#sort of an early-modern city-state AU?

[pauking5]

Runaway 🏎️ Chapter 4 🏁

Pairing: Naozumi Hiyama x fem reader oc

Genre: racing AU, enemies to lovers, sports rivalry, suspense, a whole lot of teasing, gender power games, spice

Word count: 18.5k+

A/N: Been a while but she's back and kicking. Apologies it took so long. Can't wait for you to read the next ones since I've been kicking my legs writing them. I'll just let you read. Enjoy ;)

Raiko's Playlist: Fallen - Richard Durand Remix, Like Water - Wendy, RACE - Bang Yongguk, Both - Tiesto, 21 Savage, Blank Space - CHANEY, All Night - Icona Pop, Rerun - Honey Revenge, Royal Pirates - Drawing The Line

Previous

Since the star of the show chose the act of disappearance, the buzz of the night drew significantly quiet. The crowds swarmed to chat about the events of the night, keeping the man who got away in their thoughts as the hot topic, especially since he took off in a less than graceful escapade, the front of his car a wreck of paint work.

Just as damaged as his dignity losing public poise for that matter.

But for all that, the night was completely yours to rule. You still couldn't believe you beat the Naozumi Hiyama, the wonder of modern rally, in all but the dirtiest manner to settle debts - street racing, where it all began in the first place.

Your nerves buzzed and tingled in utter joy like you were still in the car, pushing 120 down the city streets with the cops after you. A story worth to tell your grandchildren.

Some of the models that previously coiled themselves around Naozumi's neck on the yacht, now tried to get your number to meet up with you. Many phones passed through your hands to exchange numbers, so many that you lost count. People you didn't even know passed around congratulatory wishes like "Good race" and "Great job out there", including some of the drivers from the series that stuck around to see the show unfold.

You hung out with Akira a little more, poking fun at your tumultuous first weekend in the world of professional rally and how quiet his early rookie days were, then broke rows and drove back home, completely spent. The week needed to end before it ended you. Though you wouldn't mind the high of tonight to continue a little more.

Taking a ride around the city, you wanted to make sure those cops didn't want a rerun of earlier downtown shenanigans and took a longer drive home. Laying low from in-town night driving for a while might be for the best for now. So you just enjoyed tonight like it was the last night you got to drive around free and careless.

The cool night air blew in through your open windows, whistling through your hair as you climbed the main bridge lane. The roads were empty now, waiting for you to step on the gas and take them at full speed.

For some reason, your foot eased on the throttle, feeling the need to just appreciate the ride without rushing anywhere - your very own version of taking a walk to clear your head. To just drive without a set destination, getting lost in the passing flicker of neon signs and city lights and tall illuminated skyscrapers lined up on the edge of the road.

For the first time this early spring, the sky was clear of clouds. Tiny stars far in the distance blinked down at you in millions of all kinds of shapes and formations.

As much as you hated this city and the people in it, who lived to step on others for any small sliver of success and fame, by gods you loved it.

Nights like these, empty of any human trace, when the city was deeply quiet and the skyline shone bright, were so oddly comforting. It felt like time just stopped ticking, the hands of the speedometer stopped moving up or down to determine your speed, and eternity just swallowed you into a wrinkle in time. A black hole state of sorts. A void where you could just exist.

No responsibilities. No stress. No pressure.

Just you, the car and the road.

Even going slower than you usually drive, you pulled up on your street in no time, driving down the slope of houses until you reached your driveway. A big, dark blue Ranger was parked in front of the garage - your dad was home. It was rare to find him home at the weekend. Even rarer to find him on the front steps, a cheap can of beer opened in his hand, looking off into the distance, contemplating life from the looks of it.

Parking next to the truck, you cut the ignition and rolled the windows up. Giving your sweet ride a gentle pat on the leather casing of the wheel to thank her for her efforts tonight, you got out and walked to him.

Seeing you close in on the porch made his face light up, a tired smile pulling at his lips, crinkling his tired eyes. You gave him one of yours, taking a moment to just look at him and bask in his presence. He did not look a day over 25, though his ID's begged to differ. Not one grey hair lock or wrinkle ruining the image of him you grew up with like he was an evergreen tree.

"Hi, dad."

"Hey, kid."

"Glad to see you home," you smiled at him, genuinely happy to see him after this horrendous week.

"Your mother would say otherwise," he chuckled, taking a good chug from his can, smile turning bitter on the edges.

You walked up a few steps and took a seat next to him. Your hand reached halfway for a can on his side, but he intercepted your need before you could ask. He grabbed one and plucked the lid open for you then held it out to you. You gave him the 'I'm not a little kid' look at which he laughed, giving you the fatherly look reserved for his dear precious jewel - you.

"What did you do this time?"

"Forgot to bring her a souvenir from Tokai," he sighed. "You know that golf tournament she watches like crazy?"

You were well aware of your mom's weekendly hobby of sitting in front of the TV and watching men in designer polo co-ords hit a ball with a club like it was some interesting sport. She would often argue yours and your father's heads off that it was. You nodded.

"They sold signed merch this weekend since they played there. She wanted that hideous plain green cap of that player she likes so much."

"I could've picked one up," you stated.

"I forgot to call," he sighed again.

That sigh held something deeper to it. Something was weighing down on him. You could see right through that weary smile, the lowered shoulders and the frown he tried to stop from pulling at his brows.

"Dad," you called out softly. His eyes shifted from the ground to you. You bumped his shoulder playfully. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

He looked down, a wry smile tilting a corner of his lip upwards.

"I can't hide from you, can I?"

"Not a chance."

He laughed again.

"I heard about what you've done today."

Your breath hitched. Did he know about the illegal race with Naozumi? If he did, you were in deep shit. Deeper than you could ever crawl your way out of since you didn't know how he would react to it.

But how could he know so early? It was mere hours ago. Surely news travels fast but not this fast.

Before you could think of what to say he spoke first.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to help with the rally," he spoke regretfully.

Oh.

It wasn't about the race. The illegal one. He was talking about the whole fiasco with the oil change and the car not running, resulting in the team having to pull out from the first stage of the final day. Losing points over a system error which wasn't really anyone's fault.

"Oh, that?" you let out above a whisper, thankful it wasn't the other thing. "It's no biggie. I had it covered," you tried to reassure him.

Him being him, he had to beat himself up over it.

"I know you did, but you didn't have to. You're supposed to be the driver. Not the promoter, spokesperson and the mechanic all in one package deal. Just the driver."

"That's not so much fun now, is it?"

"Raiko," he warned, asking you to be serious for once.

"Dad," you thundered without backing down, turning to face him fully before continuing. "If that's what's bothering you, you're stressing over nothing. I'm glad to have been able to help."

He stayed quiet, partly listening, partly busying himself with tracing the rims on the empty can in his hand as if it was the outer lip of a tire that needed fast replacing.

"That's what you taught me, remember? To lay my skills where needed, as big or small as they are. I didn't sit in that garage for years, spending my time counting loose screws and random oil spots on the floor and I definitely wasn't going to sit back and not finish the round at all. I did what I had to do and that's over with."

"And we got a good result out there. Not the best, but we're getting there. There's no need to beat yourself up over it."

His gaze dropped to the ground as if the unkept grass patio would cut itself if he looked hard enough at it.

"I just..." he started, exhaling a shallow breath. "I feel like I'm not there enough for the team. For your mom. For you."

Your gaze softened. You knew where he was coming from.

He was sacrificing his time, health and enjoyment of the sport that meant the world to him to break through with sponsorship deals and fund the team as much as he could. Even if that meant he couldn't physically be there to lead the team and be a father. He didn't give himself enough time to learn how to be either or before, but he tried his best in both jobs and that was the most you could ever wish for.

Trying was better than giving up. So much better. And he gave it his all, pouring immense dedication, body and soul, wherever he needed to, thing that you always admired about him. That unparalleled strength to push forward despite life being so unpredictable.

Scooting closer to link your arm with his bigger one, you pulled him in for a side hug, tugging him as close as your arms could wrap around him to make sure he felt all the adoration and affection oozing off of you. Beyond the faint smell of oil still sticking to your body after two consecutive aromatic shampoo filled showers.

He gave in to your trick of relaxation, head falling on top of yours, sighing again, seemingly in deep relief this time. You could feel the stress leave his body like a defused bomb silently going back to being stable. Like your words managed to reach him and make him let go of some worries for a little while. That and knowing what a sucker he was for hugs in any shape or form.

"You're doing your best, dad," you mumbled in his shoulder, shifting your eyes to him as your hand moved to rubbing his other shoulder in comfort. "It's okay to take a break from being the best sometimes."

A small laugh escaped him at that last remark, turning to you with a grin. A genuine one.

"Sometimes I wonder if you're really my daughter," he says amusedly.

"Of course I am," you confirmed. "Through and through."

You placed your temple to his and let out a breath of ease.

"Blood from blood and brow from brow, remember?"

That was your shared pledge of trust. The one line he's been voicing to you since you've been the size of a chicken nugget, running and stumbling over your legs, until now, when you became a young adult navigating the novelties of life. Though recently, it wasn't him reminding you of it but the other way around. And you would say it as many times as he needed to hear it.

He's been stabbed in the back enough times to fall behind on the trusting people business. That's why everyone close to him protected him and his peace. That's why Don Tanaka warned you about coveting with the enemy. He might have bounced back from losing everything and everyone back when the team first failed, acting like he was fine, but you could see right through it.

Time and time again, you'd find him in the team garage at night trying to fix stuff that would never work again. Broken parts since there was no more money to replace them. Smoking engines that refused to start up without catching on fire. He tried and tried to fix things like they would fix his life and you hated every second of it.

People turned on him, acting so vile and betrayed, while he had to sit and watch his career fall to pieces. He deserved a lot better than the world gave him. Way better.

Another one of those would mean game over for him. You couldn't risk it. That's why you tried to pick up the foam and fill in the cracks wherever you could. Fundraising. Hunting for new parts and changing them yourself. Amping the team. Anything and everything that needed to be done.

"Always," he breathed out, knocking his temple to yours.

This moment was as needed by him as it was by you. Just sitting on the front porch in the middle of the night, listening to the sleepless city come alive again, enjoying each other's presence. You rarely got moments like these. But when you did, you held onto them with your teeth.

"Where were you out this late by the way?" he asked, raising an inquisitive brow.

He was never one for strict curfews. Neither was your mom, and you were thankful for having understanding parents like them. But there were always surprise questions like these just lurking to be asked. Good thing you were in good spirits. More or less anyways.

"At Naozumi's victory bash," you took one more chug of your beer, gulping the rest of the can dry.

The cheap ale ran down your throat bitterly but also somehow comfortingly. Maybe convenience store bought alcohol wasn't so bad after all. Or it just mattered whose company you were in while you drank it.

"How was it? Do they celebrate like we used to, throwing huge raves in town with the streets joining in on the free booze and dancing with exquisite ladies even after the morning sun was up? Or do they kick you out after a certain time?"

Your mouth hung open. "I'm sorry, WHAT?! That's how you celebrated back then? That's crazy!"

An image of your father busting out disco moves in the club, drunk out of his ass with his rally comrades, friends and foes flashed in your mind and you struggled to keep it together.

There had to be photographic evidence. Gotta ask mom about that. I'm sure she has loads of those. You made sure to leave a sparkly red mental note on that.

"If you're having one of those with me," he pointed to the cheap beer cans from the convenience store you were sharing, "it must've been disappointing."

"It was more of a celebrity gathering on his yacht rather than a first place celebration. There was alcohol, but get this - the bar was on a paid by the guest basis and he served everyone alcohol-free champagne!"

"That's bonkers," his eyes widened, shocked to hear that.

"Something about keeping the goodies for real wins or some stuff like that," you added, wiggling the empty can between your fingers.

"Well, champagne should be for podium only."

"Oh god, not you too! You can genuinely have champagne without sitting on the podium."

"You can, but it doesn't feel the same. You'll see when you get your first. You never forget that one. The paid alcohol thing is nasty though," he grimaced as if he himself was invited and felt hurt by the party etiquette.

The soft breeze turned colder as the night grew darker, cutting your father-daughter hang out time short. Picking up after yourselves to leave the porch as you found it, you both made way inside and discarded the cans trying to make as little noise as possible. From the looks of it, your mother was long gone to dreamland, the house fully drenched in darkness and silence. Waking her up was a recipe to disaster. The kind none of you wanted to face after this hell of a week.

You both tiptoed around as quietly as you could, stabbing a toe or hitting an elbow here and there. Climbing to the top of the stairs together, holding onto each other's weary and tired backs, you bid your goodbyes at the intersection between your rooms.

"Good night, dad," you smiled at him once more.

He smiled back, lifting a hand to caress the side of your face gently, calloused fingers tilting your chin up. "Good night, lightning strike."

You watched him trudge to his room, shutting the door quietly behind him, careful not to wake your mother. They barely got time for each other lately. You knew she would be happy to wake up to him finally in bed for once and that made your heart a little warmer.

Maybe he'll be okay, you hoped turning up a meek smile.

Crawling to your own bed that's been calling your name all day long, you shoved off your jeans and leather jacket drowsily, leaving you in your band tee. You pulled on your soft McQueen pants on since they were the only thing you unpacked.

Naozumi could laugh all he wanted. These are the comfiest pyjama pants ever made, you pat down the material gleeful to see the red car smile victoriously at you.

One day, McQueen. One day.

Dropping onto the bed like a sack of potatoes, disregarding your unpacked bags as a job for tomorrow's you, you closed your eyes, breathing in the comforting smell of home. You haven't been gone for too long but you sure missed your bed as if it was your long lost lover.

You missed the way the mattress dipped comfortably under your aching body, allowing you to relax every tensed muscle from your back down to your calves. How the pillows were sprawled everywhere to just grab and plunge your head into. And the nice quiet of the neighborhood, thing that you would trade millions of times for having Naozumi as your next door neighbor.

Your thoughts drifted to him once more.

He was so... unreadable. No. He was readable when he wanted to be. The other times he was just selfish, overbearing, and almost too cocky for his own good. Besides his fits of arrogance and normal disgust for the world. And his overexaggerated displays of entitled behaviour.

However, you couldn't deny you saw a different side to him tonight - the amount of pride he had in the one person who sung solely in his victorious tune - himself.

What was pride to Naozumi Hiyama? you wondered.

An excessive need to be the best above the best and a desire to hightail it down the hall of fame in complete vanity of his many talents?

Obsession garnering on self-destruction, just to prove that he's right to win rally rounds by the handful? Tuning out everyone else, competition, team or close friends? Reaching out to stretch more than his duvet could cover?

Hubris sneakily doused in humility brought empires to their downfall. History bled that story on pages over and over again. That was right where his little own empire was heading too, right into ruin and complete culmination before it managed to stick out high and mighty at the top, much like his ego did on the daily.

Naozumi could throw it all away just to prove himself worthy of being the champion. That might just be why you felt for the guy after you just proved yourself worthy of the road. Worthy of being more than just a newbie right in front of his face, using his own defences against him.

He was a rookie himself not that long ago, chasing hard earned respect by the bucket from the very world sitting idly at his feet now. But he seems to have forgotten just what it took to gain this sensational crowd, the amazing women tangling in his sheets ever so nightly, the roar of attention from the world. The promised stardom.

The biggest thing he failed to remember was that all of that could slip through those nimble fingers of his so quickly. Before he could even realise it. Before he even had a chance to reach for it and keep it safe.

You sighed, decompressing further into the mattress, unable to take your mind off him.

Why did it bother you so much that he was self-sabotaging his career knowingly, throwing all his dignity and humanity away for a trophy and a multi-million dollar contract deal to join the big guys in the global WRC? Why did it scratch you so wrong that he was being a dick to the only people that were there to help him?

Then another curious thought popped into your head.

It was wrong to compare Naozumi to your father. Wrong and twisted in so many different ways. But where the lines of past rally legend Hiro Suruki and present rally prodigy Naozumi Hiyama drove until they raced parallel to each other, they were so similar. Painfully similar.

In the way they both took to the dirt road like maniacs, trusting the cars to drive them to their one and only desire in life: winning. Winning race after race, the public, the very right to call themselves the golden boys of two entirely different generations of rally racing.

To have it all and to lose it all.

A game of the gods.

Although they played the same wretched game, there were significant, almost crepuscular differences between the two. Your father practiced a good amount of humility. He looked failure in the face and chose to make good on what he already had, big or small, powerful or powerless, being a known legend or a forgotten nobody. He took it as it was given to him, for what it was, not what it could have been.

Naozumi, on the other hand, was a different specimen in that field. He laughed heartily in the presence of defeat, probably threw a middle finger at it, then stomped right through it like it was a virtue to be a self-righteous asshole in life. As if being simply himself for a while would be his Achilles heel. The very thing that could end him.

He might be on his way up, nearly grasping the handle on the gates of the hall of fame. But just as close as he could get to tugging those doors open, he could fall back to be nothing but a beginner just as fast.

He was racing himself in his own head and that could make him lose everything in a heartbeat.

The road forgives no one.

It surely won't start with Naozumi Hiyama.

On the other side of town, a pair of angry dark eyes peered into the city skyline from his own lone drive around the streets of Tokyo. His jaw sat rigid, ticking with every new thought inflicting pure rage through his veins. All thoughts drifting around his public victory, his personal defeat, and you.

Tonight was a glitch in the simulation. A turn in the track he never saw coming even if his co-driver would've paced it to him, ahead of his wheels tasting it or his eyes taking notice of it. His reaction time was off in the worst ways possible. An error that sent his system into overdrive.

In all his years as a rally driver, there wasn't a time when he was a sore loser in the face of defeat. But this one loss left a bloody taste in his mouth no amount of alcohol could take out even if he drowned himself in it.

He was so wrong to brush you off, thinking you weren't fit to be competition. His competition. Knowing it deep down within himself that you'd barely make it past a few rally rounds before you pulled out of the series. So sure that you wouldn't last long in that shabby car of yours tuned for disaster more than driving.

But you had fight in you.

A fire burning deep within, flaring bright in your eyes from the moment you stepped up to the table tonight, in front of all those people, to challenge him to a battle of wits. Publicly. Shamelessly.

Pulling up to a red traffic light, he sighed bitterly. He thought he had it right in the palm of his hands. The one he was currently squeezing tight around the leather of the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white and his nails dug sharp indents inside of it.

She's playing a dangerous game. She has no idea what world she just entered. This world takes more than it gives. It takes your soul.

It will take hers and crush it to pieces like gravel lining up the road.

I gave her a fair warning with that threat but as it seems it fell on deaf ears. Probably part of the Suruki charm.

The traffic light above turned green but his foot stood still, both lifted and lowered halfway from meeting the pedal. He didn't press the gas.

The streets were deserted. No one was going to push him to move it and drive off. Not that he wanted to. He was way too preoccupied with something else, much more troubling than being shoved off the road.

He stared through the windshield up ahead at nothing in particular, just thinking. Absorbing his defeat like he never lost a race in his career ever before. Not this pathetically anyway. Refusing to accept that anyone could take the road away from him. No one would take that away from him. Not that clown parading in the Sigma Racing gear. Not his team who had no trust in his driving. Not even you.

The pedestrian alert beeped in the silence of the night until the lights overhead turned red again. And he was stuck. Again. His rage was surprisingly all gone now, seeping out of his body and drifting away until it was replaced by something else. Something stronger, beckoning him to take the alternative route of retrieving his honor without breaking away from his path. The only path he dedicated his life to.

And then it dawned on him.

If he had to witness the second fall of the Suruki family, why not make it a fun time and take a part in it? Satisfy that hidden curiosity of his about you and how much you could take of this world before it was too much and it swallowed you whole.

Taunt, tempt, torment.

Now that was a game he would've been mad not to play. Much more when his opponent was you.

You crave war, Raiko Suruki.

The traffic lights barely flashed yellow and his foot was ripping the gas pedal at the speed of lightning, a devilish smirk spreading on his face as he sped through the streets with a newfound purpose.

And you've tempted me enough to bring it to you.

Monday mornings are nice.

When you're not called to the team headquarters by your PR agent at the ass crack of dawn.

Kate's urgent call came through with the first rays of sun, her specific battle ringtone blaring loudly in the quiet of your darkened room. Dazed, you picked up the call only to meet her low voice on the other end, laced with an undertone of warning that if you didn't show up to the main office as fast as your foot could press the throttle, your career as a rally driver was as good as dead.

Capsized, finished, dissolved, and a few other calamity related words she had at hand to explain the situation.

Half-asleep, but scared shitless, you stumbled down the stairs as quietly as you could, since your dad's snores told you he was still asleep and you didn't need to wake him up anytime soon. You shoved whatever shoes you could find and drove over, grateful it wasn't morning rush hour yet.

What you didn't expect to find when you threw the office door open was a sleepless Kate in a track suit, with rims around her eyes, and a groggy Naozumi, seated at one end of the conference table. You were more taken aback by the latter of the two, stopping in the door to blink and squint your eyes at him repeatedly, thinking you were imagining his presence. Like your anxiety started associating him with life or death situations and he would just spawn before you.

Lifting an annoyed brow at your staring, he scoffed, falling back in his chair at the sight of you.

Nope, he's very real and he's throwing daggers at me.

Throwing some right back, you noticed he was still dressed in last night's clothes.

Did he even go home?

Kate clicked her jaw and suddenly you didn't really like the vibes in the room. Before you could tow out the door and back in your car to drive away and hide in your room forever, possibly requesting an email transcript of this atrocious meeting, Kate seized you by the arm hard, but gently, and maneuvered you in the empty seat next to him. Your knee pushed his on accident since he was manspreading like he was right at home. Moving your knee away, he took it as an invitation to open his legs even more, tapping the side of your leg on purpose.

Roosters haven't even crowed and he has the mood for violence this early.

Reeling back your leg, you pushed your knee harder into his, sending it knocking into his other one. He sent his into yours in response only angering you further. You kept going at it until loud tapping against the table broke your fighting apart before it became a brawl.

Kate cleared her throat trying to move your attention from his annoying taunts. And she did. One look at her quiet form on the other side of the table had you gulping down your nervousness for what she had to say, as well as bitterness for why this swine had to be here to listen in to life changing news.

On that note, why am I here either?

Your mouth opened to ask just that when Kate wordlessly shoved a magazine on the table, kind of answering your unasked question. Cautiously leaning over the table, mindful of the sharp glare she trained on you, your eyes scanned the front cover of a scandal outlet fresh off the press, surprised to see a security camera shot of you driving your car through the city with Naozumi's right beside you, from the night before.

The title read Prodigies of rally taking an illegal ride downtown topped with a few other blurry inserts of your face here and there.

That doesn't look so bad. You can't even see my face in them-

As if sensing your denial, Kate picked up several more magazines, newspapers, even printed copies of digital news and posts from social media, lining them all up in front of you. These had yours and Naozumi's faces clear as day and your cars as taken by paparazzi, photographed from a distance or up close, alongside those posted online by the celebrities present at your little event from last night.

Where some of the newspaper headlines were even worse than the magazine articles blurbs, the social media posts made up for it with praises of the spectacle the crowd was given.

"Care to explain?" asked Kate, though it wasn't really a question and more of a demand.

You sorted through some of them and pointed to a tweet and a magazine cover, replying to her query with a question of your own.

"I look great in these ones. Can you ask for the HD's so I can frame them?"

Kate let out a pained breath, leaning forward on the table in front of you. She was not happy with your response or your attitude to the situation, but she kinda demanded a lot at merely six in the morning.

Maybe I should book her that gua sha spa treatment she keeps going on about.

"Why were you there, Raiko?"

"Well," you started, hacking a nervous laugh out. "You know..."

"No. I actually don't know. So, please do explain."

Her brown eyes resembled sparkling, squishy bubble tea pearls this early. But they were piercing through you, less friendlier and soft, and a lot more authoritative, much like cannon balls about top be fired at you.

Since you weren't taking the lead to explain, Naozumi took it away. Which might have been a huge mistake. On his part.

"It's not that big of a deal," he rushed out with an exasperated breath.

Kate's eyes flew to him in a breath. That one sentence was enough to put him directly on her blacklist. You didn't miss the way she angled him down like he was the very devil risen up from the pits of hell to ruin her Monday. Not like Mondays were fun anyways.

"Maybe to you it isn't. But to her career that hasn't even started yet, it is."

Naozumi leant over the table, trying to assert himself like the male alpha figure he know he is. He flashed her his pearly smile and that stare of his that could send your pulse hammering like a sledgehammer.

"We could put this all behind us if you wanted to."

He did not just try to flirt like that.

That charming mode of his might have worked with someone else. But this was Kate. She eats men on a silver platter to do her job and she did one hell of a good job. He was wrong to expect that his tactics would work on her of all people.

"Oh, I would. If it was was me who was driving and not you two. What the fuck were you thinking getting her into this mess?"

"Why don't you stick to your driver and leave me alone?"

"You're in as much shit as she is, so I suggest you stop acting like a suck up."

"Whatever," he exhaled, leaning back in the chair beside you in defeat. That plan of his was as good as dead the moment he opened his mouth.

Her phone started ringing. She trudged to it angrily before muttering another curse.

"Children. Both of you," she mumbled underneath her breath, walking to the corner of the room to take it. Her murdering voice turned sweet and melodious like honey, switching from agentzilla to her normal tone.

The quiet was swallowing. Almost suffocating. Until Naozumi opened his mouth to speak again.

"You were good out there," he spoke gruffly, voice coming out barely above a mumble. As if he was thinking the words over, not just before, but even after he let them out. They still surprised you nonetheless.

"I'm sorry what?" you choked out.

"I said you were good out there."

"The great Naozumi Hiyama recognizes my talents?"

"I take it back."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't. Because I already have my ego up in the fucking sky."

He smiled. A small barely tilt of his lips, not in amusement, teasing, or provocation, but in genuine show of merriment. Strange.

Once he realized his mistake and caught you looking at him wide-eyed like he was some rare exhibit in a museum, he went back to the gloomy, pissed off jerk mask he had going on. Just as fast as it appeared, the smile was completely gone. Like it was never there. And you had a sudden want to see it again. It was too late to realise you voiced it out.

"Wait. Was that a smile?"

"Do you need an eye test or something?"

"I'm pretty sure that's called a smile."

"I don't smile," he scoffed.

He said the word like it made him disgusted to even be able to reproduce such a thing. Like he wasn't built for genuine cheer. Clowns weren't built for smiling. People were. There was a huge difference between those.

He was human after all. He smiles. When he's caught off guard by words rather than actions, apparently. Interesting.

"Sure you don't," you smirked.

"Rai, leave him alone," grumbled Kate from the other side of the room.

"He started."

He huffed annoyed at your antics and having to be tortured this early in the morning by your PR agent of all people. You smiled again happy with his predicament, and the fact that you weren't alone on this. There was a small part of you that got satisfaction from seeing him in trouble. But now that his trouble was yours too, you kind of equaled the opening score.

"Okay," exhaled Kate, turning back to you with less stress and more anguish judging by the way her eye twitched.

"So, we can't do anything for now but let them talk until they catch new gossip somewhere else. Which should be soon enough. That means," she turned to you with an icy glare, "no more illegal racing."

"For now or?"

"Indefinite."

"Negotiable?"

"Non."

"Well that's a bummer," you huffed, sulking back in your seat.

"Same to you Naozumi. I'm saying this as friendly advice," she says, her gaze turning softer. "Your PR team is already under enough stress as is. Do them a favour and lay low for a while. It will do you good as well."

"They're being paid to help me. Not the other way around."

From the way she frowned at him, you could tell she held back on yelling expletives at him that would get her fired if they ever reached higher-ups. She tightened her fists instead, trying to calm herself down. Then she grinned wide and your stomach dropped. The sky usually splits open when she wears that heinous grin.

"Oh, and one more thing. The federation called."

The federation called? For this? That can't be good.

"They don't like associating themselves with drivers who like getting into trouble. What you did last night won't affect your participation in the series. But they'll be preparing a suiting punishment soon."

"What kind of punishment?"

"The kind I'm sure you'll both hate with your guts."

"Is that all or do you have more nonsense to lecture me about?" asked Naozumi, clearly irritated that he was held accountable for once. And that he hasn't been allowed to leave yet. You wondered why he didn't just up and leave and sat here until now.

"You can go," she nodded at him with a sigh, the one filled with empathy reserved for lost causes. Like Tanaka.

"And me?" you piped up.

You were edging to just go back home and forget all of this even happened. And brainstorming what the board classified as suitable enough punishment. But from Kate's light snicker, you weren't off the hook yet. Far from it actually.

"Your lecture isn't over," she said.

"Bye rookie."

Naozumi flashed you a smile and a finger wave then he slid out the door. Before the door shut tight, concealing his existence, it creaked open and he peaked his head back in, filling the room with more dread.

"Nice pants by the way."

You looked down at your pants, met with the little McQueen cars. You were in your pyjama pants. Again. Fuck's sake. You shifted your gaze back at him, flipping him off without a wink of hesitation.

"Naozumi, please leave before I get security to kick you out," begged Kate.

And he did. Laughing his ass off down the hallways at your expense.

"Why does he get a pass from the lecture?"

"Because he's probably heard it enough to puke it. Though I doubt any of it actually reached his ears and stayed in his brain for long," she spoke, looking at the door with another frown for the man.

"But I know you actually regret your actions and want to do good by them," she stated. Prowling around the table to take Naozumi's seat, her serious gaze turned eager. "And I wanna hear the gossip."

"Of course you do," you laughed. "I'm going to need a coffee to go with that."

She reached behind you to the silver refreshment trolley you failed to notice, and grabbed two steaming cups from the top, placing one in front of you.

"Tell me he didn't spit in it or something."

"Nope. He just stared at it blankly, silently hoping I would offer it."

"Atta girl," you high fived her.

"Now tell me everything."

Sleep pulled you in the second you hit the pillow. You've sat in the office for most of the day just chatting with Kate, then being given the mother of all lectures on earth. Only she could reprimand you then seek gossip, doing a full personality 360 between angry, concerned and friendly. If you ever ended up like that, you'd made a promise to reset your brain setup yourself.

It would've been nice to be left alone to finally get real sleep since you had some time off-season now, but for the second time in a row today, someone had other plans for you.

The buzzing coming from your nightstand stirred you wide awake with less than nice wishes for the person disturbing you. Turning on your other side, you ignored it and plunged your head deeper into the plush of your pillow, sighing in delight. Little by little, you were pulled under by the remnants of sleep edging you all day. Fluffy, much needed rest.

Your phone buzzed again. And again. And again, begging to be answered.

Ah, for dear fuck's sake.

Throwing a hand behind, you searched into the air for your phone, hitting a lamp and the headboard before your fingers finally found the hellish device. Craning an eye open to make sure you hit the right button, you answered, pulling it hazily to your ear.

"Who's this?" you asked, way more raspier and annoyed than you intended it to come off.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," chuckled an eerily cheerful voice on the other end. "Or should I say good evening?"

"Akira?" you pulled back to look at the time on your phone. "It's nine. Why are you awake right now?" you groaned, flipping on your back.

"Why are you asleep right now?"

Fair point.

"What's up?" you asked, trying to stifle a yawn.

"I'm going out and I wondered if you wanted to come with. If you, I don't know, maybe wanted to hang out?"

That's sweet.

"Where?"

"It's a surprise. That is if you're willing to come. Are you?"

For someone that loved female attention and flirting with his fans, he sure was adorable at trying to make actual conversation with one. That and you were kind of nodding off to the sound of his sweet voice filling your ears like candy.

Your head fell deeper into the pillows, finding a comfortable spot you've searched for all of last night. A light snore went past your lips at which he chuckled.

"Rai? Are you still on the line?"

"Hmm. Yeah. Okay. I'll come with. When?"

"How fast can you get ready?"

"Give me thirty minutes. Where do I meet you?"

"Downtown Shibuya."

"Okay."

"Cool, I'll send you the location."

"Cool."

Hanging up, you closed your eyes again, way too on the edge of falling back to dreamland. Then an alarming thought rang out loud in your head.

Downtown?

That made you sit up fully awake in bed. Your hair was a wreck. You definitely needed a shower and to find something in your heaps of luggage still unpacked on the floor.

Thirty minutes was nearly not enough. But it'll have to do now.

Thirty minutes later and you reached downtown. The only problem was that you couldn't park anywhere. Maybe taking the subway would've been better.

Reaching the location Akira pinged you, you pulled over on the sidewalk, waiting for him to show up.

You watched the crowds gather and disperse on the famed center sidewalks spreading out in various directions, each pedestrian heading somewhere different.

For a moment, you wondered what kind of lives these strangers led. What hopes and dreams for the future they had. For one moment they were here, in the heart of the never sleeping city doused in neon lights, present and thoughtless. Only they would know what the next moment had prepared for them.

Racing towards the finish line for most of your life, you had to expect the unforeseen quite a lot. So it was interesting to see other people race towards other things, less life-threatening and more life-involved.

The radio changed the pop tunes for a catchier one that had your head bopping instantly on the first note. You turned up the volume, tapping your fingers on the wheel to the rhythmic beat. This would work so well with my new mix. You tried to turn it up a little louder but your speakers refused to play past mid-level.

Stupid speakers. I need to change this system ASAP. It's older than my dad.

About to curse the downsides of your old sound system, you were interrupted by a soft knock to your left. A strip of what looked like soft pineapple cake was the first thing you saw in the window. Then Akira's head popped down, holding his other hand under the dessert as if he was advertising to become someone's son in law and spread happiness. With a laugh at the faces he was pulling, you unlocked the door and let him in.

"God, it's so nice and warm in here," he sighed, relaxing into the seat beside you. He handed you the bag of desserts so he could stretch out and warm his hands against the warm air blower.

"Wasn't my idea to be out at this hour. It's cold as fuck still."

"If you don't want the cakes, give them back," he said, holding his hand out for the bag.

You hugged them closer to your chest. "They're mine now."

"All of them?"

"Mhm. You made me come all the way here on a Monday. I deserve a double treat."

There were a bunch of those little cakes stuffed into the paper bag and you weren't feeling the sharing is caring tradition today. But his lips drew in a pout, sulking in the seat like he was melting away into sadness and you had to give in. He bought them after all.

"Fine. You can have one."

"Why, thank you!"

You laughed at his antics, chucking one of the street delicacies in your mouth, dropping the bag in his lap. Turning the key in the ignition, you started the engine then turned to him.

"Okay, where to? I should drive off before I get a parking ticket."

"You know that arcade that just opened?"

"The one in Shinjuku?"

He nodded, buckling himself in. Destination acquired, you stepped on it taking off for the arcade. You whizzed past the busy streets of Shibuya, driving through the packed traffic lanes and the flickering billboards. Your eyes drifted to some of the lightshows in awe even if you've seen them so many times. You've been in this city forever but it still managed to surprise you. Even Akira glanced out the window with a twinkle in his eyes.

"So, how have you been?"

"We literally saw each other last night," you chuckled. "Did you miss me that much?"

"What if I did go into loneliness without your presence?"

Smooth.

"I'm asking more because I saw the headlines."

Damn press.

"I take it not so good?"

You let out a breath you've been holding for a while, adjusting your hand on the wheel to lean your arm on the window. Coming to a red light, you turned to him to pluck another cake out of the bag.

"It's okay. I got a pretty good lecture about the importance of driving exemplarily and the safety of my PR agent's mental wellbeing if last night were to ever happen again. And the federation heard of it. There's some supreme punishment coming my way apparently. Same for Naozumi. But I'm glad we didn't get other, more severe reprimands like being banned from the next race."

"Damn, that must've been harsh," he frowned in sympathy. "But you can still race, right?"

"Yup," you popped the p at the end. "Just not illegally," you smiled meekly, feeling bad for your little side hobby having to come to an end.

"That's not so bad then."

Tugging out another cake, you gobbled it down halfway, letting it melt in your mouth. The tangy sweet taste lifted your mood instantly. Then you recalled something that made you chew a little slower. You gave Akira a long look.

"You know these things are given as wedding gifts in other countries?" you asked upon remembering the custom.

"Yes," he replied. "But they're also symbolic of luck. Like mooncakes. Thought you could use some."

Aw. He got you lucky charms. Damn delicious ones at that.

See, if they wanted to they would. But what did Akira want?

That was another question you hackled up in your big question backpack that was slowly starting to weigh down on your shoulders. That thing was widening by the hour and the week barely started.

Taking the easier route, you drove around town letting him bask in the vivid glow of Tokyo. He looked right at home here, among all the lights and glamour. You could take the man out of Tokyo but you definitely couldn't take it out of him.

By the time you parked, the whole bag of pineapple cakes was devoured. Not one crumb was left. You fought over the last one, ending up splitting it into halves just like your sandwich the week before. You noticed Akira had a thing for sharing stuff. On that note, you realized you didn't know much about him personally, so you made it your objective to find out more tonight.

Paying for your entrance to the arcade, amazement took over you at how big the place was. There were claw machines with hundreds, maybe thousands of plushies and figurines everywhere your eyes jumped. Video games lined up the walls, making all kinds of congratulatory sounds for winners or playing jingles to lure in players.

Even further in, bowling alleys, basketball courts, table tennis and a bunch of other mini games were plastered in their own corners like a small arena of sorts. You didn't even know what to play on first. However, Akira took the lead, running over to the whack-a-mole corner.

"Ladies first," he beckoned you ahead.

"Wanna test out my reaction time or something?"

"Winner gets to pick the next game," he said, holding a hand out to you.

"Deal," you shook it well.

Let's make this fun.

Pulling up your jacket sleeves, you grabbed the hammer and waited for the game to start. The moles started moving up and down, slowly at first, and you smacked all of them pretty easily. The speed increased and the little creatures popped out faster, making it harder to spot them properly. Thanks to your trained sight as a rally driver, you were able to spot them before they even came out of their hideout, much like corners or road hazards, and smacked them right down in their holes.

Your score rose and rose, and Akira's jaw dropped once it went past 600 points and you kept going at it. You didn't even break a sweat, just hammering down those little fuckers like it was a national sport. Getting tired, you paused when the hammer missed a mole. The machine beeped, showing you the score - 900 points. Close enough to the highest score you could get.

"Your turn," you smirked, handing Akira the hammer. "Ganbare," you cheered punching the air, trying to sound like his fangirls.

His hand shook slightly when he took the hammer away from your hand, flashing you a confident smile before he turned his back to you and cursed himself. He was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed.

The game blared loudly with a countdown before he could back out. He already shook hands with you. He had to take it to the bitter end without making a fool out of himself while at it. Tuning in his focus to catch those beasts and win, he approached the table. The machine beeped and he got in position.

The first moles jumped out at him and he hit the hammer nice and easy. Then it went faster and faster and he smashed the animals at the speed of light. Beads of sweat lined up above his brow, eyes strained and focused completely on the game and nothing else, determined to at least equal your score if he couldn't surpass it.

His smacks turned messy, all over the place. He heaved breaths like he was running a marathon, completely losing himself in the game. You were sat on the side, watching and trying to keep your giggles to yourself not to disturb him from his run.

He tired out at one point, unable to take any other moles for points, missing a few. The machine beeped and he looked confident in his efforts. Before he looked at the score, he turned to you with a grin, holding his arms out in a victorious manner.

"How did I do?" he asked, wiggling his brows.

Your resolve came crumbling as one by one, your giggles slipped out and you had to clutch your stomach from how hard you were laughing.

"Take- Hahahah," you laughed, wiping a tear. "Take a look at the score. I can't."

You continued laughing as he swiveled around to take a look, eyebrows hitting his hairline.

"WHAT?! THREE FIFTY?!"

350 points. That's all he managed to get. Not even close to your score. So damn far away. But the show he gave you was priceless.

"I'm so glad I got that on camera," you beamed, pocketing your phone and the evidence away with it.

"We're not friends anymore," he says, feigning betrayal. "Who are you?"

"The winner," you giggled making a curtsy. Leaning over to grab his arm, you pulled him along with you. "Now it's my pick."

You weaved through the crowd of players, looking around for a better attraction. Most of them were medium or beginner level, boring or just too bright for your eyes, so you searched for something better. Something that would be fun and you haven't played before to give Akira a chance to redeem himself.

Somewhere between pushing ahead and tugging him behind you, your hand slipped into his to pull him through the huge crowd without getting lost. At first he didn't notice it, too busy keeping his balance as you monster trucked your way through people. When his eyes drifted down to see your hands intertwined deftly, a small smile made its way to his lips. You didn't really notice the skinship, too busy whirling your head around. Then you spotted the perfect game.

Running up to the start line, you pointed at it like a little child who just found a new curiosity. Your eyes sparkled bright as you gazed back at him and his smile widened even more.

"Bowling?" he asked.

"I haven't played before," you admitted.

Truthfully, you didn't get a lot of time to play around growing up. The few games you played were all mostly car related. Wheelies, car bumpers, racing simulators. Whenever your friends from school went out, you'd be stuck helping in the garage or driving out of the city for a junior qualifier.

"Let's see if you've got it in you."

Barely two rounds in and you scored only full strikes, one after another. Angling your hand the way you saw them do in the movies, you pulled your wrist back, then pushed it forwards and let go sending the ball straight in, watching all the pins fall down. Turning to Akira, you caught him filming in hopes you would fail this time around only to prove him wrong again. Enthusiastic about your strike, you threw the camera a peace sign, making a weird face he laughed at.

You played ten rounds, totaling more points than him at the end. Most of his were misses, bowling ball narrowly sent down the middle of the track, only to wiggle off into the side lines or miss half of the pins. He looked close to whining. You pat him on the back in support.

Moving around to basketball, you threw in a few hoops. That's where Akira finally managed to catch up, evening the score to a tie. You let him pick the next one, ending up on the mini baseball pitches for a slow game.

The machine shot balls at you and you hit them all. With each swing of your bat, they hit the wall, bouncing back on the artificial grass before another flew your way. Akira did the same on your side. Just hitting them mindlessly, waiting for the next one to fly out.

Your hits got progressively more swift and powerful. Who could blame you when had some pent up anger to release? About what or whom, you couldn't really tell. But this was a good outlet for it.

Akira stopped his own run to watch you hit the balls with no mercy. As if they could fly far away along with your thoughts if you hit them hard enough. Your face was contorted into rage, brows drawn in concentration, nose twitching when you didn't like how the balls rounded off the bat.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you grunted, hitting another one.

"Is this about the race?"

"More or less."

Another ball flew at you and you angled up the bat too late, missing the hit by a hair's breadth. He took a seat on the bench, placing his hands on the end of the bat and his chin on top.

"Something tells me that's not why you're upset."

"I'm not," you tapped the bat to the floor, preparing for the next hit.

"Rai, I say this with the best intentions. I've known you for a few days and I can tell when your mood drops to the sewers."

"I'm not upset," you sighed. "I'm just trying to realize that I'm officially a rally driver and I have to carry the team flag and support my family and not fuck up somewhere in the middle," you said, throwing a hand through your hair. "Long story short, I guess shit just got real. And I really hate Mondays now."

You had a long day and an even longer weekend. Stuff was about to crowd up like a pile of unwashed dishes until you were ready to face and wash each of them. You weren't running away from them. You just washed a lot of them this past week alone.

"Remember the day we met, when I asked you if you're doing all this for your father or for yourself?" You nodded slowly. "If you could be anything other than a rally driver what would you be?"

A dj, a voice sang in your head.

Something you developed for years alongside racing was your passion for all things music - instruments, lyrics, beats. It just fell hand in hand with racing and helped you tune the two into one seamlessly. Ever since, you couldn't have one without the other and choosing between them was a no-go. But little by little, you did have to give up on the dj dream since rally took up most of your time. There was no time to play or write or mix things unless it was once in a blue moon.

It was purely for your own enjoyment. Up until the car show, when you stepped up to the mixer and passed him your own mix. It was the first time you had people listen to something you made and gods, it made you feel good.

Telling someone all about it was what you deeply wished for. To yell at the top of your lungs that you had a passion you still kept close to your heart that you wish you could get to more. But the most you could muster in response to Akira's question was a small smile.

No one needs to know about it. It's just my little secret.

"Just racing," you passed over the obvious. Which was a passion but it now became a job you hoped would never feel like a job. "It doesn't matter what series as long as I get to drive. What about you?"

He sat thinking for a bit. He looked conflicted, not like he didn't know what to say, but more like he imagined what you would think of it once it actually left his mouth.

"Would it be weird if I said fashion?"

Now, that wasn't such a novelty to hear when Akira did have a keen eye for fashion. Despite the fact that he looked like a supermodel in just his dirty racing suit, he could pull off even a tote bag over his head as a hat and you'd think it was the next trend. His face alone could sell you anything.

"Not at all." You sat down next to him, fiddling with a spare ball. "What do you want to do specifically?"

"I was thinking design. There's this course I found on it and I'd love to take it up. I just don't know if I have it in me, I guess."

The way his eyes glimmered, you could tell he had insane passion for it. It wasn't a question of whether he had it in him. It was a question on whether he should do it.

"I think you'd make an amazing designer," you encouraged. "You do have great style. Though I'm not one to comment since I dress like a homeless person 24/7."

"I love your band tees," he said, pointing to the one you were wearing. It was a washed grey Nirvana tee. One you liked a lot. "They're edgy and classic. Like you."

"Thanks," you chuckled.

"Something tells me you have a collection of those."

"I do in fact."

"I take it back. That's not edgy. That's totally an emo crime towards fashion."

"Oh, come on. Not my fault they're on sale in bulk. What's so wrong about having them in different colours and designs?"

"Those prints are the very death of fashion."

"No, they're not," you argued, throwing the ball at him.

You left the arcade, continuing your argument about graphic tees and how they're the end of fashion and barely in trend anymore. Distracted by the sweet smell of dough, you took off after the scent like a dog, ending up in front of a vendor selling melonpan ice cream. You bought two before Akira could pull out his wallet. When he still barged in with money, you shoved his hand away, insisting that you wanted it to be your treat and he just had to give in to that.

Taking a walk around, you fell into step side by side. He bit into his mango one, looking around like a curious kid. This was as good a time as any to ask things, questions. You started off with your favorites - the family questions. His parents were into finance, mostly gone from home. Apparently, he had an older sister but she was gone overseas to work. Probably where he learned how to share his stuff from.

Jumping over other topics, you ended up on curious land.

"So," you gobbled down a bite from your melonpan. "What happened between you and Naozumi?"

His eyes widened a little, then fell back into serious crescents. Maybe that wasn't the question to ask right off the bat. He didn't look thrilled to be talking about that of all things and you instantly regretted asking.

"It's complicated," he said, playing with the paper packaging of his melonpan.

"It's okay if you don't wanna talk about it."

"It's stupid really," he started, bobbing his head down to the pavement. Spotting a bench, he took a seat and you joined.

"Last year, we were both competing for the Australian Cup. I was freshly brought into Sigma Racing as new talent. He's been under Spica for a few years already."

"It happened during one of the middle rounds. Really dry ground, loaded with road hazards and high jumps stressing the suspensions. That thing could turn your car into a death trap. The last turn at the end of the track had a big slope that went up then slid down, curving the exit right in front of the pit zone. I was driving so well until I took up that last turn."

"What happened?"

"I was going way too fast and those lumps on the road didn't make driving any easier. I kinda lost control," he sighed, closing his eyes as if it was happening right before him again. "I tried to steer clear of anyone but I ended up jumping right in front of the Spica Racing pen, just when he was driving out to take his place at the start of the course. I crashed into him and mangled his car pretty badly. He had to pull out of the round completely since it had irreparable damage."

Regret swam behind those black eyes of his, consuming the very light bouncing off the all the signs plastered around the place. You could tell the whole situation has been eating at him for a while.

"It wasn't your fault, Akira. Those things happen without you being able to do anything about it. We're trained to expect the unexpected."

"I know. Thing is, I tried to apologize right after but we got into a fight. We... said some things. I don't even remember what it was but I know he got really mad at me and has been driving the Akira hate train ever since like I committed some crime against him."

Something told you there were gaps waiting to be filled in that confession. You couldn't say you knew Naozumi just after a few days of events. But from your fights and teasing, you did catch up on the fact that it took a mighty spark leaping in the air to start Naozumi's reasoning storm and have it weather towards someone in a certain way. The way it weathered towards Akira said there was something else there.

Truthfully, he had the right to be mad. You would've been too if that was you mid-season, especially if your team was still struggling like it was now. But Akira tried to make amends that ended up right in the bottomless pit of Naozumi's endless hatred. That told you enough about him as a person. Recognizing your wrongs and trying to do right by them is a quality less and less people have these days. Much less Naozumi.

Although, now that you finally heard the story that began their relentless hate matches on track, a part of you was itching to know where Naozumi stood on this. Apart from the clear threat he made in the press conference that you happened to overhear. Aside from what the world said about their feud.

You wondered if his dislike towards Akira was just because of that incident or there was more to it. There's always a cause and effect and it took more than an accidental crash to have someone like Naozumi declare sudden death to someone.

Making small talk with Akira was becoming your favorite thing. You could talk about anything with the guy. Absolutely anything. He was like a walking-talking encyclopedia of sorts, just waiting to be flipped through and asked a 'did you know' question.

You wanted to take his mind off things since he's done that for you tonight. From the smile turning his eyes into crescents as you drove him around town, you managed to do just that.

"Where have you been until now?" he asked, turning to you with a light grin.

Your own simply caught the tip of your lips. "Right here in this city."

"Crazy we've never met before all this."

"Maybe we did, but we didn't know it at the time."

"Plausible," he laughs. "But I'm sure I would remember someone like you."

Flutters started in your tummy and made their way up through your body, blooming in your chest. No one's said these things to you before. If it was anyone else, you'd think it was just charmspeak to woo you. He did use it with his fangirls. But this felt... different. Or maybe you were just making up feels on the nice high that tonight brought you.

"Surely," you said, trying not to cut his flair short.

Turning the wheel down the street, you reached the downtown apartment complex area. You dipped your head down to look at the tall skyscrapers lining up to each other in similar grey tones. Mostly Tv personalities, movie starlets and other celebrities lived in this part of town. And Akira apparently.

How much do they pay at Sigma Racing? An apartment here is worth more than a normal racing salary. But... maybe it's not his and he's just visiting someone.

You stopped the car on a curved driveway right in front of his building. It looked reserved for limousines and fancy cars.

"I'm glad you came tonight."

"I enjoyed it. You know, that was my first time in an arcade," you confessed. He gasped in shock.

"What?! Really? It didn't look like it as you were beating my ass at every game I thought I was good at. You looked like a pro out there."

"Thank you," you smiled sheepishly.

"You know, that means I should take you out more."

"Is it really taking me out if I'm the one driving?" you cocked an eyebrow.

"Good point," he admits with a chuckle.

Turning for the door handle, he got ready to get out of your car and end the night. You didn't really want it to end. Not after how much fun you had together - real fun that you haven't had in a long time.

You felt like saying something before he left. The words sat right on the tip of your tongue.

He plucked open the handle, setting a foot out and you finally spoke.

"I had fun tonight," you said breathlessly. "Thank you, Akira."

You leant over the gearbox, placing a small kiss to his cheek. Probably the most unexpected thing you did tonight.

You drew away so fast you got whiplash. He seemed frozen to the seat. Much more frozen than the cold breezing in the car through the small crack in the open door.

Blinking the haze away, he got out of the car and was about to shut the door when he bent back down, holding onto the the top of the car.

"Good night, Rai. Thanks for hanging out again."

"Anytime," you smiled and waved at him. "Good night, three-fifty."

He shook his head with a wrinkle of his nose, embarrassed at the new nickname that's probably going to follow him for a while. You watched him retreat into the huge building, disappearing behind the double doors.

Once he was through, he barely reached reception as realization dawned on him. His palm held the cheek you kissed just a few minutes ago like your lips were still pressed against it. He broke out into the biggest, goofy smile. Turning back to the entrance, he saw your car still in front of the building.

Just as you were about to drive off, you caught your reflection in the rearview mirror. A shy smile and pink cheeks painted your face like a spring flower bouquet.

Wait. Wait. WAIT! you gasped.

Was this... Was this a date?

It wasn't, right? you giggled. He would've said something if it was, more giggles came out turning into a dry laugh. Right?

Then why the hell did I kiss him?

I KISSED HIS CHEEK????

WHY?

You dropped your head to the steering wheel accidentally blaring the horns and the very life out of you. People walking around the entrance, including the security guy, gave you a weird look. That was your cue to leave.

You slapped your cheeks before you stepped on it and drove home thinking about your life choices since they were starting to go against your norms. Badly.

Inter-season preparation was both the best and the worst period of time.

Rally weekends definitely fell in the best category. The pure adrenaline, the suspense, driving the car on new adventures. Celebrating milestones you wanted to overtake and adding new goals to challenge. The stuff dreams were made of - progress, setbacks, then more progress.

The weeks in between rallying? An absolute drag.

Testing. Training. Repeat. A truly never-ending saga.

Testing went pretty uneventfully. The team changed set-ups that were more Fuji round appropriate and you drove the car on similar dirt roads to see whether they worked or new changes had to be made.

The car surprisingly took all the changes well, better than in pre-season testing. Your team mechanics, not so much. They were under insane pressure to deliver accurate measurements and quick part changes since this round allowed settings and parts to be changed mid-stages.

You drove out in mock lap times on similar dirt roads, then returned to base so they could take over under a timed count. All the measurements and estimates made were just possibilities since you couldn't tell how the car would behave on the real ones. There was also the variable of weather conditions and considering the zone of rally, anything was possible.

Training, however, was a bitch. Biking, swimming, running miles on end to get better stamina. Then rough sport went into soft sport. Some type of fitness, like yoga or pilates, to get your body in better shape to handle the forces pushing you around in the car on track.

Tanaka liked changing it up a notch, picking a different pair of sports every other day. The days in between you just slept away like the dead to replenish your energy.

You were currently two weeks away from the next round. Tanaka decided to take it easier on you and took you on a hike around the hills surrounding Tokyo. The view was breathtaking, the city spreading out like a map from the point you reached. But so was the hike.

Your knees gave out, thankfully next to a good enough sitting boulder, unable to carry your body anymore.

"Break," you gasped out. "I need a break," your hands flailed about to ask for a timeout.

"Break approved," voiced Tanaka, stretching his limbs like he was taking a stroll in the park. Sometimes you wondered if he was human.

"Can we go to a normal gym in town? I think I've hiked all the hills around Tokyo by now," you asked, hoping he would accept.

Throwing a look over your tired body, he seemed to be considering it. The old man knew how much you despised this back and forth. He tried to expose you to as much sport as possible to get your body stronger, but above that, he valued your feedback. That was what made him one of the best trainers out there. If you needed a change, he had to accommodate it and he would.

"We can," he laughed slyly.

Wait, it's that easy? I just had to ask? No side deals or anything?

If that's the case then, you could've had less pain and more rest if you spoke your mind more often. Noted.

Besides, he seemed way too in good moods lately. Was it because of something or someone?

"I have a question," you piped up. "Actually several."

"Shoot," he took a seat next to you, chugging some water down.

"What's going on between you and Kate?"

He spit out his water, choking on some of it that remained stuck in his throat. You slapped his back in support with a chuckle.

"Nothing," he looked away, still coughing.

"Nothing my ass. I've seen the way you drink each other in with just one look. That's not nothing. That's everything."

He stopped coughing, wiping the water drops still falling from his chin with the collar of his sports shirt. His eyes looked out at the city, getting lost in all the shapes and buildings. After a while, a small smile settled on his lips, lightening up that serious stubble on his chin.

"Come on, humor me," you bumped your shoulder into his. "I won't tell."

"She's just," he paused thinking deeply. "Amazing," he said breathlessly.

As if that simple word rounded up every single thing he felt about her. Just that it couldn't and you could see it on his face.

Not just now, but in the pen or in the team office when they would pass by each other. He would send a soft gaze her way, eyes rounding and pupils dilating like he was looking at literal gold. In response, Kate would send him a sweet smile, the kind that probably had her twirling her stray caramel lock of hair falling out from her messy bun once she passed by and was out of sight.

He continued his rant on all the things he loves about her and you couldn't help but feel incredibly single for the first time in your life.

"I've never seen anyone stand up to men like she does. Well, you do. But the way she does it is just so inspiring. It makes me want to shake all men on earth until they get their balls twisted and never speak to a woman ever again. Especially her."

You could feel the adoration he had for her just ooze from him like it was suffocating exhaust smoke. Okay, maybe more like cotton candy steam. Sugary and sweet. The kind that sticks your teeth together in decay. But adorable nonetheless.

"Have you told her how you feel about her?"

"Nope. That's a bridge I'm not going to cross anytime soon, Rai."

"And why not?"

"The age difference. The world we live in. She's a solid independent woman, while I'm just me."

All reasons that made no sense.

Firstly, love had no age. And it wasn't like he was a seventy year-old dating someone four decades younger than him. He was barely thirty seven and you knew for a fact that Kate liked older men. All her recent dating experiences with men in her age range ended up in tragic ghosting and her deleting all dating apps as if it would delete her memory of them.

Secondly, the world we live in is crazy. But not that batshit crazy that a trainer and a PR agent weren't allowed to date. Last time you checked, your father didn't say anywhere in the rules that his employees were working under a no dating clause. Even if there was such a clause, you'd have him delete it from all records instantly.

Thirdly-

"You are an amazing trainer, co-driver and supporter. You're like an uncle to me and I wouldn't change it for the world. Besides all of that, you have amazing work ethic. You're not that ancient."

At that last remark, you tilted your head to the side thinking something else would've sounded better, then shook it off, continuing.

"If anything you fit the criteria of what she's looking for."

"Still not gonna happen," he says, shaking his head, smile now gone from his face.

"Well, if it ever will, you have my full support. Probably dad's too."

"Thanks," he chuckled.

Your hand laid out to pat his shoulder again in a manly way.

"I'll be your wingman anytime."

"I genuinely think your father thought you were a boy until you hit puberty and grew out that bowl cut of yours."

"That's what mom keeps telling me. I think there's a good amount of manliness in me, don't you think?" you wiggled your eyebrows, pumping up your bicep muscles to cement that point even though he was referring to your personality.

"Sure," he shook his head at you.

The days were getting warmer with April fast approaching. The sun was unbearable to sit under, but covered by the dense evergreen forest like this, it felt like pure bliss was radiating in the air.

"A day will come when a poor bastard will charm you and you'll see how it feels on your own skin."

You were taken aback at that.

"Why do you say poor bastard?" you asked, brows drawing together.

"Oh, look at the time," he checked the watch on his wrist way too quickly. "We should hike back down."

"Don..." you hissed in warning but he was already walking hurriedly down the path you just climbed.

"Men love starting shit unprovoked," you mumbled to yourself before you took off after him.

Truthful to his words, Tanaka took you to a gym the very next day. Not just any gym but the very best in town, decked in a bunch of world class apparatus and gear that would put your impromptu garage gym to shame. And it did when he showed you pictures of it and how big it was.

The day came you finally tried it. You skipped running time for this and couldn't contain your excitement since you'd rather do gym time than run in the streets in this mini heatwave.

The building had parking available inside for easy access anytime you wanted to go. Taking the elevator, you let Tanaka press the buttons since he knew more about the place. The floors kept rising and rising and your jaw dropped once it passed the twentieth floor, unable to imagine a building having more than ten.

I'm on filthy rich territory, mom.

A lady dressed in fitness gear welcomed you warmly at reception, then showed you around some of the facilities. Apparently, they had several gyms on this floor, a pool somewhere on an upper level and other amenities that you could barely wrap your head around existing in just one place. She led you through the hallways, all decked in portraits of famous athletes that apparently worked out here from time to time. You recognized some baseball players and footballers, even your mom's favorite golf player.

This place is the hall of fame on earth.

She led you to the changing rooms, which were a bit of a let down. They looked like high school lockers and had team benches around like a stadium changing room would. Probably to let the athletes feel at home among all that shiny equipment.

You changed into more gym appropriate clothes and met Tanaka in the hallway, talking about the facilities.

"A friend recommended it to me. Apparently it's bigger than this, stretching beyond this level, and a lot of athletes used it before. It's also deserted during the night since most of them like working out during the early morning and book it to themselves."

That sounded amazing. Being able to work out and suffer through the pain without other onlookers around was a dream. You even got a killer view of the city lights in the dusk of the darkening night sky as you stepped over the threshold. It truly felt like a dream.

And it sure turned out too good to be true when you rounded the corner into the main gym and spotted a familiar tanned, ripped back under a lone light, dark hair dripping with sweat, pumping his biceps by lifting heavy weights in the far corner.

"I think we should come back later," you smiled nervously, turning back around and yanking Tanaka by his shirt.

Naozumi just so happened to spawn at the one gym you wanted to go to. Recommended to go to. But alas. He was here and now you were here too which wasn't good.

The last thing you wanted was to have a weight-lifting competition and end up breaking stuff over his head to shut his comments up. So you pulled on Tanaka's shirt a little harder to make him move out through the door before the devil saw you.

"What? Why?"

Naozumi sensed movement behind him. In one brisk move, he turned around and placed the weights back in place, throwing his towel on his shoulder before making his way to you.

At least he has a shirt on this time.

As he moved to you, your breath hitched.

If pre-sex interrupted Naozumi looked hot in the crack of a shabby hotel door, post-workout Naozumi with the backdrop of nightfall over Tokyo was a sight that made your knees weak against your will.

Shamelessly, your eyes lingered on the mountains of shoulders on his back and the sweat falling from his hair down his arms in rivers. Each lost drop fell in its own stream, connecting around the protruding veins on his forearms, turning a lively green in stark contrast to the tanned skin on his arms. Bulking, blue-green veins that looked so swollen you wondered if they would burst at the small tap of your finger or if he contracted the sinews on his forearms even a little.

Thank god for fast cars, desserts and muscles.

"Came to train, rookie?" he spoke lowly, that annoying amusement ebbed in his voice along something else you couldn't really decipher.

Stopping a few feet away, he let his own eyes linger over your work out gear. Most of it was tight, pulling your skin to soft curves he drank in with all his might like Tanaka wasn't next to you. As if it was just the two of you and no one else in the silence of the darkened gym.

"You look like you need it."

"Your car would say something different," you crossed your arms with a smirk. "Still driving around with a damaged front bumper?"

The muscle in his jaw ticked at the mention of his car damage, moving his weight from one foot to the other with a scoff. His tank top shifted with the movement, revealing more of that dip in his perfectly toned chest. Why was he even working out when he looked like that? You'd spend all day looking in the mirror if you had even one of those perfectly packed muscles. Just one.

Noticing the way your eyes locked on his chest, he took a gamble that you were more interested in something else than what he was saying. His hand rode up to take off the towel on his shoulder, letting it fall by his side. Your eyes flew to the other side of his uncovered collar bones, the dip between them and the trunk of his neck as soon as the cloth slipped off completely.

True to his assumptions, you were staring. And he enjoyed it a whole lot.

His arms crossed over his chest, bulging out the lean beef and those criminal veins lined up on his arms, also pushing up his pecs in the process. Unconsciously, you licked and tugged your lower lip between your teeth, unable to look away. Until he spoke and cut off the wire rolling fantasies in your head.

"Like what you're seeing?" he teased.

What a hoe.

"Your car in shambles?" you replied.

"I should've asked you to pay damages," he taunted, taking a step closer to you. His dark eyes moved down to you. "Since you're daddy's little princess and all."

"Why would I pay when I can literally fix it myself?"

His eyebrow lifted at that. You offered and he looked like he was genuinely considering it. That was bad news.

This is why we think before we speak.

That was not what I wanted to say. I can't help it when those pecs are staring at me, nipples fully perking under that tank top like traffic cones. Ugh, it's all his fault.

It was way too late to take it back now. You just had to accept the demise you very well and knowingly signed yourself verbally, loud and clear, with a witness by your side.

"Look," you sighed. "If you're still sour about it, come by the garage and I can have a look, for free," you muttered the last words in a mumble not sure if you should offer free services to him of all people.

"What was that last part?" he leaned in, asking you to repeat it knowing damn well he heard it.

"I said with a discount."

"I think you said for free."

"Money doesn't grow on the trees in my garden, Naozumi." You held your hand out to him. "Take it or leave it."

His brown eyes moved to your hand and flew back to yours just as fast.

"Turn around," he instructed.

"What-"

His eyes crinkled with a grin as his hands settled on your shoulders to turn you around. Once your back was to him, he plucked a marker and a piece of paper from Tanaka's hand, laying the paper flat on your shoulders. From the faint scribbles you felt on your back, he had to be jotting down his number. Once he was done, he passed the marker back to Tanaka and handed you the paper, folded neatly into tiny squares.

"Call me when you're free," he said, adding a teasing wink at the end. Then he smacked his towel back on his shoulder and left.

You opened the piece of paper to find... nothing. The fuck? You turned it around on all sides to find no trace of his number anywhere.

But he wrote something. I could literally feel it on my back-

Hold on a second.

Looking around for a mirror, you located some at the far edge of the gym and made a beeline for them. As soon as your feet planted in front of your full length reflection, you turned sideways and sure enough there it was - his phone number, digits and full name scribbled in dark marker along the width of your right shoulder.

"I'm going to fucking kill him."

"I would let you," agreed Tanaka. "But that means more PR disaster for Kate."

"Please tell me that isn't permanent marker," you huffed, licking a finger and trying to swap it off. The writing barely bunched off your skin.

"Semi-permanent," he chuckled.

"Nao-fucking-zumi Hi-trouble-yama, I will murder you one day and I won't be sorry," you gritted.

The last free weekend ahead of Fuji Highland Masters rolled in before you even felt the little break. You took the day to work a little on your jewel of a car since you didn't know when you would get the chance to even drive it to and fro in the coming months as it was mostly back to back rally rounds.

The schedule for the day ran mostly on maintenance work. You changed your winter tyres for the summer ones since the weather was letting up and the roads weren't frozen over with icicles to slide over anymore. You dove under the car, checking the oil filter for any bursts or leaks, since you had enough adventures with that one, and the rest of your old parts, making a note of what needed changing.

Before you knew it, the breezy morning turned into scorching noon. Taking a break on the steps near the garage, you drank some water and leaned back, stretching your legs on the pavement. The peace and the calm was so bearable at times where your mind stilled and you were just in the zone, doing what you liked. Working on cars was your dad's guilty pleasure and it kinda rubbed off on you once you got one.

Then you remembered. It's been a few weeks and you haven't heard anything about the punishment from the board yet. You hoped they just forgot about your race with Naozumi like it was a blip.

But like clockwork whenever you thought of him in the slightest, his annoying voice popped up in your head with an irritating reminder.

Call me when you're free.

Unlocking your phone, you scrolled through the contacts until you reached Naozumi's designated name - Devil spawn.

Your finger hovered over the number. You barely typed it in back at the gym, gaping back and forth between the numbers strewn on your back without gagging. Having to actually call it was a different thing altogether.

What if he gave me a made-up number? What if it's someone else's?

Despite your efforts to avoid calling, you had to.

A promise is a promise, you sighed. But was it really a promise? Those have expiry dates, don't they?

In your mental debate on whether to call or just forget you ever offered your help, your finger moved down the screen and accidentally tapped the call button.

Well, too late to back out now...

The line rang a few times and your patience was running thin. Five rings in and you moved to end the call until someone picked up. Though it wasn't Naozumi. You knew that demonic voice up to no damn good anywhere and this was a high-pitched female one.

"Who's this?" asked the woman on the other line.

Definitely not Naozumi. Though you wondered if you happened to torture him if he was able to make those sounds. You just hoped you didn't interrupt another heated catch, like he called them. The last one left you with mental pain.

"Hello?" she asked again, tone seething with much more irritation this time around.

I think I cockblocked him again.

"Naozumi's mechanic on duty," you replied, not having time to think it through. You pulled the phone away from your your ear, muttering a quick fuck me, before you placed it back, embarrassed.

What the fuck? Mechanic on duty?

His?

Me?

I'm screwed.

"I think my mechanic is a male actually," spoke Naozumi with a deep chuckle. His voice reverberated off the speaker with an echo you knew all too well.

The fucker put me on speaker. Foul move.

"Do you want your car fixed today or not?"

"I was about to fix something else."

Oh god.

"I'm about to end this call in 5, 4, 3, 2-"

"Send me the address. I'll be there as soon as I can," he grunted on the other line.

"Enjoy," you said and cut the call.

Enjoy?

Jesus Christ, Raiko.

A few hours later, the small heatwave calmed down and you could work properly on your car. You busied yourself with installing a new stereo system since the old one lived its days from the front relics to the back ones. You were currently stuck between the seats, trying to couple the wires for the back parts and mount the new surround speakers in.

You heard Naozumi's R8 down the street before the car even pulled up on the garage driveway, right on the other side. That engine was purring louder than a cat in heat. It was hard not to notice it when it sounded so tuned and expensive.

Moving to get out from the back and greet him, you dropped back on your hunches to pull yourself out from the back area. Small problem though. Your waist got stuck between the seats. They weren't just uncomfortable. They were unbelievable.

I really need to change these seats.

Breathing in and out calmly, you moved again, trying to pull your body out but it was to no avail. No matter how many times you pivoted back and forth, you were stuck. Feeling eyes on you, you turned your gaze to the opened driver's door to be met with Naozumi's intense stare. The leather jacket hugged the crossed arms over his chest and his sunglasses sat on the V line of his shirt. His hair wasn't as messy as you expected it to be after that call. His was looking at you with unanswered questions.

How long has he been standing there? Was he staring at my ass?

"Hi," he waved. "Need help?" he nodded back at your little issue.

"Nope," you grunted out, waving him off. "I've got it."

Turning back to face the back of the car, you placed your hands on the shoulder rests and tried to pull yourself out again.

"Damn it," you mumbled.

"I can help," he mused again.

"No thanks."

He let you struggle for a bit more before you felt the seat cushion on your left side dip and strong hands falling on your waist. You sucked in a deep breath at the contact, stilling all movements completely.

"I said I've got it."

"I don't have all day," he said, moving closer to get a better grip on you.

His fingers moved, rapping against your sides and you felt your heart skip a beat. Leaning over you, his breath fanned your exposed back. You bit your lip and cursed yourself mutely for picking out the most revealing tank top in your wardrobe to wear today of all days. That and his secure hold on your waist, warming up your sides over the thin denim of your overalls was complete terror to bear.

"Twist sideways," he directed.

"Which side?"

"Mine."

"Yours?"

"Fuck," he exhaled, warm breath hitting close to your ear making you shiver. "I meant left. Left side."

Doing as he said, you twisted at the same time he tugged your middle through, pulling you free from the grasp of your stubborn old seats. You sat back on your hunches facing him, his hands still sitting around your waist. If he let you do it yourself, you'd probably be hanging in the backseat until the next day.

You took a moment to just look at him. You haven't seen him in weeks. Not even after you started going to the gym. You had to admit he looked kind of relaxed and this break did him some good to destress and calm his road rage.

The sun shone through the windshield, reflecting the orange glow of the car interior in a warm glow of light washing over him. You searched his eyes, finding nothing but a deep pool of shiny macadamia brown to melt in.

I thought his eyes were black. They're so brown in the light. So warm.

They reminded you of that insane macadamia tart doused in unhealthy amounts of syrup and chocolate. The one guilty pleasure dessert you could never put down.

He blinked at you and your eyes shot to his eyelashes.

Were they always this long and pretty?

Your hand had a mind of its own, lifting up towards him. Your fingers could almost graze the skin on his cheeks when you stopped yourself.

What the fuck am I doing?

At once, your other hand shot up slapping the guilty one away, that one too acting on its own, falling to find balance on your brake stick, accidentally pushing it down to disengage the breaks. The car started moving and jerked you forwards but it stopped before it could roll down the driveway, into the street and cause any damage. Naozumi's hand moved over yours to press the button and pull the lever back up, engaging the brakes back on the car. His other one held you safe from smashing into the windshield.

You closed your eyes, patiently waiting for the rookie comment. You just felt it coming, sitting right on the tip of his tongue. One long sigh from him and you saw it spelled out on his lips. Soon enough you even heard it.

"Are you always this clumsy, rookie?"

There it is.

You pushed him out of the car, getting out as well. Dusting up your clothes, you crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at him. He simply smirked at you.

"Shut up and show me the damage on the car."

Following behind in his step, he led you to the front of his supercar, pointing you to the lower right side. Crouching down, you inspected the scratch. Sure enough, there was a nasty graze there, but the bend you thought you saw that night was not there, possibly an illusion of the shadows. Less work to do then.

The scrape was big and stretched along the side, so it definitely needed a mini paint job, but nothing too complicated. You just hoped you had this shade laying around in a can somewhere in the garage.

"Dark midnight blue, right?

He nodded. You took off to the paint area, looking around all the cans on the shelves to make sure you had his color and he didn't come by for nothing. Azure, turquoise, dark blue, navy... Nope. You turned another shelving unit and scoured the labels like a hawk. Indigo, admiral... Pushed to the far back was a can turned backwards. Another dark blue shade peaked through. You reached and pulled it out. Midnight blue. There it is.

On your way out, you grabbed sand paper, a water spraying bottle, cutting compound, a coarse pad and the polish machine. You carried all of them back and sat down on the ground next to the car. Naozumi leaned on the door to watch you work.

First, you poured some water on the sand paper and sprayed some more along the grazes on the car. Gently, you sanded down each graze from left to tight, then wiped the surface with a cloth to soften it. The sanding removed some of the smaller lines, but the big ones were still nasty and wide. Spraying a few drops of cutting compound on the coarse pad, you attached it to the polish machine and started polishing over the scratches.

"How do you know so much about cars?"

"It's in the job description."

"That's not what I meant."

"You're bound to learn a thing or two when growing up in a garage full of mechanics. I spent most of my time in there as a child," you pointed back behind you. "And there's YouTube."

"That still doesn't explain anything," he scoffed.

You stopped the polish machine, turning to look up at him.

"The Veilside back there," you pointed out to the driveway. "She was a totaled wreck. One of the dupes used in the Tokyo Drift movie for stunts that ended up worse for wear."

"I was so obsessed with the car that I looked for used ones everywhere and just so happened to find her in a scrap yard, completely torn to pieces," you spoke as you added some more paste to the pad and went back to polishing the bumper.

"I saved up all my money to get the important parts she was missing. One month of pocket money got me the suspensions. Half a year later, I had enough to buy a V6 engine. The rest of it, I fixed her up with used parts from the garage until I could afford new ones. She was a work in progress for some time."

"And it ran?"

"Oh boy, it did," you smiled, working the machine on a deeper graze. "Dad called me crazy for trusting a relic that had no chance of getting fixed up or ever running the roads again. But look at her. She's doing amazing."

He seemed impressed as he took a good look at it. It genuinely seemed like a body to body replica to the one in the movie, just a little more updated. But not even the mods took away from it. Either way he looked at it, he couldn't find one side that looked the slightest bit uneven or a part that looked out of place as if the car has always been like this. Whole. Cared for.

Surprised by his silence, you glanced at him. He wore a look you haven't seen on his face yet akin to fascination of some sort.

"You seem impressed."

"Maybe I am. You're one interesting person," he said, glancing between you and the car once more.

Was that a compliment?

You flashed a small shy smile. Your driving was the one always getting complimented. Your mechanic side, not really. While the team encouraged it, your mother always threw a fit at seeing oil stains on your hands and face. Good thing she hasn't seen you after doing the oil change on the rally car. That would've been a sight.

"Thanks."

Moving to the lower lines drawing under the bumper, right in the front of the car, you repeated the polishing process trying to get as much of the grazes covered in the paste.

"Your tank here is not too bad either. Who did your mods?"

"I have a friend who does them on the other side of town. I could take you if you want to see his stuff."

"I'm good. But if I ever want to turn my car into a UFO, I might take you up on the offer."

He chuckled.

"And street races? Didn't know you were a rebel."

"You do a lot of shit that's uncalled for when you have a dad like mine."

"All of them in that thing?" he nodded to your car.

"All of them," you confirmed. "She's been by my side longer than anyone." You paused the machine. "That must make me look like a car freak."

"Not really. If anything, it tells me you're passionate about it."

What was it with him and compliments today?

"You seem passionate about other matters," you say, getting up to wipe your hands on a cloth.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he laughed.

The fact that you're boning every woman on a five mile radius.

"You're bedding a lot of women, your rally highness."

His laugh rumbled deeply at the nickname. Or the comment. You couldn't really tell which one perked his amusement more.

"Ah, that. Not passionate about it. It just helps get the steam off."

"Suuure."

"Is someone jealous?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, cowboy. That's a reach. We were on the passion topic."

"Women are not a passion to me. They're just..."

Toys? Something to pass the time with? Trophies?

"A distraction."

Hmm, that was a strange answer.

His whole behavior today was sort of odd. He was talkative, chatting away at anything you were asking. It felt like you could ask him the worst things and he would still answer. Or that might've been a reach. But something about his aura, that you couldn't quite figure out, was different. He seemed carefree. Really carefree.

His hair had a clear lack of gel. His clothes were mismatched in different shades of white, red and black but they worked. And he carried a lazy almost smile on his face. Close to smiling but keeping a safe distance from it.

A distraction. That piqued your curiosity sensor.

Just what was the great Naozumi Hiyama running from?

You would've asked just that. But you didn't have that kind of relationship with him. The one where you could just talk about anything, like you did with Akira. Well, you hid some things from him too, but that was besides the point. The point was that Naozumi was a closed off man who didn't like opening up even if he was held at gunpoint. He'd rather drown his feelings than talk about one honest idea passing through his brain at any given moment.

Clearing your throat, hoping that it would also clear the awkwardness, you changed the subject back to the car.

"I can cover it all with a little paint, but you'll have to leave it here overnight for the paint to dry."

"Okay."

Okay? No argument or flashing his money that he can take it somewhere else for somebody else to fix? He was okay with leaving his car here? In the enemy team garage? Is he sick or something?

"Okay," you said, drawing out the word.

"What?"

"Nothing. Was just wondering why you agreed so fast."

"You're doing it for free," he pointed out.

"With a discount," you deadpanned.

"Still better than going and getting the whole front bumper replaced," he stated with a shrug.

At least he knew the smart ways of life. Getting the whole bumper replaced would cost him way more. Especially on his model. But that wasn't why you were creeped out. What did creep you out was that he didn't seem like the Naozumi you fought with.

"I think it's the other way around," you said, getting up to face him.

"What?"

"You're the interesting person."

"Now, why would you say that?" he asked, waiting on you to elaborate.

"You shut off like a pearl in a shell when someone tries to talk to you about something that doesn't involve cars, racing or sex."

"Does that make me special?" he quirked a brow with that annoying smirk of his.

"No. It makes you shallow," you clarified.

"Maybe I have a reason to be like that."

He took one step closer, trying to appear intimidating but ending up looking more interested in your response to that.

"What could that possibly be?" you scoffed.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"No."

He closed the distance to you, pinning you to the side hood of his car. Your eyes flickered to the side upon his closeness. That gave him the answer he was looking for.

"You totally would," he smirked playfully. "Too bad I'm not for you, rookie."

The fuck is that supposed to mean? What are these riddles?

Me liking someone like him?

When cars could make coffee and pancakes mid-ride which was probably never.

He had a knack for misinterpreting things people said in his own words so they fit the really messed up narrative in his head.

"I never said I was interested in you. I just said you're an interesting person."

"Aren't those the same thing?"

Your mouth fell open. If that was the case, then him saying you're an interesting person meant that he was interested in you. But that was a joke. He just wanted to play with your head.

"They're not."

"Well then, explain the difference."

"What am I, your fourth grade teacher?"

Your mouth moved to ridicule him even more and he completely ignored every word as his eyes dove to your chin. A speck of dirt was on your face. Again. This one appeared to anger him.

He reached out and wiped it nicely this time without pulling it across your face. Satisfied that the grimy spot was gone, his fingers drove around to hold your chin. You had nowhere else to look but at him.

"You are something, rookie."

Something. What?

You must've voiced your thoughts out loud because he smirked down at you with that playful look in his eyes. The one that sent your insides into overdrive.

"A curiosity."

The very thing he was to you.

Maybe he wasn't that hard to decipher after all.

Taglist: @ellisaworld @howimeetyoukit @jonnelpunk @nadlx33333

Thank you for reading :)

[waterfire1848]

How’s it going @waterfire1848 ?

Got an Azutara idea for you, and I was wondering on your opinion. It is simply after all, just an idea or prompt if you will for your consideration. It is colloquially titled “Hearts of mine”.

So it’s a modern (no-bending) type au regarding Azutara. The story starts of in the immediate aftermath of Yon Ra’s murder of Kya. Katara and Azula would be around eight? I think that was Katara’s age during Black Snows in canon. Like in canon the snake slipped away before he was apprehended. Anyway, because she is awesome Kya had signed up to be an organ donor after she died.

It just so happened that Azula was born as a sickly child with an incurable heat disease. I’m no medical practitioner so I can’t accuracy state what condition this would be. In any case the doctors of the hospital Azula practically lived in for most of her early life (either in the Avatar world or an AU of our own) do not give Azula long left to live. She would need a full body heart transplant to up her chances and full recovery from her illness. Unfortunately, finding a match for Azula had proven… difficult for the hospital.

That is we’re Kya comes in. It is often that many organ donors in real life save a great many lives posthumously. Kya in her compassion is no different. Her heart is transplanted into Azula. Saving her life, and allowing Azula to live the life of a normal healthy child for the first time.

Azula also sends later an unsigned thank you letter to the Water family. Who were told of Kya’s decision but did not wish to be informed about who the exact individual it was that Kya’s heat was transplanted into. Perhaps out of sadness, perhaps out of anger.

Likewise these AU doctors do not inform Azula, or the rest of the Fire Family about the identity of the life saving organ donor (Kya). A confidentiality agreement existing to prevent an identity from being known. The doctors simply assured that the letter will get to the donors family.

A letter which Hakoda allows Katara to keep close to her.

Years later at the age of XVIII or so. Katara decides to attend a university in Republic City with Sokka and her friends (the Gaang in this case).

Katara could be I don’t know a marine biology or medical science major? And Azula maybe a history or law major?

There she makes the acquaintance of Azula and her friends and brother (Zuko, Mai, and Ty Lee). While an attraction exist (though the two both vehemently deny it) between Azula and Katara from the start, so does a rivalry of sorts.

Whether it is academic or athletic that two constantly compete with one another. Attempting to “one up” their rival. I’d envision their competition to be like a see saw of sorts. To the bemusement of both friend groups.

Eventually, Katara confronts Azula about the rivalry at some point. Which sparks a fight of sorts. One that ends… in a draw.

At this point, when Azula and Katara are both on their knees and panting in front of each other the two “give into” their desire for one another.

At this moment, Azutara may or may not get in slight trouble with their university for “public indecency”.

Afterwords, Azula and Katara are officially girlfriends. To the surprise of no one. And the Gang + the dangerous ladies + the families back home tease both girls immensely for how obvious they both were.

Several blissful months pass, when one day while the two are enjoying an evening in Katara’s dorm Azula stumbles upon a curious letter. A letter that she recognizes. A letter that has burned it self into her memory. A letter that she wrote.

When Katara returns to find her Azula in tears she is alarmed. She wonders just why her headstrong girlfriend is crying and tries too comfort her. Ot is then that Katara notices the letter and explains to Azula her mothers sacrifices after her murder.

It is then that Azula admits to Katara that she was the one who wrote the letter. Which predictably does not go over well at first. But eventually the the love between the two overcomes the struggle.

And in the end, Katara is grateful that it was her mother who had perhaps prophetically saved her girlfriend and eventual spouse. She will always miss and loves her mother. But Katara is relived to hear her mothers heart pattering away in Azula’s chest when she lays an ear to her breast. A smile always comes to Katara’s face as she hears the the steady beat beat beat. It is a reminder of both the fragility, the coincidences, and the joys of life.

————————————————————————

What do you think? Like I said it simply a barest outline of an idea . I don’t know if you take prompts or anything like that, but if the idea tickles your fancy as it were, I wanted to bring it to your attention. If it not, that’s a okay two! Like I said it is merely an idea for your consideration. So feel free to add or subtract from the idea.

I hope you liked it!

-745 voice of the people

Hi! @745voiceofthepeople

I'm doing well! How are you?

This is such an interesting idea!

I love Azula and Katara having a "friendly" rivalry with one another while everyone around them is just betting on when they'll get together (Aang would win the bet btw). It would be like a see saw. Azula gets the best grade in their calculus class? Well then Katara has to one up her in their organic chemistry class.

Azula: My perfect score on our last psychology test will great with the others.

Katara: Where should I put this hundred that I got with a little gold star from our professor saying I outdid his expectation?

Toph: Just kiss already!!!

I wonder though if there could be a way to foreshadow (for lack of a better word) that Azula has Kya's heart.

Like Katara and Azula are on a date one night and Azula has chest pains and needs to go to the hospital which is when she tells Katara about how sick she was as a kid and that she needed a heart transplant.

Katara: You really scared me back there.

Azula: Sorry. I really didn't think this would be an issue anymore.

Katara: I'm just glad you're okay. So, what happened exactly?

Azula: When I was younger, I got really sick. My heart didn't work right and I needed a new one so I got a transplant. I'm just lucky someone had a heart I could use. According to the doctors, if I hadn't gotten one within the month I would have died.

Katara: Well I wish I could have met whoever it was that gave you your new heart. I owe them a lot.

Katara thinks it's just a weird coincidence because she has no idea who her mom's heart went to but it's just a little hint.

Also love how conflicted Katara would be here. On the one hand, if her mother was still alive Azula, her girlfriend and later wife, would be dead. On the other hand, Azula being alive means her mother had to die.

So, I do take prompts the problem is that this could turn into a 20 chapter story easily and I can't do that😂.

[aquadestinyswriting]

Ayyyy, Aqua! :D Happy STS! So I'm making my way through Titan Modern AU, and . . . actually, take two questions on it. 8)

I have legitimately looked everywhere, and I am severely curious. :') Have you thought of a title for this one, or is its title literally just Titan Modern AU?

More importantly, tho, how much did you have to change to make the world of Fangthane's Folly fit the modern day? (And what did you end up keeping? I notice there's magic and dwarves, but how different are these bits compared to their DnD roots?)

Hope this ask finds you well! :D o/

Hi Jax, this is technically a day late, but not really because time zones are a thing :P. I am very well, thank you. I am enjoying the fact that the words seem to be flowing quite easily for the time being and taking advantage of that to write a lot for all my ongoing series and creating new ones. Thanks very much for the questions, I have a lot to talk about with this AU :D. Answers are under a cut because the second one is going to get quite long.

Question 1

I don't currently have an actual title for this one yet. I have a tendency to title WIPs towards the end of writing them and this one is no exception. I have some vague ideas, but I'm not too concerned about it just yet. Especially since there's a high possibility that this one is going to throw some major curveballs my way once I get into the thick of the plot that might well change the kind of title I want to give it.

Question 2

Ah, the dwarves are technically not a thing for this one. Everyone is more or less human, unless it's directly stated otherwise. The reason Fangthanian women can have beards at all is down to a slight genetic quirk which means they are pre-disposed to much higher testosterone levels than average. The Throffite community, in particular, is very insular and tend to inter-marry within themselves due to a history of discrimination against them.

As to how I changed the setting to fit with the modern aesthetic:

I've modelled Fangthane city a little bit after towns like Fort William, since the location of Fangthane in Allansia has a relatively similar geography to that of the Scottish Highlands. So Fangthane city is no longer built into the mountain, but is a city that was built very close to the mountain (which is now called Ben Oir). Extrapolating from there, and taking into account the maps that exist of Allansia, it was a a matter of figuring out how and why there would be outposts for the kingdom that are so far away from the capital. In that case, an old empire made a lot of sense, and taking into account the relative time period this AU is set in (roughly the 90s to early 2000s), it also made sense that said empire had been disbanded, but that communities deriving from it still exist (hence why Stonebridge and Firetop are still mainly natively Fangthanian). So, yeah, culturally speaking Fangthane is basically the UK transplanted into Allansia at this point.

I wanted some of the history of Toreguarde to remain intact because there are plot things related to that that will pop up later in the story. The city was almost destroyed, officially, by what is considered to have been a terrorist organisation that was working on behalf of another state and/or one of the ruling council of Toreguarde of the time who went just teeny bit mad with power (Greydown was an absolute ass in canon, and is in this AU too).

As the setting, rather purposefully, appears to be lacking in magic, no mentions are made of demons, portals or the breaking of reality, even by those who were present at the time. The remaining Heroes still exist, but I'm working out what their exact roles in all that were. Egrim is still a priest, so that's him covered. Alexis, upon talking to Dru about it, was probably a sniper that was a part of the military forces of Toreguarde at the time, while Selene was probably some sort of science-y nerd person brought in to help explain some of the weirder stuff that went on that was kind of acknowledged and then later given plausible and sensible scientific explanations. She just happened to be somewhat decent at this diplomacy lark when communication with the reinforcements from Fangthane started going south, hence her current role in the story. She probably worked quite closely with Ivan, who I have yet to figure out the details of, with regards to that. I also need to figure out what Fai did and what happened to him...

I am doing a lot of this worldbuilding and adjusting Fantasy canon on the fly, to be quite honest, so not a lot of it is set in stone just yet. However, I have given some thought to the Throffite community both in Fangthane and in Toreguarde and some of their history and culture, drawing a lot on what I established about Throffism in the fantasy canon and doing some major research into the irl history of such things to make sure that anything I write about it is handled as sensitively as possible. I have also written copious notes on the hows and whys of the fractious relationship between Fangthane and Toreguarde that would fit in with more modern (Western, as that is what I'm familiar with) political norms.

[faebriel]

i’d love to hear abt that first modern au you mentioned (the Niki centric one)

link to where the au was mentioned here! going to say big content warning for suicide on this one because it is literally about c!wilbur's suicide in a modern au context

oh yeah that one is freaking tragic. okay so essentially the original l'manberg crew all lived near each other and were good friends in relative late teens-early twenties harmony (i imagined this fic being set in aust because of course i did... more on that later) and wilbur ends up working in electoral offices. unfortunately for as much as he loves politics, politics does not love him back - he has a lot of deep-seated issues with anxiety and paranoia which only exacerbate with the stress he takes on at work. after taking on some big new role he moves across the country with tommy, who manages to drag tubbo with them. niki and fundy make him promise to stay in touch and predictably he does not. the few times niki does manage to get a hold of him, he's evasive; when fundy yells at him over the phone, he does little to disparage the insults. the rest of so-called l'manberg moves apart.

and then wilbur dies.

it is extremely bad. the only friends or family to speak of that wilbur had in his new home were tommy and tubbo - tubbo is very barely keeping things together enough to sort out paperwork and funeral proceedings and the other grim administration that follows an unexpected death, and tommy is not keeping things together at all. the news rocks the far-flung members of their once-little family. wilbur had been distant, maybe down on himself - but no one expected him to kill himself. niki didn't. niki had just trusted that this was some adjustment period and he would be okay and wilbur would start replying to her texts again or maybe even move back and it would be okay. this wasn't supposed to be the end. the news absolutely wrecks her, and she can't tell how much of her is sad and how much of her is angry and how much of her is a fucked up combination of both - a seething mass of barely-held-back tears and shouting.

niki, who had moved back to their childhood city in the interim, books a flight across the state to go see tommy and tubbo for the funeral. she is alarmed and pissed off to run into phil and techno at the airport, on the very same flight as her - wilbur's dad and his uhh techno (dad's friend? brother-ish-person? acquaintance? no one could get a consistent story out of them). they're not super happy to run into her and her attitude either - wilbur had not been close with his family even while l'manberg operated as a unit, and niki had made her judgements of his family accordingly. in a very c!niki way. i.e. with stubborn vindictiveness. if wilbur was struggling so much that even she didn't realise the severity until it was too late, where was his family?

phil and techno, on the other side of the coin, had figured that wilbur's friends were nothing to be impressed with - especially given wilbur's apparent struggles with mental health that kind of blindsided them. where were his friends? i'm assuming they might have taken an incidental reputation hit in letters wilbur wrote to phil as he tried to stress that everything in his life was going Perfectly.

(niki blames phil and techno because the alternative means that she has to blame herself. she needs to lash out at something to survive! phil and techno blame wilbur's friends (not just niki, she's just the one who is standing there...) because the alternative means blaming themselves. they're all being a bit shitty and spewing these unfair takes on each other because no one can cope with the idea that it's their fault their friend/son died.)

anyway airport! they snip and bitch their way at each other through check-in until it happens that the flight is indefinitely delayed due to freak weather or something - but all three of them need to cross the country by like, early next week to make it to the funeral. they do not have time for flight delays.

so eyeing each other with suspicion - and knowing damn well they are going to the exact same place - they trundle over to the hire car service, and find a wagon available for them to hire right away.

the catch is (probably because niki is too young to hire a car on her own. sorry niki) they have to hitch a ride together.

(okay circling back to the australia setting thing! imagine niki, phil and techno living in sydney, and wilbur, tommy and tubbo moving to perth. driving from sydney to perth and vice versa is A Thing, although it's far less common now due to air fares becoming more accessible. y'know driving across the nullabor? it's like, that plus the little bit between adelaide and sydney. if you're gunning it (for example, if you have three drivers to tag-team between), you can make it from sydney to perth in 3 and a half days. now, you'd probably only want to go that fast for something really important, like if you were driving to a friend's funeral with his shitty family who you've decided that you hate.)

oh, also they find a kid in the parking lot who begs them to take him with them when they tell him that the flight was cancelled - he's in an absolute tizzy because his online friend has had something really bad happen, like really bad, and he impulsively bought a plane ticket because he needs to go see him now now now. they let ranboo in because they're so nice and also because techno peer pressures him into stealing them potato chips for the road or something idk

anyway! hence ensues three and a half days of bonding as niki, phil and techno are stuck in a car with nothing but each other and their grief (and ranboo). they talk about wilbur. they realise there are things one of them knew about wilbur that the others didn't. they watch stars stream past as they constantly drive and the sunrise spill over the sand when they pause at a rest stop to get more food and water. they share different parts of wilbur's life that they were each there for - phil has the baby stories, but niki has every stupid anecdote from uni. they bond with each other independent of wilbur. niki and techno talk about baking and try to kick each other in the sand when they stop to stretch their legs. ranboo sees a kangaroo for the first time (how?). phil reveals the absolute blowout fight he and wilbur had shortly before wilbur died and for the first time since the phone call from fundy, niki doesn't blame someone for his death

i'm just thinkin.....they've stopped for the night out in the middle of nowhere, its an endless orange dustbowl as far as the eye can see, night sky stretching up above them. they're miles away from anything but a petrol station, and the stars are brilliantly bright. and someone just says, "wilbur would have loved this"

eventually they do make it across the country - right on time, they have to take turns getting changed into their funeral blacks in the back of the car as the others guard the windows - and they're tentatively, but permanently, friends. and then they can grieve.

(and yes, the second they find tommy and tubbo in the crowd, ranboo comes out of nowhere to scoop tubbo up into a hug and ask if he's alright - because yes, the world is That Fucking Small.)

anyway. i imagine it being a very melancholic piece - very fraught tone at the beginning as everyone is grieving and can't handle that so they shove all their grief and confusion into anger and shove it at each other, picking petty fights until they realise they are literally not going to back it across if they don't pull their shit together. they try to get along, but the only thing they know they have in common is wilbur. and from there the assumptions spill out, followed by the corrections to those assumptions, then the stories, then how they're all feeling... eventually they settle on the fact that, well, wilbur's dead. they can kick around who they blame and whose fault it is (including their own) for the rest of their lives, and it's never going to bring them back. so instead, they lean on each other - knowing extremely keenly what each other is going through as they process all that cloudy confusion and anger and devastation in the direct aftermath so they can all properly grieve, and properly lay wilbur to rest.

[retvenkos]

olive my mind has decided it will take me back to my tmr roots randomly last night so 🚀 with gally from the maze runner if you’re still accepting these

jen!!! hello friend!!! how are you?

(also, @heliads you asked for gally, too, so i’m tagging you <3)

GALLY in a MODERN, CELEBRITY, PR RELATIONSHIP! AU. now, this is one loaded™ au so stick with me, asdfghgfds. gally is a small time celebrity. correction: gally is the son of two famous actors who fell in love on set of an action film, and had an incredibly public romance. from very young, it was thought he would follow in his parent’s footsteps and become an actor as well - in fact, he even did a few acting jobs as a child and while he wasn’t exactly critically acclaimed, he was talented enough as paolo morelli in goncharov, and he was a child and so it was forgivable. when he was eleven, however, his parents famously sent him abroad, to go live with his grandparents in some rural town. he grew quite a bit in those 18 years, and now he’s a talented ufc figher (with a background in boxing, wresting. kockboxing, and taekwondo, though occasionally he’ll throw in some jiu-jitsu or muay thai. he has a wide range of fighting styles, alright?) who would really rather not have celebrity status at all because while it’s flattering that people cheer for him in the ring, he really would like to just,,,, walk around new york city like a normal human being every once in a while. you, on the other hand, are a somewhat up and coming actor, still diversifying your roles and trying to figure out where you belong. your career really shot off when you played a major character in game of thrones, and then later, a role in bridgerton. you’ve done other work before that - small time roles, nothing of note unless your a die hard fan that wishes to watch every piece of media you’ve ever acted in - but you were recently offered a role in a blockbuster of epic proportions, and you’re staking your entire career on it. the problem is, it’s not exactly a period piece or any kind of historical fantasy (of which you are most well known and popular)... it’s an apocalypse movie. a sort of revival of the genre amidst the influx of superhero movies, if you will. you auditioned and got the part, and so there’s no real worry over your ability to act the hell out of this film, but when it comes to convincing the public, something more has to be done. you’re not exactly well known for your fighting ability, after all. wait. fighting ability?? the director of the film is a bit on the young side, but she’s been friends with gally since his amateur acting days i mean they starred together in goncharov after all. gally begrudgingly sees her as a younger sister, so when she begs him on her hands and knees to come back to acting - just for a small role that involves a lot of stunts!!! - he can’t exactly say no. and so what if she forgot to mention that his character has a small, heavily implied yet next explicitly stated, romantic arc with you, the main character? it’s not like she purposefully left that out when attempting to convince him, haha. and so when you and gally first meet, he already has a bad taste in his mouth for this entire affair. really, he was the idiot for not reading about his character as thoroughly as he should, but that doesn’t change the fact that he officially hates this. any anyone taking part in it. and so...... you, too. and really, you are just a bit annoying in your Extreme Dedication to an acting job that probably won’t become that big a blockbuster, anyway. i mean, who wants apocalypse movies, anymore?? (mr. gally, sir, i think you are underestimating the found family dynamic) you both play your parts on camera well, but the dissent between you is starting early, and off camera, no one wants to be near the two of you. and so when your director sees you guys aren’t exactly... chummy with each other, she goes out of her way to send the two of you on Bonding Field Trips... that a desperate photographer notices and latches onto, immediately. the news breaks early the next day - is there a romance budding between hollywood’s newest actor and most forgotten star??? gally is allergic to press and so he doesn’t actually realize what’s happened until he’s been caught by paparazzi and he deigns to check the news. this reporter by the name of thomas,,,,,, he better watch his back, gally is not pleaased. and so when the both of you rush onto set that morning you’re both understandably upset - you have a partner!!! well,,, okay, maybe you have a crush on a fellow actor - but it was certainly progressing!!! it was going somewhere!!!! never mind if they still overlooked you for someone else, you were going to confess to them soon!!! how can you do that now??? and meanwhile gally is like!!!!! this goes against my loner status!!!! the ~bad boy~ appeal!!!! i already took a season off of fighting for this stupid movie, and now you’re ruining my image, too???? but that’s when the both of you are stunned. absolutely blindsighted. this is good pr for the movie, can’t you just pretend to be dating during the shooting process, press tour, and like four months after the release??? oh, someone is about to die on this set piece - we can call it an unfortunate accident, and the press from that will cover up this ridiculous dating scandal that will not ever, in a thousand years, under any circumstances happen— hard cut to you and gally planning your first ~undercover~ date. this is not going to well - of that, you are most certain. gally is the hardest person to get along with! nothing is ever good enough! he doesn’t even want to be here! he was born into the very profession you’ve been desperately chasing since you were old enough to realize the people on screen were actors and not just characters, and he mocks you for having any ambitions at all! at least you try things. at least you give them your all! what has gally done but squander his acting talent from the moment he arrived on set? well, did it ever occur to you that he hates show buisness? that he ran away from it for a very specific reason and never wanted to come back at all, but does so because he does have a heart, actually, and doesn’t want to see his old friend create something that’s a flop?? you know what? never mind. he’ll do whatever you want for these stupid dates. and he’ll be a good little puppet and smile at the cameras and everything. you just make the plans. he’ll wash his hands clean of any of it. if you hate him so much, the least he can do is let you choose what activities you have to grin and bear with him. and so you go on a date, and luckily, the press manages to miss the awkward moments. and then, sometime later, you go on a second. and at the end of that second date, the both of you get so drunk you’re actually laughing the whole way home. and maybe you don’t hate each other so much after all.... maybe you actually fall in love with this idiot - so much so that for a moment, you forget entirely how this relationship began in the first place. that is,,,,, until a Notoriously Hard-Ass Interviewer asks you about the pr relationship outright. after all, weren’t you seen trying to approach another actor, right around the time that the first images leaked? and so you admit when the first pictures leaked, you and gally weren’t dating - you were doing bonding activities so that your on-screen performance would seem more real. and then the rumors broke, and the two of you were a bit awkward about going to places together afterward, but you still did those bonding activities, and at some point, started to contact him outside of those events. you were given ufc tickets and wanted to go with someone who could explain what the hell was going on. you wanted to try out that new korean bbq place and wished to go with someone who would openly state his opinion on all of the food present, and eat it all with a smile anyway. you wanted to go to an amusement park with someone who was good at all the fair games and would insist on giving all the prizes to you. you wanted someone who would get incredibly competitive over inconsequential trivia when watching jeopardy on game night (he did grow up with his grandparents after all, and so game night was a very sacred occurrence, thank you very much). so you were interested in someone else when the rumors began. but when you started dating him - officially, that night when the both of you went to that release party for a fellow friend’s new movie - that was real. and so was everything after. but who knows? maybe gally was just treating you like some pr relationship. the reporters would have to ask him, next. and gally, who is in the car, commuting to an interview of his own yet watching this all take place live, swears viciously. you would do something like this. and despite himself, that’s why he loves you.

[rpvmsx]

This muse bio also functions as a permanent starter call! Like or reply at any time to easily request a closed starter from this muse

Tags: Threads | Musings | Art | Asks

Full Name: Johnthanielliot

Nickname(s): Johnthaniel

Age: 2352, Appears to be late-20s or early-30s

Species: Human

Height: 6'2"

Gender: Male (he/him)

Appearance: Fair but sun-damaged skin, mid-back, wavy auburn hair. Scruffy. Honey-brown eyes. Outfits are an odd collection of anachronistic pieces from across time and space.

Orientation: Bisexual, but he doesn't like to label it

Ships: none

shipping with Johnthaniel gets complicated. single-ship is a-okay, but when we approach multi-ship, there may be implied infidelity, or references to other canonical ships as something in the past. AUs are not possible for Johnthaniel, so it all has to fit into his canonical timeline somehow

World(s): all of them

AUs: none, every appearance of Johnthaniel is canonical

About: Born in the year 2528 in a city resembling a futuristic NYC to poor parents, Johnthaniel spent most of his early life in trouble; he’s always been kind of a delinquent. Once he was old enough to fend for himself, he fell into a life of crime. Petty theft, mostly, but there was an occasional scam or con that went above and beyond. He was the brains of the operation, despite being a little on the dumb side.

Especially low on cash one day, he signed up for some scientific testing program that promised to pay well. Little did he know, his life would be forever derailed because of this decision. After stepping into the experimental time device, the scientists fired it up and— something went wrong. Very wrong. Scientists scrambled to fix it but in a flash, it was like nothing had ever happened… A minor headache and some strange, deja vu is all the scientists are left with, while Johnthaniel had been sucked through some kind of temporal anomaly and was now trapped in the Void. All evidence of his existence and all memories of him ceased to exist, so no one went looking for him.

He spent about 2,000 years floating through the Void, unsure of what to do, assuming that he had died. Eventually he started to figure out some of the rules of his new state of existence. He figured out how to walk on solid ground in the vast expanse of nothingness. Then, thinking he was hallucinating from the boredom or loneliness, he realized he could see… everything.

He exists as a glitch in the universe; existing outside of space and time, he is now free to travel anywhere, any anywhen he pleases. As easy as walking to the park, he can move between 8th century France and modern day San Francisco. With no home to return to, he’s resolved to simply wander wherever his whims take him, popping up all over the place.

If you’re lucky enough to be in the same place and time as him, you’ll at least be pleased to find that he’s an agreeable sort of fellow. He’s always had a smooth charisma and charm, and it comes in handy now that he has to try and fit in in all new times and places. He’s a bit dumb, but he’s hardworking and has a lot of drive.

Fun Facts:

Incapable of creating a paradox no matter what he does

Rather skilled with a sword

[nickypoppieandel]

Sunday

oh dear!! I’ve just lost what I have taken the last half hour to write! I want to go to sleep as we have a very early start tomorrow, so I will have to be brief and do it in odd points. Sorry!!

Breakfast will be photographed tomorrow … biggest spread I have ever seen.

We all turned up on time for the bus to leave for our city tour.

One person 20 minutes late …. the guide for the day!!

When he got on the bus and started talking, I assumed he had some sort of cerebral palsy. He apologised for being late (a public transport problem) and apologised for wearing sunglasses in the bus (so much outdoor tour guiding). After an agonising hour or so, listening to his v e r y. s l o w. t a l k I n g and repeating himself, we were outside at the ski jump (about that in a minute) when he was suddenly interrupted full sentence, led away and replaced by a fabulous woman who is a retired teacher. We soon learned my cerebral palsy person was “high”! Silly fella!!

The Holmenkollbakken (I knew this blog would be harder to write than going across the Nullarbor!!) ski jump, now the most modern in the world, was initially built in 1892 and regularly renovated and modernised since. It hosted the 1952 Winter Olympics and is a really popular place for kamakaze Norwegians to spend a winter’s day.

Next stop was the Vigeland Sculpture Park. This beautiful and enormous park is full of granite sculptures by Gustav Vigeland. (A few photos) They are all naked, basically depicting the circle of life and he is one of the few (or only) sculptors who sculpture old people. He is not known internationally. He had a contract with the government to keep his work in Norway and they would provide him with a home, a studio and an income. He shared a mistress with Edward Munch (The Scream) even though he said he and Edward didn’t really have anything to do with each other. Look him up… it’s a very interesting life. When Norway was occupied by the Nazis, he was terrified his sculptures would be stolen. At this stage they were at his studio but he already had plans for them to be displayed at the park but he died before it was completed and it was hastened as the feeling was the Nazis wouldn’t steal what was on public display. It is the most beautiful park.

Because I’m getting sleepy, I’m going to dot point other things I learned today:

Norway appears to be full of helpful, polite people, silent vehicles, wonderful architecture, forward thinking Governments, masses of green spaces and a general care for each other.

he didn’t name any of his statues.

In one street (named after one of the King’s daughters), trees have been planted from all over the world (some needing special underground heating to enable them to grow) so that anyone coming to Oslo will see familiar trees.

The photo,of the 2 chairs is part of a group of 35(?) representing the 35 Jewish people who returned from Poland out of the 700 or so Jews who were taken from Norway to Nazi concentration Camps. They face the fjord from where they left Norway by shop and have no seats to remind people there is no rest or respite for the hundreds who were lost.

Once a hear, the carillon plays John Lennon’s Give Peace a Chance. It appears that the Norwegian government has a much longer-term view of improving the lot of all citizens.

Very few children attend private school.

If you are over 67 and you have a long way to walk to catch public transport, you will be picked up!

The State appears to have the ability to plan for the future.

Generally:

It is estimated that all buses will be electric by 2025.

A Teslar - apparently - can be bought for $AUS 55,000!

37% of the land is covered by trees.

The drinking water is the best in Northern Europe.

To help first home buyers, the State gives the purchaser a loan to get started.

Norway and Denmark were part of the Napoleonic Wars (who knew THAT???!!)

When Napoleon lost, Denmark’s punishment was to lose Norway, which was given to Sweden ( I don’t know who made those decisions!!)

Norway was part of Sweden for a long time (too long for me to remember!!) I think they broke away and received independence in 1905.

I’m sorry it is all in dot points, but I just didn’t have the energy to start again after I’d lost the first effort!!

We had a delicious dinner at the quay, taking with us a woman who is also on the tour and who asked me if she could join us. We met her last night at dinner. I think she’d had a few wines for afternoon tea, but I got talking to her when she told me she used to work for what is now Water NSW. When I say I got talking, she actually got talking! Tonight she was very subdued and seemed a little sad. So I’m glad we said “Yes! Come along!”

Tomorrow we leave early and have two train trips to a village called Flam, famous for its fjords. There may not be internet. The following day we go by ferry, bus and train to Bergen, where will be board the shop for our six day cruise. Hope it’s not like the Magestic Princess!!! as yet, not many trees have turned autumn red, but we are enjoying all the green space. Oslo has been described as a park, with a city in it! Pretty true. Good night!

[whetstonefires]

fictober prompt #11:  “But I will never forget!”

“You win,” said the child.

“I win?”

“Yes. But I will never forget! My parents. Where I came from.”

“That’s fine?” He was aware he sounded less like the Dark Knight than the easily bewildered Lord Wayne, but he couldn’t seem to stop. Even if it wasn’t really easy to bewilder him, it could still happen, and it had. “It’s good, actually. I wouldn’t want you to.”

“Oh, right.” Dik Grayson folded his arms. “Because they’re why you want me.”

He winced a little. He hadn’t meant to give the impression by talking about the loss they had in common that if the young tumbler recovered from his grief he would lose interest in him. He hoped the edge of his temper would ease a bit, as time passed. His had, if only slightly, but then his parents’ killer never had been caught. He was hoping Zucco’s upcoming public trial would help. “That’s not exactly…”

“What they taught me. That’s what makes me valuable.”

“I would…say I value you for your own unique talents….”

“Stop it, I’m not stupid.” The child acrobat’s head dropped. Defeat and defiance mingled in every line of him. “I know what you did.”

Bruce was stumped. “And what did I do?”

The young face flashed up again, furious and covered in tears; he was weeping, but his voice didn’t catch at all. “You wanted me, so you got them out of the way!”

It felt surprisingly like being stabbed. “What?”

“Don’t think you’re the first one to try it! Everyone says, what a pretty little bird, I wish he were mine, and then some of the lords and ladies try to buy me. And some of you don’t like to hear no. You’re just the first one to pull it off.”

“It was Zucco. We proved it was Zucco.”

“Yeah.” The tears of fury were slowing, stemmed to bitterness. “Once I calmed down, I thought—that’s awfully convenient, isn’t it. It’s not like the circus sees that much coin, and we’re only here a few weeks at a time. It’s weird that a thief-king with that much pull would bother to set up such a fancy murder just to threaten old man Haley.”

“You…heard him confess, I’ve got him locked in the Tower of Justice awaiting trial right now—”

“Convenient!” The child repeated. “He’s out of your way and silenced as soon as he’s dead.”

“…We’ve abolished execution as a punishment in Gotham.”

Blink. Finally thrown off his stride. “Oh. Well, still! If you did it through an intermediary he won’t be able to point to you.”

“Dik. Dik Grayson, listen to me. I only wanted to help you. And punish a crime committed in my city. Those were my only motives.”

“Yeah? So why am I still here? Why not let me go with the rest of the Circus?”

Bruce took a bracing breath. At least he was getting to the root of the misunderstanding. “Legally, I couldn’t. None of them were your blood relatives, nor did they produce written proofs that your parents had willed you to their care.

“I wouldn’t normally enforce those rules on non-citizens unless someone was being hurt, but for Zucco to see justice you must give evidence at the trial, and once you are entered into the record as an unattached infant, protocol dictates that you must be found a legally responsible guardian. If I allow you to disappear, the case comes under suspicion for bad practice and possible conspiracy and may be overturned in the lower court on review, as your testimony will not be available but Zucco’s influence in the lower city will.”

This was rather more politics than he had intended to explain to an eight-year-old, but apparently if you didn’t tell children what was going on they cooked up elaborate paranoid fantasies.

…he’d been the same way, come to think of it. “I told you you would have to stay here in the city,” he reminded Dik, “if you wanted to see him brought to justice.”

The flea of a boy was goggling up at him. His eyes really were enormous. “I thought that was a bargain!”

“What?” Egad. Of course he had. Bruce pinched the top of his nose. “It wasn’t. Just a necessity.”

“So…if I go kill him now, you won’t need to try him. So then can I go?”

“If you go and kill him now I’ll have to put you in the Tower.” Bruce tried to keep his tone even. He managed not to pinch his nose again. He wasn’t really getting a headache, he just felt like he should be. “But…I don’t think you’re the kind who could kill a chained man in cold blood, Dik.”

The boy sighed. “No, you’re right. I couldn’t.”

They both stared at the paving stones between them. Thank goodness the child had chosen to do this in a private courtyard, where they shouldn’t have been overheard.

“So you’ll let me go?”

Bruce let out a long breath. “If you don’t mind the Zucco case falling through.” A caravan could only move so fast, and they’d only left yesterday; if he loaned Grayson a fast horse tomorrow morning Alfred could be back before dinner.

It would be a wrench, to have the thief-king slip this noose. It might be years before Bruce caught him so dead to rights again. But he wasn’t a tyrant. That was important. He wasn’t going to start stealing children against their will just to keep order in his own city.

The boy grimaced, torn between two unacceptable futures.

“You don’t have to stay with me, of course,” Bruce said. He’d considered it a bribe, at the time, though one that would profit him as well; hundreds of youths would be thrilled to be taken into his household, even as stableboys. But not everyone wanted the same things in life. “I could find you another guardian, if you don’t mind working for your keep, or you can go to the orphan’s house in the lower city. I hold it to strict standards,” he added, since this again probably sounded like a threat. “It’s clean, there’s as much food as you want, and no one will be permitted to beat you. They’ll keep you until you turn sixteen or find a trade.”

“I have a trade,” the boy grumbled.

Bruce winced again. He really had made a hash. Alfred was going to rake him over hot coals. “It’s not the done thing to bind a boy out to a master tumbler, but if you find one I’ll expedite the paperwork.”

“But still in your city.” Those huge blue eyes were narrow in calculation, drying, salt tracks beneath them white. “Under your control.”

“There’s a transfer system,” Bruce said. “At the orphan asylum. You’re a likely young lad, any city would—be happy to have you.” Want you, he’d almost said. Surely he’d chewed enough boot leather for the month already.

Please stay, he did not say. The place under his ribs that had felt so surprisingly stabbed was no longer joyful at the thought of having the boy close, but if he left now all of this had been for nothing. Just a dumb-show. A puppet play.

Dik Grayson’s fists were tremble-tight. Bruce’s knuckles ached with sympathy. “Will you swear.” The autumn-blue eyes were a thousand miles deep. “That you had nothing to do with it? Swear?”

“On my parents’ graves.” His most solemn oath, but hardly enough to a child who suspected him of dishonoring their memory so. “I neither wished nor brought nor condoned nor bought harm unto your blood or house. I swear it on my city’s future, on my honor, and the name of my house. May my blood turn to water and my tongue wither to dust if I lie.”

Once, the stories said, such oaths were not taken in vain, and one who swore falsely would suffer the penalty he named. Bruce made it a policy to always act as though that were still the case, but it wasn’t, and a man’s word of honor was worth only as much as the honor of the man.

But slowly, the boy nodded. And put out his hand. Bruce raised his eyebrows, but if the circus was old-fashioned in its manners so much the better. His hand enclosed Grayson’s whole forearm, while the small callused palm pressed barely above his wrist, but that changed nothing. “I’ll stay,” said the boy. “I promise by my name.”

“You didn’t have to,” Bruce said. It was one thing to ask an oath of someone you could bind in no other way. To take one from someone under your power, even without compulsion, seemed poor form.

Dik shrugged, and disengaged. “It’s even, like this.”

Not fair, because nothing between them really could be, the gap between Bruce’s power and his too absolute. But even. Because an exchange of promises was something you made with an equal. And the circus performers weren’t Bruce’s people. They didn’t answer to him, though his laws bound them within the bounds of his domain.

“You said I’ll need to earn my bread,” the child said, hands thrust deep into scarlet pockets. “I’m eight, so I figure that means scut-work. Nobody would trust me alone with geese yet, let alone pigs. If I stay with you, would you want me to perform?”

“Would you want to?” asked Bruce. Dik shrugged. “Of course you don’t want to lose your family trade,” Bruce allowed. “But if you stayed with me I rather thought I’d take you as an apprentice.”

It seemed silly now, the starry half-formed fantasies he’d had after running the rooftops with the child at his heels, perfectly coordinated and brilliant, silent as a bird on the wing.

And, currently, gaping. “What, at lording?”

“..if you like,” Bruce shrugged. “I haven’t any other.” It would put some hearts in Gotham to rest and unsettle some that needed it, and show certain parties what you got by pressuring a Wayne, even an affable and easily influenced one. “You’d probably be rather good at it.” The gaping had, if anything, grown worse. “But I meant at my other trade, in fact.”

Incredulity retreated a little, at this, and for the first time in this whole bedeviled conversation the boy seemed to brighten. “You’re serious.”

“Only if you’re interested,” Bruce said blandly. “I think my friend Sir Dent could use a message-runner, and Lady Kyle might need someone new to look after her cats, since you’re interested in animals…”

“Oh, shut up!” Dik clapped a hand over his mouth, and Bruce surprised even himself with an outright laugh.

“No, go ahead, please. It’s an important function of every member of my household to tell me when I’m being insufferable.”

And then the boy was smiling back at him. “You’re serious,” he said, settled this time, as he affirmed his trust.

“Mm. I’ll have you a knight inside ten years.”

The child laughed. “Me, a knight! What Mam would have said.” He waved a hand grandly, the gesture a little too large for the room even with his short arms; designed to be seen from a distance. “I’ll do it, of course I will. Obviously you need someone to translate you to normal people.”

“You’ll need to learn the law if you’re going to explain it to people,” Bruce pointed out, the flat stabbed place under his ribs starting, cautiously, to grow light again.

His new apprentice nodded, grinning confidence. “Every line.”

He put his hand out again—normally Bruce would formalize such an agreement with a parent, or whoever stood in place of one, but there was nobody—Master Haley had left the city already and, as Bruce had explained, under Gotham law had had no legal standing, though Bruce would have discussed this formally with the man as a courtesy if it had occurred to him.

They clasped forearms again, the size disparity no less ridiculous than before but less important, somehow. Bruce inclined his head with all due solemnity for the sealing of a contract. He didn’t want Dik to think ever again that he did not see him as an equal.

[tiesthatbind-tf]

I have two new questions: Wouldn't Onyx Prime be African because of Eukaris more closely related to African traditions? And what would your version of Cyclonus look like and what ethnicity he would be?

Nope! Because I'm not using the extremely convoluted history IDW has for the characters/world before the main story. Onyx here is not Shockwave in disguise, he's much closer to the Aligned/Fun Publications version of the character. Eukaris exists but it's sort of a central homeland state created specifically for Beast Men where all variants of them would receive equal treatment (This is due to the fact that even in places where some of them were well-accepted, others were not, as an example Bird-style beast men being revered in Japan as 'Tengu', while fox-style beastmen were always pegged as tricksters and bear-style Beastmen were outright demonised outside of Ainu culture).

Beast Men in Ties That Bind are also not associated with a single culture or people.

There's actually a whole page dedicated to the explanation for Beast Men and Eukaris in this AU, I'll include it under a cut since it's long (TW for mentions of Human Trafficking and general dehumanization).

I haven't as of yet decided anything on Cyclonus!

BEAST MEN

A new subset of humanity which occurred during the Quintesson Invasion, Beast Men (Homo Bestia) were the product of genetic experimentations on humans and animals alike by Quintesson scientists in the early days of the invasion.

The exact nature or reason behind these grotesque experiments have yet to be fully understood but from what little has been translated from salvaged texts, it is believed that they were conducted to better understand the strengths and weaknesses of earth’s indigenous lifeforms and to create a robust ‘working animal’ for strip-mining and slave labour purposes by combining traits between them.However much of the early experimentation yielded less than satisfactory results; The Beast Men despite their enhanced strength were often wilder in nature and even more defiant than standard humans, with some unable to adapt to their heightened senses causing them to lash out at all stimuli.

Many were terminated as failed experiments while others were kept incarcerated as stock to continue Quintesson research to fine-tune the process.However, many still managed to escape through concerted combined efforts between themselves or were liberated by rebels later on between 1930 and 1945. They took part in the Second Quintesson War under the leadership of Owais Naseem, one of the thirteen heroes of the war and a Horse-Man (Centaur).

The most populous subset of Beast Men comprises of Canids, which make up 20% of their entire demographic due to their purported usefulness as huntsmen, guardsmen and even ‘pets’ to the Quintessons.This is followed by felid (15%), ruminant (15%), avian (10%), rodentia (10%), oceanic (10%)  and others (17%).The rarest type of Beast Men are Insectoid (3%). They usually feel a strong affinity for nature and most commonly reside in South America, Africa, Asia and their established ‘homeland’ of Eukaris.  They are least found (outside of government-commissioned Cold Constructs)  in the USA, France and the UK.

CLASSIFICATIONS OF BEAST MEN

Beast Men are classified into three categories according to a worldwide government census, mostly based on the level of visible mutation.

Class A (‘Humanoid’) Accounts  for 15% of Beast Men.

Mutations are recessive/subtle, mostly centered around eyes, ears. Occasionally will sport claws.

Due to their mostly human appearance, they are better accepted by society with some reaching fame due to their perceived safe but ‘exotic’ looks.

Little to no limitations on personal rights. Mixed marriages with standard humans are allowed but heavily frowned upon due to presiding fear that, as they are still carriers of the animal gene, their mutations will pass down and could become more dominant in their children.

Little to no animal instincts.

Class B (‘Mix’) The most common class accounting for 50% of all Beast Men.

General public perception tends to vary from mild distaste to full on disdain.

Their physiology tends to be animal-like wrapped around a human frame. Anatomy remains mostly human (eg: Having paws or claws, but relegated to human-size and shaped hands or feet).

Allowances made for public transport/spaces with conditions.

Mixed marriages with standard humans banned in most countries.

Overlaps can occur with Class C.

Mild animal instincts.

Class C (‘Feral’) Accounts for 30% of Beast Men.

The class facing heaviest persecution due to their completely non-human appearance. Human traffickers have been documented selling them to hunting parties and reserves.

Full animal traits, including major to full coverage of fur/feathers/scales, tails, teeth, digitigrade legs, etc. Will occasionally sport ‘distorted’ anatomy (like elongated arms for flight or running on all fours) or missing anatomy altogether (legs for snake-men) to better support animal physiology.

Not allowed in public transport and spaces unless clearly designated.

Mixed marriages with standard humans banned in most countries.

Strong animal instincts, however level of intelligence/emotional empathy remains the same as standard humans.

Class D (‘Shifters’) The rarest class, accounts for 5% of Beast Men

Are an offshoot of Class B and C individuals who have the ability to fully shapeshift into animals.

The phenomenon is still being studied.

BEAST MEN IN SOCIETY

Despite their role in helping to win the war, the relationship between Beast Men and modern society is shaky, with a majority of them suffering some form of discrimination from governments and people unwilling to make concessions for them in modern living and personal engagements.

Like Cold Constructs, many of them are seen as second-class citizens who find it hard to rent property due to landlords who insist on a ‘no animals’ rule being applied to them (thus pushing most of them into redlined districts and neighborhoods). Most forms of public transport also bar them entry due to the ‘hassle’ that accommodating all subsets of them would invoke.

More so, the ‘non-domestic’ variants of them are often seen as dangerous or unpredictable due to their enhanced sensitivity to stimuli which would otherwise not affect a ‘normal’ person (and there have been cases of people deliberately overloading their senses to force them to react in a violent manner), and this limits the job market for them as well.

Metropolitan cities, particularly in western countries, place heavy restrictions on their movements in public; Establishments and businesses are allowed to refuse them service or bar them entry if they are seen to be a threat or if the facilities are (often deliberately) not built to accommodate them.

Violence against them is a regular occurrence despite laws being passed to combat the issue and most Beast-Men will only go out in public with a chaperone or in groups for protection from harassment.

Worse yet are the cases of illegal hunting of Beast Men, whether for game or their body parts, which sees a steady demand in the black market.

However, the case isn’t the same in all countries; In many areas of Africa and Asia, certain subsets of Beast Men are mostly accepted as members of modern society.

Snake-Men are a welcomed group in Thailand due to their resemblance to mythical Naga, while Tiger-Men are seen as protectors and a symbol of courage in Malaysia.

Bird-Men receive adulation in most South and South-East Asian countries due to their resemblance to the Garuda, while the same can be said for Japan which sees them as Tengu.

Lion, Leopard and Panther-Men find similar acceptance in African nations, which sees Lion-Men in particular to have been royalty in a past life.

Scotland stands out among western nations due to its granting of full-class citizen status to Wolf-men, affectionately known as ‘Wulvers’, particularly in the Shetland Islands which in turn sees a high population of them compared to other European nations.

That said, as not all Beast Men subsets are accepted to the same level even in countries that accept certain types, a Beast Men-centric state that levies the same rights and acceptance for all subsets, Eukaris, was established in 2004 via extensive terraforming on Queen Maud Land in Antartica.

[btsficsforthehumble]

adj.: 1. Modern, unfamiliar, or different

2. Not based on or conforming to what is generally done or believed

pairing: reader x ot7

genre: college au; angst, fluff, smut, poly, ot7

Summary: You begin your first year at a prestigious university, set out on achieving your academic goals when a series of men step into your life that change the way you view the definition of love.

Part Four

Warnings: explicit language

Word count: 2k

Your alarm forces you out of a deep sleep at eight on the dot. Groaning, you blindly press the snooze button and flip your face into your pillow, not quite ready to deal with a new day. You let yourself doze for a few minutes, longing for the dark pull of sleep to take you back.

Now, you had to be at your class in under an hour and you were stressed. Seeing how much time had passed in your drowsy state allowed a fire to be lit under your butt, encouraging you to quickly jump in the shower and get ready for the day. All the while, all you wanted to do was answer the call of your abandoned bed.

After rushing around your apartment, you finally stepped out in some light brown corduroys and an embroidered blouse tucked into the waist. A light jacket thrown over top, you felt put together enough to start your day. Even with the rush, you managed to grab a couple of your million muffins from your baking spree yesterday and a to-go mug of coffee. You learned your mistake yesterday, when you showed up to morning classes without caffeine to push you through.

Walking across campus, you watch other students scurry off to their own morning classes. It still being the first week of the semester, most people hadn’t lost the motivation to go to their early classes just yet. You really hope that you won’t fall victim to that… you can’t afford to skip in a class you struggle with.

Once you arrive at your classroom, you head to the same spot you sat last class, and plop your bag down as you get your muffin out to eat before class. Setting it out, you sip your coffee and scroll though your phone, checking your inbox that had accumulated honestly way too many emails overnight.

Your eyes glued to your phone, you don’t even notice when a large hand swipes the muffin right off your desk.

Still absorbed in an email about volunteering for a local animal shelter, you hear someone sit loudly in the seat behind you. Ignoring it, you continue to read though the details of the email --- it looked like the animal shelter for your city, Autumn Leaves Adoption Center, was accepting new volunteers and was looking for students from your university specifically. You had always had a huge soft spot for animals, so you were excited at a chance to spend time helping out.

You glance up from your phone when you finish, and immediately notice your muffin missing from it’s spot on your desk. Bewildered, you begin to search around the classroom with your eyes to locate the stolen baked good. Not finding it with anyone on your sides or in front of you, you swing around to check out the suspects hiding from view.

Ding ding ding!

You found it. Well, you found half of it. The attractive boy that had pestered you yesterday had the other half of your precious muffin stuffed in his cheeks like some sort of squirrel. Caught, he gives the best grin he can with his mouth full, including his eyes crinkling and his eyes shining with mischief.

“Excuse me, you can’t just steal people’s breakfasts right off their desks! Who raised you?!” you whisper yelled. You could feel the blood rush to your cheeks from being flustered, and hoped he couldn’t see.

“Wuh yahr warn ehten et,” he replied, cheeks still full.

“Ugh, at least swallow first you animal!”

“Well, you weren’t eating it,” he flashes a grin.

“Um, excuse me sir, who allowed you to go around stealing people’s food the second you deem them to be not interested in it,” you snapped.

“Oohhh, can you say that again?” As he spoke, he raised an eyebrow while his eyes traveled up your body.

“Say what?” Your flat tone gave away your high level of irritation at him.

“Call me sir again, sweetheart. I think you and I both liked it,” he leaned forward as he spoke. His gaze was challenging, almost to see if you were able to handle him.

The truth is, if this asshole hadn’t just stolen your goddamn muffin you’d be happy to do so --- outside of the classroom --- anytime. The guy, you remember being named Taehyung, had gorgeous dark curls that anyone would dream about pulling on. His dark eyes were enigmatic, and by every definition intense. Tanned skin, clear and smooth only made him seem more ethereal. HIs natural looks, coupled with an artistic and sophisticated fashion sense, made him look like a character of a k-drama.

But, this guy had some audacity if you’ve ever seen any. So, you weren’t going to give into his charm as easily as he wanted.

Slowly, you lean forward on his desk, allowing him to get a good view of your tits while you lift a hand to his mouth, to swipe away excess crumbs that had been forgotten during his cookie monster moment. You lightly trace his bottom lip with the pad of your thumb, pushing down just hard enough for the flesh to ripple.

His eyes become more hooded, obviously thinking he had won you over with his charms.

“Why would I call someone sir, if they need to clean up after like a child, hmm?” You dropped your voice as you spoke, not only trying to limit prying ears but also to give yourself a more sultry sound.

You lean back and retract your arm. But instead of letting it drop, you raise the hand you had reached out to him to your face, and pop your thumb into your mouth. While your lips are still encircling your thumb, you let your eyes meet his.

Honestly, you weren’t expecting him to look as affected as he does. His eyes are narrow, surely from your jibe. However, you see that he seems to be breathing a little heavier than before, and that his hands were gripping the edges of his desk with more force than would be considered normal. This makes the veins and tendons pop on his already large and beautiful hands and you can’t help but let your eyes linger on them for a little.

“Mmm, I did a good job with these muffins, I can tell even with just crumbs,” you say after popping your thumb out of your mouth.

Catching you off guard, a cheery voice asks from over your turned around shoulder, “Oooo, are you sharing muffins? I love muffins!”

You turn around in your seat quickly in response. “Oh, uh, yeah.” You bend over and grab the other muffin you brought with you, thinking you’d eat it as a snack later in the day. Oh well.

You hand the muffin over, and quickly realize this is the same guy that sat in front of you yesterday, the cute one with the even cuter smile.

“Yay! Thank you so much! You’re my new favorite person!” he declared. He was giving you a smile even bigger than the one that you had swooned over prior, and really looked like the embodiment of sunshine. “My name is Hoseok, but you can call me Hobi.”

“I’m y/n! And don’t worry about the muffin, I have about a million back at home. I went on a bit of a baking spree yesterday,” you giggled.

You hear a surprised scoff come from behind you. Apparently, Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome is unhappy with the heat you gave him, now knowing that not only did you have much more at home, but had another with you. And you gave it away. You can’t help but let out a small smile at his indignation.

“It’s nice to meet you y/n! I hope I’ll get to have more of your treats in the future, this is delicious!” Hoseok says, already taking a bite.

You give him a wide smile in return. “If you want, I can save you one of whatever I make. I love to bake new things all the time.”

Hoseok begins to reply, but is cut off by the professor starting class. His eyes widen a little, surprised at the intrusion, but quickly sends you an apologetic smile as he turns around to face the lecturer.

Prepared for social hour to be over, because frankly, this was way too much for you at 9 am, you pulled out your notes. As you straighten up, you feel a presence behind your ear. Being this close, you could smell a musky, dark, masculine scent wash over you.

“I hope you save some for me too, sweetheart. I’m a growing boy,” Taehyung huskily murmurs, quiet enough to be missed by anyone else.

Cheeks hot at the double meaning of his words, all you manage to get out was a flat, “No promises.” Hoping to appear unaffected by him, you go right back to paying attention to your professor. Hoseok, in front of you, was oblivious to your and Taehyung’s hushed conversation and was busy scribbling away in his notes. You take a deep breath, and follow suit.

Unfortunately, calculus is as hard as you remember. As the professor lectured, you could feel whatever understanding you had previously drift away. You write notes at a furious pace, in hopes that whatever you copy down you’ll understand at a later time.

You sigh after your professor dismisses class. You are feeling frustrated that even during the first week, you seem to be slipping behind in your understanding of the class material.

“Hey are you okay? Class was a lot today, huh.” Hoseok turned around in his chair to speak, seeming to have caught your pitiful sigh. You glace up to meet his eyes, your expression slightly sheepish.

“Yeah, I’m okay, just not very good at calculus,” you admit with a small smile.

He gives you a sunny smile in return. “Do you wanna study together? I actually like math. I know, I’m strange for that.”

Your eyes widen a little in surprise. He barely knows you but is offering to help you with the subject you struggle with the most. It was a no-brainer.

“Oh my gosh, yes! I’d love to have a study partner for this class. I’m so worried about falling behind.” You feel your face fall into a small pout at your confession.

“Can I join? I’m not too great at math either.” You jump a little, completely forgetting about the human pain in the ass behind you.

“Of course! The more the merrier!” Hoseok beams, looking past you to the boy behind. “I’m Hoseok, but everyone just calls me Hobi.”

“I’m Taehyung, nice to meet you.” He gives Hoseok a grin as he introduces himself, seemingly never not up to trouble.

“You too! Do you guys want to meet tomorrow? We can go to the coffee shop around the corner from here,” Hoseok suggests.

You nod, and Taehyung gives a noise of agreement behind you, before asking, “Do you guys want to trade numbers? That way we don’t have to wait to see each other to get help.”

Internally, you sigh, having a feeling he was going to use your number for more than just that. Regardless, you comply. The three of you swap your phones, inputting your contact information, and stand to exit the classroom as a new stream of students enter waiting for the next class to start.

“Bye guys! See you tomorrow!” Hoseok flashes his signature sunny smile as you depart.

“Bye Hobi!” You smile at him in response. Taehyung gives his own goodbye to the boy.

After Hoseok heads off a different direction, Taehyung leans closer to you to give you your own farewell. “Goodbye y/n, see you tomorrow sweetheart,” he basically purrs at you.

You give him a glare in response. “Bye, Taehyung.” After, you swiftly make your exit. That boy was a handful, to say the least. But, as much as you hate to admit it, he was hot. Like really hot. While Hoseok had that ‘boy next door’ quality, Taehyung oozed sex appeal. You were really going to have to train yourself to act normal around those two, if you were going to be spending extended time alone with them. Heading to your next class, you decide that is a problem for later.

[utilitycaster]

as a fellow member of the tribe lol i think jewish caleb hc get a bit uncomfy given the zemnian = d&d german connection and liam explicitly stating that he took a lot of inspiration from the german student resistance to the nazis. i dont think itd be fair to matt/liam to call the volstruckers d&d nazis but when you start throwing jewish hc in there it gets a bit awkward

So the OP of that post is Jewish, I believe, and iirc Liam actually said that he explicitly tried to distance from the Nazis specifically because he was doing a character with a German accent [which, and this came up as a fandom discussion relatively early in the campaign, is itself complicated; growing up as an American-born Jewish person in an Ashkenazi synagogue, the first German accents I heard were primarily from survivors, and I happen to have a very German-sounding last name for a combination of Yiddish/Ellis Island name change reasons despite being of more eastern European Jewish descent]. I believe he stated the inspiration was more from the KGB (though there are definitely some parallels with Nazis, particularly the Vollstrucker final exam). So that’s actually not what made me say “this doesn’t make sense!” I fully get if other Jewish people are somewhat uncomfortable, but based on how the Empire and specifically the Vollstruckers act I actually agree that a Cold War secret police model (KGB/Stasi) seems much more in line with the depiction in the show.

Jewish headcanons make me kind of uncomfortable in fantasy media not set in the real world because of a couple of reasons I’ve stated before. The main one is that Judaism is an explicitly monotheistic religion; it flat out does not make sense in a world that canonically has multiple, objectively real gods. It makes sense in a setting like the Unsleeping City, which is modern day NYC except there’s magic (and the only cleric is really more a cleric of a concept than a god) and I think that was fairly well-done representation, but in Exandria it’s the same idea as having an atheist - a monotheist in this world is just an idiot. So you end up with cultural markers, and there are plenty of people irl who are culturally but not religiously Jewish, which is entirely valid - but those people exist within a backdrop of Judaism being an ethnoreligion and the culture comes from that, and if you take away the religion you cannot really have the rest of it make sense. At this point I should note I’m probably thinking about this more than anyone asked, but I’ve never had a taste for headcanons that aren’t consistent with the worldbuilding because the worldbuilding is the framework on which I build everything else.

Culturally speaking though Caleb just doesn’t strike me as having a Jewish approach to things! I think it’s an older post - it just crossed my dash so I’d have to check to see where it lined up with the main campaign - but Caleb talks about being irredeemable and damned in a way that strikes me as, especially if you get into the meta-narrative of the actor not being Jewish, very culturally Christian. I have a lot of thoughts that probably belong on a different post but I find a lot of the discussion on redemption arcs in fandom to be super culturally Christian, too, which is fair! I think someone raised Catholic is going to feel very differently about the concept of redemption than I do. I see it as a very positive term that is highly subjective, and a process, not a binary state, but I also think that my view of it is influenced by my religious and cultural upbringing.

Meanwhile I do actually think a case can be made for Jester’s morality to fit Jewish philosophy - that she tends to judge people on their current actions rather than any general ideology, for example - but I have to say I don’t get how tieflings are supposed to be Jewish-coded in Exandria, at all, unless we are either dipping into some pretty unfortunate stereotypes; tieflings are pretty heavily based on like, the mythology of hell and devils, which is explicitly very Christian.

I guess while I’m explaining myself, I’ve found Caduceus’s arc, of someone raised within a small minority tradition, who is still deeply connected to it but is starting to question quite how he fits in, to be very resonant with me - I was raised moderately religious and became less so as an adult, but still find a lot of meaning in some religious rituals. I also find the Wildmother approach to death and dying to be much more in line with Jewish traditions (specifically simple burial, “you are dust and to dust you shall return” as a neutral or positive concept, and an emphasis on the people left behind by death vs. the dead person) than the Raven Queen who always struck me as having a view of death I just could not connect with on any sort of philosophical level. Like, again, I don’t headcanon Jewish characters in traditional D&D settings; it always kind of feels awkward and token-ish, but Caduceus has by far been the character I could relate to the most in terms of religion.

I suspect OP was just having fun with a modern AU or something though; I just found the part about Caduceus so weird because I had the exact opposite feeling that I had to comment.

[petri808]

The Truth is not far from Fiction

@nalu-week bonus day AU prompt. Ghost story, modern setting, 7k words

Based on a real life experience.

One day late in the afternoon, Layla Heartfilia hears talking and pops her head into her toddlers bedroom. She sees the four-year-old playing with a doll in the middle of the floor, just babbling away and smiles. “Who are you talking to Lucy?”

The child’s brown eyes beam at her mother. “Mishi wanna pway wich doll.”

Assuming it was just an imaginary friend, the woman plays along. “I see. And are you being a good girl and sharing your toys?”

“Uh-huh, mommy.”

“That’s a good girl. I’ll be back shortly to get you for dinner, okay, you just keep playing nicely with your friend.”

“Otay,” Lucy giggles and looks at the girl sitting across from her, “Mishi you hungy too? Oh.” She then looks back at her mother, “Mishi say no can eat.”

“Why is that dear?”

“Mishis dead.”

><><><><><><><><><

From all outward appearances, Lucy Heartfilia was just your typical teenage girl. She had her tight-knit group of friends, a girly-girl when she wanted to be, but deep down was just as comfortable hanging with the guys. Fangirling over the latest manga heartthrob or relaxing with a good book were her two favorite things to do, well that and spending time with her best friend slash boyfriend Natsu Dragneel.

Natsu was born and raised in Hawaii whereas Lucy was a transplant to the islands. After her mother’s death, her father moved them to Hilo when the opportunity to invest in some new property developments came about. It was a small town compared to the big city they’d left behind, but it was a beautiful place and Lucy fell in love with it quickly. She knew her mother would have loved it because if there was one thing Layla Heartfilia had instilled in her daughter, it was a love of the stars.

Every cloudless night on the island provided a perfect opportunity for stargazing thanks to the role of the observatories on Mauna Kea; the islands largest volcanic mountain. Nothing brighter than an orange amber glow was allowed by law, cutting down on the amount of light pollution in Hawaii. Lucy loved it and took any opportunity to simply kick back under the stars picking out her favorite constellations.    

It was now the summer of their graduation from high school and the friends wanted to do something together to kick it off. A few options were thrown around, but when the idea of relaxing under the stars came to mind, Lucy suggested a camping trip. Campfires and smores, maybe some hiking, or even better, snuggling after dark. The group was sold.

“Gajeel’s dad said his contact will let us stay at K.O.E.C in volcano for the weekend since it’s not being used during the summer.” Levy McGarden was the first friend Lucy made after moving to the island and Gajeel Redfox was the girl’s boyfriend.

Lucy tips her head in confusion. “Where’s that? I don’t think I’ve heard of it before.”

“Oh,” Levy chuckles, “sometimes I forget you weren’t born here. In elementary school, all the kids are taken camping there. It’s like an educational retreat cause it’s right next to the national park.”

“Ah, gotcha. So, it’s a camping ground?”

“Mmm, sort of. There’s a building and a big grass area and a bonfire pit.  I don’t know the details if they’ll let us use the main building, but it’ll probably be fine if we just set up tents. Gajeel said the guy will give us a key to the gate when we arrive so we can go in and out.”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

Despite her father’s wishes for Lucy to go to a bigger college in the states, she decides to stay local for now, though that still meant relocating to a different island. It was true her decision was partially based on where her boyfriend was also attending school, but Chaminade University had a good reputation as well as the programs she was interested in. Natsu had graduated the year prior and received a football scholarship to attend the University of Manoa.  He’d be home for the summer in just a couple of days and she was excited to spend as much time with him as possible.

Starting fresh in a new place during middle school after leaving all of her friends behind in California can be tough on any young person, so it was really thanks to Levy and Natsu for making her feel so welcomed in Hawaii. On the first day of class Levy had befriended her and introduced Lucy into the group of kids that would stick together all the way from Waiakea Intermediate through Waiakea High. They’re like a second family for the girl who didn’t have any siblings and a father who was too busy to pay much attention.

But that was part of the beauty behind her and Natsu’s relationship. It wasn’t something that happened overnight, rather blossoming over several years from a friendship until one day their friend Gray Fullbuster pointed out they were already a pseudo couple so they might as well just make it official. Whenever Lucy thinks about that moment, it always makes her smile, because Natsu had simply chuckled, asked if she wanted to be his girl, she said yes, and they went on with the conversation as if nothing had changed.

Bright and early on a Friday morning, the group meets up at the local McDonald’s parking lot before the caravan heads out as a group to the Volcano area. Lucy rides with Natsu in his pickup truck, while everyone else were in other vehicles. There were eight of them total on their way for a fun filled weekend out in the countryside. It was the first time Lucy would be spending an extended amount of time in the area. Prior to this trip she’s only visited the park to do the typical tourist things like seeing the Jagger Museum or hiking the sulfur banks.

As they make their way to the area, no matter if the vehicle slows or accelerates, the road ahead blends as Lucy stares out the window. Greens, browns, mixed with multiple colors when they pass buildings. Her mind drifts with it, strangely lulled by an energy she cannot place, nor is even aware of its pull on her. The radio playing becomes a background noise with only the bass beats standing out… the drums especially calling to her and lulling her into a spell.  

“You okay, Luce?” Natsu questions her as she stares out the passenger window. The normally chatting girl was surprisingly quiet through the drive.

Lucy breaks out of her trance and looks over at her boyfriend. “Yeah, sorry I was just spacing out.” She smiles to allay his concerns. “I was so excited for this trip that I didn’t get much sleep.”

He reaches over and squeezes her hand with a smile. “How about I set up the tent first thing so you can take a nap?”

“I think I’ll be okay once we start doing stuff.”

“Whatever you say,” he winks.

She really wanted to enjoy this trip but the closer they got to the area the more a churning knot tightened in her stomach. It was a dubious feeling to place, not sick as if she were coming down with a cold, and she didn’t get motion sickness like her boyfriend, it was more like a foreboding feeling. Though a strange time to kick in, she had been a little stressed out about going off to college in the fall, so perhaps it was just a case of nerves.

That must be it, Lucy chalks up the weird feelings and rationalizes them as nothing more than a case of the jitters. Going away from home to a new place was a scary proposition, but she reminds herself she won’t be totally alone. Natsu will be on the island and so will Cana Alberona another close friend. And hey, thanks to the internet, those like Levy will be a simple click away too. She takes a deep breath and releases the churning emotions. It was time to focus on this camping trip and make it memorable.

When the caravan of vehicles pulls into the parking area, everyone waits with their vehicles while Gajeel settles up with the caretaker. Once that was complete, the group starts the task of setting up their gear. They break up the work, with the men focusing on the bigger jobs, erecting the tents, tables, and carrying the heavier items. The girls follow up with the sleeping bags, getting the food and other supplies squared away.

It was a nice place, just like Levy had described to Lucy. To the left of the parking lot was a large main building that housed expansive rooms used as classrooms. Downstairs were restrooms and showers, along with maintenance rooms. The caretaker had turned on the hot water and electricity for them to use on the bottom level, but the upstairs rooms were locked for security purposes. There was also security lighting around the building and on the street, but from what Lucy could gauge, once the sun goes down, the area would be quite dark. Good thing they brought a bunch of lanterns and flashlights.

In front of the building and parking lot, it opened up into a sprawling grassy area surrounded by trees. Beyond the trees were homes and subdivisions. At the very edge of the lawn, Lucy could see the bonfire area her friend had mentioned tucked in a corner. According to the caretaker, it was no longer used for full bonfires due to the threat of starting a forest fire, but they were allowed to make a small, normal sized campfire for doing things like roasting marshmallows or for warmth. The pit was also ringed with fallen Ohia tree logs to sit on.

The place was serene alright… but why was that nagging feeling eating away at her? As she stared towards the bon fire area, every fiber of her being was screaming at her to stay away from it. She didn’t like the vibes this place was giving off, which made absolutely no sense to her. It looked completely safe and quiet, they brought children here to camp for Pete’s sakes! Surely, the county wouldn’t allow visitors if this place wasn’t safe.

A shiver rushes along Lucy’s frame despite the lack of a breeze. Maybe she was just psyching herself out, so she turns away from the pit and focuses on something that did make her feel safe. Natsu had just finished setting up their tent. It was time for her to get their bedding down so they could settle in. Perfect, she could do that.

“So, how do you like it?” Natsu asks her as soon as she walks over to him. “Nice, right?”

“It’s a really scenic place,” Lucy agrees. She didn’t want to concern or spook him with her true thoughts of the place. “Is the tent ready?”

“Yup,” he grins, “pretty sure it won’t cave in.”

She chuckles, “I’ll get our sleeping bags and stuff set up.”

Natsu pulls her close and wraps his arms around her waist. “Just make sure I’ve got easy access to ya,” he wiggles his eyebrows. “After six months apart, I need to make up for lost time.”

That brings a flush to her cheeks and a giggle from the woman. “I think I can figure something out.”

He places a soft, lingering kiss on Lucy’s lips. “Remind me again how I managed to make you my girl?”

Lucy grins coyly, “by being an adorable dork.”

“Dork? Says the weirdo,” he chuckles and kisses her again. “Okay, you get cracking on this and I’ll be back in a bit after we set up the campfire for tonight.”

She just nods and watches him walk away for a moment, before turning her attention to the tent. Natsu had even added an additional tarp over the top in case it rained, how thoughtful and smart considering the weather here could turn without warning. Everyone had set up their tents, five in total, at distances from each other. Lucy chuckles in her head, knowing they weren’t the only ones with a little hanky-panky on the agenda.

Instead of using the sleeping bags as they were designed for, she unzips the two sets completely open, using one as the bottom and one as the blanket, finishing off their makeshift bed with the pillows. She then takes the bags that holds their clothing and toiletries and places it in the corner of the tent. Lastly, she double checks that their lantern was working properly and stores it near the entrance, so it was easy to turn on when needed.

With their accommodations ready, she could relax a little while she waited for Natsu to return. Since she didn’t know how long it would take the men to finish, Lucy decides to lay down and close her eyes. He’d suggested she take a short nap, and well, it seemed like a good idea now.

The moment she closes her eyes, the sunlight fades away behind her eyelids as her body slowly gives in. ‘This sleeping bag… is really comfortable…’ She felt peaceful, a sense of stilling calm like in the eye of a hurricane. The blue skies brought warmth streaming through the thin nylon fabric of the tent, pacifying the nervous pin pricks licking along her frame. Is that music playing somewhere? Lucy wonders as the edge of oblivion comes calling... Does someone have their bass cranked up?  

‘Did I sleep the afternoon away?’ Lucy looks around as the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge and the sickening feeling pitted in her stomach tightens. Something’s wrong, her mind screams. Where was the tent?! Why was she in the forest?! Where did everyone go? She was taking a nap and suddenly she was in the middle of the dark Ohia forest.

It was deathly silent save for the drumbeats and chanting getting louder— so loud that she felt it in her bones. No other signs of life, of crickets or coqui frogs, nor distant sounds of the homes she knew were laid out around the campsite. Only the drowning of drumbeats and the word kapu (sacred) repeated over and over. She covers her ears in a useless attempt to shield them from the noise, but it was as if they were coming from inside her head.

‘Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!’ Her voice cracked and trembling, desperate to get away from the torment. Fight or flight takes hold and she starts to back away, but her legs feel like rubber, her feet like dead weight. She looks down as a silent scream bubbles up in her throat. Why is her feet sinking into the mud! The ground had been solid a second ago!

She opens her mouth to cry out for Natsu, anybody, but no sound leaves her. Panic sets in, sending her mind into a tailspin, and energy surges through her body. She claws at her throat in desperation, why wasn’t her voice coming out! Her mind is begging for someone to please hear her screams. Natsu! Where was Natsu?!

Something grabs her from behind and her arms begin flailing out desperate to fight back.

“Lucy, wake up!”

“Natsu!” The blonde screams, kicking and punching as she sits straight up on the bedding. Still in a panicked fight for her life, she scrambles away until her back hits the wall of the tent. Her brain is struggling to take back control from the dreamworld, but the sounds were all she could hear roaring in her eardrums.

The hold around her center felt as if something very strong and powerful was squeezing the life out of her. All she could hear in her head were her own screams and that incessant drumbeat! Make it stop! Make it stop! The tears are pouring down, clouding her vision and marring the scene in front of her. Get me out of here!

“Lucy, Lucy!” Natsu grabs hold of her wrists to keep her from hitting him. “It’s a dream, Lucy, you’re okay now.” His own panic was rising faster than a flood. Why wasn’t she responding to him? Her eyes are open, but she was staring past him as if he didn’t exist just screaming for help.

“Lucy?” He feels what he can only equate to as sticking your hand in an electrical socket. His hands start to tingle and the air around them heats up. “W-What the hell is going on?!” Natsu squeaks out as a true fear takes hold. He could understand daymares, but this… this was abnormal!  

She thrashes against his hold for a few more seconds, shaking her head as tears pour in torrents down her cheeks. But despite the eerie shocks Lucy was giving him, he holds on tight until the opportunity presents itself to pull her into a fierce bear hug. Natsu had no idea what had set this off, so he fights off his own panic and does what he can, cooing and speaking softly to calm her. He couldn’t tell if his voice even had any weight behind it, but it was all he could muster.

“Shhh, babe I got ya now. Whatever it was, you’re safe.”

Natsu cradles her head, keeping it locked against his chest. There are footsteps around the tent along with a few ‘are you guys okay’ being asked. He responds that it was just a bad dream and not to worry. Lucy must have been much more tired than they’d realized for her to fall asleep so deeply and enter the dream stage in less than 30 minutes. He and Gray had only completed a third of the firepit when Levy had come to get him. The woman had heard distressing sounds coming from his girlfriend and they’d been enough to concern her.

Though Lucys mind was coming out of the dream world, and reality was taking hold again, a heavier panic sets in. How was she supposed to explain this to him? There was something about her life that she’d kept secret from everyone for fear of being looked at as a freak, and most of the time it wasn’t a problem to keep it hidden. Lucy fights to gain back control and to stop shaking. ‘It was just a dream Lucy,’ she tries to psyche up the lie in her head. ‘Nothing paranormal about a dream. It’s the stress manifesting itself.’ She didn’t want to worry anyone.

She takes several long, slow, deep breaths until the panic attack starts to wane. “Thank you, Natsu I-I’m fine now. I’m so sorry. I think all the anxiety of college is just getting to me.”

“No need to apologize Lucy, leaving home is scary. But you know I’ll be there for you right?”

“Yeah,” she cracks a smile. “I know you will be.”

“That was a pretty crazy dream though. Do you remember what it was about?”

Kapu… “No,” she shakes her head as if accentuating the word, but in reality, wishing the sounds echoing in her head would disappear.

“Okay.” His gut tells him not to push the topic until she was ready. Natsu kisses her forehead, “well if you do and you wanna talk about it, I’m all ears.” He smiles at her, “hey, why don’t you go wash your face, catch your breath, and maybe hang out with the girls to distract yourself while I finish up what I was doing?”

Lucy nods, “That’s a good idea.”

Of course, the moment she sat down with her concerned friends they bombarded her with questions about the daymare. Cana the ever-budding ‘spiritualist’ of the group pressing for information so she could discern the meanings behind what Lucy had seen. But she feigned not remembering anything once she’d been awoken by Natsu. She didn’t want to remember, rather forget it had ever happened. So, she falls back to the same excuse she’d used for him. Why not? At least if it were a consistent lie it would be easier to keep up.

“Are you sure Lu?” Levy reaches over and places a hand on her friends knee, “cause the way you were screaming… I swear even I was getting chills.”

“You literally sounded like you were being murdered.”

“Blunt enough, Cana?” Levy rolls her eyes. “She doesn’t need to be freaked out any more than necessary.”

“I really appreciate you’re guys concern, but I swear I’m fine now. I don’t remember what it was about and if it’s as bad as you’re saying, I’m glad I don’t remember.”

Levy fixes Lucy with a stare. “At least promise me if it happens again, you’ll talk to me.”

“I promise.” Lucy smiles back hoping to allay her friends concerns. “I think my nerves are just fried over college.”

To Lucy’s relief the rest of the group quickly switched into that topic. Juvia Lockser, Gray’s girlfriend was already a Sophomore in college, but she and the others shared their feelings of anxiety. It turns out they all felt similar to her, maybe even more so. Levy and Cana were born and raised in Hilo and had never travelled outside of the state before. Juvia is a transplant like Lucy except she came here for college from Seattle, Washington. It was only after meeting Gray at the University last year that she was folded into their group.      

“Lemme see if I can explain it,” Levy taps her chin. “A lot of islanders feel like they’re stuck here— okay maybe not stuck, but like… they don’t wanna leave their comfort zone. So, going away for college is really nerve wracking, that’s why I’m really anxious about it and excited at the same time.”

“Speak for yourself,” Cana chimes in, “I’m nervous sure, but I can’t wait to go to Honolulu! First thing I plan to do is hit the clubs! And I plan to drag you with me Lu.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Lucy waves her hands excitedly while laughing, “don’t drag me into that!”

“Aww, come on, think about it! I’ll get you all hot and bothered and unleash you on Natsu.” Cana winks, “I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“OMG!” Lucy throws a handful of ripped grass at her friend as the other girls burst into laughter.

It’s not long in chatting with the girls that Lucy’s fears subside and the daymare is semi-forgotten. They talk about the rest of their plans for the weekend, like how tomorrow will be spent in the park checking out the latest volcanic activity and hiking the trails. Someone needs to stay behind to watch the camp, so Cana and Loke de Lioncourt agree to do it. Their reasoning is let the couples have fun exploring, but everyone else knows that the pair wanted some “fun time” to themselves.

Things were still quiet for Lucy by the time the men finish prepping the fire pit. The girls had made a simple lunch of sandwiches for the gang, so the guys join the conversation and things continue to flow smoothly into a relaxing afternoon. With Natsu by her side, Lucy feels an additional calming energy and that helps to settle the remnants of creepy sensations she was still having. She didn’t know how of why he was having that effect on her but welcomed it regardless.  

No matter where you go, there are spirits and because of her abilities, Lucy did what she could to acclimate to her surroundings. After moving to the islands, she familiarized herself with local legends and lore, about the gods and aumakua’s (spirit guardians), and so much more. There were tons of spirits here. But that didn’t mean she knew everything or when or where she may encounter them, and she certainly was no expert in how to deal with it. There’s no training manual for this stuff. The lucky ones find someone to mentor them, but beyond picking up tidbits where she could, Lucy worked by intuition most of the time.

After the incident in the tent, Natsu’s instincts were heightened. He couldn’t get a good read on what Lucy was thinking or feeling, but he could tell something was bothering her despite her downplays. But unless she was willing to tell him, he could only guess why her energy was spiking in an unusual manner and as darkness approached it was only increasing.

He watches her closely and starts to notice more troubling signs. Clearly, she was trying to hide them, but her mood was starting to change from engaged to removed. Where she was chatting normally at lunch, Lucy had slowed to only answering when spoken to. It was as if her mind was elsewhere and her energy level was waning. It reminded him of her behavior in the truck on their way to the site. Was it returning again?

“Here you go,” Natsu hands Lucy a plate of dinner. The group had barbecued some meat and thanks to the buildings electricity were able to make rice for a starch.

“Thanks,” she smiles, though the look behind it gave off a disinterested vibe.

Lucy had been holding her arm around her stomach as if it were bothering her. He’d just hoped she would say something if that were the case, but she never had. He sits down beside her, eating, and continuing his vigil. Was Lucy getting paler, or was it just the waning light? Even her eyes seemed dimmer.

“Are you feeling ill, you don’t look well.” Natsu finally whispers hoping not to gain attention from the group.

“Huh? Why?”

“You just look a little peaked is all.”

“I don’t know,” Lucy picks at the contents of her plate, “maybe I’m still tired… I kinda feel zapped all of a sudden.” She was feeling ill, as if an unexpected flu was kicking in, but she didn’t want to admit it. Her stomach was queasy, and her head was starting to get dizzy.  

“If you’re not feeling well, I don’t mind taking you home.”

“No, no,” she shakes her head determined to push through this bout. “I don’t wanna ruin your weekend.” But shaking her head was a bad idea and now she really felt dizzy. Why was this happening now? She’d been perfectly fine when they were in Hilo.

“Luce, helping my girl out isn’t gonna ruin my weekend.”

“Are you sure? Because…” her voice trails out and eyes roll back seconds before Lucy collapses forward. She never had a chance to finish.

The next 30 seconds is like a slow-motion scenes in a movie. Her name is screamed, and gasps ring out. Natsu reacts on instinct, dropping his plate and shooting his hand out to grab her before she face plants onto the ground. Everyone around them is on their feet in a flash, rushing over for support. When he lands partially under Lucy, Gajeel and Gray help him to get back into a sitting position with the unconscious woman still cradled in his lap.  

Natsu could feel a dark energy gathering around her that hadn’t been there before, triggering electrical sensations along his skin, similar to what he’d felt in the tent. This was not good… not good at all! Whatever had affected Lucy earlier in the day was intensifying. “I better get her to the hospital, somethings not right!” He scoops the unconscious woman up and gets to his feet.

Gray reaches out to support some of Lucy’s weight as Natsu stands up. “Yeah, man, do what you gotta do.”

“And don’t worry about your stuff, we’ll take care of it,” Gajeel chimes in. “You just worry about you’re woman.”

Levy places a hand on Natsu’s arm, her eyes clouded and barely holding back the pain of her concern. This was her best friend. With such an eventful afternoon, every worst-case scenario was running through her mind. Was Lucy sick? What kind of illness could strike a healthy young woman down so quickly? “Please call us as soon as you find out what’s wrong, okay, promise me.”

“Will do, Lev, I promise. Thanks guys.”

As Natsu secures Lucy into his truck, the girls grab the couple’s personal belongings like Lucy’s purse and a duffle bag of clothing for him. The camping gear, tent and such will be safe in the care of their friends. He was doing all he could to stay calm because the last thing he needed was to lose control and wreck his truck or something. When he climbs in and starts up the vehicle, he notices Lucy starting to stir a little. She was strapped in so she wouldn’t fall over, and her body stayed slumped, but her head was working to hold itself up. “Lucy? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah…” she mumbles with her eyes closed.

“I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“What… happened?”

“You collapsed.”

Once he makes it out of the country roads and clears the forest, the truck roars it down the highway. Natsu wanted to get Lucy to the hospital as quickly as possible since it was about 40-50 miles away. Lucy was healthy, so he was concerned with the speed this illness had hit her, fast and hard.

He keeps his eyes on the road but checks on the woman in his passenger seat every few seconds. When they’d put her in the truck, she was barely ambulatory and coherent. Lucy still had her eyes closed as she rested her head in the crook of the door frame and seat. She was breathing normally as far as he could tell and at least her arm had relaxed away from clenching around her abdomen.

If he didn’t know better, it was as if Lucy had fallen asleep again. But the longer he watched, the more he could tell the situation was changing. After 10 minutes of driving and reaching the Fern forest area, she had shifted in the seat, stretching out her legs and sitting upright.

“How ya feeling Lucy?”

“A little better,” she responds. It was strange, but the heavy pressure she had felt back at the camp was slowly lifting the further they got away from it. Her body still felt tired as if all the energy had been sucked from it, but at least the foreboding vibes were melting away and she could breathe easier again. It was a complete reversal of how she felt going to the area.

“That’s good to hear.” It wasn’t just her words that brought him some relief. Natsu could sense the shift. The aura around her was no longer as dark as it had been at the camp.

Another 10 minutes or so passes by and they’d reached the town of Mountain View. Here Natsu was forced to slow down due to a slower speed limit and higher traffic flow. They come to a red traffic signal, so he takes the opportunity to make a better assessment of his girlfriend. Not only was Lucy’s eyes open, but they looked bright and her skin wasn’t as pale anymore. She was sitting fully upright just looking around as if taking in the view. Certainly not the look of someone being rushed to the hospital.

“Could we stop and grab food,” Lucy asks out of the blue when they’re about to hit Keaau town. He turns and looks to see her smiling at him. “I’m really hungry all of a sudden.”

“Um, yeah sure,” his eyebrow raises in confusion, “we could stop at McDonalds.”

“Great!”

“You know,” he pauses, “you seem a lot better Lucy, like completely normal and that’s kind of freaking me out.”

Lucy averts her eyes and her lips curve down in a small frown. “I’m really sorry for worrying you Natsu.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“I don’t really like to talk about it…”

“Well I think I deserve to know considering you just scared the hell out of me Luce.”

She sighs, “You’re right— I-I don’t know exactly what happened back there, but there is something I haven’t told you or anyone else.”

Natsu can see the moisture building in her eyes, she was clearly torn and upset over whatever it was. He wasn’t angry that she’d withheld something from him, maybe a little annoyed, but he assumed she had a good reason for it. Lucy was never one to lie to him, so this must be a big deal to her. “You know I’d never judge you, right? You can tell me anything.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” she sighs again. “You don’t need to take me to the hospital, there’s nothing medically wrong with me.”

“Are you sure?”

Lucy nods. “Can we grab food and go back to your house? Then I’ll come clean… a-about everything.”

He picks up her hand and kisses it, nodding before turning off into the shopping complex’s parking lot. They order food through the drive through, then set off for his parent’s house in Hilo. It takes them about 20 more minutes to arrive and after giving a half-hearted explanation of cutting their trip short to his parents, the pair settle upstairs in Natsu’s bedroom.

Starving had been an understatement as Natsu watched Lucy inhale her burger. Normally he would finish meals first and would have to wait for her to catch up. It was eye opening, and probably the first time in all the years they’ve known each other he’s witnessed it. Of course, the whole day has been filled with new experiences with her, and this was the least concerning of it all.

With her food gone, Lucy pushes herself up and sits back against his headboard contemplating exactly how she should explain things to Natsu. She didn’t know why she was so worried about telling him, since he’s never been judgmental before. In fact, he often teased that he found her quirks endearing. But this wasn’t exactly normal. For his part, Natsu just sat on the bed in front of her in a cross-legged position, patiently waiting.

With her fingers fidgeting in her lap and her eyes boring holes into his comforter, Lucy starts out with a question of her own. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Never seen one before, but I believe it’s not impossible for them to exist.” He shifts in his position to let his legs stretch out and props himself with his arms behind his back. “I mean growing up here and being bombarded by the culture kind of gave me an open mind to it.”

“W-What if I told you that I’ve been able to see them since I was a kid? Would you think I’m weird?”

“You mean weirder than I already think you are? No,” he chuckles, “I wouldn’t.”

“I’m serious!” she pouts.

“So am I,” Natsu laughs harder. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he leans forward and pats her foot, his expression softening. “I’m just trying to show you that it doesn’t bother me. I’m not making fun of you, I promise. Is that what is was back there, a ghost?”

Lucy shakes her head. “I don’t think it was a regular ghost, and I still don’t fully understand what happened.”

“How about starting from the beginning. You were distracted before we even got to the place.”

“It was strange… like, as we drove into the area, I was getting a creepy feeling, you know, like when the hair stands up on the back of your neck? I tried to ignore it, but it only grew stronger once we reached the site. I kept telling myself it was nerves and then that daymare happened.” Lucy didn’t want to admit it, but in hindsight all the warning bells were there, and she’d chosen to ignore them. The creepy feelings, the energy drains, that daymare… If she’d listened to her instincts, she could have invoked a protection barrier. Of course, with how strong the energy source had been, she didn’t know if it would have worked, but trying would have been better than nothing.

“Yeah, the daymare. Do you remember it?”

She squeezes her eyes shut still wishing she couldn’t, but nods, “I do.” Sometimes her abilities came in handy and other times it was more like a curse. Lucy couldn’t see ghosts, but she could feel them, hear them, and being a sensitive attracted them to her. Most were benign, simply stuck in this realm, while others were angry and strong enough to affect the living world. As a sensitive, Lucy was more likely to become a target because just as she could sense them, they could sense her.

“Are you up to telling me? You don’t have to if you don’t want to cause you were pretty freaked out about it.”

“I should…”

Natsu realizes just thinking about it is triggering a small panic attack again. He sees her body start to shiver and shake. “H-Hey,” he quickly crawls over, pulls her into his lap and cradles her. “Don’t force yourself.”

“No, I-I want to. Maybe if I let it out, i-it’ll help.” Lucy releases an exhale. “I was in the forest hearing all these drumbeats and chanting and it was getting louder.” Her hands cover her ears as if she was re-living the dream. “I was so confused, no idea how I got there. My feet started to sink into the ground, and I couldn’t fight back when something grabbed me. I-I started to panic and the word kapu kept ringing in my head. I was screaming for you, for anyone… ugh the drums! A-and that’s when I woke up.”

He moves her hands away from her ears and tightens his embrace in a bid to make her feel safe again.

“After you calmed me down, I was able to forget about it for a while. I figured it was just a bad dream and moved on. But then during dinner I started to feel drained, like all my energy was being sucked away. I tried to ignore it thinking I was just tired and the next thing I knew, I woke up in the truck.”

“And this has never happened to you before?”

She shakes her head no. “At least not this bad before.” This wasn’t the first time Lucy had encountered an area heavy with spiritual energy. The islands were rife with it, but this was the first time that it had affected her to this extent.

“So, it has happened before?”

“Sort of… like once before when I went to a place that I learned later has evil spirits.” Lucy relaxes a little. “Best I can explain it, is when there’s really strong energies around me, it makes me feel weird, like zapped. Maybe there were powerful spirits around the camping area.” A chill runs along her spine causing her to shiver. “Definitely not going back to that place again.” Lucy looks up at Natsu. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

“Far from it.” He hugs her tighter. “You just have a gift and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Lucy snorts a laugh, “can I return this gift?”

“Mmmm,” he chuckles too, “probably not. But you know, you’re not alone, right? I mean, you’re the only person I know that’s actually seen stuff, but as far as being sensitive, you’re not the only one. My mom says that I have a little bit of empathic abilities. I don’t know,” he shrugs, “I just know I pick up on how people are feeling around me. That’s why I kept asking if you were okay.”

“Wow,” her eyes widen, “I had no idea.”

“Yeah, cause I don’t advertise it,” Natsu laughs. “The guys know about me, but it’s not something I talk about to others.”

She sighs, “guess we were both hiding something from each other.”

“I won’t hold it against you, if you won’t hold it against me.”

“Thank you Natsu.” Lucy leans up and kisses him softly. She cups his cheek in her hands, “I really appreciate you being so understanding.”

He places his hand over hers, eyes smiling, just holding the special moment. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He then pulls her head against his shoulder.

Lucy settles happily on his lap just relieved that the whole ordeal was over. It was disheartening that she wouldn’t get to hang out with their friends this weekend but having Natsu with her was enough for now. They still had the rest of the summer to spare.

While she recuperated in his arms, Natsu sends a text to Gray and Levy explaining what happened. To his surprise the girl sends a message back saying she may know what Lucy was experiencing. There was a Hawaiian legend from the volcano area that may explain it. So, he calls Levy and puts her on speakerphone.

According to the girls readings, during the time King Kamehameha the First was working to unify all of the islands, many battles took place with local chiefs, including in the volcano area. Legend holds that sometimes spirits of deceased soldiers will continue to march in death. Such ‘Night Marchers’ have been seen right around the area where K.O.E.C. is located. They come out at specific times, which Levy had no idea when that could be. But perhaps, that was the source of what affected Lucy?

It was as good a guess as any.

Levy, “Some say that if the living encounters them, unless there is an aumakua in the procession of marchers to protect that person, they can become ill or even die from exposure. Course no one’s ever verified any of that.”

“I remember reading about the night marchers. I always thought it was exaggerated like a lot of claims are.” Lucy frowns, “but it sure explains what I might have been sensing.” She’d studied local lore because it was interesting to her and the culture in Hawaii made it fairly easy to research things. Stories of ancient tales and ghostly encounters abound here, but there was so much information, it wasn’t always easy to tell fact from fiction.

“Do you think they were warning you or something?” Natsu questions. “Cause it wasn’t even fully nighttime yet and I heard they come out later in the evening.”

“Ugh,” Lucy groans, “I have no idea because I really don’t fully understand all this stuff yet. Like I said, I thought night marchers were just folklore, so I never believed all the stories. But thanks Levy, knowing what it might have been makes me feel a lot better that I wasn’t going crazy.”

Levy, “Aww, you’re welcome Lu! It’s kind of late to pack it in for the night, but everyone agrees we rather find somewhere else to camp so you guys can join us for the rest of the weekend.”

“Wow, really? That’ll be so great!”

Levy, “Of course! It’s always better when everyone’s together. Take care you guys, and don’t worry about us. I’ll text you as soon as we figure out the plan.”

Natsu hangs up the phone and bundles Lucy close. “So, what’dya say? Spend the night here with me?”

“Your parents won’t mind?”

“Pfft, my parents love you. Just kinda bummed we can’t… you know,” he grins.

“I’m just as bummed about that too,” she teases, “but there’s always tomorrow.” Lucy cuddles against him and closes her eyes. Natsu’s energy was so soothing to her and now she knew why. It was kind of amusing that she ended up with a guy who had gifts like her, albeit a different one. Still, it made her feel normal for once in her entire life. “Thank you again Natsu, you know, for everything.”

He kisses the top of her head and leans his against hers. “You’re welcome, weirdo.”

“Yeah, well a weirdo you’re stuck with.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

><><><>Notes<><><><

Much of the spookier elements are based off an experience I had when I was around the age of 11 when we were taken to this location for a school trip. By the end of the day I was getting so sick a chaperone had to take me home, but just like in the story, once we were away from the area, I was completely fine. I’ve had many experiences over the years, this one isn’t even the scariest. No idea how you label me, all I know is I am sensitive, possibly an empath, I absorb and affect energy. I don’t actually see spirits, I just sense them and generally unless they are strong like those in this story, they don’t bother me or can’t because I can repel them now. Oh, and the reason I made Natsu have something too is just because lol. My husband actually sees stuff, and I think it’s ironic that I picked someone that has gifts too. 

[lady-plantagenet]

Tumblr History Ask meme, No. 30! (An AU where George was never executed but Edward IV still dies at 40, and his sons both die of the plague or sweating sickness, leaving GEORGE to be King of England! what think you? 😆)

Hohoho ho. I have a lot of thoughts on this. Hell I even wrote an entire fictional AU series on AO3 on this topic - you can find it here (please R&R I’m desperate). So yes sorry for the late reply and I really hope you enjoy my usual bursting out in an essay (as per usual). Mwah x

Without speaking about it anymore and spoiling I’ll just answer your ask straight. Ok so George becomes king. Princes dead or not this may still cause issues because technically speaking Elizabeth of York has a stronger claim to the throne (Edward IV recognised the same in 1469 and before presenting her as his true heir presumptive not George).

While on a practical level George would easily be able to hold the throne against Elizabeth of York (who on her own did not command enough support to overthrow Richard III despite the illegitimacy rumours not really being considered as true by most), if Elizabeth married and got a son it would wreak havoc. Everytime King George fails in any way people will look at Elizabeth’s son as an alternative. Sure he could pull a King John I and keep her unmarried under house arrest until the end of her days (what happened to his niece Eleanor of Brittany) but how will he manage to do this will all 5 sisters?

There are many things to consider, for one, George was popular in London and if there was an outspread plague and he gave the princes a state burial I really think people could believe him that they were not murdered. Not to mention under these circumstances, Richard III would be the protector so the blame would fall on him anyway - pretty excellent for George id say. Hell he could even use the kid’s death as some sort of God’s divine judgment propaganda against his brother’s reign. He would need to continue denigrating Edward because his daughters (as explained above) will continue to be an issue. He would most likely continue with the ‘Edward IV was a bastard’ rumour. Otherwise, George could use the ‘by law I’m Lancaster’s heir’ as some sort of further support his reign and why he can overreach his nieces and their sons.

Another question remains ~ is Isabel dead or not? Assuming you mean this is 1483 and she dies, I am certain George would get remarried once he becomes king because while his part in the Mary of Burgundy marriage shamaz remains unclear I think what it shows is that he was more likely than not to want to remarry. This need would further increase if he became king because two young children (only one of which is a boy) is no secure line of succession. George took no decisive steps to get married to Mary upon his brother’s refusal (eg scheming for a dispensation or trying to go abroad) so I will assume that in this timeline George remains unmarried until 1483 and Mary dies in 1482 as canon. Mary (and his sister Margaret behind her) would have gained him great support in keeping the throne, England and Burgundy would have pretty much united (if Edward of Warwick died prematurely and George and Mary’s son became the next king) and England may have become the dominating European power as opposed to the Habsburg empire.

However since Mary is out of question, I can’t think of some other foreign Princess at that time that would have brought with her considerable power. George seems to have had no wish to war with France so that’s nice. I can’t say that Louis XI had great admiration for him but his place in the Picquiny committee (one of the four) implies that France trusted that he would keep the peace. George (mostly because of Warwick) was hated in Burgundy but Margaret clearly would have guided Maximilian (Mary’s real husband who took up control after she died) towards good relations with England and given Maximilian’s support of the York Pretenders in Henry VII’s reign I think he was the type of man who had no strong opinions towards any individual in England so would have been fine with it.

Anything else is difficult to say. George was described by Hicks (who is very very un-pop-history in his biography/PhD thesis of George) as a man ultimately unsuited to his role because of his temperament. His actions even before Isabel’s death do suggest something like that but the way he was after her death (Dec 1476 - May/June 1477) was just so uncharacteristically erratic and one-after-another that many people (including me) think it was him becoming unstabilised by his wife’s death as opposed to a reflection of his general fortitude and decision-making capabilities. So I ask: was it a phase he would have gotten out of by 1483 or was he permanently going to stay this way even if he did get remarried? I don’t think he was mad - certainly not, but a bit perturbed definitely and I don’t know how it would affect some aspects of his reign eg being merciful, pardoning people who’ve done him wrong, giving patronage of influence to his ministers... etc. However, if he did get out of this phase (or at least calmed down a bit by 1483) I think he could have genuinely been a good king. His role as a regional magnate shows him as generous, pious, eloquent, handsome, popular, refined, extremely knowledgeable of the law and good at peace-weaving. On a downside he also seemed inflexible in his approach, disproportionately harsh on certain penalties (eg Poaching), quick to act in certain aspects yet full of procrastinative habits in others, prideful, vengeful, susceptible to flattery, suspicious and with something suggestive of an overly superstitious personality.

Nevertheless, it is one thing to be a baron and another thing to be king. George had become quite detached from the national stage (let alone the international) towards the end of his life so he would have a lot of catching up to do. And as always is the issue with a king coming from the nobility and not the crown directly, there may be factional issues and the Neville affinity might expect certain favours and privelages from him especially since his heir Edward comes from their line. As we know, Neville support for George waned after Isabel’s death but the few that remained would expect great favour from him - this being at odds with those who were in power during Edward IV’s reign eg William Hastings, Anthony Woodville etc. After all, they really saw him as their earl (Rous speaks of him in the same terms as he spoke of his predecessors the Beauchamps).

George would inherit a country full of administrative issues and as much as I believe he was genuinely concerned with ‘the common weale’ and deserved all the praise given to him by his contemporaries, I see him falling into the same trap as Edward IV. Circumstances would likely force him to strengthen the crown’s authority and people would call him a hypocrite for this. Otherwise, he would let himself become a small centre around which others revolve but I don’t know if his pride would allow that either. Nevertheless, I think he would lead England into the ‘renaissance’ culturally. He would continue patronising the printing press, continue with the previous monarchs’ cultural endowments of colleges, churches and such (as he had done in his own lands), he would also share in Edward’s popularity with the city and trade (he gave great privileges to his burgesses says Rous, his permanent retinue had burgesses in them and many other stuff point to him respecting the place of trade) - though he wouldn’t engage in them because (as according to Hicks and others) he didn’t have a good business sense. This could go at odds against him most likely attempting to retain military retention privelages to the barons which in itself was a factor which worked against the development of a early modern state. This is the odd thing about George, in some ways he appears beyond his time and in other behind his time. All we can hope is that Warwick had tried to cultivate him a bit in national leadership and that it stayed with him.

Will he reign peacefully or get deposed? It could go either way but I am certain his reign would be filled with problems. If he gets his own Bosworth (with his niece’s sons or Henry Tudor) I think he would get romanticised as the last Plantagenet king in case of the latter because unlike Richard III he wouldn’t have nephew killing as his issue. A saving grace of George was that he was a master propagandist so I have bit of faith in his posterity and image and I think it could have made his reign flow more smoothly to a degree.

[joon-ipersgirl]

O3 - “don’t leave me”

genre: strangers to lovers!au, angst, fluff

pairing: jimin x reader (f)

summary: they say home is where the heart is. you’re convinced yours was taken the day your father died. until you meet jimin. 

you believe in love but after watching men cycle through your mother’s arms, rocky relations with ex-boyfriends, and broken friendships, you no longer see it in your future. so much so, you never settle in one place long enough to create ties and call it home, choosing a job where you’re always on the go and on your own. 

on a chance encounter on a flight from new york city to bali, indonesia, you meet. flustered by jimin’s flirty advances but understanding and good-natured tendencies, you start to fall. what starts off as a work-trip soon blossoms into a budding romance, but will jimin’s secret destroy the relationship before it’s had the chance to truly begin?

word count: 10.6k.. lmao

warnings: mentions of anxiety, cursing

a/n: wow it’s been some weeks. school and work are kicking my ass but thank you to that anon who asked if i was still writing. i am. i’m doing my best to balance everything but your comment seriously motivated me to find some time to post this and it is a hell of a long part so i hope that makes up for the semi-hiatus. the next part is my fave part to date and i hope to have that up soon. seriously, all your comments mean the world to me so send them in, even if you think it’s something super small! you could be the difference between something be posted or not lol. anywhooo. thank you again for reading and vi for being my editor in chief. enjoy! :)

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

It was the additional warmth that alerted you that something was wrong. The fogginess of sleep wrestled with your consciousness as your body slowly woke up, the former forcing sleep to tap out. Your legs were cramped beneath you in the seat as you’d curled into yourself, the thin blanket tucked up under your chin like a butterfly in a cocoon. All of these were quite normal, except for the soft material underneath your cheek instead of the scratchy cover of the airline seat. Lifting your head from your makeshift pillow, your eyes focused on the smooth skin of Jimin’s neck. You jerked away, smacking your head against the curve of the airplane. Jimin groaned and turned to face you, his eyes still closed but his eyebrows furrowed.

“Jimin!” you hissed, shoving his shoulder away from you. His upper body was still pressed against your knees. “Get up!”

He finally opened his eyes, confusion was written on his face as he squinted from the soft lights filtering into the plane. Jimin shifted back over to his seat and you sighed in relief, still rubbing the back of your head in an attempt to soothe the sore spot. He shoved his hood from his head and ran his fingers through the soft waves of his hair, a few tufts sticking up out of place.

“Why are you yelling?” he groaned, holding his hands in his head. “It’s early as fuck.”

“I wasn’t yelling. And you were crushing me,” you huffed, attempting to stretch your legs out.

“You weren’t complaining a few moments ago,” he countered, his usual grin looking more adorable as he struggled to fully wake up.

You pursed your lips in irritation. It didn’t seem to take Jimin long to be back on his bullshit, even if he had just woken up. He stretched beside you, toned arms coming up above his head, the hem of his hoodie rising along with them. You turned your head back to the window, not wanting to be caught staring again. So much for avoiding cuddling into his nice, warm body. If he asked, you’d just blame it on the cold air of the plane.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our final descent to Hong Kong International Airport. Please secure your tray tables and return your seats to their full upright position. We will be coming through to collect any trash you may still have. Thank you.”

You gasped as you realized you’d overslept and missed the opportunity to have your morning coffee. You rubbed your forehead, already feeling the symptoms of withdrawal hitting you. The in-flight monitor showed that it was almost 10 am in New York, meaning you were already one cup of coffee behind schedule. You could only pray that it wouldn’t take long for the next set of passengers to board and the in-flight services could begin again before your impatience truly reared its ugly head.

Shoving open the little plane window cover, you watched as the cityscape of Hong Kong came into view. The bright lights of the tall skyscrapers looked like lighthouses perched on the corner of cliffs and you awed at its modern beauty. It was almost as breathtaking as flying into New York City. You pulled your phone from your sweatpants’ pocket and took a video as the plane banked left, your brain not too bogged down to recognize a money-making shot when you saw one.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Jimin whispered over your shoulder, his voice rough from sleep. You nodded, not turning to look at him, not trusting yourself to face him in your coffee-deprived state and question exactly who or what he was referring to.

With a gentle shudder, the aircraft landed on the tarmac and headed to its destination, the passengers on the flight applauding for your safe arrival. The pilot welcomed you to Hong Kong International Airport, telling you the current local time and temperature, and thanking you for flying with Cathay Airlines. At the ding! of the seatbelt sign disappearing, a few passengers rushed to secure their carry ons, no doubt antsy to make it to their connecting flight. You sank back into your seat, silently urging them on so you could be back in the air and on your way to Indonesia.

“One flight down, only one more to go!” Jimin exclaimed and stepped into the aisle, fully stretching his lean body after double checking no one else was coming behind him. You nodded and combed your fingers through your hair, trying to tame your own bed hair.

After a few idle minutes, you realized that no one else had gotten on the plane. Confused, you propped yourself up to see the front of the plane better. Aside from a few passengers stretching their legs like Jimin, no clean-up crew had boarded to clear the empty seats and restock the plane with food. The rest of the passengers seemed to notice the lack of activity as well.

“Excuse me?” a man a few rows ahead called to a passing stewardess. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes sir. We’re just having a few maintenance issues, but everything should be sorted quickly. No need to worry,” she said with a gentle smile. Maintenance issues? That didn’t sound good.

Jimin slipped back into his seat to let the stewardess pass. “Don’t look so worried, Shutterfly. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

You nodded slowly and chewed on your lip. It was already bad that you hadn’t been able to see the changes Michael had sent, but now it seemed like your arrival in Bali would be delayed, thwarting your plans even further. Would it be wrong to assume Adele’s phone call was to blame for your entire trip taking every possible delay and detour? Maybe Michael’s words had come true and you hadn’t planned well enough, your gifts truly leaving you in your time of need.

You busied myself with folding the airplane blanket and tucking it into the back of the seat in an effort to remain calm. It would eventually all be sorted and you could contact Micahel when you finally landed, possibly even convincing him that you deserved an extension because of circumstances out of your control.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience. It seems as though our aircraft is having some slight maintenance problems and we will no longer be able to fly to our final destination on this particular plane. Our crew is working diligently to rectify the issue, but we’re going to have to ask you to please leave the aircraft. If you could make your way to the information desk right outside the gate, our associates would be happy to answer any questions you may have about getting you to your final destination. Thank you,” the announcement came over the speakers. An audible groan echoed from the remaining passengers.

“Well, fuck,” Jimin commented, shoving his book and hoodie into his backpack. “What a great surprise,” he mumbled.

You didn’t move. It was as though her words hadn’t truly registered and you blinked a few more times before you honestly understood what was happening. You were going to be late to Bali, your entire itinerary thrown off, not to mention whatever else you needed to add to the video. Your accommodations there would be gone and your deposits with it. Fuck. The familiar tug of anxiety filled your chest as you watched it rise and fall, your breaths coming much easier than you expected, though you felt you’d been submerged underwater for a few minutes. Tears pricked the back of your eyelids as you tried not to cry from frustration.

“Shutterfly! Are you coming?” Jimin was already halfway up the aisle, his old backpack slung low on his shoulders as he checked for your whereabouts, holding up the small line that formed behind him.

You grabbed your backpack and shoved your feet back into your sneakers, double-checking the time on your phone. As soon as you got off the plane, you needed to call Michael and update him on the situation. Though you knew he wouldn’t be upset with you, the gnawing feeling of guilt hung around your shoulders as you shuffled down the aisle with the rest of the passengers.

Hong Kong International Airport would have stolen your breath away had you been paying proper attention. You took a sharp left after entering the actual terminal, looking for an empty seat in a quiet space where you would be able to hear Michael over the protests of irritated passengers. Dialing his number, you waited for the call to go through but it didn’t. You tried again, the same “call failed” message popping up on the screen. Checking the number of bars on your phone showed you that you didn’t have any service. You stared at your phone, baffled. It wouldn’t even connect to the wifi. What in the good Lord’s name were you supposed to do now?

You slumped against the sleek metal column until your body hit the floor in defeat, your brain too frazzled to come up with any bright ideas. Unease wrapped her familiar fingers around your shoulders again. Her gentle whispers echoed in your mind as the uncertainty of the situation before you gripped you tightly. You felt stranded with her on a desolate island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and she was your only company. You drew your knees into your chest, trying to disappear as if that would make anything better. Frustration grew into anger and tears welled up in your eyes as you pushed up from the ground, backpack secured firmly in your grip, and marched over to the nearest Cathay employee.

“Excuse me?” he turned to face you with a warm smile.

“Yes, ma’am. How may I help you?” he asked.

“Hi. I was on the flight from JFK with the final destination to Bali. They said the plane has some maintenance issues? What’s going to happen now? How soon can I get on a flight out of here?” You tried your best to keep your tone neutral as he continued smiling at you.

“First, I’d like to apologize for the inconvenience. Second, we’re not actually sure -” your eyes widened, “- but we’re doing everything we can to fix things,” he finished.

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked. “So am I just supposed to stay in the airport until you guys fix this?”

“Well, we currently have no flights leaving for Bali that have available seats on them -”

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me that I might have to stay in Hong Kong overnight?” You did nothing to try to hide the panic in your voice, forgetting that you were in a public place.

“It’s quite possible, Miss. Again, I’m very sorry -”

“Where am I supposed to sleep then? I can’t sleep here!” you wailed, cutting him off again. His eyebrows turned down in annoyance. You were probably being rude, but at this moment in time, you couldn’t give a fuck. You were in an unfamiliar country, where they spoke an unfamiliar language, under extremely unfamiliar circumstances. He took a deep breath and exhaled.

“If you could follow me, I can see if we have any complimentary hotel rooms available as this cancellation was not your fault,” he said, the cheerful customer service tone gone.

You followed him to the Cathay Airlines desk in front of the gate and wrapped your arms around yourself as he spoke with his colleague. It offered no comfort and you bounced with nervous energy as you waited for his verdict. You started to count the number of passengers you recognized from your flight when someone brushed against you and you jumped, your body hyper-aware of any small movement.

“Hey, it’s just me.” Jimin. You sighed and relaxed your shoulders slightly. “You disappeared on me. Is everything okay? You look kind of ill,” he trailed off. You scowled at him and crossed your arms tightly.

“Thank you, Jimin. That’s just what anyone wants to hear during a time like this,” you said sarcastically. He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed, and mumbled a small apology. “How are you not upset about this?” you asked, gesturing to the rest of the people.

He shrugged. “Things change, life happens. Nothing we can really do about it. Just have to figure out the next step. Have you gotten any updates about a new flight leaving?” you nodded.

“He’s supposed to let me know, but it doesn’t sound like it’s going to be good news,” you replied, chewing on your lip again.

“So we could be stuck here overnight?”

“It’s quite possible,” you told him bitterly, repeating the same words said to you. Jimin hummed in thought and excused himself, promising he would be right back. It was at this moment that the employee returned, his colleague in tow.

“Well, Miss -”

“Y/L/N,” you filled in.

“Miss. Y/L/N, my name is Joy and I am a manager at Cathay Airlines. Again, I would like to apologize for the inconvenience this has caused you. Unfortunately, all of our complimentary rooms have been given away at this moment in time and it seems as though our next departing flight to Bali, Indonesia with available seats will not be leaving until tomorrow afternoon. As of right now, I can only offer you a discount on your next flight with us and a free upgrade to business class,” she finished, her smile almost as sorry as the deal she was offering you.

You inhaled deeply and tried to swallow the bitterness threatening to spill from your lips. The combination of anxiety, anger, and coffee withdrawal had left you with nothing kind to say and Adele had been around enough to teach you good manners.

“Well Jennie, that fucking sucks. Are there any places you could recommend that have available spaces? Or a partner airline that could - I don’t know - actually have working planes and could get me to my final destination?” you asked, some of the bitterness slipping in there somehow. Jennie’s smile tightened just as Jimin returned.

“Sorry, she’s not really a morning person,” he said apologizing and tucking you tightly under his arm. “You said there were no flights available until tomorrow afternoon, correct?”

“Yes, sir. We’re doing our best to get everyone on their way as soon as we can,” she answered, her smile brightening at his presence.

“I’m sure you are -” he leaned down slightly to read her name tag, “- Joy. If you could be so kind as to make sure that we’re sitting together whenever you sort those arrangements out, I would seriously appreciate it.” You opened your mouth to protest but Joy was already agreeing.

“Of course Mr. -“

“Park,”

“Park?” She stared at him puzzled before her eyes lit up. “That’s Korean, isn’t it? Do you speak Korean?” she asked excitedly. “I’ve been trying to practice.” You stared at her incredulously, but Jimin entertained the conversation to your dismay.

“As a matter of fact, I do. How long have you -“

“Jimin,” you butted in, twisting in his grip. “Joy is a busy woman. In fact, she was about to go and get some information about places to stay since there are no flights leaving today. I’m sure you could have this conversation -“

“Oh, no need to worry about that, Shutterfly. I’ve already got that taken care of, but you’re right. Joy is a busy woman so we should let her get back to work,” Jimin said, beaming down at you, his smile easing some of your pent up frustration.

“David,” Joy turned to the man who had originally tried to help me, “please add Miss. Y/L/N under Mr. Park’s reservation for tomorrow’s flight.”

“I’ll need your first name, Miss. Y/L/N,” David told you. “For security purposes,” he added after you continued to stare at him without giving an answer.

“Can’t you just look it up under the old reservation?”

“Oh come on, Shutterfly. Don’t be difficult. Don’t you want to go grab some breakfast?” Jimin cooed while squeezing your shoulder. You’re sure you looked like any angry bull as your nostrils flared. Of course, the Universe would be on Jimin’s side to have it so that you couldn’t not give him your name if you wanted to secure a seat that Joy seemed so determined to give Jimin. Getting to Bali as soon as possible trumped holding out on Jimin. Unfortunately.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N,” you grumbled, arms still crossed, and pouted at your game ending. Jimin’s smile widened and David nodded, heading back to the desk to input the information.

“Thank you so much, Joy. For everything,” Jimin emphasized and squeezed your shoulder again. “Good luck with your Korean!” he added and started to steer you away.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Park! Please enjoy your time in Hong Kong!” she called after you. Jimin pulled you away from the crowd and you struggled to keep up as one of his steps was almost two of yours.

“Jimin, slow down!” you yelled and finally tugged his arm from around you. “Where the fuck are you going?”

“To get breakfast. What do you mean? Aren’t you hungry?” he asked, confused as he stared down at you.

“Jimin, what about the rest of our luggage? Well, I don't know if you did, but I have a checked bag. I can’t just leave -”

“Y/N,” the way your name sounds coming from his mouth had you pausing, your own mouth open mid-sentence, “your luggage is fine. They hold it until you can get on the next flight. You still have the original tag they gave you, right?” You nodded. “Then you’re all set. Come on! You’ll think and feel better once you have some food in you. And some coffee.”

At the mention of your favorite beverage, you let Jimin lace his fingers through your own and lead you further through the international arrivals terminal in search of somewhere to eat. You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair again, dodging the occasional traveler in this unfamiliar airport, in an unfamiliar city, with a slightly less unfamiliar man for company.

Though Jimin was optimistic about finding breakfast at 2:30 am, you were not. After walking through the terminal for 25 minutes and trying to convince Jimin that no sane business would be open right now - to which he responded that there had to be at least one - he had finally given up after passing the same vending machine for the second time.

“Okay, maybe you were right,” he mumbled and set his bag on the floor as he plopped down into an empty seat at a vacated gate and you hummed in agreement. He pushed his hand through his hair and let his head fall over the edge of the seat. You checked your phone again to see if you had any service, and was disappointed to see that there still wasn’t. You sighed quietly and sat next to Jimin.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why do you think something’s wrong?”

“You’re chewing your lip again,” he pointed out. Your cheeks warmed as you realized he was right and you released your lower lip. You were surprised he had noticed your unconscious behavior and you resisted the urge to do it again, instead settling on playing with the sleeves of your hoodie.

“I just - I have a really big project to complete in Bali and with this delay, I’m not sure if I can get it all done. I’ve been trying to get in touch with my manager, but my stupid fucking phone doesn’t have any stupid service right now so I -”

“Do you want to use mine?” he asked, cutting you off and offering you his phone. You stared at him. “Seriously, no worries. I have an international plan that automatically connects when I travel. Here,” he said while unlocking his phone and shoving it into your hands. “I’m going to the restroom. I’ll be right back.”

He didn’t wait for you to say yes before he was already halfway down the hallway. You tapped the screen of his phone before it locked again and dialed Michael’s number, grateful for the privacy. Bouncing your leg, you prayed he would answer the unknown number.

“Michael Callahan. Who is this?”

“Oh, Michael!” You sobbed out in relief after finally hearing his voice.

“Y/N? Is everything okay? What happened to your phone?” he asked, the concern quite evident in his voice. “Were you robbed?! Oh my gosh, Y/N -”

“No, Michael!” you assured him. “For some reason, my phone plan isn’t working. I’m using someone else’s right now.”

“Oh, that blasted Phillip. I told him to make sure your phone plan was taken care of as I had to step into a meeting - you know I would have done it myself - and I guess he forgot. Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’ll get Elise on it right now. Elise!” he screamed away from the phone for his secretary. “You’re in Bali now, right?” he confirmed.

“Um, no. Not yet.”

“What do you mean not yet?”

“Well, the plane had some maintenance issues and they couldn’t fly us out tonight. I’m in Hong Kong instead. We’re supposed to fly out tomorrow,” you explained.

“By yourself?! Where are you going to sleep? Oh honey no! Let me see what -”

“I’m not technically by myself,” you mumbled, just as Jimin was making his way towards you.

“What do you mean by ‘technically’, Y/N?” Michael asked.

“Just another passenger. It’s his phone I’m using. He seems nice,” you trailed off as Jimin sat down next to you, not wanting to talk about him while he was sitting within earshot. He flashed you a thumbs up and you returned it awkwardly, trying to calm down Michael’s growing apprehension.

“Y/N, you can’t just walk around Hong Kong with a stranger! And a man that you barely know?! Honey, how are you going to survive?” you rolled your eyes as the dramatics started to roll in. “You don’t even know Cantonese. If we’re quite honest, you can barely speak Korean. I knew Adele should have -”

“Weren’t you the one who told me to live in the moment? I’ll be okay Michael, just please get my phone on as soon as possible and add an additional travel notice on the card for Hong Kong so I can get something to eat. I’ll text you every hour on the hour with updates. This is Jimin’s number. Save it if you need to call me and my phone isn’t working. Thank you, Michael. You’re the best! I love you!” you hung up before he could protest.

“Is everything alright?” Jimin asked warily.

“Yep!” you chirped. “Absolutely!” Jimin’s eyes widened at your quick change in demeanor. “What do we do now?” Though it was almost 3:30 am and your stomach had started to grumble; your body was still on Eastern Standard Time.

“Well, I have a friend who lives here. He owns a hostel maybe 35 minutes away? I know we need some place to stay and I called him, explained what happened, and he’s more than willing to put us up for the night. I’m not sure if you’re down, but I knew it would be a lot cheaper than whatever hotel Joy was going to offer,” he replied.

You hesitated. Jimin was very much so a stranger. You had only had, at most, three full conversations. You only knew his first and last name, no idea what his actual occupation was and didn’t even know where he was from. He could quite honestly be some maniac looking to lure a pure, innocent girl to her doom. That girl being you. You bit your lip. Then again, you were already here alone, and if you didn’t go with Jimin, you would be alone in the very large, very empty Hong Kong International Airport. Deciding to take Michael’s words to heart, you decided to enjoy the moment and sent up a silent prayer that God had not decided your life would end at the hands of a certain toned-thighed man in the middle of the night.

“No, that sounds great. Thank you for including me,” you told him. He nodded and smiled.

“Of course. I’ll tell him to come get us.”

45 minutes later, you and Jimin were seated in the back of William Xiao’s trusty pickup truck along with his trusty sidekick Rosaline, a golden retriever. You had pictured William to be a younger man around Jimin’s age, but he was actually older - around mid-fifties - with greying hair. He navigated the streets of the city of Victoria easily in the early morning, the traffic was light as most people were still asleep. It was your favorite time and you felt relaxed against the leather seats as the wind lifted your hair, a small smile on your face. The tall skyscrapers glided past as you zoomed down the highway.

“So how long are you staying in Hong Kong this time, Chim?” William asked as he took the next exit.

“Ah, not long actually. We leave tomorrow hopefully,” Jimin responded, glancing over at you.

“And you’re going where again?”

“Bali. In Indonesia,” he repeated. William seemed to be a little forgetful and you chuckled at the thought.

“Right, right. And how long are you two staying there for?” he asked again.

“I’m not sure about Y/N,” his leg bumped against yours as William turned left, “but I’ll be there for maybe 2 weeks? I haven’t decided yet,” Jimin replied.

“Um, I’m there for 10 days. Well, I guess 9 now,” you corrected. You tried not to think about the impromptu changes. William nodded and continued driving through the empty streets, the car silent until Rosaline started barking.

“Oh be quiet old girl. I know we are almost home,” he hushed her and patted her head, her tail wagging excitedly in the seat.

William slowed and pulled his truck over to the side of the street. You stared out the window confused as you could only see small eateries. The street was actually filled with them, with everything from noodles to dumplings and rice bowls. Your mouth watered at the sight, though they all seemed to be closed and you frowned.

“Where’s the hostel?” you asked Jimin, turning to face him as William hopped out of his truck.

“You’re looking at it,” Jimin said and pointed to a narrow doorway right in front of where the truck was parked. Your brows deepened further in confusion. He laughed. “Don’t worry, you’ll see.”

He exited the truck and you accepted his hand as you hopped down and shut the door, the distance much greater for you than Jimin. Rosaline greeted you on the sidewalk and you and Jimin showered her with love as she ran between you, clearly happy about the attention.

“Alright, Rosie. Calm down. You are going to wake the customers up,” William chided as he walked up the three steps of the narrow doorway and entered a passcode before ushering the three of you inside. He used a set of keys to open the second door and you entered the small lobby.

William’s hostel was airy and light, the pale grey walls with turquoise accents complementing each other well. A tiny front desk sat next to a glass door that read “Office” and a few turquoise chairs were positioned on the opposite side of the room. Different abstract paintings lined the wall above them, adding a touch of personality to the otherwise simple room. You were taken aback by how much space actually seemed to be available for use.

“This is lovely,” you complimented, walking over to get a better look. “I really like the artwork.” William beamed at you.

“Why thank you! They were a gift from Jimin,” he added. Jimin received the praise awkwardly and focused his attention on scratching Rosaline’s tummy.

Suddenly, the office door burst open and a petite woman stomped out while loudly whispering in what you assumed to be Cantonese. The two had a heated exchange while she angrily waved about a set of chopsticks and you worried she might poke poor William’s eyes out. It was only after William gestured behind him towards you that she peeked around William and spotted Jimin. Her face immediately brightened and she nearly ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist and giving him a tight squeeze. Jimin laughed as the two of them exchanged words and you stared at him in wonder at his knowledge of the native language. It was then that she finally noticed you.

“Uh, hi,” you said shyly, your face heating up slightly. You waved at her. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” She looked at Jimin expectantly. He translated and she nodded and waved back at you. You smiled.

“Y/N, this is Sonia, William’s wife. They run the hostel together,” Jimin explained.

“My wife only knows a little English. I am sorry,” William started to apologize.

“Oh no! Please don’t apologize. I’m sure we can communicate somehow,” you waved him off. Sonia said something to Jimin again and turned to you.

“Hungry?” she asked and made the motion to eat. You nodded furiously and she grinned. She beckoned you to follow her and took your hand, leading you to the office. Your eyes widened as you passed Jimin and he gave you an encouraging smile. He mouthed that he would be right there.

The office space was compact but functional. There was a little table and cushions as seats, a small refrigerator in the corner, and a few file cabinets tucked against the wall. Sonia gestured to the table for you to sit as she passed through another door, bringing three sets of chopsticks and bowls with her. You made to stand and help her, but she shooed you away so you sat quietly as she set the table. Jimin entered and you smiled at him, reassured at his presence.

“You didn’t tell me you could speak Cantonese!” you declared.

“You never asked,” he replied with a shrug as he sat across from you. “William’s gone to find us a room. I’m not sure if he has one with double occupancy, but he said he would check and see. I hope that’s okay.” You nodded as Sonia returned and placed a steaming plate of noodles in front of you.

“You eat, yes?” she asked. You nodded again and Sonia smiled as she served you and Jimin a large helping. You thanked her, grateful, and tucked in. Moaning in delight, you almost missed the way Jimin’s eyebrows shot up towards his hairline.

“What?!” you giggled. “It’s really, really good.” Jimin only chuckled as he filled his mouth with food. Sonia set some drinks down in front of you before she sat down herself.

“How long have you and William been working at the hostel?” you asked after your stomach no longer felt like it was touching your spine.

“20 years,” Jimin translated around a mouth full of noodles.

“Wow! And you’ve been married that long too?”

“They’ve been married for 35 actually. Sonia used to work as a chef before she started helping William out,” Jimin answered.

You silently awed at her resilience and courage. Sonia was probably married at your age and starting a family while you were here wallowing in self-pity over a man who had proved to you time and time again that he didn’t want you. You shook the thoughts from your head so as to not ruin the end of a great night and instead focused on the flavor of Sonia’s cooking, the spiciness of the sauce welcomed.

The three of you made small talk as Jimin translated for Sonia and yourself. She was a remarkable woman who was headstrong and did as she pleased, much to the dismay of her husband. Her beauty did not leave her as she showed you some pictures from when she and William first got together; her face remained the same except for a few deep smile lines and the occasional silver streak through her shoulder-length hair. The two of them balanced each other out and you could only admire their love story as Jimin helped her with the dishes in the other room and Rosaline came to rest her head on your thighs.

“Well, it seems like I only have one room available for the two of you. I hope that is okay, Y/N,” William said as he poked his head around the door. He sniffed. “Was that black bean noodles?” You nodded and giggled as he called for Sonia, heading through the other open door. Jimin emerged with a key in his hand, snickering.

“William is quite upset Sonia didn’t save him some black bean noodles, though I’m sure I saw her set some aside for him in the fridge,” he laughed. “I told them I’d tell you goodnight. He told you about the room?”

“Yeah,” you replied, still petting Rosaline’s head and lost in your thoughts.

“Alright, I guess we can go then. It’s almost 5:45 am and we should definitely get some sleep to be on Hong Kong time.”

“What was it that you said? ‘Reset the Circadian rhythm before Bali’ was it?” you asked, mocking him. He rolled his eyes and grabbed your backpack.

“You’ll thank me one day, Shutterfly,” he warned as he held the office door open for you. “This way.”

You followed Jimin past the tiny desk and into the main common area with a little lounge and kitchen area set up for breakfast; you beamed when you saw the pots of coffee all cleaned and ready to go. Your body buzzed in anticipation and you couldn’t wait to smell the dark roast in the morning. You continued through to a set of stairs and climbed up to the fourth floor, your legs protesting another step as you realized how truly out of shape you were.

Room 408 was basically nonexistent. You had heard about the tiny rooms in Asia, but actually seeing one was astonishing. A thin wardrobe stood facing the bathroom door which was equally as boxy, but you were grateful that you didn’t have to share as you had heard other hostels do. The walls were painted the same grey color as downstairs but lacked the artwork. The full-sized bed took up the majority of the space in the room, a small nightstand table on its right side. You bit my lip as you thought about having to share the bed with Jimin, knowing how cramped we already were on the plane.

“Isn’t this cute?” Jimin murmured as he set your bags at the foot of the bed after shutting the door and held up the two small plush bears sitting on top of the towels. You laughed uncomfortably as you took the toy from him and set it on the dresser.

“Do you have a side of the bed you prefer?” you asked quietly, standing in the middle of the room, tugging on the sleeves of your hoodie.

“Nope,” Jimin replied, popping the ‘p’. “Lady’s choice.” He gestured to the bed and you blushed.

“Cool, well do you mind if I take a shower first?” He shook his head as he pulled out his book and phone charger. “Cool, cool. I’ll be fast,” you told him and shut yourself in the bathroom quickly with your backpack and one of the towels.

You exhaled and massaged your scalp as you tried to channel tranquility. There was nothing to be afraid of. It was only sleeping in a bed with a man. Something you’d done numerous times, both platonically and romantically throughout your life. This would be nothing different. Except it was Jimin. A man that knew how to adjust AF fine-tune on pricey cameras, read books for fun, and also spoke multiple languages. You groaned and turned on the hot water. You thought you had shut all thoughts of Jimin away in that tiny airplane stall, but you guess you’d missed a few stragglers.

The water pressure was weak when you stepped in but you were appreciative that the water was still hot at this time in the morning. You took a quick shower, wanting to save some of it for Jimin. It was steamy when you stepped out and you wiped the oval mirror clear with your hands. Your hair was slightly damp and your skin was flushed from the steam. You tugged on the sleep shirt you’d packed in your bag yesterday morning as well as a clean pair of panties that you always carried in your carry on in times of emergencies, glad you’d remembered to do so for this trip. Jimin turned his head towards you as you cracked the door open to peer around it, shielding your lower body from his gaze.

“All done?” he asked. You nodded. “I think Michael texted you? Oh, and the password for the wifi is written here, just in case you need it,” he said, holding up a piece of paper from the nightstand. You nodded again.

“Don’t look,” You told him quite seriously, pointing a warning finger towards him.

“Are you going to poke me with your finger if I don’t?” he teased, turning your words back on you and you were glad that your skin was already flushed so he couldn’t tell you were embarrassed again. “I’ll step out so you can sort out what you need. Shout when you’re done.” He padded out into the hallway and slowly closed the door behind him. You sighed in gratitude and slipped out of the bathroom, double-checking your cameras were still okay before plugging your phone charger into an outlet and diving under the covers.

“You can come in!” you yelled. Jimin double-checked that the coast was clear before he locked the door behind him and rummaged through his things. As he entered the bathroom, you set up the wifi on your phone and thumbed a quick message to Michael telling him you were safe and well-fed. His message came immediately after.

Michael: Thank God! I was so worried. What is this Jimin’s last name? You know we can never be too careful. [6:01].

Park. He seems alright. I took a shower and he didn’t try to kill me so I guess that’s a good sign. [6:02]

Michael: Y/N, this is no time to make jokes about your life; I’ve already asked for his social security number to give to police if anything seems suspicious. Please send me the address of where you are, just in case. Also, Elise said that your phone should be working now. What time are you supposed to leave Hong Kong? [6:04].

Michael you can’t just ask people that! Tell her I said thank you. And I will. I’ll get it from William in the morning. They’re supposed to put us on a flight tomorrow afternoon. I’ll update you as I find out more. It’s six in the morning here and I need to reset my Circadian rhythm apparently [6:06].

I’ll call you in the morning and we can talk about the video after I look at the suggestions [6:07].

Michael: If you’re alive by then… [6:07].

Michael: And who is this William?! Why are there so many men where you are and why was I not invited?! [6:08].

Michael! And William is the guy who owns the hostel. He’s like 55 and MARRIED. [6:08].

Michael: As if that’s ever stopped me ;) [6:09].

Michael: Kidding! Sort of. Please call me if you need anything. I don’t care what time it is. Be safe. Love you Y/N [6:09].

Even though you’re probably going to Hell, love you Michael [6:10].

You locked your phone just as Jimin exited the bathroom, steam wafting from behind him. Black basketball shorts hung low on his hips, the waistband of his Calvin Kleins peeking through as he finished towel drying his hair. His thin grey shirt clung to his chest from it not being completely dry and you sank further into the sheets. You covered your face and took a deep breath. It was just one night together in the same bed. It would all be fine.

“Did you get to talk to Michael?” he asked while sitting on the edge of the bed. You nodded. “Good. I didn’t want him to think I had kidnapped you and held you hostage before I murdered you.” You snorted as you sat up.

“He didn’t actually say that,” you laughed. “Right?” You stopped when Jimin didn’t correct you. “Oh my gosh, Jimin! I’m so sorry. Michael is almost as dramatic as he is protective and I’m sure he didn’t mean to -”

“Jimin?” Of course, he would focus on only one part of what you said.

“That’s your name isn’t it? What people call you?” you asked, fidgeting with the end of the sheet, now wondering if you’d missed something.

“Yes, but I like the way you say it more,” he said with a grin, his wavy hair falling into his eyes. You groaned and threw the other small plush bear at him. He caught it easily.

“Are you always like this?” you interrogated.

“Like what? Devilishly handsome?” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows at you and you laughed again.

“No, extremely insufferable,” you replied. He laughed and the sound bounced off the walls, wrapping you up in its tone. He covered his mouth to try and stifle the sound. His grin cracked through him biting his lip, and you bit your own in response.

“For someone who finds me so insufferable, you sure do mirror my actions a lot,” he said with a chuckle. You released your lower lip and blushed.

“You are so cocky, Park Jimin!”

“I mean, once you Jim-in, you can’t Jim-out!” He shot you the finger guns before he realized what he had actually said. “I mean, not that I’m trying to fuck you -” your eyes widened “- I mean, if you’re down for that then I am too. 100%. Like seriously, fuck. I just meant that it wasn’t my intention to -” you hollered into the pillow as the words tumbled from his mouth. His smile was shy as he stood from the bed and set the bear on the nightstand with its partner. “We should go to sleep,” he mumbled and switched off the light. He cursed as he stubbed his toe on the corner of the wrought iron bed frame and you could only continue giggling at his misfortune.

“I’m glad my pain amuses you,” he said into the dark, his voice much closer than you expected. “Did you set an alarm?” You shook your head and he set one on his phone as he plugged both of your phones up to charge. He scooted back down and wiggled around like a dog circling their bed until he was comfortable, his back now facing you. “Goodnight Y/N,” he whispered over his shoulder.

“Goodnight Jimin,” you breathed.

You laid still on your back, your arms crossed over your stomach as you listened to Jimin’s breathing slow. The space between you was microscopic and you were acutely aware of the heat radiating from his body as the air conditioning blasted from the unit in the window. You turned over onto your side gingerly, facing the wall. It had been a while since you were in bed with a man and Jimin’s flustered words echoed in your brain as you pressed my thighs together. Speculating that he was interested in you was one thing, but having him admit it - even if it was only sexually - was conflicting. You scrunched your eyes shut tight as you locked away any inappropriate thoughts of what it would be like to not “Jim-out”.

You sighed in content as you pressed your body closer to his chest. One of his strong arms wrapped around your torso, the other tucked under your head, and his breath tickled the back of your neck as he quietly snored behind you. Your fingers traced along the curve of his palm while your brain slowly came to. Your legs were tangled under the sheet, intertwined with one another as you ran your foot up the back of his calf, surprised by the lack of hair you felt; Tiago’s legs were never this smooth.

Squinting in the lazy haze of the sunlight that peeked from underneath the curtain above you, you turned over. Instead of seeing tight blond curls lying against the pillow, you were met with the faint traces of black bean noodles and soft black waves. Opening your eyes properly, your eyes focused on Jimin’s parted lips. You jolted as you realized his soft embrace had caused you to remember your moments with Tiago. You stiffened when Jimin’s hand tightened around your waist and he pressed his hand against the small of your back, your t-shirt having ridden up in the middle of the night. It was then that you realized his own t-shirt had been discarded and your arms were trapped against his chest, his gold chain pooled around his neck.

Shit. You didn’t want to wake him, but you needed to get out of his hold, the triggering memories of Tiago too much to handle in this state. You tried to gently press against his chest with your arms, but Jimin only shuffled closer. You watched his eyebrows furrow in discomfort as your legs bumped one another’s before he ran his hand over the curve of your ass, along the back of your thigh, and hooked your leg over his hip. Your hips were perfectly aligned. You held your breath as Jimin exhaled, his face neutral, at peace and he rested his head on top of yours.

You pushed against his chest again and he groaned softly in his sleep as he rolled onto his back, not forgetting to bring your leg with him. Your head was against his bare chest and you heard the soft thump! of his heart. You closed your eyes and listened to it, lost in its steady beat for a moment before you remembered that you were trying to get out of his grasp and not succumb to it.

Pressing up onto your elbow, you double-checked he was still sleeping before you shifted to hover over him. Your knees were over his hips taking all of your weight as you tried your best not to press into the pillow with your hands, but not letting your ass brush against his lower abdomen. His abdominal muscles were almost as tight as the ones in his thighs and just as defined. You remembered his comment suggesting you should have asked to sit in his lap and you bit back a smile at your current predicament. Jimin shifted beneath you again and you froze, your smile dropping. He settled again and you exhaled; your heart couldn’t handle the back and forth.

The vibration of your phone startled you and you stumbled out of the bed to silence the call, nearly dragging the rest of the sheets off Jimin.

“Hello?” you answered in a whisper. You adjusted the sheets around his sleeping frame as he rolled over onto this stomach, his arm stretching out into your vacated spot.

“Y/N, why haven’t you called me back?” Adele’s voice rang out over the line. Had you seen it was her, you would have ignored the call. You slipped into the bathroom after grabbing your toothbrush and prayed the door would muffle some of the conversation.

“I’ve been on a plane, Adele. I haven't exactly had service to call anyone,” you stated, matter-of-factly.

“Well, where are you now? And why are you speaking so quietly?” she questioned.

“A hostel in Hong Kong. I don’t want to -”

“Hostel?!” she shrieked. “Oh Y/N darling, I know I raised you better than to wallow in low-class establishments like hostels,” she continued. You could picture the look of disgust on her face. You did not have enough energy to deal with her in your coffee-withdrawn state. Your temper was short.

“It’s actually very clean. We all can’t afford to live in unnecessary luxury like you, Adele,” you said while brushing your teeth. You spat at the thought of her in her high-end clothes and brownstone home paid for by different men.

“Your brother didn’t seem to mind the high-end luxury when he was here,” she replied smugly. you paused.

“When he was where?” you asked.

“Home. With me.” Her shit-eating tone was quite evident. “But you wouldn’t have known that.”

“Milo came home?” you asked again in disbelief.

Your relationship with your younger brother wasn’t as strained as your mother’s, but you weren’t on the best of terms either. You hadn’t seen him in five years. You still remembered how peaceful he looked as he slept when you kissed him goodbye. His calls and messages eventually stopped after a few months of you not answering.

“Of course he came home,” Adele snapped. “Miles enjoys spending time with his mother.”

You ignored her dig towards me. “How long is he staying?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Maybe you should have told me you were in New York and not run off on the next available flight -”

“You know, at this point, I’m not convinced Milo even came by. You’re just gaslighting me to come home after all these years and it’s not going to happen, Adele. Stop wasting your time and stop calling my phone outside of emergencies,” your voice slightly raised as you rinsed your toothbrush off in the sink.

“You’ve become so bitter, Y/N. I never forced you to leave; you left on your own accord -”

“You didn’t want me!” you yelled into the phone.

“If that’s what you want to believe, then fine,” she said indifferently. “I’ll prove to you I wasn’t lying about Milo,” she sneered. She never liked the nickname you gave her son. Her prized possession.

“Don’t call him that,” you growled, the emotion welling up in your chest.

“I’ll call him whatever I want. You’re lucky I was in a good mood when I gave him your number and I hadn’t spoken to you before -”

“Goodbye, Adele.” You hung up the phone and braced yourself against the sink.

Your body shook as you tried to process what exactly had occurred. Milo was back in New York. Your precious baby brother was back home. Unless Adele was manipulating you again, Milo could be reaching back out after you had fucked your relationship up. She had given him your number. A sob wracked your shoulders and you covered your mouth to stifle the sound. Silent tears ran down your cheeks and you wiped them away furiously, upset that you were wasting tears on a situation so old.

“Shutterfly?” you gasped as you turned to face the door, a sleepy Jimin poking his head around it. “Hey, are you okay? You weren’t in bed - Wait, are you crying?” He pushed the door open further and stepped inside.

“No,” you lied and turned back to the sink, splashing your face with cold water. You pleaded with the Lord that he wouldn’t be able to see your shoulders shake as you tried to control your breathing. You shut off the water as Jimin turned you to face him.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” He held your face in his hands, searching it for the answer to his question. You felt small under his gaze and extremely conscious of the little amount of clothes you were both wearing. You shook your head, trying to tell him it was nothing, that you were fine. “Okay, we don’t have to talk about it. Can I give you a hug instead?”

“No,” you whispered. “I’d prefer if you didn’t right now.” He stroked his thumbs against your cheeks once more before he let go and stepped back. You didn’t miss the flicker of disappointment that flashed against his face as he nodded. You inhaled and exhaled deeply, finally feeling like you were back in control. “I would prefer if you brushed your teeth though. Your breath smells like noodles,” tiy said as you squeezed past him.

Jimin’s 10:30 am alarm went off as you were heading downstairs for breakfast, his teeth brushed and both of you dressed. You practically sprinted to the coffee machine and chose the biggest cup possible. There were a few other guests milling around the lounge area as breakfast was officially over, but Sonia had prepared something extra for you and Jimin knowing we were still extremely jetlagged, the 12 hour time difference taking a toll on your bodies.

Jimin was dressed casually again. A pair of olive green slim cargo shorts, an oversized black t-shirt, and the same black, white, and grey Jordans on his feet. His hair fell into his face as he helped himself to the instant noodles and fried egg Sonia served him, the two of them looking like mother and son as they chatted. It seemed as though Jimin also followed the same “pack additional clothes in your carry on” rule.

You sighed as you took your first sip of coffee, hugging the cup protectively between both hands. Closing your eyes in bliss, you let the hot drink soothe your nerves from last night and this morning, your conversation with Adele almost a distant memory. The energy flowed through you as you opened your laptop to read Julia’s updates, finally feeling prepared to handle whatever was thrown at you.

Hello Y/N!

Julia here. Thank you again for taking on our project. Michael was right to recommend you; your portfolio is absolutely stunning. As you know, we’re looking to promote our getaway package in Bali. Though we do want high-quality content, the company was wondering if you would be able to deliver a more “amateur” romantic feel. We’re marketing towards couples and would love to see some shots that represent that. You don’t have to be in any of the shots yourself, but it would be great if you could! I understand this is quite short notice, but I have complete faith in your ability to deliver.

Please do not hesitate to contact me if you have any further questions!

Best,

Julia.

She had attached a few photographs of smiling couples on the beach and at dinner for reference. You groaned and rubbed your temples. You didn’t think there was enough coffee in the world that would be able to address these minor inconveniences. Intimacy was not your thing. Romance was not your thing. Love was not your thing, and yet here Julia was telling you to make those things a thing. A reality. You gulped down another mouthful of coffee, burning your tongue in the process.

“Food?” Sonia asked, pushing a plate across the wooden bench table in front of you. You smiled in thanks and began eating though not really tasting the food. Jimin’s eyes watched you carefully and you sighed, already knowing he was going to ask you if you were okay.

“Just work stuff, Jimin, nothing to worry about,” you said.

“You make it hard to not worry about you though,” he murmured, avoiding your eyes. “Sonia said you shouldn’t be working while you’re here, that you need to enjoy the city before you go,” he added.

“Tell her I have a really big project to complete and I appreciate her concern, but I can’t just ignore work,” you replied, pushing your fried egg around your bowl. Jimin translated again and Sonia shook her head before walking away. You hoped you hadn’t offended her.

“Is this for your Saipan video?” he asked. You shook your head.

“I got contracted by a travel company to create a “vlog” type advertisement for a getaway package they’re selling to Bali. Julia, the contact, sent over some new additions while we were on the flight and I’m not sure how I’m going to get it done, but they expect me to deliver, especially since Michael recommended me,” you finished.

“What exactly do you have to do?”

“Basically be in love and capture it on film.” Your mouth turned down in disgust at the thought. Jimin laughed at you. You turned your laptop to face him so he could read the email to show him you weren't joking.

“That doesn’t seem so hard,” he commented after he was done.

“For you.”

“Oh come on, Y/N. Love is a beautiful thing. It’s everywhere if you think about it. I mean, look at Sonia and William. Don’t you remember the first time you fell in love? The pleasure it brought you, the happiness. You can’t tell me you don’t want to experience love like that again,” he said seriously.

You faked thinking about it. “Nope. I think I’m good.” You stood and poured yourself a second cup of coffee, wishing you could pour all the memories of Tiago down the drain. Especially after this morning. You tugged on your ears, the blood rushing to them as usual.

“That’s what you think, but I’m sure I can change your mind,” he said with his shit-eating grin. You rolled your eyes. “I’m serious, Shutterfly. All you need is my true love and affection -” Jimin was interrupted by Sonia dragging William over to you, an envelope in her hands. She shoved it in his and waited for him to start speaking.

“Uh,” William scratched the back of his head, “Sonia wanted me to give these to you.” He handed the envelope to you. Sonia smacked his shoulder and gestured for him to continue before she turned her expectant gaze on you. “She said you should not worry about work and you should go and enjoy Hong Kong so she is gifting you with tickets to the Hong Kong Museum of Fine Art. It is a ten-minute walk and Jimin can show you his -”

“- favorite exhibits. Right. Thank you, William and Sonia,” Jimin interjected.

“You’ll go, right?” Sonia asked eagerly. You opened your mouth to protest but didn’t have the heart to say no to her in her bunny apron. Not when she had worked so hard to make sure you were comfortable and well-fed. But also because you didn’t want her to attack you with her wooden chopsticks. You nodded and she clapped in excitement before she started going off a mile a minute at William who cowered slightly away from her. Jimin chuckled at their interaction.

“Isn’t love amazing, Y/N?” he said wistfully as he cleared the table. You rolled your eyes and texted Michael that you’d seen the email, Julia was out of her mind, but you would do your best to complete the task so you wouldn’t disappoint along with the address of the hostel.

After returning your laptop to your shared room, you and Jimin set off for the museum in the sweltering sun. You were overjoyed that you’d chosen to wear your dark t-shirt from yesterday, though you were still conscious of your sweat stains being visible. Jimin looked elated as you walked through the busy streets and you struggled to keep up, your own Jordans way out of time with his own.

 “So you have favorite exhibits here?” you asked slightly out of breath. He slowed as if he just realized how far behind you were.

“Yeah, I was here a few months ago and stopped by. They have some pretty cool stuff here.”

You continued walking and you gasped as the museum came into view. Perched on the edge of the water, the building stretched along the harbor. Its walls were textured and stone grey. Clear blue windows peeked through the exterior and there was a steady stream of people loitering outside. You wished you’d brought your camera as you snapped a few photos of the impressive architecture on your phone.

Inside was just as magnificent with its low lights and marble flooring. The cool air conditioning was an additional plus as you and Jimin stood in the lobby. A large sign displayed all of the pertinent information about the exhibits available for view. You’d always been a sucker for museums and you felt lighter just being there.

“Aren’t you happy you came?”

“Very,” you whispered, looking around in awe. “Hey look!” You pointed to the exhibit directory, “Garland Sans has an exhibit showing.”

“Hmm?”

“Garland Sans. Michael said he’s having an exhibit in New York in a few weeks and wants to go. It’d be cool to see some of his work before then. I’m not too familiar with his stuff,” you explained. Jimin nodded.

“Yeah, sure. We can start with some selected works from the Chih Lo Lou Collection and work our way through?” he suggested. You nodded and followed him to the second floor, excitement thrumming in your veins.

You’d spent the better part of three hours roaming all of the floors in the museum with Jimin and spending most of your time at the Xubaizhai exhibit, the afternoon rolling in with ease. You were lost in the stories of the Ming and Qing dynasties, amazed at how detailed the small villages were depicted using ink and color. It was like reading the stories of their lives. It also didn’t hurt that Jimin was there to translate the calligraphy on some of the scrolls. He seemed to enjoy the Garland Sans exhibit less and you debated the motives behind each painting endlessly. Unsurprisingly, he was well-versed in the arts, more so than you and something he chalked up to hanging out with too many artsy folks, and you wondered what else you would learn about him.

“Don’t museums make you just want to fall in love?” Jimin nudged you with his elbow as you headed back to the lobby. You laughed loudly.

“Not at all.”

“Oh come on, Y/N. You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything in your cold, dead heart as we walked around the museum. You looked so content and at peace,” he added.

“I was. That was the effect of the artwork, not you.”

“So you don’t think I belong in the Greek statue exhibit at the MET Museum?” He flexed his arms behind his head as he winked at me. You did your best to ignore the flutter in your belly as you disagreed with him. “It’s okay. I’ll win you over. Even if it’s only for a really good video. I haven’t forgotten that I’m your muse.” You shook your head at his usual attempt to flirt when his phone rang in his pocket.

“Yes?” he answered, irritated. It sounded out of place from his usual casual tone. He excused himself and you sat on a bench in front of the museum to wait for him.

The view of the harbor was stunning and you welcomed the gentle breeze keeping you cool in the 84-degree heat. You took a short video of the boats drifting at the dock, a few of them further out bobbing along with the waves. Your own phone buzzing distracted you from the serene riverscape, Adele’s name appearing on the screen with a picture attachment. You opened it and nearly dropped your phone.

Adele: Told you so. [16:57].

Below it, a photo of her and your brother. He was smiling into the camera as the two of them posed. Milo’s face had lost its chubbiness, his jaw more angular and his cheekbones more pronounced. His dimples were just as deep and matched the same pair Adele sported. That particular gene had skipped you; you got stuck with the freckles. His hair was cut short, different from the long floppy locks he used to wear in high school. How he had managed to take this photo without Adele ripping that gold hoop out of his nose was beyond you and you smiled seeing that your rebellious little brother was still there. Milo really had come home.

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

ⓒ joon-ipersgirl, 2020

[pinkfadespirit]

Night Shift - Chapter 29: Gone

read new chapter | read from the beginning

Pairings: Fenris/Female Hawke, Anders/Male Hawke

Main Tags: Vampire AU, Modern With Magic, Twin Hawkes...

Summary: Fenris is a vampire on the run from his former master. He finds himself in Kirkwall, where one night he encounters Marian Hawke: the city's resident vampire hunter. Naturally, she tries to kill him. Luckily for both of them, she fails at that and Fenris, rather than killing her, makes his escape. A week or so later, Marian surprises everyone involved by tracking him down and, instead of trying for round two, offers to recruit him into her group of monster-fighting misfits.

Skip forward a bit and Marian's absentee brother Garrett has become suspiciously less absent ever since meeting the group's rebel mage healer, Anders, and agreeing to help him locate someone from his past. Then Marian strikes up a deal with Fenris that involves working against a powerful Tevinter vampire. Add to that the day-to-day life of a predominantly mage household in a city that really doesn't like mages, and things sort of spiral out of control from there...

Chapter excerpt: The knock on the front door comes after dark but still early enough for Marian not to have thought of leaving for work. None of the others have come back from their own jobs yet; Merrill has a late appointment at her studio tonight and Bethany is probably trying to coax Anders to close up the clinic at a reasonable hour. Which leaves Marian with the house to herself.

She doesn’t have to wonder who might be calling on her because the knock is accompanied by that familiar shiver of her hunter senses reacting to the presence of a nearby vampire. Sure enough, when she opens the door Fenris is standing there on the other side.

“Good,” he says, without wasting any time, “you are here. I may need your assistance. Unless… Where is the mage?” He keeps his voice low, thankfully, since the last thing Marian needs is anyone overhearing that there are mages living here, at an address where none are registered.

“You mean Anders?” asks Marian, guessing because Merrill is usually ‘Witch’, while Bethany is simply ‘Bethany’. “He’s not back from the clinic yet.”

“Then he is not with Karl?”

“I don’t think so? Bethany was with him today and she’s not back yet either. I assume that means they’re coming back together. What’s going on, Fenris?”

Fenris looks... not worried, exactly. Perhaps slightly disconcerted. He frowns at her response. “He is missing. Karl. I would think little of it but that he rarely leaves his room and tonight I had agreed to go hunting with him. To provide supervision. He showed no objection to it last night. With the state he is in... I believe his disappearance may be cause for concern.”

[thisislizheather]

June Jaunts 2021

July always feels like one big long nap to me. There’s never really anything going on, kids are off school, adults seem to work less, it’s kind of great in that way. Maybe I won’t hate it this year? In any case, here’s what went down in June.

I compiled the best tweets of June over here and here.

I visited and wrote about the new Rockaway Hotel and pool.

I did Nathan’s podcast amidst his hiatus.

I recapped what I did from my spring list and made an upcoming summer to-do list, which I really encourage you to do on your own.

I read and reviewed The Happiness Advantage by Shawn Archor.

I’ve almost finished watching Living Single and seasons one through four are definitely the best ones. Love the episode where Kyle says goodbye to an old jazz venue that gets demolished, such a solid show.

I just saw the latest issue of the LCBO magazine and someone needs to pick me up that dill pickle vodka immediately.

Dying over how good the Strawberry Pound Cake candle smells from Bath & Body Works. Also picked up the Whipped Coffee candle for later this year from their semi-annual sale.

I went on an impromptu day trip to Connecticut.

I met up with Irene in Chinatown so I went early to walk around because man, I love that area.

Above Photo: Chinatown NYC, June 2021

Above Photo: Doyers Street, Chinatown NYC, June 2021

Above Photo: Irene!

Above Photo: Me!

I ate at dell’anima and it was insanely disappointing. It felt like being in a cafeteria at the mall, it’s just a terrible location. I wasn’t expecting much since I knew it was on 11th Avenue, but still. I had no idea it would be so deeply casual (which is upsetting for an NYC restaurant). The food was as average as could be. Also, can we stop with the plastic cups at restaurants? It’s time.

I also stopped by Anfora which is a pleasant little spot, especially before or after dinner.

I went to Daily Provisions and tried their roast beef sandwich and salted caramel brownie and does everywhere just suck this month? And I support Danny Meyer, but he truly is the master of overpricing food. Also - on what planet can a brownie taste bland?? Tell me??

I’m on the lash extension train again (I know, I’m weak) and I just got them done at Lash Princess in the city and they look incredible so I’m definitely going to return.

I rewatched Baywatch: Hawaiian Wedding and yep, still great.

Love the stationary/toy store Modern State on the Upper East Side.

I’ve heard about cotton candy grapes for years and have never been able to get ahold of them, but I just found them and whoa! Everything you want them to be and more. Am I bothered by the fact that they’re 1000% modified and MUST be terrible for humans to eat? A bit.

I finally ate the Wednesday sandwich special at Mama’s Too on the Upper West Side and it was pretty incredible. It was a roast beef au jus with horseradish cream on top of their house-made pizza crust. It was a little heavy on the fatty pieces of meat, but once those were taken out, it was insanity to eat. Take a look.

Above Photo: Roast beef au jus with horseradish cream at Mama’s Too, NYC

We saw A Quiet Place 2 in theatres and yes it’s an okay movie but it was too suspenseful for me after not seeing a movie in theatres for so long. I don’t think I want any more suspense in my life

We also watched The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It at home and meh. Patrick Wilson can still get it, though.

Yet another great song off of Olivia Rodrigo’s album.

I finally got a reservation at Forsythia and it was looooovely, I can’t wait to go again. The restaurant itself is beautiful and such a perfect date place, the chairs are gorgeous and comfortable, the service was flawless and the pastas were phenomenal (the garganelli was a standout for sure). And god knows how much I love a place that serves their bread with olive oil as well as butter, WHY DOESN’T EVERY PLACE DO THIS?

I had to try the panzanella salad at L’Artusi and of course it’s great, but it’s also just so genius to put the cheese ON THE BOTTOM of a salad like this one. (Also, I’ll forever support whatever this team wants to do.)

Above Photo: Heirloom Tomato & Burrata Panzanella with Stonefruit, Sourdough, Basil, Yuza, Nigella at L’Artusi, NYC

Above Photo: Bucatini with Pancetta, Tomato, Chiles, Pecorino at L’Artusi, NYC

I tried the new Milk Bar cookies at Whole Foods and they truly taste like the cake truffles at their stores, so watch out.

The two best gelato flavours at il laboratorio del gelato? 1) Peach 2) Ginger. I’m telling you.

I’ve been looking for the perfect navy raincoat for years and I finally found her at J. Crew on sale for $71.

I tried the gelato at Anita Gelato and even though the wild strawberry with ricotta & mascarpone was really good, there’s no way it’s worth waiting in line for twenty minutes.

Above Photo: Wild strawberry with ricotta & mascarpone with a vanilla scoop, Anita Gelato in NYC

A great piece, with great photos on NYC reopening.

I made hash browns at home and does everyone do this already? It’s ridiculously easy and satisfying and I had no idea.

I’ve been on a real orzo bender lately and this tomato one was great. So was this lemon basil one (I added a ton of fresh parmesan and it was nuts).

This sketch is old, but I just saw it for the first time and man it’s great.

The new Halloween trailer is out and I want to love it but can’t we just let some things die?

This Target candle reminds me of Florida vacations and I want to buy ten.

I stupidly ate at Eataly (don’t do it, especially if you live in New York, you should know better) and of course it was bad. What a smart idea to eat at a place called Le Pizza & La Pasta, I’m a moron. Even smarter, I got the steak tartare and it was as bland as the day is long (and look I know I’m a clown for not even ordering pizza OR pasta when it’s in the name). The basil vodka cocktail was pretty good, though.

One thing that Eataly is good for, though, is selling really good dried pastas. I finally tried the brand Afeltra (the pasta as well as their canned tomatoes) and wowza. Definitely will be buying again. Best dried brand I’ve tried so far. Oh! I also bought this Ponti Balsamic Vinegar that tastes like candy, it’s so good. It’s thicker than other balsamics, so maybe it’s more of a finishing vinegar but I highly recommend.

I made these white chocolate apricot scones (and then later that week some white chocolate strawberry scones) and they were phenomenal. I did use cake flour because that’s all I had and I think that might be the reason they tasted so great. Also, it’s a wildly easy recipe to follow incase you’re intimidated by the word “scone.”

Above Photo: White chocolate apricot scone

I started watching the new season of Dave and it’s so well done I could scream (do you remember how good this part was from last season?). Such a good show. I do sort of hate men more by the end of each episode, so I don’t know what that’s about but I think I’m okay with it.

Bought a new nonstick frying pan (the GreenPan) and it’s incredible. Sometimes the answer is new cookware, no matter the question.

Nathan bought a new filtered shower-head and it’s making me excited for every shower now. Just a powerhouse. Feels like I’m at a hotel in there.

Since it’s summer, I’d love to make these summer recipes:

Grilled Caprese Skewers with Halloumi and Sourdough

Pan-Seared Scallops with Chorizo and Corn

BLT Pasta Salad

Summer Coconut Chickpea Curry

Strawberry Crumble Coffee Cake

Some things that I’m looking forward to: I’m not usually into miniseries but Nine Perfect Strangers looks pretty good so I might watch that, we’re going to TWO weddings this month so that will be wonderful, and I really need to get back in a pool so I’m working on that happening.

If you have any interest in reading what went on in May, come on over here.