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bruh-haikyuu · 4 years

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REQUEST: Can I request Bokuto with a soft & short manager s/o and she always helps the team cheer bokuto up when hi is in emo mode and like a lot of fluff🥺👉👈

A/N: Tumblr is being a whore with their Keep Reading button, putting it on the ask and shit smh. So I apologize for the repost.

alate. | bokuto kōtarō

word count: 1776

warnings: none

(adj.) having wings; lifted up in flight

Official match protocols only allowed one manager on the court for each team. Fukurodani Academy’s Boys’ Volleyball team always had their lenient but reliable third year managers to get the job done. Third-years Yukie and Kaori had been your final salvation against the inevitable fate of having to care for the raucous boys alone. But today with some lucky fortune of theirs, they’d somehow coerced you into taking their place.

“...Will I experience any internal combustions by the end of the match?”

The three of you stood in a personal circle at the entrance to the gym. The three managers of Fukurodani, with your two seniors looming over you like two scheming birds of prey. They didn’t even have to ask why you were so worried; despite being a second-year, this was your first time to stand on the court with the team instead of panicking on your own on the sidelines. This time, you were in the game, up-close-and-personal.

“You’ll do fine~” Yukie grinned, raising her right hand in a lazy ‘OK’ gesture. “Besides, you’re a total expert when it comes to giving Bokuto a good knock in the head.”

If Bokuto’s vanity was a chronic disease, he’d need more than just a “good knock in the head” to be cured. But Yukie wasn’t wrong. Your praises, in comparison to the others’, had a quicker, more powerful effect on the ace. Though you weren’t sure if that skill of yours was more of a blessing than a curse...

“W-well, I’ll do my best,” you muttered, fiddling with the hem of your track jacket. Your seniors exchanged a look before smiling softly at you.

“Oh, and one more thing!” Kaori piped up as you lugged the bag full of empty bottles over your shoulder. “Can you act a bit bashful when you’re complimenting the captain?

“Why’s that, Kaori-san?”

“Bokuto thinks you look cute when you’re embarrassed.”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

‘Cute’? What did that even mean? Did Bokuto always think people were ‘cute’ whenever they flash a single praise at him? Not that you remembered... What’s with that, you grumbled, angrily trying to get the concept into your skull.

Your eyes darted back to the court where—much to your distress—the other team just had to be painfully good at blocks. Now, you just hoped that the boys wouldn’t get too disgruntled.

The score was 12-15, with Torasaka Metropolitan High in the lead. Though Fukurodani had obtained their twelfth point with a lucky read on Torasaka’s setter dump, things were obstinately bleak for your team.

“I want to try it!” you heard Bokuto exclaim excitedly. From afar, you could already spot a few sullen scowls begin to form on his teammates’ faces. “Hey, ‘Kaashi, do you want to try that block with me?”

The setter sent you a pained expression enough for guilt to comically swallow you whole. Returning his attention to the ace who’s practically bouncing on his heels, Akaashi sighed. “Bokuto-san, let’s focus on our normal blocks first.”

A child! you thought incredulously as you watched the captain stick out his tongue at him. Though Bokuto was particularly a sight to behold when he’s in top form, just how confident could he be, trying something so risky in a middle of a tight match? Or was he just a complete and utter numbskull? You thought he was rather amazing for the juxtaposition... in a Bokuto fashion, of course.

As Washio prepared to serve, you watched the ace literally vibrate with eagerness of having such an “interesting enemy”. Whenever Bokuto got extremely fired up, it was your inevitable fate that you just couldn’t look away. The way his jersey hugged his hulking frame as he flexed his muscles in preparation to follow the path of the ball, it was nearly bewitching. If he had been like this his entire life, you were sure your heart wouldn’t take being with Bokuto for a mere second.

“It’s up!” Torasaka’s libero signaled, cleanly receiving Washio’s serve (much to the player’s frustration).

In your memory, Torasaka High wasn’t a much known threat until just recently. “Their new first years block like a fort,” you remembered what Coach Yamiji had said in the bus that morning. Despite far from being as crafty as Nohebi or as versatile as Nekoma, Tokyo teams were a force to be reckoned with.

What a terrifying sport, you thought to yourself for what seemed to be the fifth time this month.

“Left! Left!”

On the other side of the court, Sarukui, Bokuto and Akaashi scrambled to follow the ball’s trajectory. Though you were only a rookie in this entire volleyball thing, you were quick to notice that Bokuto’s footsteps were a bit smaller and slower than the first two...

Wait, is he planning to delay the timing of his block now?!

It was definitely a quick from the other side. It was evident, even to you. And when the two jumped to block the ball with their ace lagging behind, the ball had already streaked over him at a dangerous angle. Point Torasaka.

Landing on the pads of his feet, Akaashi’s expression shifted between “candidly annoyed” and “visibly concerned” as he watched the captain raise his head for his team to see.

“You’re kidding me...” Sarukui groaned under his breath. Behind him, the others followed promptly with their own reactions of disbelief.

His infamous salt-and-pepper hair deflating alongside his shoulders, Bokuto whined, loud enough for you to hear from the benches. “The hell... I thought I had that block mastered. Why’d they have to make it look so easy?”

Time-out! Akaashi turned to you and the coach a with pleading stare, hard enough for your supervising teacher to shoot upwards and signal the referee for their second break of the match.

Groaning, you stuffed your face in your hands, hoping that your senior managers in the audience were praying for your good health.

“What were you thinking?!” Coach Yamiji hissed, giving the sulking ace a well-deserved smack to the side of his head. Bokuto didn’t even flinch. “You could’ve—”

“Coach. Let me.”

Snapping his head in your direction, the old man grew pale when he heeded the dark aura that spewed from your body. Even the others, though they were only watching the entire event go down, was hyper-aware of the invisible, nightmarish fog that came with your frustration.

You’d always seemed so sweet and indulgent, never angry. Never. And yet Bokuto had finally gotten you to drop the tether that held your patience together.

Walking to Bokuto, you sent him a scowl so cold, he forgot how to blink. The rest of the team, the coach, your teacher and even Yukie and Kaori in the stands shivered from the sudden gust of frosty air that oozed from you. Some of the audience surprisingly turned their heads to watch the spectacle of the tiny Fukurodani manager who seemed like she was about to trample on their ace.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

“Bokuto, you—!”

You froze. No. If you scolded him now, that only make matters worse. Bokuto didn’t fare well when he was scolded by Kaori or Yukie either. Besides, you were his manager, not his mother. But what else were you going to do?

Bokuto thinks you look cute when you’re embarrassed.

Swallowing a nagging lump in your throat, you recalled the words of your seniors. Embarrassed? How do you do embarrassed? Was that even a thing you could pull off manually? Taking in a deep breath, you tightened your fist before loosening them in front of your body. Something was better than nothing.

“B-Bokuto-senpai...?”

“Senpai?!” the others snapped towards you, jaws on the floor. Even Bokuto was stunned.

Eyeing his interested gaze, you continued, fidgeting bashfully, “Bokuto-senpai’s such a slob... If you just listened to the others... you’d be a lot cooler...”

Komi tugged at the back of Konoha’s jersey, whispering in the blonde one’s ear, “She’s pulling out the ‘Cute Tsundere’ card!”

Stupefied, the wing spiker muttered, “Bokuto’s actually taking the bait... Scary. L/N-san’s scary.”

And take the bait he did. You didn’t even realize how red you were with the way he was looking at you—and the shade was fully unintentional, much to your chagrin. But Bokuto’s sullen mood was far gone, replaced with the brighter interest of infatuation.

“A lot cooler...?” Bokuto savored your words in his tongue, before whipping out both his hands to grab at your shoulders. “Y-You think I’m cool?!”

You didn’t even have to pretend to be shy anymore. The close contact of his skin, the scent of his sweat mingled with the musky aroma of his cologne and the pinkish tint on his cheeks. It was too much, and you soon wondered if Bokuto had always seemed this charming to you.

“Y-you airhead! Of course I do,” you mumbled, lowering your sight to the floor. “You’re already really good at volleyball, but you do things like forcing yourself to do a block you can’t do just because you want attention and... and now everyone has to bear that burden.”

“Please go on a date with me.”

You flinched in his grasps. This was escalating much faster than you’d hoped it would. Unable to register what he had said, you asked him to repeat himself.

“The cute Y/N-chan thinks I’m cool. That’s like a dream come true, right? So if I become cool again, won’t you go on a date with me?”

How unbelievable. One second he almost reminded you of the small boy that lived below your apartment, and the next he was like some sort of phantom thief, ready to whisk you away from the confines of your castle and steal your heart. You smiled earnestly; Bokuto Koutarou really was a man of many wonders.

Slipping yourself away from his grip, you raised an index finger between his eyes. “If you win... I’ll consider it.”

Like a phoenix rising from its ashes, the ace lit up once more. Revived, renewed, and heart set on taking you out. While dragging Akaashi back onto the court, Bokuto made it a point that he was looking at you all the way. You giggled. What an interesting person.

From the stands, your gaze traced the motto of Fukurodani’s Volleyball Club. Pour all your soul into each ball. Bokuto played with passion, with his emotions and whenever the time was right, with his logic too. For a while, volleyball seemed like the last thing you’d want to spend your life doing. But seeing the ace’s blushing grin to you when they’d scored the final match point... it might not be as bad as you thought it’d be.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyu #hq #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #bokuto koutarou #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou imagine #bokuto koutarou scenario #sfw #bruh haikyuu writing #fukuroudani x reader

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khizuo · 3 years

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liveblogging mcc 13 cyan candy canes, baby! (from wilbur and phil’s pov)

Pre-game

- 4 minutes to 3 and wilbur has still not started his stream. I can’t stand this man /j

- fundy made his own skin! pog!

- yes fundy your team is amazing, that’s why I’m watching it

- wilbur’s waiting music is a piano version of your new boyfriend, awww

- and he’s just inserting “WOOO!” in there because,,, of course

- WILBUR JUST WOKE UP 20 MINUTES AGO god that’s relatable oof

- NOOO THE CLOCK ISN’T IN THE BACKGROUND ANYMORE

- THIS IS THE LAST STREAM IN THE OFFICE AAAAHHHH

- wilbur doesn’t even have a custom skin he’s the “ghost of christmas past” I hate him /j

- this team is so not gonna win lmao quackity also just woke up

- wilbur is calling quackity “big quu” this is terrible already

- I fucking love quackity’s skin IT’S JUST HIM NAKED WITH CHRISTMAS LIGHTS

- NOW WILBUR’S IN A SHAME JUMPER

- literally the reddit could have never made skins this good I love it

- TRUMPBUR OH GOD

- this team is chaotic and the stream has just started

Parkour Tag

- Phil: “It’s so early in the stream and we’re already talking about giving out coke” he’s a tired dad this mcc lmao

- wilbur and big q can’t stop making trump jokes I love this team way too much

- “wilbur you gotta be the bait” (trump sweater joke) “yes I’m the worm!”

- I swear they’re barely talking about mcc they’re just talking about random shit lmao

- quackity to phil: “if you win we can pay for your hospital bills” SAVE THE MINECRAFT MAN

- “she’s high so that’s bad for the kid” good lord there’s too many drug jokes already

- fundy survived a round for the first time! (but wilbur also didn’t tag hbomb rip)

- ooh, teal’s having a strong start!

- BIG Q TAGGED DREAM THE POWER

- “We don’t care about points we care about clout”

Battle Box

- wilbur keeps forgetting that he’s NOT BAD AT MCC

- wilbur’s mic broke oh god

- BIG Q FARM THE CLOUT

- wilbur’s stream is so scuffed rn he’s muted and he’s lagging so hard

- alright he’s back!

- dude they have to stop making quackity go to mid alone

- phil’s new strategy is great! they beat the illumina/punz team

- they almost beat coral carollers (aka team pvp) damnnn

- Wilbur’s just rapping lafayette’s song lmao

- THEY WON A ROUND WHILE SINGING FOUR DIFFERENT SONGS

- What was that fruitberries maneuver—

- LITERALLY 4 OF THE 5 BEST PLAYERS THAT GAME WAS CORAL

- Wilbur’s yelling WOOOOOOOOO as he yo-yo’s

- this team is nothing but chaos and I’ve never laughed so hard

Hole in the Wall

- What is this song they’re singing

- Wilbur’s just singing “And we drink too many shots” on repeat

- Philza’s disappointed dad energy is so strong

- THAT’S MY FURRY LITTLE BOY wilbur please

- quackity is too good at making stupid voices

- “oh my god if you think about it wilbur these are a bunch of walls you shoudl wear your [trump] sweater” QUACKITY STOP

- FUNDY JINXED ME NO MY CLOUT -quackity

- wilbur can see the future (?) “george fall” and then george fall “now dream” AND THEN DREAM FALLS

- JayZ is the best MCC player

- they’re trying to jinx petezahhhutt

- Wilbur stop saying you’re bad at MCC

- “And we drink too many shots and we drink too many shots”

- They came 2nd while literally just talking in tumblr shitpost—

Ace Race

- “It’s been a season one tradition that I hate ace race, so I’m gonna be as optimistic as possible” - wilbur

- “wilbur are you a clone” “FUNDY ARE YOU A FURRY”

- wilbur literally couldn’t be positive about ace race for 30 SECONDS

- they’re flaming scott smajor

- everyone’s too good at this game now lmao

- WTF HE’S OFFLINE AND HIS OFFLINE SCREEN IS SO FUCKING CURSED

- WILBUR’S COMPUTER CRASHED

- tommy came in and asked if wil’s okay awww

- THEY DID IT THEY ADDED NEW CURSED LORE. QUACKITY IS NOW PHILZA’S GRANDSON

- I’M A PROPHET

- they were doing so well now they’re fucked lol

- Hbomb’s first! I’m so happy for him I love hbomb

- damn I’m actually sad now that their placements are gonna be so fucked

- and they’d done so well in hitw! this is actually sad

- HBOMB HAS A NEW RECORD WOOO

- a lot of people broke techno’s mcc 11 record but also this map is shorter

Intermission

- Wilbur’s breaking his pc at the end of the stream—

- quackity and wilbur collab? 👀

TGTTOSAWAF

- PHIL FIRST IN TERRA SWOOP FORCE LET’S FUCKING GO

- dude wilbur don’t feel bad about your pc breaking—

- PHIL FIRST IN THE DOORS MAP TOO

- they just followed teal AND THEY’RE PUNCHING ERET

- THIS IS THE TRUE L’MANBERG WAR

- teal turkeys is fucking killing it! illumina and punz redemption!

- FUNDY FIRST IN THE BOATS MAP

- lmao phil is almost last but it glitched

- TOP 3 PLAYERS ALL TEAL

- I mean the subreddit knew this would be their best game

- qauckity is lowest points BUT NOT LOWEST CLOUT

- WE LOVE CLOUT

- why is wilbur miaowing

- "tubbo on a yo-yo what will he do” - fundy

Rocket Spleef

- dude with this game order cyan could have won if not for wilbur’s pc crashing in ace race

- HOW MANY SONGS HAVE BEEN SUNG THIS MCC

- fundy is singing apple pen stop him

- why are they all putting on scuffed british accents

- WILBUR WATCHES HERMITCRAFT THIS MAN

- THEY WON THE FIRST ROUND

- they haven’t used their normal voices for HALF THIS MCC

- WHY IS EVERYONE GOING AFTER PHIL

- quackity getting them kills!

- aww they’re not first anymore

- MCC = My Catholic Christmas

- quackity and wilbur really need to stop talking down about themselves—

- “just killed a tommy, feeling good” - wilbur

- will it be a gogy christmas or not?

- PHIL WON THE LAST ROUND

- TECHNOBLADE TTS

Snows of Time

- Technoblade TTS “do you wanna kill a snowman”

- WHAT’S GOING ON WITH THE SERVER

- okay it crashed for a moment now it’s back

- wow this event is scuffed but I don’t even care I’m just laughing

- NO PHIL DIED IN LAVA

- they opened two vaults but wilbur didn’t cash

- sighhhh there’s no chance now

- they’re somehow sixth in SOT?

- WILBUR HAS OVERTAKEN BTS IN THE CHARTS

- wilbur likes dynamite by bts we stan

Big Sales at Build Mart

- they dunked dream YEAHHH

- NO NOT BUILD MART NOOOOOOOOO

- PHIL JUST WALKED OUT

- dodgebolt of teal and purple! lmao pink didn’t even make it

- THE CAPTAIN IS 3RD AGAIN

- lmao this is wil’s worst placement ever rip

- THE REDDIT IS GONNA GO WILD

Dodgebolt

- wilbur is actually sad aww nuuu :(

- this mcc was fun as hell though!

- even though the last two games were a bit of a downer

- WILBUR AND QUACKITY ARE MAKING OUT BEHIND THE BLEACHERS WHY

- go teal! I like purple too but I want illumina and punz to get their first wins

- but false is too powerful

- Wilbur listens to hayloft in the shower?

- quackity’s badboyhalo impression is on point

- THEY’RE CORRUPTING MUFFINHEAD STOP

- THIS IS SUCH A TENSE DODGEBOLT

- YES GO TEAL

- Pete 1v4 lol

- AND TEAL WINS!!!

- aww poor grian tho ;-;

okay this was the longest liveblog post like ever created oops

#mcc #mcc 13 #wilbur soot #philza #philza minecraft #quackity #fundy #itsfundy #fundylive #mc championship #minecraft championship #mcyt #mcc liveblog #mcyt liveblog #long post

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selfproducingfanfictionauthor · 3 years

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Lessons to Build - ii: you can’t outrun what is in you

Summary: Two years ago, you break off your 5-year long engagement with Min Yoongi of the Min family and ran off to New York. However, for people like you, running away has never been a lasting solution.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader / Taehyung x reader

Warnings: None for this chapter. Y/N comes home, we meet Yoongi but not MEET-MEET. Might make you root for Taehyung. Notes: Short chapters for quicker updates is my jam. This took a while because i wasn’t sure how I wanted to present Yoongi yet. But here it is. He may be “kind” but there are other things at play that affected (and will affect) his decisions. Same with Y/N. Also Tumblr won’t let me tag some users. :(( I hope you guys find this update! And thank you for the people finding this fic! Word Count: 1.6k Prologue Lesson I

Home.

Home shouldn’t be something you have to run away from. And yet, the moment you booked your flight, fingers tapping away on your phone - your passport details, credit card, seat number - an undeniable weight has began to made its home on your shoulders. As encompassing as a blanket but as imprisoning as heavy sand.

“What do you mean you’re flying to Seoul? Now??”

Isn’t it funny how things change in less than 24 hours? In a blink of an eye?

Taehyung’s voice is shrill in the background as you toss clothes upon clothes over your shoulder, hopping they’d get at least near the perimeter of your open suitcase.

Around you is your life in disarray. At the back of your mind, you find it slightly disturbing how easily it could fit in several boxes. No roots.

“Yes—“

“Why?”

You pause from grabbing your toiletries. There are things to do here in LA - there’s the campaign, the meetings with investors, your contracts, your would-be dog - your life.

Your mother told you that your father doesn’t want you to make the flight. That he’s fine, and it’s just exhaustion but the waver in your mother’s voice had your heart dropping straight to your stomach. And so despite her half-hearted protests, you’ve turned over your works over email and sent the rest for your assistants to manage.

Seoul may as well be just another place in the map. No, you’re not coming for Seoul, you’re coming for family.

You grab your phone off your bed side table and press it against your ear. “My dad had a heart attack.”

On the other line, you can feel Taehyung consider his words. “I’m coming with you.”

Your hands pause from folding your clothes and you look at your phone and as if seeing your questioning gaze, Taehyung plows on. “Yeontan and I are coming with you.” “Why?”

There are two ways for Taehyung to answer. One easy way is to tell you the truth. That he knows you need a friend, a tether to your life here, someone who will solidify what you’ve built. Someone, something tangible, someone to prove to you that your life here is as real as the life you left.

Going back always runs the risk of regressing, falling back to old patterns, he learned.

After all, he knows the feeling of being forced back to square one.

Or, he could tell you this, “My brother’s been bugging me to visit. And I hate flying alone.”

You don’t mention that he’s flown across the globe more than you could count - even flew to France once because he wanted authentic mille-feuilles - and just nod. “Okay, I’ll send you the flight details.”

“Okay, Lady, I’ll be there.”

The collapse of the CEO of the biggest chain of hotels and one of the upcoming land developers in an annual gala event can never be kept a secret.

You’ve seen it happen only once before, to Mr. Min. As a young girl, you remember how the media feasted around him like flies, and how shareholders of his company stalked around like wolves under sheep’s clothing.

It was as if everyone was waiting with a baited breath for the old man to die. A final shift of power from the old ways to the new. It was sensational, romanticized by the public - not sparing a thought or two to the families except when they needed something.

That was years ago, and it’s an unfortunate fact that hasn’t changed a bit.

“Well, can’t say I didn’t expect this - at least we look good.” Taehyung mutters, decidedly ignoring the occasional flash of camera in his periphery. They were still trying to be subtle, maybe not sure of the “scoop”? Scared of your supposed hidden bodyguards? Who knows?

“You always look good, Tae.” You whisper lightheartedly, forcing calmness in your words.

Around you, people continue to buzz around, grabbing their suitcases from the conveyor, talking on the phone, glancing at their watches. But they too have noticed, and glances towards your way multiply as the minutes pass by.

Taehyung hums in agreement, looking as if he hadn’t just flown across the world. “Yes, it requires effort, but don’t go telling them that.”

A loud shutter sound draws you away from your conversation and you boldly meet the lenses of a masked photographer eye-to-eye. Every bit of the Oh heiress they’ve built up in their mind.

Last time you checked, you were the high society’s prodigal princess. Ran away from home, off to play Cinderella in the United States. Keeping busy with shallow causes, burning through your daddy’s money.

You wonder how they come up with their headlines. You’ve long since given up in appealing towards their journalist’s ethics, but with how creative they come up with stories, you’re a bit disappointed with the headline you last read. The least they could do was make it more fun - a hidden lover? Pregnant? A twist, or something.

You scoff. Although you may have been away for two years, you still are your parents’ daughter. This is child’s play.

Dressed in a black luxury pantsuit, heels lifting you up from the ground and make-up on point, you provide no weak points. Eyes half-lidded you stare straight to the cameras who’ve come out of their hiding, propriety be damned and all.

Oh Y/N is back.

(And if it feels like shrugging on a second skin, you pay it no mind)

“Tae… Tae… Tae!”

Taehyung jostles awake beside you, the hand you were shaking him with falls on your lap. “Wha— What?”

Yeontan’s yip echoes his owner’s confusion. The sound sounding as exhausted as he probably is. Flying has and will probably always be stressful for pets, but Taehyung refused to have someone dog sit Yeontan for this trip saying that he needs to meet his cousins, RJ or something.

Your eyes soften at your friend’s sleepy eyes. Outside the sky is bright, but you too can feel the time difference and jet lag creeping up.

“Sleep this off at the hotel, Tae. I’ll have the driver drop you off.” You’re already reaching out to press the button for the partition when Taehyung shakes his head.

“‘M not sleepy.”

“You’re dead on your feet, Tae.” Fondness laced in your words, you watch Taehyung straighten in his seat beside you and card his fingers through his hair, making the mess look like a ~coordinated~ one.

“I’m not letting you go there alone.”

“I’m going to the hospital, Tae, not war.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes. Taehyung spies the way you tuck your hands around yourself, almost curling inwards, almost shaking.

No.

“Could’ve fooled me, you’re dressed to kill.”

You look over expecting a teasing grin on his face but you falter, frozen, at the sight of his eyes. Dark chocolate eyes pin you to your spot, and heat blooms on your cheeks. Suddenly, you feel like your suit is too tight and even in its dark shade - too sheer.

Almost two years of friendship has not rendered you immune to Kim Taehyung.

Like the passing scenery, the moment is gone as quick as it came. Taehyung smiles and lifts Yeontan to his shoulder.

“He’s going to be there, isn’t he?”

There’s no question as to who he’s referring to. “He might be, my mom said he almost hasn’t left my dad’s side.”

Taehyung scoffs, “Like a vulture.”

You want to defend Yoongi but despite leaving the country because of him, you did keep updated. Partly because it’s ingrained to you to stay on top of news relating to your family business and its periphery but also… well, you don’t know what you hoped for.

In the span of less than two years, Min Yoongi dragged their struggling company and made it great again. Competitors lost out, assets were seized left and right, absorbed, repurposed in the gaping maw of a resurging giant.

He’s ruthless.

But you can be too.

Oh Jiyoung is not a young man anymore.

He doesn’t think he’s been young since his mother abandoned him and his father when he was ten. He wasn’t young when he left school at fifteen, or when he went back when he was eighteen.

He wasn’t young when he bussed tables, or worked in shucking oysters Yeosodo with swollen scarred hands. He wasn’t even young when he first met his wife, fell in love and learned what it was like to be loved back.

So, no, he isn’t surprised when he had a heart attack. A little off-put, and a bit terrified but not surprised. He’s lived more decades than he actually expected to already.

Looking down at his hands, he thinks that if he’d kicked the bucket right then and there the only true regret he’ll have is one that involves the young man across him.

Oh Jiyoung is old, but he hasn’t forgotten the mannerisms of a young man. His wife still makes him feel like one after all this years. So of course, he’s noticed the young man across him fiddle with his rings, his feet tapping to a rhythm only he knows.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous.”

Yoongi looks up from his seat to the teasing face of his would’ve been father-in-law. His thumb pauses from rubbing against the ring in his forefinger, he doesn’t answer. He feels the stare of your father bore down on him and he almost shifts like a boy caught in a lie.

Your flight has landed just less than two hours ago, he doubts you’ll give yourself time to rest first before heading to the hospital. Which means, any time now, those doors will open and you’ll be here.

How odd.

As if summoned, the doors open and —

— there you are.

Yoongi’s eyes don’t stay on you too long, not with a tall man hovering behind you, dark eyes trained on him. Your ease at this man’s close proximity sets fire at the back of his neck, and even if he wanted to say hello, this, instead comes out.

“The rumors are true then, huh?”

Tag List: @moonlitmyg @shadowstark @kookiebunnii @loveyoongles @swegstuffsuckers @anpanman-sonyeondan @veronawrites @ariadne-06 @springjade @neverthefirstchoice @creatorspalace End Notes: Hearts are appreciated but comments are gold. Let me know what you think and if you want to be included in a tag list!

#chaebol min yoongi #CHAEBOL TAEHYUNG #chaebol reader #CEO min yoongi #Future CEO reader #model taehyung #foiled arranged marriage #arrianged marriage au #marriage of convenience AU #Yoongi x reader #min yoongi #taehyung x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts angst #yoongi angst #lessons to build #bangtanarmynet

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iatheia · 3 years

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EDA reviews part 2 - books 10-18

Previous part here

10) Legacy of the Daleks - A very enjoyable read, even though it doesn’t mesh well with Big Finish continuity. I have a few headcanons on how to rectify that, though... The meeting between the Eight and Delgado’s Master left me grinning ear to ear, the way Eight was posturing, wholly aware of the way the Master ticks. I’m not sure I liked Susan quite as much, though - nor was she that fundamental to the story, spending most of the time off screen, but being somewhat unlikeable when she was there. Her final confrontation with the Master was a bit much... Similarly, it was hard to accept Master not recognizing her. That said, the rest of it was a fun romp, and Eight’s thoughts towards the end were particularly poignant, 9/10

11) Dreamstone Moon - Starting right off the bat with an author self insert, and have him being both the source of the conflict and the one to ultimately save the day, kind of - it’s a bold choice.... It’s been said before, but Doctor’s companions really should unionize huh? Eight’s in particular. It really is quite striking that the situation with Sam is pretty much the exact same one as it will be with Charlie - thinking that the Doctor is dead, abandoned, alone, without any network of support. And I’m finally about to have context for that post, so, cheers, I guess. That said, Sam and the Doctor are very much representative of the “quit telling everyone I’m dead - sometimes I can still hear his voice” meme. I’ve lost count how many times Sam decided that the Doctor’s dead within five minutes of seeing him very much alive. (Ok, no, I jest, but it’s a good book, throughly enjoyable from the beginning to end, 10/10)

12) Seeing I - I, uh, really struggle to follow Sam’s logic in the beginning here. I don’t really understand how she ended up in the place she did, after the last novel. Because, she wasn’t alone, she wasn’t abandoned, she was in a company of people, who, uh, cared about her might be putting it a bit too strongly, but who at least could vouch for her. So this disconnect is a bit odd. And, as good as this novel is, as good as the character work in here is, I have a slight disconnect with the rest of it, too. There is too big of a gulf with where the story begun and where it ended - there are too many things going on, too many plots introduced and then unceremoniously dropped. It’s like... Revolution of the Daleks inside of Kerblam, with Nightmare in Silver thrown in with half a dozen other themes from other episodes. When you have the doctor in the machine and the psychologist guy go from primary antagonists to the supporting cast we’re supposed to root for, there is something mildly dissatisfying about it, thematically speaking. Overall, the story in its entirety is less than a sum of its parts. Breaking it into pieces, though, there is a lot of exciting stuff there. 9/10

13) Placebo Effect - Controversial opinion time - I don’t care for Ark in Space. I think it’s a pretty forgettable episode. So any time I encounter any reference to the wirrrn, my reaction is “wait, who?”. And even though I like Leisure Hive well enough, I dare you to find anyone who has been clamoring for the return of Foamasi. This rather made me immediately apprehensive, straight from the preface. In general, there was too much continuity. Stacy & Ssard, really? How deep do you need to be to appreciate their appearance? They are so utterly unnecessary, too, they disappear less than a quarter of the way into the novel, they aren’t even there for set up, they are there for a set up of a set up. If you are actually a person who knew who they were, and wanted to see more of them, I can’t imagine this being all that satisfying. It’s a rather abrupt transition from the previous ark. I dare even say, aggressive, to the degree you have Sam going from “she is afraid to be even in the same room with him, lest she kills him with her soaked through panties” to “she is absolutely delighted when he imparts onto her his grandfatherly wisdom”. Then again, any time either Eight or Sam opened their mouth, I didn’t see Eight or Sam. I saw Four and Sarah Jane. It’s not well written, either. It’s very clunky. The dialogues in particular are obnoxious. Stacy’s and Sam’s conversation, and later on dogmatic discussion between Sam and the priests gave me full on psychic damage. I mostly skimmed beyond that, can’t say there was much to catch the eye. 2/10

14) Vanderdeken's Children - This book is aiming to be a masterpiece, but it’ll just have to settle for being good enough. It does have some interesting twists and turns in here, even though most of them are pretty predictable and expected from the set up. The last couple of chapters, the ending overall, are quite decent (even though all the ebook versions I was able to find cut off the last couple of pages, argh!), but the middle is very middling, with mostly uninspiring secondary characters that are ever so slowly being positioned on the chess board. 7/10

15) The Scarlet Empress - Where to begin... It’s a series of mostly unrelated short stories in a trench coat pretending to be a novel. It’s set up in a middle of a road trip, unrelated not just to each other, but also the measly bit of plot that was given to us? I found it’s quite difficult to engage with the story overall, or follow it, really. It tries to be more character driven than plot driven, which is an admirable aim, and some of the character stuff they have in here is nice, except... Outside of may be bits of chapter 1, I couldn’t really hear Doctor’s voice - any version of him, let alone Eight. Sam fares a bit better, but, at the end of the day... It doesn’t really feel like Doctor Who story. The pacing is completely off, as is the structure, and it was quite nonsensical and whimsical, more akin to Alice in Wonderland than Doctor Who. Not bad in and of itself, just, hard for me to appreciate as a part of this marathon. A note on Iris. I haven’t yet listened to her stand-alone adventures, but I generally enjoy whenever she shows up in Big Finish. Here, though, she was rather lacking Katy Manning’s charm and personality. And, I feel, if you didn’t have any existing fondness for the character before, this novel isn’t going to give you much to care about her. Except, *checks notes*, this was one of her first major outings? Not really a good start. Oh, and prior to this she was in a few short stories, by the same writer. Well, that checks out. 6/10

16) The Janus Conjunction - I really liked this one. Not much to say beyond it, but, very well written, very easy read, practically in a single breath. Excellent characterization for both Doctor and Sam, just a right degree of joyful, determined, adventurous, death defying, mad, delirious, and codependent, almost moreso than any other I’ve read so far. Rather dark, though, I can feel it resonating in the pit of my stomach, and it gets inside your head. 10/10

17) Beltempest - What did the Doctor do to deserve this character assassination??? It’s not without redeeming bits (looks like “I’m not a man” quote comes from here, big yay), but, in large part, is barely a pale shadow of a character I like. Especially in the beginning - he think that Sam might have died and he is ok with this??? After the Dreamstone Moon??? And he is incredibly obnoxious? And Sam was barely herself, even before being... uh, possessed? for plot related reasons. I can’t describe how much disconnect I have with the protagonists here, or with any characters in the rest of the book, for that matter, and how much the dialogue made me roll my eyes. And, ah, the technobabble. I generally try not to overthink the physics of most things in fiction, because, as a certified space scientist, otherwise I’d be here all day, but there comes a point where it crosses the line. After everything else, to read the words “newly born main sequence star” with my own two eyes is just too much. I’m a good person, I do not deserve this nonsense... The first half of the book left me rather put off. The second part left me feeling absolutely flat. No emotions, either positive or negative. And, uh, there was a post going around on tumblr along the lines of “the worst you can do to the character is having them mention a certain food, because the fandom will turn it into an obsession” - it’s rather the same here with Eight and books & classical music. I am rather starting to loose count of the number of times they are trying to emulate the scene with the ending of the movie, where he is lounging about and reading, or specifically mentioning Pucchini. To be fair, it’s not just this novel, but it definitely starting to take me out of it. 5/10

18) The Face-Eater - I’m generally a bit wary of cold opens in the books, because some tend to ramble a bit, with the characters I don’t already know and love, so it’s often is a chore to muster enthusiasm to care about them. This one, though, despite all that, starts very effectively, in a way that made me immediately sit up straight. Very snappish, in a style of noir novels. Too bad it doesn’t quite sustain that energy throughout it. The plot is... interesting, I guess. Characterization is decent, for the most part - although some moments, especially early on gave me a pause, it more than makes up for it in other places. 7/10

Overall impressions so far: Much better than the first set of 9, which often were too deeply rooted in nostalgia to try to offer anything unique. And, I guess, with more writers having a chance to read each others works, the characterization is a bit more consistent (not for every writer, mind, but, in general). How long does it take for them to write a novel of this length, I wonder? A book a month is a rather grueling pace for the series - how far in advance do they start? How many other books come out during that time?

Sam in particular incrementally found her footing (though, there is a bit of a lag from novel to novel). Instead of imagining literally any other companion, there were certain novels that really helped me to grasp her character. Though, hmm... being Doctor’s companion is not a safe job by any stretch of imagination, but this girl has really been through a wringer. I’m rather struggling to think of any other companion that has been put through so much (non-lethal) battering. There comes a point when one just wants to just to let her have some good time. And, uh, there was a horrible thought that occurred to me, and went to look up how she will depart the TARDIS in the end, and... well, I have a feeling that sometime afterwards I will not like what will happen.

Also, there is this trend of separating her and the Doctor, for a prolonged period of time, them having no idea where to find each other, without any contact, just, stumbling onto one another eventually. It’s a way for writers to have them cover more narrative ground, and you certainly don’t want them attached by the hip, but when they spend less than 20 pages a book in each other’s company, that’s, uh... not a trend I particularly care for.

Well, onto the next batch where we meet Fitz, and say good bye to Sam.

Next part here

#doctor who #eighth doctor #eighth doctor adventures #eda

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straynstay · 5 years

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Double Knot theory

this might be completely wrong, sorry lol it took me the whole day to come up with this, my head hurts lol

Alrighty peeps, here I am again with another attempt in trying to understand what’s behind the minds of SKZ when it comes to concepts, so I’m gonna analyze Double Knot on my yeezys after watching several times all their MVs (yes, I’m crazy lol). I’m not gonna be able to put pics of everything here cause tumblr sucks sometimes, but you can check the MVs to see what I’m talking about in case you don’t remember or didn’t notice. BARE WITH ME CAUSE THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG RIDE!

Starting with District 9 (where it all began), we have Mr. Bang Chan (the one in charge of their duties, therefore the leader) that sees a red flower and realizes that something is not right because if everything is monochromatic, how can there be a red flower? A glitch? An abnormality in their reality?

I think that the flower is a Poisenttia, but I don’t understand much of flowers, so I might be wrong. But if it’s really a Poisenttia, it could mean that the flower is pointing them to “salvation” since, according to Google, this flower is used during Christmas to symbolize the star of Bethlehem which led the Wise Men to where Jesus was born. So maybe the flower is showing that there’s a way out of this controlled reality they’re in? Maybe... (or maybe the flower will lead them to the big boss).

Moving on, Chan runs away to find that one of the drones that was watching them has crashed with a glass (?), making him place his hand on the panel that is projecting their world, and it wobbles (idk), meaning that they’re in a fake reality (everything is not what it seems!!)

Chan then hands out red papers with an encrypted message (I tried really hard reading what was on it, but it looks like and alien language or sth) to all SKZ members and they all get inside the bus (I’ve always wondered who’s driving the bus…) to break free from that reality and they enter another reality, a post-apocalyptic one, kinda lol, which is District 9 and they think they rule it cause they raised their flags there (but they’re not the ones in control, sorry boys)

And at the end we see the Stray Kids logo with black letters and the K in red. My mind went crazy and thought: S T R A Y K I D S = 9 letters, but one is different. > 9 boys, but one is different. Who? I think is Hyunjin because he’s the only one that looks at Chan after receiving the paper to escape and because he’s the one that the camera shows right after we see their logo on the floor lol So what I take from this is that Stray Kids now has become a glitch in their perfect system, but Hyunjin is not completely okay with it.

Moving on, in Mirror (not Miroh) we have Hyunjin alone in a room with 9 chairs, which I think that while the others left, he stayed behind. He’s writing on a piece of paper: who am I? where am I? I am not me (and the pencil dramatically breaks). They repeat several times “I don’t even know who I am, I just came along as they told me to” so I’m assuming Hyunjin is the one who’s still lost while SKZ is trying to break free, and maybe he’s having a hard time trusting Chan cause in the end Chan and Hyunjin are facing each other (don’t fight boys lol).

And I say that Hyunjin is the different one by watching subtle things in other MVs (like Voices, MIA, My Pace...) in which the scenario changes suddenly when his part comes, or when it doesn’t glitch as much as the others, etc., which makes me believe my theory that he’s the odd one, the one that actually doesn’t want to be part of the group.

May I add that in My Pace they’re all stepping on red pamphlets on the floor that says “Just stay in my lane”… and they’re not staying in their lane anymore? (you can’t control SKZ trying to take over the system).

Now we move on to I Am You MV which is the sequel to My Pace, right? So we see them after glitching a lot in My Pace and they’re still being watched, but now Jisung breaks a surveillance camera lol and they move to another post-apocalyptic scenario cause, let’s be honest, who would live on that rooftop with drawings of a couch and a plant if it wasn’t for the end of the world? But what called my attention was the fact that we see Jeongin’s reflection on a puddle and we see two moons (hi Side Effects and Double Knot), they’re on the move on a truck instead of a bus, and we have an interesting scene with Chan and Jeongin’s reflection becoming one (so they’re indeed in this together), but what about Hyunjin? Well, we see him assembling something like a bat-signal that has SKZ logo on it as if he’s now calling for them…but by the end of the MV their logo still has the K as the odd one out.

So what’s all this about? In my weird mind, Chan discovered that they were living a lie, being controlled and told what to do and decided to break free from all of it, and while the others seem to agree, Hyunjin isn’t fully convinced about it. Maybe he’s scared? He doesn’t know who he actually is, since they all seemed to be in a mind controlling environment being watched 24/7, so he’s lost. The albums go like this in the storyline I’ve created in my mind: I Am Not = I’m not who I think I was, my life has been a lie; I Am Who = who am I? everything is a mess while I’m searching for my own self at my own pace; I Am You = I’m a glitch just like you.

NOW WE MOVE ON TO THE CLÉ SERIES!! (I swear to God SKZ is trying to give me a headache cause I’ve never used my brain this much before in my life lol)

In Miroh (not Mirror lol) we all know now that they are trying to overtake the system. They were able to enter the surveillance room and find those who they thought were controlling them. There’s some signs I was able to check in Miroh during the parade (that I haven’t noticed before) that are quite interesting. The first one says “There is no Tarzan in City Jungle”. Tarzan is considered a wild man, someone who’s not behaving the way society demands since he was raised in the jungle among animals. The other signs say “Something happened, nothing changed” and “The world is the same”, so I’m assuming that society is celebrating the fact that the faulty/glitched ones (the “Tarzans” aka SKZ) are long gone now – since District 9 –, and everything is back to normal with everyone behaving like they should and the system functioning perfectly, but they don’t realize that SKZ figured their way into the City Jungle (aka the central part of the system) and are gonna make a mess in it lol

I have already analyzed Side Effects (you can check it here), but I’m gonna go even crazier now and assume that Side Effects is also them being chased by the “boss” after what they’ve done in Miroh, and they have to follow unlocked roads in order to lay low and not be captured. Maybe that’s why Hyunjin is the nervous one in the MV, fighting Seungmin (cause he’s about to register with a camera where they are and what they’re doing) and Felix (who wants to leave the cart, their ‘safe’ zone), because he didn’t want to be there in the first place. His lines in the song shows he’s afraid and doubting himself.

But at the end of Side Effects, Hyunjin is now converted to SKZ’s cause, if that makes sense. After everything they’ve gone through, everything that happened in Miroh and the other MVs, he’s finally part of the group. So Chan, as the leader, reaches out to him, and Hyunjin accepts, leaving a key behind – which I think might be what he was holding onto since District 9 (cause they all had separate rooms in that ‘prison’ and that key looks like a regular room key and not one of the fancy keys that show up on Double Knot). Now they’re gonna walk their path as a unit, not individuals.

Alright, that being said, I’m gonna move on to Double Knot. In Double Knot we see them walking on a road that looks almost exactly like the one they’ve been staring at in Victory Song in a city with two moons, so that means that after running a lot in Side Effects, they’ve reached their destination = the city. 9 fancy keys appear on top of some maps, so I’m assuming everything is complete now. We see an Astronaut billboard and we also have “take off” being showed in a bracelet, a ring, a necklace, and on the road. I’ll comment on those two later.

Right, so here comes the fun parts of this analysis. When Jisung (?) ties his laces, the ground becomes glitched as if something (aka SKZ) is interfering in the system (we can see signal written, so it means ‘no signal’ or ‘error-signal’).

And now EVERYTHING STARTS TO MAKE SENSE! Because SKZ now knows that since everyone is in this together after Hyunjin decided to join them in Side Effects, they can play with the glitches! Let me try to explain it better: after watching this MV and the others, I now see their concept kinda like Wreck It Ralph, if you know what I mean lol They’re not where they were supposed to be and they’re glitching inside a world that’s being projected to them, a fake world in which someone is in charge, but they broke free from that control, so now that they’re complete as a unit, they can be like Vanellope and play around with the faulty system that can’t handle them, meaning that they’re free and can go anywhere, change from one to another, lag the system and confuse the hell out of whoever is still trying to stop them.

This MV has more glitches and interferences than any other one, so it probably means they’re closer to the end than before. I don’t know if they’re trying to reach the main core or anything like this, but I do believe that this is not the end for them, I still think that there’s a final boss even after Miroh... but this is just me guessing lol

Minho, Jeongin and Seungmin see that they’re still being watched by a drone (kinda like District 9) and they’re recognized by the system (can you see their names on the side of the screen right below Stray Kids?), maybe the system is trying to get rid of the glitches?

Hyunjin is running alone on the street until he reaches a crossroad (now he doesn’t have to choose which road to take, he can go anywhere) and then after running some more he finds a key with the SKZ logo on the floor. This key is the same key that Chan uses to unlock the Yellow Wood on the elevator, btw, and the same key that we see him trying to open the white door with; the same door that Chan peeks through the key hole and sees himself and the SKZ on the sky, somewhat in a heroic kinda pose, right?

“ERROR-SIGNAL” shows up at the end when they’re all together, and we see that the Stray Kids logo is now all white (they’re all the same now). At the end, there’s blue while we see the interferences, which I think is because they’re gonna go up to the sky in Levanter.

THEY’RE GONNA TAKE OFF TO THE MOON!!! or not lol mark my words: Stray Kids everywhere all around the UNIVERSE! the world is too small for them now! The MV also shows “the owners of Clé”, meaning that they’ve learned how to make the system work for them now. GO, STRAY KIDS!

Something weird that I noticed while watching the MVs is that they’re always on rooftops (in Victory Song, Voices, I Am You, Miroh, etc), as if they’re trying to reach higher than that, but can’t or don’t know how to yet. They need an Astronaut to help them Take Off (see what I did here?), and I believe that the answer is behind the white door that Chan is about to open. Now I have no idea who or what might the astronaut, or what’s behind that door, but I hope we get more answers in Levanter.

Wow, I think I wrote a lot and there’s still much more that we can talk about this MV and SKZ’s concept. Maybe I’m dead wrong, but this is how I interpreted the story, so feel free to discuss your ideas with me if you want to~

STRAY KIDS MAKE ME PROUD AND THAT’S ALL THAT MATTERS ♥️

#stray kids #stray kids theory #stray kids comeback #double knot #skz #stray kids reactions #bang chan #woojin #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #jisung #felix #seungmin #jeongin

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quickspinner · 4 years

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Second Chance - Ch 1 The One That Got Away

Hello friends! Continuing posting my backlog of work that was posted to AO3 but not Tumblr. You can filter the backlog tag if you don’t want to see these fyi.

Summary:

It's been years since he last saw Marinette. He's a successful rock star and she's been traveling the world chasing her dreams. Luka thought he had grown up and moved on, but when Marinette lands back in Paris and seeks him out, it takes about ten seconds for him to figure out he can't resist a second chance.

Aged-up, total self-indulgent Lukanette fluff. There will be some implied sexual content later on but nothing explicit.

The beginning of this first chapter comes from the last chapter of I Will Give You the Stars, and while you don’t have to have read that one first, the two stories do go well together.

Luka tossed his sweaty hair back from his face and looked out at the blinding lights. “Okay guys,” he said into the microphone, picking idly at his guitar. “I think we’re gonna take it down a bit for this next song. But first, can we bring the house lights up please?”

Used to his quirks, the lighting crew responded quickly, dimming the lights in his eyes and turning up the lights on the crowd in the packed stadium.

“That’s better,” Luka said, skimming the crowd of fans waving and screaming wildly. “I know this might be kinda weird if this is your first show with me, but I just like to see you. Put some faces to my audience. This is a two way street, you and me, and I don’t wanna forget that.”

A small crowd of girls off to his right screamed in rehearsed unison, “WE LOVE YOU LUKA!”

He grinned toward them and winked. “Love you too, sweethearts.” As they shrieked excitedly he looked at the banner they were holding up, decorated with birthday cakes and glittery letters. “Seventeen huh? Nice. Happy birthday, babe.” The girl in the middle of the group wearing a sparkly tiara put her hands over her mouth, eyes huge, while her friends practically mobbed her. Luka chuckled and returned to his perusal of the crowd, meeting as many eyes as he could. Somewhere a group of fans screamed for Juleka and out of the corner of his eye he could see her raise a lace-gloved hand to blow them a kiss.

Suddenly he locked eyes with a familiar sapphire gaze and the rest of the stadium disappeared.

“Well hey there, beautiful,” he said softly, ignoring the several ladies in the line of his gaze who swooned or screamed. She knew who he was talking to, a slow smile spreading over her face. “I didn’t know you were back in Paris.” His grin widened as he took in the faces around her. “Wow, check it out Jules, looks like a bunch of old friends came to see us tonight. Awesome.”

He tore his gaze away with effort, and looked up to the balcony. He couldn’t see faces up there as well, but he let his gaze rake across slowly before nodding. “All right. Now that we know each other, let’s get back to the music, shall we?”

The lighting crew recognized their cue, and the blinding lights were back as the stadium went dark. Luka stepped back from the mic for a moment to take a deep, centering breath, focusing on the vibrations of the stage that he could feel even through his heavy boots, the feel of his guitar in his hands, and the song he could still hear ringing in his mind even though he couldn’t see her anymore.

Then his fingers began to move, and he stepped back up to the mic.

***

They didn’t get to meet their friends that night, which was just as well as far as Luka was concerned. He wasn’t ever at his best right after a show, sweaty and sore and exhausted and he definitely didn’t want to see her looking like he’d just been run over by his tour bus. But Rose—bless beautiful, sweet, romantic Rose—Rose had his back. When Juleka wasn’t looking, Rose slipped a piece of paper in his hand that had a phone number, a time, and the name of his favorite café. “I knew you’d be free in the morning,” she whispered. “I figured you wouldn’t mind missing out on the sleep.”

“You’re the best,” he whispered back, slipping the paper in his pocket as Rose glanced anxiously at Juleka.

Marinette was already waiting outside the next morning as he walked up, looking like she’d walked straight out of his dreams. She caught sight of him and smiled, turning to face him as his heart skipped a few beats.

He was a grown-ass man and a legitimate rock star, and that smile still did things to him.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Luka grinned, opening his arms. “It’s been a long time.”

“Hi Luka,” Marinette smiled, coming into his arms to hug him and then rising on her toes to exchange cheek kisses. “The show last night was great.”

“It was great to have you guys there,” Luka said, letting her go and opening the café door for her. “I have to admit, I’m getting kinda sick of big shows. I miss connecting with people the way I did when I was playing smaller venues.”

“The price of being a famous rock star,” she said as he pulled out a chair for her at his usual table.

“Not that famous,” he protested, sitting down across from her.

“Pretty famous,” she grinned, leaning her elbows on the table to look up at him.

He shrugged and grinned at the ground. “Yeah, okay, maybe.”

Marinette smiled. “I’m glad it hasn’t changed you, Luka.”

“So when did you get back in town?” Luka asked, ready to be done talking about himself.

“Two nights ago.”

“And the first thing you did was come see my show? I’m flattered.”

“Really, I was lucky,” Marinette admitted. “The others got tickets ages ago, before I knew I would be here, but Mylene’s at that stage of pregnancy where she’s falling asleep all the time, so she gave me her ticket. I think Ivan was relieved, actually.”

Luka picked up her hand. “Marinette, any time you want to come to a performance you know you just have to ask.”

“Says the man who’s changed his number four times in the last year,” she teased.

Luka winced. “Yeah this whole fame thing really puts a crimp in my social life sometimes. I have a whole new appreciation for what Adrien went through in school. At least not that many people recognize me like this.” He gestured to his casual outfit, black jeans and a plain grey tshirt that were a far cry from his elaborate stage costumes and makeup. “Sometimes people recognize the hair and the ink but mostly I get left alone as long as I keep a low profile.”

Marinette rested her chin on her hand and smiled up at him. “I like the hair. Must be cooler on stage this way, and it photographs better. Your eyes are too nice to be hidden all the time.”

“So my agent told me,” Luka sighed, running his hand over the short hair beneath the blue tinted locks falling from the top. “And you’re right, it is cooler. I like yours too,” he added, reaching out his free hand to tweak a loose strand on her shoulder. “You look good with it long. Anyway, I’m sorry about the phone thing. I’ll give you my assistant’s number before we leave, she can always put you through if I have to change it again. I don’t want to lose touch with you over something so stupid.” He realized suddenly that she was blushing, watching his thumb move over her fingers. Fortunately the waiter approached just at that moment, giving him an excuse to let go of her hand casually.

Luka was a regular here and he chatted easily with the staff as they came and went with water and menus, but he had a hard time keeping his eyes off Marinette. Damn, after all this time she still affected him the same way, drawing him in like a magnet. Like him, she was dressed casually, in jeans and a fitted shirt with a wide neck that left a distracting amount of her freckled shoulders and collarbone bare. She was everything he remembered, just matured, mellowed, more. He’d known in his gut that he was on a high-speed train to heartbreak the minute he’d locked eyes with her in the show.

“Tell me what you’ve been doing since you left,” Luka said as soon as the staff had left with their orders.

“So many things,” Marinette breathed. “Luka, it was amazing, I learned so much and I got to see and do so much.”

“Tell me,” he murmured, leaning on the table, already entranced by her passion. God, he needed his guitar, he could write whole albums on the look in her eyes right now.

She brightened, pulling out a battered sketchbook. Luka moved his chair around the table to be next to her and propped his chin in his hand, letting her voice wash over him as she took him on a tour of her dreams.

“I’m not boring you, am I?” she asked suddenly, looking up at him with slightly wide eyes that reminded him of the nervous girl who’d walked into his room all those years ago.

“Not in the least,” he told her and he knew he must be giving her some kind of look because her blush spread down to her neckline.

He was saved from doing something reckless by the arrival of their food. Clearing his throat, he moved back to his end of the table and asked about her parents.

They talked about their families as they ate, the crazy things Anarka got up to that Luka had to bail her out of (sometimes with the police, once literally when there was a mishap on the boat), how Marinette’s parents had coped with her two-year absence, what their mutual friends had been up to.

And she told him about the things that hadn’t been so great about her trip, the jet lag and the long hours, picking up from one city and moving on just when she’d finally gotten comfortable, the frustrations of frequently having conversations in English when it was neither conversant’s first language.

“Every time I’d get depressed I’d feel ungrateful,” she told him, idly picking apart what was left of her food. “Like, so many people entered that competition and out of everyone they chose me to have this fantastic experience in all these different design houses, and there I was acting homesick and lonely. And...meeting so many new people made me realize how rare and precious my true friends are...and how maybe there were some I didn’t appreciate enough.” She glanced up at him through her lashes, biting her lip, and he swallowed hard and tried to think of something to say.

Before he could, she pushed her plate away and abruptly changed the subject. “So, when are you going to put out another calendar?” She ginned.

Luka groaned and put his face down on the table. “Please tell me you didn’t see one of those.”

“Oh I very much did,” she laughed. “If I can find it once I’m unpacked maybe you’ll sign it for me. October was my favorite, though July was probably the most...hmm...inspiring.” She laughed as he put his arms over his head, partly to cover the brilliant red that he was sure covered his neck and ears. “Luka Couffaine, are you actually embarrassed?”

“Thoroughly,” he said from beneath his arms. Sighing, he forced himself to sit up, scrubbing at his face with his hands. “I try really hard to pretend that whole thing never happened, honestly. I felt like such a—“ He shook his head.

“Was it really awful?” She asked, her amusement turning to sympathy.

“I hated every minute of it,” he said bluntly. “I didn’t want to do it but a bunch of things happened at once right then and my family really needed the money. And I figured, better me than Juleka, who knows what they’d have wanted her to do and her fans are way scarier than mine.” He made a face. “Don’t tell her I said that, she’ll get all pissed at me for getting all big brothery on her.”

“I’m sorry, Luka, I didn’t know.” Marinette reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I won’t tease you about it anymore.”

“Thanks.” His mouth quirked up at the corner. “October, huh? That was the black and white one, right? That one wasn’t so bad. At least it was artistic. And I got to wear actual pants.”

Marinette giggled. “And you made them look good. It was a good picture. Sexy, but soulful. And with the guitar and the ripped jeans, it felt like I was seeing you, and not a stranger who kinda looked like you, you know.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “Honestly it wasn’t the pictures I minded so much, my agent kept the really embarrassing ones out of it and we made sure they were destroyed, just I could have lived without being treated like a doll without any feelings or dignity.”

“Mmm, I see that a lot. A lot of designers and stylists stop seeing models as people. I guess knowing Adrien for so many years made it hard for me to think that way. The designers I was shadowing got really frustrated with me because of it.”

“Maybe I’m hopelessly optimistic but I think your way will pay off in the end.” He winked at her. “I can guarantee that if I ever have to do anything like that again, I’ll be calling you to be my stylist. If this tour weren't already under contract I’d hire you on the spot.”

Marinette kicked him under the table. “You’re biased, Luka.”

“Always have been when it comes to you. Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“Luka,” she began and then hesitated. He waited patiently, though curiosity was eating him alive as she licked her lips and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Listen I know you’re really busy and your schedule’s kind of crazy and it was already super nice of you to make time to have lunch with me—“ Luka had to cover the smile tugging at his lips with his hand at this very Marinette ramble. “But I was wondering, if you might want to have dinner with me, um...as a date.” She swallowed and looked up at him and he could not believe that she thought for one second he might actually say no.

“Hell yeah,” he grinned, reaching out to take her hand. “I mean I do have to check my schedule, but I’ll make time. I’ll call you? Probably not tonight, but no later than tomorrow evening, I promise.”

His phone alarm went off in his pocket before he’d even finished speaking, and he sighed, pulling it out.

“You have to go?” Marinette smiled crookedly.

“Yeah, I do,” he said, silencing the alarm and putting his phone away. He reached across the table and took her both hands in his. “It’s been great seeing you again Marinette. I’m so glad we’ve been able to catch up.” He kissed her hands as he stood up. “I’ll call you soon, okay?”

“Was everything to your satisfaction, Mr. Couffaine?”

Luka turned, grasping the hand offered by the suited man behind him. “Fantastic as always, Gerard, and how many times do I have to tell you to call me Luka?” Gerard smiled under his mustache but didn’t reply. “Please let the lady have whatever she’d like for dessert on my tab, okay?”

“Of course, Mr. Couffaine.”

Luka rolled his eyes and smiled back at a Marinette one more time with a quick wave, her own smile warming him as he turned to go.

The minute the studio's car service picked him up, his phone was in his hand. “Lucille,” he said when his assistant picked up, hoping she couldn’t hear the idiotic grin on his face. “Yeah, I’m on my way, but have you got a few minutes? Can you run me through what my schedule looks like? I need you to free up an evening for me in the next week.”

It took more than a few minutes, and he had to cancel three meetings and move back a rehearsal, but he could not bring himself to care.

Because when the one that got away suddenly walks back into your life and asks you out, who gives a crap about meetings?

#quickspins #backlog #yes give me all the lukanette hugs #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #mlfics #second chance

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theclampdown · 3 years

Note

Ryuji + Han Joon-gi (rgg7) + Haruka (u dont have to do all of them unless u want to <3)

ty for sending an ask! second time answering this because tumblr killed it the first time i tried to answer :,) yes im going to answer all 3 because i love saying my opinions on things. there is probably typos in this bc tumblr was lagging big time as i wrote it

ryuji

First impression: i was like wow! big blond dude! he’s kind of a dick!

Impression now: hes so funny i love him <3 hes a fun antagonist because like, while hes definetly a cunt hes got morals. genuinely hes interesting in the way he and kiryu interact and also i love the like, tattoo symbolisms...

Favorite moment: the part where he crashes the funeral at tojo hq is good even though he is mean to yayoi >:( it was fun seeing him be a cunt to everybody else though

Idea for a story: i dont know but whatever the hell is going on in rggo is fascinating to me

Unpopular opinion: idk if this is that unpopular but it is unpopular within my household (aka with my older sister) he is quite handsome and his jacket looks great

Favorite relationship: if i treat sayama only as a concept and not as like, the actual character she is, their relationship is very sweet. ryuji going ‘aw shit i have a little sister i gotta protect her’ is touching even though he dies a completely avoidable death right after

Favorite headcanon: his hair is like, completely and utterly dead considering he’s been dying it since the late 80s. you touch it and it just breaks off

han joon-gi

First impression: i basically did the same as saeko. i was like wow hot dude -> hes still hot but hes an asshole

Impression now: one of my faves of rgg7 for sure! his hitman moveset kicks so much ass and i think hes a very fun character. his dynamic w the rest of the party is really fun and all his drink links n party chats are so funny. hes like, maybe just a little Eccentric but in a cool way he’s a cool dude

Favorite moment: his last drink link made me a little emotional. hes a good person. also when he rescued ichiban and co i saw him roundhouse kick a man in the face and fell in LOVE

Idea for a story: not a story nesc but i want him to do karaoke. please god let him do karaoke

Unpopular opinion: im discovering that im so bad at ‘unpopular’ opinions. most rgg fans seem to think that he’s cishet but hes not hes got genders

Favorite relationship: him and saeko are really funny bc shes goofy and teasing and he is just :-) also him and seong-hui have a fun siblings relationship and he clearly respects her a lot

Favorite headcanon: hes a bit of a food snob and sometimes he and zhao cook together and sometimes even make lunch for the rest of the crew :)

Haruka

first impression: i was like there is a child alone in the city. this is my daughter now

impression now: shes STILL my daughter (even in rgg5 where she is my age) and i love her so much shes got such a good growth in the series and shes so good. i love her

Favorite moment: every time she interacts w her siblings i go :D also when she threw a fire extinguisher at a man’s head in rgg5

Idea for a story: maybe just like, her re-adjusting to life in okinawa after rgg5. going back to normality and all. i think shes got Chronic eldest sibling disease only due to the insane nature of her life so i think it would be nice to see her re-bond w her siblings

Unpopular opinion: idk wahts unpopular. genuinely though i think that like, as much as kiryu and haruka care for each other and love each other so so much obviously i think just bc the crazy nature of kiryu’s life it affected haruka a lot but nobody ever really talks about that part of their relationship yk. kiryu absolutely did the best he could to parent her and did a great job but like, haruka probably was affected p badly by it all

Favorite relationship: her and her siblings... WAH also her and akiyama are funny in rgg5 i love them

Favorite headcanon: i think that she cuts her hair short after rgg5. just for fun and a change of pace

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peggysousfan · 4 years

Text

Anomaly Misfire

This is the fic add on to the edit I had posted previously to do with Bellarke. The Anomaly sends Bellamy back in time to Earth after Primfaya, what will happen when he sees Clarke? This is based on a gif set I saw on Tumblr lol its amazing and looks so real, I wish it were.

"It's been 58 days. By now, Monty should have the algae farm producing." Clarke speaks through a makeshift radio while eating a few berries she found in the valley. Compared to algae, berries were better. "How bad does it suck? No offense Monty." She stops speaking but only hears static. She never gets a reply to her calls. "And I found berries, a whole field of them! They're not very sweet, but they're beautiful. I think that's what they used to make the paint for-"

As Clarke speaks through the radio and turns her head aside to look at the paint on a house, an illuminating green swirl appears seemingly out of no where. A small crackle of lights move through before the green mist vanished, leaving behind something- or rather someone. She stands up from her chair and cautiously steps closer to the man left behind by the mysterious green swirl.

"Clarke?" He whispers with his hands out stretched, unsure how to proceed. Her hair is longer than it was at Sanctum, and from the looks of his surroundings he's back at Shadow Valley.

"Be-Bellamy?!" Her voice cracks a bit as she looks around unsure if she's hallucinating from the radiation and dehydration. She did just discover the valley not too long ago after all.

"Wher-uh... I'm back on Earth? How..." He looks around and walks but before he's aware, a pair of arms wrap around his torso, blonde hair now fills under his chin. He chuckles and embraces her back, but what he doesn't expect is her to panic and start dragging him to the rover. "Clarke? What are you-"

"We have to get you to Becca's lab before the radiation sets in and kills you! Bellamy..." She turns around to face him, worry etched in her face. "It hasn't been five years. Its not safe for you to be here."

He chuckles lightly and halts to a stop, confusing Clarke. She pulls him more but he continues to laugh.

"Bellamy!?"

He takes her hand in his and walks back to the table where she was sitting before he had appeared. He then notices the radio and sighs. Madi was right, she did call to him while he was in space. At this thought he looks around.

"Where's Madi?" Now Clarke is even more confused.

"Who's Madi?"

"Your daughter..."

His words barely process through her mind as they stand near each other. But as Bellamy sees the perplexed expression over Clarke's face, he realizes they haven't met yet. That is, if he's thinking correctly about where and when he is in time.

"Bell I don't have a-" But before she can finish her sentence, she stops and looks to her left. A child stands from a distance and watched them. "Oh my God..."

The little girl runs off and before Bellamy knows it, Clarke runs after her. "Clarke!" But its no use, she can't hear him.

With a huffed breath he runs after her. He catches up to her within moments, trees and branches hanging in his face as he tries to smack them away. Its been a long time since he's been on earth, when things actually made since then. Clarke shouts in Trigedasleng to grab the girls attention, but she keeps going further into the woods. Bellamy stops running when he sees Clarke stop, she's looking at a child with crazed hair from afar. That has to be Madi. He thinks. But in the blink of an eye she runs off again. Clarke doesn't hesitate to run after her and so Bellamy follows them with a roll of his eyes. How can a small child run this fast? Clarke is still ahead of him but her voice echoes through the trees.

"Wait! Are you alone? Are there others?" She stops running to look at her surrounds and stops when she sees the little girl staring at her on the trail. Clarke speaks in trig once more.She says, "You're a nightblood, right?"

Clarke steps forward cautiously, trying to talk down to the girl, but she doesn't move. Instead Clarke does and eventually steps into a bear trap. She screams out in pain from the metal piercing the skin of her leg. Bellamy hears and runs faster. The little girl attacks Clarke in the mean time, attempting to stab her with a knife. She avoid most of the blows but her arm is cut, leaving black to trickle down her arm.

"Clarke!" The valley girl looks up at Bellamy and runs in the opposite direction, but seeing as Clarke is screeching in agony, his main focus on her. Bellamy bends down and helps her out of the bear trap, then carries her back to the village, but not without fight. He sets her down after a while and she limps into one of the houses.

She grabs her bag on the way to sitting down on a table, ripping her pants leg as she does so. Bellamy tries to help but isn't sure what to do. "Its okay, Bellamy. I-I got it." Her words come out in a stutter as she hurriedly grabs a thread and needle. At first she hesitates, but proceeds to stitch up the gashes on her leg. The only thing Bellamy can do is sit and listen to her agonizing sounds. After she's done, she passes out from the pain, but not before Bellamy rushes to her side and catches her head.

Clarke stays unconscious for several hours, so long he starts to worry about her. He periodically checks the wound and takes the liberty of cleaning it up as much, and as gently, as he can. But after several more minutes of waiting, and dozing off himself, Clarke wakes and startles at the pain in her leg.

"Hey hey hey! Easy... don't hurt yourself." Clarke jumps slightly before remembering Bellamy's presence. It takes a few moments before she realizes he isn't burning from radiation.

"You're... you're okay?" Her arm reaches out to him, inspecting the skin on his neck, hands, and face.

"Me? Of course I'm fine. You're the one that stepped into a bear trap."

Clarke thinks for a moment as the memories flood back into her mind, but right now the tap isn't her main concern. "No, that's not- Bellamy... how are you still alive? The radiation levels aren't safe. And how did you even get back?"

"Uhh... well I can answer one question." He shrugs and smiles, though she's still unhappy with his answer. The glare from her face tells him that very thought, though it is also contorted in pain. "Abby injected us with nightblood before returning to Sanctum." But as he says this his eyes widen and he flinches. "Sorry I didn't mean to... I'm sorry."

"For what? And when did my mom make you a nightblood? You went off to space because the blood wasn't tested. I was the only one who took the syringe and injected myself." It was then he realized that Abby was still alive in the bunker. Clarke hadn't lost her yet. He feels like he should warn her, tell her whats coming, but then again who knows what will happen if he does. "And why are you looking at me like that? You still haven't answered my question of how you got here." Bellamy freezes and looks away from her.

"Look, Clarke, I don't know how I got here. One minute I'm in the Gabriel's tent holding Octavia after she's stabbed, then I'm taken by invisible people through the anomaly. I fought them off and I ended up falling and then landing here."

For several moments she sits quietly trying to process everything Bellamy has just said, and yet none of it makes sense to her. "What!?!? You were just in space with Monty, Raven, and the others. Octavia is still in the bunker and I have no idea who Gabriel is or what the 'Anomaly' is either. And what is Sanctum?"

"Uhh... shit."

"Bellamy?" She presses for more answers but he doesn't budge.

"It's complicated, okay?"

"Complicated." She echoes his words before trying to stand up. He asks what she's doing but shrugs it off. "You wouldn't understand. It's too complicated." She bites back, causing him to startle.

"Clarke come on. Its not easy to explain."

"Really? Then what is?" She turns to look at him over her shoulder and he freezes in place unsure what she means. Clarke scoffs at his confused look and sits facing him. "Bellamy we were born in space, sent to earth with no knowledge if it was inhabitable, then set up camp and fought a war with savages for land. Then Mount weather happened, I was on the run from literally very clan that existed only to be stuck in a worse situation fighting an AI and having to become a nightblood and fight off a whole city of innocent people. Then after almost dying I find out the world was once again going to burn down into nothing, which left us having to choose and send hundreds of our own people to their deaths! Which left me one of the only people left on Earth above ground. But no, I wouldn't know complicated."

Bellamy inhales a deep breath and sighs, knowing everything she said is true. But what happens next is even worse than what they've faced before. Everything on earth were trial runs building up to Sanctum and the war raging on there.

"You really wanna know?" She gives him to look and he chuckles. Of course she wants to know. "Well, believe it or not I'm from the future."

"Future? Seriously?" He laughs at this and sits back in the chair he occupied before she woke up.

"Yeah. Seriously." Clarke looks at him through the moonlight and does realize he seems different, but she couldn't' think of how much time had changed since then. "Earth becomes uninhabitable within a matter of weeks after 6 years pass by. Once that happens we leave. Travel in our sleep to another planet where...things are the same as Earth. Trouble every where we go. We tried to be peaceful, civil even, but-" As Bellamy stops talking his voice cracks. The memory of figuring out Josephine taking over Clarke's body still haunts him.

"But what?" Her voice is soft and light, curious at why he stopped talking.

"They tried to kill you. I thought you were dead, Clarke." At this Clarke sits up straighter, trying to ignore searing pain in her lag as she does so. "To me and everyone else, you died and there was nothing we could do. There was nothing I could do! Peace was the goal and even though we tried to not.. to- dammit!"

"Bellamy..." She reaches out to him as he jumps from his chair and combs his hand through his hair. His mind fills back with the emotion, the dread, of thinking he had lost her forever.Clarke reaches out and touches his arm, grounding him back to reality.

"I tried, Clarke. I tried to keep the peace but... it didn't work out." he explains everything he could. From the mind drives, to nightblood and its connection, to Russel, Josephine, the Primes, and Sanctum. As well as the rebellion and the strange Anomaly that had taken Octavia back. Bellamy told her everything. As he does so, she sits back and groans from the pain. He reaches out to her but she says she's fine. "Clarke?"

"I-I don't know what to say to that, Bellamy. But now I understand why you apologized for mentioning my mom." He sighs and reaches out to her again, this time she accepts and holds his hand. "So all of this happens and what? We can't change anything can we?"

"I don't think we can."

Silence falls between them as the whirlwind of information is absorbed between them. For the rest of the night nothing else is said, they simply stay, hands together, and content on this moment.

For Clarke it has only been 58 days, but for Bellamy it has been over 70 years with a moment of content silence between them. A lingering, unsaid, feeling moving through the air. In his time living in space, Bellamy never thought he would end up with Echo, and yet he did. His mind says he cares for her, but his heart yearns for another, and still their relationship lingered on. But forces beyond his control tell him that its up to him to take fate in his own hands and be with the one he truly cared for- the one he truly loved- and to do that was to atone for their past mistakes, if only to create a path for their future.

#bellamy x clarke #bellarke #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #anomaly #the 100 #fanfiction #the 100 fic #au #au fic #what if

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beautifulletdownfics · 4 years

Text

‘someday, someday’ :: tumblr edition, #27

In hindsight, given what was happening, I shouldn’t have answered my phone to the unknown number.

The week after we returned from New York was a whirlwind. Harry and I spent our first day back holed up together at his house, snoozing through jet lag and doing our laundry from the trip. I went straight back to rehearsals the day after that, fighting off a tickle in my throat I was adamant wasn’t going to turn into any kind of seasonal head-cold. Harry spent two days in his UK management office, sorting out all the paperwork and legal aspects of him working on his March EP in London with Rodger’s studio before he was straight to work writing and recording.

At some point, I would be joining him in the studio because, as Rod from his management company had alluded to in New York, Harry was hoping to include the song that I helped him with his new releases. He wanted to give me full writer's credit which I was instantly opposed to, but Harry was adamant that without being able to credit my contribution he wouldn't release the song. It was a beautiful song and as much as I was uncomfortable being included, it felt like daylight robbery to have it die because of me.

Alongside that, my dad arrived in town, and in-between my own rehearsals I managed to sneak into his and sit in on him working with the London Symphony. I spent most nights having dinner with him near his hotel and then getting the tube back to my own house because Harry was either out or had already crashed for the night and I didn’t have the heart to disturb his sleep patterns.

Between all this, it was increasingly becoming harder to ignore the chatter that seemed to be following me. I was more and more finding myself ignoring message notification on my phone, avoiding surfing any news sites, and I’d disabled what felt like every possible setting on my social media accounts. Friends from Blackpool and Cambridge were reaching out about Gavin and what he was saying, and more than a few of them were asking questions about Harry. I felt like I was the gatekeeper to some ridiculous secret everyone wanted details on, and what was making me feel sick about it was that, at this stage, the assumption in the gossip mill was simply that I knew Harry. Nobody had run far enough with the whole idea to predict I might be anything other than friends with the famous pop star.

I spent the whole week looking forward to the weekend. Friday night and Saturday were booked doing nothing in particular with Harry. Saturday evening would be spent with Harry, Rodger, Max, Gemma and Ned watching my Dad conduct the London Symphony Orchestra. And Sunday was reserved for spending at Harry’s dealing with whatever hangover resulted from the night before.

So really, answering an unknown caller on Friday just as I was about to text Harry I was on my way and walk into the tube was a stupid move. It was almost certainly going to be someone that I definitely did not want to talk to; still, there was some part of my brain who thought perhaps it was someone from the orchestra whose number I hadn’t saved yet or a call about an appointment I forgot I made.

“Nina, as I live and breathe,” Gavin’s voice was smooth and precise in my ear, “You really did block me number, huh.”

I stopped walking and turned on my heel, trying to escape but having nowhere to go. I briefly considered hanging up out of sheer panic, but I didn’t like the precedence that set. Before I could figure out what the hell to do, he continued speaking. Holding my trumpet case in one hand and the phone in the other, I ducked into a shop alcove and stared blankly at the passing people in disbelief.

“You’re a tricky woman to get a hold of these days,” He crooned, “Shacking up with a pop star has changed you.”

"Gavin," I said, my voice shaking in a way I couldn't control, "What can I help you with?"

"Straight into assuming I need something from you," Gavin said with a tut, "I was calling to congratulate you. I underestimated you, which isn't something I care to admit."

I tried to give my voice a chipper edge, "That's big of you."

"What I can't figure out though is what he gets out of it," Gavin asked, sounding pleased with himself, "Styles doesn't strike me as needing numbers in the symphonic community."

"You don't know the first thing about Harry," I snapped quickly, immediately regretting it.

"Clearly," Gavin agreed eerily quickly, I'd played right into his hands, "Although no, that's probably not entirely fair to say. On paper, you're a catch. He'd have to have an ego on him, lesser men have fallen into the same trap."

"Gavin," I breathed out, losing my patience with his bating me. My heart was racing, and I turned back into the tube just so I could find somewhere to sit. "Why are you calling?"

"Just checking in," He said defensively, "Been getting loads of questions about you and wanted to speak to the legend herself. Couldn't believe Leon when he saw you at New Years, I was sorry to miss it."

"You're getting questions because you practically begged for the attention," I whispered quickly, suddenly surrounded by other people waiting for the train to pull up.

"Hey," He sneered down the phone, "I can share whatever the fuck I want online, hear me? It's not like Harry fucking Styles is going to sacrifice his perfect little media identity to correct the record for your sorry arse. Not that I technically said anything he needs to get his knickers in a twist about."

"What do you want from me?"

"Nothing," Gavin all but spat, "What on earth could you possibly have that I would want? It's pathetic to see really, you sucking off The Man to land that interview. Seems I was right, classical music can only get you so far ... You've had to get yourself a famous boyfriend to get anywhere."

"I was in the orchestra before Harry—"

"—Keep telling yourself that, love," He laughed.

"Gavin, just leave me alone, okay? Just ... Don't say shit online about Harry or me. You got the career you wanted, just back off mine, okay?"

"You owe me," He barked, "What on earth makes you think you can tell me how this is going to go?"

Dozens of other conversations with the same tone started layering over in my head, memories from years ago that had taken a long time to write over suddenly crashed through my mind and seized me up inside. He was just the same as always, and having been away from Gavin for so long supplied the harsh reality it—of what he had always been like—that much more jarring. I stopped speaking, which always resulted in Gavin's poison gaining momentum. I found a seat on the tube and pushed myself as far against the glass as I could, adrenalin was making my legs weak, and my eyes star.

"Do you know how embarrassing it was to have my girlfriend go fucking crazy and fall off the deep end?" He continued.

"I'm not crazy," I said weakly, feeling my eyes heat and my throat constrict.

He laughed sarcastically, "Love, you went full One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, we all know it. Jesus Christ, the questions I got when you fucked off. Humiliating is an understatement, I—."

With shaking hands, I held my phone out in front of my face, hearing him continuing to speak but not understanding the words correctly. I pressed the hang-up button and hurrying to go into my call log and block the number. After my phone was safely on aeroplane mode, I slipped it under my thigh and looked out the window at the black tunnel passing by, my own reflection staring back at me.

I looked crazy.

+++

I loved the London underground.

On weekend nights everyone is dressed up and smells terrific, the carriages are dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lights, and there’s an air of something intrinsically seductive and winsome. Business people coming home have the relieved look of people who have earned their weekend breaks, and people on their way out have a joyous look of the pending release.

It can be so relaxing, and it's the only place in the world I have ever enjoyed the company of strangers. Because they're non-threatening, and I know they’re not expecting anything from me. I can be invisible, hiding behind anonymity and the simple fact that everyone has somewhere to be, people to meet and life to live.

I distracted myself with these thoughts as I sat on the train, swinging between digesting the call with Gavin and pretending it didn't happen by watching the people of London around me. I hadn't been paying attention to the train I got on and ended up heading in the opposite direction I usually did. I stumbled out of the carriage at some point and changed direction back into the city.

But when the Baker St underground came, I didn’t get off like I should have.

I needed to get on the Hammersmith and City line, but when Baker St came and disappeared again, and I was still firmly planted in my spot in the carriage. I did a quick calculation in my head and figured I could get off at Edgeware Rd, the next stop, and then go back.

But I didn’t.

I completely froze.

The station spun by, and the train breathed with passengers going off and new ones getting on.

Four stops came and went that way. I sat clasping my phone in my lap and trying everything I could to calm my thudding heart enough to allow me to get out at the next stop. I had to get off, I had to call Harry.

Or Max. Or Rodger. My dad. Anyone.

But I was sat on a train on the other side of London to them all. I told Harry I would let him know when my rehearsals finished for the day to see if he was still working with Rodger or if he was already heading home. If he was still with Rodger, we had plans to get dinner nearby before heading to North London where his home was. If Harry was already on his way home, I was going to get the tube to him.

An announcement came over the carriage speakers saying that the next stop, Shepherd’s Bush Market, was the last of the line and all passengers needed to disembark.

Ten minutes later, I found myself standing outside the station, trying to create an idea in my head of what was around this area. It was nearing seven o’clock by this stage, and the only thing I knew would be open was London Westfield, just a short walk away.

I put my phone into my blazer pocket, trying to forget I owned it at all, and followed the crowd into the shopping centre, my instrument case heavy at my side.

Most of the shops were shut, or closing, but the centre stayed open late for the cinema and restaurants dotted throughout.

I walked through numbly, my eyes flitting around all the different exhibits and stores. Most of them were familiar, but there was a level of comfort in the fact there were only a handful of other people I was sharing the space with. I liked being able to hear my heels click on the shiny floors, and the way the music playing through the speakers could be easily deciphered.

I recognised the Ed Sheeran song currently playing, but it was hearing another melody cut over it that halted me in my spot, and I wondered how it had been able to sneak up on me.

‘Romanza’ by Chopin.

A song more familiar to me than any pop song, one that had been familiar for years in a style that was as easy as breathing for me to inhabit.

My steps automatically quickened, and I found myself darting my gaze around, trying to follow the sound. I turned a final corner and hit what Rodger liked to refer to as the ‘Paris End’ of Westfield, where all the high end and designer stores were. The lighting up here was softer, the stores were guarded and underneath an impressive crystal chandelier was a black Bösendorfer grand piano.

There were armchairs arranged in a circle to the side of the piano, and I slowly slipped myself into one, putting my case down and not taking my eyes of the young man playing exquisitely for the whole shopping centre to hear. The acoustics were amazing.

With a small nod and a smile, he acknowledged my arrival but went back to his former state; eyes

closed, back swaying back and forward, and a blissfully serene look on his face. I was jealous of him.

The calmness of the piece eventually overtook me as well, and I rested my head back comfortably and shut my eyes to really hear what was being played. My heartbeat slowed, and the noise in my head disappeared. The scratchiness of my trousers and the damage my simple, black boots had done my feet disintegrated with it.

All that existed was a beautiful piano concerto being played, and my witnessing it.

Halfway through Debussy’s ‘Reflects Dan L’eau’ when I snapped back into the present by the bungle of three completely wrong notes, all in quick succession to each other. My eyes fluttered open and the way the shiny, reflective roof of the shopping centre took several moments to clear from my blurry eyes told me they had been shut for quite a while.

“Thought you’d drifted off, Miss,” he called out through a smile, slowing his playing and speaking over the piano. Something in the glint in his eye told me he knew messing up the notes would be the fastest way of catching my attention. His eyes fell on the instrument case at my feet.

“No,” I mumbled, sitting up straighter and watching as he nodded politely and then went back to concentrate on his playing, “I was just listening ...” I added quietly to myself.

The fact that he didn’t seem the slightest bit interested in why I was there, or why I didn’t appear to be making any move to leave pleased me. He simply went back to his playing, and I didn’t see him look my way again.

7:48pm, my phone screen read and when I turned aeroplane mode off the screen lit up with two missed calls from Harry and a string of texts, along with a missed call from Max.

5:12 Hiya, we're wrapping up now, I can swing by Southbank and pick you up for half-past? x

5:25 Sorry, make that 6. Traffic is shocking.

5:38 You're usually finished by now, everything okay?

6:10 Have I completely forgotten something I shouldn't have? Were you going to see your dad?

6:38 Babe, you're worrying me. Call me back x

He was worried, and I felt sick for it. Watching Harry's regular interactions with me and how he was going about a typical Friday night barely felt real. I didn’t know what I felt about what Gavin had said to me, but I knew that as soon as I pinpointed one emotion, the avalanche of all the rest would ensue. And following that would be an overriding sense of panic.

Panic was coming already though, seeping through the gaps and crevasses, damaging the wall blocking out what I was feeling. Because worrying about fear only brought it on faster, making it stronger. It was that double-edged sword of knowing something was coming but then inadvertently making it occur sooner.

I leant forward with my elbows on my knees and my head resting in my hands, putting all my attention on placing my feet in their black heels as close together and perfectly aligned as I could. My phone screen lit up on my lap, and my eyes were drawn to it before I could make myself ignore it.

Everything in me was screaming to call him but because I didn’t know what I would say to him I hesitated. All my mind could make my body focus on was the music swirling around me. It felt like a small miracle to have found it immediately after my conversation with Gavin, to have ended up on this armchair, under a crystal chandelier in the great hall of London Westfield listening to the greats; to Chopin, and Rachmaninoff, and Debussy, and Tchaikovsky. They were being played by a stranger I had never seen before and would never see again but for the last hour everything he had been telling me—everything he was saying through the notes his fingers were commanding—made sense to me. For the last hour, this had been my language, and he was the only other person in the world speaking it.

I looked back down to my phone on my lap. I knew what I had to do, but I didn’t want to. My chest hollowed, blood rushed to my feet, but my thumb was swiping across the glass surface despite the pooling dread.

Harry answered immediately.

“Hey, I've been worried, what's going on?” He urged in a hushed but desperate tone.

“I’m sorry, I'm okay,” I traced the line of my trousers with my thumbnail nervously. I wondered if Harry was at home or not.

I heard him take a deep breath, “You’re okay?” There were a few beats of silence, “Where are you,

Nina?”

“London Westfield,” I said softly.

“London ...” He paused, his voice almost sounding received for a moment like he could conjure a reason why I might have gone there, “Why are you out there?”

“I don’t know,” I muttered pathetically, but it was true. The line was silent for a few painful minutes.

"I'm confused."

"Can I come over?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"Of course," he said quickly, "What's wrong, though? Has something happened?"

"I'm not crazy," I told Harry.

"You're not," Harry said carefully, I clamped my eyes shut knowing I was putting him in a shitty position, "What's happened? I'll come and pick you up."

“Harry, you don't need to—”

“—I'm already in the car," He told me, "Now, tell me what's wrong."

I let out a frustrated sigh and tears slip out despite my telling myself not to, "It's stupid."

"Not if you're this upset by it."

"I spoke to Gavin."

"You spoke to ... What? How? Where was he?"

"Not in person," I corrected Harry, I could hear the sound of his car in the background, "He called on an unknown number, and I was stupid enough to answer. I know I shouldn't have—

“—Nina, what did he say?” Harry said evenly, but the directness of the question hit me square in the chest.

"I don't want to think about it."

"I'm fifteen minutes away. Please tell me, I don't want this fucker getting between us."

Slowly, I recounted the phone conversation to Harry, who quietly listened without interrupting. It was more upsetting the second time around, I found myself unable to believe it happened. To think I had let myself be treated that way at any point was shameful and by the time I finished telling Harry, I very much wished I hadn't started.

"I'm sorry," Harry said through a sigh, "You're not crazy, and you don't owe him a thing. Did he threaten you at all?"

I thought back over it all, "No, but I don't think hanging upon him was a good idea. He'll say more online now."

"And he'll only look like a bigger dickhead," Harry grumbled, "Hanging up was the right thing to do, you don't have to listen to his shit anymore, Nina. I've just parked, where are you?"

I told Harry my location as best I could, not having to wait very long for him to appear in my line of vision behind the piano player. He spotted me almost immediately as well, his face pulled into a frowned, worried one that I felt guilty for creating. Still, there was a lifting inside my chest at seeing him. His hair was slightly damp from a shower, and he was in comfortable clothes. I stayed seated until he was a few steps away, and my name fell from his lips, then I was up on my feet and pressed against his chest within moments.

Harry's arms wound around my back, and he rested his chin on the top of my head, "You are amazing and beautiful and talented and so loved, Nina. What he says doesn't count anymore. We're going to get you a new phone number, and if he starts spurting any more shit online, we'll take things further."

"I feel so stupid," I said quietly. "How did I let Gavin into my life in the first place?"

Harry cupped my face in his hands and bent down to be at my eye level, "We're not torturing ourselves with those kinds of thoughts, Nina. We're going back to celebrating that article because I won't have you shrinking yourself because of anyone else, myself included."

I looked at him for a few moments, seeing nothing but sincerity and belief there.

"I should have called you earlier." A smile teased his lips, "Yeah, but you called me, so that's a win."

"I'm sorry."

Harry placed a soft kiss against my lips, "Not necessary. You hungry? I'll buy you chicken nuggets on the way home."

+++

Royal Festival Hall was completely sold out.

My dad organised incredible floor seats for the six of us. Harry and I met Rodger, Max, Gemma and Ned at a restaurant nearby for dinner beforehand, so by the time, we arrived for the performance we were all well into enjoying each other's company.

As we followed an usher down the aisle to be shown our seats, Harry shuffled up behind me and took my hand in his, "Did I say yet how stunning you are?"

"Yes," I kept my eyes ahead but tilted my mouth his way so I could say it quietly, "You did."

"Phew," He said dramatically, squeezing my fingers. "Just checking."

By some incredible force of nature, Harry managed to pull me from the rut I was sure I was destined for before it happened. We spent the night before, at his house, I had a bath, and we watched 101 Dalmatians afterwards, Harry gently prodding me every so often to measure where I was at. I cried a few more times, Gavin's harsh words ringing in my ears even when I woke up the next morning.

Harry dragged me out of the house early, he went for a run while I walked through the Heath loosely following him. He ran literal laps around me and despite all his best attempts, he wasn't able to convince me to join him for anything more rigorous.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, and it was time to start getting ready for dinner with my flatmates and Gemma and Ned, I felt reassured and nearly entirely back to normal. The ugliness still existed somewhere, but Harry managed to drag me into the present and firmly plant me there. Nothing Gavin had said to me changed Harry or me.

I took a quick photo of the stage from our seats and sent it through to my family group chat. Harry leaned over from his seat next to me and briefly dropped his head on my shoulder. He watched my screen as I sent my brother a rude emoji and then sent my dad a good luck text. I was beside myself with excitement at the prospect of watching him lead this calibre of an orchestra.

"Open your girls chat," Harry rumbled right by my ear. Without thinking I did as I was told, fingers hovering over the screen, waiting to see what Harry would say to me to type. "Tell them to keep the first weekend of February free, I'd like them to come down for my birthday if they'd like to."

"Harry," I turned my head to look at him, "Really?"

"Yeah," He nodded earnestly, "I haven't really planned anything yet, but I'll do something. I'd like them there."

"Not just for my sake?"

"Not just for your sake," Harry reassured, "They're your people, and so they mean a lot to me as well."

Ladies, Harry's birthday is in a few weeks, and he'd love it if you could make it?

"Tell them there'll be free accommodation, food and alcohol," He nudged me, nodding at the iMessage I just sent. "I'll pay for them to fly down if that's easier. They can stay at mine."

"You don't have to do that, Harry, they'll come down on the train."

Harry dropped his palm onto my thigh, "I don't want to put them out. And it's not cheap getting down here, I know."

All expenses covered, so he says. The first weekend in Feb. He's offering tours of his linen cupboard as well. x

Harry laughed as he read over my shoulder, "Good one."

"Thanks," I replied brightly, locking the phone after checking it was on silent and dropping it into Harry's suit pocket between us. "And thank you for inviting them ... You and them getting on is a big deal to me."

"I know."

"I've had to unpack a lot of shame after Gavin, and I've always been wary of what they might think of me seeing someone else, whether they’d trust me again," I told him.

Harry squeezed my thigh, "I'm happy you have them. They're mad about you."

"Mad is right," I rolled my eyes, "You may come to regret inviting them. Once there's an open bar, not a lot can stop Bel and Georgie."

He wriggled his eyebrows at me, "Sounds brilliant."

Just as I was about to reply the house lights dropped and a hush came over the concert hall. Before the announcements started I curled my hand around to the other side of Harry's face and directed it towards me, he had just enough time to blink down at me in the dark before I pulled him closer for a kiss.

"Thank you," I said, pressing my lips against his again, "You're magic."

He gave me a dopey smile and then took my hand in his, resting it on his thigh gently. I stole it back from him briefly a few moments later to join the applause for my dad walking out onto the stage. The suite was Haydn’s ‘An Imaginary Orchestra Journey’ by Sir Simon Rattle, and I knew it was one of his favourites. That was the benefit of being the level my father was, he could walk into the London Symphony Orchestra and tell them what to play.

The orchestra was led through a warm-up, bubbling my chest and had me wriggling in my seat in excitement. Then, my dad turned to face the audience and stepped up to the microphone.

“Good evening,” He said, “My name is Richard Lawrence, and I’m so delighted to be here on holiday with you from my home at the Chamber Orchestra of Europe,” He smiled as the room swelled into applause again, “Thank you. We have a fun one for you tonight, I know! An orchestra having fun what a scandal!” The players chuckled behind him, “We’re bringing you a selection from Franz Joseph Haydn’s best movements, compiled by my good friend Sir Simon Rattle. This is ‘An Imaginary Orchestra Journey’.”

He turned back to his orchestra and raised his arms, waiting for the applause to come to a close before he dramatically dropped his hands and picked them up again, bringing the opening notes of the suite with him.

It wasn’t a suite that I didn’t have committed to memory, so sitting and listening on almost new ears was transformative. The players were fantastic, which I already had insight into having sat in on a few rehearsals throughout the work. Soloists propped the whole body up, and I shivered my way through parts. My dad was right, though, it was a fun suite.

“This is so cool,” Harry whispered into my ear halfway through. I turned to face him, and in the dim light, he watched the tears streaming down my face, Harry’s lips curved up and he scrunched his nose at me. He took my hand in his and turned back to keep watching.

By the end of the performance, I was on my feet applauding dad with hands in the air, and my makeup all cried off. I got a wink and a wave from my dad who searched us out in the audience at final bows. Arrangements were already made about where we needed to go afterwards to meet him, given that there were so many musicians in the greenrooms going backstage was tricky, I was given instructions as to how to get into the conductor's studio.

After giving my name at a fire exit, an assistant led us through greenrooms to a back suite that sat under the stage.

"This is incredible," Harry said, stepping in behind me and taking in the room, "This is definitely one of the best green rooms I've ever been in."

"It's pretty swish," My dad said happily from the other side of the room, his suit jacket draped over the small sofa, "I suppose if I pretended it might feel quite rock and roll."

"You were amazing, dad," I told him, rushing over for a hug, "Your players were incredible, and you kept them together, magnificently."

"Thank you, my sweet," He smiled, graciously accepting repeated congratulations from everyone else. I introduced him to Gemma and Ned, who both thanked him profusely for their tickets. "Now, what are you all up to now?" Dad asked us all, "I'm getting taken out by a few of the board, and I'm sure I could bring a posse such as yourselves?"

"We need to head off, unfortunately," Gemma spoke up first, "Ned is on night shift tomorrow."

Similarly, Rodger and Max both had either early work commitments or a big day ahead of them so didn't want a late night.

"We'll come," Harry offered readily, looking down at me, "Right?"

"If it's really not an issue?" I asked.

"It's absolutely not, my dear," My dad said, "And I dare say taking you both along will impress them enough to have me easily in work for the next decade. If you can just give me fifteen minutes to change and go see my players, I'll meet you in the Foyer."

The group said their farewells and Harry, and I joined them, we stood in the foyer for a while chatting. Gemma gave me a hug with the promise of catching up during the week without the boys. Then, it was just Harry, and I left waiting in a near-empty foyer.

"I stand by my comments months ago about loving seeing you cry over music," Harry told me once we were alone, resting his elbows on the cocktail table we were sitting at, "It's magic. I adore it."

I grinned, "My crying my way through our first date does make for a good story."

"I'm disappointed not to have made you cry myself with my Christmas gig," Harry smirked at me, "I have a right mind to be offended."

"Get an orchestra behind you and I just might," I returned quickly.

+++

Four days later, Harry was standing at the front desk chatting to a receptionist when I arrived at the recording studio. She spotted me immediately, and Harry followed where her attention left him for, an instant smile appearing on his face.

“Hello!” He called out to me, pushing off where he had been comfortably leaning against the desk to take a couple of steps towards me.

“Hi,” I gushed, trumpet case under my arm and a heavy backpack from rehearsals slipping off my arm.

“Let me take that,” Harry took the bag from my shoulder and pulled me in for a hug with his other arm, “Hi,” He kissed my head, and the leant back to look at me, “You get here okay?” I’d been here before to see Rodger, but instead of pointing that out, I smiled and nodded.

“I’ve got your pass,” Harry said, whipping a lanyard out of his pocket and adorning my neck with it before he took my hand and started walking, “Thanks, Jen!” He called back over his shoulder as we left the entrance.

Harry was bringing me in to work on the song that I contributed to all those months ago. I really didn’t know what more I was expected to do, from what Harry told me about his last week or so writing it was the lyrics of the song that he was working on the most. Numerous times I’d told him I didn’t need credit, but he was adamant.

“In here,” Harry directed me to a door, and he dropped my hand to prop it open for me, “After you.”

I walked in and immediately froze, there had to be at least ten or twelve people in the room. Harry nudged me in gently, making a quip about not lurking in doorways. He walked into the left where there was a large sitting area, the studio directly in front.

“Babes,” Rodger was to the right in front of the sound desk, I recognised the tech working with him who also gave me a nod.

“Hey,” I said, siding up to Rodger but throwing a tentative look back over my shoulder where Harry was in the middle of the bulk of the people in the room. “I’m—

A warm hand slipping into mine from behind, “Neens, I want you to meet some people.”

“We’ll start soon,” Rodger told me kindly, watching as I was pulled away.

Three people were working on laptops at a small free-standing table, another two on phones sat on one of the sofas, and then three men standing. They were wearing remnants of business suits they had obviously unassembled as the day went on; cuffs were folded up, ties and jackets had been shed, and collars were undone. I wondered if Harry could feel my hands shaking from the one he was holding onto, but if he did, he didn’t let on. I tried to wear a pleasant smile, but there was a sinking feeling that I was about to find myself well out of my depth.

Harry introduced me to his manager, the head of his record label and his business manager.

I felt sick.

Harry happily went on about how excited he was for today, and how this song was probably his favourite of the bunch they were working on for release. He interrupted to add more detail to my deliberately modest answer about what my schedule was like working in a professional orchestra. I hadn’t wanted to seem like I was showing off about myself in front of these arguably more impressive people, but Harry seemed giddy on the whole exchange happening. They were all lovely to me, I expected nothing less from people had chosen to work so closely with, but still, I was intimidated beyond belief and blind-sighted by them all being there at all.

“Excuse me,” I eventually managed to be courageous enough to say, “I’m just going to go to the bathroom.”

“I’ll—

—I know where it is, Harry,” I squeezed his arm, “I’ll be right back.”

I hurried out the room, and a little way down the hall before stopping at a small bench pushed up against the wall. I sat down slowly and rested my head back against the wall. I completely missed the sound of someone following me until I felt the cushion of the seat expand as Rodger sat down too.

“Really had your skates on getting out there,” He said evenly, “Everything okay?”

I pointed back to the studio a few metres away, “The head of his fucking label is in that room.”

Rodger’s expression softened, “He’s not here to intimidate you, Nina. They’re checking in on how recording is going and Harry wanted them to meet you.”

“Who the hell even has a business manager, Rodger?” I added quickly.

Rodger smiled, “Someone who’s in Harry’s position who cares about his career and the careers of the people who work for him.”

“I really don’t know why I’m here,” I hissed at Rodger. “All I did was change the key and alter a melody, and now I’m supposed to what? Pull a pop song out of my arse in front of a room full of people?”

“You fixed a dying song, Nina,” Rodger didn’t blink at my freak out, “The song is yours as far as Harry is concerned, it would be locked on a hard drive somewhere without you. Just because it feels like breathing to you doesn’t mean it’s not miraculous to the rest of us. I could never have done what you did, and neither could Harry. The song wasn’t going to exist and so if it’s going to it’s only right that you oversee it.”

“I don’t even remember what I did.”

“Liar,” Rodger shot back, “You could play it perfectly with your eyes closed, even if you haven’t thought of it since that day. Don’t bullshit me about forgetting a song, you couldn’t if you tried.”

“I’m just a trumpet player from Blackpool,” I said softly, “What am I doing here?”

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer,” He replied, “I understand Harry’s team being here is daunting, but we’re gonna go back in there, you’re going to sit in front of the piano and look super cute in the headphones, and it’ll just be you and me at the desk, got it?”

I shut my eyes and nodded, “Don’t let me look bad.”

“That would be impossible,” Rodger stood up, and when I opened my eyes, he was holding a hand down for me. "C'mon."

I let him pull me to my feet and accepted the hug he held his arms out for, "I need to do a nervous wee."

"Off you go then," Rodger chuckled, "I'll get started setting things up in there."

After using the bathroom, I spent a few moments inspecting myself in the bathroom mirror, and I decided I didn’t look half as frazzled as I felt. An excited but sickening churning in my stomach was somehow disconnected from the thoughts in my head telling me making music with Harry was going to be a good thing, probably even a great thing.

So, taking stumbled steps and breathing in almost too deeply, I fisted my hands and placed one leg in front of the other. By the time I was down the corridor and at the door to the studio, I was breathing evenly, and my stomach felt more settled than it had all day.

I walked straight in, and as I passed Rodger at the sound desk I pointed in at the piano, he nodded without removing his headphones and waved me to go in.

The studio air was fresh, but the unmistakable smell of instruments filled my lungs. I stretched my fingers out as I approached the grand piano over to one side and sat down at the stool, pushing it in further so I could reach the peddles comfortably.

"Hear me?" Rodger asked through the set when I put the headphones over my head.

I held up a thumb his way.

"Brill," He said, "Take a few to get settled, and I'll corral the troops out here."

I stared at the keys for a brief moment before placing my fingers across them, fanning through a quiet set of scales and experimenting with how sensitive the keys were when I built the volume. The sound was beautiful, almost as beautiful as the baby grand at my parent's house. I closed my eyes and played around with a few melodies, humming where I thought a voice might sit above them.

"Rodger," I said, waiting for him to look up through the glass window, "Can I open the cover?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I'll come help, it's heavy."

He shuffled into the room a moment later, flipping a few clasps around the piano and then counting down so we could lift it in time.

"Thanks," I sat back down and played a series of major seventh chords to test out how the sound changed.

"What are you thinking? We going to get into piano bashing?" Rodger asked, crossing his arms over his chest and watching my hands.

"Not quite that extreme," I frowned and leaned forward to reach for the treble strings in front of me, "I think harmonic upper partials would give a raspy, ghosty sound that fits though, right? Like having violins without having to deal with violin players."

Rodger laughed at my dig, and I grinned at him, playing the melody from Harry's song while gently touching the overtone positions on the strings of the corresponding keys. A completely different sound filled the studio.

"That sounds sick," Harry appeared next to Rodger and peered into the piano cavity to see what my hands were doing. "Are you allowed to do that?"

"You are if you're Nina," Rodger hit Harry affectionately on the shoulder and then walked away citing a need to finish setting something up.

I stopped my experimenting and sat back on the piano seat, watching Harry watch me.

"Songs about pianos," He signalled softly.

I smiled at him and quickly found the opening chords of the first song that came into my head, "The piano is not firewood yet, they try to remember but still they forget that the heart beats in threes, just like a waltz and nothing can stop you from dancing."

When I paused and raised an eyebrow at him in a challenge, Harry arched his back to belt out his offering, "It's nine o'clock on a Saturday!"

"Stop! Wait," I laughed, ghosting the piano keys to find where I needed to start, "Let me play you an intro."

I played the intro to the iconic Billy Joel song once through and nodded Harry in when he needed to sing, he was smiling the whole time and miming having a harmonica up to his mouth. I stopped after the chorus and pulled my hands away from the key, wondering if this was how his time with Rodger usually went. I didn't like the thought I could be inserting myself as a silly distraction.

"Nerves flushed out?" Harry asked, showing more astuteness to where my head was at than I had given him credit for.

"Tell me where you're at with the song," I prompted him quietly, shuffling to one side of my seat and opening a space for him to join me.

"Well," Harry started, his thigh nestling warmly against mine, "I've completely rewritten the second verse and bridge—

—Tell me about it in terms of the music," I nudged my elbow into his side, "I don't do lyrics."

"Oh," He parroted, and then laughed at himself, "Right. Of course, well ... I'd like it to sound ... Hopeful?"

"So, we'll do a build," I suggested. "You're a guitar man, so I guess you'd—

—I think I want to just have the piano?"

"Just piano?" I questioned.

"Maybe not just piano," Harry swallowed slowly, "But just not be guitar-heavy. I'd like to include some ... Other instruments, I think."

"Other instruments?" I asked, amused by how hesitant he was with the term, his cheeks reddened when he realised I was mildly teasing him for his apprehension. "You don't have to do that because I'm here."

"Play it where we left it last time," Harry nodded at my hands, he cleared his throat and hummed for half a second before singing along with what I had started playing.

He sang in his chest voice, low and sweet with chilling resonance. It was truly beautiful, and I smiled at the way each line of the lyrics played perfectly into the next. Harry closed his eyes as I played into a pre-chorus of sorts, barely reaching to effortlessly switch up to his head voice for the end of each line. I watched him, so I knew when to extend the phrase or move to match his pitch, but Harry kept his eyes closed while he sang.

It wasn't until he fumbled over two lines in a row that he stopped and gave me a bashful smile, "I don't think what I rewrote fits. Let me go get my notebook and—Hey!"

I looked up toward the window to see who had earned Harry's light whine. There was a line of people at the window watching Harry and me at the piano. His manager gave Harry two thumbs up, but Harry flipped them all the bird as he joined them in the room to collect what he needed to continue.

"That sounded great," Rodger walked over to me and then launched into a whole bunch of the technical aspects of what we were about to start doing. A lot of it made sense, and I had been exposed to before, but I had questions about specific parts that he was patient in answering.

When Harry came back, he settled himself off to my left, where the recording mic was set up. He left the room again and returned with a pitcher of water and two glasses, placing it on the floor between us without saying a word. I watched him take a sip and then stepped up to the mic and slip on his own set of headphones.

"Okay, Nina," Rodger said to us through the glass again, "I've got the automatic transcription program on you, so we'll be getting the melodies down in real-time. I know," He assured me before I could protest, "You'll be able to manually edit things after. On the dark side, we're more about the recording than having a perfect transcription, yeah?"

"I didn't say a thing," I mumbled, embarrassed.

"Harry, mate," Rodger addressed him, "Let's go right through once, doesn't matter if we miss bits. Just give Nina the chance to play it out, and by the second take she'll be set."

"That's annoyingly impressive," Harry told him, adjusting where his headphones sat, "Is there a support group you can recommend?"

"I can hear you both."

"I'll get Max to put you on the mailing list," Rodger promised Harry, setting up a click track to guide our timing but then turning it right down so I could only just hear it.

Harry continued to banter with Rodger as the sound was tested, "Good, I'm going to need maximum support," he spoke into the microphone. "Test, this is a test. I am testing the microphone."

Rodger gave Harry a thumbs up and told me to play something on the piano so he could alter the levels on the boom mics positioned over the open cover. To spite them both, I started tapping out the basic tune of Ode to Joy, not looking at either of them as I did so.

I heard Rodger laugh through the headset, and Harry clapped beside me, "Genius at work."

While they both still were laughing, I switched to Mozart's Sonata No. 17, which shut them up very quickly. I looked over at Harry and gave him a smug smile as I played without hesitation or missing a note. He tried to hold my gaze, but his eyes zeroed in on my hands and were transfixed by their movements. I stopped playing abruptly, and he playfully narrowed his eyes at me.

"Yes?" I asked him sweetly.

"Put him in his place, he's a shit, Nina," Another voice spoke up.

Harry and I looked up to find his manager at the glass with a headset on, "You've never spoken wearing that before!"

"I've never felt the need to," was the reply to Harry's exclamation. "You usually behave yourself."

+++

Two and a half hours later, we had a song.

"It's beautiful," I wound my arms around Harry's waist where he had me tucked under his arm. My fingers played with the cords of our headphones where we stood together, listening to a rough cut of just Harry's isolated vocals.

"Give me a second," Rodger said, distracted by trying to layer the piano and backing vocals over Harry's track."Everyone ready?"

Most of Harry's team left throughout the afternoon, the people on phones and laptops had gone as well as the label head. Harry's manager, business manager and a videographer remained. His manager stood and came over to the desk, but the other two stayed seated on the sofa.

"Okay," Rodger decided he was sorted, clicking on his screen back to the start and pressing play.

Harry tugged the ends of my hair, ghosting his fingers up and down my neck as the opening notes filled our ears. We stood together behind Rodger sitting at the sound desk, the song playing out where we had grown used to hearing sections cut up and altered what felt like a hundred times over.

In the end, Harry hadn't entirely stayed true to his 'piano only' idea, I had managed to convince him to add in some strings which were computerised for now but would be live recorded down the track. We also ended up with bass drums to help with the build to the bridge. Throughout the afternoon, the piano part had been stripped back because I refused to let Harry's gorgeous lyrics drown in a sea of complicated notes and melodies.

The end result was a haunting but euphoric song that took Harry out of his comfort zone and showcased the raspiness and dimension of his voice. It was hopeful like he hoped earlier it would be, but it also gave voice to a vulnerable side of him. It wasn't a song with a strong personal narrative, he had written on the universal truth of life and love and the simplicity behind humanity that we rarely pay mind to.

The song ended, and Rodger slowly turned back to us, his face immediately lit up, "Look at you both!"

"What?" I sniffed, bringing the sleeve of my jumper up to my face, I craned my neck to look at Harry who had his hand covering his mouth.

When he looked down at me, Harry's eyes were wet, and he took a deep breath to steady himself. We both took in each other's faces and then started laughing. I hadn't seen Harry have such an emotional reaction to music, but I knew exactly what he was thinking about mine.

"I see tears, I've done it!" Harry did a little fist punch with his free arm.

"Excuse me," I cried out, "I cry all the damn time if anything I'm the one who's 'done it'. Look at you, you're a mess!"

"It's catching," Harry replied simply, leaning down to press one kiss on my cheek, "Thank you," he said to just me.

"The song is gorgeous," I told him.

"It sure is," He confirmed with an edge of wonder in his voice.

FEEDBACK MAKES ME NOT REGRET WRITING 8K WORDS FOR YOU

#fic: someday someday #hina #harry styles fic #1dff #harry styles fanfiction #one direction fan fiction

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ofhoneyandrosepetals · 5 years

Text

Spooky Little Stories - Halloween special series (Tale I - Bjorn)

Pairing: Modern!Bjorn x OFC

Description: in this Halloween special series you’ll follow five tales, which one of them with a different Ragnarsson and a different pairing! A group of five friends travel to Kattegat in the last week of October to see if what people tell of that little town is true...

Every week a new chapter!

Warnings: swearings and mentions of sex.

Word count: 2,911

A/N: due to Tumblr’s links problems, I’m not going to put here the link for my masterlist and my ask, but you all can keep up with the link for my masterlist in my bio!

It was the spooky season, as my friends had told me, like if I didn’t know that. Of course I knew it, with all of them screaming that all the time as the 1st October arrived. I wasn’t one for Halloween, or even autumn - I rather be at somewhere sunny right now, sat under a coconut tree watching as the waves come and go in their incessant agony.

I liked the warm that surrounded me, the feeling of the sun burning my skin, leaving it golden, and autumn was the complete opposite of that - it was coldish and everything was grey and that weird tone of orange.

Plus, I hated pumpkins.

When I was a child my dad used to put that scarecrow in front of our house during Halloween that had a pumpkin head and that shit just terrified the shit out of me.

“We need to go to Kattegat,” Kimmy said, waking me up from my own thoughts.

“Katte-what?” I asked.

“Kattegat. Never heard of it?” My other friend, Halston, asked.

“No, what is it?” I asked, completely unaware of whatever it was.

“It’s a little town located by the shore of Norway. It has the reputation of being cursed, full of creatures…” Kimmy was coming closer to me in an attempt to give me a jumpscare, but I cut her off.

“What? Do all of you really want to cross the world, to extreme north of Europe in the middle of October just to visit a boring little town? Where is all the money coming from?” I said a little cranky. I was always a little cranky.

“My parents, of course. Since I got dumped, like, one day before my marriage, they’ve been too much sentimental all over me. They’ll do anything I ask them,” and that was Jule, the girl that, during high school, I couldn’t believe even in a thousand years that I would come up being friends with, since she’s super rich, super hot and super blonde.

At first I thought she was super idiot, but she’s actually super awesome. I was the one who introduced her to our little group.

Long story short, since Jule came from the high society and was incredibly beautiful, she got engaged right after graduating from high school. Two years later, almost getting married, her ex-husband - who also happened to be the richest guy in our high school - left her for a chick in Cancún.

Life is a box full of surprises, huh?

And my surprise was right in front of me: my friends and their trip to Kattegat.

“Where’s Sam?” I asked.

And, when I did it, all of them went poker face, not knowing what to do nor to say.

“She’ll be right back,” Kimmy said first.

“With things,” completed Halston.

“Things?” They nodded. “What kind of ‘things’?” I asked, suspicious.

“Tickets,” Jule said right on the spot.

“Imma out here,” I said, pretending to get my car and go back to the safety of my house. They didn’t even need to tell me what kind of tickets they were - I already knew in my guts.

“Oh, no no no no, please stay!” Halston got up with me and held my hands. “You’ll like this trip! It will be in the last week of October - we’ll leave on friday and get back in the next weekend - and you’ll love it! It’s right in the coast of Norway and the landscape is beautiful…” Halston kept mumbling about Kattegat and all its high points, but damn, that bitch knew how to get me going.

She won me in “the landscape is beautiful” because I was a nature goner. I bit my lips, measuring my options and its consequences.

It would be autumn anywhere I’d go in the north hemisphere; it would still be Halloween month; and I couldn’t afford a trip where it was spring.

Gosh, what would I give for a spring break right now…

And, apparently, Jule’s parents would be paying for everything, which I wasn’t so much of a fan, but it was definitely a good point for my pocket change.

“Okay,” I agreed shortly and left the room, trying to make my exit as much as dramatic as I expected it to be.

We rented a car to go to Kattegat, since it was a so far away town. Or, as we arrived, I could call it a village, because that was how it looked like - or at least that part.

“When I was told it was a little town, I wasn’t expecting it to be that little,” I pointed, being a little sarcastic.

“You suck, Ella,” Sam said. “It was where the travel guide told us to come. He would show us the historical part of town so we could go to our hotel.”

“Actually…” Jule started.

“Oh no,” I responded. “That only means one thing.”

“Maybe…”

“You guys did not reserve rooms in a weird hotel or something, did you?” Now I was a bit terrified - it wasn’t enough the fact that we were all very far from home, but also staying in a weird place in this weird town which, I must complete, have a bad reputation, completely by our own.

“They’re cabins.”

“Oh my god…” I put my elbows on my knees and covered my face with my hands. “Do I even need to point out the danger of this shit? You guys have never even camped before. Did any of you watch Friday the 13th?”

“Ella, you’re overreacting,” Kimmy tried to say.

“I’m not overreacting anything, I’m just saying that I don’t wanna die in a freaking cabin in this freaking place. It’s not only cold here, it looks cold. This is Norway, oh my god. If this end of the world filled with trees is the historical part of town then I don’t wanna see the real urban signs.”

“Someone please calm that bitch down,” Kimmy said, stopping the car.

“There’s nothing to worry about, Ella,” Halston tried to calm me down.

“This is way far from home,” I muttered.

“Hey,” a strong and masculine voice was heard and I screamed.

“God, what is that now? Are you okay, Ella?” Sam asked.

“She’s just freaking out, I think she never left the country before,” Jule said very peacefully.

“Who are you?” I asked to the guy who was standing in front of the driver’s window.

“I’m Bjorn and I’ll be your guide here in Kattegat,” he said with a smile.

When I left the car I could see him better - Bjorn was a huge man, tall and strong, all muscles, very blonde and tanned. How can a person living in a place like this be tanned?, I wondered.

“Do you girls need help with your bagages?” He offered.

Sam was the first to go all flirty, thanking him and touching his forearm, obviously to feel his muscles. The way they looked at each other and the way they connected in a burst made me wanna look the other way, like if I was seeing something I wasn’t supposed to.

Bjorn guided us through what I called “the village”, but he called “the historical side of town”. It was just wooden houses - as far as I could design them - in the middle of a bunch of trees.

“My ancestors once ran this place,” he said, walking in front of us, carrying Sam’s bags as she followed him like a happy puppy. “It was during the Vikings Age.”

“So you’re saying you come from a viking lineage? Like, you have viking blood?” Kimmy asked.

“Yeah, I do,” he said all proud.

“Where can I get a viking?” Kimmy whispered to us.

“Vikings? Cabins? Wood? Axe murders, you mean,” I said.

“They do used axes, yes,” Bjorn said. He kept explaining everything that he could tell from a place around one thousand year ago, which I wasn’t much interested in. I tried to look in the distant, trying to see the beach, but all I could do was hear the waves breaking on the rocks.

“And, in the end of our little walk, there are your cabins, girls,” Bjorn waved to ten wooden cabins, all looking new and built in a viking style. “This year you happen to be only ones here - all our other tourists decided to check the new place in downtown -, so you can choose which one you all want. I can arrange five beds in one cabin if you want me to, there’s no problem.”

“And where are you staying?” Sam said in a tone that made me want to suddenly be her mother.

“Up the hill,” Bjorn pointed to a little house. “I stay there during times like this. The view is amazing and it’s relaxing…” he said getting closer to Sam. That wasn’t going to end well.

“But the most important question, actually, is: are you the only one here? I mean, only the five of us and you?” I asked, and everyone looked at me surprised. “I’m not trying to get laid, I’m just… I mean…” I threw my hands in the air. “How can you take care of all of that alone?”

“Oh, it’s not hard. I have brothers who help me, but they’re here and there running errands, taking care of bigger things in downtown.”

“Brothers,” Kimmy whispered to us, raising her eyebrows and biting her lips.

I rolled my eyes and announced we were taking cabin number 5, because I liked the number and the location of it. It could give me a good look from the windows - for both beauty nature and safety.

Bjorn suggested a campfire during the night, which my friends not only agreed, but also loved the idea.

Campfires weren’t a new and exciting thing to me, especially when they had marshmallows and spooky stories - I was a scout girl when I was a kid, and wasn’t very fond of it.

But there I was, sat by a campfire in the cold night, jet lagged and wanting to die with Sam’s and Bjorn’s flirts to each other. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the guy, he was okay, but I didn’t have good feelings about him. Something was wrong, something was weird.

“So you’re a very… handy guy, aren’t ya?” I asked him directly, cutting his laugh to Sam.

“That depends,” he raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I don’t know. You live up there,” I pointed with my head. “With all of this, that obviously need repairing. I guess you’re good with tools.”

“I happen to be,” he stated, defiantly.

“Like to hunt?”

“Yeah.”

“I used to hunt with my dad,” I said, and it was truth.

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” but this was a lie. I hated to hunt, and the only reason why I did that it was because I was a scout girl and my dad wanted a son. “I have a pretty good aim,” true.

“What is it that I smell?” Bjorn pretended to sniff in the air, taking giggles out of Sam and the other girls. “Oh… challenge?” I shrugged, getting my attention back to my marshmallow. “So, what’s gonna be? Knife or bow?”

“You choose on which one you want to loose with,” I said, sounding a little confident. Bjorn got up, sighing.

“Girl, I’m good with everything, even axes.”

“Axe murder,” I whispered to Jule, who giggled because she was drunk. “I’ll take the knife, then,” Bjorn tilted his head in agreement.

“Knife it’ll be.”

He handed me ten throwing knives and leaded all of us to a place in the woods, not very far from our cabins, and placed two targets in the trees - one for me and one for him.

“Two at a time?” He asked, grinning. I could see his canines shining in the moonlight and that sight gave me shrives. My spider-sense was definitely tingling.

“You’re a viking, I’m only a scout girl. This game needs to be fair.”

“It’ll never be fair if you’re dealing with far more that you can handle.”

“Ouch!” Sam said out loud. “That hurt even in me.”

“Oh, shut up,” I said as I threw two knives at the same time - one got right on spot, but the second went a little far from the red circle.

“Not bad, Ella. Not bad at all,” Bjorn said and threw his knives - and of course the two of them hit the red circle. “Better with three?”

“You shitting me,” and I threw three, one after another, very quickly. I know it wasn’t probably what he meant, but it was the best I could do. At least I got all of them right. And so was Bjorn.

Because of my dad I spent too many afternoons training in our backyard, because I wanted him to be proud of me, to be proud of the daughter he had, because I wasn’t a boy. So, without even saying anything, I threw four knives - two in each hand at the same time - and the last one alone. I got three. Bjorn got them all.

“Damn you,” I said and, right after that, I heard a howling. “Okay, holy shit, no one told me there were wolves here.”

“Oh, they’re harmless,” Bjorn waved his hands as if it was nothing and started taking the knives out of the trees, playing with them in the air and in his hands.

“Harmless?” Halston asked. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m going to the cabin, guys,” I announced. “I intend to survive long enough to at least see what Bjorn calls downtown.”

Halston came with me and we shared the same bed. From the girls, she was my oldest friend - we know each other since we were kids and we lived in the same street. She held my hand when we were laid down.

“I know it’s your first time so far away from home, and look at this. This is so different,” she smiled. “I understand why you’re scared. I am too,” her grip in my hand got stronger. “I know you never wanted to be a scout girl, that you never wanted to do any of that, but you did it because of your father. I know how much this places is fucking up with you. But I’m here, and all of your friends are here, but specially me.”

I was a single child, but Halston was my non-blood sister. I smiled at her and I calmed down a little bit, at least enough to get some sleep.

I had no idea what time it was, but sure it was around 3 PM.

I heard a scream.

To be more accurate, I heard Sam’s scream, and I knew it was her because I recognized the loud tone. Halston, Kimmy and Jule got up, wide eyes open.

“Oh my god what was that?!”

“Where’s Sam?”

“Oh my god, is Sam hurt?”

“Where is she?” I asked Kimmy and Jule, since they were the ones who left outside when me and Halston went inside the cabin.

“We were all drinking, and Bjorn offered to show her his cabin and its view at night, and that’s when we split.”

“How long was that?”

“I don’t know, a couple of hours?”

Then we heard the burst of laughs that obviously belonged to Sam.

“What is happening?” Halston asked, confused and scared.

Sam opened the door, Bjorn right behind her.

“Thank you for walking me,” she said all over him.

Bjorn didn’t say a word, just smiled to all of us and closed the door. His smile made me feel weird in my guts. Even though it was dark in the cabin, I didn’t need light to smell blood, after years of hunting with my dad.

“Sam?” I whispered carefully.

“Yes…?” She responded, sounding drunk - from both alcohol and sex.

“Are you okay, Sam? We heard you scream.”

“Oh, that was nothing…!” I could feel her waving in the air. “Bjorn tried to scare me.”

“Tried? I think he accomplished,” Halston said.

“On all of us, actually,” Kimmy completed.

Sam was so drunk that she immediately fell asleep, and the others slept too, except for me, who couldn’t sleep because of the smell and the curiosity.

So, on the tip of my toes, I got out of bed, making a hell of effort to not wake Halston up, and went to Sam’s bed. Her back was turned to me and I carefully lifted her shirt, just to see that I was right.

A big and deep scratch was on her back, almost like if a savage animal had cut her with its claws, and the vision of it made me freak out and I fell to my knees, trying to clean the blood that was on my hands.

“Oh god what is that what is that what is that what is happening why is she asleep isn’t it hurting oh my god oh my god oh my god…”

And, as an omen, I heard a howl that gave me goosebumps all over my body, and I knew that coming to Kattegat was a bad idea, because it was obvious that all the tales, all the bad reputation were a true bad shit.

There was something in the town and Bjorn was involved, crystal clear.

And, maybe, even his brothers.

Taglist: @mblaqgi @akamaiden @dangerousvikings @oddsnendsfanfics @deepdarkred @irishhiggins @tinypuppysoul @kingbouji3 @i-war-s-boner @capitanostella @loothbrok @noaor @thehuntress26 @sassymcgonagal1651 @hoodirwin5 @attorneyl @collecting-stories @certainobservationwasteland @dreams-in-different-colours @3x5gurl @readsalot73 @thisisparadisemylove @action-adventure-and-cheesecake @titty-teetee @cutiedaij @austenkingmylady @ivarthesweetheart @golden-pickaxe @lokis-sunflower-anna @bill-istvan @cynthianokamaria @slut4hazeleyes @chinduda @hallowed-heathen @cherryblossombaby69 @paintballkid711 @bisexual-dane

#bjorn #bjorn fic #bjorn ironside #bjorn ironside fic #modern bjorn #modern bjorn fic #bjoth lothbrok #bjorn ragnarsson #bjorn lothbrok fic #bjorn ragnarsson fic #vikings fanfic #vikings fic #vikings fanfiction #vikings imagine #modern vikings #modern vikings fic #elle writes

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mystrade-reading-club · 5 years

Text

Time to Vote!

So, the lovely people over on Discord were so excited to start reading, I decided to move the voting day(s) a week earlier. Below is the list of recommendations for this reading round.

Burning Rubber by @jessieblackwood, M, 17k

Greg is asked by a friend to help with a driver training course for MI5 personnel. Mycroft has been sent for driving skills assessment. Is this the beginning of a beautiful friendship?

Through The Barricades by @siriusblue, E, 11k

Award-winning journalist Mycroft Holmes is sent to cover the trial of the century. Militia leader Grigori Lestrade is charged with war crimes and faces the death penalty. Miraculously acquitted he invites Mycroft to come with him to witness for himself the truth and discover what really was behind the accusations. Mycroft is no stranger to war zones. He expects deprivation and hardship, but there's one thing he doesn't expect...

Time Slips by mezzo_cammin, E, 32K

This fic is my response to the question,"What would Mycroft Holmes do to rescue Greg Lestrade from the very determined arms of Death?" The answer's obvious, isn't it? He'd do anything. Anything at all. Hence, this is a time-loop fic in which Mycroft is jet-lagged, Eurus is creepy, Greg is quite wonderful until he dies (repeatedly, but also temporarily), Anthea is confused but supportive, the Prime Minister is kind, Sherlock and John are helpful (sort of), it rains an awful lot, Mycroft’s coat is very clean, and tomorrow is a new day. Until it isn’t.

Opposition Party by mydwynter, E, 21k

"Well. I'm flattered and insulted. Just another afternoon with Mycroft Holmes." "I do so like to be consistent." There were any number of reasons why this was a terrible idea—not the least of which was that Mycroft seemed to think that making Greg angry amounted to a sort of charm.

Ministry Coffee by @green-violin-bow, E, 25k

“Are you hurt?” asks Mycroft. “I – I don’t think so,” mumbles the man indistinctly, in a light Estuary accent. His eyes are glazed, his hands unsteady. He shakes his head. Mycroft can recognise the signs of shock when he sees them. “Here,” says Mycroft, holding out his hand. “Let me just –” he untangles the heavy bag from around the man’s shoulders and puts it on the pavement. The man seems too dazed to take the proffered hand, so he slips it under his elbow instead and gently encourages him to stand. Mycroft pulls the man’s bike up onto the pavement and leans it approximately – as much as the bent front wheel will allow – against the wall. He’s pretty sure no-one’s going to bother stealing it in that state. He picks up the bag, hooking it over his shoulder, and offers his other arm to the man. “Come on.”

The Sad Divorced Bastards Club by @out-there-tmblr, E, 20k

"Don't know if you're doing anything right now, but there's a few of us at Walker's on Craig's Court. Thought you might want to come down for a drink." "Why would you think that?" Mycroft says disbelievingly. "Because you qualify as a member of the sad divorced bastards club," Greg says as Anderson returns from the bar, and sets two glasses on the table. Greg knows how it feels to find yourself living alone again. How empty a flat can feel, and how hard it can be to remember who you are without that other person. He knows how loneliness can creep in. "Might as well attend a meeting."

Given Unsought Is Better by @lobstergirl1917, E, 36K

Urban Fantasy AU in which DI Greg Lestrade actually is a silver fox, at least at times, and in which Mycroft Holmes reveals power beyond his minor post in the British Government and comes to accept that caring is not necessarily a disadvantage, and sometimes, hearts don't end up broken.

No Quarter by @mottlemoth, E, 21k

Every sailor fears a pirate; all the pirates fear Lestrade. A hunter of renown with many years' experience of the sea, he's become just as ruthless as the men he hounds. A year ago, he claimed the greatest prize of all: Mycroft Holmes, terror of the Caribbean, whose brilliant mind and elusive nature made him a force to be reckoned with. Unlucky for Lestrade, not all captains go down with their ship. Mycroft Holmes is alive and he's looking for reparation. And there's only one apology he'll accept.

Recette du Jour by Odamaki, T, 15k

Mycroft cooks, because it's all he has and all he's interested in outside of his work. And then, one day, the little grocery shop in the yard changes owners unexpectedly, and there's a lot more on the menu than he'd bargained for.

The Perils of Prediction by @mottlemoth, E, 10k

At a crime scene late one night, Mycroft Holmes spends a few moments alone with DI Lestrade and makes a discovery he never anticipated. But does Lestrade deserve such an unthinkable fate? And if love is so inevitable, how can it hurt so much?

(if you know the Tumblr handles for mezzo_cammin, mydwynter and odamaki, please let me know so I can tag them).

The actual voting is done on Discord, which you can join using this invite: https://discord.gg/nxqmUv4

Voting ends on 27 September (but if we vote quicker, i.e. by Mon-Tue next week, we might start discussions as soon as Sunday 29 September. TBDiscussed).

#mystrade reading club #mystrade #voting for fanfic #reading round 1 is about to take off #once we decide what we want to read #discord #discord invite

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sirjustice2011-blog · 4 years

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Poor economies

Alternator Generator and E-vehicles as machines eliminates oil completely as well as artificial made oil for oiling machine parts and thats the major economic activity of Nigeria as a country thus a finished economy as well as her cooking palm oil finished by artificially made 1 where a little amount poured on water in a bucket then many sprinkle water and boom its formed. By the above now, even the machines and vehicles they made the other African nations have learnt the same so are plunged into shivering as how they will feed their population, so looking to settle their population in other nations using people they sponsored to disturb in pretense of monitoring peoples food so they see if u can share your food once the above happens. Rather they could left Kebi and Not play part in Amon’s death to think now the innovation remain to them only, so can pride themselves with slogan such as proudly made In Nigeria. Not bad off as now gadgets u don’t buy but just looking 4 food like from Cameroon, the next nation next door, do not worry dude, eat less now to save 4 ya poor population or create a fund 4 the same or make artificial supplements to save ya nations export. Other feasible solutions to evade war or public disgust as people trusted on ya a long time as u r geared towards justice yet now u join the bad side and help Mr white-man to down play other black men, if u had rocket and internet as far as 2015, why hide it, u could have told Mr Hindu to back off, but better of u shy people away from Christianity because many deemed ya more Christian than others to follow ya

The white Canadian women eyeing very well the money Kebi claimed to leave, which if he does the same they came up with excuses again that his money in the bank. Folks hard to explain, how can i tell them, my intention wasn't money but equity to all, if i take that cash they claim the same and adds to their ego of finding me which i want not cause am another fellow altogether as above. They want people with money yet proclaim they are helping Africans who are poor as with my case taking it back and forth. Then they wanna say i wanna live big, so bring kids around, i cant live that way myself yet i challenge them, can we go to the bank i give ya that cash to a big group of people u put to investment, me i only take $ 1000 4 my toilet and fake electronic like phones and computer to be using to save me cyber money, they want not but want it all alone. They want to eat my corpse saying am Jesus, if u partake such like they did in blood donation previously u became innovative which aint the case as show with every world nation making gadgets yet they have not eaten my corpse or blood while the Kenyan counterparts doing the same yet they lag behind in their innovative quest than nations like Nigeria or Ghana who have not done such cheated acts by the Germans or Americans. Eating corpse wont help ya if u dont practice what is described in tumblr a/c sirjustice202.

Another they want to exhume my grave 4 the above trying to kill me or make me take my life, which if i say, the hole be dug deep and heap of concrete added they are left stranded as well as me being cremated. Thinking that they can do that to my head then take other parts, led me be immersed in hot metal b4 people as i will pay that then stranded again and if that fail they want me oversees to frustrate me in snow or use a coin that cut the leg to amputate my appendages to make much corpse out of it to be eating forever as the remainder always make much as well as the initial, can even be eaten 4, 1 century to delude not knowing folks that the gateway to be innovative in machines to make it a culture to get many to hell as seen by ya hand fingers, kinda, pulsing up and down. Or get me to jail take blood samples and do the same as well as shooting me as astray bullet or knocking me down on roads to loose part of my appendages 4 the same above.

For better big car, when hurling cold water as described above using bottle nozzles as with sanitizing bottle or syringe, u can mix the water inside with strawberry or animal blood. U may not know of this but improves the car image as durable or not durable just the same with place ices on the offerings as dough, grain,hay, chaff or on sewer water b4 the above done. If u think its a lie then if u know how to make machine parts try and compare the products with or without the same. Let it be diluted dude and tell me whats up homie!!!!

For more they even aid with local people if u inquire of their machines online, bad character dude, they r of Kamba blooded as well as Germans so alias dude and even Canadians. Worker and vineyard parable to bring reality dude, wanna remain in this world alone, is that true dude, not wanting it 4 others as u want it 4 ya self.

If u got the below gear, u can locate an old car and buy such 2 and connect to make ya own movable E-car esp the 1 tied with the motor and 1 without 4 it to be more soft, stop spending much on already made e-car, make yours today and save much a big time

https://www.alibaba.com/premium/Speed+Reducers.html?XPJAX=0&product_id=60750472126&tagId=c146910&pcate=146910&cid=146910&src=cpm_fb&ver=76w_20190529&account=DPA&campaign_id=6114792212116&campaign=mc_pc_pclp&ad_set_id=6114792213716&ad_set=pc_mc_completenewpclp&source=fb&placement=Facebook_Desktop_Feed&ad=mc_pc_newpclp_frame&fbclid=IwAR00s52JEI72fmQgGiACeJW_tOpTD9M-K8Ce6rUzYz7R2MLBQwZSsaT2N5M

Overseas shipping details in the link below

https://www.facebook.com/imailkenya/

Do adhere to Govt set rules even if u know they are heading no-where, just try not to get into the hands of the police by just appeasing them, anyway covid medication is grown ginger and many have bought such to cure them, the reason why such cases have diminished even if the govt is playing dice. Most such pretenders are of Kisii blood who just follow things to benefit and its a blessing in disguise as they are known that way. Always almost these people when they triumph, they can be tyranny or of bad character. U’d rather oppose such to portray a character of wanting development to many as opposed to the former case.

I need a spinje like the Jerry joe in the link below

https://www.alibaba.com/product-detail/Surround-Stereo-6-5-Big-Power_60584981171.html?spm=a2700.pcdrm.normalList.241.feefKYoaKYoaNR

Uganda as well claims they have known to build roads and structures such as buildings they way explained in tumblr a/c sirjustice202 as in the link below trying to explain

https://www.facebook.com/photo?fbid=1618395448308920&set=pcb.1618395504975581

https://www.facebook.com/kiiramotors/videos/179889533365237

Nigeria made hexacopter in the link in below

https://www.facebook.com/photo?fbid=804971810011442&set=a.563821404126485

1st Ghana made aircraft in the link below

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http%3A%2F%2Fkantanka.net%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2019%2F06%2Fghana-airways-1024x702-1.jpg&imgrefurl=http%3A%2F%2Fkantanka.net%2Ffirst-ghana-made-aircraft-takes-to-the-skies-3%2F&tbnid=nofkJZBegIhrdM&vet=10CJwBEDMorQFqFwoTCLj01dTb1ukCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAP..i&docid=Ib-gPB3a58J6mM&w=1024&h=702&q=kantanka%20military&ved=0CJwBEDMorQFqFwoTCLj01dTb1ukCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAP

In the link below is made in Ghana train

https://www.facebook.com/398698357548638/photos/pb.398698357548638.-2207520000../619818148769990/?type=3&eid=ARASO2wOo8XqtxcsrAXwlgXqJVhDnyxPX42dgPkmutUR6A-6hw4kiFmSxWUiqaJD52mo3eOXW_Rz7x8a

http://kantanka.net/first-ghana-made-aircraft-takes-to-the-skies-3/?unapproved=1100&moderation-hash=52a29b059f94c9dd7324bc8985f0f393#comment-1100

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ghana_Railway_Corporation#/media/File:Train_In_Accra_005.jpg

Nigeria launches space rocket in the link below as Germans buying their boats to affirm quality and forging alliance to finish Kebi utters delanu, my buying me food friend.

https://www.africanmilitaryblog.com/2019/10/race-to-space-nigeria-launches-homemade-rockets?v=65d8f7baa677

https://www.africanmilitaryblog.com/2020/05/germany-buys-nigerian-epenal-boats?v=65d8f7baa677

Made in Rwanda Laptops in the link below dude, just click and get a glimpse

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fpbs.twimg.com%2Fmedia%2FCVHahh1WIAAm44b.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Ftwitter.com%2Fngwata_%2Fstatus%2F671558160453357568&tbnid=BFMjvfMZvFRpoM&vet=12ahUKEwiXzPj24tbpAhUhAmMBHasGBdgQMygNegUIARCFAg..i&docid=9IGQVcTXnls_WM&w=1024&h=768&q=train%20made%20in%20rwanda&ved=2ahUKEwiXzPj24tbpAhUhAmMBHasGBdgQMygNegUIARCFAg

North Korea 1st made airplane and South Korea fighter jets in the link below

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.rnz.co.nz%2Fassets%2Fnews%2F84349%2Feight_col_plane.jpg%3F1475560645&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.rnz.co.nz%2Fnews%2Fnational%2F314906%2Fchinese-firm-flew-nz-made-plane-in-north-korea-show&tbnid=gqk4Th2J-7Jd3M&vet=12ahUKEwjXnPWv5NbpAhUR9OAKHVHhD5oQMygIegUIARD3AQ..i&docid=gLgJ7A7n64dtNM&w=546&h=341&q=airplane%20made%20in%20north%20korea%20images&ved=2ahUKEwjXnPWv5NbpAhUR9OAKHVHhD5oQMygIegUIARD3AQ

https://www.defensenews.com/air/2018/06/29/south-korea-unveils-first-images-of-kf-x-design-with-european-missiles/

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http%3A%2F%2Fstatic.rappler.com%2Fimages%2Fkorean-fighter-jet-20130130.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.rappler.com%2Fnation%2F20754-ph-to-buy-12-south-korean-fighter-jets&tbnid=ySCDyCeMq0jHLM&vet=12ahUKEwiRheaQ5dbpAhUS-4UKHRQPCFoQMygKegUIARD9AQ..i&docid=o1ZJyEg6aQ3KqM&w=640&h=360&q=south%20korea%20made%20airplane%20images&ved=2ahUKEwiRheaQ5dbpAhUS-4UKHRQPCFoQMygKegUIARD9AQ

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mdelpin · 5 years

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The Red Dragon - Chapter 12

Gratsu Bingo 2019 Prompt: Trust AO3 | FF.Net | Tumblr: Chapter 1 | Next: Chapter 13

Gratsubingo 2019 Prompt: Trust

Chapter 12 There was smoke everywhere, making it hard to see or make out any smell outside of sulfur. Natsu noticed a wall of fire to the left which could only belong to Atlas.

He was roaring, trying desperately to get at something just outside of Natsu’s view. There were bursts of spells in the air. Different kinds of magic clashing against each other in a cacophony of sound and light that drowned out every other noise.

Natsu's attention was soon drawn to the ground, where blood was splattered everywhere, making it seem like the earth itself was bleeding out.

He felt a massive surge of magical power and swiftly searched for its source. It seemed to be coming from a man who stood alone on the field, eyes glued to the battle in the sky. Natsu observed him closely, sensing his importance.

The man had long blue hair, his arms riddled with markings of the same color. Natsu could feel the aura of malevolence that surrounded him as he began to laugh in a way that made Natsu's skin crawl.

It was at that moment Natsu saw his father. Igneel looked tired and bruised, there were scars on his body where previously there had been none. He challenged the man on the field with a thunderous roar, but it sounded less confident than Natsu remembered, it lacked Igneel’s usual spirit.

Everything slowed down, and Natsu could only watch with a growing sense of dread as the man transformed into a dragon. A black dragon, covered in the blue markings of the man's skin.

But how could that be? There was someone else like him? Natsu had always been told he was the only one. The black dragon zoomed towards his father, and Natsu could do nothing but observe helplessly.

"IGNEEL! IGNEEL, NO! " Natsu could hear the desperate plea in Atlas' roar, and he forced himself to check on his uncle.

The wall of hellfire had disappeared to reveal the rest of his family. Metalicana, Grandine, Weisslogia, and Skiadrum looked exhausted and barely able to keep themselves in the air. Atlas left them behind as he flew towards his brother, his hellfire blazing around him, Natsu had never seen him act so recklessly, and it only fueled his despair ...

Gray startled awake, his magic already flaring as it fought against the oppressive heat Natsu was exuding. He was thrashing about on the bed, moaning unintelligibly.

"IGNEEL, NO!" Natsu suddenly shrieked in his sleep, tears streaming down his face, "Atlas, please hurry!"

"Natsu?" Gray tried shaking the fire mage, hissing as his fingers were instantly burned.

He covered himself in a layer of frost and continued to try to rouse his friend. "Natsu, wake up!"

Gray had to scamper away as Natsu's body covered itself in flames hotter than any Gray had ever felt before. The bed and all its coverings immediately disintegrated into a small cloud of ash.

Wendy and Sting ran into the room, a groggy looking Gajeel and Rogue lagging behind.

"What's going on?"

"He's having some kind of nightmare!" Gray yelled in alarm, having no idea what to do. He'd never seen Natsu like this, and his desperate screams were tearing at him.

The dragon slayers all tried to get close enough to Natsu to attempt to wake him, but Natsu's infernal flames made it impossible. He continued to thrash and scream out Igneel's name, getting louder and louder as desperation took over.

All the dragon slayers looked spooked, none of them knew what to do either. "Use your bond," Wendy suggested unsurely.

"My bond?" Gray peered at Wendy helplessly, "What?!"

He had no idea what she was talking about.

"You told Gajeel you heard Natsu calling you in your mind," Wendy reminded him, "We all saw you had some sort of conversation with him when Happy brought him back. He was unconscious, Gray. You could still talk to him because the two of you are bonded. Use that bond to break through to him."

Gray shook his head in confusion, Natsu was the one who usually initiated whatever this was. Always had been, since the first time. The few times he'd managed it had all been flukes. He'd thought Natsu was awake when he'd tried, he'd even tried again later and gotten no response.

"Just try, Gray," Wendy pleaded, "Look at him, he's hurting."

Gray closed his eyes and thought as hard as he could, pouring all of his concern into it.

Natsu? Natsu you need to wake up.

Natsu remained silent, but Gray was suddenly bombarded with a slew of feelings he couldn't interpret. There were far too many, and they were all muddled together. Still, he kept trying, desperate to get through to Natsu, not even noticing his own tears.

NATSU! Gray grunted in frustration, this wasn't getting them anywhere. He was about to turn to Wendy when he felt a sort of pull in his mind, and then he heard Natsu, his voice faint but there. Gray?

Yeah, it's me. You need to wake up, Natsu.

Our dragons are in trouble! Igneel, he's… he's…

It's not real Natsu, whatever you're seeing, it's not real. It's just a nightmare. You need to wake up.

But he needs me…

Gray put as much command as he was able into his thought.

NATSU DRAGNEEL, WAKE UP NOW!

Gray could feel their connection ebbing away, but he began to see results. Natsu stopped yelling, and the flames that surrounded him wavered until they disappeared. A few minutes later, his eyes blinked opened and he sat up, his breath coming in rapid gasps. Natsu covered his eyes with his arm and dissolved into sobs.

The dragon slayers all stood paralyzed, they'd never seen Natsu cry. Not when they were younger, not when Igneel left. They all looked at each other, not quite knowing what to do.

Gray was the only one to move. Right before everything had gone to hell, Natsu had woken him out of a horrible nightmare. He'd sat behind Gray and held him tightly. Even when Gray had tried to fight him off, Natsu had stubbornly held on, and that had been precisely what Gray had needed.

Gray sat behind Natsu now and pulled him into a tight embrace, ignoring the charred remains of the bed they had been sharing, some of which had gotten into the still healing burns on Natsu's back. Natsu didn't struggle, he just howled louder. Gray tried to comfort Natsu, he shushed him and made soothing noises, but mostly he just let him cry.

He lost track of the other people in the room as he focused solely on Natsu. What Gray had felt when they were connected, it was a pain so raw it had overwhelmed him. He might not have understood all the layers, but he didn't have to. It quashed all of his earlier anger and made him realize for the first time that Natsu was barely holding it together. He'd been putting on a show for them for months, maybe even longer.

When Natsu finally stopped crying, Gray let go of him, taking a better look at Natsu's back. He winced and looked for Wendy, who was sitting in a corner. All the other dragon slayers had left the room. Wendy looked shaken by Natsu's outburst, but she came over.

"We need to get him cleaned up before I can heal him," Wendy explained, reaching out to Natsu and gently shaking his shoulder, "Natsu, can you go in the bath?"

Natsu nodded but made no effort to move, so Gray stood up and pulled Natsu along with him, following Wendy through the maze-like cave until they reached a hot spring. She left them alone and waited outside.

"You guys have your own hot spring?" Gray looked around him in amazement.

Natsu nodded listlessly. Gray found some bathing supplies and gently urged Natsu into the water.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Gray asked softly.

Natsu shook his head, looking almost like a child as the tears once again welled in his eyes. Gray grabbed a washcloth and used it to wash Natsu's back, making sure to get all the char out of his wounds in as gentle a manner as possible. Natsu gave no indication he even felt it.

"It's okay, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Gray assured him, "You gave us quite a scare, though."

"I'm sorry," Natsu bowed his head, refusing to meet Gray's eyes.

"Don't worry about it. Do you mind if I join you?" Gray waited for Natsu to respond in the affirmative before wading in to remove all the dirt from his own skin. The water was much warmer than he liked so he quickly got out and Natsu followed behind him.

Wendy led them back to Natsu's room, observing the lack of response with concern. She let Natsu enter by himself, giving him privacy to get dressed.

Wendy handed Gray a change of clothes that he recognized with dismay as belonging to Sting. He put them on without comment, knowing they'd be off soon enough anyway.

"Did he say anything to you?" Wendy asked once he was dressed.

"Just that he was sorry for worrying us."

Wendy and Gray shared a concerned glance before entering the room. They were greeted by the sight of Natsu, dressed in pajama pants, cuddling up to Happy. The wyrmling had wrapped his wings around Natsu and was making purring noises that seemed to relax the dragon slayer.

Happy tensed the moment he saw Gray, fixing his eyes on the ice mage, and seeming ready to fly away. Gray managed to fight off his initial instincts, his concern for Natsu overriding his hatred for the moment.

He put his hands up in front of his body and slowly backed out of the room, understanding that Happy was doing a better job of comforting Natsu than he'd been able to.

It made sense, the dream seemed to have something to do with their dragons, and Happy was the closest Natsu had to his two missing red dragons.

In a way, Gray was relieved. It gave him time to think about how he wanted to handle the situation. There were so many answers he wanted from Natsu, but not at the price of spooking him. Natsu was stressed enough as it was.

Gray made his way to the entrance of the cave, enjoying some cold air for the first time in hours. The more Gray thought about it, the more he thought Erza was probably right in her assumptions.

Natsu was actively searching for any hostile dragons close enough to be a threat to the village, taking care of them before they had a chance to cause any damage. It was the only thing that made any sense to Gray, and it terrified him.

He'd watched as a dragon had destroyed his entire village in mere minutes. He realized Natsu had a particular type of magic that let him fight dragons, but he also remembered how big Deliora had been and he just couldn't believe that Natsu could defeat something like that on his own, even with his magic. He didn't want to lose another person he loved to those beasts.

Gray knew he could continue to pressure Natsu, demand answers the dragon slayer was not willing to give, but all it would really accomplish would be to create a wedge between them. One from which they might never recover.

As much as he hated it, Gray had to accept that Natsu needed to put his life in danger to protect the town until the war was over, or their dragons returned.

Nothing Gray felt for Natsu would change that. Nor should it, Gray was being selfish, and he knew it. There were bigger things at stake here than his feelings. The attack already proved that what Natsu was doing was important. It had undoubtedly saved countless lives.

He groaned in defeat. There really was only one choice, he had to put his trust in Natsu and support him. Anything else would just push him away, and that possibility was not one Gray was ready for.

Wendy came looking for him. "I was able to heal him completely this time, his burns are finally gone."

She gazed at him proudly, "What you did back there, I know that was hard for you, but it was what he needed. He's doing better now, you can go see him if you want."

"Wendy, that bond, what does it mean?"

"I think that's a question you should ask Natsu, the two of you have a lot to discuss." Wendy patted him on the shoulder before leading him back to Natsu's room. Wendy bid Natsu good night, taking Happy with her, and leaving a very nervous looking Natsu alone with Gray.

Natsu took one look at Gray's outfit and started to snicker.

"Oh, shut up. It's not like I picked it." Gray grumbled in annoyance.

"Can you please take off that crop top at least? I can't take you seriously when you look like that." Natsu tried to contain his laughter but failed miserably.

Gray had to admit he would gladly wear the outfit for a week if it could get Natsu to laugh like that. It had been too long since Gray had heard it.

"I suppose you weren't expecting any of this when you stayed over, huh?" Natsu chuckled nervously.

"A lot of things have happened that I wasn't expecting," Gray agreed, "But that's not important now. Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, it was just a very vivid dream..." Natsu ran his fingers through his hair, "Thanks for leading me out of it."

"How did I do that, Natsu?" Gray looked into Natsu's eyes, expecting to see them closed off, but they had never seemed more earnest. "What is this bond that Wendy was talking about?"

"I was going to tell you eventually, it's just always so complicated between us, " Natsu sighed, unsure of how much to explain.

"We've had a connection to each other, a soulbond, since we first met in the woods all those years ago. It's how I was able to send you that message, and how you were able to reach out to me," Natsu smiled timidly at Gray, "It's also how I knew you would turn up here someday and despite how badly I screwed up on that first day, I really am glad you're here."

"I'm so sorry for all the trouble I caused you today," Natsu said honestly, "I never should've gotten hurt, I got careless cause I was near home."

"Can you tell me what attacked you?" Gray tried very hard not to make it sound like a demand, "Those were pretty nasty ice burns."

Natsu gazed at Gray for a few minutes, his thoughts a jumble of wants and needs and fears. "I want to tell you, but I know how you're going to react."

"It was a dragon, wasn't it?" Gray felt the fear flood his system to the point that he began to shake as he realized that his worst nightmare had almost become a reality. "Natsu, please tell me the truth, I want you to trust me."

"Don't you think I want to trust you? This dragon thing with you, it's the only thing keeping me from...," Natsu stopped himself as he realized what he'd almost said.

"From what?" Gray did push this time, he was tired of all the hiding. All he wanted was for them to be together. With the ever-present threat of the war reaching Talos, Gray didn't want to waste any more time.

"From telling me how you feel about me? Do you really think I don't already know? Don't you think I feel the same way?"

"Did you know that you call me every time you fall asleep in the field?" Gray caught Natsu's gaze and refused to let go of it, wanting Natsu to see him, to hear what he had to say and for once to take him seriously.

"You call me and then when you wake up, you don't even know why I'm there. How do you think that makes me feel? What should I think when everything you say or do when you're awake pushes me away?"

"I thought that might be happening," Natsu closed his eyes in frustration and to give himself some time to think. This conversation had taken a decidedly different turn from what he'd intended. He counted to five and opened his eyes again only to find Gray's midnight blue eyes still boring into him.

"It's the bond, it knows what I want. I can't seem to keep control over it when I'm asleep."

"What am I supposed to do with that?" Gray demanded angrily, "Why are you trying to control it at all?"

All this time he'd thought Natsu was just not aware of his feelings, to find out that he not only knew about them but was holding them back pissed Gray off.

He was starting to let his anger take over, and that was dangerous, he needed to get himself under control before he said something he'd regret.

"If you want me Natsu, I'm right here. I always have been." Gray softened his tone as much as he could, but he knew he still sounded angry.

"Of course I want you, you jackass. I always have," Natsu yelled, seeming angrier than Gray had ever seen him, "But what the hell am I supposed to do when you hate everything I am?"

"What are you talking about, Natsu?"

"I was raised by dragons, Gray, those same creatures that you would destroy. They're all I know."

"Natsu, I--"

"Don't even bother to deny it, we both know it would be a lie." Natsu's anger had somehow evaporated, leaving a deep sorrow in its wake, "Don't you see how futile this is?" Natsu entreated Gray to understand.

"It's not that easy for me, Natsu. It's not a switch I can just turn off. A dragon destroyed everything I knew and loved. It was brutal and cruel, and I was there. I saw it, and I can never forget it. I still have nightmares about it."

Gray tried his best to explain, and in baring his despair, he spoke the most honest words he'd ever uttered to Natsu or anyone else. "Ever since that day, I've lived in dread of the moment when it will happen again."

"But I'm also starting to see that there are some differences. I hear the dragon slayers talking about their dragons with love and affection. I've seen they can also care for humans like Happy just did for you."

" I'm trying, Natsu," Gray pleaded, "Doesn't that count for anything?"

They stared at each other in silence, trying to figure out where to go from there. Things had been said that could not be forgotten. Truths had been confessed, and feelings had been hurt.

"A renegade dragon slayer coming after Igneel, and Atlas not being able to get to him in time." Natsu shared quietly, shattering the silence.

"What?" Gray had no idea what Natsu was talking about. He would have been annoyed at what he felt was a blatant change of subject if it wasn't for the haunted look in Natsu's eyes. This was important to him.

"That's my biggest fear, it's what my nightmare was about. You told me yours, I thought it only fair you knew mine," Natsu attempted to smile at Gray, but it was too much to ask.

This seemingly endless night had been too much, and Natsu's every last nerve was frayed. He sat down in the place where his bed used to be. He'd have to replace it tomorrow. If Atlas were here, he'd just conjure him a new one while Igneel would make fun of him for incinerating yet another bed. Natsu could almost hear Igneel's deep rumbling laugh echoing in his room, and it hurt so much.

He tried to focus on how annoying it would be to lug a mattress up the mountain and any other number of mundane things, trying to get back to some sense of normalcy, but it didn't work. He could still hear the laughter, but all he felt was vast loneliness, and Natsu was so tired of feeling lonely. Why was he doing this to himself? His love, his one desire was there with him. Gray wanted him, and Natsu was hurting him by denying him, denying them.

His resolve weakened, he was tired of feeling empty, of fighting the inevitable. What was even the point? They were meant to be together, fate had already decreed it.

Gray must have gone to the main room while Natsu sat thinking, for he returned carrying pillows and blankets. He set about making them a nest of sorts as Natsu watched. Gray looked calmer as he organized the space, walking over to Natsu and offering him his hand as soon as he was done.

Natsu let himself be led to bed. He lay down, facing Gray.

"Thank you for trusting me with your fear," Gray reached out with his thumb, caressing Natsu's cheek gently, "I know that wasn't easy for you."

He looked at Gray gratefully. It felt so nice to be loved like this. He wanted nothing more than to love Gray, to share with him everything he was, but he still couldn't do that.

Gray was right, he was trying to get past his prejudice. Maybe someday Gray could even come to accept the fact that Natsu was as much dragon as he was human. Until then, Natsu would just share all his humanity with the man he loved.

Natsu reached out with his own thumb, imitating Gray's movements. He was rewarded with a smile that tore away at any last doubt Natsu might have had. "What you said earlier, it does count. It counts for a lot, Princess."

He removed his thumb from Gray's cheek and placed his hand behind Gray's neck, gently tugging him forward. Natsu searched for the lips he'd wanted to kiss for so long.

He wanted nothing more than to press them against his own. To claim the ice mage as his. Gray met him eagerly, and they finally shared their first kiss. It was awkward as neither of them was quite sure what to do, but Natsu still loved it, and he smiled as he felt a jolt of shared pleasure flood their bond.

"I'm sorry I made you wait so long," Natsu whispered as he shifted to lay on his back, something he hadn't been able to do since the attack. Gray made himself comfortable, laying his head on Natsu's chest, and wrapping his body around the fire mage. Natsu immediately ran his fingers through Gray's hair, enjoying the feel of it on his skin.

No more words were shared that night, neither wanting to ruin the moment. They were both emotionally drained and content to just lay in each other's arms. Tomorrow would come soon enough.

A/N: I just want to point out how incredible it is that I began work on this chapter months ago, with no idea about what the Gratsu Week prompts were and I still somehow managed to write a chapter that fit the prompt for July 20th (Dreams). I mean come on that’s crazy. Alas, it’s an update so I can’t enter it, but Trust is also a big theme in this chapter so I decided to go with that!

I’m hoping this satisfies some of you? I know it’s been a long time coming but holy shit they finally made progress! 😂

#fairy tail #gratsu #gratsubingo2019 #ftlgbtales #fairy tail big bang 2018 #update #stingue #lyon x erza #dragon slayers #dragons #prompt: trust

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