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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years ago

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Raise the Barre (Ch. 1)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Content Contributor: @baebae-goodnight (WHO MADE THIS PERFECTLY GORGEOUS MOODBOARD)

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Word Count: 7,003

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.

Thumbs hooked beneath the straps of your backpack, you paused on the sidewalk to tilt your head up. A sign reading Russet Ballet Academy hung from the building above, detailing the location of the next four years of your life.

It was the dream of many to attend and yet, few ever came to walk these halls as its students. Only eighty dancers were accepted to their dance program each year; the fiercest competition from all over the globe.

Somehow, you were amongst them.

The day you’d received your letter still felt like a dream but here you were, standing under the sign and knowing you’d made it. You stared at it a second longer before your mom came up and squeezed your shoulder.

“Wow,” she said, also reading the sign. “Seems like just yesterday you fell on your ass at Hall of Fame, huh?”

“Mom!” You laughed, the moment effectively broken. “Why would you bring that up now? I was twelve!”

She grinned and glanced in your direction. “You just had such enthusiasm! Picked yourself right back up and kept going. I should’ve known then you would make it.”

Despite yourself, you felt your insides soften again. It sounded like something your old dance teacher, Miss Katie, would’ve said. She’d always had faith in your perseverance and ability. You hadn’t started competing until the age of eleven; in dancer years, this was considered late and yet, you grew quickly through the ranks. By the time you reached high school, you were known on the competitive dance circuit as one of the elites.

Your parents joked it was your contrariness that kept you going. Growing up, you’d never much liked hearing the word no – something your parents applauded and bemoaned in equal measure.

Hiking your bag higher, you turned to face your parents. “So, are you going to take a photo, or what?”

“A photo! Great idea.” Scanning the sidewalk, your mom found your dad. “Honey, come here! Honey! Hone – honestly,” she huffed, waving both arms overhead.

Finally, your dad noticed and hurried in your direction. “Have you seen the gargoyles?” he asked, clearly impressed. “The architecture of this building is incredible, Y/N. When you get settled, maybe you can find out for me who the builder –”

“Take the picture, darling,” said your mom, handing over the camera.

She moved beside you, hugging you tight enough to make breathing difficult. You were happy though, smiling brightly as your dad took the shot.

“Okay, okay,” you said, laughing after the tenth frame. “I think you guys have embarrassed me enough for one day, don’t you?”

“Debatable,” said your dad, grabbing your luggage to haul up the steps. “We’ve got to make up for all the days we won’t see you. You’re not coming home until the holidays, right? That’s a long time!”

At this, a small pang went through you and you nodded. He was right – your parents lived a plane flight away and you’d never been the wealthiest of households. You wouldn’t be able to return until three months from now, which was the longest you’d ever spent away from your family.

It was such a strange thought, you didn’t know what to do with it. As crazy as it was, since they often drove you crazy, you hadn’t ever lived far away from home and the thought made you sad. It was just another way your life was being upended.

As you entered the arched door of Grace Hall, your soon-to-be home, your head spun from the newness. In your small suburban town, you’d had a reputation. The best dancer, the straight-A student, the person with her act together – never mind what you did behind the scenes to make it appear that way. The point was, you were known.

Here, you were just another small fish thrown into the big pond. It wasn’t that you were a bad dancer – far from it – but here, everyone was the best. Everyone at Russet had passed the same bar, which meant the stakes would be higher than ever before. You had never danced under that kind of pressure and scrutiny.

Stomach churning, you once again wondered if you’d made the right choice. You’d been accepted into other Universities; ones without dance programs where you’d have a more secure future. Instead, you chose to pursue dance as a career.

It wasn’t that other majors were without risk or difficulty, but there was a certain physical and mental exhaustion associated with dance which most found to be a deterrent. You once had a teacher who said if you needed to think twice about dancing, you shouldn’t do it. Way too many people never made it to the top; if you weren’t prepared to make sacrifices for what you loved, then this wasn’t the path for you.

At the time, you hadn’t thought twice about your decision, but that was before the events of Senior year.

A week before the final dance competition of the season, your tendonitis grew so bad, you physically winced whenever you landed a jump. Your teachers finally caught on and forced you to see a doctor, who forbade you from dancing in the upcoming competition.

It had been the last one of the year; your final chance to compete and show everyone – well, someone – why you were considered the best. You went to the competition despite your injury, determined to cheer on your teammates, but something hollow settled into your chest as you watched, realizing your time on the stage would someday come to an end.

You realized how tenuous your body was and, by extension, your career. Of course, you’d known this before, but it had been your first time to face this knowledge head-on and it scared you. Tendonitis wasn’t something that went away, although it was a condition you could work through and manage. Still, your body would only get worse and although you knew you wanted to dance, now you had doubts.

As you stepped through the doors of Russet Academy, these doubts reared their ugly heads once again.

Hiking your bag further up on your shoulder, you plastered a smile on your face and pushed these thoughts away. That was last year. You were better now, fully recovered and approved to dance by your doctors. So long as you took care of yourself, there was nothing to fear.

More suitcases waited in the trunk of your dad’s rental car, but your roommate had already texted her arrival, so you headed upstairs. Noelle Carmichael was from California, a Sagittarius, had begun dancing at the age of three and loved caramel popcorn more than anything else in the world. All this information had been thrown at you during your first text conversation, which might have seemed like a lot, but after a summer of talking, you knew it to only be Noelle.

As you lugged your bag from the elevator – the singular service vehicle had been repurposed for move-in – a head poked itself from a room down the hall.

“Y/N?”

When you nodded, your roommate whooped and leapt into view.

“It’s me – Noelle!” she called.

She rushed to help you with your bags, chattering excitedly as you walked down the hall. Noelle’s move-in time had been yesterday, and her parents had already left, but they couldn’t wait to meet you the next time they visited.

You found her enthusiasm contagious and before long, most of your worries had been banished to the sidewalk outside. It felt like you’d known Noelle for much longer than the few months you talked over the summer. This greatly relieved you, since you’d been worried about making friends at Russet Academy.

Dancers weren’t always the friendliest, especially when it came to institutions like this. So much of dance was competition – competition for that ranking, that medal or that place in that dance company. It was hard to make teamwork a priority when so much of success was judged on the individual.

Noelle didn’t seem to think this way though, which helped ease some of your fears. You had both entered the ballet track at the Academy. You weren’t naturally a ballerina, but Russet recommended those who wanted to go into jazz or contemporary start with ballet. Smaller majors existed for tap and hip-hop, but those had never been your forte.

Meeting Noelle was enough for minimal tears to be shed while saying goodbye to your parents later that night. Your dad ended up crying, which of course set you off, but by the time they got in their rental car and turned the corner, you’d managed to mostly pull yourself together.

Noelle remained in the dorm while you said goodbye, lounging on her bed with a book in her lap.

You paused on the threshold of your room when you returned, taking in the strangeness of all your surroundings. Your old comforter on a lofted bed, your laptop perched on a strange desk, your clothes hung in an armoire. It was both strange and familiar; the sight of it brought tears to your eyes.

“Oh, no!” Noelle said, hopping down from her bed. “Don’t cry, Y/N! I only just stopped crying this morning. If you cry, then I’ll cry and people will think something terrible is happening here.”

You laughed when she hugged you, hugging her back in the middle of the room. It was comforting to know someone else felt this way; after a moment, you pulled back to wipe your eyes.

“I’m fine,” you groaned, shaking your head. “Damn. I didn’t expect that.”

“I know.” Noelle smiled. “I was so excited to leave I forgot that deep down, I’m a gigantic baby. Huge mama’s girl.”

Stifling a laugh, you crossed the room to grab a Kleenex.

“If it helps,” Noelle said. “Some girls down the hall are having people over tonight. We could go and meet some of our classmates before orientation starts tomorrow. It should be fun!”

“That does sound fun,” you said, and you meant it.

A few hours later, you found yourself seated on equally horrible carpet in a room down the hall. Several other freshmen were seated beside you, sharing similar parting stories, which lifted your spirits.

“I bawled,” said Irene, clutching her chest. “I’ve had this giant countdown in my calendar all summer. I crossed each day off with a marker and then suddenly, I’m here and I miss my sister. Pathetic.”

Noelle laughed. “I’m just glad I was part of yesterday’s move-in day. It means only half of you heard my gigantic breakdown last night. Mad embarrassing. Pretty sure I told my brother I love him.” She shuddered. “He’s only supposed to get that honor on his birthday!”

The room cracked up, another girl chiming in and you swirled your cup, happily buzzed from the drink in your hand. You hadn’t had alcohol many times before, but it seemed appropriate for a night of new experiences. No one here was drinking to get drunk, since orientation began tomorrow, but some social lubricant tended to help in times like this.

Ballet wouldn’t start until Monday morning, so this was your last chance for a while to indulge. It wasn’t that you couldn’t drink during the semester, but you’d learned the hard way hangovers made for terrible class the next day. You’d only done it once before deciding to ban the idea of alcohol the night before dancing.

The other girls on your floor did their best to put you at ease. Aside from your roommate, there were five other girls who’d congregated in the room.

Ari and Jasmine lived in the room you all sat in. Ari lived within driving distance of the city, had the largest collection of gel pens you’d ever seen and had started dancing later in life (at age ten), which made it all the more impressive that she’d gotten in. Jasmine was from a tiny city in the south and was also a studio dancer; you recognized her the moment she spoke, having run into her as a teacher’s assistant at a dance convention you went to.

Also present were Irene, a ballerina from Chicago and Lia, who was on the hip-hop track. They were also roommates and although you probably wouldn’t have many classes with Lia, orientation tomorrow would be the same. As you got to know them better, the bubble of trepidation in your chest slowly deflated. Everyone here seemed nice – intense, but not as though they were out to get anyone.

As though conjured into being by your very thought, a girl appeared in the door.

She was tall, slim and had her hair pulled back in a French twist. Everything about her screamed ballerina, from her light blue warm-ups to her arched expression. The moment she appeared on the threshold, several people in the room quieted.

Noticing this, you glanced at her with renewed interest. It seemed the girl’s reputation preceded her, but you honestly had no idea who she was. Rather than introduce herself though, the girl merely sighed.

“I thought I heard something,” she said, her tone piqued.

Forcing a smile to her lips, Jasmine rose from the floor. “Hey, Sabrina!” she said, making her tone bright. “We were just getting to know one another. Did you change your mind about coming? We have room if you want to join.”

Despite her forced smile, you detected a glimmer of want beneath Jasmine’s words. Clearly, this Sabrina was considered a big deal. Jasmine’s hopes were immediately crushed the second Sabrina opened her mouth.

“No, thanks,” she said, her gaze sweeping the room. “I need to get to sleep soon. I want to wake up early and get in a quick barre before breakfast.”

Noelle, seated beside you, stared at Sabrina in amazement. “You already have access to rooms?”

Sabrina turned; a faint, amused smile crossed her lips. “Yeah. I went to Russet Prep. I’ve known most of the teachers here for years.”

Hearing this, your stomach sank to the floor. You’d known, of course, there was a feeder school into Russet Ballet Academy. You’d received the same audition letter many years ago, but the cost and distance had been too much for your family to consider.

While you’d understood the fact that you’d be amongst great dancers, you hadn’t thought specifically about Russet Prep ballerinas. Sabrina’s presence instantly dampened your mood, since the way she glanced at you confirmed what you already knew.

She had a leg-up, she knew it and she wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

Leaning back on the futon, you slowly sipped your drink. “Did you just come here to say that?” you asked. “Or did you want something else?”

Multiple heads turned to face you. Irene’s lips twitched and beside you, Noelle let out a laugh. Based on their reactions, you got the feeling that Sabrina wasn’t very well-liked by her peers.

Smile vanishing, Sabrina met your gaze. “That was all,” she said. “Just wanted to ask if you could keep it down. Some of us are trying to take this opportunity seriously.”

With that, she turned and stalked from the room. The door slammed shut behind her and silence lingered – until Noelle snorted and others began to laugh.

“Some of us are trying to take this opportunity seriously,” Noelle mimicked, rolling her eyes. “Give me a break. Like we all didn’t bleed into our pointe shoes to be here.”

The rest nodded in agreement and slowly, the conversation shifted to other topics. Although you joined in, uncertainty lingered in the back of your mind. It seemed some of dance’s cattiness had followed you after all. You weren’t truly surprised by this; after all, you were barely three months older than you’d been in high school. It was too much to expect people to become adults overnight.

Still, at least there was one cause for celebration this evening. The fact that you’d arrived at Russet meant you no longer had to compete against your most fierce rival.

For the next four years, Park Jimin, utter bane of your existence, would be nowhere in sight.

Early the next morning, you stood in line for registration at Danley Hall and awaited your schedule.

“Honestly.” Noelle stood on her toes to peer down the hall. “Why do they insist on handing these things out in person? We could easily get them online and skip all this nonsense.”

“We need to take our ID card photos,” you pointed out. “But yeah, it sucks. You’d think they could’ve at least assigned us time slots.”

“Dancers.” Noelle shook her head. “Great at conceptualizing abstract choreography – not so great at administrative tasks.”

You laughed, facing forward as the line started to move. It stopped shortly thereafter, as did you, rearranging the bag on your shoulder. You recognized several people from last night and waved hello to them all, receiving greetings in turn.

When your phone vibrated in your pocket, you jumped in surprise. Pulling it free, you smiled when you saw the name of your boyfriend.

“Oooo.” Noelle peered over your shoulder. “Who’s that? Boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, swatting her arm as you opened his text. “It’s my boyfriend, Finn.”

“Finn’s a good name.” Noelle moved forward in line. “Strong. Noble. Damn, though – are you two doing long distance? Brave souls.”

“No – thank god. Finn’s at Redfield University. His orientation was last week, so we’re planning to meet up later tonight.”

“Redfield? That’s so close!” Noelle gushed. “Wow, you two are so lucky. And Redfield is a great school, too. I wholeheartedly approve.”

“Well, as long as you do,” you laughed.

“What’s he saying? Wishing you luck with registration?”

“That, and asking where I want to get dinner tonight.”

“Sickeningly cute. I’d be jealous if I weren’t such a great person.”

You snorted, about to respond when someone called your name.

“Y/L/N, Y/N?”

Head jerking up, you saw a man at the office waving you forward. It seemed your time had finally come.

“That’s me!” you said, stepping from line.

The first stop at registration were two, tiny desks set before the main office. Past these, you could see someone finishing up their student photo. A bright flash went off, momentary blinding as you winced and faced forward.

“Here you go!” you said, placing your paperwork down. “Everything should be in order.”

The paperwork man barely nodded, grabbing the folder to rifle through. He seemed content to take his time and you quickly grew bored, glancing around the lobby. Much of your class was waiting in line, looking amusingly enough like a middle school dance. There hadn’t been general orientation yet, so most people had only met those in their (single-sex) dorm last night. Groups of boys and girls awkwardly faced off from across the hall.

While you waited, you began to size people up. It was unintentional, but you knew you’d be paired with someone for ballet and it seemed better to get a head start than not. Most people were unfamiliar to you, and you’d made no meaningful progress when a new voice said your name.

“Y/N?”

Freezing in place, you continued to stare at the hallway before you.

You knew that voice. It was one you could’ve identified in the depths of Tartarus itself – which honestly, was the only place you’d imagined hearing said voice again, since it belonged to Park Jimin. Top hellion of the underworld.

Slowly, you turned and had your worst suspicions confirmed.

Park Jimin stared back at you in the hall.

He wore a jean jacket, white t-shirt and golden sunglasses perched on his head, despite being indoors. Every part of his attire screamed pretentious, but no one around you seemed to notice. Instead, a buzz spread over the crowd as more and more people realized who you were talking to.

Before you could compose yourself, you demanded, “What are you doing here, Park?”

Jimin’s smile disappeared. Slowly, he walked forward and closed the distance between you.

“So, you’re not even going to try and be pleasant?” he asked, coming to a stop. Casually, he looked you up and down. “Surprised to see you here. Thought you’d stopped dancing, or something.”

Subconsciously, your hands balled into fists. Jimin had a way of getting under your skin that no one else did – even though admittedly, you could’ve just said hello. You didn’t have to act like he was the anti-Christ, even if he was.

“I didn’t stop dancing,” you said to him through gritted teeth. “You know that perfectly well.”

Jimin shrugged. “How was I supposed to know that? The last time I saw you, you were limping around like you were on your last legs. I just assumed.”

“I… was not limping,” you said with as much dignity as you could muster.

“Weren’t you on crutches?”

“My doctor made me use those!”

“Aha!” Jimin grinned, triumphant. “So, you were injured.”

“I had tendonitis,” you shot back. “Hardly fatal, Park. I’m fine now.”

“Right.” Jimin glanced at your feet. “Hope it doesn’t come back.”

From anyone else, you might’ve taken the words at face value, but this was Jimin. He’d never wished for your success before, so it would be foolish to imagine otherwise now.

Gaze hardening, you took another step forward until you stood nose-to-nose. Well, nose to chin was more like it. Jimin had grown since you first began competing against one another. You remembered a time when you both were the same height. This had once been a source of great amusement for you, choosing to stand directly before him at awards ceremonies.

You opened your mouth to tell him off when the paperwork man said your name again.

“That’s me!” you blurted, spinning around.

Jimin would have to wait, you decided as you strode forward. The paperwork man looked at you in alarm, clearly not used to having such enthusiastic participants.

“Uh, I know,” he said slowly. “You confirmed your name earlier. The photographer is ready,” he added, nodding towards the room Jimin had vacated.

Cheeks burning, you accepted your paperwork and nodded. Although you purposefully didn’t look at Jimin as you left, you could feel him smirking at you from behind.

Refusing to give him the time of day, you brushed past – or you would’ve, but the space was too small for dramatics. You nearly elbowed him in the spleen as you went, forced to squeeze against the wall in an undignified fashion.

Still, you didn’t look back as you entered the ID office. Some of your anger became transparent in your photo-taking, though – this much was obvious when you were handed your ID. Staring at this in horror, you remained frozen in the hall when Noelle finished and joined you.

“Oh, shit,” she said, glancing at your ID. “I feel a lot better about my photo now.”

“Hey!” you said, hand curling around the photo.

Despite this, you laughed, since she was right. On a scale of model to mug shot, your ID was definitely on the latter end.

As you walked away, you shook your head and shoved the ID in your bag. In the corner of one eye, you could see Jimin lingering while he talked with other students. You recognized no one in his group, except for a guy you thought you’d seen on YouTube. Hope on the Street, or something. Probably on the hip-hop track.

“Seriously, though.” Noelle looked at you sympathetically. “What happened? Photographer tell you he was going to murder your family?”

“Ugh, no,” you groaned. “Just got in my own head.”

“Uh-huh. And the fact that you were talking to Park Jimin right before had nothing to do with it?”

Blinking, you glanced at her in surprise. “You saw that?”

“Kind of.” Noelle looked a bit guilty. “I mean, it’s hard not to notice Park Jimin wandering the halls.”

You couldn’t help but scowl at this.

It was unprofessional, but your feud with Jimin went back so far, it was hard for you to be completely impartial. Your rivalry had begun when you’d both been picked to demonstrate the combination at NUVO dance convention and Jimin had tripped you while in the front row. He’d apologized afterwards, claiming ignorance, but you’d seen enough of his dancing by then to know Jimin didn’t make mistakes.

He’d tripped you on purpose.

Jimin was known on the competitive dance circuit, like you, but he had an almost cult-like following on YouTube and TikTok. Rumor had it, he’d been asked to join Ariana Grande on tour the previous summer, which was why you’d thought for sure you were rid of him. It seemed this was no longer the case.

“Yeah,” you grumbled as you neared Jimin in the hall. “He’s here, alright.”

Noelle hid a smile. “You don’t like him.”

“He’s an ass.”

“Yeah, he does,” said Noelle, gazing wistfully at his butt as you passed.

“Noelle!” you snorted. “That’s not what I said.”

“Huh?” Blinking innocently, she returned to you. “Oh, you said – oh. Sorry. Though you said something different.”

The smile she gave was incorrigible though and, despite your best interests, you laughed.

“I mean, he does have a nice butt,” Noelle argued. “Come on, Y/N. You have to admit that,” she continued once you were out of earshot.

“Hadn’t noticed.”

“Liar.”

“I mean, he’s a dancer!” you sputtered. “We all have nice butts.”

“Valid counter-argument,” Noelle said as you walked outside. “But seriously, he’s not a good guy?”

Paused on the sidewalk, you turned to glance at the building. Danley Hall rose above you; the location of class every day for the foreseeable future. Some of that now felt tainted by the prospect of seeing Jimin every day, as well.

With a sigh, you met Noelle’s gaze. “No,” you said at last. “We were rivals all throughout high school and believe me, there aren’t enough terrible superlatives to describe Park Jimin. He’s the most annoying, most childish, least humble–”

“–biggest suck-up, least trustworthy, mind-numbing idiot,” you finished, stabbing your salad with a fork.

Finn laughed at you from across the table. By this point, your feud with Jimin was old news to him. Shaking his head, curly brown hair flopped into his gaze.

“Damn, Y/N,” he said sympathetically. “That sucks. Can’t believe that jerk had the audacity to follow you to Russet. Sounds to me like he can’t get enough of you.”

Ignoring this, you rolled your eyes. “Believe me, it’s not that. Park Jimin doesn’t care about anyone but himself. It’s just Russet, you know? The most prestigious dance academy in the country. I just don’t understand how I didn’t know this,” you sighed, still troubled by the thought. “How come I didn’t know he’d be in the freshman class?”

“I don’t know.” Finn shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t have a Facebook?”

Most of the freshman class had connected on Facebook, at least before someone made a What’s App chat for the group. Finn was probably right about Jimin not giving out his social media.

“That’s probably true,” you grumbled. “But still.”

Finn laughed at your expression. Reaching across the table, he squeezed your hand in his. “Hey,” he said gently. “You beat him for what – four years? So, this is just another four years of putting him in his place. You’ll be fine.”

He was right, although in all honesty, Jimin had won about fifty percent of the time against you. It was one of the reasons you’d pushed yourself so hard in high school.

“You’re right,” you said, somewhat mollified.

“Of course, I am,” Finn said, letting go of your hand. “You’re talking to a man who put his loft bed together alone. By hand.”

You looked at him in alarm. “Did you at least use the manual?”

“Please, Y/N. Men don’t use manuals. We don’t believe in them, much as we don’t believe in cleaning, cooking, or coming in second.”

“Gross,” you groaned, throwing a cherry tomato at him. “Worst ad ever for the male sex. Besides, it’s not true – I beat Jimin in dance plenty of times.”

“Oh, come on,” Finn laughed. “He doesn’t count.”

Something about the way he said this made you sit a bit straighter. Finn resumed cutting into his steak, but you continued to stare at him across the table.

“What do you mean by that?”

Finn looked up in surprise. “Well, you know. It’s not like he’s super manly.”

You stared at him, bewildered.

“I mean, he wears tights, Y/N.”

At this, your eyes narrowed. It wasn’t like you were Jimin’s biggest fan – you despised him, actually – but Finn’s argument was just stupid, even if he meant it as a joke.

“And?” You tilted your head. “He also bench-presses women above his head for fun. Are you being serious? Just because he –”

“Whoa, wait – I was kidding,” Finn said, looking stricken. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just meant it as a joke, you know, since you hate the guy. Truce?”

You hesitated, still miffed, but ultimately deciding it wasn’t worth it. Finn truly looked sorry and this was Jimin, after all. Not that this made it better, but sometimes you grew tired of lecturing your boyfriend. Sometimes, it was just easier to let things go.

“I – yeah,” you said after a long pause. “Fine. Truce.”

“Come on.” Finn smiled and reached for your hand again. “You’re not really mad, are you?” He looked hopefully at you from beneath his curls. “Jimin’s the worst. What’s got you this upset?”

Sexism and toxic masculinity, you wanted to say, but he was right. This was Jimin and you hated that guy. It felt kind of weird to want to defend him to your boyfriend.

Still, though. Finn’s comment was annoying; it was one thing for you to insult Jimin. You did it based on Jimin’s merit, his talent, and the way he kept beating you. You’d never once insulted Jimin because of his gender. In the oddest of ways, it felt like your boyfriend had insulted you when he put down male dancers.

“I’m just annoyed by the whole situation,” you said at last, settling on a half-truth. “I hate the fact that Jimin won our bet.”

Finn nodded in sympathy, settling back in his seat to eat the rest of his meal.

You stared at your salad, no longer as hungry as you had been before. Remembering the bet had thoroughly ruined your appetite.

The bet had been made Senior year, a consequence of years of competition with no real declared winner. Jimin had been the one who suggested it, albeit after you goaded him into it.

It had been your first competition of the season and you’d taken home the top trophy – First Overall in the Senior solo category. Jimin had come in second and when you met backstage, both holding your awards, you’d come to a stop to size one another up.

“Nice trophy,” Jimin said, his tone dripping with derision.

“Right?” Turning it over, you examined it. “Not sure where I’ll put it, though. My shelves at home are pretty full.”

“I think you’ll be fine,” Jimin said. “Competition is pretty stiff this season. I doubt you’ll win again.”

“Are you referring to yourself as my competition, Park?”

“Who else?”

“I wouldn’t worry about me,” you said, stepping closer. “After all, I beat you today. I can do it again.”

“Really?” He smirked. “What competitions are you going to this season?”

You told him, listing them off one by one without looking away.

Jimin listened and nodded. “I’ll be at four of those. How about a bet, then? Whoever wins First Overall at three of the five competitions declares themselves the winner.”

“Hm. What’s the catch?”

“No catch.”

You paused, considering the implications of such a bet. “I don’t get it, though. What does the winner win?”

“Uh, our rivalry? Bragging rights for eternity? Pride? Take your pick, Y/N.”

“Pride,” you said with a snort. “Like you have any of that.”

“I don’t. Let me win it.”

You had to clamp your lips together to keep from laughing; it would’ve ruined your image to laugh at your declared enemy’s joke.

“Alright, fine,” you said with a shake of your head. “But here’s what I want in return – are you listening, Park?”

“Trying to.”

“At the end of this season – when I win – I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me I’m the better dancer.”

Jimin’s smile widened. “And what if I win?”

“Impossible. But if you do,” you allowed. “I’ll tell you you’re the better dancer. Deal?”

“Deal.”

And that had been that.

Shaking your head, you returned yourself to the present and took another bite of your salad.

“We were tied,” you said, the same anger returning. “Jimin had won twice and I had won twice. It wasn’t fair that he just got to win because I forfeited the last competition. I was injured!”

Finn nodded in agreement, just as he had every other time you’d told him this story.

Feeling a little bit guilty, you pushed your tirade aside and tried to focus on dinner. A bet from Senior year wasn’t really important in the long run. All that mattered was that you and Jimin had ended up at the same place.

Still – you couldn’t help but worry he’d pop up one day to make good on the promise. You still hadn’t told him he was the better dancer; it’d be even more humiliating to do so now, surrounded by all your classmates from Russet.

“Anyways,” you said with a sigh. “Enough about him. How was your day?”

Finn began a story about the supposed shower-caddy thief on his floor and you settled back, nodding and laughing at all the right times. Listening to Finn talk was comforting. He reminded you of home, of family dinners and long drives and date nights at the movie theatre.

Being in his presence felt like second semester Senior year – that invincible feeling of knowing where you were headed and feeling unstoppable. Having him in the city made the transition to Russet slightly less terrifying. He was your single known in a future of unknowns.

Well, except for Jimin. Jimin was also known, but in the opposite way. The thought of him was anything but calming; he made your jaw clench, blood pound and heart start to race.

Even in looks, Jimin was the complete opposite of Finn. Where Finn had floppy, brown curls, Jimin’s blonde hair was usually swept back from his face. Finn was a light-hearted guy, always talking with his hands and laughing at nothing, whereas Jimin was nothing but intense. Every time you saw him at competitions, he was either practicing or sleeping. There was no in-between.

Finn took things one day at a time, which was something you envied. You always felt you were hurtling towards something, the days passing by too quickly to do everything that you wanted. It was part of what made you a good couple, you decided. Finn took things slowly and you sped him up.

Aside from his major, Finn’s future was wide open. He had no real direction other than to learn and have fun, which you also envied. As much as you wanted to have fun at Russet, you knew there wasn’t much time on your chosen career path. Each second counted and you couldn’t afford to waste one.

Starting that night.

Finn walked with you back to campus, dropping you off at Grace Hall with a lingering kiss. It became more heated than you anticipated, each of you panting when you broke things off to head inside. It had been a week since he’d come to Redfield, which was the longest you’d been apart since you lost your virginity to Finn at the start of the summer.

The sex had been good as of late, but Noelle was inside and you had no desire to hook up with your boyfriend in the bushes outside your dorm.

Once you’d returned, you collapsed on your futon and groaned when you read the schedule for tomorrow.

Noelle laughed from her bed. “Copson’s ballet class?”

“Copson’s ballet class,” you agreed with a sigh.

Vlad Copson was known, even to the incoming freshmen. He was a brilliant dancer and choreographer, but utterly terrifying as a teacher. Rumor had it every freshman was assigned to him their first year just to lower the class number from eighty to seventy.

You didn’t believe this, of course, but that didn’t keep your insides from churning. As you tried to fall sleep later that night, you realized with certainty that this was a beginning. Everything you’d done before now, everything you’d once achieved no longer mattered.

Everyone at Russet was on the same foot and all that mattered was what lay before you. Not at all cheered by this thought, you pulled up your covers and eventually fell asleep.

Vlad Copson turned out to be exactly what you had pictured; an immaculate man with a stern demeanor, wearing the exact same dress code he expected of his students.

He stood before the class the next morning, next to the stereo with both hands clasped before him.

“Welcome,” he said, looking over his students. “I’m Vlad Copson, but you may call me Mr. Vlad for the duration of class. This is Ballet, Level 1.”

Approximately twenty faces stared back, caught in a mixture of certain awe and terror. You knew yourself to be among them, standing at the back of the room with Irene and Noelle. You’d been relieved to find them both in your classes, since there were two other schedules they could’ve been sorted into.

Unfortunately for you though, prep school Sabrina and hellion Jimin were also part of your schedule. They stood at the front on the opposite side and you did your best not to look at them, knowing no good would come from it.

Everyone in class was dressed exactly the same. The women wore leotards, buns, ballet belts, tights and pointe shoes. By this stage in your career, you were expected to do the entirety of ballet class on pointe. There had been much rosin-ing and banging of shoes before the class had started.

“Thank you to those who were on time,” Mr. Vlad said, casting a pointed glance at a boy near the front. Said boy had entered the room a few seconds after 8:00 AM. “For today, I’ll be lenient and let everyone stay. From now on though, class will start promptly on the hour. Those who aren’t ready will be asked to leave and come back when they can respect my time. Understood?”

A ripple of voices chorused yes.

“Good.” Mr. Vlad arched a brow. “You may have heard I’m a tough teacher. This is true. I am hard on my students, since you’re expected to be the best. Do you know how many applications Russet received this year alone? Nearly two thousand, and these were only from those who felt qualified to apply. Russet is a once in a lifetime opportunity, so I expect everyone who enters my classroom to act like it.”

Listening to him speak sent a bead of sweat down your neck. Although he didn’t say it specifically, you knew what Mr. Vlad meant. There were two thousand qualified individuals waiting to take your place if you failed. And that didn’t even include other students at the Academy, or even other dancers who waited out in the real world.

“For those who make it to the end, this will be a life-changing event.” Mr. Vlad paused. “There are teachers here who are far better than I – and I’m considered to be one of the best in the world. You’ll be pushed to your limits, but you’ll also grow at a tremendous pace. We gave you a spot because we believe in each of you. Prove us wrong, though,” he warned. “And that will be that.”

A lingering silence fell and in that quiet, you and Noelle glanced at each other. Again, you were glad for a friendly face. The entire speech would’ve been unbearable without one.

The boy who’d been late was as red as a tomato, clearly embarrassed at having been singled out. You would’ve felt bad, except you knew it wouldn’t be the last time Mr. Vlad put someone on the spot. The attention could easily swing to you before the end of class.

“That’s enough chit-chat, I think.” Mr. Vlad turned towards the stereo. “We’ll start at the barre.”

No one moved and once he’d reached the music, he arched a brow. “Why is everyone still standing in the center, gawking? Barre!”

Had you been watching from outside, it might’ve seemed comical how quickly everyone scattered. You and Noelle chose a barre near the front, setting water bottles down and moving to stand at the center.

Placing yourself in first position, you turned your head and surveyed yourself in the mirror.

“Eyes on me, not the mirror!” Mr. Vlad called, forcing your gaze his way. “Before we get started, I’ll assign your ballet partners for the semester. You won’t do anything with them until across the floor, but I hate to disrupt our flow later on. When I call your name, raise your hand.”

Your heart sank as you turned to face forward.

This was something you’d known was coming. Ballet partnering was part of the set first year curriculum, but you’d been under the severe misimpression you’d be allowed to choose your own partner. Information on the process had been limited and you’d heard conflicting accounts from upperclassman before your arrival. Apparently, the teachers did something different each year.

“Ahn, Irene!”

Irene raised her hand, waiting awkwardly to hear her partner’s name.

“Olson, Brian! You two are partners.”

The red-faced late boy looked at Irene in alarm, then nodded. Irene nodded as well, lowering her hand and Noelle winced.

“Sucks,” she muttered beneath her breath. “Already paired with trouble.”

Privately, you agreed. It’d be unfortunate to be partnered with someone who’d already been singled out. You could only hope your assigned partner would be better than that.

Mr. Vlad turned. “Y/L/N, Y/N!”

Your hand immediately lifted, waiting for what seemed like forever, until –

“Park, Jimin!”

Author’s Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JIMIN! Thank you for reading 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre will be posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.

RAISE THE BARRE MASTER LIST

#btsbookclub #smutcentralnet #bangtanarmynet #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #bts series #jimin series #jimin writing #bts writing #bts e2l #jimin e2l

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forabeatofadrum · 3 years ago

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e pare stella che tramuti loco - chapter five

Notes: Sitting by the seaside, drinking up the sunshine. You're here so why don't we go, dancing in Sanremo!

Yes, what would a Paradiso installment be without a city trip? The italicised text is part the lyrics of MIKA’s Sanremo. I love the song and also the meaning behind it, so I decided to pick Sanremo. I’ve never been there before, so I’ll leave you with a reminder of the Milan disclaimer: most of the places mentioned are chosen at random and I cannot personally endorse them. Since this is a future fic, I also obviously cannot guarantee that these places still exist in 2031.

Enjoy!

AO3

–

2031

BAZ

It’s always a bit tricky to travel around with a small child. I mean, I suppose. This is our first actual trip with Rosemary. Simon and I have had some moments to ourselves in the past year, and then Ms. Snow would babysit, but now we’re actually going on holiday as a family.

We’re not going super far away and we won’t stay long. It’s a four hour drive to San Remo. We picked this spot because Simon’s never been there, which sounds unreal, but then again there are plenty of places in the UK that I’ve never even seen.

I’m driving and I can see Rosemary in my rear-view mirror. She’s safely buckled up in her kiddie seat and she’s playing make believe with Pipi, the toy that Mordelia gave her. It’s short for pipistrello. It keeps her calm.

I used to be a bit of a fussy child while travelling, but Rosemary’s on her best behaviour. Four hours in the car is probably long for her, and it’s only the drive! But she deserves to see more of the world, as Simon says. We need a change of scenery, to be honest. The move to our new house outside Salò, up in the mountains of San Felice del Benaco was hectic, even when I had magic on my side. Simon and I often lament about missing living in Salò, but Rosemary now has her own room, Simon has a bigger kitchen, and there’s a lot of outside space. Besides, we have a view on Salò from our garden so we can stare longingly at the place to be.

Our navigation tells us that we’re almost there.

“Siamo quasi arrivati,” Simon says to Rosemary, “Ci siamo quasi.”

“Okay,” Rosemary says off-handedly. She’s not really paying attention.

“Are you excited, little puff?” Simon then asks, since he’s not satisfied with the lack of enthusiasm. I roll my eyes. She’s only a year old.

“Yes.”

Simon lets it slide. I laugh. He is ridiculous.

Simon and I mostly talk in English to her, but Simon sometimes throws in some Italian. I do too, but to a lesser extent. We decided to not do the approach where one person speaks English and the other Italian. After all, Simon grew up with his mum speaking English and it never hindered his Italian, so Rosemary will be fine.

Besides, she’s so young. Sometimes she seems to speak Italish. Normally I’d have an aneurysm at the butchering of language, but it’s the best way to describe it and she sounds adorable.

San Remo is definitely wired towards posh, rich people.

I fit right in.

Simon doesn’t.

But I don’t mind. I’ve always liked it when the two of us are together like this, since sometimes people can’t believe we’re together. I’m walking around in a custom suit, dress shoes and a flowered shirt. Simon’s walking around in an old t-shirt that I Cleaned as a whistle’d, trainers, and worst of all, a pair of jorts.

(Shepard Bunce will forever be on my shit list for introducing Simon to the atrocity that are jorts.)

At least he gives me full reign on dressing Rosemary. As long as she can’t develop a fashion style of her own, I’m in charge. She’s walking between us, holding our hands, and the dress that she’s wearing is a gift from Agatha.

Oh, yes, we’re also wearing our ridiculously big sunhats. It completely ruins the vibe of my outfit, but Rosemary loves it and I allow it.

It’s a Tuesday, which means that there’s a market in San Remo. The three of us walk around the Piazza Eroi Sanremesi. It’s next to La Pigna, the Medieval city centre. We’ll go there afterwards. Right now we’re here to buy some snacks.

It’s crowded, so Simon and I make sure that Rosemary doesn’t slip away. She sometimes tries, because she wants to walk on her own, now that she can do so, but we won’t let her. Besides, she’s still learning, but Rosemary stubbornly believes that she has perfected the whole walking thing, which is why she insists on walking. We try to make it fun for her by occasionally swinging her between us or I will throw her in the air. It makes her laugh a lot.

The market doesn’t interest me that much. We’re itching to go to La Pigna, since that’s recommended. We can’t fill an entire day with things, since Rosemary will get tired. That’s the downside of travelling with a tiny child, but if Rosemary needs to sleep, then one of us will just carry her. I have vampire strength and Simon has strength of his own.

I am now able to lift Rosemary with one hand and she laughs when I throw her in the air, only to catch her perfectly with my great speed and reflexes. I see some people stare with wide eyes, afraid that I’ll drop her, but I can do this.

After living as a fully-fledged vampire for just over decade, it’s almost weird to think that I spent the first twenty-one years of my life repressing my vampirism. I can’t even remember what it was like to not have this strength, or this hearing, or this echolocation, or these reflexes. Sure, I had them, but I put so much effort in pretending to be human.

(I didn’t realise how tedious it was until I let it go.)

So far, Rosemary is very chipper. “Look there!” is her new favourite sentence. Simon and I were worried for a moment, since her last big trip ended with the loss of her parents, but it goes swimmingly. We still don’t know how much she remembers. But Rosemary is clearly enjoying it and we haven’t even seen the flower parade yet! That’s for tomorrow.

Right now, we’re walking through La Pigna. We’re on our way to Giardini Regina Elena. Apparently, the view is really beautiful from up there. La Pigna itself is interesting. The state of this place is less than ideal, but that sort of works, since it’s an old city centre. There are little shops everywhere.

Once we’ve climbed up to Giardini Regina Elena, it’s indeed beautiful. You can see San Remo and the sea. Rosemary’s on my back, since she got tired from all the steps, but now she desperately wants me to put her down again, so that she can wander off. I won’t let that happen.

“No, Rosemary, first let papà talk about the city.”

Simon’s never been here before, but even after all these years, he cannot pass up an opportunity to be a tour guide. I know he’s done his research.

“Sanremo’s been around since the medieval period, which is why La Pigna exists,” Simon immediately starts and I still love it when he goes into this tour guide mood. He takes it so seriously, looking all serious and almost ready to fight. “The walls around La Pigna were built to protect the city from raids. Sanremo became really big in the nineteenth century, because that’s when the tourism really hit off, so Sanremo started to cater to the rich and famous, especially the ones from England.”

“We fit right in.”

“You fit right in,” Simon argues. Well, true, the jorts prove his point, but technically speaking, Simon’s also part of a lineage of rich English mages. (Merlin, I wonder if earlier generations of our families have been here?)

“I do.”

“But yeah, nineteenth century. There’s where all those luxurious villas and hotels stem from. I know we aren’t going to Villa Nobel, since we’re doing the flowers instead, but Nobel is one of the most well-known inhabitants. Oh, and empress Sissi vacationed here!”

We continue our long tradition of making selfies from high places, although this is our first one with Rosemary in it. It’s not going well, since she tries to reach out to grab Simon’s mobile, but it leads to some ‘action’ shots of Rosemary pushing my face out of her way and Simon looks shocked.

This other family takes pity on us and they offer to make some photos. We accept, because those selfies are fun, but we’d love to have some proper photos of our first trip.

SIMON

Sanremo is for the cultured people like Baz. There’s theatres and there’s the symphonic orchestra and the casino has special Tuesdays about literature. Baz is marvelling in it, but I am uncultured, so I thoroughly enjoy walking between the palm trees on the boulevard and watching all those hotels. We’ve been walking for a long time. We first did the Corso Degli Inglesi route, which shows off a lot of villas and beautiful gardens with flowers. Now we’re on our way to find a place to eat near the beach.

Rosemary’s sound asleep and I am carrying her around. The walk was simply put too long for a little child, which we expected. She needs her daily nap. Sometimes people stop us to tell us that we have a lovely baby. We do, we really do.

She’s so comfortable, sleeping against me.

“She trusts you,” Baz keeps saying.

She does.

I wonder for how much longer that will go on.

No. Stop, I think. We’re here on vacation. I deserve a fucking break from my thoughts. We’ve had her for a year now and all is fine. She likes us. We have a nice house. Baz loves his career path. We sued my former workplace into bankruptcy and we’ve given the money away to charity (since, yes, Baz does have a point, we’re both from rich families). We’re doing extremely well and we’re very happy. Being a stay-at-home dad is incredibly fulfilling, despite my nervosity. Rosemary makes everything better.

Baz keeps complimenting me as well, since he knows I’m sometimes still afraid of failing her. He keeps making comments like that. “You’re good with her.” “She likes you.” “I love how delicate you are when she’s around.”

I was always a bit of a fighter. Even as a kid, I used to play pretend with sticks as swords. I liked roughhousing. I pretended that everything was a big challenge, just for fun. Even my jobs were challenges. I will be the one to give you the best information on northern Italy. I will be the one to mix cement as perfectly as possible. I will help the most customers in one day.

I even took on my relationship with Baz as a challenge and a fight. That makes it sound like a bad thing, but it isn’t. It’s more that it gives me a purpose and something worth fighting for. Baz jokes that I went in headfirst with raised fist, puffed out chest and tilted chin. There are rough kisses and good-mannered teasing. Our relationship and marriage is a constant thing in my life that I will keep fighting for, even when I don’t have to.

But Rosemary doesn’t need me to be a fighter. She needs me to be soft.

Having a kid does change your entire life. Rosemary is our first priority now. Baz and I can no longer stay out for fun on a whim. We have to make sure that she’s okay. Even this trip is clearly different than earlier trips. We’re so lucky that Rosemary can sleep unbothered in our arms, otherwise we would’ve had to limit our little excursions and we’d have to stay in the hotel, so that Rosemary can nap.

It’s all worth it, though.

Baz and I wake her up when it’s time to eat. Before we go to the restaurant, I put Rosemary down. Baz’s poured some blood in a plastic bottle and he pours some of the content in the bottle cap for Rosemary. I help Rosemary. She’s gotten better at holding a cup on her own, but the bottle cap is small and that makes it difficult for her. The two of them drink and I have gotten used to watching my husband and daughter drink blood, but it’s always funny when they drink from a bottle.

Well, Rosemary doesn’t have most teeth yet, so fangs are completely out of the question, so she can’t drain a bag, but knowing that it’s blood is just so funny to me. Everyone else will think it’s thick syrup. (I’ve once tried it, just for fun, and it tastes like steel, but according to Baz, the vampirism dissolves that taste.)

I’m just standing here, waiting for my vampire family to finish up the blood drinking. It’s my mum’s blood. They’re drinking my mum’s blood from a bottle. Well, I’ve seen weirder things at this point. (Shepard once introduced me to a talking river!)

Baz and Rosemary’s existence has brought the CoMa and CoMi together and maghi have started donating blood as well. The CoMa and CoMi will never fully be one, but it’s become more normal for maghi and creatures to get along, also now that most of the zone morte are gone. Fiona, Nicodemus and Luigi aren’t the only mixed family these days!

Baz says that maghi blood is even better than pig blood and one time he even allowed himself to bite my mum. Is it weird that I was jealous of my mum? Will Rosemary one day drink from nonna Lucy as well?

Rosemary spills a little bit, but I shield my family as Baz cleans her dress with an Out, out, you damned spot.

“Well done, little puff,” he says and he ruffles her hair, “Bravissima.”

“Eat?” she asks and she pats her little mouth.

“Yes, yes,” I say and I pick her up. She flings her arms around my neck with ease, “And we have a nice view on the sea, Rosemary. Il mare!”

Rosemary holds out her hands and Baz and I both take one in our own hands. The three of us walk to the restaurant.

Sanremo is called the Città dei Fiori for a reason. Every February or March, the Carnevale di Sanremo takes place. We’re here for the flower parade, the Sanremo in fiore. Cities in the area present an original composition of flowers displayed on moving car.

As expected, the city is packed with tourists. I once read that around 60.000 people travel to see the parade. It’s also broadcasted on RAI UNO, so I know it’s a big happenstance, but now that we’re actually in the midst of all these people, it’s insane.

Baz and I hold on to Rosemary. She once again wants to walk a bit on her own and we’re definitely not letting her out of our sight when it’s this crowded. I’m not going to make the same mistake that my mum made all those years ago in Lazise. Rosemary can fight us if she wants, but we’re not letting her walk on her own.

We considered paying for seats, but being crammed against some metal fences in order to get a glimpse of some flowers is part of the experience! Baz and Rosemary have respectfully left their sunhats in the hotel so that they wouldn’t block the view.

Okay, sure, Baz has used some kind of spell that made it possible to be in the front row, but no one has to know.

We’re not going to stay for the entire parade. It’s too long for Rosemary and we definitely need to eat.

The parade is so worth it. There are so many floats with extraordinary flower compositions. Apart from the floats, there are dancers and marching bands. It’s so beautiful and the sun makes all the colours of the flowers pop even more. I know that there aren’t maghi in Sanremo, since there’s no CoMa meeting place close by, because otherwise I would’ve expected this to be magickal. It’s almost difficult to believe that all these flower compositions are assembled by Normali.

“Look there! Look there!” Rosemary keeps saying. She points at every float that passes. Some notice and they pay extra attention to her. One woman even handed her a flower and Rosemary looked at her as if she was a goddess. Rosemary might not be much a talker (she literally can’t be, she’s only a year old), but she’s such an expressive child when she wants to be. She’s constantly pointing and gesturing.

At one point, Baz and I spend more time looking at her than at the actual parade. Watching Rosemary enjoy her first trip has been the highlight of all of this. Baz and I smile brightly. Her happiness is contagious.

This is the best vacation ever!

–

End notes: We can be there in a couple of hours, to the place with the yellow flowers. Somewhere only we know. Sunset in Sanremo.

#snowbaz #e pare stella che tramuti loco #carry on #simon snow series #holy fuck I wrote #2021 #multichaptered #story: paradiso

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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years ago

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Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 6.11}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.5k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

It was that time of the year again before Robin knew. As always, christmas had approached fast and suddenly rather than steadily, but the festive spirit had been long evident throughout the entire month of December. The holidays this year looked a little different than usual though; Cas had been asked by a fifth year student to attend the new year's ball with him, upon which she spontaneously had decided to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays. Robin had offered to take Jorien to the ball as her plus one, but the girl had decided to just go home as planned. So it was just Cas and Robin who would attend the ball this year.

Honestly, Robin felt weary of the boy who had asked Cas out. He seemed nice enough at the first glance, but something about him was ringing an alarm bell in the back of her mind. Cas obviously didn't care about Robin's words of warning, saying how she at least had a date for the ball, which probably should've hurt Robin more than it did. After this rather uncomfortable conversation however, she had decided to keep her concerns to herself, but an eye on Cas nonetheless. She didn't want her to get hurt, not even by something that, to her, was so ridiculously irrelevant as teenage drama. Because she knew that to Cas, it wasn't irrelevant at all.

The last day of the year came, and before long Robin thanked herself for actually bothering to invest in a dress this year. And she foremost thanked herself for having the endurance last summer to actually make an effort and not just get the first best one in Diagon Alley, which would've merely been a differently coloured version of what pretty much all of the other girls wore (with a few honorable exceptions, of course). No, Robin had made the decision to go with her own taste rather than the attempt to fit in, and she still stood behind it to the fullest.

Cas on the other hand had about five different dresses lying on her bed and was desperate to pick one, which did not even come as a surprise to Robin. The girl's love for fashion had exploded rather than faded, and while Robin had no idea why Cas had packed so many pretty dresses unaware that she would be attending the ball, it also didn't particularly surprise her.

"You should wear the dark blue one." Robin commented from her seat on her own bed, while she unsuccessfully tried to untangle her hair. "It reminds me of the nightsky. And who doesn't love the night?"

"Most people don't, actually." Cas sighed in exaggerated despair. "I was thinking about the peach coloured one with the ruffles."

"You're the fashion guru." Robin shrugged. "But I think darker colours are more classy. And the ball is very classy, most of the time. Or trying to be anyway."

"Classy or stuffy?"

"A bit of both, perhaps. Foremost, it is entirely what you make of it."

"In that case, I'll wear the peach coloured one." Cas decided with a more or less determined expression. "What about you? We're gonna be late if you don't get started at once!"

"Well, I don't have an entire wardrobe of dresses to pick between. I showered and sorted out my hair; I'll literally be done within five minutes from this point on."

"What about makeup? What about hairstyles?! What about shoes?!" Cas asked in return, incredulous about Robin's lack of enthusiasm about these things. "Seriously, aren't you gonna make any effort at all?"

"As you said, I don't have a date anyway. Nobody expects me to make an effort." Robin shrugged in return, unbothered by her roommate's comments. "And since you obviously didn't see me for the last few years, I will kindly let you know that putting on an actual dress this year IS me making an effort."

"I cannot believe you. I just cannot believe you…" Cas rolled her eyes as she muttered to herself, but then went ahead to get ready herself and leave Robin reading on her bed in peace for the next hour and a half. That's how long it took Cas to go through all of her extensive preparations and procedures, and Robin thought it was admirable how much effort she put into this indeed.

Finally, twenty minutes before the ball would begin and while Cas was still in the bathroom making 'last minute' adjustments to her colorful eye makeup, Robin got up from her bed with a sigh, put her book down and dug her dress out of her trunk at last. Like most things she bought these days, it was almost entirely black, but for the silver ornamentations and spiky flowers sewed onto the shoulders. Everything from the waist down was flowing black fabric, as was the long pieces that attached to the shoulders instead of sleeves, billowing down the arms like a backless cape. That precisely was also what made it difficult to put on, without stepping onto the piles of fabric that however barely brushed the ground once she pulled it up. The neckline came in high at the sides, almost high enough to cover up her scar, while the front was curved into a low V shape, that had always reminded Robin of spades. The solid black of the simple corset made up for the detailing on the shoulders and the heavy billowing fabrics of the skirt, and its snug fit and the thick fabric were comforting rather than confining to her. For once, Robin actually felt powerful through wearing a mere piece of clothing. And while perhaps she might not fit in with the other students, she definitely would with the professors.

"Bloody hell!" Cas suddenly exclaimed, and Robin jumped in return, twirling around to face the girl who spoke on in the meanwhile. "How dare you looking that gorgeous?!"

Robin's face heated up in an instant, and even though it was Cas she was talking to, she couldn't help being flustered. "Uh, thanks, I guess."

"I mean, I still stand with my statement that you shouldn't wear so much black, but good gracious… that dress is a piece of art. And it just screams 'Robin' to me, so you actually did pick well for once!"

"Don't sound so surprised." Robin rolled her eyes, while she had to smile nonetheless. "But thank you anyway. I wanted to look like myself tonight, and not like I dressed up as someone I'm not."

"But dressing up as someone you're not for one night is the entire point of it!" Cas replied with a grin, then dimmed it down to a smile. "But I understand you, and I think you look exactly like yourself. Just more beautiful than usual."

"Thanks…" Robin scoffed in humour, torn between sarcasm and honesty, and thus settled for both. "Again."

"So tell me, who do you wanna impress with that dress?" Cas quirked an eyebrow at Robin, smirking while she observed her closely. "And don't tell me no one, because I know you, and you wouldn't have made an effort just for yourself."

"Everyone." Robin answered instead, deeming it just as not-saying as 'no one'. Meanwhile, she tried to find a place to store her wand, which was turning out to be an actual problem now. No sleeves, no real sleeves at least, and no hemlines or pockets. Great. Then however an idea struck her, and in no time she had twisted her hair up into a bun, which she could easily fixate with her wand indeed. Two problems solved with one action, wonderful.

"I cannot believe you just did that." Cas commented on Robin's action in an instant. "And I cannot believe that it actually looks good! I spent an hour doing my hair, and you just… use your wand like a hair accessory within two bloody seconds."

Robin sighed in return, but she had to smile once again at Cas and her view of the world. "Your hair looks a million times better, believe me. I'm not trying to look good, I'm only trying to look acceptable while being functional. That's a difference."

"If you say so…" Cas sighed, and the two girls finally started making their way up to the great hall. "Coming back to my question though; who do you really want to impress? Is it that boy who's sitting next to you in Professor Morgan's class since recently?"

"Alexander? God no!" Robin snorted, shaking her head to herself while she actually enjoyed striding through the hallways quite so elegantly for once. "If you must know, I'm not trying to impress someone, but to prove a point to someone."

"Uuh!" Cas squealed quietly, skipping in her steps next to Robin in glee. "To whom? And which point?"

"You would do well to focus on your own date for now. Where did he want to meet you again?"

"Just outside the hall. You won't scare him off, Robin, will you? I know you don't like him, but he's really cool and so are his friends, and I don't wanna be the stupid third year whose big sister has to watch over her."

"You won't even notice me tonight, unless you need me. Good?"

"Yes. Thank you." Cas smiled, then took a deep breath while her smile widened even more. "I'm actually going to the ball! With a cute boy! Can you believe it?! I've waited for this moment for months!!!"

"I hope tonight is everything you dreamt of." Robin replied with a small smile, but it was tainted by concern no less. Just shortly before they reached the last crossing before the great hall, she turned to Cas once more. "Don't get into trouble, and don't do anything stupid. I don't want to find you drunk in our bathroom later or anything of that sort."

"Yes, professor." Cas rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, but gave Robin a small hug nonetheless, before she skipped ahead and towards wherever she would meet her date.

Robin decided to give Cas a little while at least, to spare her the embarrassment of arriving with her watchdog indeed. When she finally did make her way into the great hall, she was barely still on time, with two more minutes to go until the festivities would begin. The very moment she entered the hall, a few more eyes were drawn to her than in the last years, but not enough to make her feel observed. At least Robin didn't notice enough eyes on her to feel like people were actually paying attention to her. In an instant, she moved to stand off to the side and let her eyes trail over the crowds in the search for her own company.

"Looking for something?" Snape's voice was so close behind her that Robin jumped for the second time this evening, but then turned around to him with a smile. The very moment she did, she believed to see a glimpse of sincere awe flashing through his eyes, but she might as well be mistaken. She probably was, unfortunately. It might just be the candles and some wishful thinking.

"Looking for someone." She smiled up at him in amusement. "But it seems that someone found me first."

"How very fortunate for you." He replied with a not-smirk, as much of it as he would show in public at least, and his gaze flickered over her garments for just a second before returning to her eyes. "Did you have to choose black?"

"Obviously." She smirked, feeling highly amused by his difficulty to show a suitable reaction to her choice of outfit.

"It suits you."

Now, that she hadn't expected, but she appreciated it nonetheless as her smirk turned into a smile. "Thank you."

"How… came the change in your choice of attire for tonight's event?"

"You complained last year that I was wearing the same thing I wore to the conference the summer before." Robin shrugged, observing his almost uncertain expression. "Thought I'd prove to you that I can look nice too, when I actually try."

"You didn't need to." He mused, but before Robin could give a reply, both their attention was drawn to the front of the room where Dumbledore was getting started with his welcoming speech.

Robin turned towards the front to at least pretend to listen, and a few seconds later she noticed the gentle hand that came to rest on the small of her back. She had to smile in an instant, glancing up at Snape out of the corners of her eyes, but he was looking towards the front as neutrally and indifferently as always, always the contrast to his lingering touch. Oh, how she had missed this.

… … …

As soon as the possibility had come up, Snape and Robin had moved back into their usual corner and to their usual table. For a good two hours they stayed sitting there like always, in their usual habit of gossiping and teasing, until at last the inevitable happened, the one thing Robin had indeed seen coming all along.

With the saddest face in history, Cas came approaching them with an expression showing precisely that she was barely able to keep her tears from spilling over. Robin's immediate line of thought went along the path of 'told you so', but she frowned it away and out of her mind, and instead jumped to her feet in honest concern.

"I'll be back in a second." She said to Snape, who nodded in return, then she went to meet Cas a few steps further down the wall. They weren't technically out of sight, but out of earshot at least. "What happened?"

"As if that would be so hard to guess." Cas replied with a scoff, crossing her arms over her chest but making herself so small at the same time that it appeared more as a gesture of holding herself together than defiance. Robin simply went ahead and hugged her then, out of an impulse, and Cas immediately clung onto her in return. "You were right… He's an asshole."

"What did he do?" Robin asked softly, drawing reassuring circles on her friend's back, while on the inside however, she felt furious. Whatever that boy had done, he would pay for making Cas cry. Even if it was just teenage drama, Robin wasn't having it tonight. Or perhaps she just needed a deserving victim for her own annoyance at Cas for not listening to her any earlier.

"He and his two stupid friends wanted to go and hang out somewhere else, somewhere more interesting than here and 'have a little fun'. I said I didn't want to, so they just made fun of me for being such a prudish child and dreadfully boring. Then they just laughed at me and Jos said he should never have asked me to the ball." She mumbled into Robin's shoulder, and only a few seconds later she looked up at her again. "I'm not boring, am I?"

"Not at all." Robin replied with a small smile. "I'm very proud of you for not letting them drag you into something you didn't want to do."

"It's not even that I'm scared to do something forbidden… I couldn't care less, honestly, unless it's something really bad. But I just want to stay here for a while, you know… to enjoy the ball. I like the ball." Cas shrugged, still looking sad about it. "No need to insult me for that, right?"

"Nothing gives them the right to insult you at all." Robin replied pointedly, then let her eyes trail over the room for a second before turning back to Cas. "Did they leave already?"

"No… they wanted to find some other people first who would actually be willing to go with them for their private party." The girl scoffed, pushing her hair behind her ear with a bit more confidence already. "Why?"

"I should have a little talk with Jos, and with his friends as well if needed." Robin stated in a dangerous calm, then started pulling Cas along, back towards her table. Without making much fuss about it, she sat Cas down next to Snape. "Wait here, yes? I'll be right back."

"You don't have to, Robin, really, it's-..."

"Yes, I do have to." She replied calmly, ignoring both Cas' insecure look and Snape's mildly irritated one, and then turned on her heel to find the boy in question. They really needed to have a talk; no one mistreated or ridiculed her friends.

Jos really wasn't too difficult to find, his group of friends practically entertained the entire section of the room. 'Cool and popular' Cas had said… more like 'jocks and jerks'. Robin approached him without slowing down, and even though the boy was only a fifth year, he was a good head taller than her. That didn't intimidate her in the least however, and while being surrounded by so many people, so many strangers, would've made her nervous in any other situation, it did not do so now. She was on a mission, and somehow her body seemed to understand that.

"Jos?" She merely asked in a cold calm tone once she stood facing the boy.

"Uh, yeah? That would be me." He quirked an eyebrow down at her in amusement, while his pals nudged him in the sides with utterly pathetic grins. "The one and only."

"I thought so." Robin returned, then didn't waste a second to follow her impulses once again. The thing about physically strong people was that they usually spent ridiculously little time guarding their minds. Thus it was but an effortless thought on Robin's part, and she was in his mind, staring him down at the same time while he stumbled backwards against a table, then slumped down on the bench behind his legs. She felt his mind trying to lock her out, but it was a pathetic attempt at the most, and thus she went ahead to give him a very clear visual of what would happen to him should he ever dare to say a single bad word about Cas again, in her presence or not. After half a minute of this the boy was a terrified mess, half sitting and half sprawled out on the bench, looking up at Robin with teary eyes while she withdrew from his mind at last. Then she turned to his gawking friends, who hadn't even tried to help their pal.

"Would anyone else like to know what happens when you mess with the wrong people?" She asked politely, and five people shook their heads immediately. As much as she wanted to smirk at that, she kept her face neutral. "Great. Have a nice evening."

Without waiting for their reactions, she turned around once more and made her way through the hall and back towards her own table, feeling her confidence fade the moment she was out of their sight. Geez… she really shouldn't have done that. All those years she'd been doing her best to stand above such impulsive behaviour, and here she was now, mildly torturing a lower year. Letting off steam on other people. Great job, idiot. Perhaps it was the dress that gave her the illusion of too much power. Perhaps it was Snape's company.

"And? How did it go?" Cas asked the very second Robin approached them, and the girl luckily looked a lot more like herself already. Not sad and small anymore, but excited and almost happy again, and Robin found that this was what had made her own uncharacteristic behavior worth it in the end. To see her friends happy, she would gladly go against her higher standards.

"I made him cry." Robin sighed in resignation, and sat down on the bench in between Cas and Snape. "It was a very wrong thing to do though, so don't take it as an example. A negative one, perhaps."

"I don't care if it was wrong, you made him cry for me and that's awesome." Cas grinned, then almost knocked Robin off the bench with a tight hug. "Thank you! I really should have listened to you earlier…"

"It's nothing, really. But yes, you should have." Robin huffed in amusement, even though she still felt mildly concerned about the entire 'revenge leads to more revenge' thing. But she hadn't seen any speckle of that in Jos' mind, so perhaps it really wasn't an issue for once. Not when it was about something so minor, with somebody so imbecilic.

"Uhm, sorry to, uh… to interrupt…" A foreign voice drew Robin's attention to a blond curly haired boy she couldn't remember seeing before, and Cas followed suit while she let go of Robin. The boy obviously seemed unsettled either by Snape or Robin, perhaps by both of them, for he only glanced at them nervously from time to time and otherwise focused on Cas entirely. "I, uh… I couldn't help noticing what my idiot classmates said to you, and well… I just wanted to ask if you were alright?"

Cas blushed a deep crimson, and Robin had to subtly nudge her in the side eventually to remind her that she could speak. "Uh, yeah, I… Thank you. That's… very nice of you to ask."

Robin could practically feel how Snape rolled his eyes at the scene, but she was also very much aware of the fact that he was still here despite everything that had happened in the past minutes. She couldn't help nudging him in the side as well, smirking, and he gave her a glare in return. Robin smiled even more.

"Would you… uh, would you care for a dance perhaps? With me, I mean? I could try to cheer you up with my horrible dancing skills and ridiculous jokes." The blonde boy finally got out with a crooked smile, and Cas nodded immediately. Then she gave Robin a questioning look, but she just motioned for her to go ahead already. Thus, within seconds, Cas and the boy vanished in the crowd.

"I have never seen something more pathetic in my entire life." Snape finally remarked dryly, and Robin had to snort at the comment. It was absolutely only for show, and she knew that just as well as him.

"Oh come on, I think it was adorable." She replied with a smirk. "I feel a lot better about this one than that prick she came here with."

"You are aware that I missed the important bits of the conversation, yes?"

"I know." Robin sighed, then turned to him to explain. "Fifth year, straight brown hair, very tall, called Jos. Might be a nickname though. You know him?"

"Yes. I could've told you from the start that he is a complete dunderhead."

"I for my part knew that from the start as well, but Cas didn't want to believe me when I told her. Either way, he asked her to the ball, she had high hopes, but then he and his friends made fun of her, right before she came here. So much for the pre-story." Robin sighed again, her smile faltering. "Then I did something stupid and very much unlike me. I went over there and basically bashed him in the head with a few pictures strategically placed in his mind, of what I would do to him if he kept on being an arse."

"So that's what got him to shiver in fear at the mere sight of you." Snape mused with a not-smirk, and Robin was twice surprised in return.

"You saw that?" She asked first of all, frowning.

"I did indeed. Most of it, at least."

"And you're not disappointed? Not even telling me how idiotic that was? How imbecile and irresponsible and redundant?" She added the second question right on, and part of her hoped that he would do just what she'd said, and part of her hoped for the opposite. "You've been telling me since first year how stupid impulsive reactions like this are!"

"Why would I need to tell you something you are already well aware of?" He quirked an eyebrow at her, but upon her defeated expression, he finally sighed as well. "Sometimes we do a wrong thing for the right reasons. You defended someone you care about. I doubt that could even be considered wrong in the first place."

"And using legilimency on lower years? How are you going to justify that?"

"I won't, that certainly was wrong by any means. But I enjoyed watching it nonetheless." He said with another not-smirk, which finally got Robin to smile as well. "You certainly know how to intimidate people. It's quite impressive."

"I learned from the very best." She replied with a smirk, and he rolled his eyes in return, while his own smile still lingered on his lips.

They just kept on chatting for a while then, the incident soon forgotten and insignificant, and before long things returned to normal. Almost normal, for they were left sitting closer together than ever after Cas had left, shoulders almost touching now, heat brushing against the bare skin of Robin's arms when her robe sleeves moved out of the way. She knew that he must take notice of the closeness as well, of her shoulder gently brushing against his arm from time to time whenever she moved, and yet he didn't move away at all. The thought made her smile.

They had been listening to the music for a while, merely enjoying each other's company like they did so very often, when Robin caught sight of Cas dancing with the blond boy again. It had been an hour at least since they had left to dance; obviously it was going quite well, and Robin couldn't help being curious.

"Who is the boy dancing with Cas anyway?" She asked Snape, while still keeping her eyes on the couple on the dancefloor.

"Curious, are we?" He mused in return, undoubtedly humoured. "His name is Simon Durrell, fifth year. Ravenclaw. He is quite horrible at potions, but smarter and therefore less of a nuisance than his peers. Wears his heart on his sleeves quite like your friend."

"Good." Robin smiled up at Snape at last. "I would've hated having to behead him if he was a jerk to Cas. She looks happy dancing with him."

"You should be dancing as well." Snape said in a sudden feigned neutrality that made Robin's smile fade in return. "One doesn't wear a gown like that only to hide in a corner all night."

"Why not?" She shrugged, focusing on her hands in her lap. Was he trying to get rid of her? Find a polite excuse to get away? No, that wouldn't be like him at all. He would just get up and leave if he wanted to. Robin didn’t know what he wanted to hear. "Nobody's ever asked me to dance anyway."

"Oh please... You are by far better than waiting for some dunderhead to ask you for a dance. Go and ask someone first, someone who deserves your company." His tone turned from neutral to grave in a broken second, as he turned to look away along with it. "Or at least someone who knows that they never will."

There was something ineffably sad about his words, his voice, his eyes when she looked up at him once more. He wasn't trying to get rid of her… He was giving her the chance to be happier elsewhere, without him. Robbin’s heart skipped a beat, then squeezed all air out of her lungs. If only he knew; if only she could make him understand. Then again… Perhaps she could.

"You know what? I will." Robin replied determinedly, and rose to her feet with one graceful move. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed out her dress with shaking hands, standing straight after sitting for so long, and then finally turned back around to Snape. Gods, he looked so sad under all those facades. She took another deep breath, then held out her hand to him. "Would you do me the honor and dance with me?"

______________________________

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idkwhoiamanymorebutwtf · 4 years ago

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I really don't think Luz should go back to the human world at the end of the summer. I honestly think that living on the Boiling Isles full time would be a much better environment to foster Luz's potential and happiness. This is my belief for a few reasons.

1.) Luz's passions lie in witchcraft. From childhood her biggest dream has been to become a witch. Any other aspirations were born on account of Luz "settling" for something she viewed as more achievable. Since arriving on the Boiling Isles, Luz has worked tirelessly towards making this dream into a reality, expressing boundless passion and will to learn more on the subject. And Luz has a future in magic practically laid out before her. Luz is being personally mentored by the strongest witch on the Isles and goes to a renowned magic school. She has a clear potential and a desire to reach her full capabilities. Luz has a future in witchcraft and to throw that away for anything the human world has to offer would be a horrific waste of Luz's talents and passion as she cannot practice magic in the human realm. In my view, what's best for Luz's future would be to remain in the Isles, graduate from Hexside, and continue to learn under the watchful gaze of The Owl Lady. To ask that Luz go back to the human realm where her talents were wasted and her passion channeled into much less positive outlets? That would be a horrendous waste of potential in my eyes.

2.) Luz didn't fit in back home. At all. It's explicitly stated that Luz had no friends back home and it's implied that she was likely mocked by the kids around her. Luz was an outcast with no friends her own age. On the Boiling Isles Luz's social life has thrived. Willow, Gus, and Amity are her only real friends (that aren't drawn or reptilian, that is!). There are still mean girls in Hexside, but Luz is far from a social outcast. She has three incredible friends and even more acquaintances who seem to like her. Luz is still weird, but weird is on brand for the Boling Isles, and she seems to fit in much better here than in the human realm. Would it be right to ask her to leave her current social group to go back to a place where people don't like or understand her? Especially if (read: when) she decides to engage in a romantic relationship with miss Amity Blight. Would it be right to take the only friends and her first ever real romantic partner away from her?

3.) Luz overall has a better family life on the Isles than she does back home. I believe that Camilla Noceda loves her daughter. However I also believe that Camilla is not the ideal guardian. She's bound to be a very busy woman, first off. She has a demanding job that probably takes up a lot of her time, and while that isn't truly her fault, I imagine her daughter may not get enough attention with Camilla being the only person Luz typically had to hang out with. Camilla also doesn't really seen to understand Luz. She thinks that Luz's dreams and passions are holding her back and encouraged her daughter to stop reading fantasy books or making fan content. To be more "normal". And finally, Camilla doesn't know how to handle Luz's impulsivity or innatentive nature. I highly believe Luz struggles with a form of neurodivergency (ADHD or ASD I believe). Camilla truly isn't equipped to handle this or help her daughter cope, instead trying to 'fix' Luz, believing if she can convince Luz to act normal that it will make everything better. Eda, on the other hand, seems to have plenty of time for Luz and encourages her to express herself in healthy ways. Camilla sent Luz away to a camp that would most likely only serve to break Luz's trust in her mother and hurt her passion and enthusiasm. Eda has helped Luz channel her energy into constructive behaviors. Overall I believe that Luz would be better off with Eda as her primary caregiver.

I don't suggest Luz never visit the human realm or never see her mother again. It's clear that Luz loves Camila and will always want to be in her life, and as much as I believe Camila isn't the ideal guardian, she does seem to want her daughter to be happy. I do, however, suggest that Camila should not be Luz's primary guardian and that the human realm shouldn't be her primary place of residence. I see many people suggesting that Luz go home and visit the Boiling Isles on school holidays, however I personally believe that it will be in the child's best interest to reside primarily in the Boiling Isles under the care of Edalyn Clawthorne and attend Hexside with visitation to the human realm and to her mother when possible. Because really, Luz Noceda's life is on the Boiling Isles.

#the owl house #luz noceda

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miloqnzh925 · 4 years ago

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Vlogging has actually ended up being a super popular way for nomads to package up their experiences and share them with the world. On the audience side, they condense an entire mess of details down into a tight little package, in addition to providing a genuine and tangible sense of what a location might be like, assisting you judge whether it's worth a go to or not. But not all vloggers are produced equivalent. To help you arrange the wheat from the chaff, we have actually gathered a list of the 16 finest and most prominent travel vloggers that you need to be following in 2021, particularly if this is the year that you're going to explore the land down under!Max & Lee are an Australian/ Canadian couple and along with their charming Australian Shepherd pet dog Occy, they have excellent enjoyable tape-recording their vlog travel adventures for their substantial 1.

If you're a fan of Van Life, then this video blog is for you. You can get some amazing pointers to help you get your own adventure on the road. It might seem a little arrogant to call yourself The Professional Vagabond, but this is a title that Matthew Karsten has well and really earned - travel documentary. He's been on the road for over eight years, and is showing no sign of slowing down, despite the fact that he's now a daddy. He's acquired over 50,000 subscribers on You, Tube, over 150,000 followers on Instagram, and runs an effective and popular blog site.

You'll observe an unique lack of Australia on that list, however he can't be too far off right Matt?A You, Tube veteran of 13 years and counting, over the last few years Overlander TV has taken its vlog to the next level, with an expert electronic camera team catching spectacular, cinema-level video footage. A number of years ago Overlander created an 87 minute feature-length movie called Australian Motorbike Experience, which followed Mark Shea on an impressive two-wheeled tour along Australia's West Coast. With over 23 million channel views and screenings of Shea's film worldwide, Overlander is revealing a simple You, Tube channel can become so much more!Careening towards one million subscribers, Marko and Alex Ayling are acclaimed travel videographers that let their pictures do (most of) the talking.

Facts About Music Vlog Revealed

They've covered most of the world, consisting of Australia, so if you're searching for a bit of Oz travel inspo especially the spots that make for the very best shots head to their channel and sign up with the movement!Looking for inspiration that is a little more unique and adrenaline fuelled? Brave & Far is run by Mike Corey, who enjoys experiencing (and recording) action-packed hijinks around the world. Don't expect any run of the mill scenery shots here; Corey is only thinking about activities that disgust, entertain and/or excite, as his 300K+ You, Tube followers will attest. Kirsten and Siya are a funny, lovely, adventure-loving couple now with a baby in tow that appear to draw in followers for their characters as much as the destinations they showcase.

The set have generated almost 300,000 subscribers, and travelled to Australia in 2017, producing videos along the method (vlog). With over 700,000 You, Tube subscribers, British backpacker Ben Brown has made a profession out of feeding his travel addiction by developing an army of eager followers. Ben has travelled all over from the Arctic to Australia and Africa, shooting in an individual, POV style so that you seem like you're right there in amongst the action and when it comes to his most popular upload, in a vehicle crash!Hey, Nadine! This travel blogger is a water fountain of understanding when it pertains to travel ideas, techniques and hacks, offering up a genuine encyclopaedia of valuable content.

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crossxskulled · 4 years ago

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Mailing chocolates, it seemed, was too impersonal. The Japanese tradition was to give them in person, was it not? And as a surprise, at that. That left Sonia with only one option. She would have to give Ryuji the Valentine’s Day treats she’d arranged herself and with little explanation as to why she needed to meet him that day. Hopefully, he wouldn’t ask too many questions about why she wanted to meet in one of Shibuya’s parks, as opposed to the usual convenience stores and inexpensive restaurants they often visited. She didn’t think it was right to bring such gifts to a dining establishment and she certainly couldn’t visit his home. Thankfully, Haru had been a wonderful help correcting the Princess of Novoselic some of the cultural implications that, at home, would have been a non-issue.

“I hope this wasn’t too terribly inconvenient for you, and I’m not sure if you even like these really,” Sonia began, surprising herself by dancing around the point she was trying to make. At least she spoke clearly and smiled through it all. “But I hope you accept these Valentine’s Day chocolates. Happy Valentine’s Day, Ryuji-san!”

Inside the golden yellow box and coordinating bow, rows of pyramid-shaped dark chocolate candies and round milk chocolate truffles were neatly arranged. The dark chocolates were filled with dark chocolate ganache and liquid fondant to be tiny lava chocolates that would ooze upon biting past the outer shell. But the milk chocolates were filled with chocolate-hazelnut filling, far less messy, and rolled in crushed macadamia nuts. “I remember you telling me about your class trip to Hawaii, the one you seemed to quite enjoy with your friends! I’ve never been myself, but I thought a chocolate volcano and macadamia nuts might remind you of a wonderful time.”

___________________________

☠ - Time managed to bleed through his hands despite a shift of a holiday, hardly slowing, rather, keeping that same pace of trickling sands while he pushed through his training on this day. Motivation and a return to old form blew the blonde’s mind in ways he could’ve of perceived. So what better day to productively blow all that energy than at the gym? Through the help of his old coach and upperclassmen by the name of Ikeda, a regimen that remains rigorous, reward and perfect for warding off the rust across his body’s specifics was the goal for this Valentine’s day.

Gaining a small bounty of friendship chocolate had been a unforeseen boon that only made him double down. Seeing the smiling faces of those knuckleheads had been too much of a damn treat not to do anything less. (Taking Yusuke out to get a good meal as a miniature get-together had also fit into that equation.)

If only he could’ve known why Haru kept such a doting voice of knowing in her town. Ryuji simply brushed it off as a means of her being jovial in the atmosphere, enjoying the time no different than he had.

One text message however completely altered the route of his plans like a fork in the river. Business was business and his partners at the gym kindled a brand of training related friendship. So of course knowing the season, there he was being tacked on out with a number of teases, especially seeing how February serves as the season for some to shoot their shot, couples to get more couple-y, while some managed to romanticize facets of romance to make the world look a touch more sunshine and rainbows.

‘Too bad’ that with a huff and a laugh, he’d call them all some bastards after he freshened up, changed, and rolled out back to the busy streets. Like a bolt amidst a mass of sky,. he’s nimble and dedicated to his beeline, wading his way through the day filled with either saturated hopes or the jaded atmosphere as Inokashira Park remains the place to meet with a girl who’s pleasantly been in his thoughts. Just thinking of a touch of their previous ventures makes a chuckle rumble in his chest.

Oh yeah. There sure as hell was a good deal of memories they’ve made since their arrangement while having a blooming friendship.

“Yo, Sonia!” His cheerful voice would soon call as the scenery of an opened sky is replaced with the natural roofing of branches and trees. That had caught her attention, leading to them catching eyes and suddenly having her.. look a touch bashful? Or maybe that skittered in his imagination. Just being met with a soft nod while she balanced something in her hands was a little weird? Here he was much more adjusted to a upbeat prestige or the excitable questions to explore a world that cast refined inclination to the side.

”My bad it took me a lil longer than usual to hop on the scene here.” He begins, grunting in distaste at his tardiness. “The short notice caught me att middle up at the gymmmm-- ah ah, not that it’s a big deal or anything!” That definitely had to be set once she made mentions of inconvenience! Heading out for someone he cares for always had a priority even if there were routine plans for a day. ...And now that he’s getting a better look at this whole situation. Wasn’t that introduction of her’s a touch too kind while she swayed a bit in her spot? Once their eyes met with a gentle glare of sunlight remaining in between, the answer soon arrives, dressed up in an ornate box that makes his eyes pop open a deal wider while unceremoniously dropping that duffel bag of his to the ground.

Unexpected? Unexpected. Somehow that mind of his couldn’t translate the moment at hand while his eyes shoot open like saucers at the ornate box she presents between them both! Seeing that particular design as if she plucked this from the lap of luxury... That made the ticker within his chest speed on up, for real. ‘Wha wha wha.. Whoa! Hold on! Am I seein’ this right!? I.. She had plans of hauling some of these to me?! People usually just roll these out in the hand bags! But this.. I-’ Any other thoughts failed to meet the mark of coherency as he could only stop, stare, and just drink in the view of that familiar smile and the presented box set before him.

Soon a pair of mildly shaky hands would come to take it. No longer was it the aftermath of a good workout that supplied such heat, nor the hot shower taken before making his way on down here. The act in offering this gift itself had burned a fuzzy brand of energy through him while his fingers braced upon the box and drew it a touch closer. Naturally too curious for his own good, this led him to a world of intricate design, for chocolate of all the damn things! Being a more modest and moderate fan had left him ignorant to the designs outside of chocolate bars to bats and eyes on the Halloween days.

Seeing the spread while hearing the story began to tack so many of the pieces together. Antsy thoughts were quelled by the truth of her intentions, the inspiration as to why they’re designed this way and kindness shuffled into each and every one. Had she really been thinking that deeply over one of their past times while getting this fixed up?

So to see Sonia place that much care into him causes a soft sensation to well up as the dominate point of feeling. Settled upon his face was a genuine look of contentment swirled together with a touch of gratitude. “You.. Really went through a damn lot, huh? I mean.. Look at these! So frickin’ cool and designed like people draw with chocolate!” His enthusiasm instantly takes the charge while he glosses over them, taking a touch longer to notice how the play of positioning also added to that! This for sure got a ‘Yoooooooooooo!’ strained from his lips as his eyes instantly sparkled with joy.

”Almost doesn’t make me wanna eat ‘em.. Almost! Maybe I can keep a few for a touch longer and..” Noticing that his delight might’ve had him going on a small tangent made him a touch self-conscious, causing him to seize up while a soft laughter escapes from him. If it wasn’t clear from his expression alone within their momentary getaway of the park’s atmosphere, Ryuji here was really pleased with the gift. ..To the point that somehow the whole Valentine aspect hadn’t reigned as the highest mark of importance.

Spending some more time with her instinctively feels like the best bet in his eye. Taking good care in the way he closes the box, the dropped bag is quickly swiped up before he makes a charged point to one of the sites of scenery appreciating seating off to the side.

“In that case! You sure as hell unlocked a route to some more funny stories! C’mon- how about we try some of these together while we kick back for a while?”

....

“Oh and uh.” This much would be said as they pressed off to the selected spot. “Happy Valentines Day to ya too, Sonia. Thanks for this..”

Today would be another one filled with fun promise.

#more-than-a-princess #submission #| Keepsakes #D'AW THIS WAS SWEET #And much thanks for the send in!

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bootyshakerkegrimm · 5 years ago

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Joining the Lost Light

After months of checking facts in mtmte and on Whirl, then getting busy with the holidays, and having @sybergeist review and help fix a few things, my little x reader fic about a human joining the crew of the Lost Light is finished and ready. I'm honestly not very confident in my writing, so if this gets enough likes and reblogs I might do more.

Now, this is highly based off my self insert joining the Lost Light, so there are mainly female pronouns used in this. I can always go back and make versions for male and nonbinary readers.

It does take me a while to write things, so I apologize in advance for very inaccurate uploads of my writing and self insert stuff.

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This was not what you had been expecting when you agreed to go on a camping trip with some friends from work. You didn't expect them to all suddenly have different reasons to cancel on you. You didn't expect to have automotive trouble—and you most certainly didn't expect to be abducted by fifteen-foot tall alien bugs . It didn’t help that they used some kind of gas to knock you out on their way to an alien planet so you wouldn't try to get away at that time. You still aren't sure how your escape happened, but you are now on the run from them.

You ducked into an ally next to some kind of giant store, clutching your large bag filled with your stuff you brought with you for camping. All you know is that if those alien bugs find you, you'll be sold as some kind of pet, and you didn't want to find out which kind of pet they meant.

You heard two "people" exit the giant store and tried to take a quick peek at what they were when you fell with a loud thud. The noise must have drawn their attention because soon you had two shadows on you. One loomed over you while the other seemed much smaller than the other. "Is that someone's holoform? It doesn't look familiar," said the large, mostly blue robot. You were nervous since you had no idea if these robots were with the bugs or not, but your curiosity won out.

"Um… What's a holoform?" you asked, hoping you didn't sound dumb.

"I think this is a real human, Skids!" said the small, black and white robot. You noticed it kind of looked like he had a camera on its head.

"I am a real human," you said without thinking.

"How did you get all the way out here?" asked the blue bot, apparently named ‘Skids’.

"Long story short,” you began, “I got abducted by some big alien bugs that wanted to sell me as some kind of pet."

"I guess this counts as one of those dark underbellies you were telling me about, Rewind."

As he spoke alongside Rewind’s nodding, three more robots came out of the store and over to you and these two bots. You had thought Skids was tall, but seeing the huge purple bot with one horn, you were promptly corrected on that thought.

"Skids, Rewind, What do you have there?" asked an orange bot that looked like he was wearing glasses.

Skids moved out of the way so the other three could see you, "it's a real human, Rung," he replied.

"Oh my!" Rung didn't have time to ask anything more before one of those alien bugs, who abducted you, had found you. You quickly grabbed onto Skids' leg and hid behind him. "That's one of the bugs that abducted me!" you told him in a hushed tone.

It walked up to the bots, but its eyes were on you.

"There you are! You had us worried! Running off like that to play games with us. Thanks so much for finding her!" it said, laying on the lie thick.

"The way she's acting doesn't really suggest she's comfortable with you," Rung replied.

"And she told us that she was abducted and was going to be sold as a pet." Skids added, seemingly watching the bug closely. You wondered briefly if he knew how to read body language.

"Oh, she's such an imaginative one. We're trying to get her home, back to her planet," it lied to them with ease and confidence. You suddenly realized that this bug has done this before and now you worried if these bots would hand you over without a fight.

Skids must have sensed your discomfort. "You're lying."

"What?! I would never!" it started, but was cut off by Skids explaining how he knew it was lying.

"Fine. How much do you want for her? Human pets are pretty popular though, so no less than a 100 shanix as a starting price."

"We will do no such thing! There is no way that this is legal to do." Rung said, seeing that the bug was trying to sell you to them, or at the very least trying to buy you from them. Before things could escalate, the bug was sent flying by a new bot that showed up. This one had, what you could only describe as ‘chicken legs’, one big eye in the middle of his face, and claws for hands.

"Did you see how far that guy went?! Bet he won't be getting up anytime soon! Ha!" the new bot said before turning to you, "So... who's holoform looks like that?"

"Not a holoform. She's a real human." Rewind said. You came out from behind Skids, into full view of this new bot. "I wasn't there when this happened, but I remember that the Wreckers had a human help out with a mission. She was a tough little thing. Wonder if this one is like her?"

"We'd like for her to stay in one piece, Whirl." Skids said, seeming to indicate that Whirl might not be the best bot to be alone with.

"I know you have no reason to trust us, but you are welcome to come with us so something like that doesn't happen again." Rung suggested, holding out his hand to you.

You thought for a moment. All of them, except Whirl, seemed like they wouldn't do anything bad to you and were friendly enough. Even with the purple bot looking grumpy.

"Okay. But only if I can leave this planet with you guys." You went over to Rung and he lifted you up onto his shoulder with a smile.

"Of course!"

The seven of you soon came to a pub of some kind. You had learned that the purple bot was named Cyclonus and the blue and white bot was named Tailgate. You also told them your name was (y/n). They had told you they were meeting back up with two other crewmates, named Swerve, and Ultra Magnus. Rung quickly explained to both of them the situation you were in. The larger bot, who you assumed was Ultra Magnus, seemed like he was having issues holding his drink. You weren't really sure what could make robots drunk. Swerve seemed like he was ecstatic to meet a real human. You all talked and you were actually having fun with them. Things got rocky though, when Cyclonus just laid Whirl out for no reason, while Rewind was showing a video of an old spaceship called the Ark 1. When it came time to leave, they ran into an issue. It seemed like Ultra Magnus was too heavy and awkward to carry all the way back to the ship with them as they are. They made plans to come back and get him with these holoform things they were talking about before.

You agreed to go back with their real bodies, but stayed with their bodies since you didn't know anyone else on the ship. When they got back, it wasn't long before Cyclonus and Tailgate showed up, too. The ship took off and now you were faced with a new problem; having to face the captain of this ship. You were so nervous as you waited for him to show up. You had no clue if he'd be nice or throw you off the ship with no way to survive. After all you only had that big bag of your stuff, not a space suit. You had some food that would last you for a week, but you worried about the possibility of them not letting you stay, and surviving on your own.

Turns out the captain is a very relaxed bot. He explained a few days later that they couldn't get in touch with their home planet, Cybertron, so they couldn't send you to Earth. But you pointed out that all humans dream of either going to space or going on a quest, and right now you had the chance to do both. You wanted to stay and help any way you could. Rodimus liked your enthusiasm and spunk and allowed you to stay as an official crew member.

And thus began your life on the Lost Light.

#maccadam #transformers #mtmte #more than meets the eye #transformers more than meets the eye #transformers mtmte

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writeyouin · 5 years ago

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For the Halloween requests, can I please have TFA Optimus experiencing a Halloween night with human s/o? Like they make his costume together and they have a nice Halloween party at the base with the team?

Optimus Prime (TFA) X Reader – Painting Faces

A/N – If Phillip Pullman can leave me on a cliff-hanger IRL with The Secret Commonwealth then I can leave you guys on one. That is the true power of Halloween, mwa ha ha.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

You clambered on top of Optimus’ chassis, glad he was cooperating by laying down. You had already painted over his usual red and blue colour with an orange undercoat which would come off in the wash racks after Halloween. Now, you sat painting a giant black bat which would eventually be accompanied by a jack-o-lantern and a trio of ghosts.

As you painted, you waited for Optimus’ usual questions about your odd human traditions, or even some of his regular enthusiasm for trying something new. Instead, his lips remained firmly pressed together, revealing nothing of his thoughts. It didn’t take a mind reader to guess what was bothering him. You could tell he was uncomfortable by the ridged way he held himself, the way his servos were clenched at his side, and most of all his silence; if you didn’t know any better, you would guess he was a statue.

Naturally, you didn’t blame him for being so out of character. He had been the same way last Halloween; apparently the holiday reminded him of Elita-1 and her transformation into Blackarachnia.

You paused, the tip of the brush a few inches from him. “I can stop if you want me to,” You said solemnly.

Optimus snapped up, accidentally throwing you from his chassis into his lap. You stood up bemusedly, removing the brush from your arm which had been subsequently painted black.

Optimus cringed, “Sorry (Y/N). I can lay back down if you need me to.”

You shook your head, jumping to the floor where you put the brush into a bucket of water, cleaning it of its temporary colour. “You don’t have to do this Optimus. Me and the others… We know this isn’t your favourite night.”

Optimus looked to his left, unable to face your astute gaze. You could so easily sense his discomfort; he wondered what else you could sense in him. Was it possible you also knew how much he loved you, but weren’t letting on? He wouldn’t be surprised if you did, but he prayed that you didn’t.

“Why are we doing this?” He asked, secretly referring to the way the two of you constantly danced around a relationship that couldn’t happen.

If you caught on to his subliminal message you didn’t say so, instead opting to explain the Halloween party. “Sari’s father is missing, she’s lost just about everything normal in her life, and she’s being raised by five Cybertronians and me. She deserves to at least have the enjoyment of a proper Halloween; every kid should get that. All the same…” You paused in thought, “You shouldn’t do this if it’s too much for you.”

Optimus blushed and felt his cooling fans start up at your consideration. He coughed to cover the sound and tried to shut them off in case you figured out what the sound meant. It wasn’t fair; how could he be expected to stay calm when you were always putting him before yourself?

“I uh-” Optimus cleared his vocaliser, then lay back down. “We should finish this before the others get back. The paint will need time to dry.”

Although you would rather see Optimus safe from the nightmares of his processor, you didn’t argue and instead retrieved your paintbrush to finish Optimus’ costume. Once again Optimus fell silent and stiff, though this time it was your proximity to blame instead of his guilt and insecurity.

“Okay,” Sari said amusedly. “One more time. You throw your arms above your head, make claws, then go left and then right. Got it, Bulkhead?”

Bulkhead looked at his servos, sure the three digits that formed them already counted as claws, “Uh… I think so.”

Bumblebee threw up his arms impatiently, “UGH, WHAT IS SO HARD FOR YOU? It’s just dancing.”

Bulkhead cringed, “Hey! You know this stuff isn’t easy for me.”

While the pair squabbled, Prowl knelt down to your level, “(Y/N), are you sure this dance is absolutely necessary? Sari tells me it is a cultural dance and an honour for an outsider to be invited to participate.”

“The Thriller?” You asked, barely withholding a snicker. “Yeah, it’s a… It’s kind of like those documentaries with the different tribes in Africa; a very important dance here.”

“I see. There is still one thing I don’t understand however. If this dance holds so much importance to your people, how come we did not partake last year?”

“Ah,” You nodded sagely, buying time to come up with a plausible lie. “Well, Sari showed you another tradition, trick or treating, then you were attacked. After all that excitement, we didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Prowl’s optics widened in understanding, “Of course, that makes sense.”

“Okay!” Sari exclaimed. “Are we ready to try again?”

Each of the bots took their respective place, except for Ratchet who watched disdainfully from across the room, thinking about the antics of younger bots; the closest Ratchet got to joining in was to restart the song whenever Sari indicated he should.

With Bulkhead and Bumblebee on either side of Sari, you and Prowl in front of the trio, and Optimus in the back, Ratchet restarted the song. Throughout the dance you laughed joyously, showing the moves to Prowl who learned quickly and efficiently. Optimus’ optics never left your small form, completely enchanted with the way you moved, even though it wasn’t particularly graceful; he hated any second when his view was blocked by either Bumblebee or Bulkhead.

Ratchet watched Optimus disapprovingly. To him, Optimus should have been trying harder to hide his feelings for you. It was lucky Optimus was at the back of the group where nobody else could see that he wasn’t dancing. Heaving a heavy sigh, Ratchet opted to wait for a moment when he could get Optimus alone to have a serious discussion with him. Such a time came when Sari was explaining the concept of apple bobbing or in the bots’ case, bobbing for a rounded metal that wasn’t even remotely edible to them.

You watched fondly, waiting for the moment Sari would go and her Bumblebee face-paint would float on the water’s surface, having been stripped from her face. Sari stepped up to the wooden tub, ready for her turn, and you grinned.

“Watch this Optimus-” You stopped upon realising that the now orange and black bot was nowhere to be found. You glanced around, spotting him and Ratchet heading outside of the base. Despite feeling that it was wrong to follow the pair, you couldn’t help being worried that whatever they were about to discuss might concern Sari or perhaps Optimus’ phobia of Halloween; with that in mind, you followed the pair.

While you intended to confront the pair, who had gone around the side of the building, you stopped yourself upon hearing Ratchet speak your name. Pressing yourself against the corner of the building, you listened.

“You can’t keep doing this Prime,” Ratchet lectured. “(Y/N) is a human, it can’t work. It will only end in spark-ache for both of you.”

“I know,” Optimus said resignedly. “But what am I supposed to do? (S)he’s everywhere Ratchet, and even when (s)he’s not, I’m still thinking of-” He sighed loudly, “Ratchet, I think… Whenever I think about (Y/N)- I- I think I’m in love.”

You covered your mouth before any sound could escape, as you sagged against the wall, glad for the darkness that hid you from view. While you had always had your suspicions that Optimus might care for you romantically, you had always brushed them off as cruel tricks your mind played when you longed for something more with him.

Ratchet grabbed Optimus’ shoulder plate roughly, “Now you listen to me! You better think about what’s best for (Y/N) over what you want. You hear me? Forget any ideas of love and let (Y/N) live the life (s)he was meant to lead, with other humans.”

Not wanting to hear whether Optimus would fight for you or not, you decided to make yourself known. Straightening up, you plastered a smile on your face and rounded the corner, trying to sound casual when you said, “Here you two are! I was looking all over for you.”

“(Y/N)!” Optimus blurted, afraid you had heard his confession.

You pretended not to notice how startled the pair were, though you could feel the way Ratchet’s optics intensely followed your movements. “Sari asked if you two were going to take a turn metal bobbing, so I came looking for you. What are you even doing out here?”

Ratchet shot a warning glance at Optimus, though he needn’t have; the younger bot was practically sagging under the weight of his unheard declaration of love.

“Nothing much,” Ratchet shrugged. “I was just looking at the night sky, thinking of home. Optimus came to join me. I didn’t think these young bots cared anymore.”

You looked up at the stars as if contemplating the explanation, “Yeah… I can see why they would make you homesick. Well, don’t let me interrupt, come in whenever you’re ready. I’ll find something to entertain Sari and buy you both some time.”

Optimus and Ratchet could barely hide their relief as you left. While they thought about how lucky they had been, you were thinking about what you would say to Optimus the next time you were alone with him. You knew you had to confront the elephant in the room, but the question was, how?

‘Sari first, then Optimus,’ You reminded yourself. ‘Tonight is for her, not me.’

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#tfa #maccadam #transformers animated #transformers #optimus prime #optimus prime x reader #halloween #ratchet #prowl #bumblebee #bulkhead #reader #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #painting faces #littlemissfictionof1999

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athena-athena · 5 years ago

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Snowed In - Steve Rogers x Reader

Request from @celticheart72: “Had a one-night stand and now you’re snowed in” with Steve Rogers.

Thanks for requesting this one, @celticheart72! ❤❤ To be honest, I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle this at first, but once I started writing, I really got into it. haha It ended up a lot longer than originally planned (~2300 words!), but I hope you like it!

(Let’s hope the third time’s the charm because Tumblr has been a pain tonight and has eaten my first two posts, as well as the original ask for this prompt.)

Warnings: Implied sex. One-night stand.

Tagged List: @bigbandbombshell @trashpandaorigins (I’m not going to use my normal tagged list for these, so if you’d like to be added to my temporary tagged list for this holiday bingo, just let me know!)

You walked into the cabin you were sharing with Marta, your co-worker in one of the labs at Stark Industries, as well as your best friend, and looked around in awe.

“This place is amazing!”

“Did you think Tony Stark would rent a place that wasn’t amazing?”

“I still can’t believe he rented the entire ski lodge for his employees. Most people just give gift cards.”

“I can’t believe he didn’t just buy the entire ski lodge.”

You laughed and dropped your suitcase and garment bag on the bed, then walked to the window and rested your hands on the windowsill as you gazed out at the scene. “This view is beautiful. And look! It’s starting to snow!”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t snow too much to make us miss the holiday party tonight! What do you think of this dress?”

You turned from the window to look at the dress Marta was holding up for your inspection. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thanks! It cost almost my entire paycheck this week. What did you bring to wear tonight?”

You unzipped your garment bag and held up your dress, which was floor-length and ivory, spangled with silver and gold stars. “I didn’t pay nearly as much as you did. There are such things as clearance sales, you know?”

“Oh my god, that’s gorgeous! You’re going to turn more than a few heads tonight.”

“I highly doubt that.” You laughed again and hung your dress up, stopping to admire the way it sparkled in the light before you returned to your suitcase and finished unpacking. “It’s not too over the top, is it?”

“No way! It’s perfect, don’t worry.”

You walked into the lobby of the hotel with Marta later than evening, still feeling self-conscious about your dress.

“Will you stop messing with your dress? You look amazing, so stop worrying about it.”

“I’m just not used to wearing stuff like this.” It was cut a little deeper in the front than anything else you’d ever worn, and you reached your hand up to cover the front of it again.

Marta grabbed your hand and held it tightly to her side. “Stop! It’s not that revealing and you’re just drawing more attention to it by keeping your hands up there. Besides, with all the Avengers here tonight, I’m sure most people will be too busy staring at them to worry about how low your dress is cut.”

“You’re right.” You squeezed Marta’s hand and the two of you walked into the ballroom together.

“Promise me you’ll have a good time tonight.”

“I promise, Marta, I’ll try to have a good time.”

“Don’t just stand next to the wall all night! That dress does not deserve to be hidden in the shadows. And how many opportunities will you have to hang out with the Avengers?”

“Well, we do work for Stark Industries, it’s not impossible to think we may bump into them again.”

“Yeah, but this is the perfect opportunity to really get to talk to them! I wonder where Thor is. Do you see him?” She stood on the tips of her toes as she tried to spot him among the crowd.

You smiled at your friend’s eagerness. “I’m sure you’ll find him soon.”

The two of you mingled for a while, bumping into Tony and Pepper briefly. Pepper gushed about your dress while Marta pressed Tony for information about Thor’s whereabouts.

You managed to pull Marta away eventually, and, as you dragged her over to the edge of the room, said in a teasing tone, “You could be a little more subtle about your crush on Thor, you know?”

“Why? I don’t care if he knows.”

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s go get drinks.”

The two of you maneuvered through the crowd, which was made a little trickier by your floor-length dress. You glanced down to make sure you’d lifted it enough to keep from tripping on the hem when someone suddenly bumped into you.

A hand grabbed your arm, firmly but gently, and a voice next to your ear said, “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m -” You stopped talking, momentarily stunned, as you looked into the blue eyes of Steve Rogers. You shook your head slightly. “Sorry, yeah, I’m fine.”

He let go of your arm, but stayed close to you. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” You were fine, except for your burning cheeks and the embarrassment you could feel rolling off of you in waves.

“Well, I’m sorry for bumping into you. I should have been watching where I was going.”

“It’s fine! It’s not your fault.”

“Can I at least get you a drink to make up for it?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that! It’s okay, I promise.”

He smiled. “I’d feel better about it if I could get that drink for you.”

You returned his smile. “Okay, thanks.”

You noticed Marta a little way ahead of you as she turned around to look for you in the crowd. She gave you a thumbs up when she saw you with Steve.

You blushed again and steered Steve to a bar set up on the other side of the room from Marta, who you knew would be only too happy to embarrass you with her enthusiasm.

When you reached the bar, Steve asked what you wanted to drink. You told him and took the opportunity to admire his profile. You’d seen him on TV before but you’d never been this close and you were a bit awed by how handsome he was.

“Here you go.”

He handed your drink to you, effectively shaking you out of your thoughts. You blushed again and hoped that his super-soldier abilities didn’t include mind-reading.

He led you through the crowd again, cupping your elbow lightly with one hand. He nodded to Natasha as the two of you passed her, and though she raised her brows at him, she didn’t stop walking. He found a small table in the corner of the ballroom that wasn’t as crowded as the rest of the room, and the two of you sat down with your drinks.

You were nervous at first, but he quickly put you at ease with his calm presence and interesting conversation. He asked about your job in the Stark Labs and listened attentively as you told him about one of your new projects.

You weren’t aware of just how much time had passed until Steve asked if he could walk you back to your cabin.

Before you knew what you were saying, the words, “I thought I might just go to your cabin instead” slipped out, tinged with a slightly flirty tone. Your face flushed red and you immediately regretted the drinks you’d had. “I am so sorry, I can’t believe I said that!”

Far from looking appalled, Steve was smiling. “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

You returned his smile, though your face was still red, and said, “Well, what are we waiting for?”

When you awoke, it took a couple of seconds for you to remember where you were. When you glanced over and noticed the man asleep next to you, his bare shoulders gleaming in the moonlight, the events of the previous night rushed back to you. You were thankful your companion was still asleep so he wouldn’t see the red staining your cheeks.

You hoped it was still early enough that you would be able to make it back to your cabin before anyone noticed you’d spent the night with Steve. You stood up, pulled one of the blankets off the bed, and wrapped it around you, then went searching for your purse. You found it and slipped your phone out. Luckily, it had enough charge left for you to see the time – 2:45 A.M. - but on the other hand, you could also see the numerous texts and missed calls from Marta wondering where you were.

You groaned quietly and sent a quick text letting her know you were okay and would be back to the cabin soon. Your phone buzzed almost as soon as you’d slipped it back in your bag, and you pulled it back out to see that Marta was calling.

You walked into the living room and quietly closed the bedroom door behind you, then answered Marta’s call.

“Hello?”

“Where are you? I’ve been worried sick!”

“I’m sorry! I left the party with Steve and then I fell asleep and -”

“Steve? Steve Rogers?”

“Yeah.”

“You slept with Captain America?”

“I didn’t say I slept with -”

“Oh, come on! You didn’t have to say it.”

“Okay, fine.”

“So, how was it?”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe some other time. I’ve got to get back to our cabin before anyone notices where I’ve been. I don’t want to ruin Captain America’s reputation or something.”

“First of all, I don’t think you have to worry about that. Secondly, have you looked outside lately? Actually, don’t bother answering that. I know you’ve been too busy to take time to look outside.”

“Why would I look outside?” You asked as you made your way to a window, still holding the blanket up with one hand while you held the phone to your ear with the other.

“Because you, my dear, are snowed in with Captain America.”

“What?” Sure enough, when you pulled the curtain aside, you could tell you wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while.

“Oh, no!”

You heard the door behind you open and Steve asked, “What’s wrong?”

You whirled around, cheeks bright red, as you tried to hitch the blanket up a little higher. “I’m sorry I woke you up!” You suddenly remembered Marta, then murmured into the phone, “Gotta go, I’ll call you later.”

“It’s fine.” He waved away your concern. “Why did you say ‘oh no’? Has something happened?”

“Oh, well, kinda. We’re just, um, snowed in.”

He crossed the room and stood beside you as he looked out the window. “Wow, it’s really coming down out there! Must be at least 3 feet already.”

“I’m sorry if this has made things awkward...” you trailed off as he turned from the window to look at you.

“Why would it make things awkward?”

“I just… you know, the whole world knows Captain America, and I didn’t want you to be embarrassed if it got out that you were with, um, me, because I’m not… you know...”

“You’re not what? Not good enough for me?”

You tried smiling, but you were afraid it looked more like a grimace. “Yeah.”

“That’s not true.”

His stern voice made butterflies erupt in your stomach even though you knew it shouldn’t have, and you willed your cheeks to return to a normal color.

“I just thought...”

His voice softened slightly. “You just thought that since I’m an Avenger I’d only want to be with someone who had the title superhero?”

“Yeah,” you answered quietly, looking down at the blanket you were still keeping wrapped around you, embarrassed at this unexpected turn in the conversation.

“Well, I promise I don’t want to date any of the other Avengers.”

You looked up to see him smiling, and you returned it, glad that he didn’t seem angry about being snowed in with you. “Okay.”

“And, listen, I don’t mind if people know you’ve been here all night. I’m a grown man, I don’t care what people say about me, but if you’d rather keep it quiet, I can call Tony and see if he can get this snow moved so we can get you back to your cabin relatively quietly before everyone wakes up.”

“No, you don’t have to do that. I doubt he’d be happy about getting woken up at three in the morning just to shovel snow.”

Steve laughed. “He’d get over it. It’d probably teach him not to rent an entire ski lodge for his next holiday party.”

“I doubt shoveling a little snow would keep Tony Stark from planning another elaborate party.”

Steve laughed again. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

You shivered slightly, and Steve immediately took a step closer to you, though he stopped before he got too close. “Sorry, you must be freezing. Why don’t you go back to bed and I’ll sleep out here on the couch?”

You blushed again. “Don’t be silly! I mean, you know, we’ve already… already been in bed together, so why bother sleeping on the couch now?”

“Are you sure?”

You smiled. “Positive.”

His own smile widened. “Okay.”

The next morning, Steve handed you a pair of gray sweatpants and a sweatshirt he’d pulled out of his suitcase. “I brought them to work out in, but I haven’t had a chance yet, so I promise they’re clean.”

You smiled and said, “They’re perfect, thanks.”

He left the room as you dressed, and you quickly pulled on the clothes he’d let you borrow. They were a little too big, but were still comfortable. You brushed your teeth and hair, then joined Steve in the living room, where he’d lit a fire in the fireplace and set two cups of coffee on the table in front of the couch.

“I wasn’t sure how you take your coffee, so you can add whatever you like,” he told you, motioning to the tray of coffee, which was filled with a variety of sugar, milk, and sweeteners.

“Thanks.” You sat next to him on the couch, pulled a blanket over your legs, and picked up one of the cups of coffee, relishing the warmth of it before picking up a packet of sugar to add to it.

After you finished fixing your coffee, you leaned back and pulled your feet up on the couch, then smiled at him. “Is it still snowing?”

“Yeah, it is. I checked the weather forecast and it’s supposed to keep snowing all day. I talked to Tony and he’s working with the ski lodge owners to get some snowplows up here.”

“I’m in no hurry to leave.”

He smiled at your words. “I know we said no strings at the party last night, but I was wondering if you’d like to go get dinner with me. After the snow clears up, of course.”

You smiled brightly. “I’d love that!”

His smile widened. “It’s a date, then.”

As the two of you spent the morning talking in front of the fireplace, you thanked your lucky stars for the snow that was still falling outside, and for the continued lack of snowplows.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #the avengers #steve rogers fanfiction #captain american fanfiction #the avengers fanfiction

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independentartistbuzz · 4 years ago

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Good News, Good Music 1.0

Here we are at the end of 2020. We don’t need to tell you that this has been a very hard year. We are feeling beaten down by the bad news and music is the one thing that lifted our spirits again and again and saw us through. We have partnered with our friends at Cyber PR Music to bring you a series of GOOD News from artists who carried on making music in spite of all of the insanity that was happening and continues to grip us. We have cried listening to some of the tracks, felt deeply inspired and yes we laughed as well. What we have seen is the Cyber PR artist community is rich and varied - there are artists from all across the USA included as well as Jamaica, Australia, South Africa, France, Sweden, The UK, Germany and Scotland.

So - we bring you part 1 of our 4 part series GOOD NEWS, GOOD MUSIC.

Please Follow the Spotify Playlist below to hear all of these amazing tracks.

Thanks to all of the artists who shared their music AND their good news.

JVMIE & Lionel Cohen | “We Will Rise Again”

Started A Collaboration From A Quarantine Hotel Room and Got Nominated For A Major Award

We had a crazy year but some great things came out of it! I was forced to leave LA and head back to Australia until things ‘calmed down’ but started a remote collaboration with LA based film composer Lionel Cohen - we received a grant from HOTA (Home Of The Arts Gold Coast) to create an album and we were just nominated for a HMMA Hollywood Music In Media Award :) The whole process of collaborating and talking every day was what helped me keep my sanity throughout this crazy year!

Perle Vybz | “Electric Dancefloor”

Almost Lost Her Partner To COVID And Took The Leap Of Faith To Release Music

My debut single 'Electric Dancefloor' was released on Dec 8th, against the odds. A few months ago , my partner almost lost his life (to COVID). He was hooked up on a ventilator and had a really rough time. At the same time, I lost my main source of income and so, during the pandemic lockdown I had more time on my hands to focus on my music. So I'm glad that in spite of what was happening around me I was able to take that leap of faith and get my music out there.

Arielle Silver | “What Really Matters”

Became Music Connection's Hot 100 Live Unsigned Artists and Bands and Top Prospects 2020 lists in their year-end issue

As COVID shut everything down in April, I leaned into my commitment to authentic connection and inspiring creative expression with the creation of two weekly livestreams: Tomes & Tunes, a weekly show where I interview songwriters about books, and Arielle's Acoustic Happy Hour, both of which are going strong. In June, I released a new album, A THOUSAND TINY TORCHES, along with two official music videos (one shot entirely during quarantine), which have been featured in American Songwriter, Music Connection, and more.And in September, in the wake of closing studios, my sweetheart and I launched a new online yoga studio, Bhavana Flow Yoga, with online classes, workshops, and retail.

Alongside my own sorrow at the pandemic, I have been living a year of creative expansion, and was recently featured in Music Connection's year-end issue on both their Hot 100 Live Unsigned Artists and Bands and Top Prospects 2020 lists.

Hannah Judson | “Deep Sea Diver”

Launched The Backwards Record Release Concept And It Worked!

The 2020 lockdown was an exploration of new ways of doing and connecting. Everything became an experiment as new processes were developed to replace the no longer actionable old ones. I launched the Backwards Record Release for "Stingray," a rock/folk collection of songs. The 8 week campaign started with a socially distanced concert in a chateau courtyard, was fueled by my new podcast the Hannah Judson Beat, conversations with women in music, and concluded with a capstone edition of MUSEfest Online, a music festival I normally produce in major cities that promotes women in music, film, art and culture. I stayed connected with colleagues and fans, envisioned future projects, and maintained momentum and enthusiasm for creative projects, present and future.

Evan Mazunik | “Comfort and Joy”

Funded, Recorded & Released A New Holiday Album

I’m grateful that I was able to successfully fund, record, release, and sell my new holiday album this year.

Eli Lev | “Anywhere We Can Go”

Released A Touching Global Fan Driven Music Video

youtube

I had a powerful experience this year when my music community from all across the world helped me create the music video for 'Anywhere We Can Go.' I was in happy tears editing it and seeing all these wonderful faces come together and make something truly special. Here it is and I hope it brings some joy to folks.

Jeff Oster | “Five Great Mountains”

Found Solace (And Music) In Mother Nature

youtube

I was lucky to spend three months in the fall of 2020 up in Vermont. In the midst of all of the turmoil, Mother Nature just kept on shining. I was able to create this video on my iPhone, in an attempt to capture her beauty.

Beca Dreams | “Calm Before the Storm”

Had A Creative Burst That Resulted In Ad Campaigns & New Singles

It’s been a very challenging year, and yet I’ve somehow managed to have some awesome wins I am super grateful for.

Partnered with Bounty to write/perform Quicker Picker Upper, currently streaming on all major platforms and has gotten over 7M views on Tik Tok and 150K streams on Spotify so far. Composed/performed song for an ad campaign for fashion designer Asher Levine on launching his new groundbreaking LED outerwear line (who’s recently worked with Doja Cat, Lil Nas, Lady Gaga). I also released 2 singles “Calm Before The Storm” and “Taking Time For Myself” and most recently was featured on “Dance Party In The Living Room” by UK producer Fritz von Runte, about making the most of the quarantine.

I feel so lucky to be making music and doing what I love, which has been a huge silver lining during these dark times.

AfriCali | “The Struggle”

Turned An Eviction Into A Special Retreat & Healing Place

Our landlord lost her pilates practice and couldn’t afford her Oakland home so

Our family of four with a baby due any month now had to figure it out and find the humanity in moving out before the lease was up. In the magic of mother earth and without knowing we were blessed with a beautiful place to be away and seven thousand feet above the mountains where we could have this beautiful bundle of joy. Which would turn into a special retreat healing place after our departure this past October.

Akira AK | “Pearl”

Completed His New Release Remotely Over Zoom

My "good news, good music" story is simply how I was able to release 2 major projects this year despite everything that is going on: putting out my second EP and my first music video. The EP in particular had been in the works for 3 years and was SO CLOSE to being done when everything started to shut down, so with the work of my engineer, we set up remote sessions via zoom that helped put the last song over the line and get the release out there! From there I was able to promote it with it's adjacent merch.

As far as my first music video is concerned; I was able to safely show up in person in NYC and film it with the help of a great videographer. The conceptualizing of the video is very special and I think speaks to the experiences some of us have had about going to that special place inside your head where you feel most powerful/comfortable/fierce to deal with whatever is going on externally. The promo for the video was also a success in terms of being able to schedule it on time and put it out there to hype the video itself. And once it was out it was really (unexpectedly) well received!

Those are just my personal success stories and I'm excited to see others' as well!

Monsterboy | “Ain’t Worth the Dime”

Played 60 Livestreams That Reached 7,000 Households

When my husband and I found ourselves without gigs and our small business closed, we decided to go live with our music and stay in touch with our fans. We cobbled together equipment from our home studio and gigging rig, going live in that first week. We really didn't know what to expect. The messages we got from people were so heartwarming, we built a little community for them night after night, reconnecting with existing fans and finding new. In total, we did over 60 live streams during the shutdown and reached over 7k households on some streams. Entertaining and interacting with people was our way to do our part for our community. A podcast found us via the streams and started hiring us to produce music for their shows from it.

Artist: Crotona P., Producer: Pablo Brownbeats | “Silk”

Forged An International Collaboration South Africa and the USA via A Chance Facebook Meeting

I'm Pablo Brownbeats, a producer who has been producing since my youth and creating music for the last 12 years. I just released my new Ep with Crotona P from Rochester New York featuring Street Da Villain, Dj Shawn Touch, KING Flamez all from Rochester New York and SOLO MAJITA from Free State South Africa. The African Ep is available on digital stores and Bandcamp. I enjoyed making this project and it will be an honor to share the leading single Titled Silk.

This project was recorded during the early days of Covid19. Me and Crotona met over Facebook and exchanged some few words and he agreed to do the single (silk) then African EP was born.

Scott Whitfield | “A Bi-Coastal Christmas, Vol. 1, by Scott Whitfield & Friends”

Released A Christmas Album That Features Artists Who Have Passed That Started Recording in 2004.

Despite the challenges, I was able to release a Christmas album on Bandcamp! It's available as a digital download OR a physical CD. This is the culmination of MANY years of work (some tracks date back to 2004, and, sadly, a few of the artists who played on them are no longer with us).

John Maksym | “Drinkin’ & Thinkin’”

Worked With 22 Collaborators Spanning 7 Countries and 16 Cities

I kicked off this year as a solo recording artist for the first time in my life and had an ambitious goal of releasing music every 5 weeks. When the pandemic struck, I had just started recording my 4th single in the studio and everything got shut down. Within a couple of weeks I was able to pivot and invest money into building my own little home studio, to continue to create. With every musician in the world stuck at home, I was able to connect with a dream team of collaborators who helped me finish the song that I had started and go on to record 8 more songs through remote session recording from their own home studios. All in all I worked with 22 collaborators, spanning 7 countries and 16 cities, which I would never have thought of doing had the world not been in lockdown. It also allowed me time to revise my original release plan and build a more robust plan to release a number of singles and eventually an album throughout 2021.

Stay tuned ...There’s more Good News Coming!

#2020 #2021 #independent artist buzz #indie music #music blog #spotify #spotify playlist #positive vibes #good vibes #cyberpr #cyberprmusic

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the-girl-from-number-4-blog · 6 years ago

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I Read the News Today, Oh Boy

Roger Taylor x Reader

On the subject of artifice

Word Count: 7k! (concise? what does that mean?)

(i feel so so so bad that it’s taken me so long to post. also this was a request from @fairlysuitehearts a long long time ago, which makes me feel even worse for putting off - i wanted to get the story down! and it’s probably still shit, but i hope you like it anyway)

“THIS JUST IN: Y/N AND ROGER TAYLOR SHARING NOT-SO-SECRET GLANCES AT ALBUM RELEASE PARTY: PUBLIC DECLARATION SOON?

Y/N L/N and Roger Taylor were seen together at the celebration of the release of rock band Queen’s fifth album, A Day at the Races.

The couple arrived together and were reportedly seen holding hands as they left the vehicle. Sources say they remained close throughout the night, and.....”

As you read the latest article in the gossip column, you grumbled lowly to yourself, shaking your head. The nerve of these journalists was preposterous and, quite frankly, impressive. You could never bear to be so invasive of another’s privacy, and even if you could, you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to display such little shame.

“What’s the matter?” Roger Taylor himself, the man who (rumor has it!) you’ve been dating for about a year (when will they reveal their obvious relationship?), asked you as he entered the recording studio.

You sighed, tossing the magazine onto the coffee table. “They keep publishing this shit, but they’re just pulling it out of their arses for how much truth there is.”

He approached you, peering over your shoulder to look at the discarded tabloid. “So I see we were quite intimate at the party last week,” he chuckled. “I feel like that’s something you should have told me, Y/N. Why’d I have to find out this way?”

You backed into him purposefully, knocking him just enough off balance to allow you to spin around and face him. “Roger, seriously, this is ridiculous. How can you take this as a joke?”

You and Roger were not in any relationship. You were the band’s assistant and very close friend, but never anything more. You expected, when you took a job with one of the most promising figures in the music industry, that there would be a certain degree of unwanted publicity - but never to this degree, with such little veracity.

“Nobody believes this stuff, you know,” he dismissed. “Can’t see why you let it get to you.”

You let out a frustrated huff. “You don’t get it. I’m getting calls every night from my family, just begging for details about our relationship - which, might I add, I simply cannot seem to convince them is entirely fabricated! You can’t tell me nobody believes it.”

“It’ll die down eventually,” he waved his hand. “Won’t be too long.”

He obviously didn’t understand how this was affecting you. It wasn’t the same with him; so what if people think he’s got a girlfriend? It gives him more publicity, and the groupies at his concerts certainly didn’t care that he already has a girl waiting (which he didn’t, but who were they to know that?)

You, on the other hand, were blacklisted from any other major music production company. After the entire debacle started, you’d looked into getting a job somewhere else (secretly, of course, as you were sure the boys would protest), just so the rumors would stop - but you were now known throughout the industry as the girl who shagged Roger Taylor to keep a position.

You eyed Roger carefully. He really didn’t know how this impacted your career. He didn’t know to what extent this grounded you to Queen (not that you wanted to leave, per se, but it was always nice to have options), or how much of a bother it was that your mother wouldn’t talk to you anymore, since you’ve been “lying” about your love life for a year.

You knew that something needed to change; you just didn’t know what.

It was a chilly January morning, when the sun was hidden behind the heavy London clouds. The coffee holder in your arms warmed your hands a bit, but it was still too cold to be comfortable.

Roger walked beside you, holding the second half of the order. It was Roger’s turn to get coffee for the rest of them at the studio, and since you usually didn’t go for caffeine but felt particularly drowsy that morning, you decided to tag along. He didn’t look nearly as cold as you, which was maddening.

For all that it annoyed you to constantly be thrown into the limelight for your completely fictitious relationship with him, you quite enjoyed spending time with Roger. He was a charismatic man; when he was happy, which was often, his enthusiasm for life radiated from him, and permeated your own skin, making you feel the same way. He was a great pick-me-up, a natural and (probably not) unaddictive stimulant.

Roger looked around as the two of you crossed the street, and you wouldn’t normally notice something so commonplace that, except he kept tossing his head back in the same direction.

“What is it?” you asked.

He leaned in close to you. Speaking soft whispers into your ears, he sent warm breath which flirted against your neck like the wings of a hummingbird, sending a cascade of shivers down your spine and making the cold seem suddenly a touch more bearable.

“Don’t look, but there’s a woman with a camera back over to your right.” They were the words of an urgent conspirator, and you knew immediately what he meant.

You fought the urge to find that woman - who was undoubtedly a journalist, ready to publish her photographs right above some scandalous story detailing your imagined romance - and give her a piece of your mind, and maybe a bit more. “Let’s just hurry,” you grit your teeth and said.

You’re not entirely sure what purpose it served, but Roger shifted the hold of his drinks to one hand and threw his other arm around your shoulders, as if to guide you back to the studio, to shield you from the capture of the photographer’s lens. You didn’t quite see the need, but you were thankful for the added warmth.

When you got back to the studio, the others swarmed like bees to get their coffee. It amazed you that such an unpredictable and uncontrollable bunch as they could be made to heel so easily with just the scent of caffeine.

“Oh, John, this one’s yours - and, wait, no, Brian, don’t take that one; it’s Freddie’s - okay, here, I think that’s all sorted.” You smiled at the boys as you apportioned their drinks, then grabbed yours from Roger. “Thanks.”

“No problem, love,” he said. The pet name didn’t really register; he usually used terms of endearment like “love” and “honey” when talking to you, or (you assumed) to most girls.

The boys settled into their spots in the sitting area and ingested enough coffee to be fully alert for the proceedings before they all got down to business. Their latest album, just released, was on the shelves, and they had only to wait for the royalties, and to schedule a tour for the album in the coming months. Now was just their period of unwinding; they could never just leave the studio so abruptly, lest they lose all sense of direction and end up wasting all of their off-time, so they had to ween off gently.

They took this opportunity to discuss tour dates. “I think that March would be a good time to start,” Brian proposed. “It’s only a couple months away, but it’ll give us all time to wind down before we head off.”

You nodded. “That sounds like good timing.”

Freddie turned to look at you. “So are you actually going to come on this one?”

You had always found ways to avoid them before; the constant travelling never seemed like something you wanted to do, since you didn’t know the band to well until now. When you first started your stint as assistant, you wanted to be strictly that, and nothing more. But, now that you could easily call them all friends after this last album, you reconsidered. “Never said that,” you sipped your coffee. “Just that it sounds like a good plan.”

Roger shook his head. “Ah, ah, no. You don’t have a say unless you agree to come with us. We need our assistant.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not your only assistant, you know. And besides, attending tours isn’t strictly in my job description.”

He shrugged. “It could be. We could change it and I know you wouldn’t quit.”

Yeah, wouldn’t, or couldn’t? you thought to yourself, but otherwise let the matter rest.

“WHEN WILL THEY GO PUBLIC? ROGER TAYLOR AND Y/N L/N SEEN AGAIN!

Above is a view of the lovebirds taking a morning stroll to their studio, huddling together for warmth. These repeated sightings beg the question of when....”

You didn’t even read any farther. It infuriated you to no end, how blatant these lies were - and any repudiation or disaffirmation you could make would be seen as “the Lady doth protest too much, methinks” to the eyes of the journalists and the public.

You began to pace around the studio. The rest of the boys and the technicians hadn’t arrived yet - you were usually first anyway, taking it upon yourself to both open in the morning and close in the evening, and to get the heater up and running before Freddie got there and complained.

It would never sit well with you that these journalists wouldn’t stop. You did nothing out of the ordinary, and it was still feeding the fire. You couldn’t hold a civil conversation with your mother or siblings, and you’ve avoided talking to your friends from uni because you were sure they’d be even worse. You really hoped Roger appreciated how much you went through just to work for his band.

The door swung forward with a loud creek and Roger stepped in, finding you furiously paving a hole in the floor. “G’morning,” he said, somewhat confused, but taking it in stride nonetheless. He knew that you’d tell him what bothered you if he needed to know.

Which he most certainly did need to know.

“Roger, this needs to stop. At this rate, I’ll be in hiding by next month - and even then, they’ll probably say I’ve gone on holiday to hide a pregnancy.”

You thrusted the new edition of the paper into his face, making him grab it and squint, trying to make out what it said without his glasses.

He looked at the picture. It was the two of you from behind, taken by the photographer that morning the two of you got coffee together. It just so happened to be the moment when he had leaned in close, as if whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

A wretched thought ran through your mind: did Roger, knowing that a reporter trailed behind them, lean in to purposely bait them into believing this lie? To give them more evidence?

“Roger,” you said slowly, carefully, “did you plan this?” He looked sharply up at you. “Do you still think this is some great joke?”

“God, no, Y/N!” He was outraged. “I didn’t think that would be - okay, maybe I just didn’t think. I needed to tell you and I was afraid she’d overhear and take that as some invitation to approach. I swear, I didn’t want her to get that picture.”

You eyed him critically, and you could tell he was hurt by your accusations. In your defense, he always was a practical joker; and, sometimes, he didn’t exactly grasp the concept of boundaries. “Sorry,” you shook your head. “This is just really stressful. I know you’re not doing this on purpose. You wouldn’t.”

His expression softened. “Hey,” he said, coming closer to rub comforting circles onto your back. “It’ll turn out all right, okay? I promise.”

Looking at him, you really wanted to trust what he said. Everything he did was with the utmost sincerity; he truly believed that this could be made right. You weren’t so confident.

The two of you stood for a while like that, each in quiet contemplation over how to handle this great problem. The hand on your back stopped moving, but rested there, providing a much appreciated pressure; it reminded you that, even though it was Roger’s fault you were in this predicament, you weren’t alone.

“You know,” he said slowly, as if anticipating a rebuttal. This didn’t bode well for what he had to say. “The press won’t stop their theories until one or both of us is out of the public eye – which definitely won’t happen anytime soon – or until something happens.”

You tilted your head. “I don’t follow you. Wouldn’t something happening just make them more rabid?”

He shrugged. “Of course, to begin with. But then it’s old news, after it all dies down. Think about it. We give them what they want – say, for a month or so – and they get the full story. You and I, lovers, dating, whatever they want to call it. But eventually, it’ll just become old news. Neither of us can just step down, so we have to give them what they want – what the public wants – until they get fed up with it.”

It almost, almost made sense. “But, Roger, I’m not sure that would work. And besides, we aren’t actually dating, in case you didn’t know.”

He grinned. “And we wouldn’t have to be. We could pretend, just out in public, to be a bit closer than we really are. That’s all it would take.”

You crossed your arms and thought. Could it really work? Roger had admittedly been in the papers longer than you had; he’d probably know with more certainty what the press is likely to do. A part of you didn’t want to trust that he was right, simply because you yourself weren’t sure, but another part of you knew that it may be your best bet.

You would have a fake boyfriend.

“Well,” you said reluctantly. “What exactly would we have to do?”

He settled onto the couch, and you could tell that this would be an in-depth discussion. Well, it would have to be, you figured, so you sat and faced him.

“It would look to everyone as though we were dating,” he said. He watched you, as if trying to gauge your reaction – did he expect you to overreact? If he did, then he should have been there for the very first published story, not now. Now, you weren’t exactly immune, but you could handle it better.

“But we won’t be,” you clarified.

“No, of course not,” he said. “But I’m willing to bet that we’d be pretty good actors.”

And so you drew up specifics. There were certain things you’d have to make sure you do, if either of you suspect that there’s a reporter anywhere near. An arm around the shoulder was the sign that someone was close, so you knew when to really lay it on thick; but other than that, any time that you were out in public, just to be sure, you’d give each other random kisses on the cheek (which you did as friends, anyway) and hold each other’s hands (which would only be slightly uncomfortable.

“What about kissing?” Roger asked.

You were quick to respond. “Not on the lips,” you said. That was something you were certain of – you didn’t want to kiss somebody for show. It was too intimate an activity for you to fake. “Never.”

He whistled. “Never, okay,” he said, and made a note of it. “I suppose they’ll just have to do without kissing, then. May take a bit longer, though.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to be that obvious so suddenly,” you reasoned.

“Maybe we do, though,” he said. “That’s the sort of thing that they would eat up – they wouldn’t think it’s too sudden or anything, especially since they’re expecting it.”

You shook your head. “No kissing,” you repeated.

“If you’re sure,” he let the matter drop. “A couple more things. You don’t have a boyfriend, right?”

Usually, when someone asked you this question, it was with a highly judgmental tone: you can’t get a boyfriend, right? Though you knew that Roger’s question in no way had the same inflection, the memory of answering so many times before brought a slight blush to your cheeks. “Nope.”

“Well, that’s good, then. ‘Cause it would be hard to pretend to date if either of us is going off with someone else. I know I’ll stop seeing girls, too.”

You laughed. “Is that possible?”

“Time will tell,” he said with faux solemnity. “Just one last thing – the end of this whole deal.”

“Will we need to have a public breakup?” That, you figured, might be easier than pretending to date in the first place.

His eyes widened. “No, no! The opposite, really. The whole point is to get the attention of the press, then to lose it. Let them forget, and just stop after a while. We can’t do any sort of public breakup; that’ll just bring up another mess.”

You felt a bit dumb; his plan made perfect sense. He must have been able to see your embarrassed expression.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. You’re not used to this stuff.”

You leaned back and sighed. “And I never want to be.”

You tell Freddie, Brian, and John later that day, once they all get to the studio. It’s something you can’t hide from them; and even if you could, it would be a terribly great betrayal, and you and Roger respected them too much to let that happen.

You couldn’t tell anybody else, though. Your mother believed that you were getting serious with him – not that you were on speaking terms with her yet, though. Your roommate even believed the publications, despite having seen no proof herself.

It wasn’t as hard as you had feared it would be, pretending to love Roger. That was probably because you did love him, just in a different way. You were completely comfortable holding his hand or leaning against him as you walked down the sidewalk. And he didn’t make it awkward, either; he took it naturally, like this was supposed to happen, and everything that happened before – or, rather, everything that didn’t happen before – seemed wrong.

The first time you really had to act the part in public was their first album gig at a stadium in London, before the tour was really planned out. You’d helped them set up their equipment and directed a few of the handymen who did the heavy lifting; such was your job. You did whatever was needed in the moment.

After the work was done and the band was in place, you took your usual spot off to the side of the stage to watch them perform. You let yourself go away with the music; you were incredibly lucky to find work with a band that was sounded good, with members who were fun to be around. The concert gave you time to really appreciate how good you had it, as opposed to how it may have been.

And though the newspapers hadn’t stopped, they weren’t not bothering you nearly as much anymore. You credit this largely to the fact that you expect the influx of theories and rumors. It’s proof that your – well, Roger’s – plan worked.

After the band stopped, the crowd milled around and chattered about the gig, how successful it was. Because of course Queen was a great hit. You’d never seen them with an audience not entirely captivated, including yourself.

As you waited for things to quiet down, you felt a warm pressure against your back, and an arm closed around your waist in a secure embrace. You could tell by the smell, of all things, that it was Roger.

“Hey,” you greeted, slightly surprised.

He rested his head on your shoulder and turned to face you. Through the corner of your eye, you saw him smirking.

“This is going to be some perfect publicity, love,” he whispered lowly, and you hadn’t realized how close he was to you until he spoke, and his lips brushed against the tender skin of your neck.

You couldn’t suppress the shiver that racked your body. “God, Rog, you need to stop that!” You made sure to say it lowly, and with a laugh at your lips, but part of you was serious.

“What, you ticklish?”

You were about to say yes, but the words died in your throat as Roger’s fingers splayed against the flat of your stomach, threatening to move. “Don’t you dare,” you said.

He chuckled, and just the vibration of that put you on edge. “I won’t,” he said, “if you turn around and kiss me.” This time, it was the words themselves that made you shiver. He could feel your rebuttal coming on. “Or, at least, pretend to. For the camera.”

He spun you around, and you let him. He locked onto your eyes. “Trust me?”

You smiled slowly. “Why not?”

There was a very good reason why not, in fact.

He brought a hand up to cup your cheek, and you knew – thought – that he would use it to block the fact that you wouldn’t really touch lips from the camera, which you suspected was somewhere in the crowd.

But instead of bringing his face so close to yours that you could almost touch, he pressed his lips to yours in a sudden and firm kiss.

The one hand on your cheek and the other on your waist, while neither forceful nor demanding, grounded you and stopped any hope you had of movement. You probably couldn’t have moved, anyway; your body was frozen in a shock that was a mixture of anger and excitation.

At first, it was just a firm, constant pressure. The only thing about it that made you feel like it was a kiss was the pure knowledge of what it was.

Then he started moving.

The pressure wasn’t so constant anymore. He caressed you and tilted his head, then swept his tongue against your closed lips. It was quite unlike anything you had felt before. The shock of sensation made you gasp ever so slightly, but it was enough to grant him entrance.

This, you knew, was a real kiss – not just by the knowledge that lips touching lips was kissing; by the electricity that shot from your head down to your toes, to the tips of your fingers, and across your shoulders. You were covered in gooseflesh, and the room felt hot and cold at the same time. It built up, and up, and up, and he was kissing you and it just wouldn’t stop.

Until he stopped.

He pulled away abruptly, leaving you standing there, eyes closed, frozen in place. Your body stopped, and the potential energy that had built up froze, too.

Your eyes flew open. “What was tha –”

He pressed a finger to your lips and shook his head. “Hush, now,” he told you, shooting his eyes off to the side. “We’ve got company.”

You narrowed your eyes and grabbed his arm, turning around abruptly. It didn’t take long for you to choose a direction and go with it – you couldn’t look like you didn’t have a purpose, now, because you were trying to prove a point. You needed to speak to him, now.

A secluded place was very nearly hard to find, but you eventually settled on a dark hallway behind the main stage, where only two women stood, smoking something that probably weren’t cigarettes, and paying you no mind.

Letting go of Roger’s arm and crossing yours, you spin around to face him. “What was that, Roger? We had a deal! No kissing!”

He held up his hands defensively. “Hey, I had to do something. They had a camera right there – literally right there.”

“You knew the terms!”

“Yeah, well, I thought it was stupid then, and I think it’s stupid now. Look, it only had to be once. Most people don’t get caught off guard like that too often – this’ll be our one and only, Y/N. Trust me.”

You grumbled, “I did, and look what happened.”

“Oh, come on. It can’t have been that bad.”

“I’m not saying it was!” You flinched. “I – I’m not saying it wasn’t, either!” You put your face in your hands. “Just shut up, okay? I’m mad at you.”

He chuckled and pulled you into a friendly embrace. “Oh, come on. It had to happen, and you know it. I just didn’t want to delay the inevitable.”

Part of you so strongly wished to hold onto your frustration, to hold strong to your convictions – but as you remembered the kiss, you can’t say that you regretted it. You were beyond livid with him, with his audacity to assume that he could just kiss you, when you specifically said that he couldn’t, but you told him so when you expected not to enjoy it. Now that you did . . .

No. You shook your head and pushed the thought from your mind.

You found that his hug calmed you down. Even though Roger was the target of your anger, only he could stop you from working yourself into such a fury. “You still shouldn’t have done it.”

“I know,” he said, but he didn’t quite sound sorry.

Moments passed as the two of you just listened to the hum of the crowd outside. Usually, Roger would have been out there, entertaining people and letting them entertain him – and despite your dispute with him, you were thankful that he’d chosen you this time for company.

You ended up sitting side by side, backs against the wall.

“So,” he said, completely casual, “that was your first kiss, right?”

You were taken aback. So what if it was? “Of course not!”

He laughed and shook his head. “Yes, it was.”

“Was not!”

“Was!”

“What makes you think that was my first?”

“Well, for one, your face right now. You’re red as a cherry. And second, the kiss wasn’t the best –”

“Excuse me!”

“Okay, okay, fine. It was just obvious that you weren’t exactly . . . experienced.”

“I’m not a slut like you, you mean.”

He bumped your shoulder. “I take offense to that.”

“You should. You can’t just assume I’ve never kissed before.”

“I really don’t need to.”

You huffed, exasperated, and closed your eyes. “This conversation is over.”

He shifted beside you. “Nope, it’s not. I can’t let you get away from me without imparting some of my knowledge unto you.”

You let your head fall onto your shoulder, looking at him sidelong.

“I’m serious. You’ve never had a steady boyfriend, have you?”

A clipped laugh escaped your lips. “Again, overstepping your boundaries, Rog.”

“Come on. I’m just trying to help. And, you avoided that question – just proves that I’m right. You haven’t been able to keep a guy for so long.”

You looked down, fiddling with your fingers. “Well, it’s not my fault,” you conceded. “They were just . . . poor fits.”

He turned to face you. “That’s exactly what I mean. By the time that we’re through with this dating game, I’ll make sure that you know what a good date is. You deserve to be happy with someone, Y/N, and I do hate to see you so lonely.”

You were about to refute that and say that you weren’t lonely; that you were perfectly happy by yourself. But you weren’t.

“We’ll go on real, proper dates. Or, at least, proper fake dates. We’ll go to restaurants, to films, whatever you want. You need to know how a good date is supposed to go, because judging by your lack of kissing experience, you certainly don’t.”

“You’re being quite presumptuous.”

“I have your best interests at heart.”

That marked a new act in the play that was your life “dating” Roger Taylor.

The very next day, tabloids exploded with three different photographs of your kiss. It was all the press needed to run wild, and you could tell that it would be weeks yet until they ran dry of fuel from the event.

The good thing about that publicity was that it meant no more kissing for you and Roger. You were mostly glad for this; you didn’t like the idea of nonchalant kissing. To you, intimacy was something serious. But a small, rebellious, and suppressed part of you knew that, once you had felt that spark – tasted the fruit, so to speak – you couldn’t quite forget it.

He held your hand constantly in public. It was such a frequent occurrence that he began to do it in private, too, and you found great comfort in the feeling of his skin against yours. You never expected to feel such physical attraction to something like this, but the kiss had brought on new parts of your imagination that you had never entertained before.

You grew attached to this new feeling. You woke up every morning, looking forward to his embrace. You longed for public excursions, so you had an excuse to rest your head on his shoulder and breathe in the scent of his hair. You felt bereft by his absence.

Never could you have known that playing with fire could have these consequences. You never expected to enjoy your role; you never expected to want it to be true.

In short, you’ve found enlightenment and can never forget it.

What made it worse was Roger’s pact to show you a “proper date”. Apparently, that meant taking you on romantic excursions, in or out of the public eye, to set your standards high in the future.

He would take you to the movies, then to a nice restaurant. Perhaps on a stroll of the park. It started as very tame, very friendly dates; you could easily forget the fact that you were supposed to be a couple. But when he started bringing you to secluded places – and by that, meaning places where nobody else will know you’re together – you began to wonder why.

A candlelit dinner at his flat one evening was too romantic and too private to be practical. You really felt like a proper lover, now; you’d been wined and dined, romanced in all the right ways. It was a pity that you weren’t really loved the way anyone would think you were.

The plates were abandoned on the table, the dying candlelight flickering. You had taken the wine and retired to the living room, where you were lounging on his spacious sofa as close as you could possibly be. The alcohol had put a drowsy sort of haze over your eyes, but since you were seated, you found it relaxing.

“Roger?” your voice was quieter than you intended.

“Yes, love?”

“Do you like me?”

You could practically hear him squint his eyes, trying to figure out what you meant. “Well, of course.”

You didn’t think to wonder if he had misunderstood your question; his answer made your heart flutter all the same. “That’s good,” you said, grabbing onto his hand and pulling it into your lap, then resting your head against his shoulder, “’cause I really like you.”

“You should be. I’m your boyfriend.”

You pouted. “But you’re not really my boyfriend, are you? It makes me sad, you know, to think that I have to pretend to have a guy as nice as you.”

He chuckled. “You think I’m a nice guy?”

“Well, no. But I love you anyway.”

You both paused, shocked in equal parts by your words. You were a bit drunk – not enough to ignore the fact that you just said to him something you couldn’t even say to yourself, but too much to think of a clever way to relieve the tension.

Roger wrapped his arms around you and pulled you ever closer. If you had looked at his face, you’d see an expression of serious contemplation. He didn’t know how to react to your sudden, albeit lazy, declaration. He didn’t know if you were serious, or if you meant it that way – it was easier to believe that you didn’t. He wanted to believe that you didn’t.

But did he really?

Eventually, the both of you fell asleep – the awkward pause too pregnant to move on from, but both of you too inebriated to do anything else, you both just closed your eyes against the world and found comfort in the sweet succor of sleep.

When you woke, your eyes were heavy, and it seemed to be a production to try and open them, so you simply didn’t. Your face was cool, but your body was warm, and you felt perfectly at peace. There was a faint yellow tint to your eyelids, which wasn’t out of the ordinary – it was morning light, softly reminding you to start your day.

There was that early-morning fog over your brain that stopped you from questioning where you were and why you were so unfamiliarly comfortable. You just accepted the warmth that wrapped around you on this slightly cramped space, the gentle oscillation lulled you into wanting sleep once more.

The nest that encapsulated you closed tighter around your waist, and it was an accepted pressure. You stretched your legs and let out a sighing yawn, still not opening your eyes, still not bothering to wonder what was holding you so secure.

“Good morning, love,” came a raspy voice from behind you, from around you. You felt the vibration against your back as the voice spoke. You froze.

The sudden rush of awareness hit you like a tsunami, and your eyes flew open.

You were in Roger’s flat. It took you a moment to remember how you got there; you knew that there was a falsely romantic dinner date, and then . . . talking . . . and then something.

“Er, morning,” you replied. Your throat was dry.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, shifting slightly, but not trying to move you away. You didn’t want to move.

“No,” you said, your heart pounding. “N-no, you didn’t.”

He sighed behind you. “Put your head back,” he said. “It’s too early.”

One of his hands coaxed your head to fall back onto his chest, and it fell with only slight resistance.

It seemed to you that he closed his eyes and fell back into a doze, but you couldn’t do the same. You closed your eyes, sure, but you couldn’t quite relax, knowing that you were laying on Roger Taylor’s sofa – on Roger Taylor – with his arms wrapped about your waist in the oddest sort of embrace.

You knew that Roger wasn’t awake enough to really realize what he was doing. Of course he wouldn’t want to hold you like this if he were cognizant – you were only friends, and this was decidedly not a friendly sort of position to be in.

As much as you tried not to think about it, you couldn’t help but wonder why this made you feel so good. For all it was awkward, it felt more perfect than anything else before it. It felt perfect like holding his hand felt perfect; it felt perfect like kissing him felt perfect; it felt perfect like the sun rising in the east and setting in the west felt perfect.

You betrayed your own attempt at restraint and let yourself fall into a peaceful sort of acceptance. It wasn’t so bad a deal, you figured, to be in this position. At least it was Roger, of all people.

After a while, during which you may or may not have fallen into a light sleep once more (it was quite impossible to tell), you felt Roger begin to stir once more.

One of his hands moved from your waist. The other remained, but you still felt deprived of its wonderful heat. You noticed now that, though you had no blanket of any sort, Roger had kept you warm enough. Your cheeks grew flushed at the thought.

“Roll over, baby,” he said groggily. “Careful, now.”

Slowly, so as not to poke him with your elbows, you twisted around, so that you were facing him.

When you saw the way his hair fanned about his face, the way his eyes were heavy-lidded, and just how relaxed his face was, unmarred by the strain of everyday expressions – it almost made you gasp. Maybe it did make you gasp. “Hi,” you said sheepishly.

“That’s better,” his lips quirked up in a lazy sort of grin, and his eyes found yours. It made your stomach clench. “How’d you sleep?”

He was acting so cavalier, as if this sort of thing happened between the two of you all the time. “You know, it was fine.”

Roger chuckled. “Well, I thought it was bloody amazing. I’ll admit it, Y/N, I sleep better with someone beside me.”

You adjusted your position, getting comfortable again. He didn’t seem eager to move anytime soon. “I’m not used to it. It’s not too bad.”

“Oh, how lonely,” he adopted a tone of fake sympathy, and it made you chuckle. “You’ll learn to love it.”

You tilted your head back. “I will?”

“Once I’m done with you, like I said, you’ll have men left and right. You’ll never have a lonely night again.”

“I imagine I’d get quite tired of people after so long.”

He looked off to the side and shrugged. You didn’t really feel your face getting closer to his, mostly because his eyes weren’t on yours anymore, which didn’t make you so aware of the distance between you.

But when he looked back at you, his eyes were so clear and so close. Everything was so close – your noses almost touched, and your lips, well, you didn’t want to think about your lips. But you couldn’t stop yourself.

You found yourself leaning even further in. It wasn’t even of your own accord. You were like magnets, some invisible force pulling you closer and closer. Roger felt it, too, because you watched his eyes flutter shut before closing your own, as well.

“Do you remember what you said last night?”

He said it so softly, reluctantly, like he didn’t really want to say it in the first place.

“I’m sure I said plenty. Can’t remember it all.”

“Please, try.”

You paused. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Roger.”

He looked at you, eyes narrowed, hardly looking sleepy at all. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t.”

You felt him shifting, to prop himself up against the arm of the sofa, so you scooted down, sitting more on his lap than lying against his chest.

“Last night, did I – did I do something wrong?” You almost didn’t want to know the answer. You hardly ever allowed yourself to drink for fear of what you might do.

He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “You couldn’t ever do anything wrong, Y/N,” he said. “You couldn’t.”

“Then what’s the matter, Rog?” His sudden change in demeanor simply didn’t fit. “I really don’t get you. Sometimes you’re about to . . . then, you just change, like that.” You snapped your fingers. It wasn’t quite the resounding effect you were looking for, since you never were very good at it.

“It’s really nothing, love. Now, let up, I’ve got to shower.”

You shuffled over to the end of the sofa to let him get up and trod over to the bathroom. You fell back against the cushions, perplexed.

You didn’t exactly lie low the next few weeks, but nothing more escalated like it had before. You and Roger went back to the routine outlined by your deal in the beginning, and it was an easy, if unsatisfying deal.

The press was finally getting tired of reporting about the two of you, anyway. What interest was there in a stale, stagnant relationship, amid the scandalous termination of EMI’s contract with the Sex Pistols or the not-so-shocking disclosure of Elton John’s unconventional sexuality?

“There hasn’t been an article about us for weeks,” you said to Roger one afternoon as you all prepared to leave the studio. “That’s practically a century.”

He nodded, not looking up at you; he was shuffling through a few tapes. “Yeah, you’re right.” More shuffling. “You want an end to this, don’t you?”

You always had a natural inclination against lying, so you couldn’t automatically respond with the affirmative. “I mean, well – we really needn’t bother anymore, right?”

Roger turned around slowly, setting down the tapes and leaning back against the soundboard. He crossed his arms. “You’ve got to admit, it was fun, wasn’t it?”

You looked down to hide the smile on your face, but you couldn’t keep the laugh from your voice. “I’d have to say yes.” You covered your mouth with your hand as you giggled. Once he saw your laugh, you noticed his demeanor lighten. “I mean, we just fooled the entire press into thinking –”

“Into thinking exactly what they already thought,” he held up a finger for emphasis. “You see, that’s the beauty of the plan. We didn’t fool them into anything, not really. We just didn’t resist and they ran with it.”

He caught your eye and gave you a kind, happy smile.

Catching your hands, he held them in his own, and looked down at you. “Is there any chance that you’ll miss this?”

“Yes,” you say, because it was easier than trying to lie. “There’s a big chance.”

“I’ll miss it, too,” he admits, and it makes you feel something to hear him say it. “I’ll miss holding your hand.” He took a step closer, dropping one hand to grip your waist. “And I’ll miss holding you like this.” He pulled you closer and closer. “I’ll miss kissing you, most of all.”

You swallowed. “That only happened once.”

He let out a breath. It fell against your cheeks, making your skin tingle. “It really didn’t have to.”

Tilting your head to the side, you asked, “Roger, what are you saying?”

He didn’t shy away from your gaze this time. He held you with his large blue eyes, and you felt like you should look away, this time, but you couldn’t. “I’m saying that I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

You knew what he meant, somewhere in the back of your mind, but still, you said, “Then we can stop. We don’t need to, anymore.”

“That’s not what I mean, Y/N, and you know it.” The grip on your waist tightened as his other hand went there, too, holding you closer. Your noses were touching. “I want to kiss you so badly.”

Your eyes flickered down to his lips. “I think you should,” you say softly. “No more pretending.”

He captured your lips in a searing kiss. You brought your arms up around his neck, pressing your chest to his. It was much more intimate than you’d ever been with him, and the kiss, combined with the thousand other points of contact sent the most wonderfully violent shiver throughout your entire body.

“Roger,” you said in between kisses, “I think I love you.”

He chuckled. “I know.”

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #borhap #bohemian rhapsody #this hasnt been edited as thoroughly as usual #pls excuse gramatical errors #its also really late im sorry

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searching-in-silence · 5 years ago

Note

What's the deal with Jikook and NBC? I'm really, really curious, like there must be something meaningful abt the movie to them, if Jimin personally requested the limited edt snow globe for Jungkook as birthday present. Just like how Jimin gave the bear to V since his song named winter bear, it's something that very understandable.

Anon, thank you for asking me this question, I had been planning to do a post on this for a long time, but I think the opportunity is right for now. hehehe~

Anyway, so Why do jikook like Nightmare Before Christmas? What is it’s significance? And what is NBC anyway.

Going to be a long post, sit tight my friends~

What is NBC? (wiki)

The Nightmare Before Christmas (also known as Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas) is a 1993 American stop-motion animated musical dark fantasy Halloween-Christmas film directed by Henry Selick, and produced and conceived by Tim Burton.

The Nightmare Before Christmas originated in a poem written by Burton in 1982 while he was working as an animator at Walt Disney Feature Animation. Burton began to consider developing The Nightmare Before Christmas as either a short film or 30-minute television special to no avail. Over the years, Burton's thoughts regularly returned to the project, and in 1990, he made a development deal with Walt Disney Studios. Production started in July 1991 in San Francisco; Disney released the film through Touchstone Pictures because the studio believed the film would be "too dark and scary for kids".

It was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Visual Effects, a first for an animated film. The film has since been reissued by Walt Disney Pictures, and was re-released annually in Disney Digital 3-D from 2006 until 2009, making it the first stop-motion animated feature to be entirely converted to 3D.

Plot of NBC.

It is the same routine every year in Halloween Town, on Halloween the monsters come out and perform a real scare. This particular Halloween, the pumpkin king Jack Skellington, bored of the idea, saunters off into the woods with his dog Zero after Halloween night. Upon the break of dawn, he discovers a clearing of trees with different doors representing various holidays. The Christmas Tree door attracts his attention and upon entrance into the world of Christmas, Jack is fascinated with this new idea of Christmas that he must absolutely share with the citizens of Halloween Town. But their view is different and they aren’t thrilled.

The story goes on and it seems like Jack and everyone else in town plans to sabotage Christmas except for Sally.The evil scientist in the story must whip up some reindeer, Halloween town's top trick-or-treaters are to kidnap Sandy Claws, and Sally's task is to make Jack a red Santa suit. She tries to tell him that co-opting Christmas is a terrible idea, but he's too wrapped up in his enthusiasm to listen.

Later when Jack’s plan fails and he realizes his mistake, Santa Claus scolds Jack about trying to take over a holiday that isn't his, and then sets about magically saving Christmas. Jack and Sally return to town just as Santa Claus flies over and offers the Halloween towns folk a bit of Christmas magic: their first snowfall. Jack and Sally share a tender moment in the cemetery, realizing they were always meant to be together.

For what reasons could jikook relate to NBC??

(Reference taken from Oh My Disney, for NBC couple Jack and Sally)

The Nightmare Before Christmas enchants us with its whimsy and magic, but it also gives us really intense couple goals. Jack and Sally are the perfect couple, 7 reasons why:

1. They’re opposites, so they balance each other out nicely - Jack is impulsive and a dreamer, while Sally is far more sensible. Every relationship needs a little bit of both; that’s the only way things stay interesting, but never get out of hand.

2. They can both remove body parts while incurring zero harm to themselves - Jack can take his skull off to recite Shakespeare, and Sally can remove her limbs. Cool couples always have random, unlikely things in common.

3. They give each other cool presents - And by “they,” we mostly mean Sally. Although who’s to say what sort of things Jack dreams up after The Nightmare Before Christmas ends? Sally gets Jack a ghost butterfly as a gift, which is way, wayyyy cooler than a standard tie or whatever.

4. They are both probably somewhat immortal - We’re not sure exactly what the rules are here (it seemed like maybe Jack was in mortal peril when the military started attacking his sled?), but as a skeleton and a rag doll, we think they’re at least immortal in the elven “no death by natural causes” sense. People might say, “Til death do us part,” but not even death can stop them!

5. Sally supports Jack even when she disagrees with him - What’s love if it’s not standing with someone even when they fail spectacularly, especially when you warned them about it beforehand and they didn’t listen to you? Sally doesn’t say “I told you so” even once. We think that’s magic.

6. They look so good together - We know it’s what’s on the inside that truly counts, but look at them. Jack is the dapperest, and Sally the most chic.

7. They’re simply meant to be - It’s plain to see.

Now after seeing the above points ^, I reached to the conclusion that Jikook must relate to them, since Jack and Sally are couple goals, kekeke~

And we know that by coincidence, ‘Sally’ (another character with same name as of sally in the movie) is a part of Line friends collection, and Jimin is often seen with her.

(wiki)

Line Friends (stylized as LINE FRIENDS) are featured characters based on the stickers from messaging app Line. It was released in 2015 by Line Corporation, a Japanese subsidiary of the South Korean internet search giant Naver Corporation. These characters are used in various products, animation, game, cafe, hotel and theme park. The brand is currently managed by its subsidiary Line Friends Corporation since 2015.

Sally: with her unexpected charm, cute little Sally brings joy to her friends with full of bright and wild ideas. Don’t be fooled by her cuteness. She might reveal other side of her you’ve never expected!

So it could be that Jimin related both sallys with himself and that is why he was so intrigued by the movie. Also who is as impulsive as Jungkook? Jack maybe ;)

Not to forget their whole Disney trip was nightmare themed. many even say that jk wore jack themed cap. hahaha. This relation is cute. :))

edit : for clarification, I have taken the NBC points from wiki, oh my disney and imbd. I have yet to watch the movie. and I m not analysing the movie, please keep that in mind, I have just stated a few facts I collected. and no nbc isn't a romantic movie.

the end result of the movie is what I highlighted that jikook may have related to. I could be wrong. so don't come in my ask box to hate on me for that.

#jikook #kookmin #jimin #jungkook #gcf #Nightmare before chirstmas #relationship #couple goals #NBC and jikook #3rd #bring the soul : docu series #2019 #post #thoughts #ask asnwered #ask

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searchingwardrobes · 5 years ago

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Here’s another story from the universe of my novel What Hindered Love. That book was told completely from Chloe’s point of view, but I have several unpublished scenes from Micah’s point of view. Fittingly, this is Micah’s version of what happened on Valentine’s Day when Chloe thought he was hooking up with another woman.

Summary: Once an addict, always an addict. Especially when wires get crossed on Valentine’s Day. Luckily, all Micah has to do is use the code word “busted,” and his friends are there.

Tagging those who might be interested: @vvbooklady1256 @winterbaby89 @ilovemesomekillianjones @snowbellewells @kday426 @onceuponaprincessworld @ekr032-blog-blog @nikkiemms @bethacaciakay @branlovestowrite @xhookswenchx @thislassishooked @sherlockianwhovian @ultraluckycatnd @flicialy23 @harshini0

Anyone else who wants to be tagged for WHL content, please just let me know!

Spoilers for the novel, obviously, so it’s below the cut:

Micah Barrett should have known that his attempts to ignore the fact that today was Valentine’s Day were doomed to failure. Because if there was anyone he knew who would celebrate such a saccharine holiday with childlike enthusiasm it would be Amanda Swisher, the culinary arts student he was training to be his baking assistant. Oh, and he and Amanda had to report to work at 5 am to construct a cake. Shaped like a castle. With turrets. For a wedding proposal. So yeah, there was that.

He wasn’t surprised to hear Amanda crooning Carrie Underwood’s “Cowboy Casanova” as she whipped up batter, but he would have expected her to forgo the traditional Valentine’s colors. Since her hair was flaming red on its own. But no. Amanda had boldly donned a frothy pink dress topped off with a white cardigan covered in tiny pink and red hearts. Her hair was up in a ponytail, per Micah’s own code in his kitchen (he always shuddered to see all that hair dangling over bowls of batter on Cupcake Wars), but she had used a bit of red tulle to tie it back.

“You’re a walking Whitman’s sampler,” he muttered when he saw her, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“Aw, don’t tell me my mentor, my Yoda of baking, is a Valentine’s Grinch,” Amanda teased back.

“Well, they’re both green, aren’t they?”

Amanda just chuckled good-naturedly and rolled her eyes as she slipped the first pan of batter into the oven. Part of the reason he had picked her for the internship, aside from her brilliant fondant work, was her demeanor. He could be charming, but perky he was not. Especially when stressed over an order, particularly the intricate kind they were constructing today. Amanda’s enthusiasm and positivity was a good balance for his intensity.

Micah looked over the sketches of the massive cake they had to construct. Multiple tiers, multiple levels, three different flavors of cake, four different fillings, not to mention it had to look like a castle, complete with turrets. Their client wanted his girlfriend’s engagement ring sitting on the balcony of one of the turrets. Looking over everything now, Micah thought he may have gotten carried away with his brainstorming.

“This girl better say yes,” Micah muttered as he got to work.

“Oh, she will,” Amanda sighed dreamily, “I mean, it’s a fairy tale proposal. They must really be in love.”

“Stop!” Micah yelped when he noticed the container in her hand.

Amanda startled and checked the label. “Baking soda? Oops! It was sitting right by the powdered sugar. Silly me!”

Micah narrowed his eyes at her. Amanda was a little airheaded perhaps, but she was always careful in her work. Something was up, and he had a feeling he knew what it was.

Hours flew by, and Micah had the main portion of the castle constructed and awaiting Amanda’s magic with icing and fondant. He had the first turret constructed as well but was having difficulty with the balcony meant to hold the ring. Cake was light, and he was worried about the narrow turret holding that kind of weight. Simultaneously, he had a batch of Italian meringue going. With his hands full constructing the turret, he called out to Amanda, who was whipping up raspberry filling.

“Hey, turn the mixer down on that meringue, would you?”

Simultaneously, Micah’s cell phone rang, and Amanda snatched it up, “Hello, Micah Barretts’ phone!”

Micah thought to himself that he needed to tell Amanda not to answer his phone like an over-exuberant sixteen year old, but for now, there was the meringue. Micah laughed, shook his head, and gestured towards the mixer. Amanda squealed as she saw the meringue whipping way too fast and giggled, reaching for the mixer’s switch as she continued her distracted conversation with whoever was on the phone.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

In her distraction, Amanda flipped the mixer’s switch to high. Meringue flew out of the bowl. Micah was surprised when laughter spilled out of his mouth. Must have been Amanda’s influence. Meringue splashed across his eyes as the turret on the cake-castle started to tilt.

“Amanda! Get over here!”

Micah couldn’t see with the meringue in his eyes, even though he was still laughing. He heard a plop and a muffled curse from Amanda, and then she was beside him.

“Quick, brace it with some pillars,” he instructed, relieved that she knew his kitchen as well as he did. He hated using pillars – they screamed 1980s – but what else could they do? Amanda rescued the turret before the cake could crack by slipping two plastic pillars under the balcony portion. She then wet a towel and began gently wiping the meringue from his eyes. Once he could actually see, he took in Amanda’s appearance. She was similarly covered in meringue, and they both dissolved into laughter. They’d been at this since five am, so it was no wonder they were punch drunk.

“It’s all in your hair,” Amanda gasped.

Micah groaned and ran a hand through his hair, feeling the meringue smear through it. It must have made him look quite the sight, because Amanda dissolved in a fresh fit of giggles. Micah stuck his head in the sink and turned on the tap. When he straightened, rubbing his wet hair with his fingers, Amanda was lifting his cell phone carefully by two fingers from the depths of the bowl of raspberry filling.

“Micah, I am so sorry.”

He took the phone from her carefully, futily attempting to wipe the sticky filling off with paper towels. “Josiah’s gonna kill me,” he groaned. “This is my third phone in six months.”

“You make a habit of dropping phones into your baking?”

Micah shrugged. “Or leaving them too close to a burner on the stove. Who was the call from anyway?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch anything they said.”

Even though the phone was still sticky, Micah pushed the on button. Nothing. He sighed. “It’s ok, Amanda. It wasn’t your fault.” He took the bowl of filling over to the cake layer he had waiting on a cake stand.

Amanda returned to rolling out her fondant and sighed, “I think it was my fault. I’m very distracted today.”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the contractor who redid the barn, would it? What was his name again . . . “

He was teasing her, actually. He remembered the man’s name.

“Eric. His name’s Eric.” Amanda blushed enough to match her hair, which was answer enough. “Maybe. We’re going out again tonight.”

Micah paused in spreading raspberry filling and turned to look at Amanda with mock concern. “Third date? On Valentine’s Day? What are this guy’s intentions?”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled as if pleased with his concern. “Calm down, big brother. He’s not that kind of guy. He’s . . . sweet.”

“I’ve never seen him at church.” Five years ago, Micah never would have expected to be grilling someone about a potential suitor’s church attendance. But Amanda volunteered in the nursery at Community Fellowship and sang back up in the praise band on occasion. Her faith was important to her.

Amanda waved off his concern. “He goes to the Baptist church on the other side of town. But, he’s not exactly plugged in there, so he said he might visit Community Fellowship with me sometime.”

“Does he sing or play an instrument?”

Amanda laughed, “You and Hannah always trying to recruit people to the praise team. No, he isn’t musical at all. But he says he loves my voice.”

Amanda blushed again and a dreamy look came over her face. She hummed a little as they continued working, but inevitability she turned the romance talk towards Micah. He was surprised it had taken her this long, honestly.

“So, Micah, do you have any special plans tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m sure there’s a hockey game on tonight,” he answered dryly.

Amanda stopped what she was doing to turn towards him, a hand on her hip. “Micah, I have never seen you date, and it’s not right.”

“Why? I have my business, my son,” my former addiction he silently added. Getting clean and staying clean was a long, difficult process, and it was something few could understand.

“Yes, you’re successful, you’re a good father, you’re a good guy. And well, you’re no Eric, but you’re still not bad on the eyes.” Amanda flicked flour teasingly at him to punctuate her point.

“Oh, I can’t disagree with any of your points,” Micah teased back with a quirk of an eyebrow, “but perhaps I simply haven’t found the right woman.” Chloe’s face floated before his consciousness, but he tamped it down.

“Tina would say yes if you asked her out. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

Micah scoffed, “Not my type.”

“But Hannah and Kate told me you have a thing for blondes.”

Only one. Kate and Hannah knew that full well, too, but Amanda was too naïve not to read more into it. Micah straightened from his task carving the cake layers into the shape of the second turret and rolled his shoulders back. “Can we change the subject?”

Amanda may have been naïve, but she had also worked with Micah long enough to pick up on his moods. She made a comment about needing music to work and reached over to where her iPod was docked. When Carrie Underwood’s voice started crooning, he groaned.

“Amanda, what have I repeatedly said about country music?”

She chuckled, “Just teasing.” She switched it to the grunge station and Micah sighed happily as Pearl Jam thrummed through the speakers. “Although why depressing, angst-filled music makes you feel better, I’ll never know.”

Micah tilted his head to the side as Eddie Vedder sang She lies and says she’s in love with him, can’t find a better man, and thought Amanda had a point.

“Actually, you can turn it back. Carrie Underwood’s not so bad.”

***************************************************************

Micah parallel parked his truck into a space outside The Daymark, spotting Chloe’s car a few spaces ahead. Good, she’s still here. He’d replaced the cell phone Amanda had ruined yesterday, and he was glad he didn’t wait until Monday. Chloe’s voicemail sent relief flooding through him, but her text message . . . that had left him equal parts baffled and confused. He pulled it up to read one more time.

I haven’t heard back from you. I’m surprised because this is – you know – important? I’m meeting with the lawyer at The Daymark tomorrow at noon, and I’m hoping it’s all good news. Not that you care. You know, since you’re ignoring me?

Micah could understand Chloe feeling ignored. She was right, it was important news. And she didn’t know his phone was ruined. But if he was reading between the lines correctly – and he usually was where Chloe was concerned – she was upset with him about far more than that.

But he was here now to fix that. As soon as he’d gotten both messages, he had frantically checked his watch and raced to the diner to try and catch Chloe before she left. It was already two, so he had fully prepared himself to miss her. The sight of her car was a beautiful one.

Micah headed down the sidewalk and into the diner, inwardly rehearsing his apology. His eyes found Chloe immediately, and the sight froze him in his tracks. Her head was down, a pretty blush coloring her cheeks. The man across from her held her hands in his, thumbs brushing over Chloe’s knuckles in an intimate gesture. No wonder she was still here two hours later; this wasn’t a business meeting, this was a lunch date! Feeling foolish, Micah turned and headed straight back out the door. He thought he heard Chloe call out after him, but he wasn’t sure. And even if she was, he was too humiliated to face her.

Micah made his way quickly back to the truck, pulling out of his parking space blindly. He was lucky the street was empty. Adam Murray. How could he have been so stupid? The guy was exactly Chloe’s type, and a successful lawyer to boot. Not to mention they had been spending quite a bit of time together.

Micah’s leg started to throb like it hadn’t in years. He pulled over and took several deep breaths, kneading his leg hard with his left thumb. He tilted his head back and thought over all the ways he had learned to deal with the pain: exercise, meditation, prayer, his music. But he knew this pain was more mental – okay, emotional – than physical. So was the desperate desire to numb his pain the way he used to.

With trembling hands, he lifted his phone and hit Ryan Newton’s contact number. When his friend answered, he paused for a moment, and then with a shaky breath, said, “Busted.” He felt a little silly saying it – the code word was Ryan’s idea, though Micah wanted to call it something like “Screw-Up or “Family Disappointment” – but he had to admit he was glad he could convey his need without a lengthy explanation.

“Okay,” Ryan said without hesitation, “I’ll gather the troops. My place is full of rugrats. What about Beau’s man cave?”

“Negative. They’ve renovated it into a kid’s room.”

“Oh right, the adoption thing.”

“My place is fine. I’ll order us a pizza. You just call everyone. Is six good?”

“Yeah, but Logan and I will be there by five. You gonna be ok until then?”

Micah rubbed his leg; the pain was a little more bearable, but more importantly, his urge for pills was gone. “Yeah, but about Logan –“

“Micah!”

“Okay, okay. You’re right. Call Logan. See you at five.”

Micah hung up and slammed his palm hard against his steering wheel. Once an addict, always an addict. How many times had he heard that in rehab? He just really wished he was a stronger man. Maybe then Chloe wouldn’t be on a date with someone else.

*******************************************************

Ryan showed up promptly at five with a six pack of sodas.

“The good thing about your two best friends being a pastor and a recovered alcoholic is they don’t mind swinging back a few Cokes instead of beer,” Ryan quipped as he headed to the kitchen.

“What else have you got there?” Micah asked, gesturing to the plate in Ryan’s hand.

“Homemade chocolate chip cookies via Maggie.”

Micah grinned and grabbed a cookie and a soda just as Logan let himself in. “I come bearing turtle brownies!” he announced, frowning when he saw the cookies. “You guys better eat these too, or Rose won’t let me back in the house.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Micah said, polishing off his cookie and reaching for a brownie. “The hockey game doesn’t start until 5:30, but the pre-game stuff should be on.”

Logan snatched the remote from Micah’s hand. “Not so fast. We need to talk about how you used the code word. Before Josiah and Beau get here.”

Micah groaned and fell back against the couch, running both hands through his hair. “Crisis averted, guys. Can we just leave it at that?”

“No, we can’t,” Logan said firmly. “That’s the whole point of me being your mentor, remember? Now what was your trigger? Emotional? Physical? Stress related?”

Emotional. He really didn’t want to get into this. But Ryan and Logan were both patient men, and the silence dragged on. “Chloe, okay. Are you happy?”

“Is this still the Scott thing?” Ryan asked across the kitchen island.

“No, he’s dropped that, thank God.”

“Well, that’s great news!” Logan enthused, slapping Micah on the knee. Micah thought about how Logan and Rose were the ones who introduced Chloe to Adam and suddenly had the irrational desire to punch his friend.

It fell quiet again as his friends waited for him to elaborate. “Chloe told me she was meeting with the lawyer today at The Daymark, so I thought I would stop by there. It wasn’t a meeting – it was a date.”

“And that bothers you?” Ryan asked.

Micah chuckled and craned his neck to look back into the kitchen where Ryan was leaning against the island. “Yes, it bothers me, Pastor Ryan. I’m a PK, remember? I know when you’re shifting into counseling mode.”

Ryan chuckled and made his way into the living area. “Sorry, then I’ll shift back to friend mode.” He plopped down into the recliner in the corner and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Why don’t you just tell Chloe how you feel?”

Micah shook his head and looked down at his feet. He thought for a few minutes before looking back up at R

yan. “As much as I’ve hurt her, all I really want is for her to be happy. Adam is a good guy, so as much as it hurts . . . I can’t get in the way of that.”

Ryan narrowed his eyes, and Micah could tell the wheels in his head were turning. “Maggie and Chloe have gotten close, you know. I can’t say any-“

Micah held up one hand, “No need to explain. If anyone understands pastor confidentiality, it’s me.��

Ryan nodded once. “All I’ll say is, I still think you and Chloe need to have an honest talk.”

“When she has a shot at something better?”

“Wait a second,” Logan cut in, “who says Adam is better?”

“He’s never broken her heart, for one.” Micah sighed with relief when the doorbell rang. “That’ll be the pizza.”

He rose from the couch and addressed his two best friends as he walked backwards towards the door. “You’ve successfully talked me down off the ledge, so operation successful. Can we now drop the subject of my non-existent love life?”

Being men, they both shrugged and Ryan picked up the remote to turn to the game. Micah sighed with relief as he fished his wallet out of his back pocket and turned towards the door. His busted leg no longer throbbed with phantom pain. He had an arsenal of solutions at his disposal to deal with that kind of pain.

His busted heart was another story.

#what hindered love #my novel #my book #micah barrett #micah's stories #busted heart #shameless self promotion

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mossander · 5 years ago

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How the MK kast reacts to Reader seeing them NSFW

I was at work from I randomly remembered an episode from Firefly where Malcolm is naked for some reason and walks into the Serenity showing off his goods. Then I came up with this prompt of Reader walking into nude people in the MK universe and had too much fun writing about it. I’m gonna try to write for the whole MK11 kast. Warning: copious nudity and sexual references

Scorpion

- Hanzo is nervous about the prospect of making love again. He has done nothing of the sort since before his wife passed away. He has spent so many years suppressing or handling his urges alone that the prospect of sharing them with someone else had become foreign. When he tried to propose the idea of lovemaking to you, he stumbled through so many words and strange analogies you took minutes to understand what he was trying to say. It relieved him you agreed and felt the same, but now he's nervous again for having to go through the next step of seduction. He can barely remember what he did with his wife; all he could remember is welcoming her naked. So while you’re busy in the bathroom, he undresses by the bed and then remains standing in place. Yup, just… standing there. In the buff. Not sure what to do with himself. You come out and you're excited to see him ready. Though you're wondering why his face is still unmoving and stoic, and he can't find a place to put his hands. You come over and help him out.

Sub Zero

- Kuai is taking a steamy shower at his private quarters when you successfully sneak in. The sound of the shower running masks your footsteps and he's totally clueless to your presence. You didn't expect him to be showering, but it only makes the surprise visit better. You sit patiently by the bed, hearing him wash and hum a melody to a traditional Chinese folk song. You wait in anticipation while grinning like a fox. You bite your lip as you hear the faucet turn off and see his shadow dry himself off with a towel. He exits without it, and boom. Yours and his eyes meet and widen. Your eyes then drift down to the sweet spot, and he quickly cups himself and retreats into the bathroom. He yells at you not to sneak into his private quarters without his permission. You respond that it's the only way you get to catch the show.

Raiden

- Raiden is in his inner sanctum trying to brainstorm ideas for his new attire. He tries different designs and color combinations; Each time an idea is scrapped his clothes disappear in a flash and he is naked for a few seconds between changes. He is hoping to decide on a new look before you arrive for a scheduled meeting. Little did he know, you cut your previous plans short and you're able to come by hours earlier than expected. You didn't feel the need to give him advance notice since he told you he’s staying in all day anyway. You walk in and catch a moment where Raiden is lost in thought, standing naked in front of a full body mirror. You gasp involuntarily and quickly avert your eyes. He sees you through the reflection and quickly beams down a simple outfit to cover himself. He approaches you and apologizes profusely. You uncover your face and say it's alright, failing to stop smiling and unable to erase the strong blush on your cheeks.

Baraka

- Baraka invited you to his village to attend a special Tartakan ceremony as a guest. You know nothing of Tarkatan cultural holidays or practices and go in with the assumption it's probably something exotic and savage. When you arrived at the camp, you got seated with the children and the non-Tarkatan captives. You're less than stoked about this until the ceremony begins. Baraka, as head of the village, is the one to start with a tribal dance. He's wearing no clothing at all and is covered in decorative markings that were painted all over his skin. You appreciate the fast and wild movements of his dance, in between the times you're distracted by his peen swinging and spinning without care. You're near the children while they laugh and go “oooh” and “ahhh”, and near the captives while they close their eyes in embarrassment to what they're witnessing. You try your best to appreciate the art while avoiding being too turned on or grossed out.

Noob Saibot

- You didn't know this before but it takes effort for him to remain clothed rather than not. In his normal state, he is nothing more than a shadow in the shape of a man. You catch him in his resting state after navigating a pitch black cave with a lantern. After some searching, you find his silhouette on the wall when you shine your light on it. He pulls out of the silhouette's shadow to reveal himself in his truest form. His body is the shape of what Bi-Han's body was before he was turned into a wraith. One important difference is his face, which has turned into a nose-less horror. You look upon him with equal parts surprise and mystique when he transforms into the visage of his former self, a handsome and human Bi-Han still unclothed. He asks you in a ghostly deep voice if this is what you're looking for. You say you've gotten much more than what you expected.

Cassie Cage

- Both of you lost a bet against Jacqui and Takeda and now the two of you have to go skinny dipping in a cold lake. You're less than thrilled but Cassie's nudging and enthusiasm make you agree to it. When you ask her how you and she are gonna do this, she says to just go with the flow. You go out outside with her and approach the lake at a slow pace. You guys stop a couple of feet by the water's edge and look at each other nervously. She nods, giving the command to strip down and make a run for it. You strip down and wait for Cassie to run in your peripheral vision before you do the same. Both of you jump and hit the water at around the same time. The water is as cold as it looks, and the shock hits you as soon as you stop descending the lake. You take no time to ascend for air and madly swim to shore. As you sit on the dirt, holding yourself to stop the shivering, you see Cassie is taking her time swimming back to where you are. It's clear she's handling a lot better than you are. You watch her lift yourself out and walk calmly towards you, admiring her dripping and toned body as she smiles slyly to you. When she reaches you, she punches you on the shoulder and asks if you enjoyed the show. You say you did and that you might have to get back in for a cold dip.

Erron Black

- You were waiting by his hideout when you received a written message from a pigeon by the window. The message instructed you to bring a set of clothes and to head to a specific location as soon as possible. It also stresses in bold letters to not ask questions. At all. You take his word for it and take his spare outfit before heading out. You get to the destination as quickly as you can only to see you got there before he did, which is a good thing. You remain diligently on standby until you spot him falling from above, onto an awning above a storefront and then land on the ground on his shoulder. You immediately run to search for any injuries. He shoos you and tells you he's okay. He stands in front of you and brushes the dirt off himself. You notice he's nude except for his hat, dual gun holsters with matching pistols, and boots. You make strict eye contact with him, very strict eye contact, making it clear to him you haven't averted your gaze to any other part of him while holding back the widest amused smile. He smirks and tilts his hat up. “Reckon ya got that message I sent ya?”, he asks you. You nod and give him a backpack containing his clothes. “Atta boy/girl,” He wraps his arm around you and together the two of you walk to the nearest private area for him to get dressed again.

Kabal

- It's Valentine's Day and he won't stop texting you. “Love you lots, qt! Can't wait for you to get over here [Scorpion Emoji], Miss ya babe!” He keeps blowing up your phone when you're busy. You were in the middle of a mission while your phone kept buzzing and dinging. You had to turn it off to keep yourself sane. You turn it back on at the end of your mission to find a ridiculous about of notifications from him under the name Kabalbae <3. You don't read or open any of it and throw the phone back in your bag. He did this every time he had a day off and you wish he had better things to do when he got bored. You shake it off and head out thinking you'll return all that affection once you get home. You grab a bottle of good wine and a movie rental in case he forgot and slept in like he normally did. You barely get a foot past the threshold when you're greeted by a nude Kabal fully erect and holding a bouquet and your favorite box of chocolate. “Happy Valentine's, babe.” He winks. You squeal and quickly set down the stuff you carried in. You hug and kiss him excitedly, then grabbed the chocolates and flowers and set them down too. You take full advantage of his body while he's still hard and didn't give a damn that the front door is still wide open.

Kano

- Kano is naked in the Black Dragon base way more often than normal. He sometimes walks around in full view of everyone, not giving a single fuck what anyone thinks of it. When he wants to be left alone, he hangs out by the command table nude, scratching his balls and ass to keep people off his back. Kabal and Erron avoids talking to him entirely when he's like this. Sometimes they taunt him by throwing his pants at him, only for him to scoff and throw them back. He puts the pants back on when it's time to conduct business and wants to talk to the gang without them looking at his dick. When he gets back home after a long day of who knows what, the pants come off again, and he lounges around like normal in his nude self. You're used to this and learned to pay him no mind when he struts around you nude for no reason at all. Today though is slightly different. You're playing on your phone on the couch when he stands in front of you with his hands on his hips. You ask him what the hell he's doing. “Why not take a quick gander, love?” You look up and are taken aback when you notice something different in his appearance. He trimmed the bushes by a lot and it looks a lot tidier now. He even trimmed his happy trail too so you can see what he's hinting at. It looks so good you could almost call it manscaping. “Has anyone at work seen this?” You quipped. “Nah, mate/sheila. Ya got the privilege of being the first.” You smile devilishly as you finally put your phone down.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 11 #mk11 #Scorpion #hanzo hasashi #sub zero #kuai liang #bi han #noob saibot #baraka #cassie cage #erron black #kabal #kano

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