#i also still need to figure out my birth certificate for my id so i could go do that as well

[ashtonisvibing]

apparently tomorrow the water's gonna be off all day so i gotta figure out what to do so i'm out of the house all day

cuz when i say the water'll be off that includes the toilet water so :/

[butterflywithsass]

Things I Wish I knew living on my own

This is gonna be pretty short at the moment (I'll add more later) because I haven't been living on my own for very long and I think there's still plenty that I still have to figure out. I'm also drunk as I write this so this might be rambling.

This is gonna be chock full of really obvious stuff for most people but stuff that really confused or stressed me out when I did it. It's also gonna have that obvious stuff that's not so obvious because no one really talks about it until you are on your own and you haven't the first idea how to start.

First things first. Money. You're gonna need it, so look up a bank that is in your area and look into the process of setting up an account. Some banks have this online, sometimes you need to walk into the bank and do it in person. In both cases, make sure you have a passport, birth certificate, or other ID on you, as literally everything you know about your financial state prior to this. Ask your parents if you need to, or someone who knows this, because they are gonna ask a lot of questions. Once you've got the account set up make sure to confirm your ID. I set up an account online, and since I forgot to do this step, I have now had my account deactivated and I need to start all over again. Don't be like me.

If you're in a foreign country like me, make sure you understand how the currency works, and set up a method to transfer funds without having to pay the tax every time. Set up an app like Wise or something similar so people can transfer you money and you can move it to your bank account. Make sure you have a rough idea of how much something is worth in each currency. I'm still adjusting to using pounds, and things would look really cheap until I realized that a pound is worth slightly more than a dollar.

Services. I mean stuff like wifi and tv and stuff. If you're a student, than your wifi is fine, just make sure you set it up right. Euroroam is a bitch, so make sure you google how to do it right and just follow it step by step. Ask for help. Just ask someone. I'm so serious. Another thing I'm struggling with is TV. In the UK you have to have a license for BBC iplayer. Don't listen to your British friends when they say you don't need it. You do. If you don't have it you will get prosecuted. I don't wanna get prosecuted. It's super easy, even if it's kinda expensive, and hey, you get access to everything BBC. Just google tvl.co.uk and something will turn up. You can use that super handy bank card you got when you signed up for the bank account.

Transport. buses, trains and shit. First of all, make sure you download all the apps and inform yourself on how they work. It's gonna be confusing especially if your an American country hick like me so nows the time to learn. Get the maps. Get the bus schedules and routes. Pin them on your wall. Also, There's often some super cool discounts you can get if you sign up. Where I am in Scotland at the moment there's such a thing as a YoungScot Card, where you can get bus fair free if you're under 22. If you're not in Scotland, chances are there is something like that if you look. Transport can add up. Don't get Uber or a Taxi unless it's your only option, in which case, GET THE UBER. It's better to pay a butload of money for transport than be stranded somewhere alone. Your safety is more important than money.

Printers. You will need them. Often, there will be documents that you need to sign on paper, and so a printer will be needed. Google places where you can get things printed. If you are a student, make figuring out how to print things at your campus library a priority. I'm about to invest in my own printer just so I can skip this process because it's exhausting.

Voting. Just because you're not in your own country, doesn't mean you shouldn't vote. I'm from America, and care very much about the results of the next presidential election. If you're already registered to vote, try and get an absentee ballot.

Which brings me to mail. Get some stamps, and make sure they are the right ones. There will be postcard stamps, and mail stamps, and international stamps. Get the international letter stamps for your ballot and put them on because mailing is not paid for outside of the US. Then fucking mail it! (I'm swearing at myself so I remember to do this part when I'm sober)

Phone number. You will need a new one. Get an Esim card (should be in your settings if you have an iPhone) Make sure your friends have your new number and test it out to make sure it works when you're in a new country. One thing about Europe, is that the old buildings really suck for phone reception. Also, if you want to make this simpler and can't remember numbers very well, use Whatsapp or Instagram to message people.

Mess. You may go into this with certain ideas of granduer when it comes to personal organization. Be real. You won't be any more organized or tidy on your own than you were with other people. Just make sure that the essentials are accounted for and forgive yourself for the rest. Keep a drawer or a basket for all that important shit like bank statements or that letter that says they're opening an investigation because you haven't bought a tv license so it's all in one place and you don't lose anything. If it's urgent, pin it on your wall (get a bulletin board for this). Do your laundry. If you have your own washing machine and dryer, good for you. I don't, so figure out how the system works with the communal washers and get on that. Once again ask for help. Wash your sheets. Wash your pillowcases. WASH YOURSELF.

Hygiene. I hate it too, but it will make you feel better about yourself if you are clean and your teeth are brushed. This is the first thing to go when you feel in a slump. I know. I hate showers. I hate brushing my teeth, but not doing it makes my self-esteem go down the drain and my depression goes on a victory lap. Just do it. If you can't do anything else on this list, or you feel like everything is too overwhelming, do this. It will make a lot of other things feel doable.

Food. Okay, scratch that. This might be the most important thing. I am currently making a late night dinner of dried mangos and wine because I didn't have the motivation do get dinner tonight which is a prime example of what not to do. Because now I'm drunk and hungry. Get a fucking fridge! Get a microwave! Go to the grocery store and buy food. Even if it's ramen or mac and cheese. At least it's food. At this point, don't worry about eating healthy, just eat. Since I'm not allowed a mini fridge or a microwave, I have to time my meals so I get into the dining hall on time which results in this... So if you're in a similar case, set alarms for meal times, and GO TO THEM! If you miss it. Find a place that has cheap takeout that you will eat as a fall back option.

Groceries. Find a grocery store that has the things you need, and see what kind of membership or regular discounts you can get. You will need it. Don't worry about buying too much food, or buying too much junk food. If you're gonna overspend on something, better it be this and not something else. Eventually, you will get a sense of what you actually like to eat and what you don't. But for now, don't be afraid to buy something just to try it because it might become your new favorite food. Make a running list on your phone of what you need to buy and don't worry about overbuying. If you buy something you don't eat or don't want, give it away! Your neighbors or classmates or friends might want it and food is always a good way to meet people and form connections. At my old school, I became known as the one who would always have a bag of storebought cookies on me in class if anyone was hungry and didn't have any other options. I was proud of that reputation.

Don't restrict your space. It can get easy to walk the same path every day, and never venture outside of the area you know well. But every so often, try and use that bus pass you got, and go a little further afield. Just wander. You don't have to have a goal. Just explore. Living in a new place is the perfect time to do this. I recently ended up in a random church just because the gate was unlocked and the door was open. I ended up accidentally eavesdropping on a late night discussion of eleventh-century catholic manuscripts or something I can't remember and came home with a pamphlet for the catholic church I'm never going to join but it was an experience. Make awkward conversations with the people you haven't met before because maybe you'll end up crushing really hard for her even though she's straight and has a boyfriend and you'll spend the next week hopelessly pining but at least it will be something to mark the passing of time, creeping at this petty pace from day to day. Maybe the way she describes how she's learning to dissect cadavers and the way her eyebrows tilt will inspire you.

It's okay to be lonely. It's hard to adjust to living in a new place. Especially if you're a student at a new school. It may feel like everyone is making friends but you. That may be true. You may find that your neighbor has already met a guy and they are really cute together, and they no longer really want to hang out with you. You may find that the person you connected with really well now longer remembers your name but that's okay. It is a superpower, knowing how to be comfortable on your own. It's something you must learn before you can make a lasting connection with anyone. Those people who are making friends so fast are doing it because they are afraid to be alone. You aren't afraid.

Don't overcomit. Sometimes, you might feel so guilty about not donating to a freind's program to help survivers of domestic abuse in africa that you offer to design a website for them. But yuu're swamped. You have three essays due next week and you need to have an opinion about Homer's portrayal of Ithaka and you're terrified every second you spend not working on your essays, so that yiu ccan't relax even during breaks because you're constantly thinking you're behind but now you have to design a website. Don't fucking do that, What were yoy thinking you fuckin idiot. Just give your freind the money and tell her you can't do it.

Keep in touch with people. Don't fall off the map. There are people you love who are still out there. Your gramma wants to know how you're doing so give them a call, but not when you're drunk that will just make her anxious. Call your freinds from your old school. Ask them how they're doing. When tey tell you they're going on a date be happy for them and don't think bout how single you are. Fuck.

Invest in your projects. Don't forget what you love. Join that Good Omens fanfiction group even though it's one of the few things that you're not obligated to do. Don;t forget your hobbies. Watch the thing that David Tennent was in even though you don't have any prior interest in true crime and watch yourself fall into another spiral of hyperfixation.

Read Shakespeare. Relate so hard. Spend an inordinate amount of time memorizing the Yoric soliquiy from Hamlet. Spend a fortune on tickets to see David Tennent play Macbeth in the west end. Let it be your light. The only thing you are looking forward too at the moment.

You'e on your forth glass of wine. You havent neber been this drunk before becuse you are a syupid American who has just moved to the Uk unserpivused. and you're stressing about exams. You were supposed to be working.

Goodbye!

[bri-to-the-future]

We all know the original screenplay for BTTF 2 where Biff gave the almanac to himself in 1967 instead of 1955, right? Well, I thought since everyone has been making such lovely stuck in the (insert time period here) AUs, it’d be nice if someone made a…

*drumroll*

Stuck in the 60s AU!

(All credit to PotatoLord’s Picrew!)

It’s just some vague ideas right now, but i love the concept and im definitely gonna flesh it out more once Spaceman from Pluto is finished!

Here’s what i’ve got so far…

80s Doc gets arrested in Hell Valley and insists that he’ll be fine and that Marty needs to go to the 60s and get the almanac

Marty is able to get it after some difficulty (same as in screenplay) and burns it, not willing to take it with him when Doc is at risk

He still gets stop by a police officer, still doesnt have a draft card or id to prove hes a minor, and still gets arrested

He asks Goldie to put out that his name is Marty Klein and that he’s been arrested, knowing that Doc from the 60s still lives in Hill Valley as an inventor

Doc shows up with bail for him and he looks way different than Marty expected. Also, apparently hes a chemistry professor at Hill Valley Community College, which is news to Marty

He gives him a lift to the barn where the Delorean is parked, Marty giving an extremely vague (at Doc’s insistence) explanation on why he’s there on the way, but when they get there they’re both horrified to find that the Delorean is absolutely totalled ((with no 80s Doc to scare the Peabodys away, they didn’t stop at just shooting Mr Fusion and went ham on the car, rendering it completely useless, but thankfully managing to leave the Flux Capacitor in tact))

Doc says he should be able to fix most of the damage but that it will take a while, a good few months at the very least but worst case scenario Marty could be there for a year or two, and there’s no way he’ll be able to fix the futuristic device on the back (Mr Fusion) so once it is fixed they’ll need a new plan to get the 1.21 gigawatts of power, especially since the lightning strike on the courthouse was an isolated incident in Hill Valley’s history

Marty is devastated and spends the first week or so just moping around Doc’s garage and keeping Newton company but after nine days of that Doc insists that some fresh air will do him some good and forces him to come to the college with him

He was right, of course, and Marty finally starts to lighten up and have fun with him again afterwards

After classes are done Doc finally gets Marty to go get some era appropriate clothes with him but when they see Lorraine trying to keep track of an entirely too small Dave and Linda while George looks at ties they immediately turn around and walk into a different store

They’re only able to keep that up for another few days before Marty’s court date comes (who knew his Mom was so anti-war??) and she comes to congratulate him on his innocent verdict after Doc shows the court his (forged) birth certificate proving he’s a minor

When she asks if he’s related to the Marty Klein she knew in high school he tells her they were cousins who were named after the same ancestor and that Doc is watching him for a while but he’s not sure how long

Marty figures out pretty quickly that Doc takes LSD and honestly he’s not sure what to think about that

One day he walks into the living room and Doc is sprawled on the couch with his jacket off for once, clearly tripping his ass off, but Marty spots these bizarre brown lines running the length of his arms that look like scars but were definitely never there in the 80s and honestly he’s a little too freaked out to care whether or not Doc is entirely coherent right now he needs to know what’s going on

“Doc, Doc, what the hell are those?” “What?” “On your arms, Doc, whats that brown stuff!?” And Doc has the gall to look fucking amused! “They’re Lichtenberg figures, Marty. Surely you’ve seen me with short sleeves in the future? The stretch all the way to my shoulders.” Marty is shocked. “Of course I’ve seen you with short sleeves, hell, you’ve had to take your whole shirt off cause of chemical spills, but I’ve never seen those before!” But then a look of realisation crosses Doc’s face. “Oh, of course! They were caused when I accidentally became part of the circuit when the plug came undone that night I sent you back to the future, it makes perfect sense you haven’t had a chance to see them yet.” “They were caused by WHAT!?!?”

Cue Marty having a guilt induced panic attack and Doc having no idea what to do because he’s still mid-trip but eventually getting the hang of it. Once Marty’s calmed down he decides he’s not gonna touch the stuff anymore, not when it impairs his ability to care for Marty (and even when he leaves, what if this had been one of his students?? No, best to leave the stuff behind for good)

Ofc this means once he does fix the Delorean his plan to power it is much less dangerous and terrifying. … its still similar though. Doc will still blow up the safety inhibitor at the power plant and Marty will still hook onto high powered wires, just at the power plant rather than over the grand fucking canyon (the plan is still a work in progress & i havent decided how long it will take Doc to fix the deloreon yet)

When Marty gets back to 85 (now back to perfectly normal Lone Pine Hill Valley, thankfully) the first thing he does is find Doc and give him a massive hug, which he returns just as enthusiastically

[greedkinggreaser]

Why do you always need to ask for basic necessities

Short story: Capitalism sucks bro -shrugs- It's either ask and pray I get some help or starve to death my dude (and be homeless again)

Long story:

Art currently is my full-time job as I take care of a 92 yr old woman. I live with 2 men who don't have jobs. (one moved out but back in after getting fired because of racism) and the other is disabled. Btw I am paying for everything with the money I make online which is NOT MUCH.

I need to ask because I don't have money so I can survive, I open commissions and adopts constantly so there isn't always asking.

I don't know dude capitalism sucks, I wouldn't even be having this stupid post rn if I had an SSC, and that's an entire fiasco rn because I can't even get it without an ID. :') and guess what you can't get without an SSC? An ID. Until I get food stamps figured out and an ID. I'm stuck.

I'd quick art/the internet if I had a job rn.

I don't even know what to say to these kinda questions? Like why does anyone need help with basic necessities? I'm low-income, and impoverished, and don't have a job rn cause I can't get a job.

I don't have a social security card anymore (looked everywhere for it), I don't have an active state ID, and I need to get a social security card that I need to get an ID. can't use my birth certificate to get it. So without the ID and SSC, I can't get food stamps to just buy food.

Like what do you want some admission of manipulation and guilt or a sob story?

Like I've mentioned I was abused and starved. I'm taking care of said person cause she's 92 and I live with her and she can barely walk 5 inches without falling.

My family that lives close enough does not help financially at all. like shit, they let me be homeless for a year and STILL starved me and abused me when I did move back. WHICH I HAD MOVED OUT FOR ORIGINALLY.

Also, no one is obligated to help and rarely does help. I get most of my help from friends and my partner at this point. I of course can't rely on them constantly, so I have this post if people wanna help and I open commissions when I'm not busy or going through it emotionally/mentally, or physically. (cause I do have health problems)

Stop asking me these questions? I won't ever have a satisfactory answer for anyone who asks this.

[theressomethinghappeninginparis]

There's a big trip coming up, I will get to Prague. I hope my university doesn't mind me missing for a few days more, or weeks, or in the worst case- whatever, I'll show you my current pages and my research during my train ride. It's relaxing to be around people and also not in Paris, the Monstrum will not take my ride for sure. If I keep saying that I'll believe it eventually.

Transcript of the first page: Thomas Luddick is a journalist working in Czech Republic with a fairly large internet following. He's especially hated among the local Mafia since his clues get them into police custody every now and then and the locals celebrate him as a kind of Robin Hood. I messaged him and am still waiting for him to get back to me.

Here's my train schedule from Paris, if everything works out. I'm taking my laptop with me to work on research and maybe get more clues on everything I can get my hands on. I also carry my phone, some cash absolutely not from Rennes, some...extra benefits from Bouchard, my notes and hopefully good luck, too. I start in Paris Est at 7:12, arrive at 11:03 in Frankfurt Main. Then, I get to Dresden, Bad Schandau, and Decin, and from there, I take the train at 17:22 to Prague. I hope this will be worth it.

Transcript of the second page: Here are my three tickets to Prague. I will keep them in my journal and will pack that in my backpack; the rest is already packed and I am ready to leave. I'm unsure of what to expect; I just want to visit Vailey's gallery, if they accept visitors. Maybe I can also snoop around his place?

Transcript of the third page: Here's the map, I'm boarded already and almost at Frankfurt am Main. On the other hand, I annoyed the tour guides at castle Bouzor/Kriegler and after some emails I think I can reconstruct the family tree that was the latest living in there.

First, the two castle owners, were count Ernst Kriegler and Eva Kriegler, hence the name of the castle. Both had a son, Johan Kriegler, who was killed in an Allied bombing that ruined parts of the structure. It is speculated they were members of a secret club (LV?), but I have no clues on that. What I know is they had some servants who actually survived the bombings, maybe they took over the castle afterwards? Gerhard Heissturm is the direct servant of the owners who survived; he went on to have a son: Konstantin Heissturm. He died in 2001; the tomb is decorated and fancy since his family is rich. He also had a son, Kurtis Heissturm, from whom only the birth certificate exists. Other than that he is erased in records. I should try to find him, and figure out if his family is a member of the Lux Veritatis. I'm sure he'll pronounce me insane for suggesting that but whatever.

Transcript of the fourth page: So, I of course tried to find this Kurtis but there is nada and niente about him. He is like a ghost. He is like he never existed and I only know he had because there exists a birth certificate. I shall dig into the darknet and look for him. I think he doesn't wantot o be found, but I need to know why and his ties to his parents and the castle and probably the LV, too. There must be something on him and also about his mother who is also non existent. No answer from Luddick yet, or the art gallery. I expanded my collection of fake IDs- don't do like I do. Bouchard claimed that Rennes had demand for these earlier so I might be in need of them, too. I hope they come in handy, they were good money.

Transcript of the fifth page: Here's my two IDs. The upper one is from the Strahov, whatever that is, and says "medical department" on it, so I guess it's some kind of institute researching someonething in medicine? As far as I know, there had been a Sanitarium close to the today's location of the Strahov, but it has been long closed down.

The second is another German security pass by a guy I doubt his existence, haha. The Strahov seems to be a military hig security area. I wonder. Medicine and military. How the hell can I get in there? And get our alive as well?

I'm glad I still have some hours on my trip to ponder over that. And maybe I'll get Luddick to talk to me, I guess he's popular these days but I can surely be of use to him, somehow. My research until now is at least...something.

[pepperdee]

How my life as been this week

-I ACTUALLY FUCKING GRADUATED COLLEGE AND I DIDN'T FUCK IT UP YEEHAW!!!

-The diploma has my chosen name!!!

-I got a 9-5 job doing what I did for my parents (print shop) which gave me an experience pay-bump, and had I graduated earlier I would've earned an extra 40 cents but it's whatever it's still $19/hr (very livable for my area). It's also for a hospital (this becomes important later)/

-However. Since I didn't have my college diploma yet, technically, as the hiring process started just before finals week, I had to provide proof of a high school diploma.

-I am 23 and only came out when I was 21 so my high school transcript has my deadname on it

-The guy I've been talking to to get through the hiring process had to call me and say "Hey, Evan...so we received this high school transcript from somebody with your last name...is your other name [deadname]?" "Oh, haha, yeah!" "OH COOL because we tried to background check you and you don't exist. So now we can background check you!"

-So fun fact about me is that I've lived in Missouri my entire life. Except I grew up around Kansas City. Which means that I was born in a hospital on the Kansas side. So I have a Kansas birth certificate.

-This is all to say that I had to get vaccination records, because though I'm literally working in a cave printing fliers and such, I have to be fully vaccinated, because I work for a hospital now.

-I requested vaccination records from Missouri. It was suspiciously empty. CVS does not report vaccinations to the state, apparently! So that's a fun fact!

-My roommate was afraid that my parents didn't get be vaccinated for HepB. I was. But it was reported to the state of Kansas. So I had to get my records from THERE too.

-All of this turned into me deciding to try and figure out name and gender marker change stuff.

-Cannot change gender marker on birth certificate because I just had to be born in one of the four states that doesn't allow it.

-I can change it on my missouri driver's license tho

-Except I'm moving to Kansas in six months. My friend says I can get it changed on Kansas IDs tho.

-Except in Missouri I have to have proof of gender affirming surgery and I don't know if that just means hormones (which I've done) or if that just extends to top surgery (which I want) or if that means bottom surgery (which I don't feel the need to get asap, if at all)

-And THEN there's the fact that the only thing that I own that is still in my parents' name is my car. and while yes they did buy me a lego tuxedo cat for christmas (which I only know about because they bought it through amazon and i forgot to turn off notifications, woops) they're still upset that I'm trans and I don't want to deal with the drama of having to tell them to sign a paper giving a car to my chosen name

-I was originally going to say "all I want for christmas is my car in my name" but then it took me a really long time to get a job that pays decently so I just put legos instead

-Luckily I now have a good job and I'll have to get my tags changed to Kansas when I move so I'll need to get the car in my name but I want to wait until I'm closer to the move so it feels less sudden

-when the FUCK do I get my name changed then???

[noel0999]

my story - pt 2 - russia

i was born in tula, russia. i don’t know much about the start of my life other than what is documented in the adoption papers.

Within the adoption papers, there are different accounts of what happened those first few years.

basically, at some point within the first year (so it seems, based on the wording on the paperwork), i was left with a male friend while my bio mom went to mosco. after an unknown amount of time the male friend brought me to a neighboring apartment where he said that he was meeting my bio mom in mosco and they would be back in a week or two.

after a few months of them not showing up, the neighbor called the gestapo. they came and took me.

this is where the story kind of gets confusing. the timing of things doesnt seem to add up to me.it seems like there is a skip in the timeline of the paperwork. after the gestapo took me, i end up in a hospital with kidney failure.

while i was in the hospital, there was a family (we will call them family A) i met that was there getting a check up on a little boy they were adopting.

this hospital was falling apart. the doctors and nurses looked like they worked in a butcher shop because of the blood smearing their white coats, that were covering the winter coats they had to wear because of the lack of heat.

in the mitts of this grimy place, i caught the eye of family A previously mentioned.

They were white americans, who had a child by birth at home in michigan.

They were adopting a boy younger than me, a little red head. they asked about me, about my story. The poor little orphan girl with no one.

they were given information to look into, and to my understanding started asking about adopting me as well.

after about 3 months in the hospital, i was sent to an orphanage. this is still all in tula, to my understanding.

i was about 3 at this point. which is where my confusion of the timeline comes in. how did i get to be 3? Where was i during this time?

I have ideas, which will come up later.

while in the orphanage, family A was working with people in russia to figure out how to adopt me. there were issues because the russian system needed to either make contact with my bio mom, or rule that there is no contact available, and no family available to take me. they started reaching out to different ares asking about bio mom.

After not being able to locate or contact any living relatives, they put me up to be adoptable.

Shortly after this happened, a woman came to the orphanage claiming to be my bio mom. the orphanage said she needed a birth certificate for proof and sent her away.

she never returned.

while at the orphanage i had a friend. his name is in the paperwork somewhere, he ended up being adopted to a family in italy i believe.

i also remember faint things. almost like images. its hard to recognize that is actually real and what my brain has conjured up over time. some of those memories include a bare room with only a little corner of limited toys. cold 'oatmeal' type food for most meals.

i can see a room with many beds, day clothes lay at the end of the bed, if you had any.

everything was dirty. outside was grey and bland. i can picture the "court yard" of dead plants and bushes. a train track runs along the right side of the building. a little path running through the "court yard" leading to a little bench.

i have always had a strange memory of an older man sitting on that bench. id go and say hello and talk with him.

family A was active in sending me photos of them, and asking to have messages from their emails translated to me in russian.

after about a year of back and forth, family A got the go ahead for the adoption.

they came to russia, under instruction to not speak to anyone as americans were not liked at the time.

family A made friends and accountancies during their year of emailing back and forth. when they came to adopt me, they took me to visit some of the people that helped facilitate the adoption.

i have photos of these people, but have no memory of who they are. they seem sweet. they seemed to care for me, and i them.

family A also took me to mosco, going to a fish market, and seeing a play.

ill find out years later, while reading a journal that was kept during this time by family A, that while walking around and interacting with strangers, family A thought i was behaving like a child prostitute. In paperwork later contributed, it states that i would walk up to men sexually and 'present' myself. whatever that means.

family A then continues the quest and bring me to the state of michigan.

(there will be typing and punctuation errors, fyi)

#trauma #abuse #lifestory #adoption #russia #sharing #divorce #blog #healing #depression #anxiety

[mousedetective]

Short For Bills - Please Help?

So I waited until the mail came to ask for help. I currently have seven unpaid bills, and the upcoming ability to maybe pay two of them. They are:

Car Insurance - $152.53

Small storage unit - $134

Electricity & gas - $72.64

Internet - $64.00

Credit Card #1 - $60 

Credit Card #2 - $70

Credit Card #3 - $35 

My mother applied for a credit card and if I’m lucky, I can pay the storage unit and the electric with that, but it hasn’t come yet and I have to pay the storage unit by the 9th or else we get hit with a late fee and I may not be able to cover both bills.

We also need help with gas and laundry. I have enough to get my son back to L on Sunday, but I have a doctor’s appointment the 15th in San Diego that I have to go to in person (mostly because it’s my rheumatologist and I’ve done my last two visits via phone so he can’t see how I’ve been physically on my arthritis meds), and we’re running out of clean clothes but to cover both trips I can’t do laundry.

Any help with any of the bills or $40 for gas and laundry would be a huge help. Even reblogging is a big boost and much appreciated. As I said, hopefully I can cover two of the above bills, but help with the other two would be great.

PayPal - afteriwake23@gmail.com

Cashapp - $afteriwake23

UPDATE 1: So two bills (sorta) were covered when my mom’s credit card arrived; apparently we didn’t pay the cable bill last month so as of today (3/8/21), I still owe $64 to them even though I made a payment. I still need help with gas; kidlet was telling us he’s afraid of L’s reactions to a lot of things and he wants to stay with us as much as possible (he says he’d move in with us but L would call the cops on him, which I think is bullshit on her part, but I do what I can do). Any help covering the bills or gas would be amazing.

(For anyone wondering, since most people know I pay my son’s phone bill, yes, it’s paid through for the month already so if things get really bad I told him to call me and we’ll come get him)

UPDATE 2: I moved the reblog from when I last updated my post to the actual post because I need help with a few more things. We have an application to get a social security card for my son (if my mom’s isn’t where we think it is), and he needs a state ID for that. L has flat out said she’s too busy to get him one so I need help with the monetary variety to get his ID and birth certificate, and of the information variety to figure out how to get a non REAL ID for him since he won’t have the social security card to get the California REAL ID (I have a regular state ID card, and I swear all you need is a birth certificate, but the laws have changed so IDEK what he needs anymore)

[clarebtw]

I wrote something lol

According to Webster’s Dictionary, immortality means, “the quality or state of being immortal”. Which a lot of people believe to be an enchanted blessing, living to see all of history's greatest achievements. I saw sliced bread become a thing and all of Betty White’s discography unfold right in front of my eyes from start to end. And before that I saw America literally become America. My father was in the Revolutionary War as was my eldest brother. Our mother died when I was just three years old of Scarlet Fever, which is just sick to think how curable it is in the twenty-first century.

I’m not exactly sure when my immortality began, I just remember turning thirty and still looking twenty years old. People would see my birth certificate and hear my birthday and get extremely startled, asking me for my beauty routine, seeing what my diet was, all of that jazz. By the time I was sixty, I had outlived all of my dear family members and was still looking like my younger counterpart. My younger counterpart who was excited to grow old with her partner, find love and have children. Maybe get an education like some other progressive women from her youth. But as I got older, the lonelier and smaller my circle had gotten. I had lost all hope, and had stopped counting the years. My birthday was March 28th 1722, but as the years went by, I had to change the year of my birthday every once in a while. I was over three hundred years old, in a twenty year olds body. Of course it was a complicated situation, I had a fake id made every couple of years, a remote job so I could move around whenever I needed too, and no close connections. Except one in particular.

Augustus Samuel Winn. A tall man, with a head full of lucious, thick, dark brown curls, and caramel colored skin. He was my one and only close connection. We had met in the 1960s, when big hair and mixed race relationships were controversial things to have. I had met him when I entered college to get my tenth degree, I was going to Columbia this time though. I believed a degree in women's studies would be interesting to have on this go around. I met him in one of my elective classes, sculpting I believe. And let me tell you, there is nothing more erotic than a man sculpting and carressing wet clay with his fingers. I would see him almost every Tuesday and Thursday just sculpting. Whether it was a fish coin bank or a very elaborate cereal bowl, I was mesmerized. I finally worked up the courage to talk to him after a couple of weeks of just staring and admiring, nothing gets accomplished when you just stare. But then something remarkable happened. He came up to me and asked me out, telling me that I had the most gorgeous hazel eyes he had ever seen. He then showed me his latest sculpting project which was a man and a woman dancing. Both figures represented us, the woman with a long flowy golden brown braid and the man with those big curls. At that moment, I was gone head over heels. There was no going back. Until three years later when I called it quits due to “commitment issues” when really it was about my immortality.

How would I explain to him that I was immortal and would eventually outlive him? How would I explain to our children that mommy would see her kids pass away before her? It was selfish I know but I did it to protect him, I just wanted him to be safe and happy. He deserved love with someone who could also grow old with him. Unfortunately I couldn’t give him that just because of my weird quirk. So we broke up in 1964 and I haven't seen him since. I went on to Grad school and he went on to become a wonderful journalist for the Washington Post. I hadn’t even thought of him until I was in Trader Joe’s this year. The year was 2022 and I swear I saw him in the cereal aisle. It couldn’t have been him though, the Post published a memorial edition of the paper when he died three years ago. Of course I stayed informed with whatever he was doing, he was my first and only love for god sakes. Besides it was impossible, I was just seeing things. Until he laid his eyes on me and had the same pale look on his face. With the same dark brown curls and gorgeous toothy smile. He hadn’t aged a day, neither have I and now I am left with a mind full of questions and a glass vase to pay for.

lol this was a au where the female protagonist is immortal and is shocked to find out her lover from long ago was also immortal. give me some feedback if you'd like lol

- this is clare btw

[writing-radionoises]

and so it goes

ship: not ship centric, background odazai

genre: fluff with a little hurt/comfort

prompt: ango never really knew how to celebrate his birthday.

notes: none of you bitches ever think about ango so I GUESS I GOTTA DO IT MYSELF /j

The calendar on the wall says it’s October 20th.

Funnily enough, the same date is on Ango’s birth certificate, on his ID, and just about every piece of identification he owns.

October 20th is his birthday, yet to Ango, it’s just another day.

Even growing up, it was just another day. He never bothered to celebrate it. His parents were much too busy to do something like that, the most he’d get was maybe a card and grocery money.

Sakaguchi never really had any friends growing up, even now it’s still a factual statement.

Ango lost contact with his parents and older brother years ago, when he first moved out and applied for an internship at the Special Division.

He has no doubt that they were just too busy to think about him.

So for about as long as Ango has remembered, it’s just been him drifting through life, without help or guidance.

Still, even then, there was a time when Ango had friends.

Ango readjusts his glanced haphazardly as he stirred his coffee, his free hand drumming softly against the coffee shop table.

“Ango, you’re finally here,” said a ginger man sitting at the bar, giving a wave to Ango from the door.

“It’s nice to see you, Odasaku,” Ango had replied simply, shrugging off his jacket and going to take a seat beside Odasaku at the bar.

Dazai peaked out from behind Odasaku, giving a friendly wave and a smile to Ango.

He seemed unusually happy today.

“Happy birthday, Ango!” Dazai greeted.

Ango stopped dead, glancing at Dazai with confusion before beginning to fumble for his wallet, pulling out his wallet for confirmation.

The date stared back at him in confirmation as Ango then glanced to his phone.

October 20th.

“Oh, I guess it is my birthday,” Sakaguchi confirmed softly.

“Did you forget?” Dazai questioned, raising a brow as Ango put away his stuff.

“Something like that,” replied Ango as the bartender passed him his usual drink.

“You don’t usually celebrate your birthday, so you don’t keep track of it,” Odasaku piped up, offering his deduction out to the group.

“Really?” Dazai replied, glancing back at Odasaku with shock.

Ango gave a nervous smile as he nodded.

“Yes, that’s the case.”

“Well, regardless,” Odasaku said with a sigh, reaching down and pulling out a gift bag as he set it on the bar beside Ango, “Happy birthday. As your friends and arguably your only family, we have to celebrate.”

Sakaguchi glanced over the gift bag before taking it into his hands.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to.”

“Open it, open it!” Dazai demanded excitedly.

Ango smiles and shakes his head in half disapproval before opening the bag and taking out it’s contents. Wrapped in tissue paper was a neatly crocheted coffee brown sweater. Ango ran his hands over the sweater, his ability triggering against his will.

“You handmade this,” Ango stated simply, looking up at Odasaku in disbelief as he nodded.

“Yes,” he confirmed, “Dazai suggested a few months ago I take up crocheting instead of picking at my skin. I’ve been making scarves mostly, and decided to try out a sweater for your birthday. Dazai picked out the yarn.”

Dazai gave a soft laugh from behind Odasaku, leaning into his shoulder.

“You look shocked,” Odasaku commented.

Ango couldn’t help the disbelief on his face, his brows furrowed together as he ran his fingers over the soft yarn over and over again.

“... You spent a whole month doing this… For me?”

“And I’d do it again,” answered the ginger.

There’s another kind smile on Odasaku’s face, it’s one that Ango knows is nothing but genuine.

Odasaku’s kindness washes over him, and it’s not long before Ango finds himself rubbing at his eyes from underneath his glasses.

“Oh, don’t cry!” Dazai replied, sliding off of the bar stool as he made his way over to Ango, throwing his arms around the other man as Odasaku took off Ango’s glasses, setting them on the bartop before moving in to hug Ango too.

“You should’ve expected this, we’re your friends,” Dazai said softly, nuzzling into Ango’s shoulder.

“I know… I know,” Ango replied.

A half laugh, half sob escapes Ango.

“I can’t see.”

It’s been four or five years now.

Ango’s boss has insisted he take the day off, though Ango is fairly certain it’s only because his coworkers pestered his boss to death.

Even now, it feels inappropriate to celebrate his own birthday.

No matter how many good memories of Dazai and Oda Ango has, the fact remains that he betrayed them, and now Odasaku is a dead man.

Ango’s sweater is left unbuttoned against his usual white button up, a hot cup of coffee in his hands as he walks through the graveyard with ease.

He sits down on his knees in front of the grave underneath the tree, reading over the engravings on the gravestone over and over as he’s done time and time again.

It’s not nearly as good as spending time with Odasaku when he was alive, Ango realizes this. Nothing could ever match the energy of having a conversation with Odasaku, but sitting by his grave is adequate.

If he thinks about enough, he can feel the kindness and warmth Odasaku had once shared with him.

“Visiting a grave on your birthday? Really, Ango?”

Ango’s head snaps behind him, to see Dazai standing in the cold hair, his hand tucked in his pocket and a smile as he sits beside Ango.

“You remembered,” Sakaguchi replied.

“Of course, do you really think I’d forget a friend’s birthday?”

Ango smiled, “No, but we also haven’t been friends in years.”

“Maybe not,” Dazai answered with a sigh, “But I’d never forget. Do you still not celebrate?”

Ango nodded, “My boss wanted me to take the day off, I’m not sure what to do with myself now.”

“You need a social life,” Dazai said with a laugh.

“Probably.”

Dazai lays his head on Ango’s shoulder, closing his eyes as took in the autumn air.

“Why are you here?” Ango asked.

“I’m always here,” Osamu answered, “And that’s not a joke, the whole agency will tell you. If I’m not at the office, there’s a good chance I’m here. I visit everyday.”

There’s silence between them for awhile as Ango glances at Dazai, and then back to Odasaku.

“He probably wouldn’t want us to be here, wallowing in depression,” Sakaguchi says with a sigh.

“No, you’re right,” Dazai answers, “He hated when I did that… I actually only came here to see if you were here. I figured you’d choose to be here on your birthday of all days.”

“All my friends either want to be dead or are already dead,” Ango said jokingly, to which Dazai gave a soft snicker to.

“Let’s get out of here,” Dazai offers, standing as he holds out a hand for Ango, “Go get a drink or something, I’ll celebrate with you.”

“You don’t have to,” Ango rebuttals.

Dazai only smiles in return, a smile Ango recognizes as one similar to Odasaku’s.

“I want to.”

[howaboutthat111]

From the Ashes, You Will Rise Pt: 7

Series Summary: You were eleven when the snap happened, and Peter was the last family you had left. Now he’s gone, and you swear you’ll bring him back.

Chapter Summary: Y/N visits San Francisco.

Series Masterlist

Its now been 5 years since the snap. You have been meeting up with Daredevil three times a week. According to him, you have excelled in it. He says you are almost done as well.

You still haven’t given up on Peter though. Everyday you go to the library to find a new quantum physics book. Everyday no new answer. The only option you could think of Hank Pyms stuff.

“Hey, so Apollyon, I was wondering, do you know anyone who is good at making fake ID stuff?” You ask Daredevil using the nickname you had given him months ago. You walk over to the rag you have on the corner and wipe down the sweat on your face.

“Yah, why?” He ask, doing the same as you.

“I need to get some info from somewhere, need to be older to get in,” you tell him, following what Peter told you to do when telling a lie, only tell part or a vague truth.

“Oh ok then write this down, 693 613 9836, call this number and ask for Maverick, he’ll hook you up. Just don’t be buying any beer with it ok.” He says joking, as you giggle.

“I won’t, don’t worry. I gotta go though see you next week?” You say as you begin leave.

You turn around only to suddenly come face to face with a woman with black hair, dark brown eyes, and a leather jacket with some jeans.

“Hiiiii?”, you say, unsure of whom this woman is.

“Hi”, she responds, pushing past you and going over to Daredevil. You watch as daredevil walks towards her grabbing her shoulders and pushing her towards you.

“Wow their Jessica. It’s be rude not to introduce yourself,” he says, pushing her towards you.

“Hi I’m Jessica”, she says, sounds rude and annoyed as she holds out her hand to shake.

“Hi I’m Y/N”, you tell her, taking her hand to shake. Right when you make contact with her, you feel a rush of power, feeling better than you have in a long time. It is also at that moment when Jessica releases you hand and falls down.

“Jessica!” Daredevil says, slowly lowering her to the group.

“What-what are you”, she says, looking at you with eyes filled with rage.

“I-I-I don’t know,” you say, grabbing your stuff and running towards the door. But once u grab the handle to pull it open, the hand brakes in your grip. You hold it in your hand, shock written all over your face. You throw the handle to the ground, pushing the door open and running out. As you are running you get out your phone, and dial in the number Daredevil had give you.

“I’m calling for Mavericks.”

——————————————————————————

You get out of the taxi, looking at the building in front of you. Its a huge, well kept warehouse in the outskirts of San Francisco. Before walking inside, you put on the gloves you found at the homeless shelter. Since the incident with Jessica, you have been wearing gloves everywhere, having as little human contact as possible. Once you are able to contact Mr. Stark, then you can figure out what exactly happened. You walk into the building, looking at the glass wall with a man behind it in a security guard outfit.

“ID, birth certificate, and proof of relative please.” The man says, continuing to stare at his magazine. You push everything under the little slot on the glass. He looks them through real fast, then sliding them back through the slot.

“Lot 417” he tells you, still not looking up.

“Thank you”, you walk down the hallway, being surrounded by lost memories. You finally arrive at 417, seeing random objects surrounded by a red van. You open the gate, and walk into the front seat of the van. There are several random papers littered around the van. In the middle console, there are random buttons. You start touching random buttons, seeing if anything would happen. Nothing happens when you press the first three buttons, but when you press the fourth one, the car start to rumble. You stay sitting, holding onto the seat as it shakes, until it suddenly stops. The sounds of moans fill the air, alerting you of a new presence. You run out of the car, looking to where the sound came from. You see a man on the old boxes.

“Who are you?” You ask.

“I’m Scott, who are you”, Scott says, looking at you confused.

“Nows not the time, get in the van. we gotta go”, you tell him, pulling him up and into the passengers seat of the van.

“Hey what’s going on back their!” The security guard at the front yells, sticking his head out.

“NOTHING SIR, CAR WOULDN’T START!” You yell, opening the warehouse door. You get into the drivers seat of the van, driving out of there as fast as possible.

“Who the hell are you,” Scott says, looking at you with a bewildered look.

“I’m Y/N, where did you come from?” You ask Scott now, looking weirdly at him.

“I was in the Quantum Realm, Hope and Hank were supposed to bring me out awhile ago but never did what happened to them”, he ask, looking out at the road.

“What year is it?!” You ask him, eyes wide and voice alert.

“2019. Why?”

Right then you pull over, grabbing your phone and putting in memorial site in maps.

“What are you doing?”

“Give me a sec”, you say driving the car till you arrive at your location.

“Follow me,” you tell him, grabbing his hand and leading him to the concrete slabs that are sticking out of the ground.

“What are these”, he ask, looking around at the names.

“The names of all of those we have lost,” he looks at me with a wild look, reading the names.

“A lot has changed since you have been in the realm,” you lead him over to a bench to sit down on, and begin to tell him of what has happened.

“-these past five years I’ve been trying to figure out a way to bring the back, I was hoping to find something to help me with it there but-�� Right then Scott just takes off running, looking over each name on the wall. He finally come to a stop, staring at a name.

“Scott what are you-“ you start to say, looking at the name Scott is looking at, its Scott Lang. He starts running towards the car, jumping in and starting the engine. You barley are able to jump in before he takes over, car going way beyond the speed limit.

The car jerks to a stop in front of a house as he gets out of the car, knocking the door and ringing the doorbell several times. A young girl steps out of the house, embracing Scott in a hug. You think to yourself that you should give the two some space. You look around the van, searching for anything. You find a can of altoids, a bag full of tiny cars, and several papers. All of which do not help with the time travel. Then you look back at the front of the van, exasperated. When you see a a rubber band, it is bent in a weird way. A morbius tube. You get out your phone, typing many things down as fast as possible. It works, it works, IT WORKS.

Your fist hit the ceiling, as you let out howls of joy, tears streaming down your face as your smile increases.

“I’m bringing you home Peter”.

You and Scott have been driving for days, trying to get to the avengers facility. You guys finally arrive, while you look for the front door. You guys find it near the garage.

“Hey! Heyyyyy! Could you let us in!!!” You yell at it, waving your hands up and down.

“Y/N, don’t worry I got this,” Scott tells you, pulling you away from the door.

“Heyyyy! Captain America! Do you remember me! I was in the airport in Berlin. I was the one that was really small then got really big.” He yells at the camera. A few seconds later the door opens, and inside stands Captain America and Black Widow.

“H-how is this possible”, Black Widow says, looking at Scott.

“And who is she,” Captain America finishes.

After introducing yourself, you, Captain America, Black Widow, and Scott head upstairs to talk. Once up their, you and Scott pase around the room.

“Ok, so what have you guys found.” Captain America ask.

“Well technically I found it”, I say, lifting up my arm.

“Ok so just-just tell us everything.”

“Well, my friend, Peter, he dusted away like everyone else.” You begin.

“Ya, and Hank and Hope did too but that was while I was in the Quantum Realm.”

“What the Quantum Realm”, Steve asks, not seeming to follow the story at all even though it has barley even begun.

“We’ll get to that,” You say as Scott points at me agreeing.

“So Y/N was in the ‘Quantum Realm’ with Scott”, Steve asks, pointing from you to Scott.

“No, I was in New York.”

“And I was in the San Francisco of the Quantum Realm.”

“I’m so confused,” Steve says, dropping onto the chair behind him.

“What matters is I found out how to do time travel and saved this guys ass while doing that”. Scott gives me an almost offended look, hand going over his heart.

“So what are you saying”, Black Widow ask.

“I’m saying we can bring them all back.”

[preppinglite]

Prepping for: Wildfires

For the second installment of my “Prepping for” series, I figured wildfires would be a timely topic. Many people don’t think about preparing for natural disasters until they are imminent, and some come with very little warning. Wildfires are often unpredictable, with small shifts in the wind putting areas in danger that thought they were safe. 

Some people face wildfire risk every year, and for others it’s almost never. It’s up to you to determine what risks you face given your location, lifestyle, and needs.

Where do Wildfires Happen?

Wildfires happen on every continent except Antarctica. However, some areas are more prone than others. In the United States, the top 5 states in terms of acreage burned by wildfires since 2002 are:

1. California

2. Georgia

3. Texas

4. North Carolina

5. Florida

We often hear about California because of how often their wildfires endanger developed areas. However, whether you live in California or Hawaii (the bottom of the list), you should be aware of the fire risk in your immediate area. Watch weather reports, look up wildfire statistics for your region, and know when wildfire season is for you.

Who Should Prepare for Wildfires?

Everyone should have a general-purpose readiness plan that allows them to evacuate quickly in various circumstances. However, people who live in fire prone areas can do a little more to be ready. You should especially prep if you live in a rural area or at the edge of your metropolitan area. 

How Can I Prep for Wildfires?

First and foremost, build your bugout bag. When wildfires happen, your priority is to evacuate before the fire reaches your house. Having a bugout bag allows you to get out quickly when the evacuation order is made, which helps in beating the rush. Non-preppers will still be packing up and deciding which mementos they can’t leave behind while you hit the highway. 

In addition to your basic bugout bag, you’ll want:

- Extra Water (3 gallons per adult/teen, 1.5 gallons per smaller child) - you should keep this much stored in your home anyway for general preparedness. The standard advice is 1/2 gallon per day per person, but the real number is body weight / 2 = number of ounces per day. With that formula 1/2 gallon would work for a 128-lb person. Which I, for one, am not. Also, the extra water allows you to use water sparingly for washing and cooking.

- Respirator Mask - In some wildfire situations, the smoke reaches your home long before the fire. When you’re evacuating or even deciding whether to evacuate, avoiding smoke inhalation can help protect your lungs. I like these masks from Amazon which are relatively cheap and disposable while still meeting the N95 certification. For smoke, pollution, and dust, you’ll want a mask rated N95 or P100 from the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health (NIOSH). You can also find masks sized for kids that come in different colors and cute designs. If you’re evacuating with small children, it’s important to keep them calm and in good spirits, and it’s especially important to make sure they keep their mask on. 

- Key Documents - IDs, passports, car and house titles, loan and mortgage documents, birth certificates, marriage certificates, social security cards, insurance records (especially your home or renter’s insurance!), medical records (especially prescription documentation) and so on. Keep all of these in a folder or box in an accessible place. You can also consider a fireproof safe, but in the event of an evacuation you’ll want to be able to grab them quickly and take them with you. Consider a bag like this which is fireproof but also easy to grab and go during an evacuation. You can even store a laptop in it if you have key documents stored digitally.

- Inventory and Property Photos - Take an inventory of your valuables that will be left behind in an evacuation and take photos of your property if you own your home. Keep these with your key documents so that you can file insurance claims.

- Insurance That Covers Wildfires - Check your homeowners’ or renters’ insurance to make sure that wildfire damage is covered. If it’s not in there, you may need to change your coverage. Call your agent or shop around for a plan that’s as prepared as you are. 

- Family Photos and Videos - If you scrapbook and make photo albums, consider making a “bugout” album. This should have some very special photos from all the important people in your life. Basically, if you had to leave the rest behind, this album would have the best of the best. If you store photos digitally, make sure you have copies on a hard drive (not just the Cloud), and you can store that hard drive in your key documents box. A USB stick is enough if you just have photos, but videos take up more space. If you have a lot of digital storage, consider a water-resistant and drop-protected drive like this one.

- Mementos and Other Sentimental Items - Don’t spend too much time packing up things you’re afraid to lose when it’s time to evacuate. Your life is more important. However, if you have heirlooms or other sentimental items, consider getting a box for those that can be grabbed quickly without having to worry if everything is in there. If you don’t use the items often (such as heirloom jewelry that you only wear on special occasions), consider a safety deposit box at your bank. If you have kids, identify one special item (blanket, stuffed animal, etc) that they can’t sleep without. Make a list of these items that you can check off during an evacuation. Planning ahead can allow you to take some special items with you without those items slowing you down. 

- Clothes - Bring two sets of clothes for each person in addition to what you’re already wearing. You can set aside some clothes in a duffel bag (just check every so often to make sure they fit!) and keep the bag near your bugout bag or in your car (which can even be nice for those times when you’re out an about and need a change of clothes - just make sure you wash and replace if you do that). 

When Do I Evacuate?

If local authorities or your local news station are telling you to evacuate, do it. Make sure you have a battery-powered or hand-crank radio in case fire damages power lines and cuts off your TV. This radio is hand-crank powered and includes a flashlight and a battery bank for your phone. However, if you do lose power because of the wildfire, that alone might be your cue to leave. 

You may also decide to leave earlier if the fires seem to be moving toward your area, if the air is thick and smoky, or if this wildfire season seems worse than last year’s. If you decide to leave before an evacuation is ordered, you’ll skip some of the rush, but you might spend more time away from home. If you’re staying in a hotel, this can add up price-wise, and if you’re staying with family or friends you might risk overstaying your welcome before the danger is over. Consider carefully where you’ll go, and make sure that you know how to get there. Set aside funds for your gas, food, and lodging (this can be part of your existing emergency fund). 

What if I’m Trapped?

Part of having a bugout bag means being able to leave on foot if roads are blocked. Ideally, you should wait for rescuers, but a fast-moving fire that firefighters are struggling to contain could mean you’re on your own. If you can, seal up your home using duct tape and plastic sheeting to keep smoke and ash out. Fires move fast, and trying to outrun a fire on foot can be a losing battle. 

If you are evacuating before the fire gets too close, but you are unable to take your car (it breaks down, you’re out of gas, or roads are blocked), you may need to go on foot. Head toward your bugout location away from the fire. Leave everything except your bugout bag and your masks. Put as many roads, rivers, and lakes between you and the fire as possible, as these help slow down and stop fires. 

What Happens When I Go Home?

As soon as authorities declare your area safe and you head home, take pictures of any damage to your property. Make insurance claims quickly so you can begin any necessary repairs. 

Once your claims have been submitted, start the cleanup process. There are various services that can come in and handle most of the cleaning and repairs for you. If your home has been totally destroyed, check with your insurance agency and a real estate agent to figure out your options and resources. 

Important Considerations for Emergency Shelters

If you live in an area with frequent and severe wildfires, there may be shelters available once an evacuation order is given. If you choose to go to one of these shelters, know that there are some real downsides. Be sure to keep all your belongings with you at all times and bring your own food, water, and toiletries. 

If you own firearms, know that government-run shelters will not allow you to bring them in. Keep this in mind. I would caution against giving up your means of self-defense for a temporary shelter, especially as civil unrest can sometimes follow disasters if the government and community response to the disaster is insufficient (see Hurricane Katrina). 

[eldritchsurveys]

945.

When did you wake up today? >> I woke up at like 4a at first, and then finally fell back asleep sometime after 6a, and woke up for good at a little after 8a. IDK why this happens, but it’s really annoying when it does.

Are you a breakfast person? >> I don’t know what a “breakfast person” is. I do eat a meal in the morning...?

How often do you exercise? What type of exercises? >> I don’t exercise. It’s difficult for me to find something engaging and fun enough for me to stick with it. When the weather cools off a bit I will probably take up morning walks again, but right now I’ve reached my limit with summer conditions and can’t be motivated to willingly drench myself in sweat.

Any favorite TV shows? >> Plenty. Here are three: Person of Interest, The Dragon Prince, Hannibal.

Do you pay attention to the news? >> I read news articles sometimes, when the subject matter is of interest to me or I want to get the full story behind something. Also, I get daily emails from The Flip Side, so that’s a bit of news every morning.

Do you ever donate a dollar to fast food charities? >> Not usually. I also am rarely at fast-food restaurants, so.

What type of books do you like to read? >> I like a wide variety of books -- genre matters less to me than whether the content is written in an engaging manner and whether I care about either the characters or the subject matter presented.

Have you ever enjoyed a reading assignment for school? >> ---

Did you get to decorate your own bedroom? What's it like? >> As a child? No. Now? Yes, because I’m an adult and I pay rent here so I can do whatever I want with my own room. It’s not really decorated in a specific manner, though, like it doesn’t have a ‘theme’.

What size bed do you sleep on? >> Twin, because that’s what fits in my room. Fortunately, I am a relatively small person.

Do you wake up easily to alarms? >> I would if I used them.

Do you stay up unnaturally late at night or do you get to bed early? >> I don’t think I go to bed particularly early or late. Ten PM seems a pretty neutral bedtime.

What are you usually doing if you're up late at night? >> If I’m up late at night, it’s most likely because I couldn’t get to sleep no matter what. It’s definitely not on purpose.

Do you keep anything on like a fan or the TV while you sleep? >> I have the fan on in summer because otherwise the heat would kill me. But I don’t like the noise, I prefer silence when I’m in bed.

Do you procrastinate with deadlines? >> I don’t usually have deadlines.

Do you put a lot of effort into school? >> ---

What food could you absolutely live off of? >> I don’t think I could live off of any food (barring survival situations, of course). I require an array of nutrients just as much as anyone else.

What do you get when you go to the movies? >> An alcoholic beverage, sometimes. Otherwise I don’t usually buy concessions, they’re too expensive. I’ve definitely sneaked many a snack or beverage into a theater and I’ll do it again.

Where do you like to sit at the movie theater? >> Back center.

If you're just lounging around the house, what are you wearing? >> PJ pants or shorts and an undershirt or t-shirt.

Do you like wearing heels? >> An inch or two is fine. I’d prefer not to wear anything higher than that.

Would you prefer a night in or a night out? >> A night in usually suits me, but depending on the kind of night out, I wouldn’t say no to that either. Definitely been getting nostalgic for dinner-and-movie outings lately.

Do you enjoy being alone, or does it make you feel lonely? >> I do enjoy being alone. It’s nice to just veg out in the apartment doing whatever I want, and I don’t feel like I’m being scrutinised every time I move.

Obsessed with any songs at the moment? >> Not any that I can think of.

Do you enjoy showers, or do you take them cause you need to? What about baths? >> Showers are a bit triggering for me for a tangle of reasons, I don’t enjoy them at all. I never take baths, those are a hard limit for me.

Shower robe or towels? >> I just get dressed immediately after drying off and moisturising.

Do you have routines for waking up and going to bed? >> I clean my face and take my Pill before going to bed. I usually read for an hour after waking up, before getting up for bio stuff.

Do you remember your dreams often? >> Not often.

Do the dreams you remember make sense? >> I usually only remember ones that have some kind of connection to waking life. The more esoteric ones are difficult for my brain to hang onto, I think. They come through less frequently.

How is summer going so far? >> I’ve had my fill of summer and now I am looking forward to fall. That’s the thing about summer -- it’s short enough that by the time I’m tired of it, it’s almost over anyway. By the time I’m tired of winter, the worst months haven’t even hit yet.

Do you spend a lot of time tanning? >> I don’t spend any time tanning.

What would you say occupies your time most? >> The Internet, I guess.

Do you keep your room clean, or are you not phased by mess? >> I try to keep my room clean, although the size and how everything is set up makes it look a little more cluttered than it actually is, which drives me batty.

Do you get hassled to keep a clean room? >> Who would hassle me...? I’m grown, I’m responsible for my own damn room for better or worse.

Do you do your own laundry? >> Sparrow does the laundry.

Do you think graffiti is art or vandalism? >> It’s both. Art from the perspective of me, a passerby who likes pretty colours and funky lettering. Vandalism from the perspective of a building owner or law enforcement official.

How do you like your marshmallows roasted? >> Until they’re crispy? Is there any other way, lol...

How do you get rid of hiccups? >> I don’t do anything, mine go away pretty quickly.

How about brain freezes? >> I don’t do anything for that, either, it’s over in a few seconds.

Do you have any healthy addictions? >> That’s... that’s an oxymoron??? What do you think “addiction” means?

Are you old enough to vote yet? >> Yes.

Is voting important to you, or are you uninterested by politics? >> I am uninterested in politics and yet I still participate in the voting system. I didn’t used to, but I’ve come to understand the importance of participating and so I do my best.

Are you alright at world geography? >> I’m pretty abysmal at world geography. I know where some countries and geographical features are, and I can figure out the general area of where other countries or geographical features would be, sometimes... but mostly I just never put much mental energy into that sort of thing and I’m often wrong.

How about navigating your city? >> I can navigate this city pretty well. I’m good with cities.

What part of history interests you most? >> What part of history doesn’t interest me, at least marginally?

Do you keep your cell phone on you all the time? >> Not necessarily on me, but it’s usually somewhere nearby. ... *looks around* ...Well, right now, it’s all the way across the room, but hey.

Do you answer it when it rings or do you screen your own calls? >> I don’t answer my phone at all. Every call I get is spam or a misdial / someone thinking this number belongs to someone else entirely.

Are you big on the texting? >> I don’t text much because there’s no one to text except Sparrow, who I see every day in person anyway.

Do you like chewing gum or eating mints? >> I like the cognitive effects of gum-chewing. But Orbit changed the formula of my favourite gum so I had to give it up.

Do you use dental floss much? >> I don’t floss.

If you're biking do you wear a helmet? >> I hate the way helmets feel on my head but I understand their importance so I just avoid biking at all, basically.

What is your favorite outdoor activity? >> I’m not sure. Hiking, maybe? I do miss hiking.

Do/did you enjoy living with your parents? >> I did not enjoy it.

Do you have any favorite clothes? >> If I still have an article of clothing, one can assume it’s a favourite of mine. Otherwise I’d just... get rid of it. I don’t like keeping things I don’t enjoy.

How about a favorite pair of shoes? >> I only have two pairs of shoes and I like them both for different reasons / purposes.

How many different types of ID do you have? >> Well, I have a state ID, and a Social Security card somewhere (... I should really figure out where that is, I always seem to misplace those), and a birth certificate. I think those are the major forms in this country (I don’t have a passport, which would be another major form).

Do you always remember your license when you're driving? >> ---

Do you pay much attention to speed limits while driving? >> ---

What do you listen to when you're in the car? >> Sparrow’s iPod, usually. But she got a new dongle for the car and it’s Bluetooth, so now I can play my Spotify sometimes too. I have a playlist specifically for the car that’s my Liked Songs with all the metal and hard rock removed (which is, like, three-quarters of my likes, lmao).

What do you spend most of your money on? >> Rent.

Do you take advice when it's given to you? >> I don’t usually receive advice.

Are you optimistic or pessimistic under the shield of "realistic"? >> I feel like that’s not the whole picture. Some people are plainly pessimistic, some people are pessimistic and call themselves “realistic”, and some people are realistic. Whatever. I think my viewpoint depends on what kind of day I’m having, not some innate preference.

Do you avoid arguments or do you go out of your way to express your views? >> I avoid arguments but not to the point where I never express myself. Sometimes my trauma-inspired aversion to perceived conflict can get in my way, but I try not to let it win every time.

Are you looking forward to the future? >> I don’t usually think about the future. I’m busy enough with the present.

[fresh-outta-jams]

Plastic Heart - Part 15

Namjoon x Reader Author: Mo Summary: When you get the highly-anticipated BTS dolls for Christmas, your life takes a turn in a way you never could have expected. Note: Oof we’re getting into the Joon/yn relationship zone omg. I love them so muchhhhhh. Also, baby Koya is my son and i’m love him. Warnings: None? Word Count: 1.4k

Prologue, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

“So explain to me what all of this means again.” Namjoon was standing behind you while you scrolled through Twitter. There were so many pictures of the two of you circulating that it wasn’t even funny. “We’re trending?”

“Someone took pictures of us at the mall yesterday and everyone thinks you’re RM.” You told him, biting your lip. “To be fair, you look just like him. But he literally did a VLive last night while we were out.”

“Right, so obviously I’m not him.”

“Obviously. But ARMYs love to be conspiracy theorists.” Yoongi pointed out. He wasn’t wrong. “Anything new?”

“Let me refresh.” You did, scanning the new Tweets, including a new one from BTS’ official account.

They had Tweeted one of the pictures from the night before, and there was a caption: This...isn’t me #RM.

“Okay, so he did say something about it. So hopefully, that’ll take care of things.” You sighed in relief and decided to leave your phone for a little while so you could make breakfast. “Come on, Joon, we’re teaching you how to make pancakes.”

He followed you into the kitchen, the two of you leaving Koya with the others so he could finally get to know his uncles. You got out the pancake mix and added water, mixing it into batter. A minute or two later, you had the first pancake sizzling in the pan.

Namjoon watched for a few moments until he a) realized how much he wanted to touch you and b) remembered that now he could. If your makeout session the night before had been any indication, you felt the same way about him. So, Namjoon took a few steps forward and wrapped his arms around your hips. He cozied up to your back, pressing a few tender kisses to your neck. You leaned into his warmth, trying your best to focus on the pancake you were flipping, but you were a little distracted.

“Are you paying attention?” You giggled, wiggling in Namjoon’s grasp.

“Of course. You just pour the stuff and then flip it. Easy peasy.” He murmured, peppering kisses up your neck to your cheek.

“What happened to my nervous, flustered Namjoon, huh? Weren’t you shy like yesterday?” You teased, smirking.

“Yeah, and then we made out for like an hour last night, so…” He kissed your cheek again. “I think your shy little Namjoon got a whole lot more confident.”

“Well, I hope my confident Namjoon still likes pancakes.”

“Your Namjoon likes whatever you want to cook for him. He’s just very grateful for his (Y/N). He...doesn’t know what he’d do without her.” His voice got all quiet. So you stood there for a while longer in the comfort of his arms, flipping pancakes until you had a nice little stack of them. You sat down at the table with Namjoon, putting a few pancakes on your plate and drowning them in syrup.

“So…?”

“Do I even need to tell you that these are absolutely amazing, ohhh…” He leaned back in his chair, squeezing his eyes shut. “Food is so underrated. God, I’m gonna put on a million pounds, aren’t I? If all food tastes this good…”

“You’ll get used to it eventually.” You smiled, watching him. “After a while, pancakes won’t seem so special.”

“Pancakes will always be special if you’re the one that made them.”

“Wow, you’ve been crushing hard, huh?” Reaching up, you pinched his dimpled cheek.

“Well, how could I not? You’re YOU.”

Your cheeks flushed red and you giggled. He leaned closer and kissed the corner of your lips before kissing you full on. His lips were sweet and sticky, as plush as you’d always dreamed they’d be. You hadn’t ever had something this real, and yet, two days ago, he’d been made of plastic. There was some irony there, you were sure.

“Oh, so you two are like TOGETHER together now.” Yoongi noted, his voice alone splitting the two of you apart. You grinned at the sight of Namjoon’s reddened cheeks, his sheepish smile as he pulled away from you. Maybe your shy, nervous Namjoon was still in there somewhere… “Sorry I ever doubted you, Namjoon.”

“Yeah, we’re…” You didn’t know if you were DATING, per say, but you were kissing each other now, so you’d have to discuss the whole relationship thing whenever you caught some alone time later. “Yeah.”

“Happy for you. So uh, you might want to check your Twitter. I brought your phone.” Yoongi walked over, dragging it behind him until he handed it to you. “Also, your son wants to be cuddled and none of us are big enough to hold him.”

“I’ll go get Koya.” Namjoon kissed your forehead and walked back out to the living room.

You picked up your phone, curious, and unlocked it, opening Twitter. You had a DM. From BTS. Holy shit. With a shaking hand, you opened it up.

@BTS_twt: Hey, so some people on Twitter said you might be the girl in the photos.

@BTS_twt: This is RM by the way.

You stared at the words for a few seconds before they started to make any sense. Holy shit. You were messaging RM. Holy fuck.

@your_Twitter: Yeah, I am. I’m sorry about all the trouble it’s caused you, but I’m not the one who took the pictures. We were at the mall, and I guess people just followed us with their phones.

Namjoon walked back into the kitchen, Koya cradled against his chest. He looked at you with concern. “Everything okay?”

“Kind of. Not exactly. Look.” You showed him. His eyes widened.

“Holy shit, you’re talking to RM. Oh my God what are you going to tell him?”

“I have no idea. How do we explain this to him?”

@BTS_twt: So the guy that looks like me...is he your boyfriend?

“What did he say?” Namjoon asked as soon as your phone pinged.

“He asked if you’re my boyfriend.”

“W-what are you gonna tell him?” There was your nervous Namjoon. The b-word was still new territory for you two. You hadn’t had that conversation yet, and this wasn’t the way you imagined you’d have it.

“Well, it would be weird if I told him no, right?” You asked.

Namjoon bit his plush lip and nodded. “Well, y-yeah, that would be weird…” He inhaled a shaky little breath, his heart working overtime as he waded through the awkward silence that had grown between you. “S-so AM I?”

“Are you what?”

“Am I your boyfriend?” He asked, Koya curling further into his warm chest. Then, softer, he asked, “A-are we dating? Are you my girlfriend?”

“Well, I mean...we kiss each other. And we both like each other. So...Do you want to be?”

Instead of answering, Namjoon surged forward, capturing your lips with his. He didn’t know how two things could fit so perfectly together, but he couldn’t think of a single place his lips belonged aside from the slot of your own. A few hungry kisses later, your knees trembling, you sent RM a message back.

@your_Twitter: Yeah, he’s my boyfriend. Not to freak you out, but his name is Namjoon too.

@BTS_twt: Woah, really?! That’s so weird! I don’t know what to tell the press. What do you want me to tell them?

@your_Twitter: Wow, I have no idea. It obviously couldn’t be you, though, because you’re in Korea and we’re in the States.

@BTS_twt: Yeah, obviously...I’ll figure out something. Thanks for clearing it up. Tell your Namjoon I said hi, alright?

“RM says hi.” You looked up at him, showing him the message. Namjoon felt a mixture of feelings stirring around in his chest. His namesake knew he existed. Weird. That wasn’t something he’d ever thought he’d have to think about.

“Weird.” He whispered.

You nodded. “Very.” You reached up and threaded your fingers through his thick hair, pulling him down for a kiss that he very eagerly reciprocated. “It sounds like he’s going to take care of it, though. Glad we have him as a resource.”

“Yeah, me too.” Namjoon scratched the back of his neck. “What do you want to do for the rest of the day?”

“Well, now that we know this is permanent...we need to get some papers forged for you. A birth certificate, an ID, some other stuff. I...know a person who can do that for us.”

“Oh, really? That’d be great.”

“The problem is, it’s Luna. So, we’d need to tell her...where you came from…”

“And you think she’d handle it alright?” Yoongi asked.

“Luna? Yeah. Melody and Ella, probably not so much, but Luna...if we broke it to her gently...yeah, probably.” You pulled up her number and sent her a text. You weren’t quite sure how you’d explain all of this to her, but you’d have to figure it out.

Tagged: @iie-wakarimasen, @lilgaga98, @catbugsugarpea, @demonic-meatball, @backtonormalthings, @kbowen9, @honig-bienchen, @coolcat494, @ffantasylandd, @feed-my-geek-soul, @ayoo-bangtan, @xxqueenwxtchxx, @cap-lu20, @finninpoposu, @coldbookworm, @sitkafay, @daniawinchesters21, @okaysoplshelpme, @zamirayinyue13, @douseeme16

[lilacmoon83]

Sweeter Than Fiction

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 3: One Heart

Mary was tired, cold, and hungry, as she trekked deep into the forests of Maine. She couldn't stop though. She knew Cora's hired hands were on her trail and getting caught was a death sentence. And when she wasn't thinking about being tired, cold, and hungry, or being captured by some brute, she thought of David. Unfortunately, even that was painful right now. She missed him so much it hurt.

She leaned against a tree to rest, but gasped seconds later, as an ax landed next to her head. She jumped away and saw a man there. She scrambled to get away, but he grabbed her arm. She screamed and he put his hand over her mouth, before dragging her back toward the tree.

"Quiet...I'm not going to hurt you," he said with a thick accent.

"You really expect me to believe that? Cora hired you, didn't she?" Mary spat.

"She did...my name is Graham," he replied. She swallowed thickly, as he pulled his ax free from the tree.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked.

"Nothing...I'm here to warn you. She's hired many more mercenaries to track them down and they won't be like me. They are animals. Cora doesn't just want you dead. She wants you brought back alive and she very much wants you broken. If one of those men gets a hold of you, they will do exactly that," he warned, giving her a meaningful look.

"If she hired you, then why aren't you going to do the same?" Mary challenged.

"I'm very good at tracking, but I'm not an animal like them. I know you didn't do what you're being accused of," he explained, as he handed her a pack of supplies.

"Even if you don't believe I killed my father, why would you help me?" Mary questioned skeptically. Graham smiled.

"Because your step-sister asked me to and she's my friend. I have a cabin north of here. It's still a bit of a trek, but it's very secluded. The rough terrain might deter anyone from looking out that far," Graham explained.

Part of her screamed not to trust anyone; that this was probably some horrible setup and she really had no way of knowing if Regina had really asked this of him. But his eyes were kind and he spoke with kindness. And staying out here in the woods definitely wasn't an option.

"Thank you," Mary said.

"You can thank me and Regina by getting away. Go where she'll never find you," he urged. Mary nodded and took the pack, before heading off north through the hilly terrain.

~*~

It was sometime later when she heard a twig snap behind her and knew she was being followed. Her heart pounded, as she dashed behind a tree and picked up a rock. As the man passed, she jumped out in surprise and hit him in the face. He went down and a dog emerged from the brush nearby, whimpering and she dropped the rock in alarm.

"Wilby...oh my God, David!" she exclaimed, as she knelt beside him and helped him sit up against the tree.

"Oh God…" she fretted, as she saw his chin was bleeding, but he laughed, as she dug through her pack to find a cloth to dab the blood.

"Maybe you don't need me to protect you, after all," he joked.

"I thought you were one of the men after me! What are you doing out here?" she asked.

"Isn't it obvious? I love you," he replied.

"And I love you...that's why I had to leave! I needed to know that you were safe! I was trying to protect you!" she cried.

"Mary...I don't want to be safe or protected, not if it means not being with you," he said passionately. She softened and collapsed against him in relief, as he took her in his arms.

"I couldn't stand it if something happened to you, because of me," she sniffed.

"Shhh...nothing's going to happen to me. Besides, we'll have a much better chance together than apart," he reasoned. She shook her head.

"David...I might be on the run for the rest of my life. I can't do that to you! You deserve better," she lamented. He shook his head.

"I want you...I need you. I don't give a damn if I have to run for the rest of my life, as long as you're by my side. A life without you is no life I want," he said fiercely. She melted against him, but didn't allow herself to get lost in him, not yet.

"We have to go…" she urged.

"Can I ask exactly where you're planning to go?" he asked.

"For now, a cabin north of here. A friend told me to go there. It's secluded and I think we'll be safe there, at least for a couple days until we figure out where to go next," Mary replied. He smirked.

"We?" he asked. She smirked back and kissed him passionately.

"We," she confirmed, as she bit her bottom lip. The way he was looking at her, with so much love, was doing nothing for her concentration. He laced his fingers with hers and they started off, with Wilby trotting along beside them.

~*~

They reached the cabin by nightfall and were pleasantly surprised to find a supply of cut firewood, allowing them to quickly make a fire inside the cabin. It had the modern amenity of indoor plumbing, but no heat or appliances. The fire would serve them well for keeping them warm and allowing them to cook.

David fed Wilby from the supply of dog food he had brought in his supplies and then cooked some meat his mother had sent for them.

After their meal, they found sleeping bags in the closet and went about getting ready to sleep. Wilby had already curled up and gone to sleep, but would hear anything if someone approached the cabin.

Once they had made a suitable bed with the sleeping bags and blankets, their attention turned to each other. They hadn't done more than making out in their time together so far, but Mary knew he was the one. And she knew he obviously felt the same about her. He had said as much and his actions spoke louder than anything. Being in his arms was heaven and she wanted more. So, as their kisses turned feverish, she started unbuttoning his shirt. David broke the kiss and looked into her emerald pools, seeing love and desire shining in them.

"Mary...are you sure?" he asked in a husky tone. She smiled.

"Oh, I've never been more sure about anything," she replied, as she lifted her arms for him. He swallowed thickly and his heart pounded, as he pulled her top over her head and discarded it. Their lips crashed together again and he lowered her to the soft fabric beneath them. The fire burned as brightly as their love and passion for each other, as they gave themselves to each other.

~*~

Sometime later

They lay curled together beneath the blankets, as they basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Their limbs were entangled and their bare bodies pressed tightly together, as he placed loving kisses on her neck and shoulder, while lacing his fingers with hers.

"I love you…" she whispered.

"I love you too...I will eternally," he said, as he momentarily disentangled from her, long enough to grab his shirt and pull something out of the pocket.

"What are you doing?" she asked, as she sat up, covering her unclothed body with the blanket and admiring his muscled chest and torso. She gasped, as he showed her a ring, a silver band with a peridot gemstone.

"David…" she uttered.

"It was my mother's...and she insisted I take it before I left. She said that true love follows this ring," he said.

"And I know that's what we have...will you marry me?" he asked. Happy tears filled her eyes and she held her hand out.

"What do you think?" she teased, as he slipped it on her finger and she gazed at it in awe and then at him with love, before pulling him close. Their lips met and their passion consumed them once again and well into the night.

~*~

The next morning, after cleaning up and making breakfast, they started to pack up, knowing they would have to move on soon. But Mary was worried.

"David...even if we do go to Canada, they'll still be looking for me," she lamented.

"Which is why we need to get new identities," he said.

"Which costs a lot of money...money we don't have," she replied.

"Then we'll get it. We'll get jobs," he said.

"The minute I apply for a job, they'll run my name and the warrant for my arrest will come up," she reminded him.

"Then I'll get a job...I'll get two jobs and get the money we need," he insisted. She sighed and he pulled her into his arms.

"We'll figure this out...I promise," he soothed, as they suddenly heard Wilby start growling. David put a finger to his lips to motion her to remain quiet, as he grabbed the fireplace poker. He prepared to strike when the door swung open, but hesitated when he saw it was an older man with a cane. The man put his hand up in surrender.

"Easy dearie...I mean you no harm," he said in an accented voice.

"Mr. Gold?" Mary asked.

"You know him?" David asked.

"He owns the pawnshop back home," she replied.

"It's good to see you are well and unharmed, Miss Blanchard," he said.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I've come to make a deal," he replied.

"What kind of deal?" David asked.

"One that I think you'll want to take," Gold stated, as he handed a folder to her. She opened and found new driver's licenses', birth certificates, a marriage license, and all the documentation they would both need to start new lives.

"I don't understand...why would you do all this for me...for us?" she asked.

"You have quite a few people back home that support you...and hate Cora. The truth about who killed your father will eventually come out and when it does, you will return and take back what is rightfully yours. Until then, you and your future husband need to survive," Gold stated.

"I still don't understand...why would you do all this for us?" David asked.

"Because when you return and the fair Miss Blanchard takes back what is rightfully hers, you'll help me with something, a favor of sorts. Let's just say...I'm invested in your future," Gold replied.

"And you're so sure that her case against me will fall apart?" Mary asked skeptically. He smirked knowingly.

"Oh most certain, indeed. I wouldn't dawdle if I were you. When you get to Toronto, you'll find I've already lined up jobs for you," he said, as he turned to leave.

"Oh...and congratulations on your engagement," he said, as he left. David looked at their new identities.

"David and Mary Swan," he stated.

"I guess so...I just wonder what he'll want in return someday," she said, a note of worry in her voice.

"We'll figure that out when the time comes. For now...we have a new life to start," he said, as he slipped his arm around her waist. Mary nodded and closed the folder. As she did, something fell out and fell to the floor. She bent down and picked up what looked like a car key. They looked at each other and then hurried outside, finding an old, yellow Volkswagen bug waiting for them.

"Well, this will beat the hell out of walking to Canada," he mentioned. She smiled and they joined hands.

"Come on Wilby...let's go boy," David called, as he loaded their things in the car and they got in, with their dog in the backseat. They were off to start their new life together, but someday they would return to set things right.

[anonthenullifier]

Celestial Bodies

Chapter 25 of Celestial Bodies

Chapter summary: Being an Avenger means putting aside personal matters for the greater good, except Wanda and Vision never imagined this would mean missing their wedding. (8.2k words).

Happy Scarlet Vision Appreciation Day everyone! I hope you enjoy this unapologetic fluff fest.

AN: If you have not read any of my Celestial Bodies series, that’s fine, the only chapter you might want to skim before reading this is Chapter 1 because the theme of that chapter is a motif in this chapter. 

Wanda’s lungs heave in as she crests what seemed an unassuming hill, but the joy of increased gravity means it felt more like a mountain. In all her life, she’d never really thought what it would be like to walk an alien world, never imagined it would feel like rainy days when the mud sucks her boots down and every stride becomes a small battle with nature. Other than her thighs aching from a measly hill, the world around her seems oddly non-alien, mostly. The setting sun creates streaks of amaranth and clementine, silver specks flicker behind wispy clouds, and even the ground is wrapped snugly in a blanket of small, mustard colored flowers like the rocky slopes outside of Novi Grad. Except Sokovia never had four moons and never shined like stained glass under the sun. Minus those small details, she can almost imagine they are back on Earth.

One bit of normalcy that contributes to this feeling is the sight before her, Vision staring silently across the still waters of a little pond, mind, no doubt, ticking through every negative event from the day. Not that she blames him, her own mood soured about ten minutes after waking up to find Tony waiting at the breakfast table next to Vision, a manic grin on the billionaire’s face and a handful of shredded paper that he tossed into the air with a Congratulations! once she sat down. Thankfully Tony had already established his…eccentricity with the Guardians who didn’t seem fazed by the action (well other than Mantis excitedly clapping at the confetti display), even if her own team all became intensely interested in the cardboard-esque food on their plates. 

Wanda sucks in a few more breaths before descending, calves screaming with each step while her mind unhelpfully reminds her that this isn’t the walk she was supposed to be making towards Vision today. About halfway down the hill, he gets on his knees, shoulders slouching forward as he stares deeper into the water. Wanda frowns, feet moving a bit faster to close the distance, understanding he is now transitioning into level 3 brooding. “Vizh…” 

She says his name approximately five steps before she reaches him and yet it takes another agonizing three seconds after she’s at his side before he acknowledges her. “Hello.” Despite greeting her, his attention is focused on the steady scooping and pouring of water over his arm, each splash followed by a wince. 

Wanda kneels next to him, hand dipping under his cape and rubbing up along his spine. “Can I see it?” Wordlessly he shows her his right arm, four punctured lines running down it with a sickly green slime clinging to the raised edges of the injury. “That’s gross.” 

“Yes, it is,” disgust hangs heavy in the words, which is surprising given not much bothers him (at least physical things like monsters or biological organisms, the bigotry and hatred of people disgusts him daily). “I never wish to do that again.” 

“I thought Nebula was going to do it, since her arm’s not, well...” Wanda doesn’t know how to finish the statement so she leaves it hanging, finding the woman in question a terrifying and unsettling mystery even if Vision assures her that the she’s not an immediate danger.   

Thankfully he effortlessly picks up her thought. “Last night Rocket tested our durability and tactile sensitivity in a carefully constructed simulation.” The way he phrases it makes it sound like one of Stark’s grand technological courses back at the compound, not like the three-foot-high pile of wires, pillows, a couple of blankets, half of the eating utensils, and a soup bowl corroding by the second, that was actually used. “Nebula and myself had similar bodily responses to the acid mixture.” Wanda stares at his arm trying to figure out if they also anticipated the rows of teeth inside the creature strong enough to cut vibranium or if that was an unpleasant surprise for Vision. Based on available evidence, she’s going with the latter. “But when it came to our tactile abilities, I was much better at detecting subtle changes in texture which meant I would be more capable of locating the switch.” 

This is partially true and likely what he wants to use to convince himself that he was the right choice, except she was sitting nearby when she heard them going over the rules of asteroid, paper, blaster. “And I’m sure it had nothing to do with losing their game.” 

Vision’s lips curve slightly as he washes his arm again, “They cheated.” 

“Still counts as losing.” 

The teasing is supposed to cut the tension between them, not increase it with his leaden, “I suppose.” 

Wanda sits back on her heels and watches him continue to rinse his wound, each hypnotic splash chipping away at the remnants of their partially failed mission.  It’s been a long, strenuous week, and today was a mixed bag of success, on the one hand they finally disabled the entrance (or what Rocket lovingly referred to as a semi-sentient trapdoor of doom) to where the artifact is kept, a task they’d failed at for days and ended up having to use their last-ditch strategy of an unlucky person (i.e. Vision) shoving his hand into the creature in search of the switch for the door. On the other hand, inside the door they came across yet another deadly puzzle to solve and ominous warnings of an ember eyed demon, which was nowhere in their intel. This new development required them to call off the rest of the plan and regroup tonight for further strategizing.    

“Do you, um…” Vision tenses at the questioning slant of her words and it compounds what’s been bothering her this whole damn mission, because since unexpectedly blasting off into space, the air between them has been heavy, an unacknowledged perturbation forming that they silently deemed a concern best left to discuss after the mission. Which isn’t the healthiest tactic, but Vision tends to believe in compartmentalizing personal issues away from Avenger directives for the sake of focus. They’ve done pretty well, pretending like nothing's wrong, but after this morning with Tony and yet another day tacked on to their trip, and especially due to the way every conversation has started to feel like walking over eggshells that surround a slumbering interdimensional demon, Wanda has had enough. “Can we please just talk about—” 

“I have already apologized to Mr. Stark for my loss of temper.” 

“I know.” When Vision says a loss of temper, what might come to mind for people unacquainted with him is a blast from the Mindstone or a punch so hard it shatters a wall. What actually happened was a very terse, Tony, be quiet. No one other than herself and maybe Natasha even realized the depths of seething annoyance sewed into those three words, but it was right as he snapped, right as he took away focus from maintaining the right density, that Vision also gasped in pain at the plant-like creature biting down on his arm. None of that is actually what she wants to talk about, however. “You know that’s not what I meant.” 

Wanda leaves the rest silent, fully aware of how the weight she gave her words will settle onto his shoulders, cocooning him in a guilt that needs no prodding other than a few more seconds of empathetic quiet. “It is just,” he sits back on his heels, hands coming to rest on his knees, and stares out at the twisted trunks of the piebald trees around them, “Even though I do not regret being present to help save the universe,” something she agrees with, “I also was very much looking forward to, well,” he shrugs, trying to act as if what’s he admitting is some sort of childish wish, “our wedding.” 

Wanda scoots a few inches to help close the gap between them so she can lay a kiss to his temple. “Me too.” Finally, for the first time since leaving the compound, they’ve acknowledged the elephant stampeding around them. Today was supposed to be spent in New York City in a venue that was too big and too fancy for them, committing to spend the rest of their lives together. Instead she spent four hours holding up a scarlet shield to keep the onslaught of rabid, insanely powerful six legged monstrosities at bay while her fiancé had his arm shoved down the throat of a thing that looked like a venus fly trap had a drunken one night stand with a blobfish. “You know, I figured something weird would happen today because weird is kind of our thing, but I wasn’t expecting our day to go like this.” 

“I concur. Though I will admit,” Vision’s arm wraps around her shoulders, holding her tight to his side, “it was very charitable that the semi-sentient trapdoor of doom was thrown in for free since the colored napkins were extra.” 

A full-bodied laugh rushes out of her body, delighted at the sardonic thoughts he rarely shows to anyone but her. “I’m sure if we had wanted the fully sentient model it would have been like three hundred more.” 

“Oh, most assuredly.” Wedding planning, they discovered very early on, is a gaping jawed monster with an endless pit for a stomach.  It drove Vision crazy, nearly as much as dealing with the county clerk’s almost eight-month long refusal to recognize his birth certificate for their marriage license. Vision’s tone sashays away from sarcasm and back towards despondency. “I am certain the fee for having to reschedule will be exorbitant.” 

“Probably.” Which should make her angry right now, not so much the charge, though it is ridiculous, but she should be in a rage at how long the mission is taking and how aggravating it is that all they do is squabble over who has a slightly better idea instead of deciding on a path and fleshing out the plan. When they left, the possibility of missing their wedding wasn’t even a blip on her radar of concern. When the universe needs to be saved, you go and save it. Which doesn’t erase how very very much she wanted to get married today...but even if they were to go back in time, knowing all they know now, she still would have gotten on the Milano because she’s an Avenger and Avengers don’t put their personal lives first. Perhaps she should feel guilty about it, but she doesn’t, which kind of makes her feel guilty. “Vizh?” 

“Yes?”

“Would you have rather have dealt with the trapdoor of doom or paparazzi today?” 

The scrunch of his face betrays his indecision and it instantly feels like absolution of her own sinful thoughts. “I believe I would rather have dealt with the trapdoor,” quickly he qualifies his decision, “for the sake of the universe.” 

“The universe is pretty important.” 

“Very much.” Vision pauses, lungs half full and mouth still open, his mind abuzz against the shallow link she has with him, and whatever it is he’s considering vibrates the air around them, prickling against her skin and sending her heart into a slightly faster tempo. “You know, I have been thinking that, um, since we likely will not have the Orensanz again for some time,” the refurbished synagogue Stark found for them touts a wait list of up to 3 years and they were told, about a million times, that they only got the date they did because the sheer celebrity of their wedding would mean an even longer waitlist in the future. They were also informed this cutting in line was a one time exception. “Perhaps when we return we just do something small?” 

The suggestion latches to the corners of her mouth, his words floating up and bringing a smile to her face. “You mean like the wedding we actually wanted?” 

A playful defensiveness weaves through his response, “If today had gone differently, I would have been thrilled to vow my life to you in front of two hundred and fifty of our closest friends.” 

“You forgot about the seventy-five person wait list and the fifty press members.” 

“Yes, and the protestors.” After Tony published an announcement of their wedding, they were alerted to an online movement to picket outside the venue. “I checked the news earlier, the protest still happened.” 

Of course it did. “Any good signs?” 

His eyes grow distant, no doubt sweeping through the news for pictures, “Nothing truly imaginative, which is on par for this group,” now the disgust is back and she feels like it should be a lot more pronounced than it is, “one sign did purport that Asimov is rolling in his grave, but I believe this may be a fundamental misunderstanding of Asimov’s work.” 

Wanda decides to move back to a better topic, never knowing where Vision’s mind will descend when discussing the laws of robotics. “So, what are you thinking for this small wedding?” They’ve discussed it already, both at the onset of their engagement and throughout the planning process, always late at night once Tony had left, Vision’s voice growing more wistful the further Tony pulled them away from an intimate ceremony, claiming the first Avenger wedding had to be a big ordeal, but she never gets tired of hearing him walk her through it. 

Vision straightens his back, his hand remaining on her shoulders to hold her steady as he moves off of his knees to sit on the spongy moss, an action she mimics, enjoying the feel of his muscles on her back when he cuddles her to his side once again. “I believe our backyard would be best,” with a flick of her finger, Wanda inserts herself into his mind, grinning at the image he constructs to go along with his words,  “the chuppah can be placed on the east side of the lawn,” the four posts rise in the center of his thoughts and then their handcrafted cloth envelops the structure, “we could string lanterns around the perimeter,” twinkly ones he saw on a backyard renovation show, “we will need to wait until dusk when the stars come out, and there should be just enough space for our teammates, Helen, and the Bartons.” The white folding chairs plop into their still growing grass, and though she doesn’t count, she knows he has the right number. 

“You should probably finish putting up the fence first.” 

“Yes,” a white paneled fence with decorative lattice work on top (that matches their pergola) pops up in his mental picture, “privacy would be of utmost importance. The ceremony would be unchanged,” the only thing Tony left up to them in the planning, though that control was not ceded quietly, a threat of scarlet and Vision’s best disappointed stare the only reason Stark backed off, “and I believe the reception would just be an evening with friends. We would, for the sake of public opinion, and Mr. Stark’s pride, hold a larger reception at some point.” 

It’s what he’s always daydreamed about, what she has as well, and it’s part of why she’s not completely overwhelmed with disappointment that today went the way it did, even if she would rather be his wife right now. “That sounds perfect.” 

“You two ever coming back?” Sam’s voice in her ear fractures the contentment of the moment. “Steve wants to get strategizing.” 

Another click from the comms and Starlord’s grating voice comes through making sure that any enjoyment that remained is decimated by his puerile addition, “Yeah, tongues back in your own mouths.” 

“Shut up, Quill.” Now Rocket joins in and Wanda rolls her eyes at Vision who sends her a commiserate nod. “You didn’t even realize those two were a thing until an hour ago when we told you.” 

Defensiveness seems to be a second skin to Starlord, one he pulls particularly snug around Tony and Thor, though clearly his own teammates know how to get to him. “How am I supposed to be in the know about everyone’s dating life?” 

Nebula flatly counters back, “They make out everywhere,” which isn’t true, “you’re just oblivious, as usual.” Which probably is true, based on the week Wanda’s known the man. 

“Yes,” Mantis’ voice is always gentle and optimistic, brimming with enthusiasm that is infectious even while contributing to ruining a nice moment with Vision, “last night they were on top of the ship.” They were, but they were just trying to find some peace and quiet, something Wanda shouldn’t have to feel defensive about. 

“And at the table,” this is proudly added by Drax, “they didn’t notice me standing in the corner.” They did, which is why they moved to the roof of the ship. 

Sam hits his comm a bit early, allowing the sounds of rustling and background chatter to come through, “Welcome to living with those two.” It’s a comment that from the likes of Stark would be derisive, but from Sam is good natured albeit it still makes her a little self-conscious. 

Natasha, a consummate professional, wrestles control back of the comm system, something she and Steve have struggled to do with the increased lines in use. “Can you two please come back?” 

“We will return momentarily.” 

Nat’s “Thanks, Vision,” seems cheerier than usual, likely from the victory of stemming a conversation on the brink of being out of control.

The line finally returns to the light static of dormancy. Vision untangles from their embrace, standing up with a reluctant sigh, his arm extended and palm up, offering assistance that Wanda accepts. “I suppose we should return before we have to deal with that again.” 

They should. Even if it is the last thing she wants to do. These meetings are always long affairs due to the inevitable devolving into one-upping each other with acts of stupidity masquerading as heroics. Sometimes she’ll participate, but most of the time she just wants to shower and relax, actually decompress before the next phase of the mission. Additionally, given the complete lack of privacy and solitude in the cramped ship, as their teammates so kindly noted, she’s remiss to leave this spot and this moment, Vision the only person she ever wants to be around post-mission. Tonight even more so. “Yeah, we should.” 

Despite their words, neither moves from the peacefulness around them. 

The stars are crystalline, so much brighter than the ones they see on Earth. Wanda’s not even sure if they are the same stars or different, not really understanding where they are, but she admires them all the same, especially the way they reflect off the placid surface of the pond, in the middle of which two moons hang together, rippling when an insect lands on the water.  “Vizh.” Their hands are together, fingers laced so naturally, their muscles remembering each other perfectly so that a simple action like holding hands can happen without thought. Wanda tugs on his hand, turning his body to face her, his eyes bright and curious at what she wants. “I love you.” 

His face softens, the Mindstone glowing a touch brighter as his lips mimic the curves of the moons above. “I love you too.” 

It’s a common exchange between them, done at least five times a day, usually more, but today it holds a special weight, or at least, it was supposed to. Maybe it still can. Wanda reaches out her other hand, wiggling her fingers until, with his head cocked to the right, he takes her invitation, his body fully facing her now. “You know, I’ve spent the last three weeks practicing what I wanted to say to you today,” usually in the shower or lying in bed while Vision was off making her tea. It was nerve-wracking to write down her feelings for him, even more petrifying was the knowledge of having to say it in front of so many people. Right now, however, it’s just him. “And, um, is it okay if I tell you? Even without the wedding.” 

Vision’s lips tighten into a line as he works through her request, the right side tipping up when he nods in understanding, “I would like that.” 

“Okay.” The world hushes around them, the gentle lapping of the water at the mossy shore providing a meditative anchor to calm her nerves while her heart matches the rhythm of his irises spinning. He’s beautiful, always, but especially against the backdrop of the nebulous skies. “Okay. Vision,” if it is this hard to say it just to him, she can’t imagine how she was going to do it in front of over two hundred people, “A long time ago I was told I had a moon. A very kind, very gentle, freakishly intelligent and attractive moon,” the increasing slope of his mouth and the comforting pressure of his hands helps keep her going, “and I thought they were idiots.” Vision laughs with her, easing her nerves just a bit more. “And they were, to be fair.” 

He whispers his agreeance, making sure not to interrupt her too much. “Yes, they were.” 

Wanda spends several seconds counting the turn of his irises now that she’s reached the part she had struggled to put into words without it sounding so cheesy she was embarrassed to say it. “They thought you were a moon and I was a planet, never realizing that we were just two planets that happened to pass by each other and become joined in a mutual orbit.” A moment goes by where she seeks out some sort of response, having watched the documentary again just to make sure she didn’t screw up the science lingo. Vision simply smiles. “One that’s only grown stronger throughout these wonderful, amazing years. No matter what we’re doing, or where we are, we will always find each other, we will face every obstacle and accomplishment together. I will always be drawn to you and you to me, I hope.” 

“I will.” 

Wanda beams at the reassurance, “That’s good. I love you, Vision. And, um, even though we’re already pretty comfortable in our little planetary system, I am so incredibly overjoyed to be binding my soul to yours today.” 

“That was beautiful.” 

“Thanks.” A weight falls from her shoulders at the unmitigated love on his face and booming from his mind, her cheeks beginning to sting a bit from how wide her own smile is as she feels his thoughts and feet shift. 

“Wanda Maximoff,” his voice shakes as he adjusts the grip of his hands, his thumbs nervously running over her rings while the gears in his eyes race counterclockwise. “I am most comfortable with the world when it can be quantified and analyzed conclusively, which may come as a shock, I know.” 

“Truly shocking.” 

A gentle kiss is laid on her forehead, the pressure of his lips replaced with the corners of the Mindstone as he touches his face to hers, voice lowering as he continues, “Ever since I came into this world, there were quantifiable changes where you were concerned. My heart rate always increases 2.25 beats per minute whenever you enter a room, 5.73 whenever you smile at me, and 9.62 whenever you touch me.” If she concentrates, Wanda can feel his elevated heart rate even now, thrumming happily in the pulse at his wrist. “During the evenings, my mind spends significantly more minutes replaying our conversations than the combination of my time spent with our teammates. There is also a significant lag in the number of milliseconds it takes me to form words when you stare at me in a particular way,” Vision breathes in, releasing a shaky, self-conscious laugh, “Like the way you are looking at me now.” 

“You’re doing great.” 

“Thank you. Um, so these are only some of the numbers I associate with you,” the rest, no doubt, she could find in spreadsheets and charts, a thought that only increases the smile on her face, which she thought was impossible, “and yet they fail to represent what you mean to me.  Wanda, my love for you defies quantification, and oddly, I find this immensely comforting, that there is no straightforward way to define the ineffable rightness I experience whenever you are with me.” Vision lets go of her hand in order to bring his palm to her cheek, the ridges of his thumb tickling her skin as he wicks away her tears. “I love you, Wanda Maximoff.” 

“Are you,” she lifts onto her toes, bringing their faces closer, “going to kiss your bride now?” 

A radiant grin breaks across his face, “Yes I am.” 

As Vision bends closer a voice booms in their earpieces, “Hey, lovebirds,” Tony’s timing is impeccable, as always, Vision’s forehead falling back to hers in defeat, “Steve just crossed his arms and sighed which means the aneurysm is next, so please, get your asses back here and then you can disappear, capiche?” 

A deep inhale from Vision helps to calm both of them and her own aggravated exhale serves as a mild catharsis. “Let’s just go appease them and then,” she runs her hands up along his arm, always enjoying the feel of his tricep flexing beneath her touch, “we’re going to come back to that whole kissing your bride thing, okay? Because I am expecting one hell of a kiss from you.” 

Vision huffs in amusement. “That is amenable to me.” He swings his body away from the lake, his momentum encouraging her own feet to point towards the hill she walked over earlier, and holds out an arm in the general direction of the basecamp. “Shall we?” 

“I’d really rather not.” 

“Me neither.” 

“But we should go.” 

“Yes, we should.”

They walk back hand in hand, eyes trained up on the sky as Vision points out the differences in this stellar vista from the one they like to watch from the compound roof. As they approach the ship, the unmistakable beat of Starlord’s repetitive music greets them, making it hard for her to hear the last bit of the tragedy of some serpent lovers embedded in the sky. Wanda tamps down her annoyance and heads towards their typical seats, ready to get the strategizing over with and back to Vision. Except their seats aren’t there. “Where’s the…” Wanda glances up and freezes, voice caught in her throat, unable to finish the question. Vision doesn’t need to hear the rest, his own body rigid and confusion thrashing in his mind. 

All of the chairs and boxes have been rearranged from the circle they’ve been using for meetings to rows, separated into two halves by an aisle leading to a four post structure covered in a large, linen cloth that is a singular piece, embroidered with a border of twining Ws and Vs made up of scarlet and gold thread.  “Wanda did you…” his voice trails away, dissipating into the air as they stare at what appears to be their chuppah, well most of it anyway, the posts are not the same branches they’d carefully chosen a month ago. Not that that is important. What is more important is that Wanda knows for a fact she didn’t pack the cloth and if Vision’s own discombobulated thoughts and cessation of breathing means anything, then he also didn’t bring it. 

“It’s about time.” Nat’s voice startles them both, Wanda jumping at the intrusion and Vision’s fingers flinching against her hand. “Steve was about to send out a search party.” 

“Nat,” Wanda leans to the right to glance around their teammate just to double check what she’s seeing is real, “what the hell is going on?” 

The spy presents them the same smug grin that crawls across her face during their biannual poker nights, right around the time they all realize their last chips are about to be taken. “You’re supposed to get married today, right?” When neither of them acknowledges this, Wanda, personally, in too much shock to process what is happening, Natasha’s pride descends into a softer, friendlier cadence. “Sam and I realized as we were all running around packing, that we might miss the wedding.” 

“So we grabbed the important stuff, you know,” the other culprit joins them, a toothy grin on Sam’s face as he throws his arm around Vision’s shoulders, “rings, the canopy thing, Thor got us an intergalactic marriage license he claims will be recognized by the U.S., though we’ll have to figure that one out when we get back because I don’t believe him.” 

The way Natasha's arms cross always makes Wanda nervous, an action that typically precedes bad news, “I couldn’t fit your dress into my bag," her shoulders drop a little, releasing some of the involuntary tension in Wanda's neck, "but I did pack a couple of your normal ones, if you want to change, and apparently Drax is pretty good at braiding hair, if you want that.” Based on Natasha's own disbelief, Wanda is not eager to find out if the man is a braiding aficionado. The dress, needs a bit more thought.

“I, um,” at the tenth obscenely priced bridal store Wanda had told Nat and Pepper that she didn’t care if she got married in her pajamas, which was a bit of an exaggeration, but it also held some truth. Sure, when she was a little girl she had her dreams of fancy dresses made by mice and horse drawn carriages, yet as she got older those fanciful thoughts fled, the world beating them out of her with each tragedy. She’s not a princess and Vision’s not a prince, they’re Avengers and no fancy dress can or should change that. This is their life, the reason they met, and it’s fitting, in a way she hadn’t ever contemplated, to get married as Avengers. “I think I’m fine like this. Vizh?” 

“You did this,” Vision’s voice is distant, a bit strangled, not used to being caught so completely by surprise, and the corners of his eyes glisten as he takes in the grinning faces of their teammates, his mind still about three steps behind in the conversation, “for us?” 

Sam’s incredulous, “Of course, what kind of best man would I be if I didn’t make sure you got down the aisle?” seems to shock Vision even more, his body turning away to take in the area around him and Wanda joins him in this, a smile creeping ever higher on her face at the sight of their teammates mingling. Mantis is stringing makeshift electrical wire garland along the seats where Gamora and Nebula lounge in silence, Rhodes and Starlord appear to be arguing over a boombox, Groot keeps sprouting flowers and placing them in a sizable bouquet, and Thor is just to the left of the chuppah, chatting merrily with Tony and Steve. “You two want to get married, right?” 

“Yes.” The first one is disbelieving, but after Vision meets her eyes to get her consent, which she gives unapologetically with an enthusiastic nod, his second “Yes,” is firm and brimming with excitement. 

Though Wanda’s close with Natasha, they’ve never had a touchy relationship, which makes the arm she lays along Wanda’s shoulder a bit awkward yet still amicable in its unexpectedness, “Good. I know it’s not the lap of luxury you were supposed to have...” 

It’s not, but it is surprisingly close to what they actually wanted. “This is perfect.” 

As if the gesture wasn’t already wonderful, Nat adds another detail to the day, “Rocket even got Helen and the Bartons in on a video feed to watch.” 

“Thank you,” Vision’s voice still trembles with shock, “for all of this.” 

“Seriously, our pleasure,” the shake Sam gives to Vision’s shoulder causes Wanda to sway as well, “let’s get you up front.” 

Vision hesitates at the suggestion, turning back towards Wanda with a furrowed brow, “Should I change?” 

“I think you look fantastic like this,” Wanda fidgets with the edge of his cape as she talks, “plus I’m not changing, so I’d rather you not make me feel underdressed.” 

“Then I will remain like this.” He glances towards the canopy, where only Thor now stands, sending them a friendly wave, and Vision’s lips twitch up when he faces here once more, raising her hand and placing a reverential kiss to her skin, “I will see you shortly.” 

“Bye.” Wanda’s fingers flex at the loss of his touch. The graceful flow of her groom’s gait as he takes his place sends a tingle shooting up her spine while butterflies seem to flutter in her stomach. The sight of the two men speaking quietly with each other, their capes billowing against the rocky backdrop, stirs her heart, a warmth budding in her chest and hitching a ride through her veins until her entire body is aglow. 

“I am Groot.” 

Wanda looks down at the tree, a broad smile forming at the bouquet he offers her. “It’s gorgeous, thank you.” 

“I am Groot.” 

“Thor claimed you all know what to do for the ceremony.” The statement ends in an uptick, Natasha’s own, smaller bouquet tilting to the side as she looks at Wanda for confirmation. 

“As long as he didn’t change anything, then yeah.” 

“Good. I convinced Tony not to walk you down the aisle.” 

This is why Nat was the easy choice for her sole bridal party member. “Thank you.” 

Natasha shrugs, never one to want compliments for doing her job. “Groot volunteered to be the flower…tree, I guess, so he’s going to lead the way, I’ll follow, and then Quill is going to play the only song he owns that seemed mildly appropriate, that’s when you go. Any questions?” 

They have the chuppah, the rings, both she and Vision are conscious and relatively unharmed. It seems all of the most important components are here. Then a chill runs up her spine and her lungs spasm at the thought of forgetting one other vital piece of the ceremony. “Did you grab the frame?” When they began planning in earnest, Vision bought a new, much sturdier frame for the only remaining photos she had of her parents and Pietro, the intent being to place it on a small table next to them so she’d have all of her family with her. 

“It’s on the ammunition case right next to where you’ll be,” Natasha’s bouquet directs her to the case and the silver frame. 

Even if it infringes on the status quo of their friendship, Wanda throws her arms around Nat, “Thank you so much.” 

The hug is reciprocated for a couple seconds and then it ends, Nat pulling back with a half-cocked smile, her eyes a little wet but she acts as if that’s not happening, instead brushing a stray piece of Wanda’s hair away from her forehead. “You sure you two don’t need a few minutes to get ready?” 

“No, we’re good.” 

Natasha let’s go of her with a serious nod that is given levity by the brightness of her, “Then let’s get you married.” 

It feels like a dream, all of it, which makes Wanda’s agreement wistful and a bit uncertain.  “Okay, let’s go.” 

The dreamlike feeling remains even as she watches Groot dance down the aisle, one hand dropping the same small flowers of her bouquet to the rust colored soil and the other releasing flecks of light into the air that remind her of lying in the forest during the summer, marveling with Vision at the way the fireflies blink in and out of existence. When Natasha leaves her, reality starts to set in a little bit, her heart racing and fingers closing tighter around the stalks of her bouquet, and she doesn’t really understand how something so wonderful can make her feel so off-kilter. The song changes and somehow her feet know what to do, moving independently of her mind, a fortunate thing because she’s only vaguely aware of the faces on either side of her, far more enthralled by the tiny, stunning smile gracing Vision’s lips, one that grows with each step she takes until he beams down at her, the love radiating from his mind brighter than any star she’s ever seen. It’s when he takes her hand, right around the first chorus of I fooled around and fell in love, and leads her under the cloth, the moonlight cascading through the fabric, creating a stunning pattern on his vibranium, that it fully hits her: she's getting married. 

“Are you ready?” 

Wanda grins up at her very-soon-to-be-husband, “I am.” 

Wordlessly they move into place for the first part of the ceremony, a tradition Vision insisted remain as they decided what parts from her heritage to keep and which to amend. Not that she wanted to forego this part of the ceremony, but she halfheartedly pretended to just because she enjoyed watching how enthusiastically he outlined the reasons to include it. Wanda lets go of Vision’s hand and steps in front of him. In time with the music, she walks a tight circle around him, making sure to brush his arm on each of her three passes, reaffirming her commitment to be close to him and to protect him. The slight nudge she gives to his shoulder on the last circle is just to keep him on his toes. Once she’s done they switch places, his three revolutions are more elliptical but just as tactile, the tips of his fingers in constant contact with her body while he moves around her, and she accepts his promise to remain with her through all cycles of her life. It’s the seventh and final circle when she finally stares into his eyes, focusing on the jubilant whirl of the gears and the sheepish tilt of his mouth, their bodies facing each other, barely an inch between them, as they take synchronized steps to transition from two separate paths into one joint orbit. 

Thor takes over once they resume their original positions, side by side, a thoroughly thrilled grin on his face and his hands gesturing wide as he speaks. “Welcome my dear friends. Is it not fitting that on this day we are gathered on a field of recent bloodshed,” Vision glances at her, the lift of his eyebrows matching her own amusement at the change in script, “to celebrate this momentous and singular union of two of the universe’s most powerful and otherworldly warriors?” 

The words are allowed to settle before Thor gives a hearty laugh, clapping his hand to her shoulder, leaning forward as if he is telling her a private joke despite the fact his voice is still loud enough for everyone to hear. “It is humorous to me, the evolution of this relationship. Wanda if not for your villainous invasion of my mind,” something she had not considered necessary to bring up at her wedding, “I never would have investigated the existence and capabilities of the Mindstone, and your groom here,” Thor’s other hand lands on Vision’s arm with a loud slap, one that, if it were anyone other than a vibranium-laced synthezoid, would send a body reeling, “would not have come into being. It is truly poetic how deeply entwined your lives were at the onset and how this has been cultivated into a love so true,” he shakes their shoulders to emphasize the words, “and so profound that it will no doubt be sung in the great halls of Midgard for centuries to come. My dear friends,” his large hands leave their shoulders, but not before shoving them closer together with a wink, “it is my honor to be here today to herald in your union. You have prepared vows, yes?” 

The expectant stares around them are stifling, Wanda a person who has never had a strong desire to be the center of attention. “Um yes.” 

“Then please, face each other and speak your unbridled passion.” 

Before either of them move, Natasha stealthily takes her bouquet, leaving Wanda’s hand free and unsure what to do, their actual rehearsal was supposed to be last night and though she knows roughly what happens now, she finds herself a bit lost on who is supposed to do what. Vision reaches out for her floundering hand, encouraging her to swivel to the appropriate position. Reliefs rushes through her at the slightly flummoxed wrinkles of Vision’s forehead, and she finds that when she looks at him, the rest of the people fade away and the only discomfort left, as she counts the ten clicks of his irises, is the antsy tap of her heels as she waits to finally kiss her husband. “Vizh,” the gentleness of his fingers cinching around her hands always flips her stomach and does funny things to her heart, “if it’s okay, I might just do the abridged version, since, well…” 

“Of course,” that little reserved smile on his face, for years, has created sunbursts under her cheeks. It still does. 

“Okay.” Wanda stares at him, studying the textured lines of his face (even though she has them memorized), and then glances down at the contrast of his skin against hers, unable and unwilling to dam up the giddiness spreading throughout her body at holding his hands like this for the rest of her life. A half step back is just enough to take in the way the floating, golden orbs reflect off the vibranium and give his eyes the slightest of shimmers, Wanda committing this moment to memory as the last time she looked at him as her fiancé. “Vision,” she’d meant to recount only bits of her planned vows, yet new words seem to sprout as she takes him in, “you are my best friend, the love of my life, and my planet. I am so lucky that in this weird,” her gaze briefly slides to the faces in the frame, Vision following her gaze and holding her hands a little tighter, “unforgiving world, I managed to find a soul like yours. You make the universe more beautiful and give me hope when I don’t think any exists. I love you so much.” 

Thor wipes a tear away, infringing on their moment with a, “Truly resplendent. And now Vision.” 

A small cough precedes Vision’s barely audible, “You did not inform me these would be improvised.” 

Wanda shrugs, equally quiet with her, “Sorry.”

“I will forgive you.” He winks at her and it sets off a flurry in her chest. “Wanda,” the team took bets on who would cry first in the ceremony, everyone but her betting against Vision, which makes the tear running down his cheek all the sweeter as his voice seems to run away. A gentle squeeze of his hands seems to help him recover. “Wanda,” no amount of pride or money can match the way his voice washes over her, sincerity and love stitched into every word, “as was recently mentioned, my path into this life was a little unusual,” silently she mouths just a bit and is rewarded with the breathy, nigh inaudible snort he does whenever he’s simultaneously amused and embarrassed, “what I am about to say is antithetical to scientific theorem, but there are days I find myself considering kismet because I am unable to accept we found each other by random chance. You were the first person I ever felt in my mind, the first face I ever saw, and the first and only person I ever intend to love.” He pauses, feet shuffling a few times and his voice drops so that the only way she can hear him is to touch his mind. “All the other things I said earlier tonight also apply.” 

“I figured.” 

 “Wanda,” Thor’s voice and countenance maintain the Shakespearean gravitas needed for such a moment, guiding them back to the established ceremonial path. "Do you take Vision,” her eyes remain on the perennial joy of Vision’s face, “to be your husband, to cherish and protect him, to remain by his side in both moments of triumph and adversity, to live a life hallowed by your never-ending love and faithfulness?” 

Vision’s face grows blurry as her eyes fill with tears, but she refuses to let go of his hands in order to wipe them away. “I do.” 

“Excellent. Now Vision, do you take Wanda..."

The words exist only as a crackle in the back of her mind as she watches every tic of Vision’s face – the way his pupils dilate with a subtle click, the darting tip of his tongue that wets his lips whenever he is nervous, the twitching of his cheeks as he attempts to maintain some semblance of control over his emotions, and the scrunch of his nose that lets her know he’s aware she’s staring at him. Suddenly all the tell-tale signs go away and are replaced by a striking confidence and then his lips move and she hears the words a half second after she feels them in her mind, “I do.” 

“Wonderful, and now the rings. Samuel, Natasha.” Their wedding party step up, each handing a ring to Thor. “Wanda, please take the ring."

Wanda turns towards Thor and picks up Vision’s vibranium ring (their rings a very kind wedding gift from T'Challa). The ceremony dictates the officiant say the vow first, but Wanda knows it by heart, having said it dozens of times in her daydreams, so she forges on without any help. “With this ring,” she brings Vision’s hand up and begins to slide the ring along his finger, “you are now a part of me, for I love you as my soul.” His ring finishes its journey a lot smoother than any of their practice runs, something she thinks could be related to a minimal manipulation of his molecules, but she’ll lecture him on that later, far too excited to proclaim to everyone around them, “You are now my husband.” 

"Now Vision, please repeat after me." The reprimand is in good fun, but Vision still straightens up at the command, refusing to ditch tradition as enthusiastically as she does.  

It’s almost impossible not to bounce on the balls of her feet as Vision slides his left hand under hers, lifting it into position where it lines up with the simple vibranium band gripped between his thumb and index finger. Thor’s voice is drowned out by the rapid beating of her heart, so strong it vibrates her entire body, but not loud enough to stifle Vision’s own words, “With this ring,” the metal is cool on her skin as he inches it to her first knuckle, “you are now a part of me, for I love you as my soul,” they’d practiced this, with some of her other rings, a few days before they left, and just like all their practices, Vision gets the ring stuck on her second knuckle, lips pursing as she wiggles her finger in encouragement. One more push and it clinks against her engagement ring, his thumb glancing over the band. There’s an adoring smile on his face as he declares, “You are now my wife.” 

What is supposed to come next is the formal announcement, followed by a breaking of a glass, and then, finally, their kiss. Wanda, however, feels like they didn’t think through the order very well, so she eschews the plan and draws Vision to her, finally able to kiss her husband. Somewhere in the distance she can hear Thor laughing and cheers from their teammates but they are muted by the feel of Vision’s arm snaking around her waist to draw her against his chest, his head tilting ever so slightly to the right to deepen the kiss, and then, just to make sure he keeps his promise of one hell of a kiss, Vision dips her low to another round of cheers.  “I love you,” his lips brush hers as he speaks, “my wife.” 

“I love you too…hubby,” the way he chuckles enlivens her soul, sparks sputtering under her skin at his delight.  Vision pulls her back up firmly onto her feet, his hands cupping her face for one more exuberant kiss. 

“Friends,” Thor steps closer to them, “we only have two more actions and then you may relish the bliss of your nuptial oath.” Reluctantly Wanda steps back from Vision, their hands finding each other once more, only this time there’s a new sensation on his finger, a piece of metal she’s never felt, that’s new and right and perfect. “It is with great honor and joy that I,” Thor nudges them to turn towards their teammates who are standing, varying degrees of happiness on their faces, even most of the Guardians seeming to have been swept up in the moment, “present to you Wanda and Vision Maximoff.” 

Swiftly Sam lays down a glass and covers it with a towel, flashing them a thumbs up as he steps away. “Well, Maximoff,” she’s waited so long to use that name for him, and the wait was worth it, his face breaking out into a brilliant, moony radiance, “on three?” 

“On three.” 

“One, two, three,” Wanda grips his hand tighter as their feet come down on the glass, shattering it into pieces with the hope that their happiness in the years going forward will be more plentiful than what lies beneath the towel and that their love is just as irrevocable. 

Tony shouts a, “Mazol Tov!” and everyone leaves their seats.

   It is much later, after copious amounts of not-mission-approved alcohol is imbibed and most of the team has sat down, their arms sore from the unexpected competition that occurred to see who could hoist Wanda and Vision's chairs up the highest, and their feet tired of dancing to the same rotation of songs, that Wanda is able to have Vision to herself. They sway beneath the starry sky, arms snug around each other and foreheads resting together, cherishing this moment of bliss since the morning will return them to the mission. Wanda draws her husband into another kiss, melting into the devotion of his lips and the way he gently grabs her waist, content knowing that no matter what life offers, it will all be made so much brighter with him by her side, just two celestial bodies careening through this unpredictable universe together.