#hope everyone has a smashing 2024

[asforetoldsobelow-comic]

As Foretold, So Below, chapter 1, Suenfield's Son, page 14

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[START FROM THE BEGINNING!]

[crescentfool]

my longest friend and companion

[w2soneshots]

Over the years -W2S

warnings: mentions of pregnancy.

summary: your and Harry’s relationship each year from twenty-sixteen to now through instagram posts.

notes: hello lovelies! For once this isn’t a request, thought of it all busy myself🙂‍↕️. I used Bella Hadid for the face claim (I usually don’t use just one person but it made sense for this)🫶🏼. Also, omfg did this take ages… one thousand photos and a week later I’m finally finished! Don’t forget to reblog and enjoy💞✨

2016... the year you became boyfriend and girlfriend

Liked by miniminter, zerkaa and others

y/username: love youuu @wroetoshaw

-comments-

wroetoshaw: love you more

-> y/username: 😋❤️

tobjizzle: ay! happy for u 2!

-> y/username: ty Tobes!!

y/nfanpage21: cuteeeee oh my gosh🫂

user: my two worlds colliding

y/username posted a new story!

2017... your first big holiday as a couple

wroetoshaw posted a new story!

Liked by wroetoshaw, freyanightingale and others

y/username: Italy🍝✨🇮🇹

-comments-

callux: looks sick, hope you had a great time!

-> y/username: we diddd! best pizza ever😌

y/nfanpage21: this is adorable💞

user: Harry in the unicorn floaty lol

2018... festival season

Liked by calfreezy, behzingagram and others

y/username: drunk, covered in glitter and hot, but ready for some bangin music!🤸‍♂️☀️🍺

-comments-

wroetoshaw: definitely hot😉🔥

-> y/username: lmao smooth

reevhd: vibes = immaculate

y/nfanpage21: outfit on FLEEK🤭

user: she's so perfect for Harry omg

y/username posted a new story!

2019... London and the boys

wroetoshaw posted a new story!

Liked by tobjizzle, mollymae and others

y/username: 19 you've been good to me, see you all next year!!🎆

-comments-

wroetoshaw: ⛷️

taliamar: gorggg!💓

-> y/username: mwah😚

y/nfanpage21: I live for y/n with the sidemen boys

user: she's the original icon⭐️

2020... the virus

Liked by ksi, wroetoshaw and others

y/username: haven't posted in awhile, here's a few very uninteresting photos from my week🥞🤍 stay safe everyone and please STAY INSIDE!

-comments-

calfreezy: daily runs entered the chat

-> y/username: running buddy 4 life🏃‍♀️

y/nfanpage21: ahh we've missed you girly!!😭

user: Harry and his biohazard bag against the world

y/username posted a new story!

2021... new beginnings

Liked by behzingagram, taliamar and others

y/username: a random dog turned up on our front step today (he has been safely returned to his owner dw🐶), pleaseee can someone convince @wroetoshaw that this is a sign we should get a puppy😫🙏

-comments-

wroetoshaw: brilliant, now my dm's are filled with people asking if your pregnant (also no puppy)

-> y/username: omg shit, forgot to specify that that's my FOOD baby vs Faiths ACTUAL baby🤣 (we're getting a puppy)

faithlouisak: love u wifey

-> y/username: 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

y/nfanpage21: she's so unserious lmao the first and second pic

y/username posted a new story!

2022... the year he finally popped the question

Liked by sidemen, joeweller and others

y/username: we're engaged!! enjoy this dump from our week away, where I had NO idea I was going to become a fiancé hehehe��💓

-comments-

wroetoshaw: only took me 7 years

-> y/username: not bad for you tbf babes😌🫶

tobjizzle: congrats again guys❤️

freyanightingale: AHHH! unbelievably happy for you y/n🥹💝

y/nfanpage21: our fav couples growing up

user: HE'S DONE IT!!!!

y/username posted a new story!

2023... bride and groom

Liked by chrismd10, wroetoshaw and others

y/username: random photos from my week + wedding prep commences!💫💝

-comments-

faithlouisak: SHE'S GETTING FUCKING MARRIED!!!🥳

-> y/username: hehe thank you once again for the cake girl, smashed the brief

callux: exiting stuff😯

y/nfanpage21: makeup... ate. hair... ate. cake... they ate it.

user: I can't WAIT to see what dress she picks

y/username posted a new story!

2024... the year you became mummy and daddy

Liked by wroetoshaw, dualipa and others

y/username: counting down the days until we meet baby girl...🎀🌟

-comments-

ksi: can't wait to spoil her😁

-> y/username: uncle JJ incoming...

faithlouisak: your GLOWING mama💕

y/nfanpage21: the book🥺

user: two youngest sidemen having a kid before the others lol💁‍♀️

y/username posted a new story!

2025... the life you've always dreamed of

y/username posted a new story!

Liked by zerkaa, faithlouisak and others

y/username: right where I want to be💌

-comments-

wroetoshaw: my beautiful girls

-> y/username: love u💞

taliamar: brill, got Mushu trying to eat my strawberry😂

-> y/username: he stood there for a good ten minutes, bless him. maybe next time buddy🥲🐕

y/nfanpage21: oh... to have her life

user: fun fact: this was posted exactly nine years from their first couple post, how cute❤️‍🩹

[yeahxsurexokay13]

bragger, lando norris

summary: fans constantly tease yn for always bringing lando up and being a bit of a simp for her boyfriend - which only gets worse after his first f1 win - so she writes a song about how if they were her they'd do the same.

warnings: none i think??? but let me know if i missed any. the song mentioned is 'bragger' by kelsea ballerini!! (((:

IN HONOUR OF LANDO'S VERY FIRST WIN !! 🥇

y/n.updates

Liked by fan22 and 1.340 others

y/n.updates Y/n's interview with WIRED where she answers the web's most searched questions about her is now out! Go give it a watch 😄

view all 208 comments

fan1 she looked painfully beautiful in this

fan2 how was lando in the answer for questions like 'does y/n speak spanish?' or 'is y/n a good singer?' lol

fan7 she said she didn't remember much from high school but knew some words lando had been taught by carlos sainz and that her boyfriend tells her she is... it kind of isn't that weird if u think about it haha

user1 The more I see of her, the more I like her

fan7 i spy with my little eye 1.6K people with no taste

fan3 interview was everything I hoped for and more! she's hilarious and relatable as always

fan4 new drinking game: take a shot every time she mentions lando

fan5 I've watched it like 5 times already lol

fan6 we need a tally for how many times Y/n drops 'Lando' in her interviews. can someone make that happen?

y/n.y/l

Liked by carlossainz55 and 1.890.321 others

y/n.y/l the vibe i bring to the function (ugly crying on facetime) !!! so incredibly happy for you @/landonorris. you did it 🧡🧡🧡

view all 3.501 comments

y/n.y/l also congrats @/oscarpiastri and everyone else at mclaren for an amazing race ((((:

oscarpiastri thank you Y/n! 🧡 ❤️ by author

landofan4 ok this is very cute and nice of her🥺🥺

fan1 ARE YOU STILL CRYING ? BECAUSE I AM DEFINITELY STILL CRYING

y/n.y/l started crying on lap 54 and haven't stopped since

fan2 new post from my fave lando norris fan account yay (also go lando!!!!!!)

user1 Well deserved 👏🏼👏🏼

landofan3 soy lago

y/n.y/l same

lnfour LFGGGG ❤️ by author

fan3 How many times do you think Y/n's going to mention Lando's win in the next week? Taking bets now

maxfewtrell It's the messy hair and smudged mascara for me

y/n.y/l knew i should've gone for the 'perfectly composed while crying' look instead 😔

landofan1 rip lando nowins: 2019-2024 ❤️ by author

landofan2 "you were scared? i wasn't. i was ok (laughs). thank you. i love you" lando 🥹🥹🥹

fan5 when did he say that? omg

landofan2 f1 posted a reel on their profile and you can hear him talking to her!

mclaren LANDO NORRIS IS A FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER 🏆

y/n.y/l I AM SO NOT CALM ABOUT THIS ??!!?

user2 i could've sworn i saw her at the race? why are they facetiming?

fan4 they could barely speak after the win tbh! this is probably a call in between interviews

user2 today's bottle smash hit different ❤️ by author

landonorris I've said this like a million times already today but I love you so much

y/n.y/l i love you i love you i love you i love you

y/n.y/l

Liked by pietra.pilao and 1.809.896 others

y/n.y/l if he was yours, you'd do the same without apologising... new single 'bragger' out now!!!! 💋💋

view all 3.890 comments

fan6 WHAT HAPPENED TO HWLLO ?? HOW ARE YIU ??

y/n.y/l 🫢🫢

fan1 "he's just too damn good not to mention" .....................i mean she is right we'll give that to her ❤️ by author

landofan1 USING THESE SPECIFIC PICS OF LANDO TO ANNOUNCE THE RELEASE OF A SINGLE ABOUT BRAGGING ABOUT HIM IS WILD !!!!

landofan5 that last video is doing things to me.........

landonorris i'm confused does anyone know who this is about?

y/n.y/l no idea 🤷🏽‍♀️ but let me know if you find out xx

landofan4 apparently about some guy named bob?? I'm not sure

fan8 HAHAHA I LOVE THEM

fan2 she really wanted to make sure she'd made her point clear with this dump omfg

fan3 her point: she has a hot bf and we don't

user1 Well played, Y/N. Well played. 🥸

fracisca.cgomes On repeat ❤️❤️

y/n.y/l lindaaaaaaa ❤️

landofan2 knowing all she's saying is about lando makes the song x1000 times better

fan7 so she saw the tweets... 😐

y/n.y/l i saw everything 👀 they were actually hard to miss hahaha

user2 "i understand why you would want him (i don't mind)" queen behaviour !!!!!! 👑👑

fan4 So this is how she gets back at us for all the teasing lol not complaining at all

landofan3 I can't believe this new song is actually inspired by the fans' teasing about Lando!!🤣

fan5 we joked, she delivered!!! bragger is actually a banger👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

[uolarieclosed]

park sunghoon ☆ ! the perfect pair

━━━ in which your academic rival not only fueled your anger but your love …

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND SUNGHOON who started out as your academic rival. you hated the smile on his face whenever he showed off his full score, and he hated the way you mocked him when he got an answer wrong.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND SUNGHOON who can’t keep his eyes off you whenever you study together. the dim light of the library making your lips look more appealing than ever before.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND SUNGHOON who indirectly confessed by pulling you back into his car to kiss you, his hand wrapped around your sweater to keep you close.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND SUNGHOON who asked to be your boyfriend through one of your favorite book quotes.

‘I would not wish any companion in the world but you, you are my everything, so let me be yours.’

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND SUNGHOON who keeps his arm around you while you walk the halls, hand sliding down to your hip to pinch you teasingly.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND SUNGHOON who likes to stay behind with you while you finish student council work. however, he uses this opportunity to corner you against the desk and kiss you.

“sunghoon, someone might walk in.” you slap his shoulder, wanting to push him away but he was just too intoxicating. “just a little kiss, i can’t wait any longer.” he says before smashing his lips onto yours.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND SUNGHOON who keeps your scrunchie on his wrist while he goes into the senior class, knowing how many girls are pining over him.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND SUNGHOON who leaves little notes in your locker, hoping they cheer you up.

‘for some reason every love song makes me think of you XP’ — your lovely boyfriend

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND SUNGHOON who flexes his muscles when he calls you into the locker room, enjoying the way you blush. sunghoon will then have you sit on his lap while he guides your hand to run down his biceps.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND SUNGHOON who lends you all his caps/jerseys, knowing that everyone can spot his belongings from a mile away.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND SUNGHOON who back hugs you whenever he can. he doesn’t care who’s watching or what he’s doing, his arms will be around you while his lips attack your neck.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND SUNGHOON who brings you a snack during every free period.

“what’s this?” you examine the bag of chips. “i heard your stomach growling during class.” sunghoon shrugs, tugging your hair lightly with a smug grin.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND SUNGHOON who is still your biggest rival and sometimes your competition with each other can blind your love.

“we both know i’m always gonna beat you, baby.” although he meant it endearingly, he hadn’t realized how hard it hit you.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND SUNGHOON who grovels for as long as he has to to have you back in his arms.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND SUNGHOON who stands on your doorstep with a bouquet while vigorously ringing your doorbell to have you come out.

“what i said was stupid, i’m sorry. please love me again.” sunghoon frowns, stepping into your house as you open the door wider.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND SUNGHOON who knows exactly where home is—you.

© 2024 uolarie

[mourn-and-watch]

in all seriousness, dragon age being almost officially dead to me is, like, whatever. i'm used to hanging out in dead fandoms because i'm usually extremely late to the party so i think i'll manage. i was excited for veilguard but even if it was bad bad for me (which it wasn't. i have my problems with it but they didn't ruin the franchise for me) i would also manage because dragon age to me always was extremely flawed but had an enormous potential for fan content. at some point i started to treat it like my favourite fantasy playground where i can smash pre-existing barbie dolls with the ones i made myself. all my barbie dolls are in place and i still can do whatever i want (and i plan to continue to do so) and, i guess, i shouldn't be upset.

i am upset, however. for all the devs affected by laid-offs, but especially the writers. these people created dragon age as we know it, and it's been a messy series in every aspect, including the writing, it's been insensitive at times, at times dumb and undercooked, but there was always an immense amount of potential that's been inspiring fans for years, and also a feeling that all, or at least the most of it was created with genuine passion. and realizing that there is no one left from the team that made dragon age what it is, every installment of it, is just. genuinely sad. and it's not a theseus ship dilemma, because it's not like they were slowly replaced one by one. they were just fired. this ship is destined to sink, it's falling apart in front of our eyes because neither ea nor bioware cares about writing. not many companies do nowadays, to be honest. and it's kinda devastating. grifters will celebrate that like a "downfall of woke slop", but they'll get only more ai slop instead, lol, because good writing doesn't guarantee good sells. best selling games of 2024 are shooters and sports games. and elden ring which is a nice exception, but an exception nevertheless.

i don't think mass effect will save bioware at this point. even if it's an absolute banger it still has to meet ea's expectations. which are unrealistic, to say the least. also people who wrote characters like mordin, tali, legion, thane, garrus and liara are all gone. either they left themselves or were laid off. like, if you want "old bioware magic" to return, there is none. the same people who wrote your favourite characters and storylines in da/me were also working on veilguard. i may be wrong, but somehow i think they didn't all lose their ability to write here because they went woke or whatever. i think the inconsistent quality of datv writing that can only be described as 'we're so back/it's so over' pic is a consequence of multiple rewrites, constant director changes and shitty decisions, both internal and coming from bioware/ea higher-ups. i also may be wrong, but it wouldn't be such a big problem if writing wasn't at the bottom of priority list.

if i recall correctly, when gaider left willingly, he highlighted that bioware didn't treat its writers seriously at that point. and i'd say that tracks. like, from countless veilguard rewrites and scrapped ideas to lay-offs of every single studio veteran.

idk what else there is to say. i'll cheer for every studio that value its writers and i hope all ex-bioware devs will be able to do something new and exciting. i also doubt bioware is the last studio that will experience such a decline in the years to come. the narrative of this shitshow will also be twisted into 'go woke go broke' and it already slightly draws me insane. fuck ea fuck bioware fuck grifters. also i beg everyone to start appreciating writing as a craft because otherwise it's only going to get worse!

[dashcon-two]

Introducing Mel Encholy of the Cirque du Dash

Thank you to everyone who responded to our last survey asking for volunteers! We've gotten a ton of amazing applications, and we'll be reaching out soon.

Just in time for spooky month, we're happy to introduce to you to the spookiest member of the Cirque du Dash! Mel Encholy is the troupe's contortionist, and we hope you'll love them as much as we do!

[ALT TEXT] An Image of a clown in all purple, wearing a jester's hat. They stand on a blue background next to the following text: Mel Encholy (Any Pronouns | Contortionist) We really don’t know much about Mel’s heritage, they just sort of showed up on the circus’ doorstep and has stuck around ever since. When she’s not moonlighting as your local cryptid, Mel can be found in deep Wikipedia rabbit holes or the corners of your vision after one too many Benadryl. He’s an artistic soul, and his passion can drive him to great (dubiously ethical) lengths in the name of creative freedom. But at the end of the day, Mel always enjoys a nice sharpie bath to decompress.

Likes: Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness (The Smashing Pumpkins), frog, rereading Homestuck for the 37th time this year.

Dislikes: Gambling, Wearing socks to bed, the Minecraft Movie trailer (2024), The Hat Man.

[ussgallifrey]

(She Moves With) Shameless Wonder | 32

✦ Summary: Your badge clearly said SHIELD consultant, so you weren’t entirely sure where Fury was getting this whole make you an Avenger idea from. But you had a feeling it might have something to do with the recent discovery of an artifact at the bottom of the Arctic Sea.

✦ Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

✦ Warnings: Canon divergence, dialogue taken directly from Captain America: Civil War and the Marvel Civil War comic, language, minor violence.

✦ Word Count: 10.8k

✦ Playlist: Here

✦ Cinematic Soundtrack: Here

✦ Author's Note: Heyyyy. Well, the fact is, I kind of checked out for a few months after everything that happened in November. I couldn't find it in myself to open up my drafts to read, let alone work on anything. But, after focusing on my family and my home life for a much-needed while, it felt like I was finally at a point where I could come back to this story.

I love this story. I want to finish this story. I have missed this story. And, quite frankly, it felt amazing to be able to push through this draft that's been sitting in a folder since September, 2024 and actually finish it. Welcome back to everyone who gets a random update at 2:15 AM. Sorry it took a while to get an update, but I have hope that I can get this story back on track now. Wish me luck and enjoy the chapter <3

[Master List]

Your curled fist hesitates over the cool surface of the smooth door for just a stretch too long as the internal conflict brewing since Steve left collides like a wave against the shore of your inner mind.

While you were silent in the moment, watching on as the team began to pull at the loose thread that wove you all together, in this instance, you would be pushing forward. This was far overdue.

You give three sharp raps to the door.

And, as the many times before this moment, you receive no reply.

Jamming your body against the frame, your lips nearly caressing the door itself, you announce:

“You’re going to open this door on your own accord, or I’m going to appear in that room in a minute. Either way, I’m coming in.”

Pulling back, you await his decision. You wanted him to have the choice to begin with; allow him that tiny crumb of control in the chaos.

Slowly, the locks click open and the door creaks inward.

Pushing against the threshold, you enter the darkened space - nearly tripping over an empty pizza box - as your eyes attempt to adjust to the low-lit space.

“How in the All-Father’s name did you manage to get a pizza down here?” you question, nabbing the grease-stained box from the floor before tossing it into an adjacent corner.

Several empty cans of energy drinks and crinkling plastic wrappers are stepped on as you force your way further in.

Pietro gives a heartless chuckle, “Never even saw me leave, did you?”

Squinting against the darkness, you can just barely make out his silhouette on the bed, stark white hair an eerie beacon.

“You have been getting faster according to Steve.”

“Huh. And… where is Mr. America?”

Pushing aside a game controller, you lean over to flick on the bedside light - illuminating the sheer destruction of his room.

This was not just the pathetic decorating attempts of a teenage boy.

No… this was…. this was…

Cronus, you didn’t even have words for it.

The bed and table were about the last of the fully intact items in the space. The TV was smashed, the floor holding the remnants of long-abandoned meals, and a deep rivet has been cut through the carpet from constant pacing.

“You know…” you scoot closer to the boy, his back still to you as he faces the opposite wall, “Wanda’s been worried about you. We all have.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t need her pity.”

“It’s not pity, Pietro. It’s… mutual grief. And secluding yourself in here isn’t - hasn’t - been the answer.”

A rogue sniffle is your only indicator before the teenager drops his head, a hand rubbing across his face as his shoulders begin to shake - from anger or sadness, you’re still unsure.

“It’s my fault, you know. I didn’t listen… I just… I opened my mouth and couldn’t stop,” he lets out a breathless huff of sour laughter as he, at last, turns to face you - the full scope of his anguish painted across his face like a sordid tale. Eyes rounded by deep agonizing purple shades, lips cracked and pale. A gaze too haunted for his so few years of existence.

“Felt like I was a big shot, doing the superhero thing. And I just… couldn’t shut my mouth. I didn’t even see the vest. I could have killed all of us right then and there,” he shakes his head again, tears springing to his eyes as broken laughter stumbles from his chapped lips. “Hell, I did really. You know, they still haven’t released the official death toll. But I heard estimates of close to eighty.”

“Hey,” you shush, reaching across the comforter to squeeze his hand tightly in your grasp. “That is not your sole responsibility to bear, okay? And if you had let us in before now, you would have heard Steve and Natasha and your sister tell you the same thing.”

He launches off the bed, digging his hand into the errant curls on his head as he huffs, “But I still did it! I know it, in here - ” the boy slams a fist against his chest; his heart.

“You’re not infallible, Pietro. You’re human; you make mistakes.”

“That have a death toll?” he snips.

Your lips form a tight crease as you adjust your posture, smoothing out the wrinkles on his bed.

“Sometimes, in this line of work, yes.”

“Jesus,” he mutters, working himself into a pace.

You let him have his moment as that same sort of frantic madness overtakes his young body. A wild and distraught look in his eyes mixed with the squeezing of his balled-up fists at his sides.

“You know,” you start, reaching a hand out to pull him back down on the bed. He plops down beside you, a little too easily moved. “You’re not the only person to make a costly mistake.”

“Rich,” he quips, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, “coming from a literal goddess.”

“What, you think the weight of my immortality makes me infallible?”

With a shrug, he looks away - discontent to meet your gaze.

Turning your body to face Pietro, you shift your weight to the left as you cross your leg over your right knee; bracing yourself.

“Well, if you must know, when I was quite young - okay, I know you’re going to laugh, so might as well get it out now - when I was about three hundred and thirty-four…”

The mutant chortles beside you, unable to help himself as he turns his head, “Wow. So young.”

With a blossoming smile, you gently push your shoulder into his, “Hush. When I was younger… I was sort of at war with my brother. We were always trying to impress our father, trying to one-up each other with heroic human battles and great feats of godliness and… just about anything you can imagine two war-based deities could think of.”

The distant memory of Ares pulls up like a scab from an old, never-fully-healed over scar.

It wasn’t often you spared a thought toward the banished god, but today, you made a small exception. After that chaotic moment in the kitchen with the rest of the team, a part of you wanted to feel the entirety of that sensation right now, in this moment. Let it sting. Let it burn. Let it make you hurt because of your own failings.

“I made… awful choices back then, Pietro. I was quick to anger, faster to judgment. You would not want to meet that younger version of myself.”

Before the words even come to the surface, you begin to wring your hands together. An soured acidic breath scorches your throat.

You needed him to understand that he was not solely to blame for poor decisions. That he should not have to carry the burden alone. Not with everything going on outside of the Compound. No, you needed him to trust you - to not run away again.

“Tell me… have you ever heard of the myth of Medusa?”

With a slight tilt to his head, he puckers his lips up in thought.

“Uh… woman who turns people to stone, crazy snake hair, right?”

A slight smirk curls at the corner of your lips as he gestures vaguely around his own head.

“Yes, that’s the one,” you nod, bracing your hands on your knees - knuckles clenched tight enough to the point of genuine discomfort. “So… my brother wasn’t the only family member I came to blows with. My Uncle - Poseidon, God of the Sea… we have a very difficult history. We were in a contest to see who would be the patron deity of this Greek city, and… I won. They named the city in my name: Athens. Bested by his own niece, a lesser god in his mind.”

With a shake of your head, you move to stand, walking a slight pace away from the teen as you grip your crossed arms.

“There was a temple in my name. Priestesses worked there, worshiping me day and night. Promising me their devotion above anything else. They were to never stray from their duties, never… be with a man.”

You can’t even meet the boy’s eye now, but you know he is fully focused on your tale.

“Well, one day… my uncle came to my temple and forced himself upon one of the priestesses, Medusa. She prayed to me for help, as I was her patron goddess.”

You barely notice the sensation of your nails sinking into your forearms before you blink away the entrenched emotion from many centuries ago.

“And what did I do? Young, naive, constantly angry, and too foolish to take just a moment to listen to any voice of reason? I cursed her for lying with a man,” your words become choked in your throat as you meet Pietro’s shocked eyes. “I turned her into a hideous monster who no man would ever lay his eyes upon.”

“And some might say it was a gift that I gave her in the end. Being able to protect herself from the terrible beasts that would dare to touch her in the way Poseidon once had. But it’s not the truth. I wanted her to suffer for breaking one of my temple’s laws. And for years,” your voice shatters at last as you wearily shake your head. “The image of the hideous gorgon was what was emblazoned upon my shield. She, in all of her terror, was my symbol.”

In the beat of silence that passes, Pietro sits up straighter on the bed. His eyes are chillingly cold as he looks up at you – reminding you of one simple truth: you deserved every part of what you are currently feeling. The guilt and shame; all of it.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Your expression breaks as you stare down at the boy you had welcomed into your home, into your arms. The boy who reminded you of another - one with sunkissed laughter and trilling lute strings and radiant smiles.

“I’m telling you this so that you understand, even those of us who seem incapable of making rash and terrible decisions are in fact, and likely have, made such choices. That those choices do not define us. They make us better, stronger.”

Moving to rejoin him on the bed, you let out a long sigh – letting the centuries ease out with it like billowing sand in a desert breeze.

“It took me some time to realize where my decision had come from. The gods, they praised it - they cheered me on. Zeus himself was so pleased by my creative punishment, that he named me as his heir apparent over my brother. But the people… the people who had named their city after me… their worship waned and their ire grew. Only when I walked among them as a stranger did I learn their true feelings; their disdain for the immortals. It made me grow up, essentially.”

“And Medusa?”

A wisp of breath catches on your lips as your eyes cloud over with the hazy memory you had wished to keep locked away until the universe burned away into twinkling stardust and then complete nothingness.

“By then… it was too late. The demigod Perseus beheaded her, no less with my help. Pietro, please - ” your fingers wrap around his hand as you force his gaze. “ - this great mistake will not be your last, but you are going to learn from it. And the first step is speaking to Wanda and assuring her that she hasn’t suffered alone in this matter because that’s what she thinks has happened.”

He leans back, a perplexed look on his face, “No, she has to know, yeah? I wouldn’t keep my door locked and just - ”

“No one came in or out for a week, Pietro. And right now, she’s so terrified that because of Wall Street, the two of you are going to be taken away. And we are trying to assure her that you are both safe here, but it would be much easier if you were - ”

With a jerky nod, he squeezes your hand in return before standing up - smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothes.

“I’ll talk to her.”

“Thank you,” you offer him a smile as you stand up, cupping his cheek in the palm of your hand.

He leans into the touch, his eyes briefly fluttering shut.

“And, if you need to talk or vent, or Cronus, break something, please just… come to me. Or anyone else here. You’re not alone anymore, I promise you that.”

Looking a little taken aback by the statement, the teenager stuffs his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and offers you an awkward smile and nod before he exits the room.

Taking a look around at the disarray, you let out a long and shuddering breath as the weight of over three millennia comes crashing down upon you once again.

Looping the strand of auburn hair between your fingers, your blazoned eyes lift up to catch Natasha’s pointed gaze.

“So,” the assassin breathes out, glancing back down at her captured hand. “How far out of the comfort zone are you dragging me?”

You can feel the rumble of laughter from Wanda as you weave another braid down her back. The teenager smiles up at Natasha as she lays the first swipe of electric blue nail polish down upon the woman’s left index finger.

“Unfathomably far.”

“Wow, unfathomably.”

While you weren’t entirely sure how the three of you had wound up in this rather intimate position on the floor of the communal living space - the TV finally turned off; the news no longer on a constant loop - you weren’t entirely complaining about the arrangement.

Clint snorts from his relaxed position on the armchair - one foot kicked up onto the coffee table in front of him as he takes another swig of his beer.

“What, you want in on this?” Natasha questions her partner with an exaggerated batting of her eyelashes.

“ ‘m good,” he smirks.

With a secretive smile of your own, you begin separating three more strands of hair - now on the left side of Wanda's head.

To the best of your knowledge, the siblings had made peace yesterday and were now tentatively co-existing around one another once again. Glancing toward the kitchenette, you spot Pietro. His dark eyes take in the domestic scene spread out in front of him with a distant look upon his face.

You knew it would take more than a few encouraging words and pep talks to get him to peek out of his shell once again. Maybe if Steve was around, it would take a shorter amount of time. But the fact was, no one had heard from the supersoldier since he had stormed out of the Compound three days ago.

“You know - ” tilting your head back, a smile loosening on your features, you watch as Tony plops down on the edge of the sofa, directly behind you - his hand holding an imaginary brush as he mimics combing your hair, “I just love these sleepovers with you guys.”

“Hey,” Natasha sighs, flashing him a warning look. “Invites only, you know the drill.”

“Unless you want me to do your hair?” you question, glancing back at the billionaire.

Tony immediately lifts his hands up, “Please, I spent an hour on this.”

While the tussled locks of his dark hair appeared to be anything other than styled, the engineer hefts up from the couch and wanders toward the kitchen - avoiding the teenage boy’s eyes. Your own gaze follows his path across the room.

It felt like walking on eggshells anymore with the billionaire around.

Tying off the last braid, you gently pat Wanda’s back, “Think that does it.”

The young witch offers you a thin smile in return as she focuses back on painting the Widow’s nails a varying array of deep blues and emerald greens.

Stretching up from the floor, Tony’s eyes land on you - a silent beckoning there in his gaze.

When you move to the kitchen island, taking up residence on one of the metal stools, Pietro conveniently finds a reason to head toward the gym. You didn’t particularly blame him - things were awkward enough as is around here lately.

“So,” Tony breathes out when he notes the boy is out of sight, his voice low and steady. “Any word from red, white, and spangled blue?”

Your fingers clench down on your thighs as you shake your head, chancing a look up at the man standing beside the dark stone counter.

He huffs a lifeless laugh, shaking his head.

“Wonderful.”

As Tony crosses his arms, you watch as a sour expression clouds his features.

“You know, we could have handled it. We could have had a place in those meetings; those negotiations. Been there, done that before, you know?”

Giving a nod, your eyes follow the billionaire as he drops down onto the stool beside you - your backs to the rest of the room.

“It just pisses me off.”

“I know.”

Running a hand through his hair, he cranes his neck to look at you.

“I’m just sitting here thinking about what could be, you know what I mean? Like… we could have had a committee for oversight, no problem, no argument here. We could have put some people from our side on the board - like Rhodey… or hell, even Rogers. People who would have our interests at heart. If we had all just… sat on our hands and shut the hell up and… yeah, not make an ass of ourselves on TV with a grieving woman.”

The shape of your nails becomes a sudden point of interest as you avoid the haunted look in the dark eyes of Tony Stark.

For all of your own fallacies, you knew the man beside you was all too aware of his own weak points. Always trying to improve, to better himself and the lives of the people around him. Everything he did was out of a sense to protect the world; to protect the team.

“I mean…” Tony bites at his thumb for a second, gaze distant, “Opening up channels for negotiations is a cakewalk. A few sweet words here, some faux apologies there, a transfer of cash or the promise of a luxury car and, bam, you’re in.”

Shaking his head, he drums his fingers on the counter, mind clearly running faster than his own mouth can keep up with.

“Fuck, I just wish Rogers would have stayed around long enough to hear me ramble.”

“You know Steve,” you sigh, turning fully on the stool to face Tony. “Once he gets a thought in his head… well, you remember Insight.”

“Yeah, anything to do with you or Barnes, and the guy’s out of here.”

As your brow pinches, you question, “What does that mean?”

“Oh.”

Tony’s cheeks puff up like a fish for a moment before he looks away, swinging his feet back down onto the ground, “Well, you know. Favorite people and all. Do you know how many times he ran off when he got a not-so-secretive call about a Soldier sighting, or, better yet, when he got a little text from someone otherworldly and godly saying they were back in town? Yeah, wrapped around your finger, sweetheart. Or… thought he was.”

Absently kicking at imaginary dirt on the ground, the billionaire stuffs his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

“You’ve tried, right? Texting him, I mean. Cause, trust me, he ain’t answering if it’s coming from my number.”

Glancing back down at the counter - you could almost count the number of tiny white and gold flakes in the pattern to avoid the conversation if you wanted to.

“Yeah, I sent a message or two.”

Letting out a low whistle, Tony rocks back on his heels.

“Ouch. Well, best case scenario he’s sulking it out with Wilson somewhere off the beaten path.”

You almost want to ask what the worst case scenario would be, but your mind has already conjured up a few choice images for your own anxiety to ruminate on. At least you hadn’t seen him on the nightly news. Yet.

Perhaps that was your biggest fear.

Steve putting all of his eggs in one basket and storming Congress to give the Senators a piece of his own ideals.

The SRA had passed through the Senate, now it was up for a vote in the House. And then it would only be a matter of time before the President was set to sign it into law. You weren’t even sure if Tony’s reach could stop that from happening now.

Meanwhile, the UN had continued its fifth day of meetings. There was no word on the Sokovia Accords yet. But you, and everyone else in the Compound, knew that the backing from the Eastern European ambassadors would be enough to get things moving toward an actual ruling.

“Stark.”

Both you and Tony look up as Hill enters the space.

Her commanding tone is such a scathing shift from the woman you helped in the hospital two years ago, that she’s almost impossible to recognize. A glance over your shoulder shows Natasha shifting to subtly crouch in front of Wanda as Clint stands up, arms crossed as he looms directly behind the teen.

“Was wondering where you’d wandered off to.”

“Big compound,” he quirks, tone flat.

She gives him a look that clearly says that she’s all too aware of the fact that he’s been likely avoiding her.

“So, any word on Rogers?” she questions, her gaze shifting from the billionaire to land firmly on you.

Maybe this version of the agent had always been there and you had just been too blinded to notice. Perhaps you could see the faint traces of her calculating demeanor when she admonished you at the Tower after fumbling the handling of the Abomination. Maybe you just had to be this cold and shut off to work in such a landscape.

“Sorry, co-director. No such luck,” Tony grins.

Crossing her arms, she stares down at the man beside you.

“And those calculations and algorithms you said you were running day and night? Even they can’t find him or Wilson?”

“Hey, convenience of modern-day technology, am I right?” Tony smacks his hand down on Hill’s shoulder, pushing past her.

“Well,” she turns on her heel, following the billionaire out of the room, “Maybe I should send down one of my techs to go over your computations.”

As their conversation and footsteps fade further down the hallway, it’s Clint who lets out a low whistle.

“Christ, who shoved a stick up her ass?”

“Hush,” Natasha reprimands, voice clipped and bitter.

Fidgeting with your hands, you finally swivel around and drop back to the floor. Sparring a glance down the hall before you decide to make your way toward the stairs.

But it’s the rather sudden and sharp - ow - that makes you freeze.

Looking back at the trio, your gaze immediately falls to Natasha’s pinched brow.

“Hey!” she barks, shoving at Wanda, “Get out!”

You’re on the teen in a flash, gripping her by the shoulders as you pull her back - her eyes fading from a misted red to their normal dark hue.

“What was that?” you question, directly in her face. “We’ve talked about this. No going into other people’s heads!”

Wanda spits, head lulling back as she peers up at you, “She knows where he is.”

Clint has a hand on Natasha’s shoulder, but she brushes him off as she shakily stands up.

“Is that true?”

Your voice is barely more than a whisper.

“Seriously?” she quips, avoiding your eye.

As your hands drop from Wanda’s arms, you swivel on your toe - turning to face the assassin as you stand up to your full height.

“Natalia.”

It takes a beat, barely more than a breath, before her piercing green eyes land on your face - heated and desperate.

“I don’t know where Steve is, Seven.”

“Liar,” Wanda chortles, shaking her head as she haphazardly moves from the floor to sit on the couch behind her.

“I don’t,” Natasha emphasizes for you. “I just… know where he might want to go.”

“How the hell do you know that?” Clint questions.

“Fuck, you’re just as bad as Hill,” she shakes her head. “He might have… texted me yesterday asking for an assist.”

“And you…” the archer prompts, arms crossed and eyes furious.

“And, I didn’t give him anything. I’m not halfway across the world, in case you didn’t notice - ” she pushes sharply at Barton’s chest - green and blue still-wet nail polish squishing together on the fingers of her right hand.

“He’s not even in the country,” you fumble to grasp with a shake of your own head. “He just… left.”

“Look,” she sighs, seeming to take pity on you – though why, you don’t know. “This whole situation has got him worried about… his past. Very important things from his past.”

You immediately catch her meaning.

“And, he’s sort of hyperfocused on that right now. Hell if I know why, he didn’t bother to say.”

“But he went to you,” you surmise.

Perhaps that was the thing that stung most of all.

For all of the closeness the team purported the two of you had, in the moment where he needed help, it hadn’t been you he had contacted. It had been Natasha. And yes, they had worked together at SHIELD and during the first initial year hunting down Bucky. But you two were…

Well, you weren’t entirely sure what you two were most of the time. There was no word for it in either English or Greek or Old Latin that perfectly encapsulated the relationship you shared with the supersoldier.

Profound. Important. Lasting. Trusting.

Incomprehensible to those around you.

You both had grown since your first meeting five years ago. Your lives had twisted together like the branches of a grapevine. Intertwining so deeply; so tightly, there was no separating one from the other.

At least, you thought you understood the scope of your relationship. Perhaps your silence in the matter several days ago had been too much for even Steve to bear. He was a man of swift action in the face of injustice - or what he believed to be an injustice. While you were more… calculated in your actions.

“Yes,” Natasha states, releasing a breath from her pale lips.

With a nod, you merely say, “Of course,” before you give a regarding look to the other two.

You can hear the calling of your name as you head down the stairs to your quarters. But no one bothers to follow after you. You almost prefer it. Almost.

“Come on, tell me you got something,” Tony grits, the faceplate shooting up on his suit as his feet make contact with the sidewalk.

Natasha flashes him an irritated glance as she furiously swipes, “Give me a break, alright? This is old-school construction; the walls are actually insulated.”

“Give me that,” he snaps, grabbing the device from her hands – nearly dropping it as the suit’s fingers are far more bulky than his own.

As you had been leaning against the dory for a moment, watching the two needlessly bicker with Pallas resting on your shoulder, you swipe the device from Tony.

“Hey! I was using that!”

Offering him only a side-eye, you quickly triangulate the device to sync up with Clint’s hearing aids. Handing the small electronic over to Nat, you answer, “Seventeenth floor, one window, four guards, and Sarkissian.”

Tony, squinting upward against the afternoon sun; likely calculating where exactly the room would be, nods a quick, “Good work, Double O.”

The operatives you had captured in the Las Vegas fight hadn’t exactly been very forthcoming with their information. No one wanted to be the rat on an expansive operation, of course. But, apparently, one of them had managed to become a little more talkative after another round with one of the SHIELD interrogators.

Ophelia Sarkissian was a name that had been looming in the background ever since Strucker’s prison break.

Stark had spent the day running every possible program to try and find her. And to, admittedly, get Hill off his back for an afternoon. Which had led your four-man team to this pseudo-business in the Bronx. Cronus only knows how long their operation had been running here without arousing any suspicious inquiries. A single upscale beauty boutique in a thirty-two-floor building; really?

From the moment you had landed on the street, there had been resistance. Clint was hit with something – venom, possibly - and dragged away while you had been fighting off the electrically charged attacks from the escapee who had evaded you all back in the desert. You had savored a moment of triumph when the Aegis collided with his jaw and sent him reeling backward into temporary unconsciousness.

Noting the growing crowd on the opposite sidewalk and adjoining streets, phones out and at the ready, Tony drops the faceplate back into place.

“I’m open to options here.”

But Natasha silences him with a shush, “I think I’m picking up something.”

There’s a bit of static over the broadcast, all coming in from Clint’s aids, but you’re able to make out the monologue perfectly.

“You’re destroying this country, Mr. Barton. You don’t mean to, of course. You think you’re helping with your coddling little welfare state. Your constant demand for equality. Whatever happened to exceptionalism? Whatever happened to rewarding hard work? Instead, we punish success. Case in point -”

Through Sarkissian’s accented and twisted swirl of words, you can hear the frustrated and almost bored groans from Clint. They must have something covering his mouth, but you can still hear the muffled sarcastic comebacks he tries to convey.

“Today’s businesses face unfair regulation at the hands of an overreaching government. Where the hell in the Constitution did anyone promise the masses clean air, anyway? Sounds like a free market demand for filtration systems and gas masks.”

“They just love to hear themselves talk, don’t they?” You ponder, tiredly glancing over at Natasha.

“Unlike anyone else we know, anyway,” she surmises, looking pointedly up at Iron Man.

The optical lenses blink in golden LED light as Tony tilts his head, “Not sounding like a plan yet, Romanoff.”

She just grins like a lazy cat in a stretch of sunlight, “I thought it was obvious.”

It takes a second, but then Tony is soaring upward – dust and debris billowing up in his wake.

“Men,” she sighs with a roll of her eyes before looping her arm through yours.

Sarkissian’s voice echoes through the speaker still, “The most important lesson in what drives the whole process is fear . Once you figure out what a person is afraid of, you’ve found a way to sell them something.”

In a flash, the sidewalk below your feet disappears and a darkened industrial room appears.

“I personally can’t wait ‘til we’re back to selling wars -”

Iron Man crashes through the window.

As the monologuer turns around, Natasha dips away from you, throwing widow bites in quick succession – taking out two guards. Before she can even bear her teeth or whip out a blade, you pull Sarkissian in with your spear, trapping her by the neck; drawing her in close.

The threat of Tony’s blasters is enough to keep the last remaining stooge from making any sudden moves, giving Nat the chance to untie Clint from the single chair sitting in the room. So typical, it was almost sad.

“OW! ” He grunts when she rips the duct tape from his mouth, “ Fucking , Jesus. Not even a goddamn warning.”

But she’s not paying attention to his complaints as she pats his checks. Even from a distance, you can see his eyelids drooping and his mouth curving downward.

“Check her, Seven!”

With one hand holding the spear steady, you dig through the woman’s pockets – ignoring her annoyed little heys and buy me dinner first – before finally wrapping your fingers around a small vial.

The contents are a soft blue, cloudy, and very untrustworthy based on appearance alone. You chuck it Tony’s way, giving him the chance to analyze it.

By the time Clint’s up and on his feet again – arm draped over Nat’s shoulders for support, the news vans have already appeared on the street below. Hill also sent a few prisoner transports along, having a team dragging the various guards out one by one.

Leading Sarkissian out with a single hand grasping her wrists together behind her back, you avert your gaze from the flashes of cameras and the calls of eager reporters.

The SHIELD agent who you meet up with clasps a pair of heavy cuffs over the woman’s hands, making them fully encased. You watch as she’s pushed into the back of one of the vans, mouth sealed shut of her own accord.

“That’s right. Single-handly, we have shut down a serious threat to this beautiful community.”

The doors slam in your face as you spin around – catching Tony excitedly gesticulating in front of a team of news cameras.

Slipping back to stand beside Natasha and Clint, you watch in a mixture of slight awe and horror as Tony spins the tale of the great battle that had occured just moments before. How a dangerous criminal mastermind was now set to live out the rest of her days behind bars. He waves to the crowd, blowing out a kiss to a random bystander across the street before ultimately returning to the team.

“Hear that?” he grins, “That’s the sound of people starting to believe in superheroes again.”

Turning to wave at the people once more – now being met with shouts and calls for more questions - you slide close to the billionaire, voice meant for his ears alone.

“Will you still be superheroes after all of this, Tony? Won’t you just be SHIELD agents when you’re all on the federal payroll?”

“Well,” he cranes his head to the side.

After a beat, he grabs your arm by the elbow and forces your hand into a little wave. A group of people standing in front of the pizza place scream out in joy.

“We’re a good distraction if anything,” he gleams.

Glancing back at the others, your worried expression is met with equally concerned gazes.

Hill is surprisingly smiley when you return to the Compound. Nat and Clint brush her off – wanting nothing more than to get the archer properly checked out in medical, just in case that antivenom didn’t work its way through his system properly – but Tony meanders about, talking up a storm with her.

You slip past, watching the strange occurrence take place with an uneasy swish in your stomach.

The twins are nowhere to be seen when you first enter the main living space – nor is Vision. The swirl of your godly wardrobe disappears in a halo of warm golden light as the now-familiar comfort of human attire appears once again on your body.

Wringing your hands together, actually unsure of what to do with the post-fight energy still curiously wriggling itself through your body, a sensible chuckle meets your ears.

Tony, down to his jeans and Metallica shirt, wanders in, shaking his head.

“Is that what I think it is?”

You follow his amused gaze down to the soft baby blue cuff of your sleeve. It takes a second before you begin to frantically pull the hoodie off your shoulders, eyes wide in horror; too stunned to even manage a single word from your panicked lips.

“Hey, hey - ” he steps forward, easing a hand down before you can entirely divest yourself of the garment. Steve’s garment. Cronus, how the hell did it even appear on your anyway? “- it’s cool. Fitting, really.”

Your chest relaxes as a sigh pushes its way past your lips. Slowly, you pull the sleeves back up, pulling the soft fleece closer to your body. From the hem of the hood, you can just pick up the familiar musk of Steve’s aftershave.

“Anyway,” Tony spares one final look at the piece of clothing, “I had FRIDAY working through those records we nabbed?”

He expectantly waits for understanding to hit you. When you nod in remembrance, he continues, “Turns out, this little group had a ton of off-shore bank accounts. And a bunch of messages to a Mister E.”

A shock of laughter bubbles out from Tony as he slaps a hand over his own mouth in awe.

“Oh, that’s brilliant. Mister E .. Mystery. Get it? God, wish I thought of that myself before.”

Changing gears before you can even pinch your brows – ready to admonish him for regaling his pre-Iron Man war-profiteering era – he intercepts:

“Anyway, I’ve got FRIDAY on the trail and she’ll figure out who their figurehead is in no time. In other news... job well done. Yay, Avengers.”

A smile creeps to your lips as Tony gently bats his hand against your arm, “Go, relax or whatever the hell it is you do in your off time. The knowledge that a large criminal organization is currently off the streets should be a reward in itself today.”

Not even bothering to see what choice you make, Tony saunters off down the hall toward the meeting rooms, whistling a jaunty tune to himself. It could be a Disney song or a bad rendition of “Back in Black”, you’re not really sure.

On your way to your quarters, you spy the twins in the small kitchenette. Wanda’s sitting up on the counter and Pietro’s spinning around on the floor laughing; truly laughing. Not wanting to interrupt their moment of possible happiness, you scoot past them to your own room.

Flipping the light switch, your quarters come to life.

Still as plain and immaculately clean as you had left it.

Kicking your shoes off near the door, you shuffle your way across the pale pink carpet before your knees hit the edge of the bedframe and you turn around. Dropping down on the bed, your hair halos out behind you. The mattress sags pleasantly under your weight as you breathe out a long sigh.

After a moment of pure silence, staring up at the tiny specks that make up faux constellations on the ceiling, your thumb begins to rub at the cuff of the hoodie’s sleeve.

Eventually, you draw in the open front to your nose – inhaling that warm smell once again. How exactly Steve’s clothing had disappeared from his room only to appear on your body was still a complete mystery to you. This had never happened before in the history of, well, your entire existence, frankly.

The aftershave is a woody scent, embedded into the owner’s clothing. Taking short sniffs, you can just make out the patchouli and cedar. Somewhere in there is the barest hint of clove. It reminds you of the soft mossy floor of your sister’s forest. The woods always held an earthy smell to them, especially on Olympus. Artemis’ realm seemed enhance the simple scent of the outdoors to be even more pleasing to the senses. But this fragrance, curled into the fabric of Steve’s hoodie, is something of its own making.

The only downside of it, actually, is the fact that it makes the ache of Steve’s absence even stronger.

Where you would usually turn to the supersoldier in the aftermath of a battle, there was no one. When you would plan out a fight, it was always with Steve. Even just now, passing the twins, you were reminded of the person missing at your side. The person who had helped you, for months, aid in the recovery of the two mutants.

It felt like a betrayal. You knew it wasn’t, and even more-so, you knew you shouldn’t be thinking alongside that line of troubling thoughts. But it ultimately did, deep down in your chest. That bitter little vein throbbing next to your heart seemed to scream out – traitor. Which was nothing close to the truth of the matter at all.

Steve had left to quell an argument before it reached a disastrous level – Tony had a way of bringing that out in people; particularly Steve. He was just cooling off. That was all. Looking for James Barnes was just a distraction point in the matter, surely.

Curling onto your side, you pull the fabric even closer to you, silently wishing that whatever wrongs that had transpired between him and the team could be undone so that Steve would return to the Compound at last. So he could return to... you.

Wrapped in the warmth of fleece, and with the featherlight pillow beneath your head, the aftermath of the fight finally pulls at your body – dragging you down into a light, dreamless sleep.

But it is broken all too easily, an hour later, by the sharp trilling of a buzzing cell phone on the nightstand beside you.

Through bleary eyes, you see an unknown number flash across the screen. You already know, however; deep down, that pulsing artery in your heart, you already know who it is. Flicking the phone open, you ask in an immediate rush of breathlessness:

“Are you okay?”

The distant flutter of a chuckle greets your ears as you sag back down.

“I’m okay,” Steve replies.

He’s okay. He’s okay. Steve’s okay.

But with that immediate sense of relief, you find yourself having to steady a breath. Trying to hold back the sudden swath of anger that wants to break free – you jerk. Where does he get off ignoring you, all of you, for days on end, just to call you out of nowhere and act like everything’s just fine?

Biting it back, your fingers dig into palm – feel that, that’s real. Those thoughts? That anger. That’s just a distraction.

“Where are you?”

“Out of my depth,” he snorts.

“Cronus, Rogers,” you sigh, raking your hand over your head.

“’Thena... I need your help. A favor, honestly.” His voice cracks on the final sound of your name.

From that alone, you know he doesn’t really want to be asking for this. Which must mean he desperately needs whatever help he can get.

“Anything,” you respond in kind.

There’s a beat of silence that passes between the two of you. In the distance, you can make out the honk of a car horn, the rustle of a breeze, the whispers from who you assume to be Sam.

“I need to find Bucky ... before Ross does. I, I know the Accords aren’t signed into law yet, but the SRA... it’s going to be voted on any day now, and I don’t want anything to happen to him while we just sit here. He’s been through too much on my account already.”

The words sink in slowly at first before the full scope of the threat resting above James Barnes hits you like a flash of lightning.

“I can send Pallas,” you suggest. “Actually, you should have just used the card and called me to you.”

Steve huffs a broken laugh, “Thought about that, honestly. Just, didn’t seem safe.”

“Okay,” you murmur, thinking over your options.

This was likely what he had contacted Natasha about. And if she couldn’t help... well, there was always Tony. But then again, that was probably one of the last people Steve would willing to go to for help right now. Especially with this.

“I... I might have something. But it’s back on Olympus.”

“Okay,” he eases.

A smile curls on your lips, “It will only take me a minute of your time.”

You can picture the way his features relax when he hears your answer, a grateful, “Thank you,” is pressed across the line. Followed shortly by a soft admission:

“I miss you, you know.”

For a moment, you try to picture him. Eyes soft but lidded, lips pressed to the receiver so Sam won’t hear, that easy smile he reserves only for you and you alone.

Your fingers loop around one of the strings on his hoodie, tugging aimlessly at it for a moment before you respond, “It’s only been three days, Steve.”

There’s a pause, a breath of space between two places, but still connected by that always present invisible force that connects you to him and him to you.

“I think that’s been three days too many, honestly,” comes the husky reply.

You linger there on the line, just listening to the sound of his gentle breaths. If you closed your eyes, which you won’t, and if you imagined for just a moment – which you didn’t dare – you could almost see him laying just in front of you on the bed, staring down at you with an expression that would make his sea blue eyes nearly black in the low light of your room.

“Just... give me a minute,” you murmur, placing the phone down on your pillow.

Steve gives a hum of acknowledgment. And then you’re gone. In a sparkling burst of golden light.

The building is just a street away from the main hub of the city. Where, if you were looking for peace and quiet, you would be in the wrong part of town. The traffic isn’t nearly as bad here though, but the noise does travel well past the boundaries of the Soviet apartment block.

“I thought we were going for a stealthy approach with this one. Instead, you’re going in like a walking billboard for the Avengers.”

Taking the stairs, Steve peers down the first corridor before answering Sam, “We don’t know what state of mind he might be in. Better safe than sorry.”

The strap of the shield digs into his fingers as he pulls it tight to his side.

This was really going to be their last chance to find Bucky and get him out of here. If anyone was going to take the fall for this, it would be Steve in his full Captain America regalia. Not Sam. Sam, who he had sent to the roof to keep an eye on the skies and neighboring buildings. Sam, with no uniform, who had strict instructions to make a break for it the minute things got nasty. If things got nasty. Which, God, he hoped they wouldn’t.

It’s three more floors of worn concrete stairs before the crackle of Sam’s voice breaks over the comms once again.

“What exactly was it that your girl did?”

In the hotel, Steve had remained largely vague about your role in this mission. Sharon had provided the city for them, but not the address. Even that was out of her jurisdiction.

“She had a...” a man steps out of his apartment, takes one look at Steve, and slowly backs his way back inside. Two locks slide closed.

He’s not insulted, in all actuality. Considering if the roles were reversed and he, all ninety some pounds of pre-serum Rogers, had seen a costumed renegade outside of his door. Yeah, he’d likely lock up and snooker down.

“A scyring pool, I think. It was something that allowed her to see whatever it was she was seeking? It’s not really my realm.”

Taking a look up at the final set of stairs, Steve grasps the shaky metal railing and begins the ascent. He had been tracking the door numbers this entire time. 607 had to be up here.

“What, and she just... had this magical thing th e whole time we were looking for cold, dark, and gloomy?”

That wasn’t something Steve particularly wanted to think about, in all honesty. In fact, he had resigned the notion to the back of his mind for the time being.

603, 604, 605, 606...

The last door is entirely unordinary. Just like the others.

Placing his head against the wood, he can’t immediately detect any movement from inside. Still, he knocks. Bracing himself for the moment his friend opens the door and sees him. God, what the hell will he even think? Will he even listen, or is this going to be like the helicarrier all over again?

A minute passes, and Steve still doesn’t hear any sounds of a gun cocking or glass breaking.

Ramming his shoulder into the door, it gives way almost instantly. Distantly, he wonders if it was even locked to begin with.

While the overhead lights are on above a single table and the small kitchen counter, the windows themselves are covered up – barely allowing a trickle of sunlight through the pasted newsprint. Steve treks in slowly, watching the floor for any traps as he takes in the abhorrent state of the single room.

The walls, once covered in green paint, are flicked down to the concrete, with splashes of dangling wallpaper only near the kitchen. There’s a lingering smell as well, possibly coming from the raggedy couch or... the lone mattress on the floor.

Jesus, Buck.

“He’s not here,” he speaks into the comm, turning in a slow circle – sweeping the room for any sign that his friend might still be somewhere in the shell of HYDRA’s weapon.

There’s a stack of newspapers on the dining table. When he flips over the most recent stack, there’s a picture of the explosion on Wall Street. The headline says something in a language Steve can’t read, but he knows what the article likely says.

Atentat la New York. Eficiența Răzbunătorilor în discuție.

Unable to look at the burning remains of the charter school for a moment more, he flips the page back down.

Moving toward the kitchenette, under a stack of protein bars, Steve spots it. A simple black notebook with a few red tabs sticking out of it. His curiosity peaked, he can’t help but pull it out.

The first page is blank, but on the second, he’s met with a picture of himself. A pamphlet from the Smithsonian exhibit, actually. On the adjoining page, a scribble of thoughts bursts out from the paper.

Captain America.

Captain Rogers Steve. Steve Rogers.

New York. New York City, apartment. One room. No windows. There’s a bed with a hole in the mattress and a chestdrawerbox

Whatever train of thought that had hit the writer, was quickly jotted out in a furious scratch of ink.

Hesitantly, Steve flips through the pages. Spotting bubbles of thought with facial sketches of himself. In uniform, and without. A smaller, skinnier version of a boy – a smile, but no upper facial features to be found; like the full image never came to mind.

And then there’s a change. From drawings of Steve and blurry New York skylines, comes a flurry of images of a sleek woman – curled hair and a smokey fixture over her face. If Steve had to acquaint it with anyone he knew, he would say the woman of Bucky’s fixation looked a lot like Natasha, but in a more classic noir style than anything else.

Two more pages follow the drawings, filled with news clippings and headlines.

One more page and Steve’s finger pauses on the page.

There. In perfect recreation is you.

A full face of details, unafforded to the other sketches. But amongst the premade lines of the notebook, your likeness comes to life. Steve gazes into your pencil-made eyes, the hint of a smile about to burst on your lips. Your hair is hidden behind a plain veil fluttering in an invisible wind. Below your neck, Steve’s eyes follow the detailing of a Red Cross nurse’s uniform fizzle out into the page.

Why is it, he wonders, that the sketches of himself and the mystery woman remain faceless, while this rendering of you is a near replica of the real person?

Something heavy sits on the page behind the drawing. Following temptation, he flips it over. Another series of article clippings, of you and the team. In your flowing white Olympian armor, eyes blazoned in the moment of battle.

Another, there with Steve, helping him out from a pile of rubble. His hand aches with the distant ghost of your touch.

“Put it down.”

Steve spins around, smacking the notebook closed. Silently chastising himself for not hearing the man’s approach.

Bucky, eyes wide and sweeping, adds a trembling, “Please.”

Steve, holding one hand up, places the book back down on the counter. Trying to show in any way he can manage that he is no threat to James Barnes.

And then he just stares, unable to help himself as he takes in his friend’s shambled appearance.

“Do you know me?”

Bucky blinks, glancing between Steve and the notebook resting on the counter behind him.

“You’re Steve. I read about you in a museum.”

In his heart, he believes that isn’t the truth. The few words he spotted in that book are indicator enough, but he eases forward a step.

“I don’t want you to be nervous. But I know you have every reason to be.”

Bucky takes a step away, right hand curling into a fist. Left hand... tucked away into his pocket.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“We’re here to help you, Buck,” Steve soft pleads, pulling the helmet from his head. Let him see. Let him connect the pieces to the man standing in front of him.

“We?” he questions, glancing toward the window beside him with the stained ivory curtain swaying.

He really should think before he opens his mouth sometimes.

“A friend,” Steve amends.

Keeping his distance, Bucky begins to circle away from him, heading toward the dining table.

“You should’ve left me alone,” he murmurs.

Easing his hands onto his belt, Steve lays it out, “They know where you are. They’ve been tracking you for weeks.”

There’s a skittish look that crosses his friend’s features. A wild animal pacing a cage of their own making, expecting the hounds to break through in the next breath.

“We want to help. Buck...” he crosses the distance between them, grasping hold of Bucky’s right forearm. “Let us help you get out of here.”

Before he can form a response, Sam’s voice crackles in his ear, “There’s someone up here. I’ m compromised.”

Blocking the quick series of fists that come swinging at your face, you try to land a solid punch to the lower torso, but your target disappears.

“Hey!” you chastise, spinning around – managing to grab Pietro’s hand before he can fully connect it with your shoulder. “I thought the sparring rule was no using your speed?”

“That ,” he grins, pulling back, “was Captain Roger’s rule. You, my friend, never established such terms before we began.”

Smart bastard.

Offering him an exasperated huff, you hold up your hands, “Well, let’s say that we’ve now established it as such.”

In Steve’s absence, and with Pietro seemingly coming out of his shell in the past few days, you had offered to take over temporary training with the teen. Your time had largely been spent working with Wanda as you had been deemed the sturdiest candidate when it came to tolerating her untrained magic.

Pietro, without his speed as a factor point, had spent more time with Steve and Sam than anyone else. And, you had to hand it to the pair, they had taught him well.

“Alright, let’s get back in your ready position,” you begin, changing his focus back to the sparring session.

But before you can begin, both of your attentions are drawn to the exasperated scream that trails down the hallway outside of the gym doors, followed by Wanda’s screech of:

“Unbelievable! Bastardi!”

A blur of flowing black fabric and dark red hair goes blazing past.

Sparing Pietro a single look, you give him the nod that allows him to jump over the ropes and race out of the gym.

Resting on the swaying rope, sweat dripping down the curve of your back, you just shake your head. You weren’t sure if you even wanted to know what terrible news had unfolded in your temporary absence away from the TV.

The gym door swishes open as an awkward Tony Stark works his way over to you. His posture is too rigid, hands stuffed into his pockets, and a nervous sort of look sits in his eyes.

“What happened?” you ask, voice exhausted – not by the training session, but by the weight of the extenuating circumstances that had been plaguing the team for weeks at this point.

He glances around, rocking on the balls of his feet, “Did half of Paramore happen to storm past?”

Pulling away from the ropes, you drop down on the mat and slide your way to the floor, standing before the billionaire and offering him an incredulous, “Who?”

“The Wunderkinds.”

“Yeah, Wanda just... she went by a second ago. Why, what happened?”

You’re already anticipating the worst when Tony pulls out his phone. Likely news headlines conjure themselves up in your head. But, instead, you’re met with a photo.

Iron Man. In mid-flight. Faceplate up, but sunglasses resting on the lower curve of his nose. And... was that a smoothie?

As the phone is dropped into your hands, you scroll down ever-so-slightly.

@tonystark: Hey SnapTap, am I doing this right? #avengersinthewild #youknowwhoiam

“It’s brilliant, right?” he beams, snatching the phone back.

But you just blink, still trying to assess where the hell Tony’s mind went.

“That’s a word for it, sure. Why exactly are you jumping on this track after the whole no social media spiel you made Steve give Wanda the other day?”

Tony scoffs, looking almost offended by the question.

“You know, with everything that’s happened. With two pieces of legislation at our goddamn doorstep, I’m trying to do whatever the hell I can still do to try and change this clusterfuck of a narrative.”

Right. The grandstanding during yesterday’s operation. One hand on the wheel. Let the bills pass, but keep hold of the public’s opinion.

“I mean,” Tony shrugs, thumbing through his phone for a moment. “If the media wants the people to fear us; to plant unnecessary panic, then I figure we just show the world that we’re just like them. Relatable and all that. Kickass, but still approachable. Someone you’d want to pay a few thousand to hang out with for a day.”

Cronus, no wonder Wanda was furious – having to remove everything under the guise of security and privacy, only to have Tony turn around and do this overnight.

“Here,” the phone is directed back your way, a notes app opened up to a show a series of jotted-down names. “I already saved some handles for you guys.”

Your eyes scan over the list of proposed names:

@realathena

@hawkinthenest

@capattack

@assgardian

Disgust riddles its way through your body and you can only manage a shake of the head as you push the phone back Tony’s way.

“Come on, Seven,” Tony pleads in a tired tone, rubbing a hand at his face. “Look, you get the chance to come and go, right? This world ain’t working out for you, you can probably go off and find a new one. But this? This is our one and only world. And personally, I don’t want to see everyone have to give up their ability to fight or to hang up their suit. I’m telling you, every little bit helps.”

In his bleary eyes, you find only honest truth. And, knowing Tony, you are aware that he’s gone down every possible avenue – every scenario – to keep the team together, to keep their powers in their own hands.

And, give hell or high water, despite Ross and the entire weight of the American government, you knew Tony would do whatever was in his power to keep things as well off as he could manage.

“I... I’ll think about it, okay?” you offer, mentally hopscotching your way out of it entirely.

“Hey, that’s all I ask,” he beams. “We can do a little photo op. My treat. I’m thinking, you with your armor, or you and your little owl guy. People love a celebrity with a pet.”

Cronus, help her.

Nodding your head, you begin to back your way toward the practice ring, “Definitely something to think about, yes.”

Tony, grinning like the sly fox he thinks he is, just tuts in a knowing tone. As if to say, he would break you down, slowly, with much annoyance and pestering.

But then that smile begins to drift south; a true frown now resting on his face.

“What,” you question. “Have you already lost followers?”

He quirks a brow, “I’m one of the fastest-growing accounts, thank you very much. FRI? Can you get this on the big screen?”

You follow the question to the ceiling where the omnipresent AI lived (in your mind, anyway), before landing on the large TV pressed up above the row of five treadmills.

The same two reporters who have been covering the House vote and the updates from the U.N. are familiar to you now. And, where you expect to see some grand announcement of a bill passage or another righteous official ready to spout off for the microphone -

Your heart drops. A deep ache fills your stomach as you press your palms to your throbbing chest.

The reporter’s words are but a ringing in your ears as you watch Steve, in full uniform, pushed to his knees by a man in a military uniform bearing the American flag. Behind him, Sam’s being pushed and pulled by three other men – his flight pack nearly ripped from his body in such a way that you fear his shoulder has been dislocated in their carelessness. And then the camera – taken by an amateur reporter, clearly – lands on -

“Oh my, God,” you utter.

James is lying flat out on the ground, with a soldier pushing their full weight down upon his back as another handcuffs his hands behind him. He’s grunting, blood trickling down from a cut on his temple as he shudders and fights to breathe.

“Tony,” you urge – too many questions and demands to make them come out in a proper sentence. But he knows.

Dragging a hand down his face, he just shakes his head, “So much fucking ground to make up.”

“Anthony,” you bark, eyes blazing as you watch the live feed of the three men being loaded up into the back of an armored vehicle by armed and ready soldiers.

“I...” he just sighs, long and heavy, as if he had taken over for Atlas temporarily. “Uhm, shit. I’ll try and see which lawyers I can wrangle back. Who the fuck knows what can legally be done right now. I don’t even... Jesus, Seven. I don’t even know what to tell you.”

His eyes are soft and sincere as he manages out a choked, “Sorry,” before he pushes past the gym doors and takes to the stairs.

Left there, alone in the aftermath, your focus drifts back on the screen where the Secretary of State – fucking Ross - begins a press briefing.

“Today, a specialized team of American service members successfully captured a rouge party of dangerous super-powered individuals. At this time, Steve Rogers is no longer a threat to this nation or the country at large. And tonight, may the world sleep easier to know that known Russian terrorist, James Barnes, also known by his moni k er: t he Winter Soldier, has been taken to a high-security location until further notice. As long as we allow these individuals to roam freely, they will be a threat to you and your family. Today, justice prevailed.”

That night, unable to pull yourself away from the TV in the living room, you watch alongside Tony – who’s glued to his phone, trying to type out a series of favors to his last few lawyers – and Vision, as the Sokovia Accords emergency legislation is passed through the United Nations. Natasha, eyes unblinking, gazes at the screen as the anchors - after the U.N. coverage ends, announce that the SRA is up for a vote later tonight.

Somewhere, over the span of the ocean, your teammates – your friends – are being flown back to the States like wanted criminals. Strapped down, collared, heavily guarded.

Beside you, the remainder of your team, silently watches their lives begin to unfurl. And you, Goddess of Wisdom, have no solutions for them. No options. Nothing.

You’re helpless to save any of them.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

[jbaileyfansite]

Interview with W Magazine (2024)

Jonathan Bailey has traveled the world to promote Wicked, but there was one person he was especially eager to share the film with: his 94-year-old grandmother. She nurtured his love for musical theater and encouraged him to pursue ballet as a child, thus shaping his career in the arts.

So, the day after Wicked came out in the U.K., Bailey hosted a private screening at a local cinema for four generations of his family. While sitting in between his nana (who had painted her nails green for the occasion) and his mom and dad, Bailey became overcome with emotion.

“It’s a miraculous thing to know that what it came down to is having parents who let me go to the local village hall, and a grandparent who let me play, dance around and sing, and be free at such a young age,” Bailey tells W. “If you can catch a passion and just ring-fence it at such a young age, you never know what it can amount to.”

Adapted from the iconic Broadway stage musical, the film, which is set before the events of 1939’s The Wizard of Oz, chronicles the friendship between Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo), the future Wicked Witch of the West, and her classmate Galinda (Ariana Grande), later known as Glinda the Good.

Bailey’s scene-stealing portrayal of Fiyero Tigelaar, the charismatic Crown Prince of Winkie Country, only reaffirms his status as a Hollywood triple threat. In fact, “Dancing Through Life,” the earworm that serves as his character’s introduction at Shiz University, just cracked Billboard’s Hot 100 charts this week. (“That’s amazing. Do I get a certificate? What happens now?” Bailey quips.)

Bailey began rehearsing for Wicked in 2022 while shooting Fellow Travelers, the groundbreaking Showtime limited series that earned the 36-year-old his first Emmy nomination, and the third season of Bridgerton, the smash-hit Netflix romantic drama that made him a household name. Speaking on a video call from London in early December, the British star reveals that he is in the middle of reprising his role as Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, who is expecting his first child with wife Kate Sharma (Simone Ashley).

“There’s such an important relationship with the [Bridgerton] bros that has been developed over the series. Season four is going to be Luke [Thompson] and Yerin [Ha] being absolutely extraordinary, and there’s a whole plethora of new characters coming in,” Bailey says. “It’s so nice to come back, and it’s about celebrating the romance stories we’ve had and digging into the ones that are starting.”

Patience will have to be a virtue for Wicked and Bridgerton fans alike; the second half of the former, which Bailey coyly describes as “rich, bruising and hopeful,” will premiere next November, while the latter will debut in 2026.

How did you think about building your own interpretation of Fiyero?

The starting point was “Dancing Through Life.” He creates chaos around him, like he does in that song, because he’s got to match the chaos that’s going on inside. The challenge that I felt was the trope of a cool caddish prince. He’s deeply unnerved by stillness and adhering to rules and structure. That is probably a sign of someone who’s never really experienced love. When you see someone causing that sort of disturbance, it’s usually because they’ve never felt seen. An organizational psychologist, Adam Grant, sent me a message saying, “It’s a masterful portrayal of superficiality masking depth.” Out of all the things I’ve heard, that is the thing I’m going to get printed on a T-shirt.

The Shiz library scene was inspired by the work of Fred Astaire in Royal Wedding. What did you want to convey in those moments?

Fiyero has to come in and change the physical language and the emotional landscape of that school in one number. His fluidity, ease, and elasticity speak to his ability to maneuver and avoid. He’s quite avoidant. He has these bright, shining moments with everyone but never really allows the other person to land it with him. For those who understand the physical language of Fiyero, there are many Easter eggs and nods to what happens to him later in the story.

Fiyero is at the center of a love triangle between Elphaba and Galinda. What do you think he sees in each of them?

The brilliant thing about the film is that these slightly trivial tropes mask extraordinarily deep and shifting understandings of social experiences. The superficiality, the privilege, and the sense of easy chemistry make sense with Glinda. But I feel like he’s yearning for something more, and, as Elphaba sees, he’s unhappy and depressed. Fiyero and Elphaba can click in terms of the way they sing, dance, and move together. Elphaba has a calming presence on Fiyero and allows him to be himself. It’s a real privilege to meet someone who sees you for who you really are.

Are there any songs from the second Wicked movie you are most excited about?

“No Good Deed”—I cannot wait to see that come together. And “Thank Goodness”—it’s just such an incredibly operatic, Wagnerian opening. We know how brilliant the girls are, and I’m so excited to see the tonal shift that will inevitably happen to get to the end of the story.

You’ve been leveraging the success of projects with massive, global appeal (Bridgerton, Wicked, the next Jurassic World) to return to the theater (like your next role in Richard II).How have you been balancing these big tentpole franchises with projects that feel more niche and intimate?

I always lead with joy, and I’ve never accepted a job cynically. It goes back to this instinct—it feels like romance—where you have butterflies in your stomach and clarity of thought. I go back to the stage because I want to get better—and I want to be the best I can be. The best performances I’ve ever given on screen have been directly after coming off stage, where you hone your craft every single night. It’s brilliant, joyful, academic, and exhausting.

I’ve read more scripts in the last four years than probably in 20 years of working. It’s amazing to get sent scripts that you’re like, “This is absolutely brilliant. It’s not quite right for me, but I wonder if I can help that get made.” I’ve got a producer's hat that’s been popped on a few times in the last year, and I’m sure it’ll be coming out to play soon.

I want to keep working until something like Fellow Travelers isn’t seen as niche. We’re only on this planet for a short time, but if Fellow Travelers can be a mainstream show by the time I’ve finished my innings, I’d be very happy.

The last time Bridgerton viewers saw Anthony and Kate, they were on their way to India to meet with Kate’s family. Now that those characters are married, what are some of the new layers you’ve found in their relationship?

Anthony and Kate are these two planets that have always been in orbit of each other, and they finally come together. But then, what is life beyond [their courtship]? What’s so interesting about Anthony and what I so enjoyed in his season one arc is his relationship with duty and the power that he wielded over Daphne and his family, the isolation that he felt, and the anger that ensues because of [the passing of] his father.

I always said that you want Anthony to smile, and he does with Kate; he’s found his soulmate. In season three, they have that playfulness and, for the first time, they disregard anything that’s going on around them. They were the heart of every bit of drama and complication and, my God, how dramatic it was! Now suddenly, they’re having the time of their life, getting to play games again. They’re having a baby—everything they’ve ever wanted. What’s brilliant is to see how there are elements of yourself that you can’t grow out of. So, maybe, we’ll see hints of Anthony from season one.

Source

[imaginesbymonika]

From the dining table | Part 5

Pairing: Damon Albarn × Gallagher! Reader

Plot: Everyone's favorite topic during the '90s and 'OOs; Y/N Gallagher. The mysterious and beautiful younger sister of the two loud brothers rarely spoke during interviews but played the guitar like no one else. And even though she never said a word about her dating-life, the list of her rumored boyfriends kept growing longer with each passing year. Yet, there was one name in particular that just kept on popping up...

Read Part 4 | Masterlist

(1996)

Damon, who is sitting on a fancy-looking leopard print couch crosses his legs. A half-done cigarette is dangling loosely between his index and middle finger.

“So.”, the young MTV interviewer says and lowers her flashcards:” Y/N Gallagher.” Damon wrinkles his forehead and peeks at her through his long lashes:” Is that supposed to be a question?” She giggles:” Maybe. How do you feel about her?”

“About that Oasis bird?”, he asks, tilting his head in fake innocence. The brunette nods. “Well, for once she’s much nicer than her brothers.”, the men around him all chuckle.

“There’s a rumor that you two have been seeing each other for quite a while now.“

“We‘re not.”, he answers, maybe a bit too fast. He hopes no one caught it:” We only chattered once at an award show, a few years ago. She’s their coolest band-member.” At least he’s not lying about everything.

(2024)

Y/N steps into the kitchen to put on the kettle, a soft sigh leaves her lips while she hears how her two dogs follow her:” Where do you live now?” “Davon.”, Damon sits down on her sofa, and his eyes drift through one oversized window towards the sea. It has started to rain, and large raindrops are smashing against the glass.

“What’s that? A 2 hours drive?“

“3 and a half.”, he quickly corrects her, his gaze not leaving the stunning nature. ”Right.”, She slowly makes her way over to him before setting a green mug on the glass table in front of him. It has a picture of herself and one of her nephews on it:” Don’t you have a house in Iceland as well?” At that his eyes widen and finally move to meet hers:” How do you know that?”

“I’ve heard the album.”

He slowly nods and watches how she sits down on the armchair only a few meters away from him. ” You listen to my music?” “You came to talk?”

“Yeah, about that song.”, he explains and leans back, eyes leaving her form for the sea one more time. God, this view is extraordinary.

“What song?”, Y/N asks and it makes him scoff. She knows exactly what song he's talking about. Does she think he’s a fool? “Is it over now.”, he replies. “What about it?”, she’s doing it on purpose, he can sense it. “People think it’s about me. Is it?” the question leaves his lips before he can even think about it. She stares at him before taking a deep breath, a phony chuckle leaves her:” You can’t just ask me something like that.”

“Why not?” “Why not? Because-.”, she stares at him and blinks a few times:” Well, some people assume 13 is about me as well. If I were to ask you, if-.”

“It is.”, he cuts her off, the casualty of it bringing goosebumps to Y/N’s skin.

She stares at him in silence.

“Of course it’s about you, Y/N.”, he says like if it’s public knowledge, something that everyone should be aware of:” I mean, come on. All of it is about you.”

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles - Update 12/January/2024

Hi there everyone, Nai here - hope you all had an amazing New Year!

Unfortunately, Mishka has got the flu!! Which is such a shame as we've had an amazing start to the year on Wayhaven!

We've had such cool idea meetings and getting back into the swing of Book 4, and we managed to smash out social media days and yearly plans and we can't wait to share everything we've got planned with you!

Hope you all have the most magical weekend! We’ll be offline as usual, so Mishka will update you all again next Friday!

[kindestofkings]

dear john

elijah hewson x singer!reader

(ex!charles leclerc cause hes a hot red flag)

plot: its giving friends to strangers to friends again to lovers 🫶🏼

face claim: laufey <3

warning: spelling mistakes

authors note: this is for the lovely anon who requested a speak now inspired smau ! Hope this is okay?!? I was tempted by doing something on the vibe of speak now the song but imma think on it 🫡

yourusername

liked by charlesleclerc and others

yourusername wow last night on tour was something special 😢 to everyone who sangs my songs back to me and everyone who's supported my little dreams, I LOVE YOU.

view all other comments

lucydacus killing it !

yourusername luv you <333

phoebebridgers voice of an ANGEL

yourusername ooh stop im blushinggg

charlesleclerc beautiful as always mon ange

ynfan1 post concert blues are toooo real

wagsandstuff

liked by ynfan1 and others

wagsandstuff huh that doesn't look like yourusername to us.... did the couple of 3 years break up without telling us??

view all comments

ynfan1 nooooooo that girl on twitter was right ah

ynandcharlesshipper charlessss man don't do this

charlesfan she was always feeding off of him

ynfan2 she has her own career you do know that right? she a really popular singer

ynfan2 not charles cheating on our QUEEN

yourusername just unfollowed charlesleclerc

yourusername just added to their story!

lol gonna go heal my heart I guess lol

replies:

yourmum awh my beautiful girl :( glad you're coming home 💘

↳ can't wait to see you mam

yourbestfriend men are literal pigs.

phoebebridgers he's an idiot, here for you if you need anything

elijahhewson hey I know it's been awhile since we last spoke, but the lads and I are always here for you. I should've been better at keeping in touch, but I'm so sorry this happened to you.

↳ hey E, missed you! I'm just as much at fault, guess we all just got so busy with tours (both so successful heheh). where abouts in the world are you? I'm heading home for awhie maybe we could all catch up?

↳ elijahhewson deadly! myself, ryan and josh are home and bobby is back next week, call around whenever

inhalerfanaccount

liked by inhalerfan1 and others

inhalerfanaccount did you guys know that yourusername is friends with inhaler??? I found all of these oldies while lurking her insta !

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inhalerfan1 bless they're so young, they all must of been friends during school !

inhalerfan2 crazy to think they've all become so successful

ynfan1 wow my two worlds colliding

ynfan2 I've always secretly hoped yn and eli would get together

inhalerfanaccount friends to strangers to friends to lovers hits soooo hard

yourusername

liked by bobbyskeetz and others

yourusername time is a terrifying thing..

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yourmam I could probably find an even earlier pic...

bobbyskeetz I beg please no inhalerfan1 pleaseeeeee

elijahhewson smash x4

joshjenkinson_ the gang getting back together has 2024 winninggg

(liked by yourusername,ryanmcmahon_15 and others)

ynfan1 yesss bitch remind that silly boy who drives in circles of all the hot friends you have !!!

(liked by elijahhewson and others) ynfan2 hahahah eli woke up and choose chaos

yourusername

liked by phoebebridgers and others

yourusername turning all this heartbreak into something good ! dear john is the rawest I've ever been in my songwriting, treat her with love x

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ynfan1 so so incredibly beautiful, thank you for sharing

lucydarcus you're a wonder

ryanmcmahon_15 sobbing uncontrollably and ready to fight him

bobbyskeetz you good bro ?

charlesfan1 tough day to be a charles fan

ynfan2 omg those lyrics are HEARTBREAKING

inhalerfanupdates

liked by eliswife and others

inhalerfanupdates WHO HAS THIS MAN SO SMILEY???

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inhalerfan1 FOR REAL?? hes usually so moody

elijahhewson posted to their close friends!

replies yourusername pure stalker when did you take this pic??

vogue

liked by yourusername and others

vogue with just days before the release of her highly anticipated spohmore album we chatted to yourusername about love, loss and all things in between;

" you dont realise how easy love can be until you're with the right person. its the most annoying thing to hear when you dont have it but some how I was fortunite enough to discover"

find out what else the singer told us at the link in our bio !

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yourusername THANK YOU FOR HAVING ME

ynfan1 shes so happy and in love

ynfan2 how can one person be so talented, smart AND intelligent

charlesfan1 eww cant believe charles used to date her!

ynfan3 love how shes not petty like the leclerc fangirlies clearly still are..

yourusername

liked by elijahhewson and others

yourusername a year and a half ago I had my heartbroken, felt completed untethered and so so confused. today I give you my pride and joy!

this album features songs I wrote as a sobbing mess, some I wrote while I was healing and finally some I wrote after I opened my eyes and embraced what I had all along.

I love them all, I love everyone who worked on it with me and I escially love you.

comments have been restricted

yourusername

liked by lucydarcus and others

yourusername one single thread of gold tied me to you <3

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elijahhewson hell was the journey

yourusername but it brought me heaven. bobbyskeetz gross yourusername child

joshjenkinson_ my parents

yourmam my favourite pair !

evehewson sobbing it was always meant to be

phoebebridgers the sweetest love for the sweetest soul

(liked by elijahhewson and yourusername)

ynfan1 OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG

finished

authors note: ahh im a broken record with the friends from home trope but its my favourite 🥲 hope you all enjoy, please as always let me know what you think!!

[smubbles-etc]

Wanksgiving authors revealed!

Thanks to everyone who participated in what has been our biggest ever Smubbles by an absolutely whopping margin! The grand total at the time of reveals is...

655 fanworks, in 303 fandoms!!!

Ironically we're struggling for words to describe how awesome that is...! Over 200 of those fandoms were brand new to the Smubbles parent collection - we absolutely smashed past 300 fandoms, and also surpassed 2,500 total Smubbles fanworks 🎉🎉🎉

It was especially wonderful to see people saying this was their first time joining a writing event, or that it helped them write again for the first time in years, or be less self-conscious about writing. Drabbles can definitely be liberating like that!

If you still have ideas you didn't quite get around to writing, the collection will remain open indefinitely as always, so feel free to keep dropping new things in. Or save them for a later Smubbles event - our next one will be around Christmas 2024 (exact dates TBD).

And to those of you who spent the end of November stuck at awkward family gatherings, we hope you found something entertaining to read!

[aziraphales-library]

Hellooo, thank you so much for everything you're doing for this fandom <3

I was wondering if you know any fics that are exes with benefits or enemies with benefits?

Thank you so much!!!

Hi! You can check our #enemies to lovers tag for more fics like this. Here are some more to add to the collection...

smash your competition, baby by KissMyAsthma (E)

Aziraphale and Crowley compete for the title of their country’s representative for the Eurovision Song Contest 2024. Being rivals seems to only heat up the atmosphere between them, and when the excitement and adrenaline after their performances take over, they work off some of their post-performance high together.

On the Way Home From Rome by Caedmon (E)

Aziraphale is on the way home from Rome, looking forward to crawling into his own bed in London, when he meets an attractive - and maddening - man.

…and your enemies closer by UnproblematicMe (E)

Crowley is glad the world doesn't end. But it gets boring sometimes and the only immortal beings on Earth besides him are now the Antichrist and the annoying emissary of Heaven who has been a thorn in Crowley's side from the beginning.

Bare Knuckles, Rose Thorns, and Split Grape Skins by midnightxink (E)

The year is 1880. The Wild West is in full swing. A slick, chaos-wielding demon runs from the Law, jumps from town to town dealing in crime. Only, the Law catches up with him in the form of one hard-tack, no nonsense angelic bounty hunter. Their subsequent journey reveals much about the workings of an institution that they both stake claims to, and each other.

Intermezzo by FeralTuxedo (E)

Music critic Aziraphale Fell is trying to break into the world of television, when he is signed to make a documentary about former-rockstar-turned-composer Anthony Crowley. It’s been eleven years since Aziraphale’s disastrous review of Crowley’s debut opera nipped his classical music career in the bud. He can only hope that Crowley will get over his admittedly justified grudge to make the TV show a success. A classical music sex comedy. Yes, really.

Fifty-Two Blue by bendycello (E)

It would be a gross understatement to say that Crowley simply didn't like Aziraphale. He was posh and stuffy and arrogant, and Crowley couldn't figure out why everyone else in the program liked him so much. It hardly mattered; they were competitors, and Crowley didn't need to make friends to become a surgeon. It takes several unleasant encounters, the excessive use of house plants as a coping mechanism, and getting stuck in an elevator for Crowley to start reconsidering his priorities. Or... Crowley and Aziraphale are surgical interns with competitive streaks a mile wide each, and they really do not like each other at all. Until they do.

- Mod D

[fizzingwizard]

Why I like Cats (the musical) 2024 version

Cats the Musical's smash success in the 80s stunned everyone, including those who made it. But despite the critics claiming it's baffling and has no plot, it was popular anyway. And remained popular. For years.

"But why?" shriek the naysayers even now, decades later, in broad daylight, because they've never met a real Cats fan, and frankly don't believe they exist, and the massive audiences of yore which attended the shows in London, New York, Tokyo etc were paid actors contributing to the farce that is Cats the Musical. Or maybe they assume every furry dutifully attends every performance of Cats as some kind of furry confirmation ritual.

Now that we've seen the Hooperian nightmare that is Cats 2019, internationally recognized as a pre-pandemic harbinger of doom and torment, making fun of Cats is more fun than ever.

But no pedantic Youtube critic will ever pry Cats (THE MUSICAL) out of my fierce, feline clutches! No! I won't let you! Not even you, Tom Hooper! You don't need opposable thumbs to be irrationally devoted to old-ass musicals from the 80s!

Anyway here's why I like Cats (the musical)!

Wicked whimsical fun times!!

Cats is the fun uncle at the family New Year's party. He's young, he's confusingly hot-yet-not, he gets around, he always smells faintly of weed. He's down for anything and somehow gives off chill vibes while also exuding the barely restrained energy of an ostrich mating dance. He doesn't have a job. No one knows what he does on a regular, non-party day. Maybe he just... ceases to exist. You like him, without knowing or caring whether there's anything about him to like.

A celebration of dance!!

Tap, jazz modern ballet, gymnastics! There's even a trapeze! Cats has it all... as long as it was popular among white audiences in the 80s, anyway. Attempts to diversify have been hit and miss. But since many of the dance styles have fallen out of popularity, it's refreshing, in a way, to go to a Cats show and see a guy in an orange unitard tap dancing passionately. Like teleporting into a bygone age of the catpeople. Heck, even in the clusterfuck that was the 2019 movie, Skimbleshanks stole the show.

Jokes aside, the loose story structure isn't just because no one on staff knew how to plot anything, it highlights the performances themselves: dance and music are central to Cats, which is part of why making a film version is so damn hard. You can't just say no thanks to the choreography or interrupt the songs for dumb bratty quips (Hooper!!). That's what this musical is.

Yes, they are cats, and it's cool, not freaky. (But also freaky)

The costumes and makeup are for a stage show. They're overdone on purpose to have an impact from far away. It's due to that distance that the actors can seem pleasantly cat-like without appearing like they're doing this under hypnosis. That's another reason why translating Cats to a live action movie is kinda doomed to fail. With movies you're too up close. Welcome to the Uncanny Valley, hope you survive your stay!

The costumes are also very 80s. They have changed... but not all that much. If you know glam metal and punk rock then you probably cotton on to the references and why a lot of the old pictures look like a hair band's photo shoots. Young fans may not be aware of those roots and just accept the wigs and the color schemes and the setting as a whim. But the truth is undeniable. The 80s live on!

Much of the dance is choreographed to reflect feline, seemless movement. The actors spend their down time on stage mimicking relaxed cat behaviors, including the cute and clumsy ones that made Youtube rich. But they don't forget that they are actually humans any more than the audience does, or that getting too into it would be pretty weird. How well it works for you probably has a lot to do with whether or not you like Cats the musical. It's not supposed to be realistic or freaky. Just evocative and atmospheric.

Except the orgy. That simply Is. Sex through ballet. In unitards.

The stage!

The stage is a huge draw for seeing Cats live. There's so much detail and fun things to spot. It's a junkyard! Cats pop out of the strangest places! Honestly it's so impressive that it makes the way Old Deut magically reappears under a blanket rather more noticeably lackluster... (I did really enjoy the way the Broadway revival revamped that bit with the dark and the hand-held light dance)

You've seen it once, you've seen it twice, you still haven't seen it

The legend of Cats is that no two performances are the same. You can go to the same theater with the same cast night after night and spot subtle changes. Because the characters aren't that important overall, there aren't real relationships to interrupt by letting someone be friends with someone else in one show, and ignore each other in another. The most fun comes with watching the actors not currently center stage, who can do whatever they want. They're always moving, darting here and there, interacting with each other in an unobstrusive way. It's like a treasure hunt to work out whch cats are friends, which are rivals, who has a crush on who, heck, who's a grown cat and who's still a kitten, depending on the performance. I love this pliable approach, it gives the play a sense of living and changing.

Electric guitar!!!

Like, it's par for the course these days. Nothing unusual. Even so, I always lose my shit at that electric guitar!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There IS a story!! There is!!

It's just not the most important part. Or even the second most important. Possibly not even the third most... yeah.

One thing worth noting is that the vibe of the musical has changed a lot of over the years. Most versions in the US and UK still retain some of the original grungy, gritty, patchwork aesthetic. A lot of it has been cleaned up and polished. The Japanese version (the only non-English version I've seen live) is almost like a Disney story imo. But thanks to the costumes, characters, and stage setting, it feels less like the 80s have gone than the 80s have been reinterpreted into modern preferences. I really enjoyed the 2016 Broadway revival for example, although I know some fans didn't.

All that to say the story which we fans have more or less pieced together ourselves has evolved over the years, and isn't super official. But it is regular. Hooper's movie doesn't get credit for giving Cats a plot, it already had one, just told in a not especially coherent way. That incoherence, despite being panned by everyone and especially their dog, I think is one of the best parts of Cats. You get to leave the show feeling like you missed nothing, then see it again and notice something new, and then leave feeling like you missed nothing. Rinse and repeat. The perfect show =)

Now about that plot.

The Jellicle Cats assemble once a year to have an orgy a ball. They're so happy to see each other and they just have so much to catch up, plus the kittens only opened their eyes like last week so they need a whole run-down of who all these older guys are. We meet the maternal cat, the storyteller cat, the railway cat, the twin thief cats, the excitable cat, the magical cat, the Jagger cat. They're all kind of sort of in competition to win a new life (cats have nine you know) by being chosen to go to the Heavyside Layer. Not that they compete - they all just want, vaguely, with a sort of existential soul-deep yearning for something too ineffable to define. This contrast of the transient with the permanent, the fleeting with the eternal, is introduced early in the show, when the cats tell us they have two names: a name they're called by on a daily basis, and a secret name that is wholly and uniquely their own. These themes continue throughout scenes of the actors grooming each other's fur and panting in bisexual lust due to sexy Tugger's sexy hip thrusts. It's deep bro. Gets me right here, bro.

Meanwhile there's an outcast called Macavity who is Bad, but most of the sightings of him are false alarms. He doesn't show up properly till near the end of the second act and there's a whole cat fight, it's awesome, I love picking out which cats stay to fight and which run away. He abducts Old Deut, the patriarch, and the only chance the cats have to get him back is Mister Mistoffelees, who depending on the performance is kind of clumsy and insecure, or really effing amazeballs at magic. I prefer the first because it makes more sense why Rum Tum Tugger sings his song for him (old versions have Mister Mistoffelees singing at least part of his song). Then Old Deut's back and now it's time for the Heavyside Layer!

Meanwhile meanwhile, there's Grizabella, who is haunting the Jellicle Ball with much more tangible yearning. She's washed up, a has-been. She can't dance anymore. No one trusts her. Why? Idk, people are just like that. The other cats fear Macavity, who represents destruction and chaos, but they look down on Grizabella, who is failure and regret and mortality. For whom all the broken dreams could be forgotten if she could join just one more dance. Defeating Macavity isn't the Jellicles ultimate test - accepting Grizabella is.

ETA: I feel like I didn't quite get across why this is so important. The show spends so much time building up our dread of Macavity, but sightings of Grizabella leave us feeling wrong-footed and uncomfortable. And the reason is: Macavity is destruction, but Grizabella is destroyed. A grizzled beauty - someone with no more life left in them. She's a vision of a grim future which the Jellicles want to reject. She's been made small and weak and pathetic. So they blame her for her situation, because then they can go on with their ball without all that discomfort. And they don't just decide to redeem her in the end - first, Grizabella has to sing "Memory." Grizabella needs to tell the Jellicles "There was a time before I experienced destruction too, when I didn't know how happy I was." The only thing which keeps that spark in her alive is the memory of it, and it's that which makes her the chosen candidate to go the Heavyside Layer. A threat like Macavity, while very scary, is mortal and temporary. But Grizabella's ability to look back on her life and find the happiness in it, and reach out to the others while on death's door, despite the risk of harsh rejection, speaks to something eternal. And the Jellicles have a choice whether they will show acceptance for that full course of life.

Then up she goes via the Stairway to Heaven and who knows what happens to her after that. Idgaf really, ask the Everlasting Cat. And then we sing a song about how great cats are because it's true. I mean come on. Shakespeare would write this.

Um wait up... plot holes???

Wait - why did Macavity kidnap Old Deut in the first place though? This is pretty unexplored backstory. Generally fans assume Macavity torments the Jellicles on the regular, and that he did something to Demeter in the past, which is why she's often depicted as the most skittish when he's mentioned. He's a bad egg - his song details enough - and also he's got his paws in the community, thanks to Griddlebone and Mungojerrie.

OK, so not knowing what his motivation is, as well as not knowing why Mungojerrie, who is fairly lovable despite being a thief, is involved with him, is kind of a big plot hole. It'd be nice to know that right? It'd be nice to know what happened to Grizabella - did she leave the Jellicles by choice, did she shun and reject them before she went off on her own? What did these characters do leading up to the events of the show?

This is what defines the True Cats Fan. The True Cats Fan not only doesn't know the official answers to these questions (there aren't any, shut up Hooper), but PREFERS them that way. Number one, it turns the show into a single evening suspended in time. We are voyeurs - guests come to witness the holy day of the catpeople. We are foreigners. We don't understand everything we see because we are not one of them. "What's a Jellicle Cat?" The cats are stunned that we don't know, but can't explain it to us in full either. A Jellicle Cat doesn't need it explain. They always know. So the story is what it is, you know what you know, and what you don't, well, it's not inconsequential, but it is for tomorrow. And tomorrow isn't today, that's the thing.

Number two is that the True Cats Fan doesn't want these questions answered because... we'd rather answer them ourselves!

LAST. The fan lore rocks!

Cats is just so much fun to fan girl in. Because the canon is so whatever, we can come up with our own ideas about backstory and relationships, and when we go to the next show, it's gleeful fun to see what elements of pure director's whim support our fan theories. If you're not interested in headcanons or fan theories you can leave now, here's your certificate, now you know what Cats fans love about the musical Cats. If you're a true freak, read on!

A lot of these are influenced by the 1998 DVD because that was the most accessible way to watch Cats (the musical). But the best ones have roots in any show canon, or extrapolate from like, a single lyric. Making sense of the nonsense without committing to getting rid of the nonsense, because we love nonsense. Also these DON'T all go together, they are independent headcanons, otherwise some of them would be really Not Good hahaha.

OK, so Old Deut is everyone'd dad. BUT, he's particularly dad of Munkustrap, Macavity, and Rum Tum Tugger. Sometimes in that order, sometimes not. This is hilarious to me. I love the idea that Munk and Tugger are brothers and that's why they drive each other batty. And who doesn't love a secret third brother who is als evil, or prodigal son who kidnaps his own father?

Demeter was Macavity's girlfriend before he got kicked out, or sometimes she went with him and came back once she realized he lost his marbles. She's been traumatized by him and that trauma is even choreographed or her. There's behind the scenes video, I think it's from the 1998 DVD, where they explain that, so it's rather more than a theory. She often has a role in the fight scene - an actual fighting role, rather than a cowering one. Now Demeter is Munkustrap's mate, which, if you accept the "Munkustrap/Tugger/Macavity are brothers" theory, makes for all kinds of juicy drama.

Victoria is Plato's girlfriend. Victoria is Mistoffelees's sister. Victoria is Mistoffelees's girlfriend. Victoria is Munkustrap's girlfriend??? Take your pick lol.

Victoria can't speak and/or is deaf and that's why she communicates through dancing.

Demeter and Bombalurina are sisters

Sillabub/Jemima is Munkustrap's daughter (ok...).

Munkustrap is the Jellicle leader of sorts. Old Deut is the real leader, but he's old y'know. And Munkustrap is kinda sorta his son. But Munk doesn't do a lot of leaderly things. He disciplines sometimes and controls the kittens, and he fights in the battle scene. But mostly he sings songs and tells stories. So there's a headcanon that Munk has reservations about being Old Deut's successor and wishes he could just tell stories all the time. So wholesome...

Rum Tum Tugger is a bi disaster and Mister Mistoffelees is his twink boyfriend. Gay cats, they're gay, it's theater, it's a show about cats with a cat orgy, did you really expect different? Now although I make fun I am into it. Tugger, brash and vain yet insecure, and Mistoffelees, insecure with inner pride. In some shows older cats like Skimbleshanks and Gus will be shown trying to lead Mistoffelees away from Rum Tum Tugger during his song, as if concerned by their promising, talented young friend's interest in the local Bad Boy. Mistoffelees's real talent humbles Tugger, and Tugger's audaciousness enables Mistoffelees to take risks. Thus the day is saved! Tugger and Mistoffelees weren't always a set on stage - it could be Mistoffelees and Munkustrap as the two leads, or why Tugger sings Mistoffelees's song would just go without explanation. But these days it's a popular enough duo that it's become fairly regular. And the 2016 actors put Tugger/Misto fan art on the wall in their dressing room therefore it is Canon.

Skimbleshanks and Jennyanydots are a couple, inspired by the way he teases her during the Gumbie Cat song

Skimbleshanks is a DILF

Grizabella was Old Deut's girlfriend x'D or is Macavity's mother or something. Personally I don't need this theory lol we've already got enough overlapping relationships to write twelve soap operas so.

Cats with collars are house cats, cats without are strays. Not super reliable but fun to think about.

Some cats aren't named, or have different names depending on the country or decade. These cats can have some really, really dedicated fans whose personal headcanons about these completely undeveloped characters are ironclad.

Asparagus and Gus are father and son. This is to explain why the actor who plays Asparagus is always around, and called Gus/Asparagus, and then for Theater Cat and Growltiger he seems much older but is still called Gus. It's the same actor in slightly different costumes but fans just pretend there's two characters to explain it.

Same thing with Admetus/Plato, who doubles as Macavity in the 1998 DVD, and in many stage performances as well. Macavity is Plato's evil alter ego, but he's in love with Victoria so he doesn't want anyone to know. Or he's not even aware that he is Macavity. A Jekyll and Hyde sort of deal.

Mistoffelees is Macavity's son and that's why he can do magic. (Ergo why Macavity can make Old Deut disappear and Mistoffelees can make him reappear).

Alonzo was Munkustrap's gay fling in college so to speak. Or Alonzo is Munkustrap's half-brother

Coricopat and Tantomile are psychic twins (almost canon) and coach Sillabub/Jemima because she sings really pretty when she's in a trance and seems to Know Ineffable Stuff. In fanfics they're often depicted as not liking Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, which is kinda funny because I guess I would have thought twins on twins would have been The Thing, lol.

Griddlebone was Gus's wife and sometimes Jellylorum's mom. She's evil, independently of Macavity, but also in cahoots with him because song lyrics. ETA: Also that she's Grizabella when she was young!

There's a cat just called George who everyone loves. He's an ensemble cat with no particulars. Love George. Worship George.

Look there's like ninety seven thousand characters in Cats (the Musical) and three times as many headcanons. I'm leaving a lot out but I can't remember any more right now and I gotta go make dinner.

[hotasfahrenheit]

i just finished the Love For Love's Sake finale and like

just wow

this show has smashed the bar for 2024 through the roof and into the clouds in less than two weeks by dropping eight episodes on us so fast they might as well have been repeated lightning strikes straight to the heart. they're insane for releasing all of the episodes so fast but also i am so glad i don't have to stress over waiting while this show could have been released over two months.

wtf where do we even go from here tho????

good thing this is The Year Of The Vampire Gays because how do you even follow this show, it was SO GOOD THE ENTIRE TIME and is instantly going to be one of my favourites forever.

i really hope it does great numbers wise and everyone in this cast gets to do more projects because every one of them was absolutely perfect.