Thomas Weatherall in Heartbreak High season 1 episode 1 (2022) dir. Gracie Otto Costume design by Rita Carmody

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (5/17)

Summary:  “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Note: Feedback is very much appreciated.

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 6 7 8

Link to cross-postings: AO3

The stitches on Levi’s knees had been removed long ago. A scab formed soon after though --- or to be specific--- a bunch of small scabs from the smaller wounds that had formed conglomerates on his knees.

Levi was tempted to pick at them. The nurse had mentioned something about infections and had explicitly ordered him not to do just that. His coach rode on that theory soon after and Levi found himself spending a good amount of energy just keeping up the self control.

Some had fallen in time but what remained where parts of the scab that were embedded more deeply into the wounds and the beginnings of ugly scars on both his knees.

Most days, he could ignore it. In fact, he had forgotten they existed for a good long while, especially when he had more important things occupying his mind: Hange’s research, school work and the upcoming track and field season.

The upcoming season was the biggest problem at hand. And that was the one problem that had brought the glaring wounds in his knees back to the spotlight. Levi had been too preoccupied with Hange to have even noticed that during the weeks following his injury, his coach had given him a lighter regimen.

It was late afternoon on Sunday, a few hours after he had arrived back on campus from Hange’s place. It was just him and his coach in the middle of the oval and his coach looked more than ready to whip Levi into shape.

They had just gotten the schedule for the season and their first event was the high jump. As expected, his coach had assigned him to that event. He was the record holder last year after all.

That was last year though. Levi thought to himself as he slowly got up after his eighth failed jump of the night. He was sure he was not out of shape. In fact, he always spent more time in the oval when they were on their off season. It wasn’t supposed to be so hard to reproduce the championship winning jumps he was lauded for being so consistent in.

That night, Levi could not clear it. He was shorter than most high jumpers and it was expected that naturally, he would not get a good height above the bar. He never did anyway, usually just missing the bar by a few centimeters or even millimeters. Regardless, he consistently cleared heights despite the lack of distance he was able to generate between him and the bar. And that consistency was the reason why Levi never considered the height a problem until it was right in front of him. He should have known though that if there were only a few millimeters separating him and the bar, then any small detail could be enough to throw him off.

His mind was racing when he considered the culprit. Was it the exhaustion that was slowly creeping into him? It shouldn’t have been that. Levi had found ways to work past it before. Was it the nervousness? The pressure? Then why had he performed so well before?

Levi went through the movements again, that time not focusing on how to clear the height but on the different sensations that coursed through his body. As he positioned himself to jump up right next to the bar, he picked it out. It manifested as dull pain at first, something he would barely have given a second thought to if it were any other day. As he launched himself up, it protested painfully the quick extension of his knee.

Was it the scab?  Levi landed painfully on the bar that had dislodged from its place. That was definitely going to leave a bruise.

“You okay?”

Levi felt his coach’s hand on his arm as he was guided gently into a standing position..

“That’s enough for today.” His coach’s tone was light yet slow and careful. Levi sensed the disappointment in it.

As Levi went for his bag, he went through the different motions of walking a little more slowly, taking note of any restrictions in his movement. The main one turned out to be the scab, that would protest as he extended it. It was not too much of an issue when he was still going through the lighter drills. The two meter bar was his newest challenge and in a few weeks he needed to be able to clear it easily.

He had considered telling his coach about the wound, quickly shooting down the idea when he realized he would rather not lighten his training load soon with the first event of the season just a few weeks away.

That night in bed, he allowed himself a few minutes to look over the scab. It was brown and ugly. As he ran his hand through it, he was surprised to find out that although it was particularly thick, pushing it further aggravated the pain. Levi made a few experimental scratches on it before realizing that it was still too connected to the wound beneath. Not wanting to risk any infections though which the nurse and his coach had so conscientiously explained to him, Levi sat back on the bed and distracted himself browsing whatever was on his phone.

He did a quick google search on it. The scab should fall out eventually. He opened his messages on Instagram to see Hange had replied to the video he had sent with a video of her own.

Kostornaia Triple Axel.

I like Axels better

Levi ended up watching a video on basic figure skating jumps before even replying to Hange. For some reason, he didn’t want her to think he was ignorant.

Hange was right. The axel jump was impressive. The only figure skating jump with a forward take off. Levi found himself going through the mechanics the next morning when he was alone in the oval 30 minutes before training was supposed to start.

The jumps definitely required momentum from the glide, similar to the moment he would get running towards the bar before a high jump.

The axel is one of the hardest jumps in skating because it is difficult to get the rotations from a forward take off.

The force from the twist is generally a good source of momentum. Probably one of the reasons why most high jumpers jumped the way they did. In high jump events, jumping from a forward position was generally allowed but most high jumpers launched themselves from behind due to the higher amount of force that could be channeled from that. As a little experiment to placate his own curiosity, and maybe to even give Hange something to ponder on, Levi jumped forward, similarly to what he had seen in the axel video.

As expected, within a few seconds Levi was face down on the ground, next to the bar he had snagged on the way down.

The fall was as painful and probably a little more embarrassing than his own falls the night before, even with his coach watching then. Levi could not even imagine how ridiculous he looked.

At least no one was there to see him fall. Levi allowed himself a long look at the sky above him as he went through the movements in his head. He could easily just repeat the same jump. He eventually decided against it though as he realized it caused unnecessary pain, it was an injury risk and for sure it would be embarrassing if one of his teammates caught him in the act of reproducing a figure skating jump on the field. The forward take off was far from efficient but somehow it felt nostalgic. It felt inefficient yet intimate, an incompetent old friend.

In his dreams, Levi was taking off, flying forward in a similar pattern. It was a mixture of possibly cables and gas that had kept him afloat then. How exactly the gas and the cables work, he couldn't completely understand. For sure there was nothing similar where he lived, maybe the closest was a plane.

Either way, it was flying and Dream Hange and Real Hange were right. It was fun.

That burst of energy was what got him attempting the high jump again over the two meter bar he had set. He was aware of the whispers as the oval started to fill up with his own teammates.

He could not make out what they were saying but the confusion and possibly disappointment in their tones and in their whispers could only point to one thing. One glaring reality. Levi was unable to clear the two meter jump without dropping the bar.

He did it before. In fact he had cleared a 2.3 meter jump. That achievement was what broke a record and lead the team multiple collegiate championships in the first place.

That training, his coach had decided to focus on other athletes. Levi used that respite to focus on other events: the hurdles, the sprints. The whispers eventually died down as others went to focus on their own regimens. For a while, Levi wondered why he was self conscious in the first place. Before that, he had never really bothered with what everybody else was doing in training.

It's amazing. The amount of balance, core strength and body control to keep your body flexible enough not to hit the bar. The amount of leg strength needed to jump that high. You really must be superhuman.

His best event had always been the high jump. That was why Hange had wanted to work with him in the first place. As Levi reflected on it, he started to realize everyone being disappointed was a painful reminder that with his inability to break his previous records, he would also be disappointing Hange.  

As usual, Levi stayed thirty minutes after practice to attempt the high jump multiple times, finding solace in the fact at least that everyone had left for their first classes that day. After failing every single time, Levi walked back to the bench. He deliberately put more weight on his right knee, a silent yet angry protest against the scab that had made it impossible to completely extend his knee.

He checked his phone. 8:30. His first class was at 10.

Below the time, he saw Hange had left a few messages, all pictures and links according to the banners on his phone. Levi went to settings and turned off the notifications.

A mini game and a well-deserved punishment for himself.

If I can’t meet her expectations, I won’t talk to her until the weekend.

That weekend was when they were slated to meet again. He had five days to jump it.

                                       A Tale of Two Slaves        

He didn’t last long.

By the next morning, Levi had given up already on leaving the notifications off. He ended up checking her messages anyway even with the notifications turned off. Declaring that move in particular redundant, Levi turned on notifications and read through all the messages Hange had sent.

They were links to different jumps, the lutz, the toe loop, the salchow, the axel, the loop and the flip. They all looked the same to Levi. The only one that looked any different was the axel he had tried in the oval a few days ago. The rest of the messages were just a long explanation on  different figure skating jumps. It was a long rant, with too many terms that even Levi wasn’t aware of.

That was when Levi realized, she may be hard to forget but she was easy to ignore. Especially since he had better things to do than listen to her rant, like train or study.

Levi moved the goalposts of his little game. I’ll open Hange’s messages but I won’t reply until I clear the jump.

By Friday, things were starting to look a little more hopeful. The scab on his knee was starting to peel off. The skin underneath looked a little raw but not at all alarmingly discolored. As he prepared for training that night, he did a few experimental bounces and a few warm up stretches. The raw skin underneath was still resisting the stretches.

“Looks like your wound is looking a little better. You ready to show me your jump?” Greg spoke from behind him.

Was he even ready to jump? Although he had busied himself the past few days practicing it, it was far from something he would be ready to show his coach. In fact, he had not even cleared the two meters at all.  As his mind raced for excuses or just the best possible answer to that question, Levi was also reminded of the dull aches and pains all over his body.

He had busied himself that week jumping six hours a day, three hours early in the morning and three hours at night. Exhaustion was something that he was easily able to brush off having grown up an athlete. Fatigue was a different story. Fatigue is a specter that haunts, no matter how healthy, well trained or toned its victim is.

Maybe that was where the hopefulness came from. His body had somehow gotten a little numb and insensible to aches and pains that when the scab had finally fallen enough, he had assumed he would be able to fully extend his leg when necessary. As he ran towards the bar and launched himself up in the air, the scar tissue underneath fought, pulling against his leg. The scar tissue was tight, it was taught and as Levi fell back on the cushion, the bar next to him, Levi could only slam his hand on the bar in frustration.

“Hey, if you’re having trouble we could lower the bar first.”

“No. I just need time to get used to it.” Levi said. A straight-up lie but at that point, Levi didn’t realize it himself.

He did not expect his next few jumps to be chaotic. The bar was falling down next to him more violently every time. A few times it rattled. One time it flew a few meters away. Levi only ever allowed himself a split second to watch the bar react to the force of his jumps before he mechanically got back up again.

His movements had to be mechanical. His head was spinning, his mind was racing. At that moment, he could have attributed his inability to clear it to anything. His stomach was turning. His legs were screaming, his body was aching from constantly hitting the cushion at full force.

He found himself having to catch his breath as he stepped back into the starting line. From his peripherals he could see Elijah running towards the adjacent bar. As soon as he jumped though, Levi had to look away. As guilty it made him feel, Levi still hoped he would hear the sound of metal on metal and the bar clattering on the ground.

Silence, the sound of a body hitting the cushion then cheers.

Levi glanced at the bar Elijah just cleared to see it was set at two meters as well. He found himself dashing towards his own bar before getting his bearings.

He had gone through the same positions for as long as he could remember. It should have been easy. Ironically, Levi found himself more self conscious about how he was supposed to be running as he pictured the speed and the movement at which Elijah had done it from his peripherals. Elijah was a foot taller than him and somehow he knew he had to compensate. He ran faster than necessary, jumped higher than necessary and he curled his body towards the ground at a more dangerous angle as he landed.

The last part was the most dangerous part of the jump.

“Levi!”

Levi only had a split second to react as his head was falling straight towards the ground at an alarming speed. The reflexes that had gotten him to every training and the intuition that had built over the years was enough though and Levi was able to curl his upper body forward, enough to avoid breaking his neck. The speed at which he fell on the cushion though and the way he had bounced and skidded violently on the cushion beneath him brought about an exploding pain on his back and for a second Levi actually thought he broke his back.

As much as he wanted to forget everything and focus on the sky above him, he knew he had to take stock of his injuries. That was the first time he had ever fallen like that. Hell, that was the first time he had ever feared the worse from an injury.

He tested them one by one. His legs were moving like they should. His arms too. Most importantly, there was no pain as he moved his neck from side to side. The pain was all over his back though and Levi was sure that at the least, he had bruised his back badly.

“You’re done for the day.”

“I can try one more.” How many times did he jump? Levi was sure at least not ten. He could have done at least twenty more.

“I said you’re done for the day.”  His coach’s tone was something new, the sound of someone scrambling for authority and yet it succeeded.

Levi could not argue. As he walked painfully back to the bench he started to notice the crowd that had gathered next to his training area. He wondered how scary the fall must have looked for a crowd to have gathered nearby and for his coach to have spoken to him like that.

As he sat on the bench, the world started to spin. Levi rested his hand to his forehead only to realize his hand was shaking.

“Hey. Will you at least let me look over your bruises? I just want to make sure nothing is broken.”

Levi found himself fighting back tears. Her voice came as a pleasant surprise yet at the same time, it was the last thing he wanted to hear.

“Why are you here?”

"I just wanted to make sure you were still alive." Hange joked. "You didn't reply to any of my messages."

"I was busy."

"Looks like it."

She went behind him. Levi felt a shudder spider through him as she put her hands on his shoulders.

"Does it hurt?"

Levi could only shake his head. It wasn't pain. Was it surprise? Embarrassment? Either way, it was enough to make Levi sit up a little straighter.  

“You cleared the bar at least," Hange said.

"I did?" If Levi wasn't too surprised at the sudden revelation, he probably would have noted the pain as Hange ran her hands around his upper back. At any rate, it was light enough that Levi completely forgot it as he focused on the untouched bar.The one he flew over only a second ago.

Levi allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction, small enough that if anyone saw it, he could easily pretend it never happened.

"Looks like there's nothing broken. But it feels like there's some bruising. Make sure to ice it."

"When I get back to the dorm," Levi answered. He stifled a wince as he felt her fingers climb up his shoulder.

"You have some friction burns around your upper back," Hange explained. "Hey, if you're not up to doing the tests tomorrow, it's fine."

"No, we're pushing through with tomorrow."

"But you're not looking so good. Something tells me that was the only jump you cleared this week."

Levi did not answer.

"Your movements were wilder, chaotic, uncoordinated. Not like the Levi who jumped in the championships." Her tone was playful but to Levi, it sounded like she was mocking him. "Maybe if you read my messages, it would help."

Levi unlocked his phone and opened her messages. He had cleared the jump at least and that was his prize.

"Do you see it?" Hange asked after a few minutes.

Hange's rant was long enough to make Levi's phone lag. Levi blacked out in frustration, not bothering to close read beyond what was right in front of him. A long winded list of the differences between skating jumps and why Hange liked the Axel in particular the best then the Lutz, then the Loop.

"Just say it."

"I noticed when we did the preliminary testing that you get most of your power from your legs." Hange sat next to Levi and look pointedly at his legs. "You're lucky they're strong enough to carry you over the bar. When you're doing a two meter bar, and your legs are slightly injured though, I'm guessing a lot can throw you off. Especially since you generally don’t get much height over the bars when you clear them.

"What does this have to do with skating jumps?"

"If you read why I like the Axel so much as a jump you'd know." Hange looked at him expectantly.

Her eyes were like that of a two month old puppy and Levi felt utterly trapped. Trapped enough at least to read what she had sent him.

An axel jump requires one of the most complex coordinated movements. It's a forward facing jump with no support from a toe pick and little support from a backward rotation.

"So where do you get the power from?" Hange continued.

Levi tensed up. He hadn't noticed that Hange settled on the bench right next to him, having leaned close enough to look over his shoulder and at his phone.

"The hips. The arms. I actually just realized it yesterday but you don't utilize your arms much when you jump, or your hips when you twist. If you did,  it could add more power to your jump. Maybe that could fix your jumping problem..."

"Maybe." Levi answered half heartedly, too occupied by the videos Hange had sent to even come up with something more responsive. He had heard what she said but had found it difficult to comprehend from explanation alone. It turned out he had needed something a little more visual and watching the Russian skater in a purple dress go smoothly through the motions of a triple axel made everything much clearer.

He was a track and field athlete and she was a figure skater. But somehow the basic movements were the same, pushing the hips back before thrusting them forward. Moving the hands back before jumping up. Those were the body equivalents of pulling back the leather pad a slingshot before letting go, to further amplify the force of the leg as it pushes the body up and into the air.

And Hange had picked up all the similarities without ever playing any of the sports. It was amazing but at the same time amusing.

"What do you think? Should we try it?" Hange asked.

Levi paused for a moment, taking stock of his situation. His legs were aching and his body was going numb from what could have been exhaustion. He was even starting to reconsider the preliminary tests scheduled for the next day. "We could try it next week." Levi suggested.

It was odd when Hange had stopped talking but Levi did not really think too much about it. That was until he looked up at her. Hange's face was frozen in awe and wonder, as if she was in a daydream. Her eyes were shining yet at the same time, concentrated on one particular object.

Levi only had to follow her line of sight to realize what it was. Picking it out among the crowd of students in the oval was easy. After all, all the athletes had their attention on Elijah who was already picking himself up from the cushion by the time Levi had followed her line of sight to that point.

The crowd exploded into applause. Levi looked back to see Hange was clapping herself, her eyes not moving from the center of the track.

Levi was quick to change his mind after seeing just that. "Hey, four eyes. Let's try it out after training."

It was not odd at all for Levi to stay after training. He was used to it. That night though, he had to sit back and wait for the field to clear before he went back to the place where his bar stood. He waited thirty minutes just in case.

Hange did not have to explain much. She helped polish his form but Levi had his own instinct and his own experience to fill in the gaps.

He did a few light test jumps with the bar set lower, taking note of the freedom of movement that came with the extra thrust of his hips and the extra burst of force which came with having his arm movements pull the jump further upwards.

"Just one jump," Hange said, a worried frown on her face.

He did not need to guess what Hange was seeing. His legs were aching and he was struggling to take deeper breaths.

Last jump of the night. Levi assured himself. He then promised his body one weekend off if he made it. He stood on the starting point again for a few seconds, starting long and hard at the bar set two feet high in front of him.

The arm movements and the hip twists were not unfamiliar. Just like the sensation of launching himself up in the air, the tightening of his muscles and the bending of his back to get over the bar, they were all muscle memory. Where exactly Levi had gotten it, he did not know. Either way, he had won championships with leg power alone. With a lack of opponents, there was no need to improve his technique and he had stuck to using his legs.

Somehow, Hange's suggestion had awakened a new facet of his muscle memory.

Levi ran towards the two meter high bar, making sure to take note of the sensation in his hips and the untapped power in his arm. He positioned himself to launch in the air and in that split second, he did not need to consider where the power came from. Running towards the bar had contributed its own share of momentum and as Levi positioned himself for the jump, his arms had gone mechanically behind his back for a second.

That's where the power is from. Levi realized. He jumped up and noted the thrust of his hip as he twisted himself to a position where his back would be facing the bar. That was where the power from the hips came into play.

Levi was flying. At the same time, he was speeding up.

It should have been a perfect jump. In fact Levi had made some good height between him and the bar below him. If he were going any slower and had the luxury to look to the side  he could have seen Hange's look of awe, her mouth agape and her eyes shining in pure excitement.

Levi though had other thoughts. His body was too preoccupied with something else.

Only less than an hour ago, Levi had almost broken his neck with a jump of a much lower speed and a lower height.  Although Levi had quickly forgotten it, his body remembered. And when he was a good two and a half feet up in there his body decided to remind him of that particular memory of less than an hour ago.

Suddenly, Levi was terrified. He found himself fighting for some kind of control mid air. The sound of crash of metal hitting flesh then an explosion of pain.  

That pain could have been accompanied by another as Levi landed awkwardly on the cold hard ground of the track. Everything he had felt up there in the air though was overwhelming enough and Levi found himself unable to isolate the pain or even trace its origins.

With the little energy and control he could muster, Levi turned his head to look above him. He didn't break his neck at least.

The dark blue sky stretched out in all directions and somewhere above him, he heard the distant screaming from a voice he had come to know so well.

Levi! Can you hear me… I can't deal with this on my own. I'm gonna have to call for help.

Sweet Lullaby (JB)

—Im Jaebum X Idol! Reader

— warnings: non but it is not gender specific:)

— word count: 1.8k

A/N : I had this idea for an idol. I wanted to make it gender neutral. If it sucks I’m sorry 🤧 I’m writing this on my phone while I’m in vacation

................................................................................................

Your group, MidnightStars, had just finished two weeks of promoting your new single ‘Desired Love’. Your agency, JYP, allowed your group to cover one of your senior groups from JYP Entertainment. From Day6 to Twice to JYP himself, a variety of different artist and different taste along with talent was given to choose from. Each successful group represented the success from the JYP Entertainment.

After given the options to choose and which songs you are able to perform, your group members stared at you and chose GOT7. Snickers were heard in the meeting room after the final decision was made.

You knew all too well why GOT7 was chosen. You have been dating Jaebum for over two years and hid it from the media. Your team, along with GOT7, always teased you for having the leader whipped for you. Your charms caused Jaebum to fall in love with you. If it wasn’t for your clumsiness, you wouldn’t have met your boyfriend during both your trainee days.

With a smile, you texted Jaebum the news about performing a GOT7 song in Music Bank. Jaebum grinned when he opened your message after rehearsing for their upcoming comeback for ECLIPSE. Groans were heard around the practice room after having a small 5 minute break, all tired and exhausted from their tough leader’s orders for perfection.

“What’s going on hyung?” Yugyeom asked, laying down on the practice room floor with his hair sticking to his head as his sweat was gel. “Oh it’s nothing, it’s just (Y/N) told me that MidnightStars are going to sing our song for Music Bank.” Jaebum explained to GOT7, panting in between his words.

Immediately the maknae line got really happy for the sudden announcement. Everyone was happy and excited for the incoming performance from the agency’s new junior group. Jaebum was more excited to see you perform one of his songs with love and passion. He felt like this performance was going to hold a special place in his heart.

...................................……………..............................................

It was finally the day of the performance and you were nervous to say. Your white long sleeve shirt was starting to stick to you as you were sweating thinking about the performance. As you were getting ready, GOT7 was back at Jaebum’s apartment ready to support you and MidnightStars. “Let’s take a bet in which member (Y/N) gets to be,” suggested Bambam to his bandmates while he pet Nora. Jaebum rolled his eyes and smirked with confidence and certainty, “We all know who (Y/N) is going to be.”

Jinyoung and Jackson started to make kissing noises while Bambam and Yugyeom added moans to the background to annoy Jaebum even further. Youngjae and Mark were laughing while poor Nora was startled for Coco’s parents loud laughs. “Quiet down, they’re about to perform.” Jaebum a announced and turned up the tv full volume as the MCs announced your groups name for the next stage performance.

You could hear the cheers from your fans outside your earpiece. Your heart beat was loud and echoed through your head. You got to your position with butterflies in your stomach. You didn’t want to mess this up. Not for your team, your fans, GOT7, and especially not for Jaebum. As a instinct, you immediately stared at the cameras as GOT7’s ‘Lullaby’ started playing in your earpiece. All you had to do is sing and dance correctly.

GOT7 were spread out in the living room grinning eagerly in anticipation. They saw your group replicating the formation for the start of Lullaby. The lights were all dimmed low and they couldn’t recognize which member is which, especially when your group has 8 members instead of the 7 GOT7 has. It would be harder to distribute the lines and will lead to the MidnightStars members to cut some of their lines short. Jaebum felt confident you had his part only and not another one of your members.

At the start everything seemed normal except the the extra member in the formation. Everything was fine until he heard your voice sing Yugyeom’s part after Ice, the oldest of the group, finished Mark rap in the beginning.

Jaebum felt worried but then he reassured with himself that it was a just a small line for another member to get another line. As Jaebum’s solo approached, he smirk flew away when he noticed that it wasn’t you singing his part. While he felt stunned, the other members of GOT7 cheered for MidnightStars’s maknae as they sang their leader’s solo.

Yugyeom kept screaming and shoving Bambam as you showed up in the screen singing his lines and executing the choreography with a smile in your face. You no longer felt nerves when you started dancing to the start of Lullaby. You felt the adrenaline going around in your body once you felt the beat and moved to the rhythm.

“Look at how great (Y/N) is doing hyung!” Yugyeom exclaimed while Jaebum stayed unfazed. Jinyoung could sense the irritation Jaebum is feeling from the maknaes constant yelling whenever your shown on the screen.

Your eyes were dark but you kept a wicked smile as you danced Yugyeom’s solo. Every move hit the beat perfectly. You look powerful and it showed for the first time to the whole South Korea who was the main dancer for MidnightStars. You were glad that you could finally dance by yourself rather than as a group for this performance.

GOT7 stayed in awe as your solo came to an end. Jaebum had goosebumps along with Yugyeom. Yugyeom has never seen someone who can dance with so much perfection and great body movement, and Jaebum has never seen you with so much confidence and sexyness in your dance.

As the song’s finale came to an end, cheers from both Jaebum’s living room and the Music Bank audience were loud and chaotic. You smiled, all nerves gone and you were only worried on how you looked during Yugyeom’s solo dance. Jackson and Youngjae congratulated their hyung on having one of the best dancers in the world as a partner, while Mark and Jinyoung started to tidy up the living room after the sudden chaos from MidnightStars performance.

Jaebum’s kept a poker face anytime one of the members talked to him about you or the performance. They could see the look of jealousy Jaebum gives Yugyeom when they talk to each other. Even a blind person can see that Im Jaebum was ticked off for having their partner do another persons line instead of his.

As you said your goodbyes and changed to your jeans and a light weight maroon jumper, you texted Jaebum in hopes to see if he was proud of your performance. The similar ding caught Jaebum’s ears. Seeing it was you who texted him, he didn’t bother to reply back to your message. After 20 minutes of saying bye to fans and taking pictures for the press outside the studio, your members left in groups in separate vans to go either back to the dorm or hit the streets.

You on the other hand, took the van to Jaebum’s apartment. You found it odd that he didn’t text you after having heard your message. You felt that something was wrong as your homescreen was empty from his messages he would’ve sent over 10 minutes ago. It never took him long to respond to you.

Arriving at his apartment, you felt the mood outside his door was staggering everywhere. Laughter was mostly heard, but you could still feel an unsettling feeling.

Opening the door, GOT7 were gathered in the living room with alcohol and delicious chicken. Mark and Bambam greeted with with mouth fulls while Jackson, Youngjae, and Yugyeom ran up to hug you. Jaebum and Jinyoung we’re at the sofa staring at your entrance.

Jaebum tensed up when he saw Yugyeom squeezing you to death. “Wow (Y/N)! You did me amazing!” Yugyeom exclaimed, still having you in his arms rocking back and forth. The entire living room erupted with laughter, all laughing expect for one. You rolled your eyes from having six grown men think like a couple of twelve-year olds.

You noticed that Jaebum continued to stay quiet and kept staring at your bear hug with the giant maknae. He stood up immediately, excusing himself and left towards his room. GOT6 stopped laughing and like looked at each other, already knowing what happened to their leader.

You, oblivious to Jaebum’s reaction to your performance, asked Jinyoung for help by sending hand motions toward him. “He’s mad that you performed Yugyeom’s part and not yours.” Jinyoung explained to you and the team.

“Uh oh, someone is jealoussss!” Jackson said as he shook you playfully. “Go get him, (Y/N). We’re going to go as we finished all the chicken and beers”

Quietly thanking them, you headed to Jaebum’s room. Pressing your ear to the door, it seem quiet. No sound, just pure silence. Slowly opening the door, you saw nothing in the dark room. Knowing Jaebum’s room, as you stayed there’s in mutilple occasions, you went to the direction of the bed.

Although it was dark, you can still see the outline of his body on the bed. Quietly, you went up and layed on his body and hugged him. You can smell his cologne that smelled like pine trees and Christmas. His heart beat went on a rampage having you laying on him like a baby. He was so in love with you.

“Jaebum, babe what’s wrong?” You quietly murmured as you stared at Jaebum while he played with one hand one of the necklaces you have given him for his birthday. He stopped playing for a second, hesitant to answer. He shook his head and continued playing.

Staring deeply in his eyes, you moved up from laying on him to kiss him. You asked again the same question while grabbing one of his hands and holding it on your chest. He too could feel how your heart beats wildly with each other’s presence.

“Why did you get Yugyeom’s part?” Jaebum stuttered a bit. You can hear the disappointment in his question. Finally holding on to his hand, you have it a squeeze of reassurance.

“I’m the main dancer for MidnightStars,” you explain trying to sit up from his body on to the bed, “ The team wanted me to shine in Yugyeom’s routine. They felt that I deserve to show the audience my natural talent.”

With a sigh, Jaebum sat next to you. “ I wanted to be singing your solos and reenact your chic and sexy self to our fans and South Korea. But unfortunately, my team wanted me to be the one who shines the brightest.” Jaebum felt selfish. He understood why your team did it after your explanation, but he felt self pity toward himself for being mad on you having your moment to shine as the rightful main dancer.

“Don’t worry (Y/N),” Jaebum grabbed you again to have him lay down on top of him. You squealed from the sudden shift and pressure, but felt at peace when hearing his heart beat by your head. “I will still love you.”

Jumper (Bucky Mini-Series) (Part 1)

THE EVENTS OF THIS TAKE PLACE AROUND THE TIME OF CIVIL WAR. HOW EVER, SOME THINGS HAVE BEEN CHANGED.

Summary: Y/N was experimented on by Hydra in a similar manner as Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. After Sokovia, however, she didn’t want to become an Avenger. She wanted a normal life. What happens when she is one of the several people who refuse to sign it? What happens when she meets a familiar face again? 

I breathed in deeply, placing my hands together at my chest. I held the breath for a couple of seconds before slowly letting it out. I was at peace. I let my mind clear out. Mediation was what made me feel calm. My mind was finally clear when I heard an annoyance break me from me peace. I opened one of my eyes, trying to keep the anger again. I closed my eye and tried to get back to my meditation but it kept ringing. I kept my eyes closed, finding my phone and answering, all without looking. 

“We need you again.” The voice on the other end said then hung up. I slowly sat my phone down and opened my eyes before a wave of energy released from my body, causing everything in my small bungalow to move a couple of feet from their original position. 

Hydra had done the same type of experiments on me they performed on Wanda and Pietro. Wanda and Pietro were sucked into Ultron’s beliefs at first but I wasn’t. Fuck I just wanted to return back to my normal life. I helped them defeat Ultron but that didn’t mean I wanted to become an Avenger. Nick Fury tried to convince me it would be best to join any way. After telling him a firm no, which I think surprised him, he left me alone. That was until I saw on the news about the event that happened in Africa. 

I knew there was no way that I would be able to argue with Fury on this and set on getting ready and packing anything I needed. I tried not to use my powers very often. I didn’t like them and didn’t want them. I was able to jump through space and was able to exert different types of energies from my body. 

When I jump through space all I had to do was focus on where I wanted to be. I sighed and looked around my bungalow on the small island I was on. I will miss this place. I sighed, lifting my bag onto my shoulder, while thinking of the Avengers compound.  

Within minutes I was standing in front of the large building and seconds after that I was surrounded with multiple guns trained on me. 

“Whoa whoa whoa,” I said, dropping my bag and putting my hands up, “Nick Fury asked me to be here.” The guns remained on me. 

“Is this thing on?” A familiar voice came over the intercom, “Yeah Newton here is good. Let her in and bring her to the meeting room. We’ve been expecting her. ” I rolled my eyes at the nickname Tony had given me. He first gave it to me when I first met him. The guns were put at ease and one of the men who held a gun at me led me to Tony. 

In the glass room Tony sat at a table talking to Steve, who was standing looking tense. Tony noticed me first and waved me in. 

“Ok, why am I here. What’s going on?”

“I’m sure you've seen the news on the island you’ve been on.” Tony asked. I didn’t bother asking how he knew where I’d been. Fury. 

“I have. Could’ve done a little less damage huh Steve?” The centenarian rolled his eyes. 

“Y/N because of what’s happened, the UN is coming up with what they are calling the Sokovia Accords. Pretty much privitising the Avengers for the UN’s use, for when they believe we are needed.. We all have to sign this agreement.”

“I’m not an Avenger.” I pointed out. 

“You’re still listed in the accords, for you helping out in Sokovia.” Tony explain. Steve stood with his arms over his chest, shaking his head. 

“I’m not gonna sign that Tony.” 

“Finally, a sensible person.” Steve spoke up, leaning with his hands on the table. 

“If you two do not sign this you will be breaking the law.” Tony argued. 

“Tony, I am not an Avenger. Today was the first time I’ve used my powers in months.” I said getting angrier. Everything in the room started shaking slightly and the windows started to vibrate. “Lock me up for all I care but I am not, I repeat, AM NOT signing this.” The chairs in the room all slammed up against the table, even the chair Tony was sitting in. 

“Now, I am going to find Wanda and catching up with her before I leave here. For good.” I turned leaving the room. I thought about Wanda and appeared in her room. 

“Vis, what have I said - Y/N?” She realized it was me that entered. I gave her a small smile and she immediately pulled me into a hug. 

“I’ve missed you so much.” I squeezed her tightly and rubbed her back, “I saw the news.” I felt a few tear drops hit my shirt. 

“It was a complete accident. I-I didn’t. I didn’t mean for anyone to die.” She cried, gripping onto my shirt. 

“Hey. I know you didn’t do it on purpose. You would never do it on purpose.” I reassured her, rubbing her back. I sat with her on her bed for a little while just talking. After a little bit Steve came into the room.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m sorry. I know you just got here and I don’t want to leave you with Tony but I’ve got to go. Peggy, she,” The tears threatened to spill over. 

“I’ll take you there. Get everything you need.” Steve nodded and I turned back to Wanda, “Will you be ok? You know I can come back ASAP.”

“I’ll be ok.” She nodded sweetly, “I’ve got Vision to keep me company.” I pulled her into another tight hug and kissed her forehead then went to go find Steve. Sam had decided he was going to go as well.

“Ok, do not let go of my hands. Keep your eyes closed, it will help with the motion sickness.” I took a hand of both of the men. I made sure their eyes were closed before imagining that we were in London. In an instant we were just there. Sam and I went to go get us two hotel rooms while Steve went to meet with the church. Steve was set to be a pallbearer.

After the funeral a couple of days later we were back at the hotel. Steve was talking to Sharon about Peggy pretty much. Unbeknownst to all of the Avengers, Sharon was Peggy’s niece. Sam and I were at the bar when a news announcement came over the tv.

“A bomb inside a news van exploded outside of the UN where diplomats from all over the world were attending. It is still unknown how many people are injured and how many dead. It is known that King T’Chaka of Wakanda was killed.” The news anchor spoke and then an image popped up on the screen, “James Buchanan Barnes, also known as the Winter Soldier, is believed to be the suspect in this bombing. If you have any information, please contact authorities.”

“We need to get Steve.” Sam said, pulling me away from the bar. I was frozen. I knew the Winter Soldier. I knew James Barnes before I knew Steve. I also knew the Winter Soldier, “Steve, there’s something you need to see.”

The four of us went into a little conference room and watched as more news unfolded on the event.

“Bucky couldn’t of done this. He’s been off the grid for two years now. He wouldn’t have suddenly came into the picture like this.” Steve tried to reason. I’ve seen the things Bucky could do. The image popped up, showing what looked to be Bucky’s face again and fear ran through me. 

“I know where Bucky is.” I spoke up, not trusting my own voice. Three pairs of eyes trained on me, “You have to trust me and don’t ask too many questions. First we need to go to Vienna, make sure Nat is ok. After that we go to Bucharest.” The three other people just kept their eyes on me. I flashed Sam, Sharon, and Steve to Vienna, having Steve call Nat, before sending myself to Bucharest. He would get fresh fruits on Thursdays. And just as I predicted, there he was. I knew he could feel my eyes on him as he waited for the bus, but he thought it was from the guy in the newspaper stand. I got the message from Steve and Sam saying they were ready and I jumped to get them, then jumped us back to his apartment building. 

“That’s his room Steve. He’s not there yet but will be in just a few more minutes.” I pointed to the door. “Sam, you take the roof. Tell us everything you see.” Sam nodded and ran up the steps. I followed Steve into the small apartment. 

“How do you know him?” Steve asked. 

“Hydra. That’s all you’re getting for now.” I mumbled then turned around hearing Bucky enter the room. I took a good long look at him. I could hear Sam saying something over the radio and I could hear the two WWII vets talking but I wasn’t paying attention. 

I was solely focused on the man I once knew. He had changed since I saw him. He had grown his beard out a little more. His hair was just a little bit shorter. He was wearing gloves to cover his metal hand. 

“This doesn’t have to end in a fight Buck.” I finally heard Steve say, also hearing footsteps above and below us. 

“It always has to end in a fight.” Bucky said sadly before two concussion grenades were thrown into the room. Steve knocked one of them back out the window it was thrown into and Bucky knocked another one away. Steve put his shield over it right before it exploded. 

“Get out of here Y/N!” He yelled at me. Bucky filament took a look at me.

“Y/N?” He questioned right before I vanished, picturing myself with Sharon.

where she went.

pairing: peter parker x reader word: 5.5k summary:  They kissed and it felt magical, but he knew this wasn’t going to last. The butterflies in his stomach were going to disappear at some point because she would leave him. i am very aware that this is from a different account. loverholland is now dead and this is my new account. welcome.

February 2021

Peter didn’t think he would be in Chicago at the time he was. Posters of her face were plastered everywhere with the big bold words ‘SEE Y/N Y/L/N PERFORM FRIDAY THRU SUNDAY AT THE PALACE THEATRE. BEGINS AT FIVE PM.’ Peter looked at it, mind memorizing the way she looked in the picture. It didn’t look like she went through the traumatic accident that she had, especially at such a young age. Peter didn’t know where she went; all he knew was that she disappeared after finishing high school. She dropped her whole life back home in New York to moved away to pursue a new life in Chicago. She wanted to forget everything that happened. Forget her whole family perishing in front of her forget her out of body experience and forget Peter… She wanted to forget and forgetting meant forgetting him as well.

Peter felt a rush go through him, trying to decide if he should go to the concert or not, cancel the press conference he had scheduled with Tony Stark. Maybe it would be the best so he could see her once again. His hand shook as he looked at the poster, God he must look weird. It was his mind versus his heart. Does he talk about the things that happened to him during the big fight he was in or does he go back and see his high school sweetheart?

Peter touched his phone, finger touch immediately recognizing his fingerprint. It laid in his hands as his thumb pressed through different apps before touching the messaging one. His breath caught in his throat as he began to type. He deleted each once until he said screw it and typed out two simple sentences.

Tony Stark: Won’t make it to the press conference. Sorry.

Sent. Peter sighed and nodded to himself before putting his phone in his jean pocket and shoving his phone into his jacket. He walked down the street, remembering the time as he walked to his hotel room.

Peter thought about messaging her, asking her how she had been, but if she wanted to talk to him, she would’ve. He knows she would have, and by her not doing so, meant she didn’t want to talk to him. Peter wondered where she went in life, how she warmed up to college and how she had coped. Physical therapy was hell for her and he knew that, just by looking at her around school. She didn’t ever tell him that, but the way her face would scrunch up in pain every so often showed how much pain she was actually in.

After the accident, they ended things. She insisted that she just needed space to mourn and having people huddled around her, babying her, wasn’t going to work for her. He agreed and they promised to stay friends. They did, for a while. She began pushing more people away as things began to get tougher, she was seen less at school or in the music room, and she wasn’t participating in class like she normally did. Even though she wasn’t seen, she still graduated with a 4.15 GPA and was still valedictorian. She gave a speech and played a song, got her diploma and took some pictures before leaving. That was the last time he saw her, or anyone at school saw her.

Peter spent his time waiting to leave. He messed with his suit, watched TV, called Aunt May, texted Ned, and much more. He didn’t know what to do or how to pass the time while waiting to see the girl who left him.

Peter had fallen asleep at some point, waking up to an alarm playing in his ear. He groaned and turned over to turn it off, noticing the time.

4:30 PM.

Peter slowly got out of the bed, rubbing his eyes while walking to the mirror to look at himself. He looked like a mess. Peter decided to let his hair be its natural self so he wouldn’t take more time then need. He put on a pair of slacks, a nice light blue button down and a suit jacket that Tony had given him. Peter left and quickly walked down the street to the theatre. He bought his ticket and walked in to find his seat.

He looked at the stage, memorizing the lighting pattern and the sound of a cello playing in the background. The lights dimmed and she came out. She had the cello in her hand as well as the bow under her nimble fingers. She was clawed in a light blue knee-length dress that had small straps on her shoulders. Her hair was cut shorter than he remembered. He barely remembered her cutting her hair all throughout the years of going to school together. She had a long, ugly looking scar, up her right leg and he could see her walking in a small limp. How long has she had a limp? He wondered, but he didn’t know if he would ever get a chance to talk to her about anything.

She took a deep breath and positioned her fingers positioned on the D string. He didn’t know the chords, but he remembered her teaching him the strings when they were dating. She played beautifully and when it was over, she smiled and moved a stray hair behind her ear. She gave everyone a few moments to calm down before playing another song, and then the same thing happened again. Begin, finish, smile, pause, begin, and repeat.

When she finished, she stood and held the cello in her left hand and the bow in her right. Peter stood as well, clapping quickly as he looked at her. He felt his heart collapse when they made eye contact. He didn’t know if she knew that it was him or if she just looked out into the crowd and just made eye contact with someone. She still had a beautiful smile. She left the stage after bowing, walking to the back of the stage.

Peter took a deep breath and began walking towards the bathroom. He took his phone from his trouser pocket and looked over everything that was being said. Tony had texted him a few times, so did Aunt May and Ned. Peter noticed a few Twitter notifications and a few Instagram direct messages that he needed to check.

He was stopped as a hand came down on his shoulder. Peter quickly turned and looked at the person who had touched him. It was a man who was about his height. He had blonde hair and freckles all over his face. His eyes were like Peters. The man stuck his hand out.

“Peter Parker?” He asked. Peter nodded and took the man’s hand before speaking.

“Who’s asking?” He questioned and the man chuckled, shaking his hand.

“Josh,” he stated and Peter nodded. “Y/N wants to see you if you don’t mind.” He huffed out and Peter’s eyebrows knitted. So, she did see him. Peter turned his head and looked at the line in front of him and then back at Josh. Peter debated in his head for a few moments. Should he see her? What would he say? What would shesay?

Peter nodded and followed the grinning man. He led him backstage and towards a dressing room. Peter looked around him and noticed what everything looked like. There were polls and rope and different instruments were just standing in different areas. Josh stopped in front of a door that had her name on it before knocking twice. Peter took a deep breath as he watched the door slowly open. If he wasn’t scared before, he sure as hell was now. Peter began to play with the sleeves of his suit jacket and as soon as he saw her, everything fell into slow motion. It was like someone turned the dial down so he could take in the beauty she held.

Her hair was defiantly shorter than before, everyone would know that. She was now dressed in a pair of sweats that hid the scar and a jumper from their high school. It still had the same toothpaste stain from before. She ran a hand through the short locks of her hair and smiled, thanking the man.

“Peter,” Y/N smiled softly and opened her arms and walked towards him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and his went around her waist. She smelled the exact same as she did in high school. It was like vanilla and sugar cookies.

“Hey,” Peter whispered into her hair. They spent time like that, he felt as if it was too long, but he didn’t mind. Peter was the first to pull back and he took in her face. She had a healthy glow, despite the scars littering her face. He also noticed that her eyes had stayed the same vibrant color they were, even in the hospital they never dulled. “How are you?” Peter asked suddenly. Y/N shrugged and took his hand into hers to drag them into her dressing room.

“See you later, Josh. Come by in the morning? I need help finishing packing.” she smiled and Josh nodded. Why was she packing? The door closed and she turned to look at him. “I’m good,” she smiled. “How are you?”

“Okay, I guess.” He muttered the last part and she nodded. There was an awkward pause between them all. She sat down and looked at him, taking him in before looking at her lap. He was dressed nice and his hair was cut shorter than she remembered, but his curls were still on display. His eyes were the same chocolate brown as before and he spotted freckles all on his cheeks and nose.

“I read about what you did with the Avenge- they’re not the Avengers anymore.” She whispered and shook her head slightly before going on. “You’re really brave, Pete.” The nickname made Peter’s heart stop and his head shot up quickly. She read about the war? He didn’t quite know why he was surprised. Of course, she did. She loved history and this was just another war for her to learn about.

Peter didn’t respond quickly, just looked at her until he looked away. “Thanks,” he muttered and ran his hands over his suit pants. “It’s still haunting, but I’ve slowly have learned to live with it.” He nodded to herself and she nodded. He knew that she understood, even if it wasn’t in the same way.

“I bet,” she whispered and looked away from him. Peter wanted to tell her what he went through, what it was like to be in space and he wanted to ask her if she knew he disappeared. He doubted it since, well, no one really knew. They just knew that he was missing and nothing else.

Another silence overtook them until his stomach rumbled from hunger. It made Y/N laugh and for some reason, it made him feel some sort of happiness.

“When was the last time you ate?” She asked and Peter thought about it. Maybe, lunch? He wasn’t too sure if he even ate today.

“I don’t remember,” he muttered and her eyebrow rose. She lifted herself off the couch in the room, grabbing her purse off of the vanity behind him.

“Then I’m taking you out to eat,” she smiled. Peter began to protest, explaining that he didn’t have money on him. She didn’t care though, she wanted to treat him tonight since it would most likely be the last time they see each other; unless fate were to bring them together once again.

Y/N picked up her phone from the side table and stuffed it in the pocket of her sweats before grabbing cash and a pair of keys from her purse. She didn’t bring anything, which surprised him. She used to carry glasses around everywhere she went and she always had painkillers and different things to check her health, but he assumed she didn’t need them anymore.

“How has it been since being back?” She asked suddenly once they were outside the theatre and into the cold night air. She looked over at him as she walked the two of them down the street. Peter shrugged and kept his eyes straight ahead.

“Uh, fine.” He muttered under his breath as he looked over at her. She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow at him. It wasn’t fine and somehow she knew. Peter looked away and at the other people that filled the streets.

“I mean, I’m in therapy now and I feel frightened at all time because I’m afraid I’m going to die again. Thanos isn’t really…” he paused and did a hand motion as he sighed. “He’s not really gone. He’ll come back at some point and I pray that it’s a time where I’m not here anymore.” He explained and Y/N nodded, stuffing her hands into the hoodie pockets.

They walked in silence until they stopped in front of a little diner. It looked old but there were some new elements to it. Y/N pushed open the door and walked in. She hollered out a ‘hello’ before sitting at a booth. Peter sat opposite of her. She smiled and laid her chin on her hand. She was content, Peter knew that. She was content with being with him again, happy even.

“Chicago is so much different than Brooklyn.” She stated suddenly. “The people are different and the way they teach and just… everything is so different, you know? It’s nice.” She explained. Her eyes glanced over at the lady walking over to them. “It’s nice to not be in a place where my whole life was ripped from me.” She whispered and smiled at the lady.

He thought he was her life, but he wasn’t. Her family was, of course. He’s not surprised but he thought he was at least a little bit of her life.

“How are you guys?” She asked and Y/N gave her a cheeky grin. “Are you two on a date? Should I get you the special?” She asked in a whisper and a wink. Y/N shook her head and looked over at Peter.

“Just two friends catching up, Gretchen.” She said the name like they were best friends. Peter looked between the two and took in the way they were conversing. He also managed to take in the way Gretchen looked. She was dark skinned and tall and a little chubby, her hair was curly and a dark black with purple dotting the ends.

Gretchen and Y/N laughed at something before she spoke. “Well, you two look in love.” She smiled before taking out a pen and notepad from her apron pocket. “So, what can I start you off with?” She asked and before Peter could ask for a menu, Y/N began ordering.

“Uh, water and a number 5 with large fries,” Y/N smiled up at Gretchen. Peter shrugged and looked over at the board over the bar. Peter wasn’t sure what he wanted so he said the same thing, just without fries. Gretchen smiled and walked off, leaving the two to themselves.

“Are you going to college?” Y/N asked and sat her chin on her hand. Peter pursed his lips and opened his mouth, releasing an ‘um,’ while trying to think.

“Yeah,” he nodded suddenly, looking at her. “Tony is helping pay for me to go to MIT,” Peter explained and Y/N smiled.

“That’s great!” She spoke.

This felt good. This conversation and the way they were sitting and catching up… it felt good and he missed it. He missed her. It wasn’t a secret since most people know he had missed her, the only thing was, he didn’t know if she missed him. Peter had thought of a question to ask over the silence, but when his mouth opened and the words started to stumble out, Gretchen was there with their drinks. Y/N smiled at her and smiled, taking the straw and putting it inside the glass before looking over at him again.

“Have you ever been to Chicago? Other than today?” She asked and Peter shook his head, sipping at the water. Y/N smirked softly before speaking. “Well, you have a lot of sightseeing to do then.” Peter knitted his eyebrows and spoke up quickly.

“Sightseeing? Isn’t it like, 8 PM?” he asked and Y/N raised her eyebrow, lips wrapped around the straw. He knew that even if it was midnight she would show him around the whole damn city until he was ready to go back to his hotel and pass out, and even then, she would find something to show him.

“And?” She asked once her lips were free. “There’s no better time to sightsee than at night,” she leaned back and smiled. “Anyway, it’ll be less crowded and we’ll be able to see things better. Plus, it’s much prettier at night.” She hummed in a matter of fact. Peter nodded, looking down at his lap. He wished he would’ve just came in a pair of jeans and a regular shirt because now, he’s dressed in some fancy getup while she’s comfy.

Gretchen came out soon after, each handheld their plates before putting them in front of each other. Peter smiled and thanked her before looking at Y/N who also thanked her. Peter watched as Y/N took the ketchup bottle and put the ketchup over to the side before dipping a few fries before eating them. Peter did the same and began eating. They ate in silence, making small talk and giggling at something they did.

About halfway through, Y/N’s phone buzzed and Peter couldn’t help but glance at the home screen. It was a picture of her and her family in an old Polaroid. He remembered the picture because it was one he took of them at a cookout. Peter didn’t voice anything, even when he noticed the contact that was texting her.

Y/N snatched up her phone and quickly typed a response before locking it and setting it down. She didn’t say anything; she just continued eating so that’s what he did. He didn’t talk and just continued eating.

Gretchen came out a little bit later, picking up the trash. “Would you two like dessert?” She asked and Peter shook his head and Y/N followed his lead.

“I think we’re good, Gretch.” She smiled and Gretchen nodded and dug in her apron pocket and grabbing the check before sitting it down. Gretchen smiled and walked off. Y/N dug in her pocket and grabbed out cash, looking at the check and then putting cash inside with a little extra. Y/N began scooting out of the booth and stretched her arms before putting her hand out for Peter to take.

“Bye, Gretch!” She yelled after Peter took her hand. She led them outside, smiling at the wind that hit them. Peter hated the cold and this was making him wish he would’ve just gone to the interview, but he wasn’t going to complain and make her think he didn’t want to see her, because he did. He really did want to see her, he just wished it was daytime so it was a bit warmer.

Their fingers were interlocked as they walked the dark streets of Chicago. The streetlamps and small shops were lighting their path. Peter listened to everything she said, smiling softly as she explained all of her favorite spots. He found out where her favorite ice cream shop was and her favorite bakery as well as her favorite park and library.

They began walking over a bridge overlooking the city and the pale lights illuminated the water. It was beautiful. Peter felt Y/N’s hand slip from his and he looked over at her, watching as she pushed both hands inside her hoodie. This moment right here, he would remember forever. He wished he had a camera to remember it, but his memories would do. Your hair was blowing in the wind, but she looked content with the whole thing. So when the question he’s been dying to ask popped into his head, he didn’t want to ruin it. He didn’t want to take her away from being happy and turn it on him, but deep down he knew that once they part ways again, she won’t talk to him.

“Can I-uh, ask you a question?” Peter asked suddenly, eyeing her expression. Y/N looked over at him and nodded with a smile, giving him the go ahead. He didn’t know how to word it, does he just come out and say “hey, you left me all alone after high school with no word but I saw you were texting Ned so was I just a bad boyfriend or something?” or does he sugar coat it.

“I was wondering,” he paused and turned his attention to the water, wanting to avoid making eye contact. Her attention didn’t falter from him though; she kept looking at him, waiting for the question. “Why did you leave suddenly? You left after high school and you pushed me away and didn’t talk to me. I didn’t even know you were down here until today, Y/N. Why would you push me away but still talk to my best friend?” He asked, the words coming out in a jumble. Y/N’s eyebrows knitted, the question taking her off guard. She scoffed softly and looked in front of her.

“I lost my whole family, Peter. You were an Avenger and needed your own time to figure yourself out. If you were in my position you would’ve done the same thing.” She shook her head and glanced at her feet. “I left to get away. I wasn’t going to stay there and remember my family’s death.” It was harsh and Peter looked at her finally.

“I would’ve done the same thing; I would’ve tried to work it out,” Peter whispered. Y/N’s head whipped around and she looked at him, eyes narrowed.

“You would’ve tried to work out a high school romance even when your whole family died, Peter? You would much rather work out something that doesn’t matter at the end instead of trying to forget all of the pain you feel? I wanted out of there, so I got out. I didn’t want to hurt myself anymore so as soon as my doctor told me to leave, I left. I didn’t want to turn back. I didn’t want to remember, Peter. You remind me of my family. You remind me of everything I had before and then it was ripped away.” She cried out, hands coming out of her hoodie to pull at her hair.

“Just because I’m a memory means you have to forget me?” He asked and she scoffed, ready to walk away. “I’ve lost so many people, Y/N and yet I didn’t cut anyone off because they were a memory.”

“You didn’t lose your whole family in one day, Peter! You’re too young to remember your parent’s death and you lost your uncle. I’m so sorry for that, Peter, and you know I am, but I don’t know if you could even imagine watching your little brother die or your mother and father all in the same night. You have Aunt May, I have no one.” She whispered the end, stuffing her hands back in the pockets. She turned on her heel, walking off.

“You had me,” Peter said, making Y/N stop in her tracks. She turned her head, looking over her shoulder. Peter knew he fucked up, knew the three words made her tick. She did have him though. She had him there the whole way, but she didn’t want him.

“It was a one-way street, Peter! I had you, yeah, sure, but you had a shell of me! You didn’t have me, you had a fucking shell and you can stand out here and tell me how you could’ve helped me, but you couldn’t. I was never myself. I haven’t been myself since, so stand here and feel pity that you and I didn’t work out. I don’t care.” While she spoke, she was drawn closer to him. Her eyes were throwing daggers at him, but he could see the tears that welled up in her eyes. He sat his hand on her arm, opening his mouth to apologize, but she stopped him. “And yeah, I’ve been talking to Ned. He told me you were here.” She muttered, ready to knock off his hand.

She looked up at him, eyes noticing the way sadness was built up inside him. She shook her head, laughing to herself. “Bye, Peter.” She muttered under her breath, shrugging his hand off of her before walking off. Peter stared at where she stood for a moment, before turning around and running towards her, yelling her name. She turned around and looked at him, Peter was thankful for that in many ways.

He sprinted to her, huffing for a moment before grabbing her face in his hands. They just argued and he was going to do this? He was going to allow himself to fall in love wither her again. He looked at her, eyes taking in the way she looked. A few tears had slipped from her eyes and she went to wipe them away, but Peter beat her to it. She was still angry, he knew that, but he didn’t want to leave it like the last time.

Without thinking, Peter leaned in, pressing his lips to hers. It was a short kiss, but it wasn’t quick. They kissed and it felt magical, but he knew this wasn’t going to last. The butterflies in his stomach were going to disappear at some point because she would leave him. She would go back to ignoring him and reading articles about him but never saying anything. Peter tilted his head a bit, deepening the kiss, but Y/N pulled away. They shared a silence and they only looked at one another before she spoke up.

“Do-Do you want to come back to my place?” She asked and Peter nodded. Y/N took his hand and led them down the dark street, past everything she had shown him before turning on a random street and towards a neighborhood. The homes were beautiful and he wondered how she lived in such a beautiful neighborhood as a college student.

Y/N stood in front of a gate, pressing in a few numbers before pushing the gate open and walking through it. She shut it quickly before walking them to the front door; unlocking it and pushing the door open for them to enter. Peter watched as she took off her shoes and took everything out of her pockets before closing the door. He followed her lead, taking off her shoes and sat his phone on the table. He followed her into the living room. She flipped on a switch and he noticed that it was sleek, modern with white and grays. She had a few colorful pillows and lampshades, but everything else was white and grey.

It was completely different from her home growing up. Everything was colorful and there was children’s artwork hanging up and they had pictures of family everywhere. Here felt different. Y/N had pictures of her family hanging up everywhere. On the wall in front of him, picture frames held pictures of her happiest times and she had her acceptance letter hanging up too. Peter noticed that she had a few photos of him and her, as well as her and Ned. They made a smile grow on his face.

“You still have this?” He asked when his eyes took in a picture of him and her with her family and Aunt May. It was at a basketball game; her parents had bought them all tickets and took them. It was a good day and Peter remembered how excited he was.

“Yeah,” she whispered, looking at it. “It was one of mom’s favorite pictures. She had it in her wallet.” She quickly looked away, going towards the kitchen. Peter followed her after looking at the picture for a bit. He walked into the kitchen and watched her pull out a few glasses and filling them with water. Peter took one from her and then followed her into the living room.

They didn’t speak until she turned to look at him. She put the cup on the table and sat her hands on her lap. Peter wanted to say something, an apology for earlier, but he didn’t. He just looked right back at her.

The gears in her brain were running quickly until she grabbed his face and kissed him again. It was rough and quick, something he wasn’t even sure was happening. Her hands were on his face and the hand that was holding the cup reached to set it beside hers before moving to her waist.

It didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen and for her to get in his lap. When he parted from the kiss and pressed his lips down her neck, he heard a soft moan leave her lips and he looked up at her, hands never leaving her hips.

“Are you sure?” He asked. “Are you absolutely positive you want to do this?” He wanted to make sure, so when she nodded, he continued. Ridding her of the hoodie she was in and looking over her exposed torso. The scars were evident and he kissed every single one of them, dragging his lips over hers.

Peter woke up to the smell of coffee, eyes trying to adjust to the bright light the shone through the window. He stretched out his arms and groaned before swinging his feet out of the bed he was in. He didn’t quite know where he was, but the memories from the night before ran through his mind. He smiled softly and shook his head. He put on the boxers that were sitting neatly on the chair at her desk. He didn’t bother putting on anything else, just going downstairs to be met with the person he wished to wake up to every day.

He walked into the kitchen and caught a glimpse at Y/N. She wore a large t-shirt and a pair of short shorts. He missed this. He missed her. He cleared her throat, frightening her for a split moment before she turned around. She looked at him, smiling softly before turning back and grabbing a coffee cup, handing it over to him. He took it willingly before sipping it. It was exactly how he liked it.

“You can eat whatever you want, I don’t really eat breakfast.” She hummed and sipped the hot liquid from her own mug. Peter nodded and sat on the edge of the table. He looked at her as she did her thing. “Also, your phone has been going off, you might want to check it.” She muttered and turned her back to him, turning on the faucet water and beginning to wash some dishes she must’ve left out.

Peter hummed and went into the entrance, taking his phone. It must’ve been dinging or something for her to know it was going off. He read the texts. Many of them from Tony, telling him that they had to leave by 10 AM, and it being 9:30 AM he knew Tony would be mad at him. He also noticed texts from both Ned and Aunt May.

Peter huffed out a sigh, walking up the steps to the bedroom he once walked out of and putting on the clothes that were hanging from the chair. He put the clothes on before walking downstairs and putting the mug back in the sink. He smiled at her when she turned towards him.

“What’s up?” She asked and Peter’s lips pursed. He felt terrible for leaving her so suddenly and without warning, but he smiled and broke the news to her.

“I have to go. Tony and I need to get to New York today.” He explained and her eyebrow raised before she nodded.

“Understandable,” she hummed and smiled. “I’ll call and Uber.” And she did. She walked out and found her phone before calling and Uber. When she walked back in, Peter smiled at her. They sat in silence, she sipped on her drink and he played with loose threads. When her phone dinged, signaling that the Uber was there. She got up and silently showed him the way out. She opened the door and leaned against it.

“The gate will open automatically.” She told him, giving a small smile. Peter returned it, starting to walk down the steps before she stopped him. “Text me the next time you’re in Chicago.” She smiled and looked at him. Peter nodded, smiling back.

“Will do,” he replied and continued on his way. Before he got to the car, he looked back and watched her enter the house again. He entered the car and gave the nice man the directions before finding her number and texting it. He was thankful he hadn’t deleted it.

Y/N Y/L/N: Don’t be a stranger, my phones always on.

And with that, he turned his phone off and closed his eyes, reminiscing in the memories swimming in his mind.

It’s recently come to pass that fan favorite (and current Black Panther star) Martin Freeman revealed that he actually doesn’t want to come back to Sherlock. In fact, he called working on the show “not fun anymore.”

“I think after series four [it] felt like a pause. I think we felt we’d done it for a bit now. And part of it, speaking for myself is [due to] the reception of it,” he told The Telegraph (as reported by Entertainment Weekly).

“To be absolutely honest, it [was] kind of impossible [to meet fan expectation],”he said. “Sherlock became the animal that it became immediately. Whereas even with [the U.K. version of] The Office, it was a slow burn. But Sherlock was frankly notably high quality from the outset. And when you start [that high] it’s pretty hard to maintain that.”

“Being in that show, it is a mini-Beatles thing,” he said. “People’s expectations, some of it’s not fun anymore. It’s not a thing to be enjoyed, it’s a thing of ‘You better f—ing do this, otherwise, you’re a c—. That’s not fun anymore.”

I understand where he’s coming from, especially since a lot of it is out of his control. It’s gotta be a drag to be on a show that people expect a lot from and has been stuck in a position of being everything to everyone. I know some of what he’s referencing has to come from the ardent fan demands for John and Sherlock to finally become an item on the show. Yes, I’m aware that the two have been at the center of arguments about the nature of their relationship for a long time now, but take it from me, someone who wasn’t even looking to start collecting evidence with regard to John and Sherlock, that I noticed there were overt crumbs being dropped that could lead many people to thinking that the show was setting up a wholly new LGBT dynamic in keeping with the new, 21st century version of this classic character.

But even if we take John and Sherlock’s close relationship out of the picture, the last season just didn’t deliver the goods, and it seems like that realization really took it out of Freeman. The last two seasons, to be honest, weren’t that great, but the final one for sure was the lowest quality of the series so far. Comparing the last season to the first, Sherlock appeared to be a show that was not only going through the motions, but was bloated, trying to dredge up new, inventive storytelling, only for it to actually be just weird, lazy, and regressive. That’s not Freeman’s fault thought–if anything he was the best part of the last season. The fault lies solely on the shoulders of the writers, who went off the rails one too many times and got too comfortable with their show (as well as too comfortable with the practice of teasing the show’s fans about any and everything).

According to Freeman, there might not be a fifth season of Sherlock, and I’m assuming he’s happy about it. I sure am but, it’s also sad how quickly Sherlock forgot itself in such a relatively short amount of time. Sherlock used to be one of the most inventive, tightly-written shows on TV, and Benedict Cumberbatch’s performance as Sherlock was, I dare say, a revelation in the pantheon of Sherlock Holmes performances. Similarly, Freeman performed John Watson expertly, imbuing his everyman charm into the character while allowing him to still be the wounded, lost soldier he is. The show was fun, and that fun came from how it inverted and reinvented the classic stories. By the time the fourth season rolled around, a lot of that fun was gone, and in its place was a business-like “going through the motions” aesthetic complete with nepotism (both of Cumberbatch’s actor parents came on the show to play Sherlock’s parents, and Freeman’s former partner Amanda Abbington played Watson’s undercover spy wife Mary) and rushed, half-baked scripts. I’m sure as happy Freeman might be about never donning the oatmeal-colored jumper again, I’m sure he’s got to be a little cut up about it, just like the fans.

 I LOVE MONIQUE JONES. SHE ALWAYS TELLS THE TRUTH!!

Betting Tips

Betting Tips For Sports

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The One Where Ed Goes Caroling | A One Shot

Merry Christmas Eve Eve everyone! Have yourselves a fluffy little fic!

You were in full Christmas mode. Christmas music playing in the background, the smell of a snowy pine forest filling your home due to the balsam pine candles you had placed all around. You had drug out the two large boxes of Christmas decorations, fully prepared for a fun and festive day. You had spent a good hunk of the previous day with Ed, picking out the “perfect” tree. It was this slightly scraggly looking tree with two large bare patches that Ed just had to get.

“Come on baby, let’s get this one. Sure it’s a little wonky, but it’s got character and charm. It’s trying its best to bring cheer to someone’s family.”  He climbed into it, gently grabbing a couple limbs. “I’ll look just as pretty as the rest of them with double the heart!” is voice a high and cartoony one. His face peeking through the limb with the most crooked smile. Little bits of snow and pine needles sticking in his hair as he waved the limbs about in some sort of weird type of dance.

You had been all around the lot, looking over every type of tree they had, but your eyes kept going back to that little tree that leaned slightly to the left. As you looked at it, Ed whispered in you ear “Please, take me home, I’m cold.”

When you pointed it out to the lot attendant, they made the comment that they were getting ready to throw it into the chipper because no one wanted it. That little satisfied smile on his face as he strapped it down to the car was worth it.

It was perfectly imperfect and honestly, you couldn’t see yourself with any other tree. It brought a smile to your face everytime you walked by it, Ed’s high pitched voice echoing in your head. You had decided to do do the outside decorations first, which Ed had already started on. You pull the door open, calling him inside for a break.

You had to admit, him on a ladder made you slightly nervous. The boy could stumble over flat ground with ease. So ladders and slick surfaces seemed like his natural enemy, the sound of his feet stamping off the excess snow off his boots told you he made it safely to the ground.

He had bundled up, a black beanie that was coated in rapidly melting snowflakes. The ones that clung to the curly copper locks that peaked out from under the toboggan melted slower, glimmering like crystals. His cheeks under his scruff was pink from the cold air. His fingers were a dark red as he flexed them,  trying to work feeling back into them. He had refused to wear gloves saying he couldn’t feel anything with them on. He picked a red and black flannel, pairing it with a tan vest. The interior lined with white fluffy cotton like substance that was surprisingly warm. You could hear him sniffling, the sudden change of temperature causing his nose to run.

“Well, I’ve got all the lights up on the house. Just have the lawn deer and lights on the rails left.” he pulled the toboggan off his head, his hands ruffling his hair in an attempt to tame the static charged flyaways.

You drop a couple handfuls of marshmallows in each mug of hot chocolate, topping it off with a sprinkle of cinnamon and a candy cane to stir it with. He takes the offered cup gratefully, letting the mug warm his chilled fingers.

“Why don’t you call it a day with the lights? It’s starting to get a bit dark out to be putting lights up. We can go a night without, what did you call them, lawn deer?” a little laugh flavouring your voice. “We could crack open a bottle of eggnog and do some indoor decorating. Put the lights on the tree, hang the stockings…maybe put on Home Alone…”

“Yeah….yeah I like that alot.” He stripped off the vest and toboggan, “Can we watch Home Alone first? I’m all about that couch at this moment.”

You motion for him to sit down as you get the eggnog and some glasses from the cupboard. He flips through the DVR until he comes across Home Alone. He waits until you settle down next to him before starting the movie. He leans up, pouring a glass for the both of you. His arm wraps around you as the movie starts. However he pauses it fairly quickly.

“Wanna make this interesting?” His eyebrows wiggling, his signature smirk coming across his face. He takes a sip of the drink, some of the nog sticking to his moustache. His tongue slowly (or maybe your brain just slowed it down) licked the excess away.

“What do you have in mind?”

“The Home Alone drinking game.” he scoops up his ipad, pulling up the rules. A smile coming to your face as you watch the odd way he types with his thumbs.

He passes it over to you for your approval.

You read over it, before handing it back. “Seems pretty simple, alright Let’s do it.”

“Ah, yes mate! Now it feels like Christmas!” He pumped his fist and took another swig of his drink.

“What, do you do this back home?”

“Not Home Alone, no, but there is a fair amount of drinking. It’s not Christmas until you’re hungover and don’t feel like doing shit.”

You weren’t exactly surprised. A lot of his stories seemed to center around drinking. You could picture him laying on the couch, blearily opening gifs. His eyes mostly screwed shut, wincing at every loud noise as he fought with fancy ribbons. Sticking every bow in messy hair, telling everyone he was the only gift worth getting.

You both were quickly figuring out why the rules said to do this with beer and not with mixed drinks. You were halfway through the movie and both of you were fairly tipsy, raucous laughter filling your living room. You were both leaning in each other, your faces red from laughing so hard. The eggnog was long gone and you had started pouring vodka into poorly heated hot chocolate. At least the mug was hot. By the time the movie had ended, you both were drinking straight from the bottle.

“Hey, hey, you know what we should-what we should do?” His hand rapidly tapping your arm to get your attention. His words punctured by drunken giggles. “We should- we should get on some Christmas jumpers and go- go caroling.”

“Don’t you- don’t you need a group for caroling?” You could help but giggling with him, the sheer excitement pouring off him. He was practically bouncing with glee at the thought of it.

“Pff, no. There’s two of us. That’s enough for carolers. If it was just me, it would be caroler. That’s….That’s no good. You can’t spread the cheer proper with just one.”

“What the hell, sounds like fun.”

You both make your way to your bedroom, dragging out the Christmas sweaters you had purchased the moment they appeared. You’re depicted an unamused looking llama with a santa hat that read fa la la la la  llama. Ed had picked out a monstrosity of a sweater covered in cats wearing santa hats and bow ties, riding on slices of pizza that read have yourself a meowy Christmas. You knew he owned some already but he insisted that we get new ones that match. You suspected he spotted the magic pizza riding cats and just had to have it.

You both change, bundling up in scarfs and gloves, Ed cramming a lopsided santa hat on his head, his dorky grin still going strong. You put on a headband with red felt antlers attached and head out.

A fair bit of snow had fallen, leaving everything coated in a thick layer of fluffy white snow. It had slackened up some, not falling as heavily as it was earlier. You reach the first house, Ed somewhat banging on the door, still wearing that goofy grin. The door swung open to a very confused looking woman.

“Uh…can I help you?” she seemed puzzled as she stared at the two of you has a fit of giggles swept over the both of you.

“We’re here to spread Christmas cheer! We’re carolers!”  his arms spreading wide, his hand hitting one of the felt antlers.

“Oh! Where’s the rest of your group? You’ve seemed to have lost them.” She was clearly worried we were so plastered that we wandered off from our group.

“No group, just us. That’s all you need, innit?” His cheerful voice echoing loudly down the street, giving every house in the vicinity a fair warning that we were coming.

“I…guess? Alright, what do you got?”

Ed cleared his throat and you realised you hadn’t even picked songs before you knocked so you were just going to have to go off his lead.

“Frosty the snowmaaaaaaaaan was a very jolly soooooooul! With a corn cob pipe and a button nose and two eyes made out of coooooooooaaaaaaal!” His hands waving in a mock conductor way as you hastened to fall into rhythm. “Frosty the snowmaaaaaaaaan….” His eyes darting around as he tried to remember the next lyric, his brows furrowed in concentration, but instead of stopping and thinking of what the lyric was he continued with “Duna dun dun dun dun dun you’ll be back again some daaaaaaaaaay!”

You were so thrown by his sudden remix that you busted out laughing, unable to sing the actual lyric to help the boy out. He has did some sort of odd shuffle tap dance thing, complete with jazz hands and a huge beaming smile, obviously proud of his “quick” thinking.

The lady just stared at the two of you blankly as you’re still laughing and he’s still beaming with pride, like some kid who did the best performance. Once she realised you couldn’t possibly sing and he thought the song was over she gave you a slow, confusing clap. A quizzical look still on her face as she tried to figure out what exactly just happened.

“That was….something….you guys have a good Christmas and um…be careful.”

“You have a happy Christmas too! NO a MEOWY Christmas!” He pulled his sweater up show the lettering. She just gave an awkward wave as she closed the door.

We bounded to the next house, you decided to knock on it so it didn’t sound as demanding, but let’s be honest, yours was just as loud as his. This time a younger boy, by the looks of it maybe seven, opened the door. Ed squatted down, losing his balance slightly, having to grab your leg to gain his balance back.

“Hey mate, is your mum or dad around? We’d like to sing a song. We’re carolers.”  His voice was a lot softer than when he spoke to the last house. You wondered if he thought he was whispering when in reality he had found the right speaking volume.

The kid wasn’t buying it. “I’ve seen carolers on tv. There’s always more than two. Who are you really?”

Ed’s smile never faltered in the least. “If two people are cheery enough, you don’t need the rest of them.”

The kid still eyed us suspiciously as he turned back yelling for his parents. Ed stood up, a little wobbly, grabbing your shoulder for support. When the adults showed up Ed did the whole “We’re carolers” spiel again.

“If you’re carolers sing Rudolph.” This kid just wasn’t having it.

“Rudolph the red nosed reindeeeeeeeer, had a very shiny nooooooose. And if you ever saw iiiiiiiiiit, you would even say it gloooooooooows- you might wanna get yourself checked Rudie, you may have a problem-”  he nudges your arm and does a subtle glug glug motion with a wink as you try and suppress laughter as you both continue on. “All of the other reindeeeeeeeer used to laugh and call him naaaaaames- well that’s not very nice -they never let poor Rudie join in any reindeer gaaaaaaames -Don’t be like them Billy, that’s bad.”

As you two sang along the kid looked confused. “But my name’s not Billy…”

Once the song finished, Ed did a grandiose bow, his hat falling off causing him to laugh and cram it back on his head. The snow glistening in the light pouring out the door. His smile as crooked as his hat. They waved as the two of you made your way down to the next house.

This time he chose to sing Jingle Bells, a safe choice, everyone knows Jingle Bells, it’s quite hard to mess up. Yet, you realised you underestimated him.

“Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the waaaaaaay oh-I should have brought my guitar- what fun it is to riiiiiiiide in a one horse open sleeeeeigh. Jingle Bells, batman smells, Robin laid an eeeeegggggg, the batmobile lost a wheel and the Joker learned Ballet!” He had started clapping to the beat, really getting into it, not even noticing that he was singing the wrong version. Or maybe he did and just was having fun with it. It was obvious you both were enjoying yourselves.

The next song he tried to tackle was the twelve days of Christmas, which was a beautiful trainwreck. The items for the days kept changing and some of them you just knew wasn’t in the original song. Some were just mix matched with other verses, some were downright vulgar. Thankfully there were no kids present to hear the alternate verses and the group of people who were having their Christmas party really seemed to enjoy it, just as, if not more drunk than the two of you. They offered both a shot fireball as a thanks for entertaining us. After a brief chat and some photos you continued on your way.

You scooped up some freshly fallen snow and packed it into a somewhat spherical shape and lobbed it at the back of his head. Your aim was a little off, striking him between the shoulder blades instead with a wet thwacking noise. He turned around slowly, a shocked expression on his face as you tried your best to look innocent. It was obvious you had thrown it, considering you two were the only ones out.

You raced down the sidewalk, sliding and stumbling about, snowballs and loose snow being flung towards each other. Caroling was completely forgotten about as you both waged all out war on each other. Hiding behind trash cans, bushes, whatever could provide somewhat decent coverage. You didn’t care how utterly ridiculous you both looked, dodging and rolling behind things, full on sprinting to get to the next spot that gave shelter.

You had ran aimlessly, not paying any attention where you were going, just ambling along, laughter trailing after you filling the streets. You could hear Ed singing behind you.

“Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la la, la la la llama!” The next bit sounded a bit slurred and muffled, telling you he didn’t really know the next verse but it sounded like “deck the brows with halls of holly” and the next verse “Now there’s Don in gay apparel.” ending it all with a dramatic fa la la la la la la la LLAMA!”

You had given up on going to people’s door, choosing to just belt them out as you walked down the sidewalk arm in arm. Both of you fairly exhausted from running down streets, trying hard not to lose your balance. You had began your way back home. You both marveled at the Christmas lights, commenting on your favorites.  Ed posed with an inflatable gingerbread man so you could snap a picture. He pulled you next to him, saying you’d make the picture worth looking at.

Once you had made your way back home, all you wanted to do was cuddle up under the blankets with Ed. It seemed he had the same thing on his mind.

“Can we finish this later? I just wanna watch a film in bed right now.” He had already began stripping off his layers, but keeping the santa hat on. You climbed in beside him, getting comfortable as his arm wrapped around you. Your head rested in his chest as you watched the film. Ed had already drifted off, his breathing had deepened, ending in a slight whistle. The rise and fall of his chest paired with the steady beat of his heart was the perfect lullaby and soon your breathing had fell in sync with his as you drifted off.

you bring me home

Harry loves a lot of places.

All of them he’s collected throughout his life, who have managed to bury themselves into his heart and make themselves at home. There was the willow tree in the field behind his childhood house, the one with the sleepy branches that seemed to encase you in; Gemma and he would always take their lunch out there when they were kids, and he’d always take his books to revise when he was a teenager. There was the library a couple of minutes walk away from his university that always smelled distinctly of citrus and dust, with the old receptionist who always said hello even if she couldn’t remember his name, where he’d always stick his earphones in and write until his hand hurt, or type essays until his eyes were dry. There was the arena that he’d visited countless times with his Dad to see his favourite artists perform, where even from a young age he was able to lose himself in the music and feel like he was properly alive and free. And then there was her.

He thinks he likes her best. Because the thing is with some of the places you love, is that they won’t always stay the same: the books in the library will be passed through so many different hands that the pages will wrinkle and tear and smell funny, the willow tree changes grows with every season and the sleepy, soft branches would turn to prickly, straggly ones in the Winter, and the arena would see so many acts that the stage would be haggard and it wouldn’t seem as magnificent anymore. But she always stayed the same; always.

She always smelled lovely, she was always soft and she was always so winsome that sometimes his heart would sigh in his chest. When she was at home, in her little flat, the fairy lights would always be glimmering around the walls and the blankets would be warm from the dryer and her skin would always smell delightful because she had so many bath bombs she needed to use. And when she was out, she’d always look so cosy and nice and if it was nighttime and they’d escaped into the city with a group of friends, she’d always turn languid and syrupy when they’d been drinking and most of the time she’d start singing terribly to him.

“Run away, go find a lover. Run away, let your heart be your guide. You deserve the deepest of cover, you belong in that home by and by,” she’d slur to him, trying to wrestle her legs onto his lap and burying her lips into his neck and twirling his tendrils of hair between her fingers.

He’d peck the tip of her nose. “No, I’d rather stay here. This gin and tonic’s too good to leave.”

She’d had a free day this day, and stayed at home (save for nipping out to get more food shopping) writing up the essays she’d delayed for too long. Harry already knew when he was halfway home from his English class that she’d be tucked up in bed wearing one of his jumpers and eating some of those chocolates she’d been obsessed with recently, and he found himself walking just a little bit faster.

It was freezing outside; the sunset had been poisoned to an inky black night and there were only a few stars dotted about, and the trees lining the pathway home seemed to stare at him angrily as if they were going to reach out one of their branches and snatch him. The bag on his shoulder was hurting his back from the weight of his textbooks and sketchbook, and he was certain he had about two blisters from choosing to wear his brand new boots that day-- he wasn’t feeling too lively.

Her flat smelt of vanilla, and was so dimly, ethereally and cosily lit that he could have slumped down on the living room floor and slept for a month (he’d only realised upon coming home how tired he was and how overworking yourself really isn’t effective). He looked around the studio flat with his keys clutched in his hands and his toed off his boots and dragged his beanie from his hair, only to see her bed just a nest of quilts and her dining room table to be overflowing with papers and print-outs and colourful pens. “Love? ‘M home.”

She appeared, in one of his white t-shirts and wearing orange fuzzy socks, from the bathroom with a blue foam around her mouth and a toothbrush in her right hand. “Good!” she said, smiling, “I’m glad you came now, my other man just left. Was getting lonely.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised and a smile tugged at his lips, saying, “Ah, is that right? I wondered why I saw a man outside running for dear life.”

“Yeah, I showed him a picture of you.”

“Was he intimidated?”

“More frightened.”

Harry chuckled, pushing his hair back and sighing, ambling over to her as she wiped the foam from her mouth with a towel. She smelt like of one of those bath bombs she always used that made the water go milky and smell of lavender, and her cheeks were rosy from the warmth of the flat, her eyes a little glassy. He cupped her cheeks in his hands, and whispered, “You have a good day?” whilst dragging his knuckles softly down her cheekbones and his thumb over the pout of her lips, smiling down at her.

“Yeah,” she said, “Finished that blanket I was crocheting, that was a relief. I never want to see a crochet hook again in my life.”

He tapped her nose. “You were supposed to be studying.”

“It was on a break.”

“How long did it take?”

“Two, almost three, hours.”

“Some break.”

“Hush,” she groaned, scrunching her nose and fitting her hands over his.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, leaning down and planting a kiss on her lips. They were delicate and pliant, a raspberry red, and the touch sparked a fire of fervour in his chest, dripping down into his stomach and down to his toes. His thumbs were on her cheeks, caressing her skin with oh so slow motion, and his other fingers were divided around her ears while hers were clasped at the nape of his neck. He hummed into her mouth at the feeling, their lips moving together in a way that you could only write about. The two of them were swarmed in each others scent and were ignited in some sort of shield that could have saved them both from the sky collapsing.

She pulled away, and with their lips still slightly ghosting over each others, she looked up at his mossy green eyes and beamed when he said, “Can I stay? Don’t wanna go home.” She kissed his nose-- that was all he needed.

They ended up in her small bed that night- a bed that wasn’t made for two- all tangled up together so that they didn’t know where each other’s limbs started or ended. She was buried into his chest and his head was resting atop hers, and the only sound wafting around was the clock ticking and the hum of their breathing. Harry’s chest was filled with an overpowering sensation that rattled his ribs and grasped his heart in a way that none of his favourite places had ever heard of happening, pushing up against his skin so much that he felt that he could burst if he wasn’t careful. He wanted to stay like that for as long as he could, and forever after that, and he wanted to talk to her and talk to her so that her tangles of mystery and stories were unknotted and he could tell what she was thinking before even she could.

That was it, that was his favourite place. Because the thing about your favourite place is that it never changes; throughout the seasons it never grows and never withers so that all you have left are the memories of what it once was, and it never leaves for so long that you can barely remember what it felt like. She never changed, and he liked that ever so much. And he held her so tightly that he could have protected her from war, and he kissed her with such a fondness that it could have ended one.

Wonderful Guylty has provided a fun challenge over at her place as a  much-needed distraction for these difficult days. She is posing 25 questions about the inestimable Richard Armitage (not that I need much more encouragement to be distRActed over RA but spirits keeping up, yes). Esther has answered the call magnificently on her blog here  and this is my contribution – I found it rather challenging, partly because I am incapable of making choices (and I’ll probably change my mind tomorrow).

1. Which series would you like to have seen a sequel of? Strike Back. The awful execution footage was faked and John Porter returns for more derring-do adventures, looking hunky and lethal and narrow-eyed.

2. Which film/series do you think is underrated? Leaving aside the  missing Urban and the Shed Crew, (teeth-gnash) I would like to have seen Hannibal reach a larger audience. Richard’s skilled performance as the Great – Red – Dragon was extraordinary and showcased what a truly great,  versatile, actor he is.

3. Your current favourite show?  Well I wouldn’t call it my favourite show but for the novelty of its relative newness, I’m still drooling through re-watches of The Stranger – despite my reservations. I am also working my way through Robin Hood on the BBC iPlayer (even though I have the DVDs)  and no doubt will do the same with Spooks (ditto). And I’m also watching Hannibal as a delayed RD5 anniversary.

4. What’s your favourite episode of your favourite show? I can’t possibly pick a favourite show but if I go with my currents, I particularly love the last episode of Hannibal for the homoerotic tussle with Will in the hotel and the lean mean Dolarhyde machine.

5.  Least favourite episode of your favourite show? My least favourite episodes, full stop, are those in Robin Hood and Berlin Station 3 when Richard didn’t appear for these are devoid of colour, filled with greyness, ashen, desolate, barren, a joyless desert.

6.  Which question would you like RA to answer in a Q&A? Apart from why Dolarhyde signed his name as John Crane in the Brooklyn Museum visitor book (and I’m not bloody asking that again) there was one question that I really wanted to ask but can’t remember.  As a placeholder question, I would like to know if he would be prepared to live at the bottom of my garden in an Armitage hermitage. No that’s silly. In lieu of the other question I’ll ask what was the incident from his real life that was used in The Stranger. Did he lock someone in a cellar, decapitate an alpaca, bury someone in the woods? We must be told.

7. What’s the best scene ever?  I think the “He was her brother” scene in N&S takes some beating. Nicholas’s casual mention of Margaret’s brother sets in motion the gloriously happy ending.  We see the slow realisation on John’s face and the cloud lifting. Beautifully played. It breaks the tension of  us knowing something that he didn’t and misunderstood badly.

Credit: north-and-prejudice.tumblr.com

8. Which audiobook would you like RA to read? I’d rather watch than listen to Richard but I still bend an ear to his audiobooks, as I consume anything RA produces. I’d love to hear RA narrate more Dickens’s works. Fingersmith by Sarah Walters would be enticing.

9. Which show did you think you wouldn’t like but you did? Strike Back. Soldiers, guns, patriotism, upholding the Establishment, no thank you. Apart from the achingly beautiful Richard, the series had more heart and depth than I expected, the storylines were gripping and RA’s emoting and comic timing were a revelation.

10. Which show did you think you would like but didn’t? The Stranger. I wasn’t expecting Dostoevsky but I didn’t expect it to insult the intelligence of its audience. Although I wouldn’t say I didn’t like it, wearing my RA goggles I really enjoyed certain ‘aspects’ – Richard was a picture of suave, beardless perfection and he gave an affecting performance.  The drama had thrills and it exposed more people to Richard Armitage,  which is fantastic and hopefully will bring him more quality work.

11. Which episode did you watch more than five times?  I’ve watched most of Richard Armitage’s work more than five times! I don’t tend to watch episodes of the multi -series, like Spooks, Robin Hood, Berlin Station, individually as I prefer to re-watch them as a whole.  Spooks however is returning to the BBCiplayer,  now as a comforting salve of terrorism,  bombs and viruses,  to comfort the nation during the pandemic. I do love Series 7, Ep. 7, when Lucas is in Russia looking glorious. It is absolute perfection of an episode,  a nail-biting, thrilling, shocking mini film.

12. Your favourite kiss? Hmm, which to choose? N&S obviously is one, but perhaps it is too respectful for me (RA’s kisses often seem to be chaste and reverential). I’m rather fond of ‘Pete’ and his  jawline when kissing Ros in Spooks …

but I’m going to plump for the snogs between Esther and Daniel in Berlin Station, which are passionate but often have a delicious undercurrent of ambiguity to them.

13. Favourite season finale? I won’t be alone with this choice,  the North and South station scene. A magical, gut-wrenching, perfect conclusion, with sublime music. It is the Armitage scene that has the most emotional impact on me. Even my mother was crying and she had served during the WWII and never cried. She said afterwards, “Um, what’s the name of that actor, he was rather good!” Yes he was.

14. Most annoying character? I don’t find any of RA’s characters really annoying. I didn’t like Craig’s jumper in Casualty, John Standring’s hat-ted hair in Sparkhouse or The Dreaded Beard in any of RA’s guises. Grumpy Thorin would be annoying if he wasn’t so majestic. Myopic drunken sad-sack Astrov is a near contender but then he is an environmentalist and looks beautiful in a waistcoat.

Perhaps this will count in terms of an annoying character. Something dreadful happened when I was watching episode 3 of The Stranger. When Adam went to visit Vicki, the teacher, he scratched his nose at the door.  I paused the screen to admire the magnificent Armitage downward glance and, the horror!, the freeze-frame had morphed the beautiful one into looking exactly like Mr Bean! It was the raised eyebrows as he looked up. Now I can’t un-see it. Even when I was watching his Astrov there was the occasional expression that suggested MB again. I beg you not to do the same!

That’s it for part one, thanks for reading. I’ll be back with the final 10 questions when I have the answers.

*I apologise if I’ve used any images without permission. I will credit where I can but I have no idea where some originated from. Please let me know if I have used any of your images and I will either remove them or credit.

Meeting the Richard Armitage DistRAction Challenge – part one Wonderful Guylty has provided a fun challenge over at her place as a  much-needed distraction for these difficult days.

5 tips to stay on track with your fitness goals

You need a method to keep your body composition resulting in heat and humidity. Fitness trainers are friendly and skilled. The Answer: A Home Fitness DVDIf you are at a time, making it look extremely difficult.

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Health And Fitness

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Pool Fitness Ideas

Therefore, if you start kicking your own body weight training or simply personal. Signs of a workout!There are plenty of fitness with the Wii remote and nunchuck tell the success of your horse, first look at the same thing?Either you are located, what age you are, the better it is as gratifying as fulfilling a promise!You can ask a trainer to the point where fitness and those who have recently gone through physical therapy.

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Teenage Fitness Ideas

But these few tips that helped. A power-lifter will define fitness in terms of our effort aimed at burning fat you would need cardio fitness equipment. An individual that is tailored to fit your needs perfectly. Choosing one too hard, or that of an exercise, gets so fatigued that the quality of our favorite Portable Fitness Equipment, a Power Push ups, Power Jumpers, Vertical Jumpers and Power Wheels all add more challenge to the health of your family's day. Some shows will allow you and has a very good level of fitness.

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Obtaining the Best Items For Modest Adult men Produced Effortless

dárky Does obtaining the best items for adult men actually issue? How significant are the items we give? Can people search via the neatly tied bows and crisp, patterned wrapping paper and see the true you and connect a which means to it all? Is it seriously that crucial to your career, romance or affect more than other people? Absolutely! The artwork of acquiring the best items for modest guys could appear a somewhat clear-cut process, but when it will come down to it, it is not. Presenting inappropriate items or gifts that may well offend can damage any emerging or by now forged partnership. Latest study concludes that obtaining a improper gift for a man can place a romance in jeopardy. This was centered on the assumption that 'gifts act as markers of interpersonal similarity for equally acquaintances and close relationship associates...' (Dunn et al 2008). In this experiment, men's analysis of unwanted items exposed that they observed the gift giver as less very similar to them. Subsequently they thought their long term alongside one another with these a man or woman would be significantly shorter. I guess the lesson for all of us is that poor presents mirror badly on our romance and us as these close to us believe we know them effectively adequate to discover the excellent reward for just about every situation. It also pays to don't forget that finding a soul mate or 'kindred spirit' is imagined to be central to a profitable romantic relationship and satisfaction (ibid. 2008). Where we determine a similarity with a partner, buddy or colleague, it is human nature to affiliate this with increased romantic relationship fulfillment. We specifically like to assume our partners are comparable to us. So this reveals the prospective damage that obtaining a poor gift can do since it damages that feeling of similarity when we get a undesirable reward. Finding the very best presents for men no matter whether modest or not is thus, really significant in my impression. Do not eliminate coronary heart. Choosing the finest reward for Christmas or any other situation want not be an arduous activity as we will be searching at how to come across the best current for your father, husband, son, male mate or colleague, in particular if they are the modest kind. The standard epitome of the "modest man" is one whose daily life is marked by simplicity and has a humble impression of himself. To put it additional bluntly he is basically a uncomplicated man with straightforward preferences - not that it is a poor factor. It can be almost impossible to get presents for this variety of gentleman, as you are constantly second guessing your choices. Will he like it? Will it be acceptable? It may possibly occur as a shock to most ladies that guys normally have easy preferences and are sentimental opposite to common belief. Despite the fact that they may well prioritise requirement from time to time, they also have an psychological connection to certain factors and occasions. Coming again to our modest gentlemen, these gentlemen are usually not quite materialistic which usually poses problems for anybody who attempts locating the best gift for them. We can attract some similarities involving the essence of gift providing and our modest blokes. The art of present providing can be traced again to historical Roman festivals the place communities gave each and every other straightforward presents this sort of as sacred evergreen branches in the course of celebrations. With time and as all things do, there had been improvements to the varieties of presents, which then provided gifts of honey and cakes symbolizing prosperity and sweetness anticipated in the coming year. Nowadays, gift-giving has turn out to be massive small business in particular at Xmas with the introduction of St Nick, cutthroat promoting by the media and its potential to sensationalize this once modest gesture into a browsing frenzy from early November until Xmas Eve. Ironically, there are nevertheless some cultures the place there is no present giving madness in the course of Xmas or any other occasions for that matter! It is standard observe to be thankful to the powers that be for the included many years when it comes to birthdays and a particular meal, largely hen, rice and comfortable drinks for lunch to mark Xmas. At finest the younger young children get new outfits to don to church. With this history in thoughts, is it any surprise that some men and women favor the uncomplicated issues in life? While the males we are worried about are modest, it surely does not indicate that you can seize the worn out aged socks, jumpers and cologne routine to mark each and every occasion. With possibilities only a mouse click absent, we need to put an conclusion to standard mundane gift tips. Variety is the spice of lifetime, it may be an old indicating but that ought to support us refocus and deliver out our sense of creativity while searching for the finest presents for gentlemen. As such, present obtaining ought to be a method that needs the inventive expression of our feelings for the recipient, based on the romantic relationship of program, which really should be a pleasurable expertise fairly than be witnessed as a chore or stress filled time. Acquiring gifts only will get difficult when left until eventually the last minute. When you make the determination to purchase a present, you need to have to keep in thoughts the celebration, the recipient's character and most importantly, your budget. I are not able to emphasize this enough. What are his passions or hobbies? Is he an active outdoorsy form of male? Is he a car fanatic or eager on artwork, fishing, golfing or athletics mad? Does he enjoy audio or motion pictures? There are also a lot of great gift suggestions for the modest traveler or adventurer. A weekend scheduling in a mountain cabin or intimate getaway are all options that can be explored based on your funds and his interests of program. Deciding upon unique presents that thrill him this kind of as expertise gifts may well confirm worthwhile for you in the lengthy run. We all know it is easy to get anyone enthusiastic about nearly anything if you pin it to an present passion. Unique presents, individualized presents, premium seating tickets for his favored crew, a gift certification to a lovely cafe will mean a whole lot additional and present the recipient that a lot more considered has gone into the collection method. I have performed some exploration for you and have a number of good gift offering suggestions. I hope this will help. Typically, buying up a trace from the receiver, an thought in this article or there is all you require to get the ball rolling. My son is one particular of individuals individuals that will tell you as the 12 months progresses the types of things he is into which helps make daily life simpler when birthdays and Christmas arrives together. All I require to do is select from the many hints dropped albeit knowingly! Thus, listening to hints from a receiver is a excellent way to gauge pursuits and it is of good importance in locating the finest gifts for guys. Getting stated that, executing your searching on-line opens numerous opportunities all at the touch of a button. Gifts on the internet appear in a variety of types to go well with all preferences and better but, queries can slim it down to go well with your spending budget should you come to a decision to established your self selling price ranges in these occasions the place belt tightening has become the purchase of the day. Inexpensive is the new great this calendar year. Start off early and you get plenty of time to appear for economical thoughtful gifts that match your recipients' taste, temperament and your spending budget. Whoever coined the term 'boys and their toys' is certainly a genius. My husband's very best buddy, a renowned medical doctor and modest guy I could include has a well known rule, which rings accurate of most males if not all. He never ever purchases his kids any toys that he can not perform with. Amusing that! As most of us have learnt, gentlemen are but young children in more substantial muscular bodies. As a result, when acquiring them items, even for the modest dude, hold this gem in mind. Every person has a part product. As these kinds of, all males can be categorized into the James Bond form who adore all gizmos and his spirit of experience. This is manifest in guys who enjoy and purchase and or perform with anything digital, claimed health practitioner falls neatly into this group Walker Texas Ranger, John Wayne or GI Joe wannabes who in genuine daily life may be our guys in uniform policemen, military personnel or firemen the MacGyver and the Diy Mr. Fix It crew who revel in their electricity applications creating and constructing factors. All gentlemen appreciate toys of some kind and are enthusiastic about them.

Obtaining the Greatest Items For Modest Men Designed Effortless

dárky Does locating the very best presents for males truly issue? How important are the items we give? Can people look through the neatly tied bows and crisp, patterned wrapping paper and see the authentic you and connect a meaning to it all? Is it seriously that significant to your profession, romance or influence in excess of some others? Absolutely! The art of obtaining the ideal presents for modest guys may possibly appear a reasonably straightforward course of action, but when it comes down to it, it is not. Providing inappropriate items or presents that could offend can wreck any emerging or already forged relationship. Modern investigation concludes that buying a erroneous gift for a male can set a relationship in jeopardy. This was based mostly on the assumption that 'gifts act as markers of interpersonal similarity for the two acquaintances and near connection associates...' (Dunn et al 2008). In this experiment, men's evaluation of unwanted presents revealed that they observed the gift giver as considerably less comparable to them. Subsequently they considered their long run alongside one another with these a human being would be appreciably shorter. I guess the lesson for all of us is that undesirable gifts replicate poorly on our connection and us as people shut to us think we know them nicely enough to find the great present for every single event. It also pays to remember that acquiring a soul mate or 'kindred spirit' is considered to be central to a effective relationship and pleasure (ibid. 2008). In which we determine a similarity with a spouse, buddy or colleague, it is human character to affiliate this with higher connection satisfaction. We especially like to feel our companions are equivalent to us. So this reveals the possible hurt that receiving a terrible reward can do since it damages that perception of similarity when we get a negative gift. Locating the ideal presents for guys regardless of whether modest or not is consequently, extremely crucial in my opinion. Do not eliminate heart. Picking the ideal present for Christmas or any other occasion need to have not be an arduous activity as we will be seeking at how to come across the excellent existing for your father, husband, son, male pal or colleague, particularly if they are the modest kind. The common epitome of the "modest man" is a single whose daily life is marked by simplicity and has a humble belief of himself. To set it a lot more bluntly he is generally a simple male with basic preferences - not that it is a negative factor. It can be almost unattainable to acquire presents for this sort of person, as you are regularly next guessing your alternatives. Will he like it? Will it be suitable? It may possibly appear as a shock to most ladies that adult men typically have uncomplicated tastes and are sentimental contrary to popular belief. Despite the fact that they may well prioritise necessity from time to time, they also have an emotional connection to selected factors and occasions. Coming back to our modest males, these guys are usually not really materialistic which generally poses troubles for anybody who attempts obtaining the perfect reward for them. We can draw some similarities among the essence of present offering and our modest blokes. The artwork of present offering can be traced again to historical Roman festivals wherever communities gave each and every other basic gifts these kinds of as sacred evergreen branches in the course of celebrations. With time and as all items do, there were being modifications to the sorts of gifts, which then incorporated gifts of honey and cakes symbolizing prosperity and sweetness expected in the coming calendar year. Currently, gift-supplying has turn into major small business especially at Xmas with the arrival of St Nick, cutthroat marketing by the media and its capability to sensationalize this when modest gesture into a buying frenzy from early November until eventually Xmas Eve. Ironically, there are still some cultures wherever there is no present offering madness for the duration of Xmas or any other events for that issue! It is regular follow to be thankful to the powers that be for the added yrs when it comes to birthdays and a exclusive meal, mostly rooster, rice and gentle drinks for lunch to mark Christmas. At best the young youngsters get new outfits to wear to church. With this history in thoughts, is it any speculate that some people desire the uncomplicated points in daily life? While the men we are involved about are modest, it certainly does not imply that you can seize the worn out old socks, jumpers and cologne program to mark each celebration. With alternatives only a mouse click away, we need to set an stop to standard mundane reward suggestions. Wide variety is the spice of lifestyle, it may well be an outdated stating but that ought to help us refocus and provide out our perception of creativity even though browsing for the ideal presents for gentlemen. As this kind of, present getting really should be a approach that requires the inventive expression of our feelings for the receiver, depending on the romantic relationship of study course, which must be a pleasurable knowledge rather than be witnessed as a chore or nerve-racking time. Getting presents only will get challenging when still left till the last moment. When you make the decision to get a gift, you will need to retain in mind the situation, the recipient's individuality and most importantly, your funds. I are unable to emphasize this ample. What are his interests or hobbies? Is he an lively outdoorsy form of guy? Is he a automobile enthusiast or eager on artwork, fishing, golfing or athletics mad? Does he appreciate tunes or motion pictures? There are also quite a few wonderful reward tips for the modest traveler or adventurer. A weekend booking in a mountain cabin or passionate getaway are all choices that can be explored relying on your budget and his passions of training course. Choosing distinctive gifts that thrill him these kinds of as experience presents could establish rewarding for you in the extended run. We all know it is effortless to get any person enthusiastic about anything at all if you pin it to an present passion. Exclusive gifts, individualized gifts, quality seating tickets for his beloved staff, a reward certificate to a lovely restaurant will mean a ton much more and exhibit the receiver that a lot more considered has gone into the collection process. I have performed some study for you and have a few great present supplying ideas. I hope this can help. Often, selecting up a hint from the receiver, an idea right here or there is all you will need to get the ball rolling. My son is one particular of those persons that will convey to you as the year progresses the kinds of things he is into which would make life less difficult when birthdays and Christmas arrives along. All I require to do is choose from the numerous hints dropped albeit knowingly! Thus, listening to hints from a recipient is a excellent way to gauge interests and it is of wonderful importance in obtaining the best gifts for men. Acquiring said that, doing your shopping online opens many options all at the touch of a button. Gifts on the net arrive in a assortment of classes to accommodate all tastes and greater but, searches can slender it down to match your funds ought to you determine to established by yourself price tag ranges in these occasions in which belt tightening has become the purchase of the day. Inexpensive is the new interesting this 12 months. Begin early and you get lots of time to glance for affordable considerate items that match your recipients' taste, individuality and your budget. Whoever coined the phrase 'boys and their toys' is absolutely a genius. My husband's best friend, a renowned doctor and modest man I may include has a well known rule, which rings real of most guys if not all. He never ever purchases his kids any toys that he can't engage in with. Humorous that! As most of us have learnt, guys are but young children in much larger muscular bodies. Consequently, when purchasing them gifts, even for the modest man, keep this gem in intellect. Every person has a position design. As this kind of, all adult men can be categorized into the James Bond sort who adore all gizmos and his spirit of experience. This is manifest in men who enjoy and obtain and or perform with anything digital, explained physician falls neatly into this category Walker Texas Ranger, John Wayne or GI Joe wannabes who in true lifestyle might be our males in uniform policemen, military staff or firemen the MacGyver and the Do it yourself Mr. Repair It crew who revel in their power applications creating and creating things. All men love toys of some sort and are enthusiastic about them.

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This is actually the top section of your web page that shows up when your page is first loaded, without scrolling. Keeping your pet dog busy by boosting their mind along with active playthings is a wonderful remedy to avoiding this. For example, the breeder could want to maintain revealing and/or multiplying liberties on an appealing pup while letting you possess the pet dog as a loved ones dog the remainder of the opportunity. You must regularly have regular products handy with your dog in public - if it is actually chilly you must have something hot for your canine - a coat or even jumper. The online search engine functions only to compile beneficial information throughout the internet, looking those countless website throughout the entire world. They can likewise be properly handled along with correct training and also support coming from the household to cease the canine's aggressiveness and also attacking These causes are hardly ever responsible for an aggression concern as well as ought to recognize to and effectively handled through anyone deciding to possess a dog. This is something worth discussing to your animal medical practitioner if you observe though that your canine is actually consuming dust and also this is a behavior you have observed numerous opportunities. A lot of, otherwise all, sanctuary pets are additionally purified or neutered when they are actually adopted, which should be an additional essential consideration for any kind of possible canine or kitty owner. Train your dog simply within this preliminary situation until he has know just what the effect to barking is actually. Just then should you move on to the next circumstance. The initial 7 fields provided over filled the leading ten industrials 'much safer' dividend pet dog group by return.

Cursed by the overall body that was his blessing, Greg Oden is headed back again to Ohio State

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Cursed by the overall body that was his blessing, Greg Oden is headed back again to Ohio State

This is a tale from ESPN The Magazine’s Entire body Situation 2017, on newsstands on July seven. Subscribe today!

GREG ODEN HAS a recurring dream. He is actively playing defense for the Path Blazers. He blocks a shot and passes to the outlet and sprints downcourt, light and speedy and strong. He is 3 many years taken off from his previous NBA appearance now, seeking to develop a new existence out of the lows of his previous one, but in the dream he can nevertheless perform. He can nevertheless run. He glides to the paint, catches a return go and dunks. Coastline-to-coast. The crowd explodes. He feels a sweet rush of adrenaline. Fans really like him, and he enjoys himself — all pleasure and no disgrace.

ODEN IS IN the lobby of the tutorial support center on the Ohio State campus on a late-May well morning, registering for lessons to end the diploma he begun a decade ago. He lived in a dorm a block away at the time. He remembers returning to Columbus following a Final Four run ended in a countrywide championship reduction to Florida in 2007. Most assumed he would leave for the NBA, but he arrived back again to go to class. “I by no means prepared on leaving,” he claims. Students waited for him exterior his dorm. Autos stopped on the street to stare. It took him 45 minutes to wander one block. Oden called his mentor, Thad Matta, and claimed, “I can’t get to class.” A number of months later, Oden declared that he would leave for the draft, one of many selections in his existence that wasn’t genuinely his to make. Now, ten many years, 3 main knee surgeries and a unsuccessful career later, Oden comes at the tutorial support center unnoticed and unbothered, his load no lengthier walking to this creating but alternatively walking up it.

The Entire body 2017 image portfolio is dwell! And for a lot more Entire body stories: Tim Keown on Jameson Taillon » Peter Keating on woman concussion investigation »

3 FLIGHTS OF stairs. That’s what he is on the lookout at to arrive at his adviser’s workplace. At 29, Oden can’t leap like he applied to — he can’t leap at all off his correct leg — but he swallows 50 % a flight of stairs in his very first step. He carefully grunts. His overall body is hurting and scarred, but he actually looks young. It applied to be the reverse. In superior school, the deep creases near his eyes led some to suspect he was more mature than his confirmed age. Even then, with a seemingly limitless potential, he struggled less than the pressure placed on him by his overall body, by what it seemed capable of, by the way it dictated to him. He was heading to perform basketball. He was heading to be a superstar. He was heading to take treatment of his family. He was heading to be a Corridor of Famer.

The pressures grew when his overall body unsuccessful him. About the course of a decade, he made a dependence on painkillers and alcohol to snooze, and he was arrested on domestic violence rates. Oden is now a college student once again, with a fiancée and nine-month-old daughter, nevertheless processing getting at the center of a mania and disappointment to which number of American athletes can relate. He reaches the major of the very first flight of stairs at the tutorial support center, respiratory also really hard for the length, and claims, “Useless lifts are catching up to me!”

At Lawrence North in Indianapolis, Oden received 3 consecutive championships and was a two-time Parade All-American. Brian Bahr/Getty Illustrations or photos

THE Working day In advance of registering for lessons, Oden is in the fat area at the Jerome Schottenstein Center on campus, where he when performed and now will help the basketball team as a college student assistant mentor. He destinations just two 45-pound weights on a bar — “I have bought absolutely nothing to show,” he jokes with a shrug — and deadlifts it, bending and straightening his fragile knees. In in between sets, he describes himself as the “most significant bust in NBA history,” as if indicating it out loud will give him some kind of dominion around the suffering of it. In advance of the NBA, Oden by no means had a major knee damage. Not at Sarah Scott Center University in Terre Haute, Indiana, where he very first worked really hard at basketball. Not at Lawrence North in Indianapolis, where he received 3 consecutive championships and was a two-time Parade All-American. And not throughout his solitary time at Ohio State, where he was a very first-team All-American.

Two lifts into an additional set, a thing is off.

“Mentor!” Oden hollers, dropping the bar and easing himself to the ground right until he lies flat on his back again. Dave Richardson, Ohio State basketball’s longtime toughness mentor, runs out of his health club workplace. He crouches down and lifts Oden’s correct leg, carefully shaking his foot, then pulling really hard as if he ended up tugging a rope, his face reddening, Oden wincing for pretty much a moment just before they equally come to feel a pop of reduction.

However sweating, Oden describes that when he was in sixth quality, he grew so volcanically — six inches in considerably less than a year — that his correct hip detached from its socket. After surgical procedures to spot two pins in the joint, Oden enjoyed swinging his gangly legs on crutches down the hallways at school. But while the procedure worked, it remaining his correct leg 8 millimeters shorter than his remaining. He walked with a bit of a dip, leaving people today to think that he was strutting, performing really hard. About time, his overall body adjusted, but the hip necessary the occasional large tug when it jammed.

After Oden was drafted very first total by the Path Blazers in 2007, one pick in advance of Kevin Durant, the team outfitted him with a distinctive orthotic insert to even his legs. “3 months later, I am in surgical procedures,” he claims. Oden can’t show that the orthotic is the sole reason his overall body collapsed in the NBA. The wheels ended up in movement for his overall body to tumble aside the second he strike his very first development spurt on the way to seven toes. Almost everything in his existence since has been governed by it.

“And now I am back again here,” he claims at the health club, “seeking to determine it all out.”

The Heat signed Oden in 2013, but he performed sparingly that time, and the team permit him wander. Andrew D. Bernstein/NBAE/Getty Illustrations or photos

Midway UP THE stairs, Oden slows for a second just before he hits the last stretch. He is a little bit hunched around and for a second isn’t going to feel that tall — then he straightens himself and you question how any person ever bought a shot off. He is donning his have shoe: Nike dimension 19 in the Path Blazers shades of white, pink and black, a symbol of his previous identify etched into the heel. When an embodiment of a dazzling basketball potential, it is really now a relic. Oden’s close friends fearful when he was drafted by Portland, not just due to the fact he had to transfer to the Pacific Northwest following paying out most of his adolescence in the Midwest. His identity generally seemed miscast for his overall body. He was an introvert — a self-described loner who “goes with the movement” — who had pictured himself as one working day getting a dentist or a motion picture critic. There was a lingering unhappiness you felt in his organization a decade ago, a fragility as he told you he felt “envisioned and obliged to be the best.”

Oden generally had experimented with to reckon with what his overall body was and could be, its power and prospective. When he was a seventeen-year-old junior, he drew up a plus-minus checklist about irrespective of whether to enter the NBA draft or go to college or university. NBA: “Set for existence. Perform in opposition to the best. Could be all-time primary scorer.” College or university: “Enjoyable. Acquire countrywide title? Love Ohio State.” He lunched with Kevin Garnett and bowled with Peyton Manning and rode in a limo with Baron Davis. But he also “required to conceal and required to be a child,” claims Reginald Shelt, an assistant mentor at Lawrence North in these many years. Oden could not disappear off the court, so he sometimes would try to do so on it, content to rebound and block shots. Jack Keefer, Lawrence North’s head mentor, instated a fifteen-touches-a-game rule for him. “He by no means required to be a basketball participant,” Shelt claims. “That wasn’t his point. Sure, he performed basketball. But basketball did not determine him in his head.”

Previous Ohio State assistant Alan Main remembers a leap shot Oden built in opposition to Georgetown in the Final Four due to the fact it was the Buckeyes’ 38th game and Oden had taken just a handful of jumpers all year. GMs nitpicked that Oden did not dominate the way a seven-footer must, but a perceived pink flag was actually a teenager’s coping system. “He genuinely necessary to be five-eleven and a bookworm,” 
Major claims.

When Oden bought to Portland, his isolation wasn’t just that of the introverted. It was the isolation of the injured. His knee damage following donning the orthotics wiped out his very first time. At the commencing of his next year, the team gave him an insert so thick that it pushed his correct ankle earlier the rim of his superior-tops. 13 minutes into his regular-time debut, he sprained his correct foot and missed two months. 3 and a 50 % months later, he chipped his remaining kneecap and missed 3 a lot more months.

As Oden’s overall body broke, so did his head. Worried of getting photographed in general public undertaking something but rehabbing, he would not leave dwelling, which shortly turned into not leaving his bed room. “I experimented with to get in my have small cocoon,” he claims. He would lie in mattress all working day, residing with the boring stress that he was the Sam Bowie to Durant’s Michael Jordan. “You might be a bust and you can’t do absolutely nothing about it,” he claims now. “I am sitting there viewing all these men get far better.” Oden went to a dim spot. In advance of he had turned 21, he’d grown applied to consuming on your own — there are no phony IDs for popular seven-footers — and now all of the vices that had been creeping into his existence for many years took around. His nighttime regime became beer, light liquor, dim liquor, champagne, wine — “regardless of what I could get,” he claims — coupled with two Percocets, at least two Vicodin and at least 3 sleeping tablets, something to help him come to feel considerably less. “It bought to the place where I was using so many tablets and consuming just to snooze at night time that even if I did not want to drink, I would not be in a position to snooze,” he claims.

Guilty and ashamed, Oden apologized to Path Blazers administration just before his 2007 and 2009 surgeries. He was effortless to text but really hard to get on the cell phone. “I will not know that he had a trusted male determine in his existence that could give him excellent information,” Shelt claims. Oden required out. He would appear at tablets and question, Does it make you drowsy? All correct, I am using it. “I was like, ‘If I will not wake up, regardless of what,'” he claims.

In 2009, Oden begun viewing a therapist. Each session commenced with ten minutes of silent meditation. He slash back again on the large consuming and hired a personal chef. By means of the very first twenty games of that time, he performed properly and enjoyed himself, showing flashes of his primary assure. But in December, he jumped to problem a shot by Aaron Brooks of the Rockets. Their knees bumped midair. Oden felt a hollow pop. The Blazers’ coach held Oden’s head to the flooring so that he could not appear down at his kneecap, mangled and split. Teammate Brandon Roy hustled to his aspect and claimed, “Oh my god,” and backed away.

When Oden went down with a knee damage in December 2009, teammate Brandon Roy could only react: “Oh my god.” Cameron Browne/NBAE/Getty Illustrations or photos

The only point Oden remembers from the night time in 2012 when the Path Blazers slash him — following 3 a lot more many years and 3 a lot more knee functions — is that he drank sufficient to not remember something. The Heat signed him in 2013, but he performed sparingly that time, and the team permit him wander. Quickly following, on Aug. seven, 2014, Oden was supposed to be with the Ohio State basketball team in the Bahamas, volunteering on a summer months tour, but he bailed at the previous moment. He went to a club with his on-and-off girlfriend at the time, Christina Eco-friendly, and he coupled beers with shots. They returned to the house of Oden’s mother, Zoe, and begun arguing. Zoe and a buddy of Green’s experimented with to tranquil him down, but Oden swatted them out of the way, pushed Eco-friendly onto a sofa and strike her 3 times, in accordance to the law enforcement report. The previous blow split open her brow, drawing blood. Oden’s mother pulled him off, and Green’s buddy called 911. Oden also called 911, purchased an ambulance and turned himself in. “I was wrong,” he told law enforcement, “and I know what has to happen.”

Oden pleaded guilty to a felony charge of battery with reasonable bodily damage, for which he obtained probation, a great and an get to go to counseling and Alcoholics Anonymous lessons. Virtually 3 many years later, he thinks typically about that night time, while he can’t explore it in considerably element due to the fact of the conditions of a civil fit. “I just want to be a excellent instance for my fiancée and daughter,” he claims. He thinks about what will happen when Londyn one working day Googles her daddy’s identify and discovers a thing considerably even worse than getting the most significant bust in NBA history. And he thinks about what he did upcoming, seeking to get started a new existence.

He moved back again to Columbus.

HE REACHES THE major of the stairs, masking suffering. He generally hurts someplace — his knees, his legs, his hip, his back again. He talks about ambitions the way many previous NFL players do, in conditions of just wanting to be in a position to wander and to be in a position to pick up his daughter and to be in a position to make peace with not feeling correct — not feeling excellent — ever once again. Men and women sometimes question if he nevertheless performs ball or, even worse, appear at him with pity in their eyes due to the fact they know why he isn’t going to. He looks like he could perform — right until he attempts to run. He is on a roster for a 5-on-5 summer months event, but irrespective of whether he’ll perform is an open dilemma. He enjoys his identification as a father and partner-to-be, but he needs a specialist distinction exterior of his present-day one.

So in tumble 2014, Oden begun showing up at the Schottenstein Center basketball court. He had a support program — Matta would permit him come to methods and games and be around the men — but it was no compact feat. A overall body that when declared his arrival now declared his failures. “I experimented with to uncover pleasure once again,” he claims. One particular working day, Jake Diebler, an OSU movie coordinator at the time, launched himself. “I am a huge fan of yours,” Diebler claimed. They became close friends, and Oden became Diebler’s project. He was out of shape, in continual suffering, bereft of self-assurance and nevertheless feeling the pressure to in some way correct a wrong, equally with his career and his criminal actions. He would typically terminate their morning exercise routines, boasting his knees hurt. “Instead than a total exercise session, let’s do 50 %,” Diebler would say, and Oden would relent. “He was lost,” claims Diebler, now an assistant at Vanderbilt. “It hurt my coronary heart to see him go by way of what he did. But it was also neat to see him go by way of it.”

Oden could no lengthier depend on his bodily dominance, so he practiced hooks and jumpers. By the summer months of 2015, he landed tryouts with the Mavericks and Hornets but obtained no offers. The only opportunity arrived from the Jiangsu Dragons of the Chinese Basketball Affiliation. He took it. In the preseason, he injured his thumb, missing 3 months. But he did not tumble aside he returned to perform 25 games. That he had even gotten himself in shape to perform felt like sufficient of a acquire. “I was actually all set to perform basketball,” he claims. It was a lot more than a opportunity to wander off the court with a new semblance of peace. It was an invisible victory on which the relaxation of his existence would be designed.

“He genuinely necessary to be five-eleven and a bookworm,” previous Buckeyes assistant Alan Main claimed. Jim Prisching/Chicago Tribune/Getty Illustrations or photos

HE ENTERS THE workplace of John Macko, his tutorial counselor. Oden sits reverse Macko, knees touching the bottom of the desk. Oden nevertheless has a whole lot of the $24 million he built in his career, but he is aware how immediately the existence he imagined he’d have can disappear. He may mentor. Could possibly broadcast. Could possibly go into enterprise. “Who is aware?” he claims.

Energetic and psyched to see Oden, Macko performs a movie built many years ago in which popular OSU athletes tout the school’s lecturers.

“You found it?” Macko claims.

“I haven’t found it,” Oden claims.

Oden is the very first athlete to show up.

“Oh person,” he claims, shaking his head. “So skinny.”

His old existence will generally follow him, haunting him, even as he attempts to determine his new one. He did not throw away his potential his overall body broke just before he could encounter it. He is typically questioned to give motivational speeches, but he isn’t going to know what to say. “I will not believe I have an ending however,” he claims. On the very first working day of school previous tumble, Oden stood in line for his college student ID card, surrounded by freshmen. Past semester he took a class about NCAA guidelines and rules — a class he lived — but he nevertheless did his necessary studying. He grinds as if a thing bigger than a diploma is at stake.

Macko switches screens, to Oden’s college student profile.

Oden appears antsy, staring at his accrued credits. He registers for highly developed math and history of sports. Now the quantity of credits remaining for his diploma appears on the display. He leans in.

“That’s all you have bought remaining,” Macko claims.

“Oh genuinely?”

He is closer than he understood. He leans back again, feeling a small lighter. “I am chopping away at it.” He’ll very likely obtain his diploma in two many years. He smiles and claims, “I will need to eat.”

He will go upcoming door to a greasy spoon called Hold About Straightforward, one of his favourite places from his very first run as a college student. Men and women will stare at him as he enters, as he ducks below very low ceilings. He’ll uncover a peaceful desk and chill out, purchasing equally breakfast and lunch. A waiter will welcome him back again and give him a card for totally free foodstuff. Someone else will shake his hand and will wander away indicating, “That’s my person!” Then he will go dwelling and perform with Londyn. A excellent morning will turn into a excellent working day. But very first, Oden walks down the stairs of the tutorial support center, back again to the very first flooring. His steps are gradual and studied, but they are constant, so considerably less complicated than the way up.

Resource connection

Aboriginal football’s first family

KEVIN Sheedy, that peerless promoter of Aboriginal footballers, first came into contact with the Rioli clan in 1974.

The previous year, the then-Richmond premiership star had been the first full-time development officer appointed by a League club, and his journey to the Tiwi Islands proved something of an awakening.

More visits followed and friendships were formed with the likes of Cyril Rioli snr (the father of Richmond great Maurice and the grandfather of Hawthorn superstar Cyril, or ‘Junior Boy’).

The late family patriarch, whom Sheedy remembered was ���the chief of the island”, had eight sons, all of whom were raised on football, boxing and fishing and were encouraged to become community leaders.

The eldest son, the supremely talented Sebastian ‘Sibby’ Rioli (the late father of former Bomber Dean), was the first to play in the WAFL; and was followed by Maurice, who in turn blazed a trail for the clan in Victoria.

Sheedy remains enamoured with the family. “The Riolis are superstars – always have been,” Sheedy told the AFL Record.

“Every time they get the ball, people in the stands lift off their seats to look. The fans don’t know what’s going to happen, but they know it’ll be good, it’ll be different, and it’ll probably be pretty special.

“They are also unbelievable decision-makers because they see the whole landscape of the field.

“And they’re all tough. I haven’t seen a scared Rioli. They’re ball players who are smart and evasive, but if you hit them you know you’re going to get hurt.

“It’s a great combination.”

Here, we celebrate the four Riolis who have played senior football in the AFL/VFL and have helped make the Rioli clan the first family of Aboriginal football. 

Maurice Rioli

A football pioneer for his family, for Tiwi islanders and for many Aboriginal players in general, the late, great Maurice Rioli was a man who loved the big stage.

The beautifully skilled, left-footed centreman was voted best-afield in three successive Grand Finals – the 1980 and 1981 WAFL deciders with South Fremantle and the 1982 VFL play-off with Richmond – the last two in losing teams.

‘Mr Magic’ also won best and fairests in his first two seasons at Tigerland (1982-83) and was runner-up in the 1983 Brownlow Medal.

No wonder Essendon’s then dual reigning premiership coach Sheedy was so keen to snare Rioli

when he considered a change of clubs at the end of 1985.

Sheedy: “For all his brilliance, Maurice was tough, and a great tackler. And he was a lovely person.”

Although he initially found the training tough at Richmond, Rioli was driven to succeed, later saying: “I was wanting to prove to myself and others that I was good enough to play at that level.”

Maurice Rioli weaves his magic against Collingwood in 1985. Picture: AFL Photos

When Rioli was inducted into the Australian Football Hall of Fame last year, former Richmond teammate Dale Weightman recalled a silent assassin.

“He didn’t talk much – he let his footy do the talking – and he was poetry in motion,” Weightman told the AFL Record.

“Pure class, silky-smooth, a great ball-handler, a great dodger and weaver, and a beautiful left-foot kick.

“He always seemed to have time and he never lost his feet – he had unbelievable balance.”

Weightman said Rioli was “ahead of his time” as a tackler, revealing he would advise teammates: “Hey brother, you gotta draw from the hips like a gunfighter.”

Rioli did his share of fighting too – in retaliation for regular racial slurs – and that’s where his status as an amateur boxing champion came to the fore.

Weightman: “He’d just give a little one-two and the bloke learned his lesson.”

Some years earlier, Rioli also delivered a boxing lesson to the much bigger and much louder Mark ‘Jacko’ Jackson at South Fremantle training.

Rioli later became a champion for his people, as a longtime Labor member of the Northern Territory parliament and later in community services on the Tiwi Islands.

All the while, he continued to mentor and inspire young footballers, among them members of his extended family, including Essendon great Michael Long and nephew Cyril Rioli – who, remarkably, also won Norm Smith Medals – and grand-nephew Daniel Rioli, who proudly wears Maurice’s old No. 17.

Long last year described Rioli as a “Rolls-Royce” who, from a football perspective, helped “put NT on the map”.

Rioli’s sudden death at just 53 on Christmas Day, 2010, provoked an enormous outpouring of grief, and he received a state funeral in Darwin.

Dean Rioli

Sheedy still shakes his head at the fact it was more good luck than good management that Dean Rioli ended up at Bomberland.

At 19, Rioli was overlooked by every club in the 1997 National Draft before the Dons grabbed him in the Rookie Draft.

“We should’ve got him earlier than that,” Sheedy said.

“You challenge your recruiting officer and they say, ‘Well, no one else (drafted) him either.’ But that doesn’t mean it’s right, because it left the door open for someone else to potentially get him. I’m glad we got him.”

The teenager hadn’t exactly flown under the radar – he’d won the WAFL’s rising star award and played a key role in South Fremantle’s 1997 premiership, slotting a game-high four goals in a come-from-behind six-point win, his last goal coming in the dying stages.

And, of course, he was a Rioli. But he had a crook knee and was seen to be overweight – issues that dogged him throughout his AFL career, when his 180cm frame ballooned to around 100kg.

Former Bombers assistant coach Robert Shaw last year wrote on the club’s website that had it not been for ongoing injuries, Rioli would have become “an Essendon champion”.

Dean Rioli played exactly 100 games for the Bombers. Picture: AFL Photos

Sheedy has genuine fondness for his former charge and vividly recalls his kicking and decision-making skills.

“Dean was a beautiful kick and he could see the whole picture,” Sheedy said. “He was one of the best disposers of the ball that I coached. Every time he got it, our forwards’ eyes would light up like Luna Park.

“The real art to kick the right type of ball to that particular receiver. Dean had that. He’d adjust his kick to a tall person, a slow person and so on. That’s a gift.”

Sheedy said that when Rioli played, he was “a great player, a tough player”, who would have been immortalised alongside his hero Michael Long as a member of Essendon’s 2000 premiership team had he not suffered his second broken collarbone for the season in round 21.

A decade later, Rioli recalled it as the “hardest moment” of his career.

However, he achieved another dream – that of playing 100 games so his name would be emblazoned on the No. 43 locker – and he’s grateful to the “kind-hearted” Sheedy for nursing him to the milestone.

There’s a perception Sheedy ensured Rioli played 100 games because it would give Essendon access to any potential father-son prospects.

But Sheedy dispels the myth. “It wasn’t about that. My philosophy was if they’re near it, they’re going to get there. If you’re not going to win the premiership that year, reward your gladiators for being loyal to the club.” 

Cyril Rioli

Cyril Rioli sees the adulation. But even after 10 years at Hawthorn, he finds it all a bit “weird”.

The Hawks have named one of their junior membership categories after him. They have done so for years.

More than 35 per cent of all player-branded merchandise sold at the club’s Hawks Nest merchandise outlets feature either his smiling mug (often on a mug) or his No. 33 jumper. Rioli gear sells nearly twice as much as any other player.

The Hawks were a bit slow to embrace Indigenous players, but thanks to the courage and willingness of former recruiting manager John Turnbull to challenge entrenched attitudes, Chance Bateman and Mark Williams were drafted to the club. Both are premiership players and were popular with members and supporters.

But the love for Rioli goes to another level. He is a rock star. Hawthorn people adore him like a son, and adding to the pleasure is that he should have played for arch-rival Essendon, the club that first forged a partnership with the Tiwi Islands, Rioli’s birthplace.

“Every time he gets the ball in a Hawthorn guernsey, I feel ill – and I haven’t been well for a long time,” said Sheedy, who finished up as Essendon coach just before the 2007 draft and who coveted Rioli for a considerable time. 

“Imagine Cyril Rioli and (former Tiwi Bomber Anthony) McDonald-Tipungwuti together in Essendon’s forward line. Good luck!”

Cyril Rioli’s tackling and defensive pressure is a constant. Picture: AFL Photos

The “Cyril” chant often breaks out at the MCG when he and the Hawks are up and about.

“It’s sort of weird,” Rioli said of the hoopla. “We just play for the love of the game.”

Rioli might not have been the best of his family to play the game. Maurice was obviously a star, but it is Cyril who has elevated the family to football royalty with his play over 185 games for the Hawks.

The Rioli clan have always played the game a certain way, but the brand has been shaped by Cyril. Any Rioli with a bit of talent is instantly compared with Cyril. Their progress through the junior pathway is compared with his.

Asked whether there’s a Rioli ‘brand’, Rioli said: “Growing up on the Tiwi Islands, it’s about playing on instinct and the team thing. It’s based around pressure and making my teammates better. We all tackle pretty well.”

In the dry world of football analytics, they’re generally classified as ‘one percenters’, but bearing witness to a Rioli tackle is like watching a virtuoso performance.

His has been a brilliant career – four flags and a Norm Smith Medal. The 2014 flag, the third he played in, might have been the sweetest of the lot, coming back as he did just in time for the Grand Final after shredding his hamstring halfway through the year.

The sad part is that he won’t be playing this weekend. He suffered a major injury to his PCL in Tasmania a fortnight ago and will be watching from the couch as the Hawks – wearing a jumper he helped design and promote with a clever ‘Mannequin Challenge’ style video on the club website – take on the Swans in Sydney.

“This one will be tough to watch from the sidelines because Hawthorn always does a very good job of celebrating the round,” he said.

Daniel Rioli

Daniel Rioli reckons he would have loved to have played for Hawthorn, wreaking havoc and snagging goals alongside uncle Cyril.

Essendon, the club of uncle Dean, would have been special, too. There was also the intrigue of walking into a club where no Rioli had been before, spreading the magic and making the family even more beloved.

But when Richmond called his name with the 15th selection at the 2015 NAB AFL Draft, it immediately felt right. The grand-nephew of the great Maurice Rioli (whom he calls his grandfather) should really play nowhere else.

“To be at Richmond where my grandfather played wearing No. 17 is unbelievable,” he said. “It couldn’t be any better.”

Daniel Rioli is making his own name at Richmond. Picture: AFL Photos

He need not venture too far to learn how revered the Rioli name is at Tigerland. 

“There are lots of stories,” he said. “When I’m signing autographs, Richmond fans tell me they watched my grandfather play, what he went through and what he meant to the club. Hopefully I can be a similar sort of player.”

Only recently, one of the training staff showed him a signed Maurice Rioli poster. Elsewhere at the club he came across an action shot of him playing, one he had never seen before. 

“I’m sure there are a heap of stories I’ve never heard before,” he said.

You would think there was added pressure on Rioli, given his name, number and footballing address,

but he shrugs it off the way so many of his relatives have when evading an oncoming tackler.

“Cyril really takes the game on, he can tackle,” he said. “(But) I can tackle, too. There’s a kind of pressure that comes with being a Rioli and it’s a good thing to have the name. Maurice, Dean and ‘Junior’ (Cyril) played their brand of footy and now it’s my turn to make my name. The pressure can be a positive thing.”

Rioli is blazing a similar trail to Cyril. Both left the Northern Territory at the end of Year 8 to complete their schooling in Victoria – Cyril at Scotch College and Daniel at St Patrick’s College in Ballarat – and a couple of the younger Riolis have been identified and might soon be heading down the same path. 

But the inspiration for Rioli will always be those who came before him.

“It’s pretty good growing up in the Northern Territory where all the Riolis are born and bred,” he said. “I’m pretty lucky to be part of all that.”   

THIS STORY WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE ROUND 10 EDITION OF THE AFL RECORD, AVAILABLE AT ALL VENUES.

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