#there’s very little still tying me to North America

[flowachild]

I am honestly just happier in the Caribbean Idk why I willingly chose to return to North America

[lonelyreputation]

Caught

A/N:  Hello hello! Here’s some (more) fluff!! Who am I? But anyway, I wrote this from this sensory request and it was actually the first request I GOT ON THIS BLOG (!!!) so I'm so sorry that it’s coming so late!! But I’ll always remember this request bc it was the first🥺 

Anywaayyyy thank you all so much for reading, sending me the nicest messages, reblog-ing, and requesting prompts!! I get so much motivation from you all it’s insane!! Thank you!! I appreciate every single one of you!!

PROMPT: Licking your fingers while eating Cheetos

Chat Chat Chat | MASTERLIST

Warnings: One (1) swear word & a bit of a heated make out session😶

Word Count: 3.9K

Being a twenty-year-old and playing sold out shows in stadiums around the world was abnormal.  But what was more abnormal was that the twenty-year-old who spent most of his time on a tour bus than in his own apartment was your boyfriend.  Not many people could say that their boyfriend was in Amsterdam one day and then Paris the next.  

Shawn had spent spring in Europe on a tourbus and hotel rooms, and his summer wasn’t much different, except for the fact that he was on his North American leg of the tour.  He had convinced you to come traveling across America; it was more in your budget and convenient with your university schedule.

Every now and then, Shawn would have some down time, but it wasn’t very often.  He kept apologizing whenever he was pulled away and promised to spend time with you more.  But you didn’t mind.  Shawn had given you a front seat to his career and everything it entails.  And it was fascinating.  You would be in one city and everyone would already be advancing for a show that was two weeks away.  The precision and detail of obscure jobs that some crew had gone over your head in the past, but seeing all the mechanics of everything that goes on for the show to happen…it made you appreciate Shawn’s performances even more.

You had gotten fairly close with Shawn’s head of tour merchandiser, Dane, and often found yourself helping him set up the merchandise stands when Shawn was off at a meet and greet, sound check, or wherever Andrew had pulled him away to.  

“Are you playing in the little soccer match they have going on later today?” You asked Dane as you carried over a large brown cardboard box. 

He held up a finger to you as he finished up his count in of tour posters and typed it on a tour merchandise app on his phone, “Yeah, you?”

You shook your head as you used a key to tear through the sealed box.  Once the tape that held the box together was ripped, you opened the four flaps and saw that you were counting in some sweatshirts.  Silently, you counted ten sweatshirts, put them in a pile on the side with a sticky note on top with a number ten circled and then counted out another ten sweatshirts. 

“I’ve never been good with hand eye coordination,” you didn’t look up at him as you continued to count ten sweatshirts, “I’ve always been better at cheering people on from the sides.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed.”

You had just finished circling a ten on a neon green sticky note as you capped the sharpie and looked at Dane, “You’ve noticed?”

Dane nodded with a smile on his face as he hung up a piece of paper with a blown up image of a keychain; he stuck a large sticker with the price of the keychain on the corner of the paper.  He hung it up on the black tapestry so that way fans would be able to see it before they got up to the front of the merchandise line.

“You’re always there for Shawn when he walks on and off stage.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen you go to the bathroom when he’s performing.”

You blushed as you finished counting the last of the sweatshirts in the box you carried in, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“He loves it,” Dane took a t-shirt and clipped the sleeves of it to the top of the tapestry, “The week before you came he literally wouldn’t shut up––Y/n’s coming next week, did you know?  I just love her so much!  I miss her so much!”

You bunched up a t-shirt and threw it at Dane as he miserably failed at impersonating Shawn’s voice, “He didn’t say that.”

“Ask him yourself.”

“Oh, I––“

“Ask who yourself?”

You spun your head around and came face to face with your boyfriend.  You smiled at him and threw another balled up shirt at Dane.

“Hey!  That’s merchandise we’re selling tonight!”

You waved Dane off and rested your hands on your hips, “Before I came on tour were you non-stop going around telling people I was coming and saying how much you love me and saying how much you missed me?”

Shawn still had a slight smile on his face as he gazed at you.  His facial expression hadn’t changed since he walked up behind you, so you thought you had proved Dane wrong, but that wasn’t the case when Shawn spoke up.

He shrugged his shoulders, “Yeah, why?” He spoke as if it that information was public knowledge.

Before you had the chance to say anything, you felt a soft material collide with the back of your head.  Your head slightly jerked forward from the contact of the t-shirt that was just thrown at you.  You quickly picked the shirt off the dusty ground and glared at Dane, “This is merchandise that you’re selling tonight.”

Dane barked out a laugh as he finished setting up the merchandise display.  He stood back and admired his work for a few seconds before informing Shawn he was going to check on the other stands and make sure everyone else on the merchandise team had completed their count in.  They did some sort of bro handshake, before telling one another that they’d see each other shortly for the soccer game.

Shawn walked up to your side and threw an arm over your shoulder.  You leaned your head back on his shoulder and looked up at him, “Excited for the match?”

“Yeah, just wish you were playing.”  

Your eyes closed as Shawn lightly traced circles on your upper arm with the tips of his fingers.  Shivers ran down your spine as you closed your eyes, “You’ve seen me play.”

Shawn let out a laugh as he started walking, guiding you around the main floor of the arena, “Even though it is probably a good idea that you’re not playing, it still would’ve been fun to be on the same team.”

You let out a snort as you snaked a hand around his back to pinch his hip.  Shawn lightly jerked away from you before he tickled your shoulder in retaliation, “I’d make sure we’d be on separate teams.”

“Is that so?”

You hummed in response and let the conversation die down.  Whenever a crew member passed, you offered a smile and Shawn greeted them by name.  Seeing the dynamic he had with his crew was heartwarming because you had read of horror stories of main acts being absolute divas to their crew members.

Shawn led you backstage as the two of you wandered into his dressing room.  You sat on the couch as he went over to a little duffle bag he packed just for the soccer game.  Carefully, you watched him as he bent over, staring at how his shoulder blades could be seen through his white t-shirt as he rummaged through the bag.  

Swiftly, he tore his white shirt off and you were graced with a second of seeing your boyfriend’s muscles.  The sight didn’t last long because Shawn threw his t-shirt at your face.  You scrunched your nose up at the slightly sweaty smell mixed in with his signature scent. 

“Hey!”

It only took you a second to throw the shirt off your face, but it was a second too long because Shawn was already in a vintage t-shirt and sliding on a pair of athletic shorts up past his thighs.

“That’s not fair,” you whined.

Shawn threw his head back in laughter as he picked up his sneakers.  He walked over to where you sat on the couch, picked up your legs without any hesitation, and as he sat down on the couch, he rested your calves on his thighs.

He hunched over your legs as you watched him slide his sneakers on and tie them up. The position couldn’t have been comfortable, but he managed to get his sneakers on without complaining for you to move your legs.  And you weren’t complaining about the physical contact your legs had with his thighs.

Once he was done tying his shoes, he sat up and stretched his back, a few pops emitted from his body and you flinched, not liking the sounds of bones cracking together.

Shawn rested his hands on your knees as he leaned his head on top of the couch cushion, eyes closed he said, “I don’t wanna play.”

A small chuckle left your lips, “That’s a lie.”

He turned his head slightly towards you and opened one eye, “Yeah, I do wanna play,” he let out a sigh, “but sitting here with you is so nice.”

A loud laugh escaped your lips as you looked over at him, both of his eyes now opened and intently staring at you with adoration.

“We’re literally doing nothing.”

“As long as I’m with you,” he lifted his shoulders up in a shrug, “I don’t care what we’re doing.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.  Truth is, you loved doing nothing with him.  You savored the days when all Shawn wanted to do was spend all day tangled in your bedsheets.  You adored the days when you would sit on your couch reading a book––in a similar position to how you were sitting now––and Shawn would be hunched over scribbling lyrics down in a journal, using your legs as a writing surface.

You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Too sweet.”

“Uh huh,” Shawn grumbled as he pointed to his lips with his index finger, “I want a real kiss.”

You pretended to think about it for a moment before swinging a leg over his lap, adjusting your knees on either side as you straddled him.  Shawn’s hands instantly moved with your body as they landed on your waist.  Unlike your hands that were pressed flat on his chest, Shawn’s hands slowly rubbed your lower back and come back around to your waist.

The only thing more heavenly than his touch was the feeling of his kiss.

Shawn craned his neck up to reach your teasing smile and captured your lips in a sweet kiss.  Your smile was slow to disappear; being in Shawn’s presence was a reason for you to  smile in itself, but once he pinched your hips silently telling you to focus on kissing him, you thought that was a good enough reason to stop smiling.

Your hands trailed up Shawn’s chest until they rounded his neck.  He hummed as he pulled you closer to his chest and your fingers began to play with the small curls on the nape of his neck.  He tilted his head to deepen the kiss at the same time his hands tightly balled up the bottom of your shirt.  He lifted your shirt at a painstakingly slow pace to the point where you wanted to rip it off yourself.

Shawn had the shirt bunched up right under your bra.  Breaking the kiss, you leaned back, untangled your arms from around his neck and raised them over your head to aid Shawn in taking your shirt off.  Once the shirt was off, he carelessly threw it somewhere behind you, and without any hesitation, Shawn reattached his lips to yours as you felt a magnetic pull bring you closer to him.

His calloused fingertips were hot on your bare skin as they danced around.  

Just as you lowered your body to grind against his, a loud single knock, followed by a Shawn, caused both of your heads to snap toward the door.  Shawn practically threw you off him as he looked for your shirt––for anything––to cover up your exposed chest.  

You were leaning back against the arm rest of the couch, trying to calm down your erratic breathing, as you watched Shawn’s eyes widened as the door handle rattled.  It looked as if Shawn threw every ounce of common sense out the window as he threw a pillow that hit you in the face.

You clutched the pillow in your hands as you briefly looked down at it, and then back to Shawn, realizing what he wanted you to do with it, “I’m not––“

“Use it, Y/n––“

“Shawn!”

Your harsh whispers were cut off when Dane walked carelessly into the room.  The pillow was still limp in your hands; in shock that Dane came into the room with little announcement.  Shawn took notice of your chest still out for Dane to see––if he hadn’t seen it already––and with panicked eyes, he flung himself from the other end of the couch to lay on top of you.

You let out an oof as you felt Shawn’s full body weight collapsed on you; the pillow nestled between your stomachs.  You had never complained about Shawn being on top of you, but with this position, the arm of the couch was digging into your back and you and causing you to cramp up.  

“Shawn,” Dane said his name again as he continued to walk further into the dressing room, “Are you gonna come and warm up? The game starts in–––Oh.”

You tried to peak over Shawn’s shoulder to gauge Dane’s facial expression, but with the way Shawn was pressed up against you, you couldn’t see him.  But from the suggestive tone of his voice, you knew that teasing would be soon to follow.

“Am I interrupting something?”

You squeaked out a not at all as Shawn let out a frustrated of fucking course.

You smacked Shawn’s back with his hand at his crude response.

Dane let out a bellowing laugh, “How ya feeling down there, y/n?”  You heard his footsteps come closer and your hands clutched the fabric of Shawn’s shirt out of nervousness, “This is pure gold.  Andrew has said that he’s never caught you two in the middle of doing something––I, of course, called total bull on that––and I’m so happy to have caught you two.”

“Dane,” You said as you drug out the vowels in his name.

His laughter rumbled through the room.  Even though Dane was the person you were closest to on Shawn’s crew, it was still embarrassing to have been caught in a compromising position with your boyfriend.  It felt like you were fifteen.

“I’ll be out in ten,” Shawn answered.

Dane’s laughter died down as you heard his footsteps carry themselves back over towards the door, “I’ll put a timer on, Oh, and Y/n––“ you could hear the smirk on his lips, “––I hope to see you on the sidelines, preferably with a shirt on.”

You dug your head into the crook of Shawn’s neck as you felt all of the blood rush to your face.  Your hands were still tightly hanging onto the back of Shawn’s shirt for the next few minutes as he stayed in his position on top of you.

“At least it was Dane?”

At his weak attempt of lightening up the mood, you pushed him off and sat up on the couch, “At least?! He saw me without a shirt!”

“I covered you up!”

You shot a glare toward his direction as you got up from the couch and searched for your shirt.  It was crumpled up in a ball on the coffee table.  You let out a deep sigh, of course your shirt was thrown somewhere that was obvious.  Lifting the shirt up by the sleeves, you frowned as you examined all of the wrinkles.

“Here,” Shawn was already walking over to his duffle bag, “You can wear my shirt––“

“I’m––No,” you answered him as you tugged on your shirt, “I’d rather wear a wrinkled shirt than have Dane point out that I’m in one of your shirts.”

“But––“

“Let’s go,” you were a few steps away from the door as you held your hand out for him to take, “I want to pick a snack from the vending machine before the game.”

Shawn let out a sigh and grumbled something about how he loved seeing you in his shirts, but he still took ahold of your hand. The two of you walked out the dressing room as you pressed a kiss to his cheek.  A small smile overtook his face.

The two of you walked toward the backstage part of the arena where the vending machines were held.  You brought up a finger to your chin, debating on what snack to pick, as the vending machine lights illuminated your face.  Once you decided what snack you wanted, you pressed a knuckle to the letter L and then to the number 3.

You watched with excitement as the circular black rings slowly pushed your snack forward.  And then as it was finally tipping over the edge, you smiled as the bag fell with a soft fmmp as it reached the bottom of the machine.  You let go of Shawn’s hand to retrieve your snack from under the plastic black flap.

“Cheetos?” Shawn questioned just as you stood up and opened up the bag with a loud crinkle, “If I’d known you’d want Cheetos, I could’ve like added it to my rider and it would’ve been in the dressing room for you.”

You shrugged your shoulders as you held out the bag, offering your Cheetos to Shawn.  He dug his hand into the bag and took one out.  He popped it into his mouth with a loud crunch as he closed his eyes, “God, it’s been forever since I’ve had these.”

Shawn led you out of the vending machine room as you continued to share your Cheetos with him, “I remember having them as a snack after soccer games,” you shared, “You know how parents would sign up to bring snacks after games? I feel like every parent would buy that big value size pack of like twenty-four different chips, and I––“ you licked your fingers that were covered in Cheeto dust, “––Always picked Cheetos.”

Shawn tilted his head back in laughter as he pushed open a back exit door and held it open for you to walk through, “I was always more of a Fritos guy.”

You scrunched your nose up, “Fritos?”

“They’re good!” Shawn defended himself as the people from the tour crew, who were playing in the soccer match, came into view, “Don’t knock ‘em ’til you try ‘em.”

You scoffed, “There are literally dozens of other chips you could chose from,” you stopped walking when you and Shawn came up to the sideline his ‘team’ was on, “Doritos, Lays, Chex Mix––“

“Hey, Y/n!” Your eyes widened as you heard Dane yell out your name.  His feet hit the pavement hard as he ran over, “Glad you could make it––fully clothed.”  While he was talking in a calm soft voice, not raising it to cause suspicion, it still made Andrew’s head perk up.

“You caught them?” Andrew looked up from tying his shoes at Dane.

You blushed as Shawn’s manager looked between the two of you and then back at Dane as you tried to defend yourself, “He didn’t really see anything––“

“See any of what?” Brian had jogged over and started to stretch, lunging on his left leg as he reached down to touch the toes on his right foot.

“It was nothing––“

“Just Shawn and Y/n going at it in the dressing room,” Dane shrugged as he gave you a wink, “Boyfriend, girlfriend stuff.”

Andrew’s shoulders slumped as he reached over to his bag and pulled out a ten dollar bill and handed it to Dane, “I’m his day-to-day,” Andrew grumbled, “Can’t believe it was the merchandise manager who caught you two first.”

You stood there dumfounded, hand frozen in your bag of Cheetos.  You and Shawn kept your relationship as private as possible––private from the media, your social medias, and made sure to keep your PDA to a minimum when you visited him on tour.  So it was a bit comical to see how intrigued Andrew and Dane were in catching the two of you.

Brian straightened up from his stretching and held a fist out toward Shawn, “Sweet, man––Just like Denver last tour?”

Your bag of Cheetos dropped to the ground, the little you had left of your snack spilled, covering the pavement with an artificial orange color.  You felt the heat of your oncoming blush rise up to your cheeks.  With Brian being Shawn’s best friend, you had an inclination that he knew some––if not most––of your sexual relationship with Shawn.  Which you were fine with because you told your best friend almost everything.

But it was always a topic you never discussed between the two of you.  It was mutually understood that while you talked to your best friend’s about each other, you would never talk about it directly to each other.  Shawn talked to Brian about you; You talked to your best friend about Shawn.  But never would your best friend bring it up in front of Shawn.  And never––did you think––Brian would bring it up in front of you.

The same thought seemed to be stirring within Shawn’s head as his eyes widened for a second.  He was only shocked for a split second more before he let out a chuckle and returned the fist bump to Brian and chose to ignore his comment about what happened Denver, “Thanks, man.” 

“Thanks man?!” You turned to face Shawn who had an amused smirk on his face.  

You weren’t mad at the display of masculinity in front of you, in fact, you saw the humor in it, but it was still embarrassing having your boyfriend be congratulated in front of you for hooking up.

The sound of a high pitch whistle echoed off the pavement.  With the sound of the start whistle, and players heading toward the makeshift field, it took away any chance you had of laying into Shawn more.  

Brian ran away laughing, escaping the choice words you had for him, which just left you with Shawn.  You crossed your arms over your chest stubbornly and tore your head away from Shawn as he lifted a finger under your chin to try and get you to look at him.

“Good luck kiss?”

With a playful sigh, you leaned up on your tip toes to press a peck to Shawn’s smile.  His eyes were still closed when you pulled away and his smile grew wider, “You love me.”

“Unfortunately,” you said as you couldn’t fight Shawn’s contagious smile, “I love you a lot.”

Shawn let out a laugh as a few people hollered at him to come over, “How unfortunate for me,” he pressed another quick kiss to your lips before he started to walk backwards toward the game that had started without him, “Are you free tonight?”

You leaned your weight on your left leg as you tapped a finger on your cheek, “Hm…I’m watching my boyfriend sing at a little show,” Shawn stopped walking backwards, his full attention on you, and showed all his teeth in a grin, “But I’m free after.”

“It’s a date,” Shawn said before he spun around and ran toward the soccer ball.

[seapandora]

Illusion, Part 3/?

Illusion｜Part 3/?

Bucky x oc!Lori

Warnings: Angst, betrayal, swearing, torture, violence

A/N: Part 3 already. And so many more parts to go! I´d be lying if I said I wasn’t tired of this particualr fic every now and then. Luckily for me, my brain knew this would happen. So, the old full part 3 and 4 are both done. Now I just have to edit them. I hope you guys enjoyed this holiday themed part, the next two parts will also be hoiday themed. I wanted them to be released before Christmas, but oh well… Again I hope you guys enjoyed this one! Comment/ share and like if you can! GIF-cred to owner as always! Holler if you want to be put on the taglist!

Summary: Reader is a supersoldier, one of a number, one of nine. Hydra´s backup for the asset. The group was started in 1974 and has been working under the radar, training for the day when the asset no longer exists. Lori is the only one left. Left in a cryo, she wasn’t discovered until 2023 when a certain captain and his buddy found her.

Words: 6557

Taglist: @selfsun​

2024

December was a weird month. It was dark and gloomy, but full of light and happiness. Bucky had been planning the trip to Steve for a while. He was always visiting Steve around Christmas-time, but he had a special plan this time. Lori would come with him, Sam would too. But it was the first time Lori would meet Steve. She knew all about him by now. Steve knew off her, but seeing as he wasn´t military or an avenger anymore, and he didn´t have access to her files. He only knew what Bucky had told him.

Lori had been made aware of the plans in advance so that she could plan a good gift for Americas golden boy. Even if the stories Bucky had told her didn´t paint him in that light. She liked hearing Bucky talk about Steve, and the time before the war. He had retrieved most of his memories from that time, but he liked talking about it because it made him feel less like a monster. Lori had thought long and hard about what she would get Steve. She really wanted to impress him.

December 23rd rolled around a lot quicker than anyone had expected, despite December being a very quiet month, with just one, very simple, mission. This was the day they were visiting Steve in his cabin. Peggy had passed away a few years earlier. Despite Steve going back in time, he hadn´t been able to change Peggys destiny, or her cause of death. It had taken a toll on the former Captain, but he was beginning to be happy, finally. He had his art and the occasional visit from his friends, and of course he had the kids he had made with Peggy.

Bucky was beyond nervous for letting the two super-soldiers meet, but he was looking forward to hear Steves thoughts on Lori. He was driving with Lori and Sam. The others had been sent on a mission the night before, and would be home that afternoon, meaning they missed out on meeting Steve. They had all agreed to go meet up with Steve around New Years instead. Lori sat in the back listening to music while Sam sat besides Bucky. They were bickering like always and Lori had decided music was the best way to cut them out.

“Newbie, hey Lori… Are you even listening?” Sam asked and reached back to grab her leg. Lori wisely moved her leg out of the way and slapped Sams arm. “What do you want potoo?” She asked and raised her eyebrows at the man in the passenger seat. She had taken to calling him potoo about a month ago, for no other reason than to piss him off. At first Sam hadn´t understood the joke but he had done some research and found out that potoos were weird-looking birds with crazy eyes. He wasn´t ashamed to admit that he was offended at first, but only until he realized that Lori would have had to go out of her way to look up weird birds to give him a nickname that was special to her, and her alone. After he realized that he had no issues with it. “We´re about to arrive so put your shoes and jacket on,” he explained and nodded to a small cabin showing up on the road in front of them.

She did as she was told. She wasn´t sure why, but Sam had accepted her as if she was his younger sister and despite everything, Lori trusted Sam. More than anyone really. Apart from Bucky of course, but Bucky was different. Much between Lori and Bucky was different. Bucky was the first one Lori had opened up to. She had already told him a lot about herself and her time with Hydra. He knew about most of the bad stuff she had been forced into. He had also seen her at her worst.

In October Lori had begun showing signs of post traumatic stress disorder, a disorder Helen had later given her. It had started with Lori being unable to sleep and she had instead stayed up for longer than she should. When she did start sleeping she had nightmares, bad ones. They were about her time in Hydra. Some were just filled with images of the people she had killed, others were about her missions. But most of her nightmares were about the punishments Hydra would give her. The nights they would tie her to a bed and torture her.

Lori would wake up in tears, and she wouldn´t dare to go back to sleep after that. One rainy, cold night Lori had gotten up and walked to Buckys room. She was originally planning to go to Sam and talk to him, but something had enticed her to go to Bucky instead. Her subconcious had said Bucky would understand her situation better. He had been awake and he had let Lori sleep in his bed curled up to his chest for the rest of the night. He had read somewhere that hearing calming sounds, such as rain patter, or a heartbeat, could be helpful, and thats what he tried to be.

That was the first night in a few weeks she had slept well. From that night Bucky made sure that Friday watched Lori during the nights, and he would be right outside knocking on her door when Friday alerted him to changes in her sleep. Lori really appreciated it. She appreciated Bucky for wanting to help her, and wanting the best for her. He was constantly there for her, even when she didnt know she needed him.

The air hit her as Sam opened the door for her. She was in the midst of tying her left shoe. It was cold, enough for both Lori and Bucky to want a jacket, and Sam was wearing a thicker jacket. He didnt have super-soldier serum, so he wasn´t as resistent to the cold as the two others. Being who he was he often complained about it as well, and he could become very grumpy when Lori or Bucky weren´t cold. It wasn´t fair in his books. He grumbled as he pulled the jacket closer around himself while Bucky and Lori kept theirs opened.

Steve was standing on the little patio in front of the cabin leaning on his cane. “I´ve got a fire going inside and Brooke made us all hot chocolate before she left, so come inside and get comfortable,” he said and smiled before he walked back into his cabin. Sam and Bucky followed after him while Lori took a bit longer. She didn´t analyze her surroundings, she trusted Bucky and Sam and their judgment.  If they felt safe in the environment, so did Lori. Bucky looked back to her and chuckled before he stretched his hand out to her. “Come on slow-poke,” he chuckled and watched as Lori took some slow steps up the stairs.

Lori gently took Buckys hand and let him guide her inside. They all took of their shoes, considering Steve himself claimed to be old to want to vaccuum every second day. Bucky helped Lori with her jacket and hung it up for her before they made their way further into the cabin. The seating area was small, and felt smaller with the original supersoldier, and the first winter soldier. Sure Steve had lost a bit of his muscle mass but he was still tall and he filled up a space like no bodys business. Bucky was just buff in general, muscular, tall-ish, and his broad shoulders really made him look bigger. Sam wasn´t as big as the other two, but he was still tall and muscular. Lori wasn´t small either, but she had a very different baseline from which the serum worked.

They all sat in silence for a while until Sam coughed a bit. “So Steve, meet Lori,” he said and gestured to Lori who waved shyly from her seat besides Bucky. “Lori, where are you from? I´ve heard a bit about you, but when were you born? And where?” He asked with a kind smile. He didn´t want to overdo things already, but he needed to know who she was before he trusted her. Before he could trust her to be around Bucky. Lori looked at him and played with her fingers. “Ehum, I was born in 1959 inSweden,” she answered and looked down at her hands. She didn´t feel intimidated by the supersoldier, but she felt like she had to show him respect. He was older, wiser and a better human being than she was.

Steve nodded and proceeded to ask Bucky and Sam about their latest mission. All to allow Lori to warm up to him. He didn´t want her to be nervous around him, he wanted her to consider him an ally, someone she could talk to if she needed. Lori stayed close to Bucky but looked around Steves cabin. There were one or two famous paintings as well as a few black and white sketches. Some were clearly of Peggy, a woman Lori would recognize anywhere. A few were of Bucky and Steve from what seemed like way back, possibly the time of the war. A few were simple landscapes, around the compound area. Lori had been on enough runs to recognize the scenery. Steve watched her and looked up at the sketches. “What do you think?” He asked and smiled at Lori.

She looked to Steve and then back to the sketches. “They´re beautiful. But I can´t say I´m not feeling a little uneasy by seeing a different Bucky.” She explained and sighed as she glanced to the Bucky she knew. “Oh, he isn´t different. Not really anyways, just hardened by what happened to him. When I see him I still see the Bucky from the 30´s and 40´s. He just takes longer to show that side of himself.” Steve argued and stood up. “Come with me, I´ll show you more sketches,” he said and smiled as he walked towards a room to the north of the cabin. Lori stood up as well and followed Steve.

The room was smaller than Lori had expected, but it didn´t have any furniture apart from a desk and a chair. However the walls were filled with pencil sketches. It was sketches of everything between heaven and hell. She looked around in awe and crossed her arms over her stomach. Sure the room wasn´t big but Lori felt small around the art. It was so beautiful, and meaningful, without Steve having to say so. Lori looked closer on a specific sketch of Bucky. She checked the date on it and realized it had been done in the summer of 2018.  That meant it was done after the snap, Bucky was gone by then. Steve noticed her looking at it and sighed. “We lost everything in the snap. For a few months I didn´t know what I was going to do.” Steve said softly and sighed as he sat down on the chair.

“Natasha took over the Avengers, or whatever it was by then. I couldn´t be around it all, I didn´t want to be around it all. I took over Sam´s VA-group, not that it was a VA-group by then. It was a way to help people understand what had happened.” Steve said quietly and drummed his fingers on the table. “I spent most of the five years sketching and trying to help people. I owed that to the world.” He continued. Lori looked at him and frowned. “But you did save the world. You reversed the snap, and you saved those who had been taken,” Lori exclaimed and tilted her head.  

Steve smirked a bit and shook his head. “I wasn´t alone in doing that, and Tony was the one to actually reverse it. “He said and rubbed the back of his head. Sitting there at his desk in front of the window with the snow falling outside, he looked lonely. “As true as that might be. I read that you were the one to inspire him to come back. That without you two making up, the world wouldn´t have been saved.” Lori said as her eyes slid over a sketch of Iron Man himself. Steve had sketches of all the team-members, well the original team-members at least.

“You and Bucky, huh?” He asked and Lori froze before she snapped her head towards Steve. “Wha… what? Me and Bucky, what?” She asked and looked terrified for a second before the look turned into confusion. “Oh you two aren´t fondueing?” He asked with a smirk, which he dropped as he saw the utter confusion on Lori´s face. “You´re not a couple? Youre not dating?” He asked instead and stood up from the chair. Lori just shook her head with a frown. “Oh wow, I´m sorry. It´s just the way you look at each other and the way you talk to each other and touch each other,” he said trying to explain his questions.

Lori looked down at her hands and sighed. “I… I like Bucky. He´s… he´s been very udnerstanding with me. I feel like there´s a trust between us that I´ve never had before. I really like Sam too, but more like a brother than anything.” She mumbled and picked at her fingers, a sign Steve often saw in people who were nervous. “Have you told Bucky about how you feel, or has he talked to you?” Steve asked and looked at her with interest. “No, no, no, I´m pretty sure he doesn´t feel that way,” Lori said quickly and put her hands up. Steve gave her a knowing look but nodded. “Alright, well I´m sorry I spoke on it when I was clearly unaware of the real situation. But please talk to Bucky about it. I´m sure it will all work out!” He said with a smile before he led Lori back into the livingroom.

Bucky looked up as Steve and Lori came back in. “Has he shown you all his sketches now?” He asked with a smile before he stood up to get the bag of gifts they had brought over. Lori smiled at Bucky and nodded her head. She couldn´t shake the feeling of what Steve had told her, and asked her about. She really hoped she´d get over it soon enough. She wasnt sure she was ready to make any of her feelings known. And she wasn´t even sure Bucky would care.

1973

Spring had rolled in with tons of rain. Lori wasn´t allowed outside but she heard it through the nights, and water was running down the cement-walls of her cell. It was wet and cold. Lori

hated it. She had never done anything to deserve this. She had never hurt a soul, she never wanted to hurt anyone. Now that was the only thing she did. Her captors forced her against soldiers every day, and so far she hadn´t lost one fight. If she had she wouldn´t be around. She did her best to stay in their good graces to not be tortured.

It had been a success, they hadn´t tied her to a bed in months. That meant Lori hadn´t been in any pain she couldn´t handle in a long time. If relief was a feeling she could still have she had it now. They had also given her a better mattress and a thicker blanket. It was awful that this was what Lori had begun to associate with something good. But her current situation had turned into being her new safe, her new norm.

She had just been woken up by loud banging in the hallway outside her cell. She had immediately gone into a fighting stance. Her entire existence was based on defeating others. Guards entered her room, there was five or six of them now, considering Lori had become quite strong since they started the super-serum experiment on her. She could easily take down two of the guards at once, but she had issues taking down four or more guards, they were quite strong themselves.

They blindfolded Lori and brought her out of the cell and past her usual training rooms. She knew the hallways fairly well by now. She was more scared when she felt fresh air and rain on her skin. She was outside. They had taken her outside. Lori hadn´t been outside since she was taken. It was strange, and she was now terrified. Would they kill her? Shoot her and dump her into a hole and then cover it up? Lori didn´t know and she wasn´t sure she wanted to know.

Lori could hear the sound of a car close by but she didn´t have time to think about it before she was pushed into the backseat of a car. She was uncomfortable but her arms weren´t tied so she could adjust herself. The guards told her to stay put, and she didn´t dare do anything else. The car started to move and Lori held on to the seats. She didn´t have any sense of direction and had to struggle against falling over whenever the car took a turn.

After an hour or so the car stopped and Lori felt hands tugging at her arms. She moved her legs out of the car and then the rest of her body. The hands guided her down some stairs and into some sort of damp bunker-like area. The floor was rough and Lori wasn´t wearing any shoes. It was clearly cement but she could smell something metallic and her best guess was that it was either the piping, of the bunker-like place, or iron covered walls.  

She was dragged to a room which was slightly warmer. After the experiment, Lori had become more aware of her surroundings. It was as if an entirely different part of her brain had been unlocked. The blindfold was removed and she blinked at the light and squinted her eyes. She refrained from reaching up to cover her eyes from the light. Her bad aclimatizing to the light meant she wasn´t ready for the slap that landed on her left cheek abrubtly turning her head. Lori groaned and closed her eyes again. She didn´t reach up to touch her cheek. There wasn´t any need to, that wouldnt be the last hit.

2024

The quartet ate smores and drank hot chocolate while exchanging gifts with each other. Well it was really the three avengers giving gifts to the retired avenger. They had gotten together and brainstormed Steves gifts one night and had then gone their separate ways to get them. Bucky had gotten Steve a new set of Aquarells and generally new supplies since he knew Steve was always running low by the end of the year. Sam had managed to get a deal on a warehouse just a few blocks away which now was Steves. It was a place he could store either his sketches or furniture from his house to fill it with more sketches.

Lori who barely knew Steve, but wanted to be liked by him, had gone all out. She had gifted him with a paid vacation to the Stockholm archepelago. It was the city she was from and she had always loved the ocean as a kid. Steve quickly declined her gift but Lori insisted. It was her wish that Steve would get to go there and make beautiful sketches in peace and not have to worry about anyone else. She had seen some of his landscape sketches and knew he could do amazing things with the right view.

They stayed for a bit longer, but decided that they should head back at around 3 pm. Steve had his family arriving later in the evening and wanted to clean up a bit, and the three avengers had to get back to the compound to start setting up things for christmas. They also had to get a tree on their way back. Sam asked Bucky to drop him halfway home. He had a few buisness to attend to. Bucky and Lori could get the tree themselves. The tree-farm was quite close to the compound, just one turn off actually. Bucky pulled up to the forest area and got out of the car pulling his jacket a bit tighter. They didn´t really get cold anymore but the wind still made his skin crawl.

A perfect tree stood right in front of them. Bucky thought it was perfect at least. Nearly every tree was perfect in his mind. He really didn´t care too much. Celebrating Christmas was something he did just for the others, he himself didn´t feel much of a connection to the holiday. Most of his previous ones had been spent killing or sleeping. He looked over to Lori, well, where she was supposed to be, but he couldnt find her. “Lori?” He called out and began to look around the trees to see if he could find her. The trees were quite a bit taller than Bucky and Lori was shorter than Bucky. She could have easily sneaked off and he wouldn´t be able to find her. She was a spy after all, and she had been trained by some of the best.

If she didn´t want to be found Bucky wouldn´t find her, but he did start to panick a bit when he had been searching for a few minutes. It wasn´t a big place, she couldn´t just disappear.  He had half a mind to try and call her when she came out from behind a tree looking for him. “Where did you go?” He asked with his voice slightly raised. “You can´t just run off,” he explained and sighed as he noticed Lori moving back a bit. He quickly realized it was because he raised his voice at her. He shook his head and held her hands up. “I´m sorry, I didn´t mean to raise my voice at you, I was worried. Did you find a tree you like?” He asked and gave Lori a soft smile to try and ease the blow from before.

Lori nodded and pointed in the direction of a row of trees a bit further into the farm. It was obvious why they had been placed farther away from where people would typically go. The trees were smaller and less perfect. Not awful, just slightly less ideal for a Christmas tree. “Are you sure doll? The compound is pretty big and we want a tree that can flourish in the environment, right?” He asked as he looked at the trees. If it truly was what Lori wanted he wouldn´t argue and he wouldn´t complain.  Lori looked over at Bucky and pouted a bit. “I know they´re not traditionally beautiful, but there´s a charm to them, don´t you agree?” She asked softly and touched one of the trees´ branches.

Bucky didn´t have the strength to say no to her so he simply nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Pick whichever one you like the most,” he said, defeat clear in his voice. He wasn´t actually upset with it though, why would he be? It was just a christmas tree.  Lori walked around for a bit longer before she decided on a tree that stood around 5´6 feet tall. Bucky happened to know the average christmas tree was 7 ft tall. He hadn´t googled that, nope, not at all…  He hadn´t googled Swedish Christmas traditions to be able to give Lori something sepcial either. Not that he had found much, and he felt like he had to talk to Lori about it before he put his plan to work.

They got the tree into the car and Bucky drove them back to the compound once they had paid for the tree. “I was looking online for something I could do for you and I found some old, well not old, traditions. Like a showing of Donald Duck, or something at 3 pm Swedish time, which is like 9 am here, tomorrow. I´ve fixed us a VPN so you can watch it if you´d like.” He said and stared hard at the road ahead of them. Lori glanced at him and smiled to herself. “I haven´t seen the Donald Duck Christmas showing since I was five or something, I´d love to watch it.” She answered and hugged herself as she curled up in the seat. It was beautiful outside, quiet and light. The road to the compound was mostly unused. The lower-level agents had all gotten the holidays off and if any situation came up the Avengers were stepping in. They had had a few months off when Lori was found and were now getting that time back.

Considering the compound was empty the snow was clean, and it was glimmering in the light of the car. It was dark out by now, but a few lanterns had been placed along the road, which meant it wasn´t pitchblack. Lori looked out the window and let out a silent sigh. Her first couple of Christmas celebrations had been amazing, but around the age of 8 or so her mother had stopped caring about making christmas special for Lori.  She was rarely home ,and if she was she had been drunk and Lori´s christmas had been ruined. Her father had never been around and she didn´t have any other family.

Bucky patted her leg and hummed. “So Donald Duck tomorrow. Would you like your present tomorrow as well. I read that that was also a tradition?” He asked and frowned a bit. Lori looked at him and chuckled. “You´ve surely done youre homework. Yes we do get our presents the 24th, but I dont mind waiting until the 25th, it´s not a big deal,” she explained and shrugged. Bucky nodded and smiled. “Alright, well I want you to tell me what you want from this Christmas. It´s your first in many many years, and I want you to enjoy it!” He said as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.  

Lori blushed and bit her lip. “I´m sure I´ll enjoy it as long as the team is around. You guys have done so much for me and I feel like you are all family to me.” she mumbled and pulled at the sleeves of her sweater which were sticking out under the sleeves of her jacket. Bucky smiled and reached over to take her hand. “We are your family, and you will always be safe with us.” He said and stroke the back of her hand.

Sure the two had spent nights together, after nightmares, but it had just been cuddles and hugs. But this felt different? Or maybe that was just Lori overthinking. Had something happened at Steves, or did she just now start to see the way Bucky interacted with her. He was always attentive to her needs and he always seemed to put her thoughts, and wishes first.

Bucky pulled into the garage at the compound and Lori got out of the car and got to open the trunk to get the tree. She wasn´t quick enough, and only managed to get the trunk open before Bucky gently nudged her out of the way and picked the tree up. Lori huffed a bit but backed away to give Bucky some space. “You could have just said you wanted to take it, instead of pushing me over,” she said and crossed her arms. Bucky laughed at her antics. “Hey did you want to carry it? I don´t mind” he shrugged. Lori shook her head and pouted. “No, you choose this, now you have to live with that choice,” She said and stomped over to the door holding it open for him.

She may be pouty but she wasn´t an asshole. Bucky chuckled once more and walked through the door she held open. “Thank you, do you want to go freshen up before we start decorating? I think the team is back, so you can catch up with Wanda and Peter if he´s still here” Bucky said. He didn´t want to crowd her or take up all of her time when he was certain that she and Wanda had a lot of things to talk about. They had grown so close in the past month. Lori had also gotten close to the young Parker-boy. Something that made Bucky a little uneasy at first, but he had quickly realized Lori only saw Peter as a younger brother, someone who helped her with technology and such.

Wanda made herself known quickly with a loud squeal as she ran to Lori to hug her. Lori hugged her back tightly and laughed a bit as Wanda showed her images of the mission. She often did that if it was something funny that one of the others didn´t want to be shared. Wanda pulled her to the kitchen so they could get something to eat and drink. Bucky was in turn left to his own demise as he was carrying the tree. He placed it down in the livingroom before he got Thor and Loki to help him get some decorations. They had a few boxes in the attic and Bucky didn´t feel like taking a million trips up and down the elevator.

The two gods had become regulars at the compound. Loki liked Lori a lot, she was just as tricky as he was and she liked to play pranks on Sam and Peter. She had learned a few from Loki. Of course she didn´t have his magic, but he shared what he could on “normal” tricks. Lori was a quick learner. Loki had tried to implement magic into it but Lori wasn´t having any of it. It wasnt fair considering neither Sam nor Peter was magical. Both of the gods had been very keen on letting Lori in on their story. Her favorite storyline so far was what had happened with Hela. She liked the fact that facing Hela had brought out the best in the brothers. Thor had been able to harnes his complete power and Loki had learned he wasn´t entirely bad.  

All the christmas decorations had been moved down from the attic by Bucky and the gods while Lori was catching up with Wanda and Peter. Sam had made his way back to the compound as well during that time. Once Lori was all caught up on the mission the three of them made their way to the livingroom where they saw all the boxes with decorations.  Lori looked around and frowned a bit. “We figured you´d want to take charge of the decorating,” Bucky explained as he looked around at all the boxes. Lori looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Well, I´definitely going to need some help,” She replied and huffed softly. Bucky laughed and nodded. “We´ll all help you, don´t worry about that” he smiled and got to setting the tree up. The foot needed assembling and well, the girls didn´t seem too interested and the gods had no idea what to do. Sam had already given up any sort of responsibility when it came to decorating.

Lori walked over to a box and opened it to see what was inside. Ornaments of all colours, shapes and sizes met her. She wasn´t a big fan of, over the top, decorating, and instead wanted to go for something more simple. She wanted the tree to look beautiful, and so her colors of choice were red and silver. It was simplistic but it fit them all. Well apart from Loki, but they would have reindeers up and around the compound. The rest of the avengers had grey or red incorportated into their suits and daily clothes. It would all feel more close-knit to Lori if she could see colors she felt comfortable with.

Wanda helped her a bit and used her powers to hang the ornaments in the windows and such. Peter was busy setting his aunts room up, for when she was coming over for Christmas. The gods were mostly standing around watching Lori and Wanda pick ornaments and decorate the livingroom. After a little while they moved to the kitchen and then the hallways. Bucky looked around after a little while noticing Lori and Wanda had left the room. He had been so invested in making sure the tree was standing safetly. “Hey where did Lori go?” He asked the gods who nodded towards the hallway.

He walked slowly wanting to give Lori and Wanda as much time as possible to hang their decorations, but he needed a few minutes alone with Lori. He found the two women after just a short while and smiled at their decorating skills. It was a bit of a mess actually but that was a later problem. “Hey Lori, can I talk to you for a sec?” He asked and frowned as he crossed his arms and waited for her go ahead. Lori tilted her head and thought for a second before she looked at Wanda, who nodded in approval. “I´ll finish up this hallway,” she said and nudged Lori towards Bucky. Lori groaned but walked over to Bucky ready to follow him, wherever he wanted to go.

Bucky smiled and held out his hand for Lori to take before he guided her down the hall to his room. He wanted them to have some privacy. Lori happily took his hand and followed him to his room. She wasn´t sure what he wanted to talk about but she was sure she wouldn´t mind. She liked the alone time she spent with Bucky. She took a quick look around Buckys room before she sat down on his bed, to which he had motioned. Bucky sat down besides her and turned to her taking both of Lori´s hands in his own. He was constantly in awe of how Lori didn´t seem to mind his metal arm and hand. She had no issues with the coldness that came from it. “So what was it you wanted to talk about?” Lori asked as she looked at Bucky. He looked so different from the pictures she had seen in his file. His hair was short, but she liked it. She understood why he had cut his hair. It was a reminder of his time with Hydra, and cutting it off was a way to leave that behind.

His hands were shaking slightly as he took a deep breath. “I… I´ve been meaning to talk to you for a while. Steve talked to me today, avbout it. And I kind of realized I had to… yeah I had to do this today,” he said and sighed. “Lori… I, I´m in love with you,” he said quietly and looked down at their hands. He could feel Lori freeze, her hands went stiff but she soon seemed to relax. She lot go of his metal hand and gently gripped Buckys chin to tilt his head up. He looked at her and felt his face heat up under her gaze. Blushing wasn´t something he was used to, emotions even less so.  

Lori smiled and leaned forward pressing her lips against Buckys. She could feel him still for a second before he melted into the kiss and grabbed her hand a little tighter. “Does… does this mean you feel the same?” Bucky asked as they broke for air. Lori giggled and nodded. “Yeah, I like you too,” she said and gave him a quick kiss. “How about we get back out, and we finish up decorating,. Eat some good food, and then I´ll be all yours tonight if you want, or we could go for a whole lot of cuddles,” she said and  bit her lip before she stood up and wiped her hands on her pants. Bucky stood up as well and hummed. “I´d like to spend the evening with you, but I have to go out and get some last minute presents,” he sighed.

1973

Her new bosses where hard on her. She hadn´t been this beaten up in a long time, maybe that was why she had been moved. It didn´t do her any good to dwell on it however, and hence she didn´t after the first day. She learned to follow orders, she learned not to talk back. She learned to be a compliant soldier.

The schedule she had been put on was brutal. At most she got four hours of undisturbed sleep, and those days she was lucky. Usually the nights were filled with screams making it near impossible to sleep more than a few minutes at the time. The days were filled with drills and training. She was trained in different languages, dancing, and general spy-subjects.  

In the few weeks she had been in her new prison she had learned proper french and russian. From before she had been forced to learn german and spanish. Swedish and english were languages she had known from before Hydra. She had overheard her captors talk about her learning italian and arabic as well.

And she did, it took her months but by mid august Lori was almost a perfect spy. The only thing she was lacking was the field-experience. And she would get that sooner than she thought. The very same month to be precise. It wasn´t a big mission, and it wouldn´t matter a lot if Lori failed, even if she would be punished hard if she did. But there was no risk in it for Hydra.

It was supposedly a simple elimination-mission, and the target wasn´t anyone too famous, but they had become a small threat to Hydra. Lori started by stalking the target for two days, they were simple, and obsessive about their schedule. Lori was able to take them out on her third day. She was then collected by Hydra and taken back to her prison without as much as a thank you or confirmation that she had done a good job.

When they got back to the holding place she was taken to her cell and left there for a few days. It wasn´t until five days later she got her next meal, and only after she had been through a thorough beating which left her forgetting her own name. When she came too she was back in her cell with half-eaten food in front of her and a small glass of water. She didn´t trust it for a second but swallowed it all down in seconds.

Her trust would earn her another beating. She wasn´t supposed to trust anything that was half eaten. She was not to make that mistake again, she was told. That was the first night in months she had cried herself to sleep. At the old place she had had a mattress and a nice blanket, now she had neither. She had her clothes to cushion the floor and to cover her from the cold in the room.

She had never thought it could get worse, but these new people. They were pure evil and Lori knew they would break her, and if they didn´t someone else would get the chance. That was her curse, ever since she became a super soldier. People wanted to break her, to be able to rebuild her.

[spookyspaghettisundae]

It Was That Time of Year Again

Cold winter nights came early, even in the idyllic town of Greenwick. But unlike other, similar settlements throughout North America, this quaint little pocket of suburbia just shone all the brighter.

A picturesque coating of powdery snow reflected all the light, amplifying the glow of bright windows and Christmas lights and elaborate illuminated decorations, all gleaming from the perfect houses and their roofs and their lawns. The sun had barely set, leaving behind a sliver of bright orange glow on the horizon, complementing the kaleidoscope of warm and dazzling artificial lights.

It all brought a smile to Caroline’s face. She rode in her car down the wide and sleepy streets of her hometown. The comfort of her vehicle’s heating helped create a cozy cocoon of nostalgia. While the car rolled down the freshly-plowed road at a lazy pace, some friendly folks in the neighborhood who recognized her waved at her, replete with cheery smiles on their faces.

She basked in the glow of the serenity of this place where she had grown up, having returned here from the big city for the first time in a decade. Everything was perfect. More perfect than she ever remembered, or had envisioned when she packed her bags for the holiday season.

Too perfect.

Before Caroline reached the next turn to take, she spotted a familiar old face. Jacob Brooks—his face now a roadmap of wrinkles that portrayed the lines of a happy life lived, framed by a full head of salt and pepper hair—looked up just in time for their gazes to meet.

Both their faces lit up, beaming at each other in recognition and happy over the reunion. Caroline waved and stifled a giggle, then pulled her car over to stop at the curb by Jacob’s snow-covered lawn.

He ceased his toil of shoveling snow out of his driveway and sauntered over to her car, just in time for her to lower the passenger seat window and lean over.

“Now you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said with a chuckle, shooting her a wink. “Looks to me like someone got bored with the big important city life. What in good God’s name brought you back to our humble little town?”

Her smile widened and her eyelids fluttered as she struggled to come up with an answer. Always that pressure for finding the proper amount of eloquence.

“The family keeps rotating where we meet up for the holiday season each year, and we finally agreed to come back here for one last time before talking about selling the old house.”

Jacob’s smile stayed on his face, but it twitched and masked the shadow of a frown.

Caroline hated disappointing anybody, though, and almost squealed when she blurted out, “But I’m going to buy out and renovate the place.”

Jacob nodded and the earnest air returned to mingle with his smile, making it honest again.

“Now, you see, that’s somethin’ I love to hear,” he said. “Bright mind and beautiful smile like yours? Always welcome, here in Greenwick. Yoz'odrhaxz.”

A shiver ran down Caroline’s spine and she tasted something metallic in her mouth. Something that reminded her of copper. She blinked and took a moment to process what he had just said, which all sounded great except for the final and unintelligible syllables.

“Sorry,” she said, face twisting to underline her apology. “What did you just say?”

Jacob blinked and his brow furrowed in confusion before he replied, “I said you’re always welcome, here in Greenwick. Yoz'odrhaxz.”

There it was again. Tying her innards up in a knot, driving her pulse to speed up, ever so slightly. Making the warmth of her car’s heating clash with the cold wintry air pouring in from the open window where Jacob peered inside. The cocoon stopped feeling as safe as it had, and something dark and inky started blending in with the soup of nostalgia that her mind had been swimming in.

Yoz'odrhaxz. Those sounds were all wrong. She had never heard them before, but hearing them twice left her feeling deeply unsettled. For a split second, she wondered if she was having a stroke. She didn’t want to hear that ever again. Then she realized how long and awkward this silence must have been growing between them, accentuated only by the thrum and soft vibrations of her car’s running motor.

She forced a smile onto her face and hoped it reached her eyes. The mask she had learned to wear, growing in Greenwick—the mask that had gotten her so far in the big city.

“Well, I gotta get going, I’m already running a little bit late,” she told him.

He smiled again. At least it looked genuine—it helped take off some of her edge.

“You are the last one I expected,” he said, wagging a finger at her. Another warm and fuzzy chuckle erupted from his throat.

Just before the edge had bid its final farewells, it bubbled back up, returning in full force. From the corner of her eye, Caroline saw the blood draining from her face. Realized with delay how her brain parsed the words after her gut did. Her gut, that was now tied up in a thick, heavy knot.

You are the last one.

I expected.

You are the last one.

She gave him an awkward wave and pushed a button on her console. The window began rolling back up to close. The smile stayed on his face, like a frozen mask. It looked authentic enough, but offered no chance of dispelling the dread that now took root inside the dark recesses of her mind.

The same place where nebulous memories lurked. She struggled to recall how she had gotten here. The blur of slapping that alarm clock to make it cease its annoying beeping, early that morning. How she packed—

Jacob knocked on the window just after it had shut completely.

Caroline swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and pushed the button again. Lowered the window till it was open again, but just a crack.

“Hey, um, why don’t you stop by? Y'know, like, whenever. I’d love to catch up, talk about old times, and such,” he said. “W-we, uh—we c-could go grab a coffee at the diner—it’s still there, hasn’t changed one bit since you, uh, rode outta town.”

His smile had transformed into something fiercely nervous. So innocent, so downright adorable that Caroline could not help but find it sweet.

She nodded and told him she’d love that, then hastily rolled up the window and drove off.

Still, she smiled at Jacob through her rear view mirror as she drove off, accelerating to a speed just slightly over the limit. She still used her signal light as she took her left turn on the deserted roads. He raised a hand for a motionless wave in parting, picking up his snow shovel but not returning to work on his driveway.

She expected him to return to shoveling snow but he continued standing there, watching her drive away until her course had put other houses in between them. Smiling all the while. Two masked people. Pretending nothing was wrong.

Caroline found no way to shake that feeling, unable to forget those ghastly syllables that had escaped his throat. Like someone choking on broken glass and shattered dreams.

Yoz'odrhaxz.

She had in no way merely imagined him saying that. Not twice.

But she also felt with a sense of certainty: he either did not realize it himself, or he knew very well and kept up a perfect guise of feigned ignorance. Either way only made her insides knot up even tighter.

Focusing on the road helped, though. Those streaks of tire treads that ripped through the thin sheen of snow on the asphalt. The ostentatious displays of Santas and cartoonish reindeer and fake snowmen, all decked out in clusters of brightly glowing lights.

The sun died beyond the horizon. That last sliver of natural orange light vanished with it. The one solace the sky still gave Caroline? She could now clearly see the twinkling stars, littering the dark void of the heavens. Tiny beacons, lonesome on their own, varying in their intensity, but brilliant and pretty as a whole. And comforting.

Her knuckles had turned white from gripping the steering wheel with such force that she could practically hear the faux leather crack under the sheer pressure. Taking a deep breath and pushing it out in a calming sigh accompanied her releasing some of that tension, loosening her hold and trying to clear her mind.

But the horrid syllables refused to go away.

They summoned something else from the darkest corners of her recollections. She remembered every highlight of the day, every dreary stretch of monotony that had constituted the hours of driving all the way out here.

The uncomfortable thing that haunted her thoughts was a dream she had suffered through last night. In it, she had returned to Greenwick but was another person entirely, a woman named Rita. And waking up to the alarm clock’s beeping, it had taken so many moments of disoriented stumbling around to realize that she was, in fact, Caroline, and not Rita.

She was, in fact, driving home to Greenwick to see her family. She was going to break the news to them about paying off all the outstanding debts on the house and fixing it back up. Maybe even moving back out here. Unlike Rita, who thought she was being chased by vampires, eventually hiding out in her old home from former neighbors and family members turned monsters.

The vampires in that dream wore masks fashioned out of strips of human skin, stitched together. They did not drink blood, they did not have super-powers. They just made you wear one of their hideous masks when they caught you. She spent most of her dream running, attempting to evade and avoid the vampires.

The circle of thoughts—cycling back and forth between the bizarre dream of Rita’s night of terror, and the reality of herself, Caroline, returning to her hometown—it occupied her mind to the point of complete absorption. It helped keep those syllables at bay.

When Gina, one of her best friends from growing up, flagged her from her brightly lit porch, Rita finally snapped out of it. Or rather, Caroline snapped out of Rita, and snapped out of the haze of last night’s dream invading her consciousness.

She pulled up to the curb of the sidewalk in front of Gina’s home. Cut the engine and got out. Gina’s expression kept alternating between happiness and something scrunched up, like she was about to break out into tears. Caroline slammed the door shut, and the two of them walked towards each other, eventually falling into a warm and loving embrace, with the fabric of their thick jackets rustling in the process.

“Oh my God,” Gina breathed, pushing away from her but maintaining a hold on Caroline’s arms. “Oh my. I’m so happy to see you.”

Their breath condensed in front of their mouths in tiny little clouds. Caroline fought back some tears.

“It has been way too long,” she told Gina. “I’m so sorry about—”

“No, listen. Don’t you apologize about nothing. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard things must have been, but I totally get it. Wouldn’t have minded a line or two, though.”

Caroline slid out of Gina’s hold till she found her old friend’s gloved hands and could tenderly grab hold of them. The Christmas lights all around them began to blur in the haze of tears as they welled up in the corners of her eyes. The tiny little twinkling stars in the sky stretched into bright streaks and crosses.

“We’re gonna make it right this time, I promise,” Gina said with a trembling voice, choking on first waves of an urge to start sobbing. “Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. Bhaor'mer.”

Chills ran down Caroline’s spine. She shivered, especially in reading something resembling fear in Gina’s face.

“Ovhaioct, Khithalak,” Gina said. “Bhaor'mer.”

She smiled through tearful eyes at Caroline. That smile carried not only elation over seeing her again after all these years—and all those circumstances behind them—but also a profound sense of sadness, twinkling in the reflection of the stars in the tears in her eyes.

Paralysis had seized Caroline, locked up her every limb. Those syllables, just as horrible as the ones that had come from Jacob’s mouth, though different one and all.

Sometimes, a vivid dream breaks just the right way with reality, allowing the dreamer to realize that the experience is but a fabrication of the sleeping mind.

This was not one of those times.

That taste of snow delivered by the fresh wintry air; that warm sweet breath of Gina’s, reaching and grazing over the exposed skin of Caroline’s face; those endearing displays of Christmas decorations surrounding them; everything imprinted her every waking second with so many vivid impressions that it could not be a mere dream.

Everything here in Greenwick was perfect. Too perfect, like it had been lifted right out of one of those sappy holiday movies. Everything except for those syllables, crunching through Caroline’s thoughts like heavy boots in snow, like tires on gravel. Grinding, and chewing, and chomping. Smacking. Something hungry.

Gina embraced her so quickly, so forcefully. It took Caroline by surprise. The embrace was still so warm—comforting, even. Still so loving. The fabric of their jackets rustled again as the embrace tightened. A gloved hand rested on the back of Caroline’s head.

A whisper in her ear, “Play along. Or else.”

Words nobody ever wants to hear. Especially not like this.

They boosted Caroline’s pulse to a racing thrum, the heartbeat pounding away in a crazed orchestration with the rushing of blood in her ears.

“Go,” Gina breathed, her lips brushing against Caroline’s ear, so close were they, sending a tingling sensation down her spine. This one pleasant. But not enough to override the growing horror of the words she spoke. “Pretend everything’s normal. Don’t say a thing.”

Gina pushed her away again, still smiling. Still teary-eyed. But it had all transformed into a mask. Hiding something else. Something that matched or even eclipsed the fear that Caroline now felt. In sync with her pounding heart, her fingers throbbed as Gina slipped completely from their embrace and backed away.

“Don’t be a stranger now,” Gina laughed. But the words and the laughter all felt forced. Staged. They were all theater kids back in the day, and none of them good. That much had not changed.

Gina silently mouthed a single word.

“Go.”

Caroline wanted to say something in return, but nothing fitting came to mind. And even if she could think of anything, fear had tightly gripped her throat.

All she managed to eke out, croaking it like a toad, was a feeble, “Bye.”

The moment she turned away and returned to her car with hasty steps, those syllables wanted to surface in her thoughts. She did not let them, pushed them down. Slamming the car door helped. The growl of the engine as she sped up while driving away also helped her stop thinking.

Right now, thinking was the enemy.

Caroline stepped on the gas, hoping to get back to the old family home as fast as possible without going over the speed limit. Snow be damned.

Even with nightfall, everything in town looked beautiful. A grotesque contrast to the nightmare she was living through now. The sea of artificial lights shed such perfect clarity on the shapes and outlines of all the perfect homes and yards and picket fences and mailboxes and gaudy Christmas ornaments.

And people stood outside. Caroline resolved to just wave and smile and pretend everything was normal and alright if they tried to flag her over like Jacob and Gina had. But none of them—neither familiar nor unfamiliar faces—none of them had eyes for her.

They were all looking at the sky. At some intangible spot.

That void between the stars.

The lights started going out. Streetlights went first, cascading from shedding bright light in her rear view mirror until they caught up and overtook her car, all switching off. Then all the decorative Christmas lights, house by house, street by street.

All the lights in the houses went out next. The whole town descended into darkness. The pit in Caroline’s stomach tightened.

What remained were the car’s headlights, casting blinding cones of wavering white onto the snowy road in front of her as she sped down it. Then even those lights went out. Then the tiny lights on her dashboard.

Caroline’s heart thundered, sounding like a whole horde of people pounding against the windows of her car. Drowned out every thought. Her palms grew slick with sweat, robbing her of her grip on the steering wheel.

Dread. That exploded into panic when finally, the stars winked out.

Caroline hit the brakes and almost threw up, feeling the force of inertia as the car skidded to a halt, combined with that very panic, that coppery taste in her mouth, now stronger than ever.

As she gazed into the darkness of the sky where stars once twinkled, daring not to breathe as if the sky itself might hear her, she thought of her dream. Thought she might be Rita, dreaming of being Caroline in this nightmare. Chased, hunted. Prey.

But this was no dream.

And that darkness, she began to understand, it grew. The stars did not just wink out all at once. They flickered—blinked. The sky parted, split in half somewhere. It opened to a void, darker than black. Hungry.

She got out of the car, thinking it would help wake her up. Instead, the chill of wintry air only made things more unpleasant.

People murmured those awful syllables. Or they spoke, or shouted them, and the distance reduced it to muttering in her ears.

The sky had stopped being a sky. It had texture. It moved. It yawned.

A breeze swept over her, but it had nothing in common with wintry air. It was warm and damp. Like breath. But like the breath of something huge, of something monolithic.

Like the sky exhaled upon her. A sigh of exhaustion.

Caroline laughed. Not the kind of laugh that explodes from one’s mouth as a consequence of amusement. The kind that clatters out like a bag of marbles clacking down, spilling out all over the floor. The kind that is shrill, like a knife being whisked over a whetstone.

The kind of laughter that people call crazy.

Though more than anything, Caroline understood now. She understood it all. The puzzle pieces had fallen neatly into place. The awful, unnatural words had wormed their way into her mind, setting root and seeding her thoughts with a clarity not meant for human brains.

Yoz'odhraxz awoke. It was time to feed.

It was that time of year again, and this year, Greenwick was on the menu. Nobody resisted because they had been groomed for this moment all their lives. Frozen behind their masks, nobody screamed.

Not even Caroline.

—Submitted by Wratts

[kshitij1997]

Greetings, people!

Oh, damn I haven't done this in some time.

Well, the life of an engineer is a hectic one and I had written myself into a corner and was blocked for many days as a result. Not anymore. I have decided that I would update this once a week from now on.

We're getting somewhere in this, hopefully you people enjoy it.

All frozen and Tangled characters belong to Disney, all I own is this head-cannon and the original characters.

Let's continue!

Chapter 6: Of children fortunate and not so fortunate

Throughout Europe, the new year was always celebrated with utter pomp and show, what with firecrackers bursting in the city centres and town squares and if there weren't any firecrackers at hand, one could always fire a musket up in the air. Singing, dancing, drunken behaviour, smashing of public property, brawls and general noise. It was comforting to see that even though the major empires were coming up and clawing at each other's throats on a regular basis, nothing would really dampen the typical European spirit even if some drastic changes ever happened.

Which is not to say they didn't have different customs. The Ottoman Sultan for example, would start celebrating three days in advance, binging and drinking while being surrounded by scores of concubines, throwing golden medals and eggs onto the streets for all his citizens to collect. This pious act of charity was ample for the people to forgive the Sultan his misgivings. As for the Tsar, the rumoured massive drinking appetite of the typical Tsar held strong and displayed itself in all its glory during the coming of the new year, singing, jumping on tables, screaming Moktor! a drinking chant he had borrowed from his Arendellian ally, banging a kettle drum while removing his royal tunic and tying it around his forehead, it certainly wasn't a sight the typical Russian nobles would forget easily even as they were busy distributing free beer and bread throughout St. Petersburg. The royal family of the Southern Isles always started as a family dinner but dissolved into everyone getting wasted and threatening to kill each other right then and there. However, for some unexplained reason, they always ended up weeping and caressing each other. One could be forgiven for thinking that it was an Irish wake, unsurprising as the Southern Isles had some sizable Irish ancestry. As for the Duke of Weselton, it was an opium binge, smoking up into the wee hours of the morning. If one made the mistake of asking the duke his plans during such a session, they could be trapped there for the rest of the day and miss the blessed celebrations. Now that his merchants had begun smuggling Marijuana from central America, those plans became more outlandish every passing year as the intoxicant made its way in the duke's habits. The Monarchs of Corona were more chaste and less dramatic in comparison, nevertheless it didn't stop them from holding a quirky national lottery at the end of the year in which save the crown, the state and the Monarchs, nearly everything was for grabs.

It could be a normal brooch, or a kettle, or something outrageous like the ancient Dusseldorf cathedral, or even better, the Munich Palace of Justice. However, short of the royal palace, nothing truly awed the people of Corona as the Mansion, a building so singular and unique in the Rhinelands that it had acquired a legend of its own. How that massive building was built during the earliest crusades in the holy lands, had sheltered thousands of innocents in the mindless massacres which was a hallmark of said crusades, how the same building became a terrible final place for those unfortunates who were accused of witchcraft and found guilty, how said building harboured the Coronian resistance as they battled the Habsburgs for the identity of Corona in the thirty years war. One could see that the Mansion was home to centuries of history both good and bad, a monument to human suffering and human triumph; it was a matter of prestige and honour to those who lived there.

Since the passing of the Patriarch, the Mansion was up for bid for the first time in fifty years. Unfortunately, the Mansion had been burned down, some said it was a careless baker, some said it was a figure as dark as night, yet many believed that it was Flynn Rider, the little boy who cast a gargantuan shadow in all of Rhineland, where some thought he was a hero who avenged someone dear to him and brought down tyranny, while some thought he was a rat bastard, who sold out everyone from his trade to escape the noose and ruined the businesses of the Rhinelands. Ah well, the public could never make up its mind.

Even though the public was upset by the loss of the Mansion, they had to agree that the Monarchs were generally generous in the lottery and accepted the loss with a heavy heart. After all, a cooking pot was much more useful in cooking than an entire monument , no matter how symbolic it was and how brightly it burned into oblivion.

Last but not the least, the kingdom of Arendelle often saw a lot of parades and street performances around that time of the year. Typically the various students who had come from abroad to study would often bring out a procession, banging some drums, beating some cymbals and singing songs in unison in their native languages, becoming a crowd of thousands as they used to go door to door, either offering food and gifts, and inviting those to join them who weren't in severe want. The fact that It always snowed in the final fortnight of the year as if on clockwork never dampened their spirits. The evenings would often see people from all strata of Arendellian society coming together without social barriers. In recent years, the crowds had started becoming rowdier and more rambunctious, but they all settled as the Monarchs addressed them from their pedestal at the Royal Palace, bringing the year to a dignified end and rousing hopes for the new year. The Palace courtyard itself often became a fair ground, with various stalls selling delicacies, trinkets and souvenirs.

Queen Iduna had always enjoyed the fairs at the palace and meeting foreigners in the parades when she was a commoner, and now she loved it even more as she had her husband to share that joy with. It was a common sight to see the royal couple strolling around, meeting the stall owners, trying some exotic foods and relishing them. Now with baby princess Elsa, they had developed a very sweet tooth as well, they had been spoiled for chocolate as the baby girl always went gaga over the sweet. Even though she hadn't yet spoken, by now her parents were well acquainted with sounds of disapproval or enthusiasm coming from her. For example, when Elsa tried to nibble on any sweet, she would always gurgle and moan and form wisps with her tiny fingers, which always succeeded in bringing a smile to the couple's lips. After the exciting parades and stalls of food, the evening had surprisingly become calm as it approached the new year. Princess Elsa had had an active day, and now was sleeping in Queen Iduna's arms in the royal bedroom, her face buried into her mother's bosom.

"I guess Sophia is to take the credit or the blame for this" grinned Agnarr.

"Ha, yes surely. I wouldn't put it past her at all." smiled Iduna "However it's a shame Elsa can't drink the hot chocolate yet. It's getting lonesome drinking it by myself."

"What does that mean? It is OUR drink, right?"

"It was once, but then you got self-conscious about your health and everything." Iduna teased.

"Well, I can't really flaunt my stretch marks for my certification of fatherhood." Agnarr teased back.

"That was rough. Parenthood has changed you for the worse." Iduna laughed after staring at Agnarr for nearly a minute about that comment.

"On the other hand, I think you've become soft, I still remember the day you made the Duke of Weselton shit himself." Agnarr smirked.

"Boo you, I'm with child." Iduna accepted the challenge "I can still drive you around in circles, you know? You remember earlier today, when I made you cook an Artichoke salad for my cravings. Oh god, you were hunched over the damn stove. Good fun. And a story the whole litter would enjoy someday." Iduna finished with a laugh.

"A whole litter? Dammit woman." Agnarr laughed.

"Yeah, better stay in shape." Iduna smirked.

"Alright, I admit defeat. I swear I can still hear the blessed kitchen ladies sniggering." Agnarr backed off "Ah well, another bun hmm?"

"Yes, another bun. Due in early spring, if Dr. Klaus is to be believed."

"I would wager my life under his knife, should the day come." Agnarr said quietly.

"Hush, don't say that." Iduna whispered. "It'll be a new year in a matter of minutes, how can you think of doom at such a precious moment?"

"It's because I know how life can turn out for a lot of people. I tell you Iduna, all things considered we are luckier than most, and I know fate has a way of balancing the scales." Agnarr replied with an inscrutable face natural to kings, but Iduna knew better.

"Look, it's true we have been fortunate. However, we've had our share of suffering as well. We both have lost a lot in order to find each other and come together. You know, I still wake up sometimes looking towards the North, reminiscing what could have been if somehow war didn't break out, and I would have become a herald for the voice, be one with the fifth spirit, who knows? However, I do know that if I hadn't ventured south, I would have never met you. Not to mention the peace we brought together, the people we have allied with, the thousands of opportunities that have opened for the people because we have worked together and a lot more. Sure, we can lament what we were forced to give up, but then we wouldn't have this, and we certainly wouldn't have Elsa." Iduna consoled him.

The king of Arendelle gave a weak smile and continued " That is true, but her abilities do make me nervous. I hope we can mitigate any problems that arise from the fifth spirit's blessing."

"We got some time to figure it out. I know what you're insinuating, no need to say it out loud, anyone could hear us. Look, the key here is proceed carefully, and to make sure she's not afraid of herself. We'll be there every step of the way, and I tell you this, our baby is going to dominate the world." Iduna reassured the king.

"We certainly can't let them do what they did to Rapunzel." Agnarr shuddered at the mere thought of the incident.

"That will certainly not happen, believe me. Elsa's a light sleeper, if anyone other than us dares to take her, she'll shriek and bring the castle down." Iduna tried to ease his worry with some humour.

"Ha, our proud little banshee." Agnarr grinned.

They were interrupted by the fireworks bringing in the new year.

"godt nytt år, Iduna." "godt nytt år, Agnarr." Said the royal couple as they embraced, and Iduna felt Elsa smiling in her sleep.

While Elsa may have been at perfect peace with the world in that moment, another infant was not so lucky.

"Another fucking year gone." Hissed princess Paulina of the former kingdom of Poland, as she tried to rock the five-month-old prince Hans to sleep in his cradle. The baby prince had always had trouble sleeping, but that was to be expected as babies generally need contact to grow properly, however the princess in question didn't believe in it.

"Another year gone to shit, and I am just another windbag for your fucking father, eh kid?" the princess made a point not to join the new year's celebration, citing colic as her cause of worry, but truth be told, she could never tolerate the whole family together at once. She was alone in a strange land, among strange people who didn't think too much of her; Afterall, they had seen many like her come and go over the years. The only joy she found in her life was the one thing or person she could claim to be her own; her infant boy Janus, or Hans as his father preferred to call him.

"Your father professes his love for me, yet betrays me everyday with those loose women that lick his balls all day, his heart condition doesn't flare up then, does it? He doesn't fucking keel over then, does he? Your father promises he'll bring justice to my homeland, and then has the entrails to stab me in the back by sending his fucking lapdogs to participate in the massacre of my poor people?!" She foamed at the mouth. Little did she care that her kid could not console her or understand her yet, her bitter vitriol needed to flow somewhere, and her infant was in the unfortunate way.

"But remember this Janus, someday you will bring glory to all of Warsaw, and bring justice to all of Poland and her murderers." Whispered the princess as she calmed down and reached out to her child. The baby was only too glad for the contact and grabbed it with both hands.

"Good boy" whispered the princess with a smile to her fateful son, but the smile disappeared as she remembered what she had set out to do. The sheer memory of her father's murder by the Russians' firing squad as her family's ancestral home of over three hundred years burned to nothing, made her blood boil to vapour. But she knew better than to make a public display of her misery. No, she would wait, and hold fast as her fateful kid would hopefully bring Europe to heel one day. But for that to happen, the child needed toughening up and foolish superstitions and fancies like love and family had to be quelled before they did any damage to her 'chieftest pearl'. She pulled her hand away from Janus and walked to the window, not caring that the baby prince had started wailing loudly.

"Great, let it out, it's just pain and anguish leaving you, little prince of destiny." Whispered the now inscrutable princess as she witnessed the coming of the new year fireworks and chants from her dark little room.

"Godt nytår, Janus."

More than 900 miles away, a craven boyish figure on a horse had nearly crossed the borders of Corona into France as he approached the city of Alsace, when he decided to take refuge into the chapel two miles ahead of him. The new year celebrations had long ended and everyone had fallen asleep, save for the priest in the chapel. Eugene walked up lead footed and tired from the expedition up to the chapel doors and then he knocked on the door.

The priest opened the door silently and saw the gruff boy and took him in at once. Now, Eugene's week-long ordeal had exhausted him, and anything he could beg for was enough to feed only either him or his horse. More often than not, Eugene chose to feed the worn-out horse. But now, finally some good shelter for both the horse and Rider.

"Comment tu t'appelle?" the priest asked in a language Eugene didn't fully understand. When the priest didn't receive any answer that he could expect, he got up and peaked outside in the direction from which the little boy had ridden in.

"Tu parle Francais? Parlez-vous allemand?" The priest asked.

"Je parle allemand." Eugene replied in the little broken French that he knew.

"Ah, Deutsch." Replied the priest. Then he went in, brought a spare change of clothes and some bread and stew left from the celebration, and a quilt and mattress for the little boy.

"Essen, mein Kind" spoke the priest as her made the bed.

As Eugene bit into the bread, he couldn't hold back any longer, and burst into tears.

The priest patiently waited for him to calm down, then asked him in German "What's your name?"

"Flynn" the kid replied, his voice still raw from sobbing.

"You are far from home, aren't you?"

"I don't have a home, not anymore."

"What happened to your home, your family?"

"It got burnt down, I tried to get help, but it was too late." Flynn lied, fearing what could happen if he answered honestly.

The priest replied "It's alright, my child. Please rest now, you may stay on or leave in the morning if you wish."

"Danke, Vater" Flynn said.

"Frohes neues Jahr, mein Sohn. And don't worry, your horse is safe." The priest smiled and said quietly.

Well, it was a different tempo for me in this chapter, trying to show one day from a lot of different perspectives. I'll just say poor Hans for now.

As always, constructive feedback is always welcome.

[lilyvandersteen]

Out of the Blue: Chapter 4

Cover art: @redheadgleek​

Beta extraordinaire: @hkvoyage​

Links: AO3, FF.net

Author’s Note:

Snarky Kurt is coming out to play... Ooh, Blaine, you picked the wrong person to anger!

Chapter 4: Called Out

“There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.”

(An excerpt from Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen)

Kurt was quick to welcome their guest of honor, who’d apparently brought his BROTHER to the wedding -hmm… Did that mean he was single at the moment?

One quick look confirmed that Mr. Anderson was still the handsomest man in all of North America. And if the rumors were true, he dated men as well as women, so Kurt actually stood a chance with him. Therefore, he made sure to mention he was single and very available while bringing him to the brides and officially introducing them.

Kurt adjusted his cravat and checked his coif while Mr. Anderson was congratulating the brides, and then graciously accepted Mr. Anderson’s praise of the decorations as he steered him up the fire escape and towards the circle of chairs they’d set up for the ceremony.

“It’s going to be pretty informal, as you can tell,” Kurt said, “Santana didn’t want to make a big production of it. Wanted nothing stiff or formulaic. That’s just not them.”

Mr. Anderson grinned. “I’ll like it all the better for that.”

Kurt shot him a quick smile and dashed off to Elliott to tell him to start the ceremony, sent Rachel over to Artie for the procession song, warned Tina to start taking pictures and then told bridesmaids Mercedes and Quinn as well as Britt and San to walk to their assigned spot.

As Rachel sang “The First Time I Saw Your Face”, the brides walked into the circle hand in hand and smiling – Brittany widely and Santana tremulously. Tina’s camera shutter clicked at a fierce pace, and Kurt stood there taking it all in for a moment, his throat thick with emotion.

Then he jumped back into action, taking the ring box out of his inside pocket and tying the rings around the necks of Lord and Lady Tubbington. Carrying their basket, he moved to stand next to Elliott.

Brittany and Santana’s vows made Kurt tear up, and by the many sniffles in the audience, he knew he wasn’t the only one affected.

Thankfully, the cats were as good as gold and stayed put throughout the ceremony, and when the right moment came, he held out Lady Tubbington to San for Brittany’s ring and Lord Tubbington to Britt for Santana’s ring.

After taking the ring off of his neck, Britt pulled Lord Tubbington closer and kissed his head.

“Oh, was that supposed to be the groom?” Elliott quipped. “Then we’ll need to start over!”

The terrace rang with laughter, and Lord Tubbington wriggled out of Kurt’s arms and fled. Lady Tubbington followed suit, but seeing as their task was fulfilled, it didn’t matter much.

As soon as Brittany and Santana had shared their first kiss as wives, to loud applause, Kurt gestured to Rachel to follow him to the kitchen, where they arranged champagne glasses on trays and filled them with an excellent spumante Kurt had found in Little Italy. Kurt got out the first batch of hors d’oeuvres, too, and they went around the terrace with their offerings.

Mr. Billionaire Anderson did not seem snobbish in the least, eating Kurt’s finger food with relish and complimenting him on the spumante, even asking to write down its name and where he got it.

When Kurt brought out his masterpiece, a three-tiered wedding cake decorated with rainbows and unicorns, as per Brittany’s request, Mr. Anderson whooped and hollered the loudest of them all, and his moan when he started eating cake made the tips of Kurt’s ears redden. He left only crumbs on his plate, and clamored for seconds, which Kurt hurried to give him, beaming.

                        Now that everyone was on their second piece of cake, Kurt took a minute to eat something himself. There wasn’t much left of the hors d’oeuvres, but what there was, Kurt decimated in seconds, and he ate one of the marzipan unicorns as dessert.

He took a glass of spumante to wash everything down in style, and surveyed the party with satisfaction. Yes, he had done it once again. The wedding was a resounding success. Now there was only the first dance to go, but that was up to Britt and San themselves.

Kurt made another round to fill up the guests’ glasses again, and then told the brides to get ready for their dance, Mercedes and Artie to sing, and Tina to catch all the magical moments on camera.

“Oh, I LOVE this part!” Rachel whispered loudly in his ear as she wound her arms around his waist.

Kurt kissed her head and hugged her back as they both watched their friends shine in their first dance.

“Look how happy they are,” Rachel sniffled. “Ah, this is amazing!”

“It is,” Kurt agreed. “Worth all the work and then some.”

“True. Though I’m going to dance a bit before I start on clean-up duty.”

“All right, then. Off you go, Miss Berry! But you will help me later!”

Laughing at her grimace, he pushed her towards the dance floor and then picked up the cake tray to wrap up what was left and put it in the fridge.

The party went on, and his friends took turns claiming the microphone for a song, until Santana took it to give a speech, thanking her wife for her promise of forever, thanking the guests for coming to witness their union, and thanking Kurt nicely for all his work organizing the wedding. He sent her an air kiss, and she half-laughed, half-sobbed, overcome with emotion.

He’d just stepped towards San to give her a hug when another voice piped up. Mr. Anderson’s brother. And for some reason, he was LIVID, accusing Britt and San of faking a wedding to swindle his brother out of an expensive gift, seeing as their family wasn’t even there, ranting and raving at the fake brides for taking advantage of his brother that way, and taking advantage of their friend to organize the whole event, too. He dissed all of Kurt’s careful wedding planning and hard work, pronouncing everything too cheap for an actual wedding.

Brittany shrank away from the venom in the guy’s voice, and even Santana seemed tongue-tied for a moment. The rest of Kurt’s friends, who had all been dancing and laughing a minute ago, now stood staring at the younger Mr. Anderson in shocked silence.

Kurt, however, felt his hackles rise. No way was this guy going to ruin everything at the eleventh hour. No way!

He fixed the man with a glare and gritted out, “Way to make snap judgments, Mr. Snob! For your information, Santana’s family is homophobic. As in, they don’t approve of her choice of spouse. They threw her out when she told them she was in love with Brittany, and are still expecting her to come to her senses and marry a man. Santana was crying this morning because her abuela wasn’t going to attend her wedding, so thank you very much for opening that wound again.”

The Andersons’ eyes flitted to Santana, who swallowed with difficulty and looked down. Brittany put her head on Santana’s shoulder and squeezed her hand in sympathy.

“And Brittany’s parents told her only last week that they’re getting a divorce,” Kurt continued. “She was so mad at them that she uninvited them to the wedding. And she’s the only child of two only children, and her grandparents are dead, so no other family. Any more questions?”

Mr. Snob rubbed his hand over his neck, his animosity all but gone. “I guess… I guess I just don’t see why people would tie the knot when they’re only twenty years old. That’s something for when you’re settled, not when you’re barely starting out.”

Kurt chuckled. “Believe me, I told them exactly the same thing when they came to me and asked if I’d plan their wedding. But they said they were sure of each other, and they didn’t want to wait. So I agreed, and made it as fabulous a small, low-budget wedding as I possibly could.”

“You did a wonderful job!” Mr. Anderson boomed, clapping Kurt on the shoulder. “This place looks like a dream, the brides are gorgeous, the ceremony was perfect, the music is lit, and I never had better hors d’oeuvres in my life. And the wedding cake! Beautiful AND scrumptious! If you ever plan a wedding again, do invite me, will you?”

Other guests chimed in with praise for Kurt as well, and soon they were all laughing and chatting and dancing again.

Kurt sent Mr. Anderson a small smile, grateful to him for defusing the tension, and then focused on Mr. Snob again. “Your assessment of me was spot-on, though, bravo. Yes, I’m the pathetic single gay who lives vicariously through his friends. Yes, I’d rather focus on their romance than fail at it myself. So far I’ve planned a wedding for my father and stepmother, for my show choir teacher and the school counselor, and now for Santana and Brittany. Because it made me happy to see them happy. And maybe that makes me a silly romantic, but it’s certainly better than thinking yourself far above anyone and being sarcastic and mean.”

Mr. Snob bit his lip and lowered his eyes for a moment, then looked Kurt straight in the eye and said, “You’re right. I was in a bad mood, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on all of you. I’m sorry.”

Kurt nodded coolly. “Apology accepted.”

Mr. Anderson put his arm around Kurt’s shoulder. “Do you know, I wouldn’t even have cared if this wedding were fake! Blaine can say what he wants, but you throw a damn good party, worth every cent of the gifts we brought! So, I’m serious, any event you’re planning in the future, send me word of it and I’ll be there.”

Kurt smiled wider at him this time. “I promise I will.”

Then he leaned in and whispered into Mr. Anderson’s ear, “And if you want to help things along, encourage Sam to propose to Mercedes. He’s been thinking and talking about it for ages, but he never makes a move. They’re over there, both of them.”

Kurt surreptitiously pointed to Sam and Mercedes so that Mr. Anderson would know whom he was talking about.

Mr. Anderson winked at Kurt and whispered back, “On it!” He sauntered back to the dance floor, bowed for Mercedes and swept her away in a quickstep.

Sam, who’d been dancing with his girlfriend until Mr. Anderson cut in, glared at his perceived rival.

Kurt grinned, and granted Mr. Snob (Blaine, apparently) only the merest glance before turning his back on him and starting to collect empty glasses and plates to take them to the kitchen. The guy was back to looking sullen, but Kurt didn’t give a hoot about that. He could sulk the whole night through, as far as Kurt was concerned.

Only, he didn’t. On his second run to the kitchen, laden with plates and trays, Kurt felt a presence behind him, and suddenly, his load was a lot lighter. Blaine had taken half of the stack and was carrying it to the sink.

“Where’s your dishwasher?” Blaine asked.

Kurt snorted. “None of that here. We wash up by hand. And by that I mean I wash up, nine times out of ten. The girls only help out when I force them to.”

“I’ll help,” Blaine offered.

Kurt quirked an eyebrow at him. “You’re a guest. The snooty kind that finds fault with every detail of the wedding I planned. Why on earth would you help me out now?”

Blaine had the grace to blush. “Hey, I said I was sorry. I was out of line, and I’m trying to make up for it. Throw me a bone, would you?”

Kurt stared at him until he started to squirm, and only then did he say, “All right, then. You wash, I’ll dry.”

They worked together in companionable silence, Blaine softly singing to himself as he scrubbed and rinsed. Meanwhile, the party petered out around them, and one by one, Kurt’s friends said their goodbyes and left.

Once the dishes were done, Kurt thanked his helper and offered him another piece of wedding cake as a reward. They sat down on the sofa and ate their cake.

Kurt felt his eyes droop, and hoped he wouldn’t have to stay up much longer. He wanted to lie down and sleep for a week on end.

He woke abruptly, because he got jostled and his head lost its comfortable pillow all of a sudden.

“Uhm, wha?” said a voice very close to him.

Kurt blinked his eyes open and found that he had fallen asleep against Blaine, who had dozed off too, if his slow reaction and slurring speech were any indication.

“You coming, squirt?”

“Don’t call me squirt,” Blaine snapped, rubbing his eyes like a five-year-old.

“Aw, Blainey, why are you still tetchy? You just got to spend some time alone with a gorgeous guy.”

Blaine rolled his eyes. “Washing the dishes.”

“You know what Nana used to say.”

“Yeah. ‘Share your life with someone you like doing chores with.’”

“And did you like it?”

Blaine blushed and lowered his eyes. Oh, wow, he had beautiful long lashes. In his own way, he was quite as handsome as his brother. While washing the dishes, he’d been singing under his breath, and his voice was lovely. And he’d washed the dishes efficiently and without complaint. Pity he was such a curmudgeon.

Mr. Anderson waggled his eyebrows until Blaine let out a plaintive “Cooooop!!”

“Blaaaaaaaine!!”

“Okay, let’s go before you embarrass me even more. And keep it down, will you. Don’t wake Kurt. He must be exhausted.”

Blaine’s eyes swept from Coop to Kurt, and he visibly started when he saw that Kurt had woken up.

“Too late for that,” Kurt drawled, sitting up. “But I can always go right back to sleep.”

Blaine looked shocked. “You don’t want to move to your bed?”

Kurt shook his head. “Nope. Whenever Britt stays over, she and San get my bed, and I sleep on the sofa. Usually, San sleeps here, but it doesn’t fit two people. When Britt stops touring with Mercedes, San and Britt will look for their own place, but for now, this works.”

Blaine bit his lip. “You know sleeping on a sofa is bad for your back, right?”

“Oh yeah. I don’t know how San has dealt with it for so long. One night here and I’m stiff and aching all over for a week.”

“So why don’t you buy an extra bed? Or at least a decent sofa bed?”

Kurt shrugged. “It’s on the list.”

“What list?”

“The list of things we need to save up for.”

Blaine raised an eyebrow. “Why did you ask for a 25K pet pavilion for your cats as a wedding gift when you can’t even afford decent beds for yourself?”

There he went again, Sir Judgy McJudge-a-Lot! He did have a point, though.

Kurt grimaced. “The cat stuff was all Brittany’s idea. We should never have let her compile the registry. We didn’t notice what kind of silly stuff she’d asked for until after your brother had bought the pet pavilion. It’s a stupid waste of money, I quite agree. If you’d like your money back, you can cancel that gift. Please do. We’ve been feeling awful about it.”

Wasn’t that the truth…

Blaine seemed slightly mollified, but still continued his questioning. “Also, if you have no money for something as basic as a bed, where did you get the dough to plan a wedding?”

Kurt flushed. Rude much? “I did a lot of it myself. I also called in a lot of favors, and borrowed stuff. And we all worked extra shifts.”

Blaine nodded, seemingly accepting this explanation. Insufferable snob!

“Well, you did a wonderful job!” Mr. Anderson boomed. “I had a splendid time, so thank you very much! And Brittany can keep the pavilion for her lovely cats. Don’t you worry your pretty heads about that!”

Kurt got up from the sofa and shook hands with Mr. Anderson. “Mr. Anderson, thank you for coming.”

“Oh, please call me Cooper. Or Coop for short. I hope to see you again soon for another party. And it’s ME who should thank YOU!”

Kurt smiled at Cooper, and then turned to Blaine. “Thank you for helping with the dishes.”

“It was my pleasure,” Blaine assured him. “And sorry again for my rant earlier. I was wrong.”

His earnestly repentant face made Kurt feel a bit guilty.

The brothers left with a smile and a wave. Kurt pulled at the heavy door to close it and then sank down against it, whispering, “You weren’t, though. You were absolutely right. We did it all for the presents.”

[dwindledglow]

001. MEET GREYSON

FULL NAME: greyson dominic northwood. PREFERRED NAME: greyson. NICKNAME/S: grey, g and north. DATE OF BIRTH: august 29th, 1992. GENDER & PRONOUNS: cis male & he/his. ORIENTATION: hetero. RELIGION: agnostic. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: married to leticia northwood. OCCUPATION: recording artist, music producer, model and entrepreneur. RESIDENCE: in between soho, new york city and quogue, suffolk county.

002. CHECK GREYSON’S BACKGROUND

HOMETOWN: harlem, new york city, united states of america. NATIONALITY: american. ETHNIC BACKGROUND: afro-barbadian. LINGUISTICS: english which is his native language and spanish and french in a fluent level. EDUCATION: he has graduated from high-school. CRIMINAL RECORD: clean. BIRTH ORDER: second. FATHER: vince josiah northwood, born on march 3rd, 1966 in atlanta, georgia, currently residing in tribeca, new york city. he owns a couple bars in the different boroughs and neighborhoods and, still, works as a bartender on his first-bought bar in harlem. MOTHER: narissa gabrielle knowles, born on november 22nd, 1967 in houston, texas, currently residing in tribeca, new york city. she’s the owner of a cosmetology and skincare clinic, and does occasional work as a beautician. SISTER/S: naomi lenora nortwhood, born on october 6th, 1989 in harlem, new york, currently residing in los angeles, california and working as a neurosurgeon at UCLA medical center. gianna makayla northwood, born on june 18th, 1994 in harlem, new york, currently residing in rome, italy and working as a marketing and communications specialist for fendi. neah gabrielle northwood, born on february 26th, 1998 in harlem, new york, currently residing in los angeles, california where she attends UCLA school of theatre, film and television and studies to become an actress. BROTHER/S: jason malik northwood, born on may 22nd, 2004 in tribeca, new york where he still resides and studies. SIGNIFICANT OTHER: leticia northwood, née evans. CHILDREN: koda brooklyn northwood, born on january 1st, 2019 in southampton, new york and romi noor northwood, born on january 1st, 2019 in southampton, new york. OTHER RELEVANT FAMILY: trai smith, naomi’s husband thus brother-in-law. anikah lenora smith, naomi and trai’s daughter, niece. aaliyah ranee smith, naomi and trai’s daughter, niece. EX/ES: rita sisay and olivia laurent. PETS: coco maki, a chow chow, snoop and peaches, two bunnies.

003. GET UP CLOSE & PERSONAL

HEIGHT: 6′3″ or 193 cm. WEIGHT: between 178 lbs or 81 kg and 188 lbs or 85 kg. BODY BUILD: he’s slender, with an average weight for his height. despite not being too strict when it comes to diets or workout routines, greyson doesn’t have many issues keeping his average weight. he’s not lanky or overly slim, but he’s not out of shape either – he has a toned stomach and legs, and he has muscular arms. EYE COLOR: dark brown, depending on the lighting and weather their shade seems to vary from an earthy, coppery brown to black. EYESIGHT: his eyesight is impeccable, he has no vision-related issues so far HAIR COLOR & STYLE: if greyson was to leave his hair be and didn’t style it, he’d have a huge curly mess to deal with. on a daily basis, he keeps his hair braided into sections, tying the majority of the braids into a ponytail while leaving some of them loose. if he’s in the mood to change it up, he goes for two cornrows and if he really can’t be bothered with his hair, he’ll just braid it and leave it at that. that is, when his hair is as lengthy as it is now. when he cuts his hair and has it a little bit shorter than he has now, he either goes for center-parted cornrows or he just gets someone to braid his hair and ties it in a small ponytail. DOMINANT HAND: right. NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS: his million-dollar smile has swiftly become his trademark, as well as his braided hair, and often those are the two thing people immediately notice. in an alike manner, some seem to notice his pristine skin, others tend to be distracted by his towering frame. amongst many other, those are perhaps his most notable traits. SCARS AND MARKS: here's a noticeable scar on his left cheek and a couple more scattered throughout his body as a result of every day's life. other than those, there's a birthmark on the inside of his left wrist and the occasional mole here and there. TATTOOS: he does have some ; he has ALT tattooed behind his ear which is the name of his first EP, the one that catapulted his career, and he has the word YLOHNU ( unholy backwards ) tattooed on the outer side of his left wrist. on the inside of his left arm, positioned where it’d be considered the inside of the elbow, he has LONDON and NEW YORK in uppercase, forming an upper arch, and forming a lower arch, he has TOKYO and LOS ANGELES also in uppercase - the four main cities that helped with him get where he is today. along his right hipbone, he has off the maps no hidden grids, i’m fleeing which was taken out of one of his songs from his latest album and is one of his favorite lyrics he ever wrote/sung. he has a blacklight tattoo saying i solemnly swear that i’m up to no good along with some footsteps on the inside of his right wrist. in white ink, and below his left pectoral, he has neah’s heartbeat and on his left ankle he has a small compass tattoo pointing north. on the side of his index finger from his right hand, he has a small rose ( his mother’s favorite flower ) and on the inside of his left wrist, he has VENI. VIDI. VICI. tattooed in uppercase. on his ring finger, he has the coordinates to where he and leticia got married tattooed in bold font. on very small scale/font, he has the quote i can be changed by what happens to me but i refuse to be reduced by it split in three parts on the right side of his ribcage. more recently, he has gotten XIII VIII MCMXVC - leticia’s birth date - tattooed alongside his left collarbone. besides that, there’s a KBN and a RNN - koda’s and romi’s initials respectively - micro-tattooed on his pressure point, just below his ear. PIERCINGS: he has a piercing on his left regular lobe. VOICECLAIM: asap rocky. ACCENT & INTENSITY: despite all the traveling around the world and residing in various locations over the past few years, greyson was born and raised in new york and his accent has remained intact all throughout. that being said, he has a really intense new york accent. ALLERGIES: apples, dust mite and he’s lactose intolerant. PHOBIAS & FEARS: losing himself. MENTAL & PHYSICAL ILLNESSES: none so far. ALCOHOL USE: socially, usually not to a point where he’s hammered. SMOKING: yes, mainly in situations of extreme stress. NARCOTICS USE: in the beginning of his career, greyson used to do lsd and lean but he has quit it a good while ago. these days, and mainly when he’s going through the creative process or looking to unwind, he does smoke weed. INDULGENT FOOD: on the rare. SPLURGE SPENDING: yes, occasionally. GAMBLING: no, never.

004. DIG DEEPER

CAN THEY DRIVE? yes, he can drive. CAN THEY COOK & BAKE? yes and not much. he can bake simple things but he can’t do any intricate dessert or cake or anything. CAN THEY CHANGE A FLAT TIRE? yes. CAN THEY TIE A TIE? yes. CAN THEY SWIM? yes. CAN THEY RIDE A BICYCLE? yes. CAN THEY JUMP START A CAR? yes. CAN THEY BRAID HAIR? no. CAN THEY PICK A LOCK? yes. EXTROVERTED OR INTROVERTED? extroverted. DISORGANIZED OR ORGANIZED? organized. CLOSE OR OPEN MINDED? open minded. CALM OR ANXIOUS? calm. PATIENT OR IMPATIENT? in between. OUTSPOKEN OR RESERVED? outspoken. LEADER OR FOLLOWER? leader. OPTIMISTIC OR PESSIMISTIC? optimistic. TRADITIONAL OR MODERN? modern. HARD-WORKING OR LAZY? hard-working. CULTURED OR UNCULTURED? cultured. LOYAL OR DISLOYAL? loyal. FAITHFUL OR UNFAITHFUL? faithful. NIGHT OWL OR EARLY BIRD? night owl. HEAVY OR LIGHT SLEEPER? light sleeper. COFFEE OR TEA? coffee. DAY OR NIGHT? night. TAKING BATHS OR SHOWERS? showers. COCA COLA OR PEPSI? coca-cola. CATS OR DOGS? dogs. NETFLIX OR CINEMA? cinema. SHOWS OR MOVIES? movies. LAPTOP OR GAMING CONSOLE? both. HEALTHY OR JUNK FOOD? healthy food. ICE CREAM OR FROZEN YOGURT? ice cream. PIZZA OR HAMBURGER? pizza. LOLLIPOPS OR GUMMY WORMS? gummy worms. BEACH OR POOL? beach. SNOWBALLS FIGHTING OR ICESKATING? snowballs fighting. LITERATURE OR SCIENCE? literature. HISTORY OR ART? art. CHOCOLATE BARS OR COTTON CANDY? cotton candy. XBOX OR PLAYSTATION? playstation. FACE-TO-FACE OR PHONE INTERACTIONS? face-to-face interactions. DRAMA OR SCI-FI? sci-fi. HORROR OR COMEDY? both.

005. GREYSON’S FAVORITES

FAVORITE ACTIVITY: song-writing, singing, recording... the whole process about making a song. FAVORITE ANIMAL: jaguar. FAVORITE BOOK: so far, greyson has no favorite book FAVORITE COLOR/S: grey. FAVORITE CUISINE: chinese, japanese, indian and thai. FAVORITE DISH/ES: chow mein, thai fried rice, phat khing, sashimi, panipura and kung pao chicken. FAVORITE DRINK/S: mint and ginger lemonade and vodka tonic. FAVORITE FLOWER/S: magnolia and cherry blossom FAVORITE GEM: aquamarine. FAVORITE MOVIE: hidden figures by theodore melfi. FAVORITE SONG: DNA. by kendrick lamar. FAVORITE SCENT/S: the scent of the rain, coconut, popcorn and melted chocolate. FAVORITE SHOW/S: he doesn’t have much time to keep up with television shows so he doesn’t have a favorite one. FAVORITE SPORT/S & TEAM THEY SUPPORT: basketball, he supports houston rockets and brooklyn nets, baseball, he supports new york yankees, and american football, he supports new york giants. FAVORITE SEASON OF THE YEAR: spring. VACATION DESTINATION: bagan, myanmar, hokkaido, japan and panjin, china.

[fanforthefics]

#40, either tyson/gabe or sid/geno would be lovely (all of your fics are so good with big conflict that ends with a happy ending)

exes meeting again after not speaking for years au

“Oh shit,” Tyson says, loudly, grabbing Colin’s arm. “Oh shit oh shit oh shit.” 

Colin looks down at Tyson’s sudden death grip on his forearm. Putting aside the fact that Tysons’ strong enough that it hurts, up until right now he’d thought Tyson was having a good time at this party. He’d been having a good time at the party--he likes house parties, like the easy, casual intimacy. Tyson likes house parties too, but Tyson likes all parties. 

“What’s up?” Colin asks. Tyson does not appear to have spilled his drink or injured himself, which is a minor miracle in itself. But his face is very white, in a way that makes Colin think this might actually be serious, not one of Tyson’s antics. “Are you okay?” 

“No.” Tyson takes a gulp of the brightly colored drink in his glass. “No, I’m--that.” He jerks his head across the room, at where a bunch of people are standing in conversation, including a tall blonde man. “That’s Gabe.” 

“Gabe?” Colin echoes. “Your Gabe?” 

Tyson’s face, always so expressive, twists. “Not my Gabe, but. That Gabe.” 

Colin manages to keep his mouth shut only by great effort of will. He wasn’t here for Gabe, but even though he met Tyson a good six months after Gabe broke up with Tyson and went back to Sweden,  he still feels like he was there for the aftermath. At least Nate said it was the aftermath--Tyson’s reckless rebounding, his throwing himself into relationship after relationship like he was trying to prove something, the way his laugh went too loud and thin. Even now, two years later, there are still times when Tyson gets drunk and starts muttering things about how could he just leave like that, without even thinking about whether their relationship was worth staying for. 

Colin is probably staring. “I thought he was in Sweden?” he asks. 

“So did fucking I,” Tyson spits. He takes another drink. “Fuck, we can--I can’t do this, Willy, why the fuck is he here?” 

“We’ll leave,” Colin decides. If Tyson can’t do this, they’ll go home. 

Except then-- “Tyson!” someone yells, and Tyson looks up to see who it is, and Colin can see Gabe jerk and turn too, and then he sees Gabe’s eyes widen sa he sees Tyson. 

“Who was--” 

“He’s coming over,” Colin warns, cutting Tyson off. Tyson goes even paler. 

“Fuck, he--of course he fucking is. How’s my hair? No, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. I--” 

“Hi, Tyson.” Gabe’s voice is softer than Colin had expected, somehow. But he is just as handsome as Tyson said. Colin had always assumed Tyson was just exaggerating, as he tended to, when he waxed drunkenly on about him, but no, that was real. 

“Gabe.” Tyson nods. He’s clearly trying to sound dignified, but his voice is higher-pitched than normal. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

“Yeah, well. It is EJ’s party, so--” 

“I meant in North America,” Tyson snaps, cutting him off. “How long are you visiting for? A quick fly by just to remind all of us mere mortals that you’re still more handsome than anyone else and that we can’t dream of reaching those heights?”

A smile flickers on Gabe’s lips. He’s still staring at Tyson, and Colin would be wondering about that look a lot more if Tyson’s knuckles weren’t worryingly white on his cup. “Um, actually. I’ve moved back.” 

Tyson actually rocks back on his heels. Colin reaches out to steady him--knowing Tyson he’d manage to injure himself here. Gabe’s eyes dart down to Colin’s hand on Tyson’s arm. Colin doesn’t move it--Tyson needs someone in his corner. 

“You’ve moved back?” Tyson echoes. He’s getting louder. “You just--you moved back?” 

“Yeah.” Gabe nods. He glances at Colin again. “Are you going to introduce me?” he asks, teasing, a little chiding. Colin knows his friend well enough to know it’s the kind of thing Tyson would be into, if it wasn’t from this man. Or maybe especially because it’s this man. 

Tyson must know it too, because he leans a little closer to Colin. “Yes. Colin, this is Gabe. Gabe, this is Colin.” Tyson glances up at Colin, and he has that look in his eyes--the reckless, self-deprecating thing he gets when he does something entirely stupid with himself, because Tyson is careful with everyone but himself. “My boyfriend.” 

Gabe visibly startles. Colin hopes he doesn’t too, looking back at Tyson--Tyson just looks at him. It is undeniably a horrible idea. But--Colin likes to think he’s a good friend, and Tyson in the right mood is impossible to say no too. Nate calls it a super power, sometimes. And Colin really doesn’t like how startled Gabe looks, like he hadn’t considered that Tyson might find someone else. 

And mostly--Tyson’s hurting. Colin doesn’t like his friends to hurt. So, 

“Hi,” he says, holding out the hand not on Tyson’s arm to Gabe. “Colin Wilson. Nice to meet you.”  

“Gabe Landeskog.” Gabe holds out a hand, shakes. It’s...definitely more forceful a shake than someone meeting at a party would need to give. “So how long has this been going on?” he asks. He doesn’t say it was nice to meet Colin, Colin can’t help but tell. 

“I--” Colin starts, trying to figure out a believable lie, but Tyson takes over. 

“Don’t see how that’s any of your business,” he finishes, and defiantly leans against Colin’s shoulder. “You made it very clear that it wasn’t.” 

“Tys--” Gabe reaches out a hand, then stops it. Glances at Colin. “Tyson. That’s not what I--” 

“If you say anything along the lines of it wasn’t you, it was me, I’m going to start screaming,” Tyson warns. “I know that you like scenes, but you won’t like this one. You know how loudly I can scream.” 

Colin bites back his smile. Gabe’s face goes through a number of contortions between hurt and smiling. Tyson hears it, then shrugs and doesn’t react. 

Gabe lands on a weak smile. “Noted,” he says. He rocks onto his heels, then back. “I--it was good to see you, Tys. You’re looking good.” 

He says it earnestly, honestly. Tyson goes red, glances away. “Yes, you’re looking good too, you always somehow manage to look better, we know.” He’s hanging on to Colin for dear life now, and Colin wraps an arm around his shoulders. Gabe’s gaze narrows in on it. “Um. But you know, I’ve traded up with blonde bombshells, so.” 

Gabe’s offended face would be pretty funny in another circumstance. Colin would even feel flattered, in another circumstance. 

As it is, though, Gabe draws himself up. “Right,” he says, stiffly. “I, um. I’ll let you get back to it, then. You and your boyfriend.” He makes a motion at jerking his head in Colin’s direction, then gives Tyson a very different kind of smile, then backs away. 

As soon as he’s out of sight, Tyson slumps over. “Fuck,” he mutters into his hands. “Fuck, he fucking--he just came back? After giving up--fuck,” he says again, and lifts up his head. He’s biting hard at his lip. “I--thanks, bud. You’re a lifesaver, I know it’s such a move, but I couldn’t--you saw him, I needed something to win, and like, going out with you would be a winner move, so I made a play.” 

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t any skin off of Colin’s back. “But--do you want to leave?” 

“I don’t want him to drive me away,” Tyson retorts. “I--this is my friends’ party too. I should get to stay. I shouldn’t--god, I shouldn’t care so much, it’s been two years, I shouldn’t...” he shakes his head. “I don’t want to still be in love with him,” he mutters, still plaintive, too honest in the way Tyson can be, in the way that always makes Colin want to hug him. 

So he does, because Tyson looks like he needs a hug. He acts like it too, leaning into Colin’s arms. From over Tyson’s shoulder, Colin can see Gabe eying them, his brows furrowed. 

Finally, Tyson wiggles like he needs to be let go, because he loves physical contact until he doesn’t, and Colin does. Tyson’s eyes are a little red, but he looks okay. “Thanks,” he says, too his hands, because there are other things Tyson can’t be honest about. 

Colin shrugs. “Whatever you need, bud.” 

“Dangerous,” Tyson replies, with a weak try at his usual flirtatious grin. It fades quickly. “I--I need to call Nate. I’ll just be...” he gestures at the door out to the patio. Colin nods, and hugs him again quickly before letting him go. Being good friends with Tyson means accepting that Nate will always be better friends with him, but it’s fine. Him going means Colin doesn’t feel entirely guilty chatting with other friends, though he keeps an eye on the door Tyson went out of, where he can still see him on the phone, and one on Gabe, to make sure he doesn’t go out after him. 

Half an hour later, Colin needs another drink, and figures he should probably make sure Tyson’s okay. Getting him more drunk is probably the wrong choice, but he still goes to the kitchen to mix him another drink. 

He’s gotten himself a beer, and is surveying the alcohol to decide what to make Tyson, when behind him comes a very snippy, “Tyson doesn’t like tequila.” 

“Hm?” Colin turns. Gabe is standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his slightly puffed-out chest. 

“Tyson doesn’t like tequila. He says he does but it gives him a headache. He’d rather have vodka.” 

Colin honestly doesn’t remember that, but he doesn’t have any reason to think Gabe is wrong, other than the way Gabe’s glaring. It’s rather a lot. “Okay,” Colin agrees, and reaches for the vodka. 

“He likes vodka cranberries,” Gabe informs him. He sounds smug, like knowing that when Colin doesn’t means he won. “Or vodka tonics in a pinch, but he’d rather the cranberries. Not a coke.” 

“Okay,” Colin says again. He mixes a vodka cranberry, Gabe eying him the whole time. 

“And why isn’t he here?” Gabe demands. “Did you just leave him alone? He doesn’t like being alone.” 

“I know that,” Colin chuckles. He thinks everyone knows that. 

Gabe clearly doesn’t take the chuckle well. “Then why aren’t you outside with him?” he demands again. 

“Because he’s on the phone with Nate,” Colin tells Gabe. He can’t imagine that friendship was different before. And Gabe’s lips do twitch. “I know better than to try to get in between that.” 

“Good.” Gabe’s still glaring. Colin waits. He doesn’t owe Gabe anything. And the longer Gabe’s in here, the longer he’s not outside making Tyson go pale.

It takes a few minutes, but finally, Gabe takes a step forward. They’re about the same height, which Gabe doesn’t seem pleased by; he’s got the air of someone who’s good at talking down to people. Colin keeps waiting. 

Gabe lets out a sharp, angry breath. “You better treat him well,” he spits at him. “Not just well. You better keep him--incandescently happy.”

Colin raises his eyebrows. “I thought Tyson made it clear that you didn’t get a say in that,” he points out. 

“I don’t care. I know I don’t get a say, because I was an idiot two years ago and gave up the best thing--” he cuts himself off, but Colin has the time to see his face now. To see the pain across it, pain he recognizes, from too many nights of Tyson staring into a glass, seeing someone else. “But I still--if you fuck this up, if you fuck him up, I’m going to--I know I missed my chance, and that’s--it is what it is, but I’ll still fuck you up if he’s not happy.” 

Colin’s tolerance for dramatics has gone up since befriending Tyson, but it will never be that high. And this is stupid. 

“I’m not his boyfriend,” he says. Gabe freezes. A bright, painful looking hope flickers into his eyes. 

“You aren’t?” he asks, quiet. 

“No.” Colin shakes his head. “Now go say that to Tyson.” 

“What? But--” They’re too old for the three years between them to feel long, but Gabe looks young, in that moment. “I cant. I messed up, and I thought maybe--but he’s moved on, and--” 

“Go say that to Tyson,” Colin repeats. He’s a practical sort of guy, he likes to think. Gabe clearly hasn’t gotten over Tyson. Tyson definitely never got over Gabe. Maybe Gabe messed up, but Tyson still needs to hear this. “You’ll never know until you try.” 

“But--” 

“Next time, he really will be dating someone,” Colin points out. “Do you want to hear that?” 

That hardens Gabe’s jaw. “No,” he decides, and stalks out, towards the patio. 

Colin considers not following, but he thinks he deserves to hear some of this. And if he made the wrong call, Tyson might need him as backup. 

Tyson’s still alone on the patio, though he’s off the phone, and is just looking out into the backyard. He turns when he hears the door open, though--and his face clearly doesn’t know what to do to see Gabe there. 

“What are you doing, Gabe?” he asks, and this time he sounds tired. 

“I wanted to talk.” Gabe takes a step out onto the patio. 

“I don’t think my boyfriend will like that,” Tyson retorts, glancing over Gabe’s shoulder at Colin. 

Colin can hear the smile in Gabe’s voice. “I know you’re not dating.” 

“You know, how? I mean,” Tyson corrects quickly. “We are, you’re wrong.” 

“He told me.” 

“Seriously?” Tyson’s attention is momentarily diverted. “You couldn’t even hold out an hour, Willy? Some kind of friend you are, I’m trading you in.” 

Colin knows Tyson’s empty threats, and shrugs. “It was a ridiculous plan anyway.” 

“Yeah, it’s me, what did you expect?” 

“Tyson.” Gabe’s voice is rough, and all of Tyson’s attention clearly disappears to look at Gabe, who’s halfway out on the patio now, a few feet from Tyson. “Tys, I--can we talk?” 

“Why? You said everything you needed to say,” Tyson informs him. HIs hands are wrapped around the alternate wrists now, clenching hard. “You said it two years ago, when you just--took that job without even thinking about me, without wanting to figure things out at all, and now you’re just back and so it clearly wasn’t the job it was just that I wasn’t enough and--”

“I was an idiot,” Gabe cuts Tyson off. He’s leaning in towards Tyson, like he’d be touching him if he could. “Two years ago I was an idiot and I thought that I should go back to Sweden because it was what I’d always planned to do and I couldn’t let a boy get in the way of that, and I shouldn’t have. I should have been flexible, but you know me.” He tries for a smile. “I’m not good at flexible. And by the time I realized why nothing in Sweden seemed as bright...you had blocked my number.“ 

Tyson swallows. “That’s what you do, when someone dumps you and you don’t want to risk pathetically drunk dialing them.” 

“Well it’s very inconvenient when someone wants to pathetically drunk dial you,” Gabe says, and Tyson shudders. Colin takes a drink. He should maybe go inside, but he’s still not 100% convinced this is ending well. 

“So, what,” Tyson asks, clearing his throat. He can’t quite look at Gabe. “You thought you’d come back and find me and we’d just--pick up where we left off, like you hadn’t dumped me?” 

“I--not that simple, but I hoped.” Gabe takes a step forward. “Or we could find a way to move forward.” 

Tyson’s breath catches, and he looks down at his hands. Colin is considering breaking this up when, “You broke my heart, Gabe,” Tyson says, quiet and sincere and heartbreaking in itself. 

Gabe’s face looks like someone stabbed him. “I broke mine too, if that helps.” 

Tyson smiles, real but like it hurts. “It sort of does, honestly.” He breathes in, rough. “But I just--I don’t know what to do with this.” 

“Give me a chance?” Gabe takes another careful step forward. His voice is soft, almost gentle. “I know I don’t deserve it, but--I want to try to.” 

Tyson is just staring, his eyes huge, his whole body tight. Everything’s right there on his face, like it always is, how he’s still so obviously in love with Gabe, all his self-preservation instincts. How much he wants and doesn’t trust, either Gabe or himself. 

His gaze flicks over Gabe’s shoulder, to Colin--and it’s panicked and a question, a plea. Colin--he’s not sure he trust Gabe, but he trusts that Tyson’s unhappy now and he’d be happier with Gabe. He trusts the ache in Gabe’s voice when he called Tyson the best thing that happened to him.  

And really, he trusts Tyson, even when Tyson doesn’t. 

He shrugs. Tyson makes a quick face, then looks back at Gabe, who’s still just waiting, and Colin can see when he starts to smile, his big unapologetic smile, and he sees Gabe light up. “Well, my boyfriend said it’s okay,” Tyson says, and Gabe spares a laugh before he jerks forward, catches himself. 

“Tys, can I--” 

“We’re taking it slow,” Tyson warns, but then, “But first, if you aren’t kissing me in the next ten seconds I’m going to--” he doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before Gabe’s kissing him, all desperate, aching need that has Tyson clinging back. 

Of course Tyson would be this dramatic, Colin thinks, sparing them a smile before he goes back inside. Maybe this will decrease the average level of drama, if--

“Where are you going?” Colin looks over ins surprise. Tyson’s appeared next to him, looking messy and shamelessly kissed. Gabe, next to him, his hand firmly around Tyson’s waist, doesn’t look any better. 

“I thought you would be busy,” Colin points out, giving Tyson’s hair a pointed look. “I was going to--” 

“Nah, we’ve got a party to enjoy, right Gabe?” Tyson asks, adding the last bit pointedly. In a voice that is definitely not a whisper, he adds, “Taking it slow means he has to wait. So. Party.” 

“I’m not the one who enjoys waiting,” Gabe observes, a little biting, which makes Tyson snicker, and flush.

“Well, learn to. We’re going to enjoy this party with Willy and you are going to play nice, and I am going to get drunk and probably make out with you a little, and then you are going to drive me home and be a gentleman and drop me off.” 

“Oh I am?” Gabe asks, grinning. He’s looking at Tyson fondly enough that it makes Colin a little uncomfortable, honestly. 

“You are,” Tyson confirms. “I’m going to hold this over you forever.” 

Gabe’s face lights up again, a sort of undisguised happiness that is as sweet as it is overwhelming to even catch the edges of it. Colin’s a little surprised that Tyson’s this into someone as full on as Gabe, but he guesses that maybe they’re well matched in that. “I can’t wait,” Gabe says, and Tyson makes a strangled noise. 

“Stop,” he mutters, then turns to Colin. “Okay. So I need a drink--Gabe, that’s you--and then we need to find EJ because I have a lot of shit to give him about his Instagram.” 

It’s nice to see Tyson like this, so brightly happy. “Sounds good,” Colin says, and means it. 

[xannified]

𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 ✧ k.yg | 一

If their head choreographer told him that their upcoming comeback choreographer was the hottest girl on the entire planet, he wouldn't have been complaining about him taking part on the routine. He wouldn't have been such an idiot and and argued with their leader for assigning him. He wouldn't have slacked off.

But being an asshole he is, he'd been fighting with her for three hours straight and made her feel like shit. Well done for him, such a hardworking member.

He knew it was wrong of him for judging someone he haven't even met. Well, at least that is what the other members thought.

Only Jungkook knew about what was actually going on. The idea about what would happen if his members knew if she and him ever got caught together never really crossed his mind. But then again, only the Bangtan Boy knew exactly all the fucked up things he has done through the last couple years, even before debut.

It has been a couple seconds since he is awake but he held his eyes closed. He was tired, and with a killing headache, he sure didn't want to get out of bed. It was so warm, so soft, so comfortable, so... weird.

When he decided to open his eyes, he was in a room he had never seen before. Definitely not his. But there were his clothes on the floor. It was only then he realized that he was in a hotel room, and he hooked up with someone last night.

The girl must have gotten all her belongings then left him the morning after. Thankfully, no one was able to identify him while leaving. He used a pseudonym and came unrecognizable last night. A thing that a tipsy fucker would impossibly do.

One night stands. He hated them. There was no intention of being drunk last night. But when he saw her cheeky smile, he knew he had to fuck her.

He wanted her all for himself. Hearing her scream and beg for mercy as she scratches her long nails down her back proves that he did her right. It might be against the rules of one night stands, but he wanted to fuck her again.

What pissed him off is the way she left him without even telling him what her name was before leaving.

And here she was, smiling innocently.

From Hanlim, he did not know that she'll end up being a famous choreographer.

She was always in the same class as him, and he always sees her. Though they never crossed paths nor did they even once acknowledged each other in a pleasant manner, they were always told that they were literally a version of each other.

Apparently, they were always a match on the dance floor. Because truth be told, he stood out the most in every choreography they put him in. He puts his all to it. The passion shows in every emotion. And he owned every choreography like he made it. And the fact that he was actually the best male dancer in the room, nobody denied it.

Except her. For she believes that she will never ever be the same as him. She was better than him, and more.

She was eighteen, with a huge love for dancing and has a passion for singing. With her crazy great and unique talent, she found herself in a fast rising career. She stood out among the girls. She owned every choreography like a professional, and she stood out like a star. Except, a guy was always in her rise—Kim Yugyeom.

He was eighteen, whose love for dancing was bigger than anything else. He was doing it even before his alphabets, and he has no plans on stopping any time now.His skills were always going to be bound for something greater. So here he is now: a member of the worldwide famous boy group. He became popular with dancing to be in awe of. But in the journey to fame, there will always be a challenge—Lee Jiwon.

They were twenty-one, and they have never thought that they would end up with a bottle of vodka and heavy sex.

Never in a million years did they imagine that their paths will cross without a fire burning in its trail. Their eyes have seen beyond each other's harsh front. Because after that one night stand, he didn't realize how bad he actually wants her. And he couldn't be more surprisingly ecstatic that she wants him too.

Suddenly, fingers snapped right in front of his face. He stopped his thoughts and composed himself to analyze the situation.

"She's so good, isn't she? I can't believe she's not an idol," was the first thing his best friend said after they met her. But he didn't want to sound like he was excited to get to work with her. So he just mumbled in agreement.

After the small meeting that happened in the studio, the group went out to have lunch with their manager, their head choreographer and his foreign friend, and Jiwon.

Yugyeom did not even know how and why on earth they had arrived to the restaurant. It was not even necessary, but his hyungs are really friendly especially Jackson. Maybe it is necessary. After all, they will be working with them for quite a period.

The waiter was taking down their orders as they all decided what to get. All of them ordered appetizers and main course according to Mark and Jackson's suggestions. Everything was great, but Jiwon didn't like the way Yugyeom kept stealing glances at her.

It was then about five minutes when the waiter returns with drinks they've ordered. Mark ordered iced tea just like his sister, to which Jackson and the rest followed. The others ordered some soda.

Just after she sets the drink down on the table, she smiled, "Excuse me, I'll just go to the restroom."

Since this morning, she wanted to refresh for the purpose of looking presentably decent for lunch. They might just be another set of idols she was going to work with professionally. But they're still pretty much guys who would expect some personal standard of hygiene from other people especially from the opposite sex.

She wiped her face with some oil control sheets and sprayed perfume subtly. Then, she finished tying her shoelaces when someone came in the bathroom.

Jiwon didn't care, but she minded the situation when she realized that it was a guy.

"I woke up quite disappointing the other morning. You weren't beside me where I left you," the guy breathed. It was Yugyeom, and she notices his smirk as her sight travelled from his feet to his eyes.

"Oh, yeah... sorry," she apologized, but she kept in mind that he's way out of line. She brushed the thought off, trying not to be rude.

"That's okay," he offers a slight smile and she nods at him. She tried to walk past him, but he grabs her arm and turn his head at her. He said, "But next time, I won't let you off as easy."

He remained his eyes on her. Little did she know, he was pulling her again as she froze under his sight.

His hands travelled to her waist to push her closer to himself.

Jiwon really hated this effect he has on her, because she was quite sure that all of the girls that meet him experience the same thing—and that, she was just another girl in the endless line of flings.

But they already were flings. And it just happens that Yugyeom liked to keep her around for the benefit.

Yugyeom moved his hand from her waist further down to her hips. She automatically reached his neck with her fingers, and his low chuckle echoes in her ears as he kissed her on the lips.

She bit her lip as he brings hand to her neck, positioning her head to look up at him. He closed her eyes as she moaned against his lips, making her body light up and leave him lusting as she pulls away.

She leaned back, and he only took it as an advantage to leave wet kisses on her neck.

Jiwon knew very well that she should protest, but who was she kidding? Because she only wanted him to continue.

When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead on hers and opened her eyes.

"Is it weird that I want to kiss you all the time since that night, Jiwon-ah?" he asks, making her numb in her knees as she freezes in his grip. She closed her eyes as he rephrased his question, "Can I kiss you again?"

It doesn't take long before she nods, taking a deep breath. Her eyes shut as she felt his lips on hers.

She felt his hands in hers, gripping them and she felt herself blushing. She tried to run her hands through his hair on his neck, but he grabs them and holds them on either side of her body and leaving her defenseless to his touch. His hands stop at her hips, and she felt them push her body against him as she heard footsteps.

It must be one of the members, so he pulled away and left her flustered, confused, and hot.

From the other side of the door, it was indeed Bambam who was worrying, "Jiwon-ssi? Are you okay in there?"

Yugyeom went to the corner and Jiwon straightened her clothes. She looked at him, and he only nodded before she carefully turned the door knob and swung the door open.

She smiled at Bambam and apologized for taking too long. Yugyeom then carefully tried to get out of the female restroom, hearing their voices as he walked out.

They're starting the meal, and he can feel his whole tense up, thinking of Jiwon in her off-shoulder crop top and jeans. When he sat down, he earned Jinyoung's attention. He asked, "Where've you been? You're sweating and it's weird."

He made himself comfortable on his seat. He simply answered, "The sun was glaring outside, and my friend asked me stuff about Jiwon since he heard about her working with us."

Jiwon pauses for a second, then raises an eye brow at him. She was sitting in between Mark and Jackson, across Yugyeom and Bambam.

Yugyeom only smirked and continued to look away. He clearly knows how to manipulate the upcoming situations now, and can't believe how things are going well for him.

"Jiwon is quite popular in America too. Well, because she took classes in Millennium and in North Hollywood after graduating from Hanlim," their head choreographer explained to everyone from across the table, taking a bite of his food.

She only listened, and she felt someone's legs brush against hers under the table. Before she can even check who it was and apologize, she noticed a widening grin on Yugyeom's face.

The information made Jackson gasp in surprise. He said, "Oh? Yugyeom graduated from Hanlim too, though! Did you happen to know her, Gyeom-ah?"

She felt her cheeks heat up and try to continue breathing as she felt as if a pool of how water have just been washed over her. He wanted her to want him keep going.

The whole thing was ridiculous. Yugyeom was for sure not interested. But then here he is, who might just be playing with her so she tried her best not to mind it.

Jiwon was staring at hin, waiting for his answer. Yugyeom bites into his chicken sub and licks his delectable lips, an action she was almost certain he does on purpose, which brought back memories of his lips on hers.

This guy is really something, and he was making her feel things she had never felt before. He cleared his throat before answering his hyung, "I have known her, but we never really got acquainted."

She then shifted her gaze down on the plate in front of her. Jiwon did all of her best not to look up at Yugyeom. But it was hard, because he was purposely landing his foot by her legs under the table. She knew very well that he was doing that for attention, her attention.

Never really got acquainted, the sentence repeated in her mind.

Now she was cursing under her breath at the stupid things Yugyeom was saying. She was cursing under her breath at Yugyeom. Jiwon was trying to compose herself, and Yugyeom's sentiments were not helping at all.

Their teacher clapped his hands to get everyone's attention, and everyone immediately stopped what they were doing.

He announced, "Today, we will be doing something different with the class. I've decided to take it up a notch for a challenge as one of your major practicals."

The room was filled with mixed emotions. Some were cheering, and some were groaning which included her.

This teacher is a great dancer and choreographer. He was even a great father and friend to the class. But he also has his own way of getting things interesting. And this time, it didn't seem pleasant at all.

He added once again, "And don't fret. I will be picking the partners today so everyone come sit down in front."

It only made her groan a lot more. All of them started going to the front, and sat on a spot on the floor. There was someone from behind who called her out. Though she already knew who it is, "Psst."

"Shut up, Kim Yugyeom," she snapped at him, turning around to see him grinning from ear to ear.

"Shut up, Kim Yugyeom," he mocked, his voice higher and squeakier.

"I do not sound like that," she gagged. She hissed at him, "Stop pestering me. You're a monkey."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Well, are too—"

The teacher cleared his throat, making both snap back to the front. He said with a raised eye brow, "Kim Yugyeom, Lee Jiwon, you never really get along. So you two are partnering up for this."

"WHAT?" both Yugyeom and Jiwon yelled out. Their eyes were practically bulging out of its sockets. Jiwon pointed at the boy in disgust, "Please don't let me be partners with him!"

Yugyeom scoffed, also with a disgusted face, "And I'm quite sure that I won't let myself be partners with you either!"

Hoping to change their teacher's mind, they only earned a stern look. He told them, "That is enough. You both have to stop bickering around since we are starting."

She could feel Yugyeom's glare on her from behind. Girls were on the right side, and the boys were on the left. Jiwon glared back as she turned around to face the mirror and started stretching.

Twenty minutes into the choreography, everyone realized how mature the whole routine is. Her mind started to drift to the boys' side unknowingly. And heck, her timing is for real.

They were doing the part where the girls have to lie down with knees bent in an upright position. At the same time, the guys doing the grind. They were in a push up position but with legs spread apart then they have to dip their body for the grind.

In the exact moment, Yugyeom locked eyes with her as he grinded down slowly. And the boy even had the nerve to bite his lip while doing so.

Jiwon didn't know what exactly happened to her. But heck, that was hot. And she might be a tad turned on. Her mouth might be a little bit ajar, but she quickly regained her composure. The boy was a tease.

She glared at her, and he in turn winked at her. Jiwon probably just had creep goosebumps because Yugyeom is being such a maniac. She then turned her attention to the routine, because these thoughts aren't going to calm down if she didn't.

When their teacher called her out for a little solo, she immediately stood up. Jiwon was not as confident as she seems, though. Because these kind of dance aren't really her style. She just hopes she won't make herself look like a perverted wiggly worm.

All of the attention was on her as she walked to the middle, immediately taking position as the music started playing. while she was doing a freestyle, her eyes caught Yugyeom once again. He had a challenging smirk on his face. And then, it reminded her how this guy always annoyed her. Maybe a little tease wouldn't hurt.

Jiwon started dancing once the song reached the part where the choreography starts. She put energy into every step, her facial expressions intact. Honestly, feeling the music while letting it take control all over your body is the technique for her.

She was feeling the music. It was almost the part wherein the grind happens so she prepared herself to glide. As she dipped down, she made sure to make eye contact with Yugyeom. She grinned upwards then slightly bit her lower lip.

The cheers erupted around the room. A chorus of claps and cheers passed around as she continued dancing.

Once it was done and it was the freestyle part, she did a little funny dance because doing the whole 'sexy' things is tiring for her. She might be not a huge fan of it, but it's fun.

A friend gave her a sideways hand-five. The teacher also commended her as they were reminded, "I expect all of you to have a chemistry with your partners. I am also expecting the best of your routines, giving it more twist."

The duo, she almost forgot about it.

Jiwon went her way over to Yugyeom. He was obviously out of his zone. She smirked and moved a little forward, "Got a little bothered? Can't an idol handle a sensual routine?"

Yugyeom only pushed her back. He rolled his eyes and said, "In your dreams, Lee."

No matter how much she loved teasing him, doing the whole routine with him made her feel nervous and a lot anxious. Because this is Yugyeom, and no matter how confident Jiwon seems around him, she still becomes a nervous wreck. Her nerves would always get the best of her.

The boy is Kim Yugyeom. And no matter she hates to admit it, he was hot. He was a tease despite being annoying at the same time.

There were voices that interrupted her thoughts. She got taken aback, realising the Jackson was looking at her, "Are you listening, Jiwon-ssi?"

Jiwon literally haven't heard a word of what Jackson said so she just nodded, hoping that he won't confront her about what she was thinking just now. She turned her body to face him and showing him that she was now giving him her full attention. She admitted, "Sorry, I checked out for a second there."

"Just ask her again nicely, hyung. Her mind is obviously a little preoccupied," Yugyeom winks at her as she turned her head away from him.

She was glad that everyone was oblivious to what was actually going on between them, even the sneaky signals that the jackass was sending her.

"What were you saying again?" she asked Jackson.

"I was asking if you want to come with us tonight since this is the only chance we'll have to head out," Jackson gets straight into asking if she wants to head out.

Apparently, this would be the first time someone asked her to go out tonight. Since that night, she did not ever went out to party again. She wanted to go, but the thought that Yugyeom is giving her looks scares her shitless. She says unsurely, "Well, I'm not sure. I'll have to know if I still have schedule later on."

The guys nodded only. She suddenly thought about why Yugyeom was like that. And why she was submitting—well, scared. But then someone's phone dinged.

She didn't care and went back to her food and continue eating. She then suddenly almost choked when Yugyeom spoke.

"Aish, my friend texted me. I don't think I'll be able to come with you guys tonight," he chimes in as she sets his phone on the table again.

Jiwon turned and glared at him but he just smirks for a second before 'sincerely' looking at his hyungs. Mark said, "It's okay, just catch up on us if you can later on."

He unlocked his phone again and texted quickly. He said, "Of course, hyung. I want to be there with you guys."

Suddenly, her phone vibrated by her back pocket. No one seemed to notice though, because everyone carried on to small talks as the lunch proceeded.

Come to my house by eight... or else, the letters formed.

Her eyes widened as she quickly locked her phone before anyone could take a peek or even ask what she was looking at.

Never in a million years did she felt anxious or nervous about such thing. She never even imagined it actually happening to her.

Yugyeom watched her secretly from across the table as she tried to eat. He watched the way her fingers absentmindedly touched her lips and he ground his teeth together.

After the guys left, she just couldn't get her shit together. Since her house was not too far from the place, she decided to just walk home. To be honest, she wanted to clear up her mind. All that was happening between her and Yugyeom was driving her crazy.

There was a market on the way, and there were eye-catching accessories and clothes. Maybe she could get a little shopping spree to take her mind off of stuff.

But who was she even kidding, she's not getting Yugyeom out of her head. How did they even ended up like this?

After being paired up after that practical, the other students started teasing them. Of course, the teachers also found out about it. And since then, they were always picked together for pair projects.

Right now they were working on a project in Yugyeom's house. The due was tomorrow, and Jiwon did not want to waste time but it was draining. There was still the film left to make a report about.

It was weird. The film assigned for the class was Dear John. There were subtitles, but it was really odd that they were doing a report about it.

The movie was a bit sappy and lovely, but she is not like other girls who cries over one. So when it came to a love scene, Jiwon relaxed and then she felt something on my arms because it brushed over Yugyeom to get some ice cream.

Slightly laughing to herself, Jiwon tried my best to hold it back because she knew he'll be embarrassed. She was sure that he's being goofy right now because of the love scene.

Jiwon found out that Yugyeom was deviant when it comes to such things. When the movie was finished, she asked him, "Do you want to start the report now? What do you want to do now?"

Yugyeom was running fingers through his hair. She looked at her for a bit, and his orbs were getting darker by the minute. She kind of gulped a bit, biting her lip. The boy mumbled, "You."

Chuckling, she sat up. She slapped his arm and told him, "Hell to the motherfucking no, Kim Yugyeom."

She tried to laugh it off, expecting that he'd also laugh. But she can clearly see his mouth, creeping into a smirk. Jiwon looked away and stood up, getting a pen and a paper to write down the points of the film.

But a figure leaned on her. She can feel a hot breath, and she closed her eyes when she felt his luscious lips land on her neck. Yugyeom turned her around and pulled her closer.

He kissed her full on her lips, and he even bit her lower lip, making his tongue explore her mouth. It's funny how her system was betraying her. Jiwon was enjoying it despite the fact that it was wrong to kiss Kim Yugyeom. But all that was in her mind right now is the texture of his beautiful, plump lips. The way his tongue explored her mouth. And the way it seemed that his touch was perfect whenever he pulls her closer to him, to kiss her more.

When he pulled away, she felt like her knees were starting to get weak. But then Yugyeom claimed her lips again as his mouth moved to the nape of her neck. He bit it, and sucked it. And he even licked it after a good suck.

Once again, Yugyeom broke off the kiss. And she swore, his orbs shifted darker again. He pleaded and looked at me in the eyes, "You've been making me feel things I shouldn't be feeling, Jiwon-ah."

When he said it, his voice shifted deeper and a bit huskier. Yugyeom trailed his hands down her ass. He squeezed them and made her open her mouth a bit, only for Yugyeom to take advantage and slip his tongue in. "Y-Yug... Yugyeom, j-just..."

Yugyeom pulled her body closer. His crotch was being rubbed against her womanhood. She shivered at his words, "Just what, baby?"

She huffed as Yugyeom leaned in, planting a wet kiss on her temple and biting it. Jiwon stuttered, "Just... uh, j-just plea-please... kiss me."

He snaked his hands around her and pulled her closer to his chest as their lips moved in sync. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he went deeper into the kiss. He groaned once when he bit her lower lip, her hands running through his hair, "Fuck, I want you. I want to keep doing you."

They hit each other's lips hard but neither one of them acknowledged that. He grabbed her leg to hook them on his hips. She groaned as she let him took charge, "Then do me."

Jiwon closed her eyes and as she felt so much pleasure from his kisses alone. He cupped her face and pulled her closer. His tongue explored her mouth once again, giving me chills that her whole system enjoyed.

Shaking her head, she looked at her watch to check what the time was. She should probably head back home and take a shower. Jiwon was getting too much events in her head that it was starting to ache.

There was an outline that she was making for herself tonight. Only to be reminded that Kim freaking Yugyeom have texted her. More like threatened her.

The hot bath was soothing. But she remained in her pyjamas when the clock strikes thirty minutes to eight.

7:35. The glowing blue light from her bedside table clock tantalises her as she continued to bite her lip. Yugyeom just cannot boss her around like that. Her heart rate was accelerating. She can feel the thick blood pumping through her veins, heating up her entire body. Her bedroom felt smaller and the air feels thinner.

7:40. Twenty minutes. She haven't been able to sleep at all. Jiwon tried to bury her head into her pillow and forget him just for tonight. But his proposition ket forcing itself into her mind. It was not a proposition, though. It was an order, a threat. If she didn't show up in his house at 8, she would be disobeying him. Not that he has any right to be in authority like that, but the memory of this morning hitched, "But next time, I won't let you off as easy."

7:45. Jiwon found herself changing into leggings and a hoodie. She carefully booked a cab on an application. He must be expecting her to knock on his door at exactly 8, by now.

7:57. She walked a few steps to find the familiar door. She pressed the doorbell. Jiwon suddenly got a moment of doubt. She shouldn't be doing this. It was her desires getting the best of her and possessing her hand. The door clicked open and dark brown orbs caught her own.

Silently, he pulled her softly inside saying, "You came."

Jiwon felt her heartbeats speed up as he dragged her into his room. The dark room drew her in and she noticed that the only thing preventing the room from being pitch black is the weak bedside lamp. It filled the room with a warm yet distant light.

A large bed is centered in the room. It was a hazel wood framing the huge mattress.

Everyone knew that Yugyeom is staying with his brother in his house. Oh, how much of a liar he was. Only if people knew the stupid excuse so the members would't come to his house.

His soft expression fades away as he moves in closer, the tip of his nose barely touching hers. Yugyeom slowly moves his lips towards hers, and just as they are about to meet, he exhales and she feels his warm breath brush against her cheeks. He takes another quick glance in her eyes before his lips meet hers. He pushed her closer. Jiwon can feel the heat radiating off his chest, and his warm lips kisses her. Yugyeom cups her cheeks with his hands and smiles.

He then removes her hand from her face and caresses her cheeks. There was a discomforting squint in his eyes, "Talk to me, baby. Tell me what you're thinking."

Millions of thoughts run through her head as she contemplates the possible events. Either she says she doesn't want to, or let her desire take over her.

"I want to," she breathed and she feels her cheeks redden. Her whole body freezes and waits for his reaction. Yugyeom smirks wickedly and travels his hand all over her body.

Yugyeom laid her on the bed and his hand slipping under her hoodie. She didn't have any shirt but just sports bra. Yugyeom expertly pulled its band and cupped one of of boobs. He teases, "You like that?"

He kept planting soft kisses, making her eyes close and enjoy the heavenly feeling of Yugyeom's lips on hers and all over.

Jiwon moaned between one of any kisses on her neck. He laughs with a smirk and looks at her. Yugyeom moves his head away from her throat and his hand travels further down.

Now, she completely lost control over her thoughts and her mind scatters. Yugyeom breathed as he laid her properly down on the bed, "Mine."

〇 ⏪⏸⏩ 二

[glycerineclown]

On November 17, 2017, six weeks after a mass shooting in Las Vegas, one week after Veteran’s Day, and six days prior to Thanksgiving, season one of The Punisher was released on Netflix.

Maybe this is over-dramatic, but I didn’t know that it would change my life. I’m not in the military, I don’t have PTSD, and my family is not in tatters. I don’t even care about comic books. But I do write fic, and I love character pieces.

It’s no secret that the story of Frank Castle is a tragedy. His life is a sad day in hell, and every morning he has to wake up and remember that. So when I tell you that upon finishing the last episode of The Punisher, I was overwhelmed with hope for him, well. No one was more surprised than me.

But maybe we should back up a little. 

The Punisher came a year and a half after Daredevil’s second season, when we were first introduced to Jon Bernthal as Frank Castle. He made a fascinating and only-sometimes-sympathetic antihero, and made a stunning commentary from all sides of the gun control debate. He had some spectacular fight scenes and got under Matt Murdock’s righteous skin. But it was Jon’s emotional performance and the scenes he shared with Deborah Ann Woll’s Karen Page that made that entire season of Daredevil memorable for many.

Their scenes were intense from the jump—right away, they got down in the mud together like they had known each other for years. Frank was slipping into savagery, a last gasp from a man with no will beyond revenge. When he and Karen had conversations, though, the audience grew to see Frank Castle as more than a monster. As if by accident, they grew from apprehension into a deep respect for one another. But by the end, Frank and Karen were left in an ultimatum, in a place with nowhere to go, with only bad options. They shut the door on each other. It was a very hard time to love them. 

Cut to last October. The release of The Punisher was delayed after a man made a sniper’s nest out of his Mandalay Bay hotel room, killing 58 people and injuring 851 others with semi-automatic rifles. The NYCC panel for The Punisher, scheduled for that very weekend, was cancelled. I was relieved to not hear any whining. I think everyone thought it was the right call. (As if there wouldn’t be more gun deaths in America by Thanksgiving.)

People came to The Punisher expecting a bloodbath, and they got one, for sure. But if they expected a story of a killing machine without connection or emotion, that isn’t what The Punisher delivered. Not at all. It’s abundantly clear from the writing and Jon’s performance that Frank Castle feels the things he does. That he has regrets that eat at him, that he wants to make things right, and that he has people he would die for.

Without that throughline, Frank isn’t someone most people can root for. Jon Bernthal and the writers at Marvel managed to take a man who could so easily be played as a stone cold meathead and instead break him wide open, into a sensitive, self-aware, still-grieving man who can leave bodies in his wake.

The Punisher isn’t a story about death and destruction. It’s a story about family, blood and found. And that’s why it’s important to me.

It’s not a new idea to say that the Marvel and Netflix shows have been, by and large, so well received because they are personal. Sure, they have movie-level special effects and incredible action sequences. But these heroes prevail in people’s hearts because it’s possible to relate to them.

They are still people that always get back up. But they are also human beings.

In The Punisher, we get to see Frank in the Marines, and after he and Billy and Gunner get handpicked for Cerberus. We see him clear the LZ in Kandahar, and rage at his superiors for making the wrong choices.

We get to see Frank cherish old friendships, and be betrayed by them. We get to see him spend time forming new, but very different friendships, with David and Sarah Lieberman, and with their children, who he treats with the same honesty and personhood that he would his own.

We get to see his memories, and his nightmares. The story doesn’t concentrate on everything Frank hates--it’s on the things he cares about.

There are even moments that are genuinely funny.

We get to see side stories of interesting women with full lives and agency. We get to see Dinah Madani fight for herself, and fall down, be mad as hell, spend time with her parents, and still ally herself completely with Frank.

We get to see visions of Maria, some gauzy and idyllic, others too honest for him to face every day. She floats in and out of Frank’s consciousness, with relief and springtime and truth and judgement.

Karen isn’t the window to Frank’s soul in The Punisher—Frank does that himself. Her role is closer to the sidelines, but she takes no prisoners, and if there was any doubt about the lengths Frank Castle would go to for her, they’re gone now. The string tying them together is as strong and nameless as ever. She wants so badly for him to be able to live a normal life. She would fight tooth and nail for him, if he would let her.

Curtis Hoyle would, too. 

Frank can’t exist without the loyalty of others. He’d be dead without it. He wants to move forward, he wants to love people, but he’s afraid to do it openly. And rightfully so. His mission’s over, and he doesn’t have a North Star anymore.

The season closes out on Frank, after getting some semblance of a pardon and a stack of cash from Homeland, sitting down with Curtis’ support group. Talking through what he’s feeling. And god, does this man need that. Upon first watch, I could hardly believe it was happening—it seemed like the happiest ending possible for him, somehow. I would have been satisfied if the series never got a second season, if it meant we got to keep that moment. Another season only means he’s still losing himself, and he’s still on the run.

The season closes out on a man who’s peeking into the future like he might leave death behind. Like he might step into the light.

It was a door I was able to swing open until it bounced off the wall, again, and again, and again. 

I was thankful for it last year on Thanksgiving. 

I’m thankful for it this year, too.

[qandnoablog]

War (Marvel Imagine)

Title: Discovered

Pairing: [In Progress]

Warnings: Based on the movie - Captain America: Civil War

Part: 7, [6], [5], [4], [3], [2], [1]

Key: Y/N - Your Name

Word Count: 4,709

Summary: [Y/N] takes part in a battle she never even dreamed possible. She knew the Avengers team always had their differences, but never did she think they could fight one another to this extent. Not only that, but she’s now a part of it.

Note From Author: Thank you to everyone that patiently waits for these updates! I’m still nowhere on a pairing, but hopefully the storyline is captivating enough so that it isn’t an issue. Thanks again for reading and any comments are welcome!

Part 7 - War

This is so wrong… [Y/N] thought as she watched Stark and his friends gang up against Steve. Why is this team always so broken… She sighed to herself as she impatiently waited for the Captain’s signal and silently observed the scene that unfolded.

“Alright,” Stark declared, “I’ve run out of patience.” He brought his hands up to his face and yelled out, “Underoos!”

At that, something white shot out and clung to Cap’s shield. A red and blue figure leaped out and snatched the weapon away while simultaneously tying up the Captain’s hands together. The person landed on the small vehicle close to Stark and the others, his costume reminding [Y/N] of a spider. It was then that she realized the material that tied up Captain America’s hands looked an awful lot like the webbing of an arachnid.

“Nice job kid,” Tony said.

“Thanks!” The spider-person exclaimed, “Well, I could have stuck the landing a little better. It’s just a new suit- Wait it’s nothing, Mr. Stark. It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Yeah, we don’t really need to start a conversation,” Tony interrupted the stranger’s rambling.

“Okay,” he replied a bit out of breath and then turned back to Cap, “C-Cap-Captain,” he saluted, “Big fan. I’m Spider-Man.”

[Y/N] tried to suppress a smile, his stuttering speech reminding her slightly of Ant-Man’s earlier star-struck attitude with Captain America. He sounds young… Actually, she couldn’t help but think he sounded very familiar. Did she know this kid behind the mask?

“We found it,” Sam said through the earpiece, shaking [Y/N] from her thoughts, “The Quinjet’s in hanger five, North Runway.”

That was the cue.

Captain America lifted his bound hands in the air and an arrow whistled past as it accurately sliced through the webbing. Iron Man turned his back to Steve, his helmet locking in place over his head, as he surveyed where the arrow was shot from.

“All right, Lang,” Captain America mumbled into the comms.

With that comment, Ant-Man jumped off the shield and grew in size as he kicked the unsuspecting Spider-Man, stealing back the Captain’s shield.

“I believe this is yours, Captain America,” he announced, handing back the weapon to its rightful owner.

Peaceful negotiations were over. Everyone began to run around as they each had their own objective. They all had their own battles to face - except her. [Y/N]’s primary objective was to get to the jet without being detected. It was the perfect job for her since her powers allowed her to erase her presence almost completely. Even computers had a hard time keeping track of her movements, so long as she didn’t lose concentration.

“What the hell is that?” Bucky’s voice questioned through the ear piece as [Y/N] ran through the terminal towards where the Winter Soldier and the Falcon were headed.

“Everyone’s got a gimmick now,” Sam grunted.

Then she heard the sound of glass shattering and Sam yelling. She could faintly hear that familiar kid voice that she now identified as Spider-Man. He sounded rather excited, complimenting Bucky’s metal arm, which seemed like an odd thing to be talking about during a heated battle. In fact, talking at all in battle was rather odd.

Gotta hurry, gotta hurry, gotta hurry! [Y/N] chanted in her head as the air continuously shifted around her to hide her from sight. She was nearing the two’s location and could faintly make out their skirmish through the broken glass windows.

“This might be a bad time to bring this up,” she began, a bit out of breath, “but I have no idea where the hanger that Sam mentioned is.”

“Just follow Bucky and Sam!” Cap huffed out as he struggled with the whoever was attacking him this time.

“Roger that, Cap!” [Y/N] answered and propelled herself upwards through the broken glass opening. The only problem was… The two were a bit preoccupied with a certain spider to actually get anywhere.

I guess I should help them out… [Y/N] sighed internally as she rushed off after the three. She was just in time to see Falcon struggling with the kid when Bucky hurtled something at the spider.

“Oh, God,” Spider-Man gasped as he turned just in time to dodge the oncoming projectile.

Bucky ducked away behind a pillar, both of her teammates oblivious to her presence, when she noticed Spider-Man going off to pick up the broken panel that the Winter Soldier had just thrown at him.

“Hey, buddy!” the kid called out, as Bucky turned to see his enemy, “I think you lost this!”

“Bucky, look out!” [Y/N] cried out as the object hurtled through the air towards him. The energy that surrounding her dissipated as she let go of the veil she used to cover herself and instead focused her power towards the broken panel. With a strong push, she knocked the object out of the air and away from where Bucky stood.

Spider-Man’s mask eyes widened when he saw [Y/N] appear out of nowhere while Bucky nodded in gratitude in her direction. She nodded back at him as her energy shifted again and she was once more gone from sight.

“Wait, you’re-!” Spider-Man began but he was unable to finish. Falcon had used the opportunity to charge into the boy, making him fall from his perch he stood upon.

Thinking fast, the spider shot out more webbing, lifting himself from under Falcon, and then shot out more at Sam’s wings. His wings retracted involuntarily as he propelled downwards towards the floor.

Letting go of her invisibility a second time, [Y/N] wrapped Sam with her energy and absorbed his fall just before he crashed into a cell phone stand. The glass shattered and the construct caved in on impact, but thankfully Sam was unfazed.

“Thanks,” Sam said as he got up from the floor, wiping off the glass that clung to his clothes.

[Y/N] just smiled as she quickly disappeared before Spider-Man could get another good look at her.

However, the moment was short-lived as the spider took this moment to shoot out webbing at both of Sam’s hands, pinning him to the railing. The kid then landed sideways on one of the airport’s infrastructure, perfectly sticking onto the flat surface of metal and plastic.

“Those wings carbon fiber?” he asked, genuinely curious on the material of the Falcon’s wings.

“Is this stuff coming out of you?” Sam shot back with a question of his own, a disgusted look plastered on his face. It was touching his bare skin, so of course he would be grossed out if those webbings were indeed coming out of this stranger’s body.

“That would explain the-” Spider-Man went into a scientific jargon as he geeked out over the material of the wings and its mechanisms, ignoring Sam’s question. Half of the things he said went over [Y/N]’s head as she tried to grasp what the point was in his long dialogue. “...Gotta say, that’s awesome.”

“I don’t know if you’ve been in a fight before, but there’s usually not this much talking,” Sam advised, getting slightly annoyed by the kid’s constant chatter. Bucky took this distraction as an opportunity and silently rushed towards the two, but the kid’s next move made [Y/N] dodge for cover.

“Sorry, my bad,” he apologized to Sam, leaping off and swinging into both Bucky and Sam, barely missing [Y/N] as she hurriedly got out of the way. Her teammates, on the other hand, were not that lucky and broke through the railing, tumbling down towards the floor below.

“Crap!” [Y/N] let escape as she hurried over to her falling team.

In that brief moment where she flickered in-and-out of focus from losing concentration, something flew at her. Reacting too late, her wrist was forced onto the railing with a sharp enough force that made her yelp in pain. Sticky, white webbing had pinned her down, restricting her movements.

Grabbing the webbing with her free hand, she ignored the goosebumps that made their way up her arm and tugged. It didn’t budge and shivers went up her spine the more she analyzed the web.

Ugh… This looks so real! It feels real… God, I hate spider webs! [Y/N] cursed as she continued to struggle against the material but it was much tougher than it looked.

After the spider finished taking care of Sam and Bucky, he turned to [Y/N] as she uneasily tried to back away as far as possible against the webbing. Her wrist protested against her persistent pulling, but she needed some distance so she could calm down. The pain of her arm twisting against the web, Spider-Man inching towards her, her friends on the ground in whatever state the spider had left them, all of those factors were starting to make her panic. Feeling trapped was not helping. However, the next thing Spider-Man said surprised her.

“Oh, my God… It is you…”

“What?” [Y/N] asked, stopping her insistent struggles. Still, she cautiously readied her energy within her. It coiled around her, parts of her body already vanishing, but the kid just stood there, not making a move against her.

“It’s really you!” The kid exclaimed as he jumped up towards her. That made her flinch back, more of her disappearing from sight. “W-wait!” He stuttered, lifting up his hands to show he was not going to hurt her, “You might not recognize me with this on,” he said while pointing at his mask, “but I’ve been hoping I could meet you again!”

[Y/N] did feel as though she had met this person before, but nothing really seemed to click. Her curiosity got the best of her and the energy she had used to vanish slowly disperse into the air. Though his face was covered by a mask, he looked relieved to [Y/N] when he saw that she was willing to listen.

“I’m really sorry-” He began, as he reached out his hand, but something latched onto his arm and yanked him into the air. He yelled in surprise as the object flew straight through the window, taking the mysterious kid with him in a matter of seconds. Spider-Man collided hard into the metal that held the window together, the flying thing letting him go as he fell to the ground. [Y/N] just stood there, stunned.

“You couldn’t have done that earlier?” Bucky moaned as he lay on the floor, exhausted.

Hearing his voice, she snapped out of it and willed her power into the material that surrounded her wrist. The webbing that had plastered her onto the railing snapped away, the energy that [Y/N] forced into the thin lining being too much for it to take. When she was free, she rotated her wrist and rubbed at the stiff muscles. Finding no injuries beside some minor bruising, [Y/N] made her way back to the two stuck to the ground.

“I hate you,” Sam grumbled.

“Need a little help?” [Y/N] laughed, pushing aside the disappointment of not knowing how Spider-Man had known her. That matter can be put on hold for another day.

“That’d be great, thanks!” Sam called up as he stopped struggling against the webbing and relaxed.

“Jeez, what would you boys do without me?” She chuckled as she sent out her energy to snap the strange material off of her fellow teammates.

~

The whole team joined together as they raced towards the jet. [Y/N] followed behind them, invisible to the rest, but still very present. Bucky and Sam knew she was among them, though they had no idea where, while the others could only assume that she was.

Everyone stopped advancing, however, when Vision made an appearance, his beam breaking into the cement as if to draw a line of where they were not allowed to pass. He floated above their heads and while their attention fell to the android, but [Y/N] snuck around them all and continued on foot towards the Quinjet. That was her mission after all.

“Captain Rogers!” Vision called down, oblivious that one person had slipped past, “I know you believe what you’re doing is right. But for the collective good, you must surrender now.”

Iron Man’s team all gathered as well, jumping down from all directions to join Vision. Since no one knew [Y/N] was there, she nearly collided with the new king of Wakanda when he suddenly fell from the sky and landed next to Stark. She bit her lip, trying not to let the surprise in her voice escape, as she froze mere inches from him.

She held her breath as she slowly backed away from the man dressed like a black panther, and took her time going around him. Her powers prevented people from seeing her and erased her presence, but they didn’t make her invincible. If he had just clawed the air in front of him, blood would surely have been shed.

Only when she was a few feet away from both groups did she finally sprint to her destination. The jet was so close, but there was one tiny problem. She couldn’t fly the contraption. In fact, she didn’t even know how to open it to get inside.

“Cap, we have another problem,” [Y/N] groaned as the fight turned full swing behind her.

“A bit busy!” He grunted back.

“Who are you talking to?” [Y/N] heard Iron Man’s voice question through Cap’s comms. That could only mean they were fighting each other.

“I’m at the Quinjet bu-”

“Talk later!” He interrupted, a bit distracted by the onslaught of attacks.

“Seriously, who are you talking to?” Tony yelled, “We’re all-”

“I can’t open the jet, Steve, let alone fly the damn thing!” [Y/N] shouted over the sound of Stark’s voice, but then she realized that Cap could hear her perfectly fine, “Oops, sorry.”

“Wait for us there,” was all he said back.

She turned towards the fight, eyeing all the destruction of their skirmish, and leaned back on the cool metal of the Quinjet. [Y/N] looked up at the vehicle and sighed. Great… Just great.

~

“We gotta go,” Bucky whispered, [Y/N] quietly listening in through the earpiece. There wasn’t really much else for her to do. “That guy’s probably in Siberia by now.”

“We gotta draw out the fliers,” Cap replied, a bit out of breath, “I’ll take Vision. You get to the jet.”

“You know I could occupy them too. Just let me fight and-” [Y/N] began but the Captain quickly cut her off.

“You’re staying hidden, [Y/N].”

“I can fight too, Steve!” She protested. It wasn’t like she was aching to fight, especially not those she considered her friends, but anything was better than uselessly waiting alone by the carrier. Hearing everyone actually doing something while she just sat near the carrier was a bit humiliating.

“I’ll take Vision. You get to the jet,” Cap instructed, ignoring her complaints.

“No,” Sam countered, raising his voice to be heard over the wind, “You get to the jet. Both of you! The rest of us aren’t getting out of here.”

“As much as I hate to admit it,” Clint added, “if we’re gonna win this one, some of us might have to lose it.”

“This isn’t the real fight, Steve!”

“Alright, Sam. What’s the play?” Cap conceded.

“We need a diversion! Something big!”

“I could-”

“Someone else!” Steve cut [Y/N] off again. He was really starting to piss her off.

“I got something kinda big,” Scott finally joined in, “but I can’t hold it very long. On my signal, run like hell. And if I tear myself in half… Don’t come back for me.”

In a matter of seconds, metal creaking and breaking could be heard from where [Y/N] waited. She grew curious as more sounds of destruction crashed right outside, but she balled up her hands into a fist, her nails digging into her gloves, and continued to wait.

There better be a pretty good reason why I have to wait here and do nothing, Steve, [Y/N] warned her friend internally as she stewed in her own impatience, Even Scott is out there doing something and-

“[Y/N]?”

A familiar voice startled her out of her thoughts as she quickly turned to find its source. Natasha Romanoff, aka. Black Widow. The second Avenger she had ever met. The ex-assassin. A great friend and a terrifying enemy. And right now, they weren’t really on speaking terms.

“Um…” [Y/N]’s throat felt incredibly dry and she couldn’t even muster up enough courage to actually say anything.

I just had to ask for something to do, didn’t I? Why does the universe hate me?

Her calculating gaze didn’t falter as the two just stared at one another. [Y/N] knew that whatever was going through that woman’s head was something she couldn’t even begin to comprehend. So much experience and training was imbedded into every fiber of Natasha’s being. How could she even begin to match up to this agent?

“N-” [Y/N] began, but Romanoff put a finger to her lips. She wisely did as Natasha instructed, noticing her eyes softening. For some reason, [Y/N] felt like she wouldn’t be battling this person. She didn’t know why, but Natasha wasn’t going to fight her.

Then, two figures finally made their way towards her. She nearly sagged in relief, but the joy was short-lived as a sudden ray of light shot out at the tall structure that towered over the approaching men.

“Steve! Bucky!” [Y/N] shouted as she thoughtlessly tried to block Vision’s ray from completely toppling the structure over.

“Don’t!” Natasha yelled, but she was too late.

The pain of blocking a power that defied all logic seared into her scarred palms and she screamed out in agony. It was too much for her to bear and her barrier didn’t even hold for a second as Vision continued to bring the watchtower down.

“[Y/N]!” The two yelled almost simultaneously as they saw her crumple to the floor in pain, clutching her hands close to her chest as if to cradle them from further damage.

The building finally fell, but before it could block their path, a red energy stretched out and blocked it from completely toppling over. Wanda grunted with effort as she held onto the heavy tower, helping out her friends so that they could achieve their mission.

Just as [Y/N] was finally coming back to her senses, the pain in her palms dulling considerably, Wanda screamed and her hold on the structure vanished. In that split moment, [Y/N] ignored the throbbing that cut into her flesh and sent out her own energy to take over Wanda’s job. Still, she was not as powerful as Wanda, who got her powers from the infinity stone embedded in Vision’s head. It was too heavy for her to hold for long.

“Hurry!” [Y/N] cried as beads of sweat dripped down her face.

The two finally made it in, but they were too distracted with [Y/N]’s predicament that they had missed the other person waiting for them in the room. Natasha sauntered over to the two men, gently squeezing [Y/N]’s shoulder as she passed by.

“Stay down,” she told [Y/N], almost in a whisper, as she looked back toward the two super soldiers. “You’re not going to stop.”

“You know I can’t,” Steve replied.

“I’m gonna regret this,” Natasha sighed as she pointed her weapon at the men. Before any of them could make a move, she shifted her aim and in an instant, the Black Panther was brought down to his knees. Powerful electricity pulsed into the king as he crumpled to the floor.

“Go,” she advised her friend, who nodded in appreciation and jogged towards the jet.

As the two made their way over to the vehicle, Bucky reached out and grabbed [Y/N]’s hand, pulling her with them towards the carrier. She choked back the pain, her eyes watering slightly, as a small burst of her powers forced Bucky’s hand off of hers. It wasn’t enough to hurt him, but it was clear that a normal person’s hand would go numb from the amount of power she involuntarily used. [Y/N] quickly hid her hands behind her back before anyone knew what had happened. Both he and Steve stopped just for a moment, looking over at her with questioning eyes, but she just smiled that same smile back at the two of them. It had never failed her and she prayed it wouldn’t fail her today.

“Go,” she said as Natasha hit the king again with another volt of electricity, “I’ll stay behind. They might need me.”

Steve looked as though he wanted to protest, but [Y/N] turned her pleading eyes to Bucky. He hesitated, but then felt something strange and looked down at the hand that had grabbed her. The Winter Soldier immediately understood why she chose to stay, and nodded before dragging Steve aboard the ship.

The jet came to life as the two settled in their seats. It shot out at the remains of the fallen watchtower, moving away the bigger pieces that would hinder the jet from getting out. It was then that the Black Panther finally broke free of the taser Natasha continuously fired at him and leaped up to catch the plane before it could take off.

“Oh, no you don’t!” [Y/N] huffed as she knocked the king out of the air and back onto the ground. With that, it was too late for the panther to catch the Quinjet as it raced off into the open sky.

His face was covered by a sleek, black mask, but both Natasha and [Y/N] could feel his rage seeping out. He turned to [Y/N] but then brought his full attention onto the person who had betrayed his team.

“I said I’d help you find him, not catch him,” Natasha explained, holding her head up high, “There’s a difference.”

The two stared silently at one another as [Y/N] slowly brought her hands from behind her back, her arms shaking at the motion. She winced slightly and looked down at the blood soaked gloves. It was foolish of her to try and stop the full force of an infinity stone. All that raw power was unstoppable for a human such as herself. Blood dripped down onto the cement floor, seeping into the cracks, as she trembled just to keep standing. Bucky must have understood when he looked down at his own hand that was probably covered in her blood. He knew that if Steve had known, it would have ultimately hindered the entire mission, and she silently thanked Bucky for that.

“Shit,” [Y/N] laughed, more out of pain than out of joy, her consciousness slipping, “This really hurts.”

~

“Mom is going to kill me,” [Y/N] groaned as she glared up at the security cameras that surrounded the room.

When the government had taken the team and imprisoned them in the middle of the ocean, their medical division had struggled with the gloves that were sticking to the dried blood on the palms of [Y/N]’s hands. Rather than think of a solution to slip them off, they decided the fastest way was to cut them off entirely. Now, they were probably lying in the trash, all tattered up and useless.

“Those were from my mom, you know!”

“Hey, [Y/N],” Scott called from the other side of the cell, “Are you really fifty-years-old?”

“They were just joking,” Sam scoffed, “There’s no way she’s that old.”

“We might have been playing around,” Clint chuckled, “but I never lied.”

“I aged well, didn’t I?” [Y/N] smiled, though some of them couldn’t see that.

“That’s impossible,” Sam countered, “You’re just pulling our legs.”

“What’s your secret?” Scott questioned, his excitement seeping through the walls of the cage.

“I moisturize,” [Y/N] laughed, the others groaning at her playful comment.

Thankfully, since no one in the government even knew who exactly [Y/N] was to the Avengers, she was placed in a normal cell with the others. Wanda, on the other hand, had been taken to another, tighter cage since everyone knew of her powerful abilities. Due to the fact that there were no further restraints on [Y/N] she could have escaped by herself, but it was too risky. In addition, she didn’t want to break out if the others were unable to come with her. Instead, she decided to wait for an opportunity to present itself. She didn’t have to wait too long.

“But going back to the topic,” [Y/N] glared back up at the cameras, “you people owe me a new pair of gloves!”

A figure walked up to [Y/N]’s cell after her remark, making her glance to the side with a bored expression. The person before her, however, was not the usual prison guard she had expected and she jolted upright with a beaming smile plastered on her face.

“I’ll be sure to buy them for you once we get out of here,” Steve chuckled, helping her out of her cramped cell.

The others were already stretching out their limbs as they enjoyed their new freedom. Wanda was also amongst them, her pale face turning brighter at seeing [Y/N] again. Before long, they filed out of the room and out into the open, basking in the rays of the sun and smiling to the cool ocean breeze.

“Hey, Captain America,” she began, grinning mischievously, “now that you’re a wanted fugitive, are you going to change your name?”

“No,” he smiled with the air of a leader, “because that name doesn’t represent the American government. It represents the American people. And I am loyal to nothing but the American dream.” [Check Author’s Note at the bottom]

“Alright, Cap,” [Y/N] nodded, the unexpectedly serious answer warming her heart, “Where to, now?”

“I’ll drop everyone off at where they all want to go,” he replied as everyone hurried into the jet Steve must have driven to get here. “I’m guessing you want to go home?”

[Y/N] shook her head, surprising most of the crew as she looked over the ocean with a sad smile.

“I knew the moment Clint came for me that a normal life was not something I could have anymore,” [Y/N] sighed, her mind drifting to the letter she had hid in her room for just this occasion. Eventually, her family would find it and hopefully… They’d understand.

“[Y/N],” Clint spoke up, looking guilty for dragging her away, but she held up her bandaged hand to stop him.

“It’s not your fault,” she soothed, “If not you, then someone else would have asked for my help.” She paused, taking in a breath and finally putting to words the feelings she held and could never deny. “And I would have gone without another thought. That’s just how I am.”

“Is there any place you’d like to go?” Steve gently asked, “I hear Wakanda’s a nice place if you’re interested.”

“Doesn’t the King of Wakanda kind of hate you for foiling his plan for revenge against Bucky?”

“A lot has happened since then.”

“Hmm…”

She was a bit curious, but her ambition was lost and she felt a bit depleted. There was no goal she could strive for, so motivation was hard to find. There was no family, hidden and safe, that she could return to, like Hawkeye. She didn’t have the never-ending loyalty towards the American people, like Captain America. And she wasn’t all that sure she could keep up with him, like Falcon, if she were to follow under the Captain’s command. In fact, it took most of her energy just smiling to reassure her fellow teammates that she was alright.

Where do I want to go? What do I want to do?

“Thank you for the offer, Steve,” [Y/N] finally answered, a particular spider flashing across her mind, “but there’s someone I’d like to meet before I leave.”

Author’s Note: The quote above is a mix of two Captain America quotes from the comics :) "I cannot represent the American government; the president does that. I must represent the American people. I represent the American dream, the freedom to strive to become all that you dream of being. Being Captain America has been my American dream.” - Captain America #180 "I'm loyal to nothing, General, except the dream." - Daredevil: Born Again

[PART 8]

Tags: @themeanestlittlewitch @stressedandbandobessed7771 @moistpotatobear

[albyoriordan-blog]

Alby Quinn O’Riordan

Hey gang! I’m Len. I’m 26, and I prefer they/them pronouns. I used to play this dear, a while ago, in another RP, but I’d like to continue his story a few years after the events of that RP (with a few tweaks because it was a very specific themed RP). I look forward to getting to know y’all! ^^ 

(p.s. my ‘w’ and ‘t’ keys are giving me a bit of grief right now, so if you come across a missing one or a couple extras, I’m really sorry! I’m supposed to have my computer serviced ASAP

EDIT: It’s going in for a service tomorrow but I’ve been assured that it shouldn’t take too long because it should just be an issue with the keys. I’m hoping to take a quick hiatus and just waiting to hear back from the admins re. that as well, sorry!)

Alby Quinn O’Riordan was born on the 18th of January, 1983, to a young, single mother in Dungarvan, County Waterford, Ireland. 

His mother, Rose, was born and raised in Cobh, County Cork, and was 16 when she fell pregnant with him to a local boy, her childhood friend. Her parents were devout Catholics, and her father couldn’t accept that his youngest child had betrayed him, so the young woman was turned out of house and home. She made her way north along the coast to the town of Dungarvan, where she was able to make a life for herself there. 

When Alby was 5 years old, he and his mother immigrated to America, where his mother got work in an Irish Pub called ‘Murphy’s’ in New York City. The elderly couple who owned it had lost their only son at a young age and adopted the hardworking Rose and her young son as their own. 

A year later, his father walked back into the lives of Rose and Alby for the first time in the young man's life. He hadn’t known Rose had been pregnant, only to learn about it after she had left town. Over the next few years, his parents would rebuild their relationship, giving him three siblings in the space of 30 years. With the last sibling, Dana Gwynn, born when Alby was 26. 

Ten years later, Alby’s adoptive grandparents retired to Mrs. Murphy’s home city of Toronto and left the pub to their adopted daughter. 

Alby grew up loving to dance and paint. From a young age, his mother had him in dance classes - with ballet being a particular favourite of his. It was here that he would meet his first love. Harry Park was a young Korean boy who had been born in the city to two immigrant parents, and the two immediately hit it off. They were inseparable and soon became a couple. 

The two boys dated for almost two years before Harry was killed in an unprovoked attack on his 18th birthday. The teenaged couple had been walking back to the Park’s apartment, discussing their plans to move in together that summer for college, when they were jumped by four boys from their high school. They had been given a lot of shit in the past by these particular boys, with the hot-headed Alby getting into physical altercations a number of times. This time, however, they went for Harry and he didn’t make it out. Alby was left beaten and bloodied and scarred of love. 

Fast forward almost 5 years, Alby would fall in love for the second time in his life. He was covering a shift at his mother’s pub the summer after he graduated college with a degree in High School Education when in walked Evan Sullivan, the man who would, in 14 short months, become his husband. 

Friendship came easy to Evan and Alby, with the two men becoming fast friends. No friendship had ever been so easy for the Irishman, especially not after Tom. One of the things that made their relationship so easy was the fact that Evan was a straight man. Despite their friendship and their different sexual preferences, their friendship was riddled with sexual tension and attraction. Evan was everything Harry hadn’t been. Evan was strong and masculine, where Harry had been delicate and androgynous. Evan had blond-haired, blue eyes, and tanned skin, whereas Harry had had dark hair and eyes, and fair skin. Evan was loud and extroverted, whereas Harry had been quiet and reserved. Evan was a cop, but Harry had wanted to be a ballerino. The two did share, however, a wicked sense of humour. 

Alby shouldn’t have wanted him, he was off-limits, but he wanted him desperately.

Six months into their friendship, after a boys night out, the two men shared their first kiss. It was hot and passionate and filled with promise. It was a drug and Alby was hooked. Evan reacted badly to the kiss, severing ties with Alby and sending the Irishman into a deep funk. 

Their separation barely lasted a week, with Evan showing up to Alby’s apartment, looking just as wrecked as he felt. The blond explained that he’d been in the closet since he’d been a teen and feared his homophobic father’s wrath. The week he’d spent apart from Alby, however, had helped him to see that his relationship with the Irishman and being true to himself was more important than his fear of his father, but they decided to take things slow and started seeing each secretly. 

The secret relationship soon became too much for Alby, who found himself falling in love with the blond and he came clean. He couldn’t understand why Evan was so desperate to keep their budding love hidden from the world when Alby only wanted to shout it from the rooftop. The two fought once more with horrible words spoken by both parties and they went their separate ways. 

On his way home, however, Alby’s uber got into an accident, with his driver and one other driver dying on the scene. While Alby was badly hurt, he survived with a little memory loss - which soon healed - and a large scar down the left side of his face reaching from his brow to his jaw. Evan barely left his side the entire time he was in the hospital and not long after he was discharged, the two were engaged. Like their courtship, they had a whirlwind engagement and married quickly, the two settling easily into married life. After a scare as big as almost losing each other, they didn’t want to waste another moment apart. Evan’s father, Steven, disowned him, but his mother, Helen, supported them fully - even going as far as to leave Mark for how badly he had treated their son. Alby’s parents had always been supportive of their son and they soon fell into playing happy families, welcoming Helen as one of their own.

Not long after tying the knot, Alby left his job as a teacher. His heart had never really been in the job, and he much preferred working one-on-one or with small groups of kids. Unsure of what to do, he took over running the pub for his mother who had her hands full with a surprise pregnancy as a way to earn money and pass the time until the right job came along. He found the job came easy to him having grown up in that environment, often doing his homework at that very bar, and he enjoyed how busy it kept him. He found himself thriving in the position. It was the perfect job for someone as friendly and extroverted as himself. A year later, it was his.

After a year of marriage, Evan and Alby decided to begin the process to have a child. Alby’s maternal cousin, Katie offered to be their surrogate and they used Evan’s sperm. They went to therapy with Katie to make sure this was right and the process took them another year before they were ready to do the embryo transfer. Their first attempt not only took, but the embryo ended up splitting and almost 38 weeks later, their twin boys Asher Fionn and Felix Cole were born on the 1st of November, 2009.

Alby and Evan O’Riordan were married nine happy years before they were torn apart. Evan had been made a sergeant early in their marriage before progressing to dog squad, and rarely saw much active duty as their marriage progressed. He hadn’t even been on the job when his life had been cut short. He had taken their dogs (three German Shepards - two of which were retired police dogs both past partner’s of Evan’s, and the third being his current partner) for a jog when he was shot in a mugging gone wrong. Jess and Duke, were shot and killed trying to protect their master, while Skipper - their son - was badly injured trying to do the same. Alby had been distraught when he’d received the news and closed off once again. The only thing that kept him going where their boys, Tricks and Skipper.

On the day he buried Evan, Alby O’Riordan sold the pub and the flat they’d made their home above it. He’d initially tried to give it back to his mother, but she and his father had taken his younger sisters and moved to Toronto three years earlier, to be with her elderly adoptive parents, and they weren’t planning on ever moving back. 

There was nothing keeping them in New York any longer. No matter where he went, he was reminded of his husband and the life they had shared together. With the money he made on the flat, he purchased an apartment just big enough for his family’s needs and moved his broken family to Toronto. He needed his parents. His boys needed their grandparents. He needed to heal. 

Alby hadn’t planned on opening a new pub at all, let alone so soon after his loss, but he found one desperately in need of repair and threw himself into fixing it up. It was slow going, with Alby juggling family commitments and his mother trying to make him have a social life, but a year and a half after moving to Toronto, O’Riordan’s Irish Pub was open for business. 

The Irishman is still very much in his own shell. He puts on a strong act for his family and a cheery expression at the pub, but he’s heard speculation over why his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s friendly and charming and always willing to lend an ear, but he never opens up beyond surface-level information. He doesn’t really let anyone close to him, though he knows he has to. Eventually, he’s going to have to let someone in. It isn’t healthy to keep such dark feelings and emotions bottled up. He has others relying on him after all. Alby's just not sure if he’s ready for that, but maybe one day.

[sansloii-a]

MIKAH [REDACTED]’S RP PLOTTING CHEAT-SHEET

want new-and-exciting plots for your character? long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? fear not! fill out this form and give

your rp partners both present and future all the of juicy JUMPING OFF POINTS they need to help you get your characters acquainted.

be sure to TAG THE PLAYERS WHOSE CHARACTERS YOU WANT MORE CUES TO INTERACT WITH, and REPOST, DON’T REBLOG! feel free to add or remove sections as you see fit. template here.

MUN NAME:  marshy / morp / just about every mispelling of “marshy” OOC CONTACT: you can reach me via tumblr im + discord via animaershy#8757 ( mutuals only, please! )

WHO THE HECK IS MY MUSE ANYWAY:

mikah is many things ( a charmer, a liar, a flatterer, a con artist, a murderer, an asshole, etc. ). However, for simplicity’s sake, we’ll just call them a thief with many talents. they’re a very secretive individual that has a track record of being extremely deceitful and manipulative but they’re very good at their job. they excel at breaking into areas they shouldn’t be in, obtaining information they shouldn’t be privy to, and acquiring items they absolutely shouldn’t have. they’ve also been known to dabble in kidnapping, intimidation, interrogation, etc. ( but that costs extra, haha ) they’ll work for anyone that’s able to afford them because let’s be real, mikah is not cheap and is a favorite among the corrupt social elite, established wealthy crime families, and various organized criminal groups.

aside from all their wrong-doings, though, they’re a very friendly, chatty redhead with an infectious smile and flirtatious personality. 

POINTS OF INTEREST:

their appearance ‘cause mikah’s attractive and they use this to their advantage all the damn time. they’ll bat their eyelashes at complete strangers and kiss up to them if they know it’ll yield a reward ( or something like it ).

their secretiveness is another one. mikah likes to know everything about everyone they're acquainted with but is hard pressed to share information about themselves. this is partially why they’re so chatty and like to talk. steering conversations to topics they’d much rather discuss is a very common thing that mikah does and more oft than not, it’s intentional. they’re a “tit-for-tat” individual but not when it comes to personal information.

in general, mikah’s the pretty face ya wanna talk to but probably shouldn’t unless you’re comfortable with losing something valuable.

WHAT THEY’VE BEEN UP TO RECENTLY:

thread dependent, to be honest. they’re still doing what they usually do--cheating, stealing, and lying--and they don’t seem like they’ll ever be inclined to take it easy any time soon.

WHERE TO FIND THEM:

Frequently: United States + several other locations in North America Occasionally: Anywhere else 

CURRENT PLANS:

currently, i’m working on a little something in which mikah’s past trangressions come back to bite them in the ass. they’ve got a couple skeletons in their closet from several mistakes they’ve yet to recitify. on top of that, i’m working on a series of chatlog/conversations between mikah and someone close to them that’ll give y’all a clearer idea of what mikah’s done in the past, who they’ve pissed off, and what kind of individual they truly are. dunno how long it’s gonna be but i’m still excited for it. ( a couple are up right now and another one is scheduled for tomorrow )

DESIRED INTERACTIONS:

someone hire mikah to steal shit for you pls. they are expensive but i promise you’ll get your money’s worth.

better yet: let mikah hire you. they’ll pay you well.

OFFERED INTERACTIONS:

pretty much anything within reason and if you’ve got an idea for our muses, feel free to hmu so we can toss ideas back and forth. however, i won’t do prestablished romantic relationships ( past or otherwise ) because it would interfere with mikah’s canon.

CURRENT OPEN POST/S:

i don’t have any opens atm and i won’t be making any anytime soon because i’m swamped with drafts ;w; i will when i’m not dROWNING in stuff but in the mean time, just im me if you wanna start something

ANYTHING ELSE?:

please be patient because i am a slow marshmallow. my weekdays are very busy and draining so i’m not very active monday to friday ( aside from my queue and scheduled posts ). because of this, i will never pressure y’all to rush anything or reply to something you aren’t feeling the muse for. all i ask is that you extend the same courtesy to me please and thank you.

also i’m all for plotting stuff via IM or discord. i think it’s *kisses her fingies* delicious so feel free to jump at me and be like “hey i wanna do this thing between mikah and my muse.” and we can build up from there

TAGGED BY: @cadcnce ( ty ty ) TAGGING: @dissimulxte @lucian-silvestris @theirinnocencelost @feyqs @banditborn @aseraphime @sonofthemxrning @barathrus @hhemeraa @appxssionato + anyone else that wants to do this. 

[incognitajones]

eleven questions meme

Answer the questions given to you. Make 11 questions of your own. Tag 11 people.

@crazy-fruit tagged me!

1. What are some of your past fandoms? X-Files, Buffy/Angel, Lord of the Rings were the big ones. I've fallen in and out of a few others.

2. Any fond memories/fun stories you can tell from that time? No great stories to tell, really, but I still think fondly of most of the people I got to know—and I've stayed in touch with a few of them, too. Several were (or are now) published authors and/or BNFs, and they were very kind to newbie fan & writer me.

3. A quote that you like? The one I find myself using most often: "The plural of anecdote is not data." (That or "I am so smart, S-M-R-T.")

4. How is your day going? Pretty good so far, but I need to get off Tumblr and write.

5. A book you’d recommend? you picked the wrong question to ask a librarian! That depends, what kind of book do you want to read? Here's a mix of things I've been asked at work lately, plus some personal reading:

Thomas King's The Inconvenient Indian is a good place to start for anyone who wants to learn about Indigenous issues in North America

I'm still making my way through A History of Violence (Óscar Martínez)since it's such an intense read, but it's very good

one of my go-to suggestions for fantasy readers will always be the Earthsea series by Ursula Le Guin (If you've already read that, try her Western Shore books)

or if you enjoy twisty, dark psychological mysteries, Tana French is a good bet

6. Best thing for breakfast? Properly made (i.e. not gluey) oatmeal with brown sugar and blueberries.

7. Your favourite Star Wars Sidecharacter? I'm not sure what the definition of side character is, especially in Star Wars; if it means someone with a bit role  who you'd love to know more about, right now I'd choose Mon Mothma.

8. Which time of the day do you like the least? Late afternoon; I'm usually trying to finish up everything I need to get done at work, then on a (crowded) bus home, then running errands and/or making dinner in a rush because everyone in the house has other places to be.

9. Would you prefer to be able to fly or breathe underwater? Good one! I'll  say fly, even though it would probably take me a long time to get over my fear of heights and enjoy it.

10. Do you have any secret but kinda useless talent? Tying a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue (thanks to Twin Peaks). One-handed egg-cracking.

11. If you could have any animal in the world as pet, which one would you choose and why? My sweet, silly chocolate Lab alive and well again. :( But if that's too much of a downer, I'd take a really big cat, like a tiger or a panther.

My questions:

1. What was the last movie you saw in a theatre? 2. Are you a multishipper or an OTP type of fan? 3. What’s a song you always sing along to? 4. If you could be siblings with a Star Wars character, who would it be? 5. A movie you can’t help but stop and watch when it’s on TV 6. What city/country would you really like to visit? 7. If you had to live in a historical era (i.e. more than 50 years in the past), which would you choose? 8. Would you rather be rich or have amazing talent in your chosen field? 9. That one little pet peeve you know is irrational but still bugs you 10. What’s a favourite small indulgence when you want to treat yourself? 11. As a child, did you have a favourite toy or stuffed animal?

Tagging (always optional): @rex-luscus @fancynewbeasly @mnemehoshiko @oh-nostalgiaa @brynnmclean @lustfulpasiphae @anghraine @serceleste @doptimous @thereigning-lorelai @carry-the-sky

[highbuttonsports]

Toronto Blue Jays’ Joe Carter 1993 toronto blue jays world series champions - Bing images

Our Team

Take me out to the ball game. Take me out with the crowd. Buy me some…well maybe not this season (hopefully though). For some of us, snow is still on the ground and the cool air of winter is still biting our breathe. However, that doesn’t mean baseball isn’t still warming our hearts and our minds. A lot of Jays fans can easily relate to this sentiment, especially those of us that reside north of the border. As “Canada’s team”, there is a strong sense of pride associated with touting that moniker. Toronto is the only franchise in the MLB that has the distinction of being their country of residence’s only one. It really fosters an us against them mentality. It’s a David vs. Goliath thing. A little brother vs. big brother thing. A Superman vs. Batman thing. You get the point.

There’s a long-standing history of the Canada vs. U.S. rivalry rooted in sport. Every December/January brings about the World Junior Championships for hockey with each country perennially battling for the gold medal (the U.S. took it home this past tournament). International women’s hockey has predominantly been a Canada/U.S. fight for top spot since it’s inception. As well, the Olympics has provided many instances of our countries’ amazing rivalry. There was Canadian track star Donovan Bailey’s beating of American Dennis Mitchell in the 100m race at the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta (in world record time no less). More recently, Canadian ice dance darlings Scott Moir and Tessa Virtue “got smoked” (Scott’s words) by U.S. rivals Meryl Davis and Charlie White at the 2014 games in Sochi. Then there is perhaps the best non-baseball example of this good-natured battle in the 2019 NBA Championship by the Toronto Raptors. That was the first NBA title to leave American soil and that wound is still fresh. In fact, many talking heads south of the border still refuse to give the Raps any credit for that win. The prefer to focus on all of Golden State’s excuses (classic sore loser behaviour). All of these are just a sample of the friendly yet heated rivalry that exists between our great nations.

When it comes to baseball that is no different. I am of a certain age to vividly remember everything about the Toronto Blue Jays’ historic rise to the top of the baseball world in 1992. It was the first time the World Series had been played outside of the U.S. in the history of the league. This is America’s past time we are talking about after all, so having a team from Canada trying to take that from them made it about more than just baseball. It’s not as if the Jays came out of nowhere though. They had won the American League Eastern Division title for the second consecutive season and third time in four years coming into the series. So, it was no fluke they were there threatening to take the title out of the U.S.A. for the first time ever. As well, Atlanta Braves brought that annoying swagger with them having lost in the World Series the previous year. They were hungry, a little cocky, and the favourites. After all, what were these guys playing out of a hockey country doing thinking they could be champions of the baseball world? Of course, this story could not be written without mentioning the Game 2 fiasco involving the Canadian flag. Before the game started, during the performance of the National Anthems of the United States and Canada, the U.S. Marine Corps Color Guard accidentally flew the flag of Canada upside down. It was an accident and the Marines went out of their way to apologize while insisting they were honoured to carry it ahead of game 3. That doesn’t mean it didn’t add some extra vitriol to an already contentious battle between the two countries. It perhaps may have even sparked the Jays, as after losing game 1 they went on to win games 2,3, and 4 to take a commanding 3-1 series lead. Atlanta wasn’t going to just lay down though as they fought back in game 5 winning convincingly 7-2. This set up a dramatic game 6 back in Atlanta in front of 51,000+ chanting and chopping Braves fans. If you were a Jays fan back then like me that brutal Atlanta tradition was like nails on a chalk board. Game 6 was a back-and-forth tight pitching duel with the Braves tying the game up in the bottom of the 9th to stave off elimination. After both teams failed to score in the 10th, the Jays jumped out to a 4-2 lead on a Dave Winfield double plating 2 runners. That was the legendary Winfield's first career World Series extra-base hit, and at 41 he was the oldest player in baseball history to record one in the World Series. Atlanta caught a break in the bottom of the inning on a fortunate mid hop bounce to short, turning a sure double play into a 1st and 3rd with nobody out situation. After a sac bunt made it 2nd and 3rd with 1 out, a forced play at 1st on a ground ball scored a run reducing the Jays lead to 1. It was that moment that Atlanta announced the speedy Otis Nixon as a pinch hitter. He was one of the fastest players in the league and a fantastic bunter. Knowing this, Toronto countered with bringing in a right-handed pitcher. It is much easier for a righty to field of bunt towards 1st base since they fall off the mound naturally in that direction. Even though a bunt is not very common with a runner at 3rd and 2 out, with Nixon at the plate it was a big possibility. That’s exactly what happened too. Otis bunted, Timlin fielded the ball perfectly, and dished it to Carter at 1st for the final out. That secured the 1st World Series title in Blue Jays franchise history as well as the 1st title to leave the USA.

If that didn’t rile up American baseball aficionados enough, they definitely didn’t get any happier the following year. 1993 brought the Blue Jays back to the World Series to defend their title against the Philadelphia Phillies. This time Toronto meant business and they were the favourites. It was up to Philly to unseat the champs, but the Jays weren’t having any of that notion. They won game 1 of this go around to put themselves in the driver’s seat. The Phillies tied the series at 1-1 by winning game 2, but that was as close as they would get going forward. Even though they fought back with a shut out in game 5 to force another game, it was the battle tested Jays who finished the series off in epic fashion in game 6. This moment is engrained in all Canadians, not just baseball fans. As iconic as the Golden goal which says a lot for a bunch a hockey loving hosers. Just thinking about it again gives me goose bumps. Our boys were down 6-5 going into the bottom of the 9th with feared closer Mitch “Wild Thing” Williams coming into the game to try and push it to a deciding game 7. To say it started out terribly for him is an understatement. He walked future hall of famer (and still holder of the record for most stolen bases all time) Rickey Henderson to begin the inning. That put the heat on him to get the ball to the plate as quick as possible. In order to do that, Mitch used the slide step method. He had never used that move before in his career, but with the uber dangerous Henderson at first, he couldn’t risk giving up a stolen base. That caused him to be out of sync in his delivery and resulted in diminished velocity and control. After the next batter flew out, another future hall of famer in Paul Molitor singled to put runners on 1st and 2nd with 1 out and Joe Carter coming to the dish. Queue the music everyone! That’s when Joe hooked a 2-2 pitch over the left corner wall for a back-to-back World Series winning 3-run homerun and forever immortalizing himself in baseball lore.

It doesn’t get much sweeter than that in sport. What makes those moments even bigger is the connotations of national pride and excellence. It’s no secret that the U.S. has a great reputation of success when it comes to sport. The country houses 4 of the 5 highest grossing sports leagues in the world while having a stranglehold on the media coverage. They are usually the favourites and have the hardware to back that up. That’s why whenever us simple snow-covered folks (up here North of the world’s longest unprotected border) have a chance to wave our flag or sing our Anthem in victory, we do it proudly and loudly. It’s what we hope to be doing later this fall when the 2021 Jays take the field with the highest hopes they have had in years. Not since a certain bat flip 6 years ago perhaps. But we don’t need to go there…do we?

By: Jaymee Kitchenham

[mygangtome]

who were they then, who are they now: richard armitage

My dearest, dearest tumblr user. We’ve been here before, haven’t we? I’ve tried time and again to persuade you to watch this glorious, bonkers, utterly compelling madhouse of a show, and despite my recommendations of yesteryear, you still haven’t been persuaded.

So I’m going to have to bring out the big nose guns.

HEY! ARE YOU IN ANY OF THE FOLLOWING FANDOMS: THE HOBBIT, HANNIBAL, SPOOKS, CAPTAIN AMERICA?

DOES THIS FACE LOOK GOOD TO YOU?

pictured here: god he’s so dashing i hate him so muuhuhuhuch

Ladies, gents, and nonbinary friends, I present to you Richard Crispin Armitage. If you don’t know who he is, you probably haven’t been on Tumblr before.

who he was before?

pictured here: he’s a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity

Back in the hazy, long-gone days of 2006, Richard Armitage already had a more substantial following than a lot of the Robin Hood cast. He’d been around a bit in stage and the small screen; he joined a circus in Budapest, played Macavity in Cats, stood by the side of a pool as eye candy in Cold Feet, gave a career-defining performance as Smug Man At Party in This Year’s Love, and even turned up as an extra in Star Wars.

pictured here: DIDN’T KNOW THAT, DID YOU, EH?

The sudden explosion of Richard into the public consciousness is primarily due to the BBC’s North and South in 2004, in which he played a brooding Northerner who primarily wears black and holds a position of power.

Then he got cast as Guy of Gisborne, a brooding Midlander who solely wears black and holds a position of power.

Typecasting? What’s that?

who was he then?

I’ve talked extensively for previous My Gang To Me days about Guy’s character, and his excellently melodramatic interactions with other characters on the show. He’s the big baddie in a show which needs one; the sneering, scowling foil to Robin’s optimistic heroism. But he’s also generous to a fault, obsessively loving, and full of thwarted ambitions. No other character divides the fandom more - is he a misunderstood good guy or an overindulged crybaby? Are he and Marion meant to be or an abusive relationship? Does he deserve a redemption arc? I DON’T KNOW, I’M NOT THE BOSS OF ROBIN HOOD, STOP ASKING ME ALL THESE QUESTIONS.

pictured here: there’s no such thing as too much eyeliner

Two years ago, I wrote the following about Guy, and it holds true:

More often than not we end our hijinks with an exasperated shout of “GISSSSBORRRRRRNE!” echoing through the castle and a shot of Guy slinking off to explain how he got foiled this week… Despite being a handsome devil, he is so deliciously dislikeable in a proper, old-school, tying-people-to-the-railroad tracks kind of way. And I’ll be honest, it’s worth watching the show just for a demonstration of how Armitage is able to smoulder with all parts of his body up to and including his back.

Where the Sheriff revels in his own villainy, Guy never thinks of himself as anything but The Hero Of This Story, and is all the more gloriously villainous for it. It certainly doesn’t hurt that the show is well aware of the fact that Richard looks nice without a shirt on.

pictured here: how many times can i use this screencap before it become gratuitous

Admittedly, my particular preference is for bearded-and-soulful-Armitage (more on that later on) but you know, any Armitage is good Armitage.

richard on guy

The Thing You Probably Know Already About Richard Armitage is that he is a ~method actor, which means that he takes all his roles Very Seriously. He wrote a diary for Thorin. He underwent waterboarding in order to get in character for his role as Lucas North in Spooks. He got extremely into William Blake for Dolarhyde. And, believe it or not, he also got very emotionally attached to Guy.

Today, [Richard] knocks on [series writer Dominic Minghella’s] door with a pencil and pad. Can he ask me some questions about his character? I tell him, truthfully, that I can’t believe he is here - an actor of his talent, sitting on my sofa, talking to me about playing this part. I feel so lucky. Suddenly, I stop myself - do I destroy what little (gamma-male) authority I have by being so candid? I glance at him. My concerns are unfounded. He is blushing. 

source: interview in sunday telegraph, october 2006

pictured here: richard cosplaying as 80s investment banking!au guy of gisborne

I can’t even be mad at this point. 

His own opinions on Guy are about as complicated as the fandom’s.

“I’m really hoping that when people sit and watch this, when Gisborne is trying to woo Marian they absolutely squirm in their seats and their skin is crawling. That was my main aim with this character, to make people absolutely despise him.” 

source: interview on bbc robin hood website, october 2006 

“His love for Marian is something which is beginning to unravel him and he’s becoming more human through her. It’s actually surprising him. I don’t think he quite realises what’s happening to him - he’s becoming human throughout the course of the series, I think.” 

source: interview on robin hood audiobook, “will you tolerate this?”

who did he become?

pictured here: i’ve never seen spooks so i can’t comment but OOH, DASHING

After Robin Hood, Richard officially became a Household Name when he joined the cast of Spooks as Lucas North, a series regular. Technically he started filming it whilst finishing off Robin Hood, which must have been an experience.

He stayed with Spooks for three years, becoming That Guy Off Spooks With The Face, You Know The One, and also turned his hand to a few other television and film roles over the years. 

He warmed the cockles of our collective hearts when he turned up as Dawn French’s love interest and future husband Harry Kennedy in The Vicar of Dibley. Bit of a jump for him, this one, as it’s a handsome and charming accountant, rather than a handsome and charming spy. Still, he rose to the occasion masterfully, and also got to snog Dawn French, so he won on multiple accounts.

In 2011, he turned up as the bespectacled Nazi spy Heinz Kruger in Captain America: The First Avenger. He got to have a secret submarine and run around with tommy guns. One time Chris Evans punched him in the face. It was awesome.

And then Thorin happened.

pictured here: majesty~

I will keep this brief, because if I talk too much about Thorin Oakenshield I’ll burst into tears, but it was the role that changed his life.

“I just think it’s a really amazing opportunity to take a character from a book that I was brought to as a child. My first experience on stage was in a production of The Hobbit at the Alex Theatre in Birmingham, and I played an elf.  And Gollum was a papier-mache puppet with a man offstage on a microphone. It’s been in my childhood very prominently, so to come to it as an adult,  a middle-aged man, and have another look at it is a brilliant opportunity." 

source: ‘the hobbit’ cast press conference, february 2011

Yes, that’s right, Richard Armitage is a Tolkien nerd. He wore elf ears made from cereal boxes to see the Two Towers in cinemas (he was thirty years old at the time).  And in 2012 he first graced our screens as Thorin, the proud and noble long-lost king of Erebor and a significant change of pace for a man who had developed a career as shifty, morally-dubious hired killers. 

He developed a reputation on set for being “moody and broody” (his words, not mine), due to all that method acting stuff that kept him fretting about the fate of the dwarven race when everyone else was fretting about lunch, but his performance was hailed as one of the best in the trilogy and - of course - it absolutely transformed his career.

who is he now?

Good question, and really one for Richard himself, or his doctor or his therapist or maybe a priest, but we’ll take a stab at it anyway.

After The Hobbit, Richard took a break from the massive media scrutiny and did what all British actors do when they’re scared, which is be in a play. In his case, the play was The Crucible at the Old Vic (I saw it, it was INCREDIBLE) and it earned him an Olivier nomination.

pictured here: bad timez 4 johnny p

He bounced from that into a couple of movies that you are, on the whole, unlikely to have seen - disaster movie Into The Storm, social drama Urban and the Shed Crew, bizarre fantasy Alice Through The Looking Glass…

But his most iconic role of late has been in Hannibal, as serial-killer-with-a-heart-of-gold-actually-no-wait-he-murders-people Francis Dolarhyde. He joined Hannibal for the last explosive season, and seems to have had a lot of fun killing people and wearing flower crowns and… I don’t know, I don’t go here, I’m doing my best.

pictured here: @nettlestonenell challenged me to fit at least one additional shirtless shot into this post, so here’s naked dolarhyde doing something that’s probably evil

It seems to have gone down well with the fans. And things are only looking up for our boy, who’s filming season two of his spy thriller Berlin Station as we speak. He’s based in London these days - still famously private about his private life, but happy to chat on twitter and instagram - just finished performing in his off-Broadway debut in Mike Bartlett’s Love, Love, Love, earning rave reviews, and he’s got several movies coming up.

my gang, to me!

Have I persuaded you yet that you want to get to know the man who was Guy of Gisborne? Well, you’re in luck - the boy’s been busy. You might see him on the big screen this year in Pilgrimage, or Ocean’s Eight, or Brain on Fire. He’s aging well, like a fine wine, and you only have to poke a toe into his tumblr tag to find that his ‘army’ of fans are as passionate now as they were when Guy first slithered onto our screens, eleven years ago today.

pictured here: then & now

I think he might actually be aging in reverse.

Of course, if you want to see more of Richard, there’s one surefire way to do it - and it’s the reason I made this post. Come along and join the gang in Sherwood, and get to know Guy for yourself! Buy some DVDs, or fire up a stream, and settle down with a couple of glorious episodes of the friendliest, loveliest show in television - BBC Robin Hood. 

No matter how famous he gets, to us, he’ll always be Guy. And we wouldn’t have him any other way.

Sorry, guys. We saw him first.

-

post by @interestinggin / with thanks to richardarmitage.net & richardarmitageonline.com