#it's so rare to find magazines with the group as a whole on the front cover.... especially when alan was still in the group 😭🙏 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sounwise · 2 years

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“Inner Beatle Secrets: From Paul” (interview with Alan Freeman in Rave Magazine, April 1966 issue)

[Full transcript beneath the cut:]

No doubt, pop-pickers, millions of you would flip at an opportunity to entertain Paul McCartney in your home for a few hours. Well, if you ever do, take my tip . . . move the piano out first. Because Paul makes straight for it the way other people head for a good-looking chick.

“You eat, sleep and dream on it, don’t you?” I said. Paul grinned and rippled out another string of tuneful thoughts, the melody just growing from his fingers. Then he tried it over again, this time adding a jumping bass pattern that suddenly brought the whole thing to life. He stopped halfway through.

“That’s all I’ve got so far,” he said. “I must work on that a bit more.”

It took me half-an-hour to get Paul away from the keyboard and sit down and relax. I could see why the Beatles rarely run short of great new numbers. If someone invented a way of composing in your sleep, McCartney would be on to it like a shot.

It was nearly a year since I’d had a Heart-to-Heart with Paul, here in the same room at my London apartment. We’d met often since then, of course, on shows and in TV studios. But now, with a rare day free just to laze around and sip a long drink and chat about whatever came into his mind, you could see a big change in him.

In the old days Paul, like a lot of genuinely sensitive and creative people, used to cover up a little under a dry, wise-cracking front. Today he’s fizzing like a firework with all sorts of thoughts and theories about music, films, books and art.

People used to ask, “What happens when the time comes that the Beatles break up and go their own ways?” I don’t think we need to worry. I reckon their individual talents are possibly even greater than their achievements as a group. Even if the Beatles had never made a single disc, the Lennon-McCartney songs would have been a glowing milestone in pop anyhow.

So, if you don’t mind, Beatle-diggers, this is Paul the person talking of his ideas, his discoveries as his mind matures and the mad, hurtling pace of the world’s idols steadies down to a saner rhythm.

The phone rang outside, but I wasn’t letting anybody cut in on this revealing session with Paul. “No calls for the next hour, no matter what,” I said to Carolina, my secretary.

And Paul began to talk.

“It’s hard to know whether the Beatles have changed much in the past year as the public sees them,” he said. “But I know we have. I know I have, as a personal, internal change. I don’t mean things like getting the M.B.E. I think after the first couple of weeks we forgot about that.

“I’d say the really big change is in our tastes, in finding out about things we didn’t know before. For instance, George spends all his time now, listening to Indian music. He’s joined the Asian Music Circle. He’s really serious about it, too. It started when he got a cithar [sic]—the Indian instrument we used on ‘Norwegian Wood’.

“It’s the same with all of us. We’ve all got interested in things that just never used to occur to us. I’ve got thousands, millions, of new ideas myself. What I really want to do now is to see whether I could write all the music for a film. Not just to write tunes, but the music of the film itself.

“I want to read a lot more than I do. It annoys me that so many million books came out last year and I only read twenty of them. It’s a drag.

“What I’m reading at the moment is everything I can get on the assassination of President Kennedy . . . all the evidence, all the reports. I’m convinced that the real truth about that hasn’t come out. And I’m reading a French writer—Jarry. He’s great, weird.

“I’m reading plays like mad, too, I don’t know if I’ll ever want to write one. But there are so many things I’d like to have a try at.

“Painting. I’ve done quite a bit and I enjoy it. I’d like to do a lot more, find out if I might have a talent for that.”

Caroline brought in tea and passed the cups. “Paul,” I said, “how would you say all these new interests of yours might affect the Beatles’ music?”

He grinned, stirring his tea. “Well, if you mean are people frightened that we might suddenly go all sober or play stuff like Mantovani, they needn’t worry about that. We’ve got no intention of trying to rehash old things. The whole point is that we’re learning about new things all the time.

“Like doing ‘Yesterday’ with the string quartet instead of the big sweeping orchestra, which was the old way. But it would be a pity if we change the way which we think is better but everybody else doesn’t. It’d be a pity—but that’s the only way we’ve ever worked.

“We’ve only made the records which we think are good, and that’s the only standard we’ve ever gone by. Eventually we may get a bit too way-out. I hope not, but I don’t know.”

I pointed to the stack of newly released discs standing by the record player and said, “But if you go through those, for example, everyone can see that pop music is getting more and more way-out. People are going for it, all the same.”

Paul nodded. “Yes, to some extent it is. But there are still too many groups who are trying just to keep up. That’s no good. That’s what makes the whole pop thing dull in the end. You ought to be able to move on a bit further with every record, like The Who.

“And what’s more, they’ve got every chance. The equipment in most British recording studios is much better than it is in the States. But there’s some extra bit they get to the sound over there that we haven’t quite got. I don’t know what it is yet, but you get the sensation of that little bit more. The Stones always tell us we’d be better if we recorded in the States, but we never have. We probably will eventually.

“You put a record of ours with an American record and don’t alter the volume, and you’ll find the American record is always that fraction louder. And it has a lucid something I can’t explain. Funny, because as I say, I believe we’re technically better in Britain.”

Paul shrugged. But he had the contented look of a young man who has just come up with something else to investigate and find out about.

There must be many a group starting out now who are spurred along by visions of what life at the top must be like when you finally get up there in the Beatles class. But Paul said that although you obviously pick up the luxuries, you also discover that you’re going short of a lot of things that less successful people have more time to enjoy.

“I suddenly realised that because of the Beatles, as far as my own life was concerned, I’d got in a very severe sort of rut. And we all had, because we all just seemed to be working only towards trying to get pop things done. And we saw that obviously we must have missed out on quite a few things.”

He grinned and nodded towards the piano in the corner. “Only the other day I was working out a number and I stopped and thought, ‘What a drag. I’m twenty-three and I’ve never learned to read music.’ And I found I was thinking to myself as if I was finished. So I said, ‘Why don’t I?’ And now I’m doing it.

“Sooner or later it hits you that the average span of the British male is seventy-five years and you’ve had more than twenty of them, so you better make the most of what’s left. Then the brain starts working, and John and I rush out and buy loads of books.

“I’m lazy, but I don’t like myself being lazy. So the only way out is to do something about it. Like I made myself listen to classical records, though nobody in our house ever liked them. When one came on they’d just turn it off. But I thought, ‘I’d better sort this out for myself and see whether I like it or not.’

“And in fact I don’t like a lot of it. It’s too fruity and sentimental. But from that you get on to what the modern composers are doing. And it’s suddenly great, because you discover that there are all these things going on.

“Then I play them to John and he says, ‘What a drag—all these millions of records coming out all the time and we’ve not been getting on to them.’ Then we rush out and buy loads of modern compositions.

“The only thing to do is to listen to everything and then make up your mind about it.”

And that’s the best advice you’ll ever get on this planet, friends. Because it works, not just in the world of music, but in every profession they ever invented. I know people with no special gifts who’ve made fortunes just by listening. Not eavesdropping . . . listening. And when you know, then you can really start moving.

Paul shares with Pete Townshend of The Who a taste for the music of Stockhausen, one of the modern German composers. “His ideas are fantastic. It’s the farthest-out music yet. He uses electronic stuff that nobody else has got round to. And his records are listed under the classical section in the catalogues. So if you’ve got it in your head that you don’t dig classical music, look what you’re shutting out.”

He shook his head. “You can’t go putting music into little categories like serious and Merseybeat and so on. The great thing is that it’s music, whatever label they try to stick on it.”

Paul said with quiet intensity, “You see, you’re going to have trouble getting but unless you have fairly solid opinions on things. You live in a muddle. as soon as I noticed myself saying ‘I don’t know’ I thought, ‘Well, you’ll have to try. Why don’t I know?’ Unless you get at it, by the time you do find out you’ll be ready to die.”

The Beatles have obviously been the single influence on pop for decades. But Paul admitted that this influence would never have come about if he, John, George and Ringo hadn’t been excited and stimulated by other people’s thoughts and ideas.

“The whole thing is about trying to contact people all the time. And with everything . . . plays, books, music. Even cooking. Anything that breaks down any kind of barrier and lets you get through to another human being . . . that’s it, that’s what valuable, that’s what matters.

“I think that’s why the whole being-English explosion has been such a success in America and everywhere else. It’s a genuine effort, and it’s working. Everybody in England has suddenly got just a little bit more interested in everything and everyone else. Britain has just climbed up on to another level, and it’s a wonderful thing.

“You ought to hear the people who come over here, the ones we talk to. They’re knocked out, because the idea they had of England before was just ridiculous. They believe the whole bowler-hat thing, thought the English were very reserved and very cold. When they go to a few parties and see what we’re really like, they’re amazed.

“Oh, sure, there’s been a change in us, all of us. But there’s a lot of people who’re still apathetic, who’ve got one fixed opinion. You know, the kind who say ‘I just like pop music or rhythm-and-blues or Edmundo Ros and don’t ever tell me about anything else because I don’t want to know’. They’re still scared to lay themselves open to any new influence. And they stay in the don’t-know rut for ever.

“As far as the Beatles are concerned, we can’t just stop where we are or there’s nothing left to do. We can go on trying to make popular records and it can get dead dull if we’re not trying to expand at all and move on into other things. Unless you’re careful you can be successful and unsuccessful at the same time.”

The next the Beatles do a television film, Paul said, they want to use many more of their own ideas instead of leaving it to the network’s camera crews. “The one they did while we were in America could have been so much better. It needed just that little extra bit of imagination.

“Instead of getting someone in to do the music and the sounds, we’d like to do it ourselves. Spend a long time on it and really work at it.

“We’re getting something that’ll really give us some experience with mixing up sound and film in that sort of way. It’s a gift Capitol Records gave us in the States, and it’s the greatest little present event.

“It’s a television recorder. You just plug it into your set and you record the programme straight off, just like on to a tape. You can record the BBC while you’re watching ITV and show the film on your telly at one o’clock in the morning if you want to. They said we’ll be the first people in England to have them.

“So what we’re going to do when they come is go out and shoot film, weird shapes and patterns and light, and record special weird music to go with it and then come back and play it at home on the television. And we’ll be able to find out what works and what doesn’t, so that when we do a proper full-scale film we’ll know exactly what to put in it.”

The telephone shrilled in the other room. I looked at my watch. Our quiet hour had ended. “It’s Brian Epstein’s office for Paul,” said Caroline.

If you’re a Beatle, the world doesn’t leave you alone for long. While Paul was on the phone, the chauffeur arrived to pick him up for another business meeting. And for another while at least, all the schemes would have to wait while Paul the person made way for Paul the star.

As we shook hands on his way out, I wondered how far he would have carried his plans, what new excitements would be gripping him, the next time we have the chance of a Heart-to-Heart. More than likely, he would have come in from the bachelor cold by then and followed the other Beatles into marriage.

One thing for sure, I thought. No kid of Paul McCartney’s will turn out to be a don’t-know.

I looked at the piano guiltily as the lift hummed down to the ground floor. After all this time, I should be able to play that machine with the best of them. Why can’t I? I sat down and got a little chord shape going.

“Alan,” said Caroline around the door. “Fred Thing wants to know if you can come over.”

One note out in the bass somewhere—that’s got it.

“Tell him I’d love to,” I said. “But I can’t now. I’m working on an idea.”

Till next month—stay bright!

#i had to request this issue from a research library on the other side of the country...! shoutout to librarians forever #paul mccartney #alan freeman #rave magazine #the beatles #transcript #1966 #scans

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goldencherriess · 2 years

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Waterloo || Loki x Mortal! Fem! Reader

Pairing: Loki x Mortal! Fem! Reader

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Loki finds her again and suddenly the skies turn blue.

Warnings: a sprinkle of angst that's basically insignificant because the whole chapter is fluffy and romantic

A/N: dropping an author's note here, before you start reading, just so I explain something. This chapter takes place during the silver jubilee of the queen, in the 70s. In no way did I do that on purpose, as she died recently. It's just pure coincidence. I needed a historical event that happened in the 70s in UK, and this one seemed to be perfect, as it could build up to a meet-cute. This is just a piece of fanfiction and it should be treated as such. Other than that, have fun reading xx

Previous part || Series masterlist

6 February 1977

London was a city of cloudy skies and rainy days. But the rare moments in which the sun decided to smile through them, brought sunshine into Y/N's heart.

She just let the sunrays kiss her face, as she took off her sunglasses and put them on her head. There were several United Kingdom flags fluttering in the wind that day. They were adorning the street lights and corners. The traffic was frozen, the boulevards letting open space to take over. People milled around her in groups, smiling excitedly and if she could pay close attention, she could hear the static sounds of the TVs and radios being carried by the breeze through the windows and balconies.

Today marks the Silver Jubilee of Her Highness, Queen Elizabeth II. Celebrations are held in front of the Buckingham Palace...

A cold wind picked up and she suddenly regretted for leaving the house without a jacket. Despite the sun shining through the clouds, the winter was still in full swing. She tightened the woolly, red scarf around her neck before she let her feet carry her forward to the crowd applauding in front of the Palace.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Loki hated crowds. It made him feel dizzy and breathless. Why did he ever come at all when all he got was a pounding in his head after some girl's way too sweet perfume tickled his nostrils when she passed by him? It twisted his stomach in notches.

But he knew why. He searched for her in every crowd, in every face. His heart broke a little bit more every time he couldn't seem to find her eyes, to see her sparkle in them. Sometimes, when he laid in bed at night, his mind would drift off to that fateful Christmas morning and he wondered if things were to be different if he was just awake. Aware. Present. But then, he scolded himself. It wasn't worth thinking about it. Because recalling that morning hurt like shards stuck in skin.

But she would always be worth the heartbreak.

The stomping of the horses' reached his ears and his gaze slipped towards a carriage. He recognized her from the magazines and the newspapers. The mortals called her a queen. She was waving towards the crowd, smiling. He breathed in, turning away from the scene when the wind blew, a red scarf hitting his face.

''Oh, that's mine, sorry!''

Music to his ears. Her voice. Loki could recognize her voice in sleep and in daydreams. It was at that moment that he started to believe in fate. There was no denying now. He could find her even at the end of time, but she still would be his. An underlying truth. A predestined moment.

He took away the scarf from his face and his eyes met hers. They were the same, even after all these years and he wondered if she was a beauty frozen in time. No matter how many times they'd meet, how many times her eyes would look into his, Loki would always feel mesmerized by her. As if he would saw for the very first time.

He handed her the scarf and she started smiling. ''Thank you.'' And then her eyebrows scrunched. ''Uh, pardon me, but do I know you from somewhere? You look familiar.''

Déjà vu.

''Maybe from another life.'' Loki replied, the corner of his eyes crinkling in a smile. She wore the sunrays around her head like a halo and it almost blinded him.

She laughed, shaking her head. ''Maybe.'' She then held her hand to shake his and Loki felt electricity flowing through them, pinching his skin. ''I'm Y/N.''

I know.

''Loki.''

''Would you like to get out of this crowd, Loki? Go somewhere nice?''

''Yes.''

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The heels of her boots were clinking against the pavement, almost in a drum manner. Her steps reflected one of those songs he heard the other day in passing. A reckless serenade. Loki glanced at her from the corner of his eyes and saw her shivering. He took off his own jacket and put it on her shoulders gently. ''You looked cold.'' he shrugged when she looked up at him questionably.

''Then you should take this.'' She took off her scarf and wrapped it around his neck, standing on her tip toes. She was close enough for him to inhale her perfume. Sweet with a hint of musk. ''A trade.'' she added as she took a step back.

Loki touched the scarf, the wool biting him slightly. The red of it stood out to him, screaming at him to remember something. And then he did. She wore it the very first time he ever laid eyes on her, all those centuries ago. Funny how fate weaves life into a full circle. He lifted his head and locked eyes with her. Her nose was slightly red from the cold. ''Thank you.''

She threw him a soft smile before her gaze drifted off to a shop in the corner of the street. Her face lit up and she took him by the hand, dragging him across the road. ''Do you drink coke?''

Loki's eyebrows pinched together. The word didn't ring a bell. He stopped trying midgardian things as they didn't bring him any joy without her besides him. ''It would be the first time, actually.'' he said in a meek voice.

''Then, you totally should try it!''

The sliding doors of the shop opened and she excitedly ran to the fridges, still holding his hand in hers. She opened one fridge, the cold hitting her and Loki in one freezing wave. Her flushed face cooled off and she took out two bottles, but Loki's hand on hers stopped her in her tracks. ''Just take one.''

Confusion overtook her features. ''Why?''

''Maybe I won't like it. Better safe than sorry.''

Her eyes studied him, searching for an answer, before she let a smile bloom on her lips. ''Yeah, okay. It's cheaper.''

And she was off to the cash register, leaving a rather starstruck Loki near the freezing refrigerators.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The drink was bursting colours and aromas on his tongue. It exploded. The coke was fizzing, pinching on his tongue, and swirling around. It was a sweet drink, much different than anything he had ever drunk before. It reminded him of cold afternoons and afire sunsets.

Y/N's eyebrows were raised as she watched him for a reaction. ''Well? Do you like it?''

Loki chuckled. ''It's a fun drink, certainly.''

She put her hands on her hips, looking up at him. ''Is that a yes or a no, mister Loki?''

He laughed again, looking deeply in her eyes. ''It's a yes.''

She squealed in triumph, before snatching the bottle from him. She wrapped her lips around the rim, taking a sip, her gaze never wavering from his. ''Say, where are you from?''

Loki's smile dropped. ''What?''

''Well, I mean you're not from here, are you?''

He avoided her gaze, as he took a few steps forward. The clinking of her heels told him she wasn't too far behind. ''How'd you figure that one out?''

''It's the way you hold yourself. Almost royally like.''

He stopped walking, turning to her. Her familiar words struck him. Even after all this time, he would still be surprised at how things repeated themselves. As if they were a broken record. As if he was a character stuck in a movie and Y/N was just playing herself over and over again. Or maybe he was just a spectator and the movie would end soon. He gulped thickly. ''I'm from far away.''

She hummed, content with the answer. ''I'm not. Born and raised in London. At least that's what I know. I never met my real parents.''

''Who raised you, then?'' he inquired even though he already knew the answer.

Y/N suddenly became shy, putting one hand in Loki's jacket and taking another sip of Coca Cola. ''His name is Garwin. I call him father, though.'' She nervously laughed. ''And I don't really know why I'm telling you all this. It's just- I feel like I can, as if I know you. Does that make any sense?''

Loki's heart swelled up. ''It does.''

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The sun was now slowly dipping down the horizon and Y/N was holding Loki's hand with a familiarity that warmed her soul. Every now and then, she would glance at him only to find him already looking at her. In that moment, blood coloured her cheeks in red and she had to avert her gaze just so she could remind herself how to breath again. She brought the drink to her lips, the rich aroma of it washing away some of her nerves.

''If you could, would you freeze time?'' Loki asked, taking his eyes off of her for the first time that day and looking at the sun setting through the buildings.

''No.'' she answered without hesitation.

''No?'' he turned his head towards her in surprise.

''No, why should I?''

''You'd get to live any moment forever. Wouldn't that be sweet?''

She shook her head, strands of hair falling into her eyes. ''It would lose its meaning. It's not a moment anymore. It's just... a tiresome eternity. Life's about living in the moment. Carpe diem, you know?''

Loki hummed, thinking, his thumb caressing the back of her hand. ''And if you had eternity?''

''I wouldn't want that either. It sounds lonely.''

Lonely.

A pang went through his chest. If she only knew how much he had missed her these past years, how he felt nights as heavy blankets crushing him and days like ovens burning his soul alive. If she only knew how she was the only remedy to all his misery, how with just a smile she soothed all his pain. How after all this time, he still chose her.

''I suppose you're right.'' he whispered into the evening.

''I'm always right.'' she joked, winking.

Then, a few musical notes travelled to them, through an open window and Y/N raised a finger to his lips, ears listening in. ''Wait, you hear that?''

Loki furrowed, slightly dazed by the feeling of her finger against his lips and he had to fight the urge to press a gentle kiss on it.

My, my

At Waterloo, Napoleon did surrender

Y/N gasped, eyes lighting up and grinning. ''ABBA! Oh, I love this song, Loki! Dance with me, please?''

Oh, yeah

And I have met my destiny in quite a similar way

Loki let out a chuckle escape his lips at her eagerness and took the bottle out of her hands, drinking from it one last time before throwing it away in a bin. Meeting her eyes, he gently clasped her left hand in his and lifted it to his lips, caressing it where a ring would be.

The history book on the shelf

Is always repeating itself

He twirled her around to the beat of the song, her laugh rising into the air.

Waterloo

Promise to love you forever more

Y/N then brought him closer, their chests touching. She smiled up at him before twirling him, standing on her tip toes as he was much taller than her, even when wearing heels.

Waterloo

Knowing my fate is to be with you

The street was spinning and his heart almost beat out of his chest. Loki met her gaze as she took a few steps forward and two steps back, hips moving and he tried to meet her moves, the cold air getting to his head.

So how could I ever refuse

I feel like I win when I lose

If he could close his eyes and listen in, he could hear the beating of both their hearts, hands holding, skin on skin. She glided towards him, hugging his waist with her free hand. He opened his eyes and looked down at Y/N. The sunset was casting orange hues over her face. She was glowing.

Finally facing my Waterloo

She tilted her head slightly towards him, noses touching. Their chests rose up and down, breathless and her eyelashes tickled his cheeks. ''Let me walk you home.'' he whispered against her lips.

''Alright.''

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The stars were twinkling in the sky, emitting a silver lining against the dark streets. Y/N was humming under her breath a song, swinging Loki's hand in hers back and forth, eyes fluttering shut in exhaustion.

He turned to look at her, admiring the way her hair bathed in the low silvery light of the stars. He thought she was only missing a pair of angel wings. A ghost of a smile was painting her lips and Loki felt his own lips curling up.

Her giggle broke through the silence, eyes opening. ''I just realized something.''

''What did you realize, darling?'' replied Loki softly.

''Out of everyone who could have caught my scarf, you did. It could had been anyone, really. But it wasn't.

''It must had been fate, then.''

Her eyes crinkled happily, the shadow of a smile. Silence settled over them both, the moon high in the sky. They passed by a tailor shop and Y/N abruptly stopped, looking through the windows. Loki turned to look at her, but didn't dare to break the tranquility. Her eyebrows were scrunched up, a look of longing in her eyes. ''I want to buy a sewing machine.'' she eventually said, not taking her eyes off of the mannequins and fabrics. ''I want to learn how to make dresses, and pants and those beautiful blouses that only rich people seem to afford, but it's only the fabric's quality giving that illusion.''

''You'd be great at it.'' said Loki, sure of his words. Because she had done it before, her hands were made to convert textiles into exquisite clothing, to play them into shimmering dreams.

''You really think so?'' Y/N asked, meeting his eyes, emotions swirling in them.

Loki nodded. ''I know so.'' He really did. How could he not when he saw her doing it before? Les petites mains. Her hands worked magic with a sewing machine and a few velvety fabrics.

She smiled. ''When's your birthday, Loki?''

''Why do you ask?''

Y/N shyly shrugged. ''So, maybe I can make you something. A green scarf. It would suit you.''

''That's very sweet of you, darling, but I'd rather much prefer you spending time with me.''

A pink dusted her cheeks. ''I'll still make you something.''

''As you wish.'' he smiled.

She skipped a few steps, before stopping in front of him. ''My birthday is on 25th of December.''

Loki froze. 25th of December. ''That's-''

''On Christmas, I know.''

On Christmas.

''What year?'' he asked shakily.

''1950. Why?''

1950. 25th of December 1950. The same day she died, hitting her head on an icy street. The same day he lost his heart again, only to somehow find it twenty seven years later. An ironic laugh threatened to escape his lips. Time and fate. Fate and time.

''No reason at all, darling. Just happy to find you.'' he replied, taking her hand.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Her house was one covered in ivy vines. A few cracks broke through the smooth surface of it and Loki realized it was an old one. A house that saw many centuries, perhaps. He quickly came to the conclusion that it was the same house her father's banquet was held in all those centuries ago.

She stopped walking in front of the door, turning her whole body towards him. ''You can't come in, my father's home.''

Loki swore he saw a hint of a blush on her cheeks. ''That's alright. Wasn't expecting to get invited in, anyway.''

Suddenly remembering his jacket draped over her, she hastily tried taking it off, only for Loki's cold hands to stop her. ''No, please, keep it. It's yours now.''

She lifted her head to meet his gaze, before her eyes slid over to her scarf around his neck. ''Then, you keep the scarf.'' She stood on her tip toes, planting a kiss on his cheek. ''A trade.'' she whispered.

Smiling ever so lightly, she opened the door. ''Good night, Loki.''

''Good night., darling''

And then, he was left alone on the porch, cheeks red and eyes sparkling.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

A/N: And so they meet again... Dancing definitely became their thing, as I wrote a dancing scene in every chapter so far. Also, can you imagine Loki wearing one of those high waisted and flared, 70s pants? Cause I can't lmao.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked this chapter. Any kind of feedback is greatly appreciated. If you want to be added to my main tag list or the series tag list, comment under this post or send me an ask!

Main tag list: @bohemianrhapsody86 @andreead

Series tag list: @mischief2sarawr @mochie85 @strrvnge @salempoe @xorpsbane @huntress-artemiss @123forgottherest @glitterylokislut @lokidbadguy

#Spotify #loki x fem!reader #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki #x reader #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #reincarnation au #soulmates au #reader insert #fanfic writing #writing #my writing #masterlist #laura writes #time after time

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bluejaysandblackbats · 3 months

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Space Oddity

Fandom: DC Comics, Titans (Fab Five)

Summary: Garth grew up in a carnival freakshow, and he never thought about the world outside the glass walls of the Aquarium until a group of kids befriended him. Their love and interest in finding his people might be the key to escaping the silent horrors of his home life at the carnival.

Chapters: 2/?

Characters: Garth of Shayeris, Donna Troy, Wally West, Dick Grayson, Roy Harper, Original Character(s)

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tags: Carnival AU, Developing Friendships, Rescue, 60's AU, 70's AU, No Capes AU, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Childhood Trauma, Lies, Escape, Childhood Memories, Team Bonding, Fish out of Water, Tiny Garth, Beaches, Angst with a Happy Ending, Found Family, Road Trip, First Person POV, POV Garth of Shayeris

Chapter Two: Tapped Glass

I saw the little girl the day after we met, but she wasn’t with the older girl. She was with Fisher, and she carried two little baskets with her. I watched as Fisher and the little girl spoke to each other, and he escorted her up the stepladder. He’d never done that before. She looked to Fisher for reassurance, and he nodded, gesturing for her to go. She waved at me from the top of the ladder as she dropped a basket into the water. I didn’t grab it right away. I swam behind my cave and broke off a piece of blue microalgae to give to her. I didn’t poke my head above the water. But I got to feel her hand. I hesitated a moment before letting go and opening my basket. She’d gifted me a basket of big strange-colored apples. I’d never had an apple that color before.

She opened her basket and ate an apple of her own. She gave me the go-ahead, and I bit into mine. It was the sweetest, juiciest apple I’d ever eaten. I sank to the bottom of the tank and sat cross-legged across from her eating it. I’ll never forget that moment. I’ll never forget the little girl in her red flower dress and her big strange-colored apple. I was still hungry from missing supper despite having breakfast, so the apple filled my belly enough to put a smile on my face. I only ate one apple, though. It felt selfish to keep them all to myself, so I decided to stash away the rest for the others at dinnertime. She politely wrapped her apple in a napkin afterward, and I copied her by wrapping my apple in kelp. She giggled, covering her mouth with one hand. I never noticed the flash of cameras. I only saw the pictures a few months after she’d gone when the Aquarium got more crowded than it should’ve been for fall. Fisher yanked me out of the tank in the early morning and showed me myself and the girl on the cover of a magazine.

I was still shaking from being fished out of the tank in the middle of my sleep. I couldn’t hear Fisher, but he popped a cherry sour into my mouth. I smiled at the taste. I rarely received candy, so I knew I must’ve done something spectacular. “We’re keeping lunch in the tank, Fishy,” Fisher smiled.

“Could I have another?” I asked.

“Have the whole bag, Fishy,” Fisher grinned as he gave me the small candy pouch.

“Did you get candy for the others?” I questioned. Fisher nodded.

“This is all yours-.”

Howard, the clown, stormed in. I could tell he was upset because his makeup ran down his face. “Fisher! My act-.”

“What about your act, Howard?” Fisher asked.

“This isn’t something I should say in front of Fish. You can’t expect me to relay such painful-.”

“Howard! I’ll cover the kid’s ears. Just say it!” Fisher shouted as he took my candy and dropped me into the tank. I swam out of sight to the other side of the Aquarium to listen without being seen. “What is it, Howie?”

“Sonny is dead,” Howard whispered.

Fisher sighed. “That is a problem…” Fisher sucked his teeth. “You wanna use Fishy? We could put some of that waterproof makeup on him.”

“What about his show in the tank?” Howard asked.

“You’ll do your show in here with him… You can use him for a morning show and an afternoon show. Can you handle going solo in between the morning and afternoon stuff?” Fisher asked.

“He’ll be okay with that?” Howard asked.

Howard left, and Fisher walked around the Aquarium, searching for me. I poked my head above the water, and Fisher whistled. I want you to take Sonny’s place for a few days. We’ll close down, so Howie can teach you the routine,” Fisher explained.

I waited for Fisher to climb up the stepladder and pick me up. I wanted to tell him I was scared. I wanted to tell him I didn’t want to do it. Instead, I asked a single question. “What about today?”

He returned my candy to me and rubbed my back. “Today, we operate like normal. I want you to play the same as you always do. Can you do that for me?” Fisher asked. I nodded. For reasons I couldn’t comprehend, I was Fisher’s special boy for that short time.

And I met a special boy too! He came in the early morning with a man and woman with a camera and a pointy hat like Howard wore as Giggles. He approached the tank when he saw me and waved as if we were longtime friends. I smiled and waved. He said something, and I tapped my ears. He tapped his camera and pointed at me. No one ever asked for permission to photograph me before. I nodded and let him take pictures of me, and the man and woman said something before he turned to them. The man took pictures of the woman, the boy, and me. Then, he followed me around my tank. I swam faster and let him chase me around the Aquarium until I swam face-first into the glass. My nose gushed blood, startling me, and I swam behind a cluster of sea plants so he couldn't see me crying. He stood close to the glass and said something, and I tapped my ears, explaining that I couldn't hear him.

He held his finger up, and I nodded. He turned to the man and woman while I held my nose. The woman gave him a writing pad, and he scrawled something. He held the pad up to the glass. The words read, "Can you read?" I nodded. None of the guests tried communicating with me while I was in the tank. He wrote something else. "Are you okay? I'm sorry you hurt your face."

I gave him a thumb's up. "What's your name? My name is Wally."

I fogged up the glass and spelled my name. Wally cocked his head, and the lady held a mirror to the glass before saying something. He nodded.

"My uncle wants someone to check your nose. Is that okay?"

I nodded. It still hurt and wouldn't stop bleeding. Fisher came and tapped the glass with one finger. Morse code. “Hurt?” Fisher asked.

“Yes,” I tapped in reply.

“Want Doc?” Fisher asked.

“No,” I replied.

Fisher smiled at me before turning toward Wally and his family. Wally came toward the glass and wrote something else before scribbling it out. After a while of him doing that, he finally held a message to the glass. “I like you a lot. I’m coming back tomorrow.”

I wrote in the glass again. “Can’t wait!” The woman held her mirror to my message. Wally grinned. He waved at me, and I waved back.

Once he was out of sight, I said his name to myself. “Wally.” I twirled in the water until I made my own small tornado.

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marzipanandminutiae · 2 years

Note

In the OT3verse, how do Edith and Lucille adapt to the changing attitudes, world events, and fashions of the early 20th century? How about Thomas?

Edith picks and chooses, I think. In terms of attitudes and aesthetics. Adopting what appeals to her and continuing as she always has for the rest. I have a headcanon that, in the 1920s, a pack of Bright Young Things becomes absolutely enamored with her and adopts her as their Cool Aunt. She hosts salons and attends the more subdued and literary of their parties. At least half the group is madly in love with her- men and women alike.

Alan's sister-in-law- the sister of his wife, Charlotte, who I have a whole other slew of headcanons about -politely suggests around 1927 that Edith let her ear piercings close up. It was a barbaric custom, after all, and what sort of example is she setting to Young Ladies growing up in a more enlightened time?

Edith takes to wearing the largest, dangliest earrings she can find whenever she visits the McMichaels.

Thomas is enchanted by the explosion of new technology. Telephones! Electricity becoming more widespread! Look, you can hear someone acting a play hundreds of miles away- it's called "radio!" Films are LONGER THAN 7 MINUTES NOW? WAIT WAIT FILMS HAVE SOUND?!

PEOPLE. ARE. FLYING.

He subscribes to a dozen different mechanical and scientific magazines, and travels to demonstrations of the new marvels when he can. Fortunately he's too old to be called up when WWI breaks out, but the British government "conscripts" his engineering skills instead. Having been the indirect cause of so much death...doesn't help his amount of guilt and trauma going forward. To say the least.

He doesn't lean too hard into changing aesthetics, though, mostly because of...

...Lucille, for whom all of this might as well not be happening. If the changes between ~1880 and 1901 didn't interest her, the rest of the 20th century cuts no ice at all. She continues wearing Natural Form. She seldom leaves the estate. All she wants, as ever, is to be at home with her People and her piano and her butterflies. Home is safe. Home is a known quantity. Home is waking up with Thomas on one side of her and Edith on the other and feeling herself loved.

Edith goes off to be a nurse when the war breaks out, and it almost kills her. At least when Thomas travels, he's not going to a battlefield where anything might happen. At the onset of WWII, she's quick to take the party line that a dignified matron of Edith's age has no business haring off to the front. Edith yields to pressure- not that it takes much -and fundraises from home instead.

(Rationing holds no terror for the residents of Allerdale Hall, accustomed as they are to reduced circumstances. And Lucille has a kitchen garden anyway, in a little hothouse Thomas built for her ages ago. It yields enough to keep them from privation, though thankfully not enough for the military to requisition any of their produce.)

(Some of it has to be converted from growing toxic plants to growing squash and lettuces, much to its owner's chagrin. But we're all making sacrifices in wartime, aren't we?)

Lucille tuts over the shifts in Edith's wardrobe as time wears on- "really, that dress looks like a feed sack, and what on earth is the fabric?" -but not enough changes to truly upset her. She hides in the attic on the rare occasions when Edith's pet literary twentysomethings spend a weekend at Allerdale, and when one slightly tipsy flapper spots her, it gives rise to legends of a particularly elegant ghost wandering the hallowed halls.

Thomas dies in 1954 (cancer); Lucille in 1960 (heart failure). They both continue much as they always have, albeit rather more black and translucent, until Edith takes her leave of the world in 1968 (car accident, surprisingly enough).

And what happens next- a triple haunting or a quiet passage to the next world? I'll leave that up to you.

#ask #anon #crimson peak #cpeak #long post #headcanons

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shreddedparchment · 4 years

Text

A Wife for Thor Pt.02

10/19/2020

No Lies in a Marriage

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 5,150

Warnings: angst, anxiety, panic attack, language

A/N: As I said in the post earlier today, you’ll probably see updates for this story often right now because it’s at the beginning and I know where I’m going pretty clearly and how to get there and it’s kinda just writing itself for right now. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter! I love writing this reader with Thor...but I think it’s just because I love writing Thor. haha If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

You sit up most of the night after talking to David, staring out your bedroom window at the small plot of land you call your own.

Your belonging. The only true one you’ve ever had.

It’s a small inheritance, sure but it’s yours. Yours alone. A sanctuary from the feeling of emptiness that you’d once felt wishing for something that felt like home. It’s more than even some will ever have.

You’re lucky.

And now you have to leave it behind?

There’s no denying your own part in this mess. You’d been given a choice and you’d made it, believe this outcome would never come. Yet here you are, betrothed and fated to be Queen of Asgard.

David comes to help you pack because he knows that you’ll be wallowing.

In shock you pack just as asked, essentials only which means for you, only your clothing, your laptop, and a very small collection of books are chosen.

You have no pictures to take with you. No family heirlooms or sentimental possessions. You fit it all into one large suitcase.

Funny. As you pack, you can’t help but imagine the lives your nomadic ancestors had lived. Much like you in these moments as you pack what little you have of your life away; they must have left everything behind over and over in their search for their own belonging.

It only takes you two hours to pack once David arrives and together you lug the suitcase down your little hallway to the front door.

There, a beautiful Asgardian stands waiting, her eyes on your own foggy expression with slight concern as David joins her and they lapse into quiet conversation as you continue to space out, thinking about the life you’re leaving behind.

Really, if you’re honest, it isn’t much of a life.

Yes, you have your routine. This is your house. Your things. But aside from that, there’s nothing here. Nothing but independence and solitude.

That’s enough, some would say. Others would wonder what you do with all your time.

Why hadn’t you found someone to share this life with? Someone who could appreciate the coziness of this place with you.

“Are you ready?” The Asgardian asks, Brunnhilde, her voice smooth but stern, yet not unkind.

You turn to look at her, hair gathered up on her head in a large bun. She’s dressed for the Norwegian weather she’s come from despite it being significantly hotter here.

She’s not bothered by it. Or if she is, she hides it well.

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“No.” She smiles at you, cheek bones so rounded and pretty you almost want to stroke them because you’ve rarely seen anyone so beautiful.

All of the Asgardians are beyond compare when it comes to looks. Even those that are plain radiate a golden aura. Godlike. Thor’s is the strongest and he’s most certainly the most beautiful to look at.

You’d been too afraid to admit it to yourself before because you’d been so decided against marrying him, but Thor is by far the loveliest man you’ve ever seen. Ideal. He’s exquisite.

And you get to marry him. Which doesn’t exactly feel like a bad thing.

Being chosen to marry Thor would be amazing, given the fantasies you’ve allowed yourself to indulge in since the day you met with him, if not for the fact that you know he’s in love with someone else. Someone who won’t marry him. Someone stupid, obviously.

And those fantasies you’d indulged in would never happen with someone else in his heart. So without that, all you have left is duty. Duty to Earth and its people, ensuring their safety and though you honestly don’t think Earth needs it, the assurance from the Asgardians that they will respect humans as the dominant lifeform on the planet.

Yes, the whole Queen of Asgard thing is a little daunting and will probably take over your life, so you can’t blame this mystery woman for not wanting to give up her own pursuits to take care of an entire people. To give up one identity for another? Yours is close enough to blank—your life nearly empty—that for you, this might not be such a great loss and yet, this leaves you wondering what this will do for you career.

Small as it is, you’ve had two books published. Limited releases with not much traction. Still, the accomplishment is your own. One you’re proud of.

Will you have to stop writing?

“There will be a dinner, to introduce you to Thor’s inner circle. Myself, Loki, a few others that serve directly under him.” Brunnhilde is saying, pulling you back to reality.

You look around, having zoned out so thoroughly that you hadn’t even realized you’d boarded a plane and taken off.

“The only one you’ll have to watch out for is Sif. She’s usually pretty nice, but she’s a little miffed about the whole marriage situation. From what I’ve heard, she’s had a thing for Thor since they were children. She’s a fierce warrior. Might want to avoid her altogether if possible. Asgardian women can be a little territorial.”

Lovely, another rival.

“So can human women.” You grumble, already hating the looks of what you suppose will be an onslaught of distractions for your future husband in the forms of beautiful women.

Brunnhilde quirks a brow, raising it high as she considers your words but doesn’t comment further.

“He’s never seen her as more than a comrade in arms. Or so he says.” She sounds unconvinced, but you recognize her attempt to calm you.

You stare, saying nothing more as your world is overturned.

“After dinner, you’ll spend some time with Thor. He wants to talk to you a bit. The wedding will be on Thursday. Thor’s idea. Full of himself, the idiot.” She’s smiling as she insults him, flipping the page of a magazine she’d grabbed from the pocket of the seat in front of her and you realize they must be close friends.

“Did he really pick me?” You wonder, knowing that her personality will only let her answer one way.

Brutally honest.

“Against all our recommendations.” She tells you. “Most of us were pulling for the Hungarian one. She had the schooling and the training. A little too eager for Thor, or so he said. And Loki. Loki was also in favor of you.”

“Loki?!” You gasp, remembering with great detail your chance meeting with the Asgardian prince.

“Oh yeah.”

Why would Loki want Thor to choose you? You weren’t exactly nice to him. Then again, you weren’t really mean either. Just…blunt.

More importantly, after the awkward conversation with Thor and his admission to marrying despite his feelings for someone else, his choice is the most confusing.

“Why did he pick me?” You plead. “Thor.”

“You’ll have to ask him tonight after dinner. I couldn’t tell you other than that he said he wanted someone real. Someone who knew what it’s like to be a normal person. Whatever that means.” Brunnhilde shrugs. “Normal is all relative. Odin, I need a drink.”

The plane ride is over too quickly and the ride to New Asgard even shorter. The village is large but not much larger than the town you’d grown up in. Plenty of houses and public spaces but nothing like a cityscape.

You’re surprised by the more modest choices they’ve made for their homes. Simple houses with wood siding and strong rooftops.

That is, most of the village is modest. Almost at the center of the largest grouping of buildings is a large multi-storied palace.

Just as it did the first time you saw it when you’d been brought for the meeting, you gasp when you see it, admiring the beauty of the structure bathed in afternoon sunlight.

It reminds you of an old Nordic home you’d seen online only on steroids. Four, maybe five stories? All roofs are tall and sharp, parts covered with moss.

Brunnhilde shows you into the main foyer, large and tall room that allows space large enough for people to stand and chat. Here she leaves you and David with a young Asgardian woman. She looks as if she can’t be more than seventeen but from what you know about Asgardian aging, she’s probably hundreds of years old.

She escorts you both to your new room, and you and David gasp at the sight.

Even though it’s smaller than the sitting room you’d been in when you met with Thor before, there’s a large bed immediately to the right, covered in luxurious plum and silver silk sheets. A large dark brown bear skin rug covers the center of the floor. To the left is an extravagant dark oak armoire, beside it a matching vanity with a low cushioned and backless seat.

On the far wall, between two sets of heavy wooden double doors that lead out to a balcony sits a desk and another seat with a black cushion, the same style as the vanity’s chair.

There’s a low hanging chandelier made of intricately twisted wood, reinforced with dark steel. The design of it makes you think there should be candles, but instead you find it furnished with small flame-shaped lightbulbs.

Along each of the walls are beautiful artworks, one of a singular mountain you’ve never seen on Earth. Another a golden palace with a sky of literal space above and behind it. There’s a smaller painting almost right above the bed and the likeness of it is so precise, you gasp again.

David follows your gaze with his mouth hanging open a little but then he chuckles. It’s a throaty sound as he turns away from you and moves further into the room with your bag while you deposit your purse on the bed, eyes glued to the painting.

“These Asgardians seem to be experts at everything.” David says, conversationally. “Their architecture, their music, their wits in battle. It seems even their art is exceptional.”

You’re still too busy staring to reply.

When David speaks again, he’s right beside you, voice dropped in volume.

“It must really look like him, to have you rendered speechless.” He observes.

“Yes.” You agree. “Just like him. Only now he has the eyepatch. He looks the same with two eyes. Less rugged but the same.”

“And he will remain the same, long after you’ve died, I think.” David admits.

“Yeah…” You swallow, looking down at the bottom of the frame.

The thought had only begun to occur to you when you’d been making your way through the city after Brunnhilde had confessed to being over a thousand years older than Thor and Loki.

“For Thor, this marriage will pass in the blink of an eye.” You sigh, feeling a little saddened by truth of that.

You turn around and sit down on the bed, resting your hands on your knees limply as you stare at the floor.

David squats before you, forearms on his knees.

“You’re serving a great purpose.” He tells you. “Ensuring the safety of the human race. You’re the white flag the Asgardians are waving. History will remember you, Y/N. It will not be in vain.”

Your eyes begin to water, and you nod, knowing he’s right.

“I know I just…” Your head gives an involuntary turn towards Thor’s portrait, but you manage to keep yourself from looking. “He’s in love with someone already. And, yeah, I’d never thought about being with someone before. But now that I’m faced with it, now that I know I’ll be his wife—I don’t know that I don’t want him to like me.”

“He may come around.” David consoles. “You’re a pretty girl and nice, even though you bite.”

His teasing draw a small curve of your lips. The levity however is quickly lost at the prospect of your life stretched out before you, never knowing love as your husband covets another woman.

This isn’t what you’d expected. To be fair you hadn’t expected anything, but now the idea of being married to Thor knowing that he’d much prefer if you were someone else hurts you in a way you didn’t know had been possible.

This ache in your chest feels strange and vivid and unbearable.

Your tears flow. David sighs and reaches up to wipe your cheeks, pulling you in for a hug.

Taking his offered comfort, you hide your face against his shoulder, allowing yourself these few moments to really feel the anxiety and sadness this whole thing has brought.

“I’m sorry.” David tells you, his voice steady but sad. “I wish I could give you a better life. I know that this is not what you parents would have wanted.”

You pull back, shaking your head as you gather yourself. “No, David. You’ve been the most supportive person in my life. This is how it’s supposed to be. Otherwise, why would I have the ancestors I have, right?”

David sighs, reaching up to wipe at your cheek.

“Besides, it’s not like I’ll be truly suffering. Not like other people do. I’ll have a good roof over my head, food, money won’t be a worry. How many other people my age can say that?”

David’s gaze becomes skeptical and he purses his thin lips a little. “Is that really how you feel?”

“Fuck no. This whole thing is complete shit.” You argue, then laugh as David chuckles too.

“There’s that fighting spirit. Keep that fire, Princess, and you’ll find a way through this.” He says, and the way the word Princess rolls of his lips makes you feel the way you’d always thought you’d feel had your dad lived to be a part of your life.

“You say that like it’s easy.” You sigh.

Before he can answer, there’s a knock on the door and it opens.

Both you and David shoot up to your feet as Loki walks in.

He’s smiling politely until he sees your face.

“I’m sorry. Am I intruding?” Loki wonders, as you quickly wipe away the tears left on your cheeks.

“No.” You shake your head quickly, voice thicker than when you arrived because of your break down. “No. Of course not. Come in.”

He doesn’t look convinced and his brow is furrowed as he looks you both over then stands with his hands behind his back. He looks neat and exotic wearing a pair of dark pants, a black top with embellishments in stunning emerald, a thin golden chain connecting each side of his high collar to the other.

“I’ve come to make sure that you find the clothing we’ve left for you.” Loki gestures at the armoire.

“I’m-I can’t wear what I brought?” You ask, pressing your hand to your chest, unintentionally sniffing.

“Tonight, you will meet with my brother’s court. It is a formal event that you must attend wearing slightly more traditional Asgardian garb.” Loki replaces his hands behind his back. “Brunnhilde has chosen something she thought would be your color. You have an hour then we’ll send your maid in to fetch you.”

You nod.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Loki asks again.

“You’re surprisingly worried.” You tell him, David moving to open the armoire and get a look at what you’re going to have to wear.

Loki’s face quickly shifts into a smile, his eyes averted as he nods.

“I hear you were the only person other than Thor who chose me.” You sit back down slowly, your hands softly skating over the cool silky sheets. “Why?”

“You were a breath of fresh air.” He admits. “Compared to the other candidates, you seemed the only one with her feet on the ground.”

Looking away from him you pinch the plum sheets.

“Is that why Thor chose me too?” You ask, knowing it isn’t the reason he chose you.

“Whatever the reason,” Loki begins, and his voice is stern enough to draw your gaze. “I’m certain my brother has nothing but honorable intentions. He’s always been the good one.”

“I think that’s true.” You nod, “He has always been the good one, if the stories are to be believed.”

“I make no excuses for who I was.” Loki assures you.

“But I think you and I both know that Thor’s intentions when it comes to me are anything but honorable.” You smile sadly. “I really hate lying. Let’s not lie to each other. We’re family, right? Or will be.”

Loki’s look remains somber, his eyes far away for a moment.

“You’re the right woman for the job. That is the truth.” Loki admits.

“I guess we’ll see.”

Loki nods. “One hour, your highness.”

His words give you a shock, and your left gaping at him as he leaves and shuts the door behind him.

“Well, that sounded strange.” David admits, “But not as strange as this dress. Well, perhaps strange is not the right word.”

You’re still reeling from the your highness as you get and walk to David that it takes your eyes a moment to process the sight before you.

“I am not wearing that.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“I can’t breathe in this thing!” You whine, hooking your fingers into the ultra-high neckline of your dress.

It’s more like a cage, this piece that goes around your throat and shoulders. It connects to a slightly see-through bodice with soft split threads lining the length of the dress, underneath the top, silver layer is a soft pink one that stands pretty against your skin. It gives the dress depth and offers a pleasant backdrop for the waterfall skirt as it fans out around your feet.

The lattice neckpiece connects to the dress’s neckline with four stiff wire connectors wrapped in the same silver fabric as the rest of the dress.

Your hair, your maid expertly gathered atop your head, shaping it to look as much like you as it can but also keeping it contained with several silver Celtic knot-looking clips. She’d added very little color to your face, telling you that Thor had requested you look as much like yourself as possible so that his court could see the real you.

Even so, you’re overwhelmed by what you see in the mirror as you pass a particularly large one as you and David make your way to the dining hall.

“Don’t fret.” David tells you, reaching over to stop your wringing hands. “Just be yourself. That’s why he chose you.”

“So, what you’re saying is to not be myself.” You nod. “Got it.”

David pulls you to a stop, turning you to face him. Your maid, Estrid, keeps walking a bit then stops leaving you both some space.

“I want you to remember something, Y/N.” David says, low and quiet so that only you can hear him. Well, he doesn’t know that Asgardians have better than human hearing, but whatever. “These people, they need you. They need you. More than you will ever need them.

“Without you, they might have to leave Earth because Thor will never turn against the human race. I don’t know why. We’re not that great.” David shrugs, and your mouth pops open as you breathe a pained gasp.

In this moment, with David’s helpful words, you’re provided with astounding clarity.

“She’s human.” You realize, eyes watering.

It happens so quickly, your breath catches, brain in a frenzy, hands shaking, sweating, your tears flow freely.

You’ve never cried so much in your life and you understand now that this will be your new state of being because what else can you do when you’ve knowingly given your life to a man who loves another human woman which only means that she will also only live for a short time and that means that Thor doesn’t have a lot of time with her so, of course he’ll want to be with her until the day she dies, because she’s the one he really wants to be with, and you’re just the tool to use so that he can stay here with her.

What kind of life have you fated yourself to?

“Your Highness?” Estrid asks, concern painting her voice as you shake your head, too panicked to speak.

David moves you towards the wall, pressing you against it to lean as Estrid moves closer to peek at you.

“Might I be of assistance?” She offers and David turns a smile on her.

“A glass of water, perhaps?”

Estrid hurries away giving you and David the hallway.

“Y/N?” He says, voice hard. “Breathe.”

You look at him, focus on the streak of white in his hair as it falls forward to hang across his brow.

It helps and you shut your mouth and breathe in deep through your nose.

He reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulls from it a white handkerchief. With gentle fingers, he coaxes your face up so that he can carefully wipe the tear stains from your cheeks. He takes a bit of the blush they’d put on you, but you don’t care, and he doesn’t either.

“What is it that troubles you? Tell me.” He urges you.

“Um…” You begin, chin quivering and making your voice shake a little. “…I-I-I don’t know how I’m going to be married to him when I kn-know that he really wants to be with s-someone else. I don’t know how…how…how…”

David sighs, shaking his head as he caresses yours. “Then you look elsewhere too. If he sees fit to be with someone else while you’re married, then you deserve to experience love too. Take a lover. Be discreet. No one will know and you will both get what you want.”

“Isn’t that wrong?” You half cry. “I mean, aren’t wives and husbands s-supposed to be faithful?”

David smiles, pulling your head down to kiss your forehead. “Then give him a chance to change his mind. If he doesn’t love you by the end of the year, then he’s a bigger fool than I already think he is. A downright dumbass.”

“I don’t like the idea of someone being with me when they don’t want to be.” You admit.

And David doesn’t need you to explain that this stems from living in the school, waiting for adoption only to never be chosen.

You’ve finally been picked, and this is what it’s for?

“Do you want me to come to dinner? I can insist on it.” He promises. “I’ll even make a scene.”

You shut your eyes and sob once, David pulls you against his chest and once more you hide your face against his shoulder.

Both of you hear her steps before you see her and yet, when you turn to accept your water, you’re frozen as you find yourself face to face with Thor.

He’s dressed beautifully, in black leather trousers, stitched with thick visible charcoal colored strips of more leather. His torso is covered in what you’d consider light armor. More leather pieces in deep gold tones except for the arms which are covered in metallic scales that shine under the hallway lights. His shoulders are draped in a floor length cape, black, thinner than the one you’ve seen him wear before.

A more casual cape, you suppose.

Both you and David are absolutely still, confused by Thor’s sudden appearance.

“I uh…” Thor looks uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he gestures behind him with his right hand, in his left a glass of water. “Estrid looked upset. She said you weren’t feeling well?”

There’s genuine concern in his voice and it surprises you enough to wipe away most of your worries for now.

“I’m fine.” You assure him.

David clears his throat. “I should go. I have my own dinner to eat.”

“No, please. Join us.” Thor rushes to invite him, gesturing back towards the dining hall again.

“No, no. Really.” David uses his hand to refuse, then reaches down to give your hand a squeeze. “Can I trust you to escort Y/N to dinner?”

Your heart swells for David, once again, the father you never had.

“Of course.” Thor nods, smiling at David before moving to you, seeing this as permission to move closer maybe? “I take full responsibility.”

There’s a twinge of bitterness in your chest, a rolling in your stomach as you see David narrow his eyes at Thor.

“I’m going to hold you to that, God of Thunder.” He threatens, and Thor seems to realize it’s a threat because he looks startled. However, he smiles and plays it off quickly, nodding. “Have a good dinner, princess.”

David gives your hand one more squeeze before leaving you and Thor to whatever awkward conversation you’re about to have.

Thor waits until you’re both alone in the hallway before he holds out the glass of water he’d brought for you.

“Have you been crying?” He wonders, voice soft and gentle. Deep too, it settles in your chest and makes you feel stupid for liking it.

“Just a little.” You admit.

“Why?”

“I’m nervous.” And that isn’t a lie. “And apprehensive.”

Also, not a lie.

“And I don’t trust you.” You confess, feeling no qualms about the shock that flits across his rugged face.

“What did I do?” He cries.

“You told me you’re in love with someone else who won’t marry you.” You sigh, taking a long drink of your water. “I’m not exactly excited to be marrying someone who already wants to be with someone else.”

Understanding shifts his expression and he nods, reaching up to scratch at the side of his chin.

“I’ll be honest,” He begins, offering you his arm as you lower your glass. “It was never something I expected either. After watching my parents love each other for many years, their marriage was something I hoped I could experience.”

“Then why didn’t you fight harder for this woman you love? Convince your court! She’s human, right? I’m sure the Earth Ambassadors would be happy to have you marry any human.” You reason, still hoping to get out of this even if the only thing you hate about this now is the fact that he’s in love with someone else.

That fantasy marriage you’d painted for yourself has taken over your inexperienced brain and planted a seed within your heart and you feel like a fool for it.

“They were fine with it. Jane is not ready for marriage and I cannot force her to marry me if she doesn’t want to.” Thor laments, truly sounding sad about her refusal.

“Doesn’t she care that you’re marrying someone else?” You wonder, watching his expression as he begins to lead you towards the dining hall.

“In a way.” Thor nods. “She and I want to be together, but Jane is devoted to her work. She could not make the time for the obligations marrying me would entail.”

“Sounds selfish.” You observe, hating Jane a bit because she has what you didn’t know you wanted. Maybe not exactly Thor himself yet, but the love he has for her.

Thor says nothing for a moment, thinking probably. He stops walking and you stop beside him.

“I would not want her to give up her passions. In marrying me, Jane would lose her identity. Which is too important to her to give up. I could never ask her to do it.”

“Because you love her.” You agree.

“Yes.”

“Which is why you find it so easy to do it to me.” You explain, realizing it as you speak it. “Because you don’t care about me. Therefore, my identity has little value. To you.”

Thor’s speechless, staring at you as your own heart pounds. You don’t know where you conjured the audacity to say the words out loud as they came to you, but they’re true. Truer than even you know.

“I do care.” Thor argues softly, looking at your hand wrapped around his bicep.

“You don’t, Thor.” You shake your head, politely disagreeing.

“Yes, I do!” He argues, this time a little more heated.

“What do I do for a living?” You challenge and he stutters, thinking hard.

He furrows his brow, crinkly creases at the corners of his eyes as he ponders.

You observe it’s loveliness. Truly a creature of perfection even with the gold and black metal patch over his eye. If he cared about you, you might actually fall for him. If he gave two shits, you might be a goner.

“Your family left you an inheritance!” He points out, as if this is what you do.

“You don’t remember?” You ask, knowing the answer. “I told you when we met, though I only mentioned it in passing.”

“How am I expected to remember then? If you were not specific?” He retorts.

“If I’d been Jane, you would have remembered.” You tell him.

“No.” He disagrees. “I’m always this inattentive.”

You laugh once, shocked by his candor. “You’re such a liar.”

“I’m not! Ask anyone once we’re seated. They’ll all tell you that I never pay attention or listen. To anyone!” He insists, and you laugh again because he’s being sincere.

His gaze is slight shock as he looks at you, then it softens, and he chuckles with you.

“Why are you laughing?” You ask him.

“I don’t know.” He chuckles again. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, I suppose.”

This sobers you and your laugh dies off.

“Can I ask a favor?” You look at him, trying to read him like you’ve never tried to do so to anyone before.

“Of course.” He nods.

“I know you don’t love me. And I know that the likelihood of you loving me at any point in our marriage is nonexistent, but I really want to try and make this marriage work. I want it to be as real as possible.

“Which means I want you to be honest with me about everything. I don’t want any secrets. I don’t want to think you’re talking to or meeting Jane because you’re acting suspicious. If you have to see her,” And he seems to understand that you mean, if he feels like he needs to for his own sake, because he loves her. “I want to know that’s what you’re doing. Please, don’t make a fool of me, Thor.”

Thor considers you for a moment, absorbing your words as you wait for his response.

Instead of giving you what you want, he gives you a long head-to-toe. “I was right to choose this gown.”

He chose it?

“You look exquisite. Just as a princess should.” He admires. “Come, let’s go introduce you to my friends.”

As he pulls you towards the dining hall, your heart begins to pound again as nervous energy courses through your veins setting your limbs to white noise again. Tingly.

“They’re all very eager to meet the woman who will be Queen of Asgard.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” You worry.

Thor chuckles.

“I’m right there with you.”

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #arranged marriage au #royal au #marvel fanfiction #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fanfiction #king!thor x reader fic #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #thor x you #king!thor x you #marvel au #a wife for thor #a wife for thor pt02 #thor odinson x reader

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writersrealmbts · 3 years

Text

Diamond Tears and Little Wings: Part 5

Description: You’re a fairy, taken in by BTS. You need lots of love and care, otherwise your light will fade and you turn to stone. Between the seven of them, you should never feel unloved. Right?

Warnings: N/A

Posted: 02/11/2021

Tags: bts x reader, ot7

Angst/Fluff/Angst: 3,846 words

A/N: Okay, I told you guys that I would be alternating between DTLW and Clearwater Springs, so here’s the proof. Anyway, two more parts after this!

Your fourth home in five years is what they told you this was. But you couldn’t remember any but this one.

So your heart was aching, and you always wanted to cry, but you never dared to do so. Something, someone’s, words, telling you that crying in front of strangers was dangerous kept echoing in your head. So you blinked away any tears that came, hugged your stuffed animal, and studied the area you would lived in.

It was a little cold, so you hugged your coat tighter to you. You’d been told by the other fairies that your coat was special, because it appeared to be designed exactly for your wings, which was rare. But none of them seemed to have any idea why you would have such a special coat, excepting the fact that maybe in the country you came from it was more normalized to have custom wing-slits.

It was completely normal to come away from a home with a stuffed animal, and clothing and jewelry that could shrink down. People liked dressing up fairies.

You played with your bracelet as you examined the cement floor, and the plain white walls, and the windows that weren’t quiet fully insulated but were full east and full west, respectively, and provided quite a bit of natural lighting. You had your own bathroom and kitchen area, and the laundry room was in the basement. The bed was a bit creaky, but the mattress seemed decent. You had a cute lamp on the side table, and they had a few books for you on a bookshelf that had the bottom shelf broken beside the side table.

There was shoebox bedroom on one of the shelves as well, very simple, with just a bed in it, but it was decorated carefully—though perhaps by their daughter. There was felt covering the floor and back wall, which would provide a little insulation for you. The outside was colored on, but you didn’t have a problem with that.

There was an old rug rolled off to one side that they said you could use, and a bar with some hangers already hanging on it and plastic drawers they said you could used for your clothing.

You looked at your suitcase, which was resting on the bed, then set your dog on top of it while you got the rug, unrolling it and placing it near your bed.

Your job there was to do their laundry and take care of the cat that their daughter wouldn’t let them get rid of, and to entertain their daughter now and then, and when you weren’t delivering the clean laundry or entertaining their daughter you were to stay in the basement bedroom. Simple enough.

The cat was a sweetheart and the laundry was quite simple with only three people to wash for. Laundry was tossed down the shoot daily and every Monday and Thursday you were to deliver their clean laundry before they awoke.

They weren’t cruel, or strict, just very structured and busy.

She was very kind and brought you groceries, even getting you exactly what you requested. You just had to leave a list with her laundry on Mondays, because Mondays were grocery days. She even spontaneously bought you a cake, and when you told her that the basement was a little cold for you, she found a nice heater for you that greatly improved things, and found some more blankets around the house for you. They were generally gone over the weekends, visiting a different set of grandparents each weekend, which left you and Cupcake, the cat, alone in the house to do as you pleased.

Those were the days you ventured down to the fairy market, which was a safe space for fairies and since you did get an allowance for doing the laundry, you could sometimes buy some special treats or things that you needed.

You weren’t a fan of the husband, which was fine, because he only seemed to come downstairs if he needed to check the water-heater (they were having issues with it and he was too stubborn to call whoever it was that professionally dealt with those things), or to ask you to do an emergency clean on a shirt or tie or slacks. It wasn’t that he was mean, or sleazy, or that he gave you bad vibes, he was just very grumpy and brisk. Cold.

And he hated the cat.

Plus you had the distinct feeling that if he found out about your diamond tears it would be a very bad thing. He was a greedy man, raising a greedy daughter.

But you had a CD player now, and you could find CD’s now and then at the fairy market, and the wife said you could use any CD’s you found in the basement.

Which was how you found your current favorite CD. You weren’t certain who the artists were because the disc hadn’t been in it’s proper case, but their songs were so nice. And you loved the one song.

So some days, when you had nothing to do but give the cat all the love it wanted, you just listened to that CD on repeat, singing words as though you’d known them before.

You did different crafts, and solved some of the abandoned puzzles from the storage room.

You improved your shoe-box, replacing the bed (it was a sponge, hard and weird to lay on) with a carefully arranged nest of fabrics and stuffing. Sometimes you stuck your stuffed dog into the shoebox and snuggled into that. The smells on it so familiar and foreign that it made you cry.

Which meant you had to find a place to hide your tears. Normally you just saved them and exchanged them at the fairy market—where the currency exchange fairy, Heidrun, just discretely nodded and added their value to your shopping card balance.

But one day she stopped you before you could leave, holding your hands. “You don’t look well, dear.”

“Fourth home,” You told her simply, shrugging. “It’s more of a job than a home. But I’m not…I’m not suffering. She always makes sure I have what I need and allows me a lot of freedom. I have the whole basement to myself, and I’m allowed in the side-yard at all times. She even encourages me to come here. And I have music to listen to. Actually, I found a CD I really like, but I don’t know what band they are because it doesn’t say on the disc.”

“Try Magnus, he knows everything going on in the music scene,” She told you, squeezing your hands. “And trying to hold onto whatever love you’ve got and are getting. It’s not healthy for our kind to go unloved.”

You nodded. “I’ll do that.”

Magnus did help you, granted, you had to sing a couple of the songs for him to find the right group, but once he did, he sent to you over to Frida with a request for BTS albums.

Frida nodded, pulling out several book-like things. “They’re super popular, but they’re also in a ton a magazines right now. They lost their fairy because of some scandal, and now they’re in a slump, but they’re also going on a world tour, so it can’t be that much of a slump. They’re actually coming to our stadium for a concert, which is cool. They’ve started putting up the posters already.”

You looked at the books, confused. “I thought you said they were albums?”

“They are. The CD’s are accompanied by a booklet of photos and the lyrics, photocards, and usually a poster.”

You blinked then picked up the biggest one, concerned and confused. “It’s…huge…and a box?”

She just snorted. “You want that one? It’s one of their more recent ones. Don’t have their newest yet, but I can see if I can get one for you.”

You nodded. “That’d be nice, but sure, I’ll…take this one for now.”

She nodded and swiped your card. “All yours, sweet-cheeks. Now, tell me how you get your hair that shiny.”

You grabbed your hair and shrugged. “I don’t know. I just wash it.”

“Not even fair,” She muttered, then turned to a new customer.

You went home after hitting a few more stalls, getting more craft things and some stuff for the kitty, hugging the album and wondering what awaited you inside.

Cupcake was waiting for you on your bed, sitting up and meowing loudly, stretching out a paw for you to take (which you did because why else teach him that trick) and then purring and arching into your hand.

“I know, I was gone for forever,” You scooped him up after successfully setting everything else down. “I bought some new music for us. You need a better name. A masculine name. You don’t respond to Cupcake anyway—not that I blame you. It’s a rather poor choice of a name for a cat, much less a tom.”

He just purred, climbing up onto your shoulders and riding there while you put away the few food items you had purchased and hopping onto the fridge while you started cooking your dinner.

You hummed as you tried to think of a different name for him, but after a moment you paused, wondering what song it was you were humming and why it was so familiar and yet so distant. So easy, but you couldn’t remember. You couldn’t remember the moment you stopped singing what the words were or how the song went, despite having reached the chorus. You could only remember the last words you sang.

You shook your head and went over, quickly opening the box to where the disc was in the album without seeing any sign of the pictures (Maybe a poster?) and then popping it into the player.

But it was worse than the first one, because you swore you knew each song. You had vague images in your head of people performing the songs. It hurt. It hurt to hear these songs because they were too familiar. Too familiar and yet so completely foreign that it was unfair.

The first one wasn’t too bad, but the second started really getting to you.

By the third song you were in tears.

By the chorus of the fourth song you were full-on sobbing on the bed.

The fifth song clashed so much with the sentiments of the previous two that it just broke you down further, and you had to turn it off before you started screaming at the empty space where the music should have come from.

You grabbed the photos from the album box after you had calmed down enough. Not bothering to try and remove the sticker, you slide the photos out and started flipping through the pages, horrified at the fact that they looked so achingly familiar and yet you had no idea who they were.

You tossed them back in the box and slammed it shut, eyes filled with tears.

But you must not have woken when someone came into the basement, because three days later the man was demanding to know where you got so many diamonds.

And fairies can’t lie.

Five days later you were staring out the window, a place you couldn’t go until you filled the box on your small counter space with diamonds. It wasn’t too large, but it was large enough that you were worried about whether you would ever fill it.

So you turned on the disc again, and cried. Cried until you were sick, and then collapsed into your bed. Exhaustedly petting the cat until you fell asleep, only to repeat it the next day. And the next.

When you finally filled it, you went straight to the market just to get some time away from the basement.

The shopkeepers from your regular stops came rushing up when they saw you, even Heidrun, all asking where you’d been and if you were okay and before you knew it you were sitting at one of the picnic tables with some soup and some tea and a bunch of worried fairies fussing over you.

Frida sat silently across from you, looking concerned but ultimately staring at the table.

Or so you thought, because she suddenly reached across the table and grabbed your bracelet. “Where did you get this?”

You blinked and tried to recoil, but couldn’t. “I don’t remember. I just figured it was from one of my previous homes.

Magnus frowned, looking at it. “It looks a lot like the one that…”

She nodded. “There’s something etched onto them. Fairy craftsmanship. Come over to my shop. Come on.”

You followed her, curious, and not wanting to let something you had a very strong attachment to out of your sight.

First she tried a jeweler’s eye loupe, then she wrinkled her nose and grabbed a flashlight, shining it through the gems and onto the table.

You stared down at it, confused.

“Something tells me your family didn’t give you up willingly,” Magnus said, voice a little tense.

Frida looked at you, as though she couldn’t believe it. “You’re the fairy that was taken away from BTS?”

You just looked back at her. “Um…is that what all of that means?”

“How did you like that album you bought?” She asked, eyes narrowed to slits.

You shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to think about how much you had used it to make yourself cry, because if you did then you knew she was right. And if she was right, then it would be even sadder.

“Weren’t the one that said that they couldn’t have been too sad about losing their fairy to be going on a world tour? Why would I want to be her?”

“No, they talked about it…it’s because they’re trying to find her. Find you. They didn’t say it explicitly because they could get in trouble for that, but they’ve hinted at it and there are tons of reports and pictures of them visiting every fairy sanctuary they could without compromising their performances. It just took a while for it to hit the news for us. Y/n, they’re looking for you. And if this is any proof, I think they love you and you need love. You look like a skeleton with skin.”

Heidrun gently pulled you into her arms. “What changed? You were doing alright and then you were gone and you come back looking like a ghost.”

“They found my tears,” You whispered.

She inhaled sharply, not quite a gasp, and held you tighter. “You can’t stay there.”

“I can’t leave there either. Where would I go? I would just get arrested and brought back to them.”

Frida folded her arms. “Leave it to me. You go back, lay low. Maybe try to appeal to the lady of the house. I’ll have you out of there as soon as I can. In the meantime….”

“I’ve still got a backlog of your diamonds, come get them just in case he asks again.” Your arm was gently pulled toward the currency exchange station.

You took the bag, and the treats most of them packed up for you. If the love of other fairies was enough to sustain you, you never would have been in this mess. But fairies, while kind and caring, didn’t have enough love for other fairies to keep them alive, especially once exposed to the love of a family. Fairies were good, and kind, and helpful, but also emotionally unstable which made it hard to focus enough love into one another without a consistent source of outside love.

It was a miracle your species had survived as long as it had.

Cupcake greeted you, meowing pathetically and hopping into your arms.

You sat down on your bed with him. “Let’s think of a new name for you.”

Eventually you settled on Keyowo, which was close to his current name but meant friend and was just…it was better.

You then set to deep cleaning over the next week, shrinking your things and tucking them into your suitcase to keep them out of sight.

On Tuesday he beat you to tears because you weren’t producing tears fast enough.

The album caught your eye again on the next Friday.

You picked up, tracing the seven on the cover, and then opening it. You pulled out the poster and unfolded it.

They were in white, with feathers floating down and a hole in the floor. They all looked so good.

You touched the one on the far left, wearing the sweater. Slightly cat-like facial features. You felt like you knew what his hands looked like, even though you couldn’t see much of them in the picture. Slightly calloused, bony, but gentle and careful. Caring for everyone.

“Yoongi,” You whispered, choking up. Tearing up.

Your fingers traced over each of them, names a whisper in your mind. A whisper that turned into shouts, memories flooding your mind of each and every one of them. Your mind screaming for them because your throat was too tight to even whisper.

They were your boys.

They had to let you go.

You weren’t supposed to remember them.

They weren’t supposed to try and find you.

The next day you shoved everything into your bag, tucked the cat into your coat, left a note for the missus and headed straight back to the fairy market.

Frida looked surprised when she saw you. “Whoa, what happened? Is this the kitty your were telling me about?”

“They’re gone for the weekend, that means even if I stay nearby they’ll think I’ve had two days to run out on them. I need you to help me get me back to my family.” You teared up. “I need to find them.”

Frida nodded, glancing around and closing her shop. “Come on. You can stay with me.”

Frida’s family consisted of a pair of siblings.

The sister, Alena, was a fairy rights activist in her spare time, which is why Frida had so much freedom, and a huge music fan. She had a whole wall of CD’s and albums and posters. Stacks of magazines featuring musicians.

The brother, Agnar, was quiet, “just an accountant”, and very kind. And very affectionate toward Frida.

Frida was equally affectionate toward him, bringing a fake gag from Alena.

They helped you find an outfit that hid your fairy-ness, and he got you tickets to the concert, all of you hoping that it would get you close enough for them to see you and recognize that you were there. Also, it would help you health-wise to see them in person and the rush from the concert would be overwhelming, but also might revitalize you.

Then Alena forced you to sit in the bathroom with her while she applied a cloth to your face with epsom salts to try and reduce the bruising and swelling on your face. She told you about the fairy abuse responders, and how she would call them in the morning and tell them about your family.

Agnar totally stole your cat.

Frida let you sleep in her fairy-home (because it definitely wasn’t a dollhouse and it was awesome, of course).

Four days later, you were at the concert venue with Alena, taking a seat and soaking in the atmosphere. People were talking all around and some people were chanting the boys’ names. Another group was starting to sing the songs.

You listened nervously, wondering whether it was true or not that they were looking for you. What if they were just making a fuss to get back at the company a bit? What if the media was making things up? It wouldn’t be the first time a story was fabricated for magazines.

Then the concert started and you and Alena were cheering for your boys, but you wondered why you ever thought they’d be able to see you in this mess.

It wasn’t until the second half of the concert that you had hope.

The boys were in more casual outfits, having more fun.

And they were all wearing the jewelry that Namjoon had made from your diamonds.

Jimin was the one who saw you first, though he looked right over you and then seemed to try and pinpoint you again, but was unable to in the crowd. He stood there with a smile plastered on his face, acting as though he was studying each Army’s face when you knew he was searching for you.

So you stood still in the writhing mass that of the crowd, and studied him.

He had lost weight, and if it hadn’t been for the makeup, you bet he’d look fairly wrung-out.

All of them looked like they’d been sick enough to lose weight.

Taehyung came over and practically dragged him away (making it look playful).

But Jimin said something to Jin and Jungkook.

Jungkook was over there as casually as he could, totally looking at the camera and doing ‘fanservice’. But he obviously didn’t spot you.

Jin didn’t either.

But Yoongi did during the very last song and he stopped, staring, then he was crouched, hand over his mouth, just staring in your direction.

You waved, wondering if he actually was staring at you.

He smiled, but it also looked like he wanted to cry. He waved as well, then cautiously moved off, still keeping an eye on you.

You bit your lip, smiling.

Alena squealed and grabbed onto you, and the two of you did your best to fit in with the rest of the crowd.

Both of you lingered as long as you could afterward, her extremely hyped from the whole concert and talking a mile a minute, while you were feeling…exhausted? All of the emotions around you and finally seeing your boys again….

But you had no idea how you were going to get to them, or how they were going to get to you.

Until you saw Sejin, scanning the crowd.

The likelihood of him being on the side of the boys was pretty good.

You tugged on Alena’s arm, pulling her to a stop.

Sejin locked onto you and started moving, coming your way, waiting until the straggling fans that had been around you were gone before telling security to let you through.

You dipped your head to the security guards, then bowed slightly to Sejin. “Hello.”

Sejin smiled. “Hello, y/n.”

You bit your lip. “I remembered.”

He nodded. “I figured. We all figured. They’re waiting. They’re all waiting.”

You were practically vibrating.

“Come on, let’s get you back to them. Your friend can come but she needs to wait in the hallway for…security purposes.”

You nodded and relayed the information to Alena, then both of you were following back to the waiting room.

Sejin stopped by the waiting room. “Go on in.”

You nodded, putting your hand on the doorknob and then turning it and going in.

–

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Masterlist - ot7 Masterpost

Tagging: @alex–awesome–22, @bryvada, @missmoxxiesworld @subzerobts @forvever-ddaeng @vividwoosan @mischiefmakerliesmith5 @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @minmeowmeowcuddles @kpopfictrash @castlewolfsbane @scatkpoptrash @knjhe @i-dont-even-know-fck @soulphoenix1618 @kerikaaria @sea-nevermind-enthusiast @reinaxans

If you would like to be tagged: DTLW Taglist (please make sure you can be tagged, I’m no longer hunting people down)

#fairy au #bts fic #bts ot7 #bts ot7 x reader #ot7 #ot7 x reader #fairy!reader #namjoon #jin #seokjin #yoongi #suga #hoseok #jhope #jimin #taehyung #v #jungkook

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wayward-mikaelson · 3 years

Text

I Still Want You, I Still Need You--VII. A Chance (NSFW)

Word Count: 4510

About: A few years have passed and you have adjusted to motherhood. Steve and Tony pay you a visit. You and Steve talk about a moment you guys had.

Characters: Okoye, Olivia (OC), Steve, Tony, Pepper (Mentioned), M’Baku (Mentioned), Bucky (Implied Return)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings/Tragger Warnings: Language, Sexual Content (Unprotected-Wrap it before you tap it, Oral-F Receiving)

A/N: This part is bit long cause it’s full of details. Also who knew that about Steve?!

*This contains content meant for the 18 and up crowd. Read at your own discretion

**Please do not copy and paste my work anywhere. Reblogs and sharing the link is just fine.

***This work is posted on other sites

****Go follow my other accounts. Links can be found in the pinned post on my profile.

*****Currently NOT taking requests

******Feedback is welcomed!!

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Marvel Tags: OPEN

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VI. Hello, Sweet

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Four years came and went.

You fell naturally into motherhood. Olivia was a good baby. She slept well during the night unless she had been teething up a storm. Those days you drank all the coffee you could. There were days you had a hard time but Okoye was there to help out and so did Steve whenever he came by. Steve and you grew closer as he helped you with Olivia. You called him super Uncle. The love and adoration that was always on Steve’s face, made you feel like you can almost move on. But the idea always scared you.

Olivia was a smart kid. She was a Stark to a T. She got her hands on just about anything and would make things. And for an almost four year old, it was extremely impressive. Impressive that Tony would sent little building kits for her and she would get them done in a few days with your help. She had the attitude of a Stark but she had the heart of a Barnes. Just like Steve predicted.

Your daughter’s facial expressions were one hundred percent Bucky’s. The way smiles played on the corner of her little lips down to the way she expressed herself with her eyes. Her long hair remained dark as well as her blue eyes. She was a miniature version of Bucky. Steve even said that each time he came back to visit, Olivia looked more and more like him.

Olivia was the calm to the the storm you had been through.

She kept you from falling apart.

She kept you whole.

But yet, you never moved on from losing Bucky.

You walked into the lab to find Olivia in the same place you had left her. She obsessed over the erector set Tony sent her. Tony loved to spoil his niece, just like you loved to spoil yours. A few months after Tony and Peppers wedding, Pepper had become pregnant and shortly after Olivia was born, so was Morgan. Whenever you went to visit them, which was the only time you left Wakanda, the two girls were inseparable. It killed you and Tony to see them have to part ways.

“What are you building this time, bug?” you asked as you sat next to her. Her dark hair hung around her face. She had always refused to where hair bands unless it was to bed.

“A rower coatter,” Olivia’s face popped through the hair, a huge smile on her face. The smile took your breath away. “Can you picture it to Unca Twony?” She loved it when you sent her completed works to Tony. And Tony loved it too.

“Sure thing,” you leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. “How about this weekend we go see them? I’m sure Morgan and you can find something in Uncle Tony’s workshop.” Olivia’s eyes lit up when you said Morgan and workshop. When the two of you would visit, Tony and you would find the girls in Tony’s workshop. You had to convince him to make a small space for the girls since they were always found there.

You sat down at your work table and began to fumble with the scrap metal in front of you. You made it your mission to get cleaner and better filtered water to the Border Tribe after discovering their wells were either running dry or had harmful bacteria in them. It took you a week and a lot of using that Stark charm to get M’Baku to agree to your aqueduct like creation.

“All I need to do is come up with good design,” you whispered to yourself.

After an hour of fumbling and putting pieces together. You finally came up with the perfect example. Now, all you need to do is email Tony what you need.

After hitting send on your email, you looked up to see Okoye walk into the lab. Over the last few years, the two of you have grown closer and could count on each other. You trusted her with yours and Olivia’s life.

“Okie,” Olivia shouted and ran to the woman. Okoye knelt down and let Olivia jump into her arms. Okoye had grown so fond of Olivia that she would take her out with the other members of the guard to show her what they were doing. Olivia loved it.

“How are you little Tiger?” Okoye kept the little nickname for Olivia from when she was in the womb. She has proven to be just that too.

“Good,” then off Olivia went back to her little work table. A true Stark never fully leaving their work undone.

“I see you got your aqueduct done,” Okoye came over to you. “When will we be able to get this done?”

“As soon as Tony can send me what I need, we will be able to get it up and running.” You pushed back from the table. “How’s the guard doing? Were they able to get the barrels of water out there?”

Since finding out about the water situation, you and Okoye decided it would be best to send water until you figured out what you needed to do. So Tony sent twelve barrels to fill with water, even though you asked for six. Tony somehow knew you would need more. Once a week Okoye and the guard would swap out six for six new ones. It was a good process.

“They did,” Okoye crossed her arms and watched Olivia. “This water should last more than a week. They had two barrels still full.”

“Good, that gives us enough time to get this thing built and get them water,” You stood up and made your way around the table.

“I haven’t seen Steve around these last few weeks,” Okoye gave you a side eye and smirk.

“I may have made our friendship awkward,” you said walking to get water. You slightly cringe at the last conversation the two of you had about a month ago. Since then Steve only called or texted you. Making the conversations brief.

“How could you make it awkward? It’s not like you two slept together…”Okoye’s chuckle died as she saw your face. “You slept with him, didn’t you?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line. Did you regret it? Nope, it was the first time in years you could let yourself just go like that. Was it the right time for something like that? Nope, but you thought it was and the next morning you had to tell Steve that.

“I did and it was great,” you closed your eyes as you remembered that night. “Then when morning came, some switch flipped and I just couldn’t do it. I wasn’t ready.” Your voice began to shake as you remembered the exact moment you knew you weren’t ready to move on.

Okoye reached out and touched your shoulder. “It’s okay. Someday you will. Tiger will need a father figure to look up to. Steve Rogers is that kind of man.”

Okoye was right. Steve was the right kind of man and you knew deep down you should maybe at least give him a chance. “I’ll call him this evening when I’m settled down for the night.” Then you replayed that night in your head.

The tension.

The kiss.

The feeling of his skin on yours.

The warmth of his breath on your bare skin.

***

You sat on the couch mindlessly flipping through a magazine, while you sipped on your beer. You rarely drank so you always wanted to keep it light. Steve was putting Olivia to bed and seemingly, it sounded like it was going well. She normally tries every kind of tactic to stay up later. When a door opened, you looked up to see Steve walking your way.

“Asleep already?” you asked setting the magazine on the coffee table. “You didn’t drug her did you?”

Steve laughed and sat on the couch next to you. He cracked open a beer and took a long drink. “Nope, she just wanted four stories and by the time I got through the third one, she was out.”

You leaned over and rested your head on Steve’s shoulder. You swore you felt his muscles tense for split second. “You are a life saver!”

Steve gave a light chuckle. “Tell me whats new? How’s Tony and them doing?”

“Still won’t talk to you huh?” you leaned away. You saw the hardness in those blue eyes. Tony still held some feelings towards Steve. You tried a few times to get Tony to just move on and forgive him for whatever it was. But Tony was a Stark.

“Nope,” Steve emphasized the P in nope.

“Well, they're doing good, Liv and I are going to see them next weekend,” you poked your finger into Steve’s arm. “You can come, you know? He’s asks about you too.”

Steve leaned forward and folded his hands. “I can’t,” he said not making eye contact. “I have that group i’ve been leading.”

You stood up with a huff and walked to the small kitchen. “You and your fucking excuses Steve Rogers. You and Tony are like freaking teenage girls who had a stupid fight and wont talk to each other.” You turned to see that Steve had gotten up and had his hands on his hips. “I’m just saying,” you turned to wash the few dishes in the sink. “You guys were the best of friends. You guys hung out almost all the time.”

You didn’t hear Steve come up beside you. You jumped a little but realized he was helping by drying the dishes. “That’s not why I hung out with him. People just assumed that, I just wanted to be closer to you and for the fucking life of me, I couldn’t man up and ask you out.” You rarely ever heard Steve swear. It surprised you each time.

But that wasn’t what made you drop the plate. You looked towards Olivia room and hoped that she didn’t wake up. You were in the clear.

“For years,” Steve continued as he turned to you. You just stood there and stared at the plate in the sink. The water spilling from the faucet, splashing water droplets around the sink. “I watched you with guy after guy. Almost dying in New York and then almost dying in Sokovia. I wouldn’t know what I would have done if you had.” Steve turned you with his hands. You kept your eyes on the ground. “The that day when Bucky went back on ice, that smile you two exchanged, I knew it was too late. I couldn’t be mad. The two you were perfect for each other.”

“Steve…” you stared to say but he shushed you.

“Then you lost Bucky and that literally almost killed.” Steve took his free hand and lifted your face to meet his eyes. They were soft and you saw just about every emotion he was felling. “Seeing you on that building ledge, I didn’t just pull you back for Bucky’s sake. I pulled you back for mine.”

Whatever happened next, it was beyond you. You didn’t know how it happened, but you found yourself closing the gap between you and Steve and pressing your lips firmly to his. His lips were soft and gentle. It was like something took possession of you body. Steve placed both hands on the side of your face and pulled away.

“You’re not kissing me because I told you how felt?” Steve asked resting his forehead on yours.

“I don’t know.” you answered honestly. Your eyes were closed and you were breathing hard. You really weren’t certain why you kissed Steve. He was never more than just a friend. But these last few years he’s been there for you and Olivia. “Just roll with it.”

And Steve did.

Steve pressed his lips back to yours and deepened it. One of his hands slowly makes its way to the back your neck, while the other goes down to you waist. It grips firmly as he backs you into the living room.Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. Steve’s tongue slid across your bottom one, causing you to groan.

“Not here,” you slightly pulled away. “My room.”

Steve’s hand left your neck and shot down your waist. Without any effort, he picked up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he wrapped his strong arms around you. Steve started towards your room. You buried your face into his neck and felt his body tense up and him suck in a breath.

Once in the room and the door closed, Steve had your back pressed to the door. His breath was by your ear. Sending chills down your back and making you ache for him between your legs. “I am going to take my time with you,” he whispered in your ear, sending yet another chill down your back.

“Show you me what you got, Captain,” you rolled your hips into his already hard erection. Even thorough your cotton pajama shorts, you could feel his cock straining against his jeans as it twitched.

Steve’s eyes grew dark as he spun the two of you around and dropped you on the bed. He bent down and pulled your bottoms and underwear. He saw how wet you were without even having to look at your underwear.

“Someone’s excited,” he teased as he tossed the clothes to the side.

You pushed up on your elbows and gave him a smirk. “I can say the same about you.”

Steve smirked and rose an eyebrow before pulling you legs and placing them over his shoulder. “Let’s see if you taste better than you look.” Without another word, you watched as Steve dove in. His lips meeting your clit and his tongue shooting right inside you.

With a gasp, you shoot a hand to push his face further. The way he licked, sucked, and flicked his tongue around, had you shaking and breathing hard. You couldn’t stop whimpering his name as you felt yourself quickly getting towards that edged.

“Steve,” you whimpered. Your legs pulled him closer and you could feel him hum against your clit as his tongue fucked you. The vibration of his hum was what sent you over the edge. You cried out and both your hands and legs pushed Steve further, if that were possible, into you. Your body shook as your orgasm rocked through your body. And Steve still ate at you until your back fell onto the bed.

You lifted your head up to see Steve stand up and discard his clothes. When his cock sprung free, it had you drooling and you wanted it all inside of you. Steve made his way between your legs and looked at your shirt, with his bare hands, he ripped the fabric off your body throwing it behind him. Looking into his eyes, you could see the hunger and lust. He dipped down and kissed you, tasting your release on his lips. He gripped your hands in his and placed them above your head.

“I want to hear you say it again,” Steve mumbled against your lips. You felt himself line up with your entrance.

You know what he meant. “Fuck me, Captain.”

With that, Steve slipped inside you effortlessly. A soft moan escaped your lips letting Steve’s tongue shoot into your mouth. Once he was fully inside you, he waited until you were adjusted before he started to move in and out of you slow. You slowly lifted your hips but Steve used a hand to pin them back.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart,” he hummed as he peppered kisses to your jawline.

“Well,” you wrapped your legs around his waist. “If you don’t do anything about that slow movement, I will have no choice but to take control.”

Steve pulled out all the way and then slammed right back into you. You cried and moaned as he grunted as the pleasurable action was repeated. His cock slid against your wall in the most beautiful way. You arched your back into his chest each time his cock hit your cervix. His pelvic bone rubbed your clit perfectly, making you moaning, whimpering mess under him. The pressure on you hands and hip being pinned, added to the mess you already were in.

Begging him not to stop.

Pleading him to keep going.

Calling him things, you never thought you would call him before.

It all was bringing you closer to the edge.

Soon, Steve’s thrusting slowed but they were still hard and deep. His grunt were deeper, inside his chest. He let go of your hands and hip and wrapped his arms around you. You did the same. You knew you were at the edge and you knew that Steve was close too. You pushed his face up and see could see the love he had in that moment in his eyes. It was all for you.

“Cum for me,” you whispered.

With one hard thrust, Steve spilled right into you and triggered your orgasm. Your bodies shook together and your breaths were still uneven as the both of you came down. Steve pushed himself up and cupped your face with hand. He leaned down and kissed you slowly. There was no hunger behind it. Just love and passion. Then he rolled over and pulled you into his arms before the two of you fell asleep.

In that moment, everything felt right.

Morning came when Steve gently woke you up. He sat on the side of the bed and brushed back some hair. “Hey,” his voice was gentle. “Breakfast is ready and Liv wanted to show you the pancake we made you.”

You sat up and stretched. “What time is it?”

“Eight, you deserved a morning to sleep in. Especially after last night.” Steve leaned in and brushed his lips against yours. “I’ll let you get ready.”

Once you were alone, you slid out of bed and went to the closet. When you turned the light on, your eyes landed on a box that was labeled BUCKY.

***

You were putting things away as you thought about that morning. You had just told Olivia to pick up her space for the day when you turned around and froze. There stood Steve and Tony. Their faces told you that they meant business.

Olivia squealed when she saw the two men and ran towards them. Steve hugged her while he made eye contact with you. Then Olivia jumped into Tony’s arms. He picked her up and he had the biggest smile on his face. She pointed towards her project and mumbled something. Tony’s face just lit up.

“I guess while I’m here, we can get you something else,” He told her as she wiggled out of his arms. “Sorry, dear,” he said as he and Steve approached. “We would have called but what we have to tell you has to be said in person.”

You gulped. Tony’s tone had you wondering what he needed to say. Steve just stood to the side and had his hands on his hips. His eyebrows furrowed. Taking a deep breath you turned to a random guard that was placed there to watch over you guys. “Can you take her to Okoye?”

The woman took Olivia’s hand and walked out with her. You turned to the two men but it was Steve you addressed. “What’s going on?”

“You may want to sit down for this,” Steve said.

You looked to Tony and he nodded. “Okay,” you sat in your chair. “What is it?”

“We may have found a way to bring everyone back.”

You froze. Coolness filled your body and in the wake of it washing over you, goosebumps followed. Your breathing got stuck in your throat as and you grabbed your water and chugged the rest of it. Your ears were ringing and couldn’t hear what was being said by Steve or Tony.

“Let her breath, Rogers,” Tony’s hand was instantly on your back. “Gosh! We said we would ease her into this. Not dump it on her all at once.”

“How?” you choked out.

“Time travel,” Tony gently said as he sat on your table. “Do you remember Scott Lang? Well he helped me make it possible.”

Then you laughed. You laughed so hard that nearly fell out of your chair. “Time travel?” you asked trying to catch your breath. “You guys are going to go back into time and stop Thanos? What would that mean for us? I wouldn’t get Bucky back. 2018 me would still have Bucky and raise a child with him.”

Tony shushed you with his finger on your mouth. “Slow down, little sister. We are going back to get the stones and bring them to our time. Hoping it’ll work.”

You leaned back in your chair and folded your arms across your chest. You stared at Steve, who couldn’t take his eyes off you. “Do you think this will work?” You asked them both.

“We have to try, right?” Steve responded. “We owe it to those we lost. If not, then we just go on with life.”

You took a deep breath and just stared into space. You thought deeply about what was being said. You could get your husband back. Olivia could have her father. But what happens if this doesn’t work? Then you’re heartbroken all over again. You didn’t have the stomach to have such hope that they were serving to you on a silver plater. But yet, here you were taking it. Because that’s that just who you were.

“Okay,” you stood up. “Then I’m coming with you guys.”

“Nope, thats a huge ass pile of nope,” Tony said standing up too. “You missy, are staying here.”

“I agree,” Steve said.

“You have Olivia to care for,” Tony started to say.

“And you have Morgan,” you pointed out.

“She has two parents,” Tony said taking your shoulders in his hands. “Olivia only has one. For now. And if this were to go sideways and something happens to me, I need you there for Pepper.”

You took another deep breath. Tony was right. “Okay.”

“Perfect,” Tony said letting you go. “Now, I am going to go look for my darling niece and buy her something extravagant.” Tony walked out of the lab leaving you and Steve looking at each other.

The tension in the air was almost suffocating. You knew Steve didn’t want to look at you, he kept darting his eyes away from your each time you looked towards him. It wasn’t that the morning after sleeping with him was bad. There wasn’t even an argument. You just simply told him as you held one of Bucky’s shirts with a few tears in eyes that you couldn’t. That you needed some time.

Well, if this time travel thing works, then there goes the time you needed.

“You know,” you walked over to Steve. “I’m getting the feeling that you are partly on board with this.”

Steve looked down at the ground and then back at you. “What makes you say that?”

You made a face at him. “One, I’ve known you for over a decade. Two, you’re looking at me like you want to throw me on something and have your way with me. But you can’t because you’re best friend, also my husband could be coming back.”

Steve cracked a smile that disappeared just as fast. “It’s just horrible timing on my end. I’m fully on board with this.”

“Good,” you started to leave and turned back to Steve. “If this doesn’t work out, I’ll give us a shot. See where us goes.”

“And if Bucky comes back and he finds out about that night?”

“Then I tell him the truth,” you shrugged your shoulders. “In fact, I will just tell him. He’s been gone for five years. He would have expected me to move on. Now, let’s find my brother before he buys Liv something that’s too big to fit in my apartment.”

***

A few days have went by. Tony had sent the stuff you needed to get water to the Border Tribe. You and some volunteers set to work on getting it all started. It was hard long work that you decided to stay in your old house with Olivia. It made it easier to wake up and get to work and let Olivia play with the other children.

On the fourth day, you were ready to break ground when you noticed a change in the air. The same kind of change five years ago. You shook your head and passed it of as just thinking too much into it. You were too tired, you could barely sleep in that house still. You stayed up most nights as your mind raced with memories. And emotions.

“Let’s take a few hours,” you said to the others as you got up. You could barely concentrate. Today was the day that you brother and friends went on that time travel mission. You couldn’t help but worry about it going wrong. You were waiting for word about if it worked or not.

Olivia ran up to you and jumped into your arms. She nuzzled her face into your neck and you let out a soft sigh. She always knew when you needed hugs the most. She pulled back and took your face in her tiny, little hands. Her clear blue eyes stared deep into yours. She didn’t have to say anything to tell you that everything will be fine no matter what happened.

“I wuv you, Mommy,” she said.

“I love you, too, Tiger,” you gave her little butterfly kisses and set her down. “Can you take her back to the lab? I’m gong to take a few minutes and catch up later.”

“Yes, Missus Barnes,” the guard said taking your daughters hand in theirs.

When you alone you started to stare at the supplies in front of you. You wondered if this was actually enough. You wanted this to work so bad, you almost didn’t hear the snap of a twig behind you. You snapped your head up to listen for it again. Taking a deep breath you shook you head and went back to shuffling through the metal before you.

A twig snapped again.

You picked up a thin, but long piece of metal. “Whoever you are, you may want to think twice about who you sneak up on.”

You spun around, swinging the metal as you went. Something, well more like someone stopped your swing. You froze when you realized who had stopped your swing. A chill ran through your body. You know the color drained from your face. Those blue eyes were just as surprised as you were. They searched yours for some kind of answer.

Your hands fell and so did the metal. You took a step back only to lose your footing. He stepped forwards and grabbed your arms pulling you back towards him.

“Careful there, Doll.”

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onesweetdreampodcast · 3 years

Photo

For fun, a micro episode! A reprise of RAM’s critical reception over time. Positive reviews referenced in the episode: Pitchfork “..Paul McCartney's Ram is a domestic-bliss album, one of the weirdest, earthiest, and most honest ever made. What 2012's ears can find is a rock icon inventing an approach to pop music that would eventually become someone else's indie pop.”

ALL MUSIC

“This made Ram an object of scorn and derision upon its release —and for years afterward in fact — but in retrospect it looks like nothing so much as the first indie pop album. Ram has a fuller production yet retained that ramshackle feel, sounding as if it were recorded in a shack out back, not far from the farm where the cover photo of Paulholding the ram by the horns was taken. It's filled with songs that feel tossed off, filled with songs that are cheerfully, incessantly melodic; it turns the monumental symphonic sweep of Abbey Road into a cheeky slice of whimsy on the two-part suite "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey.".All three of these are songs filled with good humor, and their foundation in old-time rock & roll makes it easy to overlook how inventive these productions are, ... These songs may not be self-styled major statements, but they are endearing and enduring, as is RAM itself, which seems like a more unique, exquisite pleasure with each passing year.”

LOUDER THAN WAR

“Cool is the most overrated component of rock roll. It blinds the fools and sends the insecure up grubby back alleys of music taste. ...Maybe it’s a measure of the times but what people ragged on about Paul at the time was the good bloke/family man/simple things in life/not very rock n roll personae that are now seen as assets and that brings us to Ram.At the time the album was buried by the media but now sounds forward thinking and full of that buoyant pop imagination that the supremely talented Macca seems to effortlessly ooze. With the luxury of history the album now sounds like a decades too early precursor to lo fi indie with all the post late sixties bombast stripped away.Of course this simplicity is deceptive. The precociously brilliant McCartney is playing many instruments and he’s great at anything he picks up, dealing out guitar licks, bass runs or pastoral acoustics with an ease for his perfect pop voice to fly over with those cascading and exquisite melodies.”

SUPER DELUXE EDITION

“Ram has McCartney’s DNA all over it. It is endlessly melodic … with a maze of musical ideas; vocal harmonies,...and, perhaps uncharacteristically, there is a steeliness of purpose evident.Ram works so well for many reasons. McCartney’s voice is at, or near, its peak – everything sounds completely effortless, including the performance on the throat-shredding ‘Monkberry Moon Delight’, and the whole thing just feels so real. Paul wasn’t struggling for things to write about, whether it be the seemingly constant backbiting with Lennon or his new-found love of family life and spending time with his new wife.” FAR OUT MAGAZINE

‘...You can trace everything from Britpop to pure jangle indie back to this record. What started as a piece of pure pop innovation would provide a sure footing for a host of other groups to spring from … there is no denying that Paul McCartney’s Ram is a seminal moment in musical history.’

50Thirdand3rd

“Paul McCartney has rarely sounded more exuberant than he does on Ram. With Linda’s emotional support, he found his way through the darkness occasioned by the collapse of The Beatles and shed all traces of depression and disorientation that marked his first solo effort. On Ram, he sounds positively thrilled to embark on a new, independent musical adventure, as is evident in the unbridled energy he displays throughout the record and the blessed return of his sense of humor. His melodic gifts remain intact, he sings as well as he ever did and he’s still one hell of a bass player.”

THE QUIETUS

It’s a record by a man and woman unburdened, enjoying the happiest days of their lives. It’s full of hope and honesty and goofing around. Unlike so much music from the era, it wasn’t trying to shift units or promote itself as ‘real’ music. In fact Paul McCartney probably doesn’t give a toss if you like it or not.”

SPECTRUM CULTURE

“...it’s clearer than ever that this is one of the great magical experiences in rock … The key to Ram’s power is the two equal and not-necessarily-distinct modes it toggles between. Domestic life between the album’s credited artists is portrayed with earthy whimsy; the instruments crack and splinter, content that the center will hold. Meanwhile, the material dealing with the meaning of the most coveted Beatle’s decision to settle down with the woman of his dreams is painted in the same grand, sweeping strokes as Sgt. Pepper, Magical Mystery Tour, and the Abbey Road medley: symphonic pop that pines for transcendence.”

RAM ALBUM CLUB:

“I listened properly the next morning, I sat in front of it and played it loud. My god, what a fool I’ve been, what a joy this record is. There’s hardly any of the 12 bar I was expecting and there isn’t a twee moment to be found. I adore the first bars of Too Many People, his beautiful tramp voice over those fab four chords into Pet Sounds snare hits. Honey to my bee. Lyrically he sounds like he’s kicking some demons around, eating apples, settling scores and having a ball doing it. Ram sounds like it was recorded at 9.12am amidst a sea of sunflowers under a hazy sun. It’s high as monkeys, full of itself and oh my, what a fool I’ve been. Ram On sounds like the whole of the Department of Eagles album In Ear Park (which I love) and Uncle Albert is fine as it is, all of it. I’m not that bothered about Eat At Home. The Back Seat Of My Car is like a track off the Beach Boys album Friends except better, much better. It’s one his best songs and I’ve never heard it. Third time, I take it downstairs. I light candles. I dress smart and bring gifts. I’m in love and o’ what a fool I’ve been. I’m uplifted, uploaded and upended. His singing is great, the musicians are right on the money and the sound is perfect (it is a truth that all records made in the early 1970s sound fantastic).”

#One Sweet Dream Podcast #RAM Extravaganza #Micro Episode #Current RAM reviews

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lifeofkaze · 3 years

Text

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 10

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N:

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: None, wow 😂

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @night-rhea @carewyncromwell

I make my livin' off the evenin' news

Just give me somethin', somethin' I can use

People love it when you lose

They love dirty laundry

~ Don Henley - Dirty Laundry ~

Ethan’s plan to raise Equinox’s standing within the record company was very clear. While their nights were spent performing on stage, Ethan had made sure their days were filled with a tight schedule of PR appointments.

Where they’d had plenty of time to relax, socialise and explore on their previous tours, every day was now jam-packed with meet & greets, photoshoots and interviews. Even when they were off duty, Ethan was constantly reminding them to take pictures and film stories to publish on social media.

“People aren’t following you because they like your music,” he never got tired of saying. “They want to see who’s behind their favourite rockstars. Give them a look at your private life and you’ll be everybody’s darlings in no time once again.”

Some of them were more reluctant to put themselves out there than the others. While Lizzie and Skye didn’t mind the odd goofy backstage clip, Lizzie noticed Merula and especially Orion were increasingly drawing back into themselves.

Lizzie and Orion made a point to avoid talking about band business when they were spending their nights together; not that they were talking much at all. But the concerned crease that she could see more often than not on Orion’s forehead these days wasn’t lost on her either.

The worst part of Ethan’s strategy, however, were without a doubt the countless press appointments. All in the spirit of keeping the enemy close, Lizzie had lost track of how many interviews they had given since their U.K. tour had started. The publications they were working with ranged from reputable magazines and newspapers to the trashiest of tabloids. At least, most of the stories those were coming up with were just too hilarious to be actually believable; Lizzie shuddered to think what dirt they could uncover if they’d ever decide to dig for real.

Like on so many days before, Equinox were scheduled for another interview before one of their rare days off. It was for a feature story with a magazine well respected in the industry, all with an accompanying photo shoot and the whole conundrum. It wouldn’t have sounded so bad, had it not been for the journalist who had been chosen to conduct the interview.

Lizzie had met a number of reporters over the course of her career, but none who ground her nerves as Rita Skeeter did.

Beloved by her readers and dreaded by the subjects of her stories, Rita Skeeter was one of the most sharp-tongued critics British journalism had to offer. She had a singular gift - although some called it a curse - to wiggle even the slightest of juicy information out of her unheeding interview partner. Many a career had taken a dive after an unfortunate encounter with her.

If you wanted utmost attention, Rita Skeeter was the right woman for the job; but you had better get your guard up.

The blonde woman was currently watching Andre preparing them for the interview and the shoot afterwards; usually the magazines brought their own stylists, but Ethan liked to keep as many things under control as he could. Having Andre in charge of their looks guaranteed they would give off just the impression Ethan wanted.

Andre was in the process of applying Lizzie’s make up, the tip of his tongue showing between his teeth while he concentrated. She winced as her eyes started tearing up from the wand of the mascara.

“I don’t get why this much makeup is necessary,” she complained, drawing away from Andre to blink her tears away. “I get it with Merula, she’s singing and in focus, but I’m behind the drums, no one’s paying attention to me. Give her the spotlight and leave me in peace,” she added glumly as she saw Andre approach with a curling wand.

Andre tutted as he opened her ponytail and loosened her hair with practised hands. “Stop arguing, you know it’s useless. And besides,” he added with a wink that showed off his glittery eyeliner, “loads of people are paying attention to you; you’re just not looking.”

“I have to agree with Mr. Egwu,” Rita suddenly said. She had been leaning against one of the dressing tables on the set and watched them being dolled up. Andre usually held their wardrobe in dark colours, black and white, so Rita’s bilious green dress stood out like a flare in comparison. She pursed her bright red lips as she looked Lizzie up and down over the rim of her half-glasses.

“You’re a favourite with my readers, Miss Jameson… Lizzie, I may call you Lizzie, right?”

Without waiting for Lizzie’s answer, she continued. “You have a bright personality and some decent looks; you are the little sunshine of this group and everyone likes themselves a good ‘girl next door in the big wide world’ trope.”

She raised her hands at Lizzie’s sceptical look and laughed; it sounded incredibly put on. “I’m not a fan of putting people into drawers either, but it’s what the people want to see.” She tapped her finger against her temple. “It’s how my readers think.”

Skye snorted in the background; she was already done with her styling and sat on one of the tables, legs dangling in the air. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

Rita giggled. “Of course the rebel of the group would say that, I expected nothing else; after all, there’s true rockstar blood running through your veins, Skye Parkin.”

Not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to herself, Skye fell silent.

When everyone was ready, they moved over to where two comfortable looking sofas and an armchair were set up for them. Lizzie sighed inwardly as she took her place between Skye and Everett. Rita Skeeter was known to make her interview questions up on the spot; Lizzie just hoped they wouldn’t be too off the rails.

Rita leaned back into her armchair facing them and placed a dictating machine onto the small wooden table next to her. It was no secret that the infamous reporter liked to keep her own notes, kept apart from the material belonging to her magazine; she usually kept the dictating device running long after the cameras had turned off.

“So,” she began speaking to an invisible audience with a sickly sweet voice, “I’m honoured to be talking to England’s hottest export when it comes to rock ‘n’ roll - and I mean that in more ways than one.”

She turned her attention towards them. “It’s so good to have you here today, how are you all?”

They all muttered some noncommittal phrases before Rita started with her first question. Like always in the beginning, it was more of a general palaver as both parties were taking the other’s measure.

If the questions weren’t directed at anyone in particular, it was usually Everett answering them. He loved the attention he got from Rita and contrary to the rest of them, he almost seemed to feel comfortable around her. The pictures Lizzie had seen of him and Rita in Skye’s tabloid came to her mind again, and she wondered if that might be the reason for Everett’s talkativeness.

As the interview continued, Rita’s questions were gradually becoming more detailed, focused on several aspects that she deemed sell-worthy. She watched every one of them closely as they answered, and they picked their words carefully.

“One thing I noticed about this last part of your tour is your very increased availability,” Rita said. “I don’t remember seeing you do so much fan service and public appearances before. What’s the reason behind this?”

It was Orion who answered her question. “The most important thing to us is to make sure our fans are having a good time. Without them, we wouldn’t be where we are now; it’s not a lot, but this is our way of thanking them.”

“Is this the reason for your upcoming special show tomorrow? Reserved for the indigent foster care children?”

Her eyes flicked between Merula and Orion. “It’s no secret you two have a history with the system. One orphaned at such a young age, the other the daughter of convicted criminals, bound to be raised in the shadows of her parents’ deeds. Two unlikely siblings, not bound by blood but by trauma - how does it feel to risk a look into your own past?”

“It’s a show like any other,” Merula replied bluntly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She scowled at the blonde reporter. “No need to make a big deal out of this.”

Orion inclined his head in Merula’s direction. “What Merula wants to say is, we make no difference in what good cause we are supporting, as long as we can put a smile on the faces of those who need it, even if only for a little while. We do have our past in the care system, that is common knowledge, but as Merula pointed out already, this is in the past. If you want to continue on your path, it is no good walking with your gaze turned backwards. We live in the here and now, so it’s what’s in front of us that matters.”

The slight twitch around the corners of Rita’s mouth was almost too quick to catch, but Lizzie had seen it nonetheless. Apparently, Orion had given her the exact bridge to her next question she had hoped for.

“If you want to speak about the here and now, I’ll be too happy to fulfill your wish,” she cooed. “Now that we’re speaking on a more personal level anyway, I just have to ask. You guys are living everyone’s wildest dreams, a life all of us mere mortals can only imagine.” Her eyes sparkled behind her glasses. “It’s only us here, you can trust me; what about the juicy stories? Any tales of sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll you want to share with the world?”

Lizzie subconsciously bit the inside of her cheek, hoping Rita hadn’t noticed before she got herself under control again; this woman was a bloodhound when it came to scandals. If she ever found out what was going on between Orion and her, Lizzie might just as well bury herself alive.

Luckily, Orion wasn’t fazed by her question. “The only passion we share is the love for our music,” he smiled noncommittally. “As professional musicians we try to keep our public and private lives separated.”

Rita’s eyes gleamed as she leaned forward. “You try to keep them separated?”

Before Lizzie couldn’t help it, her eyes flickered to Orion again.

“We have been friends for years, of course our lives intervene in places. The friendship between us we show to the world is genuine and not for show.”

“Friendship, huh?” Rita’s nostrils flared as her eyes swept the round. “Come on, we’re all adults here. So many gorgeous young people spending their time together all day, everyday? Don’t tell me you’re all staying up drinking apple juice and playing board games.”

Her attention shifted so suddenly that Lizzie was taken by surprise. “What about you, Lizzie? Any stories to tell?” She looked her up and down critically. “If you ask me, you and Jason would make quite the pair. The golden girl and the bad boy? People live for stories like that.”

Everett sighed wistfully. “Just call me Ev, Rita, everyone does. But yeah, that’s what I’ve been telling her for years now, but so far to no avail. Perhaps she’ll listen to you.”

Lizzie was relieved when he immediately started laughing his words off. “I’m joking of course; Orion is right. The band is our job and our management wants us to keep things professional. There’s other ways to live the rockstar lifestyle,” he finished with a wink.

Rita pursed her lips in a knowing smile. “That I believe in a heartbeat. Fill me in guys, between us, how is it with the ladies? The bad guy with an angel’s voice and the soulful songwriter and his magic hands… you must be spoiled for choice.”

Everett grinned and leaned back against the sofa. “I can’t complain, is all I’m saying.”

“How about you Orion? Dark eyes, messy hair, all those tattoos - your fans must love this,” she winked with a sly smile, “At least I know where I would try to go after a show if I was a little younger.”

Lizzie tried very much not to roll her eyes.

“Even if they do, I wouldn’t know of it,” Orion answered serenely. “While I love all our fans dearly, my relationship with them ends when our show does.”

“So no stories behind your many tattoos? No tales of long lost love?”

“I didn’t say there are no stories,” Orion replied, “only that they have nothing to do with any fans of ours.”

Trying to steer the conversation to a less dangerous topic, he started explaining the stories behind some of the less meaningful tattoos on his wrists and arms. Lizzie knew each and every one of them by heart, the pictures as familiar to her as Orion’s smile when she ran her fingers over his painted skin.

What he didn’t mention was the biggest of his tattoos and her favourite one; the giant dreamcatcher running along the whole length of his back. Thinking about the intricate lines made a little smile appear on her face.

She didn’t even notice Rita asking her way through the rest of her friends until the reporter’s attention turned to her.

“All of your friends seem to be quite the fans of body art; what about you, Lizzie? Do you have any tattoos as well?”

Lizzie flashed Rita the brilliant but noncommittal smile reserved for the people she just couldn’t stand. “I do have one, yes.”

Rita raised an eyebrow when she didn’t continue. “And where might that be?”

Lizzie chuckled in response. “That will stay my little secret.”

Her gaze was fixed on Rita, but out of the corner of her eye she could see Orion fighting hard to suppress a grin. Of course, he knew exactly where it was.

Rita blinked, clearly irritated by her answer, the same empty smile that was on Lizzie’s face never leaving her red lips.

“Very well, keep your secret - for now. I’ll find out eventually.”

Her smile broadened, a dangerous glint shining in her eyes. “All secrets have their way of ending up with me, one way or another.”

Rita stood up from her armchair to get herself something to drink. When she turned her back on them, Lizzie slowly breathed out, relieved to have the blonde’s prying eyes taken off her.

As the others got up to leave the set as well, Orion and Lizzie’s eyes met for a moment. A smile was playing around his lips as they dropped to where her tattoo was hidden from everybody else’s sight.

She felt her lips curve into a smile of her own and she crossed her arms in front of her chest, her hand resting over the small spot on her ribcage where the words that resonated with her so much were inked into her skin. Seeing what she was doing, Orion couldn’t contain his grin any longer. Judging by the twinkle in his eyes, the memory of when he had first seen them was playing just as vividly in his mind as it did in hers.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #rockstar au #orion amari #lizzie jameson #merula snye #skye parkin #when stars ignite #wsi #besties collaborate

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hqbbg · 4 years

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butterflies.

pairing: bokuto x chubby fem!reader

summary: bokuto doesn’t understand why everyone’s giving you a hard time.

genre: fluff

word count: 1.6K

warnings: people are mean to reader >:(

You saw many flaws about yourself growing up, whether they were first pointed out to you by your parents, schoolmates, or even the cashier lady at the supermarket. The one particular flaw that seemed to follow you around throughout all the years seemed to revolve around one thing: your weight.

Looking in the mirror, you used to not see what was so wrong with how your body looked. You truly didn’t think you looked as overweight as those around you made it seem, but their words began to contaminate your thoughts and soon, you saw what they saw: someone who simply did not fit into a conventionally “beautiful” body, a standard set by models on magazine covers.

Some people had called you cute while growing up, but as you sat in your classroom during your second year of high school alone while others had gone to join their friends, you most definitely felt like all the kind words people had told you before held no meaning or sincerity to them.

“Hey, hey, hey!”

You’ve been hearing this every other day lately. It was always at the beginning of lunch time, give or take a few minutes depending on the day. The source of the brief disturbance to the white noise of the classroom was none other than Bokuto Koutarou, a third year. He always came to hang out with Akaashi, a classmate of yours that sat a few rows down from you.

You had seen Akaashi once or twice last year in the hallways, but never spoke to him, and even this year as his classmate, you barely exchanged any words. He seemed like a relatively quiet and observant person, so part of you wondered how he and Bokuto seemed so close yet were polar opposites.

You had been lost in your own thoughts, too busy staring off into space to notice a few classmates come up to sit at the desks around you.

“What, is our little piggy not hungry today?”

This was not unfamiliar territory for you. Once or twice throughout the week, a few students would get bored with themselves and decide to pick on you or taunt you. Usually, you would ignore them with your head hung low, and they would just get bored again, deciding to leave you alone until they saw another opportunity to mess with you.

Things like this used to bother you a lot more than they did now. Of course, their words would still keep you awake at night occasionally, but you’ve learned to move on.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to lose weight before; nothing just seemed to work. It was as if your body had reached its current weight and stubbornly refused to change, no matter how much your heart and mind willed it. Your mother would toss in a few comments here and there about how boys wouldn’t want you because of this complex of yours and your father wouldn’t stand up for you. You supposed they were right, since the only time boys were interested in talking to you was to either make fun of you or compare notes after class.

“Did you not hear us, piggy?”

“You guys are talking in her face, so I’m sure she heard you loud and clear.”

You snap your head up towards the source of the voice and see Bokuto looking over in your direction. He has an unreadable expression on his face and your eyes flicker towards Akaashi as he also looks in your direction, his face blank with indifference to the situation.

“With all due respect, this doesn’t concern you,” replies one of the boys sitting in front of you.

“How rude,” says Bokuto. “Akaashi, you never told me how mean your classmates were!”

The third year turns to look at Akaashi, a pout on his face as he points to the group around you. Any thoughts you had of him being cool for butting in and momentarily diverting the attention away from you have all disappeared and it seems that everyone’s mental image of the suave and cool upperclassman have collectively shattered.

“Everyone is mean to Y/L/N-san,” Akaashi replies coolly.

You have to admit, as much as that statement should irk you, it doesn’t because you know it’s true.

“Why?” Bokuto turns his head back and looks directly at you. You feel yourself stiffen in your seat. He blinks his eyes a couple times, as if he can’t understand what anyone could possibly be giving you a hard time for. Part of you finds it refreshing, but another part of you is skeptical.

“This guy’s weird,” mutters one of the girls next to you. “Let’s just go.”

You feel a little dumbstruck as you watch the students around you stand and walk away before your eyes slowly return back to the pair of boys who are still staring at you. You can feel your face heat up at the realization that their eyes haven’t left you yet and you shift uncomfortably in your seat, clearing your throat.

“T-Thanks.”

Before anyone else can say anything, you quickly grab your lunch and head out of the room, muttering halfhearted apologies to the students you bump into as you walk down the hall. You make your way to the rooftop where a few other groups of students are enjoying their lunch and find yourself a decent and secluded spot. Maybe the fresh air would cool you down and prevent yourself from overthinking the situation that had just unraveled.

The next few days, you avoid eating lunch in the classroom and go back to the spot on the rooftop; you aren’t disturbed there and find it quite peaceful. You get used to not hearing Bokuto’s unique greeting and things seem to slowly go back to how they used to be.

“Hey, long time no see!”

You glance up as you walk down the hall, seeing Bokuto walking towards you, presumably heading back to his class as you head for yours. Although you’re sure he’s addressing you, you glance around to ensure that it really is you he’s talking to.

“Yeah, you! You’re in Akaashi’s class,” Bokuto laughs heartily as he walks up to you, stopping only a few paces away. “You know, no one really answered me when I asked why everyone is so mean to you.”

You can only look up at him, unsure what exactly his motives might be. There’s no way he’s this oblivious, right? You’ve heard stories about him, being a remarkable volleyball player and assumed that he would be intelligent. Was that limited to just volleyball?

“I should get back to my class,” you reply, bowing your head halfheartedly before rushing back to your classroom.

Needless to say, you’re socially awkward. No one has really given you this much attention without throwing a blatant insult at your face, so you’re unsure how to handle it. It isn’t until a week later when you miss the timing of heading to the rooftop for lunch and see Bokuto enter the classroom, making a straight beeline to sit in the empty desk in front of you, facing you. Akaashi has also moved closer, sitting in the desk to your right, looking at you with the same indifferent expression on his face.

“So, I’ve really been trying to figure it out for the past week and a half,” says Bokuto, propping his elbow on your desk as he leans his chin onto his palm, “and I still don’t get it.”

Your eyes flicker back towards Akaashi, but he doesn’t move a muscle that indicates that he’s helping you get out of this situation.

“W-Well, I…”

What’s he talking about? What are you supposed to say?

“Are you mean? Is that it? You seem like a normal girl, so I really don’t understand why everyone treats you so poorly,” says Bokuto, not letting you finish your half-developed thought. Is he teasing you? Is this some cruel way of indirectly making fun of you?

“Do you really not see it?” You ask, finding some rare confidence spurred by the thought of his antics being motivated to hurt you like everyone else.

You finally look into his eyes and see no malice in them, quickly casting your eyes back down when you can feel yourself blushing at the innocent intensity of his eyes staring back at you.

“Is there something I should be seeing?”

“I,” you pause. You’re suddenly afraid to say your next sentence because it’s a thought that was drilled into your brain since you were younger, but say it anyways. “I’m fat.”

Bokuto frowns.

“So?”

Well, that wasn’t an answer you were expecting.

“Huh?” You look at him again, brows furrowing slightly.

“What he means is, he doesn’t see why that’s a reason for you to be bullied,” Akaashi speaks up. Bokuto nods his head quickly, realizing the mistake in his word choice.

“Yeah, that’s what I meant!”

You narrow your eyes slightly in suspicion.

“No, really, Y/N! You look perfectly fine to me.”

You try not to show your surprise upon hearing Bokuto say your name, but you’re not sure how well you hide it. You want to question how he knows your first name, but something tells you that the boy sitting to your right has something to do with it.

“Thanks,” you say awkwardly, unsure of what else to say.

“If anyone gives you a hard time, let me know! I’ll take care of it for you,” Bokuto sits up, puffing his chest. You’re hesitant but feel your lips tug into the slightest smile.

“You don’t have to, Y/L/N-san. He’s all bark and no bite anyways,” says Akaashi. You feel your lips pull a little further into a smile. Bokuto looks like he’s about to complain or whine to Akaashi, but is stopped when he looks at your face.

“Wow, so you do know how to smile,” Bokuto grins at you. “You should do it more often. It suits you.”

That might’ve been the first time in your whole life to have ever felt butterflies in your stomach.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyu #haikyuu imagines #haikyū!!#haikyuu oneshot #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto imagines #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff

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taiblogcomics · 3 years

Text

I Can’t Pet Force You To Read This One, But...

Hey there, high school crushes. Well, it's finally here. Can you believe it? Yes, counting from the original Xanga site (which, yes, still counts. It's like our own Golden Age publication or apocryphia), this is our 10th anniversary of reviewing comics. That's fantastic. I'm excited, can't you tell? I can tell, since I'm writing this preamble a good two months before the actual anniverary~

So, last year we reviewed the absolute pile of dreck that is Heroes in Crisis. And while that was worth ripping into, I'd rather not spend the 10th anniversary hating on something. I'd like to do something actually meaningful to me. I've teased about this one for many years, probably for as long as I've been doing this blog, and I think it's time we stopped pussyfooting around and reviewed some Garfield. But not just any Garfield. It's finally time, my friends. This... is Garfield's Pet Force.

I dunno how many people will remember this one. Maybe you recall the direct-to-DVD movie adaptation from 2009, or at least advertising for it. I never saw it, but apparently it differs a bit. They also appeared a few times in those Garfield comics from back in the day. We even reviewed a couple (some were on the Xanga blog). But what we're looking at here are the original novellas published between 1997 and 1999. So yeah, these really are from my childhood. And since I've long espoused that Garfield was always funnier 20 years ago, this must be actual premium Garfield content, yeah? By golly, I hope so, because we got five whole books here today. So we should probably get into them~

Book 1: The Outrageous Origin

This is a classic sort of superhero cover. Standard team shot of poses, and that's fine for a first volume. In fact, that's great. Later editions of this would replace the lightning-filled gradient background with a pure white one, but I have this original version. We'll get to specifics about these characters in the meat of the story, but let's talk about the costumes for a bit. Very classic early-'90s sort of look, before the Dark Age kicked in. Reminds me a lot of Jim Lee's X-Men designs, actually. Making all your characters visually distinct is important in a team book. The heavy lean into secondary colours is unusual for heroic characters, but not unwelcome.

So we actually start with a cold open in the superhero universe. This is pretty much to introduce us to the characters as soon as possible, and thus I'll do the same for you here.

*Garzooka, team leader, super strong, has a razor-sharp claw, and can shoot radioactive hairballs from his mouth. That's... at least a unique power, I don't think anyone on the Justice League can do that~ *Odious, the dumb muscle with the accent on the "dumb". Possibly even stronger than Garzooka, and possessing a "super-stretchy stun tongue", an elastic tongue that can scramble the minds of whoever it adheres to. *Starlena, the team girl. She can fly, and she has a siren song that can put those who hear it into a hypnotic trance. Garzooka is the only one immune to its effects, for reasons that are never explained. *Abnermal, the kid-appeal character. He has ice powers, forcefields, and an ill-defined "pester power" that means he can annoy people on a greater scale than normal folks. It's pretty much only used for comic relief, but that could be a brilliant power in the right hands. *Compooky, the brains of the operation. Other than flight, his powers are limited to super intelligence, which means he's usually the exposition guy. There's probably a reason they left him out of the movie adaptation~

You got all that? Don't worry, we'll introduce you again later in the book. What actually happens in the intro chapter isn't really important, it's just setting up the universe. In fact, it's all taking place within Pet Force #99, a comic just enjoyed by Nermal. Yes, we quickly cut over to the main Garfield universe ("our universe", the narrator calls it), where Pet Force is just a comic book. The Garfield gang is all outside, enjoying a cookout prepared by Jon Arbuckle. Nermal is extremely enthused by his comic book, and brags about how he has all 98 previous issues sealed and polybagged, and this one will soon join them. Sorry, Nermal, this came out in 1997, the speculator boom already went bust~

Garfield dismisses comic books as stupid because you can't eat them or use them as a blanket, and declares that none of the stuff that happens in the comic could possibly happen in real life. Uh oh, irony! Because these things can happen, and do! It's a parallel universe, baby! This might be one of my earliest introductions to a "parallel worlds" concept. Much like Earths 1 and 2 in pre-Crisis DC, the events of the comic are essentially the real life adventures of their super-powered counterparts in another dimension. Most of the action in these stories will take place there~

So here's the setup: Vetvix (the parallel equivalent to Liz the veternarian) is an evil sorceress and scientist, who essentially wants to experiment on animals in peace, and possibly subjugate the universe while she's at it. You could argue that Liz is an odd choice for villain, since our universe's Liz isn't particularly evil. But then, our universe's Garfield isn't particularly heroic either. She operates out of a deadly space station called the Orbiting Clinic of Chaos, and at present she's waiting for the arrival of her henchman, Space Pie-Rat, who is a six-foot-tall anthropomorphic rat dressed in stereotypical pirate getup. Vetvix has just finished inventing a levitation ray, and she'd like Pie-Rat to go out and use it to steal all the food in the universe. Vetvix doesn't think small, is what I'm saying.

The counter to Vetvix is Emperor Jon, ruler of the planet Polyester. He's kind and benevolent, even if he's a little dippy and his fashion sense atrocious. Having gotten wind of Vetvix's latest plan, he contacts Pet Force in their ship, the Lightspeed Lasagna. Upon learning the problem, Pet Force gives chase to Pie-Rat. They eventually corner him on some desolate planet, landing and entering an abandoned factory. Unfortunately, they're not safe amongst the dangerous machinery, because this turns out to be a trap. Vetvix has been busy as hell, because she's also invented a metal that's impervious to their powers. And that's not all, because she's also basically invented the Phantom Zone, where she traps Pet Force forever. It specifically mentions it doesn’t kill them, because it wouldn't be kosher to murder the heroes in a Garfield book~

The Lightspeed Lasagna has both onboard cameras connected to the heroes' belts as well as automatic return protocols, so within two days, Emperor Jon knows exactly what's happened to Pet Force. He needs help, so he calls upon his most trusted and powerful advisor: Binky the Sorceror. Binky's just as loud and obnoxious as in the main universe, but he's also a powerful magician. He conjures up a spell for Emperor Jon that lets him pierce the veil between universes. It's basically Equestria Girls rules: parallel universes have similar characters between them. So to replace Pet Force, they need the nearest genetic equivalents from another universe. And that's the versions of Garfield, Odie, Arlene, Nermal, and Pooky that we know and love~

Back in the main universe, it's another day entirely. Another cookout is taking place, and Nermal has received his special anniversary issue of Pet Force #100. The cover's really special, dripping with '90s cover gimmicks like glow-in-the-dark and embossing. A rarely used one, though, was "portal to another universe". That was pretty expensive to print, so you won't find many comics like Nermal's. Maybe he had something there with the collecting after all. The cover glows, and while Jon is distracted by the grill, Garfield and Friends disappear~

They reappear in Emperor Jon's wood-paneled throne room, now transformed into Pet Force. Emperor Jon and Sorceror Binky try to explain the situation, but Garfield--now Garzooka--is disbelieving of the whole thing. In fact, even the idea that Jon can now hear him talk absolutely floors him. Since he's about to deliver the exposition for everyone, can we talk about Compooky for a minute? This spell has just granted sapience to Garfield's teddy bear. I don't expect deep philosophy from a children's novella, but the ramifications of this are really under-explored. Like, never mind the whole idea of a teddy bear having the same genetic makeup as an alternate universe equivalent. He goes from inanimate object to fully conscious being, and he just rolls with it.

Anyways, once everybody gets caught up on what's going on and accepts the new reality, a training montage ensues so the group can all learn to use their powers without killing each other. Once at least reasonably trained, the reborn Pet Force is sent out to stop Pie-Rat. He's gotten sloppy in the times with Pet Force dead, so they track him down easily. After a brief scuffle where Garzooka takes his eyepatch, Pie-Rat flees in his ship. They follow Pie-Rat back to the Orbital Clinic of Chaos, but they can't go in the front. That led the original Pet Force into a trap. Finding an unguarded maintenance hatch--standard on any big space station--they enter Vetvix's lair for a final confrontation!

After dealing with the Waiting Room of Doom, which slowly fills with outdated magazines, they enter Vetvix's inner sanctum. Frustrated with Pie-Rat's failure, she uses her magic to turn him into an ordinary mouse. Vetvix then attempts to use her same weapon on this new Pet Force, but thanks to story contrivance, it only works on beings born in this universe. As other dimensional visitors already, they can't be banished to another dimension. She then pulls a Dr. Claw and runs off cursing Pet Force's name while her base self-destructs. Vetvix is a very "discard and draw" sort of villain, it seems. Pet Force, of course, makes a harrowing escape just in the nick of time.

Returning to Emperor Jon, they vow to be ready to return whenever they're called on, since evil never stays dormant for long. Odious even gifts Emperor Jon with the mouse-ified Pie-Rat as proof of their victory. Well, I'm glad they remember that, so they didn't accidentally murder a major villain in their first superhero outing. They're returned to their own universe, and the time differential between them places them back with Jon having not had time to even look up from the grill. Garfield begins to doubt the adventure even happened--until that night, when he finds Pie-Rat's eyepatch still on his person. Ah, definitive proof of... eyepatches, I guess~

Book 2: Pie-Rat's Revenge!

You have to wonder where, in a space-faring superhero setting, Pie-Rat got the inspiration for his classic pirate motif. It's a little incongruous is all I'm saying. And hey, remember when I said earlier that Garzooka's purple-and-green colour scheme was odd for a hero? Well, here he is as a villain! That'll catch your eye. This would be a terrific comic cover, which is what you want in a series like this.

The book opens with a brief recap of the previous story's events, then moves into the new plot. See, Emperor Jon has opted to keep the polymorphed Pie-Rat as his pet. How very Ron Weasley of him. That's pretty apt, actually, because similarly Pie-Rat has maintained his intelligence in his new mousey form. Pie-Rat gets sick of being Emperor Jon's pet and plans a daring escape, exploiting the emperor's dimwitted and loving personality against him. Pie-Rat jams the lock with a food pellet and makes his escape that night.

Once free from his cage, he encounters Binky's cauldron, still left in the throne room from when the sorceror summoned Pet Force from Garfield's universe. Figuring he has nothing to lose, Pie-Rat jumps in the leftover brew. Suddenly he finds himself growing. He returns to his original anthropomorphic state--but with a twist. He's now twice his original height, a staggering twelve feet tall. He scoops up the rest of the remaining potion for later, and sneaks out of the palace as best as a 12-foot rat can sneak. Desiring revenge on both his former employer and his longtime foes, he steals Pet Force's ship and makes his escape from the planet, headed for Vetvix's newest base.

After his guards help Emperor Jon put the pieces of the problem together, they decide they must once again call upon the powers of Pet Force to recover their missing vehicle and stop the newly embiggened Pie-Rat. Fortunately, Garfield and friends have been watching movies all weekend, so Jon doesn't notice when his pets disappear from the living room in a bright flash. Of course, once returned to the alternate universe and the situation explained, they still have a problem: how do they give chase to Pie-Rat when he's got their ship?

And speaking of Pie-Rat in their ship, he's followed the trail of a mysterious energy output, and it's led him right to Vetvix's new base, the Menacing Moon of Mayhem. See, this is why you don't blow up your base: the backup base is never as good. if it was, it wouldn't be the backup. Given that it's such a shoddy base, Pie-Rat is easily able to get inside and get close to Vetvix. She's expecting a technological attack, so she's unprepared when he pulls out that vial of magic potion and sprinkles her with it. And naturally, the potion that made him grow 12 feet tall makes Vetvix shrink to 5 inches. It's magic, we don't have to explain it!

Pie-Rat takes the magic crystal that Vetvix uses to fuel her powers, which of course didn't shrink because magic is just bullshit. See previous paragraph's last sentence. And while Pie-Rat takes over the base and begins plotting a further revenge against Pet Force, we cut over to them. They're at Sorceror Binky's own castle, and it's clear he's a bit of a hoarder. This is to their advantage, though, as they eventually piece together a working spaceship out of old car parts and other things, all patched together between Compooky's know-how and Binky's magic. This seems like the sort of book where I could use that "it's magic" quote every other paragraph. But craft a new--if small--ship they do, and speed off in the newly christened Planetary Pizza.

The rickety little ship does eventually find its way to Pie-Rat's base, saving him the trouble of being proactive as a villain. The magic thing keeps happening, and Pie-Rat basically becomes Discord for a bit while he fights them, doing things like turning Starlena's siren song into actual living music notes. One by one, the members of Pet Force are taken out, with only Garzooka is left. He and Pie-Rat struggle, while Pie-Rat tries to aim the magic crystal at Garzooka. Garzooka uses his claw to rip the crystal from Pie-Rat and defeat him.

Unfortunately, here's where the cover comes in. It seems the moments Pie-Rat was focusing the crystal during the struggle affected Garzooka's mind. He puts the crystal around his own neck. which turns him evil. He helps Pie-Rat to his feet, and the pair escape in the Lightspeed Lasagna. While Pet Force pursues them in their ramshackle ship, the new criminal duo strikes the storage planet of Deli to steal their food. Pet Force manages to catch up as the villains celebrate their spoils, and use a magic blast from the systems Binky installed to short out the Lightspeed Lasagna. This enables them to dock with the ship and climb aboard for a contfrontation.

The group fights, and once again the bearer of a bullshit magic crystal subdues the heroes easily. Annoyed now, Garzooka takes hold of Starlena and prepares to kill her or something. She taps into the one thing she has left: she's not fighting just Garzooka, but Garfield in his body. She drops some heavy put-downs, which resonate with Garfield, and he hesitates long enough for her to cut the crystal off him. The crystal hits the floor and shatters, undoing its evil magics on Garzooka's mind as well as on all his teammates. With Pet Force reunited, Pie-Rat is easily subdued and locked up.

The group waits for the ship to power back up, then speed off to apologise to the planet Deli. Following that, they head back towards Vetvix's moonbase. That night, though, the magic that was making Pie-Rat 12 feet tall wears off, and he escapes from his cell. He steals the remaining shards of the crystal, climbs into the Planetary Pizza, and makes a getaway. As a bonus, he also repeats the power-down spell against the bigger ship, giving him ample time to escape. And he's not the only one. Over on the Menacing Moon of Mayhem, Vetvix also returns to her proper size, and abandons this base as well. And when Pet Force fails to find her, they simply return to their own universe, ready to be called on once again in the future~

Book 3: K-Niner: Dog of Doom!

Another very basic comic book-style cover. K-Niner is a much more typical villain in style. This one's actually a wrap-around, and features the rest of Pet Force reacting to K-Niner on the back cover. Which is good because, other than the first cover, the covers all have a heavy Garzooka focus. Which makes sense for a book series, I suppose, you wanna assure the kiddos that Garfield's gonna be in the book. But as a comic book series, this would be a bad look for a team book~

So after our standard introduction and recap, we start off with Vetvix in yet another new base, the Floating Fortress of Fear. I'm sure it's very intimidating, if she can keep hold of it for more than a single book. She's picking up from the epilogue and putting the last touches on K-Niner, mostly enhancing his intelligence. Now, you look at the cover and tell me what kind of voice you'd expect. Some sort of German or Austrian accent, like the doberman on Road Rovers? Does anyone remember Road Rovers~? Anyways, but no: he speaks with a posh British accent. You know, the "I say, good chaps, looks like we're in a bit of a sticky wicket, eh wot?" type. Trust me, you can tell. But just because he sounds refined doesn't mean he's not evil.

I also love that after the initial "trapped them in the Phantom Zone" bit, the villains just go whole ham. K-Niner here demonstrates that he is indeed evil by threatening to rip out Vetvix's throat. Let your villains be villainous is all I'm saying. She's pleased he's so vicious, but feels he needs to learn his place as well. She force-chokes him until he complies. She then gives him his assignment: she thinks dogs should be liberated. The Boy Mayor of Second Life would approve, and so does K-Niner. Turning pets on their masters is just his style.

K-Niner takes a portable evolution gun, and immediately sets off. He begins on the planet Kennel. Isn't it neat how every planet is named after an English word that describes its function? K-Niner quickly takes over the dog population and turns them against their masters, because boosting their intelligence also makes them evil, of course. They use enslavement collars on their former owners, and within a few days, the dogs now run the planet. We cut over to Emperor Jon on Polyester, where a man has crash-landed a ship. He's an escapee from Kennel, and he's here to report the events so we can get the plot moving and once more summon Pet Force!

And summoned once more they are, Garfield and Friends once more conveniently disappearing in a split second while Jon's back is turned (this time they're outside playing volleyball). And once back in the parallel universe, Emperor Jon fills them all in on K-Niner's dastardly doings. Garzooka, naturally, takes great offense to dogs being in charge, and takes his duties as a hero completely seriously for once. Pet Force takes off for a confrontation with K-Niner in the Lightspeed Lasagna. And speaking of Pet Force's ships...

The Planetary Pizza, piloted by Pie-Rat, plants its pads down on polar planet Glacia. Pie-Rat is here seeking a way to restore his magic crystal and regain his mighty magic powers. He's sought out the home of a legendary evil wizard, who's known by the name of... Barfo. I see why Barfo keeps his location a secret. But anyway, Barfo is the one who made the crystal, so naturally Pie-Rat reasons he can restore it as well. Suprisingly once on Glacia, Barfo's evil lair is pretty easy to find. His manservant, Hobart the Gnome, brings Pie-Rat before the wizard, and within moments the crystal is restored! Pie-Rat turns to thank Hobart, but Hobart suddenly turns into Vetvix!

Yes, Vetvix knew all along that Pie-Rat's quest would lead him here. And as she was once Barfo's student in the ways of evil magic, she knew she could get the old coot to go along with her plan. Barfo returns the crystal to Vetvix, restoring her powers. And so Pie-Rat, a recurring villain in three whole books, is unceremoniously done away with, as Vetvix teleports him inside an asteroid, trapping him in solid rock. Even if the asteroid were hollow or he displaced the interior when he teleported in, no doubt he'll suffocate within moments. That's pretty harsh.

With that over, we rejoin Pet Force as they approach Kennel. K-Niner's battle cruiser spots them incoming, and shoots the ship down, even in spite of Abnermal's forcefields. Pet Force bail out of the ship, and Abnermal uses his powers to make snow to cushion their fall. Upon landing, a contingent of mutant animals attack. The mooks aren't much, but K-Niner himself puts up an impressive fight. However, one of the mooks pulls a gun and points it at Compooky. This is why Compooky usually stays aboard the ship, but that wasn't an option. Rather than let their friend get hurt, Pet Force surrenders.

Pet Force is held prisoner separately from Compooky, with both the cell's technology making it freeze-proof and threats of "don't break out, or we'll shoot your compatriot". Their imprisonment is not long, though, as suddenly the power goes out. Pet Force takes advantage of the situation and make their escape, quickly running into Compooky. K-Niner didn't think the hyper-intelligent teddy bear needed a high security cell, and just locked him in the basement. It was easy for him to then break out and shut down the local power grid. This also has the side effect of turning off the control collars the humans were wearing. How convenient!

With control of the planet now tilted in their favour, Pet Force now has time to both fix their ship and reverse the polarity of the brain-boosting weapons, turning the dog population of Kennel back to their normal selves. Though the experience did change the pet owners of Kennel. Having experienced life in their pets' shoes (so to speak) for a bit, they've resolved to treat their canine companions a bit more equally. More being allowed on the furniture, less stupid tricks for treats. Still, Pet Force can't stay long, and they head off in pursuit of K-Niner's battle cruiser. This is why most superheroes don't have spaceships (Jedis don't count): if your enemy also has one, they can flee way more easily than on foot.

Not willing to let another place go to the dogs, as it were, Pet Force catches up with K-Niner. With his previous success, Vetvix has stepped up the timetable and sent him after Polyester right away. Emperor Jon is in danger! They enter the planet's atmosphere, and are attacked by fighter craft. They fend them off, but their weapons system is damaged in the fight, so they can't simply use the reverse brain-rays and solve it quickly. The team splits up instead: Garzooka and Abnermal will go after K-Niner, while the other three will find the planet's power source and knock out the collars, since that worked so well the last time.

The two heroes quickly make short work of K-Niner's guards, and then turn the battle to deal with the Dog of Doom himself. While the struggle goes on, the rest of Pet Force reach the planet's power grid. Using a clever tactic, Compooky overloads the power and causes and electrical storm that simultaneously undoes the brain-boosting effect and shorts out the enslavement collars. There's only a few pages left, after all, and we have to wrap this up. K-Niner is reverted back into an ordinary dog, and the emperor is reverted to an ordinary non-enslaved person. The day is saved!

And now once again, Pet Force prepares to return to their own universe. However... when the spell clears, the five heroes are still standing there. Something is blocking the passage between dimensions, and Pet Force is trapped. And while Pet Force's adventures have taken place between mere moments in their own universe, they have always returned quickly enough that Jon didn't notice a thing. But this time, as Jon retrieves the volleyball and turns around to his pets, he's surprised to find they've all vanished into thin air...

Book 4: Menace of the Mutanator

This one's very striking because of its more painted look compared to the heavy black outlines the rest of the covers have. Does this one count as having the whole team on the cover? Because, spoilers, that's what the Mutanator is: the rest of Pet Force mashed up into a villain. Again, though, that's definitely a striking image that'd draw in readers to a comic cover. In fact, while Garzooka may be over-used as a cover focus, several of these also show him imperiled in some way, and that's nice for character stuff. That helps balace it a bit~

I wanna say, before we start, that I'm impressed by the continuity for the series as a whole. They could've just written each story as a standalone, but for a series of 100-page children's novellas starring Garfield characters as superheroes, things happen in these books. Like, maybe not sweeping status quo changes, but events affect the plot of each next book down the line. And that's where we pick up! Right where the last book left off, with Pet Force now stuck in the alternate universe, unable to return home to Jon. But if they can't go home to Jon, well, maybe then events will conspire to bring Jon to them~

Yep, because Jon happens to wander into the room where they keep the copy of Pet Force #100 that acts as a portal to their universe, he gets transported into the Pet Force universe. And since Emperor Jon is still an extant entity, there's just two Jons now. Jon, of course, is a bit freaked out, and it takes several pages to explain the whole deal to him, and also have a showcase of all their powers to pad out the book some more. Eventually, they decide to call in Sorceror Binky to examine the problem. When he has a go of it, a sudden tornado emerges from the cauldron and whisks away Pet Force--save for Garzooka, whose prodigious strength keeps him anchored.

Garzooka heads out in the Lightspeed Lasagna to track Pet Force's signature, glad to get away from a double trouble Jon. And while he's searching, the scene cuts to Vetvix's Floating Fortress of Fear. Hey, one of her bases actually lasted more than one book! This is where Pet Force has been transported to, once more in a power-proof cell. Vetvix monologues to the heroes, as she is wont to do, explaining that she's the one who cast the spell to keep them from returning home. And further, she's brought them here to mutate them into her servants.

While Emperor Jon exposits about his backstory (turns out he is not of royal blood, and has about as much legitimate claim to the throne as you or I do), the search continues. Sorceror Binky detects Pet Force, giving them all a view of what happens next. The trapped members of Pet Force are literally broken apart and reassembled: Odious' body, Compooky's brain inserted into the chest, Abnermal's hands, and Starlena's head. She christens this beast "Mutanator", and it is soullessly obedient. I also wanna say, Mutanator's kind of a non-binary icon, aren't they? (The comic uses "it", but it was 1998 and alternative pronouns weren't really a thing yet.) Muscular, masculine body, but confident enough to still wear lipstick. It's a look, is all I'm saying~

Mutanator continues to possess the combined powers of Pet Force as well. Vetvix sends them to attack the planet Armory to gear up before attempting to conquer Polyester. And meanwhile, thanks to the convenience of being able to scan all of Compooky's memories now that his brain is part of Mutanator, Vetvix has the perfect trap to spring on Garzooka--or should she say Garfield. Yes, she really knows the whole origin for Pet Force now, and now she knows all Garfield's weaknesses, likes and dislikes, and probably blood type and other dating profile stats~

Thus, when Garzooka receives the coordinates from Emperor Jon and arrives at the Floating Fortress, he finds himself menaced by giant spiders. Vetvix couldn't think of a way to get Mondays to attack him, so the Giant Spider Invasion will do. Spiders are apparently very formiddable foes, Garzooka's personal fears aside. They can swat gamma hairballs out of the air, they can construct webs as quickly as certain Marvel heroes, and their hairy exoskeletons are resistant to both claw and strength. But despite his fear and Abnermal's running commentary, Garzooka manages to trounce the spiders with a carefully applied flame--taking Vetvix's blueprints with them.

Garzooka heads out once again to track down the Mutanator, leaving his less-than-all-together friends in the safety of their forcefield prison. While he's off, we return to the perspective of his target. Using their combined powers, the Mutanator swiftly conquers the planet Armory and sets their sights on Polyester next. It's not a bad plan, honestly. With the stockpile from Armory, not only will the Mutanator be more powerful, Polyester won't be able to use the planet for backup. Fortunately for the two Jons, though, Garzooka intercepts the Mutanator before they can leave Armory.

The fight's actually pretty good. Very back and forth. But even despite Garzooka's great strength, the Mutanator wins in the end. Thankfully, Vetvix puts her conquest of Polyester on hold to take the time to retrieve Garzooka and add his power to the Mutanator. This, of course will be her undoing--in a completely ridiculous way, of course. For back in the palace, our universe's Jon is watching Pet Force's struggles with the scrying cauldron. And he leans in a bit too close. Sowhile Vetvix is prepping the machine to divide Garzooka's body like she did the rest of Pet Force, Jon suddenly tumbles through the dimensional warp caused by the cauldron and lands on Vetvix, which causes her to put the machine in reverse. A real Jonnus ex cauldrona there, eh?

The Mutanator disappears, their existance as a unique being wiped out as their pieces return to their proper Pet Force owners. With Pet Force reassembled, Garzooka takes out Vetvix with one of his gamma-radiated hairballs while she's distracted by Jon. Pet Force decides that the vile veternarian should have a taste of her own medicine, and stick her in the body-splicing machine with some of her guards. This divides them all up and mixes them into bizarre combinations. It also has the side effect of disabling Vetvix's magic, so they can return to their own universe now.

The book wraps up here. Pet Force first returns to Armory to both return the stolen weapons and also make repairs on the buildings that were damaged in Garzooka's fight with the Mutanator. That's the sort of thing I'd like to see in more superhero stories in general. The two Jons part ways, with the Emperor believing the other Jon's heroism to have been deliberate. And thus are Garfield and friends returned home. And just like the end of their first adventure, where Garfield couldn't be sure if it really happened, so too is Jon's memory fading. Had he really witnessed all that? Only his pets know for sure--and in this universe, they can't talk~

Book 5: Attack of the Lethal Lizards

This one's another wrap-around, showing the rest of Pet Force engaging the remaining Lethal Lizards on the back cover. This is one advantage books have over comics: a front and back cover you can use for your story-telling. The Lizard designs are pretty good for a villain group too. Like Pet Force, they don't adhere to a particular theme, but they do look good individually. Garzooka roasting a hot dog on a stick might be a bit too comedic for a superhero story, though. It sets the tone wrong. How "lethal" can they possibly be if Garzooka is out here roasting hot dogs in the middle of battle?

So here we go, last book. After the usual recap, we open with Jon explaining to Garfield and friends his latest plans: they're going to WackyWorld, a theme park dedicated to Jon's favourite cartoon, The Wackies. Both Garfield and Nermal think the show is lame, and if those two agree on something, you know it must be so. In less lame universes, however, trouble is once more a-brewing. So it turns out Vetvix's Floating Fortress of Fear has been orbiting the swamp planet Reptilius this whole time. And her various experiments in the last two books have been radiating the planet in magical energy...

From that magical power, three reptiles find themselves uplifted in intelligence and granted fantastic powers. Please say hello to our three main villains for this book: Snake, an enormous snake (the only one without an anthro design) with stretching powers; Chameleon, who can shapeshift; and Dragon, a komodo dragon with fire breath and the bad attitude to match. While Snake and Chameleon figure out their powers, Dragon declares himself the leader as he's clearly the smartest, strongest, and most powerful. They name themselves the Lethal Lizards and start plotting how to rule the planet.

After that exciting intro, though, the book kind of slows down. First we get a whole chapter of Emperor Jon also deciding to go on vacation, to planet Funlandia. With Vetvix out of commission for a while, there's no better time. In short, he's out of the castle and Sorceror Binky is in charge. This is followed by a chapter of Jon and his pets at WackyWorld. It's certainly an accommodating amusement park to allow pets on its grounds. Garfield at least gets along with the food, but if you know anything about amusement park food prices, the amount Garfield eats will make your wallet weep. Jon takes his mind off it by dragging the pets along to a ride. Surely they have to be under the height restriction~

Fortunately, we get back to the actual stars of this book, and we see a bit more of their dynamic. Snake is the sort who sucks up to whoever's calling themselves "Boss" at the moment. Dragon is power-hungry, and it's clear he'll sell out his allies at the drop of a hat. Chameleon is Starscream. Anyway, they trek through the jungles of Reptilius until they find a downed spaceship. Reviewing the logs reveals it was a scout ship from Vetvix, and they also learn of Vetvix and her mission. However, they don't know where Emperor Jon lives, so they crowd into the the newly christened Rapacious Reptile and set course for the stars.

The first planet they come across is a world called Klod. Quickly the Lethal Lizards beat up the populace and find the local government. Chameleon shapeshifts into a dignitary, pretending to be an advance entourage for Emperor Jon, schmoozing with the governor until he learns both what Jon looks like and the name of his planet. With this information secure, Chameleon nips out suddenly, and the trio sets forth towards Polyester. Governer Klutz calls up the palace as soon as the reptiles depart, and reports the incident to Sorceror Binky.

Binky wastes no time, and he dials up Pet Force. Since all five are in one place, he's able to pull them through even without them being near the gateway through issue #100's cover. Convenient! Pet Force, however, does waste time, as a lengthy comedy scene eats up several pages before we just get on with it. Eventually, the situation is conveyed, and they figure it's safer to keep Emperor Jon on Funlandia for the time being. Compooky stays behind to help plan some strategies, while the rest of Pet Force boards the Lightspeed Lasagna to intercept the Lethal Lizards before they even arrive.

Pet Force spends the next few minutes both scanning for incoming ships and bickering with each other, so I'm very glad when the Rapacious Reptile appears on their detectors before too long. Dragon threatens the ship, telling them to move or he'll knock them aside. It's a spaceship, dude, you can move in three dimensions. The ships trade shots, and while Chameleon's piloting is actually pretty good due to his independently-rotating eyeballs, eventually both ships crash land on whatever planet is nearby.

Both ships crash right next to each other, which is improbable but less ridiculous than some of the contrivances in these books, so I'm okay with it. Now you'd think what with the enemies being reptiles and Abnermal having freezing powers that this battle would be over really easily, but no. In fact, Garzooka and Dragon are pretty evenly matched. Snake turns out to be immune to Starlena's siren song because snakes don't have external ears. See, now there's a contrivance I find a bit weird. Snake swallows Abnermal whole, and Chameleon and Odious get literally tongue-tied. The Lethal Lizards actually live up to their name pretty well.

As the fight continues, half of both sides are laid out when Compooky comes rushing up, saying he has an urgent message from the emperor. And that's when he sucker-punches the team. It was actually Chameleon in disguise, having gotten knocked away when he and Odious separated. So yeah, round one goes to the Lizards, and they make their escape first. Pet Force regroups, and they give chase. The Lizards have enough head start to really lay siege to Polyester before Pet Force arrives, though. They even get access to the palace using Chameleon's shapeshifting, leading to Sorceror Binky letting slip the real location of the emperor just as Pet Force arrives.

Another fight ensues--see, now it's really a superhero story--and the Lizards leave again 2 and 0. This time Snake uses his venomous fangs to attack Starlena. This leads to the weirdest contrivance yet. Maybe not the worst, but definitely the weirdest. They have only minutes to save Starlena. So how do they do it? Well, they notice that Odious drools quite a lot. It's very "fluid output". So they have Binky magically reverse Odious' drooling, so that he has "fluid input" on his tongue instead. It becomes a big suction sponge and sucks the poison out of Starlena. They then restore the drooling, and he just harmlessly drools out the poison. What.

With their teammate saved, Pet Force pursues the Lethal Lizards to Funlandia. They get there just in time to rescue Emperor Jon from their clutches, with Garzooka and Odious combining their strength to literally rip a kiddie ride out of the ground. Starlena corners Chameleon in a hall of mirrors, turning his own trick against him. Snake is undone by Odious' strength. And Garzooka fights Dragon to a standstill, finally trapping all three on a roller coaster still operating. When the ride comes to an end, Abnermal freezes them all until the authorities can retrieve them.

Naturally, Emperor Jon thinks it's all part of the show (because Jon is dimwitted in any universe). The Lizards are sent to a lizard-proof prison (seriously, it specifies this), and Pet Force returns to their own universe. As usual, Jon didn't notice his pets go missing during the dark amusement park ride. The book concludes on an ominous note, however, as the ship carrying the Lethal Lizards makes its jump to lightspeed just as it passes the Floating Fortress of Fear. The shockwave knocks over some debris that reactivates the combining machine, restoring Vetvix to her full evil might once more!

The end!

No, really. Those five books are all there was. I hear it may have continued into the comics, but I don’t know how accurate that is. I didn’t really look into it.

But boy, what a ride, huh? Let’s dissect the books one at a time, since it only seems fair to take them as individual stories.

The Outrageous Origin: It’s a fairly basic origin story, I’d say. It kind of has to be. I guess my main gripe is that, like Rita Repulsa’s entire run on Power Rangers, the heroes never fight the main villain directly. In fact, there’s barely even an evil plot in this one. You have henchmen and some traps, and that’s about it for the menace.

Pie-Rat’s Revenge: A cautionary tale about why you treat your minions with respect. This one’s pretty good, but the events depicted on the cover make up such a small part of the book. Wouldn’t it have been more fun if Garzooka was turned at the beginning of the story? Book 4 would at least do the reverse of that, so it’s not a major complaint~

K-Niner, Dog of Doom: I think this one’s about as middle of the road as you can get. What a coincidence that it’s also the middle of the series! Like I said in the recap portion, it’s a shame that Pie-Rat’s story ended here. This one definitely feels more “villain of the week” than most.

Menace of the Mutanator: This one might be the best book in the series. Garzooka, alone, battling against the best parts of his team? That’s gripping stuff. I guess the main problem is that the Mutanator isn’t really a character in and of themselves. Like, K-Niner, he may have been a generic rent-a-villain type, but he had a personality. Mutanator is little more than an extention of Vetvix’s will.

Attack of the Lethal Lizards: I’m a bit split on this one. The bits with the titular Lizards are great. They steal the show! But the parts where it focuses on either Jon kind of drag, and Pet Force is a bit too jokey here. Like, I get the point is that they’ve relaxed into their roles now, and there’s not much point of doing it as a Garfield story if they don’t actually use the character personalities, but... I dunno. It’s good, but it could have been better~

And that’s it! Like, I dunno how to wrap this up. Pet Force was neither my first exposure to superheroes nor my first introduction to the Garfield brand (you can thank Saturday morning cartoons for both of those). But for some reason, maybe just the absurdly goofy premise, it always kinda stuck with me. And I think that’s a good enough reason to make it my 10th anniversary review, don’t you~?

#books #reviews #Garfield #Pet Force #Garfield's Pet Force #Taiblog

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tell-tale-taeil · 3 years

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A customer (Chapter 1 out of 2)

Protagonists: Jeno Lee, original character, NCT Dream members mentioned Genre: mystery, noir, self-knowledge “Jeno wanders to a mysterious bookstore where he encounters even more mysterious individual, but somewhere deep down Jeno knows that this story is actually only about him.” TW: none

See other members’ stories here:

TBA

Author’s note: When I saw this particular moodboard, an idea sparked inside my mind. With a constant support from my friends, I finally finished the first half of the story that I am presenting to you now. Thank you for your love and kindness, this is for you, I hope you’ll like it :) Special thanks to Woo and Volpe for proofreading <3

Any feedback, reactions, comments, recommendations or ideas for other members’ stories are welcomed, I wouldn’t mind turning this into a series.

Tagging: @neocluefor , @your-local--trashcan Let me know if you want to be added!

A dark, dim evening, the sun had just set, bits of the dusky orange sky shone through the maze of power lines, chimneys, rooftops and posts. As Jeno was walking down an empty tucked away backstreet, he felt like he set foot on a hidden crossroad between two worlds. The feeling of the unknown and the unexplored sent shivers down his spine and he quickened his pace, as he did not wish to get held up at here any longer than necessary. He told his manager he just wanted to grab something warm to eat and stretch his legs a little, but the truth was… He wanted to be alone.

Not so long ago Jeno realised he has a very rare gift – a gift of invisibility. Wherever he’d go, no matter how many people surrounded him, he felt unseen and unnoticed. Jeno, we need you to voice over this ad. Jeno, we need you to shoot a dance video. Jeno, we need you to smile for the photos. No, no, do the thing with your eyes, yes. Oh, you’re still here? We don’t need anything now. Sorry, were you saying something? Listen I gotta go, talk to you later maybe? Everyone knows Jeno the idol, but how many people have heard of Jeno the person? How many people remember Jeno the friend from school, Jeno the boy next door? What’s the point of rushing back into dorms, if he’s going to feel all the same? At least at here I can hear my own thoughts for a change. Without having to fight to get a word in. Noone’s interested in what you have to say anyway, so be a man, Jeno, and go sulk somewhere where people don’t have to look at your sorry face. Hmm, jjamppong sounds nice.

He walked where his feet led him, hands in the pockets of his coat, eyes staring blankly on the passing pavement tiles, red tiles, black tiles, grey tiles, shapes and figures, forms and contours. His mind unfocused, his thoughts scattered. Stop. Wait. Like in a dream, he saw himself standing in front of a narrow door, black paint flaking away, a few variously shaped and randomly placed yellow window panes, a big brass handle waiting to be pulled. He noticed a little oval plaque in his field of vision and the next thing he knew, he was standing in the middle of a bookshop. A minute passed, maybe ten, maybe an hour. Jeno glanced around, scratching his head. „Uh… good evening!“ He bowed his head a little, even though he didn’t see anyone at the counter. Nevertheless, he felt like he’s being watched, scrutinized, evaluated. Something was staring at him and Jeno suddenly wished that he was invisible again. He turned his head to where he felt the uncomfortable feeling coming from and there it was - behind the desk, on the left side of the wall, squished between large overflowing bookcases, right next to a tall wooden coat-stand shaped like an old tree - a red door with a big round opened eye painted on it. The door was opened, just a few centimetres, and a faint piano music was coming from inside. Come in, if you dare.

Jeno cleared his throat. Might as well look around properly, before they come back out. It’s no use of shouting or trying to make myself heard while that song is still playing. Listening to the melancholic but somewhat promising tune, Jeno inspected the surroundings. The shop looked messy and untidy. Chaos was the king of this castle, carelessness the lady of this household and together they ruled over their tiny land made of heaps of books, magazines and papers haphazardly placed on each other, shelves full of postcards and pictures, walls covered with ornaments and embellishments. Without a single tag or label in sight, Jeno wondered how could anyone find anything in here. He imagined the miscellaneous objects flowing into the shop and never leaving again. His gaze landed on a flashy pink paper packet filled with chewing gums in a no less showy wrapper on one of the shelves. Cool, a freebie! He reached for the gum, unpacked it and threw it into his mouth only to immediately pull a disgusted face as he chewed into the candy. It was like biting into a tasteless rubber. He spit it back out into the crumpled wrapper, put it next to the rest of the unused gums and set out to look for a trash can. He tripped on the thick dusty carpet and nearly stepped on something that looked rather expensive. This must be a bookshop with super rare prints and antiquities of some kind, this isn’t a place for me, I don’t fit in here, I should leave. And so, he stayed, bound in the place by a force of increasing curiosity he did not quite understand.

The piano stopped playing. Perfect, now’s my chance. „Hello? You, uh, have a customer! Heh…“ he stuttered awkwardly. Jeno wasn’t the type of a person who would enjoy excessive attention. If he ever tried to voice his opinion and was met with disregard or unconcern, he would simply think it was because his opinion on that matter was stupid and pointless. That’s why he was fairly used to this, not being heard. The only difference was that usually the rest of the members would fill the room with their chatter, so his lack of involvement in the group activities would normally go unnoticed. Unlike here, where the only sound was a deathly silence and Jeno’s thoughts humming in his head. He already spoke twice, what more does he need to do to be heard? Raise his voice? I just want to buy a book and get out of here. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak and right at that moment, the piano started playing again.

„Wha-, are you kidding me?“ he mumbled quietly under his breath. He looked around, confused, as if he was looking for understanding and sympathy from the other angry customers waiting for their turn to be served. He was the only one here and yet they’re making him wait. What is this, a private concert? Did they possibly saw him coming? Did they think that they’ll impress him with playing lowkey creepy piano melodies? This better not be a prank. He really wasn’t in the mood for fans and he didn’t think he could fake a smile at this hour. But he didn’t notice any hidden cameras, or any security cameras at all for that matter. He paced around the room nervously, scratching his neck. That’s it, I’m leaving. I don’t need that book anyway. I don’t need anything. If they don’t want me here, that’s okay, I’ll do just fine on my own.

He made a few strides towards the front door and then turned around again. „Hellooo! I came here to ask about books! Books that you happen to be selling!“ he raised his voice to the most pleading yet still polite level. The piano stopped again and Jeno gazed hopefully at the red door. He started walking back to the counter, slowly, carefully, as if he didn’t want to scare off the possibility of finally being served. He leaned on the desk, ready to place his order, tapping his fingers impatiently on the dark wooden surface. And just like that, as if it wanted to laugh directly into Jeno’s face, the piano started playing yet another tune, as impatient as Jeno himself. He pursed his lips and bent his head down. What the heck is this place, huh? A bookstore or a concert venue? At least serve some coffee and cake next time! He could just leave, never come back and forget about this place. But he really needed that book, he’s been looking for it so long, and he knew, he just knew, that this is the right place to look for it.

„Alright!“ Jeno raised his head and pointed his index finger to the door, from which the music was coming. „I’m going in there! And I’m going to knock real loud, so you better not be scared or surprised or angry!“ I doubt they can hear me, he thought, as the music only grew louder and louder. Okay, here we go… He approached the door behind the counter, cautiously, and with his finger still pointing forwards he tapped on the red wood with his nail a few times, gingerly, like he was expecting the door to bite his hand, after a while he shook his head and finally made a few feeble knocks. He put his head inside with a quiet: „Excuse me…“ and peeped into the backroom. As soon as his foot touched the threshold, the music stopped playing and Jeno opened the door wide. The room was small and empty, safe for the piano by the wall. No other door, windows, cabinets, electrical appliances, boxes, merchandise, not even trash. Just four bare walls and the damn piano that he swore was playing just a mere second ago.

Jeno gulped, his hand on the doorknob, his feet midstep, his whole body ready to run in the even that something would go wrong. Now now, be brave. „Hello?“ his voice was dry, hoarse and small. Goosebumps covered his nape. „Oh! A customer!“ said a voice behind him. „JESUS CHRIST!“ Jeno nearly fell back onto the ground, as he made several hurried steps backwards, tripping over boxes, books and papers, knocking over the tree coat-stand which embraced him in its patulous grip, making him feel trapped. „Can I help you?“ said the voice and as Jeno’s ragged breath started to decelerate again and as the stars stopped dancing in front of his eyes, only now he saw a pale face hovering in the shadows of the dimly lit place. The initial shock was over and, gradually, the face grew hair, and connected with a torso, arms and legs. „I…“ Jeno stuttered as he finally untangled himself from the clasp of the coat-stand and stood straight, „came here to buy a book.“ He clutched his hand near his heart and blinked hard for a few times. Get a grip, man, get a grip. „Then you’re in the right place! After all, this is a bookstore and we store all kinds of books,“ smiled the face that no longer resembled a ghost, but a person. „I’ve been… waiting here for 15 minutes… at least.“ He tried to sound angry, but the truth was he wasn’t really sure of how much time he actually spent here. Oh my god. A thought just crossed his mind. What if they’re already closed and I didn’t notice and just practically barged in here demanding to be served?!?! He wiped his forehead and opened his mouth to apologize for his intrusion, but before he could say anything, the figure in front of him spoke again. „Gosh, but I didn’t hear or see you at all!“ said the person, covering their red coloured lips with their hand. Typical. „I… tried to…“ Jeno sighed. If they didn’t hear me, I should have made more effort I guess. „I apologize, I’m sorry for the inconvenience I caused you.“ He bowed his head slightly. The person, dressed in a silky black dress that rustled with every step, fixed their dark eyes on Jeno’s apologetic face and shook their head disappointedly. They passed Jeno, who hurriedly backed out of their way, bumping into the red door, oh, I could have sworn the eye was open. huh, weird, and started to rummage through the bookshelves and bookcases, opening drawers and cabinets, dancing around all the clutter with their feet bare, without knocking over a single thing.

„So?“ asked the bookstore owner, combing through a particularly overflowing drawer. „Sorry?“ „Which book are you looking for?“ Jeno resisted the urge to facepalm himself and laughed nervously instead. „Ah, the book…“ Wait, the book? What book? „Umm… the book,“ he frowned. Why is he here again? He finished his schedule, yes, and then got out of the car sooner than the rest, because…? Because I wanted to buy a book? Uhh… I guess? „Um, yeah, I was hoping to get a book about the history of-“ „Hey!“ the character was now standing in the middle of the room, their arms crossed in an irritated manner, the long red painted nails tapping angrily. „Did you eat my chewing gum?“ You IDIOT! And you even left the wrapper and the actual gum right there on the shelf, ugh! „I’m really sorry,“ Jeno started apologizing at the double, „it was just sitting there, I thought-“ „How did it taste?“ asked the owner. „Um…“ Jeno blinked a few times and frowned. „Weird,“ he answered, looking down at his feet, like he was feeling guilty and disappointed at the same time. „I remember really liking this brand and it surprised me that is tasted so… stale,“ he answered truthfully. The woman sighed. „No wonder. It’s a special edition, a collectible. It’s been sitting here for five years. And now it’s ruined.“ She took the whole package in her hands and shook her head, discontented. Who the hell stores a pack of freaking chewing gums? „I guess I should have treated it better, maybe all the exposure made it tasteless and bland.“ She clicked her tongue. „What a shame. But at least the wrapping is still colourful and pretty to look at.“ „Uh… yeah. Sorry about that.“ She put the gums back in place and resumed with the thorough scouring of the area. „What book did you say you wanted?“ Oh, yeah, the book. The damn book again. „Ah, yeah, um… I was interested in the techniques of-“ „How about this one?“ The woman, currently kneeling down by one of the huge bookcases, proposed. Jeno stared at her, eyes wide. She reached under the furniture, scrabbled and felt around a bit, until she triumphantly retrieved a blue hardback tome. Just what is going on in here?

Jeno watched the woman get up again, dust down her knees with a sigh, and then walk back behind the counter. She put the book on the desk and Jeno finally got a good look. The jacket was dusty, creased and torn in a few places. There were no pictures or details, it was just… blue. „Sound…” he read out loud. „Sound?“ Jeno raised an eyebrow. „That’s the title, yes.“ „It looks like a… heavy reading.“ He took the book in his hands to weigh it, it must be at least 500 pages long. „And pretty expensive.“ „It’s a poetry book, if you’re worried about the pages. And you don’t have to pay me for it.“ „Ah, I-… Wait, what? You don’t want me to pay you for it?“ „No, because I am not selling it to you. I’ll only let you borrow it. I‘ve always wanted to read it, because I am curious about the story, but… Do you sometimes get the feeling, be it a book, a movie, a photograph, or even a new pair of shoes, that it’s calling out to you? And when you finally get it, it’s like it’s your missing puzzle piece that you didn’t even know you need and it makes you complete?“ „I… guess, yeah.“ But not really, no. I can’t remember the last time I had this feeling. „Well, turns out, this book doesn’t complete me.“ She packed it in a plain paper bag and sealed it with a decorative tape. „But it might complete you,“ the owner said expectantly, sliding the wrapped book towards Jeno. He touched the paper and for a while, the room drowned in complete silence and time stopped, like a movie that froze and only showed a single frame. A frame with a book wrapped in a plain paper bag in the center, a woman’s hand with red fingernails touching it on the right, a man’s veined hand touching it on the left. Jeno’s hand.

He moved his fingers the tiniest bit and with them, the book. His body was immediately hit with a wave of electricity, the time unfroze and Jeno sighed heavily, leaning against the counter, like he just ran a hurdle race. „Will that be all?“ asked the owner with a kind smile. „I… can’t just take it.“ „You already did.“ She pointed towards the book Jeno was hugging anxiously, like he was afraid someone would steal it from him. He looked down, sighed again and finally stood up straight again. „I can’t take it for free. Even though I’m just borrowing it. How do you know I won’t run off with it?“ „Are you a thief?“ „No, but… I could be!“ „Well, in that case… How about you leave something behind then, like a pledge? I quite like the ring of yours,“ she pointed on Jeno’s hand, which he quickly pulled away. „That’s… it’s not anything fancy, and it’s bent, twisted… it’s worthless.“ „I’ll lend you a thing that’s worthless to me and you’ll lend me a thing that’s worthless to you. That’s a fair deal I’d say.“ She held out her hand. Jeno hesitated. What will the others think when he comes back without his friendship ring? They probably won’t even notice. „Alright…“ he took off the ring and rolled it around for a bit in his hand. Then, with a guilty feeling, he placed it in the owner’s hand, immediately regretting his decision. „Thank you for your purchase, have a nice day and see you whenever!“ he heard the woman say with a smile, pocketing the ring quickly. Then the door behind him shut with a loud bang and he was staying outside, with a book he didn’t know he needed and without a ring he didn’t remember wearing.

#Lee Jeno #Jeno #NCT Jeno #NCT #NCT Dream #NCT fanfic #Jeno fanfic #NCT scenarios #NCT Dream scenarios #my writing

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adagiocomplex · 2 years

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Anais Agreste vs Paris - Chapter 1 "Anais vs Mr. Pigeon - Part 1"

Summary: Anais Agreste, Adrien's cousin, arrives in Paris to start at a new school. She tries to adapt to the crazy life of Paris with its villains and superheroes while watching the main characters' lives from an outsider perspective. Anais stays at the Agreste mansion and tries to get closer to her cousin.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36319645/chapters/90546115

Anais Agreste rapidly pops out of the car followed by Adrien, they're both excited for her first day at Collège Françoise Dupont and on their way to the entrance.

Adrien: School is so awesome, Anais, you're gonna love it! I'm gonna introduce you to my friends and then after we'll see Paris together and-

Anais: Easy there sunshine, you're more excited than me. But yeah, I'd love to meet Paris with you, now school, that's a whole other thing.

She looks away from him and continues climbing up the stairs until she gets to the door, unbeknownst to her, Adrien is no longer behind her.

Anais: I gotta give it to you, it's pretty cool in here. So where do we start? - She glances over where he was supposed to be only to find him nowhere. - Where'd he? Great, ditched in the first 2 minutes.

She looks across the court to try to find someone to talk to, someone to maybe befriend. Anais can't stand being alone, it had already been to long she had been standing there, in the middle of the way and no sign of Adrien (by too long, it'd be around a minute, but to her it felt like ages). Luckily, she was good at making friends, she had a lot of practice in walking into new places and having to meet new people, this was gonna be a cinch.

Time to choose a target then, who to start?, who to talk to? There isn't much knowledge on how this school works, Adrien had vanished before presenting his friends or explaining how the friend groups work in here, so maybe, she should start small, look for someone who's not talking to anyone so it's easy to engage on a conversation. And so she sees a platinum haired girl, sitting alone in a bench, reading a magazine, a rare sight in the middle of all this people talking to each other. Target locked.

Anais: Hey there!

Corinne: Oh hey. - Corinne briefly looks at Anais with a slight smile and goes back into reading her magazine.

Anais: I'm Anais, I'm new here. Would you care showing me where Ms. Bustier's class is? I'm sorry to bother, but my cousin who was gonna help me kinda disappeared and now I-

Corinne: No problem, I'm also in Ms. Bustier's class. - She says while still reading the magazine and only then puts it down. - I can take you there. - The smile comes back.

Anais: Oh great, that'd be great. - As thrilled and impatient as she is, Anais says it in the hope they'll get up immediatly and so stands there with a large smile that fades to an awkward one for some seconds of wait.

Corinne, still looking at the magazine: Let me just finish this one.

Anais: Oh, alright. - She sits next to her in silence for a not so brief moment.

They enter a slightly empty class. Juleka and Rose are in their seats, talking, Ivan and Mylene are together in the front. Corinne leads Anais to the back of the class where she sits next to Nathaniel, who was quietly drawing.

Corinne: Hey Nat. Nathaniel responds with a shy smile and goes back to his activity.

Anais: So, where do I sit? Are there any seats available?

Corinne: I think you can sit right behind us. The front rows are kinda full.

As more people start getting in, Ms. Bustier starts the class by introducing the new student. She calls Anais to the front of the room.

Ms. Bustier: Everyone, I would like to welcome Anais Agreste, your new classmate. She's moved to Paris and will start studying here with us.

When she says those words, everyone starts whispering to wach other. Agreste? Would that mean her and Adrien are related? Is not like he has ever mentioned anything about her. About that, where is Adrien? Or Marinette?

Anais: Thank you, Ms. Bustier. Hello, everyone, I'm glad to be here studying with you this year! - She says thrilled, with a large smile.

She goes back to her seat and passes by Chloe.

Chloe: I can't believe I'll have to stand studying with you now, Anais!

Anais: Me neither. - She says sarcastic with a tiny smirk, pats her on the head and carries on climbing the steps.

Chloe: Don't- Urh - She tries to "fix" her hair thinking Anais had ruined it somehow.

Adrien gets into class apologising for being late, followed by Marinette, who does the same thing, they both take their seats. Adrien looks back and waves at Anais with an embarrassed smile which she does not condone very much. Since he turned back Marinette inicially thinks he's turning to her and blushes, only to see that he was waving at this new girl she didn't know.

Corinne turns to Anais: Agreste? As in Adrien Agreste? Are you related or something?

Anais: He's my cousin, haha.

Corinne: What? And you didn't mention it? Wait, was he the one who left you this morning?

Anais: Yeah, and now he's late, what do you think happened? You know, you who studies with him and stuff.

Corinne: I wouldn't know, he always does this sort of thing, don't take it personally. I always thought it was because of family or modelling matters though, but since you don't know anything about it...

Anais: I just moved in, it's not like we're that close either, maybe it is what you're saying, I dunno.

Mr. Damocles knocks on the door and comes in.

Mr. Damocles: Sorry to interrupt Ms. Bustier, I have an announcement for the class. There will be a fashion design contest this week. You only have one day to work on your fashion piece and it must be your own design. In 10 hours, your finished presentation will be judged by none other then the great fashion designer, Gabriel Agreste, the father of our very own student, Adrien Agreste. In fact, Adrien will model the winning design in his next photoshoot! And now to announce this years theme: derby hats!

#miraculous #oc #original character #the adagio complex #miraculous ladybug #miraculous oc #mlb #miraculous fanfic #ladybug #mlb fanfic #mlb oc #ao3 #archive of our own #mlb ao3 #oc art #my oc

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closer-stars · 4 years

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Gut Feeling (3)

Member: San Genre: Comfort, Fluff, some Angst Word Count: 9.5k Requested: Yes Content: Part 3 of Gut Feeling/San x Manager!Reader series ayooo. Roughly around Inception/Immortal Songs time period. Food mention. References to some of the stuff they’ve written for the fans also are in this lol. Reader comforts San also in this. The fun kinda starts here. Note: pls this was tricky to write and edit... lmao, gotta juggle manager work with relationships amirite. Anyways, I hope this is okay cause this was... A Field Day. Not much else to say except hahaha Flashes a Peace Sign. I’ve proofread this a couple of times, and to just specify again, I’m trying to keep this gender neutral, so if there’s a slip up of gender specific traits and the like, please do tell me. Ty to @hwaberrykiwi , @yeocult and @yeochikin for dealing with my brain farts and questions as I wrote this. ilysm

Part 1, Part 2

It’s been hectic for everyone in the company. Everyone’s been almost up to their necks preparing for the comeback. Various deals to be made for various photoshoots; it was a miracle that some brands have invited the boys for their magazines rather than the other way around. Despite their lengthy hiatus, it seemed their popularity only continued to grow. It wasn’t a bad thing (at least they managed to catch up on rest), the pressure to make sure they make up for what was lost is there and perhaps an added burden.

Everyone’s been working harder to make sure their performances for their promotional period were good, if not better than how they did in the past. You haven’t been running on your usual hours of sleep-- save for a few power naps here and there, having to bring the boys back and forth from the company to stylists to the dorm to recordings and so on. You can only assume that it’ll get wilder once promotions do start. Yet, the gradual climb of their activities is met with mixed feelings: relief to be back on stage, worry for everyone’s health, pressure to meet not only the standards of the public but also theirs.

So now, San’s overthinking once more, getting caught up in his insecurities. The closer their comeback is, the later he stays. While he always does stay in the studio up until he can barely dance properly, the past few weeks have been harsh on him. You’ve only been with this group for a few months but you can already read him. He’s always been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. He’s also the type to find himself being his own competition. He’s focusing on his shortcomings as a dancer, frustrated that there were certain parts that he couldn’t do properly. You’re in the studio with him again. With the amount of times you’ve done this, you’ve eventually blocked off parts of your schedule for him. The rest of the boys have gone home at this point, catching up on rest to prepare for the next day.

You sit back, taking small sips of your iced green tea as you watch helplessly as San goes through the same counts, never quite getting it the way he wants to. “San..” you call softly.

“Just give me thirty minutes.” This is the sixth time he’s said it. He hears your heavy sigh and he looks at you, brows furrowed, still too engrossed by the demons in his head. “What?” He rasps out. It’s a miracle you could hear each other over the music but you do. With his question, you beckon him over. He sighs, stopping the music before standing in front of you. You pat the seat next to you. He doesn’t fight back and drops himself next to you. “What?” he repeats himself.

“You’re getting in your head again.”

Your words catch him off guard but he tries to scoff at it. A feeble attempt to brush off your words. Was he that easy to read?

“San, I’m serious. In the time I’ve worked with you, I know when you’re getting into your head.” You say it clearer this time. “Talk to me.” You say though it sounds more like a plea. He’s a stubborn one. You readjust yourself to face him, your drink now in between your legs as you reach for his water bottle. “Maybe not as your manager but as your friend.” You just wanted to help him, as much as his stamina is better than anyone you know, he’s still human.

San’s head rests against the white wall, the cold feeling of the wall cooling down how hot his head has become from constant exertion. He can still feel the muscle soreness from his workout from two days ago. “There’s so much on my mind.” He murmurs, gnawing slightly at the rim of his water bottle in thought.

“We got time.” You return softly.

He doesn’t know what to say. It’s not an everyday thing that he talks of his worries. He’s been the type to carry the burden of others but rare were the times he lets others carry his burdens. He lets your words sink in first as he tries to figure out with thought to speak out about first. He takes small sips to gather enough words to sound cohesive despite the incohesive thoughts. He sets his bottle down and that’s when he starts talking. He’s not happy with how he’s dancing lately. He sees how better Yunho is compared to him, how quick he gets the choreography. While San does know how to help others, asking for help for himself is another thing in itself.One way or another, he figures it out on his own. A blessing and a curse it was to be this independent. “...There’s so much I lack in, I don’t think I’ll live up to their expectations too.” His eyes are closed the entire time he speaks, not wanting you to see that he’s near tears. It’s one part pride, one part insecurity, one part pressure, and a whole lot of perfectionism. The fact he manages to talk about it is a step out of it but the struggle to get through it is another thing.

It pains you to see him like this. No matter how much he improves, he still sees where he lacks. It’s normal but to see him have his insecurities eat at him hurts you. “San, look at me.” You urge softly. He doesn’t move but you notice that his breathing has slowed down. You do know he’s still awake so you tilt his head to make him look at you. “Look at me, open your eyes, San.” It’s the gravity in your words and tone that makes him follow your order. He sees his reflection in your eyes and for a moment, he’s stunned. The distance, or lack thereof, is disorienting him. He’s never seen you this intense-- well he has, but not like this, this protective that he can’t get himself to move or look away. He could easily shake your hold off or look at a corner but he can’t.

Goddamn, what is going on?

“San, you’re amazing out there. Everyday, you improve. Everyday, you take everyone’s breath away with how much you put yourself into your performances. The performer I saw months back has improved to become the performer he is now. But San, you’re still a human at the end of the day. It’s okay to go at your own pace. ” Your words make his chest tight. Those were the same words he tells his members and his fans. He knows the turmoil of putting yourself up in a competition where you’re the only player yet he always does it even if it hurts him. But the feeling of having someone say it back to him, it feels different. It’s words he needed to hear not from him, but from someone else. To hear it from you washes over him in mind numbing comfort. “It doesn’t matter if Yunho gets it before you do, or if you don’t do it perfectly in the first try.” You continue, the pad of your thumb wiping away the tears that have fallen from his eyes. “What matters is you’re improving. San, you’re still human. It’s okay.” You’ve heard the stories of how they started as trainees over meals you’ve shared with them. From one trainee who couldn’t dance properly to being the idol that others look up to for their passion in dancing. He’s become the standard from what you were observing.

Your words make him rest his forehead against your shoulder. In other circumstances, you would’ve made a face at the feeling of sweat seeping onto your shirt. For now, you hold him, rubbing his back gently as he quietly cries out his frustrations. There were things he wished he could share these concerns with Seonghwa but he couldn’t. He never could. Yet, here he is, showing his vulnerability to you. Someone who he has only known for a few months. Someone who he has become vulnerable around. Even in his blubbering incoherent mess of thoughts, you somehow manage to be on the same page as him, bringing him back to reality, bringing him the clarity he needs.

It takes a while before his sniffles even into breathing. You tilt your head to check on him and he pulls away when he feels you shift. “I’m sorry.” he mumbles, wiping his tears away.

You shake your head, turning down his apology. Your eyes shine gently at him as you study him carefully. Damn, even your eyes feel a little hot. His shoulders aren’t as heavy as they were earlier. His hands reaching up to rub at his eyes. It wouldn’t be long now before exhaustion takes him under to slumber. “Let’s go home, you deserve the rest.”

“Can we get something to eat first…” He asks, just in time for his stomach to growl in agreement.

“7/11?”

He nods, his bottom lip jutting out slightly.

“Get some comfort food, I’ll pay for it this time.”

--------

The ride back is relaxed this time, well as relaxed it could be when San’s in a better mood. San sings at the top of his lungs to the songs that play on the radio. It’s tricky to keep yourself serious on the road when he’s being this carefree. It comes to the point where even you sing along with him, though softly. A small voice in your head sulks at how this is short lived. By the time you reach the apartment complex, it’s back to reality. It’s back to being their manager. Somehow you wondered if in another life, would the two of you meet as well? Would the two of you get along still? You shake the thoughts away quickly, mentally reminding yourself to focus.

“Something on your mind?”

You wonder if you’re just as easy to read as he is to you. “Mm?” You glance at the stop light then turn your gaze to him. The question takes a moment to register then you reassure him. “Ah, it’s nothing.” He doesn’t get the chance to press when the red shifts to green, pushing you to start driving again.

It was quiet for the rest of the trip, until you arrived at the parking lot again. Once you switch the engine off, he lets out a groan of relief. The sweet embrace of sleep is so close, if only he could just be in bed with a snap of his fingers but alas, this world is dependent on machinery. The two of you hop off the car and head to the elevator.

You press his floor number and he waits for the second button to be pushed but it never happens. The doors of the elevator close already and is already bringing the two of you to his floor. “Wait, but--”

You cut him off. “You need your sleep first so I’m dropping you off first.” You glance at him under the cold lighting of the elevator. “Even your eyes look tired already, Sannie.” He catches his reflection on the elevator’s reflective surface and you’re right. His eyes are puffy, his eyelids are heavy and he makes a face at how he looks. You glance at your watered down green tea then at his hands. “Are your hands cold?” You ask him.

The odd question catches him off guard and instead of feeling them, he wraps his hands on your cheeks. “What do you think?” The sharp contrast in temperatures causes you to yelp, swatting his hands away.

“I was gonna tell you to press your cold fingers to the puffy areas!” You complain, trying to stay far from his reach.

It takes a moment for realization to set in his eyes. “Oh my god, you called me Sannie!” He squeals, elated to know that your relationship has gotten to the point where you call him a nickname. A common nickname but he loves it coming from you. You laugh behind your cup and the fun is cut short with the doors opening.

You keep the doors open for him. “Come on, Sannie.” You repeat just for him. “Get your rest. Manager Bae will be bringing you guys to the company and your schedules tomorrow.” You inform him, still smiling at how happy he looks now.

“What about you?”

“Paperwork plus bringing the rest of the staff to check out the places for your music videos.” You coo at the sight of his pout. “I’ll bring you guys home if I get back early, I promise.”

“Ah before I forget..” you rummage through your bag and pull out his hoodie. “Here.” You state as you hand it back to him. The look on his face makes you a little defensive. “I promise, I washed your hoodie before returning it.” Your words make him chuckle and he puts it in his bag.

“I wasn’t saying anything, but thank you.” He teases but then extends his pinky out as he steps out, bringing it back to the topic at hand. His free arm blocking the doors from closing in on the two of you. You don’t bat an eyelash as the child-like reassurance, you link your pinky with his, sealed with your thumbs pressed against each other.

“Now shoo! Sleep well, Sannie.” You say, pressing your floor number this time, as the two of you smile at each other until the doors completely cover the other.

--------

Everything's moving so fast. For every music show that had to be cancelled, two more guest appearances take over. You were ready for the constant moving being a manager entails but not to this extent. After this performance, you had to bring them to their next radio appearance. At least there was an allowance time to bring them back to the company then to the radio appearance. You were a little relieved though, since the talk with San, he’s been able to perform with a clearer head. You watch each member perform and you need multiple runs to watch each and everyone of them. They always had little tricks in their sleeves that more often than not, you weren’t sure which ones they would do until the day of. While you know that they wouldn’t cry in the middle of a performance, a small part of you was alarmed at how believable they looked.

The results of their hard work were evident, various news sites have been tracking their growth, and before they knew it, they’ve sold over a million albums, their songs are charting upon release. They’ve improved immensely and it was getting tricky to not let yourself go “I told you so.” to San who months earlier was in his head, doubting everything. Hell you remember even having to talk to Hongjoong on the ride home over his fears for his members and himself.

The stylists had their phones out recording the announcement. As much as you want to do the same, you found yourself fiddling with your sleeves, nervous as well. They always take their loses gracefully as said by the managers but still you worry. As intense as they were with their work, they can be intense with their emotions too. Once it was announced that ATEEZ is indeed taking home the trophy for Inception, everyone screams. You let out the breath you were holding the entire time in relief, and you feel pride swell in your chest. Everyone celebrates in the dressing room over their first win. You could see how the group is doing their best to keep their cool in front of the cameras but you can already expect the amount of excited screams and jumps from them. Manager Bae and some of the stylists had gone out to quickly get them cake to celebrate when they return. “Stay here so that they won’t notice anything off.” Bae goes with a grin. He looked like a proud hyung for the boys, still giddy over the win. You quickly push him off to buy the cake, losing precious time.

You watch them on TV, singing to their song as they bounce about on stage. They’ve thanked everyone as they dance about. You see Manager Bae with another stylist lighting the cake in the back of the room and you sigh in relief. At least they got back in time for the credits to roll on the TV, evidently cutting short the encore stage. Yet, you know those boys would take a while before they’re back in the dressing room with everyone. “You got back fast..” You say softly, making sure the candle doesn’t get blown off from any external factors.

“We asked to have the cake packed already, Minhee paid for it and made me go ahead.”

“We have to pay her back then.”

“Hey don’t worry too much, she used the company card.” That shuts you up. ATEEZ’s excited yelling elicits a surprised yelp upon their entrance. They yell louder at the sight of the cake and this time you bring out your phone to capture the moment of celebration. It takes a while for them to settle down, taking selfies with their trophy along with a group shot to thank the fans for their hard work. The cake is back in its packaging, Seonghwa bouncing on the balls of his feet while he has the cake in his hands.

“Aah, Hyung be careful! What if the cake gets destroyed?” San complains lightheartedly to which Seonghwa sulks for a moment.

“What are you talking about?” The older returns, hints of his accent slipping out in his defense. “The cake’s secure inside, right Manager-nim?” He continues, looking at you to back him up.

The way he looks at you really makes you wonder how he was the eldest sometimes but you decide to play along. “It’s safe and sound in there, Ddeonghwa but still, be careful!” You return, patting the top of his head, or at least whatever you could reach as you busy yourself with packing everything up.

“Manager-nim! We did great on stage didn’t we?” San asks from behind you, wanting a head pat or some praise from you as well. To his luck, you had to be called to help out in carrying some make up bags out of the room as the stylist’s hands were already full. He deflates for a moment as you rush about, leaving him in the dust with his members.

“You’re getting obvious.” Seonghwa muses as he pats the younger’s head with his free hand.

His words fluster him, his bottom lip jutting out once more. “What are you talking about..” He mutters through a pout. He just wanted praise, is that so bad?

His defense makes the older chuckle. “Sure. Let’s get ready to leave, we still have a radio appearance tonight. Our managers are gonna wait for us by the parking lot.”

--------

As the promotion season progresses, you don’t keep track of the days anymore. You just keep track by the agenda for the day and for the following day, you’re just waiting for the promotions to end at this point. You’re getting sleep but it’s not enough, just to get by and still function. You’re still getting the basic necessities of a human being but you hate to admit that you need more to feel a little more awake.

San notices your lack of energy as they wait for their call time for their next TV appearance so while the other members busy themselves with a few games. He sees you dozing off again, leaning against the wall as you keep yourself warm with your own jacket this time. He doesn’t ask if you’re doing okay, your eyebags and tensed muscles tell him enough. He sits next to you as you try to find a comfortable position to catch up on rest. “You can lean on my shoulder.” He says softly, making sure to not startle you. Regardless of his volume, you sit up straight again at his voice. You don’t make a coherent word come out of your mouth except for something that sounds like a mix of “I’ll be okay” and “No thanks”. One way or another, you found a position comfortable enough for you to not get a stiff neck and stay warm. He lets you do what you do and instead lingers near you in case you fall into an uncomfortable position.

An hour passes and you wake up to your phone vibrating to wake you up. You shuffle about in your spot, stretching your limbs as you try to gain your bearings. The presence of another person next to you makes you wary of stretching too much, until you look over at them and you see San dozing off in his seat. You look around you and some of the members have dozed off as well, though the rest of them were in comfortable positions. You bundle your jacket up and carefully put it under his head. You pick up on his soft snores before slipping out of the room quietly. Your feet lead you to the nearest vending machine, looking for your pick me up throughout the day. As you count your loose change to pay for the coffee, someone’s voice startles the living daylights out of you.

“Coffee again?”

You turn to the voice and it’s San, who clearly looks like he just woke up but can’t rub his eyes. Instead, he takes his time blinking repeatedly to rid the sleep off from his gaze. “What? This isn’t the first time you’ve seen me drink coffee.”

“That’s going to be your fourth coffee..” He points out, and you can hear in his voice that he’s waking up now. He’s also a little concerned by your gradual rise in caffeine intake. His concern doesn’t faze you as you continue with your purchase.

“At least I don’t drink Americanos..” you say with a light tone. The last thing he needs to worry is about your health. You’ve been in worse situations and this isn’t that bad still. “San, I’m still okay, I promise.” You try to reassure him, though it seems that he doesn’t buy it. For now, he lets it be.

“At least I don’t confuse an americano with a latte.” He returns with a smirk He remembers your mishap a few weeks back of mixing up his americano with your latte. The face you pulled after getting hit with the bitterness, only to realize that he has your order. It was a small mistake but looking at it now, it was probably the start of your stress. His retort makes you look at him, miffed at the idea he would use that against you. He sees your reaction and is already ready to apologize until he hears you laugh. You turn on your heels and head back to your designated room and it takes him a few minutes to snap out of it and follow you. “I’m serious though. That’s your fourth coffee and you haven’t been sleeping a lot.” San points out softly, greeting any artist or staff that they pass by.

You greet them too, but your bottom lip is against the rim of your coffee in thought. “I’m still getting used to the new environment. You have to admit the cancellation of other shows and the additional guestings are disorienting too.”

You had a point but that wasn’t what he was getting at. “Manager-nim, what I’m saying is, please take care of yourself too.” The two of you reach the door and before any of you step in, you look up at the male, and he can see how your brain is working.

“I will, now let’s get inside, they might worry where you’ve been.” You say eventually and before you could open the door, he beats you to it and lets you enter first.

He hopes you keep your word.

--------

On the free days they had, they were back in the studio rehearsing for another performance. They already knew of the offer and without hesitation accepted it. Win or lose, this was a big thing for them. While you managed their schedules with the other managers, you also had to juggle keeping track of the logistics of their stage design. The idea they have is an ambitious one you had to admit, rare do you see idol groups going this far but they did carry the philosophy of performing as if this stage will be their last.

A small issue comes up in their stage planning, the dresser already got the green light but they worry about the prop to drive in the theme. The various lipstick shades offered to them didn’t quite stand out to them, hell even the make up artists were a little torn on which one would be best. “Just mix two shades or textures.” You suggest. While you had a fair knowledge of make up, it’s not up to par with those who have this as their profession. The suggestion you had given had already taken into account the dark and harsh lighting they’d pull for the stage. While you carry your laptop everywhere you go, you also have some copies of your paperwork in your phone-- just to save your back and shoulders from unnecessary pain. Would glossy finish work to bring it out? Shit, which red shades would even be a stark difference against San’s skin. “Technically this would also mean San has one shot in doing this.” Your head was swimming with thoughts and you rub your eyes as the exhaustion still hangs over you. You wanted the best for the boys in any situation. Him and Jongho were going to carry the atmosphere and they had to make it work. You stare at the shades of red that marked the back of San’s hand. You had to admit, it reminded you of your hand whenever you went out with the makeup artists.

The make up artists suddenly perk up at the suggestion, an idea quickly forming in their head, they grab San’s hand to look for the two shades that were the closest to what they had brainstormed. Once they found it, they made a note of which shades and decided to try and hunt for it. San looks at you, thoroughly thankful for your suggestion as it had solved their last issue. “As expected from Manager-nim’s brain.” Hongjoong praises and you flash a small smile. You take note of the final list of everything from their outfits to the lighting and props. You have to send this list by tonight and you only have three hours before the deadline. Talk about clutch.

As they rush about you, you settle yourself on the bench, typing away furiously at your near dying laptop. Maybe you only had thirty minutes before the deadline at this rate. You read the details outloud to everyone, making sure you didn’t leave anything out. Fifteen minutes after small edits. Once satisfied, you send the files to the producers and close your laptop, relieved to have one thing crossed off your list. Manager Bae senses your exhaustion and eyes the boys. “I’m driving tonight anyways, go and eat your dinner already and catch up on sleep until we need to bring them home.”

You don’t go against his words this time and keep your laptop in your bag. “Watch over my stuff, I’ll grab something at the 7/11 downstairs. Want anything?” He shakes his head and you don't push your offer as he returns his focus on the boys. You only bring your wallet and your phone. Your earphones are drowning out how your brain begs for rest. Once in the store, you pick the first thing your stomach can tolerate from the lack of rest and for once you skip on the coffee and opt to grab the orange juice. A small attempt at staying healthy.

You’re back in the company, eating your sandwich as carefully as possible and even through your earphones you can hear them rehearsing. The clock tells you it’s somewhere past midnight, you don’t know where the arm is, you just know it’s past twelve and you’re beyond exhausted. Once you finished with your sandwich you head back to the studio, the boys just a few counts away from the ending. Carefully, you slide your way to the bench with Manager Bae watching over them. “Did I miss anything?” You ask as you twist open your orange juice.

He shakes his head. “They’re wrapping up in an hour and a half.” That makes you settle in your seat, taking small sips of your juice. The way it makes you feel a little lighter is concerning but you push forward. As long as you have your sense of taste, you’re fine. As they finish up for the night, you’re already zoning out, your fingers dragging themselves against the edges of the bottle to keep yourself awake.

You snap out of it every now and then. When you do, your eyes go to Jongho and Seonghwa, the two members who had just recovered from their injuries. They storm through the long rehearsal, they’re also the last ones standing as they walk around after the intensive run. The others already on the floor breathing heavily. Manager Bae snaps you out of your thoughts when the choreographers start packing up. Time to end the day.

You pull up some of the members who seem to have become one with the floor. Sometimes having to use both hands from how they’re dragging their own weight down. “Boys, we’re going home. Come on.” You grunt amidst their whines of a few minutes to rest. San gets up without your help but helps you pick up the other members. You count the members, looking for the missing two. You glance over and you see Seonghwa has busied himself making sure Hongjoong goes home tonight. Once satisfied, you hoist your bag over your shoulder, stretching your tired body. “That’s all eight.”

San looks over at you, your eyes looking a lot heavier than usual. “Are you free tomorrow?” He asks, pulling off his beanie to ruffle his hair.

His question confuses you, how sudden it is to ask someone about their schedule for the following day, especially if their schedule technically revolves around them. “Yes, why? Do you need me to bring you somewhere?” You ask, as you wait for everyone to leave the studio.

“Sleep in.” He says and that’s the only time you stared at him. The incredulous look on your face makes him sigh. “Hey, Manager-hyung. Does Manager-nim have a day off soon?” San asks Manager Bae and you shift your gaze to the mentioned man.

The man looks at San with a raised eyebrow. “Yes because otherwise that would be concerning.” Just as San was about to say something to add to that, you cut him off.

“San, do not.” You actually don’t know what he was about to say exactly but you were not going to let him tell you when to rest. “I already made my day offs on the days after your promotion cycle, and I’m not changing that. I’ll just come to work a little later tomorrow.” It’s a compromise to ease his protective instincts kicking out. You sense that Seonghwa has been waiting for the two of you, not wanting to leave you behind. “Come on, Seonghwa’s already waiting for us.” With that, you make your way to him, already starting small talk with him and Hongjoong.

San trails behind you, watching you chat with his hyungs without a worry, as if your head wasn’t spinning a few moments ago. He wonders if you’ve caught feelings for one of his hyungs. You did spend more time with them for various reasons. Was it Hongjoong or was it Seonghwa? Deep in his thoughts, he lingers around Yunho as everyone heads towards the car, trying his best to not always look at you. Even if he doesn’t, thoughts run in his head, thinking back to times you’ve interacted with Seonghwa or Hongjoong. In his head, it seemed that you and Seonghwa were more believable than you and Hongjoong. You’ve shared a few moments with Seonghwa in the past. Unknowingly, his brows scrunch up at how his thoughts have led him to such a conclusion but he keeps it to himself. The chatter in the car has mellowed down to tired sighs and soft hums: sounds not enough to drown or push away the thoughts that tangle themselves in his head. So he turns up the volume in his earphones, anything to distract himself from the thoughts. The songs that play are their latest songs and the final version of their remake. While he can’t dance in the car, he closes his eyes and visualises how he wants to do the stage. It doesn’t take much time before he falls asleep on the way home.

The murmurs and sighs eventually became even breathing and soft snoring from the boys. You and Manager Bae softly discussing the next schedules and shifts. “Is it alright if I come in a little late tomorrow? I just really need to catch up on rest.” You tread carefully with the question. Promotions have already on their way and you’re already asking for a small break.

“It’s fine. I can cover for you until you arrive.” He reassures. “What time do you plan to come in?”

Your phone unlocks under your touch and you look at the calendar. “1 PM. I’ve done all the paperwork and logistical work for their Immortal Songs appearance and other radio appearances. I’m just waiting on the replies from the producers to relay to externals.” Somehow you manage to finish the last of your orange juice. Looks like you’re grabbing hot tea instead of your usual iced coffee tomorrow.

The man next to you nods at your word. “You’ve been working hard lately too, it’s okay to rest every now and then.” He says with a laugh. “No wonder you and the boys get along.” The road in front of you is near empty, just a few taxis carrying businessmen tired from a long day of work and drinks. “But honestly, don’t stretch yourself too thin. If there’s anything you can’t do, Manager Yoon or I can help you.”

The words touch you for a moment that you tip your head in thanks. “Yes, I’ll try my best.” Despite your sluggish feeling, you stay awake on the way home.

--------

You arrive at the apartment complex with Manager Bae and you waking up the boys who have fallen asleep. They only had to be told that they’re at the apartment already to wake up and make their way to the elevator. San was the last to wake up-- as expected, and you were the last one with him, as usual. “Sannie, wake up. We’re home.” You say softly as you shake him awake. He doesn’t reply. “San, wake up. I can’t carry you.” Again, silence. You sigh and look through your contacts, about to call Yunho to help you wake him up. “San, if you don’t wake up I’m leaving you in this parking lot to sleep.” His eyes open at that threat. “San, I swear…” you trail off with a sigh, somehow you can’t get mad at his antics. He slides out of the car and with that you lock the car up, making sure everything else is secure.

This time he brings you to your apartment first. He didn’t take a no for an answer, typical of him. The two of you quietly let the elevator bring you up to your designated floor. On the usual, you and San would be talking about the day or whatever was in his mind. This time, it was quiet. You stand next to him, and you lean your head against his shoulder, a long exhale of relief slipping through your lips. “You’ve worked hard, you know?” You say softly, his eyes on the display as the number goes up. “You’ve done a lot too, Strawberry.” The nickname came because of how your phone case had strawberry prints all over it. Along with your excitement for anything strawberry flavored.

No wonder you and Seonghwa got along so well.

You smile at his words. “Thank you. You did amazing today too.” You return softly. Your words make him smile as well. He wishes the trip to your floor was slower, just to make the most out of moments like this.

He kind of hopes that you don’t feel how hard his heart is pounding now.

The elevator rings cutting the moment short and you stand up straight again. He doesn’t stay in the elevator this time. He opts to walk with you to your apartment. You look at him, a quiet question at him walking you to your apartment but he gives you no answer. Despite that, you aren’t scared. “Sannie, if you’re worried that I won’t rest, I will.” You start. “I’m coming to work at 1PM so it’s Manager Bae or Yoon bringing you guys to the company tomorrow.” You hand the car keys to him to give to either manager tomorrow.

A sigh of relief comes out of him at your words. Without the cameras, he mellows down. “That’s good. I’ll see you later in the day then.” He says as he makes his way back to the elevator as you take a step into your safety.

“Also, San?”

He stops in his tracks and looks at you, waiting for you to continue.

“Thank you for taking care of me too. Please take care of yourself too.” You don’t think that he’s been a factor to you being able to keep yourself together. It’s part of your job to keep your shit together even in high amounts of stress but his concern for you warms you greatly. He's become a part of why you managed to keep yourself together for this long too.

He smiles at your words and hopes you sleep peacefully for the night. It’s been a long day for everyone. The last thing you see is his warm smile and back before you let yourself retreat into the comforting safety of your home. You figured that seeing his smile to end the day wasn’t so bad.

--------

Everyone’s nervous for the stage, even you, but you can’t show your nerves. There’s enough nerves going about in this room for the ten of you. Their stylists are the first to arrive at their room, and everything goes on like clockwork. This time it was you and Manager Yoon who took over this shift. The previous days of rehearsal were really just to make sure the clothes fit them right along with the props. Everything they've prepared for has led to this day. As much as they are hungry for the win, the mere idea of them being in the same room and performing on the same stage as big names was incredibly humbling and overwhelming for them.

The director gives them a run through of the schedule for the night which could stretch over to past midnight. In your bag were a few copies of their albums that they would give to the seniors and fellow idols, and you wondered how fans could carry so many albums when the albums in your bag was already your workout for the day. Seonghwa shuffles over to you after the director lets them get ready for the recording.

“Let me take these from you.” He says softly as the rest of you enter the room.

“Seonghwa!” He manages to get your bag off your hands and sets it down within your reach.

“Even I know they’re too heavy to carry for prolonged periods of time.” The male quips and you can’t help but sigh a little at his thoughtful actions. Glad to see that even without cameras, they’re still the same kind hearted boys.

You wave him off, handing his clothes to get ready for the long night ahead of them. “Now go change and get ready, you got a stage to tear down.” You watch him walk off to get changed and you catch San looking at your direction, as if too deep in thought. It takes awhile for you to snap him out of his thoughts. “Are you okay?” You ask once he gets back to reality.

He blinks for a few moments, a little startled by the sudden lack of distance. “H-huh? Yeah.” The answer stumbling out of his mouth. He’s not gonna admit that he saw you and Seonghwa talk the entire time. The shaky answer musters a small smile from you. You hand him his clothes, gently pushing him to the dressing room. “Come on, go get ready. Show everyone what you guys got.” You hope he doesn’t catch the soft meow you let out as a joke to lift his spirits. Yet he does, take it from someone who’s a complete cat person to catch anything cat related. Once the meow lands on his ears, he smiles so brightly.

“Ah! So cute!!” He squeals softly, his dimples making an appearance but he listens to you nonetheless. Even when his thoughts are in such a disarray, your words don’t fail to bring him peace even for a while. He can’t get himself to be bitter if someone else makes you happier than him. As long as you’re happy, shouldn’t that be enough? But he's greedy, he wants you to be happy because of him too. He’s also aware of how selfish that sounds and he's disgusted by how self centered he can be.

Once he leaves you alone with the rest of the staff, you bring out the albums, arranging them for when they visit the rest of the artists later on. One by one the members come out of the dressing room, fully dressed for their stage. One third of the magic is done, you were looking forward to how they’d look minutes before being called on stage. Now you can’t be in that part of the stage, only seeing the cuts through the monitor in the room. Once that was all finished, they’re ushered to the room where the magic begins. You and Manager Yoon give them supportive words as they leave the room.

The recording goes by without a hitch but god was it long. You and Manager Yoon often went out to grab food or drinks for the staff in the same room as them to stay awake, even for the boys during the long breaks in between shoots. You didn't want to admit it out loud but you wish the shoot goes by quickly, but that was wishful thinking. There’s so much to record that goes on in this show and you know the boys can’t and wouldn’t complain. Being in a room with the legends, as San would say, is already an honor in itself. Performing in front of all of them? Another honor. You can only assume that the boys are going through so much emotions that they have to keep in control in front of the cameras.

Everyone’s given a two hour break to eat dinner and freshen themselves up in time for the second half of the shoot. It doesn’t take the boys ten minutes to barge into the dressing room, still energized, if not more. The management was able to bring the entire room their dinner with some refreshments. As if they weren’t already loud, the sight of their meals made their voices boom through the room.

It’s clear in Seonghwa’s eyes that he has to keep in mind his portions. While you respect his decisions, he sees how you look at him. He reassures with a look as well, knowing how concerned you get with how strict he can be with himself. The eldest member settles himself near you once he grabs his share of the meal. It’s because of him that the other members were sitting around you too, all of them telling stories of how the recording went and the antics they did.

You stare at Yunho incredulously upon hearing that he made his ears turn red in less than five seconds. All he could do is hide his stuffed smile behind his hand, trying to shift the attention to the fact that San did another impersonation for national TV.

“So I guess that he also did some taekwondo too?”

“You know me too well.”

“It would be concerning if I didn’t, San.”

The back and forth causes laughter to bubble from the small group. When they realize they only had half an hour left, they quickly finished what’s left of their meals and got their makeup retouched before rushing out. “Watch our stage! We’re performing soon!” Hongjoong asks the room as a staff member picks them up and ushers them back to the venue.

The second half of the recording goes smoothly, and with how the MC was describing the next everyone knew it would be ATEEZ next. True enough, it was them and they’re ushered backstage, everyone’s glued to the monitor now.

You weren’t able to see the dry run of this stage, too busy dealing with other brand deals and work that comes with being a manager. This means that this performance is going to be your first time watching it. The nerves were setting in now as your bottom lip is caught in between your teeth in thought.

The stage starts and you have to commend Jongho and San for the haunting beginning that sets the tone for the entire performance. You weren’t sure as to why you were so nervous and worried for this stage when they managed to do everything they wanted for the stage and more. Even you felt out of breath by the end of the stage, but nonetheless you feel nothing but pride and relief for a smooth performance. Somehow even you keep note of the praises they receive for the stages, knowing that somewhere down the line they’d need this for future performances. They win the favor of the audience and for the rest of the show, they stay backstage. Without the cameras on them, you can only wonder what they’re up to.

“You think they’re catching some sleep?” Yoon jokes to you as he keeps his eyes fixed on the screen. His words make you snort.

“Pretty sure they won’t be able to catch some shut eye at this rate, they won against the previous artist, that’s enough adrenaline to keep them up until they get brought back to where everyone else is.” You speak a little too soon. The boys win once more and there’s only one last artist left to perform and everyone in the dressing room is stunned by the progression. The stylists knew that ATEEZ had a charm but none of them expected their charm to be this strong.

The last artist performs and everyone’s at the edge of their seat for the final round wondering if the boys would make it. The lights flash back and forth and once it stays on ATEEZ, the entire room erupts in glee. You lose feeling in your legs at the results, too stunned to say anything. The boys on screen are in disarray with their emotions: Seonghwa and Yunho are breaking into tears, Mingi and Jongho practically jump off camera, Hongjoong, Yeosang and Wooyoung are too stunned to move, even San had to crouch down from the mere shock and happiness of everything. The rest of the recording goes by quickly and the boys are finally back in the room, a mix of hyper energy and quiet content. You and Yoon quickly take videos of their thoughts about winning for their log videos: you with the older four, him with the younger four. The quicker everyone finishes the needed work, the quicker everyone can go home.

Once San has changed out of his stage clothes, he makes his way towards you even if Seonghwa drapes himself over you just for the sake of some shut eye. At least your bag’s a lot lighter now, otherwise you’d have to deal with a grown man draping himself over you like a dozing cat and albums. “Manager-nim! What do you think of our stage?” San asks, trying not to sulk at the fact your attention wasn’t completely on him.

“San! You did amazing out there. You kinda looked scary out there too.” You praise him, even while readjusting Seonghwa’s position on you; at least he wasn’t putting his entire weight on you.

San notices your attempt to carry the conversation even with his hyung being a baby. As expected, he tickles Seonghwa to get him off your back, literally. This results in a match of flailing hands from both boys. Maybe performing Black Cat was a perfect fit for these boys. You let them flail about for a few moments until everyone is accounted for. “Come on, time to head home for your cat naps.” You joke as you head to the car.

It was a good thing that you and Manager Yoon brought two cars for this schedule. For sure some of the boys would sleep by the time their back hits the backrest of the seat, while some would still be buzzing with energy. You end up with the boys that would knock out by the time they get in the car. San called dibs on the passenger’s seat, while the rest sat at the back without complain. The ride home is a quiet one, San trying his best to stay awake to keep you awake as well.

“San, it’s okay. Just get your sleep, I’ll wake all of you up when we get there.” You reassure him when his words start to slur and his head starts to bob to one side.

“But..” He fails to finish his words as a yawn slowly erupts from him. Yeosang, Mingi and Hongjoong were at the back, too tired to even talk, you can only assume that they’re slouched over on their seat, already asleep.

“San, it’s okay.” You repeat, as you drive carefully through a corner. “Sleep.” You say, almost as if it was an order. Moments pass with no response and you think he finally has fallen asleep. The rest of the drive is just your quiet breathing and the soft snores from who you can only assume is either Hongjoong or Mingi.

What you don’t know is that San’s still awake, only his eyes were closed the entire time. His thoughts running wild, usually you didn’t let them be overly affectionate with you during work hours, yet you willingly let Seonghwa be on your back even with the possibly prying eyes. He’s certain that you don’t return his feelings at this point. He was sure some of the members already know of his feelings, hell Seonghwa teased him about it a few days ago. Illogical questions pop into his head; if Seonghwa knew of his feelings, why would he be like such towards you? He didn’t want to think so poorly of his own hyung. It was a war in his head, two different sides making possible points that were easily debunked by the other side. If he doesn’t do something about this, it would just be a disaster. He needed to find a way about it.

In his tormented thoughts, he somehow managed to drift off into a state of in between conscious and unconscious up until he reached home. The three boys have gone up with the rest of the members, and it was only you and him left.

“W-where..” he mutters, pushing himself up his seat, looking around with sleep weighing his eyes down. Maybe sleeping in that position wasn’t a good idea. When he realizes where he is, the thoughts rush back to him.

Your voice was gentler this time, “We’re home, sleepyhead,” gently shaking his leg to wake him up a little bit more. I’m bringing you to your dorm first.” You don’t take his whines to change your mind. He’s more tired than you are, hell he didn’t even remove his makeup on the way home. It takes a few minutes for you to lock the car up and make sure everything’s in place, when you turn around you still see him lingering about, hands rubbing his eyes. “I thought you’d go ahead.” You note, as you walk with him to the elevator. You wait for the elevator to arrive while making sure he doesn’t topple over.

At least it’s Monday tomorrow. There’s no shows to rush to, no guestings either, it was just a day for them to recover after the hectic filming. You didn’t want to admit it but this routine is something you’ve come to love. As much as you love it though, you do worry for him especially now where he seems like he could just crumple over from the exhaustion.

This time though, you don’t let San carry your bag on the way up. He’s tired enough as it is. He was practically sleeping while standing up. “You didn’t have to wait for me, you know?” You murmur as you wait for the elevator to arrive.

“Wanted to.” he says under his breath. His eyes were heavy but the way he manages to still smile is a miracle. “... like being with you.” he continues softly. He rubs his eye with the palm of his hand, trying to push the sleepiness away. It can only help so much.

“San, we have so many other chances. It won’t be long either until they lower the levels for the social distancing and health measures.” You reason gently. Truth be told, you’re scared he’d collapse from exhaustion here. Though you were strong, you’re unsure of your capabilities to lift a grown man along with two bags. “Come on, the elevator’s here.” You make sure the doors don’t close in on the two of you this time, instead of him doing it for you.

You press his floor number first this time.

He hums again, or says something that fails to make sense to you. “What?” You ask as you wait for the elevator to move.

“I said, it’s hard to not like being with you.” He says, voice a little clearer now as he pushes himself up against the metal wall. “You’ve been doing your work to manage us and be a friend to us, even going beyond that. You’re really amazing.”

A part of you wonders if he drank without you knowing in the car ride home but you let him continue.

“Really jealous too. You’ve got your eye on someone no?” He asks, his smile carries something you never saw from him.

“What?” That wakes you up.

“Wish it was me instead, the one who has your heart y’kno?” He mumbles.

“Choi San, did you drink alcohol without me knowing on the way back here?” You ask, clearly alarmed by the words falling from his mouth. Adrenaline slowly waking you up as you start to scan him for anything weird.

He looks at you and you see exhaustion has colored his features. Even with that, you see that he’s not inebriated from any substance. “N’t call me that..” He mutters.

“But that’s your name.” You reach for his bottle, trying to see if he did drink without your permission. “San, I swear, if you drank without me knowing, I won’t tell the company _but_ you are in trouble to me.”

He pulls his bag away from your reach. As if that helps prove his innocence. “I’m serious.” He says, clearer this time. You wonder if the lift towards his floor was always this long, you look at him and he doesn't look as exhausted as he was earlier. He sees how you look at him with hesitance and disbelief so he takes the leap. “I really like you and I wish it was me instead that had your heart.”

You weren’t sure if the lightheaded feeling was from how high you were from the ground or from his confession. Just as you were about to say something, the doors open to his floor and you’re greeted by Yunho on the other side. The two of you face away from each other in a feeble attempt to sweep everything under the rug. “Yunho, I thought you would be asleep by now.” You say, genuinely surprised to see the tall man.

“Seonghwa Hyung got worried over San not being in the dorm yet so here I am.” He reaches out just before the doors close again. San steps out of the lift and waves at you, not wanting to look at you.

“Sleep well guys.” You bid them goodbye and somehow something inside you hopes that him not looking at you was because of the need to rest and not because of what had happened minutes before. The last thing you see before the doors close in between you is his back and his heavy shoulders.

Part 4

#my writings #san fluff #san angst #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez fanfiction #ateez angst #ateez writings #ateez series #san x reader #ateez x reader #uhhh idk what else to tag this as so yea #watch me play wild rift until i reach level 15 now JOKE

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