#although I haven’t been getting my hopes up since he really only ever does backstage bits when he’s on collision tapings

[cowboyshit]

since I’m going to the rampage/collision show next friday the day before full gear I hope hangman has even just a run in or something to be ringside. I still have never been able to see him live and would love to have that experience finally 🥺

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 25

In my defence I didn’t forget about updating here, I just didn’t want to.

First < Previous

---------------

“How do I look?” Marion asks as people fuss around him, not least of all Marinette herself.

“I hoped that would be obvious seeing as I designed this look,” She smirks at him eyes sparkling he can tell since the whites of the Domino mask are removed.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the greatest and all that,” He waves her off as a stylist tries to tame his hair to fit the messy look she wanted.

“Well it is true isn’t it?” She teases, someone also trying to follow her with a brush and comb as she flies around the room in a whirl of designing.

"Perhaps," Marion hums, gaze drifting over to the door where he notices a familiar figure, Marinette follows his smile.

“Luka!” Marinette exclaims, wrapping her friend in a hug, “When did you arrive?”

“Last night," Luka smiles, she was glad she got the chance to become his friend again as MDC, not that he knew their secret identity, "This city is so majestic,”

“Gotham at night?” Marion scoffs, turning in his seat, only to get scolded by the stylist, “Are we talking about the same place?”

“CD maybe you just haven't taken the time to really hear the city’s song,” Luka strums a few cords to demonstrate, “You should its melody compliments your own,”

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Marion shrugs, sitting forward again, “Do you think you can use it to reach out to the Gotham audience? I really want to connect with them,”

“Will do boss,” Marion sticks his tongue at him, Luka only ever called him that in jest.

Luka gives a playful wave leaving to go sort out the music. He had his own responsibilities as the opening act. Marinette feels someone watching them and dismisses the stylist, congratulating her on a great job. She looks a tad peeved as Marion's hair is largely the same as when she entered, but many employees are used to the twins randomly leaving anyway. The door to their dressing room clicks closed and the presence makes itself known.

“What can we do for you, Batman?” Marinette asks, offering him a seat, although she knows he won’t accept it.

“MDC,” he inclines his head, not showing if he was taken aback by her catching him out, “We have reason to believe the concert will be attacked tonight,”

“Yeah, we thought that might happen,” Marion gets up, stretching, “Just try to keep whoever away from the crowd and we can handle the rest,”

“You don’t seem to understand, after the last attack-”

“Sorry to cut you off,” Wow it was weird acing professional around the same guy they had been tormenting the past few weeks, “But that was an impromptu event this one has been planned out for years,"

Officially not but they had designed the building to help them catch akuma in Paris while keeping an event going, they just applied that design to Gotham.

"If you would like to call in the rest of your coworkers we can show you the defenses we have in place so you can work with them,”

Batman seems surprised. What did he think they were just air-headed celebrities? Well, that wasn’t going to be the only surprise of the day then. Sure enough, he calls everyone in and Marinette’s a little hurt to see he invited everyone but Sparrow and Songbird to join in the fun. She hides this fact leading the ragtag group through the backstage area. Spotting their manager she walks over.

“Could you please clear our schedule we want to give them a personal tour of our security measures,” She asks Kate, to her credit only looking mildly surprised to see the whole Batfam trailing after them.

“I thought you might, I’ve already worked it into your schedule, just make sure you're there in time for the costume checks,” Kate looks down tapping away at her tablet, “Also call your uncle arrived in town last night he’ll want to wish you good luck so watch out for him,”

“We couldn’t do it without you,” Marinette beams, letting her go to attend her other duties.

They must make an odd sight, two superstars guiding a pack of vigilantes like ducklings through the backstage. They go over all the security protocols. Safe rooms that the staff was instructed to go to under certain circumstances. There were carefully lain traps that only a few people could trigger to set off. On the stage itself was a secret compartment Marion could make a quick getaway to get change in, a tunnel leading backstage. The entire backstage was a maze in itself all the staff specially trained to navigate it.

To protect the audience they hadn't packed it nearly as much as they could have so it meant it easier for them to reach the exits. Indeed there were hidden emergency exits that people could escape through if villains blocked the obvious ones, they were set to reveal themselves if that was the case. There were also hidden trapdoors in rows of seats that would glow if people were forced to duck behind the seats. It leads to underground tunnels that would lead them safely away. There were even tunnels connecting to the staff safe rooms so they could come and direct the audience as needed. Marinette had made sure to make the tunnels look inviting ad pleasant so no one would panic at being underground.

Then there were the special (comfy) perches that they showed to the Batfamily, each situated to look over everything and be hidden by the lights. There were wires leading to the stage and audience in case they needed to get down quickly and quietly. They also made a web above that they could run along and run any interference with ariel attacks. They also gave them each a blueprint of the stadium so they could see all the secret tunnels that were perfect for a surprise attack. There were ones leading into the entrance subtle enough someone could be pulled in while walking into the building, for the purposes of catching criminals before they even entered. There was also a trap door that could open underneath, she gave them each a remote control to these, warning them to use them wisely. Each hidden door leads to a room suited for fighting, carefully crafted to give the bats and edge.

It had taken a long time and a lot of money but they had invested, making a safe place they could rent out to other performers so there could be more shows in Gotham conducted safely. She could tell that by the end of the tour even Batman was impressed as they headed back to the stage through the empty audience seating.

“Hey! Superstars!” Jagged's voice booms across the arena, waving from the entrance of the place.

“Uncle Jagged!” Marion jumps over seats to reach him, Marinette a step behind him as they both tackle him into a hug.

“Good to see you too,” Jagged ruffles their hair, Marinette sends a silent apology to the stylist, “This place looks Rockin!”

“You bet just wait till I take the stage,” Marion grins, as they both hug Penny and Fang as well.

“Why wait! Show me what you got,” Jagged sends Marion off, who runs to the technicians asking if they can do an early mic check, everyone scrambles to make it happen.

“So how’re you finding Gotham?” Jagged asks her, walking with a side hug back towards the Batfamily.

“Oh, you know… busy,”

“I’d say the news with Marion? That was wicked!”

“Yes… wicked,” Penny pales at just the memory, and yeah fair enough.

“Yo Batman great to meet you!” Jagged boisterous nature meets Batman’s stoic one but the poor guy barely has a chance to adjust before Jagged’s moving on.

“Yo Red Hood right?” Hood looks a little shocked as Jagged claps a hand on his shoulder, “You saved my nephew, I really owe you one!”

“Oh-that's not- I just,” Marinette shares a smirk with Jagged which would have surely had Marion screaming.

“Yeah, he really looks up to you!” Jagged has him spluttering more, she would show him mercy but they only have so much time before Marion catches on.

“Oh Uncle Jagged I wouldn’t phrase it like that,” Marinette says in a suggestive tone, the stage is still empty of Marion.

“Of course, no I’d say it more that...” Marinette could actually laugh as Red Hood practically vibrates from anticipation, “He likes you,”

I think we just killed  him, Marinette notes as Red Hood internally combusts. Well now wasn't the time to show mercy.

“I’d say that's putting it rather lightly,” Marinette smirks as Red Hood is sent into another spluttering mess, and oh how she wishes he wasn't wearing that helmet.

“Right it’s more like-”

“Stop it both of you,” Penny’s reprimand has them both doubling over with laughter. The Batfamily looking absolutely bewildered. Minus of course, Red Hood who they may have to call an ambulance for soon if he doesn't start breathing.

“What are you two laughing at?” Marion walks to the edge of the stage, someone fusses with a microphone not too far away.

“Nooothhinggggg,” They chime simultaneously, with matching grins.

“Penny?” Marion all but whines, fidgeting nervously.

“They haven’t said anything bad,” She assures him, Marion foolishly relaxes.

“Hey is this the guy that saved your hide?” Jagged asks, having the guts to swing his arm around Red Hood’s shoulders.

“Uncle Jagged,” He hisses at the same time Penny hisses ‘Jagged’.

“You should thank him... sing endless!” Jagged exclaims, and Marinette couldn’t be sure he hasn't been planning this from the start, “You wrote it for him didn’t you?”

“Not for him its not-” Marion makes a bunch of vague gestures, “You know?”

“Not at all,” Jagged grins, dragging Red Hood closer to center stage seats, he plops down Red Hood right in the middle of the stadium. The rest of the Batfam take seats around them. “Sing Endless!”

Marion is scowling but doesn't have much other choice as a stagehand tell him he’s all set. He takes the microphone. Marinette mimes at him to breathe, he rolls his eyes but does anyway. The music starts Marion hitting his cue and with just the first few words she could see the tension drain away.

“And the world starts slowly caving it~”

It was such a gentle song. So many people had told him and still told him that it didn’t fit the violent vigilante. The producers had argued they should just fit it to someone else, someone people liked more. In the end, they had caved to Marion's arguments probably because it wasn't made to be an upbeat pop song so they weren't too attached to the money making aspect. That didn't stop the audience from arguing about it afterwards. Some claimed they just randomly selected the song, or that they shouldn't have done one for him at all.

Marion pointedly told them they were all wrong. And looking at Red Hood now, completely enthralled with Marion's singing she could tell that, yeah it had fit him perfectly all along.

"All the words you said were they true? or just selfish li-es~"

Marinette broke her gaze away from Marion to look at the rest of the Batfamily. Suffice to say they were all enthralled, hopefully they wouldn't be this distracted at the concert tonight. Although she supposed it was a good thing they were doing the mic check now so they could watch now and focus later. Then again she doubted Red Hood would be much use regardless, he was leaning forward in his seat the rest of the world dead to him. To fair Marion wasn't much better. In a crowd he would look around or at least pick a random stop to sing to no one. This time however? this time he was locked on to Red Hood sinign directly to him and he probably didn't even realise.

"Gave all I ever had try to make you laugh try to please you~"

Batman looked uncomfortable at the line. Judjing by the times she had seen them spend together there was a tension between them a past she didn't know. How Marion managed to pick up on that long before they came to Gotham she doesn't know. It was almost like he could see into his soul, a connection there despite never having met, like the pull of a miraculous.

"All I know is gone, now I'm all alone~"

Marion wasn’t testing out the mics. That much was obvious. He was straight up performing. And no he hadn’t written the song for Red Hood persay. But she had watched him every night and day agonize over the right words to use, the tune, the feeling behind it. Scraping up every bit of information he could it was probably more thorough than any police investigation done on Red Hood. It was then she realized, their room covered top to bottom in pictures of him covering the ones she had of Adrien, that Marion had completely and utterly fallen for the guy. No, it wasn't a song for him, it was a love letter for him, to him, about him. It was a picture that painted exactly how Marion saw him.

And she was willing to bet that the only people that didn’t realize it were them, both completely captivated by each other as Marion finished.

“What is it~” He holds the next note until the music fades out into nothingness, “Inside~”

The music stops, Marion opening his eyes, almost seeming startled that there were other people sitting before him. It’s only then he seemed to realize that there was more than just one other person in the arena and spirited off to check with the sound. It was as he turned to walk away Marinette could tell Hood had seen it, the robins newly stitched up the back of his jacket.

[connordavidscamera]

Pride | Connor Brashier

A/n: this was based off a dream I had last night and I immediately woke up and started writing it since i couldn’t finish it in my sleep.

Summary: you and Connor have a thing, but he’s been avoiding you.

Warnings: none? 

Word count: 1.8k

***

Being friends with Alessia has always been fun. And going on tour with her and Liv while she opens for Shawn Mendes definitely falls into the fun category. We're all backstage, goofing off while Shawn does sound check. I'm watching Liv and Les rehearse Ready, the band playing softly. This is always my favorite part, watching her before the show. Of course the real thing is awesome, watching your best friend do what she loves in front of thousands of people, but she's entirely herself in this moment and it's these times that I remember why we've been best friends for years.

I pull out my phone and start scrolling through Instagram, not finding anything particularly interesting, liking a few makeup videos before moving on. 

"No, Brash, I'm telling you it was the biggest spider I've ever seen!" My back straightens at the sound of Connor's name, but I keep my eyes trained on my phone.

"Brian," he laughs. Oh his laugh is beautiful. "It wasn't that big."

"Yes, it was! Hey, Les. Hey Liv."

"Hey guys," Alessia says back and the boys make their way over to them. I notice from the corner of my eye just how close Connor is to Liv and it hurts a little.

Connor and I have had this "thing" going since tour started. But lately it seems like I'm the only one with a thing anymore. He's making it a point to not be around me and I'd be lying if I said that didn't absolutely suck. Because for a while there we were together all the time, to a point where we started joking that the documentary was about me rather than Shawn. And maybe that's why he's keeping away, so he can focus on the film. It would make sense, but giving me the cold shoulder makes me feel like I did something wrong, and I don't think I did.

I sigh and lay on my back, a frown etched on my face. "Shit, y/n, you scared me. What are you doing hiding in a corner?" Brian asks.

"I'm not hiding," I mumble and turn my phone off, stuffing it in my back pocket. "The corner is just the most comfortable place I've sat all day."

"Well you can sit in my lap," he suggests with a smirk and my cheeks heat up. 

"In your dreams, Craigen." I sit up and pull my legs to my chest.

"Oh definitely." 

I spare a single glance at Connor and he's staring daggers into Brian. I look back down and let their conversation continue while I pick at the frayed edges of my ripped jeans. I don't think I'm meant to hear the "lover's spat" that ensues shortly after Brian's comment. But I'm literally only ten feet away, and it's not like they're the quietest bunch. 

"Craigen, back off," Connor grumbles through clenched teeth.

"Well at least someone is showing her attention these days. Haven't seen you around her lately."

"That's none of your business."

"Oh so I can't flirt because you started first? Well if that was going so well then why is she sitting by herself?"

"He has a point, Con." 

"No, Liv, he doesn't."

"Brashier, she's been moping for weeks. What happened anyway?" Liv finally has the nerve to ask the question I've been too scared to know the answer to.

"I'm an idiot," he says and his voice is much clearer, which makes me think that maybe he's looking over at me. A few seconds later, he's gently kicking my shoe. I look up at him and he gives me a sideways smile. "Can we go for a walk?"

I nod and he holds his hand out to help me up. We walk in silence around the arena for a while. I've never been in a situation where it was both awkward and comfortable to walk with someone like this. 

"So…" he starts.

"So?"

"Have you been enjoying tour?"

I shrug, "sure." Although I think I was having more fun when I was spending it with you. "You?"

"Yeah. Me too. Tons." We find ourselves at B stage and I walk up the steps, only to sit on the edge a few feet away. Connor sits next to me, his legs dangling like mine. 

"Hey guys," Shawn smiles brightly at us. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing much," I answer. "Just walking around."

He nods, "how's the arena look from there?" He gestures to where I'm sitting. 

I look around at the empty seats that will all be taken in just a few hours. "It's a huge place. Looks kinda scary actually. I don't know how you do it every night. I'd be too nervous." I lean forward a little, my shoulders tense and my hands caging me in on either side of my body as I hold on to the stage.

"Nerves mean you care," he pats my knee.

"So you've told me," I smile.

"Shawn, can you give us a minute?" Connor interrupts our conversation and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little annoyed.

"Oh, sorry bud. You were in the middle of something. Carry on." He starts to walk away but turns with a snap of his fingers, "y/n, you still good for that piano lesson later?"

"Yeah. I'll meet you in your dressing room."

"Great," he smiles again and then he's gone.

"Y/n."

"What, Connor?"

"I'm sorry I've been MIA lately."

"You've been busy," I shrug. "I get it."

"No I haven't," he shakes his head out of the corner of my eye.

"So you just didn't want to spend time with me. Well that's good to know. Thanks for telling me."

"No," he reaches for my hand but I pull it away, placing both of mine between my legs. "Honey, it's not like that."

"Then what's it like, Connor? Please explain it to me because I feel like I did something wrong."

"You didn't," he argues. "God, no. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Then why don't you want to hang out with me anymore?"

"Because then I'd want to do more than just hang out with you."

"And why is that a problem? Do you not want to like me? Is it a burden?"

"Jesus fuck, no! I just - I'm not good at this feeling thing, y/n. I don't know how to handle it."

"Well I'm gone in a few weeks anyway, so you don't have to handle anything. You're off the hook." I stand from my spot to leave, but he's quick to stop me, on his feet in a second, taking both of my hands. 

"Stop it. For just one second, stop."

I roll my eyes, "Connor this would never work with us anyway."

"Not with that attitude it won't. Please. Just let me speak, okay? And if you still don't want to be around me after I'm finished then we can forget this happened. Deal?"

I'm not the one that wasn't wanting to spend time with you. "Fine."

He takes a deep breath, "I really like you, y/n. It's scary how much I like you. I want to spend every moment with you, getting to know you. But I can't because I have to work and it's not fair to you."

"Connor I know-"

"Nuh uh, I'm not finished."

I sigh and shift my weight to one leg. "With our crazy schedules and someone always seeming to be following us around, there's never been a chance for me to take you out on a date. A real date. Just you and me at some restaurant talking and eating and enjoying each other's company. I want to take you out, you have to believe me. But I'm scared that us never being able to be fully alone is gonna ruin things for us."

"None of that mattered before. When we were fooling around on the bus, cuddling in the green room, holding hands on our way inside venues and under the table in restaurants. So why does it matter to you now?"

"Because I want to kiss you without the crew telling me I did it wrong. And hold your hand without them teasing us. And cuddle you without them calling me whipped."

"So you're gonna let your pride get in the way of our relationship? They're your friends, baby. Of course they're gonna tease you, it's their job! You think Les and Liv don't tease me daily about you? Look, if your pride is what's most important to you then maybe we don't need to be together." I take my hands out of his but I don't even make it to the steps before he's pulling me back. 

His hands cradle my face as his lips crash against mine for the first time. I whine into the kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck and his tongue swipes across my bottom lip, begging for entrance. I let him in and it's magic, his tongue dancing with mine, breathing him in as he breathes me in. I don't want to pull away so I tug on his hair a little and a beautiful grunt leaves his lips, his hands falling to my waist, bringing me impossibly closer. He pulls away first and I whimper at the loss of contact. 

I take a second to regulate my breathing, my forehead against his. "Now was that so hard?" I joke and he laughs, buries his head in my neck, pressing soft kisses there. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm an idiot."

"I'm sorry you're an idiot too."

He growls and nips at my sensitive skin with his teeth, I can't help the soft moan that escapes and then I feel his cheeky grin. "Will you be my girlfriend?" He mumbles.

"Yes," I whisper, kissing his shoulder.  When we pull apart, I run my finger over his bottom lip, which is a little smudged with my lip gloss. "Well would you look at that," I muse. "You kissed me and there was no one here watching to tell you you did it wrong." He looks behind me and shakes his head with a soft smile.

"You sure about that?" He points and I turn my head to see our friends all crowded together on stage A, watching the big screen that neither of us realized was on when we got here. 

Brian's the one to speak up first, turning to face us. "It's about fucking time!"

"Hey, Brash, I don't think pink is your color," Shawn laughs.

His cheeks are pink when I look back him. I cup one side of his face, "Don't listen to him." 

He shakes his head, "I don't care."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure," he holds my wrist and leans into my touch. "But you think you can kiss the color off me?"

I nod with a soft hum, "oh yes. I can definitely do that."

"Good," he smiles and leans in, kissing me again and again despite the groans from our friends when his tongue one again slips into my mouth.

"Get a room!" Liv yells at us and I can't help but laugh before pulling away.

"You heard the woman, let's get a room," Connor pokes my side. 

"Well lead the way, baby."

***

I hope you enjoyed! Like, reblog, and leave feedback!!

Tag: @sunrise-shawn @anamariel2301 @shawns-badreputation @bbellbagel @turtoix @ivegotparticulartaste @tomshufflepuff @dino-16-avocado @sleepybesson @lifeoftheparty74 @shawnssongs @luvluvxx @foreveralone19588 @shawnandconnor @5-seconds-of-mendes @emma-manuhpe @nedthegay @shawnsblue @curiouslycryptic @adelaidestreets @vinylmendes

Connor Tag: @shawnm521 @divinginfearlessly @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @bettroff @myyohmyuohmyy @madison-malfoy @shawnieeboyy @mutuallynotmutual @fivefeetapartt @rockstarshawnmendes @lostinmendess @sunrisebrashx @alinaxxshawn @heart-struck @ilsolee @daisyangei

[fandom-necromancer]

1033. I don’t like the way they look at you.

This was prompted by the awesome @aurea-b and I... had fun XD Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

‘Is there anything else I can bring you, Sirs?’, Gavin politely asked, while he disguised his search of any hint or piece of evidence as gathering empty glasses. ‘Hmm, that fancy android over there, if you don’t mind.’ Gavin hadn’t expected  that answer and followed the finger of the man before him over to the central pole of the club. Of course… ‘I’m afraid we are not that kind of club, Sir.’ ‘How about a private dance then, beautiful?’ He had grabbed Gavin by the hand he was reaching for a glass with. ‘Sir, touching is prohibited in this club’, Gavin pressed through his teeth, trying his hardest not to snap and let his fist find its way right into his face. Although he had to play the clueless waiter, he knew exactly who was sitting there right in front of him: One of Detroit’s worst human traffickers. Until now they had only gotten a name, Andrew Jones, and the last sign of life of an android dancer. A message left behind before he had been abducted, just like countless others in his line of work. All androids. Most of them from this club.

The club Nines and Gavin were currently working at as undercover agents. Being the only other android-human partners of the precinct when Anderson couldn’t have played the “sexy waiter” even if he had been ten years younger, really was unfortunate. Gavin wouldn’t have described himself as that either, but apparently the manager of the club had decided otherwise. Nines on the other hand had simply downloaded some Tracy-programs and used his own to hack the application process.

Thankfully Jones let him go, although it had only been after a few beats of prolonged contact, just to show that he could. Oh, how Gavin longed for a fight with this stick of a man, mission be damned. ‘I’ll see what I can do, Sir.’ ‘Yeah, go see.’ Gavin turned around and tried to remember who else had sat in that booth with the criminal. Who were they? Costumers? Partners? Just friends? Whoever they were they requested a private dance from Nines, who was just stepping down from the pole to retreat backstage. They had their eyes on him and although that was generally a good thing because the android could figure out a lot more things if he was that near to them, it also was the first step to being kidnapped. The android they had gotten the message from had been selected for a private dance with this man and was never found again.

His worry seemed to show as he ducked behind the counter to unload the empty glasses, because Julia, the bartender looked him up and down. ‘Something happened?’ Gavin couldn’t let Nines’ cover be blown, even if the woman was trustworthy. So he simply said: ‘Over at table twelve, the guy touched me. Just the wrist, no big deal, but…’ ‘But it’s disgusting. Yeah, I understand. Should I get someone else to fetch their drinks?’ ‘Nah, no need. He wants a private dance with one of the dancers though. The rooms free at the moment?’ ‘They should be. Do you know who he wants?’ ‘The new one. Android, tall, -‘ ‘Exactly your type?’ Gavin looked at the woman shocked, but she just laughed. ‘Hey, I have eyes and I see how you look at him when you walk past. Don’t worry about me, I have no problems with relationships between co-workers. Just keep it private.’ Gavin swallowed. ‘Err… yeah…’ ‘Here!’ She pulled a few bottles of water from under the counter. ‘Bring that backstage and tell him. Tell him to be careful, too. I know people are disappearing and the police, as always, does jack shit about it.’ Gavin grinded his teeth at that, but nodded and took the package. ‘Oh and Gavin? I noticed he looked at you too, so good luck!’

He slipped past the curtain into the relative privacy of the changing compartments. Not that there were a lot of clothes to wear, just a lot of different outfits for different shows. He was on the lookout for Nines, what wasn’t too difficult as he spotted the tall android right from the door. Gavin sat the water bottles down at the entrance and hurried over. ‘Hey, Nines, you are- Ugh, Goddamn, put some clothes on, will ya?’ ‘Gavin, you saw me naked enough times, this is childish.’ ‘Yeah, well, they haven’t!’ He gestured to the rest of the room that was still very open. ‘Actually…’ ‘Okay, stop, they want you for a private dance.’ ‘Who?’, the android asked as he pulled some pants on – not really covering more than underwear would have. ‘Idiot. Our suspects of course.’ Gavin watched as Nines put on several glowing rings around his wrists and slowly adding more and more jewellery until he nearly wore more than clothes. ‘Oh! Perfect. Then this case is finally going somewhere.’ ‘I don’t like the way they look at you’, Gavin grumbled, leaning against the dressing table while Nines applied make-up and tested out new patterns with his artificial skin. His performance always consisted of some kind of display how synthetic he was. Retracting his skin and letting it reappear to the music, playing with how much he let the costumers see. With that he had made it one of the top attractions in record time and Gavin had to admit it was quite entrancing.

‘Oh, Gav, darling. It could have been the light, but I sensed you looked at me the same way.’ Nines looked up to him and smiled and though it was still alien to see him with make-up, he had to admit the android was absolutely beautiful. ‘Yeah, well, I don’t plan to abduct you and sell you to the highest bidder!’ ‘Really? And here I thought romance was dead.’ Gavin threw him a warning look. ‘Oh, come on, Gavin. I’m the most advanced model there is. Fowler installed more trackers inside me than Cyberlife did. If I get abducted this will finally put an end to innocent people getting sold off. Really, in this example the worst case is the best-case scenario.’ ‘For the mission maybe. But for you? What if they find out we’re cops and decide to kill you?’ ‘Gav, you worry too much. If anything goes wrong, then I still have you looking out for me, haven’t I, love?’ He reached up to Gavin’s shoulders to pull him into a kiss, before standing up. ‘I’ll get ready for it; you can show them to room four. I’ll reset the bugs there.’ ‘Okay. Stay safe.’ ‘Will do.’

Gavin went back behind the bar to get the keys for the room, before stopping in front of Julia’s grinning face. ‘What is it?’ ‘Oh, nothing… Just that I was right, wasn’t it? Ah, you two go so well together! You definitely have to tell me more when your shift’s over! Now hurry! Back to work!’ On the way back to the booth, Gavin rubbed his mouth with his sleeve. Damn black lipstick…

‘Ah, our beautiful waiter is back! And, what about that private dance?’ Gavin couldn’t look the man in the eyes, as he jingled with the keys. ‘If the sirs would follow me to room four? Your dancer is waiting.’ Jones hurried to come to his feet, urging his partners to stand up too. Gavin waited until they were up to lead the way. He entered the room and as everyone was in, Nines appeared, walking overly seductively towards them. Gavin felt bile rising up seeing him cupping Jones’ cheek in fake affection. ‘Now, gentlemen, what can I do for you today?’, he cooed, and Gavin pulled the door closed.

He carried drinks and empty glasses back and forth and looked on his watch every few minutes. They had booked an hour, had paid wirelessly over Nines hooked up to the club’s systems. It was the longest hour in Gavin’s life and no matter how that would set back the mission, he hoped for Nines to just get out of there and their suspect leaving. The worst was not knowing. The bugs they had installed were record only. Transmissions to an outside source could have been detected. So, it was only ten minutes after their time had ended and no one had exited, that Gavin knew something was wrong. The thought appeared the same time Nines message came in. Gavin. Get a car. Something went wrong. Your phone is set to navigate you to me. We are driving.

Immediately, Gavin reacted. He let the empty glasses fall back onto the table and sprinted to the bar. ‘Julia, I need your car.’ ‘You what?’ Gavin ripped his badge from his pocket and shoved it in her face. ‘I. Need. Your. Car.’ ‘Holy shit you are from the police. Oh damn and I said-‘ ‘Forget what you said, there is an android getting abducted from your club right now. I need your phcking car. Right now!’ ‘Of course, but you should rather-‘ ‘No buts! Car! NOW!’

Julia nodded, fetched her jacket and ran to the parking lot after Gavin. He looked around for her car and froze, as she unlocked a 1975 vintage Fiat 500. ‘Ex-phcking-cuse me?’ ‘I told you you should have rather taken John’s car, he drives a-‘ ‘Doesn’t matter now. There’s no time. Go.’

‘Doesn’t this thing have a gas pedal of some sorts?’, Gavin shouted at her from the passenger seat. The damn car was tiny as phck and for once he was glad to be too tiny as phck. But right now, every emotion he felt was anger. Anger about how they crawled through Detroit’s streets tailing a black dodge challenger. Their only hope was the cities well known and well hated rush hour that they were stuck in just as bad as their target. ‘Hey, you are a cop!’ ‘Yeah, and that means my word is law! Now go over the damn speed limit!’ ‘Alright, pretty sure that doesn’t mean that, but as long as you pay my speeding tickets-‘ ‘I’ll phcking pay you anything as long as you find that gas pedal and press it through the damn floor!’ ‘Alright, alright!’ Gavin was pressed into the seat as Julia seemed to take his advice literally. And once they got speed she was willing to break every traffic rule there was: She changed into the oncoming traffic and slalomed her way through every traffic jam. ‘Don’t tell me this is top speed?’ ‘What do you think this is? I loved that car ever since I saw it and it is amazing if you want to find a spot to park! Now, will you stop complaining? What do you plan to do once we reach them?’ ‘If we reach them, that is! This damn toy can’t compete!’ ‘Okay. You insult my car? Now I prove to you speed isn’t everything!’

Gavin regretted his decision dearly. Because whatever the tiny car told about its owner… Julia seemed to be a rally driver. Cutting every turn perfectly and finding small parallel streets or even a park to race through, they managed to catch up.

Gavin. Are you… driving in a Fiat? ‘Are you wearing make-up?’, Gavin spat back although the android couldn’t hear him. Make room in the passenger side, I’m coming. Drive to the left… now! Gavin pushed Julia’s steering wheel to the side without a warning, trusting her to manage getting them back on track as the trunk of the car in front of them was ripped open and the hood clattering to the street before quickly disappearing. Gavin climbed into the back of the already crowded car, as Julia steered it expertly next to the trunk and pushed the door open. Nines managed to jump over and land more or less gracefully inside but had to huddle over his knees to fit. Gavin reached forwards handing Nines his gun that the android took with a surprisingly unphased: ‘Thanks, babe.’ As if getting abducted was fun. ‘Wait, you two are really…?’ Nines nodded, picking at his too tight, uncomfortable and sole piece of clothing. ‘We are. Now keep the car straight, please.’ He opened the window and leaned half his upper body outside, taking aim and shot. They watched, as his bullet hit the other car, piercing the tire and it spiralled out of control. ‘Hank and Connor are informed; backup is on the way. But we have to keep them here. Julia, if you would be so kind to park the car? Gav and I have some traffickers to arrest.’ The woman nodded and Nines was half out of the door, before he asked: ‘You wouldn’t have some additional clothes somewhere, would you?’ ‘Unfortunately not. But it suits you.’ ‘Hmm. That’s not really the point…’ Gavin groaned from the backseat as he himself wasn’t exactly presentable with his tight leather pants and deep V-necked shirt. ‘That will be enough joke-material for years to come…’

‘I would say, you look rather handsome’, Nines commented, now that they were outside walking side by side towards the other car. ‘Oh, phck off!’ ‘Come on, it was fun!’ ‘It was not!’ ‘Why? Are you jealous you didn’t get to have a “private dance” with me?’ Gavin was about to shout expletives at the android, before shaking his head. ‘You know what? Maybe I am!’ ‘Aw, Detective, no one said I would have to delete this programming after the mission is done.’ Well, that sounded… promising.

[perditaalottachocolate-blog]

Oops, I Did It Again!

I can finally share this fic with you here! Or rather share the fact that this was actually my work. How many of you suspected that? 

I want to thank all the people who made this event possible and took their time for it to happen! Anyway, this was fun so I hope you liked it, or you will once you read it ;) Check out other fics from the Who’s Who pt. 2 challenge as well, if you haven’t. And now without further ado:

Summary:  Oops! Leaving an akuma unattended is not a good idea, especially when you’re Hawkmoth. Gabriel learns it the hard way, inadvertently saving the day in the process. He hadn’t planned to make a habit out of it, but of course when he starts playing with akumas, trying to save his assistant, his son or Adrien’s admirer (who Gabriel’s been trying to akumatize, no to avail), somehow he becomes an accidental hero of Paris. He even manages to knock some sense into his own kin and put an evil Italian girl to shame at the same time. All in a day’s work for Paris’ bravest civilian.

AO3 / fanfiction.net

***

“Adrien, duck!” Gabriel yelled at the top of his lungs. 

THUD!

Oops. A boulder the size of a bus smashed to the left of where his son had been just seconds earlier . Gabriel paled at the thought of what could have been had Adrien had slower reflexes. The agility from the fencing and karate workouts apparently paid off.

THUD!

Another rumble reminded him that it was time to run, not ponder upon the various extracurriculars Adrien attended. 

“Father!” he heard his son’s panicky voice. “Look o-”

Smash! He ran face first into a leathery wall. 

Squish! Gigantean fingers closed over him and lifted him off the ground.

Akuma: 1; Gabriel:0.

He cursed inwardly as the giant lumbered through the streets. Each step thundered between the old walls and raised clouds of dust, making Gabriel’s eyes water.

“Father?” he heard Adrien’s muffled voice nearby. He squinted to the side. 

His son was trapped similarly to him in an enormous fist of the monster. Only the mop of blond hair stuck out from behind the green fingers. 

“I’m here!” Gabriel called and the blond mop sighed in relief. 

“Any ideas how we escape?” Adrien asked.

Gabriel bit his lip as he considered their situation. He felt a bit responsible. It wasn’t entirely his fault, but seeing as he was the one who released the akuma in the first place he couldn’t claim he was not to blame. It would be much easier to say that it was Mademoiselle Rossi’s fault - and it was, to a degree...

After all she ’ d been the one to drop by the mansion uninvited and to force his bodyguard to let her in. Then she bullied Nathalie into letting her meet the boss immediately . His assistant knew perfectly well he’d been busy with his other project, but apparently Lila had been extremely persuasive.

The way Nathalie passed on her request made Hawkmoth sigh in exasperation, drop his transformation and rush to his study, the freshly released akuma left to its own devices. And why had Lila come under the pretence of “discussing her appearance” at the new collection’s premiere? To badmouth Marinette and her “uninspired creations”. Again .

Gabriel would rub the bridge of his nose in irritation, had his hands not been pressed to his sides inside the trap. He’d known for a while that Lila had been holding a significant grudge against Adrien’s pigtailed friend. Which, if you’d asked Gabriel could mean only one thing - she must have been terribly and utterly jealous. Gabriel had yet to meet a more talented, modest, polite, kind and considerate teenager, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he desperately needed a successful champion, he’d be happy to nudge Adrien in Marinette’s direction. Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng would make an excellent girlfriend, and dare Gabriel say an even finer daughter-in-law. 

Maybe he was going out on a limb here, since Adrien stubbornly claimed Marinette was his friend, and a good friend only, but just one look at the gooey eyes his son was making at the mere mention of the girl told a quite different story.

But he digressed once again, pondering on how exactly had he and Adrien ended up in two of the four hands of Hawkmoth’s newest creation.

The truth was he had no idea who accepted the akuma, what were their reasons, motivation or even powers. This was Startrain all over again. Gabriel hated being helpless, a victim at the heroes’ mercy. Yet here he was, trapped, waiting for the rescue. 

Although… maybe this wasn’t Startrain? After all, even if he couldn’t control the akuma, he was still here. He could act. Who needs the heroes anyway? (He did, but only because he wanted to play with their toys for a bit). 

Gabriel concentrated, analyzing the villain’s size, posture and looks. He listened closely to the constant muttering of the beast he hitherto had been ignoring. He took notice of the direction they were headed. He assessed his resources, considering if Adrien would be of assistance. Finally, he crafted a plan. 

Step one, bite.

“YOOOOOWL!” the villain bellowed.

He smirked. Akuma:1; Gabriel:1.

***

“How does it feel to save the day? We’re about to find out,” the reporter chirped to the microphone. “Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news.” She winked to the camera. “We’re at the Grand Palais, waiting for the newest collection from Gabriel to hit the runway, but all everyone talks about this week is the bravery and aptitude of none other than the fashion mogul, the owner and creator of the Gabriel brand, Monsieur Agreste himself.” 

The cameraman turned to him and Gabriel suppressed a groan. This was so typical. You pull just one miraculous rescue before Ladybug can save your butt, and suddenly you’re a national hero. Still, you don’t look a gift horse, that is publicity, in the mouth. You just roll with it or whatever kids say nowadays.

“All in a day’s work,” he drawled, minding to keep his voice modest yet confident. This wasn’t the first interview that followed his reckless stunt and despite the fact that he’d just been reiterating the same speech, journalists didn’t seem to get nearly enough of “Paris’ bravest civilian hero”. 

Nathalie, who’d been shadowing him for the time of final preparations for the show, gave him a short nod and disappeared in the crowd. It was time to launch their concurrent plan, the sole reason this new collection even got a show in the first place. 

Gabriel kept the reporters properly busy so that no one would notice the little blue feather floating harmlessly towards the intended goal: the pink purse of one very stressed Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who fidgeted nervously at the edge of her seat, waiting for another of her original creations to feature in a Gabriel show. Nathalie had made sure Adrien’s friend got her fill of the Bourgeois’ finest brand of malice, which would put her in that fragile, disturbed state perfect for accepting an amok. Just a little trick to lure Ladybug and Chat Noir and hopefully to put an end to the ludicrous series of failures they’d been experiencing ever since Hawkmoth made his presence and demands known.

And then things went haywire. An unexpected wisp of air from the high window intercepted the amok and it sailed in a completely different direction, sinking into, oh great , Lila Rossi’s bracelets. 

So much for carefully woven, detailed plans and handpicked victims. 

“Sentimonsters!” Gabriel cried. “Everybody out!”

If he’d learned one thing working with Mademoiselle Rossi, it was that things got unpredictable and much more calamitous when she was involved. That’s why he had wanted to leave her out of his plans this time. That’s why she had been offered to actually model a piece, just to keep her occupied, even though she didn’t have even one model bone in her entire body.

Now Lila’s grin turned positively evil, as she sent the senti-snakes after… of course… Marinette. That Italian girl had some serious issues if anyone asked Gabriel. Why haven’t Nathalie called off the amok anyway?

Gabriel set out to find his assistant. Lack of control over their evil little friends was usually the source of big inconvenience. He’d learned it the hard way last time. Searching would go much faster if it wasn’t for the brainless crowds panicky sloshing inside the Grand Palais hall. Oh, for the love of-

“You must evacuate!” Gabriel yelled. “Find the nearest exit!” He squinted at the walls. Was it really that hard to actually read the signs that were there? “Here, and here, and here,” he said as he waved at the doors and people finally listened. The crowd started to file out of the building. 

“Please stay calm,” Gabriel continued to shout over the heads of the evacuating viewers. “There’s no need to trample each other. The sentimonsters are busy.”

He risked a glance at the snakes. Indeed they were kept busy. Marinette was doing exceptionally well at keeping one at bay. Sadly the other two weren’t engaged with her, but went off to attack someone else. A cold sweat covered Gabriel when he saw whom.

Adrien batted at the two remaining senti-snakes with a clothes rack, while shielding an unconscious Nathalie, curled in a corner. She must have been knocked out cold. 

The older Agreste cursed under his breath. Where the hell was Ladybug and Chat Noir when one needed them? This was supposed to be a perfect trap. 

At that moment the rack Adrien had been fending the snakes off with snapped in two and the first monster launched itself at the boy. 

Red flooded Gabriel’s vision. He pushed, leaped, ran, slid. He acquired a wrench somehow. He hit, thwacked, walloped and smacked until the sentimonsters scuttled away and huddled in the opposite end of the hall.

Ladybug arrived just as he and Adrien helped Nathalie to her feet. His assistant sported a nasty bruise on her forehead. Adrien’s clothes, the showcase items, hung in tatters from his shoulders. His trousers looked as if they were made of sieves. 

“It’s the bracelets,” Gabriel muttered, motioning towards backstage, where Lila’s maniacal laughter could be heard. He gritted his teeth.

“Got it,” Ladybug nodded.

One throw of a yoyo later, the heroine had the crazy Italian girl tightly gift wrapped as she went for the amok. 

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

Gabriel actually sighed in relief as the swarms of butterflies cleared the hall. Thank goodness it was over.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a familiar voice cut into his ease, “you’ve all seen this here, live, in TVi! Paris’ bravest civilian hero in action! Wasn’t he amazing?” 

Oh, that was the one thing he’d forgotten about. Why had he thought the reporter would have enough brains to run away? Of course she’d been broadcasting the whole thing live - what would get her a bigger audience than a fashion show turned heroic rescue mission?

“Oh no,’ he groaned, “not again .”

“Monsieur Agreste,” Madame Chamack shoved her microphone right under his nose and asked hopefully, “a few words of comment?”

Gabriel looked around helplessly. Adrien was searching for Marinette, Ladybug was trying to free herself from Lila’s hug of fake gratitude, and Nathalie took a sudden interest in the ceiling. A shadow of a smirk danced on her lips and he knew she’d never let him live this down. He might have to give her a raise just to keep her quiet.

“Sure,” he took a deep breath and turned to the reporter. “Why not?”

***

Gabriel swore this would be the last time. Either the plan works and he gets the most cunning, powerful and brilliant akuma ever, or he declares Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng off limits. Some gut feeling told him she was really special. If anyone could get him those miraculouses, it would be her. 

This was attempt number too-many even by his standards, but he was grasping at straws here. So when Lila offered to prove Marinette was a false friend, a liar and a bad influence, if not a threat to Adrien, Gabriel got tempted. One last time. If the Italian Job, as he started to think of it, didn’t work, he’d stop trying to akumatize Marinette whatsoever. As for Mademoiselle Rossi herself, he was still on the fence. On one hand, she had displayed incredible talent at riling people up. Chloe Bourgeois had nothing on her. On the other hand, Lila’s presence near Adrien, her more or less veiled suggestions that she wanted to be his girlfriend, her nosiness and conceit, the way she seemed to believe she got Gabriel himself wrapped around her finger, that he was actually buying her bull, well, suffice to say it was starting to get on his nerves.

And he was quite fond of his nerves, thank you very much.

Gabriel wasn’t even sure how exactly Lila wanted to provide proof of her claims, but it surely wasn’t anything legal. Even better. If it worked and he’d get the akuma it wouldn’t matter. If it didn’t work, he’d have a substantial leverage in case she’d decide to go after him one day.

His tablet chimed and a notification from Lila’s instagram account popped up on the screen. She started a live stream. A public live stream. 

“A dangerous game you play, Mademoiselle Rossi,” Gabriel muttered under his breath. He clicked on the notification and transformed into Hawkmoth not taking his eyes off the feed.

Somehow Lila had managed to corner Marinette in an empty dressing room. Despite the buzz of a photoshoot in progress and tens of people milling around the two of them were alone.

“What do you want, Lila?” Marinette’s tone was confident, even a bit exasperated. “Out of the two of us I am actually interested in learning a few things by taking part in a photo shoot.” 

“I told you to leave Adrien alone!” Lila ignored her classmate’s jab, getting to her own agenda. 

“What’s it to you? You don’t own him.”

“I don’t,” Lila admitted, the unspoken “yet” implied in her smirk. “But I am his close friend and I know bad acting when I see it.”

“Bad acting? What are you getting at?”

“You know, Marinette,” Lila murmured, adjusting the phone so that the other girl’s face would be seen. “You know very well. We’ve talked about it before. Might as well admit it now.”

Marinette, bless her heart, stammered something incoherently. Poor girl , Gabriel thought. If even he was aware of her gigantic crush on his son, then probably everyone and their dog knew (bar one oblivious teen in denial). But it was one thing to know people knew, and quite another to be forced to voice such a personal, intimate detail. And yet it turned out Lila had more tricks up her sleeve.

“We all saw the posters in your room,’ the Italian girl tsked. “ And Alya told me about the Athanase gift….” She raised a brow. 

Marinette’s eyes got bigger. All her bravado seemed to evaporate under Lila’s insinuations. 

“Nino mentioned an all boys party…” Lila drawled, pausing for effect.

Marinette gulped. “There’s nothing wrong-”

“In being a fan? I agree.” Lila smiled sweetly. “But considering the, ahem , scale and detail, wouldn’t you say it’s more than that?”

“More?”

“You’re not just a fan of fashion, Marinette. You’re obsessed. My question is - is it just fashion? Or maybe you’re Adrien’s crazed fangirl?” Lila circled her classmate, minding to keep the camera fixed on her. “Or maybe…” she suspended her voice, before going in for the kill, “maybe you’re trying to make a break in the industry on the backs of Adrien and his father? Connections are everything after all.”

A wave of pure, white hot hatred rammed into Hawkmoth. On the screen he saw Marinette seething, her lips pressed tightly together, her fists clenched and eyes narrowed to slits. He dropped the tablet and summoned the akuma.

“Go, go, go!” He rushed the butterfly.

When he returned to the device, the stream had already ended. He had no idea what had happened, but at that moment Lila posted a new picture - of herself with Adrien with the make-up artist in the background. An innocent smile and a V gesture had been paired with a few cringeworthy emojis and hashtags: #truefriends #friends4ever #friendshipgoals and so on.

There was no sign of Marinette, but Hawkmoth already felt the strong emotions ebbing away. No hatred meant no target for his akuma. He remembered himself before he broke the tablet in half. He sighed, calming himself down. At this rate he’d become the next champion.

And then the sirens started to wail. Fire alarms blared from every corner of the facility. 

“What on Earth-,” Hawkmoth scowled at the flashing red lights. It couldn’t have been an akuma. It was still somewhere out there, searching for its target. So the alarm must have been caused by something else. 

Footsteps outside told him something must have happened. He sniffed. The unmistakable stink of smoke filled his nostrils. For a second he considered his options, but ultimately he dropped his transformation and left his hideout. 

Around him people headed for emergency exits, but Gabriel felt a sudden urge to look for Adrien. He broke into a run. The boy had an awful knack of getting himself engaged in dangerous situations, and if Lila was nearby, it was probably a good idea to keep an eye on his son. 

Sure enough he found Adrien tucked in a corner, checking his phone instead of running to safety. Gabriel set his course to intercept. Without slowing down he grabbed the boy by his shirt and dragged him outside. On his son’s phone the last seconds of Lila’s Instagram story unraveled. Adrien’s brow furrowed in indignation.

“Where’s Lila,” he growled, before remembering himself. He swallowed the bile that was probably up in his throat.  “Have you seen Lila, Father?” he asked.

Gabriel was actually impressed. As an empath he could appreciate both - the extremely strong emotions and keeping them in check. 

Adrien climbed to his toes and inspected the crowd that fled the building. “Where’s Marinette?” This time his voice wavered. 

He spotted his Italian classmate nearby, talking to a reporter, a studied concern marring her face. 

“...of course I had to do something,” she said with emphasis. “All my friends are very dear to me. One of the things Dalai Lama has taught me-”

“Lila!” Adrien cut in, ignoring her ramblings and the audience. “Where’s Marinette?”

BOOM! Something blew inside the building. Glass shattered on one of the roof windows and plumes of smoke poured outside.

Lila paled and stammered something. For the first time her face seemed to be honest. She was genuinely scared as her eyes set upon the building’s entrance. 

“What did you do?!” Adrien cried. 

Gabriel’s stomach clenched as it dawned on him.

“She can’t get out?” he hissed, grabbing Lila’s elbow.

The girl gulped, shaking her head slightly. Then the terror disappeared from her face, replaced with well-practiced innocence. “The door locked behind me. I was going to get help but the alarm-”

Adrien beelined for the building. Gabriel cursed under his breath and dove after him. He briefly considered a quick transformation once he got inside. But it would rouse too many difficult questions if not only Gabriel Agreste but also Hawkmoth suddenly started rescuing people, so he dismissed this idea. He had enough brains to grab an extinguisher on his way.

“Adrien! Wait!” he yelled. He was about to jump into smoke when a string wrapped around him and he was yanked back. 

“Monsieur Agreste, what’s going on?” Ladybug released her hold on him. “Is Adrien there?”

Gabriel tried to keep the scowl off his face. He wasn’t used to being treated like a toy.

“His friend is trapped in that building,” he explained. “We need to-”

Ladybug’s yoyo beeped. 

Chat’s face appeared on the screen. “Could you lend me a helping paw, my Lady?”  Thick clouds surrounded him. “I have an akuma and a fire source here,” he said.

Ladybug shot an anxious look at Gabriel. “Any civilians?”

“Still looking,” Chat grunted. The screen blurred and a creak sounded when he forced a door open. “Ouch,” he hissed as the sprinklers started to work. “This cat doesn’t like to get wet,” he complained.

“Coming, Chat!” Ladybug shut her phone. “Please, stay here, Monsieur. This is not a job for civilian heroes,” she added with a faint smile and ran into the building.

Gabriel waited a whole minute, which said a lot about his self-restraint. When the swarms of ladybugs buzzed out of the roof window, fixing the damage and taking the rest of the smoke with them, he broke into run. 

Adrien was wrestling with a door to the only closed dressing room. 

“It’s stuck,” he shot out as a way of explanation. The corridor was too narrow for him to get a good running start, but he was doing his best to force his way in.

“No Ladybug or Chat Noir to help?” Gabriel scowled. Maybe this was below their paygrade.

“They put out the fire, but they had to leave,” Adrien mumbled. “They were each down to their last marker.”

Gabriel pushed the boy aside and grabbed the knob. It wouldn’t budge. “Marinette’s in there?”

“Yes, sir,” came a faint reply from behind the wood.

“Please get away from the door,” he instructed. He swung the extinguisher and smashed it into the lock. It did the trick much better than Adrien’s shoulder. 

His son burst inside as soon as the door swung on the hinges. Gabriel tactfully turned away when the boy pulled Marinette into tight embrace. He was wondering if the accident finally knocked some sense into Adrien, or if his son was still on the adrenaline high. Either way Gabriel made a mental note to finally address the “good friend” issue. For now he settled for averting his eyes and leisurely swinging the extinguisher he’d still been holding only to get a flash in his face.

Click. Click. Click.

At least three reporters decided to capture this moment for posterity. 

“Ah, and once again our local star, Gabriel Agreste, saves the day, or rather a member of his crew-” a journalist for TVi entered the scene, the microphone at the ready. “Can we get a comment on the latest video one of your young models posted shortly before this dangerous incident? I believe it featured the girl you just rescued,” he pointed towards the teens behind Gabriel’s back. 

Thankfully Marinette managed to free herself from Adrien’s bear hug, but her face was a battlefield between blissful blush and whitewash mortification.

Gabriel cleared his throat. “No comment,” he stated.

“But the conflict might affect the performance of your staff-”

“I value Mademoiselle Dupain Cheng’s talent and skill in design. I appreciate Mademoiselle Rossi’s hard work on the set,” he admitted. “But I refuse to be dragged into any personal conflicts. Now please, leave the set. We’ve already wasted enough time and money. No further comments,” he gestured towards the exit. 

“-oh I’m sure she was just trying to make a victim out of herself. You know, to gain pity or instant fame-”

That was Lila whispering in hush tone somewhere nearby, already spreading rumors. Gabriel’s fists clenched. He’d had enough.

“-Jagged Stone, who wrote a song about me, you know, he once said that fame-”

Gabriel flinched. He watched Adrien’s back as the boy led Marinette to the bathroom, steering clear off any prying journalists, keeping close to her, as if he would never leave her side again. 

Fame, Gabriel thought. That’s a dangerous game. I’ll show you instant fame, Mademoiselle Rossi. 

***

“We’re at Le Grand Paris, with Paris’ bravest civilian hero, Gabriel Agreste, although I imagine he needs no introduction!” Nadja Chamack exclaimed, starting her interview. “Monsieur Agreste has proved that you don’t need a miraculous to beat akuma after akuma. Ladybug and Chat Noir must be big fans of yours,” she grinned.

“As I am theirs,” Gabriel bowed, suppressing a flinch, and he went into monologue mode, providing the meat every reporter was after these days. From the time he slid across the table to thwack the akuma that threatened his fashion show, to the time he unloaded a bucket of hot coffee on another villain’s head to save Adrien, to numerous occasions he had managed to outwit his akumas (which wasn’t really as difficult as people seemed to think) before Ladybug and Chat Noir managed to get to the scene, he slowly but surely established his image as the civilian hero.

“Can you tell us more about today’s event?” Nadja asked. “You’ve been very secretive about it so far.”

That was the plan. His newest collection, the spotlight of the event, was only an excuse, as he had a particular fox to fry.

“All I can say is a night of quality fashion awaits us,” he said with a smile. “Our dear guests are going to be models as well!”

Nadja took the bait, and Gabriel was proud to say she hadn’t been the only one. 

“Ah, guests as models!” The woman leaned in. “Does this mean we won’t see your regular models?”

“On the contrary, the show is going to feature many familiar faces,” Gabriel replied cryptically. 

“I already see one - is that Lila Rossi?” Nadja zeroed in on the girl who just arrived at the red carpet.

“Indeed.”

“And her companion for the event?” the reporter asked, eyeing the crowds curiously.

Lila waved at the photographers and came to a halt next to Nadja, undoubtedly expecting a few questions. She was looking around, very much interested in her partner herself. Gabriel nodded to Nathalie, who led the boy fresh out of the dressing room.

“Your son, Adrien-” Nadja regarded him.

Lila’s lips stretched into a sly smile. The boy shot her with a toothy grin so unlike Adrien, that she recoiled in surprise.

Gabriel suppressed a smirk as he shook his head. “May I present Felix Graham de Vanily, my nephew and Adrien’s cousin.”

Felix bent in a deep, respectable bow. If he wanted, his manners were impeccable.

“Remarkable,” Nadja marveled. “They easily could have been taken for-”

“Twins?” Gabriel interjected. “Yes, they even managed to fool us a few times,” he let out an amiable chuckle, he’d been practicing in front of his mirror. “Felix is going to be Lila’s partner for tonight. I think I can let you in on a little secret: Adrien is going to accompany his girlfriend.” 

“Girlfriend?!” Nadja and Lila shrieked in unison. 

Gabriel allowed himself just a little smile. He put a hand to his chest. “A development that warms my heart,” he declared. “A very talented designer, who’s behind a few accessories for this collection. But I’m sure you already know her-, “ he gestured to the red carpet, where a new pair of guests appeared.

“ Marinette ,” Lila growled under her breath.

“I must leave now,” Gabriel nodded to the reporter. “I need to see to a few last minute details. Let me show you around, Felix. And Lila,” he added looking at her above the rim of his glasses.

Felix offered the Italian girl an elbow. She shot one last look at Adrien and Marinette, but she had no choice but to make room for them as she was led to the building.

“Mademoiselle Lila Rossi!” Felix chirped in delight. He was giving the girl a smile worthy of a shark straight from a dentist appointment. “We meet at last! Adrien has told me so much about you!” His grin widened, a feat Gabriel never thought possible. “So many celebrities are going to be here tonight. I can’t wait for you to introduce me to them, since you know so many famous people.”

Up to this point Lila was giving him a sour smile, but now fear flashed in her eyes. “Ce-celebrities?” she stammered. “S-sure, I know a few,” she added, anxiously looking around. “What the-?!”

That last exclamation was at the burst of flash in her eyes. 

Felix just shot the two of them in a selfie. “Great! This goes straight to my Insta! I’m tagging you of course,” he added in theatrical whisper. “I hope many more pics with all those celebs are going to follow!”

Gabriel trailed after them at a distance. He was very pleased with himself, humming in content at placing the right boy at the right place. Nathalie appeared at his side.

“Excellent job with Felix,” he praised. “I see you even managed to brief him, despite the short notice.”

His assistant’s smile was positively sinister. “I haven’t,” she said. “Apparently he’s been keeping in touch with Adrien and he kind of took the initiative himself.”

“Even better,” Gabriel nodded in approval. There were few things he appreciated more than champions with drive. 

He kept close to Felix and Lila, as his nephew led the girl from one cluster of guests to another, snapping pictures, and crying in disappointment whenever someone wouldn’t recognize Lila. He spent a significant amount of time in each group introducing her, and explaining how she knew so many people, alas no one in particular. At one point Gabriel thought he saw the boy pocketing Lila’s phone, but he might have been wrong. 

He checked the social media. Felix’s Instagram feed was full of pictures with their guests and Lila, who’s frown deepened with every photo. Jagged Stone and Penny Rolling, Prince Ali, Clara Nightingale and Audrey Bourgeois. Name after name, face after face, and not even a sparkle of recognition, which of course hadn’t escaped Felix’s attention. Two hashtags #sheknowsthemALL #thoughNOTthisONE accompanied every post. Not so subtle, but infinitely less brutal than what he initially had in mind. It might not destroy her reputation, excuse his pun - instantly, but a gradual decline was fine by Gabriel. Everything done in white gloves. Why didn’t he think about it earlier?

Felix and Lila stood by André the ice cream maker, who’d been appointed as a sort of celebrity catering novelty. He was shaking his head at the girl and Gabriel knew that meant he had no idea who she was. Felix feigned a moan of disappointment. The boy’s eyes twinkled with amusement.

“That looks like some just desserts,” came a comment from behind Gabriel’s back. It was Adrien hand in hand with Marinette. 

Gabriel hadn’t been lying to Madame Chamack. Marinette’s petite hand was tightly and tenderly wrapped in his son’s palm. The gooey eyes look was really good on him. The older Agreste made a mental note to use that for their next shoot. 

“Astonishing. It’s a miracle she hasn’t been akumatized yet,” Adrien reflected, observing the scene with André. 

Marinette elbowed him, but she was smiling.

Not really a miracle, Gabriel pondered, just your everyday Agreste hero miraculously restraining himself. Oops, he thought, did I do it again and save the day?

[roach-circus]

You’re My Home - Bri x Reader

Chapter 1/[TBA]

Notes: I’m starting my first series! I don’t have a set chapter number, but it will most likely end up being only 3-5 chapters, but I’m still quite excited. This will switch between the perspective of Brian and the reader. For warnings, there’s just a bit of swearing and mentions of alcohol in this chapter. The word count is about 7k, my longest yet! And, for once, the title is based on a non-Beatles song! It’s a Billy Joel song, and I definitely recommend it. It’s one of my favourites on Piano Man. I hope you enjoy this, and negative or positive feedback is greatly accepted!❤️❤️

“Y/N? Anyone in there?” your friend Angie says, rousing you from your dream-like trance. 

As you return to your senses, you tell her, “Sorry, I got distracted. Look at this guy’s moves!”

You motion to a man across the room who has been stepping and dancing to the music, elaborately enough to gather several gazes of bystanders patronising one of your favourite dance clubs, Eccentric. 

The two of you migrate across the floor, headed towards the bar, before Angie asks, “Well, are you up for a couple of drinks?” 

“Of course,” you say, standing on your tiptoes to see above the crowd. “just let me use the loo, and then I’ll be right back.” 

Eventually, you spot the loos; you shuffle through the crowd and pull open the heavy door.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

As you finish drying your hands, you pick your purse up off the counter and push the door open once again. Not to your surprise, Angie is not where she was when you had parted. As you scan the crowd, you suddenly spot her, dancing alongside the disco-man from earlier. 

“Angie, what the fuck are you doing?” you shout in her direction, but you got no response. Making your way across the full floor, and back to your friend, you reiterate your statement quietly, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Ignoring your comment, she explains, ruffling the man’s hair, “Y/N, this is John, John Deacon. John, meet Y/N.”

“Pleasure meeting you, Y/N,” he states, softly.

“Pleasure meeting you as well, John,” you respond, slightly frazzled by the closeness of him and Angie, considering you had left her company for no longer than 10 minutes.

“And how do you know him?” you ask, breaking the brief not-so-silent silence between the three of you.

“We knew each other from college, and he’s an electrical engineer, like you, Y/N!” Angie informs you.

“Oh, you’re an electrical engineer as well?” he asks. “Are you occupied?” “Currently, no. I’ve only just recently graduated. Why do you ask?”

“I’m the bassist in a rock band, we’re called Queen, and we need some extra help on sound and lights.”

“Oh, wow,” you say. “Well, I’d be honoured.”

“What do you know about backstage tech?”

“I can deal with spotlights and stage lights, and I can work an equaliser pretty damn well, if I do say so myself,” you inform him, with a little laugh. 

“How’d you like to try it out? We’re just beginning to perform more frequently, and I’d love to have you as one of our roadies if you’re up to it. I’ll only have to check with the others.”

Somewhat startled by the swiftness of his decisions, you simply reply, “That sounds amazing!” and move slightly closer to Angie. 

“May I have your number so that we can discuss this later as well?” he adds.

“Of course,” you tell him, quickly penning it on the spare napkin Angie offers you. 

John accepts the napkin with a friendly smile, and you take another sip of your fruity drink, placing it back on the counter before you step back onto the dance floor to join Angie. 

The two of you, a-bit-more-than-slightly tipsy, shimmy and bop to the disco music playing over the mixed dialogue of a large crowd. You’d had quite the day today, receiving a job offer at a bar, of all places, but you were excited. As you had progressed through the process it took to earn your degree, you had begun to wonder over time if you would ever be able to put it to use in a way that would be enjoyable. Combining your love for music and your love for engineering into one job was the dream, and having it just offered to you was quite surreal, especially because of how fast it had been proposed. You’re overjoyed, really, and you can’t wait for John to call you, hopefully tomorrow. But then again, he hadn’t specified when he planned to call you.

“Hey, Angie!” you call your friend. “I don’t believe we got the time that John is planning to call me. I’m going to go ask him!” 

Shouting over the noise as well, she replies, “Alright, I’ll stay here, I promise!”

You trot towards where you had seen him earlier. You spot him quickly, a little further away, but not entirely out of sight.

“Hey, again, John!” you say, as you reach him.

“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N,” he remarks jokingly.

“I just wanted to know what time you plan to call me?”

“How’s eleven o’clock tomorrow?” he asks.

“That sounds fantastic,” you tell him appreciatively, “thanks!” Then you begin to head back to where you left Angie. When you’re about halfway there, he gives you a quick wink, also without any explanation. 

You smile. 

You cannot wait to meet his crowd.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Joy and anticipation fill the remaining hours leading up to your phone call. You were not at all sure what to expect, but that doesn’t matter right now. 

“God, Y/N, I get it, you’re excited,” Angie grumbles. “But this is the fifth time, and counting, that you’ve mentioned your phone call within three and a half hours. I’m happy for you, but maybe could you shut up about it for a minute.”  She sounds annoyed, but there is also a definite undertone of enthusiasm in her voice. 

You check the clock, which reads nine-thirty. Although the call is just a follow up of your conversation with John, you’re thrilled to finally have a promising job offer.

As you lie down on your flat’s sofa, your cat Draco follows you, and you look out the window, contemplating what you will do if they decide to hire you as a roadie for Queen. You wonder what the other band members are like, without knowing anything about them other than the fact that there is a lead singer, a guitarist, a drummer, and a bassist, the latter of which is John, Angie has informed you. Before you know it, you’re daydreaming about watching the band from high up on the scaffolding, with a view of a smoky and magnificent stage. You envision them in your mind and place the people on your imaginary stage. 

Then, suddenly, the phone rings, and you jump to your feet. You practically sprint to the telephone.

“Y/N speaking, who is this?” you ask out of instinct.

“This is Brian May of Queen, are you our new roadie?” 

At this, you feel your heart skip a beat, firstly because of being referred to as their roadie, and secondly because of the new, gentle voice coming out of the phone. 

“Hello, Brian May. I assume John told you that I may be working for you guys soon?”

“Yes, our bassist! I’m excited to have you on the team— Y/N, was it?”

“That’s me! I had been expecting John to call me, but it’s nice to meet you! Which member of the band are you?” you ask.

“I’m the guitarist, a man named Roger Taylor is our drummer, our lead singer’s name is Freddie Mercury, and as you know, John’s the bassist.”

“Oh, that’s very impressive. I did try to pick up the guitar at one point, but I haven’t practised in a while,” you tell him. 

“It certainly takes practice, but I believe it looks harder than it is.” His tone is friendly, his words are comforting. “So what are you bringing to the band?” he questions.

“John said he’d like me to help with sound and lights. I’m an electrical engineer, like him.”

“Wow, very intriguing! I’ve watched him build an amp, it’s quite mesmerising, honestly.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “He can build amps?” you say. “I’ve got to ask him about that some time, that’s interesting.”

The two of you converse for a while, sharing your musical inquiries, and Brian tells you about the band members, the songs they’ve written, and about himself. You tell him about your journey towards your degree, and how thrilled you were when you learned you could work in a way that would allow you to combine your passions. 

During the course of the phone call, you begin to warm to the sound of Brian’s voice, the tender peacefulness of it and the way his tone becomes extra cheery when he speaks of something he has a passion for. Soon, it feels like you’re talking to an old friend, 

As much as you’d like to keep talking with Brian, though, Angie soon interrupts to tell you that it has been an hour since you’ve picked up the phone.

“I need the phone, I’ve got to call my boss!” she scolds, and so you promptly address Brian.

“Sorry, Brian, my flatmate is getting a bit petulant and wants to use the phone, but I’ll  be sure to call you back!”

“Of course. It was nice talking to you. Any chance you’d like to visit our studio sometime? If you’re going to work with us, you should meet the other bandmates, and we can—” 

“I’d love to, thank you!” you respond, too excited to let him finish. Your current situation can’t get much better, you think.

“How does half-past three sound?” he responds, and you’re sure he’s aware of your eagerness. 

“Today?”

“Yes!” he replies, excitedly as well.

You smile to yourself.

-+-Brian’s POV-+-

Her enthusiasm is contagious. You can tell how overjoyed she is to be working with a band. You had never had anyone who’s so zealous and wanted to work with the band before. 

“I’ll give you the address if you’d like,” you tell her.

“Of course, just let me find a pen,” she responds.

You wait with the phone to your ear, until you hear a bit of rustling, and, “Found one!”

Listing off the address of your studio, you were excited to meet the girl you had been talking to for an hour now. You heard some scribbling, and then another voice, saying something along the lines of, “I’ve got to get on now, Y/N.”

“Apologies, that was my flatmate again, I’ve got to go,” she says, an undeniable sense of urgency in her voice.

“Oh, of course! It was wonderful meeting you, Y/N, and I can’t wait to meet you in person!” you tell her. It had truly been a lovely time, sharing your stories from the band and telling her about the kinds of music they make, and just having a genuine conversation with someone who is, to you, a stranger.

“A pleasure meeting you as well, and I’ll have you know that I’ll be there at three-thirty, on the dot!” she replies.

You hear the phone on the other line click, and then you hang up as well. 

“Jesus, Bri, how long was that fucking phone call?” you hear from across the room.

“She’s quite an interesting girl, Fred. I’m excited to have her working with us,” you tell the voice. 

“So when are we going to meet this girl?” another voice, belonging to the blondie, asks.

Oh.

“Uhm, I told her to come to the studio at half-past-three,” you respond, sheepishly.

“Brian! What the hell?” Deaky exclaims.

“I just wanted her to get to know us if she’s going to be working with the band,” you frantically explain to him.

You didn’t know what came over you. Something just told you that you had to meet this girl in person, and soon. 

“Do we have a bit of an infatuation on our hands?” Deaky asks jokingly.

“I haven’t even met her in person, Deaks, I just thought we should all tell her how things are run if we ever figure that out, and you seemed pretty quick to convince her to be a roadie!” you tell him, a bit more inadvertently hostile than you intend.

“We need more crew, she was very qualified, it was appropriate in the situation.”

“Well, she’s coming over anyway, so there isn’t any going back now.” you retort.

-+-Reader’s POV-+-

As you make yourself a bit more presentable, you think to yourself how fast this has happened. You didn’t mind- you’re insanely excited- it’s just fascinating. One night you’re at a bar with Angie, next thing you know, you’re about to meet up with uprising musicians to work with them at their performances, and a bit in the studio as well, as Brian had informed you. To consume time, you decide to put on music. You weren’t exactly sure what kind of mood you were in, but you settle on “Piano Man,” a classic. A mix of upbeat and more relaxed tones. As the train-like beat of “Travelin’ Prayer” fades in, you tap your hand to the beat on the lounge chair you were currently resting on. The song reminds you of a mix of blues and country, which was always a bit odd to you, considering it was Billy Joel.

The time passes by faster than you think it would, experiencing a myriad of different emotions throughout the album. Before you knew it, it’s three o’clock. You slip on some shoes, walk out the door and into your car.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

As you knock on the studio door, your heart was beating out of your chest. A tall, lanky, and impressively curly-haired man appears from behind the door and pulls it open. 

“Hi! Y/N, correct?” he asks.

“Yes, and you’re Brian, right?” you respond. You recognise his voice; you wouldn’t have mistaken it for anyone else’s if your life depended on it. 

“That would be me!”

“Come on in, why don’t you?” he offers.

“Thank you,” you return.

You follow him as he walks through a dimmed hallway, leading you to a brighter room, based on what you could see through the impending appearance of the doorway. When you enter, you were met with the faces of the other three band members. One long, blonde-haired man was laying on a big leather couch, a long, black-haired man with bangs was reclining on a chaise lounge, looking through several stapled papers, and John, the bassist, you remember, was sitting close to the blondie on the couch.

Pointing to the black-haired man, Brian said, “Y/N, this is Freddie, Freddie Mercury. Freddie, meet Y/N.”

“Wonderful to meet you, darling,” Freddie addresses you.

“It’s a pleasure, Freddie,” you respond.

The other member, who you assume is Roger, recalling what Brian had told you on your phone call earlier, but you still let him formally introduce the two of you to each other.

“Y/N, this is Roger, Roger Taylor. Roger, this is Y/N.”

“Oh, enough of that,” Freddie exclaims, “Y/N, dear, help me pick out a top, I can’t seem to decide.” 

You step over to where he is lying and sit down next to him. 

“Here’s number one,” he says, showing you a flowy white top, “and here’s number two,” he adds, flipping a few pages over to reveal a black top with a sheer black cape. You look at him and look at the pictures.

“I say number one, but it’s your choice,” you tell him.

“Yes! I knew you would pick that one, thank you,” he tells you, excitedly, “I’ll inform the designer.”

“Ah, I see the two of you have hit it off very quickly,” John comments.

“Hey, I haven’t known you for much longer, John,” you retort.

“Just call me Deaky, the other three will correct you anyways,” he says, half-defeatedly. 

“It’s practically his name!” Freddie articulates.

“If you say so, Deaky,” you say, just to mock him.

Roger gets up and strolls over to his drum set, and starts fiddling with something on the side of them. He then pulls out a drumstick and hits it. He turns something on the drums and hits it again. He does this a few times, before asking you, “Hey, Y/N, could you give me a hand?”

“Of course, Roger.”

You step over to his drums as he asks, “Could you just keep turning this until I say stop?”

You reach down to a small knob on the drum and begin slowly turning it, and Roger hits it several times until he says, “Okay- stop, that’s good, thank you, Y/N!” But you keep turning it, and you see his eyes widen a bit, till you put it back where he had initially wanted. You giggle as he says, “Oh, fuck you, you can’t do that!”

-+-Brian’s POV-+-

Everyone seems to be getting along swimmingly, but for some reason, you weren’t able to do much more than watch. You’re glad Y/N is getting along with Roger, Deaky, and Fred, but you also want to talk to her. But what you say must be important, you can’t just start talking; otherwise, it’ll be boring.  

“Bri?” you snap out of your thoughts, “we were just talking about our colleges. Tell Y/N about what you study.” Deaky instructs.

“Oh, sorry, Y/N. I study astrophysics, specifically interplanetary dust-”

“And yes, he did go to college just to study dust, you are not mistaken,” Roger interrupts.

“Excuse me, Rog, it is a significant topic!” you respond. “It’s everything that separates the planets, a zodiacal cloud.”

“I mean, that’s pretty cool to me, Bri,” Y/N interjects. She called me “Bri”. It’s the little things, the small gestures that mean so much to you.

“See? She agrees!” you tell Roger, trying to prove yourself. 

“Ladies, cool the fuck down,” Freddie orders. 

You sigh, “Fine, but I can promise you, Fred, this battle will never end!” 

“So, about Y/N working as a roadie,” Deaky starts, “She’ll be working on lights and sound for concerts, and perhaps some sound around the studio.”

“That sounds fantastic to me,” Freddie says before Deaky can say another word.

“I’m in,” Roger adds.

“Definitely not opposed,” you include.

“I have no say in this, but if I were you I would let me help you guys,” Y/N says facetiously.

“Well, then I believe it’s unanimous, although I’m not sure why it wouldn’t have been,” Deaky declares. “Love ya, Y/N.”

“Congrats, now you get to switch my pedals out during shows, and then I’ll yell at you to do it faster as payback,” Roger adds, jokingly, rubbing his hands together and grinning maniacally.

“Welcome to our little family, Y/N!” Freddie says, joy very much apparent in his voice. 

“I can’t wait to get to spend more time with you!” you say, in a slight panic.

Was that creepy? It was probably fine. But what if it wasn’t? What if Y/N misinterprets it? 

-+-Reader’s POV-+-

You weren’t sure if you had expected them to hire you or not, but they did! At the studio, you talk tech with John, as the other band members remark on how much of a nerd the two of you are, but you don’t mind, it was all in good fun. Freddie and Rog practise some vocals together, and Brian was working on a riff, almost the entire time. Freddie also tries out some new lyrics with Bri accompanying him. You don’t notice how late it had gotten until you heard Deaky say, “Alright, I’ll be heading home. You lot have a good night, including Y/N.”

You hear several, “Goodbye, Deaky,”s as he leaves, yawning. 

“I think that might be my cue as well, I’ve got a long day tomorrow. I’ll wish you all goodnight,” you announce.

“Have a goodnight, Y/N,” choruses from the remaining group.

You walk out to your car, thinking about the whirlwind of a day-and-a-half you just had. It was exciting, though, and now you have a job- and a fantastic one- working with people you genuinely liked. Notably, Brian, he seemed to be very passionate about what he does, and very willing to take risks for things he loves, like astrophysics. You couldn’t wait to spend more time with him, too.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

As you pull into your flat, leave and lock your car, and unlock the front door, you could see your cat, Draco, pawing at the window. 

“Alright, alright, I’m here!” you affirm him as you close the door behind you. He comes up to you and walks alongside you to the kitchen, where you give him his late-night-snack. As you place down his food and water bowl with a clink, you hear the ringing of your phone. “The hell… it’s almost eleven o’clock!” you say to yourself, but pick the phone up anyway. 

“Y/N speaking, wh-”

“Get off your ass and come party with us, Y/N!” you hear Freddie exclaim.

“I thought you all went home because you were tired!”

“Oh, no, that always just means, get home, change, and go directly to the bar!” you hear in Roger’s voice.

“Wait, you’ve got Roger there too?” you question.

“Yes, and Brian, and John, get over here, girl!” Freddie orders you.

These boys certainly are good at being abrupt.

“Alright, fine,” you say, feigning reluctance. 

You aren’t opposed to visiting the bar; it was just surprising to you that they didn’t mention it an hour ago when the five of you were still in the same place.

“And you all are meeting at Eccentric?”

“Yes, I’ll see you in half an hour?” Freddie asks.

“Of course, Fred. I wouldn’t miss it,” you tell him.

To be honest, the more time you spent with them, the better. All four of the boys were very fun to be around, and getting a bit drunk tonight wasn’t the worst idea. You place the phone down and head over to your bedroom to re-freshen up. You feel a little bit guilty leaving your cat, but he had plenty of food, and you would make sure to get back in time to feed him in the morning. 

“Sorry, Draco, boy, I have to leave again. But I’ll be back soon,” you tell him, as he rubs up against your legs, “I love you, I won’t be long.”

You knew you would be out for a while, but it made you (and maybe him) feel better about the situation.

Before you knew it, you were back out the door and in the car. 

-+-Brian’s POV-+-

“Wait, you fucking did it?” you frantically ask Freddie.

“Of course, we never leave out new friends and-slash-or roadies!” he responds.

You can not let this new girl see you drunk, it never goes well.

“Now get in the car, you wanker,” Roger orders.

“Coming, Rog.”

On your way, all that fills your mind was the consequences and the things you could accidentally do while under-the-influence.

By the time you had arrived at Eccentric, you had almost entirely convinced yourself to stay sober for tonight. But, as you walk through the door, and spot Y/N, full drink in hand, you were a bit less worried. She waves towards you, Freddie, Deaky, and Roger, and you wave back. 

“I’m going to go get a drink,” you told them as you began to make your way to the bar.

Y/N looked beautiful, her eyes reflecting the flashing colours of the dance floor, her hair was in an updo. An elegant choice, you think, especially for the bar, but obviously, you didn’t mind.

-+-Reader’s POV-+-

You desperately try to keep your hair in its position, thankfully not-too-tipsy, as you saw Brian walking towards your spot at the bar. 

You greet him, “Hey, Bri!”

“Hello, Y/N,” he tucks a curly lock behind his ear, “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing fairly good, though I’m feeling a bit guilty, because I’ve left my cat, Draco, alone,” you tell him, honestly. 

“Oh, Draco, like the constellation?”

“Yes! It happens to be my favourite,” you inform him. 

“Oh, how interesting! It’s mine as well,” he tells you excitedly, “and I’m sure Draco will do alright, no reason to feel guilty as long as he’s been fed.”

“I always do before I go out. Do you have any pets?”

“I don’t, but I love all animals dearly.”

“That’s so sweet! To be quite honest with you, it’s nice to meet people that present themselves as respectful and kind towards women; you don’t find as many of those these days-”

“Just kiss already, lovebirds!” you hear Freddie slur from behind you.

“Oh, shut up, Fred,” Brian ripostes.

“As you wish,” he responds with a smirk before strutting back to join a snickering Roger.

Brian returns to looking at you, “Excuse him, that was pretty uncalled for.”

“No worries,” you reassure him, smiling. 

Suddenly, Brian jerks his head up a bit, and it alerts you.

“I’ve just remembered, I’ve got to get outside,” he tells you, urgently, already attempting to push through the crowd.

“Wait, Bri,” you quickly try to stop him, “Why?”

“A Leonid meteor storm is supposed to occur right around now, it’s a highly infrequent experience, and it’s going to be visible from our location!” he tells you. 

Your eyes widen, “Are you sure?”

“Completely.” 

This news completely changes your idea of dancing sitting around the bar for a few hours.

“Can I come with?” you say, a bit quieter.

“Sure! Let’s just get out there before we’ve lost the opportunity,” he declares.

The two of you dash out the door, don’t mention anything to John, Freddie, or Roger and look around for a suitable viewing spot. 

With little luck, you ask Bri, “Do you see anywhere we can sit?”

“I do, it’s only a bit further up there,” he answers, pointing towards a large bench, secluded from most streetlights and illuminated by piercing moonlight.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

As you get closer, you begin to jog lightly, before taking a seat on the bench and looking back at Brian. 

“This is much nicer,” he comments, before sitting down beside you. 

Before you can respond, bright flourishes of light begin to cross the sky. As they start to pick up pace, you don’t need to acknowledge it. Both of you were fully immersed in the light show before you. You barely notice as Brian slips his arm around your shoulders, grazing the back of your neck, his gaze still focused on the astronomical wonder. You sigh, lightly, taking everything in. You feel both wholly aware of everything, and as laid back and content as one can be. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” Bri remarks fondly.

You don’t respond, but you nod slowly, captivated by the view. Slowly turning away and towards him, you see him open a hand for you to take in between the both of you, and you do. You ponder over how you found such a fabulous and caring friend. Spending the next hour and a half, just like this, Brian’s comforting touch apparent and warm, you watch the meteor storm in awe. 

“That was amazing,” both of you remark, almost simultaneously as the sky begins to darken again.

You sit with him in peaceful silence for a moment, the only sound around you is your breathing and the tranquil chorus of crickets hiding in the trees. You wouldn’t have snapped back into reality if it weren’t for the distant sound of tires squealing.

You remind him, “We should probably start back, the others might be worried.” 

-+-Brian’s POV-+-

You don’t want to leave, but you respond, “Right.”

As you slowly rise from your sitting position, you heard, distantly, “Oh my god, just fucking kiss!”

You and Y/N turn to see Roger, Freddie, and Deaky huddled together, giggling like teenagers around the corner. 

“Bloody hell, Fred!” you snap. 

“Just doin’ my job, darling!” Freddie exclaims, now doubled over with the others in drunk laughter.

“So sorry about them, they’re outrageous when they’re ‘under the influence’,” Brian tells you

“It was a little bit funny...” Y/N giggles lightly, as you both arrive back to the mass of long hair and hysterical amusement.”

“How did you lot even find us?” he addresses the group.

“Wouldn’t say it was too hard when you too were practically making out,” Roger states dramatically, laughing at his joke.

Suddenly, you hear a thump and look down to see Roger, thankfully still conscious, waving his arms in the air for someone to help him up.

“Oh no, our friend hath toppled over!” Deaky points out the obvious, still laughing, but reaching down in a failed attempt to lift Roger from the grass.

“Yeah, no shit, Deaks,” you respond, but this time, you chuckle a little as well.

“Does anyone have a stretcher? Perhaps a cot? A luxury chaise?” Freddie cracks himself up.

They joke between themselves for what seems like ages, Y/N mildly joining in. After it appears they’ve calmed themselves a bit, you turn to her and inform her, “We’ve got to get these crazy folks home. Could you help me out?”

-+-Reader’s POV-+-

“Of course, Bri,’ you answer, almost looking forward to it, strangely, “Are bringing them to their flats or just have them crash at one?”

“There’s no way we’ll get them to their respective places and make it out alive,” he tells you.

You look back at the three extremely tipsy boys and snicker to yourself.

You both turn back to them, and you raise their attention by shouting, “Who’s up for a sleepover?” 

“Ooh, delightful!” “Yay!” and “Sleepover!” chime from the group.

“Are we bring them to mine or yours?” you ask Brian.

“I was planning on getting them to my flat if that’s alright.”

“Sounds good to me, not sure how excited my flatmate would be about me bringing home four men without previous notice,” you joke.

You and Brian assist a giddy Freddie, Deaky, and Roger to your car. You take the driver’s seat next to Brian as you hear assorted mumbling and the occasional acknowledgement of a passerby omitting from the backseat.

The ride to Bri’s flat is undoubtedly entertaining, with Roger trying, successfully, to stick his head out the sunroof and Freddie attempting to get his meow precisely like a cat’s, while Deaky ties his hair to the FM handle. 

“As soon as you think they’ve calmed down, they’re back at it,” Brian informs you as if he were referring to a group of rowdy children.

Thankfully, their actions finally wear them out by the time you arrive. 

Helping them inside, Bri comments, “Don’t worry, they’ll be out in less than twenty-five minutes.”

They indeed were like small children if they got drunk enough.

You notice that there are already two folded out-couches fixed with sheets and blankets in Brian’s sitting room.

“I’m assuming this happens quite often?” you question, after noticing this.

“Oh yeah, almost every time. Although this time I have someone to help me out. Thank you, by the way.”

“Oh, no problem, it was quite amusing, really.”

You brought John and Roger to one of the sofabeds, and Freddie to the other, per his request from earlier that night, Brian tells you.

He treads to what you assume is his kitchen, and emerges, a few minutes later, with three glasses of water for the boys.    

“Oh, thank you,” is the last thing you hear from any of them.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Once they are all visibly asleep, you aren’t entirely sure what to do. 

“So, do you want to stay here for the night or are you going home? Just keep in mind that if you plan to stay here, you’ll have to share a bed with me, unless you’d like to sleep with the boys.”

You should go home, but something tells you to stay.

Over a few seconds, you contemplate the consequences of just staying over and returning home in the morning, and you conclude that it really wasn’t that detrimental.

“If it’s okay with you, I think I’ll stay here for tonight,” you inform him.

“It’s perfectly alright.”

You follow him back into his room and flop onto the bed, exhausted from hauling the boys back to the house. You lay on your back for a minute, staring up at the off-white drywall ceiling.

Soon, Brian sits next to you, but now he is holding a large acoustic guitar. Oh, to be living a cliche. But you don’t mind; you think it’s sweet. He begins strumming slowly and quietly mumbling. When he finds himself playing the last chord, you can see him thinking over what he has played. He starts again, his mumbles becoming words and his quiet tune becomes a passionate lullaby, 

So dear friends, your love is gone,

Only tears to dwell upon.

I dare not say as the wind must blow,

So a love is lost, a love is won.

He looks off to the side in thought, tapping his nails against the wooden body of the guitar.

Taking a deep breath, he resumes,

Go to sleep and dream again,

Soon your hopes will rise and then,

From all this gloom, life can start anew,

And there'll be no crying soon.

You both sit there for a minute, hearing the last of the strings ring out before silence.

“That was outright enchanting, Bri.”

“Thank you. I had the tune in my head as we were watching the meteor storm. To be frank, I’m not fully sure what inspired the lyrics, I just enjoy the sound of them, I think.”

“Well, I quite like it.”

You aren’t fully sure where the night should or will go, but before you know it, you’re under the covers of his bed as he finishes his shower. A few nights ago, you would not have thought you would’ve found yourself in this position. You aren’t all that aware of how this may change your relationship with Brian, but right now, all you could think about was getting sleep. It has been a long, exciting day, but you need some rest. You turn onto your side, pulling the comforter further up to your shoulders and close your eyes. Thinking about the days to come, you can’t wait to see all of the Queen boys more. It had been a great introduction into their “family” today, and you’re overjoyed by the thought of spending lots of time with them. You allow your mind to wander, as you remember less and less of what had been taking place in your brain just moments earlier. 

Unexpectedly, you feel long arms wrap around your waist, and soft hands rest on your belly before you can oppose. It takes you a moment to process the current arrangement, Bri’s chin nested in your hair. Before the not-tired-you can mentally object, you sink back into him and accept his embrace. You’re a bit confused as to how this came about, but you just enjoy it.

“Is this too much? I greatly apologise if it is, I should have checked with you first,” Bri asks, abruptly.

“No, no, it’s absolutely alright, Bri. I’m not exactly sure what it means for us but friends can do this as well, right?”

-+-Brian’s POV-+-

Right.

“Oh, of course, as long as we’re both comfortable,” you respond.

Y/N places a warm hand onto one of yours placed around her and sighs contently. It was a bit interesting to you, just this morning, you were talking to a mystery roadie on the phone, and now she’s here, asleep beside you. 

“Goodnight, Bri,” she tells you softly.

But before your thoughts fully devour you, you close your eyes. Your tired-brain is piloting; you need sleep. And very soon after your eyelids close shut, you do, feeling Y/N’s chest rising and falling underneath your hands. You think this will make your relationship a bit complicated, but for the time being, all you can think about is getting some shut-eye.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

“Shut your mouth, Freddie!” you can hear in Deaky’s voice as the world begins to appear around you.

You lift your head bit, before realising the existence of the sleeping girl in your arms. She’s pulled one of your arms close to her chest, so you stay as still as possible. You look around to see Freddie, Deaky and Roger peering from behind the door, whispering to each other.

“Subtle, aren’t you all,” you comment sarcastically.

“What in your right mind made you decide to bring Y/N to bed?” Deaky asks you.

“I don’t know, Deaks. She was here; we were both tired; neither of us really cared.”

“Oh, forget that, how good was she?” Freddie questions, your eyes widen.

“What? Oh, no, Fred, we didn’t do that, she just slept next to me.”

“Just slept next to you? The two of you nearly look like you’re dating.”

As Y/N begins to stir, you all fall silent.

-+-Reader’s POV-+-

You wake to the sight of the four band members and the soft touch coming from the curly-haired figure beside you. As you regain your full consciousness, you see Deaky, Roger, and Freddie standing before the bed, and feel Brian around you, your arms wrapped around one of his. 

“I see the four of you have already arisen from your slumber,” you joke.

You begin to sit up, and Bri notices, retracting his arms so you can do so.

“Didn’t know you and Bri had gotten so close over just one night,” Roger remarks, nudging Deaky lightly and smirking ironically.

You laugh, unaware of the dialogue that had preceded your awakening this morning. 

“We both made a kind of mutual agreement that it was platonic, although I can see where you’re coming from,” you tell them somewhat groggily.

“Well, whatever it was, it was adorable,” Freddie comments, Brian shooting him a look as he does.

You begin to yawn, stretching your arms out and accidentally bumping Roger.

“Hey!” he responds, poking you back.

You return the favour once more, Rog inadvertently pushing Freddie as he tries to dodge you. Freddie takes this as a proposal of war. He attempts to pin Roger to the ground, but he escapes. He falls back, leaning onto the bed to catch his fall. 

“Let me get on your back,” Roger turns to Brian and orders him.

“Well that certainly escalated quickly,” he responds, but he sits on the bed so that Roger can mount his back.

“Quick, Y/N, get up here,” Freddie calls to you, patting his back, and you quickly do so.

“Onward, fool!” Roger exclaims to Brian, chasing you atop Freddie into the sitting room. 

Soon you and he are cornered by the tower of blonde and brown hair, causing Freddie to speedily head towards the kitchen. This time, Deaky follows him as well.

 He takes two fish slices, stops Brian and Freddie to hand you and Roger one, and says, “Fight fair.” 

Playfully jabbing at each other and laughing, you think to yourself.

I better never let these guys go. There’s no one else which with I could do this.

“Oh, I’ll get you for that, Bri!” you hear Roger growl playfully.

This goes on for almost half-an-hour, and at one point Deaky even joins in with a rolling pin. 

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

After you all tire yourselves out, the four of you collapse on the several pull-out beds. All you hear is the slight creaking of the bed and heavy breathing for several moments.

“That was a way to spend a morning,” Brian remarks.

“And a bloody fantastic one if I do say so myself,” Freddie replies.

“Well, I’m thinking of having some breakfast, I don’t know about you lot,” you say, slowly rising from the long-haired, sighing heap. 

“I think that sounds wonderful, just give me a minute,” John responds.

 Freddie flips over and makes one last tired attempt to tackle Roger, instead half-draping himself over his torso.

Roger pets his hair momentarily before sitting up and heading to the kitchen, “Alright, I’m making some food.”

“I think I’ll stay here for another moment or two unless you need help,” Brian adds.

“I’ll stay with Brian as well,” announces Freddie.

You follow Roger with Deaky to the kitchen, where Roger is removing eggs from the fridge.  

“I think I’ll make some rolls,” adds Deaky, pulling out a box of Sara Lee croissants.

“Then I’ll make the coffee,” you tell them. 

-+-Brian’s POV-+-

You watch the back of Y/N’s head disappear into the kitchen, and now you are alone with Freddie.

“So, Bri, what really happened last night?”

“For the last time, Fred, we just slept in the same bed because there wasn’t another one,” you tell him. 

“Alright, alright,” he says, smirking slightly with his hands raises as if he were to surrender, “but do you liiiiike her?” he speculates childishly.

“I mean, she’s quite nice, but just as friends, as I keep telling you.”

You had genuinely enjoyed last night, but you aren’t ready to reveal any of that.n In all honesty, you thought you may have initiated too much last night, but it seemed like Y/N hadn’t opposed, which relieved you. Freddie continues, “She unquestionably is lovely to be around, we’ve got to thank Deaks for finding her.”

“I agree.”

“Hey, Bri, can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“The boys and I think Y/N was dreaming about you last night.”

lil taglist: @yourlocalmusicalprostitute,

[thedrunkdoc]

Daydreaming

XIUMIN X Y/N

Genre: It’s safe to say that this is fluff with a little bit of Angst on the side.

AN: Here I am again after a very looong hiatus. Only this time, I won’t be serving you guys some steamy smut. I wanted to write something cute for Xiumin since I’ve been feeling giddy these days. I hope this gives you as much excitement as the smut one shots I’ve done.

Alsooo, try listening to EXO’s Heaven as the background music for this. ^_^

----------

Today was a perfect day for a trip to the amusement park. It was in the middle of autumn- not to hot and not too cold, just right. The ice cream cone that you were holding started to drip on your fingers sending you a signal that you have been staring at a father-daughter tandem for too long.

You couldn’t help it. The sight reminded you of someone. You watched intently as the father carried his sleeping daughter to the bench. Guess this girl had a fun day at the park. He held his hand up in the air to shield his girl’s eyes from the sunlight and you couldn’t help but smile as flashbacks appeared right before your eyes.

--

It was your final year in Uni and you wanted to be remembered as the girl with the best glow up. You entered the cosmetics store in hopes of going back to your dorm with a bag full of new makeup to try.

You scanned the lipstick aisle and started picking out 3 different shades of red. Red lipsticks were your thing. Although you’ve never actually gotten it smeared all over your face because of too much kissing, making out, and grabbing just like what the myths told you about your stay in Uni. But that was fine. At least you were still on your final year and you still had hope.

And if you could make out with anyone, you would have definitely picked Kim Minseok from the Theatre Club. He was two years ahead of you and he was in charge of the recruitment of new club members during the Freshmen Orientation. And you’ve only had eyes for him ever since which is why you joined the Theatre Club even if you didn’t even have any acting experience or whatsoever.

He always landed the male lead. Which meant he always had big roles and big scenes, some of them you’d rather not watch because a sudden pang on your chest would pull you out of consciousness. Not even exaggerating this part. You literally fainted the first time you saw him kiss the female lead during practice.

You’ve always worked backstage and you were okay with that. After all, your goal in joining wasn’t to actually be on stage. It was to keep a close distance between you and the love of your life who you knew would never be yours. He never even looked at you, not even once.

Come to think of it, there was actually one time. When you pulled a different lever sending the sandbags, holding the props in place, in the air and landing on the acting coach’s head and knocking him out. You could’ve sworn he smiled at you that time because the acting coach annoyed the living hell out of him.

You finished picking your new makeup and went straight to the counter so you could pay. You watched as the cashier punched in the items one by one while the other lady put it in a paper bag. “That will be 256 dollars.” She smiled.

You reached inside your bag for your wallet. And reached even deeper. And deeper…

You gave the cashier an awkward smile after you realized what a sticky situation you were in. “Is there something wrong?” She finally asked.

You were still looking for your wallet inside of your bag when a thought finally hit you. “I’m sorry. It seems like I forgot to take my wallet when I switched my bags today.” You said with a mix of concern and humiliation in your voice.

The two ladies exchanged a look that said I-KNOW-SHE-DOESN’T-HAVE-MONEY-AND-SHE’S-TRYING-TO-PUT-ON-A-SHOW. You hated being insulted like that. Because you had no love to protect, all of your sassiness went into protecting your pride.

You took your phone out and landed it on top of the counter. “See this? This is the new Note 20 Ultra. I’m gonna leave it here and go back to my dorm to get my wallet and come back to pay the price of the items I picked out and maybe even give you a tip even if you’re trying to insult me right now.” You turned your back on them and headed straight to your dorm.

You walked back inside the shop when you finally got your wallet and you were startled to see one of the two ladies approaching you. She was all smiles and it gave you the chills because you were certain you’ve seen that smile in a horror movie before.

“I’m sorry that you had to go back to your dorm, Ma’am.” She greeted you while handing the paper bag full of the cosmetics you picked out and your phone. “A young man came in just moments after you went out and paid for everything. He just told me to relay a message to you which is on your phone.”

I took a look at my phone and an on-screen note appeared.

“Bet you’re curious about who I am. Come and meet me at the coffee shop across the street. I’ll be wearing a gray hoodie. I’ll see you.”

Okay. His message definitely spiked up some creepy vibes.

Is he a stalker?

Is he a murderer?

Is he going to ask for sex because he paid for your makeup?

You clutched your chest tightly as you started to make your way towards the coffee shop he mentioned. You were scared about who he could be. But you were actually raised right so you knew that the right thing to do was give him back his money.

Thoughts were dancing inside your head. Panic started to kick in the moment your feet landed in front of the door of the café.

If he’s a bad person, he wouldn’t ask to meet at such a crowded place right?

Besides, the ladies were in such a good mood after seeing him. Maybe he’s got looks?

You pushed the door and stepped inside immediately eyeing someone wearing a gray hoodie. As you started to walk towards his table, another guy joins him which sent you to a cloud of confusion. It was only then that you realized that almost 50% of the people inside the café were wearing gray hoodies.

Was he trying to toy with you?

“One Caramel Macchiato for Y/N!” The Barista’s voice snapped you back to reality.

Wait. You just got here. How the hell does she know your name? And how could you have possibly ordered your favorite drink without you actually ordering it?!

You stood in place and watched as a guy stood up from his seat and claimed the drink.

The Barista’s face immediately lit up when he saw the guy standing in front of him. Now you were even more curious. You walked towards the guy and felt your soul leave your body when you finally found out who he was.

“Kim… Minseok?” You asked in disbelief.

He handed you the cup of coffee with a shy smile plastered across his face. He still looked like a squirrel when he smiled which sent you down memory lane. That same damned smile was what cajoled you into joining the damned Club where you humiliated yourself a couple of times.

You haven’t seen him ever since he graduated two years ago. You started forgetting about him when you quit Theatre Club right after he left. And you were doing fine.

Until you saw him again.

The lingering feelings that you tried so hard to erase and suppress for two years resurfaced. Your love for Minseok was like a fungal infection- it came back no matter how hard you tried to eradicate it.

You joined him at his table and sat across from him. You spent a good 10 minutes staring at him and trying to figure out why he’d do such a thing. Because no matter which angle you looked at it from, the puzzle pieces just don’t quite fit.

“Are you just going to keep on looking at me?” He asked with a slight chuckle at the end.

You still couldn’t believe your eyes. And even though you wanted to answer his question, you couldn’t fathom the right combination of words to say. Excited was an understatement. You were ecstatic. You finally saw him after two years. So why couldn’t you speak?

He took a sip of his coffee and leaned forward locking his gaze with yours. “Yes, I paid for your makeup.” He blurted out which sent your back to your seat, digging as deep as it can into the cushion.

You composed yourself and finally mustered up enough courage to speak. “Why did you do that?” You asked out of complete curiosity.

“After I graduated, I found out that girls pretend to be clumsy to get a guy’s attention because I’ve dated quite a few. I’m not that ugly, you know?” He sat back and looked outside for a moment before continuing.

‘This conceited ass.’ was all you could think of.

“I’m just kidding.” He suddenly took back what he said and you felt your muscles relax. “Truth be told, I found you really cute the day you knocked that annoying acting coach unconscious. You looked so scared.” He laughed at the memory.

“So?” You asked hoping for a decent response.

He cleared his throat. “It’s not that I didn’t see you. And it definitely wasn’t because I had noticed that you had the biggest crush on me that I never approached you.”

“Wow.” You responded as you felt your muscles tense up again. He knew? Yet he chose to ignore you all this time? His reason better be valid.

“I knew how important your studies were for you.” He finally blurted out which sent your eyes right to his gaze. He was sincere. You knew he was sincere.

“There was one time that I almost approached you. But I was too scared. I saw you walking to the library right after practice and I mentally made a promise to myself not to bother you until you graduated so I won’t be a distraction to you.” His words sounded like a symphony to you.

Was he somehow confessing?

“I tried so hard to avoid you, Y/N. But I can’t wait another year anymore considering the fact that you planned to buy so much makeup so must be trying to look pretty for another guy.” He shook his head slightly and you could see that his smile was slowly turning to a frown.

You felt your heart race. Adrenaline was pumping all over your body, making your hands a bit shaky. Butterflies were flying in all directions in your stomach and the smell of coffee didn’t help at all.

You held your hand up in front of your chest signaling him to let you talk. “Alright, hold up. First of all, I wear makeup to look pretty for myself and not for other guys. Second of all, I’m going to pay you back. Third-”

He cut me off. “I don’t want you to pay for those. I intended to buy something for you before showing up in front of you. But this is fate? I guess?”

“I’m still gonna pay for them. You know that, right?” You asked with eyebrows raised.

“Well, you can pay me in the form of kisses and cuddles.” He smiled. Again.

His smile melted you. His smile was your kryptonite. His smile dissolved all sense of rational thought left in you if there were still any. His smile made your knees a good kind of weak. And if you weren’t sitting, you’d probably be down on the floor, in the fetal position, while smiling like a dork.

“Kim Minseok, did you just confess to me?” You asked before letting out a sigh to mask the fact that you were enjoying this. Oh how the tables have turned.

“Confessions are for kids.” He stood up and held your hand and pulled you up so you’d be standing in front of him. “You’ve been mine ever since. I’m just claiming you now.”

He slowly lifted your chin up and the last thing you saw were his eyes closing as the distance between your faces became shorter and shorter until you could feel his warm lips on yours.

You could feel your face getting hotter and cheers from the people in the café drowned the sound of your heart beating so loud it could practically escape your chest at that very moment.

You had no choice but to pull away because you couldn’t suppress your smile any longer.

“Now I only owe you 255 kisses.” You said before pressing your lips together because there were no words to explain how happy you were.

“Let’s finish our coffee and head somewhere else… boyfriend.” You said as you picked up your coffee and started sipping.

“Boyfriend? I’m your fiancé, stupid.” He let out a cute laugh and you had to hold yourself back so hard to not tackle him into an unending cuddle.

--

“Well hello there, Angel.“ Minseok pulled you out of your daydream and gestured for you to walk towards them.

You finally sat on the bench beside your husband who was still shielding your daughter’s eyes from the sun as she slept soundly on Minseok’s chest. Your had to share your favorite pillow with your daughter now.

You licked the ice cream that was supposed to be for your daughter. “Give me some of that.” Minseok pleaded as he watched you devouring the soft serve in front of him.

“I don’t want to.” You said before sticking your tongue out like a little kid.

You’d been married to Minseok for 4 years and you were blessed with a daughter during your second year of marriage. But you were both still young at heart given the fact that he insisted on pushing through with the wedding just 2 years after you graduated. Acting like little kids when your daughter wasn’t watching was your own little way of keeping the romance alive.

“Do that again.” He said before cracking a mischievous smile.

You closed the distance between your faces and before you could stick your tongue out, his lips were already on yours.

“Hmm. Strawberry.” He licked his lips.

He caught you off-guard with that little peck. Specially because you were right in the middle of an amusement park and you were dead sure that a lot of people saw what he did. But it didn’t matter. You were married. And you couldn’t care less about what people thought about you because at least you were happy. You had a loving husband and a beautiful daughter. What more could you ask for?

“Y/N.” He whispered and you stared at him while waiting for him to continue what he was going to say. “I think it’s time for baby number two.”

You didn’t even have time to respond to what he just said. He pulled you to the car, careful not to wake your daughter up so she could be put to bed immediately when you get home.

“You know what?” You looked at him as he started the car. “Maybe I am in the mood for baby number two.” You playfully tugged on his hair sending him a signal that you weren’t kidding.

You smiled at each other and held your laugh so hard that you both turned into tomatoes.

“I love you, Y/N.” He muttered before giving you another peck on the lips.

“And I love you, Minseok.” You answered with a smile.

He started driving home and you knew it was going to be an exciting night.

Oh and the cosmetics you needed to pay back? You both lost count of the kisses you shared three weeks into your relationship. You could already imagine him sweating on top of you and you couldn’t wait to actually do the deed when you get home. But first, a warm bath.

[silyabeeodess]

Hey, Fusion Fellas: As heartbroken as many of us still are over the DMCA shutdown, it’s nice to see so many fans of the game continue to carry on in whatever way they can.  I’ve kept up with whatever news appears as much as I can, seeing the news spread and more people come together to find ways to enjoy something that was such a big part of their childhoods.  There’s some stuff I’d like to say, regarding my personal thoughts and what I plan to do since I know some of you follow me for my fanwork of the game.  The first half is largely negative so, if you like, you can skip over that: I’ll have things written in bold to mark where this starts and breaks off.  

I’m still angry at CN.  I know about the guy spreading lies to the network and I understand that they have to protect their IP.  That’s not what I have a problem with.  What I have a problem with is a multi-million dollar company targeting a harmless, fan project over a piece of their IP that they themselves have confessed they aren’t planning on doing anything with--effectively keeping it vaulted where no one is allowed to touch it: Targeting a group of devoted fans who’ve shown more love and care for this franchise and the fanbase (along with the shows its attached to) than their own hired creatives have.  Beyond a matter of law, this is a matter of respect--and CN has lost all of mine. 

Take a game like Undertale and its creator, Toby Fox.  You have a small team making a game that boomed in popularity, similar to FusionFall back in its hay-day.  The difference is people can still buy UT and the game continues through the AU that is Deltarune while there’s no possible way for fans of FusionFall to ever experience it without a server.  So how do these two separate creators--Toby Fox and CN--react to their fans?  Toby Fox says, “Hey fans!  Go make your fanart!  Make your fan games, so long as you don’t try to make money off of it.  You can even make your more mature content, just please tag it separately from the game’s official title.”  Here, you have someone at greater risk of financial loss; understanding that what the fans create, they create out of love; giving as much allowance as he can to the people that enjoy what he started.  Cartoon Network?  “Yes, we know you love this game and although we’re never going to touch it again, you can’t either. How about you watch our awful reboots instead?  We know you didn’t want them and that you don’t like them, so we’ll be sure to call you names and spit on you if you have anything negative to say about us.  Because we don’t actually care about you.” This is a company that doesn’t think of its fans beyond the dollar signs they see attached to them. The fact that they’ve apparently only addressed one person over the course of weeks despite the countless emails and messages sent to them regarding FusionFall is also terrible--like they’re waiting for people to give up so the whole issue can be swept under the rug, like they think we’ll simply forget.

That post I made before about this?  I still mean it.  Cartoon Network doesn’t respect us, so why would I want to support them? Moneygrubbing, Hollywood empire Disney has shown a better attitude toward people than CN has as of late--and I can’t stand a large bulk of what Disney’s done over the past several years!  Everyone can make their own choice regarding the company--I’m not calling for a boycott--but I’ve stopped watching their shows and I’ve cancelled my plans for purchases I was going to make for their newer merchandise.  Even if I could make a few exceptions for them, their behavior overall is too horrible for me to want to give them so much as a dime of ad revenue from watching a video.

Because of this, I’ll be perfectly honest, I don’t even feel like making fanart anymore or writing the headcanon posts I’ve been covering.  I’ve enjoyed them, but they have been always solely for fun and it’s hard to want to make anything when all that’s happened is on the forefront of my mind.  Part of what makes it so hard on a personal level is that I loved what Cartoon Network used to be--and admittedly does still exist in small fragments of their content now. The creatives that wanted to push the envelope for animation and storytelling: Not the trash banking on old shows and jokes that were dated the moment they uttered them in hopes of getting a cheap laugh because there’s nothing better on TV.  (Not even realizing how doomed for failure they are as things move toward streaming because then people can shift through the garbage that much easier.)  When I was a kid, I watched the PPG on a regular basis and Numbuh 5 from KND was the person I wanted to be.  In middle school, I planned my afternoon schedule around episodes of Total Drama Island and bounced on a trampoline while singing Are You CN This? like it was the top single of the year.  In high school, our theatre members’ turns backstage were shared watching Steven Universe.  Now, I feel nothing but bitterness and disappointment, like someone who’s lost a friend that changed for the worst.

So, how will this effect what I post?  I did have a bunch of stuff planned, but I keep going back and forth on what I want to do.  It’s hard to truly enjoy making stuff, as mentioned before, but at the same time I’ve never been one to drop anything easily (even if it takes me years to actually get something done, as some of you who follow me for other things already know.)  

Some of you may have noticed that I didn’t post a fic for last month’s prompt and haven’t posted any new prompts for this month.  I did start writing my story for April, but ended up leaving it hanging when everything hit. I don’t know about finishing it, and since I’ve been the only person working with the prompts from what I’ve seen, it seems pretty pointless.  Since I kinda began an arc with a few of them, I might try to at least wrap that up, but I just don’t know.

For the comic, since I already have some work done on what would’ve been the first chapter, I might go ahead and finish that.  (Just know that it’s several pages long, meaning it’ll still take some time to finish... and that you’ll need to be braced for wave of posts when its done.  It’s got about eleven pages now: I would have more done, but since I backtracked on the script to cover the tutorial rather than jump straight into a totally original plot as first intended, some of that stuff had to be put aside.)  Keep in mind thought that it really might be just that chapter.  Without the drive and with being so backed up on other projects--and since we don’t have the game to rely on for references as easily anymore--I just don’t know how long I could keep working on it.

With the headcanons, I could still do a fair amount of research to get those done, but it’s just not the same.  If I made more, the masterpost would still be updated; however, tags on the posts themselves would be limited to FusionFall rather than include the cartoons.  I don’t care about traffic: I don’t want any confusion from anyone thinking I’m supporting CN’s current work.  (Petty? Most likely, but at least there’s no question where I stand.)

Even if I don’t post as much FusionFall stuff, people are still free to send me asks about the game. So long as the asks follows the terms I’ve set up for my blog, it’s perfectly fine.  I’ll try to answer them as usual.  

Overall, at least for now, expect these posts to wane: Not dropped entirely, but definitely less frequent.  I’ve said it multiple times already: I just don’t know.  I’m upset that the game’s gone.  I’m upset at those involved for its shutdown.  I’m upset at those who don’t care about the fans and those who act like the fans are wrong for caring.  I’m upset at those in the community going at each other’s throats when people are trying to salvage the fanbase as much as they can.  The whole thing is just plain sad and I don’t feel like there’s much I can do except sit at my desk, pick up my pen, and push myself to do what I’ve always done: Focus on my work. 

[dragonsaphirareads]

Winding Strings

[justwinwin]

Jealousy | Han Jisung

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Genre: Angst and Fluff

Description: Jisung gets jealous as he watches you on stage performing with your girl group. He wants to be the reason why you’re smiling and he misses you so much because you never have enough time for him. 

Word Count: 1.8k

Jisung: Hey baby, you busy tomorrow? Wanna go out to eat dinner?

Y/N: Aw I would honestly love to, but I’ve got practice running late for the rest of the week. I’m sorry :( raincheck?

Jisung: All good, let me know when you’re not busy. I love you.

Y/N: I love you too :)

-

Jisung: Hey, can I call you? Haven’t heard your voice in so long :/

Y/N: I’ve missed you so much baby ☹ with preparations for the show coming up, my group is in so much stress. Maybe later on before I go to bed?

Jisung: Alright, I’ll talk to you then. I love you.

Y/N: I love you too, don’t wait up on me though, I might get back from practice late.

Jisung: Ok.

-

You were backstage preparing to go on stage with your group as a special guest at an award show. Usually, you’d be calm and collected during performances but this one was different. Your group were performing to a whole new different crowd with some of the most recognised idols in the industry, some of them being the idols you looked up to as a child. Nervous was a big understatement. You looked around the busy backstage area watching the staff rush around with headsets on shouting out orders to other people. The other girls in your group were lingering around either getting makeup and hair touch-ups or warming up. It was obvious that you were all extremely tense, this being the biggest stage you would have performed on since your debut less than six months ago. Being a relatively new group meant there were high expectations for your group to shine and be a fresh new performance.

At a moment like this, the only person you really wanted to be with was Jisung, your boyfriend. He knew exactly how to settle you down and comfort you. Knowing the right words and holding you close to keep you from falling apart. But right now, you knew he was one of the many people in the crowd and so you had to put on your best performance. There was only a short amount of time before you’d be called on stage, your nerves intensifying.

“Girls, let’s huddle around,” Eunha, the leader of your group, called out. The other girls created a circle and turned their attention to her.

“I know exactly how you all feel right now. Out there are over thousands of people, all eyes will be on us. We all are amazing, and we are confident, do not let the number scare you, yeah? Stay strong girls, we’ve got each other’s backs,” Eunha spoke with sureness and determination. But you couldn’t help yourself but to drown out her words and think about the only boy you wished were with you. You so badly wanted to run and hug him, you missed his comfort after not seeing him for almost a month. Preparations for this performance and getting ready to release a new song meant that there was little to no time for you two to spend together. Not only were you busy, but he too was busy with promotions with his group. But you missed him so much. You felt so terrible when he’d reach out to try and have a conversation with you and you’d have to stop it early due to practises or meetings.  Even when all you wanted was to hear his voice, to hear him say your name, to listen to him sing you to sleep. You missed him.

“Ready?” Eunha shouted and the rest of you and the girls brought your hands in the middle of the group and shouted out your chant.

“Alright, let’s go, we’re on in thirty.”

You walked by the stairs that led up to the stage and waited with the other girls, you squeezed your hands together hoping to calm your beating heart.

Jisung, on the other hand, was desperately trying to find you. He knew how important this performance was for you and your group. He knew just how you would be feeling, and he wanted to see you face to face to make sure you were aware that he was by your side and he was supporting you.

The past few weeks were hard for him, he missed you so much his heart ached.

Finally, he sees you standing there, his breathing stopped. He could never get used to your beauty, and how you held yourself. He thought you looked like an angel in your stage outfit. Your hair styled nicely. Jisung couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Shaking himself out of his daze, he pushed past a security guard asking him what he was doing. He called out your name and at first, you didn’t hear. But when he repeated it, you looked at him and a smile instantly broke out on to your face.

“Jisung,” you say in surprise and made your way towards him while he did the same.

“Y/N,” Eunha spoke, reminding you that you were seconds away from going on stage. You ignored her and continued on walking towards Jisung. Unfortunately, the MC’s of the night had already announced your group and before you could reach Jisung, you were already being pulled away and pushed on stage. Jisung had no other choice but slump in disappointment and watch you walk away from him.

He walked over to side stage and watched you from behind the curtains. A funny feeling settling in his stomach. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was jealous. Something he hated feeling. He loved you so much and wanted what was best for you. Being on stage was what made you happy, but he wanted to be the one to make you happy. He wanted to be the reason why you smiled the way you did when you were performing. He wanted to hit himself for feeling this way because you had done nothing but be the best girlfriend he’d ever had. He was extremely proud of how far you had come, and he’d always been there for you. Now watching you do things on your own, making a name for yourself, he couldn’t help but feel so out of place and unnecessary.

Just before your performance ended, Jisung couldn’t keep his emotions in control anymore and so he left. He sat back where the rest of his members were, and Chan could tell something was up but didn’t feel that it was the right time to ask. As soon as the award show ended, instead of waiting up for you, Jisung made sure that the members left as soon as possible. Informing them that he felt sick and did not want to stick around any longer.

You were really upset that you were unable to catch up with Jisung before he and the other boys left. You had planned on inviting his group out to the celebratory dinner your group was holding for your performance. And as you messaged him, he said he was too tired and was already preparing to go to bed.

-

Two days later and you hadn’t heard from Jisung and decided on messaging him to make sure he was alright. You were slightly disappointed that he hadn’t said anything about the performance.

Y/N: Hey baby, how are you?

Jisung: I’m good, you?

Y/N: I’m alright, are you busy?

Jisung: No

Y/N: Is everything okay?

Jisung: What do you mean?

Y/N: I don’t know, you just seem a little distant.

Jisung: Sorry I’ve just been busy.

Y/N: Oh, fair enough. I guess.

Jisung: Yeah.

Y/N: Jisung, can I call you?

Jisung: Yeah

You rang his number and he answered straight away, “hey,” you hear him say and your heart leapt at hearing his voice again.

“Hey,” you replied back, with a little nervousness in your tone. A silent pause played out and the atmosphere became awkward.

“Can you please be honest, Jisung? Did I do something wrong?” you asked, clenching your eyes due to how vulnerable you sounded.

You hear a sigh at the other end of the call, “no,” he said.

“Then why does it feel like I’ve done something to upset you? Cause if I have, please tell me, I don’t want to be left in the dark.”

You hear another sigh and you were close to hanging up the phone because of how pathetic you felt.

“Jisung, please. What happened the other night? You just up and left and I haven’t heard from you since?”

Jisung remained silent, something that had fuelled your anger. After a long pause, almost making you hang up thinking he would never reply, he finally opened up.

“It’s not you, Y/N, I’m just stupid. I let my emotions control me and I acted out unreasonably,” he muttered honestly, although it was confusing you.

“Where is this coming from? What’s going on?”

“It going to sound stupid, well it is stupid. But I just got mad, okay? I let my jealousy get the better of me and I had to leave as soon as the show was over to control my emotions.” Jisung’s voice cracked and you could tell how hard it was for him to say all of this.

“Jealous? Of what?” You asked incredulously.

“I don’t know, I’m so pathetic. I guess, I just felt so out of place and we just haven’t been seeing each other for a while. Please don’t hate me when I say this, and I know it sounds so insane but seeing so happy up there made me jealous because I wanted to be the one to make you happy. I just missed you so much and it felt like I was losing you. I don’t want to lose you, I love you so much. I hate myself for feeling like this and for ignoring you and for being a terrible boyfriend. I should have supported you, I should have been there to congratulate you. I’m so sorry, I’m rambling.” Jisung stopped talking and it felt like you could hear his heart beating through the speakers on your phone.

You felt terrible that Jisung was feeling this way, your eyes began to water, and you wished you were with him at this moment to comfort him.

“Jisung, that’s crazy. You make me so incredibly happy. Please don’t ever feel like that. I would not be performing right now if it weren’t for you. You are the reason why I love to perform. I love you so much and I don’t want you to think that you’re losing me. I don’t ever want to leave you, I have never thought about it and I never will. I totally understand that you allowed your emotions to control you that way because we’ve all been there but I just want to assure you that I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours forever okay? You make me so happy and I could not ask for more.”

“Can I come over?” he asked after a few seconds of silence. You agreed straight away knowing that being in each other’s arms was the only thing you both needed right this moment.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Modern Valdo x Reader Part 3 (Angst)

A/N: A sequel to this fic. Let’s be real, this is a series now. I’m going to keep going and cannot be stopped.  I’m going to need a series title or something to refer to this as besides “Modern Valdo.” Also specifically Modern Valdo fics are a requestable thing now. Just decided that. Or like if you want there to be a taglist, let me know? Self-prompted from this list because I wanted the sting.  Word Count: 2975 Content Warnings: language; mild substance abuse; blood/injury

You had been living with Valdo for three weeks now, though it often feels like the situation had been forever, dancing on a wire’s edge, neither willing to be the first bring up that night, too afraid of what might turn out to be nothing in the harsh light of day and logical thought. Still you fell asleep most nights (and woke up some mornings) in each other’s arms, in one sleeping place or the other.

Every apartment you looked at, he found flaws that meant it “wasn’t good enough.” Your things from the place you had shared with Karla took up residence with you or were safely tucked into a secure storage unit that he’d insisted on helping you pay for. You had keys to his place and a parking pass for the garage. He regularly dropped you off and picked you up from work, and you’d get dinner or go to a show. When he had a gig, you were the only person allowed in his dressing room besides him, a surprising expansion of your already extensive backstage access.

“You two are just the picture of domesticity aren’t you?” Lukus joked after a show one night when you had greeted Valdo with a grin and a hug as he stepped off the stage.

“Never thought I’d see Valdo Marx settle down,” Mara added, nudging him with an elbow after you’d gone back to the bar to get drinks for everyone, as had become habit. “It looks good on you.”

“It’s not like that. You know we’re just mates. And Y/N deserves a better man than I could ever hope to be,” he sighed.

“Ugh, you are so whipped man,” Mara clapped Valdo on the shoulder. “Save that sappy shit for the album.”

“What ‘sappy shit’?” you asked, returning with two beers and whiskey sours, just as always, curious to what his bandmates might be teasing Valdo over.

“It’s nothing, Y/N,” he said, smiling as he took one of the cocktails and resisting the urge to kiss your cheek in thanks.

“Hey, Y/N,” Lukus said suddenly, startling you with how close he was now standing. “Wanna grab dinner next Saturday?”

“Um, sure. I love hanging out with you guys,” you said, slightly confused.

“No sweet cheeks, not the group, just you and I. As a date.”

“O…oh…” you blushed, staring down at your shoes as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world, missing the smug grin he sent Valdo’s way or the answering icy, murderous stare. “Um…sure…that might be…nice.”

If you were being honest, you had never considered Lukus as your type (his blondish hair and blue eyes and very squared face were often called conventionally attractive but you just found them boring) or someone you knew very well, but maybe a date would change that. And you were starting to get sick of waiting for Valdo to make a move when the ball was in his court. So maybe you could get over it and just go back to being friends. That was probably for the best anyway.

“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something sexy for me.” He waggled his eyebrows at you with a smirk and you rolled your eyes.

~

Just like that, the peace of the apartment was broken, and the week passed in tense moments and frosty silences. Both desperate to bridge the chasm that had formed between you and genuinely wanting his advice, you walked out to the living room to find him sulking and cuddling a pillow and pointedly ignoring you.

“V,” you sighed. “I don’t know what I’ve done to upset you this week, but I could really use your help. You’re the only one I trust for this.”

He sighed and rolled his upper body to face you, but said nothing.

“I’m going to take that as an agreement because it’s the most you’ve acknowledged me all day. I don’t know Lukus that well or what he might be planning for this date thing. What do you think I should wear?”

His eyes, still rimmed in yesterday’s royal blue eyeliner, narrowed. “Something light colored, that way you can find it on his floor in the morning,” he snarled before flopping back over to face the back of the couch.

“Excuse me?!” you stared at him in complete disbelief. You had not inherent problem with the idea of potentially sleeping with Lukus on the first date but the implication in his tone that it was expected or guaranteed both confused and offended you.

“You heard me,” his voice was muffled by the cushions but you still caught its sharp edge.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

You watched his shoulders rise and fall in a dramatic shrug. “You’re not the first person Lukus has ‘dated,’ Y/N. I just know how he does things. He’s not a long-term, take home to the family guy.”

“So what? You think just because you’ve only seen him have one-night stands in the past, that there’s no chance I won’t sleep with him?”

“You asked for my advice. I gave it. Now you should probably go get ready, you wouldn’t want to be late for Prince Charming’s arrival.”

“You’re being a dick.” You hated the tears that sprung, unbidden, to your eyes and the waver of your voice.

“Yeah well, you’re going on a date with someone else. So you’re not blameless in this pain sweetheart.”

“If you have something to say Valdo, say it to my face. But if this is supposed to be your way of telling me you have feelings for me, it’s pretty shit.”

Silence hung over you for a minute before ever so slowly he shifted to face you properly, sitting up and resting his elbows on his knees.

“I do have feelings for you, Y/N. And I thought…maybe there was a chance you felt the same but…”

“Why now? Three weeks ago, I asked you to kiss me. You rejected me that night, and you haven’t said a word since. What was I supposed to think?” You made a gesture of surrender. “So I gave up waiting for you, and now you’ve decided to say something?”

“If you really meant what happened that night, you’d have waited longer than three weeks.”

“That’s a selfish attitude V.”

He shrugged.

“I can’t deal with this right now.” Turning, you stormed off back to the little office space where you had been keeping most of your clothes since moving in, waiting until the last possible moment to apply your makeup for fear that more would be said and it would start to run.

~

You felt terrible. The date with Lukus was on its second hour, and while it was just dinner at a little Italian restaurant (you appreciated that he had found a mom-and-pop place instead of a chain but suspected it was more for the hipster cred than any real devotion to helping small business), it should still have been your focus. Or he should have. Even if he was unfortunately dull and you had nothing of substance in common.

Instead, you kept playing Valdo’s words over and over in your head. The two of you had been friends for years, meeting by chance when you were put in the same orientation group your first day of college. You quickly became thick as thieves and knew every detail, the good the bad and the ugly, of each other. Or at least, you thought you did. But even knowing that he had a temper and an ego which hardly ever combined into something good, you hadn’t expected him to be so cruel.

“So, Y/N,” Lukus said, voice cutting through your thoughts as the waitress came to collect your check.  “Do you want to get out of here? I’ve got…beers and stuff back at my place…”

You smiled apologetically and shook your head. “I’m not much of a beer girl,” you said ruefully. “And I’m afraid I won’t be very good company. It’s been a weird week and I’m not really…feeling it. I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “That’s fine. Shit happens. I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Thanks. And I did enjoy tonight,” you lied, feeling an odd lack of guilt.

~

When Lukus idled his old blue sports car in front of Valdo’s building, a strange sort of tension seemed to hang inside the vehicle. Your hand rested on the handle of the passenger door as you tried to think of the polite way to end the disaster of a date.

“Can I, I dunno, kiss you or something?” Lukus suddenly asked, and you shrugged.

“I suppose I don’t see why not.”

He grinned, the dopey, excited expression reminding you of an overly eager retriever offered a bone. The lips that pressed against yours were chapped and damp from being licked nervously during the drive. The whole thing was awkward and uncomfortable and you broke away as soon as it no longer seemed excessively rude.

“Right…well…goodnight?” you said, moving to exit.

“Yeah. Goodnight. I’ll call you or something.”

You nodded, although you frankly couldn’t care less if he did or not. You only hoped that it wouldn’t make things problematic at the next show. The entire thing had been a mistake. Still, you offered a little wave back over your shoulder at him when you reached the front door. There was no reason to be rude about it.

~

Every nerve was on edge as you took the elevator up to Valdo’s (and your? You still weren’t sure where that really stood) seventh floor apartment and you couldn’t pinpoint the reason. Sure, you were still upset over the fight the two of you had, but it shouldn’t have caused such a pit of foreboding in your stomach, should it?

The door wasn’t locked when you pushed it open, which meant that he hadn’t gone out for the night. You couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not.

“Hey, V,” you called out as you entered. “I’m back. Can we…I dunno talk or something?”

There was no answer from the darkened apartment. You reached over to flick on the switch by the door and gasped.

The room was a disaster. Several bottles, and worse candy wrappers, littered the floor and coffee table. At least one dripped dark liquor and dissolving sugar onto the braided rug. Valdo’s shoes, socks, three coats/jackets, and several pairs of pants (none of which were the ones he’d been wearing earlier) were festooned like crepe paper streamers. A straightening iron smoked and singed against the spine of the cheap romance novel, left open on its face with pages rumpled beneath it, that it sat on.

You paused in your inspection to unplug the fire hazard with a soft curse.

The couch looked like someone had flipped it and ransacked it for loose change, though the lean-to of other pillows and assorted blankets suggested more likely that it had been the foundation of an attempted pillow fort. The sight of that made your heart flip. You had seen Valdo build such a structure on two previous occasions: once when his grandfather, one of the few members of his family that truly encouraged his artistic pursuits for enjoyment rather than potential profit, had died, and the other when the band’s first EP received a rather public review from a respected music site that called it “trite, lethargic, and miserable.”

“V?” you called again, softer and hesitant now as you approached the plush hidey-hole. Something crunched under your heel and you stepped back to reveal the now semi-powdered remains of a Thin Mint, which you knew for a fact there weren’t any of in the house (or hadn’t been earlier in the afternoon).

A groan was your only answer.

“You’re worrying me now. So please tell me a) that you’re alright, and b) where you found a Girl Scout with cookies on hand on a random Saturday night? And maybe c) that you did not mug said Girl Scout?”

When you did not get a response, you sighed, dropping onto your knees to crawl under the silky silver-grey sheet that seemed to form the ‘door’ of the textile fortress.

“I swear to god V…” you growled, feeling just a tiny bit ridiculous. Until your eyes fell on his prone form.

His shirt rumpled up, exposing his back. He was wearing no shoes and had somewhere lost a sock (by the look of the remaining one, black with thin purple stripes, it was also not obvious among the ones strewn about the room outside the pillow fort’s protective wall). And his hair, his poor gorgeous hair. About half of it had been forced stick straight; if you breathed deeply you thought you could still detect the singed smell in the air. Several sections were noticeably shorter than they should have been.

Gently you nudged him and he sat up groggily before flopping like a puppet with cut strings and falling onto your shoulder.

“Hello Y/N. Lovely Y/N,” he slurred, emerald eyes staring blearily up at you. He slung his arms around your waist. “You came back.”

“Of course I came back,” you teased, keeping your voice light even as you noticed the dishtowel wrapped around his hand and the distressingly large patch of red on it.

“I thought you’d go home with…him. I didn’t want you to.”

You swallowed and sighed, not wanting to rehash the argument from earlier, especially while he was so drunk.

“Nah,” you tried to seem flippant. “He was a bit boring to be honest. And I shudder to think what you would have done without me.”

“Died.” His face was quite serious as he said it and your heart clenched momentarily.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’ve survived this long without me.”

“But I didn’t live. I needed you for that. I love you.” He rolled his head to press sloppy kisses to the shoulder he rested against and you pushed him away from you, trying hard not to panic.

“Valdo, you can’t just say shit like that. I know you’re drunk but Gods… is that really how you feel?”

You left him sitting there as you climbed back out of the pile and began carefully disassembling it around him, one eye watching to make sure his drunkenness didn’t cause an injury.

He nodded floppily. “I don’t like it, but it’s true. I realized it tonight. Or not tonight. I can’t remember.” He seemed intent on braiding his fingers together as he spoke.

The motion calls your attention back to the towel. “What happened there?”

“Oh! That I remember. I dropped a wine glass and it shattered. I cleaned it up and the glass cut me. It’ll be fine.” He waved dismissively and you rolled your eyes, quickly going to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for first aid supplies.

You sat cross-legged in front of him. “Give me your hand.”

“In marriage if you want.” He thrust it at you and you tried not blush at the soft look on his face.

Carefully, you unwound the towel and he winced with a hiss but did his best to remain unmoving. You inspected his palm with a frown; it looked like he had basically shredded it on the glass, but luckily there didn’t seem to be any shards remaining. You cleaned the cuts as gently as possible and the pair of you sat in silence. Several of them looked like they might be deep enough to need stitches, but you were uncertain. You layered gauze over them, pressing gently despite the pathetic, pained noises he made while you wrapped it. It would need to be checked again in the morning, when he was hopefully sober enough to decide for himself to seek treatment.

“What happened tonight Valdo?” you asked when you finished, still holding his hand between both of yours. “This isn’t you. Not normally.”

“I lost it,” he shrugged. “You left and I started drinking and then…I dunno.”

“It wasn’t like I was never coming back. Are you trying to say that I’m that much of your impulse control these days?”

He growled and yanked his hand away, standing wobbily and starting to pace stumblingly.

“Don’t you get it, Y/N? I’m in love with you and it scares the hell out of me. And then you left with him and it broke my fucking heart. So I tried to numb it.”

“V…I…” you shook your head. “We should talk about this tomorrow. When you’re sober.”

“Are we going to? Or is this going to be another thing of us just pretending it never happened. Because I can’t,” he slumped into a sob on the edge of the couch frame. “I can’t do this. I don’t want to lose you. But I also don’t want to keep pretending this isn’t how I feel.”

You stood and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, letting him press his face to your middle as he continued to cry.

“I promise, on my life. We will talk about this in the morning. For real, talk. Or afternoon more likely because you are going to be hungover as fuck.”

One hand came up to brush gently through his abused hair as you held him until the sobs slowed to gentle sniffling.

“Now, let’s get you to bed, and then I can clean up from Hurricane Marx,” you smiled softly at him and pulled him to his feet, leading him to the bedroom.

He flopped onto the mattress and gently you coaxed him onto his side, sitting next to him and rubbing small circles on his back until you were confident by his gentle snoring that he would be okay. Then you shook your head ruefully and stood once more.

“What a mess,” you muttered.

[freddiesaysalright]

My Man

A BenHardy!Roger Taylor x Reader Fic Part I

Summary: Reader is a Broadway actress currently starring in a West End production of Funny Girl. She’s a widow, thanks to the Vietnam War, but it’s a well-kept secret. She also wants everyone to think she doesn’t care for rock music. She meets Roger Taylor when he brings his date backstage.

Word Count: 2.7k 

Tag List: @bohemian-war (Thanks for beta reading!) If you’d like to be added, let me know! 

Also, I apologize! Somehow the original post got deleted! I’m re-doing it now and hopefully Tumblr won’t be stupid. 

Here’s Part I again!

You ran your brush through your hair just once more. The wig cap always left it flat but frizzy in a way that you had to carefully tame it before twisting it up into your usual bun. You swept your bangs behind your ear and then heard a knock at the door.

“Y/N, ma’am?” the security guard called from the other side. “The VIP guests are here.”

You sighed. Your director told you there was going to be a “special guest” at the show tonight who would be visiting the dressing rooms with their date. He didn’t say who it was, only that “you’ll know him when you see him.”

“Show them in,” you said, getting to your feet and facing the door.

The security guard pushed it open and you sucked in a quiet breath. The last person you ever thought would come to Funny Girl on West End was Roger Taylor, drummer for Queen. You didn’t recognize his date, though. When you saw his expression, you narrowed your eyes. He was clearly bored. He looked at your dressing room the way school children looked at a history museum.

“You did wonderful tonight!” the date squealed, breaking your thoughts. “I’m such a fan! I’m Jackie,” she added, offering her hand.

You smiled warmly as you shook it. “Y/N Y/L/N,” you said. “I’m glad you enjoyed the show.”

“It was amazing,” Jackie insisted. “Wasn’t it, Rog?”

At last he looked at you. Something shifted in his eyes as you met his gaze. You knew that look. Men like him had been looking at you like that since you were fourteen.

“Yeah, it was brilliant,” he said with disinterest. “You’ve got a helluva voice.”

“Thank you,” you returned. “And you are?”

He blinked in surprise. You held back a smirk as you watched him struggle with not being recognized. You certainly had his attention now.

“You don’t know?” Jackie questioned with a gasp. “This is Roger Taylor!”

“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that name,” you lied. “What do you do, Mr. Taylor, that makes you a name I should know?”

“I’m a musician,” he said, irritation furrowing his brow. “In a band. Queen, actually.”

“You must have heard of Queen,” Jackie pressed.

You shook your head and smiled innocently. “I haven’t.”

“We’re on the radio,” he said, almost incredulous.

“They’ve been on television too,” Jackie added.

“I must have missed you,” you said with a shrug. “Although I’m sure you’re very talented.”

You knew you were being condescending but you couldn’t stop. His attitude and his looking had rubbed you completely the wrong way and you wanted to punish him for it. He glared and you and you tried not to look smug.

“They’re great,” Jackie said, oblivious to the growing tension. “I mean, they can’t do what you just did, but they’re a great band.”

He glowered at her and you turned away so he wouldn’t see you laugh.

“Right, we’ll be going now,” he spat, taking her hand and leading her out of the room.

“It was wonderful to meet you!” she called, and you waved, before Roger slammed the door behind them.

“Thank God that’s over,” you huffed, returning to your seat in front of your mirror.

You carefully opened the vanity drawer and retrieved your two most cherished items - your wedding ring, which you slipped onto your finger, and the wallet-sized picture of your husband, George. You always thought he looked so handsome in his uniform. The eagle, globe, and anchor of the US Marine Corps suited him so well. You ran a shaky finger across the portrait and felt your heart ache.

“I met your idol tonight,” you said softly as your throat got tight. “I was kind of a bitch to him, too.” You let out a small laugh. “I wish you could have seen it.”

You gazed at his frozen smile and wiped a tear threatening to leak from your eye. Finally you stood and retrieved your coat. You slid the photo in your pocket. Donning your performance smile, you left and headed for the stage door to sign programs and greet the audience. Your show was not quite over yet.

*****  

The incident of Roger Taylor had bothered you for a few days. You wondered if you were being needlessly petty, but you quickly dismissed the idea. If he hadn’t acted the way he did, you wouldn’t have felt so defensive. Just when you were starting to forget about it, it happened again. Only this time, you had no warning until moments before he entered your dressing room. He seemed in a hurry.

“Well, Mr. Taylor, I can’t say I was expecting - ” you began, but he cut you off.

“Listen,” he said. “I need you to pretend last week never happened.”

“Why?” you demanded.

“I don’t need this date to know I had another date here,” he explained. “Trying to be romantic and all that. I did not realize musicals made women so...willing.”

You frowned at him. “Why on Earth should I do this for you?”

He shrugged. “Just to do a guy a solid? Sure, last time, you kind of pissed me off, but I got a great shag.”

“Mr. Taylor, I want you to know that as of now there is no one in the world who has a lower opinion of you than I do.”

“I can live with that,” he returned, smirking. “The feeling’s mutual since you’ve got no taste in music.”

“Excuse me?!”

“You don’t even know who Queen is!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “I didn’t realize Queen was the pinnacle of musical achievement! How silly of me! What is Mozart or Irving Berlin compared to the likes of Queen?! After all, they’ve been on television!”

“There’s no need to have a go at Jackie, she’s a sweet girl,” he said, laughter spreading across his lips.

“Not sweet enough to have for more than one night, apparently,” you spat. “I can’t believe you’re not taking these dates seriously. A West End ticket is a rather expensive way to just get laid.”

“It’s worth every penny,” he said.

You opened your mouth to retort, but an interruption appeared in the shape of a woman who must have been his date.

“Sorry!” she cried. “I got lost on the way back from the loo.”

“No worries,” Roger assured her. “Donna, this is Y/N Y/L/N.”

Donna took your hand before you could offer it and shook it with such enthusiasm you nearly lost your balance.

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” you said kindly. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“Oh, yes!” she sighed. “You sang so beautifully. Especially ‘My Man.’”

You looked down and smoothed your skirt. “It is a very emotional song.”

“How do you manage it?” she asked.

You smiled at her. “It’s a simple trick, really. I sing it to my husband.”

“You’re married?” Roger asked, genuinely stunned.

“I am, Mr. Taylor,” you said and felt the hot tears pricking your eyes. “I see that shocks you.”

“It does, a bit, yeah,” he admitted.

“Is he here?” she wondered.

You shook your head and blinked back the emotions. “Not tonight, I’m afraid.” You waited a beat and then took a deep breath. “Would you like me to sign your program?”

“If you don’t mind!” she accepted, and handed it to you gratefully.

You scribbled your name across the front and returned it to her.

“Thank you for coming,” you said.

“Thank you for the private meet and greet,” she replied.

“You ready to go, sweetheart?” Roger asked her. “She’s only got a few minutes before she’s got to be at the stage door.”

“Oh, sure, yeah,” Donna agreed. “Thanks again!” she said to you.

“Absolutely, Jackie,” you said, shooting a glance at Roger. “Oh, pardon me, Donna. So sorry.”

If looks could kill, Roger’s glare would have made you drop dead.

“No worries,” Donna said politely. “I know you meet loads of people.”

“You’re very kind,” you said. “Have a lovely rest of your evening, you two.”

She said one last goodbye, and Roger said nothing before storming out of your dressing room once again. You snickered, hoping you’d finally seen the last of him.

*****

The following week, you were just finishing your nightly talk with George when your director barged into your dressing room. You placed your picture on the vanity and whipped around.

“Gary, what the hell?!” you cried.

“It’s not just Roger Taylor tonight,” he said, breathless. “It’s the whole band! They want to meet you!”

You gaped at him. “Wh-but I don’t have time! What about everyone waiting outside?”

“Y/N, it’s Queen,” he insisted. “You go out the stage door with them, this show will get more publicity than we could even hope for. Especially if they liked it!”

“Funny Girl doesn’t need the approval of a stupid rock band,” you said.

“I do hope that stupid rock band you’re referring to isn’t Queen, darling,” came a voice from the doorway. Its source was none other than Freddie Mercury. He was trailed by Roger, Brian May, and John Deacon.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks in shame. “I didn’t mean - ”

“Don’t take it personal, Fred,” Roger interrupted. “She hasn’t even heard our music.”

“Now that I do take personally,” Freddie teased, looking at you. “Why not?”

“It’s just not really my style,” you explained sheepishly.

It was one thing to lie to Roger to embarrass him in front of a date. It was another to say those things to Freddie Mercury, a person whose respect you’d like to have. You squirmed a little with discomfort.

You made proper introductions at last and they all complimented your performance. You told them how grateful you were for their attendance. Really, they were all very kind, but throughout the meeting, you felt Roger’s eyes on you. It took a lot of your resolve not to stare back and demand what he wanted from you.

“Well, darling, I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” Freddie said, looking at the clock. “But Roger just wouldn’t shut up about you, so we had to see what all the fuss was about.”

Brian and John chuckled as Roger looked away. The color drained from your face and you pretended to be suddenly interested in your nails.

“Would you like an escort to the stage door?” Brian asked.

“She’d love it,” Gary interjected before you could speak.

You shot him a glare, but complied. Then you noticed Gary and Freddie making hungry eyes at one another. You reached for your coat but Roger beat you to it.

“Allow me,” he offered, opening it for you to slide your arms in.

“Thanks,” you said stiffly as you shrugged it on with his assistance.

You turned back to grab George’s photo. After placing it in your usual pocket, you allowed the band to lead the way out the door.

“Oh, by the way,” Freddie said as you walked. “I’m having a fabulous party at my place tomorrow night. You simply must come, Y/N.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” you returned.

“She’s a married woman, Fred,” said Roger.

“So what?” Freddie returned. “Bring him along if you like.”

You didn’t answer. How you wished you could bring George. You wanted it so bad your chest tightened.

When you emerged from the stage door, all thoughts of your husband were erased by the onslaught of flashing lights and shouts of excitement.

“Is that Queen?!” “Oh my God!” “We love you, Freddie!” and more all blurred together in an amount of noise that could have knocked you off your feet.

A reporter you were familiar with caught your eye and you walked over. She was beaming as she kept looking past you at the band.

“Y/N, you know Queen?” she wondered.

“Not well,” you replied, yelling over the din. “We just met tonight actually! They liked the show!”

Freddie appeared seemingly out of thin air and spoke to the reporter.

“This girl is bloody brilliant, darling, and you may quote me on that,” he said with a cheeky grin. “One of the best on West End, and she’s not even English!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. He was infectiously charming. He kissed your hand before going to sign some autographs. A crowd began to form around the building as onlookers noticed who was there. The small crowd was becoming a swarm. Your heart rate picked up at the sight. You bid your reporter friend goodbye and started down the street. You slipped away unnoticed by the Queen fans.

Four or five people followed behind you. When you faced them, you saw they were people who had come to your show for you. You sighed with relief and approached them.

“Sorry,” you said as you signed the programs. “I don’t make a habit of running off, but it’s not about Funny Girl over there anymore, huh?”

They agreed and thanked you for stopping to talk to them. You loved your theater community. The masses of rock fans could never be your life. As you made your way back to your flat, the noise of the Queen frenzy dying behind you, you heard someone call your name.

“Y/N! Wait up!”

You turned and saw it was Roger.

“Mr. Taylor,” you said. “I’m surprised you made it out alive. Have your bandmates been devoured?”

“They’re big boys, they can handle it,” he replied, smiling. “Hope you’re not offended by the crowd. But you see now why I was surprised you didn’t know me - I mean, us.”

“Was that what all this was? To prove to me how popular you are?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. So, how come you were so much nicer with my friends around?”

You took a moment before you answered. With a wicked grin, you met his eyes. “Well, they’re just all so good looking, it would be impossible to be rude.”

He snorted. “Oh! I see how it is!”

“I hope you do,” you said with a laugh. “The truth is, you’re a lot nicer with your friends around, too.”

“Let me walk you home,” he offered. “As a truce.”

“If I say yes, will you stop bringing your dates to my dressing room?”

“I promise.”

“Very well, Mr. Taylor. You may walk me home.”

As you walked beside him, you felt a new easiness. Perhaps there was more to him than the womanizer you met before. Perhaps that was the show he put on.

[oohfluffy]

DDND Ch.13 | KJI

Group: EXO

Member: Kim Jongin

Theme: Fluff | Dancer!AU | Dormmmate!AU

Word Count: 2,194

❀ Chapter 13: Troublemaker Baby ❀

You woke up at 8 in the morning with a forming agenda in your mind. You quickly went to your own bathroom, brushed your teeth and put your hair in a messy bun.

It was Saturday.

Yep, the Saturday you were so excited to come. (Note the sarcasm)

After freshening up, you went back to your room and went out.

"Oh. Goodmorning, babe."

Your head immediately turned to the voice.

Kai just closed his door and walked towards you, of course, with his famous smirk.

"Y-Yeah. Goodmorning." You stuttered but quickly recovered as you turned your back towards him.

"Hmm." Kai hummed as he matched his pace with you, glancing at your face. You walked faster and reached the end of the stairs.

"You're up early today, huh?" You heard Kai commented as he followed you to the dining area.

You saw that Aunt Sunny made chicken soup for today's breakfast. You went to the fridge and grabbed a huge bottle of water before walking back to the table.

"Uh huh." You said as you sat down in front of him.

You started putting soup on your own bowl and then water in your glass. You started eating, casually taking glances at Kai.

"What the hell, Jongin." You muttered.

Kai just smirked, still staring at you as you eat.

"What? Is it wrong to stare at you?"

"Obviously yes." You snickered, shoving a spoonful of soup in your mouth.

"Why?" Kai asked teasingly as he continued observing you.

"Because I don't like it." You snapped at him before drinking water.

"But I like it, babe."

You shook your head, trying to deny that Kai's spell is working on you.

You thought of anything that you can talk about so it won't be this awkward.

"Oh!" You exclaimed as you remembered why you got up so early.

"What is it?" Kai asked, amused at you sudden outburst. He chewed on the chicken bits he got from his soup before grinning at you.

Why does he always look so seductive?

"I heard that DanWiMu is having its anniversary today?" You started as you placed your glass back on the table.

"Yeah." Kai nodded but tilted his head after. "How'd you know?"

"You know that Tiffany unnie is Sehun's sister, right? So, she told me." You explained.

"Ah."

You gulped. You really wanted to know about his performance with Seulgi but wouldn't that be suspicious?

YAH! Why would it even be suspicious? I'm friends with his partner, so asking would be okay... Right?

"Uhm." You cleared your throat as you looked at him. "You're performing?" You asked, trying to be casual about it.

Kai stared back in your eyes.

Is he trying to read my mind or something? Why is he looking at me like that? Oh my ghad why am I being so paranoid?

And then his lips curved into a smirk.

"Why are you suddenly curious, babe?"

You instantly looked away from his eyes. Your gaze dancing around the house, trying to find anything interesting.

"W-Well.. uhm.."

Your brain was in a mess.

You can even imagine your brain cells running around and bumping onto each other as they find a reasonable explanation.

As you fortunately found it, you looked back at him with a confident smile.

"Well, Joohyuk and Tiffany unnie invited me to go tonight. I was only asking if I'll see you perform..." You said, standing up with your bowl and glass.

"Really?" You heard the playfulness in Kai's voice. You turned your back on him and went to the sink.

"Really."

"Okay then. I'm actually performing with my friend."

Friend?! Daebak.

"Nice." You mumbled, quickly washing your bowl.

"You're not gonna ask who's my friend, baby?"

You almost choked on your saliva at Kai's sudden change of nickname.

Babe? Now baby? Are you trying to kill me now, Kim Jongin?!

"Why would I? I mind my own business, Kai. Please stop calling me—"

"If you don't ask then I'll tell you. Remember the one who I told you I'm meeting with last three days ago? Her name's Seulgi."

Blah blah blah.

You knew you were making faces as he spoke but you admit that you're jealous.

So jealous.

"She just came back from America. She's pretty, heck, she's even a good dancer. I think it's fate that she became my partner—"

You wiped your hands with a towel near you and walked towards the stairs.

"Really? Goodluck then." You said, waving your hand as you went back upstairs.

Kai watched as your figure was out of his sight with a frown but slowly turned into a smirk.

"Aish, what will I do to this girl..." Kai ruffled his hair as he started cleaning the table.

He knew everything.

After all, he wasn't a pole who can't feel anything.

He just hopes you watch him perform.

♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫

"Wow."

Joohyuk and Tiffany looked at you as if you grew two more heads.

"This is a miracle, Hyuk." Tiffany giggled while Joohyuk just rolled his eyes.

"I think it's just because of one particular dancer though." Joohyuk said, earning himself a flick on his forehead, although you needed to tiptoe and do it.

"Whatever." You mumbled before hopping in Joohyuk's car.

The two followed you in the car. Joohyuk at the driver's seat while Tiffany sat on the passenger's.

"Your mom's okay with you leaving her?" You asked as you carefully put on your lipbalm.

"Yep. My brother's there anyway, so it's fine." Joohyuk answered with a shrug.

Tiffany suddenly turned to you from her seat. You looked back at her with a bored face.

"So what made you change your mind, my dear?" She asked teasingly, her eyes turning into crescents as she grinned. You rolled your eyes.

"Nothing, unnie. Please sit properly."

"Aigoo. Our baby is growing already. Hyuk, what can you say—" Tiffany was cut off as Joohyuk turned the radio on, overpowering Tiffany's voice.

"Yah! That's mean." Tiffany complained, hitting Joohyuk's bicep.

"You're too loud, noona. Stop it."

Your lips just curved into a smile as you closed your eyes.

They're so noisy but I like it.

"Lin, we're here."

You opened your eyes, yawning in the process. You blinked several times before checking your haggard appearance.

"Aish." You mumbled as you brushed your wavy hair.

"Kaja!"

The place was packed.

People were talking, dancing, drinking and whatever you can do in there.

You flinched as someone bumped onto you. You looked at the teens wildly dancing and scoffed. You were about to open your mouth to tell them a lesson about manners when an arm wrapped on your waist, leading you out of the crowd.

"Don't ever try talking to wild teens, hamstie. I'm telling you, you'll be at the disadvantage."

Sehun made you sit beside his sister with a smile.

"Sehun." You greeted with a grin.

"You know, my brother's gonna perform later. I think he'll need a goodluck kiss." Tiffany cooed, nudging you to Sehun, who is currently standing beside you. You glared at her before turning to her brother.

"Well, goodluck, Sehun-ah. We'll totally cheer for you later." You said, making Sehun grin widely.

Your brows furrowed as he tapped his cheek.

"What?" You asked.

Tiffany just giggled as Joohyuk scoffed.

"I thought you're gonna give me a goodluck kiss, hamstie?"

Boom.

There goes your angry red volcano face.

"You want a hit, Sehun-ah?" You threatened with a frown. Sehun laughed as he pinched your cheeks. You tried to bite his hands but he was too fast.

"Okay, okay! Later then?"

You glared at him. Sehun raised his hands in surrender.

"Fine, fine. I'll go now. See you later, guys."

When Sehun was out of sight, Tiffany pouted.

"Why didn't you give my brother a treat? He would've been so—"

"Unnie, please stop being Cupid. I told you, right?" You said with a frown, making Tiffany shut up.

The lights went out, only leaving dim lights on the stage.

The music was turned off as people started going near the stage for the long-awaited performances.

Everyone was silent as a song started playing.

" La la la la la la "

You didn't know how many 'la's were said but 5 girls started dancing in front of the stage, a spotlight focused on them.

" nalkaroun Secret dulleossan yaegin beil soge jeomjeom deo gipeun H-H-Hush mameul gyeonweo ije "

Your eyes widened as you saw a familiar face.

Seulgi.

You also saw the two girl she was with before and another two unfamiliar girls.

Heol. She's really an amazing dancer.

As they continued dancing, Seulgi caught your eyes and winked. You just awkwardly waved with a smile.

You suddenly felt ashamed of your dancing skills.

You looked down on your legs and felt insecure with their thigh gaps.

Geez. What am I doing? So what if I've got no thigh gaps or good dancing skills?

Yeah sure, you don't care.

After their performance, the crowd hasn't calmed down yet when another group danced.

You just focused on your food and ate like there's no tomorrow.

Joohyuk was the one who noticed since Tiffany was ogling at the boys dancing on stage.

"Yah, you alright? Why do you eat like you haven't eaten for a year?" He asked, shouting over the music and screams of the crowd.

You just waved him off as you drank your lemonade.

The music stopped as the next performer gets on stage. Tiffany squealed, kicking you under the table.

"My dongsaeng!" She cheered, pumping a fist on the air. You quickly turned your focus to the person solo on stage.

Sehun was wearing a black cap, a shiny blue and red jacket with a white t-shirt inside, black ripped jeans and nice pair of kicks.

He's so stunning.

You just heard yourself screaming along with the other girls as Sehun started to move with the beat.

Sehun danced to a cool music with his sharp movements and graceful steps, the crowd was like a pack of wolves trying to fight for a huge meat.

You couldn't help but to feel proud of your buddy.

"THAT'S MY BUDDY!" You shouted, making Sehun's eyes turn to you despite the wild screams of the crowd. He winked as he did a hip thrust, in sync with the beat and ending his performance. The crowd shouted for more but Sehun just grinned and threw hearts to the audience.

"Oh goodness." You mumbled, leaning back to your seat. Tiffany wiggled her eyebrows at you as Sehun went back to the backstage.

"He totally went all out tonight! I think it's because of someone~"

You ignored Tiffany and just focused on the next performer.

"Why is it so dark?" You heard Tiffany whine. The place was pure black, even the only dim lights on stage was out.

"Is the electricity out?" You mumbled, grabbing your phone for light.

Your question was answered when the spotlight focused on the two figures, intimately close on stage.

"O. M. G." Tiffany whispered as she figured who was on stage with a girl.

And then the song that made you want to crawl back at home played.

As the first whistle was heard, you bit your lip.

Oh no. Not that song. Not that dance, please.

" 1! 2! 3! "

You knew you didn't want to watch them dance so close with each other, but your eyes just can't stop looking at them.

" ni nuneul bomyeon nan Trouble Maker "

Seulgi touched Kai's chest moving downwards as Kai just watched how her hands move while he's singing.

You were totally breathless.

You didn't even know Kai could fucking sing.

" ni gyeote seomyeon nan Trouble Maker "

Seulgi's voice was so sweet that you winced.

Or is it your jealousy acting up?

" jogeumssik deo deo deo "

Kai's eyes wandered around the place, finding yours in the process. You instantly looked away, Kai's gaze softened before returning to a seductive look.

" galsurok deo deo deo "

Seulgi's fingers tapped his chest.

Urgh. I want to go home. Me and my jealousy, yes.

" ijen nae mameul nado eojjeol su eobseo "

You don't want to know how they danced like a perfect couple.

You don't want to look how Kai looks into her eyes.

It would have been better if you didn't know about Seulgi's feelings.

It would have been better if you're not hurting.

Kim Jongin.

You're such a troublemaker.

You make so many troubles for my heart and mind.

You heard the crowd's cheer got louder when you silently stood up from your seat and put your head lower, so you wouldn't attract much attention.

You heard Tiffany's and Joohyuk's shouts but you just waved and went out of the place.

Why does my heart hurt so much just for that dance?

"Tss. Baby? Babe? Maybe you call her that way too. Friend my ass." You mumbled as you unconsciously wipe your cheeks where tears were streaming down.

What the heck am I crying for? I don't even have the right to do so.

—

❀ Ch.14

[wrestlingisfake]

The New Beginning in Osaka preview

Tetsuya Naito vs. KENTA - Naito is defending both the IWGP heavyweight and IWGP intercontinental championships.  He became a double champion on January 5, but before he could fully celebrate his big moment at the Tokyo Dome, Kenta blindsided him to ruin everything.  That doesn’t seem so sacrilegious from my perspective as an American fan, but the Japanese fans seem to really really despise Kenta, so I guess it works.

Naito is hardly the first person to hold two major-league championships at the same time, but it feels like it’s been a long time since a double champion put both titles at stake in the same match.  (The last time I clearly remember was Kurt Angle vs. Samoa Joe at TNA Hard Justice 2007.)  Since New Japan has actually made both titles feel very important, the significance of winning them both at once has not been lost in the storyline.  The question of whether Kenta truly “earned” this opportunity (since he’s coming off losing the NEVER title and was basically rewarded for beating up Naito) keeps coming up.

I’ve been watching these two in the tag matches they’ve had during the current tour, and I’m noticing that the action is pretty dull.  Kenta has really stepped up the mindgames of slowing down the pace to frustrate his opponent and the audience.  The problem is that Jay White (Kenta’s frequent partner and Naito’s last big opponent) does the same general stuff, and Naito is still doing it from back when he was a total heel.  I’m hoping this doesn’t become a slog like Naito vs. White, but signs are not promising.

It wouldn’t be totally ridiculous to put one of the top titles on Kenta.  But giving him both of them, right now, at the expense of Naito’s long-awaited push, coming off of him ruining Naito’s big moment, might be insane.  I can see Naito dropping one of his championships down the line, but if he’s going to lose both of them in a single match, it needs to be a lot bigger than this.  Naito will almost certainly retain.

Jon Moxley vs. Minoru Suzuki - Moxley’s IWGP United States title is on the line.  He regained the title on January 4 and successfully defended it on January 5, but then Suzuki suddenly appeared to issue a challenge.  Suzuki went on to pin Moxley on February 1, to cement his right to go after the championship.

On January 15, AEW ran an angle where Chris Jericho “stabbed” Moxley’s right eye, to build to their AEW championship match on February 29.  Moxley has been wearing bandages and/or an eyepatch over his right eye ever since.  For some reason I was surprised he used the eyepatch in his recent New Japan appearances.  I guess that’s because I thought the idea of fighting Minoru Suzuki with only one good eye is suicidal.  I suppose it’s no different than New Japan wrestlers competing with one shoulder heavily taped up.  But Suzuki projects the feel of being a legit fighter, which forces me to think about how Moxley would never be cleared for this fight if it weren’t totally fake.  

Logically, Suzuki should target the eye, get Moxley to the ground, and just grind his knuckle into the eye socket until the referee stops the match and awards him the title.  However, we’ve already seen them face off in a couple of tag matches on this tour, and they’ve mostly just done the same spots they’d do if the eyepatch wasn’t there.  Maybe they’re saving all that psychology for this show.  But I think it’s going to be tough to maintain Suzuki’s credibility as a sadistic shootfighter if he doesn’t at least pretend to shoot on the eye, and then it’d be tough to maintain the credibility of the match if he doesn’t win.  I suppose Moxley could overcome all the odds, but I’ve convinced myself that he shouldn’t.

Hiromu Takahashi vs. Ryu Lee - This is Takahashi’s first defense of the IWGP junior heavyweight championship since he regained the title on January 4.  Lee, as Dragon Lee in Ring of Honor, is the current ROH television champion, but that title is not at stake.  Interestingly, Takahashi is a member of Los Ingobernables de Japon, an official spinoff of Rush’s stable in CMLL, while Lee is a member of La Faccion Ingobernable, which Rush started in ROH after CMLL fired him.  New Japan has alliances with ROH and CMLL, so I’ve been real curious if/how they acknowledge that.

Obviously the story here is that this is the first meeting between these two since July 7, 2018, when Takahashi suffered a devastating neck injury from a botched dragon driver by Lee.  Hiromu managed to finish the match and retain the junior title, but he collapsed backstage and spent over a year recovering.  As soon as Takahashi recaptured the title, he requested Lee as his first challenger.

That last encounter in the Cow Palace would have been one of the best matches I’d ever seen, if I didn’t have to deduct points for “wondered if one guy died for a minute.”  Based on their history together, you’d figure Takahashi and Lee will pull out all the stops and have another wild intense flippy match.  Based on how worried everyone has been for the past 19 months, though, you’d expect them to gear down a little, especially against each other.  But it’s pro wrestling, and I’m pretty sure they’re counting on the audience being terrified of another accident, and they’re going to work a close call or two to scare us.  (Here’s a dragon driver spot from 2017, if you want to see the move done correctly, so you’ll know when to be afraid.)

I have mixed feelings on this one, because I’m not sure I want to see these two scare me to death, but they kinda have to do this rematch and I’d like to get it over with.  Assuming all goes well, it should be very good.  It’s just, well, we already know things might not go well.  I kinda have to pick Hiromu to retain, seeing as he already beat this guy with a broken neck.

Jay White vs. SANADA - I’ve forgotten if there was any particular reason these two are fighting.  As I recall Bullet Club faces LIJ on January 6 and White targeted Sanada for some reason. 

White obviously wants back into the heavyweight title picture, but the story is that he’s graciously tabled that so Kenta can chase Naito.  On the other hand, the story with LIJ is that they’re all a bit jealous of Naito winning two titles, and he wants them to keep him on his toes.  (As it happens, Sanada is currently the only man in LIJ without a championship, and there aren’t a lot of titles he can go after without challenging his buddies.)  They haven’t said the winner of this match will be the #1 contender for the winner of Kenta-Naito, but it would not shock me if that happens.

White’s whole deal is that he’s a prick that doesn’t care about having a fun match, and Sanada’s whole deal is that he always looks like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world.  So I’m not sure this combination is going to be all that exciting.  If Sanada does all his cool moves and dismantle’s White’s array of heel shenanigans, that’ll be great.  If he just falls for all the shenanigans like every other face (“oh, Gedo is standing on the apron, so I’d better completely ignore Jay while I see what that’s about”), I’m going to get pretty bored.

A win for Sanada would be a big push that would shake up the topcard, so I’m pretty sure Jay wins.

Kazuchika Okada & Will Ospreay vs. Zack Sabre, Jr. & Taichi - We already saw Okada vs. Taichi and Sabre vs. Ospreay earlier in this tour, so this is sort of a last look at those feuds.  (Although Ospreay has already secured a rematch with Sabre at a RevPro show next week.)  I’m sure the announcers will put over what a valiant effort Taichi gave in his loss to Okada, because New Japan is determiend to push him without putting him over anybody.  I’m thinking Okada will just pin Taichi again.

Tama Tonga & Tanga Loa & Yujiro Takahashi & Chase Owens vs. Juice Robinson & David Finlay & Hiroshi Tanahashi & Kota Ibushi - These guys are just back from the US tour, where the Guerillas of Destiny (Tonga and Loa) won the IWGP heavyweight tag team title from Robinson and Finlay.  Tanahashi and Ibushi seemed to be trying to get in line for a tag title shot, but things got messed up when Ibushi had to miss the whole US tour.  Ibushi has been suffering from Mallory-Weiss syndrome, and while he could be ready to return for this show, there’s no guarantee of that.  Assuming Ibushi makes it to this match, I can easily see him or Tana pinning one of the tag champs.  Otherwise, they’ll probably just punt and have the other team win.

SHO & YOH vs. El Desperado & Yoshinobu Kanemaru - Roppongi 3K (Sho and Yoh) won the IWGP junior heavyweight title on January 5, but then El Desperado pinned Sho the next day, so his team earned a title match.  The heels worked over Sho’s left knee on February 5 and 6, so that looks to be a major factor going into the match.  This is something like the 300th time these teams have faced one another, and I’m pretty sick of it.  I could see the champs making the heroic babyface comeback to retain, but then again if they dropped the title they’d make sense chasing the junior singles title or the NEVER openweight belt.  The only thing I’m sure of, though, is that they’ll never let this feud die.

Manabu Nakanishi & Yuji Nagata & Satoshi Kojima & Hiroyoshi Tenzan vs. Togi Makabe & Tomoaki Honma & Ryusuke Taguchi & Toa Henare - Nakanishi is set to retire on a February 22 show, so this is one of his final matches.  Everybody else in this match are guys who regularly team with and/or against Nakanishi in the undercard.  They’ve got all the oldest guys on Nakanishi’s side, so that suggests the other team will get the win.

[all-the-love-harold]

The Daily Anna - Chapter 1

So the link broke and I don’t know how to fix it so I’m just posting this again. I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you thought, feedback really helps xxx 

Master Post 

The Daily Anna.

11th April 2018.

Hiya!

 In the last few days a lot of new faces have joined us on here and I thought I’d take the time to introduce myself to them, so if you’ve been here for a while, come back tomorrow for some new content (or stay and read this anyway, up to you) and if you’re new here, welcome!

 Incase you haven’t already guessed, my name is Anna and I post on this blog daily, I don’t know what it is that’s drawn you to this little corner of the internet, but I hope you find it a warm, welcoming place for you to escape the harsh realities of the outside world. There isn’t really any theme to this blog, It’s just a record of my life, which I assure you is nothing special.

 I’m a 24 year old, originally from Manchester, but loving every minute of living in London. This blog is my not-so-secret diary, where I share all of my thoughts and feelings about whatever is going on in my life, and some days the posts can be incredibly deep and self reflexive, others they’re about stupid things like that cat I saw on the the walk from my flat to my best friends, one day I might even post my super secret brownie recipe (although I doubt I’ll ever do that because brownies are the only way I know how to make friends and if I share that recipe on the internet then I’ll be friendless again, so if that ever happens call 999 because there is definitely and emergency). You’ll also get a lot of content that relates to music, I have always been a music fan, so expect song recs and playlists as well as concert reviews and minor (Major) fangirl moments.

 I’m not going to pretend that I have a lot of advice to offer you, but I hope that by sharing my experiences and the little hacks that I’ve learnt along the way that we can all learn a little from each other.

 Before I sign off, I’d just like to add that this blog is a Safe Space, for me and for everyone that reads it, so if you have any nasty comments, please keep them to yourselves, that kind of negativity is not welcome here.

 That’s about all I have to say for now, you’ll learn more about me along the way and I hope to get to know you a little bit about you too. I always read the comments on my posts, so please feel free to  introduce yourself under this one, and I’ll get around to replying to as many as possible as soon as I can.

 Yours sincerely, Anna. xx

 ***

Anna’s life was a mess. An absolute mess. Sure, her blog made it like look like she had everything together, but in reality, she felt like everything was falling apart.

It had all started a couple of weeks ago when her friend, Charlotte, who truly was one of her best friends, asked her how she felt about giving up her job and her degree to start blogging full time. It was a big decision that she couldn’t take lightly, she hated her job, but the money was good and what kind of loser didn’t have a degree these days? She was 24, she should have graduated years ago, but she’d taken time off and changed university’s and what should have taken her 3 years had so far taken her 6 and she still had one one to go. But what charli was offering was a light at the end of the tunnel, with a job that would be on her own terms, and money that she could live on comfortably. The only thing that was stopping her was what her family and friends would think of her if she dropped out but right now as she sat at her desk, fingertips pressed to her temples trying to write this goddamn essay about infant attachment she couldn’t think of a reason not to drop out. Why waste another year of her life? Why spend time on things she doesn’t care about?

The buzzing of her phone brought her out of her trance and  Anna glanced over at her screen to see a message from Ronnie.

Gig at the O2, you’re coming. You’ll thank me later x

Ronnie was Anna’s best friend, he had been since they were 2, and he was also a well known photographer on the music scene in London and always managed to get tickets to sold out gigs.

Are you working? Who are we seeing?

Anna put her pen down and closed her laptop. She was done. For tonight at least, she would think about her future tomorrow, for now she needed to find something to wear.

Now that would ruin the surprise wouldn’t it? Working for the O2 not the artist.

You’re so Cryptic. What should I wear?

You’re best clothes ;)

You’re the worst

I know. I’ll pick you up at 5, we’re going backstage xx

It wasn’t often that Ronnie got to take someone backstage with him, most of the time he was too busy to have a tag-along, but he did always manage to at least get Anna tickets to most shows he worked.

***

It was five to five and Anna was putting the final touches on her make up, making sure her eyeliner wings were even and her brows were looking as good as they could when they hadn’t been waxed in a few weeks. As she stepped back from the mirror she heard a knock on her door, followed by the sound of Ronnie’s footsteps walking toward her bathroom.

“Hurry it up” he called “I can’t be late today An, this is a big show”

“Who are we seeing Ron?” she asked quizzically, putting her earrings in and having one last check of herself in the mirror. Ronnie rounded the corner and handed her an O2 pass and an old camera of his.

“This doesn’t answer my question” she looked at the camera that now in her hand

“Tonight” he smirked “You are my intern”

You put the camera strap around your neck and and smiled at him “Do I look like a photographer?”

“Prettiest photographer I’ve ever seen” he winked and smiled at her placing a playful kiss on her hand “but we do need to go, get your things I’ll tell you everything in the car”

Anna rolled her eyes and pushed passed Ronnie so that she cold grab her bag from her room.

Ronnie remained silent the whole way to the car, and Anna was growing more and more anxious to know who they were going to see. The evening air hit their faces as they walked out of the building and towards his car, still without a word escaping his lips.

Anna slammed the car door closed and she couldn't hold it in any longer. “Alright knob head, who are we seeing and why are you being so secretive?”

He turned on the ignition, clipped his seat belt in and turned to look at Anna “You remember that time last year when you called me crying hysterically because you couldn’t get concert tickets?”

Anna’s eyes widened as she realised who Ronnie was taking her to see “No, Ron” she sighed “you didn’t?

He reached down into the side pocket in the drivers door and pulled out an envelope and he handed it to Anna. “You know I did”

She grabbed the envelope from him and frantically opened it, revealing two tickets and two shimmering backstage passes, each with the words “Treat People with Kindness” overlaying an image of Harry Styles.

“Holy fuck Ronnie” Anna yelled “how did you manage this?”

“I know a guy” he winked and looked at the road ahead of him as he turned the stereo on to Harry’s album.

“Oh you know a guy” Anna laughed and started singing along to the music.

“But you have to pretend you’re my intern because I could only get us tickets if we were both working”

“Are you going to pay me?”

“Absolutely not” he laughed “You can’t take photos to save your life”

“I could if you taught me how” she pouted

“I’m going to have to pretend to for tonight, so you might just learn something”

***

It was just past 5pm and the traffic around the O2 was getting busier by the second. Ronnie was getting stressed that he’d be late, but he pulled the car up in the staff car park just as it passed 5:10. Anna was still struggling to believe that this was happening but she put the pass around her neck and stepped out of the car, still holding onto ronnie’s old camera.

“What do you expect me to do with an old camera that doesn’t work Ron?”

“Pretend to take photos” he shrugged as he pulled his kit out of the boot and handed Anna a tripod that kept falling from the bag. “Just don’t freak when you see Harry”

She cleared her throat and tossed her hair her back “I am a professional photographer, I would never freak out in the presence of a client”

He laughed and started walking towards the back entrance to the building “Keep repeating that in your head and you might start to believe it”

Anna followed closely behind Ronnie as they made their way into the building. They walked into chaos. There were crew members everywhere, running about trying to get things organised for the show. Ronnie was used to this, he’d worked for the O2 on and off for about 3 years now and he’d seen his fair share of high profile shows, but this was the first time Anna had been to this venue with him and she was a little shocked to see how frantic everything was.

“This way An” Ronnie said directing her down a hallway towards a door that said ‘STAFF ONLY’

The room was tiny. Not nearly big enough to fit more than five people, and it was crammed with bags and jackets.

“Does everyone out there count as staff?” Anna asked

“No, they’re crew, they have their own room” he dumped his kit in the free space on the table “This is the backstage staffroom for O2 staff, there’s another one for front stage staff that’s much bigger”

“But you’re not cool enough for that are you?” she giggled as another girl walked into the room.

“Hey Bridge” Ronnie smiled “This is Anna, my new intern”

Anna held her hand out and shook the girls hand “It’s lovely to meet you”

“You too love” she smiled “It’s Bridgett by the way, I’m the creative director for The O2, I tell Ronnie what to do”

“Someone’s got to” she laughed, suddenly feeling nervous about this whole thing. Bridgett smiled back and then turned to Ronnie

“Harry will be arriving soon, and when he gets here I need you to introduce yourselves and tell him what you’ll be doing tonight.”

“And what exactly are we doing tonight?” Ronnie said, so he knew exactly what shots he needed

“Right” Bridgett pulled out her notes from her back pocket “We need the standard Hall of Fame shot once he’s all dressed, he has his own photographer who I will introduce you to in a minute, that will take care of most of the backstage shots, but get a few if you can. Your main focus tonight though is the fans, get outside once doors have opened at get some photos of them all coming in.”

Ronnie was writing everything down frantically so that he didn’t miss anything “and when he’s on stage, focus on him or the crowd?”

“Both, get some shots of him that will look nice on the website, and get some of the crowd that can be used for marketing the venue to potential artists”  

“Great “ Ronnie putting his pen away “and when do you need the final product by?”

“You’ve got until monday to get me the photos from tonight and tomorrow” Bridgett was called out of the room by another member of staff and she turned and walked away.

Anna looked at Ronnie quizzically, “Tomorrow night?”

“Oh yeah” Ronnie laughed “did I forget to tell you that we get to do this all again tomorrow?”

“You did.” Anna said bluntly

“Surprise!” Ronnie held up his hands and waved them “But seriously, we need to go outside and get photos of the queue.” He walked out of the room, holding the door open for Anna. The backstage area was still in chaos and Anna began to feel nervous again. She felt strange pretending to be Ronnie’s intern, as greatful as she was to be there, she felt a bit like a fraud. She shook it off and followed Ronnie, weaving in and out of crew members watching as he got a few shots of them getting things ready for the show.

 After getting a few images of fans waiting to get into the venue, Anna and Ronnie returned backstage, where she helped him to find a free wall space for the hall of fame image to be set up and then left him to it for a few minutes while she went and got some more equiptment for him. She walked out of the staff room again and the room that had five minutes ago been filled with chaos was suddenly calm and she saw Harry standing off to the side, talking to who she assumed was his manager. Nerves filled her body again as she made her way towards Ronnie who was standing almost right next to Harry. She handed ronnie the tripod that he has asked her to get but she couldn’t take her eyes off the tall smiley boy in front of her and dropped it before Ronnie had a hold of it. His head turned towards them in that moment when he heard the tripod drop and his smile grew wider as he tried to hold back a laugh

“Careful love” he said his voice deeper than Anna had expected

She blushed and smiled at him.

“I don’t believe we’ve met before” held his hand out to shake Anna’s “I’m Harry” he said as if he thought she didn’t know who he was

“Anna” she said shaking his hand “Ronnie’s intern”

“Well he’s a lucky man to get to work with you every day”

She blushed “I think I’m the lucky one if I’m honest”

Harry shrugged “I’ll be the judge of that” he winked

Ronnie stepped in between the two of them “I don’t mean to interrupt, but Harry I need to get a few shots”

“Lead the way” Harry said ushering Ronnie in front of him and hanging back so that he was walking beside Anna

“You know” he said quietly “I’m pretty sure Ronnie Dalton doesn’t have an intern”

“He doesn’t” Anna’s whispered “this camera’s fake, he’s my best friend has been since we were little”

“And he got you backstage” Harry nodded a smile spread across his face.

“Sorry”

“Don’t be” he held his hands up in surrender “I’m glad you’re here”

They came to the space that Ronnie and Anna had set up earlier and Ronnie asked Harry to pose for the camera. The shots only took a few minutes but by the time they were done Harry’s manager was calling for him to do the soundcheck. He thanked ronnie and Anna before he ran off but just before he reached the stage doors, he turned on his heels and Looked at Anna.

“Do you want to watch?” he started jogging back towards her

“Uhhh” Anna looked nervously at Ronnie and back to Harry “The soundcheck?”

“Yeah” He ran his fingers through his hair “I hate doing them, it’s weird looking out to an empty room”

“I don’t think one person is going to make a difference” Ronnie said rolling his eyes

Harry turned his head to look at Ronnie “You can come too, I’m sure Helene wouldn’t mind if you got a few photos”

“My focus is the fans”

“Okayyy” Harry turned back to Anna “coming or not?”

She looked to Ronnie who shrugged and nodded “You’re not really my intern, do what you want”

His sudden change in attitude worried Anna, but she knew it was probably nothing, he often got stressed in high pressure situations where he had a set number of specific images that he needed.

Anna nodded at Harry “I guess I am”

Harry held out his hand and she took hold of it, “We better be quick, Jeffery will kill me if I take much longer.” He started running back down the narrow hallway and Anna was forced to follow suit, breaking into a light jog so that she wouldn’t have to let go of his hand. They came to the stage and Harry burst through the door and was met by a very stern looking Jeffery.

He quickly dropped Anna’s hand “Hello Jeffery” he said excitedly, a tone of sarcasm evident in his voice “what’s the plan here?”

“Same as always H, nice of you to keep everyone waiting”

Harry laughed and pet jeffery on the back “It’s only a few minutes Jeffy, I think we’ll be fine”

Jeffery peered around Harry so that he could see Anna and drew his lips into a sharp line, looking back at Harry with an expression that said a thousand words.

“Go stand at the mic, we’ll start by checking the screens”

Harry nodded and turned around looking at Anna “Where do you want to watch from love? Front and centre?” he pointed towards the gap between the two mosh pits.

“Where else?” she laughed and walked down the steps leaning on the barrier as she watched the screens lower around the stage. Harry waved to her as he disappeared behind them and Anna giggled at his attempts to be in sight as long as possible, ducking his head and pulling faces until the screens covered the stage. The opening notes of Only Angel echoed through the empty arena and Anna smiled back at Harry as he reappeared in front of her.

The soundcheck was quicker than Anna had expected, Harry and the band ran through a few songs on the main stage to check that everything was working as it should be. Then, once they knew everything on the B-Stage was working as it should be, Harry ran off stage back to Anna.

“Good show?” he asked raising his eyebrows at her

“My own private screening, might as well go home now”

“Oh no” Harry said “You’ll miss all the best bits”

***

The arena was full of screaming fans now and the show was halfway over. Standing by the B-Stage as Harry sang the final notes of ‘If I could Fly’, Anna was helping Ronnie find some fans that he could get a photo of and all she could think about was not the beautiful boy standing just a few metres away from her, who only an hour ago had been flirting with her, or her best friend who was truly the most important person in her life, but her blog. This was the moment of clarity that she’d been waiting for for years, the moment where she realised that her own happiness is more important than any degree in the world and her blog was her happy place, so why not make it her job too. She watched as Harry carefully rested his guitar on the stand and waved to the fans at the back of the arena before he made his way back to the main stage at a steady jog.

He brushed past Anna and grabbed onto her hand “You’re going to want to be at the front for this next song love” he dropped her hand continued on his way.

Ronnie rolled his eyes at the interaction “you’re not falling for this are you An?” he put his camera down and looked at her sternly.

“Mind your business Ronald” she wrapped her fake camera around her neck and followed Harry down the aisle, stopping just to the side of the pit.

“This is another new one” Harry said into the mic as the drum beat of an unfamiliar song echoed in Anna’s ears “It’s called Anna” he winked at Anna, a wide smirk emerging on his face.

“Don’t know where you’re laying Just know it’s not with me Don’t know what I’d tell you if I passed you on the street

 I don’t want your sympathy, but you don’t know what you do to me,

Oh Anna!”

 Anna Blushed. She knew the song wasn't about her, how could it be? She’d only met Harry four hours ago. It was simply coincidental, but she couldn’t help but feel like he was singing directly to her. Maybe it was because he couldn’t take his eyes off her, maybe it was because everytime he said her name he winked or maybe it was just because the song was about a girl called Anna.

 “Well I guess it would be nice if I could touch your body

If I could touch your body

If I could touch your body

If I could touch your body”

 Harry couldn’t take his eyes off Anna and he couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he watched her blush at the lyrics. It had been a long time since he’d met someone he connected with so instantly, he actually wasn't sure he ever had.  

 ***

Happiness.

 In the perfect world, with the perfect life, there’s a formula for happiness, it’s a simple one, good grades in school, a university degree, a good, high paying job, a partner that loves you and some kids that are happy and healthy. But real life doesn’t have a formula and happiness is different for everyone.

 I’m finding myself stuck on the second point of the so- called formula. University.  A degree is supposed to qualify you for a job, right? But with just a few subjects to complete before I graduate, I don’t feel like there’s a job out there that I’m qualified to do. So why finish? That sounds crazy I know, but I’m, at a crossroads here, I have a choice.

I     could spend the next year and a bit finishing my degree, getting myself     into more debt only to end up in the same place I would if I take option     two now.

I     could turn this blog into my career. This requires a big leap of faith, a     lot of patience and hard work, but that’s not what I’m afraid of. It’s the     judgement that scares me. From family and friends to some of you guys, I     know a lot of people would disapprove of  me leaving university.

Now, before I tell you about my final decision, I’d like to tell you about last night because it was the happiest I’ve ever felt and it’s that experience that has led me to this cross roads.

 Mr Harry Styles, has always been one of my favourite celebrities, he’s kind and he radiates joy and last night I got to experience that live and up close. Most of you know that a very close friend of mine is Ronnie Dalton, a well known photographer around London and he was lucky enough to be asked by the O2 to help out with photography last night, which meant that I got to tag along (as Ronnie’s “Intern”)

 My interactions with Harry were only brief, a quick introduction, a hug, a few photos taken by Ronnie of Harry posing against a wall and then he was dragged away for sound check, but spending those few minutes with him, and watching him perform live, made me realise that there is no formula for happiness, something that makes one person happy won’t have the same effect on the next.

 I was standing at the edge of Harry’s B-Stage, helping Ronnie set up a shot, when it dawned on me that my life doesn’t need to fit into a formula, I can be who I want without the world’s approval. So I write this blog post as I delete the essay I began writing yesterday and withdraw from my current subjects. I don’t need that degree to be happy, this blog has always been one of my great passions, I’ve been posting on it daily for years without fail and now is the perfect time to turn this passion I have for writing into something I can be proud of.  This may seem like a rash decision, but I’ve been stewing on it for a while now and I guess I have Harry Styles to thank for giving me that final push, to take the leap of faith.

 So, expect to see a few changes around here over the next few months, and a whole lot of new content.

 Yours Sincerely, Anna. xx

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Picture Perfect. || 5

Two Ghosts.

Previous Chapters.

Once again, Harry and I failed to express the fact that we kissed, actually, did more than a simple kiss.

The flight from Chicago to the Hamptons was far from quiet, to say the least. Harry had lots to say, so did I, but none of it had to revolve around the fact we ruined our friendship by sleeping between the sheets and doing things friends don’t do.

Maybe it is for the best we don’t bring up our one night stand, a one night stand that I gave him hell for the night before when it was him and some other woman. To say the least, this trip, which is halfway over, has been more than I could have ever bargained for. If only pictures could capture the moments between us that weren’t so, modest. Maybe then we wouldn’t be dancing around something that is brewing between us. There is undoubtedly something going on, clearly since neither of us seems to bring up the facts.

The hustle and bustle of airports have never really been my thing. I am not like Harry who can race through the airport terminals without much worry in the world. I am more of the type to want to take it slow and breathe for a moment.

I appreciate taking in my surroundings and the air of a new place, despite how weird that may sound. I guess you could say I prefer to live in the moment and not let it pass me by because I am too busy hurrying to the next moment that is significantly bigger. Perhaps it is the writer in me; I want to welcome the touch of the ocean at my feet in the most rejuvenating way and feel it stir my soul, I want to inhale that unique yet satisfying scent of an airport that I can never figure out; I want to feel everything in every inch of me.

“What are you thinking?” Harry distracts me from my thoughts as we stop right at baggage claim, I look up at him with a small smile. I admire his bright eyes that seem to shine perfectly with the lighting and his hair that is messy from the early flight.

I lift my shoulders into a delicate shrug, “how you hurry through airports like they’re forbidden ground.”

I draw a chuckle from Harry’s lips, oh those lips. How satisfying they are to kiss and taste.

“Well, to me, all airports are the same. Seen them all a thousand times.”

“You have, I haven’t.”

Harry nods, “You calling me selfish?” he benevolently nudges me as we both keep a look out for our bags.

Before I can respond with a chuckle and a sly remark that is bursting of nothing but playfulness, Harry steps forward, “I got it,” he murmurs before pulling my bag off of the conveyer belt and placing it beside me.

I sense his unforeseen shift in mood the second he takes a second look at me and his jaw clenches, within a blink of an eye, the large baggage claim area feels incredibly small and brighter. “I’m sorry, Mia.”

“For what?” I challenge before my eyes follow his stare to behind me.

It sinks in, my best friend- who isn’t just my best friend- has a whole other world that I haven’t lived, a world I tend to forget.

They’re standing there, like vultures ready to get their meal, cameras and notepads in their hands, phones held up as though they’re at a zoo and witnessing their favourite animal leap from tree to tree.

My hand wraps around the handle of my suitcase and Harry runs his hands through his curls before he is massaging the back of his neck and narrowing his eyes onto the swarm of individuals, who are undoubtedly waiting for him. He lets out a heavy sigh and drops his hand to his side, “now you see why I get the early flights or the late night flights.” His tone is bitter and not necessarily with me but in general.

His fingers lace with my own and he pulls me closer to his side, “keep your head down and ignore them, they’re just prying pests.”

“Harry, I am a journalist, just like them.”

“You don’t wait for people at airports or follow them.” … “Don’t start on this, please.”

I drop the comments and do as he requests– keep my head down and ignore what’s happening around me. I overlook the flashes that appear to get brighter and brighter with each photo taken; I ignore the questions, the words and the whole ‘girlfriend’ saga they are attempting to produce. I neglect the pounding in my chest and the sweatiness of my palms, I overlook all of it.  

Meandering our way through the congested area to where the private car is parked feels more like having to shuffle through a lion’s den… with a container of fresh meat in my hand.

In the least dramatic way possible, it is honestly horrible, not because of the questions, statements and the flashes, but mainly because it dawns on me that this is his life, this is what he deals with and why he doesn’t like airports, it is like a cage for him.

Although for me this feels like an invasion of my privacy and a way to spark up my slight issue with anxiety and congested spaces, what is also known as claustrophobia, this is more than just that to him. This is an invasion of his privacy, himself and most importantly it is what he has grown to live with. The flashes don’t seem to bother him, the questions go in one ear and out the other and the smile on his face, although fake, doesn’t move an inch.

It is like he has this covering that only I can see through. To the prying eyes of those around us, this smiling, bright-eyed man is their next tabloid and money marketing significance, they can’t see that his smile is faked, his eyes are dim and the creases under his eyes aren’t from a lack of sleep but a lack of comfort in this moment. They can’t see the covering Harry is using as a shield. And that—that is what is hurting me the most.

What I thought was a never-ending mob of people, eventually put me at rest and left us alone the moment we managed to get ourselves to the car. The driver opens the door and Harry takes my bag from me, “get in, love.” Harry instructs, gesturing for me to slide into the car.

“I can put my bag–“

He cuts me off, not to claustrophobia be rude by any means, “Mia, please.” I can tell by the tone of voice he’s not in much of a mood to be challenged on any level, even if it is just my way of not having him do everything for me. I nod and grant him his wish to slide into the car.

I press my back against the coolness of the leather seats and I take a breath, a breath that feels like it has been prolonged and much needed. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I forgot how to breathe in that brief moment from the baggage claim to the car.

Harry slides in beside me and the door closes behind him, he looks at me and clears his throat, dead silence sweeping through the car like an unrelenting hurricane that isn’t going to let up.

‘Comfortable silence is so overrated.’ — I wish Harry would repeat his own line and put it to good use every once in a while.

“I’m uh– I’m sorry about that. I had hoped it wouldn’t happen. I should have hired security, I was naive and jus—“

“Shh.” I press my finger to his lips as I shake my head.

I don’t need or require his apology, I am aware none of this is his fault, he can’t control some of the things that happen. It comes with the territory of being a well-known singer who is private and keeps the world on their toes. “It’s okay. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is… I shouldn’t have put you in the position for this to happen, you don’t like small spaces and crowds. It’s not fair to you to have to put up with some of my shit.”

“You remembered that I don’t like crowds?”

He blinks at me for a moment, as though I have asked one of the dumbest questions known to man.

Just because we are best friends, it doesn’t mean he has to remember every detail about me. I think I only mentioned my crowd and claustrophobia to him once. “Why do you think you’re in the sound box area when you come to my concerts or you’re backstage? Because of the crowds. Contrary to popular belief, I do pay attention.” … “I’m jus’ sorry you experienced a small mobbing at an airport. I feel like I owe you unconditional apologies because they’re going to happen every now and again.”

I shrug my shoulder, “eh, come with the territory of being friends with a world sensation.”

“Alright, none of that… I see you smirking.”

“I mean, it’s true. You’re a heartthrob, Harry.”

“Christ. Alright, that’s enough.” Harry chuckles, finally breaking the odd tension that has been sitting between the two of us.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, why?” Harry questions as he leans back and lets out a breath of relief.

“Well, I know you have this cover over you. You seem perfectly fine on the outside but on the inside, you’re probably a bit… eh.”

“Eh? Is that the best you can do?” He’s teasing, as usual. It’s his way of telling me he doesn’t really want to discuss the topic I am attempting to allude to. He has never really been one to openly express his thoughts and feelings unless it is through music— Even then, it’s still cryptic and hard to piece together—  Figuring him out is like trying to do a puzzle without realising there’s one piece missing you’ll probably never find.

“Eh, is a very good descriptive word.”

Harry nods, “Yeah, I’ll expect to read that in your next article.”

“You don’t read my articles.” I roll my eyes and Harry scoffs.

“Jus’ like you don’t listen to my music.”

“I don’t.” We all know I’m lying through my teeth, but that’s not the point I’m making here.

“Uh-huh. Then we are even. I don’t read your articles and you don’t listen to my music.”

“Well, we can call it even.” I grin, a little curious about whether he really does read my articles or not. Perhaps he reads a few here and there when he gets time, which is rare, the man barely gets time to himself.

*** ***

“So, are you on the prowl for a New York girl?” I question in an attempt to start up a conversation that has gone dry. I don’t like the quiet silence between us at the moment. This time it isn’t even comfortable silence.

Harry lifts his shoulders into a brief shrug, “not sure, love.” … “Been texting Olivia, the one from Chicago.”

“Oh, a budding romance?” I benevolently nudge him playfully, a little curious about what is rattling around that brain of his.

“Couldn’t tell ya, maybe,” he shrugs again, “instead of going to the aquarium, I thought we could appreciate the warm weather outside.”

I nod in agreement, “I would say that is a good idea, I need to write anyway.”

“What are you writing about?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug, unaware of what I need to write about for this article.

I have yet to find much inspiration.

Much like Harry, I strive to draw inspiration from my own personal experiences and moments, it’s how I uncover some of my best work and manage to connect with who or what I’m writing about. I steer away from the influential headlines regarding celebrities, mainly because I don’t want to get caught in that crossfire with Harry. I know the personal struggle he goes through with being publicised at times he doesn’t want to be and being pulled apart and dissected with every move. I bounce around with my freedom of writing, tackling different topics and genres, mainly attempting to find what clicks the most.

The car comes to a complete stop and when I get out; I am surprised that we are not at the hotel like I expected. I glance towards Harry, slightly confused.

“It’s the perfect spot, quiet enough to not be disturbed but loud enough for you to draw ideas to write something.” He gestures towards the area in front of me.

I take in the view of what essentially consists of withered grass that is still a golden shade spread out over small hills while the sound of an ocean echoes in the background. “We don’t have to stay here, we can go somewhere—“

I cut him off, “I like it.” Truth is, I’m not just saying it because this seems like the kind of area Harry would love to relax in, but because I genuinely feel connected to the simplicity and the private side of what is offered.

I clutch my bag from the car and Harry clutches his journal before I follow him in wandering through the grass. “What about the driver?” I question.

“He’ll stay where he is. No need to worry.”

“There aren’t any snakes, right?”

Harry turns to gaze at me and raises a brow, “ye kidding right?”

“Of course!” I giggle nervously.

I’m not kidding. Not even remotely.

Harry rolls his eyes, “come on, Mia.”

I follow Harry over the small hill before he settles himself down, “Well, sit, relax, do your thing.”

“My thing?” I softly ask while I rest down in front of him and draw my bag to assemble on my lap.

“Do what you do best. Besides being a pain in my ass.”

“I’m not a pain in the ass.”

“There you go again being one.” Harry winks with this charming little smile that I can’t possibly stay annoyed at.

I roll my eyes at him, “I saw that, Mia.”

“I wasn’t trying to be discreet, Harry.”

Harry shrugs and gives me that cocky smile of his before he pulls out his camera.

To be honest, I kind of love how he is documenting certain aspects through the lens of his camera.

It’s kind of a twist of events with irony. He hates the spotlight and the cameras at a time, but he loves the feel of a camera between his two hands.

“Smile.”

I shake my head and sigh, well aware that he is going to pester with this damn camera of his, “No.”

“Smile, Mia.”

“Don’t start with this.”

Harry pouts his lips, “please?”

I shake my head. Although he seems to disagree, I am not apart of this journey of his. I’m not apart of the love finding or the thrill of documenting pictures. I am not part of the scenery around us.

*** ***

I glance down at my phone and read the email from my boss followed by the next article that will be printed.

Instantly, I stand up, “Just need to make a call.” I mutter, marching away from Harry to call my boss.

“Hello, Ms Mia, I thought you would call.”

“Mr.Williams, that article, although excellently written, is not necessary.”

“Ms Mia, I respect your opinions but I sent you the article as a heads up. This article is being published in the next five minutes.”

I sigh heavily and run my fingers through my hair, “ Mr Williams, the article is false.”

The line goes silent for a moment before he clears his throat, “Whether it is true or not, the article will be published. This is the publishing industry, we write the truth and sometimes what resembles like the truth; welcome to the world of the media, Mia.”

“I know this is the industry… But don’t you think publishing something that isn’t sincere and something that will damage someone’s reputation is unfair?”

“Perhaps, but it comes with the territory. I know you and Harry are close, that is why I sent it to you so you weren’t blindsided. This is business, Mia. This article puts food on the table for me and for you too.”

“I know, but it isn’t fair on him to suffer.”

“I know, just like I know you’re emotionally invested in this topic which is why I thought you at least deserved a heads up before being blindsided.”

“Well, be expecting calls from his publicist team.”

“Without a legal team, nothing can be done. Mia, just let it go, okay? How is your piece going?”

“It is going well… I need to get back to it. I will keep in touch.”

And with that, the phone call is over. I stare out into the distance and take a deep breath, my head swirling with how the hell I am going to drop this bombshell on Harry.

I wander back towards Harry and I gaze over towards him, his head is bowed to stare at his journal as his legs are sprawled in front of him. “Hey, Harry?” He gazes up at me and nods, gesturing for me to continue. “They’re running a story on you.”

Harry lifts his shoulders into a shrug, “you know I don’t feed into that.”

“I know…” … “I think you should take a look at this,” I inform Harry and he shrugs.

“Darling, I really try to ignore all of that. How’s the writing coming along?” He changes the subject and I sigh while my eyes glance at my phone. “from your lack of response, I assume not well?”

“I just— you need to look at this.“

Harry rolls his eyes and I hand him my phone with the article.  "Oh, wow, I am in the title. Big fucking deal.”

“Read it, Harry.” I raise my voice insignificantly, trying not to come off as too bothersome or frustrated.

I see his jaw clench and his eyes shift from my phone screen to me. They’re opaque, they’re burning with this sort of anger that doesn’t reveal very often. “Really? Is this your way of getting back at me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Did you fucking write this? Did you tip them off to the one night stand to teach me some sort of fucked up lesson?” His voice is increased and his eyes continue to darken.

If they were knives, they’d have cut me in several ways.

I stare at him for a moment, shocked that he is even attempting to accuse me of publicly outing his personal, sex life to the media.

“Harry, are you really accusing me of doing that to you?”

“It is your fucking place of work, not mine. I wasn’t the one that told them and you’re the only other person who knew!” Harry’s voice intensifies and he grits his teeth before his lips screw into irritation. To say the least, he is fucking furious.

I am not sure whether I should be pissed or disheartened at the fact that he thinks so low of me to actually out him and his life. We have been friends’ for so long that I never thought he would accuse me of such a thing. I would never do such a thing, even if I despised him and he did a shameful act towards me. He should know me well enough to understand that I would never drag him down for any purpose, not publicly or privately.

“If you honestly think I would do such a thing, you clearly don’t fucking know me.”

“Maybe I don’t. You were the only one to know about it.”

I roll my eyes as I grab my bag, “You’re a fucking prat.”

He seems taken back by my comment. It is rare for me to actually get mad at him and allow myself to resort to foul language. But, he has no right to accuse me of something he knows little about. “Excuse me?”

I stare down at him. “You heard me loud and clear, moron.” … “You’re literally a daft halfpenny.” Don’t get me wrong, he is such an intelligent man but he sometimes becomes so dim.

“How am I the one being the prat?”

“Hey, wanker, your one night stand or your slag was probably the one who went to the media,” I inform him before I storm away and make my way back towards the car with Harry hot on my heels.

I politely smile at the driver as he hurries over to open the door for me, I nod my head as a thank you gesture before I slide in and relax against the leather seats.

It isn’t long before Harry’s body is right beside my own and that horrid silence that has been following us around makes itself known. Ever since last night, it seems as though things keep going downhill, it is kind of like Sod’s Law—  whatever can go wrong, will go wrong.

I am starting to believe this trip is proving to be more of a struggle than a stress-free environment for the two of us.

“Mia, I probably should have handled that better, I shouldn’t—”

“Just be quiet, yeah?”

“Mia.”

“Harry, I don’t want to fucking hear it. Until you’re not being a wanker, don’t bother.” I grouse, comprehending him well enough to know he hasn’t entirely calmed down from the whole matter.

He is a level-headed man, don’t get me wrong, he doesn’t blow up too often, but when he does, I know he doesn’t calm down as promptly as people assume he would for his nature. I know he is currently stewing on the fact that his one-night stand has publically humiliated him by selling her story to the journalists. I know that he is probably pissed with himself and with the industry as a whole.

*** ***

The rest of the car ride to the hotel was quiet, neither Harry nor I uttered a word. The moment Harry handed me my hotel key I was gone. I locked myself away in my hotel room.

While watching re-runs of Friends, my phone vibrates against its position on the bed. I glance over at it and roll my eyes. I still don’t care for what Harry has to say, a phone call isn’t going to change that.

I allow the phone to continue vibrating while I attempt to pay attention to the television. But it proves to be harder than I anticipated.

I despise quarrelling with Harry, I hate ignoring him and I hate being in this position where I don’t really know what we are.

Are we friends? Are we more?

There is this void between us that we appear to leap around. I know we shouldn’t have ruined the friendship by getting between the sheets in Chicago, but I can’t change that now. I don’t see us being anything more than friends, we have two opposite worlds we live in. Although we work well as friends, as lovers… well, we wouldn’t have much of a chance. We would destroy each other, I don’t think we are good for each other’s souls.. Even if we do happen to have something between us, it isn’t enough to withhold the storm of ‘Harry & Mia.’ We make great best friends but mixing things into a romance would be hell. For crying out loud, the man thought going on a trip for fun would somehow find him a lover. Like his soulmate is just somewhere floating around here.

He is continuously off touring, locking himself away in studios and doing new projects and I am writing while attempting to find myself. I’m not where I want to be— something is missing— I am not like Harry who has his ducks in a row, I barely have mine in the same fucking pond. I just- we are in two different parts of our lives with career choices and everything. In a sense, I earn money off of his publicity- which is the main reason for our argument at the moment.

I assume he resents me for working in the part of the industry that plays on his reputation as an artist and as a person.

The hotel phone begins to sound and I groan as I lean over and grab the phone, “Hello?”

“Before you hang up, hear me out.” Harry’s voice blares through the phone and I profoundly lament, “I’m sorry-”

“I am not interested in one of your shitty, half-assed explanations.”

“Mia, can you meet me in the lobby in an hour?”

“No, I am busy.”

“Mhm.. watching friends can wait until later. I can hear the theme song playing every thirty minutes. Meet me in the lobby, dress nicely.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I would appreciate if you would let me apologise.”

“Fine, this better be good,” I mutter before I hang up the phone and stare up at the ceiling.

What am I even doing? Lying here coming up with excuses for why we wouldn’t work out as lovers, for fuck’s sake, we probably don’t even have feelings for each other besides the friendly ones that people talk about.

*** ***

I step off the elevator and my heels echo against the marble flooring of the lobby. I grin to myself as I observe Harry donned admirably in suit pants and his black button up.

I welcome his eyes as they scan me up and down— in a way, I feel him undressing me with his eyes— it carries me back to last night when his fingers undressed me and danced across my skin and the way my brazen hands ran over his bronzed body of beautiful edges and planes.

His beguiling, turquoise-green eyes catch my own and I can’t help but smile, all anger dwindling away. He has this charming appearance that melts my heart and conducts a blissful state to overcome me. There is something about his eyes. The way they glimmer excellently and become the pathway to his soul. A path I aspire to travel every inch of and discover. I don’t know what it is, but it is there. He may just be my best and worst mistake that I desire to make over and over again.

He takes a breath and distracts me from my impromptu thoughts, “well, don’t you just look beautiful.” He flashes me that captivating smile.

“You look handsome, Harry.”

“Thank you,” he nods, “are you ready? I thought we could eat at Wharfside and The Sandbar. Unless you don’t want to? We can eat anywhere you want.” He comments with a bit of a stutter, part of him coming off as nervous, but I disregard it.

“That seems great,” I assure him instantly, chuckling slightly at him.

He rolls his eyes playfully and he gestures his head towards the glass doors before I see a change in his facial expression, he becomes stunned. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he saw a ghost.

I turn and follow his eyes, to my surprise, he has seen a ghost— a ghost of his past.

There she is, her 5'10 self with iridescent, malachite-green eyes, Nordic-gold hair and legs that ease about the room with a balletic grace. There she is, the girl I have heard quite a bit from the past, the girl Harry has probably spoken about the most with me, Nadine.

My jaw drops, not because I am astounded she is here, after all this is the Hamptons, but because Harry never emphasised how fucking beautiful she truly is in person. And here she is, wandering over here with the most angelic grace one could think of.

I take the brief moment to gaze up at Harry to witness his eyes glowing brighter than earlier and his lip twitching.

It doesn’t take me long to realise she is the one he wants.

I respectfully smile as she stands in front of us, “Harry, I didn’t know you were on this side of town.” She approaches sweetly.

Fuck, even her voice is sublime.

“Hi, Nadine. Yeah, just in for the night. Nadine, this is Mia, Mia this is Nadine.” Harry introduces us.

“Hello, nice to meet you.” I smile as I embrace the woman who has Harry’s heart. The woman who I think just broke my own.

“Likewise, Mia. Jus’ wanted to say hi, sorry to interrupt.”

“You’re not interrupting,” I immediately assure her. “We were about to go get food, would you like to come?” I offer without thinking.

Bloody mouth, it should have kept shut.

She gazes at me for a moment with a wide grin, “I couldn’t possibly intrude.”

“Nonsense, you’re not intruding.” I shake my head.

“Uh, if it is okay, sure.” She glances towards Harry, requiring his approval.

He nods without saying a word, just smiles at her.

I can see it, I see it clearly— he wants her— she wants him. Inviting her to dinner is the right thing. They’re clearly the lost souls that need finding— they’re two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty.

Maybe she is one he was meant to find on this journey?