No, why? What’s going on?”

Chris sighs again before answering, “Nothing, it’s fine. How was your day?”

You roll your eyes. Was he seriously not going to say anything?

“Fine, but it’s really late and I have to get up early tomorrow so good night.”

You hang up the phone before Chris can answer anything. You throw the phone at the end of your bed, frustrated beyond belief.

You continue to read the Daily Mail article as you hear a message coming in. You don’t bother to get up to pick up your phone as you see the message appear on your computer screen a couple of seconds later.

chris💙, 11:01pm:

Good night baby girl. Good luck tomorrow🤍

You groan loudly at his message. Even when he had pissed you the fuck off, his words still brought butterflies to your stomach.

You disregard his message and finish reading the article. You roll your eyes as you close your computer and get up to put it on the hotel desk. As you’re walking back to bed, you take your phone from the end of the bed and put it on its charger, ready to go to bed.

You’re not sure how you manage to fall asleep that night as your mind swirls with unending thoughts.

When your alarm wakes you up at 6am the next day, you feel groggy, having slept very badly last night. Which was to be expected.

You get up and change while eating a protein bar before heading to the hotel gym: you needed to do something to get your energy up. Once you finish your workout, you head back to your room to get ready for the day.

When you get out of the shower, you open your computer and, having left the Daily Mail website open last night, you see a new article posted 2 minutes ago: Chris Evans and Lily James seen on a date in a London park.You groan loudly, closing your computer as you hear that your cell phone is receiving multiple texts.

You reach for your phone on the hotel desk and your eyes widen as you see your lock screen.

5 missed calls

12 messages

You open your Phone app seeing one call from Chris, two from your best friend, one from your brother and one from your mom.

You open the Messages app as a new message from your brother comes in.

will, 7:31am:

When did you break up with your boyfriend? And why didn’t you tell me?

you, 7:32am:

i didn’t

yet

will, 7:32am:

You know i’m gonna fucking murder him right?

You smile fondly at your brother’s concern, chuckling softly as you type your reply.

you, 7:33am:

as you should(:

You open the rest of your messages, mostly asking the same thing. You didn’t feel like talking about it anymore so, you ignore them until you get to your conversation with Chris.

chris💙, 5:22am:

Hey, I’m sure you’ve seen the articles by now.

I’m so sorry

Call me when you can, please. I really need to talk to you.

You bite your lip as you think about what to answer. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this right before your firm’s opening. Shaking your head, you lock your phone, putting it back on the desk, getting dressed.

As you get back to your hotel room, exhausted from your day, you hear your phone signal an incoming text for the millionth time today.

You sigh loudly: you knew it was Chris texting you again. You had been ignoring his texts all day because you didn’t want to get in a bad mood while you were opening the firm.

You put your purse and work bag on the floor, unlocking your phone. You open the conversation with Chris, scrolling through his messages.

chris💙, 6:15pm:

I’m leaving a bit earlier than I planned, I should be home tomorrow morning.

Are you back in Boston or are you gonna stay in LA?

You sigh, feeling guilty that you had been ignoring his texts all day. You start typing a reply, your finger hovering over the send button for a couple of seconds before clicking on it.

you, 6:17pm:

i’m still in san francisco i’m leaving tomorrow morning

As soon as your message goes through, you see the three dots pop up in the conversation.

chris💙, 6:17pm:

Oh my God, hi. Are you okay?

Can I call you?

You chew on your bottom lip: you really didn’t think he was going to answer that fast.

you, 6:18pm:

i’m about to take a shower then i’m gonna go to bed i’m really tired sorry

chris💙, 6:18pm:

Okay, I’m sorry

Good night

You groan loudly. You really didn’t know why you felt so guilty: he was the one running around with another woman. As you think about this, you realize that you didn’t really know who she was.

You shake your head at yourself as you pull up Google on your phone and look for her. You don’t even realize it but, 20 minutes later, you were now at the oldest post on her Instagram.

You curse at yourself, dropping your phone on your bed, and head to the shower.

You stay under the hot stream of the shower for at least an hour before you finally get out, toweling off.

You order some room service for dinner, settling down in front of a random show playing on the TV. After pushing your food around for half an hour, you sigh loudly, put the tray on the hotel desk and get under the covers before finally falling asleep.

You had not slept very well so you had been in a rush to leave the hotel and catch your flight to LAX in the morning. You were exhausted and hungry when you got to your shared LA home with Chris but there was no food in sight, considering that neither of you had been here in a couple of months.

As it was not too late in the day, you decide to take a nap and order some food after.

When you wake up a few hours later, the sun has already completely set and the house is pitch black. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and take your phone before heading to the living room to order some food.

As you enter the kitchen and are about to head to the living room, you hear a deep voice, “Hey, you’re up.”

Taken by surprise, you throw your phone in the direction of the sound and scream, “Holy shit!”

“Ow… What the fuck?”

You’re breathing heavily, clutching your chest as you turn on the kitchen lights, brightness illuminating the area as you see Chris holding the side of his head.

“Jesus Christ, Chris! You almost gave me a fucking heart attack!”

Chris rubs at his head as he looks towards you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Your heartbeat starts to slow down as you roll your eyes.

“What are you even doing here?”

Chris frowns and replies, “Well, you never told me where you were going to be but when I got back to Boston and you weren’t there, I assumed you were coming here.”

You groan silently, crossing your arms over your chest and raising your eyebrows,

“So, London seemed to be very fun.”

Chris shakes his head, looking up at the ceiling, before making eye contact with you, “I didn’t know that’s what the trip was about.”

You chuckle humorlessly, “Really, Chris? Since when do you go on trips, not knowing what they’re about?”

Chris exhales loudly, taking a couple of steps towards you, “I promise that I didn’t know. Megan planned everything and just sent me the info.”

You snort loudly, rolling your eyes. Chris frowns before asking, “What?”

“Megan, Chris? Really? She fucking hates me, of course she would pull a stunt like this.”

Chris frowns again, shaking his head, “What are you talking about? She doesn’t hate you.”

You laugh, this time, actually finding this funny, “Chris, she literally called me a walking disaster.”

Chris struggles to find an answer to that: he knew that Megan used this exact kind of formulation so he couldn’t deny it.

“And you know what? It’s fine. Maybe you really should be dating her instead of me.”

Chris’ face contorts in a mix of hurt and anger, “Why the fuck would you say something like that?”

“Because it’s true, Chris. She’s better for you. She’s actually your age, not a fucking child compared to you. She can give you the things you want from life that I can’t. Maybe it’s better that way.”

“What way?”

You shrug your shoulders, looking at your feet, mumbling, “If we weren’t together.”

Chris scoffs, “You literally have to be kidding me.”

Chris takes large steps, making his way towards you and takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him.

“Y/N, I’ve told you before and I will tell you again. I do not give a shit about your age. And I thought you didn’t either. So, what’s the problem here?”

You bite your bottom lip nervously, “Because what if what Megan said is true? I mean… If people find out that we’re dating, the shit talking would never stop. I can’t do that to you.”

Chris sighs, enveloping you in a hug.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter. None of it matters if we’re not together.”

He lets you go, stroking your cheek, “You’re it for me. There is no one better for me than you. And no one is going to take that away from us. Not you. Not Megan. And certainly not my fans. If they love me as much as they say they do, then they’ll respect you.”

You chuckle slightly, “Chris, I don’t know what kind of fantasy you live in, but in real life, that’s not how things go.”

“Okay, but who cares? There’s two people in this relationship, you and me. Not you, me, Megan and my fans.”

You scoff, mumbling, “Yeah, tell Megan that.”

“I will. The same goes for her. I didn’t know she actually meant those things about you and I’ll tell her that she needs to knock that shit off.”

You sigh, nodding slightly, “Okay.”

“And, baby, I’m sorry.”

You furrow your brows, trying to understand, “I never should have agreed to Megan’s little plan thing. But, most importantly, I should have told you as soon as I knew. It’s just that I kinda owed Lily a favor and she needed this. But it doesn’t erase the fact that I should have been honest with you and I’m sorry I wasn’t.”

You sigh, “I know, it’s okay. I knew this kind of thing could happen when I decided to be with you, and I overreacted a bit so I’m sorry too. I knew it wasn’t true and I should have asked you about it instead of ignoring you. I just… couldn’t let go of the fact that maybe you should be with her.”

Chris shakes his head, “I shouldn’t. And I never will be.”

Chris laughs a bit before continuing, “Sorry, but you’ll have to try harder to get rid of me.”

You laugh loudly, throwing your head back. Looking back at Chris, you smile warmly before hugging him,

“I love you, Chris. Like, a lot.”

Chris chuckles, squeezing you tighter, “I love you too.”

[dongsichenged]

here’s a really comprehensive overview of how things shook down in the c-fandom by reddit user u/visible-following-50 (as of 11pm CDT 8/24/2021)

I wanna provide some C-ent perspective on this:

Overall all accusations concentrate in the period between August 2019 - February 2020

PART 1: Monday 23th 10-11pm The scandal first erupt on Twitter but reached Weibo around 10pm. There were instantly 10+ gossip accounts who were sharing the screenshots with no translation, fresh from Twitter. It took a bit for users on Douban to translate them and reshare them on Weibo. The gossip accounts definitely got tipped off, since they posted about it all at the same time.

Fans tried to look for proof the pictures, the screenshots, the audio and the timeline were fake. Apart from some small fans, most of his big fans asked Lumis to not share unverified debunks... they had previous experience sharing things too early only to find themselves ridiculed, so they pretty much just spend the whole night looking for harder proofs and keeping his trending topic on the entertainment list and not the main one. I am PERSONALLY quite confident, the company knew already what was going at that point. His trending topic never reached the main board... it was the #1 on the ent board for the whole night... people are guessing it was company’s doing...

As for the debunking proofs. I can confidently say, none of the proofs given and shared by small fans were solid proofs. That’s why his big accounts in China never started to share massively those posts. Twitter instead was more vocal in believing them.

1/ Pictures: the finger one is the fishiest one. It looks extremely not like his finger. But the three selfies, no fans managed to find where they come from. The only possible guess they come from leaked Kakaotalk. 2/ Audio: the fans found one part of the audio coming possibly from Bubble, but there’s a slight change in tone and the second part of the audio still is missing from Bubble. People use it as a debunking proof, but we can’t say for sure 3/ Timeline: the alleged nights they spent together did in fact coincide with the nights Lucas was in Seoul, just a very packed agenda. Like August 28th, he just landed in Incheon from Dubai at 5-6pm and supposedly spent the night with her right after. September 9th, he took a flight from Shanghai to Seoul, landed, spent the night with her, the day after directly took a flight to Dallas for SuperM concert. Technically all possible, also technically could be fabricated to match his schedule perfectly as second half of 2019 Lucas schedule was known to everybody due to SuperM and the amount of flights info. Beginning of December he was in China despite her claims. That is the only part we can be 100% it’s not true, since we have receipts of Lucas being in Beijing doing fanmeetings.

As for the gaslighting, asking for money and being rude to her, we have no proof whatsoever, since all the Wechat shared just show Lucas saying I love u and trying to meet up with her.

At this point, 99% of his fandom in China still believed in him and many spent the night not sleeping, to clear his searches, battle with antis and so on. His group mates akgaes also spent the night shitting on him.

PART 2: Tuesday 6pm The whole day went by with Lumis still clearing his searches, with anti inventing new rumors (they shared a dick pick of him quickly proven to be fake) which had Lumis and different members akgaes fight, but nothing big in comparison. After Jalapeño teaser dropped people were excited and we received also info Lucas and Ten have booked flights for China on Sept 10th. Then at 6pm a new girl came out, again, the news instantly shared by 10+ gossip accounts on Weibo, spreading the visibility.

The second girl is a Chinese girl claiming to have been contacted by him after a fansign (she provided receipts of her fansign participation) and supposedly met up in ShengYang. The girl had no pictures just a bunch of screenshots. She claimed they had sex with no protection and him lying saying he hasn’t had sex in a year and similar stuff.

Overall by this time, most of fans still didn’t believe her since she provided no pics and all the Wechat conversation were seen as not strong proofs (they can be easily photoshopped)

PART 3: Wednesday 8pm The third girl posted on her weibo account (with no personal info), the final blow. With pictures.

She supposedly got his contact by sending him a message via airdrop once she found him on Bluetooth during an offline event. They quickly added each other. They “dated” or more correctly they FWB for a period where she asked multiple times whether he was single, but supposedly the timing overlapped with the two previous girls, hence why the third girl decided to expose him, cause she felt cheated.

She accused him of cheating, badmouthing his members (they don’t work enough, one of them stole one of his fashion gig), not liking Keep Running (too much pressure from seniors).

Keep in mind none of the above accusations are found in her shared screenshots, as she said these are part of their conversation while drinking.

She provided 3 pictures: one of him sleeping (which many fans suspect to be a picture of him sleeping on WayV dorm due to matching sofa and Bella’s toy) and two pictures of him with drinks and sigarettes (the fishy part is that his hairstyle doesn’t look like his hairstyle in end of 2019. Edit: it could have been Moonwalk period hair.). While girl #1 selfies could have been Kakaotalk profile pics, these pictures look 1/ not photoshopped 2/ taken without him knowing.

At this point, Lucas big fan accounts broke down... this girl pictures were the final blow. While some fans still finds them fishy and claim it could have been staff selling their pics (which allegedly happened before between staff and sasaeng), after 24 hours of radio silence and continuous rumors, no sleep and constant fighting, his fancafe and his most high profile fans gave up and believed the accusations. Please note his solo stans only believe that he did sleep around, no mentions of badmouthing or his personality.

Lucas’ image among Chinese fans is definitely purer than what Ifans think of him. If Ifans think him being sexually active is nothing strange, for C-fans him sleeping and especially with fans, multiple at once, was too much to handle. Also many felt like at this point, regardless of whether he’s able to disprove the accusations, his image in China is ruined forever. SM not saying anything was too much to handle.

PART 4: Tuesday 10pm onwards.

With the fancafe leaving and many big fans leaving, the rest of Lumis saw this as a sign these big fans knew more than them, had some sort of proof from SM that the allegations were true. Rumors spread like fire among fandom and many fans quit due to fancafe quitting.

Fancafe quitting trended at #3 on Weibo main board, that single Weibo post had over half a million likes.

The rest of the night, Lucas trended with various hashtag, all on main board, between 3 to 15 in terms of positions. The same day a TV presenter was ousted for r*pe.

One of WayV most famous sasaeng shared on Weibo that Lucas does have an habit of flirting back when you send him something via airdrop. This sort of backed the possibility of the third girl story of how she met Lucas.

The rest of the night we still had some small rumors spreading of people saying that he does flirt with fans, he does look like a fuck boy, he was already a player before debut and so on. To be honest, I wouldn’t care about these since they all sound like people jumping on him.

Some WayV and almost all solo fans of the other members started to ask for his removal from the group. Many believe the accusations (since again, after 24 hours no solid debunking has been offered) while some others in any case think his career is done and his image will only tarnish the group.

As you can see, all of this play out very quickly. A bit over 24 hours and we are yet to see any response from SM.

Currently the remaining Chinese Lumis (a new fancafe opened to substitute the old one) are mostly just waiting for some confirmation or debunking from Lucas or the company itself. On Weibo they just basically gave up on digging for more proof themselves (apart form some small individual fans)