#Los Angeles Times Studios

[savagebeautyqueen]

Kanye and Bianca going to the studio last night

[brian-in-finance]

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Orlando Bloom Lost 52 Pounds in Three Months for Boxing Drama ‘The Cut’: ‘You Feed Somebody Tuna and Cucumber Long Enough…’

In the Sean Ellis film “The Cut,” Orlando Bloom plays a boxer on the brink of a total breakdown as he races against the clock to drop weight before a fight. Under the guidance of a shady coach, played by John Turturro, Bloom will do anything to shed pounds, even as it threatens his life.

Bloom himself lost a whopping 52 pounds in three months in preparation for the movie, which also stars Caitríona Balfe. He discussed his eye-popping physical transformation at Variety‘s Toronto Film Festival Studio, sponsored by J.Crew and SharkNinja.

“I basically tiered down the food over a three-month period until just before filming, [when] I was at my lightest. I dropped 52 pounds, and I was about 185 when I started,” Bloom said. “So I dropped quite a lot of weight, and I was very mentally challenged as well. You feed somebody tuna and cucumber long enough…”

Screenshot from 📹: see link

Since the film follows the boxer on an often disturbing journey to making a lower weight class, Ellis shot “The Cut” in reverse chronological order, meaning Bloom was actually bulking up during production.

“Your brain is starved of calories, basically,” Ellis said to Bloom. “It was going to be impossible for him to work while dieting. So, he came to us at his lightest, and then he starts to eat. So that meant that we had to shoot the film [with] the ending first and the beginning of the movie at the end. … Over the 25 days that we were shooting, he was putting on the calories. And then it’s edited in reverse.”

Bloom adding the physical transformation was more “exciting” than “daunting.”

“I was more surprised about the mental aspect of [it], like the sleep deprivation, and not the depleted calories,” he said. “There’s a lot going on in your brain … living in that headspace for a while was very challenging.”

Audiences looking for a straight-forward boxing movie may be surprised, however, as “The Cut” plays out more like a body horror. It’s set mostly in a hotel room as the boxer drains blood, takes diuretics and manipulates his body before the all important weigh-in. Some of the more intense scenes shocked the crowd at the film’s world premiere on Thursday night.

“Somebody in my row passed out!” Bloom said. Ellis concurred: “Yeah, we had a fainter. I think we’ve got to put that on the film poster.”

Balfe, who plays Bloom’s character’s wife, said of seeing “The Cut” with an audience for the first time, “You can read something on the page and it sounds one way, but to see it, it’s so visceral. And I think the way it was shot and the way it was performed, it’s a tough watch. A good watch, but…”

On a lighter note, Bloom weighed in (no pun intended) on the upcoming album from Katy Perry, his fiancée with whom he shares a daughter.

“They just get better as they go along,” he said of the “Teenage Dream” singer’s albums. “She’s a powerhouse, and I sort of marvel at her ability to keep knocking it out in such a major way, and bringing so much joy and gusto and joie de vivre to life. It’s always so impressive. But, yeah, ‘143’ baby!”

Variety

Remember… you can read something on the page and it sounds one way, but to see it, it’s so visceral. And I think the way it was shot and the way it was performed, it’s a tough watch. A good watch, but… — Caitríona Balfe

[karlicartoons]

WALT DISNEY PRODUCTION WORKERS NEED YOUR HELP!

(Edit 05/15/2023): NOW THE WRITERS NEED YOUR HELP! THEY ARE CURRENTLY ON STRIKE RIGHT NOW!!

(Posted March 8, 2023) Hey fam! The Mouse is refusing to recognize the unionization efforts of its production workers. If you're not familiar with what PCs or PMs do, I'll outline it briefly. The tl;dr is that NO ANIMATION WOULD GET DONE WITHOUT PRODUCTION WORKERS. They are the glue holding together every single production of your very favorite cartoons!

They take notes in all the meetings with the artists.

They make sure the artists are meeting their deadlines (and showing up to the meetings in the first place).

They help us navigate studio servers to find the files we're looking for.

They send us our time cards, and make sure we get paid!

Production workers do all this and more, often for minimum wage. The hardships that they suffer as a result--the long hours, the unpaid overtime, the abuses of power--are horrific.

You'd really think that they'd be compensated fairly for these jobs! Can you imagine trying to live in Los Angeles or New York on minimum wage with a job that definitely won't allow you time to pick up a second or third one??

This has to stop, and you can help.

All that Walt Disney Animation Studio's production workers ask is that you add your name to this petition! That's it.

This isn't some Change.org petition. It's not going to sell your email to spam companies. This is through IATSE (our union)'s website.

TELL DISNEY YOU STAND WITH PRODUCTION WORKERS!!!

[natsaffection]

Im glad i’m not the only one who saw 4ngel1v’s ai pics!! It just brewed up another idea! I told you it would be soon.

Think about Gp Nat as a beefy bodyguard and reader is like a famous singer or actor🤷‍♀️. And they didn’t meet on great terms, but reader ends up hiring nat and whatever it was between them grew. But thing is that they couldn't distinguish their tension from hate. One thing that reader could distinguish though, was Nats jealousy. SO LIKE A YKYK ENEMIES TO LOVERS BUT RLLY SLOW PROCESS TO LOVERS n smuttyy🤭

“What’s with the attitude, you weren’t as grumpy earlier?”

“Loosen up a little, it’s fine to be a risky once in a while, Natasha”

“You’re giving me a handjob at YOUR premiere. We’re thinking of two different versions of risky.”

-💋

I'm not going anywhere. | N.R

Bodyguard!Natasha x Younger!Actress!Reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! G!P Natasha, Age gap ( R is 22 and Nat is 32) Inappropriate behavior, so much teasing, kinda handjob, begging, rough sex, pet names, angst

Word Count: 9,5k

A/N: Okay, when this is posted I'll be driving 200 km/h on the highway for the next 36 hours. So I hope everything works out, because I don't have the chance to reply right now 🫶🏼🥸

Thank you my lovely anon, you served again 🌚 I really enjoyed writing this, even though I was very carried away

You were born and raised in a small, picturesque town in the heart of the countryside. Your parents, both teachers, instilled a love of learning and creativity in you from an early age. Your mother, an English teacher, often read you classic literature at bedtime, sparking a lifelong passion for storytelling. Your father, a drama teacher, introduced you to the world of theater and encouraged you to participate in school plays and local theater productions.

As a child, you were curious and imaginative, often inventing elaborate stories and characters in your head. You were very popular in your community for your kind heart and lively personality. Despite your small-town upbringing, you always dreamed of something bigger and longed for the excitement and opportunities that lay beyond the boundaries of your hometown.

At 16, your life took a decisive turn when you attended a summer acting camp. The camp was located in a bustling city, a stark contrast to your quiet hometown. There, you met aspiring actors, directors, and producers and for the first time, felt like you belonged. Your talent was quickly recognized by the camp leaders, who encouraged you to pursue a career in acting.

Upon returning home, you were more determined than ever to follow your dreams. You participated in every theater production you could to hone your craft and build a portfolio of diverse roles. Your parents, though initially concerned about the uncertainty of an acting career, wholeheartedly supported you and believed in your talent and dedication.

At 18, you moved to Los Angeles, the hub of the entertainment industry. The transition was daunting, you were a small-town girl in a sprawling, fast-paced city. You faced numerous rejections and challenges, working several part-time jobs to make ends meet while attending auditions and acting classes.

Your perseverance paid off when you landed a small role in an independent film. Though the role was minor, your performance caught the attention of a prominent casting director. Impressed by your natural talent and screen presence, the director recommended you for an audition for an upcoming blockbuster film from a major studio.

Nervous but excited, you gave your best at the audition. Weeks later, you received the life-changing news: you were cast in the lead role of the blockbuster film. The film was a huge success and catapulted you into the spotlight, making you an overnight sensation.

The sudden fame was overwhelming. You went from an anonymous aspiring actress to a celebrity constantly in the public eye. Paparazzi followed your every move, tabloids speculated about your private life, and fans demanded autographs and selfies everywhere you went. Although you were grateful for your success and the opportunities it brought, the lack of privacy and constant scrutiny were challenging.

Despite the challenges, you remained grounded, thanks to the support of your family and close friends. You continued to focus on your craft, taking on diverse roles to prove your versatility as an actress. You also used your platform to advocate for causes you believed in, earning you respect and admiration beyond your acting abilities

You are known for your down-to-earth personality and genuine kindness. You cherish your close circle of friends and often retreat to your hometown to escape the pressures of Hollywood and reconnect with your roots. Your parents remain your biggest supporters, proud of your achievements but always reminding you of the values they instilled in you.

In your free time, you enjoy reading, painting, and exploring new hobbies. You are a passionate traveler and find inspiration in the various cultures and stories you encounter. Despite your fame, you strive to lead a relatively normal life and appreciate the simple pleasures that keep you grounded.

4 years later.

The evening of the premiere was a whirlwind of flashing cameras, excited fans, and palpable excitement in the air. You, dressed in a stunning gown that perfectly captured your rising star status, had just finished a series of red carpet interviews. You felt a mix of excitement and nerves; this night was special not only because of the premiere of your new film but also because you were nominated for an award for another project. It could be the night you finally take home the coveted trophy.

As the event continued, you felt the familiar but inconvenient need to use the restroom. The premiere was in full swing, and you needed to be on stage soon. You made your way through the bustling crowd, your heels clicking on the polished marble floor of the grand theater.

Finally, you spotted the restroom sign and quickened your pace. But as you reached the door, you encountered an imposing figure: a tall, striking woman with piercing eyes and an aura of authority. Dressed in black, the woman stood guard in front of the restroom door, her stance rigid and alert.

"Excuse me, I need to use the restroom," you said, trying to maintain your polite demeanor despite the urgency of your situation.

The woman, whom you would later learn was Natasha Romanoff, did not move. "The restroom is occupied." Natasha replied sharply and unyieldingly. "Okay, surely there is a second stall..." you pleaded, glancing at the closed door behind Natasha.

Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly. "You'll wait.“ Your patience was running thin. You were a rising star and not used to being dismissed so abruptly. "Come on, I need to go, please. This is really important."

Natasha's expression remained unmoved, her voice cold and professional. "I don't care where you need to go. My instruction is to ensure no one enters until it's clear. Now step back."

Frustration boiled within you. You couldn't believe this woman didn't recognize you, given the number of posters and billboards plastered with your face. "Listen, I understand you have a job to do, but so do I. And if I can't use the restroom right now, there will be a disaster."

Natasha smiled and leaned in slightly, "Then you'll have to hold it, sweetheart."

You were taken aback by the dismissive tone. You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could say anything, the door behind Natasha opened, and another actress emerged, thanking Natasha for her vigilance. The actress’s eyes widened when she saw you.

"Oh my God, Y/N! Congratulations on the nomination, I loved your performance in the last film.“ the women gushed, clearly impressed. You forced a smile, still simmering with frustration. "Thank you. I'd love to chat, but I really need to use the restroom." The women looked at Natasha with a mix of surprise and something different. "Did you talked to her?“

Natasha's gaze remained unwavering and ignoring the question of the Women. „The restroom is free now." she said, stepping aside without acknowledging the women’s comment. You didn't waste a second and hurried past Natasha with a grateful nod. Inside the restroom, you took a moment to breathe, still fuming from the encounter but also somehow fascinated by the unyielding bodyguard.

When you emerged a few minutes later, you felt much calmer. Natasha was still there, like a sentinel. You couldn't help but feel a sense of challenge. You weren't used to being treated like an ordinary person, and part of you found Natasha's attitude both infuriating and refreshing. Without a word, you walked past Natasha, not giving her a second glance. As you walked away, you heard Natasha call after you: "Next time, plan better."

Your cheeks flushed with anger. You clenched your fists and kept walking, refusing to give Natasha the satisfaction of a response. The audacity of this woman! You couldn't believe how rude and dismissive she had been.

The energy in the grand theater was electric. The audience buzzed with excitement as the prestigious awards ceremony reached its climax. You, still feeling the irritation from the encounter with Natasha, took a deep breath as you awaited the announcement of the award. The presenter, a well-known acting veteran, took the stage and held the envelope containing the winner's name. "And the award for Best Actress goes to..." He paused for dramatic effect, letting the suspense build. "Y/N L/N!"

The room erupted in applause and cheers. Your heart raced as you stood up, your initial frustration forgotten in the wave of exhilaration. You moved gracefully to the stage, your gown sparkling under the bright lights. As you accepted the trophy, you couldn't help but smile at the outpouring of admiration and support from your peers and fans.

With the trophy in hand, you took a moment to collect your thoughts before beginning your speech. "Wow, this is incredible. I can hardly believe I'm standing here holding this award. First, I want to thank the cast and crew who made this film possible. You are all amazing, and I couldn't have done this without you."

As you continued your speech, your eyes wandered over the crowd, taking in the sea of faces. Then you saw her. Natasha. Despite the distance, Natasha's piercing gaze was unmistakable. Your smile faltered for a brief moment, but you quickly recovered. Natasha watched you intently, a slight smile on her lips. When your eyes met, Natasha winked.

The gesture, small but significant, sent a wave of annoyance through you. You could feel your cheeks heat up, not from embarrassment, but from the irritating coolness of the woman who had previously dismissed you so rudely. You continued your speech, trying to ignore the irritation under your calm facade.

"...And finally, I want to thank my family and friends for their unwavering support. You believed in me, even when I didn't believe in myself. This award belongs to you as much as it does to me. Thank you all." With a final wave, you stepped off the stage, your mind racing. The applause followed you, but your thoughts were fixated on Natasha. It was infuriating.

Backstage, you were surrounded by well-wishers and photographers, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Natasha. You couldn't shake the feeling that your paths would cross again in a significant way..

A few days after the awards ceremony, your agent called you with concerning news. "Y/N, we need to talk about your safety for your tour. There have been some..incidents." You frowned, recalling the increasing number of intrusive paparazzi and overly enthusiastic fans. "What kind of incidents?"

"Threatening letters, suspicious individuals trying to get close to you. It's getting serious, and we think it's time for you to consider a professional bodyguard." You sighed. The idea of having a bodyguard felt like a double-edged sword. You valued your privacy, but recent events had made you feel vulnerable. "Alright, who do you have in mind?"

Your agent hesitated for a moment. "There's someone highly recommended, but she has a... unique style. Natasha Romanoff.“ Your eyes widened. "You must be joking."

"No? She's one of the best in the field. Her methods are unconventional, but she gets results. Given the current situation, I think she's the right person for the job, plus she’s available now.“ Your mind raced back to the Gala night, the unyielding stance, the cold demeanor, and that infuriating wink. But if Natasha was as good as they said, it might be worth a try. Reluctantly, you agreed.

The next morning, Natasha arrived punctually at the agreed time at your residence. Dressed in her usual black, she looked every bit the seasoned professional. You opened the door, your expression a mix of annoyance and curiosity. "So, we meet again." Natasha nodded, her face impassive. "Hello, sweetheart. Patience today?"

You crossed your arms and stood firm. "Just so we're clear, I don't need you to treat me like a child. I can take care of myself." Natasha's lips twitched into a barely perceptible smile. "Noted. But my job is to protect you, even if you don't like my methods." You felt a flicker of the same irritation you had experienced at the Gala. This was going to be an interesting arrangement, to say the least.

A few weeks after the charity gala, you attended a book signing event for one of your favorite authors. The bookstore was packed with fans and media, all eager to catch a glimpse of the rising star. Natasha, as always, was nearby, scanning the crowd for potential threats.

As you chatted with fans and signed autographs, you felt a growing unease. One particular fan, a middle-aged man, lingered closer than seemed appropriate. His intense gaze and the way he approached you made you uncomfortable.

"Hello, can I take a photo with you?" the man asked, his voice overly eager. You forced a polite smile. "Of course," you said, posing for a quick photo. As you tried to move on to the next fan, the man grabbed your arm.

"Wait, you looked so good in the last movie... your style and all..." he said, tightening his grip. Your smile faded, and you tried to pull your arm back. "Please let go."

The man's grip only tightened, and he began reaching into his pocket. Before you could react, Natasha stepped in. She moved with lightning speed, prying the man's hand off your arm and positioning herself between you.

"Step back." Natasha ordered, her voice cold and commanding. The man looked startled but did not move. "I just wanted to give her something!"

Natasha remained unmoved. "I said step back. Now." The intensity in Natasha's eyes and the firmness of her voice finally got through to the man. He stepped back and disappeared into the crowd. Your heart was racing, but you felt a wave of gratitude toward Natasha. "Thank you.." you said, your voice shaking. Natasha nodded, her eyes still scanning the crowd. "Time to go."

At home, you couldn't shake off the day's events. You sat on the couch, replaying the encounter in your mind. Natasha stood nearby, her stance as rigid as ever. "Are you okay?" Natasha asked, her voice softer than usual You nodded. "Yes, just... a bit shaken." Natasha sat across from you, her expression unreadable. "You handled it well. But you need to be more aware of your surroundings. Fans can be unpredictable." You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude. "I know. I just didn't expect that."

"That's why I'm here," Natasha said, her tone firm but not unkind. "To expect the unexpected and keep you safe." You looked at Natasha, seeing her in a new light. Despite the rocky start, you realized how much you had come to rely on Natasha's presence. "I appreciate it.“

Natasha gave a crooked smile, a rare expression on her otherwise stoic face. "Just doing my job, princess." You rolled your eyes at the nickname but couldn't suppress a small smile. "You're impossible, you know that?" Natasha's smile widened. "And you're stubborn. I think we make a good team."

In the following weeks, your relationship developed further. There were still plenty of tensions and your share of arguments, but a mutual respect began to grow. Natasha's relentless professionalism and your determination to live your life on your own terms created a dynamic that was both challenging and oddly comforting.

One evening, as you were preparing for another public appearance and saw the crowds you had to move through, you stood closer to Natasha, her presence calming you. Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips forming a teasing smile. "Careful, princess, it almost looks like you actually like me." You laughed and shook your head. "Don't push it, Romanoff. But, since you're here..." Natasha's smile softened a bit. "Anytime."

Despite the nicknames and teasing, there was an unspoken understanding between you both and you couldn't deny Natasha's skills and dedication. Natasha, for all her toughness, began to see the determination and drive behind your fame and youth that had brought you to this point. Slowly, you began to understand each other and formed an uneasy alliance.

Next up was another film premiere, where you were the guest of honor. The tension between you was palpable again, fueled by your contrasting personalities and constant proximity.

While you were getting ready, you felt Natasha's eyes on you, checking every detail. "You know, you don't have to watch me like a hawk." you said, your tone sharper than intended. Natasha leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "It's my job to watch you."

"I can take care of myself." you snapped, turning fully to face her. Natasha's eyes narrowed. "Really? Because from where I stand, you've been pretty naive about the dangers around you."

You felt stung by the implication. "Naive? Just because I'm younger doesn't mean I'm clueless. I've worked hard to get here, and I don't need you undermining me." Natasha pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer. "And I don't need you questioning my every move. You hired me to protect you, and that's what I'm doing. If you don't like my methods, find someone else."

You glared at her, frustration boiling within you. "Maybe I will! I can't stand you treating me like a burden." Natasha's jaw clenched, her eyes flashing with anger. "You think I enjoy this? Looking after a spoiled little girl who doesn't appreciate what I do?"

The words hurt more than you cared to admit, and tears sprang to your eyes. "I'm definitely not spoiled! You don't know anything about me! And you know what? You are i-impossible, Natasha! I've had enough of your condescending attitude."

Natasha took a deep breath, clearly trying to rein in her temper. "Fine. Maybe I'm impossible. But at least I'm doing my job. You want to fire me? Go ahead. But don't come to me when everything falls apart."

You refused to let your tears fall. But Natasha saw them. "You're so arrogant... Do you even care about anything other than your job?" For a moment, Natasha's eyes softened, and you thought you saw a hint of regret, but it was gone in an instant. "I care about keeping you alive, even if you don't see it."

You turned away, struggling to compose yourself. "Just leave me alone for a moment." Natasha gave a curt nod and walked out, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You felt a mix of anger and guilt, knowing that despite everything, Natasha was right. The world you lived in was dangerous, and you needed someone like her to protect you.

Later that evening, you stood on the balcony of your hotel room, staring at the city lights. The day's events played over in your mind, and you felt a pang of guilt for the harsh words you'd thrown at Natasha. You heard the door open and turned to see Natasha, her expression unreadable. "Can I join you?" Natasha asked, her voice surprisingly gentle. You nodded, and Natasha stepped onto the balcony, leaning against the railing next to you.

"I'm sorry," you said after a moment of silence. "For what I said earlier. I didn't mean it." Natasha glanced at you, a hint of a smile on her lips. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have called you naive... and a little girl." You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. "It's just... this whole situation is new to me, okay? I'm not used to someone constantly having to watch over me."

"I know," Natasha said quietly. "And I'm not used to working with someone so... spirited as you. But I'm here to protect you, Y/N. Whether you like it or not." You couldn't help but laugh. "Spirited, huh? That's one way to put it." Natasha's smile widened. "You're tough, I'll give you that. But you need to trust me."

You nodded, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "I trust you. Even if you drive me crazy sometimes." Natasha chuckled. "The feeling is mutual, princess." You rolled your eyes at the nickname but couldn't suppress a smile. "Thank you, Natasha."

"Anytime," Natasha replied, her tone sincere. She looked at you, and before you could think too much about it, you turned and impulsively kissed Natasha on the lips. Natasha stiffened for a moment, then returned the kiss, her lips moving confidently against yours.

Your heart raced as you kissed Natasha, a surprising warmth flooding through you. As you pulled back slightly, you felt something firm press against your hip. Your eyes widened in surprise as you realized what it was. Natasha smirked, clearly noticing your reaction.

"Surprised?" Natasha asked, her voice deep and teasing. You nodded, still a bit stunned. "A little. I didn't see that coming.“ Natasha's smirk widened, a hint of pride in her eyes. "Well, I'm full of surprises."

You felt a blush creep over your cheeks, but you couldn't help but joke to cover your own nervousness. "Didn't know bodyguards got excited so easily." Natasha's eyes darkened with something more than just amusement. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Only when it's worth it."

Your breath caught as Natasha's hand lightly traced over your back, sending shivers down your spine. Natasha's presence was overwhelming, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. Natasha leaned over you slightly, her lips brushing your ear. "You're playing a dangerous game, princess," she murmured, her voice husky with desire.

Your cheeks burned, and you felt a wave of excitement that both thrilled and embarrassed you. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Natasha straightened up, an amused glint in her eyes as she stepped back. "Get some rest," Natasha said, her voice returning to its usual calm tone. "You have a big day tomorrow."

With that, Natasha turned and walked back into the hotel room, leaving you standing on the balcony, your mind racing and your body buzzing with emotions. As you stood there, the cool night air brushing your skin, you knew that things between you and Natasha would never be the same again. When you lay down that night, replaying the memory of the kiss and Natasha's teasing words, you couldn't help but smile, your heart racing with excitement and curiosity about what the future would bring.

Your schedule had become a whirlwind of appearances, interviews, and fan interactions as you toured to promote your latest film. Everywhere you went, enthusiastic fans awaited you, clamoring for autographs and selfies. Natasha was always close by.

One afternoon, you were at a signing event in a busy city. The line of fans stretched around the block, and you took time with each person, chatting and taking photos. However, Natasha noticed a pattern: you were livelier and smiled brighter when interacting with your female fans. It was something you did unconsciously, but Natasha picked up on it.

During a break, Natasha couldn't resist commenting. "You really come alive around the ladies, don't you, princess?" she said, her tone teasing but with a hint of something else. You raised an eyebrow, noting the subtle undertone in Natasha's voice. "What's that supposed to mean?" Natasha shrugged, a smirking smile on her lips. "Just an observation. You seem to enjoy their company more."

You felt a spark of defiance. Remembering the balcony scene and Natasha's teasing nature, you decided to push it further. If Natasha wanted to tease you, you'd give her a taste of her own medicine. "Maybe I do," you said, your tone playful. "Is that a problem?" Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly, but she maintained her cool demeanor. "Not at all. Just interesting to watch."

You decided to take it up a notch. For the rest of the event, you made an extra effort to be even more attentive with your female fans. You laughed louder, leaned in closer for photos, and gave their conversations more attention. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Natasha watching, her jaw tensing slightly.

You found it immensely amusing. You liked seeing the usually unflappable Natasha show a bit of emotion, especially jealousy. It gave you a sense of power in your otherwise tense dynamic.

Later that evening, you returned to the hotel. You were in high spirits, still buoyed by the interactions of the day and the success of your plan to annoy Natasha. As you entered the hotel suite, Natasha finally spoke. "You really enjoyed today, didn't you?“ You turned to her, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, I did. It was a lot of fun. Especially to see how you lose your composure"

Natasha's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and something deeper. "My composure? I have not lost my composure." You stepped closer, lowering your voice to a teasing whisper. "Sure looked like it to me." Natasha's gaze hardened, but there was no denying the hint of jealousy there. "Careful, Y/N."

You felt a thrill at the challenge in Natasha's voice. "Nope." Natasha stepped closer, the tension between you crackling like electricity. "You're testing my patience." You smiled, enjoying the power you held in this moment. "And what are you going to do about it?"

Natasha's eyes darkened with desire, and she stepped closer, her body only inches from yours. "Do you really want to know?" Your heart pounded in your chest, the air between you thick with tension. "Maybe I do.“ Natasha leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "Don't forget who you're playing with, princess. I don't give in easily."

You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you refused to back down. "Good. Neither do I." Natasha's smile widened, and for a moment, you thought she would kiss you again. But when Natasha turned and walked away, you couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and excitement. You had pushed Natasha's buttons and gotten a reaction, but you knew that this game you were playing was far from over.

In the following days, you continued to tease Natasha, finding new ways to provoke her jealousy. You found it incredibly amusing to see the normally composed bodyguard show signs of possessiveness. And despite the tension, there was an undeniable thrill in your interactions. Natasha seemed to enjoy the challenge as well. She never backed down and always met your provocations with her own brand of teasing and intensity. Your relationship was a constant back-and-forth, filled with playful banter and underlying desire.

The evening of the final premiere had arrived, and you were in your hotel suite, getting ready for the event. Your hair and makeup team were putting the finishing touches on your look, ensuring every detail was perfect. You wore a stunning dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, the shimmering fabric catching the light beautifully. You looked every bit the star you were, ready to captivate the crowd and cameras.

As you admired your reflection in the mirror, the door to your suite opened. Natasha walked in, looking as composed and confident as ever. She wore her usual black ensemble but had her jacket casually slung over her shoulder, and her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of her toned chest. The sight made your heart skip a beat, and you hated yourself for finding Natasha so attractive.

Natasha's eyes scanned over you appreciatively, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, don't you look like a million dollars tonight." You rolled your eyes and tried to hide your blush. "Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself."

Natasha chuckled and stepped closer. "You really know how to turn heads, princess. Try not to cause too many heart attacks out there." You felt a mix of irritation and something warmer, more exciting. "I'll do my best." you said, your tone half teasing, half serious. Natasha's smile widened. "Remember, I'm here to protect you. Can't have you distracting me too much." You laughed and shook your head. "I'll try not to be too much of a distraction."

Natasha's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before she nodded. "Good. Ready to go?" You took a deep breath and cast one last look in the mirror. "Ready."

The red carpet was a flurry of activity, with flashing cameras and cheering fans. You moved gracefully through the crowd, stopping for interviews and photos. Natasha was always nearby, her eyes scanning the surroundings for potential threats. Despite the busy environment, your mind was elsewhere. You had been thinking about the ongoing game with Natasha, the back-and-forth of your interactions, and the growing tension between you. Tonight, you decided, you would take it a step further.

As you entered the theater for the premiere, you could feel the electricity in the air. You excused yourself from the group of people you were with and moved to a quieter part of the lobby. Natasha followed you, her vigilant eyes missing nothing. "Everything okay?" Natasha asked, her tone professional but with a hint of curiosity. You turned to her, a playful glint in your eyes. "Oh, I just needed a moment. It's so hectic out there."

Natasha nodded, her stance relaxed but alert. "You should have thought of that before." You stepped closer, your hand lightly brushing Natasha's arm. "You weren't so grumpy earlier. What's with the attitude now?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but cautious. "I'm not grumpy. I'm just doing my job." You smiled, your hand sliding down to Natasha's waist, your fingers tracing the edge of her pants. “Loosen up a little, it’s fine to be a risky once in a while, Natasha.”

Natasha's eyes darkened with desire as she realized your intentions. "You're giving me a handjob at your premiere. We're thinking of two different versions of risk." You leaned in, your breath warm against Natasha's ear. "Maybe I like my version better." Your hand moved bolder, stroking over the bulge in Natasha's pants. Natasha gasped, but quickly placed her hand over yours to stop your movements. Her grip was firm, and a smirking smile played on her lips as she leaned closer, her voice a soft, seductive whisper.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" Natasha murmured, her breath hot against your ear. "If you keep this up, I'll have you on your knees, begging for more. I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk straight for a week." Your heart raced at Natasha's words, a shiver running down your spine. You felt a mix of excitement and nervousness, your breath hitching.

Natasha stepped back slightly, her eyes meeting yours. "You have no idea what you're getting into, princess." You tried to regain your composure. "Then show me." Natasha's smile turned dangerous and seductive. "Not here. Not now."

Your heart raced, your mind buzzing with anticipation. You stepped back slightly, your eyes meeting Natasha's. "When then?" Natasha's smile was dangerous and seductive. "You'll see." You felt a thrill run through you. You had challenged Natasha, and now you were ready for whatever came next. As you returned to the premiere, the tension between you was palpable, an unspoken promise of things to come.

The premiere went smoothly, but your and Natasha's thoughts were elsewhere. The silent promise you had exchanged hung between you, intensifying every glance, every touch. As the event came to an end, you felt both excited and nervous about what would happen next. Natasha's presence, as always, was a calming force, but now it was charged with a new kind of tension.

As you finally returned to the hotel, you couldn't resist teasing Natasha one last time. "So, what's next, bodyguard? Do you still think I'm playing a dangerous game?" Natasha's eyes were dark with promise as she stepped closer. "Oh, princess, the game has only just begun." You felt a shiver of excitement. "Good. I wouldn't want it any other way."

You turned to head to your room, thinking you had the upper hand. But before you could take more than a few steps, Natasha grabbed your arm and effortlessly swung you over her shoulder. You gasped in surprise as Natasha carried you into the bedroom.

"Natasha! W-What are you doing!?" you exclaimed, your voice a mix of shock and excitement. Natasha didn't answer immediately. Instead, she gave you a quick, firm smack on your butt, making you gasp. "You wanted to play games, princess. Now it's my turn." Your heart raced as Natasha carried you into the bedroom and tossed you onto the bed. Natasha stood at the foot of the bed, removing her jacket and unbuttoning her blouse with deliberate slowness, her eyes never leaving yours.

"You've been teasing me all night," Natasha said, her voice deep and commanding. "Now it's time to show you what happens when you play with fire." You felt a wave of heat wash over you as you watched Natasha undress. You bit your lip, your breath catching in anticipation.

Natasha climbed onto the bed, her movements predatory and deliberate. She leaned over you, her hands pinning your wrists above your head as she kissed you deeply and possessively. You responded eagerly, your body arching into Natasha's. She broke the kiss, her lips brushing your ear. "You belong to me tonight, princess. And I'm going to make sure you remember it."

Your faces were only inches apart, and you could feel Natasha's breath on your skin. The tension between you crackled like electricity, a mix of anger and desire. Your teasing had always been a game to provoke Natasha, but now, faced with the intensity of Natasha's gaze, you realized how far you had pushed her.

"You drive me crazy, Y/N," Natasha whispered, her voice rough. "Now it's my turn." Your heart skipped a beat, your body trembling with anticipation. "Then don't hold back, please.." you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. Natasha's smile widened, and she leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "Oh, I don't plan to."

Natasha's lips crashed onto yours, the kiss fierce and demanding. You responded eagerly, your body arching into Natasha's, your skin tingling with the intensity of the moment. Natasha's hands moved purposefully, one sliding down your side, her fingertips tracing the hem of your dress before slipping underneath.

You gasped into the kiss as Natasha's fingers drew patterns on your skin, sending waves of pleasure through you. You had never experienced such a touch, so firm, so assured. It was as if Natasha knew exactly how to unravel you. "Natasha.." you breathed, your voice trembling with desire. "Please..." Natasha pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her gaze fierce and intense. "Oh, I like that. Please what?" she demanded, her tone commanding.

"Please... more.." you begged, your body aching for Natasha's touch. A satisfied smile spread across Natasha’s face as she obliged, her fingers finding their way to your most sensitive spots, drawing moans and gasps from you that filled the room. Your world narrowed to the sensation of Natasha's touch, your body responding with an intensity you had never known.

Natasha's hands moved expertly, teasing and pleasing you until you trembled with desire. Just as you thought you couldn't take anymore, Natasha pulled back slightly, her gaze dark and full of promise. "You're not ready for what's coming next," Natasha said, her voice deep and husky. She stood up, her movements intentionally slow, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

You watched with wide eyes as Natasha unbuckled her belt, your gaze following her every move. As Natasha's pants fell to the floor, you caught your breath. There, proud and ready, was Natasha's member. Natasha reached into her pocket and pulled out a condom, rolling it on with practiced ease.

"You were prepared," you teased, your voice breathless. "Did you know the night would end like this?" Natasha gave you a sly smile. "I had a feeling. And by the end of the night, you won't have that attitude anymore."

Your body responded to Natasha's words, a mix of excitement and anticipation coursing through you. Natasha climbed back onto the bed, positioning herself between your legs. She leaned in to capture your lips in another searing kiss, her hands roaming over your body, stoking the flames of desire even higher.

As Natasha slowly entered you, you gasped at the sensation, your body arching into hers. The feeling was unlike anything you had ever experienced, a perfect blend of pleasure and connection. Natasha moved with a careful rhythm, watching your reactions to ensure every movement brought you joy. "Do you like that?" Natasha whispered, her voice deep and rough. "Do you like feeling me inside you?"

"Y-Yes, oh God, yes.." you moaned, your hands clutching at Natasha's back, your nails digging into her skin as waves of pleasure washed over you. "Good," Natasha growled, increasing her pace slightly. "Because I'm not stopping until you've learned your lesson." Your breath grew heavy, your moans louder with each thrust. Natasha's lips found your neck, kissing you, making you tremble. Natasha's hand slipped between you, her fingers brushing over your clit in teasing, light touches.

"Natasha!" you gasped, your body jolting at the sudden rush of pleasure. "Please, stop..."

"Just a taste of your own medicine," Natasha murmured, her voice a husky whisper against your skin. She kept her slow, torturous rhythm, her fingers lightly dancing over your sensitive spot, driving you wild with desire. Your frustration mingled with your arousal, the teasing making you desperate. "Please, Natasha... I need more.." you begged, your voice trembling.

Natasha's smile deepened, savoring your pleading. "You need to learn that actions have consequences," she said, her pace increasing, each thrust deeper and harder. "Is this what you wanted, Y/N? To be dominated, made to beg?"

"Yes, yes!" you whimpered, your body arching, seeking more. "Please, Natasha, I need you..“ Seeing your desperation, Natasha finally relented. She increased her pace, her thrusts becoming rougher, harder. Her fingers pressed firmly against your clit, rubbing in perfect rhythm with her movements. "You feel so good," Natasha groaned, her own arousal evident in her voice. "So tight around me. You love being fucked like this, don't you?"

„God.." you cried, your body shaking with the intensity of your pleasure. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

"I'm not," Natasha promised, her voice rough with desire. She began slowly, her thrusts gentle and deliberate, giving you time to adjust to the new sensation. Each movement was measured, designed to build the pleasure slowly. Her fingers pressed firmly against your clit, rubbing in perfect rhythm with her movements. "You feel so good," Natasha groaned, her own arousal evident in her voice. "So tight around me. I told you how it would end."

"Oh God!" you cried, your body shaking with the intensity of your pleasure. "Don't stop, please don't stop..“ Natasha's breath came heavy, her movements becoming more urgent. "You're going to take everything I give you," she growled. "And you're going to love it." Natasha's eyes burned with a mix of desire and something deeper. "Turn around," she commanded, her voice rough. "I want to take you from behind."

You complied, your body trembling with anticipation. Natasha positioned herself behind you, her hands gripping your hips firmly. With one swift motion, Natasha entered you again, the new angle sending a fresh wave of pleasure through your body. "God, you feel so good," Natasha groaned, her pace rough and relentless. "Do you like this, Y/N? Do you like being fucked like this?"

"Yes, Natasha, y-yees.." you cried, your body pushing back against each thrust. "Harder, please, harder..“ Natasha's grunts filled the room, her movements becoming more powerful, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. "Fuck, what would your fans say if they saw you like this?" she growled.

Your world was a whirl of sensations, your body burning with pleasure. "Please, please, please!" you gasped, your voice breaking with need. "Please, I'm so close.."

Natasha's hands slid to your shoulders, pulling you back with each thrust, her pace unrelenting. "I want to see your face when you come," Natasha demanded, her voice rough. You turned, your eyes meeting Natasha's intense gaze. Natasha didn't break the connection, her thrusts deep and powerful, her eyes locked on yours. "You're so beautiful," Natasha murmured, her voice filled with raw emotion. "Come for me, Y/N. I want to see you come."

Your body obeyed, the intensity of Natasha's gaze and the power of her movements driving you over the edge. You called out Natasha's name, your body trembling with the force of your orgasm, your eyes never leaving Natasha's. She followed you, her own orgasm hitting her hard, her body tensing with the release. She held you close, your bodies entwined, the intensity of your connection overwhelming.

When it was over, Natasha collapsed beside you, both of you breathing heavily, your bodies slick with sweat. You looked up at Natasha, your eyes shining with gratitude and something deeper. "That was... incredible," you whispered, your voice shaking. Natasha smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You're incredible," she replied softly, her touch now tender, filled with affection.

You snuggled into Natasha's embrace, feeling safe. You had challenged Natasha, teased her, but now you understood the depth of it and the passion that lay beneath your banter. It was a night you would indeed never forget.

The next morning, the sunlight filtered gently through the curtains of your hotel room, casting a warm glow across the bed. You stirred slowly, a pleasant ache in your muscles reminding you of the intense connection you had shared with Natasha the previous night. A contented smile spread across your face as you replayed the events in your mind. The way Natasha had made you feel cherished and desired was unlike anything you had experienced before.

As you stretched lazily, you noticed Natasha already up and moving around the room, her movements efficient and purposeful as she dressed in her black uniform. Still feeling the warmth of the night, you sat up and instinctively pulled the blanket around you.

Natasha caught sight of your movement and smirked. "You don't have to hide under the blanket, princess," she teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I've already seen everything." You felt a blush rise to your cheeks but managed a small smile. "Force of habit, I guess." Natasha chuckled softly and walked over to the bed, sitting down beside you. She reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. "How are you feeling?"

You leaned into her touch, savoring the intimacy. "Good. Better than good, actually." Natasha's smile softened, and she pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "Good. We've got a busy day ahead. Remember, it's the final interview for the film today." You nodded, the reality of the day settling in. "Right. The last interview." Natasha's eyes searched yours, a hint of concern flickering in them. "Are you ready for it?"

You sighed, feeling a pang of anxiety. "I think so. Just... nervous, I guess." Natasha squeezed your hand reassuringly. "You'll do great. And I'll be right there with you."

As Natasha continued getting ready, you reached for your phone on the nightstand. Unlocking it, you saw a barrage of notifications. Among the messages was one from a close friend, marked urgent. Curiosity piqued, you opened the message thread.

The message read: "Y/N, have you seen these articles? Be careful with Natasha Romanoff. She's got a reputation." Attached were several links to articles and gossip columns detailing Natasha's past relationships, her numerous one-night stands, and her professional life as a bodyguard. The headlines screamed warnings about her dangerous allure and the trail of broken hearts she had left behind.

Your heart sank as you scrolled through the articles, each one chipping away at the happiness you had felt just moments before. The friend’s message continued: "I just don't want to see you get hurt. She might be good at her job, but she's also known for not sticking around."

Natasha's teasing smile from this morning flashed in your mind: "You don't have to hide under the blanket, princess. I've already seen everything." What if you were just another conquest for her? The memory of her passionate words from last night seemed suddenly tainted "You belong to me tonight, princess. And I'm going to make sure you remember it."

Natasha noticed the shift in your expression and the way you had gone quiet, your eyes glued to your phone. "Y/N, is everything okay?" she asked, concern lacing her voice. You quickly locked your phone and forced a smile. "Yeah, just... some messages." But the seed of doubt had been planted. Despite your efforts to focus, the words from the articles lingered in your mind. Was last night just another notch on Natasha's belt?

As you got ready, Natasha left you alone for a moment to gather your thoughts. The anxiety gnawed at you, turning the warmth you had felt into a cold pit in your stomach.

The day passed in a blur of preparations and travel to the interview location. Your mind kept drifting back to the articles, the warnings, the doubt. By the time you arrived at the studio, the unease had settled deep within you.

When the time for the interview finally arrived, you found yourself sitting in a brightly lit studio, facing a well-known interviewer. The cameras rolled, and the interview began. You tried to concentrate, but your mind kept wandering, haunted by the headlines and Natasha's reputation. "So, Y/N, this film has been a huge success. How has the journey been for you?" You forced a smile, trying to gather your thoughts. "It's been incredible. The cast and crew were amazing, and I learned so much."

But even as you spoke, you couldn't shake the memory of Natasha's voice from last night"Do you like feeling me inside you?"

"Can you share any particularly memorable moments from the set?" You hesitated, your mind momentarily blank. "Uh, there were so many great moments. I think... the camaraderie we shared off-camera was really special."

Natasha's teasing smile from this morning flashed in your mind "You don't have to hide under the blanket, princess. I've already seen everything."

"What are your plans after this film? Any new projects in the pipeline?" You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. "I'm exploring a few options, but nothing's set in stone yet."

Natasha's concern earlier replayed in your mind "Are you ready for it?" The interview continued, but your responses grew increasingly mechanical. Natasha, standing just off-camera, noticed the shift in your demeanor. Her brow furrowed with concern as she watched you, sensing something was wrong. She began to worry that she had overstepped last night, that perhaps she had pushed you too far.

When the interview finally concluded, you left the studio feeling drained and unsettled. Natasha was by your side immediately, her eyes filled with worry. "Y/N, what's wrong?" Natasha asked, her voice gentle yet urgent. "Did something happen during the interview?"

You shook your head, avoiding her gaze. "No, it's not that. I just... need some space right now." Natasha's heart clenched at your words. She followed you silently back to the hotel, the worry gnawing at her. Had she misread the signals? Had she taken things too far last night? The thought of having hurt you in any way made her feel sick.

Back in the hotel room, you sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. Natasha hovered nearby, her concern evident "Y/N, please talk to me," Natasha said softly. "I can't help if I don't know what's wrong." You took a deep breath, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm.. scared, Natasha..“

Natasha's heart ached at the vulnerability in your voice. She stepped closer, her hand gently cupping your cheek. "Scared of what? Talk to me, please." You finally met her gaze, the tears spilling over. "I'm scared that last night... that it was just a one-time thing for you. That you only wanted me for my body."

Natasha's eyes widened in shock, and she immediately knelt in front of you, taking your hands in hers. "W-What?“ You reluctantly lifted your gaze to hers, seeing the sincerity and depth of her feelings reflected in her eyes. "Last night was not just a one-time thing for me," Natasha said firmly. "I didn't just want you for your body. You mean so much more to me than that."

You searched her eyes, your voice trembling. "But what if... what if this changes things between us? What if it's just a fling?" Natasha shook her head, her grip on your hands gentle but steady. "It won't be. Because I care about you, Y/N. More than I've cared about anyone in a long time. Last night meant everything to me, and I don't want it to end there." Tears flowed freely now, and Natasha wiped them away with her thumbs, her gaze never leaving yours.

"But what about all these articles and rumors about you?" you asked, the fear and doubt still lingering in your voice. "They say you've had so many one-night stands and relationships that didn't last. How do I know I'm not just another one?" Natasha sighed deeply, her expression turning serious. "Do you remember the actress you met at the restroom at the Gala?" You nodded, recalling the striking woman who had seemed so authoritative.

"Her name is Jessica," Natasha continued. "We were in a relationship a few month ago. It was toxic and manipulative. When I finally managed to leave her, she was furious. She threatened to ruin my reputation if I ever left her." Natasha pulled out her phone and showed you a message thread. "Here, look at this." She scrolled to a particular message and handed you the phone. The message read:

"If you leave, I will destroy your life, your reputation, everything, Natasha. No one will ever trust you again."

You felt a chill run down your spine as you read the words. Natasha's voice was steady but filled with pain. "She's the one who started those rumors and spread the articles. I'm already taking legal action against her, but these things take time."

You looked up at Natasha, seeing the sincerity and anguish in her eyes. "I had no idea..." Natasha cupped your face gently. "I would never use you, Y/N. What we have is real, and I want to protect it. Protect you. Please believe me."

You searched her eyes, feeling the sincerity in her words. "But how can I be sure?" Natasha's grip on your hands tightened, her gaze unwavering. "Because I'm standing here, telling you this. I'm not going anywhere, Y/N. I want to be with you, not just for a night, but for as long as you'll have me."

You felt a flood of relief and emotion wash over you. "I want that too, Natasha. I just... I needed to know." Natasha pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close. "You don't have to be afraid. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." You clung to her, feeling the warmth and strength of her presence. The fear and doubt that had plagued you melted away in the face of Natasha's unwavering support.

As the day continued, you felt a renewed sense of connection and understanding with Natasha. The bond between you had deepened, forged through honesty and vulnerability. With the whirlwind of your film promotion tour finally over, you felt a mix of relief and excitement as you arrived back at your home. For the first time in months, you had some well-deserved time off. Natasha, your steadfast bodyguard, was right by your side as you walked through the front door of your cozy house.

"Home sweet home.." you sighed, dropping your bags and stretching your arms. The familiar surroundings brought a sense of peace that you had missed during your hectic schedule.

Natasha smiled, leaning against the doorway. "It's nice to see you relax." You turned to her, a question lingering in your mind. "So, what happens now? Do you move on to another client with a tour or something?" Natasha raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. "Actually, I took some time off too."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Really? You took time off to stay here?" Natasha nodded, stepping closer. "Yes, I wanted to spend more time with you. I meant what I said a few days ago, Y/N."

A wave of warmth and happiness washed over you. "You really do care," you whispered, feeling your heart swell with affection. Natasha cupped your face gently, her eyes soft and sincere. "I care a lot, and I want to make the most of this time we have together."

The next few days were blissful. You and Natasha spent time just enjoying each other's company, something you hadn't been able to do during the tour. The bond between you grew stronger, built on trust and genuine affection. One lazy afternoon, as you lounged on the couch together, you started discussing potential vacation destinations. "We should go somewhere special," you suggested, scrolling through various travel websites on your laptop. "How about a trip to a secluded beach resort? Just the two of us."

Natasha leaned in, looking at the screen. "That sounds perfect." You found a beautiful resort that offered private bungalows by the ocean and various activities for couples. "This one looks amazing," you said excitedly. "Let me book it."

Before you could click the "book now" button, the doorbell rings, "Food is here!" You sprint over and meanwhile Natasha took the laptop and made the booking. When you come back with two pizza boxes, you pouted playfully. "Hey! I wanted to pay for it!“ Natasha chuckled, pulling you into her arms. "I know, but I wanted to do this for us." You gave her a mock glare. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Natasha silenced you with a gentle kiss, her lips soft and tender against yours. "Shush," she whispered against your lips. "Let me take care of you for once." You melted into her embrace, feeling the love and care she poured into every touch and kiss. "Okay," you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips. "I guess I can let you spoil me this time."

The anticipation of your upcoming trip added an extra layer of excitement to your days. You spent your time planning activities and daydreaming about the sun, sand, and sea. The more you got to know Natasha in this relaxed setting, the more you realized how deeply you felt for her. As the departure date for your vacation approached, you and Natasha packed your bags with a mix of excitement and eagerness. The thought of being in a beautiful, secluded place with her made your heart race.

Finally, the day arrived, and you both boarded the plane to your dream destination. The flight was smooth, filled with laughter and light conversations about the adventures you planned to have. Upon landing, you were greeted with warm ocean breezes and the sound of waves crashing on the shore.

Your bungalow was even more beautiful than the pictures, nestled right on the beach with a stunning view of the turquoise waters. As you stepped inside, you felt a sense of tranquility wash over you. "This is perfect," you sighed, looking out at the ocean from the large windows. Natasha wrapped her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder. "It really is. I'm glad we're here together."

You turned in her arms, looking up at her with a smile. "Me too. Thank you for everything, Natasha." She leaned down and kissed you softly. "Anything for you, Princess." The days that followed were filled with pure bliss. You and Natasha spent your time exploring the beach, swimming in the crystal-clear waters, and enjoying romantic dinners under the stars. Each moment felt like a precious gift, strengthening the bond you shared.

[clarionglass]

here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!

---

sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)

Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 

He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?

He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.

He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.

“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”

“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.

---

Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.

With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.

“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.

“Sure!”

“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”

Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 

And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 

“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”

Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”

“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”

“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”

“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.

Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 

“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.

---

The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.

“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.

The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.

“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”

The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”

Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.

“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”

Grant didn’t look convinced, but—

“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.

Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.

“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”

Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”

“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”

He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.

“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”

He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”

“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”

Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 

“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 

“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”

Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”

“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”

“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 

The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 

“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”

Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”

“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”

Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”

“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 

“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”

“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”

“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”

Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 

“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”

His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 

“Good luck.”

---

Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.

Showtime.

“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”

Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.

“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”

The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?

“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”

Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.

“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”

“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 

As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.

“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”

“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”

“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 

“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 

“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”

The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.

“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”

He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”

When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”

Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.

Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”

“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”

Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.

“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”

“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”

The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 

It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 

Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 

“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”

For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 

And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.

The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”

“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.

The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 

It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.

“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”

A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.

“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”

“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”

“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.

“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.

In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.

Nobody moved.

“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”

Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.

Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.

The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”

Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”

The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”

Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”

“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”

He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”

It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.

“You can’t be,” he breathed. 

Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.

“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”

The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 

“Master.”

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!

[delicatefury]

Look. I have literally no horse in this race when it comes to the WGA/SAG Hollywood strike. I do not watch enough TV or movies to be affected and I’m not a part of the industry. I really haven’t cared.

As a lawyer and orchardist, however, I am now utterly entranced by the fact that some Universal Studios exec thought it was a good idea to cut down city-owned trees in the middle of summer.

There is no way to get around the absolute clusterfuck they have brought down upon themselves.

First, the ownership question. These trees are not owned by Universal. They’re the City of Los Angeles’ trees. That means the responsibility, and the right, to maintain them belongs to the city government. If you want to touch city property like that, you better have their permission. If not, you’re looking at anything from fines, to replacement/maintenance costs, to jail time.

Now, I don’t know LA, and I’m not licensed in California, but a lot of cities also require permits for any massive trimming like that that can affect public property (like the roads and sidewalks).

Second, they have zero excuses that can even remotely minimize the trouble they’re in. Anything that justifies that kind of pruning at this time of year would have likely required the full removal and destruction of the trees.

Because that level of pruning? You don’t do that in summer. You absolutely do not do that in summer unless the trees are dying or infested with something. Why? Because summer is healthy growth time. Summer is when your trees need all the energy they can get so they can grow and strengthen their branches and roots.

It’s also when they’re susceptible to diseases. Various bacteria, fungi, and insects strike during the summer and can cause severe damage. By trimming those trees so severely, not only are there a ton of gapping wounds for diseases to enter the tree, they’re now stressed by trying to replace that lost growth, which makes it even harder for them to survive any further damage.

Basically, Universal Studios might end up accidentally killing the trees. Which will make everything so much worse.

So, yeah. Now I’m invested.

[fans4wga]

Strike Support Declining - Here's how you can continue to support the writers

Since the WGA strike started on May 2, the public has shown immense support for the writers—sending food, snacks, drinks, and encouragement from across the world all the way to Los Angeles, New York, and other picketing locations.

But loud and vocal strike support—in the news and in public spaces—is notably declining the longer the strike goes on. So we're bringing you a few ways to show writers, studios, and fellow fans: we're still here, and we still stand with the WGA.

1. Post on Twitter (and other social media sites)

You might think social media noise won't be noticed by the studios, but it CAN encourage individual WGA members—and slowly but surely put pressure on the studios to make a fair deal.

If you follow WGA members such as Adam Conover (Adam Ruins Everything), John Rogers (Leverage, Librarians), Gennifer Hutchison (Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul), Javier Grillo-Marxuach (Lost, The Witcher) [and many many more you can find through their following lists], tell them you support them! Hashtag #IStandWithTheWGA #DoTheWriteThing and tell them that you and your fandom are prepared to support them as long as the strike lasts; that they deserve to have their demands met and you're with them all the way. Boost morale however and whenever you can!

Likewise, actively push back against misinformation/disinformation. See a TikTok claiming that all Hollywood writers are filthy rich and we shouldn't vocally support them? Correct it with well-sourced citations from the WGA, published news articles, and stories from those affected (like the time a writer on FX's The Bear attended the an awards show with his bank account balance in the negative, only to then win an award for Best Comedy Series—proving that good writers on award-winning shows still cannot make a living!)

Remember you can always link to Adam Conover's excellent explanation of WGA demands versus studio refusals, tweeted here.

2. Donate or boost fundraisers

You might be surprised to learn that the picketing locations are not always parties! Sometimes themed pickets are fun, and fandoms and celebrities occasionally are able to fundraise for a food truck or ice cream truck at picketing locations. However, that is the EXCEPTION and not the norm. Writers are asking for food & drinks at many locations.

There are many funds to donate to, and it can be overwhelming to pick one! But one that could use your support RIGHT NOW is the CBS Radford picket line:

-If you're in LA, you can bring food and snacks directly to that picket line (or get food deliveries sent there, with instructions to be given to the strike captain on duty.) Strike locations are available on the WGA West website and are updated there.

-Or there's a pizza fund for the strike locations (unfortunately Venmo is a US-only donation option)

-If you're not in LA, donate to the Entertainment Community Fund to support TV and film workers affected by the strike.

-More tips on donating to the strike in this great article!

-Lots of fandoms are organizing donations on their own, for instance the Our Flag Means Death fundraiser on Paypal (updated 30 July 2023 with new link) (available internationally). Check to see if your fandom has started a fundraiser... or start one yourself to show your support! We're happy to give tips on organizing your fandom!

As always, please boost this post and any and all well-sourced information that comes from the WGA or its members. We're happy to fact-check anything you send our way too.

[sweetteainthesummerx]

|◁ II ▷| down bad ! |◁ II ▷|

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

nhl masterlist !

pairing: quinn hughes x famous singer! reader

warnings: fluff, smut is implied but not graphic!! use of y/n.

summary: your sister sends you an article of you and quinn being absolutely down bad for each other...

word count: 2.4 k

notes: saw one too many edits of my handsome boy on TikTok and this is the consequence :) also, this is sort of based off of taylor swift and travis kelce. enjoy!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

you're finishing up in the studio, just done tweaking one of your last songs on your new album when your phone dings! with a notification.

it's your sister, who sends a trail of emojis that don't really make sense and a link.

you press on it, confused and assuming it's something she wants for her birthday that's coming up soon.

instead it's an article that reads, TOP TEN FAN FAVOURITE MOMENTS OF NHL AND THE MUSIC INDUSTRY'S ROYAL COUPLE.

you laugh, because the cover photo is one of you and quinn from last year when you took him as your plus one to the grammy's. you have to admit, you both look really good, and so, so in love.

so you nestle into your chair to read it.

TOP TEN FAN FAVOURITE MOMENTS OF NHL AND THE MUSIC INDUSTRY'S ROYAL COUPLE

one of Hollywood's up and comings, y/n l/n and quinn hughes of canucks and nhl fame have been dating for over three years, and have been public for two. we have complied a list of fan favourite moments of the couple over the span of their relationship that show their deep (and public) affection and love for each other

10. 2023 Grammy's Award Ceremony

picture: you are wearing a light blue floor length gown, hair loose and curled. your makeup is simple and glowy. quinn stands next to you, in a clean, slate grey suit with a hand wrapped around your hip, fingers nestled in the dip of your hipbone.

the award ceremony for the grammy's - where y/n won best album for the second year in a row - was when the famous couple first went public officially, not counting the many paparazzi pictures taken in both vancouver and Los Angeles.

sources show that the two could hardly keep their hands off of each other. they were seen kissing multiple times through out the night.

it was true, quinn had been extra handsy that night, and had all but ripped that dress off of you when you got back to the hotel. you sigh at the memory, stomach warm and a little achy. you can't wait for him to come back from the roadie he left for only two days ago.

9. y/n's tiktoks

despite their massive success in their respective industries, it is easy to forget that they are also part of gen z. y/n's TikTok page features fashion, her music and most popular of all, her boyfriend. here are only some of her most viewed and liked videos:

video one: you smile into the camera, fluffing your hair in a close shot. the subtitles read: fit check with my bf! quinn pulls you against him by your waist, kissing your face over and over as you laugh, pushing at his chest. over the song, you tell him to let go so you can show your outfits. he lets go reluctantly but holds your hand, spinning you around to show off your sundress. then he grabs you and dips you low, hands dangerously close to your ass, as you giggle into his cheek.

video two: the video is taken by one of your friends who took your phone. she's on the couch and you and quinn are in the kitchen cooking for the small get together in your vancouver apartment. you lean up to smile at him, and he bumps his nose with yours. some trending love song plays in the back.

you flush at the comments gushing about how he looks at you, the height difference and how cute you guys are. there's something so sweet at seeing the two of you from an outsiders perspective.

8. quinn knowing y/n's entire discography

during media days, one interview has elias petterson and quinn hughes guessing songs and the artists. the journalist managed to sneak at least four of y/n's songs in, quinn getting all four correct, with the full name of the song, name of artist and then album, all under 10 seconds of the song playing. now that's a supportive boyfriend!

you watch the video linked, your boyfriend sweaty and hair wet. the media person is impressed, and quinn just shrugs bashfully and offers a crooked smile. you look at the time stamp and bite a grin: it's from before you guys went public. no wonder all of your fans say you guys were obvious.

7. quinn hughes: nhl player and personal bodyguard

fame in hollywood forces many in the industry to have body guards, and y/n is not exempt. for many years before she started dating the canuck's defensemen, she's had many bodyguards following her around. now, it seems like her boyfriend has taken over that job.

video: your body guard, john moves to open the limo door as you and quinn arrive to an event, but your boyfriend crosses from his side of the car to open it himself, patting john on the shoulder and gently pushing him from the entrance and helping you out himself. he helps you balance on your heels as you stand and wave at the cameras, one hand on your waist as he maneuvers you to the other side of the sidewalk so he can block you from the cars. he keeps your hand cradled in his, his other arm around your waist as he shoulders through the paparazzi.

quinn looks so attractive and so masculine in this video. you've never had boyfriends who took princess treatment so seriously, but quinn has always been a defender, on ice and off. it was a little awkward and it took a long a while for him to get you, but ever since he had you, he's made sure he tried his very best to keep and protect you.

6. getaway in hawaii

although the couple hasn't had any announcement of engagement yet, early last year they were sighted in hawaii on a trip eerily like a honeymoon: here are some pictures.

picture one: you're in a tiny pink bikini and he's in board shorts. he's taken off his hat to give to you, and you're pressing on a pair of your too-small sunglasses onto his face while both of you laugh.

picture two: the two of you are standing in the water up to your calves. he's got his fingers tangled in the strings of your bikini bottoms, and yours are on his chest as the two of you look into the horizon.

picture three: quinn has you balanced on his shoulder, smiling as you clutch at his back. one of his forearms is possessively covering your ass from the camera, and his other hand is wrapped fully around your ankle to give you a semblance of balance.

you still smile every time you think of that trip, afternoons playing in the water, romantic dinners and nights with his head between your legs, your fingers tangled in his hair. you silently remind yourself to book a vacation back there the next time both of you are free.

5. the NHL award ceremony

the recent NHL award ceremony when quinn hughes received the James Norris award for his skills as a defenceman gave us another peek into y/n's relationship with hughes family.

video one: you're sitting between quinn and luke in your pretty dark blue gown. your hair is pulled back from your face the way quinn likes. he's got an arm thrown over the back of the seat, fingers rubbing your shoulder as you talk to Luke about his hair routine. quinn murmurs something the camera can't catch into your ear and you laugh, tucking your hand into the his that's resting on his lap. he leans back, stretching his legs as you absentmindedly rub his knee, leaning over his brothers to talk to his mom.

video two: his name is called, and you stand with him, clapping loudly. he hugs you first, and you press a kiss into the corner of his lip, but he plants a firm, real one on yours. your manicured, white nails contrast against the black expanse of his suit and broad back. you push him gently towards luke. when he's finished hugging everyone and comes back down the aisle, you quickly fix his tie and smooth down his lapels. he kisses your cheek again and goes down to the stage.

photo three: the trophy is in the middle, the whole family wrapped together. you're tucked between ellen, the older woman has an arm around your waist and your boyfriend's got is arm slung across you shoulders on you other side, everyone smiling big for the camera.

you still remember ellen and jim insisting that you get in the photo, because "you're practically family anyways," and "it's any day now" that their son proposes to you. the photo is on their fridge, to this day.

4. quinn's y/n shirt

another video from y/n's tiktok. during the christmas season, she spent the holidays with the hughes family. her future brother in law (hopefully), jack hughes got quinn a pretty special present.

video: jack is holding the camera, and it pans to you and quinn. your holding a giant sushi stuffed toy (long story) from luke on your lap as you sit next to your boyfriend.

"here," he extends a hand holding a bag to his older brother.

Quinn smiles in thanks and digs into it, retrieving shirt. but it's no ordinary shirt. it's one of those old, retro looking ones with your face blown out all over it.

pictures from red carpets, your album covers, and in gaudy, shadowy text, it reads: IF LOST, RETURN TO Y/N L/N.

Luke cackles as you bury your face in quinn's shoulder. he's letting out a deep, belly laugh as his parents smile and take pictures of it when he holds it out.

he immediately pulls off his sweatshirt and tugs the shirt on. it fits a little tight.

"merry christmas!" jack yells as he gives you a high-five.

he still wears that stupid shirt around the apartment, just because he knows you like the fit and your face plastered all over his chest.

3. y/n's songs about her boyfriend

through many new releases, we have determined a list of songs about quinn from her new album, lover.

sweet nothing

paper rings

lover

daylight

I think he knows

afterglow

good looking

wow, you think. these people must not have lives if they're rummaging through your digital footprint and media presence with your boyfriend just to link them with your songs.

2. quinn's interview

since the couple has gone public, y/n has been seen at Canuck's games with family and friends. since she's from vancouver, born and raised, she is passionate about hockey and fits right in.

video one: the jumbotron flashes your face an name; you're wearing quinn's canucks jersey, hair loose. you smile and flutter your fingers at the crowd that's going crazy. one the ice, quinn's teammates jostle and holler at him, and you blow him a kiss. he pretends to catch it, and the screaming in the stadium reaches a new level as the screen pans to him: he's pink and all smiley.

video two: the ref makes a call and you stand, throwing your hands up in the air, exasperated. you huff, sitting back down with your head in your hands. your friends watch on with disappointment, and the three of you let out complains.

video three: quinn grins while looking off camera in the middle of an interview, and the journalist laughs.

"your girl?" he asks, and quinn nods shyly.

"yeah, it's real nice to see her here supporting. I mean, she's really busy too with her tours, but it's nice to have her on my turf."

"I saw! she got really riled up for the penalty during the second period. she's wearing your jersey as well."

"yeah," he scratches his neck, scrunching his nose to hide the big ass smile on his face, "she looks great, eh?"

"glad to see her in her hometown, too."

"right. yeah, I love her so much."

you snicker at how love sick he looks, because early on in the relationship he followed you around like a clingy, lost puppy. he still does sometimes after a roadie or one of your tours. you love it.

1. karma is the guy on the rink, coming straight home to me

the internet broke when y/n changed one of the songs on her song list for her tour last year at rogers arena in vancouver: instead of "karma is the guy on the screen, coming straight home to me", which is a reference to her ex, she changes it to better fix her new romance.

video: you dance through the song, your backup dancers clueless as you reach the line.

"karma is the guy on the rink, comin' straight home to me!" your voice breaks a little in a giggle at the end, your dancers shocked laughter and gasps visible from their faces that even an iPhone camera from 25 meters away can catch.

video two: quinn's in the tent with your parents and some of his teammates and their girlfriends, all of them are vibing to the music and dancing, most holding drinks in their hands.

when the line hits the speakers, everyone is screaming so loud and filming him, and he blushes so red that it spreads to his ears and neck, even in the dim light. his boys are slapping his back, and your dad gives him a high-five. he just smiles at you, dopey and deliriously happy in his shirt of your face and the 20 friendship bracelets your fans had made for him.

you remember that show perfectly, and the night after even better. you barely got any sleep because of his attentions, and your makeup artists spent nearly half an hour covering up the bruises on your neck and chest the next morning.

all in all, we can come to the conclusion that quinn hughes and y/n l/n are completely down bad for each other, like she teased in the song list of her unreleased album. we only hope for good things in the future for this famous couple!

you smile at the closing statement, sending it to quinn to read later in his hotel room.

he facetimes you that night, hair wet and eyes sleepy.

"that article was absolutely right. I am so down bad for you." he tells you seriously, with the promise of lots of love when he comes straight home to you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

"Efficiency" left the Big Three vulnerable to smart UAW tactics

Tomorrow (September 22), I'm (virtually) presenting at the DIG Festival in Modena, Italy. Tomorrow night, I'll be in person at LA's Book Soup for the launch of Justin C Key's "The World Wasn’t Ready for You." On September 27, I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine.

It's been 143 days since the WGA went on strike against the Hollywood studios. While early tactical leaks from the studios had studio execs chortling and twirling their mustaches about writers caving once they started losing their homes, the strikers aren't wavering – they're still out there, pounding the picket lines, every weekday:

https://www.cnbc.com/2023/08/09/how-hollywood-writers-make-ends-meet-100-days-into-the-writers-guild-strike.html

The studios obviously need writers. That gleeful, anonymous studio exec who got such an obvious erotic charge at the thought of workers being rendered homeless as punishment for challenging his corporate power completely misread the room, and his comments didn't demoralize the writers. Instead, they inspired the actors to go on strike, too.

But how have the writers stayed out since May Day? How have the actors stayed out for 69 days since their strike started on Bastille Day? We can thank the studios for that! As it turns out, the studios have devoted so much energy to rendering creative workers as precarious as possible, hiring as little as they can getting away with and using punishing overtime as a substitute for adequate staffing that they've eliminated all the workers who can't survive on side-hustles and savings for six or seven months at a time.

But even for those layoff-hardened workers, long strikes are brutal, and of course, all the affiliated trades, from costumers to grips, are feeling the pain. The strike fund only goes so far, and non-striking, affected workers don't even get that. That's why I've been donating regularly to the Entertainment Community Fund, which helps all affected workers out with cash transfers (I just gave them another $500):

https://secure2.convio.net/afa/site/Donation2?df_id=8117&8117.donation=form1&mfc_pref=T

As hot labor summer is revealed as a turning point – not just a season – long strikes will become the norm. Bosses still don't believe in worker power, and until they get their minds right, they're going to keep on trying to starve their workforces back inside. To get a sense of how long workers will have to hold out, just consider the Warrior Met strike, where Alabama coal-miners stayed out for 23 months:

https://www.thenation.com/article/activism/warrior-met-strike-union/

As Kim Kelly explained to Adam Conover in the latest Factually podcast, the Alabama coal strikers didn't get anywhere near the attention that the Hollywood strikers have enjoyed:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UvyMHf7Yg0Q

(To learn more about the untold story of worker organizing, from prison unions to the key role that people of color and women played in labor history, check out Kelly's book, "Fight Like Hell," now in paperback:)

https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Fight-Like-Hell/Kim-Kelly/9781982171063

Which brings me to the UAW strike. This is an historic strike, the first time that the UAW has struck all of the Big Three automakers at once. Past autoworkers' strikes have marked turning points for all American workers. The 1945/46 GM strike established employers' duty to cover worker pensions, health care, and cost of living allowances. The GM strike created the American middle-class:

https://prospect.org/labor/2023-09-18-uaw-strikes-built-american-middle-class/

The Big Three are fighting for all the marbles here. They are refusing to allow unions to organize EV factories. Given that no more internal combustion cars will be in production in just a few short years, that's tantamount to eliminating auto unions altogether. The automakers are flush with cash, including billions in public subsidies from multiple bailouts, along with billions more from greedflation price-gouging. A long siege is inevitable, as the decimillionaires running these companies earn their pay by starving out their workers:

https://www.businessinsider.com/general-motors-ceo-mary-barra-salary-auto-workers-strike-uaw-2023-9

The UAW knows this, of course, and their new leadership – helmed by the union's radical president Shawn Fain – has a plan. UAW workers are engaged in tactical striking, shutting down key parts of the supply chain on a rolling basis, making the 90-day strike fund stretch much farther:

https://prospect.org/blogs-and-newsletters/tap/2023-09-18-labors-militant-creativity/

In this project, they are greatly aided by Big Car's own relentless pursuit of profit. The automakers – like every monopolized, financialized sector – have stripped all the buffers and slack out of their operations. Inventory on hand is kept to a bare minimum. Inputs are sourced from the cheapest bidder, and they're brought to the factory by the lowest-cost option. Resiliency – spare parts, backup machinery – is forever at war with profits, and profits have won and won and won, leaving auto production in a brittle, and easily shattered state.

This is especially true for staffing. Automakers are violently allergic to hiring workers, because new workers get benefits and workplace protection. Instead, the car companies routinely offer "voluntary" overtime to their existing workforce. By refusing this overtime, workers can kneecap production, without striking.

Enter "Eight and Skate," a campaign among UAW workers to clock out after their eight hour shift. As Keith Brower Brown writes for Labor Notes, the UAW organizers are telling workers that "It’s crossing an unofficial picket line to work overtime. It’s helping out the company":

https://labornotes.org/2023/09/work-extra-during-strike-auto-workers-say-eight-and-skate

Eight and Skate has already started to work; the Buffalo Ford plant can no longer run its normal weekend shifts because workers are refusing to put in voluntary overtime. Of course, bosses will strike back: the next step will be forced overtime, which will lead to the unsafe conditions that unionized workers are contractually obliged to call paid work-stoppages over, shutting down operations without touching the strike fund.

What's more, car bosses can't just halt safety stoppages or change the rules on overtime; per the UAW's last contract, bosses are required to bargain on changes to overtime rules:

https://uaw.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/Working-Without-Contract-FAQ-FINAL-2.pdf

Car bosses have become lazily dependent on overtime. At GM's "highly profitable" SUV factory in Arlington, TX, normal production runs a six-days, 24 hours per day. Workers typically work five eight-hour days and nine hours on Saturdays. That's been the status quo for 11 years, but when bosses circulated the usual overtime signup sheet last week, every worker wrote "a big fat NO" next to their names.

Writing for The American Prospect, David Dayen points out that this overtime addiction puts a new complexion on the much-hyped workerpocalypse that EVs will supposedly bring about. EVs are much simpler to build than conventional cars, the argument goes, so a US transition to EVs will throw many autoworkers out of work:

https://prospect.org/labor/2023-09-20-big-threes-labor-shortages-uaw/

But the reality is that most autoworkers are doing one and a half jobs already. Reducing the "workforce" by a third could leave all these workers with their existing jobs, and the 40-hour workweek that their forebears fought for at GM inn 1945/46. Add to that the additional workers needed to make batteries, build and maintain charging infrastructure, and so on, and there's no reason to think that EVs will weaken autoworker power.

And as Dayen points out, this overtime addiction isn't limited to cars. It's also endemic to the entertainment industry, where writers' "mini rooms" and other forms of chronic understaffing are used to keep workforces at a skeleton crew, even when the overtime costs more than hiring new workers.

Bosses call themselves job creators, but they have a relentless drive to destroy jobs. If there's one thing bosses hate, it's paying workers – hence all the hype about AI and automation. The stories about looming AI-driven mass unemployment are fairy tales, but they're tailor made for financiers who get alarming, life-threatening priapism at the though of firing us all and replacing us with shell-scripts:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/09/autocomplete-worshippers/#the-real-ai-was-the-corporations-that-we-fought-along-the-way

This is why Republican "workerism" rings so hollow. Trump's GOP talks a big game about protecting "workers" (by which they mean anglo men) from immigrants and "woke captialism," but they have nothing to say about protecting workers from bosses and bankers who see every dime a worker gets as misappropriated from their dividend.

Unsurprisingly, conservative message-discipline sucks. As Luke Savage writes in Jacobin, for every mealymouthed Josh Hawley mouthing talking points that "support workers" by blaming China and Joe Biden for the Big Three's greed, there's a Tim Scott, saying the quiet part aloud:

https://jacobin.com/2023/09/republicans-uaw-strike-hawley-trump-scott/

Quoth Senator Scott: "I think Ronald Reagan gave us a great example when federal employees decided they were going to strike. He said, you strike, you’re fired. Simple concept to me. To the extent that we can use that once again, absolutely":

https://twitter.com/American_Bridge/status/1704136706574741988

The GOP's workerism is a tissue-thin fake. They can never and will never support real worker power. That creates an opportunity for Biden and Democrats to seize:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/18/co-determination/#now-make-me-do-it

Reversing two generations of anti-worker politics is a marathon, not a sprint. The strikes are going to run for months, even years. Every worker will be called upon to support their striking siblings, every day. We can do it. Solidarity now. Solidarity forever.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/21/eight-and-skate/#strike-to-rule

[harrysfolklore]

Harry Styles Answers the Web's Most Searched Questions | WIRED

this was posted on my patreon a few months ago, enjoy ! MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

"Hi I'm Harry Styles and this is the Wired Autocomplete Interview."

Harry introduced himself to the camera and you smiled, you were currently at WIRED Studios for Harry's long awaited autocomplete interview that he finally agreed to do thanks to yours and his fans persistence.

You were sitting behind the camera with the rest of the crew, watching him with a small smile.

A crew member passed the first board to him, he looked at it confusedly for a minute before speaking.

"Okay so. I'm answering what I think or what?"

Everyone in the studio laughed and the director quickly explained to him how the game worked once again, you rolled your eyes with affection and he sent a wink your way.

"Alright, how is Harry Styles?" he said after taking the little piece of paper off the board, "I'm good, I'm really enjoying being home in London, I was away for a while on tour and I'm going to stay here for a bit so that's exciting."

"How did Harry Styles," he paused to rip the next paper and reveal the rest of the question, "Become famous? Well, when I was sixteen years old I auditioned for a singing show called The X Factor, I got put in a band with four lads and we didn't win but we put out a song called What Makes You Beautiful," he smiled for a second, "that one put us on the map, we released a bunch of albums and now I'm here."

"How did Harry Styles meet his wife?" at this, he turned his gaze to you to give you a big smile, you immediately mirrored his and nodded your head, signaling that you were okay with him talking about it.

"We could say that it was basically a blind date, we had a friend in common who thought we would be a good match and set us up, we had an amazing first date but then I had to travel to Los Angeles for work so we couldn't really see each other after that but once I was back in London we hung out all the time, and now we're married."

He smiled at you again and you couldn't help but feel your heart melt, you had been married for 6 months now but the married life was still new for the both of you, and everything he called you his wife butterflies made its way to your stomach.

"How is Harry Styles still alive?" his eyes widened in surprise and he looked around the room, making a few present laugh, "Um, that's a weird thing to search on the internet, but I guess, I don't know if I can answer that, I don't think anyone can answer that we're just lucky to still be around and enjoy life."

He gave the camera one of his infamous "frog smiles" and handed the board to a crew member who was ready with the next one.

"Does Harry Styles have tattoos?" he revealed the first question of the new board, "Yes, he does. I have a lot of tattoos actually, they're basically all over my body. The most recent one is right here," he pointed at the back of his right arm, "It's my wedding date, actually, everyone might call me a sap but I was reserving this arm for tattoos about my wife a and future kids, so I guess it's finally time to fill it."

It was safe to say that  fans watching at home and everyone in the studio absolutely melted, especially you.

"Does Harry Styles have siblings? I do I have a sister, she's older than me and her name is Gemma. A lot of people claim she's cooler than me for some reason but I don't thing that's true," he shrugged and revealed the next question, "Does Harry Styles speak Italian? I would like to think that I do, I spend a lot of time there and I've learned how to communicate pretty decently."

"Is Harry Styles an actor?" he said after peeling the first sticker of the new board, "He tries to be an actor that's for sure," he laughed and everyone in the room did as well, "I mean, I've been in a couple of movies, I've auditioned for a bunch of roles and my agent has sent me scripts to go through," he shrugged "So I can say that makes me an actor."

"Is Harry Styles american?" he shook his head at that one, "He is not! He's Britain, born and raised okay? He's very proud of it."

"What's Harry Styles BeReal? I don't have a BeReal, but if I did I wouldn't tell you," he pointed to the camera jokingly, "What are Harry Styles fans called? I think they are referred to as Harries, but I don't like to speak on behalf of them, you should ask them."

"What was Harry Styles first song? My first song was Sign Of The Times, I wrote it with friends that I love, and that is my wife's favorite song I've ever written, right love?"

"That's correct." you said from your spot, pretty audible so you know it would make it to the final cut of the interview.

"What are Harry Styles songs about?" he peeled the last sticker of the board, "They're about a lot of things, life, friends, love, my wife," he shrugged, "I even have one about the female orgasm."

You quietly giggled, knowing that his fans would go crazy over that last sentence.

"Did Harry Styles go to college? He did not, he became a singer."

"Did Harry Styles win a Grammy? He somehow won Album Of The Year last year, which is absolutely insane if you ask him."

"Did Harry Styles finish high school? Oh I'm glad the internet asks," he laughed, "Contrary to popular belief I did finish high school, I completed my GCES and I graduated, I don't know why there's a rumor there that I didn't finish high school tho."

"Anyway, last one!" he comically threw the board to the floor and grabbed the final board a crew member was handling him, "Who is Harry Styles best friend? Um, I have a ton of best friends. Jeff who's also my manager, Mitch who plays in my band, my childhood best friend's name is Johnny, so yeah, I'm very lucky in the friends department, I love my friends."

"Who does Harry Styles look like? My mom, I would say. A lot of people point out that we have the same smile," he shrugged, "My mom is a beautiful woman so I'm flattered."

"Who did Harry Styles write Love Of My Life about? My wife and London."

"And final question," he slowly peeled off the sticker for dramatic effect, "Who does Harry Styles love? Okay, that's cute that people search for that on the internet, um, I love my family and friends, I love my wife that's for sure, I love making music and performing," he listed with his fingers, "And love love, yeah, love is great."

He smiled to the camera and put the board aside to say his goodbyes.

"I thought my Google searches were much more appropriate that I expected. I was fun to see what people wonder about me, so yeah thank you WIRED for having me."

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Fatboy Slim - Praise You 1999

"Praise You" is a song by British big beat musician Fatboy Slim, and was released as the third single from his second studio album, You've Come a Long Way, Baby (1998). It reached number one on the UK Singles Chart and in Iceland, number four in Canada, number six in Ireland, and number 36 in the US. A total of six samples are used in the song. The song features a prominent vocal sample from the opening of "Take Yo' Praise" by Camille Yarbrough, as well as a prominent piano sample from the track "Balance and Rehearsal" from a test album entitled Sessions released by audio electronics company JBL in 1973. That recording session was for "Captain America", sung by Hoyt Axton; a snippet of Axton's vocals humming the "Captain America" melody can be heard in the album version of "Praise You." "Praise You" also features a guitar sample from the opening of "It's a Small World" from the Disneyland Records-released album Mickey Mouse Disco, the theme from the cartoon series Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids, the electric piano riff from "Lucky Man" by Steve Miller Band, and the drum beat from "Running Back To Me" by Tom Fogerty. In a 2021 interview with the website WhoSampled, Yarbrough said that she liked "Praise You" and its use of her vocals, feeling that Cook kept the essence of "Take Yo' Praise".

The accompanying video for "Praise You" was directed by Spike Jonze with Roman Coppola. Jonze starred in the film, under the pseudonym Richard Koufey, along with a fictional dance group: The Torrance Community Dance Group. The video intro described it as "A Torrance Public Film Production". The video was shot guerrilla-style – that is, on location without obtaining permission from the owners of the property – in front of puzzled onlookers outside the Fox Bruin Theater in Westwood, Los Angeles, California. In the video, a heavily disguised Jonze and the dance group, acting as a flash mob, dance to "Praise You", much to the chagrin of a theatre employee who turns off their portable stereo.

The video reportedly cost only US$800 to produce. It won three major awards at the 1999 MTV Video Music Awards: Breakthrough Video, Best Direction, and Best Choreography. It was also nominated for, but did not win, Best Dance Video. In 2001, it was voted number one of the 100 best videos of all time, in a poll to mark the 20th anniversary of MTV.

"Praise You" received a total of 80,6% yes votes! Previous Fatboy Slim polls: #12 "Weapon of Choice".

[entertainment]

Dearest Los Angeles area residents,

On the 14th of November Amazon MGM Studios is hosting special screening of director Emerald Fennell's film, Saltburn. Submit "Saltburn" to the @entertainment ask box for a chance to attend, and select users will receive an invite with timing and location.

Each invite admits the invitee plus one. 18+ event.

[doctorbeth]

Los Angeles Times! See me, more patients and the studio!

So you may have wondered why Habersham's story followed so quickly on the heels of Lucky the Bear's, and the reason is, it was a bit of a teaser.

Over the past few months, I have been interviewed for almost 2 hours by a reporter for the LA Times. Then a photographer came out to the hospital and took photos of me and the hospital and the patients I had at the time (for another two hours!). And then a few weeks ago, another photographer came out to take portraits of the patients I had then. Including one of Habersham. Then, yesterday, September 10, this appeared as the cover of the LA Times Calendar section:

That's Habersham before his surgery. And a wonderful play on Tears for Fears for the title of the story. :-) There's a two page spread inside the paper, and you can read it, and see a lot (if not all) of the photos online here. If the link doesn't work, you can also go to the LA Times and search "toy hospital" in the search box on the site and you should find the article that way too.

Anyway, as you may imagine, I've been doing a bit of a happy dance about the story all weekend. And I really wanted to share it with all of you because a) I thought you might enjoy the article and b) the reporter found me in part because of this blog which you all have chosen to read and follow and like over the years, so you all deserve thanks for the article too!

beth

[wilwheaton]

Q: Why aren’t the studios budging? A: They seem to believe they’ve done enough already. The AMPTP’s statement about the SAG-AFTRA strike on Thursday claims the organization offered “historic pay and residual increases, substantially higher caps on pension and health contributions, audition protections, shortened series option periods, and a groundbreaking AI proposal that protects actors’ digital likenesses for SAG-AFTRA members.” (That “groundbreaking” AI proposal would be the aforementioned suggestion that background actors sell off their likenesses forever.) And as Disney CEO Bob Iger recently put it in an interview that immediately got him scorched on Twitter, Hollywood “is and has been a great business for all of these people, and it will continue to be, even through disruptive times. But being realistic is imperative here.” Q: How much does that guy make again? A: I’m so glad you asked! He just signed a contract extension that brings his annual take-home to $31 million, assuming he gets all his bonuses. I’m sorry, what? To be honest, his salary is kind of embarrassingly low compared to some of the other guys. Warner Bros. Discovery CEO David Zaslav made $498,915,318 in the past five years, according to the Los Angeles Times; poor Iger only got to $195,092,460. Ted Sarandos, meanwhile, reportedly took home $192,171,581 from Netflix in the past half-decade, and Comcast CEO Brian Roberts got $170,158,088.

Everything You Need to Know About the SAG Actors Strike

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

A Twist of Fate

Y/N and Harry are exes who have moved on wit their lives and with other people, but have never stopped loving each other. And in an unbelievable twist of fate reconnect. But after all that time, can they still have a future together?

A Twist of Fate Masterlist

WARNINGS: A wee bit of emotional cheating and a steamy unfaithful make out WITH A VERY CUTE moment with the shaved head 🥹🫶

WC: 15K

To Harry, you had always been the one that got away. Your time together had been so good. You both grew and learned, and loved so much but life just got in the way. The split broke you both because you were certain that no matter what, at the end of the day it would always be you together. Learning that it wouldn’t be was devastating. 

For a while you even stopped believing in love and in the good of the universe. Because if love was real, how cruel did the universe actually have to be to tear you apart? It had been a love like neither of you had ever experienced. Your souls were alight for each other and every interaction you exchanged, every hug, every kiss, every glance, every touch fed the fire of your love and passion for each other for five wonderful years. And when the time came for it to end it was heart wrenching. There was just far too much conflict in time and distance, it sometimes felt like your managers were doing it on purpose, you both knew it wasn’t true, of course. You were just starting to reach new levels of fame and were in high demand and you couldn’t keep doing what you were doing to yourselves in trying to make it work.

So when Harry signed on to yet another film and you had gone into the studio for your album you had to reevaluate your relationship. It had to be done over the phone while there was an entire ocean between you because even though it was the wrong way to go about it, you just couldn’t look into each other’s eyes while admitting defeat. There was absolutely no way. It was hard to even breathe at first, but with time it got a bit better and better, and soon you’d met other people and were on your way to being happy like before. But that brought you to this day. After years of being broken up and never speaking or seeing each other you were both frozen in the hallway of a studio in Los Angeles looking right at each other. Time was at a standstill as you just stared for a moment. Both completely shocked at your run in. Harry’s tongue suddenly felt heavy and knotted up and his hands felt like they were prickling. He just wanted to reach out and touch you.

“Y/N, I’ve missed you.” He finally said. But you barely heard it over the obnoxiously loud pounding of your heart.

“I missed you too.” You whispered breathlessly as you looked him over. A smile came to your lips as you admired him from up close. You chuckled and shook your head because his hair was gone! And he looked great. So well rested, stronger, taller, and more youthful somehow.

“Can I hug you?” He asked and at his question you hurried into his arms, not bothering with a response. 

As soon as you touched everything felt better. The fires in your hearts were burning again because the love had never run out. If anything it got stronger with the distance somehow. But things were not as they used to be. He had a girlfriend of nearly a year now and you had just started dating someone just a couple months prior. You had been resigned to the fact that for your circumstance, love just wasn’t enough so you both moved on. The embrace was long, you were taking your time in his arms and he was taking in your scent. How he missed the sweet and inviting smell that wafted around you like a cloud. It seemed like it had been too soon when you started pulling back from his hold, but he willed himself to loosen his grip to give you the space to depart from him.

“Your hair!” You smiled brightly and he chuckled.

“I know…After the tour ended it just felt like the end of an era, you know? Time for a big change.” He smiled through his explanation and you nodded in understanding.

“Yeah, I get that. I love it! It looks great!” You complimented as you looked him over once more.

“Yeah?” He asked timidly and you nodded quickly. He knew he didn’t need your approval, but having it made him feel even better about his decision.

“How long are you in town?” You asked, your hands slid down his arms from around his neck and landed in his. Feeling your soft and warm skin meeting his own had his mind going fuzzy. He could feel his heart reaching out to you with how hard it pounded.

“I uh- I leave tomorrow. I just had a quick thing I needed to take care of. Was only here a few days.” He said and you felt a lump forming in your throat. Gone so soon…a tease of fate.

“Oh.” You responded and he nodded, a sad smile came over his face.

“Yeah.” He squeezed your hands a bit harder, “Ummm, I’m at the Roosevelt. In the Marylin Monroe suite. Maybe we can grab dinner tonight, around 8?” He asked hopefully and you frowned. The universe was heartless and cruel, it was confirmed.

“I actually can’t tonight, Harry. I have plans with my…” you trailed off before shifting your gaze down to the buttons of his shirt. They were all done up now, unlike before, when he barely bothered after the third one up.

“Someone you’re seeing?” He asked and you nodded, not able to look at him as you confirmed.

“Sorry.” You said, finally looking back into his eyes.

“I’m not- I mean, it’s alright. That you’re, you know, putting yourself out there.” He put on a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah?” You asked and he nodded. You were holding onto each other for dear life, “I’m happy I ran into you, though. I missed you. Been thinking about you lately as well.” You said again through a small smile.

“I’m really happy I got to see you too.” He confirmed through his own smile; it was definitely genuine this time.

“Well, I should get going and let you get to the studio.” You said and he nodded.

“Right. C’mere.” He said pulling you back in for a hug. This time you inhaled his own warm, musky, and familiar scent as his warmth settled into your own body. “Take good care of yourself.” He mumbled to you before kissing the side of your head.

“You too, H.” You hummed before you let go and you continued down the hall. You stopped and turned back to see that he was still standing there, watching you leave and you smiled, planting a kiss to your palm and pretending like you threw it at him and he smiled brightly as he pretended he caught it and pressed his palm to his heart and you waved before you left the building.

************

“You seem distracted.” Caitlyn, your best friend, pointed out as she glanced over from her desk to you, sitting across from her, just staring out the window behind her.

“I know, I’m sorry…I don’t think I’ll be much help for brainstorming right now.” You said and Caitlyn frowned.

“What happened?”

“I was doing Seb the favor of dropping off a demo of a new song to his producer and on my way out I ummm…H-harry was there.” You said and Caitlyn’s eyes went wide.

“What the hell? I thought he was in London!” She gasped.

“He will be tomorrow. S’his last night.” You explained.

“Are you alright?” She asked you right away.

“I think so…he invited me to dinner at his hotel, but I have plans with Seb tonight so I can’t.”

“Well maybe it’s for the best, friend. I mean…I know how it was with you guys and like, I know you’re both good people, but maybe it wouldn’t be the wisest thing to have dinner with him at his hotel. Alone.” Caitlyn reasoned and you nodded.

“Yeah, I think you’re right…I mean, besides, he has a girlfriend too so best not to do something platonic that could seem sketchy."

“Exactly.” Caitlyn concurred. “Well, are you feeling OK? Did it bring anything up for you?”

“Just a little sadness… nostalgia? I mean, we put in so much work, you know? I swear we were endgame.” You said quietly with some disappointment.

“Yeah…did he seem happy?”

“I guess? I didn’t ask really. I don’t want to know…” you sighed, “Buzzed his head though.” You smiled and Caitlyn gasped audibly.

“No way!” She laughed in disbelief.

“Yeah! It’s a different look, but he looks really good. It suits him more than I would expect.” You chuckled and then fell silent for a few seconds.

“Y/N, do you still…have feelings for him?” Caitlyn asked carefully and you sighed.

“Think I’ll always have feelings for him…” you said lowly. “Like, it’s Harry!” You said and Caitlyn pouted and nodded in understanding. “It was definitely nice to see him though, even if it was fast.”

“Well maybe it’s good that it was a brief run in. Didn’t have to linger and talk about things that would make you both even more sad.” Caitlyn suggested.

“Maybe I need to be more sad…like I’ve been in a bit of a slump writing-wise…” you said.

“Use this sad, Y/N. The nostalgia, the not knowing, the wondering, you really don’t need more than that.” Caitlyn said and you sighed, “And don’t google him. Or his girlfriend.” She warned and you cackled.

“Of course not! I’m not you.” you quipped with a teasing grin.

“Look, cyberstalking is a necessary evil sometimes.”

“I can’t agree with that statement.” You chuckled.

“Just because you suck at it…” Caitlin sassed.

“I don’t think internet stalking is a skill to be proud of, Cait.” You giggled.

“Look, all I know is that one day, my skills will come in handy.” She said simply and you knocked your head back as you laughed at your best friend’s nonsense.

*************

Harry had not been able to stop thinking about you since the afternoon. He had made a quick detour to LA to meet with some of his producers. He was planning to take a bit of a longer break to focus on other projects and passions and just live for himself a little bit. He was just outlining a plan for his next album since he had already renewed his contract.

In truth, he was glad that he had been able to tour when he did because you had just ended things. He just went right into entertain mode and got so much out of his system. But being back on the road, meeting new people, putting himself back out there, it helped a lot. And then the one thing he thought wasn’t possible happened. He met someone else and he moved on. He felt that he had moved into it quite fast as they’d only been friends for a month or so, but they’d been together almost a year now and it was going well. Was he happy? He was. Wasn’t he?

Obviously, he knew he’d eventually see you but he wasn’t ready for it now. It wasn’t the best time because while he’d moved on, you still had an effect on him. He still dreamt of you sometimes. He still felt butterflies in his stomach when he thought of you, even now when he remembered how you had hugged him. He loved the way your fingers felt as you skimmed them down his arms before you could hold his hands just for a moment. You looked so good too…you’d always opted for shorter hair, to the shoulders or a bit less, but it was longer now, it suited you. Your eyes were bright and your smile just as warm and inviting as it had always been. He would be lying if he said that his heart didn’t skip a beat when he saw you. But being in your presence like that, it suddenly felt like no time had passed at all. 

He felt kind of stupid for asking you to dinner…in hindsight it was good that you were busy. To be alone with you while his heart and tummy were doing all these weird and fluttery things that they did every time he was around you, that couldn’t be a great idea.

The hardest thing to get over was that he loved how he felt around you, it was magical. Your energies matched so well. What you had together had was unmatched, there wasn’t anyone who had brought that same feeling to him before or now. You cared for him in ways that made him feel seen and understood as a person, the whole of him, good and bad…he had no idea how you did it, but it just came so naturally from you. Your ability to relate and communicate and accept other people as they were was innate and he missed that about you. He missed how easy it was to receive the kind of love and care that you gave and that he needed. Not that he wasn’t feeling cared for now, he definitely was, but it wasn’t the same as with you of course…no one was you. He snapped out of his thoughts when his phone started ringing loudly, cutting off the music he was running to.

“Hey man, what’s up?” He greeted Jeffrey who was on the other line.

“Hey H, how’d the meeting go?”

“Good. We set a schedule for the next couple of things so that’s squared away.”

“Excellent.” Jeffrey hummed, “Look man, I know you’re supposed to be taking off tomorrow but someone reached out to me from A24 about a possible Bowie bio pic. They’re really interested in talking to you about it.”

“I don’t know, Jeff…”

“I told them you might not be interested, but they were really insistent that you’d be great for the role and just wanted to pick your brain a bit. You definitely don’t have to commit to anything yet, they just want to talk to you about it.” He said and he hummed pensively.

“When’s the meeting?”

“They said Thursday of next week. They have this like vision board and a script they want to have you look over and whatnot.”

“Can it be sooner?”

“Nope. The director is on some remote site for another project now and will be back in town on Thursday.” Harry sighed upon hearing this.

“Fuck…fine. I’ll wait it out then. Can you get me another room then? I still have to check out of here tomorrow.”

“Yeah man, I’ll take care of it now and send the details over, alright?”

“Sounds good. Talk soon.”

“Yep, love you man. Bye.”

“Love ya’. Bye.” Harry said and then hung up.

Honestly, Harry had no interest in doing this film, he was certain they could get someone else, someone far better in his opinion. And he’d definitely watch it, but right now he had every interest in staying longer and getting to see you again. As reckless as it might be to see you with all of these feelings brewing in him, it was a need. It brought him back to old times, where even when you’d be busy, you’d do reckless things like stay extra days in a country just to be able to cross paths while you both worked. Or fly from one end of the US to the other just to have dinner…it was kind of an awful habit to just do things like that on a whim, but he felt that he could handle this. After all, old habits die hard and indulging in something that reminded him of how in love he was, despite the struggles, it was worth remembering.

***********

All throughout dinner so far you had been thinking of Harry. How maybe you should’ve made an alternate plan to see him after dinner. Like maybe grab coffee, or a glass of wine, perhaps visit your favorite ice cream shop…but you halted yourself when it got to the ice cream because that would be far too special for just a catch up. That’s the place you realized you were in love with him and surely the resurgence of those feelings would be strong, to say the least. 

“What’s going on, babe?” Sebastian asked you and you huffed.

“Just had a weird day.” You explained as you played with your food a bit more, hoping that your appetite would increase.

“Why’s that?”

“I ummm… I saw Harry.” You decided to just tell him straight up.

Sebastian had been someone you’d known for a while, ever since you were starting out. You would semi-frequently run into each other at open mic nights, karaoke bars, talent shows, scouting shows. You weren’t close friends or anything deep, you just had drinks with the other few people who were nice and chill and struggling to get their big break. Luckily, yours came quite swiftly and then you were out of that scene. He’d never gotten your number, but when you made it and your first song went #1 he did send you a fan letter, as he had no other way to reach you. And he was so happy for you and proud of you, and you reached out. That’s when you learned he was in talks with a label then too. He gave you his number and you started catching up a bit and then Harry happened and you friend zoned him (according to him, you had never really been interested like that). Once you got with Harry you were MIA for a bit, you just didn’t know who you could trust at the start since Harry was far more famous and super private about everything, understandably so. 

But then, Harry met all your friends, Seb included, and he saw how you were with Harry and he let go of whatever hope he had that you two could be together. He had shared that with you a bit after you’d gotten together. He just couldn’t believe that after dating someone as big as Harry you’d give him a chance. But in all fairness, anyone who had experienced you and Harry together could tell you how palpable your love was. How intense and dedicated you were to each other for the near five years you spent together. Lots of conversations started with a “When you guys get married…” and you wouldn’t bat an eye. Of course you wanted to get married and have a life together. All this to say that Sebastian knew what it meant or could mean for you to see Harry again. He had been there for all of it and now he was a bit scared…

“Today?” He asked and you nodded.

“Well, it was more of a running into type of situation than a deliberate seeing each other.” You explained.

“I see. Where?”

“At the studio. I was on my way out as he was coming in for something.”

“Are you okay?”

“I think so…I’m just…I don’t know, it brought up a lot of shit, you know?”

“I can imagine.”

“So that’s why I’m a bit…weird. I just…I don’t know. Like I saw him and I missed him, you know?”

“And does he miss you?”

“He said he does.” You shrugged, “I mean, I told him about you, so it wasn’t like that.” You emphasized, “But yeah, I just wasn’t expecting that.” He mumbled.

“I’m sorry.” He said reaching his hand out for yours and you took it as you glanced down to watch your hands connect.

“It’s fine.” 

“How long is he in town?”

“He leaves tomorrow morning. Asked me to dinner, that’s when I brought you up and said we had plans.” You smiled at him and he smirked.

“Oh wow…I mean, I would’ve understood if you ditched me for thee Harry Styles. But I appreciate you choosing to keep our plans.” He said with a slightly smug and victorious grin.

“Of course, babe.” You assured him with a smile.

But that didn’t mean that mentally you weren’t sitting across from Harry at the Roosevelt having an equally nice glass of wine and catching up over what the last couple years apart had been like for you.

*************

Harry very seldom used social media, especially for celebrity gossip purposes, but he found himself hunched over the table in his bedroom eating dinner alone while typing up your name in the Instagram search bar and going to the tags. Much like his, your instagram was now for professional use, so he knew there wouldn’t be anything personal to find there so he didn’t bother with your profile, hashtags were where it was at. And as soon as the page loaded, an avalanche of images came up. He went to the first one and it was a fan video, secretly taken of course, of you over dinner with your boyfriend. Sebastian?

“You’re dating Sebastian? That Hozier rip off? Really?!” He muttered to himself bitterly.

He watched the clip replay a few times.You two were clearly talking about something a bit serious as you weren’t smiling at first. But then he reached for your hand and you took it and smiled. He selfishly hoped you were talking about him just then… 

of course, he would hate it if someone took videos of him like that at a private dinner, but he now understood why people did it. It was better than just seeing it with your own two eyes. This was forever. He could sit there all night and watch as your lips slowly turned up towards the end and smiled at him. He could watch your hand reaching out to touch Sebastian’s. He could sit there and theorize about where this conversation was going…it could just be a serious topic of conversation, an amicable break up, some good news… Crumbs. That’s all these things were, just crumbs. He scrolled a bit and got to some other photos and videos of Sebastian at your shows, you at his shows, out and about…it was making his stomach twist up with jealousy and regret. 

Harry didn’t find that he got jealous much anymore, he felt more secure in himself and in his relationships, he had matured, a lot of things went into that. But a part of his heart would always belong to you and seeing you sharing your affection with someone else, it made him sick to his stomach. He scrolled down further, hoping to see something about you two but there was only disappointment. 

When you were together he was so fucking paranoid that the public would ruin what you had that there was no PDA, everything was so clandestine…you’d been papped alone a few times walking around together, at events, and a few other mundane situations but not like what you had with Sebastian over the last couple months. There were no pictures of you two holding hands, or smiling at each other the way you often did when you were alone or with trusted friends and family. There were no videos of you kissing in the corner of a dark party or side stage at a show…and whatever videos you had with each other…well, those had to go in case any of you ever got hacked or something. He did have a few pictures, but they were in his albums at home and probably scanned into a USB or something similar and it was just lying around collecting dust somewhere. He tried searching you two up and yeah, nothing. Just the couple things he knew of.

“Fucking ridiculous…” he mumbled with his mouth full as he went back to stalking you and Sebastian just a little bit longer. Sebastian had you all over his page; sure he was verified but he was still a smaller artist when compared to him or you, so he could afford to show a bit of his private life without people losing their heads over it.

Harry stopped when he started getting sad and also when a text from Tay came in responding to his news of his change of travel plans. Then he felt bad for lying, for staying longer than he needed to. But the sooner he went back home, the sooner he could forget all about you and what was and immerse himself in the world he lived in now. But then, the sooner he left the sooner he’d be without you close by. The sooner he’d be breathing someone else’s air…sure, there were millions of people in LA, but knowing that you were one of them did things to him.

…. A FEW DAYS LATER ….

If there was one thing you hated to do that Caitlyn loved to do, it was work out. You’d always been a bit lazy for it and did the bare minimum you could get away with. which was still excessive in your opinion, especially when you’d go with Caitlyn. One of her friends, Melissa, had invited the two of you to her friend’s new pilates studio and well, that was one of your hard limits. Barre and Pilates both were! Like what kind of sick fuck can bend that way? Is what you constantly thought to yourself as you’d literally have to have someone hold your body in certain positions to complete the routine.

Since Melissa knew Ilse, the owner of the studio, you were working out in a private studio, which you were eternally grateful for just to spare you from embarrassment at the very least. The last thing you wanted was to become an internet meme because you somehow got tangled up in a pilates machine.

“Alright, great form ladies and just hold a few more seconds…” Ilse hummed to you all. She was sweet to encourage you as if she weren’t currently holding you in position.

“What is going on out there? It’s getting loud.” Melissa pointed out, which made Ilse, turn as well.

“I’m going to go check it out.” She said releasing you from your position before rushing out of the smaller studio.

“Thank fuck.” You sighed as you just left your legs in the suspenders you’d been in for that position Ilse had you in.

“How you holding up?” Caitlyn asked with a grin.

“This is…terrible.” You confessed and you all laughed a bit. “Who wants to leave and feel like a wet noodle for three days after?” You whined.

“It feels great! I love the soreness.” Melissa said and you scoffed.

“You’re insane.” You said to Melissa.

“I am. Clinically.” She agreed and you laughed again at her joke. You was just laying there, legs still suspended in the air, at least this way you were getting good circulation. But mostly because you were afraid to move with how sore you already felt after just a half an hour of pilates. Then Ilse came back in capturing their attention.

“Harry Styles is here.” She said and this made Caitlyn turn to you quickly. You then attempted to sit up properly, “He’s gonna do his thing in here too so that no one bugs him.” she explained. You were still fighting to get up from your laying position with your legs suspended above you. Finally you got your foot out of the fucking loop and were trying to get the other one out before he came in, “Y/N, be careful.” Ilse warned as she started to make her way over to help. But she paused when the door opened behind her and in came Harry in a gray, long sleeve shirt and some tiny, navy blue shorts. You swallow thickly and pulled harder on the cable.

“Ilse, thank you so much for letting me join-” A small shriek interrupted Harry as he came into the private studio. They all saw you fall out of the machine and they hurried over and huddled above you. And there you were on the ground, one of your feet still stuck in the loop of the cable, leaving it extended high above the rest of your body. How humiliating… Your eyes met his and you saw as he rolled his lips together to prevent his laughter from spilling out. You’d always had an aversion to exercising as he recalled.

“Oh my god! Are you OK?!” Ilse asked you. And then you were bursting into laughter, causing Ilse’s shoulders to lose their tension. 

When your eyes met his again as you laughed he sputtered on his own laughter before it just spilled out of him and then your friends laughed along at your mishap as well. Harry was quick to step up and help you get your foot free and then Ilse helped you up.

“Thank you.” You said to Ilse and Harry with a warm face and bashful smile.

“Of course. Do you need ice or something?” Ilse asked and you shook her head.

“I’m fine. I’ll just sit the rest out. Do some free weights.”

“Real convenient, missy.” Caitlyn mumbled and you grinned. Harry soon greeted Caitlyn and then properly greeted Melissa.

“So how do you guys know each other?” She asked the three of you.

“Just industry friends.” You said quickly with a decisive nod and Harry glanced at you. Your eyes averted to Cailtyn’s who just looked to Harry after a few seconds.

“Cool, well let’s keep going then.” Ilse suggested. Since you had decided to just do some free wights across the room Harry took your spot as Ilse guided them through the rest of the routine. 

Harry was stealing glances. Not that you weren’t, but you were far more subtle about it. He couldn’t help it though. He knew her body just as well as he knew his own. And just watching you move was bringing back so many memories. He’s the one that discovered you had a birthmark right near the crook of your inner thigh. He’s the person who discovered that you had a group of freckles and beauty marks on your mid back that almost resembled the entire Orion constellation. He’s the person who knew that you hated that one of your boobs was “much smaller” than the other. He thought they were pretty symmetrical, but whatever. He knew every scar you had. He knew each tattoo, he’d been there for many of them. He knew that there was this one eyelash you had that always grew in a little crooked and he’d always help you pluck it out after you’d beg and beg because it ruined your mascara. He knew the shape you liked to pluck your eyebrows in. He knew the shape of your lips and the shade of your eyes. He knew everything there was to know about you. 

So yeah, he was looking and remembering all the little things about you that made you the beautiful, smart, talented, and unique person that you were. He hadn’t allowed himself to love and obsess over anyone like that ever again, it took too much out of him. Just you. 

“I thought you were supposed to leave a few days ago?” Caitlyn said. And well, if Caitlyn knew this, that meant you had talked about him to her.

“Something came up. Have another meeting on Thursday. S’for a film, the director isn’t back in town until then.” He elaborated.

“Ooh what film?”

“A possible Bowie biopic.” He said and she looked impressed.

“Nice. Are you interested in the project?” She asked just as you bent over to grab your water bottle and Harry got a little lost for a moment. 

He barely heard a word Caitlyn had said, he just watched you shamelessly. God, he missed that perfect, little body of yours. Seeing as Caitlyn was facing the mirror while she talked to him, she could see your reflection and obviously, what Harry was staring at. She loved you and Harry together, but the logistics were kind of fucked and you were stretching yourselves so thin, it was unhealthy. You hadn’t ended things because you weren’t in love; in fact, you were so in love that you couldn’t do that to each other anymore. You had tried to wait it out, but it was exhausting you two to degrees that just was a bit irresponsible for some of the biggest stars on the planet, so you went your own ways.

“She’s happy, you know?” Caitlyn said quietly and Harry’s eyes flickered away from you to hers. He sighed and nodded.

“I know.” He said, “With Sebastian?”

“She told you it was him?” Caitlyn asked. Harry had always been a little wary around Sebastian because it was fairly obvious to him that he had a thing for you. He never tried anything and was always respectful, but just that jealousy he felt over you was palpable. And it would make Harry be on high alert when you guys was around him.

“No. I had to…fucking look it up.” He admitted with slight irritation. Caitlyn snorted quietly on a laugh causing him to shoot her a glare. “Shut up.” He mumbled with a bashful smile as he smacked her with his towel on the leg.

“Ew! Unsanitary!” She scoffed through her sniggers.

“Fuck you, I haven’t even used it yet.” He chuckled. When their little fit died down she got serious again.

“You seem happy too.” 

“I…I am.” He nodded once, “But it’s her. She’s…” he trailed off as he glanced at you again, “She was it for me, you know?” He said with some sadness. “I don’t know…I just…wasn’t prepared to see her yet.” 

“That’s what she said too. Maybe it’ll always be that way? Like you guys had something extraordinary. It was special, some real soul mate shit, you know? Of course it’s going to be hard to get over. I literally thought that was all BS until I saw how you guys were together.” She said and he smiled.

“Yeah.” He agreed.

“What do you want?”

“To just be around her.” He said and she hummed.

“Then be friends.” Caitlyn suggested and he immediately shook his head.

“I couldn’t…like I’m happy for her, but I don’t want to see it in my face. And I’m sure she feels the same about that. Seeing each other have everything we had and more? No way.”

“Then…I don’t know, Harry.”

“Can you just ask her i-if we could grab a coffee or talk or something?”

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“Because she’ll say no.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I do.” He said, “What if she thinks I’m just trying to…to make her doubt or something?”

“She knows you’d never hurt her and you know she’d never hurt you.”

“I know, but what if…”

“What if you guys do something stupid like cheat?” Caitlin asked bluntly and he nodded. “Well then that’s up to you guys.” she said simply, “I did tell her it was probably good that she couldn’t have dinner with you the other night…I could see something happen during a moment of weakness. All that attraction and love you guys still have for each other…I mean, I can’t see either of you walking away without someone getting hurt if you’re not overly cautious. Maybe it’s a temptation or maybe it’s what needs to happen to open that door again…I don’t know, H. But if you do want to see her again just be careful with your hearts and those of the others you’re involved with now.” She admonished and he nodded.

“You’re right.” He said and glanced down at his knees instead of at you. “I don’t want to fuck anything up for her.”

“And what about you?”

“I’m already fucked.” He chuckled breathily with sadness in his eyes.

************

When their session was over you all said their goodbyes. Harry headed back into the locker rooms to have a shower though, so he didn’t walk out with you three. You had gone to have some breakfast at Melissa’s house and were in the middle of eating when your phone pinged. When you picked it up from the table you saw “Harry” on the text notification and you locked it and set it down with a pounding heart. Caitlyn looked to you with a knowing glance and you sighed and went back to your food. Melissa was cool, she was an influencer who was dabbling in TV, which is how she met Caitlyn. But you weren’t really personal friends with her yet so you didn’t feel like bringing Harry up right now. You could talk to Caitlyn about it on your way home.

As soon as you were in the car you looked at his text and smiled at the screen. Harry was sweet, a bit of an over-thinker, but you loved that about him. He was thoughtful of how he wanted to be perceived and how he came across.

“Did he ask to see you?” Caitlyn asked and you nodded and locked your phone before taking off. You sat in silence for just a few minutes before Caitlyn turned to you. “So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” You confessed. “If I see him…alone…” you sighed, “s’just that after seeing him I realized I still feel too much for him.” You explained. “I don’t want to fuck things up with Seb or hurt him in any way.  Like you know that I care about him. So much. But this is Harry, you know? Do you think Seb’ll understand if I want to meet up with Harry?” You asked and Caitlyn sighed.

“Girl, I don’t know…but after speaking a bit with Harry I don’t know if it’s a good idea.” She said and you frowned.

“What did he say?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“He’s just…hanging on by a thread I think.” She said and you frowned. “Like you’re both in relationships, good ones, that seem to make you guys happy. And I mean…you guys are each other’s weakness, you know? And I care about you both so much and I don’t want you to accidentally do something that you’ll regret and hate yourselves for. Like I get it, you miss each other, but would tempting fate fix things or make them worse?” She asked and you sighed.

“You’re right. You’re so right.” You agreed.

“He knows you’re with Sebastian.” Caitlyn said and you turned to her for a moment with confusion.

“How?”

“He was looking you up online or something is what he said.” Upon hearing that you giggled and Caitlyn started to chuckle as well. Before you knew it, you were both laughing hard at how crazy that was. Him scouring the internet to find information about you? “If Harry internet lurks you can too. You’re missing out…” Caitlyn said after your laughing spell had died down.

“Yeah, no thanks. I have some dignity.” You grinned and Caitlyn rolled her eyes. 

**************

Harry waited and waited. And waited well into the night for Y/N to respond to his text. He had no idea if you’d even read it. Maybe you had changed your number and he’d texted someone else by mistake. He was getting antsy, he was only in town for four more days. So he did a double text, just to verify that it was still your number and when no response came after another 10 minutes he just settled against his pillows and pulled out the book he had brought along with him. He wasn’t even hungry anymore after that disappointment.

**************

Sebastian had come over to your house for dinner at the last minute and now you were just washing up your dishes from that when he came into the kitchen glowering at you.

“What the matter?” You asked with some concern and he brought your phone up to your face so that you could see what had him so upset. You pouted a bit when you read Harry’s second text, he was just asking if it was still your number. You felt bad for leaving him on read now.

“You saw him again today and he asked you out again?” Sebastian asked with irritation. He had every right to be irritated without context, but the explanation would easily appease his anger.

“I didn’t plan to see him. Me and the girls were at pilates and he showed up at that studio. I have no control over where he goes! What was I supposed to do? Leave?” You asked him and he sighed, “The trainer had him come work out in the studio with us because people were flocking him. But when he came over I even left to do strength training instead. Ask Caitlyn! I didn’t even talk to him!” You said quickly as he searched your eyes. The fear and panic in them made him doubt you. “He just wants to catch up.” You said as he set your phone down on the counter with a sigh.

“I want to believe you but-”

“Then believe me, Sebastian!” You said with exasperation as you shut the water off and took off the rubber gloves you were wearing. “The evidence is there on my phone. I haven’t even answered him!” You pointed out and he sighed.

“Why is he so determined of doing this? Doesn’t he have a girlfriend to hang out with?” 

“It’s just…a lot seeing each other after so long. He probably just wants to reconnect and be friends? Maybe if I just talk to him-”

“I don’t want you talking to him, Y/N.” Sebastian said and you frowned. “I don’t trust him and I don’t like how pushy he’s being about this.”

“He’s not being pushy…” you sighed.

“He is! You left him on read and he doesn’t take the fucking hint.” Sebastian argued.

“Well maybe if I just respond and explain that you’re not comfortable with us meeting up alone then he’ll-”

“Oh, don’t put this on me.” Sebastian cut you off.

“Well you’re the one who’s upset over this, Seb. I honestly wasn’t even going to respond to him!”

“If you’re not going to respond just delete the message and block the number.” He insisted, handing your phone over. You frowned as you glanced down at it in your hands and then up at him.

“No, Seb. I’m not blocking him for no real reason!” You pushed back.

“Your boyfriend being upset over it is a real reason, Y/N. He wants you back! Why can’t you see that?” He groaned in frustration.

“No, he doesn’t. He just wants to talk and catch up!” You countered.

“Well I don’t care what he wants, Y/N. I don’t want you to see him. I forbid it!” He put his foot down and you scoffed. 

“You forbid it? What the fuck? Who are you to tell me who I can and can’t see in my free time, Seb? I think I’ve respected you and our relationship by leaving it and not answering him. I even told you when I first saw him-”

“Only because I asked! And now again, you see him and don’t say anything about it until I see these texts!”

“One sided texts!” You added and he shook his head.

“I waited my turn and I chose to be with you, Y/N. And right now you need to choose me back.” He said and you sighed as you started growing anxious and frustrated.

“I’m with you, Seb! I already chose you! There’s nothing for me to choose right now! You’re the one putting Harry in the middle of us right now.” You argued.

“You’re honestly telling me that if he says he wants you back you wouldn’t hesitate to choose me over him? You’d just tell him to fuck off?” He asked and you frowned.

“That’s… that’s a silly thing to think. Why are you even arguing hypotheticals, Seb? This will get us nowhere-”

“Tell me, now. Who would you choose, Y/N?” He insisted more seriously and you shook your head.

“I’m not playing this stupid game with you, Seb.” You said as you crossed your arms. Holding your position.

“You refusing to make a choice over this speaks fucking volumes, Y/N.” He said with disappointment before he stormed out of the kitchen. You took a second to let your mind try and catch up with how all of this went south so quickly. Once you were up to speed you hurried over to the front door where he was sliding his feet into his shoes.

“Where are you going?” You asked him with welled up eyes and he refused to answer you. “Sebastian!” You raised your voice.

“I’m done.” He seethed, finally responding to you, “I’m done playing second fiddle to him, Y/N.” He said pointedly before leaving your place with a loud thud of the door slamming. 

You groaned into your hands and your tears started rolling down your cheeks. You were so fucking angry at him and at Harry…it was making you boil over as you returnedd to the kitchen and grabbed your phone and called him. He didn’t pick up, you tried again after a few moments and it went straight to voicemail. You were so angry at him you almost threw your phone at the wall. But before you could, you decided to make another call, this one to Harry.

“Y/N?” He answered almost right away and before you could berate him for his texts you started to sniffle, “Hey? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He asked softly. His voice was drenched with concern.

“Seb saw your texts and I think he just broke up with me.” You whimpered as more tears started to fall. You started to sob a bit harder and just dropped yourself on the couch. Harry felt awful…he hadn’t meant to stir up trouble for you, he just missed you.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t think I said anything bad or suspicious.” He apologized.

“You didn’t. He just thinks you’re…trying to get me back. He asked me to block you and I said no because that’s stupid. We’re fucking grown ups, you know?”

“Yeah.” He hummed as he listened.

“And he…he asked me if you wanted to get back together with me, if I would I choose him over you.” You said and he bit his lip.

“What’d you say?”

“I didn’t say anything! I told him he was being ridiculous for bring up hypotheticals like that. Like what would we gain from that, you know? And he got more angry and said that not choosing was basically choosing…”

“I see how he came to that conclusion. I mean…it makes it seem like…he wouldn’t like the choice you’d make.” He explained.

“Well it’s not like that! I just…I don’t know, Harry.” You said before gasping for air as you started to cry harder. Harry wished he could be there to hold you and tell you everything would be fine. He’d just let you get it out for a little bit.

“I’m really sorry for stirring up trouble for you, love.” Harry apologized with full sincerity. 

“It’s alright.” You whispered as your crying diminished.

“It’s not…I should’ve taken the fucking hint. I just miss you and want to spend time with you before I go. I was upset that you didn’t answer me after this morning. I should’ve just left it alone and-”

“I miss you too, H.” You cut him off. You sniffled as you just stared up at the ceiling. “Fucking ridiculous amounts.” You added and he smiled.

“Me too.” He agreed.

“I’m sorry for not responding to you. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. S’just that after talking to Caitlyn about it I just got a little…scared I guess. Like…what if we like have a moment of weakness and do something fucked up and-”

“Love, no.” he responded even if he had the same fear as her.

“Is is that crazy to think about? We obviously still share a lot of feelings for each other and I would hate to…to mess anything up for you if I…if I’m not strong enough.” You explained.

“If anyone’s not strong enough here it’s me.” He said and you smiled, “God…like…I don’t know if wanting to see you is wrong or not and I don’t care. All I know is that you mean a lot to me and I’ve missed you.”

“Enough to lurk me on the internet?” You asked with a smile and he sighed.

“Fucking Caitlyn…” he chuckled and you laughed. “So pathetic.” Muttered lowly.

“S’not…” you appeased him.

“So you’ve done it too?” He asked hopefully.

“No way.” You said quickly and he chuckled, “It’s not because I’m not curious I just…I don’t want t-to see you with her.” You admitted and a silence came over you two for several moments as the information settled. “And well, it’s not even about her really, it’s just…you I guess.” You confessed, “It’s such an ugly feeling.” You explained with a frown, “It makes my stomach hurt and it makes me annoyed and my chest feels heavy and like-”

“You get jealous.” He said and you sighed. You’d never been of the jealous kind. Specially not with Harry, you knew that even God would have to kill one of you to keep you apart. There was no chance of straying from each other. So this feeling festering inside of you was absolutely foreign to you and you never wanted it again. You’d seen a photo of them briefly on some gossip website when a friend had sent a link about some crazy rumor they’d written about you. It was a suggestion for another article read at the bottom of the article about you. The photo above the title was of them two, you only saw it quickly before you closed out of the tab, never wanting to see it again. But god, it was truly such an ugly feeling. You literally felt it growing out of your heart and infecting your…you’d been moody the rest of that day; it was awful.

“Yeah, I guess I do…feel jealous.” You admitted and he bit his lip for a second.

“While I was lurking instagram the other day? I saw a video of you and Sebastian kissing at some concert of his. At the side of the stage?” He said.

“Yeah?” You asked and he sighed.

“Yep. I-it made me so…mad. Like a helpless kind of mad. And then sad.” He said and you frowned, “It made me sad because we didn’t have that. I hate that I kept you so hidden…I should’ve been less afraid of the public, of the fans, of all the external bullshit that fucks with my head. I wish people could’ve see how happy we were. Wish they could’ve see how much we love each other.” He said and you felt your stomach flip when he said that. He didn’t say “how much we loved each other”, he said “love”, present tense, as in right now. It felt good to hear but it also scared you because you realized that you too were hanging on by a thread.

“You know, I kinda love that it’s just between us. Like back then it was tough to hide like that, but now I appreciate it more. I felt…safe and protected and normal when we were together, you know?”

“Yeah, that’s true.” He hummed. “Do you ever think about us?” He asked meekly.

“Of course I do. A lot of the time…” you said with a smile. “Like early last year, Seb opened for someone at the Forum and he like…fell in love with it.”

“Rightfully so, s’the perfect venue.” He said and you hummed.

“Literally. So he bought us club passes and we went to see John Mayer like a few months later and we had the same exact seats that we had for Elton John. Remember?”

“Oh, god…do I…” he laughed and you started to laugh as well. “And Jeffrey had to get them to delete the video of us sneaking into the family bathroom, remember?” He started chuckling.

“Oh, I remember.” You giggled. 

“At least we was fast…”

“We weren’t. We were in there for almost half an hour.” You pointed out.

“Were we?” He asked in shock and you laughed.

“Yeah! You said you wanted to to enjoy it or something like that. And when I said we should go home then you said-”

“And miss Elton John?” He cut her off and you laughed as you nodded.

“Literally, you paused, mid-fuck. Like mid thrust, Harry.” You cackled as he laughed loudly over the line, “As if we weren’t already missing the best bits anyway…” you said and he smiled as the laughter died down. “I’d never done anything in public like that before.” You said, “You tainted me.” You joked.

“Yeah, you tell yourself that. Whatever helps you sleep at night, love.” He chuckled and bit his lip as he recalled how you were biting down on his shirt to contain your sounds. He had no idea what had gotten into him that night, all he recalls is the you were wearing this perfume that was so intoxicating, he just wanted to be buried against your neck. Kissing you, inhaling that sweet and warm scent that made his head spin. He was touching you in some way the whole fucking time until he sneakily brought his fingers up your skirt and touched you over her underwear slowly until you were drenched for him. He shifted a bit when he felt his cock hardening up in his sweats at the memory of what happened afterwards in that bathroom.

“OK, thanks…just a funny little story to lighten up the mood.” You said and he hummed.

“I want to see you.” He said decidedly and you bit your lip.

“I don’t know if we should, H.”

“Right now. Just FaceTime.” He said and you shot up.

“Harry, no…I’m all snotty and shit-”

“Well if we’re not going to see each other in person before I go at least like this. Please, love.” He said and you sighed as you wiped your eyes a bit before the request to FaceTime came in and you accepted and seconds later there you were. Face to face. You stayed quiet for a few moments, just looking at each other, the air was tense with all of the thoughts and feeling being left unsaid.

“I do want to see you.” You said, finally breaking the silence and he hummed. He was in bed, his free arm was pulled back, supporting his head and he was clearly topless from what you could see. 

“Yeah?” He smiled.

“Of course. I just…feel like it’s asking for trouble.”

“Why?” He chuckled.

“Because! I mean, look at you just now.” You said with a giggle and he glanced down a bit and smirked.

“How do you think I felt today at the gym?”

“I was working out!”

“And I’m just laying in bed.” He responded simply. 

“This is bad, H.”

“What is?” He chuckled.

“The way I’m…looking at you and thinking about you.” You said softly.

“And what way is that?” He asked and you shook her head bashfully as he smiled a bit, “It’s not like I’m not thinking the same things about you…” He responded and you bit your lip nervously. “Earlier today I was remembering how I found your birthmark.” He said with a placid smile.

“Didn’t even know it was there…”

“You’re welcome by the way.” He hummed and you rolled her eyes at him playfully. “When did you move out of your flat?” He asked changing the subject. He just assumed as he didn’t recognize your surroundings.

“Last year. Finally could afford a house. S’small for the area, three bedrooms. Very English cottage/craftsman style, original architecture. Obviously, the inside is renovated, but the external structure is in great shape.” You described and he smiled. “It reminded me of the houses in the country we saw when we visited your family together up north? The ones with the brick exteriors.” You said and he nodded and smiled, “It has a lovely front garden…there are tons of windows so the sun shines in nearly all afternoon. And the garage was turned into like a studio apartment and I’m planning to renovate it into a little music studio once I save up enough.”

“That sounds really nice. So where are you at now?” He asked.

“West Hollywood west.” You said and his eyes widened.

“No way. Dude, I am like down the street from you right now.” He chuckled and you smiled.

“Oh! Really?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t extend my stay at the Roosevelt so Jeffrey moved me to the SLS on La Cienega.” He explained, “I could literally jog to you if I wanted.” He chuckled and you smiled and bit your lip for a moment. It was already dark out…so no one would see him…

“Would you really?” You asked and he nodded.

“Yeah, of course! Had to skip my cool down cardio today because there were too many people at the gym.” He said and you thought about it for a moment. 

Harry was ready to jump out of bed and throw some clothes on and run out if you said he could. He just wanted to be around you again. Even talking like this was nice, just getting to see your expressions and watch you form your thoughts and listen to him.

“Maybe you running over here is not a great idea…” you said when you heard a police siren down the street. He tried to mask his disappointment at this but nodded, “I could pick you up?” You suggested instead.

“Uh yeah, that’s cool too.”

“Do you have any plans tomorrow?”

“No, just work out and hanging out in the area.”

“OK, so no strict curfew.” You smiled and he shook his head.

“Nope.”

  “Ok. Ummm, I’m gonna try to call Seb again and let him know.”

“Does he stay with you?” Harry asked.

“No, he actually lives in Pasadena.”

“Ooh…” Harry exclaimed with a scrunch in his face, “That’s a commute just because of the traffic.”

“I know. It’s not really that far, but man he has to take all the shitty freeways.” You said, “I think he probably went home after we argued. But I just want to let him know that I’m having you over just to avoid any issues.” You explained and he nodded. He loved that about you, you’d always been really considerate like that and it made him smile that you were still that way.

“Oh yeah, of course. I should probably do the same.” He said and you smiled.

“OK. I’ll text you my ETA when I’m heading out.”

“Sounds good.” He nodded and then you hung up.

You tried calling Sebastian a couple times before giving up and going to finish the dishes you had started on, maybe he’d call back. You finished up and still no response from Seb. Then you packed up the leftovers and still he had not called you back. You sighed and just called again, killing a bit of time by going around the house, lighting some of the candles you had out. But as it rang out to his voicemail once again you decided to just leave a message.

“Hey babe.” You started out, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings earlier. It’s just that…Harry is really important to me and I miss him, OK? I miss getting to be his friend and he just wants to reconnect a bit, OK? His hotel is like 2 miles away from the house and he’s going to come here for a bit. I’m not sure if you’re on the road home or just went out somewhere nearby, so I’m just letting you know in case you want to come by whenever. I love you, Seb. Bye.” You finished and then hung up. You then texted Caitlyn just to let her know what happened and assured her you’d call the following day to catch her up on everything. By that time it had been about 20 minutes and you texted Harry to let him know you were on your way.

Harry was relieved to hear back from you with your ETA. After it took more than five minutes for you to get back to him he decided to have a quick shower so that he wouldn’t have to do it if he got back too late. He was so nervous, he felt like his heart would beat out of his chest at getting to be with you again. And when it got to two minutes of you arriving he made his way down to the lobby. He was quick as he scurried out and just as he was walking past the valet you pulled up to the curb.

“Uber for Garry?” You called out the passenger window with a playful grin and he laughed as he opened up the door and settled in.

“Hi.” He greeted you, his smile wide.

“Hi.” You responded and then you bit your lip to avoid smiling like Demi Lovato in Camp Rock. You were far too happy, you just needed a second to gather yourself. You were just taking each other in for a moment before someone honked at you and you jumped as the harsh sound startled you both. “Jesus…Sorry.” You mumbled before you started peeling away from the pick up area. Harry was chuckling beside you and you just rolled your eyes at him as he poked a bit of fun.

“How’d it go with Seb.” He asked, changing the subject.

“It didn’t…that’s why I took so long. Tried him a bunch of times while I finished cleaning up after dinner. Gave him a bit to call back and he didn’t so I left him a message. I did tell him that he could drop by whenever just to…see for himself that it’s fine.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

“Yeah…I just don’t get where all this suddenly came from. Like, I’ve been straight up about everything since I saw you last week and he was fine about it.”

“Maybe he’s just jealous.”

“Well yeah, but that doesn’t mean he has to distrust me.” You said and he nodded.

“That’s true. Well look, let’s not worry about it now. We can have a nice time and catch up…” He smiled and you nodded.

“Have you eaten dinner?”

“Nope.”

“Should I stop somewhere? Or there’s food at the house if you want that.” You said and he nodded.

“Yeah, that’s alright.” He smiled and you nodded. “Do you still cook a lot?” He asked and you smiled and nodded.

“Oh yeah, avidly. The kitchen continues to be my happy place.” You confirmed. “Caitlyn is on this vegan kick until next Thanksgiving, so I’ve been trying out a bunch of new stuff that she’s recommended I learn to cook for her.” you explained with a smile, “Seb is losing his mind about it though, all he eats is brown rice, chicken, and fish.” You explained, “Tonight I made like a veggie stir fry type of thing? With zucchinis and other types of squash, carrots, mushrooms, bell peppers, and some beyond ground beef.…”

“That sounds excellent.” he said and you smiled.

“I thought so too! Never thought I’d have to persuade a grown man into eating that many vegetables.” You said of Seb and Harry chuckled.

“I don’t even want to know what that means…” he mumbled jokingly as he glanced out the window and you laughed. 

“Not like that…” you giggled.

“Sure…sure.” Harry hummed as he side eyed you, who just shook you head in response. “Well you don’t have to persuade me. Though I’m not sure if I should just have you persuade me depending on what you’re persuading people with.” He teased and you rolled your eyes.

“I promised to make his favorite meal next time. That was the persuasion.” You clarified and he chuckled.

“I mean, I’ll still take that…do you even remember-”

“Of course! Branzino al Limone. How could I forget?” You asked with a smile as you glanced to him briefly, and he grinned in satisfaction. “Perfected the recipe last time I went to Italy actually.” 

“Why? For me?” He asked smugly.

“Ummm, because it’s good?! Also it was one of the dishes in the cooking course I completed there.” You said and he chuckled.

“Well that’s good.” 

“Yeah.” You smiled. 

You and Harry bonded a lot over food, it was basically one of your biggest love languages in your relationship. You loved learning together and you taught him a lot of the things he now knew. You wanted to ask if he cooked for his girlfriend…he probably did, it was part of his charm, part of the wooing process. He invited his love interest over to his and made you his perfected risotto al pomodoro and then had the other person involved in helping with dessert and while that went in the oven you’d kill some time by…well, you reckoned anyone would know what you filled that time with. It was basically straight out of a romcom. He even did it for you when you started dating. But you were much younger then so it was all the more impressive that a man pulled out all the stops like that.

You then wondered if she cooked for him as well. Did she do things better than you or was he left wanting just a bit more, forced to remember you every time she took a stab at his favorites? Or did they even do that for each other in this relationship? You wanted to know about it, but at the same time you knew that any knowledge of how his relationship worked with someone else wouldn’t really benefit you in any way. As long as he was happy, that was all you needed to know.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” He suddenly asked when you grew quiet.

“Nothing, just ummm, just thinking.” You said as you glanced at him quickly, “We’re nearly there.” You said and he nodded as you turned down to a residential street. The houses there looked to be of an older build, but they were still very beautiful. There was the odd bright white millennial cement block people were obsessed with currently, but other than that, the neighborhood you were in seemed to embrace the older LA architecture for the most part. “S’that one there in the corner.” You pointed to your right and he smiled as he saw your little corner house.

“God it even looks like England…so much green!” He chuckled happily as he glanced at you briefly before looking back as you got closer. 

Yeah, whoever lived there before her absolutely covered the property in plants. The entire front of the property was lined with a hedge that he assumed was his shoulder height or so. And then running diagonally through the front lawn was a little path of steps to get up to the front door, it was lined at each side by some of those little stake lights and blocked off by a little iron gate. You had some free driveway for guests and then another gate to close off the access to the backyard.

“Let me open up the gate,” you said as you unbuckled your seatbelt, “My control is out of batteries and then I bought the wrong-”

“I got it. I want to snoop your lawn.” He said as he unfastened his own seatbelt and you smiled.

“Yeah sure. The gate code’s-”

“Your birthday?” He asked with a knowing smile and you chuckled, “Still your birthday?!” He asked teasingly and you shrugged. “Oh, I’ve missed you…” he hummed quietly, smiling to himself now as he hopped out of the car and walked over to the little keypad at the far end of the gate. “Six digit and pound I assume?” He called out in question.

“Yes!” You shouted and he gave you a thumbs up before entering the numbers. Just a second later the wooden gate started to open inward, allowing you to drive in and he allowed himself to then wander down to the sidewalk where he unlatched the gate to get up to the front door.

It was so pretty out there. There was a a flower garden against the gate on the right side  and thanks to the LA weather they were still in bloom. He could even smell some of the lavender planted there. He followed the path up to the well lit front door and smiled as he saw the beautiful deep teal colored door. There was a big window to some room in the home, possibly the living room, though he couldn’t really make out what it was to because of the thin curtain over it so he just focused back on the door. He just couldn’t get over the color. Then at the foot of the door he spotted a welcome mat reading “Sup. I’m mat.” And Harry immediately burst into laughter and glanced around again to see some wind chimes dangling off of the corner of the drop off of the roof. The grass was well kept and there seemed to be plenty of space to sit out here if you wanted to in the evenings when it cooled down…

“What’s so funny?” You suddenly asked and he turned around to see you coming up the steps.

“Mat.” He said pointing to the welcome mat and you giggled.

“Oh right…$10 if you guess who got me that as a housewarming gift…” you said and he chuckled.

“Oh Caitlyn…I’ve missed her too.” He said and you sniggered. “I really like the color of your door.” He complimented.

“Thank you.” You smiled.

“And the yard is so nice and lush. Love the hedges.”

“Yeah? I’m thinking of getting rid of the hedges.” You shared.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. Like I like them for privacy but it just seems so closed off to me.”

“I can see that…What does Sebastian think?”

“Who cares? He doesn’t live here.” You sniggered and he chuckled and nodded.

“Well personally, I’d keep ‘em. You’re so close to Sunset that when people find out this is your home there are bound to be TMZ tour busses rolling to a stop every hour and a half.” He said and you sighed as you realized her was right, “Besides, it just kinda feels like your own little world with them, you know? Almost like secret garden type vibes.” He said as he looked around the area again and you smiled.

“Well thank you for your input, I will consider it.” You assured and he smiled, “Alright, lets get inside.” You said and keyed your way in. You had one of those keypad doors as well because losing keys was your hidden talent.

“Oh wow, this is so nice!” Harry complimented as he looked around inside.

“Thank you.” You smiled as you slipped out of her shoes and he did the same. “Want a tour?”

“Yeah!” He agreed eagerly. 

With that confirmation you first guided him down the hallway towards the master bedroom and let him wander around in there for a bit. It had a door to the backyard as well so he looked out there and let her talk about her plans for her little studio before you wandered into the bathroom and closet. He was obsessed with her shower and even snapped some pictures to see if he could do something like that at his place. Then you went to the guest bedrooms to look around in there, and then you stopped in the living room on their way to the kitchen.

“Hey! That’s mine! I think…” He smiled brightly and pointed at a painting of an array of colorful, small and silly, misshapen faces. He walked up to the wall in the living room with tons of art hung on it and studied that one.

“Oh yeah, it is one of yours.” You smiled, “I found it when I was cleaning out my storage unit!”

“God, I was so fucking high when I painted that…” he recalled and chuckled as he shook his head.

“Were you?” You chuckled and he nodded, glancing back at you for a moment before he looked back to the painting.

“Can’t believe I even gave it to you. It was a secret Santa gift, wasn’t it?” He asked as he turned back towards you, fully this time and you nodded with a smile in response to his question. “It’s pretty cool. M’glad you kept it.” He said more softly.

“Of course I did. I love it. It really catches the eye. S’the one people ask about the most actually. Especially when they see the signature.” You said and he chuckled.

“You’ve got a lot of cool pieces.” He added.

“Thank you.”

“Can’t believe we never even went to a museum together.” he said as he turned back to the wall. “Such a shame…”

“Hey, maybe one day.” You said and he smiled as he turned back to you, “Alright, lets get you fed.” You said.

“Yes, please!” He concurred and followed you through to the kitchen. 

You fixed him a plate and told him to feel free to keep looking around the house while it warmed up. You checked your phone again and Seb had not even sent a text in response yet. You were getting worried now, maybe he was serious when he said he was done. You still didn’t think you’d done anything horribly wrong, he had been quite demanding and unreasonable in your opinion. 

When Harry came back into the kitchen to find you staring at your phone he frowned.

“Hey, everything alright?” His presence startled you a bit, but you nodded quickly.

“Yeah.” You assured and he looked at you skeptically, “I swear. I was just checking to see if Seb got back to me yet.”

“He hasn’t?” He asked and you shook your head as you set your phone down and turned to the microwave to grab his plate. When you turned back he sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Har.”

“But it is…if I hadn’t insisted t-to have some time with you then maybe-”

“I wanted to have time with you too.” You reminded and slid the plate over to him across the counter and he settled into one of the stools along the island. You then turned around to grab him a fork. Once he had it in his hand he quickly started eating.

“This is delicious.” He moaned with a partially full mouth, “Missed how you cook.” He tagged on happily and you smiled.

“Glad you like it.” You hummed and then started to pack the leftovers back up again. “Do you want some wine or water? I also have Cutwaters, which are quite traumatizing but-”

“Are you gonna have that?” He asked.

“I will if you will.” You said and he chuckled.

“Yeah, alright. What flavor?”

“S’the Long Island ones.” You said with a slight grimace and he mirrored your expression.

“Do you have a death wish?” He asked and you sniggered.

“There were gifted to me with a PR package, OK? Didn’t just want to throw ‘em out.”

“God…just one though, those are alarmingly strong.” He reminded.

“Oh, I know…I hardly even drink anymore apart from the occasional glass of wine. I might only have a cocktail, two max, at events but it’s pretty rare now. So one will definitely do it for me.” You chuckled and he did as well as you turned back to the fridge to open up the box. You came around to the stools and set the cans down and then sat in the spot beside him. “So what did you girlfriend say?” You asked against your better judgment but you had to know.

“About?” He asked, glancing to you before taking another bite of food.

“Us. Hanging out tonight.” You clarified and he hummed.

“Oh! I ummm, I just decided not to mention it to her.” He confessed a bit shamefully, “I was going to but I’m not sure of what her reaction would be and that scared me a bit. And either way, I would’ve come seen you regardless of her opinion about it, so if she’d gotten angry well, I didn’t want to lie and pretend I wasn’t gonna see you on top of making her angry…” he rationalized his decision and then went back for another bite of food.

“A lie of omission is still a lie…” you hummed and he shrugged.

“Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.” He mumbled and you sighed and nodded. “I-is that bad?” He asked.

“What?” You asked.

“That I don’t care what she’d think of us reconnecting.” He said and you sighed.

“I think, in a black and white world the answer is yes, but it’s not. And more than that, I mean, it’s us. It feels wrong to be strangers.” You said and he nodded. “But I mean, in a way it’s good that she’s new in your life because she doesn’t really know how we were together, you know? So she has nothing to worry about. Not that there is anything to worry about at the moment, but if she’s on the insecure side then it could cause her some concern.”

“Like Seb.” He said. Not meaning to, but instinctually having to point it out.

“Yeah, I guess so…” you sighed.

“Maybe he does have something to worry about?” Harry said and you turned to him with a furrow in your brows and then his arched up, “Not with me! Sorry that came out wrong, forget I said anything. Sorry.” He rushed out and took another bite of food.

“If not about you then what?” You asked him as he chewed and he shook his head.

“Just forget it. I misspoke.” He mumbled after swallowing it down.

“H, don’t- don’t do that to me.” You said lowly as you looked into his eyes and he sighed.

“I just…just don’t take what I say to heart, OK? I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.” He prefaced and you nodded, “S’just something a friend told me about their overly jealous and insecure partner that came to mind. She said that often times those people are so worried about what their partners are doing as a form of…projection.” He said and your eyes softened and you looked down at the counter as the implication of what he was saying weighed on you. “Those kinds of people are often paranoid about their own hidden secrets or agendas being uncovered that they try and-” he stopped when he saw you pick up your can and chug it down for a few seconds before setting it down.

Your chest was rising and falling hard as you caught your breath. You weren’t sure if your throat was stinging from the overload of carbonation you’d just gulped down or from fighting off the knot seeking to lodge itself in it. You hadn’t considered that before. Maybe you were naive, but you always trusted that your partners had your best interest at heart. Though you had been cheated on twice by the same person in the past, this was right before you met Harry. And well, things with Harry had been so great that you were largely able to overcome your trust issues over the course of your relationship with him. You healed from it, but now it seemed like it was maybe a thing again.

“Hey,” Harry spoke softly and grabbed your hand and you turned to him, “I know Seb, he wouldn’t do that to you.” He said with certainty, “He was in love with you for five years, maybe more, and never did a thing about it but wait his turn.” He said and you blinked a few times and nodded, “I’m telling you, it just came to mind but I shouldn’t have said anything. It doesn’t- it’s not the same situation.” He emphasized.

“Maybe we’re wrong for this. Maybe we just need t-to let it go. The past is the past, there’s no need to stir up trouble in our present lives over something that clearly wasn’t…wasn’t meant to be.” You said quietly instead and he frowned.

“You can’t believe we weren’t meant to be, Y/N. Of course we were.” He insisted with conviction.

“Then why did we give up?”

“Bad timing.” He said simply.

“Well aren’t you happy right now? As things are.”

“Sure.” He said, “A-are you?”

“I am…I mean, I know I could be happier, but I’m getting there. And it’s not because of you or anything like that, it’s just that Seb and I are still a bit new. And we have a lot more work to do on how our relationship works, clearly.” You said with a smile and he smiled as well and reached for his own drink.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked and you nodded.

“Desperately.” You said and he smiled.

“Yeah, we can talk about it then.” He assured.

“OK, you finish up here. I’m going to get my makeup off and out of these clothes.”

“Yeah love, take your time.” He assured and you smiled and hurried off. 

Harry finished eating in silence, debating on whether he should tell Tay about coming over to your place or not. Maybe you had a point, she wouldn’t freak out about it like Seb did because she hadn’t seen you guys at your peak. She didn’t know how it had been between you two to be worried about anything happening. And as that thought crossed his mind it then dawned on him that maybe he was also right, about the projecting thing. Maybe he was projecting this feeling of disapproval and rejection from her because he knew he was in the wrong for this. He knew that being here with the person he wholeheartedly believed was his soulmate was such a test…

His own lyrics then came to mind, “my hand’s at risk, I fold”. He’d written that about you all those years ago. He felt then that you’d both put so much into your love, you’d both bet on it with everything you had only for you guys to realize that it wasn’t panning out how you hoped. So you both just pulled out of it before you could get anymore hurt or suffer any more losses. Had folding been a mistake? That was a question that was constantly orbiting in his mind. Had you guys held on a bit longer, would things have suddenly turned around like you’d been betting they would the whole time? Had you guys been too hasty with giving up? That’s what it felt like to him, giving up. He hated giving up. He had felt defeated for so long

and maybe he was here because he was supposed to be. Running into you like he did, talk about the luck of the draw…what were the odds? He dwelled on that thought as he washed his dishes and dried them up. And then he picked up your can of Cutwater to weigh out how much catching up he needed to do and then did just that. He groaned in disgust at the sweet and bitter after taste and then grabbed your can again and made his way to your living room. He set them down on coasters you had at your coffee table and then went to the window to pull the thicker curtains over your window. 

“Hey, can I use the fireplace?” He shouted out and after a few seconds he heard you shout back a yes. So he quickly got a fire going, it was just a comfort thing he supposed. He loved the sound of the crackling firewood and the smell of it burning slowly over the open flame. He got it going and then moments later you came in, your feet in your slippers and your body warmed up in some yoga pants and a crewneck.

“Sorry I took so long.” You apologized.

“S’alright, took the time to clean up after myself and catch up with you.” He said glancing towards your drinks and you smiled and reached for yours, so he grabbed his as well. You tucked one of your legs under you as the other dangled off of the couch. Harry just waited for you to start.

“That’s one of the things I’m struggling with, about Seb.” You started.

“What?” He asked.

“He’s just…a little…helpless. Or lazy, I don’t know which one.”

“Hmmm…”

“Yeah, he didn’t grow up like we did. With everyone pulling their weight, everyone thinking of how what one person does can affect the other. How, you can’t always have it your way, you know?” You explained and Harry nodded. “He’s the youngest of three, has two older sisters, so he never had to lift a finger growing up. His dad’s a pilot and his mom just stayed at home and looked after them. They supported his dreams of being a singer from the get go, like our parents but, they paid for him to come to LA and live here. They had the means so he didn’t struggle at all, his only challenge was just to get a scout’s attention. So fundamentally, we have very different values I think. Especially of what it means to work hard at something. So right now that he’s upset at me, it’s not so much to do with you as it has to do with the fact that he’s not…getting his way.” You explained.

“So he’s a brat?” Harry said with an amused smile.

“Basically…a bit.” You said with a small smile, “And I do love him, but I don’t think it’s…enough to…to make me truly move on like you have.” You explained. He reached for your hand and you squeezed it for a second before letting go.

“Don’t think I’ll ever truly move on from you…” he said, “I’ve been thinking a lot about when we ended things. Like what if we had waited just a little bit more and things had worked out?”

“Would you have…wanted that?”

“Of course.” He said with certainty. “Yeah, I’m happy now, but I’ll always wonder if it’s just another path back to you…I don’t know if that’s…romantic or just plain obsessive.” He chuckled a bit and you smiled.

“Maybe a little bit of both.” You said and he smiled, “I’ve been thinking about how fucking insane it is that we ran into each other at Westlake.” You said and he gasped.

“Me too! Been thinking that since we saw each other.”

“I never go to Westlake if I can help it…like ever. So the odds of me even being there are…astronomical.” You said.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah! Honestly, I’ve delayed recording by a day or two if it’s the only one with open slots.” You giggled with a shake of you head. Maybe it was crazy of you, but you felt like the place was cursed. 

“That drastic!? Why?” He asked, his face scrunched up in a confused smile and your smile faded slowly.

“Ummm…that’s where I was, when you…called.” You said and his eyes softened.

“Oh.” Is all he could say.

“Yep, suite 2.” You said with a small, sad smile, “I feel like the place is cursed.” You told him what you’d always thought.

“And isn’t two the number you dislike the most out of all the even numbers?” He asked and you chuckled.

“Yeah, actually!” You confirmed.

“Don’t you think it’s too big of a coincidence that our paths crossed for the first time in years in the same place we ended our relationship?” He asked.

“Of course, I do.” You sighed and shook your head.

“Do you think it’s…a sign?” He asked and your gaze softened as you looked away.

“D-don’t do that, H.” You said with a frown and he scooted closer.

“Hey, look at me.” He said softly and you glanced up at him, he was just inches from your face. “It’s been you the whole time, you have to know that.” He said softly.

“I feel the same but…but we can’t…” your voice cracked as your eyes welled up.

“Why not?” He asked you, grabbing your face now, “Why can’t we just be together how we’re supposed to?”

“Because at some point we weren’t supposed to. We can’t hurt the people in our lives like that. They don’t deserve that.” You sniffled and he swallowed thickly.

“You’re right. You’re so right.” He sighed. A moment of weakness for him…what was he thinking.

“It doesn’t mean I don’t love you, Harry.” You said and he nodded.

“I know…I just…I can’t believe I said that…so ridiculous.” He sighed, feeling so ashamed for even suggesting it and now you reached for him.

“It’s not, Harry. It’s not like I wasn’t thinking it too.” You said and he squeezed your hand a bit tighter.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, of course. How could I not…” you said and he bit his lip.

“Look, maybe not now but what about a few years from now?” He said and your mouth dropped open a bit.

“What?”

“A few years from now, if we find ourselves alone again we try again.” He said and your lips turned up.

“That’s…that’s wild…”

“This whole thing has been wild! I mean, all of this was just a twist of fate. I can’t let this go to waste without trying. You’re my soul mate, I just know it.” He said and you exhaled shakily, “Tempt fate with me, love. Just one more time.” He appealed and you chuckled.

“OK.” You agreed.

“Yeah?” He asked happily, his heart pounding hard in his chest.

“Yeah.” You whispered. 

Neither of you were really thinking too much about it when his hand came up to your jaw and tilted it upwards and your lips met quickly. When you both realized that you’d kissed you pulled away immediately. Your eyes met as a deafening silence came over the both of you. He hadn’t let you go yet and his eyes drifted down to your lips again, how he had missed the taste of them. The feeling of them against his own. He leaned back in and when your hand hooked around his neck he just smooshed his lips against yours with urgency.

You both sighed in relief at the feeling of kissing like this again. You felt like a wildfire right now, fierce and untamable. When his hands landed on your hips and pulled, you quickly got the hint and climbed into his lap. His strong arms hugged around your waist, making you feel safe and cared for in his arms, like old times. You smiled in satisfaction before his tongue licked at your bottom lip and you opened up easily for him. And when you felt your tongues meeting you moaned and slid your hands up to grab his hair to pull at it like you always would. But you were instead met with the smooth and lightly ticklish surface of his buzzcut and you started to giggle.

“Forgot about that.” You grinned, before pecking his lips lightly and he laughed with you. You pulled back just a bit, your noses skimming as your gazes met. You kissed him quickly again and pulled back before he could deepen the kiss again, leaving him wanting. 

“Baby…” he whined lowly. Leaning in and you turned your head a bit, his kiss landing at the corner of your mouth.

“We should stop before we do something worse.” you whispered and he sighed but nodded.

“You’re right. Sorry.” He whispered and you just smiled and hugged him and he hugged you back. It was just a few moments into your embrace when you guys heard a car lock beeping from outside.

“That’s Seb’s car.” You said, immediately recognizing the sound.

“Shit.” Harry whispered as he let you go and you clambered off of his lap quickly and assumed your previous seat. “Sorry for that. I promise I held off as long as I could.” He apologized and you shook your head.

“It’s alright, I wanted to. Was thinking about it the whole time as well so…” You reassured him as your eyes met and he just smiled at you. Seconds later the lock on the front door chimed, indicating it had been unlocked and then Sebastian appeared, standing at the entrance of the living room to see you and Harry sitting on the couch, a comfortable distance between the two of you.

“Hey.” He greeted you both.

“Hey.”, “Hi, Seb.” You and Harry greeted him.

“Sorry for just leaving like that. I wanted to call you back after hearing your message, but I wanted t’cool off a bit. Went to the bar and I didn’t realize I dropped my phone there. Luckily, someone found it and turned it in. Then I went to Jake’s to track it since he lives close to it and when I went back to get it the screen was all wrecked.” He said holding it up.

“Oh shit! M’sorry.”, “That sucks, mate.” You and Harry said and he chuckled.

“Just bad luck I guess.” He sighed, “So ummm, you guys just catching up?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, Harry’s telling me about performing at Slane Castle.” You said and he nodded.

“Do you mind if I join you guys?” He asked.

“Not at all, mate.” Harry smiled.

“Cool. I’ll get a drink too then.” Seb said with a small smile and you nodded as he headed off to the kitchen.

“Thanks for putting me on the spot.” Harry whispered with a disbelieving grin and you giggled.

“As fate would have it, you had an iconic tour this year, so you can tell the stories…” you smiled.

> Next Part >

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[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Handle With Care - Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: Reader and Aaron meet for the first time before she starts as a full-time nanny for Jack.

Notes: Hopefully will be at least 5 parts! I'm excited to be writing again :)

Word Count: 4.6K

I always believed in new beginnings, but as I stood on Aaron’s doorstep, rolling a suitcase in one hand and a Vera Bradley duffel bag in the other, I was tempted to question my resolute thinking. It had yet to fail me. Not when I was hardly eighteen and living on the other side of the country, vying for my spot at the esteemed culinary arts program. And not when I’m twenty-four with a stint as the private chef

Professional chef turned nanny–for my father’s beloved mentee, no less. My parents, ever supportive and ever loving, practically held an intervention when I showed up on their suburban door step a fractured shell of the bubbly daughter they dropped off at the airport. 

Five years later, I’m sleeping in the same bed. I had nightmares about leaving once again. And yesterday I gave up that bed for a full-time position as Aaron Hotchner’s live-in nanny. Aaron, who I never even met, is my father’s protege. He knew him as a whip-smart, young lawyer from a family Law dynasty at Quantico. My father took him under his wing and even after his early retirement from the BAU they would get together for an annual work lunch. 

I was nearly finished with my final year of the Los Angeles Culinary Arts Program when my fathers called to say that Aaron’s wife was murdered. I remembered thinking how lucky Dad was and how brave Daddy had to be. With one day off saving the world and the other left to hold down the fort with an awfully anxious only child daughter. 

One year later, I was unemployed and completely blacklisted from the culinary entertainment industry for reasons beyond my control and without my fault. I gripped the suitcase, my chipped fingernails so jagged they punctured my skin. 

Aaron had a nice house with a manicured front lawn, a big wrap around porch, and a fully furnished backyard. Clearly, he was a man with a lot of education and a lot of smarts to top it off. He worked hard. It showed, these neighborhoods of Arlington, Virginia weren’t cheap. No wonder my dads were dying to relocate to Georgia. 

The door swung open before I could work up the courage to ring the bell or knock on the dark cherry wood. Aaron answered. He wore a dark green men’s quarter zip that was pushed up, showing off his forearms. His dark, charcoal gray watch shone as he let me into his foyer. 

He had a foyer.

And a house that smelt like warm cinnamon and musk. 

“Y/N,” Aaron said, nodding to me with a smile, “Please give me your bags. And we’ll go sit and chat before Jack comes. His grandma is still in town and brought him to the zoo.” 

I complied. There wasn’t a need for me to protest. And clearly, by the looks of those forearms, he would have no problem handling my bags. I only brought a single suitcase, a duffel, and five boxes of books. Aaron’s mother-in-law, Lorriane, had been staying with them since Haley died a year and a half ago. But her husband broke his hip. Apparently, Aaron had added a mother-in-law suite for Lorriane and judging by the looks of his home, the suite I’d be living in for the foreseeable future was twice the size of my studio in LA. 

“Thanks.” I said, grabbing a seat on the brown fabric sofa, “My dad said I had to say hello to you for him. He still raves about you. Like all the time.” I chuckle, watching as Aaron hands me a glass of iced tea. 

“Marty’s a good man. He and Gideon built the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Our team is in constant debt to him.” Aaron spoke so formally, gesturing for enthusiasm with his hands. 

“Yeah, well. He’s always just been dad to me.” I smiled, the man I knew showed up to my field hockey games even if it meant holding office hours there. He was the most there dad I could ask for– maybe it was neck in neck for the both of them. 

“So Jack?” I said, breaking the silence. “How–how’s he been?” I couldn’t help but wonder. My dads had a close friend who helped them with their surrogacy journey, so while I didn’t have a mother in the traditional sense, the woman who I’ m half of  was still alive and in my life. Debra was more like an aunt to me, fun and spirited and eternally youthful. But I still had her. 

Unlike Jack, who’s Earthly ties to his mother were shredded in an horribly violent way. 

My dad hardly ever cried, but when he called and told me that Aaron’s wife died I could hear it in his raw voice. Aaron’s a man cut from the same cloth a Dad; stoic and responsible. He was a wall of somber trepidation, but somewhere deep inside I could make out the man that wasn’t cataclysmically destroyed. 

“Jack is…he’s a strong kid. I put him in therapy after it happened. He still goes once a week. Laura, she’s his therapist. She’s wonderful. Truly has helped Jack work through all this.”

“That’s good. That’s really good, Mr. Hotchner. It seems as though Jack has a solid foundation here.” I say, unsure what to say exactly. I can make an omelet six different ways, yet it’s lost on me to know what to say to a widower with a little boy. If I had to bear even a fraction of their grief, I’m sure it would break me. I would crumble. But these two boys? They’re a good man in the storm. And I know in my bones, it’s entirely Aaron’s doing. If that man is anything, he’s steady. 

“It’s Aaron. Please, Mr. Hotchner reminds me of my father.” He cringes, the lines on his eyes creasing, “Your dad said you’re a professionally trained chef? Unfortunately, Jack’s still squarely in the dinosaur shaped chicken nugget and baked tater tots phase. It’s been a struggle to get him to try anything new…for…for awhile now, if I’m being honest.” 

I nod, thinking that Jack’s food discouragement might stem from losing his mom. “Well, the way I see it, Jack lost his mom at how old? Four and half? That’s when we’re starting to really know what we like and don’t like to eat. His life was turned upside down and shaken all around when you lost her. So maybe he needed some consistency in a world of chaos. Not that your home is chaotic, it’s lovely and clean and happy. It’s just…loss…”

“Losing your mother as a toddler really fucks up your life.” Aaron says. He speaks so definitely, as if he means everything so ardently you could cast it into stone. 

“Yeah.” I add, somberly. “But I think we can get him to branch out. Make it a game. I’d love to cook with him. I can get him kid-safe tools so he can be involved in food preparation and cooking. Oh! Maybe Jack and I can have a garden. I’m sure that will get him eating vegetables and fruits.” 

Aaron’s neutral expression slowly transitions to a soft smile. He thumps his fingers on the wooden table, as he looks out through the deck. I could feel him glance back at me and then to the yard again. 

“I think that a garden would be lovely over on the side. It’s far enough away from the pool and patio.” Aaron offers, sipping his tea. It’s sweet tea, too sweet for me. Working in kitchens throughout my program has trained me to not only tolerate black coffee, but to actively seek it out. He smiles, his grin defining his face. “Good idea.” 

I feel heat at his praise. I like doing well, who doesn't? But after a series of mishaps and bad luck, an 'atta' girl is my Hail Mary of the month. I simply nod. “Simple things to start so he can see some quick results. I’ll get him super involved in it. Make him feel like he’s a part of a team.” 

“I work a lot. My team flies across the nation, as you know. It takes me away from here for days on end. It was getting too much for Lorriane. And how her husband broke his hip.” Aaron shakes his head, “Honestly, you couldn’t have shown up here at a better time.” 

He runs his pointer finger over the water rung pooled on the coasters. “Jack’s a very easy kid. Reasonable. But shy. He was shy even before Haley…even before last year. I’ve brought him to the pediatrician because he stopped talking for a while, but she said that we’ve all survived an immense trauma and our brains simply process and live through that trauma differently.”

Sitting there, I couldn’t help but think how lucky this little boy is. His dad was running up the hill; pushing that boulder up and up and up for an eternity. It must be an awfully lot to carry, without anyone to share the load. 

“Yeah. I’m sure it is? Is he going into Kindergarten after the summer?” I ask, wondering if Jack went to Kindergarten on time or if Aaron and his grandma kept him home when they lost Haley. 

“Lori, Haley’s mother, taught preschool for thirty-five years. She told me to keep him home for a year, let him be a little bit older and get the help he needs to heal and then send him. So I listened. I think that was one of the only decisions I made as a team this year.” 

Sympathy must have colored my face because Aaron’s demeanor shifted quickly. He sat up, sipping his iced tea and wiping his hands on his jeans. “So basically your weekdays are around 8am-7:30pm. And occasionally on the weekends when the team does have to be on location But recently, I’ve been trying to transition to a more leadership position at headquarters. Hopefully, that’ll mean less traveling.” 

I quickly journaled the hours down in my notebook. Live-in nannying hours are not for those looking for a job to allow them the life of leisure. Naturally that couldn’t possibly be true for a position whose main coworker is a five and a half year old boy. 

“Alright. So that’s summer hours. We’ll need to brainstorm lots of stuff to do all day. Maybe the library?” I write a small note to get ideas and have them approved by Aaron.

He nodded, “Yes, summer hours are a lot, but Jack will be going to a couple camps that his therapist recommended. So you can get a couple hours each day to yourself. I am ready to compensate accordingly. Between my new role at the BAU and other personal investments, we live comfortably. How’s $2,500 to start and then we’ll discuss a raise in the future. And naturally your room and anything you may want to eat or have will be covered by me.” Aaron says it again in a way that leaves no room for argument. He must’ve been a great lawyer; no wonder dad adores him. 

“That’s quite a lot of money.” I’m shocked and my face does a horrible job of hiding it. “I’m not a professional nanny. I’m good with kids. Really good. But I don’t do this for a living. This is you doing me a favor because if it wasn’t for you, I’d be a waitress at my dads’ country clubs” I cringed, my mind instantly filtering in an image of me serving one-time sorority sisters bottomless mimosas for an Easter Brunch. 

“I apologize if you though that it was up for discussion, Y/N. Your first month’s pay will be $2,500 each week. And then it will increase to $3,250 each week. If I’m asking you to work 13 hour days plus one weekend a month? I better be paying you that much. And you’re still on Marty’s health insurance?” 

I rolled my eyes, of course dad mentioned that to Aaron and of course Aaron double checked. Aaron just might have Marty, JD beat when it comes to thoroughness. “Yeah, till I’m 26. And that’s like…a year and change away.” I say, implying that it’s not up to me, or Aaron even, to know how long I’ll be with him. I wasn’t sure if I would ever venture out to LA again; not after what happened that sent me back here for good.

But the thing about food is that everyone wants good food, no matter where they live. And right now, the ones that wanted something good in their lives, lived in a lovely Colonial home on Moss Avenue. 

“I guess there’s no arguing with you, prosecutor.” I say, my voice increasing just so that it balances the line between teasing and something else…something else I should be too ashamed to admit. 

It elicited a smile from him and all of the sudden it was completely worth it. Aaron finishes his tea, and places it into the sink after dumping the remaining ice chips down the drain. 

“Non-negotiable. It’s in your contract. Along with a health insurance package should you need to go off Marty’s name. Plus all that tax information that I’ll get you someone to walk you through it.” Aaron explained. 

“Thank you.” I replied, grateful that it was both all above the table and that I would be given the resources to help me figure it out. Looking at the pile of paperwork in my lap, I was sure that if Aaron didn’t offer legal literacy assistance I would be way in over my head. “That’s wonderful. Really.” 

“I just…I just want my son to be a good kid with a good childhood. That’s all. I want to be there for him and if I’m not there, I want the next best thing there. You know?” Aaron said and I’m not sure if it’s a plea or statement. Or if it was stuck somewhere in the middle; lost at sea like Aaron was himself. An island unto himself, drifting as the tide rolled in. 

I break the silence. “What was Haley’s favorite meal?” 

Aaron smiled. His eyes, crinkling again. “She had chicken piccata on our first date. And we ate it at our wedding. And when she found out she was pregnant with Jack she made it for me.” I nodded, understanding the important link between food and memories. 

“Let’s make it. For Jack and you and Lorianne to share tonight before she leaves. It’s going to be a big transition for him to go from having grandma all the time to me, someone very new.” I expressed, hoping that I didn’t sound bossy or as if I wanted to parent Jack myself. 

“That’s a lovely idea, Y/N.” Aaron sighed. “But I never was much of a chef. I wouldn’t know the first place to start.” 

He leaned his hands against the table, a slight smile breaking the formidable since that had fallen between us in the moments before. I smiled back, standing from the table to reach my tote bag. 

I pulled out an apron, the kind that criss crossed over my back. It was denim blue with a canvas front and large pockets. 

“Move over,” I said, tying my apron, “It might be your kitchen, Aaron, but for tonight you’re kicked out” 

The chicken ended up being more chicken piccata adjacent than a true representation of the dish. I mixed a seasoned blend of flour and spices for the dredging. Then, butterflied and pounded the chicken breasts into thin pieces. 

Aaron’s kitchen was spacious and airy. There was a large island with barstools on one side and lots of pantry and cupboard space on the other. I stood at the island, dredging the chicken in seasoned flour before placing it nearly on paper towel lined trays. The chicken, thinned and butterflied, didn’t take long to cook in the oil and butter. 

I let the skillet heat up till the oil, butter, garlic, and capers produced a mouthwatering aroma. Aaron gave me a bottle of white wine, imperative to make the sauce taste even better. I added freshly squeezed lemon juice and lemon slices to the pan sauce, letting the brown bits cook a little bit more. I scraped the edges of the skillet, incorporating the sauce even more. 

I placed the chicken back into the pan, letting it absorb the lemony, garlicky flavor of the sauce. The sauce thickened, forming something that was similar enough to chicken piccata. I added a bit more butter to the pan, along with some lemon. I figured that it would stretch a little bit more for some sauce for the pasta on the side. 

The chicken was simmering in the pan and the pasta water nearly boiling, when Jack came home. He looked like his father, but must have gotten his lighter colored hair and eyes from his mother. 

Aaron walked into the kitchen with Jack, his hands resting on Jack’s shoulders protectively. Jack’s shy demeanor was evident as he peered over at me. I smiled and waved as I finished the pasta. 

“Jackie, this is Ms. Y/N.” Aaron introduced me to the young boy, who stood shyly by his father. “We talked about how Grandma Lorraine needs to go back home. And we’re gonna have a friend come and live here.” 

Jack nodded, his little mind clearly spinning and spinning to make sense of all this. He was clearly well adjusted, even for losing his mother at such a young age. 

“Hey, there Jack!” I smiled. “I made a good dinner for you and your dad. I heard you went to the zoo with Grandma. I love the zoo. Especially the tigers.” 

Jack nodded, eagerly walking around the kitchen island to talk about the zoo. “Yeah,” he said, “I liked the monkeys. They were funny. The babies were learning to climb and jump.” 

I nodded, plating up some food for Jack. “Super cool. They’re kinda like little people. The way they act and play.” I placed the plate on the counter. “I used the Cars plate. It was way too cool not to.” I crouched down and whispered to Jack, “Just make sure your dad doesn’t swipe it. Between you and me I can see him eying it from here.” 

Aaron chuckled, reaching high to grab not one, but two plates. He handed one to me before telling Jack to go sit for dinner. “You’re joining us. It’ll be good for us to get to know one another.” 

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Nothing you do would be an intrusion. And it’s good for Jack to see that we’re friends. He’ll be more trusting of you.” 

I nodded, understanding that it was very important for Jack to become used to me. Especially considering Aaron’s job could take him away for days at a time. 

“Alright.” 

Aaron nodded. “Sit. I’ll get your plate.” 

There was an understanding that washed over me. An understanding that Aaron was the kind of man that didn’t ask for things. He was simply used to things he wanted being carried out. I envied that security. Maybe if I had even an ounce of it I would still be hacking it out in LA. Or maybe I wouldn’t have needed to figure it out because I would’ve figured it out already. 

Jack and Aaron went back and forth, swapping facts about dinosaurs. Jack was squarely in the dinosaur phase. Five minutes in, and I already had promised to help him find a dinosaur coloring book, with dinosaurs besides just the “cool ones”. 

“Uncle Spencer says that some dinosaurs had heads as big as a car!” Jack said, practically shrieking with excitement as he recounted all the facts a certain Uncle Spencer had told him. 

“Uncle Spencer’s so smart. And he’s a kid!” Several of Jack’s stories started with the aforementioned Uncle Spencer and I couldn’t help but wonder where the connection lay. Especially if, like Jack claimed, Spencer was a child. Sometimes some cousins are so far apart in age they’re more like an aunt or an uncle. Perhaps this was the case.

“Spencer is on my team.” My face must have shown my confusion. I always wore my emotions and thoughts on my sleeves, something that failed me several times over. Most notably when my friends in LA would get hit on by men at bars in the most vile of ways. One of the blessings of being deemed unapproachable by men was being left alone, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t burdened by their lack of tact in seducing women. “And he’s 28…yes about 28 now, and has been on the team since he was 23. He’s brilliant. Jason Gideon, who worked with Martin, scouted him when he was hardly 21. His mind works in ways that are simply unexplainable.” 

“Which means he must have some pretty sick dino facts?” I ask, my question causing a prickly smile to appear on Aaron’s face. Jack giggles, he must enjoy seeing his father smile. It seems that even though the boys find themselves moving alone, smiles are few and far between. Especially from the elder Hotchner. 

“And three phDs.” Aaron cut the rest of Jack’s chicken, sliding his plate over and reminding him to at least try the vegetables. “It’s like these kids are getting younger as fast as they are getting smarter. Sometimes I just look at Spencer and my knees hurt. Then again, I’m pretty sure I would beat him in anything athletic. Even though he’s much younger.” 

I raised my brow instinctively, smiling. “Was that a joke?” I deadpanned. “My dad said you made two jokes the entire time he knew you. And the first was…”

I stopped myself short. But it was far too late. Aaron, like myself and my father, knew when the first joke he made to my father was. His wedding day. My father had long retired, and moved his mind and soul far, far away from the BAU. He trusted Aaron and Gideon to handle it. Instead he decided to live as himself, freely with his husband and their daughter in the suburbs.

If there was one thing that I shouldn’t have done the first night working with a nanny family consisting of a widower and his son, it was to bring up the marriage of the widower. 

When Aaron married his late wife, Haley. My fathers attended, but I didn’t even remember. It must’ve been one of those times that Nana would sleepover. I remembered it was painting nails, ordering Chinese, and watching Walker, Texas Ranger and Family Feud. I remembered it as falling asleep to my Nana’s snoring as Home Shopping Club glowed on her ancient TV set and waking up to her chocolate chip pancakes. My father remembers it was the first time his young protege made a joke. And Aaron remembers it was the day he married the love of his life. 

“Daddy?” Jack said, cutting through the silence, “I don’t like veggies. They’re too mushy.” 

“Don’t eat them, bud.” Aaron, murmured, his voice laced with a guard that I hadn’t noticed till now. It was careful, like he crafted each tone and cadence before he spoke. “We’ll figure it out, Jack. Come on, let’s show Ms. Y/N her room. Where she’ll be staying.” 

Each sentence is clipped and calculated. I nod, smiling as Jack stands next to his father. 

“I’ll clean up.” 

Aaron nodded, thanking me as he took Jack up to get ready for bed. Minutes later, the kitchen was back to normal and a couple extra meals were packed away for leftovers. I left a note on the counter for Aaron in the morning. 

Lunch is in the fridge.

I always like to make extras! 

Have a nice day

Y/N

Aaron returned, without Jack. “You didn’t have to do the whole kitchen. I don’t expect that. This isn’t a housekeeping job, it’s taking care of Jack.” 

“I don’t mind. Being a chef…or I was a chef, as much as a pain in the ass cleaning and dishes can be sometimes it’s a good way to finish it all. I don’t know…I don’t make sense.” I chuckled, trailing off in a rambly way that fully gave away my nerves. My previous blunder had shaken me, especially since Aaron seemed completely unnerved, even though I knew it stung.

“I suppose, sometimes I used to stay late to do all the paperwork, even though the interns usually will do it for us.” Aaron wipped his hands on his pants.“Anyway, let me show you to the room. I had it cleaned over the weekend and put Lorianne up at a hotel for a couple nights so there wouldn’t be any issues or crossover.”

Aaron led me through the rest of the house. It was neat and tidy and I didn’t expect anything else from someone like Aaron, even though he does have a young, energetic son. There was just something meticulous about him. Something so put together and careful. And then there was me. Messy and complicated and unsure and terrified. Anyone would be that after having the carpet pulled out from under them. And I couldn’t name a bigger carpet than having to bury your life. 

There was a locked door that led to what Aaron explained as my private area. “Jack and I won’t come over here. From the time that I get home in the evenings, or frankly, some days, till I leave in the mornings is your own. This is your spot in the house, but my housekeepers that come twice a month will clean in here, if you’d like.” 

I nodded, grateful for that added bonus. The small attachment was the size of a studio apartment. There was a kitchenette with a nook tucked into the corner with the windows. The furniture matched the rest of the house, clearly Aaron had spared no expense to add this attachment. The queen sized bed was pushed up against the wall and nestled into the corner. Next to it was a nightstand with a lamp. And, as I turned the corner, was the crowning jewel. 

“Are those built–ins?” I asked, staring in disbelief. “Those are so gorgeous. I have like, easy, a ton, of books. God! Can I use them?” I turned, practically jumping from joy as Aaron chuckled reluctantly. 

“Of course. This room’s yours.” Aaron must’ve carried my bags into the bedroom while I was cooking because all of my belongings sat on the floor near the set of love seats and armchair. “I’ll leave you to get settled. 8:30 okay for tomorrow?” 

I nodded, stunned beyond belief as I opened my boxes of books. Aaron handed me a set of keys, one to the house, the shed, and the other to my area of the house. 

“You’re the only one that has a copy. If you want others made, I’ll cover the expense.” Aaron explained. “Have a good night, Y/N.” 

“Good night,” I replied, hooking the keys onto my set. “And thank you for this room. It’s nicer than my apartment in LA.” 

Aaron leaned against the doorframe, “Of course, I think Jack'll be very happy. It’s been hard to trust others. With him, honestly…Jack’s all I got left.” I had known Aaron for about three hours, heard stories of his skill and professionalism and talent for years, but he wasn’t someone that I had known, let alone even met. But in those three hours, I could count several times where I saw a sliver of emotions.

“I’ll leave you to it.” 

“Night.” 

“And Y/N?” Aaron said, stopping me as I reach down to start shelving books, “Food does hold memories. You’re right. I needed it. We did. Jack and I. He needs to remember her.” 

“Food has memories.” I said, shrugging, “You’re gonna have to learn I know more than you think I do.”

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