#nat talks kendall

[bisluthq]

The best explanation I’ve seen for Kendall’s cucumber technique is that she was just high af and I buy it

No I think she just doesn’t know how to cut a cucumber.

#nat talks kendall

[rosenallies]

h/c scenario prompts 16 “hiding an injury” 13 “broken ribs” and 22 “hurts to breathe” with Sick Au (wild combination I know and I’m sorry 😭)Jane is a daredevil especially when they’re not with Nat and her family. So they do some stupid shit at a party and end up falling and get really hurt. She can’t tell her parents and doesn’t want to bother Nat’s so she just pretends she didn’t injure herself ☹️ but Synthia is obviously no stranger to hiding being in pain and calls her out

Sorry this is late asf <333 but ty for sending this in bestie <3

——

“Jane?” Synthia whispered, passing by her in the hallway, his daughter’s partner avoiding his gaze.

“Hey.”

“Can I talk to you?”

Jane sucked in a breath, unable to hide the wince in her voice. “Yeah, sure,” she croaked, a sinking feeling about what it was about.

He pulled her aside gently, ushering her into the guest bedroom so they could talk privately.

“Are you sick?” He said, cutting to the chase, “you’ve been short of breath lately and you just look like you’re in pain and-and I know what it’s like to hide feeling ill but you deserve to feel better. I can take you to my doctor if you want to, but you’re going to need to tell Natalie, she’d be devastated if anything happened.”

“No-I,” she sighed, lifting up her sweater, revealing large purple bruises spreading along her sides and her ribs, peeking out from underneath her binder. “I got hurt.”

“Oh, Jane, what happened?”

Their face burned with embarrassment. “I-I went to a party and I maybe had a little too much to drink and jumped into a pool. I misjudged how close the step was.”

“Oh god, Jane you could have died,” he breathed, “you could have hit your head.”

“I know, I know. I just-“ tears welled up in her eyes, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Can we tell Nat? She’s gonna want to check you out.”

Jane huffed, damn her doctor wife. “She’s gonna be so disappointed. She didn’t want me going to that party anyway, she thinks my college friends are shitty people and they kind of are but I just -sometimes it scares me how grown up we all are. I mean, I love my life and I love Natalie but sometimes I miss being younger before we had all these responsibilities.”

Synthia nodded along. “I understand, but none of that is worth getting you hurt over. I was the same way when I first got sick, I just physically couldn’t do anything about it because I was stuck in bed all the time. But I really think you should tell Natalie.”

“Okay,” Jane whispered, hanging her head and trying not to cry. Natalie’s disapproval would likely hurt 10x more than her injuries.

“One more thing though,” Synthia said, Jane looking up, “I know you like to wear it, but you really shouldn’t be wearing your binder right now. It’s got to be making it so much worse.”

“Oh I- yeah, it is.”

Squeezing her hand, Synthia smiled sympathetically. “Let’s go talk to Nat and she can help you take it off, okay? She’s a doctor, she has gentle hands.”

If Jane was feeling like herself she would have made a crude joke to herself in her head, face reddened as she tried not to laugh, but her mind didn’t even go there, she only thought about the disappointment on her wife’s face when she tells her.

As well as he could, Synthia helped Jane to the kitchen where Kendall and Natalie were engrossed in a card game, Gia laughing along as they played, poking fun at one another.

The energy changed when Synthia and Jane walked in, the three at the table looking up at them with concern.

“Dad, are you okay?” Natalie asked, crossing the kitchen to him, placing a hand on his bony back, “do you need anything?”

“Um, actually,” Jane spoke up, anxiety radiating off her, “can you-um, can you check me out, Nat? I, uh, kinda got hurt.”

Natalie’s eyes went wide. “What happened? Did you trip in the bathroom?” She looked to her parents, “I’ve been begging you guys to please fix that uneven tile in the bathroom! It’s dangerous!”

“No, Natalie,” Jane said, shaking her head, “can we please go to the guest bedroom?”

Nerves flared in Natalie’s belly as she nodded, following Jane slowly down the hallway. She sat on the bed beside Jane and grabbed her hand. “What happened?”

Jane took a shaky breath, lifting up her sweater to show her all the bruising that crept down her chest and side.

“Oh god,baby, what happened? You probably have a broken rib or two, has it been hurting to breathe?”

“Yeah, kind of,” she admitted.

Looking closely at some of the bruises, Natalie noticed they were yellowing around the edges, meaning they weren’t fresh. “Jane, when did this happen? Some of these are already yellowing.”

Jane stared at her hands in her lap, fiddling with her rings. “Last week, at the party. I know you said my college friends are no good, but I just-I wanted to go and I’m sorry I let them convince me to jump in the pool, it was stupid. Your dad was right I could have died and-and-“

“Hey,” Natalie interrupted, “I’m not mad. I’m just worried about you being hurt. How come you didn’t tell me? You’ve been in pain for a week and I didn’t even know!”

Guilt swirled in Jane’s chest, her wife’s voice so soft and hurt. She knew if she looked at her there’d be tears in those brown eyes. “I didn’t want you to be angry with me.”

“God, baby, I would never be angry at you for being hurt. Ever.”

Jane nodded, wiping her own tears that spilled hot down her cheeks. “Okay.”

“Let’s get you home, baby, and I’ll take care of you, okay? I’ll write you a prescription for some pain meds and we can pick it up on the way home. And Janey, I hate to say it, but doctor’s orders, you need to not wear your binder for a while.”

“I know, that’s what your dad said. Can you help?”

“Yeah, c’mere.”

Natalie helped her take off her sweater, so gentle and tender, though she gasped softly when she saw how banged up Jane really was. “Oh honey,” she cooed, heart dropping at the sight of her.

She tutted softly as she helped her take off her binder, even gentler than before. Jane instinctively went to cover her chest, but Natalie stopped her, taking off her own oversized crewneck and handing it to Jane. “Here, this should be big enough to cover you. You’re gonna need to wear looser stuff for a while.”

Grateful, Jane slipped it on, Natalie doing the same with the sweater Jane had on.

“There,” Natalie smiled softly, “ready to head home?”

“Yeah, oh and Nat? Thanks for not being upset with me, I know it was a stupid thing to do.”

Natalie smiled, helping her partner off the edge of the bed, cupping her face in her hands. “It was, but we can joke about that when you’re feeling all better, okay?”

If she wasn’t in such pain, Jane would have tackled Natalie to the bed with kisses, but she settled with a short peck on the lips, one that required little movement. “I love you.”

Natalie squeezed her hand, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I love you too.”

#sick verse #prompt request

[pr0blemd0g]

Nat talking about Succession on live yesterday. Of course he’s a Kendall girlie 

#n #video #nat wolff #succession #do you think he and andrew have watched together

[usuallydeepcoffee]

Mr. Rogers and Succession? 👀👀

I mean, you have to admit that the juxtaposition of Steve, the humble son of an immigrant, a guy who owned one pair of (too-big) nice shoes, and the Roys, whose entire shoe rack is probably worth more than the GDP of a small country, would be hilarious.

There are two, scenarios I humbly offer:

Steve in the Roys' world:

(non-powered AU), where Steve is the young, hot partner of a very rich New York billionaire genius (Howard or Tony, take your pick). He's into arts and mostly involved in charity work, so the Roys figure he's just another Willa, but then he turns out to be a pretty good strategist.

Lol, I imagine the Roys would be embarrassing themselves trying to court the Starks, like they did with the Pierces.

(also I just love imagining Steve and Willa gagging anyone who comes near them with some quip about them being gold diggers. Two queens discussing how to maximize their joint slay and all)

2. The Roys in the mcu:

I mean. Imagine the narrative ATN would pull out their asses once it is confirmed that Captain America is actually WWII Steve Rogers. About Steve being a true patriot, standing for the Good Conservative American Values™. The way they'd be trying to get an exclusive interview post-Chitauri attack.

Again they'd probably try to court him because even though he doesn't have money (not like they do), he still has status and influence just by being an American symbol.

(that and they'd probably need his permission to make content about Captain America. Maybe even a ride named after him in their parks)

Lol. Logan would try to imply that they have soooo much in common, both immigrants, both hard workers. Steve has a good sixth sense tho, so he probably takes one look at him and turns his heel.

The cringe from Kendall would make me want to curl up and die. "Yeah man, I could uh, hook you up with some uh, modern pieces. Rothko, Mondrian. I have a couple in my pad in Brooklyn, I could uh, give you one. For free of course. Consider it uh, a thank you for your service"

Roman, oh boy. Can't even think about all the harassment innuendos he would throw Steve's way. Comments about him having all of David's Michelangelo's proportions (and consequently wondering about his dick).

Shiv is probably the one who almost fools Steve into believing she's the most normal but then says something in a terribly classist way and down the DNI list she goes as well.

Con becomes a WWII history buff for the occasion and talks about idk, Goebbels' pubes or something equally disgusting he won at an auction online.

Steve calls Nat and begs her to come and get him with the excuse of an Avenger-related emergency.

And when that inevitably fails, the Roys start a smear campaign against Steve: Captain America getting chummy with ex-Russian spy Natasha Romanoff. Workplace affair or treason?

They probably pop off a couple of bottles when Steve becomes a fugitive.

And then once Sam shows up with the shield and the suit. Oh my god. That might be what actually kills Logan Roy in that verse.

#anon #lmao if steve ever met the roy kids he'd look at t0ny and be like #oh. that explains so much #mcu/succession crossover #lmao imagine the poor roys not being able to take their chopper and leave NY in the middle of the chitauri attack #poor guys #steve rogers

[kendallroysmethpipe]

⭐ ur literally so fun and so niceys and I love talking to u and seeing your art. You and Kendall are canon soulmates fr I love being succession shipper buddies ♡♡

🥹 NAT I LOVE U UR SO SWEET... 🩷🩷🩷🩷

#answers

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#Download silverlight for mac

[watchmegetobsessed]

Don’t Worry - Harry Styles

a/n: i’m so excited about this!!! this fic is my take on the song Don’t Worry by The 1975 for @harrystylescherry ‘s Playlist fic challenge! it took me a lot longer to finish this one, mostly because i chose to write about a topic that’s painfully close to my heart and life and i hope to help those of you who are struggling with similar problems. it’s a touchy subject and i really hope i can at least help just for a little by putting this piece out! also, huge thanks to Nat for this challenge and i can’t wait to read all the other fics!!

warning: eating disorder, lots of self-hatred but even more fluff and love!

word count: 3.8k

masterlist

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip a little harder than they should, it’s starting to feel painful but you don’t even realize. You’re way too fixated on the Instagram post in front of you, swiping through the same four pictures over and over again, crippling anxiety crawling up your spine, clouding your every thought.

Oh how you wish you could say that you’re not the jealous type. Well, in a way, you are not. You don’t think your boyfriend would ever cheat on you or leave you, that’s just not him as a person. Your jealousy roots in your insecurities about your body and it creates more of a confusion in your head about why Harry, your boyfriend of three years is really dating you when he could have anyone, any model or super gorgeous singer, actress out there, yet he settled for… you.

Your thumb swipes across the screen again as you keep staring at the bikini photos Kendall Jenner has recently posted. She is stunning, the perfect model type with her long legs, skinny torso and snatched waist. Hell, she could make you question your sexuality on other days even, but today she is feeding your burning insecurities.

The thought that at one point in life, your boyfriend was with her makes you feel sick, because you are simply nothing like her. In every sense, you are what others like to call curvy, however you often use other terms, some not too nice ones on your worse days. Your hips are wide, holding quite some meat on them, your full thighs never heard of such thing as thigh gaps, not even when you were a kid. Your tummy brings you a headache sometimes when you want to wear something tight, the urge to hide it stronger than your fashion sense. It’s been ages since you last dared to step out of the house without a bra on, your full breasts always need the support if you don’t want them to sit a little lower on your chest than what you prefer. There are rolls, extra skin, stretch marks and all that jazz on your body and has been for a long time. No model looks like this and you are more than aware of that. But if your boyfriend can get any of them, why did he settle for you?

Tears are threatening to roll down your cheeks when you finally close the app and stop staring at Kendall’s perfect body. You ball your hands to stop them from shaking as you make your way to the bathroom in need of some freshening up. The cold water in your face feels nice, but the moment your eyes fall on your reflection you almost cringe at your own sight, as if it’s a reminder of everything you thought about in the past hour.

What is Harry doing with someone like me? The question keeps playing in your head on repeat and you wish you had a relevant answer, but your tainted thoughts keep bringing you back to the same point: He surely will realize it himself and leave me.

You try your best to shake it all off your mind, but it’s not easy. Sitting at the dining table you busy yourself with some work you brought home, hoping the files will keep your wandering thoughts at bay, however the attempt is not quite successful. And then you hear the front door open and close, followed by Harry’s sweet greeting.

“I’m home, baby!” he calls out and you can tell he is in a great mood just from his voice. You force your best fake smile to your lips, not wanting to ruin his mood with your petty party. He walks in, eyes falling on your sitting figure at the table and though you don’t know it, his heart flutters, like always, even after three years together.

Harry is obsessed with you, to say the least. Every little thing about you fascinates him, he loves everything about you, inside and out, just the way you are and he vowed to never stop telling you how much he adorns you.

“Hey there, wha’cha doin’?” he asks, kissing into your hair as he scans over the papers on the table.

“Oh, just… some extra work,” you shrug, chewing on your bottom lip again, the skin is about to break soon for sure.

“Baby, you work too much. Take some time off,” he tells you, shuffling around before he disappears in the bedroom for a moment before reappearing. “Fancy taking a bath with me?” he offers with a cheeky smile.

Bath, for that you’d have to be completely naked in front of him. That cannot happen in this state of mind.

“Um, I want to finish this. Maybe next time,” you tell him with a faint smile.

“You sure? I could massage your shoulders the way you like it so much, we could try that new bath salt we bought.”

“I really want to get this done, H. You just go and enjoy your bath,” you insist, the stern voice catches him a little by surprise.

“Everything alright baby?” His eyebrows pull together as he watches you from across the room.

“Mm, everything is fine. Just… working,” you tell him, eyes on the papers in front of you, pretending like you’re reading the lines, but in reality you have absolutely no idea what the words are saying. You hear him mumble a soft alright before he disappears again, leaving you alone.

A shaky breath leaves your trembling lips once you hear the water running in the bathroom. You bury your face in your palms, feeling so defeated and lost, the only thing that would comfort you would be Harry, but he cannot know what’s been going on in your head. He would never understand the struggle.

These thoughts usually only last for a few days. You always manage to forget about them eventually and return to normality, but not this time. Days turn into weeks and you find yourself sinking deeper into the hole you created for yourself. It starts to effect more parts of your life too. You’re having a hard time sleeping, always waking up several times during the night and sometimes you don’t even fall back asleep after one point. You lose your appetite, your mind tells you that you don’t need the nutritious food, that you need to lose the fat because that’s the only way you can keep Harry. You stop wearing your favorite clothes, always opt for the looser ones that hide every inch of your body and spend way too much time zoned out. You keep catching yourself completely lost in your thoughts during the day, thinking about how Harry might be comparing you to his exes every time he sees you, especially naked.

It’s been long since the last time you were intimate with Harry and you feel so bad for it, but you haven’t been able to bring yourself to bare your body in front of him. You always blew him off with some lame excuse and though there’s a chance he didn’t catch onto whatever was going on, now you know he is suspicious.

And you’re right. Harry notices every little thing, all the changes you’ve been going through. How you leave half your plate uneaten at dinner or how he finds you lying awake next to him in the middle of the night. He also notices how your favorite dresses and shirts remain untouched through the weeks even though you always wear them whenever you have the chance. Instead, he only sees you in big hoodies and loose pants, hiding the delicious curves of your body. But what truly pains him is how you’ve been ignoring all his tries to get close to you, the way you move away from his touch.

The last straw however happens on a Friday afternoon. You are sitting on the couch, mindlessly clicking through Netflix on the TV, trying to find something to watch when Harry is roaming through the cabinets in the bathroom, looking for the lotion he only uses when his skin feels extremely dry. He is going through every drawer and shelf, not finding what he is looking for, but then something odd catches his attention. Some weird named pills are sitting at the back of one of the shelves, hidden behind your perfumes so he hasn’t noticed it, but as he takes it out to have a better look at them, he almost throws them across the room. He has heard of similar pills before, they do more harm than help in weightloss, ruining your digestive system so badly you can actually get way more serious health problems if you use them too long. He frantically tears the box open and see that one third of the pills are gone, meaning that you’ve been taking them for a little while now behind his back.

With the box in his hand, he marches out to the living room where you are still and holding the pills up, he needs everything in him not to flip immediately.

“What the fuck are these?” he grits through his teeth. Your breath gets caught in your throat, he was never supposed to find those, but the cat’s out of the bad and now you can’t think of anything to bring up to your defense, knowing well he very much does not approve these kind of stuff.

“They are… I’m doing a cleanse,” you say, but there’s no use to lie.

“Drinking juice is for cleansing, this shit ruins your body,” he spats, throwing the box to the couch and you bite into your bottom lip, feeling the tears building up already. “Why would you even think about taking these?”

“Why?” you chuckle bitterly, your vision blurry from the tears. “Oh come on, don’t be so oblivious.”

“Y/N, these stuff are dangerous!” his anger turns into despair and concern as he sits beside you on the couch. “Baby, why did you take them?”

“Because I’m desperate, Harry!” you snap at him, the hot tears running down your cheeks. “You have no idea what I go through every fucking day!”

“Then talk to me! I want to know everything, I want to help you!” he pleads, reaching for your hand but you move away from him. “Please talk to me, baby!”

“So you can feed me lies? I’m not naïve, Harry,” you shake your head vigorously.

“What are you talking about?”

“Me! I’m talking about… this,” you growl gesturing at yourself. Harry runs his gaze down your body, but he still can’t figure out what this is about. You look beautiful, you always do in his eyes, he has no idea what the matter is. “I’m not one of your exes and all those models you’ve been rumored to date, Harry.”

“Okay and why is that relevant?”

“Because how am I the right person for someone like you? I’m not skinny, I’m not pretty and I’ll probably never be anything like the girls you dated. Why are you even wasting your time on me?”

By the time you get to the end, your tears are flooding and it breaks Harry’s heart to see you like this. Feeling so unworthy when in his eyes, you deserve everything. You’re perfect.

“I’m not wasting anything on you, baby. Why do you even want to look like them? I love every inch of your beautiful body!”

You flinch at his words. Deep down you know he means them, but there’s this barricade on your mind that tells you he is not serious, that he is only saying those things because he feels like he has to say them, not because he means them. That evil little voice in your head keeps telling you not to believe anything he says.

How could he love your body? How could a man like him be okay with someone like you? He doesn’t want to be with you. He’ll realize it and leave you!

You wish you could turn it off, you wish there was a switch that would shut out all these thoughts, but they just keep coming and coming. Harry watches you break right in front of his eyes and he has no idea what to do, panic is setting in. He feels like a failure that he let you reach this point.

“Baby, I fucking love you. Everything about you. Please don’t feel like you have to change for me. I love you no matter what, I think you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. If you want to change, do it because you want to do it for yourself! You don’t have to change for me!”

He is practically begging, desperate to get you to understand that you’re perfect to him just the way you are, that he is in love with every inch of your beautiful body. He reaches out to your face again and though you move away again and it pains him so much, he still goes through with the action and cups your face in his hand. His clammy palm meets your wet cheek as he turns your head so he can look into your eyes, but you are relentlessly keeping your gaze focused anywhere but him.

You can’t bear looking at him or yourself, you just want to disappear, vanish into nothing, existence right now feels like just too much.

“Love, please look at me,” he quietly begs and you shake your head no. “Please, let me see those beautiful eyes I love so much.”

You wince at his words and try to turn your head away, but he cups the other side of your face with his other hand, keeping it in place. Your eyes are wired shut, you just can’t look at him, it would break you.

Harry is kneeling next to the couch now where you are curled up, your arms wrapped around your knees as you try to hide yourself. You feel so lost, so miserable and you wish he didn’t see you like this.

“I can’t, Harry. I can’t,” you tell him shaking your head vigorously. Part of you feels so stupid for acting like this, but you just can’t help it. It’s not you anymore who is in charge of your mind and actions, you feel more like just a witness who sees herself from the outside and she doesn’t like what she sees, not even a bit.

Harry pushes himself up from the ground and takes the thick blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over you as he shimmies himself next to you, arms wrapping around your frame as he pulls you to his chest, covering you with the warm blanket as if it was some kind of shield from the world and that’s exactly what you need. A hiding spot.

You let him pull you to him, face buried into his chest as you sob into his shirt, his strong arms holding you so tight, you feel like nothing can hurt you with his hold around you.

“I love you, baby. I really do. And when I tell you I find you gorgeous and that how pretty I think you are, that’s the truth. I love everything about you. Fell in love with you the first time I saw you and I’m not even joking. Please don’t ever think that you have to change for me.”

“But I can’t stop thinking about how I’m so different from the people you’ve dated,” you whimper shaking your head. His hands squeeze your upper arm as he kisses the crown of your head.

“Different is not bad, baby. I didn’t date my previous girlfriends because they looked the way they did. If I’m thinking about it, I should feel a little offended you think I’m so shallow to care about these stuff,” he jokes, earning a faint huff that’s somewhat a laugh from you.

“I just think that you’re not blind.”

“That is correct,” he chuckles. “I’m not blind, that’s why I find you so incredibly sexy.”

“I really don’t see how you can use the word sexy to describe me,” you mumble closing your eyes as a headache is starting to form from how hard you were crying just a minute ago.

“What do you think there is on you that I shouldn’t find attractive?” he prompts the question in all seriousness.

“Please don’t get me started because we’ll never get to the end of the list,” you huff bitterly. It might have come out as a joke but there’s just plenty of the truth behind your words.

“No, seriously. Tell me what you think I don’t find attractive on you,” he nags and you give up with a sigh.

“Okay, I… I have fat rolls on my stomach,” you start off with the first thing that’s on your mind.

“Everyone has them.”

“But not as big as mine. Yours aren’t as big as mine.”

“So what? I love your tummy. It’s soft, keeps your organs safe, especially the ones that will help us start a family at one point. For me, your tummy means that you are enjoying the wonderful foods of the world, that you are well and have a great appetite. I fucking hate it when girls are just poking around their salads, complaining about calories and all that stuff. Do you have any idea how much I enjoy watching you eat? I think it might be a fetish at this point,” he chuckles, making you laugh as you hide your face in his chest.

“Please don’t say that.”

“Why? I love it when you enjoy the food, I love trying new food with you, cooking with you, see you satisfied when you’re full, you have no idea how happy that makes me.”

“Really?” you ask in a whisper.

“Absolutely. I love your tummy, it’s just even more of you to love on,” he hums kissing the top of your head. “Okay, what’s next?”

“I have so many stretch marks,” you whine with a scowl. “They are everywhere, on my thighs, my ass, my stomach, fucking everywhere!”

“I literally have nothing else to say than… I couldn’t care less. Honestly, most people have them, baby. It’s natural, your body is changing, it’s just trying to keep up with the pace. But you know what I’m looking forward to?”

“What?”

“I can’t wait till you have marks from pregnancy, Love,” he huffs dreamily and you can’t help, but smile at his words. “Those marks will be a reminder to me how much you’ve gone through for our family. I think those are just so wonderful.”

“Why are you linking everything with having babies?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks chuckling. “Because I can’t wait to have babies with you. I can’t wait to see you with a big belly, so I can love on you, take care of you and that our babies, I’m so excited for that.”

“You want all of that… with me?”

“Have I not made it clear to you?” he asks, looking down at you and moving your head your eyes finally meet his. “I’m not just saying all those things for nothing, Love. I see my future with you.”

Closing your eyes you let his words sink in and for the first time in a while, your mind is not trying to convince you that he is not telling you the truth.

“Okay, next,” he mumbles, his fingers dancing up and down your arm as he holds you tight.

“My boobs are weird,” you say out loud, cringing at your own words. You hate talking about this.

“Excuse me? What’s wrong with my girls?” he gasps, making you laugh.

“They are not as round as I would want them to be, a little saggy because of the weight gaining.”

“But they are boobs,” he points out, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“Yeah?”

“Okay, so that’s all that matters. Boobs are great, nothing else matters. Men are simple, baby.”

“I can’t believe you,” you laugh swatting his chest playfully.

“What? I mean it! Do you think I think about all that stuff when I see your boobs? My mind goes: Oh my God, boobs! And that’s it. I just get excited to see your tits.”

“You are such a pig,” you laugh, snuggling closer to his side.

“Are you shaming me for my preferences now?”

“Your preferences?”

“Yeah, you are my preference,” he remarks smugly, kissing into your hair again. “I literally don’t know how to say it differently, and I’m sorry for being so vulgar in advance…”

“Oh God,” you mumble, already fearing what he’s going to say.

“But you have nothing to worry about until you see my dick getting hard at the sight of you.”

“That was highly inappropriate.”

“Yeah, but it’s true. I find you sexy and there’s evidence. I can’t really hide it,” he chuckles and when you look up at him you see a dirty, twisted smirk on his pink lips. “Please don’t ever doubt any of my feelings for you, alright?” he asks in a more serious tone. “And if you feel like this again, I want you to tell me. Those pills and bottling it up inside you don’t help. I don’t want you to risk your health just because you have doubts about me. I love you, and when I say that I mean that I love all of you. Everything.”

“Okay,” you answer in a faint whisper.

“Don’t just say okay because you want me to get out of your hair. Promise me that you won’t keep it to yourself. I want to help you, I want to be there for you like you are always there for me.”

“I promise,” you nod, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip.

“Alright. Have you eaten today?” he softly asks and you fear to give him an answer, because you haven’t been able to push anything else down than just your morning coffee. “Okay, then let me make you something.” “I don’t… I’m not hungry…” you quietly tell him.

“Mhm, then I’ll make something for myself and being the romantic boyfriend that I am, I’m gonna share it with my lovely girlfriend as a cute gesture,” he says, rephrasing what he said earlier. You don’t argue with him, just let him slip out of your hold and go to the kitchen to make something for the two of you.

It’s a tiny step on a lifelong journey and you know that. You know that your feelings and opinion about yourself won’t change from one day to the other, but you slowly start to accept it. You have a lot ahead of you, the road might get bumpy sometimes and maybe other times you’ll have to take a few steps back. But at the end, you know it’s all going to be alright, because you will never be alone. Harry will be your greatest support through it all and now you can finally see that.

Don’t Worry - The 1975

When you're in love but you don't know what to do with it When blackness hangs overhead like a cloud

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through

When you wake up and you don't know what day it is When the pain flows through your heart and your bones

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through

When you feel no one knows just what you're goin' through When your insides feel much colder than snow

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' Oh, don't worry, darlin' Don't worry, darlin' I'll always love you You

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#playlistficchallenge #harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff

[frostedfaves]

Repercussions (14)

Masterlist 

Pairing: dark!Natasha Romanoff x dark!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: The day to escape has come, and you push your feelings aside to get the job done.

Warnings: dark themes, brief injury mention

A/N: I’m planning on making part 15 the ending (which feels crazy to say!!), but if it turns out to be outrageously long, I’ll split it into two parts. also the book I mentioned is by Aleatha Romig, and I think I may order it to read! it seems like it’s much darker than this story, so please be warned of that if you also decide to give it a chance! anyway, can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

Previous part

-

You blinked slowly as you were unwillingly brought to consciousness by the sound of your iPad ringing again. For a moment you sat there, surprising yourself when tears filled your eyes. Sure, you’d had some good moments with your girlfriends despite all the manipulation, but were you really going to miss being held captive?

Deciding not to debate the subject with yourself, you quickly wiped your eyes before rolling over to answer the Facetime call. You were met with the connecting screen and then their beaming faces replaced yours, and a sleepy smile was painted on your features as you realized they were also lying in bed.

“You sure don’t let a girl sleep in, huh?” you teased in a raspy tone, clearing your throat immediately.

“Sorry!” Wanda laughed. “We just wanted to see you before we went to sleep.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Natasha interjected with a frown. “You sound different.”

“I’m fine, just need some water.” You stood with the iPad in your hand, placing it on the bed for a moment while you slipped your robe on. “I don’t know if you remember, but the two of you had me screaming last night.”

“No, we remember very well.”

“Hi, Wesley!” Wanda called as he came into view after pulling the sheets up higher over herself and Natasha.

“Oh, hey guys!”

You handed the device over to him as you walked around him to get water from the fridge, smiling as you overheard his question about the trip and your girlfriends’ enthusiastic responses. Part of you wished this was normal, that your cousin was just visiting while they were out of town and not playing the double role of babysitter for them and partner in crime for you, but you shook the thought away as you were handed the iPad again.

“Good news, printsessa. We should be home in three days instead of five,” Natasha told you with a grin and you gasped.

“Wow, really? That’s amazing! Although I wouldn’t mind if you could come sooner, because I’m getting kind of bored with Wes.” Your sigh turned into laughter as he playfully shoved you.

“Be nice, baby,” Wanda teased with a giggle that was quickly followed by a yawn. “Alright, get some breakfast and we’ll get some sleep.”

“Okay! Text me when you wake up.”

“Of course, printsessa. We love you.”

“Love you too,” you offered with a smile and wave, releasing a deep breath when the call ended.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you answered through another sigh. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re actually falling in love with them, aren’t you?”

“Probably.” You dropped the iPad on the table and stepped back to lean against the sink. “But it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m not backing out.”

“As long as you’re sure.” He hands you a plate of pancakes with a sympathetic smile. “I talked to Kendall and the safe house is all set up, just waiting for our arrival. Also wrote down all my contacts and erased everything from my phone and trashed it.”

“We can pack the food after I have a shower,” you added after swallowing a bite of food. “That’ll give them time to fall asleep. Then we can put everything in the car and get the security system disarmed.”

“I’m surprised you’re able to eat right now. I know how nervous you are about this going well.”

You paused with another forkful of pancakes held to your lips, simply shrugging in response. “Turns out I’m a pretty good actress.”

-

As soon as you were dressed you ducked into a camera free zone, checking your device and sighing in relief when you heard their light snores. You wasted no time in making sure you weren’t missing anything in your bag and tucked your burner phone in your pocket as you made your way downstairs.

“They’re asleep,” you announced as you entered the kitchen, stepping over to the counter where Wesley was sorting food into another bag.

“Okay, I’m almost done. I’m only packing snacks from the pantry. We’ll just have to wait until we’re done driving to have a meal. I have bottled water in the car.”

The two of you worked quickly to grab what you could and placed the food and your own personal bags into the backseat before coming back inside and heading to the basement. Wesley picked the lock of the security room and led you inside, and your mouths fell open at the sight. It was bigger than expected, one area of the room dedicated to surveillance of the house and surrounding land, and the other part more of an office area used for mission related things.

Once you’d gotten into the security system, a password protected screen popped up and you took a moment to really think about what it could possibly be. Your mind raced back to the first meeting, first date and any other first that followed, trying not to linger too long on the happier moments.

“What do you think it is?” Wesley finally questioned after a minute of silence.

“Try ‘consequences’.”

A mixture of pride and nausea stirred inside you when you were immediately granted access, but you focused on disabling the security system, jumping to your feet when the two minute timer started. You dropped the tracker on the table before you ran out and got into the car, driving through the gate mere seconds before it began to close. Wesley pulled over to change the license plates once you were a safe enough distance away from the house, and then you were on your way to your new safe home, deep in the middle of Nebraska.

“I have a question,” Wesley broke the silence an hour later, and you turned away from the road to give him your attention. “How did you know the password?”

“It’s the name of the book Natasha was holding when she asked me out. The main character meets a man after work that takes her out to dinner and then kidnaps her, and I don’t know if she knew that when she picked it up or if the summary alone gave her the idea but…It’s just so fucking similar to what they put me through and I just--”

A shiver rippled through you as you allowed your anxiety to take over for a moment, and Wesley was quick to grab your trembling hand in his.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s over now,” he assured you calmly and you exhaled a shuddering breath as you closed your eyes.

“I really hope you’re right.”

-

On the other side of the world, Natasha and Wanda were just waking up from their night of slumber, and Wanda was quick to grab her phone and text you while the woman beside her stretched and yawned.

“What are you up to?”

“Just letting printsessa know we’re awake now.” Wanda put the phone down with a sigh. “Is it bad that I want to retire soon just so I can go back to waking up next to her everyday?”

“Not at all,” Natasha chuckled lightly, running her palm along her bare spine. “The last mission I went on alone, I could barely sleep. It felt like a piece of me was missing.”

“Heading out in half an hour!”

The two women faced each other as Steve’s voice came through the door, playfully rolling their eyes and sharing knowing smiles as they begrudgingly climbed out of bed.

Unfortunately for them, they didn’t return to their room again until nearly midnight, midafternoon for you, after just barely escaping the base they infiltrated and making tons of detours to ensure they weren’t followed to the safe house. Once everyone’s injuries were tended to, Natasha and Wanda broke away to shower and collapse onto the bed once they were done.

“Tash,” Wanda began, lifting her head to reveal a concerned expression. “Printsessa didn’t text back. She didn’t even open the message.”

“What?” 

Natasha comes closer to take the phone, checking for herself and feeling a panic rise in her chest immediately. She quickly switched over the check the live camera footage, and a mix between fear and anger swirled around inside her when she didn’t spot you or Wesley in any of the rooms.

“Fuck!”

“Nat, what’s going on?” Clint questions as he stops in the doorway, noticing the tears beginning to spill down Wanda’s cheeks.

“Get in here and close the door. We have a problem.”

-

Tags: @littlegasps @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @nat-km-mh @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @cherrieloco @seventeen0 @creepingwolfberry @emilyprentisswife @bebe404 @becka107 @fayhar @messuhp @mjaudrey @sxphiaswitch @muted-stoneheart @its-a-long-way-to-ba-sing-se @wannabe-fic-reader @trikruismybitch @beforeoursecrets @cosmicbrownies7 @just-a-normalpersons @multi-images @want-to-watch-it-burn @stop-drop-and-drumroll @witchxaf @natashadeservedmore @haiiiloooe2 @darkangelxoxo @sakurat123 

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #dark!natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #dark!wandanat x reader #wandanat x reader #dark!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x fem! reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #black widow x reader #black widow #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #avengers #the avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x fem!reader #avengers fanfic #avengers imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x reader

[rosenallies]

I feel like we have a lot of Nat and Synth together content but could we get some Nat and Kendall and Nat and Gi?

Like a prompt where Nat is talking to Kendall about her problems at school. Or one where Gi takes Nat to a haunted house or something? I think it would be so cute!

I love nat <333 fr

——

“Daddy?” Natalie called softly, hovering shyly by the doorway of the home office where Kendall found himself hunched over his computer answering emails.

He looked up at the little girl, eyebrows pulling together with concern when he noticed, even from afar, that her expression looked anything but happy.

“Come here, baby.”

She made her way over to him, wordlessly climbing into his lap, sighing as she rested her head against his chest.

“What’s the matter, sweet pea? Did something happen at school?”

Natalie shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess,” she trailed off, fiddling with the gold band on his finger, the one he shared with her dada and noni.

“You guess? Sounds like a yes to me. Do you wanna talk about it?”

She looked up at him, big brown eyes watery and threatening to spill over. “Does it make me weird that I have 3 parents?”

“What? Of course not! Did someone tell you that?”

“Kinda,” she admitted barely above a whisper.

Sighing, Kendall tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Baby, there are all kinds of different families. Sometimes someone might have 2 moms or 2 dads, or a mom and a dad, and some kids only have one. Sometimes kids are even raised by other family members. That doesn’t make any one family better than the other. You have 3 people loving and looking after you.”

“I know all that,” she hesitated, biting her lip, “at first she said I was weird for having 3 parents but-but then she said it made more sense because dada will probably-“

“Oh, Nat,” he cooed, trying to hold back his own tears. He didn’t need for her to finish her sentence to know where it was going, “did you talk to your teacher? That’s not an okay thing for someone to say to you.”

“I didn’t want to.”

Kendall saw so much of himself as a child in her, the way she was fiercely independent, never wanting to ask for help from anyone. “That’s okay, baby, you let me handle it, okay?”

Although nerves twisted in her stomach, she agreed. “Okay. I don’t want anyone to get in trouble though. I know she only said it because she doesn’t understand.”

Sometimes Natalie was too kind for her own good, a quality inherited from Synthia for sure. She inherited little bits and pieces of each of them, making her into a smart and unique young girl, one that Kendall couldn’t be more proud of.

“I know, honey, but sometimes words have consequences, even if you don’t fully understand what you’re saying.”

“Like that time I said ‘fuck’?”

“Hey,” Kendall warned playfully, poking her side to make her giggle, “just like that, but now you know it’s a bad word so no excuses.

“Sorry, daddy,” she laughed, hugging him tight, “I love you.”

“I love you too. What do you say tomorrow we have a mental health day and play hooky? Maybe if dada’s feeling okay we can go to the zoo? Or the aquarium?”

Natalie’s eyes lit up at the mention of the aquarium. “Yes, please! I wanna go to the aquarium and see the dolphins!”

“Okay, baby, sounds like a plan.”

She clapped her hands together, suddenly full of smiles. “Yay! Thank you daddy!”

#prompt request #sick verse

[thedarkoutside]

The 2021 list

Everything in quotes “” have no artist details or no info could be found when going through the emails. these are probably part of an archive .zip / .rar  

If you identify these titles as yours, let me know.  If there are typos ( more than likely)  again, let me know. 

[  some names seem to have been removed by the far too efficient text file alphabetical sorting thingy.  ] "2021 07 28" "2021 May 19" "abandoned4" "brief theme for ending things" "buddhaone" "build 3" "delprado hotel" "dissolved metal salts that coat your lips with a bitter film" "Dorv 2" "dying" "Encounter TK1" "enddub.blk" "Evangelica Church Group Birmingham" "experiments 5" "first breath comma second breath" "Foghorns Rough" "Frequency Scanning" "Gurenda" "hello 2&3" "indulgent overtones" "intro" "jen edit" "lonely waits" "lotafun 21" "nextex it" "no, I think someone is recording us" "omniglot" "premix rough" "prince earl" "Ratchets 7" "render navina" "see the sun" "skipping new" "soundscape" "soundtrack" "TDO5" "Theme from Public Transport" "TMC-06" "track 01" "turbu" "unmastered" "wavestation" "zoom016" 1 of 100 1976 8 Track Dogma A Farewell to Hexes Accursed Volts Ada Stockwell & Lippy Kid Adi Carter Adjectivals Afrotull Aldo Rox AM Web Amongst the Pigeons Andrea Careddu Andrew Ramsey Andy Blip Andy McDade Another Dead Weirdo Antoni Maiovvi AOTCI Apalusa Apta Arvik Torrensen Assassin of Sound Audio Obscura Aula Deft University of Technology Autoflag Autumna Ave Grave Awful Collider baze.djunkiii Bazrah Ben Tye Bernard Grancher Betamax Warriors Bipolar Explorer Bit Cloudy Blaiddwyn Bless This Machine Blood Everywhere BMH Boodlam British Detail Calico Jack Capricornio Cevan Charlie & Lol1 Chelidon Frame CLAIR Claro Correcto Co-Pilot Course Correct Cowboy Flying Saucer Cuts D. McCann D. Taylor Daft Danny Carnage Darren Hannant Datassette David McNicol Desert Petunia dESUS DFF Sound System Ditchburn Band Distant Animals Dog in the Snow [dOOM] dESUS Drew Five Dundass Dusty Ohms Earthborn Visions Earthshine Eat the Sun Ed Spess Eduards Ozoliņš Egone El Ghou Electric Talk Electroaurora Elizabeth Joan Kelly Elli Shnoo Em Downing Eoin MacIonmhain Espetacara EV Everon Goen Exit Chamber Famished for Blonds Fantasy Sequence Finlay Shakespeare Flexagon Forces of Good Four Italian Pep Pills Fragile X From the Benthic Zone Garden of Surreal Dreams Gasmantell Gemma Cullingford Georgia Gone Caving Grant Basma Horsnell Grant Forrester Gusset Half Hazard Radio Heavy Cloud Hengist Pod Hi-Tech Criminal Hirsig Hole in the Machine Holmes & Atten Ash Holychao Hornbeam Human Concept Hymettus Woods Idiogram JD Twitch Jack Blake Jackaman James Graham James Oldrini James Sandford Jamie Cameron Jane Pitt Juxtagon Jeff Styroid Jim Jarmo Joe Ahmed Joe Muggs Joel Shea John Rushton Jonathan Higgins Junklight Junkyard of Silenced Poets K. Karl D'Silva Kate Arnold Kim Moore Kinver Pond Kitty Turner KKP 1489 Komputer L/F/D/M Lament_Config Lathave Park Lefthave Plank Leiyun Leptonandon Levi Fuller Liam Kendal Limited Ability Lomond Campbell Louzy Luke Hansbury Mabel Gwen vs Rusty Sheriff Malady of Knots Mark Healy Mark Wilkins Masios Matt Nix Matthew McCourt Matthew Thomason Meadow Pixie Mechanical Lobster Megalophobe Melony Klein Miriam Ingram Meridian Michael Begg Michael Denny Mike Smalle Mike Tupling Milk and Cheese Millz Davis Mitsubishi Cunliffe Mode 7 Project Modulator ESP Moray Newlands Mr Kong 95 Mr Kristoffa Museleon Mute Frequencies Myrrhman Nad Spiro Nat Lyon Naylee Negative Response Neve Nicolas Corniglion Nonalogue Old Man Oliver Lacon OOO EEE OOO Openchannel Outside Other Owen Sound P6 Palmer Eldritch Panamint Manse Passenger Pieon P. G. Warren pHactory Portobello Drone Choir Posthuman Pracownik Prequel Tapes Prince Video Production Unit Pye Corner Audio Rave Sir Robin Re:Search Remote-Control_Rectum Repeared Viewing Richard Sandling RJ Ellmer Robert Griffiths Roberta Fidora Robyn Gibson Rockets in the Trees Roland Oakes Ruaridh Law Sadie Maskery Saguenay Salford Electronics Salvatore Mercatante Samantha Fox Sansuro 77 Scanner Scott Smigiel Scumbag Radio Seapup Secret Nuclear Security Semispecific Ensemble Schestokken Shiranai Hito Sheer Zed Signal Signal Jammer Silas Andersen Simon Fisher Turner Simon Heartfield meets Megaheadphoneboy Sizike Skeleton Worm Slateford Mods featuring MC Dead Kennarty Slow Down Missy Snooks Solo1 Soundhead Spacelab Spiral Dial St James Infirmary Stephen Boyle Steve Emerson Stock Photography Strangest Pet on Earth Stuart Cook Subversive Recluse Swardh Tambay Teishi-1 Time Destroys All Things The Bookshop The Cairnsmore Conspiracy The Domestiques The Family Germ The Last Ambient Hero The Leaf Library The Nameless Book Thee Adversary Thelonius Martin Todd Snow Tom gunn Nash Toxic octopus UBO Unseen Hands Veryan Vitruvian Skies Von Heuser Walthamstow Home Keyboard Laboratory Warrior Bob Waves of Nightinglaes William Wild Wizards Tell Lies Writers Bloc Xelis De Toro Yol Yvette Haynes

[hlupdate]

Here he comes, one of the planet’s most conspicuous young men, stepping out of the London drizzle and into a dusty suburban pub. If there was an old vinyl record player in the place it would scratch quiet. Instead, the two-dozen punters turn hushed and intent, as if a unicorn has just trotted in off the street, and nobody wants to scare it off. “That’s frickin’ Harry frickin’ Styles,” whispers a young man at the bar, “in this pub.” The pop star is asked what he wants to drink and in a voice already inclined to undertones, quietly orders a cup of tea.

A former teen star who is now 25, a happier and rockier solo artist since his boyband One Direction split a few years ago, Styles has hidden himself inside a large, swamp-green parka. He’s tall, around the 6ft mark, and carries himself with a slight stoop. If Styles could only do something about his appearance from the neck up (elfin brow, wide Joker smile, a face that’s recognisable across multiple continents) you sense he could drink in pubs like this anonymously enough. As it is, cover blown, he removes the parka. A woolly jumper beneath has a picture of the planet Saturn on it. Maybe they’ve heard of Styles there, too.

We take a seat in the corner. On nearby tables, conversations start to sputter as people try to keep their own talk ticking along on autopilot while straining to hear what Styles says. I ask him about the sheer strangeness of this and other aspects of fame. Full stadiums, swooning admirers, an excess of opportunity and cash. Why isn’t Styles an absolute ordeal of a human being by now? Keith Richards, at a comparable stage, imagined himself the pirate leader of a travelling nation-state, unbound by international law. Elton John was on vast amounts of cocaine. Meanwhile, here’s Harry, known in the music industry as a bit of a freak, medically, having maintained abnormally high levels of civility in his system. 

Styles tilts his head, flattered. There are others, he promises. “People who are successful, and still nice. It’s when you meet the people who are successful and aren’t nice, you think: What’s yer excuse? Cos I’ve met the other sort.”

Styles read Keith Richards’ autobiography a while back, and he recently finished Elton’s, too. (“Soooo much cocaine,” he marvels.) We talk for a bit about whether extreme dissolute behaviour and artistic greatness go hand in hand. Styles, who has just released his second solo album, Fine Line, the penultimate track of which is called Treat People With Kindness, has to hope not. “I just don’t think you need to be a dick to be a good artist. But, then, there are also a lot of good artists who are dicks. So. Hmm. Maybe I need to start scaring babies in supermarkets?” 

A couple of lads hustle over to offer drinks. A photo is requested; they say they’ll wait. I’m weirdly anxious about Styles’s phone, which is slung on the table in front of him. What must be the black-market value of that thing? If fans were to get hold of it, would they want to open Styles’s music app first, to listen to tracks from the new album, or rush to see his messages and calls, to find out who Styles has been flirting with late at night? The interest in his music has always run at a ratio of about 50/50 with the interest in who he is dating.

It’s a ratio Styles tries to adjust in favour of the music by being vague about his ex-partners, real and rumoured (Taylor Swift, Kendall Jenner, Parisian model Camille Rowe), diverting to discuss his songs about failed relationships. A year ago, when Styles was floating around near this pub in north London, where he lives, and California, where he tends to record, looking for inspiration for the new album, his close friend Tom Hull told him: “Just date amazing women, or men, or whatever, who are going to fuck you up… Let it affect you and write songs about it.” 

Styles, who writes in collaboration with Hull and producer Tyler Johnson, sounds as if he took the advice. The new album, Fine Line, is at its best when capturing late-hours moments, drunk calls, “wandering hands”, kitchen snogs. A golden-haired lover recurs. There are up tracks, down tracks, some with the trippy delirium of harpsichord-era Stones, others with the angsty Britpop swell of strings. While I listened, I couldn’t help scribbling down names, possible subjects. On the lyric “There’s a piece of you in how I dress” I wrote: maybe Kendall? In a song about a lover “way too bright for me”: surely Taylor.

Styles says he keeps to a general rule: write what comes and don’t think about it too much afterwards. The only time he worries about an individual lyric is if it risks putting an ex in a difficult position. “If a song’s about someone, is that fine? Or is that gonna get annoying for them, if people try to decipher it?” Has he ever got that judgment call wrong and taken a bollocking from an angry ex? Styles raises an eyebrow. “Maybe ask me in a month.” 

I quiz him on something I’ve often wondered about. Why are the very famous so inclined to hook up with the very famous? From the outside it looks twice the hassle, with twice the odds of ending badly. “Don’t we all do that, though?” Styles asks. “Go into things that feel relatively doomed from the start?” I ask him why he doesn’t date normals. He seems tickled: “Um. I mean, I do. I have a private life. You just don’t know about it.” 

Styles doesn’t particularly like being asked about his love life, but is amused all the same, as he is about most things. When I ask about the logistics of someone as well known as him dating someone anonymous (“Do you need to give them, like, some sort of primer?”), Styles snorts with laughter. 

“Uh-h-h. Like any conversation, I guess, it’s easier if you’re honest. But I try to let it come up when it comes up. Cos that’s a weird thing to talk about, y’know? If you’ve just started seeing someone, and you’re, like: [he adopts a throaty, mission-briefing voice] So! This is what’s gonna happen!” Styles holds out his hands: no, ta. “I don’t wanna have that conversation, man. It would be fucking weird.” 

And not very sexy, I say.

“Not sexy,” Styles says, “no.”

A quick aside about his accent, which is hard to capture in print. (“Nat sexy, no.”) After a workout in a hotel gym recently, Styles says he was taken aback (“taken abeck”) to be asked by a stranger whether he was speaking in a fake voice. He was appalled. But after so long crossing borders and time zones, living and working between England and the US, the accent has undergone a jazzy remix, and tends to get farthest from its Cheshire roots when he’s around strangers. Once Styles begins to get comfortable in the pub, the flatter, no-nonsense sounds of his youth return. Nowpe he says, for nope. Fook, for fuck.

“What the fook are they?” This was the response of his childhood pals, he remembers, back in the village of Holmes Chapel, when little Harry had the gumption to show up in the playground wearing Chelsea boots instead of the approved chunky trainers. Styles’s parents had separated when he was very young, but there is no origin-story trauma: he has always stayed close to both. His mother, Anne, would praise his singing voice in the car, and when Styles was 16 it was agreed he could audition for a singing contest on TV.

“The craziest part about the whole X Factor thing,” says Styles, who auditioned for the ITV reality show in 2010, “is that it’s so instant. The day before, you’ve never been on telly. Then suddenly…” Suddenly you’re a piece of national property. “You don’t think at the time, ‘Oh, maybe I should keep some of my personal stuff back for myself.’ Partly because, if you’re a 16-year-old who does that, you look like a jumped-up little shit. Can you imagine? ‘Sorry, actually, I’d rather not comment…’ You don’t know what to be protective of.”

By the winter of 2010, Styles was a fan favourite, a key member of One Direction, a five-piece that enjoyed enormous national exposure and gathered millions of fans before any music had been released. Cameras filmed every part of their rise. There wasn’t any time in the dark to practise, test things out, mentally brace. “We didn’t get to dip in a toe,” Styles says. “But, listen, I was a kid, all I knew was: I didn’t have to go to school any more. I thought it was fucking great.” He remembers having a lot of fun, and being well taken care of. He jokes: “Maybe it’s something I’ll have to deal with a bit later. When I wake up in my 40s and think: Arrrggh.”

In February 2012, One Direction were feted at the Brit Awards, hours before they were due to fly to the US for the first time. On TV that night they looked young, silly, chuffed – on the precipice of something huge, and with no clue at all. Their subsequent wonder-run (five platinum albums, four world tours) had its foundations in their ridiculous popularity in the States. Right away, Styles remembers, “We were fuelling a machine. Keeping the fire going.” He remembers it as a stimulating time; maybe overstimulating. “Coming out of it, when the band stopped, I realised that the thing I’d been missing, because it was all so fast paced, was human connection.”

I first met Styles in 2014, around the time the lack of human connection was starting to bite. One Direction were promoting their penultimate album and I’d been commissioned to write about themthe Guardian. Management felt the boys were so exhausted that my minutes in their presence had to be strictly counted. Inside a circle of cripplingly hot lights, while someone ran the stopwatch, we interacted as humanly as we could.

I remember how jaded the best singer in the group, Zayn Malik, seemed. (Malik was weeks away from quitting.) I also remember how flattered and bewildered the others were to be asked a few grownup questions – and not what Louis Tomlinson would later describe to me as “who’s-your-favourite-superhero… all that shit”. Styles was watchful and quiet that day. By total chance, a week later, we were in the same London cafe and he tapped my shoulder. He was having lunch with friends. “Will ya join us?” 

t struck me as a quietly classy move. I was fascinated to see him interact with mates he’d chosen for himself. Styles was dry and funny, older than his years. After lunch we said the usual things about keeping in touch, and followed each other on Twitter. I kept an eye on his updates, about leaving One Direction, releasing an impressive, self-titled debut album in 2017, playing for 36,000 people in Madison Square Garden in New York, acting in Christopher Nolan’s Oscar-nominated war movie Dunkirk. Meanwhile, I did my best to manage the mess that had been made of my own account after Styles’s Twitter follow ignited a small explosion of teenage longing in my mentions. For at least a year I received weekly, sometimes daily, pleas from people who wanted messages conveyed to “H”. Still now, every few days, fans in America, Asia and Europe follow me to “see what H sees” in their timeline. 

He has around 50 million social media followers, and with that comes the ability to ripple the internet like somebody airing a bedsheet. I’ve noticed, though, how rarely Styles directs people to support specific causes, last doing so in 2018, when he encouraged people to join a march against gun violence. Why don’t you use your influence more, I ask? “Because of dilution. Because I’d prefer, when I say something, for people to think I mean it.” He runs his fingertips across the table. “To be honest, I’m still searching for that one thing, y’know. Something I can really stand up for, and get behind, and be like: This Is My Life Fight. There’s a power to doing the one thing. You want your whole weight behind it.”

It’s one of the things that sets Styles apart, the way he puts his whole weight behind the different aspects of this strange job. If you watch footage of him as a guest host on Saturday Night Live last month, Styles plunges in, fully inhabiting the silliness of every sketch. He has good songs in his repertoire (2017’s ballad Sign Of The Times stands out), and would probably admit to some middling songs that attest to his relative inexperience as a writer. But whichever of his songs Styles performs, he goes all-in, trusting that his zest and energy will hold an audience’s attention. He approaches this interview in roughly the same spirit, not enjoying every question, fidgeting, pleading for clemency once or twice, but giving everything due consideration.

I bring up something Styles joked about earlier: the possibility of waking up in his 40s with deferred mental health problems.

“Mm,” he says

Have you thought about therapy, I ask, to get ahead of that?

“I go,” he says. “Not every week. But whenever I feel I need it. For a really long time I didn’t try therapy, because I wanted to be the guy who could say: ‘I don’t need it.’ Now I realise I was only getting in my own way.” He shrugs. “It helps.”

Lately he’s been reading a lot (Lisa Taddeo’s Three Women stood out). He’s watched a lot of Netflix (crime thrillers and music docs). He recently cried through Slave Play on Broadway. I sense in Styles, at 25, a pent-up undergraduate hunger, maybe a desire to make up for lost time. “I’ve definitely been wanting to learn stuff, try stuff,” he says. “Things I didn’t grow up around. Things I’d always been a little bit sceptical about. Like therapy, like meditation. All I need to hear is someone saying, ‘Apparently, it’s amazing’, and I’ll try it. When I was in Los Angeles once, I heard about juice cleanses. I thought, yeah, I’ll do a juice cleanse.”

How messy were the results?

“You mean…?” Styles raises an eyebrow, recalling the poos. “They were all right. I was just hungry. And bored.”

One notable feature of Styles’s solo career has been his headlong embrace of unconventional clothing. A 2017-18 tour could have been sponsored by the Dulux colour wheel: mustard tones in Sydney, shocking pink in Dallas. In a more serious sense, some of Styles’s choices have fed into an important political discussion about gendered fashion. In May, as a co-host at the Met Gala in New York, he stepped out in a sheer blouse and a pearl earring. One evening’s work challenged a lot of stubborn preconceptions about who gets to wear what.

He says: “What women wear. What men wear. For me it’s not a question of that. If I see a nice shirt and get told, ‘But it’s for ladies.’ I think: ‘Okaaaay? Doesn’t make me want to wear it less though.’ I think the moment you feel more comfortable with yourself, it all becomes a lot easier.”

What do you mean, I ask?

Styles is leaning forward, hands folded around his cup of tea. “A part of it was having, like, a big moment of self-reflection. And self-acceptance.” He has a habit, when he’s made a definitive statement, of raising his chin and nodding a little, as if to decide whether he still agrees with himself. “I think it’s a very free, and freeing, time. I think people are asking, ‘Why not?’ a lot more. Which excites me. It’s not just clothes where lines have been blurred, it’s going across so many things. I think you can relate it to music, and how genres are blurring…”

Sexuality, too, I say.

“Yep,” says Styles. “Yep.”

There’s a popular perception, I say, that you don’t define as straight. The lyrics to your songs, the clothes you choose to wear, even the sleeve of your new record – all of these things get picked apart for clues that you’re bisexual. Has anyone ever asked you though?

“Um. I guess I haaaaave been asked? But, I dunno. Why?”

You mean, why ask the question?

“Yeah, I think I do mean that. It’s not like I’m sitting on an answer, and protecting it, and holding it back. It’s not a case of: I’m not telling you cos I don’t want to tell you. It’s not: ooh this is mine and it’s not yours.”

What is it then?

“It’s: who cares? Does that make sense? It’s just: who cares?”

I suppose my only question, then, is about the stuff that looks like clue dropping. Because if you don’t want people to care, why hint? Take the album sleeve for Fine Line. With its horizontal pink and blue stripes, a splash of magenta, the design seems to gesture at the trans and bisexual pride flags. Which is great – unless the person behind it happens to be a straight dude, sprinkling LGBTQ crumbs that lead nowhere. Does that make sense?

Styles nods. “Am I sprinkling in nuggets of sexual ambiguity to try and be more interesting? No.” As for the rest, he says, “in terms of how I wanna dress, and what the album sleeve’s gonna be, I tend to make decisions in terms of collaborators I want to work with. I want things to look a certain way. Not because it makes me look gay, or it makes me look straight, or it makes me look bisexual, but because I think it looks cool. And more than that, I dunno, I just think sexuality’s something that’s fun. Honestly? I can’t say I’ve given it any more thought than that.”

In our musty corner of the pub we’ve somehow passed a couple of hours in intense discussion. We’ll lighten up, before Styles heads home, with some chat about clever films (Marriage Story), stupider viral videos (the little boy who’s just learned the word “apparently”), that favourite-superhero stuff that, after all, has its place. He talks about the curious double time scheme of a pop star’s life – those crammed 18-hour days and then the sudden empty off-time when Styles might find himself walking miles across London to buy a book, afterwards congratulating himself: “Well, that’s an hour filled.”

Before we stand up I ask if he’s minded any of my questions.

He pushes out his lips, possibly recalling them one by one, then shakes his head. “What I would say, about the whole being-asked-about-my-sexuality thing – this is a job where you might get asked. And to complain about it, to say you hate it, and still do the job, that’s just silly. You respect that someone’s gonna ask. And you hope that they respect they might not get an answer.”

I tell him I do.

“Cool.”

Styles has to find those lads who wanted a photo. He scoops his phone off the table and flicks his thumb around the screen. Lately, he says, when he messes around on his phone in an idle moment, it’s mostly to look at videos – clips that his friends have sent him, in which their kids sing along to music he’s made. “Never gets old,” Styles says, beaming.

A few years ago, when he emerged from the boyband, blinking, shattered, he set himself three tasks: prioritise friends, learn how to be an adult, achieve a proper balance between the big and the small. Full stadiums, provocative outfits – Styles genuinely loves these things. “But I guess I’ve realised, as well,” he says, “that the coolest things are not always the cool things. Do you know what I mean?” He grabs his parka and his phone and, a little stooped, heads for home.

#harry styles #the guardian #stunt mention #131219

[thatonefromyourdreams]

I’m Sorry - [Natasha Romanoff x OC]/(7)

The reason why I came here was finally happening.

Em was getting married today and I was a nervous mess. She told me to wear a dress and this was actually worst than coming out to my parents.

"Mom, I'm gay" I said firmly "Pathetic"

I took a deep breath

"Mom, I like women" I said "Lameeee" I banged my head against the mirror

"Mom, I'm dating a girl and I want to marry her"

Try again

"MOM I'M GAY!" I screamed

"Not your mom but I knew it" dad came to my room acting like it wasn't a big deal

"You knew it?" I asked incredulously "How?"

"Well, the Garcia girl called a couple of days after you left" Lu called, okay

"Lu?"

"Yes, the girl you used to spend every day with; she called crying, I think she was drunk" Lu never drank

"Lu?" that was all I could say

He ignored me and continued

"She told me that she needed to tell you how sorry she was, and that she was still in love with you; I'm going to quote her 'I want everything we promised' and then she hung up"

"Wow" I said shocked

"Honey that doesn't mean that I don't love you, I do. You are my baby and nothing could ever change that"

"I wasn't expecting this kind of reaction"

"I'm sorry, you kind of took me off guard, I wanted to buy a coming out cake but... time" he made a funny face

I laughed and hugged him

"Thank you dad" I said trying not to cry

"So... any girl I should know about? I mean if they break your heart I can't beat them because your dad wouldn't hit a girl"

He was taking this so lightly

"I have a girlfriend" I said smiling shyly

"What's her name?" he asked

"Natasha" I said simply

"I like her already" and with that I took off a giant weight from my chest

"Dad... I feel like I let you down" I started

"No, don't ever think that, you're my little girl" he interrupted me "We should get going to the house to see if Emi needs help"

I just wished mom could react like this, but I knew she would freak out and do something stupid like start screaming or fake a seizure, I knew her too well.

We took our bags to my dad's jeep and drove to his beach house, this was the first time I'd see that house.

"Nice" I said as we entered the house, the walls were blue, with hints of white and it was so tidy and organized

"I hired someone to make it look decent" he said as if he was reading my mind

"It looks perfect" I sighed "it makes me want to get married here"

He gave me a funny look

"What?" I asked

He kept looking at me smiling

"You're starting to freak me out" I said walking in front of him to the back of the house

"You want to get married" he said calmly

I had forgotten that throughout my childhood and most of my teen years I had said that I would never get married.

"I do..." I took a deep breath "As a matter of fact, I was going to propose when we were in Paris but I just didn't feel it was the right moment"

"I know you Vale, and I don't have to be with you 24/7 to know that it wasn't that the real reason"

He knew me too well

"She’s a spy, dad, not just that, she’s the spy. The one you watch in movies but better, and I’m just me"

"Valentina, you’re so used to be you that you can’t actually see how wonderful you are"

I rolled my eyes

"Do you remember that time when those men robbed our house and they tied you down and took everything?" I asked

"What does that has to do with Natasha?" he said

"Well, mom kept saying to everyone that she married you for security and know she had to waste the money in therapy for the trauma"

He kept quiet for a full minute before saying

"You are trying to say that in one point Natasha is going to turn into a woman like your mom?"

"No, dad..."

"I assume you didn't choose a woman like your mom so you won’t have that kind of trouble" he interrupted

He took my hand

"She loves you for who you are" he said sweetly

I loved how dad always said exactly the right word when we had a problem, he was so nice and so thoughtful.

"Why did you marry mom?" I asked out of the blue

"I adored her and that was the beginning of my ending" he said "Your mom was a beautiful brown haired girl, who loved literature and medicine"

"Mom?" I asked incredulous

"Yes, through all of high school she said she wanted to be a doctor. But you know how Marina is" he said referring to my mother's mother.

I nodded

"She said that medicine wasn't a career for girls and that she had to study something more adequate for her"

"So she chose bakery?" I asked

"She went to culinary school and became a chef, but baking was her second passion so she dedicated to that"

Mom owned a franchise chain of cake shops and even thought it wasn't as big as my dad's company, it paid the luxurious life mom dreamed of.

"She is a broken woman Vale, and she loves you, in her very own way"

"She kicked me out of the house" it was a hard topic to me

"She regretted it, she went to search for you the next day but she didn't find you and Emi said she had promise you not to say a word"

"Dad?" I asked

"Was I the reason you divorced?"

He looked down

"No, you weren't" I didn't push any further

"VALE! DAD!" Em yelled from the back of the house

"Bridezilla" we both said before breaking into a fit of laughter

.---------------------------------------

"The ceremony is about to start" the wedding planner said with a clipboard in his hand "Go to your places"

"I'll see you later with another last name" I smiled to Em

She smiled back

"Go to your place" the planner said again

I walked to the first row of chairs placed carefully for the ceremony. Mom was to my side and on the other side was Enrique, Lucía and Ricardo.

"Vale" Enrique, Carlos' younger brother, smiled

"Kike" I smiled back

He didn't say anything else

The wedding march started we got up, there she was. I saw Em earlier inside with her gorgeous strapless dress, but know, with the palm trees and the colors of the sunset she looked incredibly beautiful.

I wanted that, to see Nat walking down the aisle with a dress while I was waiting for her at the end, I wanted it to be with her. I took my phone out to take a picture of her, she looked so unreal. I remembered when were younger, everything she had done for me, she was more my mother than the woman next to me.

"Hasta que la muerte los separe" the father said

"Until my last breath" Carlos said kissing her

.-------------------------

"You look nice" Mom came to my side while I was watching Em and Carlos share their first dance

Lucky I'm in love with my best friend...

The music played in the back

"You too mom" I said not paying much attention to her

"One day that is going to be you" she said softly

"I really hope so" I murmured, Kendall hadn't texted all day

"A beautiful young man, I know a few..." she kept talking about guys.

Now Val, it's your turn, come on!

"Margaret's boy is a darling, he has his own apartment on Main Street..."

NOW VAL!

"Mom..." I said softly but she kept talking

"His name is Arturo, he is a doctor, and he saves people..."

"Mom..." I said again

"You too could get along, he is a gentleman..."

"MOM!" I said loudly, making a few persons turn

"Yes?" she asked annoyed

"Valentina is that you?" Aunt Delia came with her two daughters

I smiled

"Hi Aunt Delia"

"Oh darling you are so thin!" she took my arm

She must have sensed my discomfort

"Nice to see you" she said an rushed

"Mom..." I started

"Honey, speak quickly, I need to search for Pablo" I looked at her frowning but didn't say anything.

"Mom I don't want to date Margaret's son" I started

"Okay, I have a lot of friends"

"No mom, I don't want to date any of their sons" I said, my heart beating faster and faster.

"Why?" she asked confused

"Mom... I'm..."

"Pablo" she said a tall figure walking to us

"Hello" I knew him, he was the guy.

"Mom, I'm gay" I said loudly

Mom and the guy looked at me shocked.

#Avengers #AVENGERS ANGST #avengers imagine #Avenger #avengers x reader #avenger reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female!reader #natalia romanova #wanda maximoff #pepper pots #maria hill #sharon carter #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #tony stark #clint barton #bruce banner #thor #Loki Laufeyson #fanfic #lesbian #lesbian fic #coming out

[obannthepunished]

Thiiiis weeks notes yall

unrelated matt finished with his usual speech but threw a “i love you very much” in there and i legit started crying bc that registers in my very broken brain as “yeah this is actually true” and that hasnt happened w/ anyone OTHER than matt in three years so yeah. fun

anyway, hope yall r ready for some heavy readin

unless i missed some, 826LA gets $800 this week from the nat 1′s so thats fun

rashnorkthings replied to your post: Thiiiis weeks notes yall unrelated matt finished...

they actually rolled 13 nat 1’s according to critrolestats

So I did miss some! I didn’t start deliberately counting for a while so eh, my bad

Yasha slept outside in the alley 8(

New woman at the barm human, 50s, black hair

"Fjord! Fjord, dont you DARE have fun without us!" - Molly, running away from skele vs person convo for fjord

trebuchet- throwing sandbags @ basket/line??? Either way 5 copper for three throws + Fjord pays for both himself and Molly

fjord gets...... two nat ones in a row. hits a mother in the face. rips a sandbag all over himself. Yasha and Jester pick him up and he gets ANOTHER nat 1 yasha and jester THROW FJORD.

Molly gets 19 on his first throw. ofc he takes it with a big ass bow. Jester takes one throw, rolls 6, straight up, STRAIGHT down, yasha + moll detangle her Yasha rolls 4 Molly gets a nice fuckin strawberry.

caleb nat 20s on a cup switchy game nott plays nat1 ofc.

Beau (+ Molly) lookin for some wild fuckin mead "dyou have mead that doesnt taste like piss?" "... i have mead that'll get ya fucked up. might still taste like piss." both beau and molly get the stupid strong mead

hammer bell game but with a rock. titans grasp? yasha + jester play YASHA RAGES. SHE. RAGEs. LOVE IT. 17, it tilts but doesnt turn over. roll2 24 !!!! and it TURNS FUCK YEAH

Caleb counts her money as she does from like 10 feet away i love him

jester tries and gets a fucking NAT 20 i love her, it rolls twice she only gets 7 gold tho cause yasha won the 44#

Jester cuts off a slice of caramel apple for a small child aw she buys them all caramel apples, except yasha who gets a candied apple instead bc theres only 6 caramel

"caleb! caleb! can you run detect magic on any of this?" -M caleb does that whilst molly plays distraction @ the tapestry booth *

symbol of the platinum dragon, very VERY gaudy, tapestry, run by a mid 30s half elf. that one is 10 gold. 7 feet top to bottom. oh yeah i forget mol has the platinum dragon necklace thats fun, thats a note to self

nott pulls the "caleb's my dad" "he just humansplained me" - nott oh Caleb's doing some archery "if you want to have a laugh, lets have me doing some physical sport" - Caleb

caleb ties his hair back awww bb, uses wire (later takes it out but still)

Nott gets a perfect bullseye on the far target AND the middle target, gets a bullseye on the middle + splits it and on the close target too

yasha (re rats): I thought... that was dinner...? Molly: were not eating the rats so nott gives her a rat candied/caramel rats.......... no

jester disguises herself and desecrates an alter but like, for the traveler so

beaus going arm wrasslin gainst a burly dude. and she loses ofc. yashas goin up against an even BIGGER dude. shes covering her face w her hair blass jester shouting about how beautiful her hair is he recognises her as xorhasian and she gets mad af and nat 20s him super hard but he catches it 8( nott distracts him with "kendall is getting to second base with your wife right now" Y: 21, twice, she's close to gettin him!!! 14 and theyre back to the middle. 14 and BACK TO THE MIDDLE!, 17 and shes on the push, 22 and theyre BACK to the middle fucks sake. 21 and shes succeeding again on the puuuush (i am so stressed), 19 YASHA WINS Jester wrasslin Nott to stop nott shooting gunther (sp) "BREAK HIS ARM OFF YASHA"

Yashas invited to join a merc group oof, but fjord chips in that shes spoken for bless

calebs busy trying to talk his way into the archive of the cobalt soul... cept he doesnt need to cause its open to the public with an escort. asks abt the hall of... erudition??? iridition? i shouldlook this up. that knowledge open only to stuuudents?? of the hall. and the headmaster "ormed?? hass???" thats what it sounds like idk

"i turn a corner and ffffffuhkin book it"

beau is so judgemental lmao Beau: cobalt's a good colour on you caleb: what? Beau: (shrugging) you look good in blue [break]

tournament time

"what is your name???" "Caleb and beauregard can you front me 16 gold" beau: beau: beau: here.>:I

Liam: Kitty. thats just the auto for him now frumpkin does fail the stealth check tho 8( hes not kicked just carried out and disappeared into the pocket dimension.

i wish i could hear good bc im decently sure liam made a mostly in character gag about caleb not taking his clothes off yet

FORMALLY DECLARED WAR ON XORHAS HOLY SHIT "return word to [the king] that Zadash prepares to join the front"

fjord tries to glean info so hard

caleb: it just occured to me, that starting tomorrow it will be more important than ever that we stick together jester: all of us? or just you and nott?

Beau reveals to Caleb that she is/was?? is?? part of the cobalt soul + can get him into the library, shows him the scripture on her belt as explanation*

clerics from the house of the platinum dragon out there as healers

menagerie coast just full of friendly folk confirmed [darrow's group is menagerie coast at visual identification]

half giant with spikes and terrifying jester: i hope we dont have to fight him beau: i want to be him "Germichael??? jermikael???" i like that one lmao

caleb puts his hood up.

big froggo creature to the asshole arm wrestle group. leader is swallowed and carves his way out

mighty nein is second. two doors, one creature, beast has large tentacle like arms, greyish brown mass 15 ft, giant mouth teeth, three tendrils, stinks real bad knew i shoulda brought kalvins monster manual to bed w me

Beau: 24 Molly 23 Creature Caleb: 18 Nott: 16 Jester, yasha, fjord: 6(66) beau uses her two WOODEN SWORDS (flavour to her unarmed strikes) two attacks, 13 is too low to hit

molly vm: YOUVE GOT NO ARMS (no effect) radiants his swords

gil continuesto fuck marisha.

NEW SPELLS!!!! caleb casts enlarge??? on yasha, doubles her size, cool shit

14 is its ac

hellish rebuke from jes: YOU STILL DONT HAVE ANY STUPID ARMS

yasha nat 20s does a total offff 41 dmg gets the hdywtdt, stabs through its whole entire head

jester medicines at beau for her poison, manages to cure it.

the line whatever, gunthers group goes down

jester gets on a wall. Giant fucking wolves???

Liam nat 1s 826la is gettin gud

Order: Beau (nat 20s) Jester Molly Yasha Nott Fjord Caleb

beau tries to treat the wolf as a dog bless

Molly's VM: BAD DOGGY (butt turkey lmao)and it hits!!!

oh shit fucking ice breath, 15 foot cone, hits yasha jester and caleb jes is cold resistant but we did already know that so

other one goes @ fjord + molly a LOT OF DAMAGE fjord saves molly doesnt. 26 points.

yasha nat 20's does a decent chunk of damage fjord hexes THAT one

caleb maximillians earthen grasps the one NOT hexed

jester runs across the wall and comes down on the back of the hexed wolf with her handaxe **

molly stabby, misses one, nat 1's "oh my god its a natural fucking one" which was fuuuurrry enpurrtaining

earthen grasp one breaks free, but that is its action sooo beau pulls by the tail and stops it fuckin movin on her attack of opportunity

yash NAT 20S AGAIN KICK ASS BITCH

fjord finally summons the wastehunter falchion, which nobody else woulda known about whoomph

beau: i wanna crack it in the nuts and then CRACK it over the back nat 1 on the back, 17 on the nuts :b ** "SPAY AND NEUTER YOUR PETS" flurry of blows but it misses

molly gets the hdywtdt on the second, and cheshire smiles it to the extreme

jester casts prayer of healing on all but nott who is unharmed

mountain makers go out, owlbears fuckin destroy them

stubborn stock? stalk? displacer beasts, i dont need matt to tell me what these are, one of them goes down and darrow is trapped and mauled for a moment, one of the fighters goes down, and FINALLY they fuck up the other beast

caleb calls frumpkin back "just to have him with me" they fight for fucking ages honestly

hill giant!!! FUCK (liam takes a photo and good job son you got that now)

#Critical Role #Critical Role Notes