#only for her to pull out and socially save his ass while LOVING the thrill of it all

[starlooove]

Dickbea JayDana timtam I will always love u

[glowingbadger]

I loved the Ashe, Sylvain, and Hilda modern-day HCs. So….can I ask for….Marianne, Dima, and Claude now? They’re so so good.

Here's a quick list of the places I've touched on ModernAU stuff with these characters before, for anyone who's interested! General Modern HCs (Dimitri) W/ insecure Reader (Claude, Dimitri) W/ insecure Reader (Marianne) Soft HCs (Dimitri)

I'll try not to repeat myself too much, but the SFW portion might be a little sparse because I've written a good deal of my thoughts on that already :3

Marianne, Dimitri, Claude x GN Reader

Modern/College AU headcanons

SFW (not sfw under the cut)

Marianne:

- Definitely a veterinary student who has an incredible, intuitive way with animals. One of those "gets along with animals better than people" types. As a result, many others in her classes see her as aloof or difficult to talk to. Fortunately, when Hilda drags her to a party one night, you notice her keeping to herself and come to make casual conversation. It takes a bit for her to open up, but she's soon grateful for pleasant, relaxing company in the midst of the loud chaos.

- She needs a good amount of reassurance in a relationship, as she's so convinced you could do better. Marianne is totally the type to apologize for not being good enough for you, then apologize for bringing it up, then apologize for apologizing. But her love and admiration for you are so very clear. She'll shyly take your hand in hers, and just the way she looks at you, it's like you're every star and every sunset she's ever seen.

- Marianne spends some of her free time volunteering at a local animal shelter, and one of your earlier dates would involve her introducing you to some of the animals in her care. Here, it's like you see a completely different side of her- she's so much more confident and firm when she speaks to the animals, and she smiles so brightly and laughs adorably as she watches you attempt to make a good impression on them.

Dimitri:

- We've chatted about Modern! Dimitri a good deal so far- but I will double down here on the fact that, while he's outwardly extremely intimidating to your friends when you first start dating, you know (and they learn) that he's absolute Malewife material.

- He loves sitting on video calls with you and just staring at your adorable, lovely face. He's an excellent listener, and will gladly hear about your entire day from start to finish, even if you insist it was nothing special. He's just so soothed by your voice, and the chance to see you. While he's honestly not very good at social media in general, he does have a couple hundred pictures of you saved. Not to post anywhere, just to look back at with a goofy grin on his face.

Claude:

- Claude is the guy on campus that everyone likes, plenty of people want, but no one can really nail down. He seems to know everyone, but he's only actually close to a few good friends, and for the longest time, even they assume that he's the "doesn't believe in serious dating" type. It starts much the same with you- he figures you're interesting and cute as hell, so he may as well spend some time having fun and getting to know you. And then... the feels TM creep in.

- You'll be caught up in a sort of... friendly flirtation with him for a while. The kind where it would be easy to play off all of the corny innuendos and knowing glances as "just kidding around." Then, one night, after a long group study session or just lazing around with drinks and games with his friends, he offers to walk you back to your dorm. When you get caught in a sudden downpour and have to duck under the nearest building's awning for shelter, he gives you a strange lingering look that's so much heavier than any you've seen. And without a word, he leans down to kiss you. When you part, he's wearing a slanted smile, but he's fidgeting a bit when he says, "Hey, uh, Y/N. I wanna be with you- for real. So uh... how 'bout it?"

- Claude is just the most fun boyfriend ever. He's got an active and curious mind, so he's always game to try anything you're interested in, and you'll never be at a loss for date ideas. He's the kind who gets okay grades, though nothing incredible, but his brilliance shines in how he latches on to new information, turning a topic around in his mind until he's seen it from every angle. It's especially charming when he asks to hear about your interests or areas of expertise- he asks all the right questions and the conversation becomes lively just about instantly.

NSFW 18 + v

Marianne:

- You're definitely her first sexual partner (she hasn't even dated seriously until you), and she's going to take a long time to get comfortable freely exploring the physical side of a relationship. She's a big cuddler, once you've assured her that you like it too- she finds it immensely soothing to rest her head on your shoulder or on your chest, just listening to your breathing and feeling you warm against her. But as for sexual affection, she'll start slow, testing things by letting her gentle hands tentatively wander just a little further than before, or deepening your kiss a little more than usual.

- Best practice with Marianne is to let her be the one to suggest or initiate things, but to respond enthusiastically when she does so she knows you're happy with it and you want her as much as she wants you. Your approval and encouragement fills her with warmth she's never felt before, and a sense of bold desire she hadn't even known she was capable of. There's plenty of communication with her- there has to be -but in a way, that becomes its own sort of eroticism. Soft murmurs of, "is this okay?", "does that feel good?", or "can you take more?" mix in with affirmative sighs and moans, turning the negotiation of comfort into a wonderful, slowly escalating path towards satisfaction.

- She's absolutely mortified by the idea of sexting or sending nudes, but if she sends you an outfit she's considering and reply with a coy "You look amazing- can't wait to take that off of you" (honestly the cheesier the better with the pickup lines- being too smooth would intimidate her)- she'll only respond with a single blushing emoji, but you bet she'll be wearing that outfit to your next date.

Dimitri:

- Everyone on campus, including your friends/roomates see Dimitri as such a pure cinnamon roll that you might be surprised to learn he has a rather healthy sex drive underneath all of that sweetness and affection. Granted, he's definitely most likely to desire you when he feels emotionally close to you- but that won't stop him from fucking you nice and deep until your bed creaks. The first time someone overhears you practically screaming out his name, rumors start spreading that your ever-devoted Malewife is actually legendary in bed. It's mostly a raunchy joke, but as far as you're concerned, they're not exactly wrong.

- He's too nervous to actually save any of the spicy pics you've sent him to his phone, but that doesn't stop him from regularly scrolling back through your message threads to find them. Masturbating to porn is fine and good, but when he can look at you biting your lip as you show off your body to him, he pumps his cock and bucks his hips against his hand until he cums far harder than he's used to. Dimitri especially gets a thrill out of the implied part of this- the fact that you wanted to flaunt yourself to him like this and made sure that he would linger on the sight of you.

- A very fun game is to comment or imply something about how good Dimitri fucks you while you're hanging out with his friends. He stammers and turns bright red when you mention how, "Oh don't you worry, Dimitri keeps me nice and satisfied, don't you babe?" with your eyebrows quirked playfully. His buddies nudge him and laugh, and as timid as he appears about it, he'll need you as soon as you're alone together, and he'll hold you extra close and pound into you a little harder than usual.

Claude:

- Alright. Claude is hot, and Claude knows he's hot, and he has no problem using this to his advantage. He'll absolutely send you gym selfies, or raunchy messages when he knows you're with friends or family. During minor disagreements or when you're pretending to be mad at him, he'll slip an arm around your waist and nibble at your ear, whispering, "C'mon babe, don't be like that..." before pulling you close and kissing you until you can't think straight.

- He absolutely doesn't care if people overhear you- in fact, he'll tease you about it, murmuring in your ear that you can't keep moaning for him like that or you'll be heard. But the fact that he's fucking into you harder and deeper as he says it tells you clearly that he wants you to cry out for him. In general, he's pretty shameless about your shared sex life if you allow him to be. He'll practically strut out of your room to clean up in just his boxers, not caring a bit if your roommates get an eyeful. He's handsy in public as well (again, depending on your comfort with it), and will absolutely grab a handful of your ass while you're on a date together, or trail his hand up your thigh during a movie.

- Claude is adventurous and open minded about sex in general, as I've mentioned a couple times. Hell, he'll even send you a porn clip or a bit of smut, along with a brief "we should try this ;)"- and he obviously loves when you do the same for him. He sees no reason to be shy with his partner about your mutual pleasure. Communicating your preferences will make sure you both enjoy yourselves, and the process of even talking about it can be pretty hot on its own.

[seyaryminamoto]

my school works are piled up this past few weeks (graduating tingz) and i just started reading the deadlock novel it feels like i'm reading a sokkla fic every time Mcashe has a scene because they just give off the vibes skskskskksksks. BTW, what's your top5 fav scenes from the novel? PS: I'm smiling like an idiot while reading the novel ughh i hate myself

I KNOW, RIIIIIGHT?! *-* and don't hate yourself, my anon friend, I spent the whole novel smiling and laughing and losing my goddamn mind because I was having the time of my life xD enjoy this beautiful content as best you can!

I mean, frankly, Reunion already had all the Sokkla vibes I could've wanted/needed to ship these two like FedEx and I always knew I wasn't getting off this ride anytime soon. But gosh, this book... it gave me everything I wanted and MORE! Their dynamics are soooo similar to Sokkla team-up dynamics, two power couples kicking ass and taking names... oh, I just love it so much. I probably will end up reading the book a third time soon x'D

As for my favorite scenes, damn, this is tricky xD

KEYCHAIN! HE MADE HER KEYCHAIN!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! God, it's just amazing how the book explains the "vintage" look for Ashe's hoverbike the way it does, and that they literally built it together *screams!!!*, but then he gives her that keychain for her birthday present, and the implications!! THE IMPLICATIONS!!! He gave her a keychain she's held onto for TWENTY YEARS?!?!?! Ships in the OW fandom have sailed far and wide with less than breadcrumbs: we literally have been granted a boon from the GODS with all this extra context for the little things in Reunion xD

Ashe going to hell and back to save her kidnapped BFF-for-whom-she-totally-doesn't-have-feelings-yeah-yeah-sure-Jan. I love the fact that McCree is, in a way, Ashe's damsel in distress and not the other way around xD Of course, it's what you'd expect from an Ashe-centric story, but it's still an amazing sequence, all around. Gotta highlight how she loves the way he smiles like a madman when they have that shootout at the end, and how he worries so much over Ashe's injury when he took an even worse one than she did (the Sokkla vibes in that particular situation were SO STRONG! I SWEAR!).

"Jesse McCree, are you trying to make me say you're handsome?" "Am I?" ... do I need to say more. That FLIRTING. These two were on fire already and they'd only known each other for like... weeks, at this point? x'D He has no sense of moderation, he's soooo into her and doesn't hide it at all. Ashe is so busy trying to plot all the crime and Jesse's practically like a shojo heroine, "oh I can feel it, this is how my love story begins!", basically xD

Finally I pick a not-McAshe scene... to bring up the one where Ashe picks up the Viper on her last moment in Lead Rose Manor. That moment was just... POWERFUL. The feeling of epicness in that scene just overwhelmed me when I was reading it xD

The ending of the book :'D the fully formed Deadlock Gang ready for business, down to the explanation for the Est. 1976 in the logo... *sobs* the fact that so much about the character design choices in these two characters is a shoutout to the past they share is just... *gross sobbing* oh, I just love it to pieces, I'm not even sorry.

Ashe's bike race to save B.O.B. x'D that whole situation was bonkers but I looooved how fierce she was about protecting her one and only buddy while growing up (AND THAT JESSE BLUSHED WHEN SHE TAUNTED HIM WAS JUST THE CHERRY ON TOP!). I appreciated learning more about the Omnic War and its consequences, how Ashe reflects on having escaped it practically untouched in virtue of her money and societal privilege while her new friends all faced many hardships to survive. But I can't help but also love that, however uneasy others could have been about the Best Omnic Butler, Ashe was so fiercely loyal to B.O.B. that she nearly broke Julian's nose herself over his ridiculousness x'D That's HER big omnic buddy and she's not about to lose him to anyone, not her shitty parents, not a bet in a race, NOTHING! (and it's so cute that B.O.B. is just as loyal to her, too *sobs*)

Ashe grabbing McCree's arm to explain things to him on their first heist and him being all "you gonna leave that there?" and only then does she realize her hand's still on him x'D what a McCree line, and he was absolutely enjoying the attention, he doesn't even pretend otherwise.

Everything poetic McCree says or does... meanwhile Ashe's like "um yeah I don't care about poetry I want money", right until his poet soul totally smashes her square in the heart with the KEYCHAIN!!! But damn, I swear I thought McCree would hold back a lot more, and yet there he was, saying things like Calamity was brilliant and mysterious... you could practically hear B.O.B., Julian and Frankie going "I can see what's happening..." in the background xD

The conversation about what they wanted to do once they were loaded with all the cash they could possibly want. That one was a real number on my heartstrings. It ties up to what I said earlier with Ashe finally being in touch with people who are completely removed from the ridiculous social circles of her parents and her school, people who really lost a lot in the war. But where Julian and Frankie seem to look at the past a lot, I loved that Jesse is basically just thinking about the future. The fact that he says he wants to chill out in a farm and that this is what he wants in life... many, MANY, shippy wheels have turned in my head since I read that <.< maaaany...

WHEN JESSE NEARLY FALLS AND ASHE CATCHES HIM!!! UNDERRRATED AS HECK!!! The fact that he's taunting her about fear of heights, then he nearly plummets to his death because ironies are beautiful xD and Ashe pulls him back to safety only to say that she's not afraid of heights but afraid of ~FALLING~??? I mean, okay, sure, maybe I'm reading too much into that line... or maybe I'm not <.< either way, the truth is I just love how absolutely broad of interpretation that scene and that DIALOGUE are :> ehehehe.

Oh, their first encounter. The fact that it's so cute and fun, and that it's this low in the list tells you how GOOD this book was x'D "You've got an awful lot of grit for a rich girl," first words he spoke to the love of his life xD then how they talked and laughed together about the crazy stories he shared (she was crying of laughter for the first time in her life! precious girl!), and then how she sat in the car thinking about the strange feeling she was left with after meeting him... they seriously had a meetcute in prison, how can a ship get any better? xD

WHEN HE COMES BACK TO HER WHEN THEIR FIRST HEIST GOES WRONG!!! That Ashe expects him to just leave after she falls off their getaway vehicle, but Jesse saves her and goes "pfft that's just not my style", basically... *sobs* without realizing it she ends up picking up that particular philosophy of his, saving her friends no matter the cost...! Honestly, though, the fact that every time something like this happens it hits Ashe like a truck racing downhill with no brakes because she's NEVER been cared about by anyone but B.O.B. and she's completely new to friendships and bonding with people... and in the mean time, Jesse immediately is "ride or die" with her because that's how he rolls... beautiful relationship dynamics between characters who influence each other for the better are just beautiful :')

A silly one here: Jesse enjoying the good life in Lead Rose. That description of him looking like a marshmallow in the CHAISE LOUNGEEEEE!!! (the one he references in their in-game interactions *CRYING SO MANY TEARS*), was just too cute to bear x'D Ashe just jumping back into work mode... while he was just thrilled to be a marshmallow in a towel xD

... So, um, I went overboard because I love this book a little too much for my own good :> what can I say? When things I love are good, I go wild xD There's probably more scenes I loved, but these... thirteen? XD are the ones that came to mind.

I think one of my favorite things now is reexamining Reunion with all this extra context in mind. The first time I watched that cinematic I, of course, fell in love with these two outlaws because how could I not? But while subsequent rewatches revealed a lot of things I didn't pay enough attention to the first time around, the book has done even more than I could imagine possible for a short that was already as shippy as could be xD

Ooookay so, shippy ramblings about Reunion, coming up! (simply because I have to put these down SOMEWHERE XD and your ask was a good idea for that, anon!)

First off, Jesse very much staged the whole rodeo in Reunion. He sent the tip to Ashe, he wanted Echo's crate specifically. He thought they could work together, basically, despite knowing it was entirely possible that those hopes wouldn't pay off. This train, according to the wikia, was a government train, so Jesse is very much telling Ashe to give a finger to the government for all he cares, all he wants is one (1) crate.

Ergo, Jesse, for all his "nice guy bountyhunter" deal, doesn't disapprove of Deadlock's actions. If anything, he counts on them to be exactly what he needs in order to get what he wants. He practically trusts Ashe to pull off the train heist disaster perfectly and only steps up when it's time to collect Echo.

Then the wacky shoot-out happens, it's veeeery charged (the UST is so thick, I swear...), and Jesse wins. He ties up Ashe, floats her off on the payload with the rest of the gang, and he sets Echo free. He's helping her out very nicely and everything, but the context in question is... he received the recall notification thingy XD Winston called him back to Overwatch, and Jesse...

... Jesse doesn't want to go back.

Jesse says "they want me", and the displeased tone of his voice, paired with the look on his face when he says that line, speak for themselves.

That, in my humble opinion, isn't the sequence of expressions you'd expect from someone who intends to return to the group where he thrived, had the time of his life and found his true calling. To me, he actually looks irritated about the recall (the sequence of expressions during that line is much better when you watch the full thing x'D), as though he REALLY doesn't want to return. He's not against Overwatch, I'm not quite saying that, otherwise he wouldn't have set Echo free and told her to go back at all... but this isn't remorse. It's not "Oh, I'm not good enough for Overwatch anymore". Nope... this is "My time with them is over and I don't plan on going back unless I have no choice", as far as I can tell.

If OW2 does bring him back into the fold and he's a perfectly chill and happy guy about it, I'll seriously be surprised. I mean, he could have set Echo free and, once his business is over, returned to Overwatch with her, he could have been in the Paris cinematic if he'd done that...

But he's not there.

Which outright says he didn't do that :> oops.

Basically, I think Jesse's reaction in Retribution (where he's markedly the most morally correct one of the bunch, and he's the former outlaw :'D) tells you his displeasure with Overwatch ran very, very deep. And someone can very easily say he felt the same way about Deadlock and that's why he left them for Overwatch... but that's conjecture. His displeasure with Blackwatch (and, in consequence, Overwatch), however, is FACT. And the previous conjecture falls flat pretty quickly considering he's perfectly fine with Ashe's train heist, even sets it up himself, from what the story suggests, so... how ~appalled~ was he over her choices and actions? Not appalled at all, if you ask me, and after you read Deadlock Rebels, you actually understand why: Jesse trusts Ashe.

From the first moment she enters the same prison block he's in, he's drawn to her. He wants to impress her, he absolutely enjoys her company and making her laugh (just as much as she enjoyed laughing at his wacky stories), and he's plain thrilled that she comes back for him when she does. Ashe manages the gang with inexperience but she's always willing to improve, and you see Jesse sticking with her through thick and thin, supporting her at the best and worst times alike, always putting his faith on her and constantly watching out for her (he protected and shielded her from attacks with his own body sooooo many times *sobs*). Ashe starts out intending to keep most profits for herself, and Jesse doesn't care much at first... but then she starts to share profit equally between their team. She works on her own bike herself, her own ride, and she plans and solves problems as best she can, to a point of even going overboard with planning too much. She's wild, reckless and takes insane risks... and this guy loves every second of it. The matter of morality regarding the actions of a criminal gang is, of course, something to think about... but as far as the book goes, Ashe mainly targets her own family, their specific brand of bullshit, and in the process she ends up helping lots of people and even saving lives that might not have been saved otherwise. I'm not going to put my hand on the fire here and say Deadlock never ever did anything absolutely wrong to people who didn't deserve it... but for a criminal gang? They're honestly the most wholesome one the OW team could have come up with, if you ask me.

So where you see Jesse is very much antagonistic with Reaper/Reyes, where he loses his temper with the guy's choices, he doesn't ever do that with Ashe. Overwatch ARE supposed to be the good guys... so how weird that Jesse McCree, reformed outlaw, ends up so disappointed with these guys when he was actually thrilled with Ashe's managing of their gang, as far as we saw. So much so that, when it came down to it, Jesse McCree, 20 years later, still counts on Ashe to give him a hand (without her full awareness) with a little operation to help out an old friend of his. Also worth pointing out: he doesn't want to fight at all, while Ashe, of course, does. Deadlock for life, is what Jesse said... and he's not Deadlock anymore, hasn't been for who knows how long. Worse yet... his tattooed arm is gone. It's like all his ties to Deadlock have been severed.

And even so, he came to Ashe and hoped she wouldn't want a shootout with him. Even when he knows she might be beyond unforgiving because of the betrayal (he has seen directly how outraged she was about a certain someone betraying her in the book...), Jesse goes back anyway and hopes it won't come to this.

THE IMPLICATIONS, MAN!!!

Carrying on: Echo is surprised that Jesse shows no intentions of going back to Overwatch. She asks him what he's going to do... and what does Jesse say?

He puts his cowboy hat back on (the symbolism in this short, I swear...), and when she asks him what he's going to do, he tells her "I've got some business to attend to."

THE MUSIC PICKS UP.

AND THEN HE CLIMBS ON THE BIKE HE BUILT WITH ASHE.

YOU GET A DELIBERATE CLOSE-UP TO THE KEYCHAIN.

THEN THE CAMERA PANS UP TO FOCUS ON THE PICTURE, TORN AND TAPED BACK TOGETHER, THAT ASHE CARRIES ON THIS BIKE, A BIKE WHICH, LET'S BE REAL, IS BASICALLY A MCASHE BABY CHOPPER/HOVERBIKE HYBRID, AND AS SHE PUTS IT LATER, IS...

HER

BIKE!!!

When Jesse says he has business to attend to, he could pick up any bike he wants (since it'd stand to reason that the other guys Ashe came in with would have bikes of their own). He could escape on horseback for all we know xD so there are lots of options... but no. He takes HERS. Right after saying he has "business to attend to".

Look, I could be wrong. I could be dead wrong. I can absolutely be digging around and going INSANE because nothing I ship EVER gets this much content.

But we literally get a guy saying he has "business" to take care of, and the cinematic focuses exclusively on elements that, even BEFORE Deadlock Rebels, all point towards Ashe?! You could easily say that taking her bike is just the final nail on the coffin, his last trolling idea to mess with his one true love... but that picture is right there. That picture, with them in their youth. The picture, btw, was bigger than just them: B.O.B.'s hand is there. The top of the picture is uneven, suggesting Ashe probably tore it to shreds in a fit of rage... and then specifically put together THEIR PART. And then she taped that to her bike's dashboard. Meaning, she carries the goddamn memory of Jesse with her EVERYWHERE SHE GOES. And she does it WILLINGLY.

Which, in turn, answers why Jesse expects MAYBE Ashe wouldn't go full-on hostile when they meet: this trolling cowboy knows exactly what he means to Ashe. He's not surprised when he sees that picture on the bike. He doesn't toss it away, which he could have, if he were saying "we are history now, forget it gurl" (and let's be honest, what a dick move that would have been @_@), he doesn't flinch after noticing and then goes "yeah, no, I'm picking another bike".

NOPE. The familiarity with which they talk, the way he hopes she'll just let him walk away, the fact that she DIDN'T change the keychain and bike in all those years and he's not even SURPRISED...

Jesse knows how much she loves him, point-blank. He's completely aware of it... and he's very much okay with it.

So much so... that I'm something of a 90% sure that the business he intends to deal with is ASHE HERSELF.

And no, I don't mean he's going to go on another shootout with her... I mean, evidently, that Jesse wants to come home. That he's tried the life of Overwatch, and he's decided to leave it behind. He's turned bountyhunter now, vigilante, pretty much... but he comes back to Ashe all the same. He's come back for the first time in who knows how long (going by Ashe's expressions and sarcasm with the "you promised you'd write" line, it miiiiiiight be they haven't seen each other since he got recruited into Blackwatch), and he expected a peaceful encounter, no less.

A good question to ask here is... what did Jesse hope would happen, if the encounter HAD been peaceful? He would've released Echo, sent her away to her business, and stayed behind anyway because he had business to deal with. Which business? :'D why... the business that would've been standing right in front of him.

There's no other, logical reason why this cinematic would put Ashe and McCree's picture into focus right when McCree says what he does to Echo. There's no other reasonable choice why McCree would turn his back on Overwatch quite so firmly. We know he had two important ties in his life: Overwatch and Deadlock. And Overwatch stole him away from Deadlock for a VERY long time. Well over half the time Deadlock has been in operations, as far as I can tell. He picked Overwatch over Deadlock once before... and now, it seems he's picking Deadlock over Overwatch instead :')

The follow-up short, Roadtrip, doesn't do anything to change my mind. The trolling jerk, Jesse McCree, hovers past Ashe's payload, where she's just... complaining, as she hovers xD going by what I know of the game and that map, the payload may just be en route to the gang's hideout, so that, I'd say, could explain why she hasn't climbed off it or escaped in any way (which she reasonably would have, if Jesse was trying to, I don't know, send her and her people to the authorities).

My point here is, however, that Jesse is headed the same way the payload is. If his destination is the same one, he'll beat it there for sure. Maybe, yes, he'll go away and drive well past the hideout... but maybe that's exactly where he intended to go.

Maybe, in the end, Reunion is about a man who's finally coming home :D

In addition, goes without saying, Ashe's rant about how everyone falls to pieces over Jesse showing his "stupid mug" (uh-huh, stupid, ANGELIC mug, we know what you really think, girl xD) ends with her saying she should have "put a bullet in him the minute he showed up".

Which begs the question of why didn't she.

Then, of course, she says she hates McCree when he drives past her while listening to some really ridiculous honky-tonky-sounding music x'D I cannot even help but imagine him deliberately picking that radio station or whatever it was just to annoy Ashe when he drove beside her, and so that she can get extra pissed when she retrieves her beloved bike, turns on the music and it's just more honky-tonky stuff x'D but anyway, the thing is she shouts after him, tells him that's her bike and says she hates him. B.O.B. wordlessly speaks for us McAshe shippers by giving Ashe the most "sure, Jan" side-eye in the history of side-eyes, and Ashe notices and is outraged enough to knock B.O.B.'s little hat right off his head again.

Again... this is renowned outlaw Elizabeth Caledonia "Calamity" Ashe, sitting on a payload, groaning about the guy she once very much had feelings for (and that doesn't even begin to cut it, if you ask me x'D) and for whom she tooooootally doesn't anymore, that picture on her bike doesn't MEAN that, OBVIOUSLYYYY!!, and so, she sits up, complains and doesn't do much of anything to get out of her current situation, right? :>

So, summing up my current understanding of EVERYTHING, thanks to Deadlock Rebels and my obsessive rewatches of Reunion + Roadtrip:

Jesse deliberately sought out Ashe so she would indirectly, unknowingly, help him set Echo free from the government's clutches.

Jesse hoped for a peaceful encounter despite knowing he might not get one.

Jesse has no intentions of returning to Overwatch but was willing to perform one final act of service for them by releasing Echo so she'd go give Winston and co. a hand.

Jesse is NOT surprised to see that Ashe: 1. Didn't change bikes at some point in the twenty years since they built it. 2. Didn't swap the ignition key for a button, the way she says she thought to do it in the novel until he gives her the keychain. 3. KEPT THE POETIC AF KEYCHAIN, despite resenting Jesse for his betrayal. 4. KEEPS A PICTURE OF THEM IN THEIR YOUNGER YEARS PASTED ON HER BIKE'S DASHBOARD.

Jesse claims he has business to deal with: he doesn't clarify said business verbally, but every shot after he says those words focuses on elements related to Ashe... and then, along with the novel's context, it's elements related to their BOND. Everything in that shot, EVERYTHING, is connected to the two of them. Elements that weren't shown before or during their shootout, and that are only introduced in that final moment when McCree is off to deal with his "business".

Ashe doesn't climb off the payload or stops it (which, going by how McCree simply pressed a button, and Ashe isn't immobilized in the least, she easily could have done it too if she had wanted to). Suggesting that, wherever the payload is heading, it isn't anywhere dangerous for Ashe and her crew, ergo, she is 100% sure McCree isn't trying to screw her over by turning her in to the authorities or so (or, at worst, she's completely confident that, even if he is going to do this, she'll be able to get out of it easily).

Jesse drives in the same direction the payload is headed. Another hint that suggests he might intend to head to the Deadlock hideout and that, whatever business he has left to deal with, it involves them.

If his intent ISN'T to go to the hideout... Jesse is still guaranteeing that Ashe will come after him by stealing her bike, the 18th birthday gift he gave her, and the picture she keeps of them. That he takes that very bike practically serves as painting a target on his back for her to hunt down, and he KNOWS IT.

In short: Jesse will have plenty of business with the Deadlock Gang in his future, and going by how pleased he seems to be when riding the bike, he's perfectly happy to handle that business on his terms, whenever he wants to handle it.

Extra tidbit: there's nothing in Deadlock Rebels about Jesse's smoking habit, something he definitely did pick up at some point while in the gang because, hahaha, he IS smoking in the picture Ashe keeps of him :> Which makes me wonder why, of all pictures Ashe chooses to keep on her bike's dashboard, she picks one where he's smoking.

Then, it makes me wonder about the fact that Jesse deliberately starts smoking when he's standing right in front of her (and then he winks at her!). He tosses that cigar after things get kind of dangerous for him because B.O.B. does something, and then... then he goes back to smoking.

RIGHT WHEN HE'S CLIMBING ON THE BIKE.

Like... seriously...

*unintelligible fangirl screaming*

I could be looking too deeply into this. I know I could be. Maybe Blizzard just wants me to go CRAZY with little symbolism and hints charged with SO MUCH MEANING that maybe don't have as much meaning as I thought it did...

... But man, I've sailed into the depths of the shippiest oceans for many ships that have gotten actual breadcrumbs from canon. I've gone wild over ships that have zero opportunity to become a thing in canon continuity. I've written a nearly 3M words story based on a ship that is just UNEXPLORED AMAZING POTENTIAL and ngl, I love exploring it myself, so I don't even begrudge canon that much for not giving it to me anymore.

But the fact is, no ship in OW, as far as I've seen, has remotely as much content, hints and strong ties as McAshe does -- at least, no ships between heroes. We had a cinematic that was CHARGED with significance, with little gestures, with even the smallest facial expressions that carried soooo much more meaning than whole episodes or even seasons in TV shows. And then? We got a novel. A full novel depicting their origins and exploring their dynamics, how tight their friendship was, and how some strong feelings were certainly brewing there, even if neither one was ready to act on them yet (as far as we saw...).

Finally... I'll say I did start working on a Sokkla Western AU ages ago because the idea I had for one was pretty amusing. Then Reunion dropped, and I said "Why would I need to finish that story anymore when the Sokkla Western AU is RIGHT HERE?!"

And that's it, I will stop rambling now because this got insanely long x'D but thank you very very much for giving me this chance to go WILD on everything I can see, within all those canon hints, with these two *-*

[calypsoff]

Four. Part 5

Robyn is making some calls, I don’t know what for but she said she will be back once I asked her what we going to be doing she was quick to act on it, maybe she didn’t have anything planned, I mean I don’t mind that too. We can just speak here in this apartment, but she gone to make some calls. I feel relieved, more relieved that Robyn is not crying because I felt so awful that she cried, I didn’t want her to cry about it. I know she is feeling love and I also feel that aura with her, I have so much respect for her so for her to cry it did hurt me but she got to understand that I won’t be going back to Virginia and acting the same as I did with Seiko, I mean how can I, after being with Robyn I now really just want to be with her. Seiko has text me again for the second time so I better call her, if I don’t then she will keep on harassing me until I answer. Listening to phone ring out, she better answers before I put the phone down “I miss you!” She shouted down the phone, Seiko is being so loud “hey you good? You text me twice” I am trying to be distant with her “well you weren’t answering me” letting out an oh “my driver is coming so we are good to go” Robyn half shouted, my eyes widened “huh?” Seiko said “yeah?” Robyn and I just stared at each other “you are watching Rihanna interviews or something?” I just paused not knowing what to say, do I tell her yes or act dumb “yes” I agreed, Robyn side eyed me “well don’t be getting ideas now, why are you even watching her interviews? Don’t tell me those little feelings are coming back? Awww baby, she bigger then you now” who the hell is this bird teasing “she is bigger than me now I know, it just came on the TV. That’s it” Robyn sat next to me this time, I think she is trying to be nosey “mhmm don’t be getting any ideas now” moving my phone away from my ear and putting it on speakerphone, Robyn squinted her eyes at me which made me laugh. She lazily placed her arm on my shoulder “sorry what did you say?” Trying to not laugh “I said don’t get ideas now that you met her, that little young love you had has got to be gone now. I still side eye why you took ages” Seiko is dumb she will say something dumb “how you know she wasn’t putting it down on me?” I said laughing, I can hear Seiko bird friends in the background “that wouldn’t shock me, she gets around but no you didn’t” Robyn gasped “that is rude you said you loved her? Huh?” She dislikes her now “I do, I like her whore vibe” holding in a laugh, Robyn is shook right now “ok anyways, you’re rude” Robyn wrapped her arms around my neck “I am going to steal her man and whore myself on his dick” she licked my ear, my mouth fell open turning my head slowly staring at her, Robyn puckered her lips up smirking “say that to her” licking my lips shaking my head “Chris!?” Seiko half shouted “yeah, I need to go” Robyn is crazy, like she is turning me on.

Robyn and I just laughed out as I disconnected the call, she rested her head on my shoulder “you are bad” shaking my head laughing “she got me angry, who is she calling a whore. Her mother is a whore, I’m not even like that, I am seriously pissed off that she said that. Why do people think I am that? I’m really not” Robyn lifted her head up from my shoulder “because they don’t know you like that, I know you. I know that you ain’t a whore, man your pussy be saying otherwise. I know you would be truthful with me, I got you, you got me” Robyn kissed my cheek “I can’t believe you made me cry actually” oh she remembers “it’s a lot Robyn, but let’s now look to the future. Let’s think of now yeah?” She nodded her head in agreement “where are we going twin?” She ain’t say “mhmm well. Remember that time we said we would get matching tattoos? We only live once” she winked “yeah, I remember that. Dude coming here? I feel like we are reliving where we left off” I can’t believe she remembered that I am actually shocked “nah we are going there, he is keeping the store open for us so we can you know, do the thing. I told you Chris I ain’t holding back” she pressed a hard kiss to my cheek and got up from the couch, Robyn is not holding back. She means those words and I accept it, I think she is the one to bring that out of me. I just couldn’t help myself, watching Robyn stretch out I reached over and pinched her butt “aye” she looked behind her and at me “I am going to get changed, do I look ok without makeup? I really can’t be bothered” staring at her face nodding “I think you are good, promise” she walked off, what I mean is she skipped off. She is so happy, and I love that about her, she is good vibes.

Zipping my coat up “am I hidden enough?” Robyn turned to me with her shades on and a snapback, well my snapback actually “you look good, the forehead hidden so nobody will know it’s you” I know she is mugging me under those shades “do you have Instagram? I know I can’t follow you but can I see?” pulling my coat down “uh yeah, you can see. It’s uhm, fuckyopictures, one word” I pointed out “will duh, actually let’s go. We will be late to bang bang, he won’t be happy” gesturing Robyn to go ahead of me, I will let her take the lead. I don’t know this bang bang dude. I think I will let Robyn have that tattoo and I will just watch, I don’t think I got space, maybe I do but still. I ain’t think about having another yet. Come to think of it maybe we could have stayed here and just fucked, wrapping my arms around Robyn and pulling her back into me “uh, you said let’s go now” she yanked my arm back, she got a point. Stuffing my hands in my coat pockets as we made our way to the elevator “it’s raining out there, I think I need” I dragged out “don’t say it! I promise you I will scream” I mean it’s fitting to the situation “you had my heart….” I stepped back before she hit my arm “get yo ass in the elevator ma’am” following into the elevator “you think I look better on your snapback? I think I do” Robyn is checking herself out in the mirror, tilting my head to the side “mhmmm you look good” wrapping my arms around Robyn, humping her “oh my god, seriously?” she laughed “stop that, I need to press the button” still humping as she tried to turn around “no!” she yelped out, moving back from her “shit!, it’s going up now. Oh my god, this is your fault” let me stand in this corner like a good boy “why you tripping?” she shook her head walking over to me “I am going to miss you like crazy when you decide to go” lazily she wrapped her arms around my torso, pouting her lips as she rested her head on me “already thinking about me going, relax” Robyn turned her head away, the door opened and a couple of girls walked onto the elevator. They looked at us and then looked at me, she straight checked me out, but I won’t mention that to Robyn.

Turning in the seat to face Robyn “Seiko has the log in for that page, I don’t even go on it because she may run a report on where I logged in from. She practically is logged into that; she really just runs my social media in a weird way” I shrugged “really? I can tell that flat faced rat is, she isn’t even that cute. She looks fake, she sounds fake. What did you see in her, why is she like that with you? What did you do?” I lightly laughed “well, I cheated on her during the relationship. I had a lot of girls sending me nudes. So she doesn’t trust me, shock. Uh yeah, that is it. She chased me in a way, but I just wanted to settle, I came out of being locked up. I wanted peace” Robyn is so nosey “oh my god, is this your mug shot?” she turned her phone to me, nodding my head “you look sexy, I mean that face. Look how innocent you are, were you crying? You were, I can tell by your eyes” she knows me well “yeah, my ma was angry, and I was desperate to just get out. It was hard because it was a mistake, I fucked up my life you know” shaking my head “I am saving this picture but what exactly happened, so you were helping that same bum ass cousin I told you not to hang with” Robyn questioned “yes, it was quick money and I was enjoying the thrill. I wanted to make quick money and also my cousin said we family, we run as one. My parents ain’t have the money for college for me, so I just wanted to make some money for that. It went wrong and I got locked up, I should have been there longer, they was looking at putting me away for fifty years” Robyn’ face dropped “what the fuck what did you have on you? How!?” she spat.

“The car had a trunk full of cocaine, I was delivering the car like I do, I have been doing it for a while. So I was driving at the spot, I realised there is police all over the spot, niggas being arrested, I looked and drove by, but I made eye contact with an officer and I guess they saw my shocked face, there was a cop chase. And they found a hell of a lot of drugs that they were going to sentence me that unless I snitched, they promised they would put me in a different jail, I wanted less sentence and I know the word on the street is to not snitch but I didn’t want that life, so I did. But the fucking police lied to me, they all lied to me. But I got five years, I got jumped the first night I entered the jail, their people got to me but I know they set me up, the guards set me up. I was in so much pain, I wanted to die. My face was gone, they had a made up shank, knife yeah. That is why I got the scar on my shoulder. They kept kicking me, like six of them. I passed out, woke up in the prison hospital. I couldn’t talk, they then moved me. I healed, came out. Amazon gave me a job, Barry’ uncle helped me big time. I just want a quiet life, it changed me being there. It broke me, and I did remember you, and how that became a mess because you went but then I was happy for you, I would hear uhm” I clicked my fingers “don’t stop the music, when they let us have radio time. For good behaviour, for like an hour and I would be grinning so hard, like that is my twin. She doing big things, my little coconut head Barbadian cherry pop, I am and was super proud of you. But I just, I fucked up Robyn and I feel like that took it out of me that I became this closed off guy. The last year in jail was ok, it got better I suppose. I started getting tattoos, but I just got skinnier. I came out and my parents paid for the apartment I am in now, blessed about it. I paid them off, I put in hours at Amazon. That is me Robyn” Robyn is in shock, she even had to put her phone down.

I didn’t expect Robyn to cry “aye, stop it. Please” placing my hand over hers “I feel bad, like if I didn’t leave you and I remained you would be not in that. I just feel emotional about this Chris, how can I not? You have always been on my mind, thinking what is he doing? I was waiting on the moment where I saw Chris Brown the basketball player” Robyn wiped her tears “I just feel sad because I can imagine how much that crushed you, oh my god. You have the most beautiful personality, and it drew me to you. When I met you again, I hugged you and it was like I was hugging you but you wasn’t there, and every hour I am with you I am seeing you be you, I had no idea and maybe if I investigated but Barry acted like nothing, I went to the school wanting to see you. I came for you; I didn’t care for the personal tour. I went back into the classroom we first met; it hurt me Chris. This has really hurt me to know you went through that, oh god. My heart, I could have lost you and I wouldn’t have known. This scares me, I am so happy you’re here and you’re ok” Robyn rubbed my cheek “I am good, I just can’t fuck up again” her fingers gently rubbing the side of my cheek “but all is well, I don’t want to keep reliving the past. But you deserve to know that, this could make you look bad. I don’t want that for you” Robyn placed her hand over my mouth “I told you, I am not going to lose you. You said we will work at it, we will” nodding my head, Robyn is making me feel so much like she is making me feel whole again.

[doomstypewriter]

Helpless Au - A draft fragment

This is my Prinxiety ghost/haunted mansion AU. 

More about the AU

If anyone wants to be tagged on posts regarding the AU, please, just comment, I’ll be thrilled. 

Helpless Au - A draft fragment: In which Logan saves Virgil’s life from a situation worse than social interaction and, thus, they become best friends. 

This is written quickly, because it’s a draft, not to say that it’s poorly written (although that would be for each one to judge), just that some transitions are fast as a means to tell efficiently what’s going on. 

CW: Persecution, swearing, anxiety on Virgil’s part (but that is to be expected). Nothing more I can think of (don’t hesitate to tell me if you find anything else). 

Word count: 2069 (heh, you know what that means). 

Virgil goes down the pathway that takes him out of the grounds of Patton’s house. Even though the sun is still setting, there’s a certain degree of darkness because the clouds have turned black. A pouring is about to start, Virgil rushes so he doesn’t get caught in it on his way back to the mansion. 

He reaches the dirt path that’s beside the road, he ought to be in the mansion in a matter of five minutes, provided that he walks at a decent pace. Patton’s house is relatively near the mansion, but, for starters, Patton’s garden and the mansion’s are equally enormous, and, secondly, the access that connects them by road, the only way to come back without jumping a fence (which wouldn’t have been an ideal first impression for Patton’s grandma, but, now that Virgil knows her, perhaps the strange woman would have found it hilarious), is quite twisted. 

Virgil sees a person walking in the distance. He doesn’t really care for it, he simply internally prays that they won’t speak to him. Social interaction would be worse than anything. ANYTHING. 

Predictably, it begins to rain and Virgil quickly gets his folding umbrella out of his backpack. Quite a thoughtful present from his dad, not to mention the cool design with a giant white skull on a black background. He keeps on walking whilst thinking ‘fuck, my converse are turning into soup. Heh, my converse are at soup. But, for real, this is horrible’. 

After a while he realises that the person from before is keeping the same distance and Virgil proceeds to methodically overthink it: ‘they don’t have an umbrella, how is it that they aren’t walking faster? They’re getting drenched!’. He asks himself too where are they even going, taking into account that the only thing ahead is the mansion. In the end, Virgil chooses to walk faster. So does whoever. This is when Virgil lets go off his umbrella and RUNS. 

Our favourite emo searches for his phone, but lo and behold, it’s not anywhere to be found. The memory hits him like a brick ‘OH SHIT I MUST HAVE FORGOT IT AT PATTON’S. COOL. I’M GOING TO DIE’. The stalker keeps on running and jumps over the umbrella, sprinting towards him.

Suddenly, a bike races by and skids into a stop with a deafening sound of the brakes. Logan is on that bike. 

He looks at Virgil with a deadly serious expression and tells him to hop on. Virgil runs for the bike and gets on holding onto Logan. 

Logan starts pedaling like a bat out of hell. THANK EVERYTHING THAT LOGAN’S LEGS ARE LONG. 

“Sorry for not bringing a spare helmet, I wasn’t prepared for this happening”.

“Honestly, I don’t fucking care. You just saved my life”. 

Would you look at that, there was something worse than social interaction after all. The universe must love him dearly to correct him in such a kind way. 

“I wouldn’t exactly say so, but that man running after you is certainly distressing”. 

“Light way to put it”. 

“You’re right. It was scary. We ought to call the police as soon as possible”. 

“You bet. What the fuck was that?” 

“I don’t know. Oh, on the subject of calling, you left your phone at Patton’s”.

“Yeah, I found out while I was being chased. Honestly, thank god for my forgetful ass”. 

Logan laughs loudly. 

“Indeed”. 

“I won’t tell Patton you laughed”. 

“Thank you”. 

“No, thank YOU, man”. 

They arrive at the mansion completely soaked. He asks Logan for his phone and calls Janus to open the door. 

After a while, the entrance door swings open. 

Janus starts by saying: “Sorry if you rang the doorbell, I was in my room and I didn’t…” that’s when he takes a proper look at his brother and Logan and is worried sick. The only thing he can ask, obviously, is: “WHAT HAPPENED?!”

Virgil explains, not gladly, none of the events could quite get him in the mood, the world shall be left wondering why. 

Janus tells him to take Logan to one of the bathrooms and let him borrow some clothes so he can get the shower he so desperately seems to be needing and also instructs him to do the same while he calls the police and their father. 

The sound of keys then is heard. Janus mentally tells himself ‘one less call, then’. 

The father enters frantically asking for Virgil, two umbrellas in his hand. 

He sees him wet from head to toe in the hall with his friend and runs to hug his son. 

“I saw your umbrella laying on the road on my way here. Thank god you’re fine. What happened?” he asks while looking at his sons and Logan. 

Janus gestures him while on the phone and mouths an ‘I’m on it’. 

“Okay, tell me after getting a shower, both of you. Lend him some clothes, you can take some of mine if they don’t fit. Oh, hello, by the way, I’m Virgil’s dad” he says as he offers his hand.  

Logan gladly takes it. Yes, gladly, because social acceptance and interaction are quite refreshing from his usual interpersonal awkwardness. 

“Greetings as well, I’m Logan, and I’m Virgil’s…” he thinks about how to phrase it properly but Virgil simply cuts him. 

“He’s my friend, dad”. 

“Oh, gosh, you made a new friend! That’s great son! Well, we can talk later, go get that shower”. 

“Okay. Follow  me Logan”. 

They both climb the main stairs and turn to the block of rooms to the left. 

Logan talks about the architecture all the way. They go up the spiral staircase. He mentions that the painting of the house that hanged in front of the stairs looks like an impressionist depiction of a British manor of the sixteenth century. Virgil blinks like on a vine and asks him how does he know that. 

“I have an appreciation for architecture”. 

“Just as you do for poetry”. 

“Indeed”.

They reach the bathroom of the second floor. 

Virgil tells him that he’ll go to his room to fetch some clothing and might leave it on a chair outside or in the bedroom nextdoor. 

“I’ll see you at the living-room”. 

“How can I find it?” 

“Go downstairs back to the hall and then to the left, it’s the room with the big ass stage”.

“That seems a little excessive”.

“Yeah, the dude who made the house was extra af”. 

The police arrives and takes their statement. A middle aged woman and her young male partner question them. The partner looks kind of goofy but pays full attention, the lady, on the other side, looks like she is done with life after having seen too much shit, but she is really nice. 

“Look, guys, I’m going to be honest with ya. It’s hard to tell if we may find whoever did that, because you haven’t seen their face. Without that, there isn’t that much we can do to find them. Pressing charges is hardly possible because they did not assault you nor pulled out a gun. What they did to you was bad, and I’d love to be able to help more, but I cannot tell you how this is going to turn out, it’s a tricky situation”. 

“Excuse me, ma'am, but, hadn’t I arrived when I did, anything could have happened to my friend. It is most distressing to have someone chase you down and I can’t make out what their intentions would be to do such a thing if the individual didn’t plan something nasty”. 

“We know it’s unfair, well make sure to catch them!” the goofy-looking guy answers this time.  In his righteous enthusiasm he coughs a few times. 

“Asthma too?”. 

The guy looks at him awkwardly and nods. 

“Can I speak to you alone, son?” the lady asks Virgil. 

“Sure”. 

They leave the room to the corridor of high ceilings that connects it to the library and the main dining room. The voice of his father and Ethan are coming from the library, discussing their shared worries. The talking ends as soon as they hear them. 

“Why do you think that person was chasing you?” 

“How could I know? Am I in trouble for something?” 

“Uuuugh” she pinches the bridge of her nose “shit, I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. Look, if anything remotely weird has happened, that could link to that person chasing you I need to know, I want you guys to be safe. It’s never a good sign to be chased by someone on a lonely road. Tell me, it’s my understanding that you and your family have been here for a month, has anything out of the ordinary occurred? Something that could alarm you?”

“I’m the kind of person that is alarmed by mostly anything so you’ll have to be more specific”.

“I’m also that kind of person, Virgil, so I hope you understand what I tell you when I say that there’s the ordinary kind of alarming; like the fear forgetting about closing your front door, and finding that door open after you made sure to check it was closed”. 

Virgil breathes in with tension. He feels watched. Not precisely by his family, which is odd. Who else would be watching? Damn, this hypervigilance thing was driving him nuts. Although, this once it made total sense, the situation had been a perfect brew for anxiety. 

“Would you mind following me elsewhere?” 

“Sure”. 

On their way upstairs, to the tower room, Virgil adds: 

“Okay, I know it seems kinda weird to make you climb all of these stairs and unnecessarily mysterious, but my room is the ‘loneliest place in the castle’ and I don’t want my family to get worried if they overhear this”.

“It’s fine, son, that’s perfectly understandable”. 

They enter the room and the lady whistles in awe. 

“Wow, what a room you got here, I’d wish I’ve had this when I was your age”. 

“Well, you must be the only one”. 

“Why is that?”. 

“Everybody keeps on ranting about how this place is freaky”. 

“Is it?”. 

“No. This and the library are the nicest places in the house. I like being able to see so much”. 

Virgil guides her to one of the windows. 

“Well, with the panoramic view, it’s almost like a watch tower”. “There” Virgil points at the part of Patton’s garden that’s visible. “A few nights ago I spotted a guy talking at a phone, I think he saw me watching him, because when he looked at the tower he immediately left”. 

Later, when the police has left, Logan tells him that he is trans. Why? Well, he has to stay the night because the pouring is more like a violent storm. Also, Patton might kill him if he doesn’t take off his binder, which he put back on in spite of being soaked. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got your back dude. Here, have this, it’s one of my baggiest”. 

On Virgil’s hand is a giant black zip-up hoodie. 

“It’s not much of my style, and not the most elegant solution, but it will suffice. Although, it is very comfortable and the fabric texture is kind on the skin. Thank you very much. I shall take off my binder and put it on”. 

“Toilet’s over there. Place the binder on the radiator so it dries”. 

Virgil tends to his devices. Logan comes back with the hoodie on, comfy as ever. 

“Are we having a sleepover?” 

“I don’t know. Do you want us to have one?”

“I’m unsure as to if it’s appropriate given the circumstances that brought me here, as well as the fact that I have no expertise on the subject”. 

“Neither do I, but it could be cool. We can have a spooky sleepover, throw some candles here and there and read Edgar Allan Poe or watch some horror films”. “I’m not convinced by the horror films, but, perhaps some Hitchcock would be a suitable replacement suggestion and we may add Bukowski to the least of authors to read”. 

“Sounds fine by me. Maybe we could get Patton on Skype”. 

“I’d enjoy that. On a different note, it’s getting late, we should have dinner”. 

“Uh, sorry, right, you probably didn’t have time at Patton’s”. 

“Not to worry, though, I’m glad I didn’t. Otherwise I wouldn’t have caught you in time”. 

“Ain’t that the truth”.

[staycatcher]

Anguish 002- Anarchy

“Out of genuine free will, I, Lee Minho, exercise the divine right to reject my sacredly designed soulmate.”

Member: Lee Minho / Lee Know x Femme Reader (she/her)

Au: FratBoi! Minho + Rejected Soulmate AU

Genre: Angst, with added fluffy flashbacks past life to make it enjoyable lol

Rated T for a #@&% ton of swearing, violent bodily reactions/extreme pain, hospitals, drunk people, altercations, and just general intensity 👀💀

Note: It skips around a lot, a border is before and after the past life flashbacks/dreams and after those, it’ll say when/where it’s set!! Hmu if it’s still confusing~

Word Count: 4.3k

Anguish series 2/?-  001, ~002~ 

Edited: 210116 (Original: 190918 )

‼Edit: rewritten to exclude Kim Woojin, so the characters in the plot are now all scrambled and changed from the original!! If you’ve read this before- first of all thank you so much🥺💓💞- secondly you might want to reread because of the supporting character changes going forward!!😅🥰💝‼

Your eyelids flash open in the backseat of an unfamiliar sedan, the car jostling your seatbelt-less form about as it’s swerving fast down the side streets in the dead of night. Being brought back to consciousness unfortunately also brought agony that unconsciousness saved you from. Your current state knocks the breath right out of you, forcing out pathetic whimpers for breaths of needed oxygen, alerting the people in the front. 

“Y/n?” Through the agony just of just being conscious, you hazily hear Jamie’s highly concerned voice. This is the first time in your decade-long friendship that you’ve heard her voice sound like this. Though, you only hear your surroundings very blearily and distant as if you were some sort of different time and space. Her voice- it was full of fear!

 You just croaked out an incoherent sound as an acknowledgment as best you could between gasps for air. That’s all you could conjure, with your heart and brain pulsing magma through your entire body. Your insides must be neon at this point from the excessive heat and energy surging through you. You felt as if you were burning up, burning [alive]. Not even the overflowing tears, sweat, pathetic snot, and slobber could cool you from the intensity of the fever.

“Is she awake?!” 

“I think so? She’s making weird noises and she’s moving!”

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh-” The rattling car slowed down a bit.

“KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE FUCKING ROAD, SEUNGMIN!” 

“I’M SORRY! JESUS!” The car sped right back up, maybe even faster than before, ramming into a harsh turn which came with an entourage of groans from both the vehicle and its passengers. 

“Fucking hell!” 

“I said I’m -fucking- sorry!”

“Just keep driving, for Christ’s sake! And I’ll keep giving you directions!-”

“Okay, okaayy!!~ God!”

You’re not quite sure how much time passed from the time when you awoke in this godforsaken sedan and when it reached a full stop. It could have been five minutes, fifteen, or an hour. The torture of rejection had you blacking out frequently on the turbulent ride to this unknown location. Your main focus is only on the sole fact that your soul was getting ripped apart each second, a chaotic ride was the least of your worries. The only stream of consciousness you remember is that you threw up in the backseat once or twice, and all-consuming, volcanic pain and fever. You also had no idea where in the hell they were taking you, and you weren’t in a state to care. Hell, you didn’t even know what was up and what was down, what year it was, you had much more prominent, violent, bodily reactions that took up all of your bleary concentration. 

Once the car did reach a full, screeching stop you heard the grating metal of the rush of seatbelts being undone, the jerk of the car’s ignition switch off with a gritty rattle of keys, doors being ripped open, slammed shut, only for the doors near you being ripped open in succession. It made your ears bleed, or maybe they were already bleeding. Wait, are my ears bleeding? 

“Holy shit!!”

“How in the hell did she puke that much?! My fucking car!” 

“Oh my god, Seungmin, shut the fuck up! We’re not worried about that right now! Help me carry her in!” 

“Okay, okay, okay! Jesus!” 

“Here, I’ll come on your side.” Another door slam. Soon after, you were startled to feel a pair of comparatively cold hands latch at each of your arms and gently ripping them out from under you, pitchy sounds of disapproval screeched out of you before they began dragging your wrecked body towards them. You weren’t conscious enough to feel the amount of humiliation you normally would at being fussed over like this, or how you may appear or what sort of public decency you might have. You could only spit out loud incomprehensible sounds of discontent. So out of it, you had no choice but to submit to whatever they were doing and allow yourself to be helped, even if you currently feel like your suffering is being heightened significantly. Your eyes were still swirling around inside your head in dizziness, brain throbbing, being upright only aggravated your body more with the forced movements and new changes in circulation. 

“And up!~” That was met with groans from all of you.

“Fucking hell there’s more of her than I remember!!” 

“Shut the hell- Literally no one has ever asked you anything, Seungmin.”

“It’s not like that! I’m saying she’s tall, Jamie! Why is she so long-”

”For the love of fucking theater, please put a sock in it. I thought you were supposed to be the quiet one!” You can barely hear them by now, their voices blurred away further and further until you once again float away and away, right back into the mercy of sweet, sweet unconsciousness. 

Soft snowflakes fall upon your warm cheeks- happy, smiling cheeks. It was only because of said precious snowflakes melting against your warm skin that you were made aware that your cheeks must be as red as the scarf your grandmother knitted for you. Despite all this snow, all you could see was what was vaguely forty or so yards away from you: A single figure among the rest, a handsome young man with whom you felt an immediate pull. 

Your train was about to leave and the rambunctious morning rush is now in full swing. The train you were supposed to catch to leave to a new city with a future waiting for you would take off soon, you kept trying to remind yourself. You couldn’t risk losing your train for a random stranger! But, despite all of your best efforts to carry on, you felt no urge to go and chase a suddenly meaningless mode of transportation. You felt full all of a sudden, complete, all because of some blurry stranger in front of you, whose silhouette you could barely even see amongst the hoards of people bustling past you in every direction.  

My god, does this mean- Could it be?! This feeling, this person, is that- 

“Is that ‘You’?” You heard your voice call out, loud enough to yell over the hustle and bustle, your eyes twinkling wide in wonder. 

Nothing else in this world could matter even half as much as this person in front of you. This person you hardly got glimpses of in-between rushing people. Not even the train that would take you to a safe, guaranteed future, seemed to weigh as much to you as this stranger. Just glimpses of this man, made things feel right, in a way you couldn’t begin to explain. A feeling deep, deep inside you told you that everything in your life has led to this. That you came to this train station to see him, and not to leave the city to another. If it was socially acceptable to slap yourself in the face for what you are currently thinking, what you are currently doing- you’d do it. You were going to miss this train, your ticket was not refundable, you had an opening to pursue-

“I’d assume so!” He tried to get out loudly all the while shoving through, inching closer. Without a doubt, he was just as affected as you. Seemingly, entirely more thrilled like he had no other plans than to meet you, despite the blatant fact he must have some. He’s at the train station at daybreak for god’s sake! 

“Where are my manners? I’m sorry!! My mother would have a fit- raising me better than this!” His tone was infinitely more friendly and silly than you would have predicted, especially in comparison with the words he said. Why is he smiling so wide while apologizing? For some reason you loved it! This must be one of his many quirks.

“My name is Minho Lee.” He came even closer as he was saying this with cool, confident footsteps inching your way despite the busy, disruptive rushed bodies, all with their own lives, their own hurried paths. All that was important to you suddenly was this beacon of a person in front of you, whose DNA was handwoven by the celestial, specifically for you, a matched set. 

“I’m Y/n, Y/n L/n- It-it’s a pleasure!” You offered your hand for him to shake. You didn’t even know what to say, you just relied on your natural politeness and ingrained manners to get those few words out. 

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss L/n.” And then he smiled, his angelic feline smile sealing the deal. Just with his sparkly smile and an electric handshake, all your doubts fade away. 

Park Jinyoung Memorial Hospital

Room 3025

“-I don’t want him here!! I’m not letting him come in here!“ You come to, the sound of a vaguely familiar voice waking you up. None of your other senses seem to be working well besides your hearing, and even that was dubious, barely catching any of the words that were being said, almost as if you were underwater. 

“Jamie! It’s been ten hours! He’s her soulma-“ Ten hours- since what?

“I don’t give a flying rat’s ass, Chris!! He’s the reason she’s like this! He could hurt her even more!!“ Jamie and Chris? Jamie and Chris- where have you heard those names again?

“Jamie, shut up!! Her monitors will go off, they said she might still be able to hear- you’ll stress her out!!” Monitors?! Monitors, what places have monitors? Are they talking about you? You think so- You tried to open your eyes to investigate, but they refused to budge.

“‘Think this is bad, Seungmin?! Think what’ll happen if Minho walks through the door-“ Huh?! Minho!! That name sounds familiar- The blaring sound of a heart rate monitor beeping interrupts your thoughts before you can continue much further.

“Don’t say his name! She’s reacting negativ-“ They have to be talking about you! The heart rate has to be yours right- you reacted and then the heart rate spiked- then the sound happened. WAIT, YOU’RE IN A HOSPITAL! You’re in a hospital and hooked up to things! Your monitors give off an alert, though that doesn’t shut up these people you’re hearing. 

“Oh?! So you don’t want me to say his name but you want me to allow his unstable ass to come on in and get some visiting hours on the books?! How does that even make sense, Chris!?” Oh wow. Okay, this is- a lot. 

“Jamie, be realistic-”

“No you guys be realistic! Y/n’s parents are flying out here and they’re allowing me to speak on Y/n’s behalf until they land. And I’m not allowing that fucker to come anywhere near this room until she’s healed a little-” Seriously, what in the hell is going on right now? So much is happening all at once, you just woke up- What happened?! You want to go back to your dreams, not a whirlwind of whatever the fuck this is.

“Who says she’ll heal? Her soul is dying-” Hold up! Pause. What now- ‘dying’?! DYING? WHAT’S WRONG WITH MY SOUL? 

 “SHE’S D-“ The voice tried to continue, only to be cut off, but it’s to be expected at this point though. All you can do is stand and watch… well in your case, lay down and listen... to try and help you make sense of this.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“It’s true! Y/n’s-”

“I said don’t… the two of you can leave now.” Oh god- this is just getting uglier and unpleasant by every shouted word. What on earth did you wake up to, well... you’re not completely awake to be fair. You can’t seem to feel or move. It's like you’re just floating around, distantly experiencing your sense of sound.

“Jamie!”

“Leave.”

“Jamie, I’m her friend too you can’t just-” They’re my friends!! That’s how I know these people! Finally some answers!

The sound of a door being burst open met with quick footsteps. “Is everything alright in here? What’s going on? Do I need to get a Doctor? Security?” Hearing the distress of this person made your heart race faster, yet again, nerves heightening by this highly concerned person storming in. 

Wait- what were you even in here for?

“No-”

“They were just about to leave, ma’am-“

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask all three of you to leave. We have to calm her down and then run some tests. It seems that Y/n's vitals became unstable again. We’ll contact you, Jamie, and her parents when we’re done, and you can come back.” 

You were out in the country, on your way to fetch some water from the well for you and your oversized family. Being a frequently forgotten middle child, you often get away with hiding away in these fields, perhaps with a book or some sewing project you worked at, or perhaps just taking in the sun’s rays, cloud gazing, or napping like a kitten in the pleasant sunlight. Alas, today wasn’t so kind to you and as your younger brother who was usually charged with this task, fell sick in bed, thus the task was passed along to you. 

The well wasn’t too far, a nice walk for some. But all this time could be spent doing something more fun, something filled with more imagination than someone your age should have. Something curious or something that instilled peace in your heart. Something that didn’t involve hauling water in buckets back to the cottage without it sloshing it all over the place, spilling it, and splashing onto your layers in your rush to get back. 

Out of breath and traveling back with a heavy wooden bucket filled to the rim with water in each hand, your hand-me-down clad self began walking back along the dirt road. When you finally decide to look ahead and not at the buckets, you spy two people on horses trotting your way. You shake your head a few times making sure that what you were seeing was actually happening and not one of your daydreams.

Today was not a day full of your mind's little tricks, this was happening. It was made real as each second drew nearer. The two seemed to slow down their trotting as if to approach you. As they grew closer, the clearer they became, making it all the more apparent that they were in some sort of uniform, clearly of higher status within the military. Your eyes grew to the size of the chipped plate you ate upon this morning. It wasn’t often you’d see or interact with anyone with a status of any kind, much less outside of the village, right outside your family’s humble cottage doors. 

Eventually, the two came to a complete stop in front of you. The first man on your right seems to have a stern look despite his pretty lips, he could only be described as beautiful. His face was angular yet soft but his aura made it feel sharp, his presence alone felt important. He cleared his throat, right when your eyes were about to wander to his companion, who’s eyes you could feel began to take you in. You gasped in realization, quickly set down your buckets, and deeply bowed, paying your overdue respects. You nearly forgot to, too startled by their presence, to say the least. 

“I beg your pardon, sirs! It’s not often I see military in the area, it certainly is a shock! Please forgive my manners!” You wobbly got out, still bowing at a ninety-degree angle and looking down low at your worn shoes, too embarrassed to look up now. They could beat you for your disrespect if they wanted to. Your mother would have killed you herself if she found out. 

“Let it rest, Sergeant.”  You heard a downright musical voice chide the soldier you made eye contact with earlier before continuing. “The poor girl is spooked, to say the least! Not much unlike that new recruit- what’s his name- Jeongin! Not unlike Jeongin’s horse!” You couldn’t hold in the snort at his execution of what you’re assuming is supposed to be a good-natured joke at your expense to ease tensions. He seemed to be just as flustered as you, his delivery mocked himself more than he could’ve attempted to mock you!

 When you finally decide to look up, you instantly make eye contact with him. Unfortunately, you become even more ‘spooked’ than before! This man was astonishing, completely, and utterly astonishing. He looked as if he were carved out of stone, but his voice was so sweet and mischievous. He was the sort of contradiction you’ve read about in books, you still couldn’t fully comprehend if this is just another one of your daydreams or your reality. His radiant features almost make you fall over before regaining balance, but not without emitting humiliating noises that had the two of them snickering.

 And you thought that other guy was pretty! Just one moment of eye contact with this one before immediately feeling tingles from your head to your toes and your face became even hotter now; hotter than the sun. 

“My soulmate?” He gasped in amazement, amazement at you. His eyes lit up like he was handed the keys to a castle for a weekend. He’s full of newfound energy and leaned a bit too much on the flirtatious side for your face to handle. Your face could only get so red. He was testing your body pigment’s limits and he didn’t say more than a few sentences. 

“Soulmate?” You whispered, fully astonished now. Your brain is surely gonna fry any second now. Your unrelenting plate-sized eyes zooming across the entirety of his being, trying to take it all in at once with the wonder of an astronomer looking at the night sky for the first time.

“You know what this means, Sergeant Hwang?” 

“Lieutenant , we have t-”

“It means I have some parents to meet!” 

“What are you- you haven’t even asked for my name!” Your voice ripped itself out of you without your permission, your sentence could only be described as informal.

“Right, you’re quite right, even if you were a bit informal, I’ll have to forgive you for that now that I have been equally as such.” Then all of a sudden he began to dismount the horse, making your eyebrows fly to your hairline. He quickly dismounted the horse with the grace of a dancer, and immediately began to approach you. While all this was happening, ‘Sergeant Hwang’ had no problem gawking at you and his superior, but you could hardly care. Most of your energy focused on your sense of sight now that he was coming out of the now blinding setting sun and off his high horse, literally. And what a sight to behold he truly was. His gorgeous, generously lashed eyes looking right into yours, now only a respectable foot away from you.

“What’s your name then, my love?” He asked, reaching for your hand, instantly giving you both a zap which makes you both giggle in awe. Just the touch of him had you toasting in your high collared cotton. The sizzling increased but the realization set in, your hands were the two final pieces to the puzzle. Nothing in your sheltered, naive world made so much sense or felt so right like this.

“It’s- it’s Y/n.~” You breathed, looking up from your connected hands into his sharp facial features that became soft with endearment, crystal eyes gleaming at you in response.

Sigma Kappa Zeta Fraternity House

Twelve hours ago

“WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING MINHO?!” Changbin started chasing after Lee Minho who already made it the majority of the way up the narrow, carpeted stairs. Changbin was outraged that he’d pull this shit, especially at a time like this.

 For some reason, in his mind, he thought that when Minho found his soulmate, his reckless behavior would cease. Alas, he witnessed with his own two eyes, Minho did just do the unthinkable and rejected the very person that was made for him. Shock and anger didn’t even begin to describe how Changbin felt. He had to get to the bottom of this, this just didn’t make any sense. This behavior just wasn’t acceptable anymore. Minho has gone too far. He could no longer tolerate his friend’s bullshit. Someone had to collect him and knock some sense into him!

If Changbin had to be the one to knock some sense to Minho he would. When he saw the way Y/n and Minho looked at each other, he was ecstatic that it was you he was destined for. He’d never admit to it unless probed, but he may or may not had eyes for you a semester or two ago.

Noting your understated beauty and the unabashed quirks like how you only sat in odd positions, the excessive amount of pens and highlighters you liked to use, and your unrivaled cuteness despite your grunge exterior. He knew you could be just the right person butter Minho up, but he didn’t even let you say a sentence to him before he severed the celestial bond before booking it the hell out of there without a second thought.

What Changbin wouldn’t give to find his own soulmate, his one and only, and to see how quickly Minho just threw his away- No, Changbin couldn’t just stand there and watch! Minho wasn’t being rational, he probably wasn’t even thinking at all! He was being completely and utterly selfish, a fucking coward.

Changbin was tailing after Minho now, catching up closer and closer with each stride through the masses of drunk or high college kids. Minho was beginning to run with a limp, palming at his chest, as he was shoving his way through crowds of endless people partying their sorrows away. The younger one started to notice the closer he got, the more clearer it was to see that his friend looked off. Like he was injured, or maybe seriously sick. As if he was not only running from you but also running away from the symptoms and the consequences of his actions. 

Changbin barely made it in time to catch Minho when he inevitably doubled over in pain, shouts of which were being swallowed down, only bits and pieces coming out as chokes and grunts, and he refused to even look at Changbin. Completely and utterly ashamed, and full of frustration as he was trying to get Changbin off of him. But changbin was easily stronger than him in this state. The swarms of people on the main level just aloofly made a bit of a way for the two boys, with a roll of the eyes, just assuming it was another drunkard wilding out with a friend coming after him.

“What the fuck has gotten into you, Minho?!” Changbin interrogated, holding Minho at his shoulders with eyes studying him with the disappointment of a father and the confusion of a child.

“Ssstop- just- fUCk! Let go of me-“ Minho was thrashing in his arms, at this point he rendered a fish out of water, in dire need of something out of reach to breathe clearly. Beginning to freeze up as well as he hissed breaths in and out, acting as if he was going to pass out soon if Changbin didn’t do something, but what exactly, Changbin had no idea. 

Changbin has only heard distant horror stories of people rejecting their soulmate, shit like his sister’s friend’s brother’s cousin. Never in his life did he think he’d witness such a thing right before his very eyes. Before now, he didn’t even know what the incantation even was to reject a soulmate! Was there an incantation to undo it? Was there more than one to reject someone and if so did it need a specific matching reverse incantation? Does Minho know the reversal to the one he recited? Or could you even reverse it in the first place-

“Minho!!” Changbin gripped him by the shoulders this time, forcing his thrashes to a stop, though Minho was still huffing and puffing far too much to be just from the quick dash he did. “How do you reverse this!?”

“It’s too late, it’s too late, it's too laaaate~!“ Minho wallowed, practically blubbering, his eyes dazed and distant.

“Get over yourself!!” Changbin gritted his teeth before smacking him across the face, shaking his own head in disbelief. 

“OWW- wHAt the fU-“

“I said, get over yourself!” Changbin clutched at Minho tighter, forcing him to look into his fiery eyes. “Think of others for once and grow the fuck up, already! You got yourself in this mess, now how do you get yourself out of it?” 

“I did it out of free will-” Minho gasped for air, glaring his once sharp eyes at him. “It won’t be easy-” With each second passing by Minho’s breaths became more labored, his body twitching and stiff with intensity, veins popping out, pleading for help. 

Unlike the quick wildfire of pain you went through, Minho experiences a slow, dull pain creeping up him, leaving him begging for it to be over before it even really began. Drawn out, slow and steady in the worst way, with each minute he began to wish it were harsher or to get it over with. This dull, icy knife cutting at him slowly, was truly torturous, like a death from a thousand cuts. 

Changbin, on the other hand, was honestly so disgusted with this entire situation, and the fact it was out of his best friend’s own doing, made it even worse for him to deal with.

 “I don’t care how hard it is!! I want to know how to fix it!!” Changbin scorned and silently prayed to the universe to give him the patience to deal with Lee Minho for the rest of the long night he knew they had ahead of them. 

[caffeineivore]

The Taylor Swift Concert Hijinks

This is dedicated to the lovely @mygeekycorner and @minakosaino and follows the last thing I posted. M/K and a Taylor Swift Concert. Please don’t kill me, Swifties! Rated PG/PG13. Romance/humour.

The corporate office of Ainsley-Hart Holdings, LLC is not exactly her favourite hang-out spot, ever, but Romina Catherine Ainsley-Hart, “Mina” to everyone but her parents, still breezes in as though she has nowhere better to be at half-past four on a Thursday afternoon, carrying a cup-holder from Starbucks bearing no less than four drinks in one hand, a stylish oversized Gucci handbag in buttery red leather in the other. She plops the first one down at the desk of Janet, the formidable office receptionist, with a winning smile. “Grande soy flat white?” 

“Your father is off-site until five.” Wise to Mina’s wiles, Janet accepts the drink, but looks askance at the tray. “I was under the impression that you had a prior engagement-- drinks with some of your sorority sisters this evening? Shouldn’t you be uptown by now if you want to make it on time?”

“Well, Una has the flu, and Cassie bailed on me at the last minute because she has a hot date with Miguel Rivera-- you know, the buff Pro soccer player she hooked up with the last time she went to Cabo for vacation. He looked her up because he’s in town. So no drinks for me, no ma’am, so here I am! I’m just going to go on back, but I promise not to bother anyone or break anything!”

Janet humphs as though she doesn’t quite trust Mina’s word, and Mina pouts for a moment even as she sails off towards the elevator in the back. She’d jammed the copy machine one time, all of ten years ago, and the old battle axe still held a grudge! But no matter. She had more important fish to fry, so to speak. Her father’s office is empty, as per Janet’s report, but she sets down the espresso macchiato in the middle of the desk, with a post-it note scribbled “Mina was here!” with a smiley face tacked on as an afterthought. The four drinks now down to two remaining ones, she makes her way down the hall to the last door on the right. It’s open only a sliver, bearing a plain placard with the name “Kenneth Knightley, CFO” engraved on it. The quiet sounds of keyboard tapping alerted that her target is indeed inside, though from the looks of it, has his back turned to the door as he crunched numbers in a spreadsheet on the computer. Mina raps her knuckles on the door frame for a split second before she invites herself in. 

“Hey, Kenneth! I brought you coffee.” Kenneth, never Kenny or Ken, had been working for her father since her college days, though they rarely exchanged more than the usual pleasantries. Smart, driven, serious and good-looking in the unapproachable chiseled-jaw alpha-male way, Mina had always been quite certain that he had exactly zero use for the likes of her. That she knew bits and pieces about him that he’d never exactly told her himself-- his coffee order, for example (Grande Triple Americano, one non-dairy creamer, no sugar)-- was beside the point. But there was the not-small matter of the Taylor Swift concert tickets currently burning a hole in the bottom of her handbag, which had been discreetly dropped in there at some point after the gala masquerade. Exactly in the way that her infuriating older brother, Zander, had prophesied. And if he’d been right about that, then…

Kenneth’s shoulders snap straight, and he takes a moment to turn around, but by the time that he does, he’s schooled his face into polite neutrality. “Good afternoon, Mina.”

She’d insisted on their first meeting that she would not answer to ‘Miss Ainsley-Hart’ and only her mother called her ‘Romina’, and generally when she was not behaving herself. It had still taken him a good six months before he’d started calling her ‘Mina’, and she wasn’t above feeling a thrill of gratification whenever her name was spoken in those grave, collected tones. “You busy? I can just sit here and drink my own coffee until you finish. I got a caramel frappuccino with extra whipped cream and cinnamon dolce sprinkles on top. It is delicious.”

“I will take your word for it.” He saves whatever spreadsheet he’d been working on, then closes out of it, courteously. “What brings you here today?”

“Well, I thought I’d say hi, and you know Janet almost didn’t let me back here because I think she hates me, but you’re free tomorrow night, right? For the concert? Because you are so going with me since those are your tickets and I am so thankful that you thought to give them to me but it would be wrong if you didn’t come with, seeing as to how you paid for them. So I came to set up the plans so we can go there tomorrow and have a great time and I am so going to treat you to drinks beforehand so you can be good and tipsy before dealing with legions of screaming fans, which I’m sure is completely not your scene. So, yes. Do you want to meet at my place, or yours? Five o’clock?”

“I…” Kenneth blinks, apparently caught off-guard. “You don’t have any friends who you’d want to go with you to that concert?” He doesn’t try to deny the fact that he had, indeed, bought expensive-ass Taylor Swift tickets and dropped them into her purse. But then again, she’d never known for him to be less than scrupulously honest about anything.

“That’s not the point!” Mina has a tendency to talk with her hands, and this time she has the wherewithal to set her sugary coffee concoction on his desk first before launching into her schpiel. “You do not have to give me concert tickets just to be nice! And while it’s a sweet gesture on your part, I could at least also get to enjoy your company while at this concert, you know? I insist. You’re going or I will give these tickets away to someone else. And then I would be sad, because they’re TAYLOR SWIFT TICKETS. So, where do you want to meet? We’ll have an hour before the concert begins and we can get drinks before then. My treat, of course. You do drink in moderation on social occasions, right? Oh of course you do. Glenfiddich and soda, if I remember correctly. From the last company Christmas party.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him carefully pull a Kleenex out of the box on the desk and place it, coaster-style, underneath her frappuccino cup, and curses herself for not thinking of it, but soldiers on nonetheless. “So yes. I think we can meet at my place. It’s a bit closer. And there’s a great little bar called Dazzle right by the venue which certainly has your Glenfiddich as well as a nice wine selection, since I’m pretty sure Scotch would put me out on my ass, and you don’t need me embarrassing you on top of everything else. Please don’t stand me up? I know this is probably not your idea of a fun time, but…”

Perhaps the faintest note of uncertainty makes it into her voice, because Kenneth finally cracks the tiniest of smiles, and faint though it is, it transforms his whole face. “I wouldn’t do that.” 

Well, maybe it was a good thing he didn’t smile often, because there was no point in being turned into a babbling incoherent mess just by the random side observation that his eyelashes were a few shades darker than his hair, curly and surprisingly long, and that his eyes softened from the colour of the sky before a thunderstorm to a pleasant cashmere-charcoal. Mina meets that faint smile with a blinding megawatt one of her own and picks up her half-melted frappuccino. “So, five o’clock it is. I’ll let you get back to work and see you tomorrow, then. I’m so excited!!”

**

True to his word, Kenneth does not stand her up, and the doorman of her building calls her at 4:59 on the dot to tell her that she has a visitor. Mina spritzes on perfume and gives her hair one final once-over in the mirror before opening the door for him, and really, it’s not fair. She knows, intellectually, that he’s tall and built in such a way that no stodgy numbers-crunching finance guy has any right to be, but it’s easy to forget when he’s usually hunched over a computer at the office. Here, standing in front of her in pressed gray slacks and a white button-down, he towers over her even in her sparkly Jimmy Choos. 

“Good evening, Mina. You look… nice.” If he’s a bit disconcerted by how glittery her dress is, he doesn’t say it. He does hold out her coat for her to slip into, and offer her his arm. It’s not a date, not exactly, but that doesn’t mean that Mina’s not about to make the most of it. She may or may not be vibrating with excitement, but keeps up a steady stream of conversation as they spend an hour at the bar over his Glenfiddich and her Riesling. Kenneth doesn’t talk too much about himself, seeming content to inquire, in his grave, polite way, what she’d been up to the last week. 

“Well, there was wrapping up the stuff with the fundraiser, of course. Una bought the Dior dress, and it looks beautiful on her, and Matthew is going to swallow his tongue when he sees her in it. And I saw Zander off to the airport. He was a bit distracted after the party, which bears further investigation, but he’s in Vancouver now, so it’s hard to get all up in his business while he’s so far away. I’ll still call him later, because at least it’s Canada and not like, Madagascar or something, right?” Zander had also been the one to clue her into Kenneth’s possible intentions, and that has her staring into the pale golden surface of her wine, uncomfortably aware that she’s blushing. “Anyway, there’s the tax forms for the fundraiser to get filed, but I’m pretty sure they just got slapped on your desk by my mom the morning after. In which case, I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. I sort of get paid to handle stuff like that.” 

“You’re paid to handle the real estate company’s finances, not this nonsense, and don’t try to pass it off as no big deal, because I did minor in econ at NYU, and non-profit is a whole new breed of pain in the ass to deal with from an accounting point of view. But thanks for handling it.” Mina plays with the slim stem of her wine glass, then glances up at him through her eyelashes. “The first time I met Dr. Miller, before the fundraiser, she cut the meeting short to Face-time her hospital in San Jose to talk to one of her patients. I sort of hung around. He’s a six-year-old boy who wants to be Captain America when he grows up, which… is a one in a hundred chance. She talked Avengers with him for ten minutes, and I’m pretty sure that’s not her type of movie. I almost cried.”

“She does important work, and so do you, for helping those like her get their funding.” 

Mina beams, and when the bartender moseys on over, cheerfully orders both of them a refill before asking for the check. “I’m so glad you think so. So many people think that only ditzy rich girls work on fundraisers, and don’t have any idea how hard it can be. Do people think that Dior exclusives commissioned for A-listers just fall out of the sky or something? Anyway, we have time for another drink before we should get going. Figure I should let you get as tipsy as possible before Tay-Tay. Which… what type of music do you like, anyway?”

She had never seen him at a loss before this very moment, but this is most certainly the most deer-in-headlights look which had possibly ever crossed Kenneth Knightley’s face in the history of ever. He takes a long swallow of the Scotch and soda that has just been set down in front of him, then clears his throat. “I’m not much of a music guy.”

“Oh, surely you listen to something? It’s okay if it’s embarrassing. Opera? Trance techno? Death metal? I won’t judge, even if nothing trumps Tay-Tay.”

“No, nothing.”

“What do you mean, nothing?” Mina blinks, her wineglass halfway to her mouth as she stares at him with not a little confusion. “Surely you listen to something. In the shower, or on the subway. Everyone does. No one actually talks to people on the subway.”

“Umm. Usually NPR, though I follow a few podcasts as well.”

He looks so glum and embarrassed at this admission, as though not being a music guy would disappoint her on a personal level, and though her mind sort of boggles at the idea of anyone who would listen to NPR while showering, she grins at him over the surprise and gives his arm a quick squeeze, noting at random that the bicep underneath her fingertips is solid and firm as a softball. 

“Well, you’re in for a real treat, then. Tay-Tay is the GOAT. Just you wait and see.”

**

An hour and a half later finds Mina with a brand new sparkly white-and-gold Taylor Swift concert tee thrown over her equally sparkly dress, jamming and singing along with “I Knew You Were Trouble When You Walked In” next to a petite dark-haired girl with a nose-ring who, in typical concert fashion, was now her new best friend. Kenneth’s face looks much like that of someone in the waiting room of the dentist’s office right before a scheduled root canal. As there is a seven-foot-tall linebacker-sized man in a top hat and a legit Taylor Swift onesie dancing with at least equal enthusiasm to Mina and her new friend on his other side, she supposed that she couldn’t blame his discomfiture too much. 

The pop star goes on to something slower a few songs later-- All Too Well, a ballad about lost love, and the dark haired girl lets out a few hiccuping sobs at Mina’s side, so Mina wraps both arms around her and they hug it out for the duration of the song. Like magic, the melancholy mood vanishes when the next song comes on, and they’re belting along with “Shake It Off” and dancing around Kenneth in a way likely designed to give him whiplash. But for all this behaviour is undoubtedly outlandish and completely incomprehensible to him, Kenneth looks as though he could be persuaded to crack a smile if he’d only let himself relax a little more, so Mina redoubles her efforts, likely yelling out “Haters Gonna Hate Hate Hate Hate Hate” loud enough to annoy everyone around them. But it does bring a tiny smile to his mouth for a second, and she finds, to her surprise, that she’s okay with him finding amusement at her ridiculousness. That had never, ever happened before with another guy. 

“Are you having fun?!” She shouts at him over the applause and cheers as the song comes to a close. “Isn’t Taylor the best ever?!”

“It’s… catchy, I suppose. The music, that is.” It seems as though he had to think hard to find the correct word, but Mina forgives him even as she links her arm through his. 

“I’m glad you’re having fun, because we still have the backstage passes and we get to MEET HER IN PERSON! I am having the best time EVER!”

Much to his credit, Kenneth doesn’t say anything, though the sigh that he lets out says it all for him. 

**

They hit up a 24 hour diner after the concert, and this time, he insists on paying for her greasy hash browns and slightly burnt coffee, and though she knows quite well that he has likely been up for close to twenty-four hours at this point, he is a consummate gentleman and doesn’t mention that fact, and lets her excitedly run through a blow-by-blow of the concert that they’d just attended as he nurses his own coffee. 

“And she is so nice isn’t she? And so so pretty! I wish I was that tall. Legs for days. Then I wouldn’t have to jog to keep up with tall people, or they wouldn’t have to slow down their stride like you’ve been doing all night, don’t think I haven’t noticed.” Mina nibbles on a hash brown and gulps coffee adulterated with a good half-cup of sugar and cream. “Did you have some fun, though? At least a little? I hope I haven’t irritated you too much.”

“No, you didn’t irritate me, and you’re fine just as you are. You don’t need to be any taller.” It’s not exactly the most poetic or flowery of compliments, and yet Mina feels the stilted words warm her from within. Now, post-adrenaline-rush, a bit tired and content, somewhat cold from gallivanting about in a tiny dress all night and letting second-rate greasy food warm her back up, she absolutely can’t think of a better way to spend her Friday night. Undoubtedly, her usual crew is out at some place a great deal fancier, and having a blast, and yet… she takes a second hash brown and smiles up at Kenneth. 

“So, should I get you a Taylor Swift album for your next birthday? I love her new one, but the old ones are where it’s really at.” 

“You don’t have to get me anything for my birthday. But I should get you home, yeah? It’s getting late, and you’re probably cold. That coat’s still bound to be drafty with that dress, and you’ve been wearing it unbuttoned half the time.” Almost as though on impulse, he buttons it up all the way, then jerks his hands back like he hadn’t meant to take such a liberty. 

The traffic is reasonable by New York City standards when they share a cab to her place, and he walks her all the way to her door, gentleman-like. Mina turns to him with a smile, and-- is he leaning towards her just a little? 

He is, one hand held out towards her, and she launches herself at him, wrapping both arms around a broad back firm with muscle underneath his black pea-coat, but he freezes, stiff as a board, and belatedly she realizes that he probably meant to shake her hand rather than give her a hug, and she’s quite certain that the heat of her cheeks is warm enough to start a fire in the hallway. But there’s nothing to do but roll with it, and she stands on tiptoe, leaving a whisper of Tom Ford Lavish against his jaw as she air-kisses him. 

“Well, good night. And have a good weekend. I’ll see you around. Probably.” Uncomfortably aware that she’s babbling, like she has been all night long, really, she unlocks her door while managing to avoid his eyes, and all but jogs in, heels and all. She leans against the door after it’s locked back up behind her, and lets out a windy sigh as she pulls up Spotify on her phone. 

Lovelorn ballads by Taylor seemed to be in order, possibly played on repeat, the neighbours be damned.

**

Mina takes four days to talk herself into visiting the office again, and even then, makes a point to shuffle her own schedule for the day, getting up at an ungodly hour of the morning to sweet-talk a contact in Milan to donate couture evening-wear for a charity fashion show-- proceeds to benefit victims of domestic violence. That phone call, which was originally slotted in for early afternoon, freed up the rest of the morning to visit the salon after a shopping trip to Bergdorf Goodman-- it was never too late, after all, to get her parents the present for their upcoming anniversary, and she went with the traditional 35th anniversary gemstone of emerald for both-- finding matching platinum-and-emerald cufflinks for her dad and earrings for her mother. She has both presents wrapped and sent off to her place, and then leaves herself at the tender mercies of her stylist, Adrianna, whose surgeon-steady hands snip off the split ends of her golden hair and refreshes the layers without taking off so much as a centimeter more than necessary. In the very least, she knows, she will be facing Kenneth looking her absolute best. Not that he was the shallow type like that, but still.

“That’s a boy-related frown, and boy-related frowns cause wrinkles.” Adrianna’s voice floats, matter-of-fact, above her head. “I’m double-booked like a mother-trucker this whole week because of the ills of holiday over-indulgence which apparently I’m supposed to wave my magic wand and handle, and don’t have time to deal with wrinkles today, sweetie, so you’re either just going to have to jump him or get over him.”

“I don’t know if jumping him is in the cards, and there’s no getting over someone who never exactly-- well. It’s weird, is all.” Mina starts to pick at her nails, a bad habit from her middle school days, but a stern look reflected in the mirror stops the fidgety movement in its tracks. “Am I so obvious?”

“Sweetie, I’m pretty sure I’ve not seen a boy-related frown on your face since I did your updo and makeup for senior prom, and had to bite my tongue so I wouldn’t tell you that any boy who told people to call him ‘Ace’ with a straight-ass face is clearly on next-level rom-com antagonist levels of douchebag. But all I can do is make you look gorgeous, not that you’re not already, and wish you luck. Please tell me he at least has a normal name.”

“His name is Kenneth, and he has an MBA from Columbia, and he works for my dad, and he has absolutely no use for me whatsoever.”

“Oh, nonsense. If he found some use for you, he’d probably have lobbied for you to be on daddy dearest’s payroll, and then where would we be? Wearing some ugly blazer and god-awful follicle-destroying chignon. My suggestion is to get a stupidly large box of chocolates, of course. The damned things are already getting put up in stores in preparation for Valentine’s Day, of course. Either the boy is not interested, and then you can self-medicate with chocolate endorphins, or he is interested, and you can share the chocolates, in bed.”

The deliberately crass suggestion brings Mina out of her funk, as it is intended to do, and she laughs helplessly even as Adrianna finishes blowing out her hair, fussing with it until it gleams like sunlit silk. Mina thanks the stylist and leaves a generous tip, and then stops at a boutique bakery en route to the office. She does buy the stupidly large box of chocolates, but also a fancy box of assorted macarons in numerous pastel shades. 

**

This time, when she arrives at the desk of the formidable Janet, she doesn’t do much more than hold out the delicate cookies as a peace offering. “I’m just going to go on back.”

“Good for you. I’m too busy to chit-chat anyway. Take your cookies and be off. Close the door behind you when you have it out with him, will you?” Janet doesn’t even look up from the computer screen, the phone receiver cradled between her shoulder and jaw as she clacks away at the keyboard. Mina looks at the solidly-built brunette with a little bit of consternation, but Janet simply waves an irritable hand in dismissal. Put squarely in her place, she makes her silent way to the elevators, and makes a beeline towards Kenneth’s office. 

It’s almost deja vu when she gets there. Door slightly ajar. The man seated at his desk, typing away at some spreadsheet. She knocks, then lets herself in. “Hi.” To her annoyance, her voice seems to have gone all breathy and low.

Kenneth still takes his time to turn around, but this time, when he does, his expression is almost soft. As with the last time, he closes the Excel spreadsheet and gives her his full attention. “Mina. What brings you here today?”

“I… cookies? That is, do you want cookies? I thought I’d come and say hi. Hopefully you’re recovered from being surrounded by Swifties. Are you busy?” Belatedly, she remembers Janet’s injunction that she close the door, and gives it a hasty shove. The slam sounds overly loud in this quiet hallway, and she blushes. “I know my dad usually schedules his meetings in the mornings, so I figured this would be a better time.”

“Yeah, he’s off-site. A late business lunch with some guy from an architectural firm. And you didn’t need to come and make sure I’m all right. I… I had a good time that evening. Really.”

“I should’ve brought you something for lunch rather than cookies, probably, but they looked so good. Not practical, though.” She, too, wasn’t the practical type. Taylor Swift and sparkly dresses as opposed to NPR and spreadsheets. What was she doing, really? Without anyone here to stop her, she sets down both cookies and candy box on his desk and picks at her cuticles. “Anyway. Glad you didn’t hate it. I should probably go. I’m sorry if I bothered you.”

For such a big man, he moves with incredible speed as he stands up and comes around the desk, blocking her way to the door before she’d registered that he’d moved. “Mina. Are you all right? You seem out of sorts, and in the… six years, seven months, two days and… an hour and a half?... that I’ve known you, you’ve never been like this.”

She blinks up at him, then crosses her arms. “Six years, seven months, two days, and three hours and fifteen minutes. I know exactly when I met you.”

“No, your dad introduced you to me before taking you out for lunch that day at eleven o’clock. It’s twelve twenty-six right now.”

Mina, if she closes her eyes, can see that day as clear as if it were yesterday, down to the navy blue tie knotted just a little too tight on the man standing across from her. He’d filled out a bit since that internship when he’d started working at the firm, and his ties were both more expensive and more expertly tied nowadays, but… She raises her chin stubbornly. “Yeah, that’s when my dad introduced us. But I actually met you before that, when I was running to make the elevator and you held it open for me, remember? I said hi, you said hi back. I remember thinking, when my dad introduced us, oh, it was nice to have a name to go with the hot guy I’d run into on the elevator. But you sort of didn’t have any use for me, and you still don’t, not really, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy each other’s company, right? Maybe not at another Taylor Swift concert, if that’s truly not your thing, but I…”

“You remember that?” She’s not quite sure how he got so close, but he’s standing right in front of her now, and when she looks up, she’s eye-level to his chin. She tilts her head up, and the expression in his face is something she’s never seen before, and it gives her enough courage to finish.

“I remember a lot of things about you, Kenneth! You just don’t know, because you don’t pay much attention to me, which I guess we don’t have too much in common, not really, but just because we don’t talk that much doesn’t mean that I don’t know, just like you must have known how much I wanted to go to that concert, and being there with you was the best time I’ve had in forever, though you can’t tell Una that, because she’ll be sad and look like a kitten left out in the rain, and I was just trying to work up the nerve to see if you wanted to spend some more time together and…”

She’s cut off mid-sentence by a pair of strong arms, bare to the elbows with the sleeves rolled up, hauling her up just a little off her feet and pulling her close. She has one breathless moment to register that he smells really, really good before she’s being kissed, and there’s nothing placid about it at all as one hand fists in the glossy hair that Adrianna had just so painstakingly blown out and the other lands at the small of her back, hot and wide through the thin material of her dress. She can do nothing but clutch at his wide shoulders and hang on for dear life, but a moment later, she gives as good as she gets, lips parting under his and soothing the tiny nip that she inflicts on his lower lip with a flick of her tongue. A moan breaks the silence of the office, and she belatedly realizes that it escaped from her lips as his mouth shifts to the sensitive skin of her jaw, giving both of them the chance to catch their breaths. 

Mina slides her fingers through the silky hair at the nape of his neck and leans her head against the crook of his shoulder, where it seems to fit perfectly. “Don’t you dare start to regret kissing me.” The words come out forcefully, but with a bit of a tremble nonetheless which she tries to hide by muffling it against his neck. He’d have lipstick on his collar, but it couldn’t be helped. 

A faint, slightly breathless chuckle escapes him, rumbling through his chest underneath her ear. “No. I regret not kissing you that night, though.” That statement is delivered in a shockingly frank, matter-of-fact way even as he tilts her face back up. Her fingers, of their own volition, link together at the back of his neck, and she’s sure that her smile is both goofy and excessive. It was quite likely that she would not be eating that box of chocolate in its entirety in boy-inflicted angst, after all. 

“Well, I can invite you to dinner tonight, and we can make up for lost time afterwards. Unless you’re busy. If you’re busy, we can resche--”

His mouth stamps over hers, cutting her off mid-sentence, but the kiss is sweet and gentle this time, and she’s sighing with the romance of it all by the time he pulls back. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Okay.”

The giddy thrill of it is not unlike something that would be touched upon in a Taylor Swift song, she decides, but she keeps that thought to herself for the moment. Maybe in another six years, seven months, two days and however many hours, she’d bring that up again. Surely by then, she could teach him to enjoy the finer things in life, such as jamming to pop music in the shower. 

[msjr0119]

Hold my girl

Part 3

No one really knows about TRR Main characters past …. Most of this series is based on flashbacks from her childhood. I’ve changed the main characters name to, Freya Johnson as Riley Brooks is used in my other series.

Freya is in love with Drake, but he hasn’t returned the feelings- instead just acts horrible towards her. Will Freya return back to Cordonia with the court or will she stay in the USA after the UN party.

Posting the next three chapters of this today- going to stagger them 😊

Tags:

@annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @whenyourheartskipsabeat @jovialyouthmusic @nz1091 @yukinagato2012 @indiacater @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @cordonianroyalty @custaroonie @beardedoafdonutwagon @dcbbw @qammh-blog

******

Freya arrived back at her hotel room, exhausted from the UN Party. Giving fake smiles to almost all the nobles reminded her of working in the bar with Daniel. They were the experts when it came to fake smiles for the arsehole customers. She even joked that they could have won an Oscar with their performances. Freya remembered how Daniel would laugh every time her “smile” appeared.

“Another day another dollar eh Dan?” Was the phrase she always used.

She was thankful that her childhood friend- her only friend who had convinced to accept the bar job after she finished her degree. She needed anything that provide her with money for bills and to pay off the student debt.

When her parents died when she was 15 she was grateful for all the hard work the hospital staff did to try and save their life’s. Once she had turned 18 she had decided to train as a nurse to help others that may be in that same situation. It was hard getting a job in New York - there were no jobs in ER available. Was it a waste of time doing a degree to work as a waitress? Thinking back to the time she received the news that would change her life, she wondered where it all went wrong.

“O my god!!!” Freya started shaking. Daniel rushed up to her. Was she okay? What had happened? He would do absolutely anything for her.

“Freya what’s up? Is everything okay? “

“Dan, I got in.” Daniel looked confused.

“I got onto the nursing course. I can’t believe it. Will I make a good nurse?”

“Freya you gave me a fright. I thought something bad had happened. You will make the best nurse New York has seen. Congratulations sweetie!” He grabbed her and gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. She blushed and grabbed her phone and purse.

“C’mon we need to celebrate!! But first l need to let mom and dad know.”

Freya’s heart sank, not only due to the heartbreak regarding Drake but she realised that she had missed her annual trip to her parents grave with Daniel. Would they be mad at her? Would they be happy that she was having an adventure and that she had possibly fallen in love at last? That she had made new friends?

For the first time that night she pulled her phone out of her clutch bag and looked at it. A text from Daniel. What does he mean? He needs to ask me something- what could it be?

“Hey you, sorry I didn’t reply straight away. What’s up? Frey x”

She waited and waited. No reply. It was 2.30am. Normal people would be asleep at this time, but Daniel would have only finished his shift an hour ago. After their night shifts they would usually stay awake and watch a bit of tv, eat junk food.

“Dan is everything okay? Please reply. X “

It was now 3.30am. Freya decided to ring him. As her phone dialled his number, there was a loud knock at the door. She went to answer it and hung up the call to Daniel.

“Little blossom. You’re awake!” No shit Sherlock, she thought.

“Maxwell? Bertrand? What’s up?”

“Lady Freya, get dressed. We’ve found him in LA! The royal jet is waiting for us.”

“The royal jet?”

“Yes Liam is aware and has advised us to use it. We have no time to waste- Drake, Hana and the others are waiting.”

“Can it just be the three of us please? We started this journey together and I want to end it just us Beaumont’s?”

Maxwell knew she wouldn’t exactly be thrilled with Drake, but he was desperate to inform her what Drake had confessed prior that evening.

“Of course if that’s what you want.” Bertrand replied, he thought the less people that knew about their trip would be an advantage to them.

“I guess that means we’re off to LA.”

Freya quickly threw on some black jeggings, a basic top, and her leather jacket.

“Dan i have to go to LA, will be back as soon as possible. I will meet you. Love ya, Frey x”

*****

“So La is a big place, where do we start?”

“We hired a private detective, we know the place. Don’t worry.” Bertrand explained. Freya just nodded, attempting to stay awake. Maxwell slid into the seat next to her, handing her a steaming black coffee. Debating on how he was going to tell her the news he knew she’d like to hear.

“Hey blossom, I’ve got something I need to tell you. It’s like really important.”

“What’s up?”

“It’s Drake, he....”

“It’s not important then is it? Sorry Max I’m really tired. Can you tell me later?”

“Freya... he doesn’t hate you....”

“Okay. We’ll talk about it later I promise.”

Max was considering just blurting it out- instead decided to remain quiet. Contemplating whether he should play match maker or not, would Freya and Drake hate him interfering?

*****

Daniel woke up after a long sleep, which was unusual for him. He usually didn’t get to sleep straight away after work.

He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a strong coffee. When he checked his phone he realised Freya had text him back and had tried to ring him.

She’s going to LA? In the middle of the night? What the hell is going off?

“Hey Frey, sorry I missed your call and texts. I fell asleep after work- I know it’s not usual for us to do that eh? What are you doing in LA is everything okay? I’m working shorter shifts for the next few days. Would be great to catch up! Let me know what you think. Dan x”

Daniel decided to get ready for the day. Wondering if Freya was okay and if she would meet him? Just then his phone lit up.

“Dan, the people who I went with are going to sleep. They are tired after the flight. Give me an hour to get ready and meet me at the cafe?”

Daniel smiled. Knowing his best friend wanted to meet him even know she was probably knackered.

******

Walking into the cafe, the aroma that she was used to on a daily basis made her feel sentimental. She had missed the scent of the cafe that was like her second home.

“Hey!”

“Hey you. I ordered your favourite Cronut and obviously the special vanilla milkshake.”

“Thanks Dan. You’re the best!” They both sat in silence for a while, Freya yawning every so often.

“So? What’s going on Frey?” Daniel asked sounding concerned. She was never the spontaneous type of person until she met these new people.

“You wouldn’t believe it even if I told you. You remember the night before I left?”

“Of course I do. There was a bachelor party and I asked you to cover me for my date with Lola.”

“Yeah, well. That bachelor party. Well. The bachelor was a crown prince of a country in Europe.” Daniel looked godsmacked, believing she was pulling his leg.

“I always told my mom that I didn’t believe in fairytales. But. I don’t know. I think fate happened that night.”

“With the prince?” Daniel asked.

“At first it was about him. But when I saw Drake, I knew there was something about him. He was so closed off. But yet so handsome. He is a jerk to me. But as I got to know him, at times he let his guards down and I. I...”

“You started to fall for him Frey?” Daniel smiled at his friend as her eyes sparkled at the mention of the mans name.

“Yeah” Freya blushed, “at first it wasn’t about finding love. It was about having an adventure of a lifetime. Getting to visit Europe as part of the royal court- if I had to play princess to do this, I thought it was fun.”

“Play princess?”

“Yes it was to join prince Liam’s social season. He needed a wife, a Queen to rule alongside of him. I didn’t think I’d fall for him. Don’t get me wrong, he is handsome, sweet and his eyes are just so sparkly. But then shit happened. He proposed to someone else and then they threw me out. It’s long story Dan. But when I was allowed back, Drake and the others had my back all the time, the more time I spent with them all I was happy that I had met such amazing people. And I fell in love with Drake rather than Liam- which I was expected to do.”

Freya paused not knowing what to say. Did she say too much? Is Daniel confused? Daniel looked at his friend, seeing the glimmer in her eyes every time she mentioned his name - Drake. He knew Drake was the one for her, if the stubborn ass liked her too. And he was incredibly happy for her. But something told him it wasn’t that simple.

“What do you mean they threw you out? Allowed you back in? Why did you go to LA in the middle of the night? Does Drake love you back? He could be hiding his true feelings?”

Freya explained about Tariq and the situation about clearing her name. If she didn’t need to clear her name with the Beaumont’s, Drakes and Hana’s support she would have jumped on the plane straight back to New York. Ignoring what he mentioned about Drakes feelings, she didn’t want to talk about him at this moment in time.

“So what happens now that you’ve found him?”

“He’s due to do a statement. It will hopefully clear my name. Then hopefully I can be free from the scandal. I had hoped that I could just maybe be happy with Drake.”

Daniel gave her a half hearted smile. Freya explained that she was starting to get tired and needed to get ready for the wedding shower.

“If you need me for anything. I mean anything. Just let me know. I’m here for you always.”

“Thanks Dan. What did you want to ask me by the way?”

“It doesn’t matter Frey. Keep me updated.”

They both went their separate ways. Freya walked along the pier, the place was unusually quiet- usually it was buzzing with people rushing by, bumping into each other- apologising as they did this. The peace was nice.

“Jono! Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you ever since Max returned to the hotel room. I need to talk to you.”

“I couldn’t sleep, I went out with Daniel for a bit. I’m feeling tired now though.”

“Can we talk? Please. I’m sorry for upsetting you... I just.... I...”

“It’s fine. Honestly forget it. I’ll see you at the wedding shower.” Drake knew he had to stop her, from walking away- doing what she did best. Grabbing her arm, she winced at his touch. Not realising how hard he grabbed her.

“Drake you’re hurting me!”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Don’t touch me like that again please. See you later.” Seeing her walk away rubbing her arm then her cheeks, he knew he’d made her cry again.

“Fuck.” Drake muttered as he saw her disappear away from him yet again.

*****

Drake walked into the hotel room that he was sharing with Maxwell. Noticing Max drooling all over himself- he laughed, even considered taking a picture of him. Anything to get his mind off constantly hurting the woman that he loved.

“Drake? I thought you’d be with Freya. Did you find her?” Sitting down with his hands in his head- he knew she wasn’t going to talk to him privately possibly due to his past attitude towards her.

“I found her alright. I hurt her again. She won’t talk to me.”

“What did you do her this time?”

“I tried to stop her from walking away... I grabbed her arm- not knowing my own strength. I hurt her.”

“Drake when she’s in those moods you need to let her walk away. I know her better than anyone does. If she isn’t going to listen to you, maybe you shouldn’t have been an ass with her ever since we met her. You are both as stubborn as each other. Text her, if she won’t listen.”

“What do I put?” Maxwell shook his head, snatching Drakes phone off him- he wished now that he hadn’t interfered.

Freya, I know you don’t want to talk to me and I don’t blame you. I’m an arsehole. I’m a horrible person at times. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to you- but the truth is, I love you. I always have done, ever since I met you in your bar I thought you were beautiful and you are out of my league. Anyway, I’ll see you soon. I love you Jono xxx

“There, how hard was that?” Maxwell looked smug with the impromptu text he had just created.

“Very. If she doesn’t want to know me at least I’ve tried.”

******

Freya got her phone out and text Justin. Noticing a text from Drake she read the first sentence as it popped up on her screen. She couldn’t deal with Drakes self pity not at this moment in time.

“Hey Justin, can I speak to Liam and Madeleine before you publish Tariq’s statement? I’ll let you know when I’ve spoken to them x”

“I’d advise you to just go public. But whatever you want Freya. Sure thing.”

After Justin replied, she had a number ring her from Vegas- the hospital, the job. With all the stress from Tariq she had forgotten about the job application she rushed when they first arrived in New York.

Arriving at the shower, she slightly regretted going out with Daniel rather than having a power kip. Drake and Maxwell, noticed Freya arrive- she didn’t show any emotions. She never text Drake back, he was nervous every time his phone vibrated. Walking over to them, she smiled at the two.

“Are you okay blossom?”

Shit! Can he see straight through me. Do I tell him what’s really up? I trust him with my life, he’s like my brother.

“I’m fine. I suppose it’s just the stress with the engagement tour, then finding Tariq, being back where it all started?” Shit she hasn’t mentioned Drakes or should I say my text.

“Yeah suppose so.” Freya noticed Drake looking down to the ground. Thinking about the first time they met. He regretted being a jerk with her but it was his way of hiding his feelings that he liked her- knowing now that her personality would have informed him what she really thought about the text.

“Drake are you okay?” She asked softly.

“Yeah, I just don’t know what it’ll mean once the truth about applewood comes to light. What it means for you and Liam?” Maxwell assumed Drake was attempting to use reverse psychology to get into the mind of Freya.

“Drake. There is no me and Liam. Maybe there was something at the beginning but that was it. I have enjoyed this little adventure with you all.”

“Jono I- I ... “

Come on Walker, just tell her you love her face to face and that you are afraid of losing her. Just tell her you care for her and will always be there for her. Maxwell did all the hard work texting her, now it’s upto you.

“I’ve enjoyed this adventure with you too. Hey, who’d have thought my dive bar expertise would lead us to each other?” he said nervously but smiled until Maxwell ‘accidently’ stood on his toe.

Freya stepped towards Max and Drake, kissing them both softly on the cheek before pulling them in for a group hug.

“I’m going to miss you guys. I’ll be right back- I need to find Madeleine and Liam.” Drake and Maxwell looked bewildered at her last words- forgetting about it they put it to the back on their minds hoping she didn’t know what she was talking about due to insomnia.

[theycallmebeccawrites]

Chris & Ellie Series: Episode 5

With Tumblr holding my original writing blog @beccaheartschrisevans captive (aka flagged as explicit), I have made a secondary writing blog and may end up closing the other all together. In the meantime, I am reposting all of my stories on my new blog.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Ellie Spencer (OFC)

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: n/a

Episode Summary: This episode takes place in July 2013 and is about how Ellie got Daisy.

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

The Chris and Ellie series is primarily chronological.  It begins with a flash forward to 2016 and has a few other scenes in the future.  However, the majority of their story is told in chronological order starting in 2013 and going through 2017. Each episode starts with a date to help you place it within the story.

The Chris & Ellie Series Masterlist | Chris & Ellie Masterlist

Episode 4.5

Episode 5: Finding Daisy

July 19, 2013

Chris smiled as he looked around the kitchen table, watching as Ellie, her sister Isabelle and his brother Scott all cackled over the cards they'd played in the round of Cards Against Humanity that he was the Card Czar for. Despite the fun they were all having now, he felt guilty that the paparazzi had ruined their night.

Two hours earlier, the four of them had been eating at a small Italian restaurant outside the normal "celebrity zone", but someone had tipped off his location to the paparazzi. The owner had personally apologized to Chris about the situation and had offered to comp their meal, but Chris had declined the offer and had even left a bigger tip due to how the paparazzi would affect the other diners' meals.

Turning to the other three, Chris had suggested that they continue with their plans while he went home. It had been Ellie who had suggested they all go back to the house and play cards or something instead. Isabelle and Scott hadn't been thrilled with the idea, but they had agreed.

"Earth to Chris?" his brother said, waving his hands in front of Chris's face. "You still playing?"

"Yeah, sorry," Chris replied. Looking back at the cards in front of him, he reread the black prompt card 'Introducing Xtreme Baseball! It's like baseball, but with ________!'

Then he looked at the three white cards he had already flipped over:

'My collection of high-tech sex toys.'

'The swim team, all at once.'

And then the card that had made them start cackling in the first place:

'Genetically engineered super-soldiers.'

The simple shake of his head set off their laughter again and he couldn't help but choose the card that someone had obviously been saving just for him.

"Genetically engineered super-soldiers," he said as he flipped the other two losing cards over.

"YES!" Isabelle shouted as she reached across the table to grab the black prompt card, almost knocking her glass of wine off the table.

"Careful there, drunko." Scott teased her as he rescued the wine glass.

Upon returning to the house, Chris and Ellie had both changed out of the clothes they'd worn to dinner, opting to wear more comfortable clothes; yoga pants, a maroon tank top and a plaid button down for her and sweats and t-shirt for him. Isabelle and Scott, on the other hand, had remained in their nice clothes, with Isabelle simply adding one of Ellie's long sweater jackets over her dress and replacing her heels with a pair of UGGs.

"Alright, my turn," Ellie said as she grabbed a black prompt card from the pile.  "What will always get you laid?"

Chris didn't have to look down at his cards to know which one to play. He quickly found the card and then laid it face down on the table.

Scott and Isabelle quickly played their own cards and then Ellie took on the task of picking the winner.

"What will always gets you laid?" she repeated and then picked up the first white answer card. "Being John Malkovich." She nodded her head slowly and picked up the second card. "Teaching a robot to love." She added a shrug to her nod and then turned over the third card. A grin spread across her face immediately and she shouted, "DEM TITTIES FOR THE WIN!"

Sliding his hand over, Chris pulled the black card over to his small pile while the others laughed again.

There was no question in his mind as to why he'd thought of her the second he'd drawn the 'dem titties' card, especially considering the dress she'd worn to dinner. He'd known she had boobs, it was obvious, but that dress had put them on display and he hadn't not liked it.

"Chris, are you playing or not?" his brother's voice broke into his thoughts.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Chris replied. He took a look at the black prompt card 'She's up all night for good fun, I'm up all night for _______.' and selected the best answer from his hand.

"Finding Waldo," Isabelle read aloud a moment later. "Dry heaving. That's disgusting. And lastly, Pictures of boobs." She looked at the cards on the table and then tapped the first one, Finding Waldo.

"That would be mine," Scott said, grabbing the black prompt card. "Better watch out, I'm one card away from kicking your asses at this game!"

They went a couple more rounds before Scott ultimately won the game by playing the "Pumping out a baby every nine months." answer to the prompt "Cancel all my meetings. We've got a situation with _____ that requires my immediate attention."

Leaving the kitchen, they carried their drinks out into the living room and sank down into the overstuffed couches.

"Did you guys have any pets growing up?" Isabelle asked as she sat on the loveseat with Scott.

"No way," Scott replied with a laugh. "Mom had her hands full with us four. There was no way she'd let an animal in the house."

"Really? Because there were four of us and we had dogs, cats and a bunch of other animals too," Ellie replied. "Then again our dad was a Veterinarian."

"Yes, but you were all girls," Chris pointed out with a smile. "Way different than raising boys."

"I don't want to have any girls," Ellie stated with a shake of her head. "Too much drama. I only want to have boys."

"Really? You don't want to have a single girl?" Chris asked, turning to look at her. "Not one?"

"Nope." Ellie shook her head. "Especially after seeing the drama that followed my youngest sister Riley thanks to cell phones and social media."

"Seriously," Isabelle said, shaking her head. "When I was in high school the worst thing was not putting someone in the 'right spot' on your myspace top 8."

"You couldn't pay me to go back to high school," Scott stated. "No fucking way…"

They all murmured their agreement and took sips of their drinks.

"So back to the pet thing," Ellie said, a moment later. "Have you guys ever had pets?"

"It was the first thing I did when I got my own place," Chris replied with a smile. "An American Bulldog named East." His smile faltered a little. "Probably wasn't the best decision because I was so busy, but he was my best friend." His voice tapered off.

"We found out last fall that East had cancer," Scott continued for his brother. "And we had to let him go in January of this year."

"Saying goodbye to a pet is never easy," Ellie said, reaching over and putting her hand on Chris's forearm. "Especially when they're sick."

"It was the hardest decision of my life," Chris admitted. "But I knew it was the right one…" His voice trailed off and he brushed a tear from his face before letting out a forced chuckle. "Wow… I really know how to ruin a night, huh?"

"The night isn't ruined at all," Scott told his brother. "I mean, we all learned that Isabelle has a thing for assless chaps."

"My boyfriend grew up on a cattle ranch," Isabelle stated. "I've seen him in a pair of assless chaps and good god -" She let out a whoosh of breath. "- the only thing better than a cowboy wearing chaps and jeans is him wearing the chaps only."

"Ok, this conversation went weird fast," Ellie said, standing up. She wobbled slightly and Chris reached out to steady her. "Thanks."

"No more wine for you tonight," he told her.

"Yes, sir, captain, sir," she replied with a mock salute. "I'll just carry this stuff to the kitchen."

"I'll help," Isabelle offered. The two sisters quickly gathered their empty wine glasses and bottles and headed to the kitchen.

"I think I'm ready to go to bed," Ellie told her sister after she had hand washed the wine glasses. "You wanna sleep in the guest house with me?"

"Sure," Isabelle replied. "I'll go get my stuff. Should I shower upstairs or in your room?"

"It'll have to be in her room," Chris said as he came into the kitchen. "Scott just ran upstairs to take a shower." He covered his mouth as he yawned. "I just wanted to tell you I was heading upstairs and that I locked the front door."

"Alright, thanks," Ellie replied. "I'll lock the backdoor when we leave."

Chris nodded and then left the room.

"I'll go get my stuff," Isabelle told her sister.

Ellie finished cleaning up the kitchen while she waited and then, when Isabelle returned, led her sister out to the guest house.

"It's small," Isabelle said as she took in the studio-like room. "But I guess you spend most of your time in the main house."

"Exactly." Ellie nodded. "I'll let you shower first and then I'll take one."

Forty minutes later, the sisters were laying side-by-side in Ellie's bed.

"Did you have fun tonight?" Isabelle asked.

"Yes," Ellie assured her. "I'm actually kind of glad we didn't go dancing though. Those heels were already killing my feet when we got home. And I could barely breathe in that dress…"

A wicked grin spread across Isabelle's face and she said, "Chris liked watching you breathe in that dress."

Ellie rolled her eyes.

"I'm seriously, El!" Isabelle insisted. "He couldn't take his eyes off of you during dinner! And don't get me started on his reaction in his bedroom! The guy froze in the process of putting on his jacket!"

"We're just friends," Ellie told her sister. "He's used to seeing me in t-shirts and jean shorts. Of course he was surprised."

"He liked what he saw," Isabelle insisted. "I wish I had thought to take a picture of it."

"You've had too much to drink," Ellie told her sister. "We both have. We should go to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow."

"Spoil sport," Isabelle muttered as she settled into her pillow. "I know what I saw though, you caught Chris's attention."

Ellie ignored her sister and closed her eyes, effectively putting an end to their discussion.

The next morning, the sisters woke up shortly after nine and got dressed to go to the beach. They hit up the kitchen in the main house to pack the cooler with the food and drinks Ellie had purchased for their day at the beach.

They were just closing the lid of the cooler when Chris came into the room.

"Morning," he greeted sleepily. He took in their appearances; each sister was wearing a pair of cut off jean shorts and a tank top with colorful straps showing on their shoulders. "Off to the beach?"

"Yup," Ellie replied. "I made a pot of coffee and there is stuff for sandwiches in the fridge if you get hungry."

"Thanks, you're the best," Chris told her.

Ellie smiled at Chris and ignored the nudge that Isabelle gave her.

"Well, we are off," she said. "We will likely be gone most of the day. I was thinking we'd do hamburgers or something here tonight."

"Got it," Chris said with a nod. "Have fun."

The sisters carried the small cooler out to Ellie's car and then headed south to the beach community their aunt and uncle lived in. They parked their car in the driveway of their relatives' house and then walked the couple blocks to the beach.

Given that it was a Saturday in the middle of July, the beach was busy, but it didn't take them long to find the beach volleyball court that their aunt, uncle and their friends had situated themselves by. After many hellos, the sisters put their stuff down and laid out in the sun, soaking in the rays for a bit before being convinced to join a beach volleyball game.

They hung out at the beach until the early afternoon before they said their goodbyes and made their way back to the car. Instead of heading back to Chris's house immediately, they ventured into the Venice Beach area and spent a couple hours checking out the different vendors.

It was after six in the evening when they finally got back to the house. Ellie went to her guest house to shower while Isabelle went upstairs to shower in the guest bathroom.

After showering and getting dressed, Ellie went back into the main house to get dinner ready, but stopped when she saw Chris standing in front of the barbeque flipping the burgers over.

"Scott and I are taking care of dinner," he told her. "You've been feeding us all summer."

"Thanks," Ellie replied with a smile. She went into the house and cringed slightly when she saw the state of her kitchen.

Scott caught her expression from the other side of the large kitchen island and said, "We'll clean up, promise." He then walked over to the fridge and grabbed out a bottle of beer. "Drink this. It will take the edge off the fact that we've destroyed your kitchen."

Dinner was just about ready when Isabelle arrived in the kitchen and took the beer Scott offered her. The sisters then made their way outside and sat down at the outdoor table to wait for the guys to bring dinner to the table.

Ten minutes later, the four of them were eating and Ellie was impressed with the brothers' cooking abilities.

"I might let you two cook for me more often," she told him.

"Please don't," Scott replied. "Our cooking skills are very limited."

"All the more reason for you to practice," Ellie said with a smile.

After they ate, Ellie and Isabelle helped the brothers clean up the kitchen and then all four of them retired to the basement to watch a movie. The girls took their seats on one of the couches while the two brothers argued over what movie to watch. It took them nearly ten minutes to agree on 'Stepbrothers'.

The four of them laughed along with the movie with one or two of them occasionally quoting a scene along with the characters on the TV.

It was nearly midnight when the movie ended and they all retired to their own rooms to go to sleep.

The next morning, Ellie got up earlier than normal and made breakfast for herself and Isabelle, knowing her sister had to catch an early flight back to San Francisco.

When Isabelle arrived in the kitchen, the sisters ate quickly and then said goodbye when the Uber Isabelle had ordered got to the house.

Ellie was in the kitchen cleaning when Chris came in about thirty minutes later.

"Isabelle get off ok?" he asked her.

"Yup." Ellie nodded with a sad smile. "Is it weird that I already miss her?"

"Nah, you guys are obviously close," Chris stated. "I miss Scott when he isn't around."

"It's because you love me," Scott announced as he came into the room. "Do I smell bacon?"

"Isabelle and I ate it," Ellie replied. "But you're welcome to make yourself some. There is more in the fridge."

Scott frowned as he looked at the fridge. "I think I'll just stop at Starbucks on my way home," he said. He made his way around the island and gave Ellie a hug. "This weekend was fun. I love your sister."

"I'm pretty sure she loves you, too," Ellie said with a laugh as she hugged him back. "Thanks for helping me celebrate my birthday."

"Just think of how epic we could have made it if you hadn't waited until last weekend to tell us," Scott stated as they ended their hug. "Ok, I need to go home, do some laundry and then learn my lines for tomorrow. See you kids later."

A couple minutes later, they felt the house rattle as Scott slammed the door closed as he left.

Ellie shook her head while Chris rolled his eyes.

"Speaking of your birthday," Chris said, a moment later. "I haven't gotten you anything, what do you want?"

Ellie froze in the process of cleaning the counter and turned to look at him. "Chris, you don't have to buy me anything for my birthday," she said. "You and your mom have done more for me in the last six months than I can thank you guys for."

"That doesn't mean you don't deserve a birthday present," Chris countered. "Everyone deserves birthday presents."

"You're not going to drop this are you?" Ellie sighed.

"Nope," Chris replied. "And I'm sure you've learned by now that I can be pretty stubborn."

"Fine," Ellie said. "For my birthday, I'd like you to consider allowing me to get a dog."

"You want a dog?" Chris asked, surprised.

"Yeah, it's a bit lonely here when I'm by myself," Ellie replied. "This house is really big when you're alone."

"It is," Chris said with a nod. "Alright, I'll give you one better. Not only will I give you permission to get a dog, but we'll go look for one today!"

"Wait, what?" Ellie looked at Chris in surprise. "Look for a dog today?" He nodded. "Are you sure, though? I don't need one today, just before you head back east or to film."

As the word 'east' left her mouth, her mind instantly went to Chris's late dog. "Chris, are you sure you're ready for this?" she asked.

"I'm sure, Ellie," Chris stated. "Besides, I'm not ready to have another dog, but that's the beauty of the dog being yours. I get to play with it and hang out with it, but you're the one that has to scoop the poop out of the backyard."

Ellie shook her head and laughed.

"So, are you game for going to look for a dog?" Chris asked.

"Sure, why not," Ellie replied. "I don't have anything else to do today."

"Awesome!" Chris exclaimed. "Ok, I'm going to go upstairs and grab some shoes and then I'll be ready to go."

"Sounds good," Ellie replied.

Chris tossed her a smile and then raced out of the room, sliding across the hardwood floor in his socks.

Seconds later there was a thud in hallway and he called out, "I'm good."

Ellie shook her head and made her way out to the guest house to grab her purse.

An hour later, Chris pulled into the parking lot of a no kill shelter he had volunteered at over the years. Leading Ellie inside, he was greeted by name by the owner of the establishment who personally volunteered to take them around the place.

The owner took a few minutes to get an idea of the type of dog Ellie was looking for. Then she took Ellie and Chris out to meet a few dogs that she thought best matched what Ellie was looking for.

The first couple dogs the owner introduced them to didn't do anything for Ellie or Chris. They were both sweet dogs, but the first one didn't like loud noises and the second one was timid around Chris.

As they were making their way to the next dog, Ellie spotted a brown and white bulldog peeking at them through a "doggie window" in one of the doggie playrooms. Kneeling down, she smiled at the dog and the dog smiled back with its tongue hanging to the side.

"Can we meet that one?" Chris asked the owner.

"Absolutely," the owner replied. She let them into the playroom and the bulldog raced over to them.

Kneeling down, Ellie let the dog smell her hand and the dog melted into her. Giggling, she looked up at Chris. "What do you think?" she asked.

Chris knelt down next to her and the bulldog shifted its eyes to him. It studied Chris for a moment before coming over to investigate him. It sniffed his hand and then tilted its head to the side to get a scratch from Chris.

"I think this is the one," Chris said.

"Well then, let me officially introduce you to Daisy, she is an English Bulldog," the owner said with a smile.

"Daisy like Daisy Duck," Chris said with a smile. "Perfect."

"Absolutely perfect," Ellie agreed. "We'll take her." Turning her attention to Daisy she asked, "Do you want to come home with us, Daisy girl?"

Daisy gave a happy bark and gave her a tongue out smile.

Episode 5.5

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[architectuul]

Human Architecture Needs A Dissident Instinct

“In every civilized community, Architecture has always been the most powerful sociological, cultural and historical cohesive factor; Architecture is the indispensable amalgam of the common life of diverse human beings.”  Ljiljana Bakić

Pionir Sports Hall in Belgrade. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

Ljubica Slavković and Iva Čukić planned this interview questioning the meaning of the exhibition Toward a Concrete Utopia: Architecture in Yugoslavia, 1948–1980 in MoMA.  The talk with Dragoljub Bakić presents a story of love, devotion and architecture of the inseparable Yugoslav architectural tandem Dragoljub and Ljiljana Bakić. 

Dragoljub Bakić, Ljubica Slavković and Iva Čukić in a garden in the Višnjička Banja neighborhood in Belgrade.

HOUSING SETTLEMENTS 

Before meeting Dragoljub we have passed through the settlement that the couple designed. After reaching the beautiful house in a row with a garden and a view over the Danube river, we were completely blinded of all this beauty.

DB: It is interesting how there is now a curiosity in what we did in the era of socialism. This discovery started with Rem Koolhaas, who saw what Energoprojekt built in Lagos, Nigeria. During the time of socialist Yugoslavia, we did not have an Iron Curtain like the other Eastern European countries. What is obvious is that we had other types of restrictions that did not allow to be discovered what was happening here. We were signed off as an eastern block, at least as far as the West was concerned. 

Our architecture developed through cooperation with each other and also under the Balkan Association of Architects. Good architecture was made here. I think that we developed a great part of the Modern and Post-Modern architecture.

Plan for the residential area Višnjička Banja. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

During the period of Yugoslavia, a lot of apartments were built; housing construction was higher than it was in the West. Especially, because we had a political project with the idea of the right to an apartment. It was under a certain level of control with specific criteria and sizes of flats. In the socialist system the needs of people were somehow equalized. Both a faculty professor and a worker received the same square footage, although the first one needed a library and the other a big kitchen, but it was all averaged.

Višnjička Banja housing in the 1980s. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

When the time for designing Višnjička Banja came, the residential area where we have lived for the past 35 years, we had very strict conditions. However, we were protected by the General Plan of Belgrade (GUP) from 1972. Urban laws were well respected in the time of socialism and could not be changed as today how any one likes. Nobody respects anything today. Višnjička Banja was supposed to be another Dedinje, a fine living area where Belgrade will give vent to large conglomerates such as New Belgrade. The predicted density was 90 inhabitants per hectare. Such density created a garden settlement and the plan foresaw individual houses and villas in set in greenery.

Housing in greenery at Višnjička Banja. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

But still, besides the individual houses, the settlement has also multi-dwelling units?

DB: The changes that followed and the transition to socially oriented housing construction led to designing for the housing needs of the workers from different companies in the municipality. We proposed a system of low-rise houses to preserve the natural environment and take advantage of the space. Instead of making a multistory building we laid the building down. We argued for more square meters than planned, because it only made sense with the proposed density, and we designed the apartments with the impression of individual houses. They all have terraces with a view of the Danube and open spaces next to the kitchen. We were thrilled when we first came here as everything was completely bare; nobody wanted to build because of the exposition to the Košava wind. Today the location is completely different as pine and cedar trees planted by residents thrive well. I planted the pine tree next to you 35 years ago and there was another one, which I had to cut because it was too close to the house. These pines and cedar trees have completely changed the microclimate, and Košava now skips the site.

The whole settlement of Višnjička Banja looks out to the Danube, instead of facing the sun and south creating transversal cross ventilation and visions in all apartments. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

You have lived here since the construction period and the moving into the settlement. How have things changed here over the past 35 years?

DB:  The settlement consists of buildings in a row, high buildings with apartments for workers of the company, and houses in rows that were on the market through one of the then five large-scale housing cooperatives. A very interesting social layer has moved in here - at least 15 architects from Energoprojekt, directors, actors, writers, chess players. We hung out together back then as we still do today. We gather almost every week, for a hot brandy at my place, or we meet at his house, her yard, we live together in the settlement. We believe that this way of living has contributed to bringing people closer. The neighborhood relations were developed because of the low density of the urbanism. We consciously designed them in the form of a horseshoe, so each building has its own yard, a sloping terrain with children’s playgrounds or benches. Where neighbors can meet, now I can see that someone has planted some flowers.  

In Višnjička Banja’s neighborhood a Scandinavian architectural atmosphere was implemented. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

The neighborhood spirit has been developed. The measure of success for an architect is the measure of client and investor satisfaction, and in general, that is the essence of our call. In these 35 years 50% of the population structure has changed, many have died; a lot of families sold their houses and left because of the war at the beginning of the 1990s. Initially, there were no fences here but people began to encircle their houses because of pets. The new tenants are not interested in socializing, or even greeting. Our new neighbor has put up a metal fence and grids on all his windows. You’ll see this on many homes. An interesting sociological phenomenon is going on and it also speaks about the sociological structure of society; what we have become, who we are, and against whom we fight.

Architects have social coordinates, and the society and its development determine the coordinates in which you create as an architect. But also, as an architect, you create a society. And that is not easy. You said that at the time of designing Višnjička Banja, you were protected by the GUP, but the execution and settling in the early 80’s were significantly hampered. Why?

DB: What we went through with the Višnjička Banja project. We moved into the house in 1983-84. When those in positions of power realized what was built here, they accused us of destroying the socialist morality. All audits passed here, we got all the permits, but as architects, we were branded.  It turned out that Višnjička Banja became a new Dedinje, a fancy living area, but there were no people in position here. Only us citizens. And our keys were confiscated, it was a big affair. When the settlement was built and we moved in, we become victims of a great affair, to the extent that we were expelled from Energoprojekt.

The project of Višnjička Banja was accepted by the city and municipal authorities and was known as quality living made with cheap but quality brick and tiles produced by Energorpojekt. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

At the beginning of the 1980s, Energoprojekt pulled all its forces towards a huge project in Iraq. Only the guards were left here, and construction completely stopped even though people had already paid their homes in advance. Years passed, things changed, the dollar and dinars ratio changed, the money was gone, but the houses were unfinished. At that time, we were working on a project in Harare. When we finished our project in Harare, we were invited to return to Belgrade. The contractors asked us then to increase the square footage in the whole settlement so the people who had already paid for their houses would have to pay more. Of course, breaking the architectural ethics was not an option; we refused to do such a thing. All of a sudden, they declared us enemies to Energoprojekt. What we passed through was recorded by a bunch of newspaper articles. Fortunately, there were also honest people, both among the judges and colleagues, so in October 1984 we returned back to the company.

But what happened with the tenants of Višnjička Banja and the demands to pay more money for the houses? How did people move in here?

DB: By June 1983, after Energoprojekt confiscated the keys and asked for large surcharges, the tenants made a decision. The first 110 of them made a line with their cars on the Slanački road in the early morning at 6am. They all burst into the village, broke doors, changed locks, and moved into their homes. They saved us our key, as we were in Harare at the time, and when we came, they gave it to us. Our door was the only one, which was not ruined. That’s how people moved in here.

And this is how the community spirit emerged even before settling in the area. I believe that is because all of your work is done with a strong sense of building a more humane society through, or with architecture.  

AGAINST CLICHES

All your creativity is permeated with a strong awareness of the ultimate user and the impact of architecture on the lives of people, as well as a struggle through architecture for a more humane society. That is what Mrs. Bakić perfectly illustrated in her book, “Anatomy of B & B Architecture”, while presenting your design principles.

DB: We always had a dissident instinct against every kind of dictatorship and ruling clichés and we were constantly struggling. In the Nova Galenika settlement, which we designed in 1976, we were first to introduce slanted roofing. We had big clashes, for example with the president of the Zemun municipality. We had to reiterate that this roof is cheaper than a flat slab, which at the time had to have 17 layers in order to not leak. And would always later crack and leak water. But we manage to do it even so that after Nova Galenika, a new regulation was made that flat roof terraces had to have slanted roofs.

Drawing for the Nova Galenika settlement (1976). | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

The basis of Nova Galenika was the natural asymmetric scattering of the solitaire in the vertical sense, connecting the solitaires with their horizontal openness into organic groups. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

Your design principles and creative expression are highly inspired by the architecture of Scandinavia, by the relationship with nature, local materials and the quality of space. We see that in the settlement of Višnjička Banja, and in Galenika, but also through your entire relationship to space and materials.

DB: A great impact was the year 1970, which we spent in Finland, in Alvar Aalto’s Bureau. This was possible because of Energoprojekt. And it was a beautiful bureau in Helsinki. We showed them what we had done in Kuwait and they loved the slides and were interested in cooperation. 

Collective Housing in Kuwait (1966) by Ljiljana Bakić and the office Said Breik & Marwan Kalo. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

There, they lived in row houses, and we were so enthralled by this spirit that we disregarded the latitude and longitude, we wanted to pass something of this spirit in architecture to Belgrade. We were deeply convinced, almost obsessed, that the projected environment could raise the level of living awareness and change people’s habits. But it turned out that in addition to geography, a little spirit on this subject was also needed. Višnjička Banja has shown that it was the correct way of living, very human with the socialization of neighbors, but afterwards it did not cast roots. In a whole series that could have followed this, people began building huge weekend houses.

Why Aalto, how did you even reach Finland in the 60s of the last century from Belgrade?

DB: Because we had a great professor, the architect Nikola Dobrović. He used to put on a bow tie and a black suit when he was teaching about Wright. A great influence on us had also the Hansaviertel in Berlin, where the ruins after the bombing were cleaned and where Oscar Niemeyer, Alvar Aalto, top leading architects of that period were engaged. We studied this cases because we could learn from their housing construction.

Ljiljana and Dragoljub Bakić at the opening of the Pionir Sports Hall in Belgrade, 1973. | Photo via CAB

In Yugoslavia we stepped out of many frames, which was possible because of the Non-aligned Movement. In the world we were recognized and evaluated in such a way. At one point Energoprojekt worked in 45 countries and it was at the very top of the construction companies in the world. The West knew about Tito and knew us through Tito, but they did not know us through architecture.

One of your cult projects and facilities, at least in Belgrade's life, is the Pionir Sports Hall.

DB: The design and performance of the Pionir Sports Hall was very interesting. The mayor Branko Pešić was a boxer and he wanted to organize the European Boxing Championship of '73 in Belgrade. As Belgrade didn’t have a sports hall at that time the building began in that year. The 25 May Sports Center by Ivo Antić was built. While Antić’s parallel piped roof was constructed we designed and built the entire Pionir. In nine and a half months we did both the project and the construction, and we could not do it differently than to make it prefabricated. We had a group of genius construction engineers in Energoprojekt.

For the Pionir building 90% of the structure was done on the ground and then raised. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

A year before the championship, seven large construction companies were invited to present their conceptual design and construction cost. We had about seven days to come up with the project, cost and time of construction. But then, we were also 32 years old, youth-crazy and as we say, could do anything. Energoprojekt got the job, and we got going. It was done so quickly, and the hall became a cult place for Belgrade sports.

Floor plan for the Pionir Hall. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

The task was that the hall should also serve for hockey, which means a fence that in turn led to steeper seating. Much later, a separate Ice Hall was created, which we consider to be our best project. But Pionir’s stands remained unusually steep, which made it a true home for fans.  All of our clubs like to play there, the viewers, supporters, inspire them. They are their sixth player, with steep seating like that; they are almost with the players in the field! And those construction beams are five centimeters thick. The Energoprojekt’s construction engineer Vlada Vračarić was a total genius.

The Ice Hall. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

Why do you consider the Ice Hall as your best project?

DB: First of all, we consider it to be best fitted in its surroundings. We took off one side of the seating stands because we came to the very street. We did not have room for a two-sided auditorium, and this one-sidedness gave it character. But that roof, that used to be blue, and the way it fit in the environment, that is our cult image.

The cult image of the Ice Hall. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

TEAM WORK, HOME AND ABROAD 

The Pionir Hall is Ljiljana’s and your first jointly done building, and many more followed.

DB: We have been working as a team for 40 years. We saw that in Finland - many teams had two or three members, and often there were teams of architects that were spouses. We met a lot of them, great Finland architects that were spouses who worked as teams. With time and experience, you start to think similarly, you begin to synchronize. Of course, you do not argue a lot. Well, we argued a lot, but I always gave in. We were lucky to work a lot abroad. There were a lot of projects that were not constructed, and that’s a shame.

Spouse’s sensitivity established over the years creates understanding of each other’s work. | Photo by Rade Kovač

If you seriously treat the importance of given conditions and conditionality, if you establish a certain level of ethics, of your calling, if you treat with equal importance both the outside and inside, and the facade is not the only importance to you, it was always important to us and what is inside and the relationship towards the surroundings, then it all becomes very natural. Some things you do not have to always start over, they are known. Ljiljana was a well-known mathematician at school, she easily drafted and did everything else, and so was I. But I think that the first violin was always Ljiljana.

We do have our own individual projects, we didn’t always work together. Then came the time when I had to deal more with organization, management, especially in Harare. Ljiljana was more burdened with designing, and me chasing after clients, getting payments, getting work.

You’ve done a lot of projects, but there are a lot of those who just stayed on paper. Which one do you particularly regret not being made?

DB: It would be a project in South Africa, for the central eight blocks in Cape Town. We consider it the most interesting of our projects. Of course, our best projects are our two daughters, but we are now talking within the framework of Energoprojekt. Cape Town is best known for its diamonds, so we designed eight huge city blocks symbolically as diamonds. It was a very interesting project, but in the end it all depends on who you have as an investor.

The model for the Cape Town project. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

It happened suddenly, a person from Cape Town appeared at Energoprojekt with a question: “I have a program, can you do a project?” The general director of Energoprojekt noticed his tattered sweater and repaired shoe, therefore he said that this guy might not be serious. I replied that we shall work on such an interesting program. It turned out that the director was right. Both project we created with Ljiljana were well accepted by the city administration and also presented via articles in the newspapers as a symbol of Cape Town, such as the Opera in Sydney.

Plans for the Cape Town project. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

However, in the early 1990s a change in power occurred in the South African Republic. It turned out that the person offering us work was a former mercenary who was killing black people. The project was stopped. However, I had hope that with Cape Town’s local administration we could continue the project in a different way but in the meantime we moved with Ljiljana to Zimbabwe to run the Energoprojekt burro there.

Never constructed eight city blocks in Cape Town, The Republic of South Africa (1993). | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

The former mercenary somehow found us in Zimbabwe as he found out that I have a connection with the main architect of the Cape Town municipality. He admitted to me that he killed people and that if I will make another trip to Cape Town for this project he would do the same to me. Ljiljana would not hear of us stopping to do it, she was so in love with this project, she accused me being a coward. In the end, we dropped that project and that left us with regret. Afterwards Cape Town started to develop as any other city. We consider this to be our biggest project that was not constructed.

ENERGOPROJEKT 

You have spent your lifetime in Energoprojekt, in Belgrade and around the world. How did it all begin?

DB: Energoprojekt took college students. Professor Boža Petrović suggested to Energoprojekt to hire me and Ljiljana. The famous Milica Šterić immediately accepted me as a man, but she did not want to hire women architects at all. It was in 1963 and I was 24 years old. I got then into Energoprojekt and stayed there until my retirement. A few years later, when we were supposed to work on a competition for a spa in Igalo, I proposed to Milica that Ljiljana join us. When she saw how Ljiljana thinks and works, she made an exception and employed a female architect.

Ljiljana Bakić at TIM 10 architecture and urbanism Energoprojekt. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

Milica Šterić was extremely important for our architectural environment, as the director of Energoprojekt, as an architect, as an author. And she was progressive with her ideas. How come such attitude towards women?

DB: I don’t know why she only worked with men. She was a miracle of a woman, but something of that composition that was then in Energoprojekt irritated her, and she decided that she would no longer accept women. She changed her decision when she met Ljiljana, but she remained an exception. Though we had very many women technicians, who were very important to us in our work. We had top-notch technicians who you really only lead through the main idea, and they solve the rest. And back then, we drew every detail, gutters, and canopies.

Milica Šterić with her team at Energoprojekt. | Photo via Žene u arhitekturi

On the other hand, we can also say that Šterić played an enormous role in the development of our architectural profession, that is, the development of the author’s creativity and the quality that has arisen from it?

DB: Yes. At one point, Milica Šterić decided to withdraw from Energoprojekt, which was concerned more with energy, hydro power plants, dams, industries, heating plants, etc. When Milica formed a team with Zoran Bojović, Ljiljana and me in the early seventies, she decided to separate from Energoprojekt. We created a special design office, subdivided it into bureaus. Ljiljana and I were running a bureau of 7 in total, and we were called Atelier 5. Everyone had their own investors and salaries. We were particularly chasing business, acquiring investors, and it remained so till the end.

We are talking about the time of socialism, and you are talking about a market game and individuality. How’s that now?

DB: It was not customary for such a large social enterprise to individualize itself to that extent. Energoprojekt was special, it had 5,500 engineers and a workers’ council. Neither I nor Ljiljana were ever members of the party, and our whole life we did what we wanted, so nobody interfered with us. That is something that is not possible here today. 

All this was largely due to Milica Šterić. The freedom that we had, the great confidence that she had in us young people. She developed herself by spending a good period of time working with Jaap Bakema in the Netherlands. In our country, she was the first to make a bearing glass facade, which is no longer present, and it was done with the most common ethermitte in the parapet. Very simple and cheap. She received the 7th of July Award for that house. She was an extraordinary personality, infinitely unselfish, in love with architecture at the cost of her private life. And also a great partisan. She kept our backs, of course, but the party did not meddle in what should be professional - unlike today.

Milica Šterić (1984). | Photo from the SAS catalogue “Nagrada arhitekture Srbije”

Yes, Milica played a big part. But there was also a system; our possibilities were unbelievable in relation to yours. We lived completely in a different time, with other conditions, opportunities, and career developments. What is happening today is horrible.

It is very interesting that thanks to Milica within a huge social enterprise we could sign as authors. It could not happen everywhere. Energoprojekt nurtured it; we struggled to be able to sign as authors. In smaller offices the directors were always the signatories of the projects. It was only in Energoprojekt that the architects themselves were signed as authors and this was a great achievement that we had won.

Your careers started in Kuwait and ended in Zimbabwe?

DB: We were very young when we went to Kuwait. With 25 years old this was a good period in our lives. This was the only time when Ljiljana and I work separately; me in Energoprojekt’s office and Ljiljana in the private office of construction engineers Sait Breik and Marwan Kalo. In order to get employed there she needed a special permit from Energoprojekt because it was a competition firm. At that time Yugoslavia was an exemplary ordered country. Especially in Kuwait, Ljiljana did a lot of projects because their office was then one of the busiest.

They begged us to stay there, but loyalty to Energoprojekt and our professor who employed us there were greater. We returned in 1966, and on that occasion we visited in detail almost all the Arab countries. In my opinion, study tours for architects have greater value than the study of architecture itself.

Headquarters of the Government of Zambia and the UNI Party1, Lusaka, Zambia, 1968-69. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

Our daughter Olga was born in 1967 and Biljana one year later. For Ljiljana and me our family was a sanctuary above everything else, therefore Ljiljana cut her career and spent the next four years devoting her attention to the education of our children. This proved to be very good because they have become more successful than their parents. We are proud of them as well as of our wonderful and serious sons in laws, Radovan and David. Our five grandchildren - Katarina (16), Julia (13), Jan Gabriel (12), Luk Daniel (10) and Klara Rose (8) are a real miracle. They live in New York and Warsaw, and they are growing so far away from us that with the years passing, it’s getting harder to meet them.

You were going back and forth, Yugoslavia, Middle East, Africa?

DB: We lived in Zimbabwe on two occasions in 1982/83 and in 1994/2001. During our first stay, we worked on the Congress Center with the Sheraton Hotel, which we received through an international competition. The project was published in detail in Anthony Krafft’s edition “The Contemporary Architecture of the World - 1987/88” in Lausanne, Switzerland.

Sheraton Harare Hotel is located next to the International Conference Centre in the capital city of Zimbabwe. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

During the second stay in Harare, we managed two Energoprojekt design offices Desicon and Bakić Architects. The second one was registered in our names because we had to get a RIBA license, but in practice we gave it to Energoprojekt. Bakić Architects has done and implemented dozens of projects mainly working for various ministries of the Government of Zimbabwe, and has received high recognition from the United Nations, which included it in its special list of 20 designer boutiques firms (up to 50 employees) around the world.

Headquarters of the Government of Zambia (model). | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

Out of our 40 years of intense architectural practice, we worked more than 10 years abroad. We worked very hard as very often we brought our work home from the office and continued solving the architecture. We’ve been in such a way for nearly 60 years.

THE ANATOMY OF LIFE

You participated in many World Congresses of the International Architects Union - UIA, which has its headquarters in Paris. Which one do you particularly emphasize?

DB: Those encounters with numerous architects from all over the world meant a lot to us. UIA congresses became very popular and gathered thousands of architects. The ones in Madrid in 1975 and in Montreal in 1990 were special. Particularly important for us was the one held in Chicago in 1993, where Ljiljana had her report especially praised by the President of the UIA - Greek architect Vasilis Zgutas, as well as the one held in Barcelona in 1996, when our Olga had her report immediately after the completed master’s study at Cornell University in America.

Dragoljub and Ljiljana with their daughters Biljana and Olga. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

In Chicago, we officially represented our country’s delegation to the Congress, and it was only Ljiljana, because they did not allow me to enter the United States because of the international sanctions. However, I had a decent substitute, because our younger daughter Biljana accompanied her. She had already settled in America that year and started her trip towards a triple magistrate and graduation at Harvard.

In Barcelona, we were again official representatives as the delegation of Zimbabwe and as Vasilis Zgutas commented - that we are indestructible - we lose one country and we quickly find another one. Barcelona was and is now a soft spot for architects. It is one of the most successfully urbanized cities of the world, especially architecturally enriched after 1992 when the Olympic Games were held there.

What else did you do besides the architectural practice and design?

DB: Our profession has a lot of charms. It is welcome in many human activities in the field of culture, but also in real life as well. It directly affects the lives of people and makes them richer and more beautiful, and people are often are not aware of it. The greater the awareness about architecture itself, the more the business is respected in society.  And vice versa.

Unfortunately in the last 30 years, all human values have been turned upside down here, and our profession, like many others, passes heavy days at the very margin of society. We remember something different and we are happy to remember that.

Ljiljana’s book “Anatomy of B & B Architecture” was awarded Ranko Radović Award (2012) in Serbia for the critical theoretical texts on architecture.

Ljiljana was the one who always wrote well, so she continued writing alongside her architectural practice, which is not often the case with architects. She seriously dealt with the philosophy of architecture, the theory of architecture and architectural criticism, and was very appreciated especially by the professional public. She has written dozens of texts, not just about architecture and urbanism, but also about the socio-political, sociological, and cultural environment in which we lived and worked. Many are represented in the book published in 2012 Anatomy of B & B Architecture.

Together we were also very active when it came to exhibitions of architecture and design. I was more active in the Association of the architects of Yugoslavia and Serbia, where I was the president of the Court of Honor for 20 years. We were very much concerned with the profession and it would happen that we deny membership in our Association to those who break the Moral Code of our architectural practice.

What the city administrations has in the meantime made of Belgrade, especially with the wild construction and investor urbanism, it would be difficult to qualify it today even for some Rural Sports Games.

You have received a lot of professional acknowledgments and rewards during your working life. Which ones are especially important for you?

DB: What I consider to be the biggest prize is the acknowledgment Ljiljana received in 2016, when selected to be among the 100 best and most important architects and designers of Europe for the period from 1918 to 2018. The MoMoWo- Modern Movement Women project is dedicated to the accomplishments of architects and designers throughout Europe and the year 1973 was dedicated to Ljiljana for the project of the Pionir Sports Hall.

What are you doing today?

DB: Both Ljiljana and I have entered our 80th year of life. Ljiljana continues to extensively write, this time her second book based on extensive journals that she diligently led during all of our turbulent and transitional years. We, who were born in the Kingdom of Yugoslavia, have changed five countries. From a large, populous and coastal country we learned to love, we now have a small continental one that continues to dwindle with both territory and population and for which we still do not know the boundaries and which we still cannot manage to make it resemble a real and normal state.

Again, according to the principle I have been holding on to for a long time - Carpe diem - I am trying to make, in a creative way, various things and entertainment in our yard for the short time during the summer when our grandchildren visit us. I work a lot in the garden, which I find inspiring and on a hill, from which the view of the Danube is beautiful. We are only five kilometers from the city center and yet we live in complete nature with a multitude of birds and animals.

Ljiljana and Dragoljub Bakič at the MoMoWo exhibition in Belgrade (2018). | Photo by Rade Kovač 

As Ljiljana continues to deal only with her writing, I had to take over the kitchen and in the everyday cooking I discover great creative possibilities and in time it has also become a hobby.

You are still very strong and active in the public sphere, and persistent in fighting for the future of Belgrade, and not only in terms of architecture.

DB: I am engaged with a bit of professional and civic activism, because I think that citizens should not hide their heads in the sand, but if they are educated then it is their duty to express their views when needed. I am trying to give my contribution to the fight against the uncaring and the unqualified city government that demonstrates its power by deploying real Urbicid in the systematic and daily destruction of the country’s Capitol. Unfortunately, they are successful because our profession, preoccupied by bare survival, absolutely provides no resistance.

Do you think that there is something that should be explicitly explained which might then be the conclusion for this story?

DB: It bothers me that as the prevailing impression remains that thousands of flowers flourished in all those past times. And that was not the case at all. This, our very own Orwell, which we experienced in 1984, was made by powerful local politicians within one of the only existing political parties, to hide and draw away public attention from the just discovered  malpractices’ of private purchases of  apartments in downtown.  In this, they were ardently supported by a group of our colleagues from Energoprojekt, a group of unappreciated architects, who were blinded by great envy. They could not forgive me and Ljiljana for the huge success we achieved with the project of the Congress Center in Zimbabwe and the very fact that we personally brought this business to Energoprojekt.

Male and female architects at work in the Department of Architecture and Urbanism at the headquarters of a major construction firm Energoprojekt in Belgrade. | Photo Courtesy Energoprojekt Archive

The whole world was opening for us. Suddenly, we stood out. We had to be cut. And that’s what happened. We were stopped in our 45th years of life, at the very peak of our careers when we were able to give the most.

All this happened in the second half of the 1980s, in the era of social ownership and the rule of a political party. Today there is private property, bared liberal capitalism and again the rule of one political party. Everything could be reasoned with if there were real institutions and the rule of law. In our 80 years of life, we have not managed to experience this wonder which is called the Rule of Law.

In those 80 years a lot has changed, but even with Yugoslavia – we cannot speak of it as a uniform entity, neither in time nor in space.

DB: Of course, in the era of socialism there were great differences, compare let’s say Serbia and Slovenia. For example, we could not even dream of having private offices, nor did any architect dream of having a private house. It would be normal for you as an architect to first try your experience on your own home - why not buy it and do it. I would say that as a condition: first you have to make a project for your house, and then for others. This was massive in Slovenia, for us, all that time they were the complete West. Slovenian architects really started with their homes, there was no architect there who did not designed his own house.

But then, in the end, you live in the house you have designed!

DB: Of course, that was one of our tricks.

Dragoljub Bakić at his home. | Courtesy of Dragoljub Bakić

---

With Dragoljub Bakić were talking Ljubica Slavković and Iva Čukić

[parkapetrs]

nothing personal ✎ tom holland

summary: two years ago, before harrison osterfield, there was you.

a rising name in the film industry, he was ready to leave behind the life of a personal assistant to focus on his career—but not without a last-minute replacement.

although the bond between ex-bosses and bitter ex-assistants should never be rekindled, theory is always better than practice.

a story about exotic lunches, foreign candies, a severely overworked PA, and one pain in the ass named tom holland.

/ moodboard by yours truly

i. an offer

words: 1.6k warnings: language

I was a known strategist—I looked into the future and what I saw, I interpreted in terms of opportunities for growth and progress. 

And yet to some, I was a neurotic. 

To each their own. 

Irrespective of whatever people wanted to call it, it all boiled down to one important thing: I always had a plan. 

So when I knocked on Harrison’s door but came face-to-face with one Tom Holland, I was taken aback and, quite frankly, fairly annoyed that I had come up with nothing. 

But I, of course, wasn’t one for backing down when it came to ex-bosses.

Seeming unperturbed, I marched my way inside the flat, all the while ignoring the voice in my head screaming at me to get out.  

What the hell was I doing? 

“What the hell are you doing?” asked Tom. He was still standing at the door, seemingly frozen in time, but curiously staring at me as I casually rummaged through Harrison’s pantry. 

“What the hell are you doing?” I spat back whilst pulling ingredients from left and right. “You’re not even supposed to be here until next week. So be quiet; I’m trying to make a smoothie.” 

The words sounded strange and unfamiliar as they tumbled out of my mouth. Sass didn’t suit me and I was painfully aware of it, but so did not having a plan. 

Desperate times called for desperate measures. 

The door clicked shut behind Tom. Like a sleuth, he moved across the marble countertop where I was working up a storm, and rested his hands on either side of him as he observed me intently. 

“Been keeping track?” he smirked, his tone arrogant yet teasing. 

I hate to admit it, but Tom Holland possessed a kind of charm to him. As big of an ignoramus he turned out to be, that much he knew. Oftentimes, he used his wit and personality to his advantage—he’d won countless women over with one glance, and gotten free upgrades on flights with a simple smile. 

Fortunately, I’ve built up an immunity to his charisma from working with him in the past. The kind of job I used to have—working in such close proximity to him—was enough to desensitize me from his cruel, borderline-manipulative tendencies. 

I definitely did not miss playing personal assistant to Mr. Holland. 

“I only knew that—“ The blender whirred loudly as it homogenized the strawberries, bananas, ice, and milk before I brought it to a stop. “—because of Harrison. Don’t flatter yourself.” 

“I’m disappointed, Y/N.” Tom pouted, feigning hurt. “I arrived last week. Thought I’d surprise you.” 

Looking around, I saw huge luggages carelessly strewn across the wooden floorboards. I grimaced at the realization that true to Tom Holland nature, he hadn’t even bothered to unpack. 

“Truly, I’m surprised,” I replied, training my voice to sound bored. I grabbed a glass into which I transferred the blender’s contents. Because there was more than enough for one, and because of the sheer goodness of my heart, I asked Tom if he would like a smoothie. 

Of course the glutton would like a smoothie. 

“Actually, I’m good,” he said. “Thanks, though.” 

Huh. 

“I’d like a smoothie,” came Harrison Osterfield’s voice as he sauntered into the living room. A shit-eating grin was plastered on his face, and it was getting increasingly difficult not to slap off. “Hi Y/N. Thanks for coming.” 

Somehow, seeing his elaborately coiffed hair set something off inside me. How can he act so exuberant while the rest of us (read: me) were left to our own devices to deal with the insufferable (read: Tom)? I could feel steam coming out of my nose and ears and, before I knew it, I had downed my glass and slammed it on the counter with a resounding thump. 

“You can get your own smoothie.” 

Harrison held his hands up in mock surrender, but he was laughing. “Woah, there. You seem upset.” 

“Why do you think I am, Haz?” I challenged. Before he could open his mouth to speak, I pressed on, “Right. You forgot to tell me who’d be getting the door for me.” 

“You wouldn’t have come,” was his pathetic reply. My eyes followed him as he lazily plopped down on the royal-blue couch, shamelessly lounging about in the heat of my anger. 

I took the spot next to him, willing every muscle not to pounce and put him in a chokehold. “That justifies it perfectly!” 

As if he hadn’t heard a word, Harrison grabbed the remote control from the table, turned on the TV, and flipped through the channels. At this point, I was livid and fuming from his blatant lack of regard to my situation.  I was about to throw the “this is why we don’t hang out anymore” card when he pointed a finger to the TV, commanding me to look. 

At first, I was confused. Then my mouth hung agape. 

There, on CNN, was a portrait of Harrison. These days, that was no longer a rarity. Seeing as he was all over the media, picking up guest roles for established television dramas, and getting invited to countless talk shows, it was almost natural. 

No, the real shock came with the news headline at the bottom of the screen, screaming in bold letters against a red backdrop. 

“Harrison Osterfield to star in an up and coming historical drama directed by Martin Scorsese.” 

What the… 

Scorsese?! 

Martin fucking Scorsese! 

“Yup,” Haz said nonchalantly, but the pride in his voice was unmistakable. “Your little childhood friend just landed his first starring role.” 

Suddenly, all hostility left my body at once. “Oh my God, Haz! That’s amazing. W-Wow. And Scorsese too! That’s been your dream since… forever.” 

“Exactly! This is huge, Y/N. Absolutely mad.” 

“I’ll miss you, bro,” came an uninvited voice. I was so overjoyed and completely thrilled for my friend that I didn’t even notice Tom had managed to wedge his head between mine and Harrison’s from behind the couch. His arms were hung over the back cushion, pinching Haz’s cheek as commendation and the other accidentally grazing my bare shoulder. I pulled away. 

“Miss him? Where’s he going?” I asked. 

“Nowhere. At least, not now,” Tom winked. “Come on, Haz, tell her already.” 

I narrowed my eyes, looking back and forth between the two boys. “Tell me what?” 

“Don’t freak out before you’ve heard the whole thing, but—“ 

“Don’t start your sentences like that!” I scolded. “Now I’m kind of already freaking out, thanks.” 

“Okay. I know this will come as a shock to you, but I need you to take your spot back as Tom’s personal assistant.” 

Harrison spoke fast and managed to get it all out in one breath, but the words echoed in my mind in slow-motion. When I didn’t answer, Haz took it as a sign to continue. 

“I obviously have other things to pursue now, and with the second Spider-Man movie filming next week, he’ll really need you.” 

“No. Stop talking. Why?! It doesn’t have to be me!” I protested when the air returned to my lungs. 

Harrison pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Y/N, you know I wouldn’t do this to you if I had a choice. I know this is all so last-minute, but that’s exactly why it has to be you. You’ve worked with Tom in the past, and have shown your skill and competence. They trust you!” 

“They?” I raised my eyebrows at Tom, who could only shrug in response. 

“My manager.” A pause. “And me, I guess.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” I glared. “Two years ago, you fired me out of fucking nowhere so you could spend some quality time with your best friend! And now in your most desperate time, you call for me?” 

“I thought you’d be happy,” Tom hummed, but we both knew of the strain that the past had placed on whatever friendship we had. Following the events, I unfollowed him on social media shortly, and he did the same six months later when he finally noticed. We’d never reconciled since then. 

It wasn’t that I grew attached to my boss that I was so bitter about it. No, it was nothing personal. But as someone who only knew to be completely invested in their work, getting laid off for no valid reason never quite sat well with me. Not to mention the mountain of bills I had to tend to in the wake of my unemployment. 

Sensing the rising tension, Haz interjected. “Please, Y/N. At least do it for me. I won’t be able to do Scorsese if I can’t find a replacement. I don’t want to leave Tom with just anyone.” 

The softness in his eyes spoke volumes to me. I’ve always cared for Harrison deeply, and if I was the one thing that came between him and his dream, I’d never be able to forgive myself. 

Also, I was sold the moment he said, “It’s only for six months—just until they can screen and select someone else. They promised to double the pay. Triple, if you want me to pull some strings.” 

“Fine,” I grumbled. 

“Thank you!” He beamed and pulled me into a one-armed hug. “God, I love you so much.” 

I couldn’t help the smile on my face. “But I still start next week, so you can save your praise until then.” 

“Nope. You start in three hours! Tom’s leaving for LA tonight, so you’re taking him to the airport. His bags are ready,” he said, motioning to the luggages I saw earlier. “Then pick him up again next week, when he’ll start filming here in London.” 

Harrison was already barking orders at me, much to my chagrin. Had he not appeased me a while ago, I would have slapped his words right back at him. But no, I was playing nice starting now for the duration of six months. 

“I knew you’d come along,” Tom whispered in my ear when Haz excused himself to grab the itinerary. 

“You shut up,” I pointed a finger at him. “You had nothing to do with this.”

A/N: a short and sweet first chapter for you! send me a message to be tagged in this (i’ll start doing the reblog-for-a-tag in future chapters once i’ve established that people actually wanna read this lol). in the meantime, please help me by commenting and reblogging the hell out of this first one; that shit encourages us writers uwu <3 my ask box is also open for any prompts, questions, and suggestions, so feel free to drop by. let’s be friends!

if you’re still reading, send in red and blue hearts for our boi tom holland!

[theklancecollection]

Keith & Krolia Modern AU

Keith is an only child who lives with his mom

he doesn’t know much about his dad; his mom refuses to give any concrete answers save he loved you very much but now he’s not here

he used to care a lot when he was younger

on father’s day when all the kids would make glittery cards for their dads, keith would come home empty handed

when he learned about families, he was taught the nuclear family code; how every normal family has a mom and a dad and a baby and they all live in a big house with their cats and dogs

keith came home crying that day because he didn’t have a dad or a big house or a cat or a dog

his mom marched her way to the school the next day and had a long talk with the principal about the wrong messages that are are being delivered to the children

you don’t need to abide by the nuclear code to be considered normal

a normal family can have two moms or two dads, or no parents and only grandparents; or siblings/caretakers/guardians or just a single mom or dad

there is no rulebook that says there needs to be a mom and a dad in order for the child to be happy

the principal argued back, stating the child’s mental well being which pissed krolia off

keith ended up changing schools in the middle of the semester

since it’s just the two of them, they live in a small, but cozy, apartment

he loves the view of the setting sun

the entire flat would be bathed in a deep golden light

during summers, they pull out a mattress and sleep in the living room since their rooms become really stuffy

the fan will be on full blast but it’s no use; so they will have the windows open

they can hear the cars zooming past and the occasional siren

keith is more of a sportman

after school, he will drop in only to chug down a cold water bottle before he dashes out to play with his friends

loves playing basketball

he prefers doing his homework when his mom is home

krolia comes home by 5 / 6 pm max

she hates making dinner

when she comes home, she just wants to sit back and relax

keith’s teenage years were a nightmare for her since that boy ate like a vacuum cleaner

he would inhale rather than properly chew his food

she loves summers as she can just walk around in her shorts and tank tops

she loathes winters because of all the layers she has to wear

they love watching horror films together

their halloween preparations begin as early as september

they don’t care much for thanksgiving; it’s all about the scares and thrills for them

they will hit all the stores and buy huge bulks of various chocolates, treats and flavored popcorn

but they don’t share any of it with the trick-or-treaters; they hoard it for themselves

keith loved buttered popcorn for the longest time until he switched over to chex mix

it has everything

kroila loves spiced popcorn

every friday and saturday night, they will cuddle together munching on their goodies as they go on movie marathons

if either of them scream loudly and hide behind the other, they don’t say a word about it the next day

krolia is scared of all kinds of insects while keith is terrified of clowns

he fucking hates pennywise with a passion

he’s not scared to admit, he had to sleep with his mom for a whole week after he watched It

they love to play pranks on each other

they try to up the scales with each prank

krolia purposely put in a red sock in the washer making all of keith’s clothes turn pink

he was teased about it for about a month

keith bought a bunch of rubber spiders, threw them on his mom’s bedroom floor when she was asleep

she woke up to the sound of skittering and screamed at the top of her lungs seeing all the “spiders”

keith recorded the whole thing and never let her live it down

keith loves going on hikes even though his mom doesn’t want him to go on his own

there’s no telling who might be out there

he still goes and one day he’s actually followed by a creepy, looking guy

he manages to get away but when he comes home, he’s a mess

krolia yells at him a lot that day

from then on, all hiking adventures are saved for the weekends and during the day time

keith hates all the science

he likes his social studies class more

he only manages to pass his science classes because his mom is super smart and is able to dumb everything down for him

they like to cook together

tacos, enchiladas, pizzas (anything that can be assembled really)

they don’t have the patience for long duration meals especially during school days

during summer times, they like to experiment a lot

krolia loves to bbq

keith always brags about his mom making some of THE BEST bbq foods ever

wings, steaks, kebabs etc. she’s a PRO

keith loves to make popsicles, smoothies and milkshakes

they both love waffles over pancakes

BACON and turkey sausages are a MUST for them

saturday mornings, they laze around in bed

keith would bring their breakfast and they will slowly re-energize

they spend at least an hour just finishing up their meals and watching cartoons

if he’s really lazy, he’ll just bring bowls of cereal (honey bunches of oats with crispy almonds)

if he’s feeling a bit fancy, he’ll make scrambled eggs, toast (buttered for him not his mom), some fruit (they both split a banana and share the grapes and strawberries) and have a side of bacon (he can never get the sausages right)

sundays, they have to get their asses in gear and get all the chores done

usually means laundry, sweeping, cleaning out the bathroom etc

keith takes the longest showers

he would spend hours pampering himself with all the scented shampoos and conditioners

kroila had to learn the hard way to get her ass out of bed and into the bathroom before he did

on her really bad days, kroila loves to take bubble baths so that she can de-stress

she’ll light up the candles, use her special bottles and crack open her favorite romance novel and playing calming music

keith knows not to disturb her during this time

kroila hates grocery shopping

she never knows what to get

once she’s in there she feels like a black hole as she wants everything

once she went out to get a tub of ice cream and brought home some yuccas instead

so keith ends up going along with her much to his chagrin

she’s okay with all other forms of shopping though since she only gets what she needs

they have a monthly ritual where they alternate between picking out a new restaurant to visit

keith loved the last caribbean place they visited a lot

he earned a fond taste of spicy foods while kroila needs things to be on the sweet and sour side

keith’s mom works at a hardware store and is very knowledgeable about fixing things

she would often be called on by people in the building for help

she’s able to make decent money this way but she chooses not to

she’s often invited by men who are lusting after her

once, a man followed kroila home and tried to force his way in

keith, who was about 6 at the time, was frightened but kroila was able to fight the man off with no problem

she called the police and filed an official complaint on him just to be safe

even though he was scared, keith had a baseball bat in hand, ready to strike in case his mom needed help

kroila got teary eyed and after locking the door shut, hugged her boy really tight

they both cried and huddled together that night

kroila tried teaching keith the basics on how to defend himself but he kept holding himself back whenever she urged him to attack her

she enrolled him to several karate and martial arts classes

keith’s favorite show at the time was power rangers

he would imitate the fight sequences the rangers performed

he would get yelled at every time he broke a vase / lamp

when he was 11, he asked his mom if she ever wanted to get married again or have a boyfriend or something

she didn’t; she was perfectly happy with what she has with keith right now and truthfully, doesn’t think she can make time for a relationship

she just doesn’t feel attracted to people that way anymore

keith isn’t entirely sure what she meant by that but he didn’t push it since he was happy with the answer he got

part 2 || part 3

[thesirenserenity]

I Like It

Fandom: Voltron

Pairing: Klance!

Summary: Keith is stuck at the ballroom dance social at Shiro's studio. Lance, a dance teacher there, is determined to get him on the dance floor. Keith, who is a hip-hop teacher and competition dancer, rises to the challenge and shows off for Lance. Awkward confessions and sudden kisses follow! A fluffy one-shot dance au, featuring Keith shaking his ass, a flustered Lance, mutual pining, and flirting.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @kimchee2222​!!!!!!!!!!!! I hope you love your present!! It was so fun to write dancing again! Thank you for making the request and causing plot bunnies to flow. 

A huge thank you to @thisismyfangirlface​ for Beta-ing for me! You always catch my awkward things and fix them!!

Check it out on ao3. Dance video links at the end. 

Keith glared at his book, his hair flopping down into his face with his huff. Though, to be fair, it wasn’t the book’s fault that he was stuck at Shiro’s ballroom dance studio, surrounded by tons of flamboyantly loud people and the overwhelmingly loud music that switched between genres. It honestly gave him whiplash to have his foot tapping to Latin music, then to a pop song, then to a soft waltz, then to swing music. He sunk further into the couch, wishing he wore his maroon hoodie so he could flip his hood up and nope away from all of this. But alas, he was still in his dance class attire: ripped black, stretchy skinny jeans, his worn black high tops, a black v-neck, and a red-checkered flannel. He was horribly out-dressed by all the instructors and students in dress pants or flowy skirts. He didn’t understand how people could dance in nice clothes, but he was just glad he didn’t wear sweatpants or anything embarrassing like that.

Because Keith’s bike was in the shop, Shiro had offered him a ride home from his Urban dance studio down the road. But the ride home had come with a stop at Altea Ballroom Dance Studio, where Shiro worked that evening, and now he was stuck here until Shiro was done.

From what he understood, Shiro had a lesson and then there was a dance social? He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he had a feeling it was along the lines of a ‘lots of people get together and ballroom dance’ type of thing. Shiro had also said that there would be food, and from the fragrant smells in the air, it was Mexican food. Maybe the theme was Latin night?

He tried to get sucked back into his book, but the loud noises of people filing into the studio was very distracting. He wanted to smack himself for forgetting his headphones on the kitchen counter, but honestly, the music probably would have been too loud for the little headphones to drown out. Note to Keith: buy better headphones when his first paycheck on his new raise comes in.

“Keith!”

His head snapped up as a small figure came barreling at him and rammed into him, making him lose his balance and topple over sideways on the couch.

He yelped in surprise and looked down to see his arms full of his little gremlin of a best friend. “Hello Pidgey,” he sighed.

Pidge pulled back from the tackle hug and grinned up at him. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight! Did Shiro finally convince you to come to a Social?”

Keith raised a snarky eyebrow, “Do you really think I would willingly come to anything dubbed ‘social?’”

Pidge rolled her eyes. “Yea, yea, you antisocial little fuck. Then how did he manage to drag you here?”

“Necessity. My class got out right before this and my bike is still in the shop, so Shiro picked me up.”

“Aww, big bro loves you!”

“Shut up, small bean,” Keith sassed, mimicking Matt’s nickname for Pidge.

Her eyes flashed dangerously, “Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t tease me,” he smirked.

“Fair.”

She stood up from their awkward tangle on the couch and Keith got a good look at her. He let out a low whistle, “Damn, Pidge, you clean up nice.”

Pidge nervously brushed the wrinkles from her olive green jumpsuit. The fabric hugged her legs down to her black keds, and the collared top was sleeveless. It was a far cry different from her usual cargo shorts and oversized sweatshirt.

“Thanks, you don’t think it’s too much?”

He shook his head and grinned, “It looks good! A lot better for you than Allura’s swishy dresses.”

She huffed, “Allura did manage to get some mascara on me, though.”

Keith chuckled, imagining Shiro’s girlfriend, and the co-owner of the studio, pinning down a squirming Pidge to get mascara on her. “I would have killed to see that.”

She turned her head to the side, mumbling, “Matt was dying of laughter.”

He laughed harder at that, “Damn, I bet. Though, honestly, I didn’t notice a difference. You just look like you actually slept last night.”

“Thank god,” Pidge grinned. “I thought I looked weird.”

“I mean,” Keith smirked, “you actually sleeping is weird.”

Pidge flipped him off, “For that, you have to save a dance for me tonight.” She turned, leaving before he could protest.

He still yelled after her retreating back, “Nope! Not dancing tonight!”

She ignored him, walking through the open door that lead to the giant dance floor. Looking through the glass walls, he saw that the floor was filling and the social was now in full swing.

He sighed in defeat and pulled his book back up to his face.

Pidge’s brother and Shiro’s best friend, Matt, did the bookkeeping for Altea Ballroom Dance Studio, and so Pidge got discounts on lessons. While it was a far different hobby from her robotics and computer programing (read: hacking), Keith still knew that Pidge loved the thrill of dancing. She occasionally did some hip-hop classes with him, but she loved how fast ballroom dancing allowed her to switch between genres. It kept her active mind engaged and she memorized the dance sequences as fast as she did binary code.

“Keith!” a familiar voice shouted, snapping his attention from his book once again.

He grinned at the familiar man coming towards him and stood, extending his hand. “Hi Hunk- oof!” Hunk snatched the outstretched hand and had surprised him with one-armed hug.

They pulled back and Keith couldn’t help but smile. Hunk’s cheerfulness was contagious, even if Keith had only hung out with him a few times. He was a friend of Pidge’s from her university and best friends with one of the instructors here.

“Hi man! I haven’t seen you since Shiro’s birthday get-together! How are you?”

Keith rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. Pidge had invited him to hang out with their crew a few times, but Keith had been busy recently with the new classes he was teaching and choreographing for. “I’ve been good, just busy. I got a bit of a promotion at work.”

Hunk clapped him on the back, “Congrats man! That’s such good news! Are you going to dance tonight? I know it’s not much of your style, but tonight is Latin night, which is always fun!”

Keith shrugged, “I mean, it wasn’t my intention and I’m kinda just waiting for Shiro to be done because my bikes in the shop. But Pidge seemed pretty insistent that I dance with her at some point.”

“You so should! I’m sure she would love that. I’ve got to go find Lance, but we should hang out more! We always have a blast with you! Pidge loves having her crew together, and Lance always has fun. Mario Kart last time was a riot!”

Keith recalled the party at their house, where the four of the ‘kids,’ as Matt called Pidge’s trio and Keith, had played Mario Kart for ages. And how he and Lance had almost ended up brawling on the floor over a silly competition.

“Yea, it was… fun. We should do it again soon.”

Hunk turned, waving, and Keith flopped back down on the couch, picking his book up for the upteenth time. Good lord, he just wanted to read and avoid ballroom dancing as much as possible.

Was that too much to ask?

Apparently so, because he hadn’t even finished the page before matte black dance shoes, like the sixteen pairs Shiro has lying around the house, appeared in his view.

Keith sighed and followed the long legs up to a smirking face with gorgeous blue eyes. Not that Keith would ever admit that out loud.

He raised an eyebrow at the dance instructor, “Hello Lance.”

Lance grinned and popped out a hip, placing his hand on it. “Hello, Mullet. I didn’t think you were coming to say hi to me.”

Keith lifted up his book a little and plopped it back down in his lap. “I’m just reading here.”

“Nope!” Lance said, grabbing onto Keith’s wrist and yanking him to his feet. Keith stumbled, trying not to smack into the taller man and snatched his wrist away. Which Lance just grabbed onto again. “Shiro has been trying to get you to come to one of these for months, man. You can’t just sit there and read!”

Keith just rolled his eyes, “I’m only here because my bike is in the shop, like I told Hunk, who probably told you I was out here.”

“That he did, Mullet! And I say that you can’t just sit in a corner all night at a dance social!”

“I don’t know how to ballroom dance, nor do I intend to socialize,” Keith deadpanned.

“You’ve said hi to people, which is socializing, and I’ll teach you how to ballroom dance. It’s kinda my job.”

Keith pulled on his kidnapped wrist, “I really don’t need to learn and don’t want to be the new person on the dance floor.”

Lance didn’t let go of his wrist, “You aren’t the only new person!”

“But…”

Lance cut him off, leaning into his space, his eyes glinting with a challenge. “You scared, Keithy-boy?”

Fire rose in Keith, the familiar determination from when he hit the stage or stood in front of his class. “I’m never scared.”

“Then let’s go!” Lance surprised him by yanking him toward the door, his book forgotten on the couch.

Keith didn’t have a chance to pull back or adjust before he was swept onto the side of the dance floor, Lance spinning him around and catching him. He did everything not to stumble and looked up to see Lance’s smirking gaze inches from him, his hands burning on Keith’s back.

“Come on, pretty boy, I’ll teach you.”

Keith blinked in shock, flustered at the nickname and the close proximity. He could feel the flush creeping over his face, grateful for the dark room and flashing lights.

Lance didn’t pull away, but rather grabbed both Keith’s hands in his and pushed toward him. “Follow my feet.”

Keith looked down, recognizing the step as a Salsa, from his years of watching Shiro. While he knew what to do, he had never necessarily tried it with someone before. Though he may have been guilty of throwing similar footwork into some of his choreography.

Lance was counting for him, their linked hands still flowing with the rhythm. “Good, you picked that up fast. Feel the beat and don’t be afraid to put some hip into it.”

Keith’s eyes snapped to Lance’s rotating hips and the room got hotter.

“It makes it easier for you to flow with the rhythm,” and Lance’s hands were on his hips, guiding them how to move.

His breath hitched in his throat. Lance was pulling him closer and he couldn’t handle it.

 Sure, Lance was attractive and charming, but Keith didn’t usually go for the loud and flirty type. When they first met, Lance had worked really hard to make Keith feel welcome in their group by egging him on into competitions and flirting with him, and Keith couldn’t help but notice his smooth, tanned skin, mile-long legs, and teasing grin. He still can’t help but notice.

 So yeah, Keith didn’t usually go for the loud flirty type, but with Lance crooning instructions next to his ear, his hands burning into Keith’s hips, his gay ass couldn’t help but sit up and stand at attention.

 A drawn out “gaaaaayyyyyy,” ripped Keith from his reverie and his head snapped towards Pidge, who was spinning by with Shiro.

“Shut up, gremlin,” he snapped back.

Lance chuckled, “Don’t worry about her, she is really happy you’re here.”

Keith was really blushing now and flopped his head forward onto Lance’s shoulder. “I know snark is her love language and all, but still.”

He could feel Lance’s body shaking as he laughed. “Come on, Mullet. Stop hiding in my shoulder and let me teach you how to dance, so you can shut her up with how amazing you are.”

Keith pulled back an eyebrow raised, his embarrassment fading with the challenge. “You do know that I dance, right?”

Lance pushed Keith back into the simple salsa step and guided him into a spin. Keith flowed with it and met Lance’s competitive glance when he pulled their bodies close and folded an arm around his back. Keith got caught up in the ballroom hold, his hand tightening around Lance’s fingers.

“Well, pretty boy, so I’ve been told. Though, for someone supposedly so good at dancing, you sure seem reluctant to get on the dance floor. So naturally,” a smirk graced his lips and he leaned his face towards Keith’s, “I’ve come to question your supposed dancing skills.”

Keith’s eyes squinted and he met Lance’s swinging hips with his own, noting a hitch in the man’s breath with satisfaction. “You should know enough about me to know that I rise to any challenge,” the innuendo heavy in his voice. A smirk spread across his lips when Lance’s eyes widened.

He really listened to the music then, his senses taking in the beat. Even though it wasn’t his typical genre, these fun pop-ish Latin tunes followed the same predictable form. The familiar bubble of determination and impulsivity that had given him the courage to throw himself on stage was rising in him. His senses tuned in, his natural musicality kicking in. He could turn any song into a dance, easily.

“Then let’s see it, Keithy-boy.”

Keith smirked, ready for the challenge and took a couple steps back. He tuned into bouncy Latin beat, taking a second to feel the rhythm coursing through his veins and caught the tag of the song.

 The bass dropped out just as he started moving, the solo counter melody playing under the Spanish lyrics. He latched onto the repeating rhythm, feeling the slow-quick-quick.

 Y dónde está mi gente?

 Keith took a step towards Lance and out, scooping his arms and pushing them to his left with a slide, popping his fingers down and up on the quick beats. Then he pushed back on the next beat, waving his arms and scooping his right foot, the flow contrasting his previous snappy beats.

 (Mais il faut bouger la tête)

 Planting again, he scooped his arms up and over and then brought them together on his right hip. He popped his elbow up, keeping his arms at an angle, and ran a wave along them. His lower body followed the wave, his right foot popping on the beat.

 Y dónde está mi gente?

 Snapping his head to look to the left, he pushed his right hand through his left, and rolled his hands down, leaning with it. He popped up on the next beat, looking up to see if Lance was still watching. He grinned when he saw the man’s shocked eyes were on him and continued.

 Say yeah, yeah, yeah

 He pushed down and pulled back on his next step forward, his left foot popping up behind him. Then he stepped back, his weight falling on the left foot, and jumped back twice.

 1, 2, 3, leggo'

 He scooped his right leg on the first beat, planting his foot on the ground. On the second beat he posed, pointing and shifting right. On the third beat, he pushed forward, pointing at Lance, a smirk and challenge on his face. Then he prepped on his left foot and kicked his right leg up. Landing on it, he body rolled through popping his hips back with a sexy snap and noting a shift in Lance’s expression. A good shift.  

 The bass kicked in as he shifted away. He caught the drum hits in the music, pointing with each hand, and then hit the two triangle dings with his right. He stepped forward and back, his body rolling and hip popping with each step, matching the Latin flair in the music. He pressed his right foot out on the next beat, his hands crossing down, and popped back immediately after, his arms up and feet together. Then, he pushed down, his body collapsing, and popped back up, his legs apart and arms ready. He caught the groves in the music, hips rolling to the right as he leaned, exaggerating the movement for his audience.

 On the next beat, he snapped back to the left, transferring his weight and pushing his arms out. His right foot stepped forward, his left stepping behind, his hands snatching up the bottom of his shirt, flicking it up to expose a strip of skin and back down with his head movement on each step. Catching the next groove, he poured a hip pop into his leg twist, bringing his hands up his body as he repeated it. Then, he jumped onto his right foot, his left popping up and arms passing a wave down to his fingers. He repeated on the other side, and then did it a third time, hitting a hitch half way through, and finished with a fast headshake. Then, he threw his arms in, releasing and stepping on his left foot.

 Recalling some of the fast Latin footwork he had seen Shiro do before and aiming to impress the dance teacher watching, he crossed his feet, twisting on his right heel and releasing his left foot out, his hands pulling across his body, like a samba. His left foot swung forward and crossed over his right leg, his right hand mimicking pulling it up. Then he stepped forward, his right foot sliding up under his left foot in a small kick, and then he pushed back, his arms thrown up in the air. He looked up at Lance for a moment, giving him an “I told you so” look and was rewarded with wide eyes and a visible blush.

 He flowed backwards, planted to the side, and then contracted his abs, crossing his arms in front of his body and releasing. His arms flowed down as he bodyrolled, keeping sultry eye contact with the boy who challenged him, taking two small steps forward. Jumping his feet out, he popped right, then left, pulled it back in a small body roll, and then threw his arms over his shoulder.

 Keith stepped on his left foot, then his right, his hand pulling along with him, and then sent an isolated body wave up through his body from his feet, his hands mimicking and stopping in front of his chest. Following the drum beats in the music, he quickly placed his right hand on his right shoulder, then his left on his left, used his right hand to grab his chin, tilt his head, shift his upper body to the right, grab in the air, and then drop into his legs on the last beat.

 He froze as the words kicked back in, hearing some cheering at him and looked up, seeing that he had gathered a bit of a crowd. Sending a smirking glance at Lance, he stepped and wiggled his hips to each side and then double to the left. Pivoting forward onto his right foot, he swung his arms forward and then twisted the momentum back and repeated on the other side, his body rolling with the motion, a move he stole from Allura’s zumba. On each of the next drum beats, he hit a harsh pose, his body flowing and freezing with the music.

 On the last one, he threw his body out, rolling through each limb. The next beat had him collapsing on himself, his right arm in a fist to the ground, his left crossed over, and head down. He froze for a second, and then rolled his head up, holding eye contact with Lance. Following the movement up, he stepped on each foot, mimicking the hip swing of Latin steps, and then pushed his left foot backwards, leaning forward on his right and extending his arms slowly in a wave.

 He snapped it in, kicking his feet out quickly on each “yeah.” Getting to the end of a phrase, he jumped on each number in the music, pumping his arms, and then ended with a sharp spin.

 The music continued to pound around him and he swept his arms into a bow, grinning up at the crowd of people encircling him. He could see the shocked look on Lance’s face and crossed his arms over his chest, smirking. Keith felt pride that he could pull that flustered, blushy expression out of a hot man. Especially a hot man who danced and knew all the nuances of the Latin music that Keith had turned into his own bastardized version of hip-hop. He took a step toward Lance, ready to tease him.

 Then, the music cut off and a very familiar melody started to play.

 Yeah baby, I like it like that,

 “Come on Keith,” Shiro’s voice yelled across the room, “stop freestyling and show them what you really can do!”

 Keith threw his head back and laughed. Of course Shiro would put on the song that he had most recently choreographed.

 You gotta believe me when I tell you, I said I like it like that

 Well, it did show off his dancing and it had a Latin flair. Keith grinned at Lance, raising an eyebrow in his direction. He figured that the man could handle some more teasing and was determined to impress.

 His hips started moving with the beat, his eyes falling closed as he prepped himself to show off.

 You gotta believe me when I tell you, I said I like it like

 Now I like dollars, I like diamonds,  I like stunting, I like shining

 He started slowly, taking a step toward Lance on each beat, his hips rolling with the movement. His right fingers rubbed together, mimicking money on “dollars,” and continued upwards, a sultry look on his face. On the next two steps, he continued the walk forward, changing his sultry hip rolls to isolated pops, his arm flowing back down over his body.

 I like million dollar deals, where's my pen? Bitch I'm signin'

 The walk flowed into a jump, his right leg kicking and body popping, smacking at his left hand twice. His legs jumped out, planting, and he threw his weight to the right, hitting the mark. Then his right hand swooped out and he popped his upper body to the left, flowing it into two steps that way, his right hand in front of him and allowed his body to roll, his eyes on the man in front of him.  

 I like those Balenciagas, the ones that look like socks

 On the beat of the words, he pumped his arms by his hips, and then flowed into a slow body roll, his right leg flowing out with his right arm. The next hard beat had him pushing his ass the opposite direction, his body snapping together to follow it, and then popped his knees out on the following drum hits. His left leg kicked up on “socks” and he froze, motioning toward his feet and flicking his hands twice.

 I like going to the jeweler, I put rocks all in my watch

 Setting his foot down on the next beat, he body rolled up from his foot twice, his arms flowing up his body. He stepped out of it with his right foot, popped his knee out, pushed his arms the opposite way, and then stepped his left foot back, his right coming to cross over it, his hands flowing in front of his body to gesture to his wrist.

 I like texts from my exes when they want a second chance

 He hit the beat by bringing his arms toward his hip pop and began to step back on each beat, his arms hitting behind him and crossing in front of him. Following the rhythm, he stepped to the side and threw his arms out and back in quickly. Rolling down next, he stepped his foot out into a brief squat and shaking his hips to each side.

 I like proving niggas wrong, I do what they say I can't

 Then he went sexy, straightening up and swinging his hips to each side, his hands caressing down his chest and gaze directly at Lance. Keith grinned when Lance visibly swallowed. He spun backwards, breaking the eye contact, and then threw his arms up, hitting the beat by crossing them over his chest, stepping forward and leaning down.

 They call me Cardi Bardi, banging body

 He straightened up and punched toward his left hip, popping it on the beat, and followed that with a hip thrust. Swooping his left arm up, he leaned back on his left leg and clapped his hands together, twisting his hips.

 Spicy mami, hot tamale

 Following gravity, his right leg hit the floor, hips still twisting, and pumped his arm to the right twice. Stepping out of it to his right, he pulled his body up and gave a cute shake of his ass with tiny valley girl arms and a large grin.

 Hotter than a Somali, fur coat, Ferrari

 He then took four stiff steps forward, his right arm following the movement, and planted, hips thrusting upward twice to meet his hands. Stepping in, he snaked his arms together and turned to face the left, his arm swooping with the motion.

 Hop out the stu', jump in the coupe (the coupe), they trippin' on top of the roof

 Following the smooth motion, he stepped backwards once and then faced Lance again, his arms circling with his knees. He jumped and crossed his legs and unwound backwards, and then countered back the same way, his arms following the flowing movements. His feet came together as he planted, facing left again.

 Flexing on bitches as hard as I can, eating halal, driving the Lam'

 He then stepped out, his right arm coming up high to meet his left, and then flowing down his body, which rolled with the motion twice. He stepped together again and mimicked eating, and then stepped across, bobbing with his right arm out, pretending to drive.

 Told that bitch I'm sorry though, 'bout my coins like Mario (Mario)

 He continued the walk to the right and grooving with the beat, throwing his hand down and twisting on “though.” He continued to walk backwards, and then swooped his right leg back and turned, jumping.

 Yeah they call me Cardi B, I run this shit like cardio

 Taking quick steps forward, he swooped his arms forward together, and then did quick footwork, his chest popping out with his hands. Crossing his right foot over his left, he turned quickly, and then mimicked a slow run on “cardio,” his body rolling with each step.

 Oh, damn, Diamond district in the jag (I said I like it like that)

 As the bass dropped, his left leg stepped forward twice, his hips hitting each beat and arms popping. He slid around to face the other way, and then threw in a Cha-cha step, his hips snapping in the right way and arms following the familiar movement he observed from Shiro. He heard Lance’s squeak over the music and knew that he had done this successfully and impressed, and maybe even turned on, someone who did these steps for a living.

 Certified, know I'm gang, gang, gang, gang (I said I like it like–)

 He repeated this idea, stepping forward with his right foot twice, and then hit each “gang” with an isolated chest pop.

 Drop the top and blow the brains (I said I like it like that)

 He stepped through this movement, dragging his foot behind him and dramatically throwing his head back, hitting the last pop of his choreographed content. The crowd’s cheering drew him out of his solo dance for Lance, causing him to realize that the whole studio was watching him.

 He allowed his body to flow into his traditional ‘show-off’ tricks. Body-rolling back, he dipped low and placed his hand on the floor. His abs tightened, pulling his legs over his head and balanced in the one-handed handstand. He shifted his weight, legs separating and spinning his body around. His other hand came down to the floor, catching the spin and bringing it down to the traditional breakdance spin.

He could hear the cheers filling the studio at his fancy move. It egged him on, preening under the crowd’s attention and his desire to impress. If he was going to put himself out there, then he damn well better deliver!

He broke the spin, placing a foot on the floor and kicking back up into a handstand and allowing his body to arch over his hands slowly. He took a quick glance at the space he had in front of him, making eye contact with a visibly shocked Lance. A grin spread over his face and he plotted his next move in that split second. Pushing off the floor, he let his feet it the floor and took two steps back, planted, and switched his momentum. He jumped forward into a front handspring, hit the ground, and continued into a front flip. Time seemed to slow down as he flew through the air.

Then his feet hit the ground and he drew up to his full height, about two feet from Lance, a large grin on his face.

The whole studio erupted into cheers, drowning out the rest of the music. Keith held eye contact with Lance, smirking at the amazement on his face.

Then Pidge tackled him, and he stumbled to catch her and not fall on his ass. “That was amazing, Keith! Was that your new choreo for the advanced class you are teaching?”

“Teaching?!” Lance squeaked.

“You have to teach it to me! Plus, you need to brush me up on breakdancing tricks, it’s been so long!” Pidge continued.

Hunk barreled into them, lifting both him and Pidge into a hug. “That was so great Keith! You’re such a good dancer!”

Keith awkwardly patted his arm, trying to breathe. “Thanks man, glad you enjoyed it.”

Pidge’s muffled voice emerged from the middle. “Can’t breathe, Hunk!”

“Ope, sorry Pidge!” and both of them were back on the ground.

Keith glanced at Lance, who was still frozen in shock, before Allura was squeezing him into a hug. “It was so lovely to see you dance again, Keith! You really have improved since the last competition I went to watch with Shiro, and your choreography was amazing!”

“Competition?!” Lance squeaked again.

Shiro reached over his girlfriend and ruffled Keith’s already messy hair. “Fantastic job, Keith!”

He smiled up at his brother, “Thanks guys, glad you enjoyed it.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Lance finally unfroze and barreled into the group. “Hold the phone. You compete? Teach? What studio?”

Shiro answered before Keith could. “He has been competing with the Blade of Marmora for a couple years, as well as teaching beginning and intermediate classes. He just got promoted to teaching their advanced classes last week.”

“The Blade of Marmora? Aren’t they the like the top Urban dance group in the state?” Lance asked, his voice rising.

Keith shrugged, “I mean, we’ve won our past few competitions, so I guess?”

“Cool, cool, cool.”

Keith tried to hide his smirk at how flustered Lance was. The rest of the group began to trickle away as a new song came on.

But Keith just took a step toward Lance, getting into his space again. “I told you I can dance.”

Lance waved a hand at him and sputtered. Keith internally chuckled; he liked that he could make a cute boy flustered.

A very cute, nice boy, who had purposefully egged him on to get him on the dance floor and loosen up. A very sweet boy, who was best friends with all his friends, who Shiro and Allura loved. A sexy, Cuban boy, who could move his hips like no other and had no hesitation to get close to him.

Keith smiled softly and held a hand out to Lance. “Teach me more ballroom?”

This seemed to help Lance snap back into his confident air, as he grabbed Keith’s hand and pulled him in close. They fell into an easy salsa step, getting wrapped up into the music.

Just when Lance seemed to be comfortable enough, Keith internally smirked and leaned in to his ear. “So, I take it you liked my dancing, then?”

Lance groaned and flopped his head onto Keith’s shoulder. “I’m not even going to pretend that I didn’t think that was the hottest thing ever. I was not expecting you to be literally the best hip-hop dancer I’ve ever seen.”

Keith laughed out loud and took his hand from Lance’s shoulder to set it on his hair comfortingly. “Good to know that you find my dancing hot.”

Lance’s head jerked up and he glared down at Keith. “Don’t you tease me, I just bared my soul to you!”

Keith grinned up at him, letting their next step move him closer to lance. He slotted their bodies together, just as Lance did earlier. “I’m not teasing,” Keith said genuinely. “It’s good to know I’m not the only one who feels the chemistry here.”

“Oh god,” Lance stammered. “Do you always go straight for the jugular? Is this what dating you will be like?”

“Dating?!” It was Keith’s turn to be surprised and flustered.

Lance pulled away, keeping a firm grip on his hand, and dragged him out of the studio and out the back door into the clear night air.

He dropped Keith’s hand and looked up at the sky, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to blurt out that. My mouth runs without thinking sometimes.”

Keith took a deep breath and stepped in front of him. “Dating?” He repeated, quieter.

“I…” Lance took a deep breath and squinted his eyes shut. “I think you’re super attractive and funny and like spending time with you and was thinking about asking you out,” he blurted out.

Keith’s mouth dropped open and he stared at Lance.

“I mean, I know we’ve only hung out a couple times,” he continued, rambling, “but I really like you?” Lance’s blue eyes turned down to him, a hesitant smile on his face.

Keith was blown away by how genuine Lance’s expression was. He was putting himself completely out there, baring his soul to him under the twinkling stars.

“Keith? Buddy?” Lance’s face grew worried. “A response would be nice, ya know, even if it is a re- oomf!”

Keith snatched the front of his shirt and crashed their lips together. He felt Lance freeze in shock, and then melt, his hands coming up to tangle into his hair and slot their lips together better. Keith’s grip relaxed and rested on Lance’s chest, his other hand coming up to encase his cheek.

They pulled apart after a moment and Keith wound an arm around Lance’s waist, his thumb brushing against his cheek. “Does that answer your question?” He asked, tenderly, smiling up at him.

Lance leaned forward and brushed their noses together, a sparkle in his eyes. “Holy shit, yes.” He sighed and leaned his forehead against Keith’s, “I was not expecting that response.”

Keith chuckled softly, his breath still mingling with Lance’s. “What were you expecting, then?”

“I don’t know, I was kind of bracing for a rejection. You’re like super hot and I know I’m annoying.”

Keith ran his hand into Lance’s hair, his thumb brushing along his cheekbone. “Oh, you’re a total asshole. But If we are dating, then you’re my asshole and I am one-hundred percent down for being annoyed by you every day.”

Lance’s grin was almost blinding, his eyes dancing brightly. “Can I get a repeat of your answer again?”

Keith laughed and leaned in, pulling Lance down to press his lips against his in a chaste kiss. “Of course, dork, you don’t need to ask.”

Lance wound an arm around Keith’s waist and pulled him against his body. “Good, because I am going to romance the shit outta you!”

Keith found that it was hard to kiss when you couldn’t stop smiling.

Mi Gente - J Balvin - Matt Steffiania Choreo

I Like It - Cardi B - Kyle Hanagami Choreo

[sweetness47]

Ghosts of Memories

 Pairing Clint Barton x reader

A/N: this is for #MAMTWritingchallenge hosted by @marvelatmytrash (I haven’t decided whether or not to make it a series yet. I will see where this one goes.) feedback is always welcome, as is reblogging.

“You have no idea who I am do you?” paired with calming someone down after a nightmare.

Warnings: Fluff, maybe, language, violence, memory loss, lost love, nightmares, trauma…basically if you’re under 18, don’t read this!

Summary: You are a SHIELD agent, one of the top elite. Not only do you kick ass with weapons and without, you can also control elements ie. Earth, fire, wind, water, electrical current and light. You can’t remember anything past 6 years ago, due to a terrible accident, or so you’ve been told. Doctors say your memories may never come back. So what happens when they do start to return?

Six years ago:

“I’m just going to the store to get eggs and milk, then pick up a deluxe pizza on my way home.” Y/N shouted down the basement stairs to her hubby. Clint peeked around the corner and looked up at her with his best puppy dog eyes. She caved and sighed. “Alright, ham and pineapple, and a 6-pack of Bud Light, but only because I love you and because it’s your birthday.”

Clint ran up the stairs and wrapped Y/N in his arms, and giving her a short, intimate kiss, promising some fun later. She threw her arms around his neck, moaning into his kiss. “Thanks honey. You are really the best, you know that? You kick ass, save the world, and you’re mine.” he whispered in her ear.

She smiled, “Of course I know Clint, and I’m lucky to have you too.” She said, winking at him and kissing him on the nose. “Who else could I get to fix the toilet, help me save the world, and kill all the spiders for me. You’re indispensable.” Y/N giggled as Clint reached for her sides, especially that ticklish spot by her ribcage. She squealed and tried to tickle him back, but he backed her against the wall. “Ok, ok. I give.” He was laughing as hard as she was as they kissed then, both breathless and both exceedingly happy.

As she got in the car, she remembered his reaction that morning as she presented his birthday present, neatly wrapped with an iridescent bow and matching ribbon. As he opened it, and realization set in, a huge grin appeared on his face, and in an instant he was swinging her around, showering her with hugs and kisses, the framed ultrasound picture still in his hand. She was about ten weeks according to the tests, and everything looked exactly the way it should, no abnormalities. It was too soon to know the gender, but she didn’t care. They were pregnant.

She listened to radio as she drove, weather reports and warnings were filling every station she tuned in to. Then she hit a winter onslaught. The sky darkened, and in the blink of an eye a torrential downpour of ice and snow suddenly clouded her vision. As she tried to use her power to lessen the storm’s intensity, another car lost traction on the icy street, and rammed into Y/N’s SUV. The force of the impact caused her car to break through the barrier of the bridge, and plummet head first into the frigid waters below. Blackness and water were everywhere, Y/N tried to move the water and get the car out, but there was too much ice. Instead of moving the car out, the ice pushed it down to the bottom. Her cracked windshield began leaking, the cold beginning to seep in, and without any access to wind, she couldn’t get out.

Desperate to free herself from her seemingly inescapable prison, she used light to melt what remained of the window, bracing herself for the onslaught of arctic liquid that would come at her. It wasn’t enough, the pressure slammed into her, knocking breath from her lungs, not letting her get air before enveloping her. Y/N tried to focus as she swam out the window toward the surface. Finding a small opening still in the layer of ice that covered the river, she came up for air, trying to grab the top of the ice. She could hear people yelling, but was too cold to say anything. Then before she could make the water warmer and get herself to shore, she was pulled under by the current, her head striking the jagged edge of the ice, and her world went black.

Present day:

Y/N stared at the transfer notice in her hand. Why on earth, especially since she really liked her current posting in Ireland, would she all of a sudden need to go to New York. Fuck this shit. Her head began to pound, and she absently grabbed a bottle from her pocket, popped two white T-3’s and went back to cleaning out her room. There was some small part of her that wishes she was normal, with a normal job, maybe a normal family. But noooo, she was a government assassin, and an inhuman, which made her a valuable commodity, and apparently needed in New York. She looked out her window, thinking how much she was going to miss all the lush green countryside and the peaceful walks amongst that greenery.

New York, where the aliens had attacked some time before, and the Avengers initiative was enacted. She knew who Nick Fury was, especially since he was the first person she had seen when she’d awoken from her coma. They had met on numerous occasions since, and each time he had attempted to recruit her to help with the Avengers. But she had declined each time, not wanting to leave Europe. She wasn’t European by birth, but she’d grown to love it here since being re-assigned after her accident, the one where she lost a lot of her life, her memories gone, locked away in the deep recesses of her mind. Doctors said the memories could come back at some point, or they may never return. What was worse, SHIELD files had been erased of her life before. It was almost as if they were hiding something from her, either for mental health reasons, or simply because they liked her better now. And no one ‘knew’ anything, or so they said, even Fury, stating that maybe she shouldn’t keep digging. She had tried social media, phone records, DMV records, anything, and they all came up blank. It was as if she’d never existed before, and it nagged at her conscience.

She was soon packed and on board the small plane that would take her across the ocean. Agent Phil Coulson met her at the airstrip when she landed, to escort her to their base. “Welcome here Y/N.” He extended his hand and she took it happily. Phil was something of a legend amongst the elite agents, having been the force behind putting together the A-team as she liked to call them. And truth be told, she was anxious to meet them, having been a fan for a while now. Natasha Romanova was kind of a role model, even though the age difference was only 2 years, she was everything Y/N aspired to be. There were times she imagined sparing with Widow, just to see who could best who first, though she suspected for as good as she was, Natasha was better, having trained from a young age.

When they finally arrived at the ‘secret’ base, she was shown to her quarters, where she set to work unpacking and changing out of her travel clothes. Making sure her identification was properly displayed, she took herself on a self-guided tour of the facility. It was actually pretty nice digs, and pretty big, much bigger than the Irish base. Not watching in front of her, because she was busy looking around, she walked into a brick wall, which actually wasn’t a wall at all. Thor had been walking back from the cafeteria with some java for the road, when Y/N bumped into him, causing hot liquid to erupt from the cup, and spill all over both parties.

Y/N immediately apologized. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you hurt? Let me help.” And bent down to retrieve pieces of broken pottery that was the cup.

Thor smiled warmly. “No harm done. There is always more coffee to be had. Are you new here?” he asked, seeing your name badge.

Her cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson. “That obvious huh. Yeah, just transferred in from Ireland. I’m Y/N. You must be Thor.” She stated casually, gesturing at his armor and cape, and of course that infamous hammer. Mjolnir was the most fascinating weapon she’d ever seen. Y/N pointed to the beautiful but deadly item in his hand. “I know I can’t pick it up, but can I…well…touch it? Sorry, that sounded weird. It’s just a really awesome hammer.” She blushed more, realizing how stupid that sounded.

Thor chuckled. “Not at all my lady. By all means, feel free to gaze upon the power of the mighty Mjolnir. However I must warn you, it does tend to shock those who touch it, except me of course.”

Y/N raised a brow, now completely thrilled. She reached out her hand and ran it across the Asgardian symbols and craftmanship, and did indeed get a shock. But rather than sting, it seemed to blend into her skin and ignite her own power. Soon her body and Mjolnir were sharing electrical current, the hammer increasing the strength of Y/N’s energy output. Thor watched the interaction, completely taken aback with what was transpiring in front of him. Never in his lifetime had anyone been able to create that kind of power with his hammer except for himself. Now his curiosity was peaked, and he offered Y/N the weapon to hold. Frowning but not unwilling to try, she accepted the gift, and both were genuinely shocked when the hammer allowed her to hold it.

Some of the nearby agents had stopped to witness this event, including Fury and Coulson, and a wide range of expressions filled their faces, from shock, to amazement, to genuine wow. Y/N handed the hammer back to Thor when she saw the attention she had attracted. Excusing herself, she made her way over to Nick Fury and extended her hand. “Sir, good to see you again.” You said with respect, and perhaps a touch of affection. Fury was like the older brother, always protecting her and covering her ass when she dug into files she shouldn’t.

Fury accepted the gesture and returned the handshake. “Y/N. Haven’t changed a bit I see. Still manage to find new and interesting ways to make yourself known.”

Y/N smiled. “Yes sir! Now, on with the tour!” She gave a mock salute, earning a smirk from Coulson and a glare from Fury. He didn’t scold her, but she did make herself scarce, as the tour wasn’t quite done yet anyways.

She had been briefed on the plane with regards to the nature of her re-assignment. Power, they needed whatever they could get, and Y/N’s power was amongst the best in the entire SHIELD world. Talks of aliens and impending doom were everywhere. But the agency seemed especially worried. Whatever. Steady paychecks helped with the negotiations, landing herself a nice raise and bonus incentive. She could only hope that her ‘headaches’ and ‘nightmares’ didn’t interfere with her work. It wasn’t bad now, not like it was when she’d first awaken, but it still happened on occasion. It was like a never-ending cycle of torment, flashes of near death, a storm, drowning. But she could never move past those images. She would wake in cold sweats, shaking, screaming, only to realize she was alone and in no present danger. Only once did the flashbacks happen during a mission, luckily it was Fury and Hill that accompanied her for it, and neither were hurt in the process.

Fury did advise her to see a counsellor after, and she did. But the talks, while they did help some, were only that, talk. Nothing could be done to bring back the rest of the memories. It was just plain annoying sometimes. And times like this, when she was this pissed, were the times where she found exercise to be a good stress reliever. So she made her way around the base until she came across the training room, where she found Nat taking on Steve Rogers. Amused, she stood by the door and watched. Where Steve was fast and strong, Widow was small and agile, both were quick and equally deadly in their own right. Just as Y/N sat down, Steve caught movement out of the corner of his eye and Nat flipped him, taking him out for the count.

Steve got up as you walked over to apologize. “I’m sorry. I distracted you. Good match though.” You remarked.

Nat came over to join. “It wasn’t bad. Don’t apologize though. Distraction can’t be used as an excuse.” Then she looked over at Y/N. “Do you want to go a round?” she asked quizzically.

You raised a brow. “Sure. I’m Y/N. I just transferred in from Ireland.” You shook hands with Steve and with Nat.

“Nice to meet you Y/N.” Nat smiled. “Do you need to change?”

“Nope. I’m good.”

Nat motioned Y/N over to the mat. A few people stopped to watch, including Steve. Y/N put her hands up. “I won’t use my abilities. This will just be hand to hand.” She promised.

It was Nat’s turn to be surprised. “Abilities? You’re inhuman?” Y/N nodded. “That’s where I heard your name from.” She shrugged. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

Nat took her fight stance, as did Y/N. For what seemed like an eternity neither moved, studying the other, watching like a lion stalking prey. Then Nat lunged, her body diving to sweep Y/N’s feet from under her. But she dodged, anticipating Widow’s tactics, and made a beeline for her arm to disable her. She countered, throwing a kick at Y/N’s arm, which was deflected, and coming around with a backhand to attack. Ducking, Y/N landed a small punch in her midsection. Nat quickly brought her knee up, catching Y/N’s chin, causing her to bite her lip. Y/N recovered quick, bringing her leg sweeping low in a circle, and connected with Nat’s ankle. She fell back, but was back on her feet quickly.

Back and forth they went, minutes ticking by, people beginning to cheer and wager on who would actually win. Without using her power, she was pretty evenly matched with her idol. For a while it seemed as though no one would ever win. Then someone else stopped to watch the fight. Someone who went white upon seeing who his friend was fighting. He pushed through the crowds to get a front row seat, unable to believe what he was seeing. “Y/N?” he whispered.

Y/N looked up at the mention of her name, and Nat got the upper hand, setting Y/N up and taking her down with that head-scissor lock flip. Gasping for air, Y/N looked for the owner of the voice that had cost her the match. Then leaning over her, offering a hand up, was a handsome, blue-eyed man that looked like he’d seen a ghost. Only he was staring at her, not a ghost. He kept her hand in his, almost afraid to let go.

Y/N tried to remove her hand, but he held firm, as if she would disappear if he let go. “Y/N. What the hell? I…it’s been 6 years. Where have you been? Why didn’t you come back if you weren’t dead? I don’t understand…” his voice trailed off as he studied Y/N’s confused look. Realization dawned on him then, and he let her hand go. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”

Y/N bit her lip, taking a step back as she shook her head. “No, sorry. Ummm…” Her head began jackhammering in her skull, and she ran, needing to get away from him, from everyone, just needing to be alone.

It was Nick who came knocking on her door. She let him in, only because she knew he wouldn’t go away. He motioned to sit, and Y/N nodded. The flashbacks began adding images, of a man with light brown hair, blue eyes. Holding her, making love to her, kissing her. Not even the T3’s were helping now. With tears streaming down her face, she looked into the eyes of the man she had learned to trust, the man who she was pretty sure had been partially lying to her all these years.

“I want the truth Nick, and I want it now.” Y/N wiped away a tear and glared at the man in front of her. “Who in the hell is that man and why did he act like he knew me?”

Nick sighed. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a USB and threw it on the bed beside her. She looked at it, then back at Nick. Anger slowly seeped through her usually calm façade, and he held his hands up as a peace offering. “These are the files you’ve been searching for all these years. Your life before the accident, your original posting, and everything else you tried to find. That man in the gym, Agent Barton, was your husband of 5 years, and your childhood friend, your high school sweetheart, and your first love. The day of your accident, it was his birthday. Your gift to him was an ultrasound picture of the 10-week-old fetus you carried. A violent storm swept into the area when you were driving to the store, your car was run off the road and into the icy river. You nearly drown. You went into a hyperthermia-induced coma. Your abilities are quite powerful, but ice doesn’t like you. You couldn’t save yourself fast enough. You lost the baby. The memory loss was from a concussion suffered when your head found the edge of a sharp jagged ice chunk. You know the rest of this past 6 years. Everything else is on there.” He gestured to the piece of tech, and got up to leave.

Y/N just stared at the wall, barely acknowledging Nick’s exit. For two hours she just sat there, trying to process everything she’d just heard. Her skull felt like a basketball pounding on pavement. She couldn’t keep her eyes open as the world started spinning. Her body hit the mattress, feeling like lead. Her mind flashed images, dark water, sleet, ice, cold water rushing at her, the current pulling her under the ice, her chest hurting from lack of oxygen, panic. She tried to scream but the water muffled the sound. She flailed, clawing at the ice, needing the air, needing to live. Suddenly arms were holding her, shaking her, a warm male voice was calling her name.

Clint had been walking slowly toward her room, trying to figure out how to talk to her. Then her screams broke through his thoughts and he tore down the hallway, opening her door in less than 3 seconds. She was choking, her breath ragged, like she couldn’t get any air. She was panicking. She was having a nightmare. He sat on the bed and gathered her into his arms, and held her, stroking her hair, whispering soothing words.

She opened her eyes to the man who was a stranger to her, but not a stranger. She nestled into his embrace and cried.

@legion1993 @marvelatmytrash

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #170: “... Though Hell Should Bar The Way!”

April, 1978

Oh, hey, Jocasta is back! Good ol’ unfortunately named Jocasta!

And this is a very good DC Silver Age-esque comic cover. Heroes acting inexplicably only to be sort of explained kinda on the inside. I can’t wait to see how this scenario does not even come about.

Remember the cover where Mantis was protecting Libra from the rest of the Avengers but inside she tried to beat him up for pulling a Vader on her?

Also, “The Return of the Bride of Ultron” is a very Hammer Horror-esque title. Drop the definite article and its basically one.

But enough admiring the cover. Lets get into it.

Last time: Back in issues 161-162, Ultron gave Hank Pym amnesia as part of a weird plan to trick him into turning the Wasp into a robot for Ultron to marry. It was foiled when the robot wife summoned the Avengers with ants and Iron Man threatened to destroy her, forcing Ultron to back off.

But also recently, there’s some unrest in the house of avenge. A series of overpowered foes have been battering the Avengers esteem and as a result one stalwart chums are at each other’s throats. Cap blamed Iron Man for his absentee leadership but then Scarlet Witch went OFF on Cap’s own performance recently.

The Avengers consist mostly of hurt feelings and bruised egos at this point, basically.

So we start with Cap taking his frustration to the gym.

Beast also tries to cheer him up, in his own inimitable way.

Problem: I don’t think Cap has ever been a fan of Beast’s sense of humor. There’s been several instances since Beast has joined the team where Cap has told him to stop clowning.

And he once again does so here.

So Beast tries a different strategy. He offers to tell him about some sexual escapades.

Because in the past, Cap seemed into it. It’s the closest they’ve come to bonding as teammates.

But Cap is in a Mood so he fakes a fall to freak out Beast before catching himself on the uneven bars.

Not cool, Cap.

He then angrily pumps some iron.

Because as someone pointed out to him, he’s been useless lately. And he doesn’t have superpowers unlike some people he could mention so he’s got to keep his few skills sharp.

Beast: “You know, Cap, you’re a lot like Witchy in a way -- you both take everything way too seriously! Now, me, I never take --”

Cap: “Get lost, Beast!”

Rude.

And then Iron Man shows up which just gets Cap more tightly wound.

Iron Man just wants to have a word with Cap in private.

So Beast, in his own display of pettiness, effortlessly picks up the 500 pound weight that Cap was working out with to put it away.

Savage.

Anyway, as soon as Beast is gone, Iron Man tries to start the word in private with Cap but Cap claims to be busy and passive-aggressively starts working out with the mobile stunblaster while Iron Man is trying to talk.

The mobile stunblaster is, of course, a work out machine that follows you around and tries to shoot you with punch beams while you have to block it with special gloves.

I expect that all gyms have one. Its basic workout equipment.

Cap isn’t really receptive but Iron Man manages to get out what he wanted to say.

Iron Man: “Look, Cap, what I came to say --”

Cap: “Let me guess, Tin Man -- you want to tell me I was way off base criticizing your leadership -- since I haven’t been earning my keep lately!”

Iron Man: “No. I came to apologize for myself and for Wanda! None of us have been setting the world on fire lately! She had no right to judge you!”

Cap: “It doesn’t matter! I’ve judged myself... and in my own eyes, I’ve fallen short! Maybe I’ve been lax lately --! It won’t happen again, Tin Man! Never again!”

Iron Man: “Fine! I want you to know Cap... I feel the same way about the job I’ve done as chairman! I’ve made some bad decisions... let other matters occupy time I owed the Avengers... and when I was around, I tried to do it all myself! I guess I felt guilty... and I kept trying to prove my worth! Just wanted you to know -- I’m aware of my failings! I -- I’ll try harder, Cap... or, if you think I should, I’ll step down! You can take over!”

Cap: “Wait! Iron Man, I guess my problem is that I’ve seen too many friends die in battle -- and when it seemed as if your job with Stark outweighed your Avengers’ duties -- as if you were taking your responsibilities lightly --!”

Iron Man: “I wasn’t! But... about Stark. Cap -- I should have told you long ago that --”

Cap: “No... keep your secrets, Iron Man! You lead... I’ll follow -- that’s enough!”

MmmMMMM. That is some good open and honest communication.

I love it. The me who first read this a couple years back was a fool to come off this run with the impression that it was just the Avengers getting their asses kicked and yelling at each other.

Its the Avengers getting their asses kicked, yelling at each other, and then having productive, emotionally honest conversations. It is my JAM.

Canonically, the first Civil War wouldn’t even have happened if Cap and Iron Man had set their feelings out like this.

I like that Cap passive-aggressively working out during this conversation keeps it from being talking heads because we get a bunch of unnecessary ACTION POSES as Cap works out.

But while Cap and Iron Man SOCIAL LINK GO or perhaps SUPPORT CONVERSATION depending on where your interests lie, out in the living room some other Avengers have less dramatic bonding.

Vision and Wonder Man play a game of chess together, Jarvis and Scarlet Witch admiring what good friends they’ve become off-screen. Much improved from existential angst causing Vision to try to punch him a lot and then they have to fight a gravity jerk.

They do, after all, have a lot in common. Like a brain.

But they get a phone call from Hawkeye who reveals that Two-Gun Kid has vanished. Disappeared even!

He tells Scarlet Witch not to bother coming. There’s nothing to find at the scene of the crime. So he’ll come to them.

Meanwhile, in Attilan, the Inhuman city in the Himalayas, Quicksilver is moody. But that’s nothing new, he was like that before.

He’s sitting on a balcony gazing beyond the city.

His wife Crystal asks if Attilan confines his spirit, having to stay in a secret city after all the glory and daring of being an Avenger. The battles, the thrills, the running full speed into a wall and breaking every bit of your skeleton bone.

But just as Quicksilver is saying he would never leave her, he vanishes mid-reassurance.

No, he didn’t run away in the most supremely dickish way ever. Like Two-Gun, he’s been disappeared.

What is going on here?

A story for later.

But for meanwhile we’re back to the Avengers Mansion where the Wasp shows off her new costume.

I don’t know what to say about it. Its not the worst she’s had. You don’t see as many superhero costumes that are orange and yellow. And Jan knows that branding is important because she put W for Wasp all over herself. Her gloves are cut to suggest Ws as are her boots. She’s got cleavage W and an abdomen W too.

Yellowjacket actually warns Wonder Man that if Wasp notices him in civvies, she’ll get him in a new costume so fast!

Wonder Man defers. He’s decided he’s not the costume type.

The thing about the Wasp is even if she makes a costume for someone else, she often makes it to appeal to her own tastes. Like when she made a costume for Angelica Jones, Firestar, with a pluuuuuuuuunging neckline. To Firestar’s lament.

So what I’m saying is that if Wonder Man let Wasp dress him, he’d definitely end up in thigh boots and with W’s all over his clothes.

Although, Wonder Man does become an actor later on who plays oiled up big muscles tiny shorts roles. So he’d probably rock it.

And then some colorful comic relief blue collar characters show up.

Wasp put her foot down and told Hank that she would not live with a Real Doll version of herself in the house so Hank hired Meyer and Mack to move her into his lab in the mansion.

Meyer is a real ‘seen it all’ type. Nothing impresses him. Avengers? Pssh. He moved Neil Sendaka’s ‘pianer’ once. Yellowjacket starts monologuing “[Jocasta] was conceived in evil, and yet while Ultron was transfering Jan’s life into her metal body, she unselfishly gave up her own existence by summoning us in time to stop the process and save Jan!” and Meyer all but taps his watch and reminds Yellowjacket that he’s on a flat rate.

Now Mack on the other hand? Mack is sure impressed.

And possibly discovering he has a new fetish.

Elsewhere in Saugerties, New York, the Guardians of the Galaxy secretly watch over a young Vance Astrovik. They’re sure that any day now evil cyborg from the future Korvac is going to try to knock off Vance to prevent the Guardians of the Galaxy from ever forming.

That is, if young Vance doesn’t manage to get himself killed first.

Since he’s playing baseball in the middle of a dark street and if Charlie-27 hadn’t been there, a truck would have run him over.

How he survived in the original timeline without future people being his guardian angels is a bit of a mystery.

Charlie-27: “It’s a wonder anyone reaches maturity in this idiotic backward era!”

An era where people toss spheroids in the middle of the road and where strange pieces of paper can be exchanged for food items. What strange customs.

The takeaway here is that, yes, the Guardians are busy guardianing Vance Astrovik and even though Korvac actually has bigger fish to fry and their vigil over Vance is misguided, its not pointless.

But meanwhile, back at the plot, Meyer and Mack finish carting the Jocasta crate into Hank Pym’s lab.

And just as Mack is marveling at how ‘real’ Jocasta looks (presumably for someone made entirely of metal with silly metal hair tentacles and also robot eyelashes) the robot girl awakens and OH YEAHS through the crate.

Jocasta: “He has awakened me! He calls! I must go to him! Let nothing stop me!”

Meyer and Mack flee the lab and run into an unhappy Yellowjacket who heard the crash of the OH YEAH and assumes that they fucked something up.

Which is probably not the case.

After escorting the movers out, the Avengers (Vision, Scarlet Witch, Wonder Man, Yellowjacket, and Wasp) run towards the lab.

But listening to the voice in her head, Jocasta finds the button that locks down the lab and then obviously locks down the lab.

Yellowjacket and Wasp managed to slip through the door before it closed. Doors never really bothered Vision anyway. But that leaves Wonder Man and Scarlet Witch locked out.

And the door is really tough! Its made of a special alloy almost as impenetrable as adamantium. Although the fact that it doesn’t get a name here sort of implies its going to be back to the drawing board.

But either way, the whole lab has been reinforced with it. For security reasons.

Scarlet Witch is sure that if she concentrates her probability altering powers, she can get the door to crumble but in the meantime, Wonder Man is going to keep punching like it personally insulted him.

Inside the lab, the three Avengers discover Jocasta up and about and creepy. She talks with Jan’s voice except cold and metallic. (Its never discussed whether Vision sounds like Wonder Man but since his body was the Human Torch’s I think probably not).

Vision isn’t creeped out. Somehow Ultron activated the Jocasta robot from afar and makes her speak like Jan hoping the Avengers will hesitate. But Vision won’t.

Drama is passed down in the family and as Ultron loves breaking Hank Pym’s things, so too will Vision break Ultron’s.

Except apparently Ultron planned for this. When he does the thing he always does and tries to intangible inside the robot to disrupt her circuits, he discovers an anti-matter booby trap.

It fills him with deadly energies and also copious amounts of pain.

Meanwhile, Beast has arrived at the door. He’s been looking for Thor but Thorry no Thor to be found.

That’s not one of his jokes. I just couldn’t resist.

Scarlet Witch is finally ready to do the thing she do and make probability weep but apparently the door has personally insulted Wonder Man by now. He proclaims a grudge match and finally punches it down.

Maybe its because it didn’t initially fall when he reminded everyone that his punches are approximately on the level of Thor’s hammer.

He says that a lot. That and the fact that he was created to fight the whole original Avengers roster.

I think its to remind the audience what Wonder Man’s deal is. But it also fits in with him being insecure, especially since nearly every time he talks about his fists being on the level of Mjolnir, the fight goes bad for him.

Inside the lab, Wonder Man, Beast, and Scarlet Witch find the Vision who tells them not to touch him because of the deadly energies. But that they need to pursue Jocasta.

Who has left the lab and is in the courtyard.

...

So all that effort to punch down the really expensive door was for naught? Did they really have no one guarding the other exit from that room?

Geez.

In the courtyard, Wasp and Yellowjacket fail to do anything to prevent Jocasta from strolling away, punching random plants.

Wasp: “Hank, I’m afraid Ultron’s strategy is working. I can’t bring myself to hurt her! It’d be like hurting myself!”

Yellowjacket: “I -- I know what you mean!”

Lets ignore, for once, the obvious and terrible irony involving future events. Lets go right in and focus on Jan not being able to hurt anything bearing an image of her.

Her one weakness. She just loves what she sees in the mirror too much to ever raise a hand to it.

The two heroes try to use their respective ranged attacks at low power to drive Jocasta back into the mansion but then Yellowjacket makes the mistake these two heroes always make and flies in too close.

She nabs him out of thin air and starts squeeeezing

Then Beast do what Beast do. DYNAMIC ENTRANCE, BOOT TO THE HEAD!

Then because Yellowjacket distracts Beast asking him not to smash Jocasta if he can help it, Jocasta shoots him in the face with eye lasers.

Because, of course, Ultron built her with eye lasers.

The family that slays together, right?

Wonder Man goes to punch her to scrap but she has a force field. Of course she does.

And even though he could punch through it eventually, in the here and now she shoots him in the face with eye lasers.

Scarlet Witch uses her power over nature (I guess she does just have both skillsets interchangably. Neat) to wrap Jocasta up in a tree in much the way a tree does not and cannot do.

Jocasta just flexes her way free. Because she has robot super strength.

Ultron, your wife is too powerful. You’re shaming the rest of us with your unstoppable killing machine wife.

The Avengers regroup and think about this. Maybe if they use teamwork and work as a team, assemble if you will, maybe if they strike as one they can overcome this robot lady.

Before they can, Iron Man comes in blasting.

Not at her, at them.

Iron Man: “Leave her alone! The first Avenger who harms her answers to me!”

And then Thor appears out of nowhere, calling it a long-delayed return (weird time stuff is still going on with him). Instantly deduces a battle is happening and decides that it would be a really cool way to enter the battle if he smashes this mysterious robot woman with his hammer.

I’m not saying that Thor always goes for the move that will fit best on an album cover but I’m sure that it runs through his mind sometimes.

Captain America is confused that Thor doesn’t recognize Jocasta since he was there when they stopped Ultron from putting Jan’s soul in her. And he’s not sure where he’s flying in from since he was just in the mansion minutes ago.

BUT HE HAS TO SAVE ROBOT GIRL!

And he throws his mighty shield and even Mjolnir must yield.

Also, after their little talk, Iron Man and Cap are back in the whole friendly pal/chum kind of thing. Like. Almost exaggeratedly so. Like Cap is making a real effort.

-Iron Man catches Cap after he jumps off the roof to throw his mighty shield-

Cap: “Thanks, Iron Man!”

Iron Man: “Good work, Cap! Took a heck of a chance, though!”

Cap: “Not really. I figured someone would catch me! After all, teamwork’s the name of the game!”

It practically screams I’M GOING TO BE POSITIVE!!

The other Avengers criticize Iron Man and Cap for letting Jocasta go. Which she does by literally walking through the wall. Geez. Ultron your wife is so strong.

Anyway. Iron Man explains the obvious thing. His armor sensors have locked on to Jocasta’s electrical patterns. Obviously they’re going to follow her and she’s going to lead them to Ultron!

Hot damn! Avengers being proactive! Kinda! I mean, Jocasta waking up was on Ultron but instead of just letting the killer robot lurk around somewhere and make a new plan to be murdery and oedipal, Iron Man is going to do something about it!

Unless this is a trap!

But that’s just the hazards of the job.

Also, I guess the cover was more or less accurate. The exact scene didn’t exactly happen but the spirit of it basically. Although Iron Man never blasted Wonder Man. In fact, he apologized that he had to blast near him to stop him.

So this is my second read through this run on Avengers. So like the brown bear I know ALL. But the first time around, I’m pretty sure I didn’t see Jocasta coming back.

I mean, it was only eight issues back. But that’s over half a year. Generally a loose end like Jocasta either comes back in the next issue or is teased throughout to remind the readers that its totally going to be a plot device.

If not, usually the loose end doesn’t come back so soon. And just gets brought back by the first writer who remembers it was a thing.

Apparently Jocasta has just been propped up in Hank Pym’s living room the whole time with Jan growing more and more disgruntled with it.

There’s not much to say about Jocasta herself. She’s kind of like the Wonder Man zuvembie. More plot device than character right now. But an intriguing one.

So next time: more of this. The Revenge of the Return of the Bride of Ultron. But it won’t be called that, alas.

[my-strange-old-book-collector]

The Antagonistic Forces Of Johnlock

I was actually in the middle of writing another post when I realised there is a beautiful logic to the villains of Sherlock. 

It’s not a new concept that Sherlock’s villains serve as mirrors for our main characters, and I love when I find good meta on this. But there is a pattern to these mirrors, that I think we have not talked about - and this is where it gets beautiful: 

Each and every villain is designed to represent one of either John or Sherlock’s weaknesses. Weaknesses that either drive the two apart, or bring them closer to reaching one very specific common goal: love. 

And there is a very simple way of telling which villain belongs to which category...

Sherlock And John’s Narrative Goals

In order to truly understand the antagonists of Sherlock, we must first have a look at what the show is actually about. Lesson one of story telling: protagonists usually have an extrinsic goal that moves a story forward, and a stronger, intrinsic goal that tends to get bullied in the pursuit of the extrinsic one. This absolutely holds true for Sherlock as well:

Sherlock’s extrinsic goal: catching criminals.  Sherlock’s intrinsic goal: love.

John’s extrinsic goal: making a contribution to society.  John’s intrinsic goal: also love. 

Sherlock neglects his emotions and desires in order to be the very best consulting detective. But the underlying motivator for his actions is always the need to protect those he does love.

John being a man of ranks and uniforms, a man that is eager to please and to serve, he fears the social rejection that might come with admitting to his innermost desires, and he deeply struggles to emotionally connect with the people he loves (*cough* Sherlock).

Both Sherlock’s drug addiction and John’s hunger for thrill are symptomatic for how much they deprive themselves of what they actually need. 

Antagonistic Forces

So the story of Sherlock really is a quest for love. And the villains, in addition to being their brilliant villain selves, represent the antagonistic forces on that quest. Take Magnussen for instance: His weapon of choice being public denunciation, Magnussen represents fear of exposure and rejection, which is John’s biggest impediment. 

And so it makes sense that it is John who falls victim to Magnussen right from the start. John gets burnt alive, John gets flicked in the face, and it is John’s wife who is threatened to be exposed. Interestingly though, it is Sherlock who flat out destroys Magnussen in the end. Magnussen’s power over John is literally all in his head and Sherlock is having none of it. 

One of Sherlock’s own demons, on the other hand, keeps reappearing in the form of Moriarty. Moriarty is often seen as Sherlock’s evil side, but I think it is more than that: The constant boredom, the indifference to pain, and his attitude towards staying alive (”so boring, isn’t it?”) make me think that Moriarty represents depression. 

And just like depression, Moriarty is ridiculously hard to beat. In fact, he doesn’t really get beaten, he just eventually stops of his own accord. All Sherlock can do is to survive him, and even that he can only pull off with the help of his brother. And finally, because depression never truly fully goes away, neither does Moriarty, who remains tucked away deep down in Sherlock’s mind palace even after his death. I really, really love all of this. 

There is another villain who manages to shake Sherlock to the core and that is Culverton Smith, the “cereal killer”. His highly-polished “nice-guy” image is a cruel but accurate portrait of John and his compulsion to keep up appearances. 

Smith is so popular that he can literally get away with murder. Similarly, John has become so good at putting up a facade, that we tend to overlook just how harmful this must be to anyone who tries to approach him. It is no wonder that Sherlock nearly falls victim to this particular villain and starts questioning his own judgement. Culverton Smith may represent a weakness of John’s, but he is most hurtful to Sherlock.

A War We Must Lose 

You may have noticed that I haven’t talked about any female villains yet. There is a reason for that - and this is where my inner geek starts weeping for joy. I mentioned at the beginning of this post that there is a pattern to the antagonists. Well, here it is: While the male villains all represent forces that drive John and Sherlock away from love, the female villains do the exact opposite. 

Female villains represent the forces that draw our protagonists towards each other. And if you have ever wondered what The Abominable Bride was about, this is your answer: “The women [..] we have lied to, betrayed; the women we have ignored and disparaged” they are demanding a vote. And it truly is a war that Sherlock and John must lose. 

Take the famous Irene Adler, for instance, who is widely understood as the embodiment of Sherlock’s libido. No matter how hard Sherlock claims to be above such things, she is a clear match for him and Sherlock only just about beats her - for the time being. 

Or Mary, who is technically not a villain nor actually a mirror in the traditional sense. Rather she is a combination of both Sherlock and John. Clever and bad-ass like Sherlock, kind and caring like John, she is the best of both worlds and the connection between them when things become difficult. Mary represents the bond of friendship between the two. 

And so it makes a lot of sense that Mary nearly kills Sherlock while at the same time she is saving his life. It is exactly what John’s friendship does to him: It nearly kills him, but it is also very much what keeps him going. 

Oh, but of all those female villains, why then is Mary the one to die? If Mary represents Sherlock and John’s friendship - what in the world could possibly kill her?

The answer is: Vivian Norbury. Code word “Amo”. Latin for love. Nothing could kill the friendship of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, except actual, proper, unadulterated love. John’s love, to be precise, what with her sweater vest and the tremor in her hand. 

And I adore the idea of love being a bitter old cat lady. (Seriously, Gatiss.) Quietly biding her time, never noticed, never appreciated, fatally underestimated by Sherlock Holmes, she finally has had enough. Bugger the consequences if she can make an impression on the world’s most clueless consulting detective. 

Do note at which point in the narrative this happens: John is utterly dissatisfied in his marriage and he is starting to want out. Even though Mary is the perfect woman for him, it is still not enough, he wants more and catches himself mentally cheating. And at that point, that old, quiet, neglected love finally stands up for itself. John has ignored it for way too long and there are no excuses left.

Except that this is the moment his wife dies and the guilt-ridden John can no longer stand to be around Sherlock. Anyone but him (read more about this here). And this is when Mary, aka their friendship, makes one last appearance: “John Watson, get the hell on with it.”   

Save My Soul. Seek My Room.

For Sherlock, too, there is one more villain, one final problem that he has to overcome: His own mind in the form of Eurus. That genius, detached, over-analysing, and brilliant thing that is locked away in a high-security facility without human affection or physical contact.

What would happen, if those walls would suddenly crumble? Who would get hurt if Sherlock’s mind were allowed to wander freely? 

But as it turns out, all Eurus - and therefore Sherlock’s mind - ever wanted in the first place was to be loved. There is no struggle between Sherlock’s heart and mind - they both want the same thing: human contact and affection. A co-pilot to help fly the plane. Sherlock only has to allow himself to have it.