#she is so so so talented and my jaw was legit on the floor when i saw i was paired with her | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sparklingchan · 4 years ago

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Dancing with a Stranger || Lee Minho (Stray Kids)

Pairing : Reader (fem.) x Lee Know

Word count: 6k+

Warnings: Cuss words, mentions of alcohol, mentions of a break up, slight violence and blood (its nothing intense, I swear) ,suggestive towards the end, not proof read.

Genre: Angst , fluff, boyfriend AU , break up - make up AU.

Description : Lee Minho is the best boyfriend you could have ever asked for but when you end up doing the only thing he had begged you not to do, things start going downhill.

Author’s Note: I KNOW I SAID I’LL POST THIS ON MY BIRTHDAY but I am an impatient person and I really wanted everyone to read this asap :( This imagine is one of my personal favorites and like Boyfriend!Minho really hits different, won’t you agree? (Reposting because tumblr decided to be a bitch and not show up my fic in the tags? It’s 2 AM and I’m legit crying?? I was so excited about this) Yeh le @chogiwow !

Please do reblog, like and send in your views about this fic. I’m always happy to receive DMs and asks!

Enjoy!

It is really funny how a crowded, happening place like your college corridor turns into a cold ,eerie location of some prospective gruesome crimes by sun down. But then again , if you really think about it , maybe it’s not much of a ‘prospect’ at all.

Your knuckles start stinging first ,spreading then to your palm and the rest of your arm.

And the horrifying yet unavoidable realization finally dawns on you - you shouldn’t have punched your professor’s daughter.

“Y-you! You bitch! How dare you touch me?” She has this annoyingly loud voice that pierces through the tense air like a bullet. The prettiest girl on campus , the nicest of them all, the most desirable , but anyone who sees her right now, would be convinced she is neither of those things. Excluding you , of course , because you always knew how double faced and rude she was behind the mask of a pure princess.

“You should have kept your mouth shut then, Anya.” You say , hoping that the girl in front of you doesn’t notice the sudden fear in your voice that has replaced your authoritative tone from before.

But you can’t back off now.

Anya stumbles back with her mouth wide open , clutching her jaw as she curses under her breath , “My mother will hear about this ! I will get you expelled !”

“Oh yeah? Try me and the only thing your mother will hear about is what you and our lovely class president John do in the basement when she isn’t home.” You shoot back. You mentally want to slap yourself for that sharp tongue of yours that refuses to stop any time sooner. You had always wished that you’d gotten your father’s gentleness but sadly , you were the fateful heir of your mother’s roughness.

Anya doesn’t reply , instead , she throws herself at you , pushing you harshly against the lockers .And it is not long before her balled fists find a way to your nose , punching so hard that you literally feel the blood dripping down your face. You are so glad that all the students and staff have already gone home , you’d have hated for anyone to witness this.

“You will never lay your filthy hands on me again, y/l/n. ” she wraps her left hand around your throat while the other one pulls your hair with the strength of a bull. You scream in pain. Your body goes limp for a second - not from pain but from fear , but you realise it’s too late now. You should have thought about your fears before punching Anya.

Now all you can do is save yourself and escape.

The numbing pain from your scalp spreads through your head , going down your face and then attacking your throat. It gets harder to breathe.

“I’ll tell you what , Anya , you deserved it. You deserved all of it. ” you croak , “I told you to stop spreading filthy rumours about my cousin but you didn’t stop , I told you to stop bothering me but you didn’t listen. And now you’ve gone as far as spreading bullshit about my boyfriend who you’ve never even met ! I hate to break this to you but all of this is not going to make your trash personality any cooler. ”

Anya yelps with anger , increasing the grip on your throat and hair as you kick your legs helplessly, coughing .

“Shut up, y/l/n .” She growls , “ and as a matter of fact, Your boyfriend is just a mere dancer , how funny. An A-grade college student dating a poor street dancer. What happened , y/n, ran out of good guys for yourself?”

You want to yell at her and tell her that Minho is anything but a mere street dancer . He’s an amazingly talented artist who loves expressing himself through dancing , he’s a hardworking and honest person who is part of the country’s biggest dancing crew , and he’s your safe place , your home , your everything and god save anyone who dare hurt him.

But you bite your tongue this time.

“What now? Afraid ?” Anya raises her eyebrow, her lips curving into an ugly, sadistic smile.

You hate that smile.

You use one of your free hands to grab her hair while the other one slams hard against her jaw.

“Shit.” She mutters , falling back into the hallway.

But you’re not done yet.

You walk toward her with furious eyes and balled fists , and it isn’t long before she lands on the floor on her butt with a bloody nose and a black eye.

“Keep your mouth shut or you’ll end up on a hospital bed next time. In a coma. ” you spit out those words while she holds her tears back, face caked with humiliation.

Then you turn on your heels and walk out of the stupid college campus which would yet again be filled with more bullies by tomorrow morning, just like it has for centuries.

The dorm in which Minho lives almost always smells like freshly baked cookies ( courtesy: Lee Felix) and on rare occasions, it smells like burnt pancakes ( also courtesy: Lee Felix). Today , it smells like the former and you sigh in relief.

“Oh , my god ,y/n. What happened?” Changbin opens the door after you knock thrice , “Minho, dude, Come out , y/n is here!”

You shuffle into their big living room , head hanging low and eyes avoiding all sorts of confrontation , afraid of having to explain your stupid behavior.

“Y/n?” Minho sucks in a deep breath at your sorry sight , his eyes glazed with dread and fear as he walks toward you, ”Oh god, what happened?”

He swiftly takes out a handkerchief from his pockets , pressing it against your bleeding nose. His eyes are glossy with fear.

“I-it’s nothing. I fell down the stairs.” You lie. Can he please shut up and hug you already? You hate his questions so much , especially when you just can’t answer him.

“Y/n , that is not what a fall looks like. I’m not stupid. Whom did you beat up this time?” He asks , crossing his arms across his chest. And you really do almost blurt out the truth because it’s that easy for you to open up to him and because he knows you like no one else does. You’ve dated him long enough for him to know you like the back of his own hand. And that sometimes gets you in so much trouble. Lying to him is a near impossible task.

“Y/n, look at me!” He says , slightly annoyed now. He touches your chin gently, coaxing you to look at him but you’re too afraid to face him right now. Too guilty. So you shrug him off and walk into his shared room with Hyunjin, a homely feeling enveloping you almost instantly.

“Y/n, don’t you dare ignore me.”

Ugh. He can be so nosy at times.

“I came here for comfort , not for an interrogation. ” you pout , plopping down on the bed.

Minho scoffs , closing the door behind him. He wears a loose black t-shirt with a pair of shorts , and he smells like the expensive shampoo you had bought for him a few months ago ,which he initially refused to take but now loves it. He looks so good and smells so good and suddenly all you want to do is cuddle him and talk about his day, with his Winnie The Pooh blanket draped around your bodies.

“You aren’t getting any comfort till you tell me what happened.” He says . He stands with his back against the door , and stares at you as if you were a criminal. Maybe you were one ,but that doesn’t mean he’ll hate you or something ,right?

“Did you hit the professor’s daughter?” He asks when you don’t answer even after two whole minutes. Your stomach does a somersault, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You regret telling him about Anya a few weeks ago and you specifically saying that you’d one day ’ punch her brains out ’. You wish you’d shut up sometimes.

You play with your fingers, staring at your feet. You can’t look him in the eye anymore , not when you did the exact (and only) thing he had asked you not to do. You feel horribly guilty.

“Well in my defense, she was being a bitch ,okay? She was calling you a good for nothing dancer and ugly and underqualified and - ” you sigh , “ My point is, I couldn’t bear listening to all that, okay?” You admit , cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Minho doesn’t answer, very unusual of him by the way, and you snap your head to look at him.

The eyes that had once held concern and fear for your well being now are clouded with disappointment . He’s mad at you.

“She’s not wrong though. I am a good for nothing dancer, I go to a stupid cyber college. Nothing worth fighting over. Why the fuck did you put yourself in danger like that!” And he’s yelling now , his relaxed posture from before now replaced with a tensed one. You notice his clenched fists and teeth ,and you shudder with fear. He is furious. But at what? You don’t really know.

“Are you seriously justifying her actions? Minho, she can’t talk shit about you. I will not let her do that! ” You yell back ,getting up from the bed , “She doesn’t even know you!”

“Which is exactly why her opinions on my lifestyle do not matter ! And you don’t have to just go around acting like my bodyguard all the time!” He says.

Your heart drops, brows furrowed in confusion at his words that feel like a dagger is plunged into your heart.

You walk up to him, trying to take his hand in yours but he extracts it right back. “I’m sorry, okay? I wasn’t thinking. You know how crazy I get when I’m angry.”

“A ’ sorry ’ doesn’t suffice it. The damage is already done. And if tomorrow, you are thrown out of the university, who’s fault would it be? ” he presses his hand to his face, trying to calm himself down , “I can’t believe I am dating such an immature woman ,y /n. Grow the fuck up, will you?” He says , his anger filled eyes staring right into your soul . Your heart breaks into millions of small pieces , as your breath hitches in your throat. He had never said something so harsh to you in the many years that you’ve dated him and you really wish he hadn’t done it today either because you realise you’re not very good at handling hurtful words, especially from Minho. At all.

“Minho , I know you’re angry - ”

“Leave.” The world stops spinning for a second , your eyes widening with shock, “Go home. Don’t come back again.”

You want to cry but tears seemed to have given up on you too , his words striking you harder than any of Anya’s punches ever did. All your feelings seem to have converted into a much worse state of numbness when those words leave his mouth.

“Y-you are not breaking up with me, right?” Your usually loud voice comes out as a whisper.

“I am. Go, please. I don’t want to see you right now.” He opens the room door for you to exit, his eyes never meeting yours. His lower lip is caught between his teeth, a sign that he’s about to tear up yet you don’t know if he wants too be comforted by you right now, or ever. So picking up the remaining pieces of your damaged heart , you walk out of the room , stopping only to glance over at him one last time , in hopes that he’d change his mind. But no, his angry demeanor is still there , strong and tough and unbreakable.

And when you finally leave , Minho is grateful that Hyunjin wasn’t home - for he would have hated to cry in front of his roommate.

The bright neon sign with ’ Kim’s Restaurant ’ written on it shines in the distance , blurred only by the tears in your eyes and not by the tiny droplets of water slowly falling from the sky.

You feel a soft blanket of comfort draping over you when you walk toward the familiar building.

Your aunt and uncle have worked hard to build a proper business from a small shop that had once just sold fried chicken and cold drinks ; and it makes you so happy to see their new restaurant still packed with people this late in the evening.

“Oh , y/n. I was just about to call you. Did you not go to your dorm yet? ” your aunt asks from the reception desk , chewing her favorite gum and typing aggressively into the computer.

“I stayed back today. Project work.” You lie. Your aunt lifts up her head , her eyebrows knitted together and a suspicious scowl gracing her face , almost mimicking your mother. Your mom and your aunt are twin sisters , born just three minutes apart , and since then it has become your mom’s life mission to remind your aunt of the whooping three minute gap every chance she gets. It’s hilarious, really.

“Don’t make that face at me. You look exactly like mom.” You mutter , leaning against the wooden desk.

“I do look exactly like your mom , y/n. ” she replies with a chuckle, “Anyway, what’s going on? You look tired.”

Honestly, you’d love to talk about Minho and the impulsive breakup and the aching in your heart with your aunt because there’s no better person to seek advice from, but you don’t feel it right to burden her when she’s working plus a part of you doesn’t really trust your aunt to keep all the secrets to herself.

“No, I’m okay. Just mid college crisis.” you say.

Your aunt hums in response, probably not buying it but you’re happy she doesn’t push it anymore, “ Are you hungry? Want something to eat?”

A bag of fries with a bucket full of chicken wings sounds terribly tempting right now but you’ve lost all your appetite for the day the moment Minho closed the door behind you. Now all you feel is drained, tired, sad. Moreover, that is not what you were here for, “Nah, I’m good. Is Yugyeom home though?”

The door to your aunt’s house opens only after you ring the stupid bell at least three times , as you stand on the porch, judging the loud music that blasts from within the walls. “Wow , you look like shit.” Yugyeom always has some snarky comments up his sleeve but you are in no mood to be playing word games with him right now. You barge into the house , pushing past your cousin who you smells like donuts and Axe.

“Shut up.” You say, plopping down on his bed . You really want to cry right now but Yugyeom has never been big on consoling so you try to hold it in .

“What’s wrong? I’m not joking.” He sits beside you, putting down his gaming console on the table by the bed.

You play with your fingers , breathing in and out to calm your nerves. Yugyeom, out of all the people in the world , is the easiest to talk to but today , you find yourself on the edge , trying to be very careful with your choice of words. Maybe you were afraid of angering him as well.

“I..I kind of beat Anya up.” You confess ,swallowing the lump in your throat.

Yugyeom becomes still for a moment , staring at you with his mouth gaping and then his face breaks into the widest grin in the world.

“You really beat that bitch up? Like for real?” He asks , excitedly bro fisting the air like an athlete after winning an important match.

You nod , “And then I went to see Minho. He obviously didn’t react the way you did. He was very angry and then he broke up with me. ”

Yugyeom’s celebrations are short lived as you continue to tell him the details of what had happened earlier, his smile slowly dissolving into a frown.

“Y/n, first of all you really need to learn how to break news to other people. It’s always the bad one first and then the good one. Noob.” Yugyeom bumps his shoulder softly to yours. You would otherwise have argued with him and told him why the happy news should always be first and why the bad news should be last but you feel too exhausted to speak anymore. Your shoulders slump as you put your hands on either side of your head.

“How could he just break up with me like that? He had no logical reason to! He’s so selfish.” You mutter , tears gathering up in your eyes. You try to blink them away before your cousin notices them.

“I don’t think he did it for himself , y/n. You told him that you hit Anya because she was speaking trash about him. Of course he’d distance himself from you so you wouldn’t want to fight his fights for him.” Yugyeom says.

“I wasn’t fighting his fights! She trash talks about you and me and him and everyone else. It was the last straw for me. I didn’t do anything wrong. ” you explain , your heart hammering against your chest.

“I didn’t say what you did was wrong ,y/n. You have a right to be angry with her. But what we’re talking about is Minho. Think about this from his point of view,” Yugyeom replies, his hands on your shoulders , “You beat Anya up , got hurt and possibly put yourself in trouble with her mother all because of him. He feels guilty.” Yugyeom is speaking to you like he’s speaking in one of those debates that he does at college. You love seeing him speak, mostly because he is so manipulative yet subtle , smart yet observant and he can convince you so easily. He could easily pass as the best debater in your college - too bad you’d already taken that place.

“Or it could be because he doesn’t want more trouble in his account. Maybe he’s ashamed of me. ” you whisper, “ And I told you, I didn’t do it just for him. I did it for me and you too and all those people she bullies and makes fun of. Why is he the only one reacting like this? ”

Yugyeom sighs, “Yes , I appreciate your concern for my well being, y/n. But he might not be thinking the same way as I am. I was happy that you beat Anya up , but he was worried about you. He obviously doesn’t want you to get badly hurt.”

You rub the tears that flow down your face with the heel of your hand then place your head on Yugyeom ’s shoulder.

“He might have fallen out of love with me. Maybe he just needed an excuse to call it off.” You mutter.

“You know Minho’s better than that, y/n.”

He’s right . Minho really is better than that.

Break ups suck. In the truest sense. But what you now realize is that break ups don’t hurt that much immediately, but slowly , as the days go by and the memories start flashing in front of your eyes every waking moment , you feel like nothing more than a sack of meat and bones, drained of all emotions.

“For this unit of organic chemistry, I need all of you to memorise the reaction mechanisms over the weekend.” Your professor’s voice feels distant to you , as if there were a wall in between the two of you , even though he stands just a few steps away.

Your classmates start murmuring among themselves, fixing study dates that almost always are unsuccessful and gathering notes they hadn’t bothered to complete until now. But you remain seated in your chair , staring out the window, not bothering to talk to anyone.

It is a bright sunny afternoon and you see all the happy faces out on the field - couples, friends , classmates. You feel jealous. You clearly remember planning a weekend trip with Minho a few days ago and If you hadn’t decided to mess things up so bad, he’d have already been at your college gate by now , waiting in his father’s old car. You clearly remember how excited he was about the trip.

The dismissal bell rings not long after and as you walk out of the college gate, surrounded by thousands of students, you feel lonelier as ever. And your mind imagines his car below the tall banyan tree , his lean frame leaning against the door with a silly grin. You could almost see him there. Even though its just in your mind.

You miss him so much that it gets hard for you to even breathe properly.

“Okay , how long are we going to stay here? I have better things to do than stalk your girlfriend, Lee.” Changbin’s whiny voice breaks the silence in Minho’s car, much to his annoyance.

“Just a few more minutes. Till she reaches the dorm.” Minho replies , his hand limp on the steering wheel and his lips pressed in a tense line.

His eyes are focused on you , your slump shoulders and your unusually slow walk and the dark circles under your eyes. It is obvious that Minho wasn’t the only one having sleepless nights .

“Dude , why don’t you just talk to her? I’m sure she would listen.” Hyunjin says from the backseat , munching on peanuts, “ Plus I think she saw us.”

Minho watches as you turn around a corner and walk toward your dorm building , away from him. He almost wishes you’d seen him.

“It’s not that easy.” Minho mutters, turning the engine on.

At least he knows you’re okay, and safe. That’s enough reassurance for him to try and move on but he somehow always ends up driving to your college gates during dismissal, the brief view of your face still making the worst of his days better.

“It’s not that easy.” He repeats to reassure himself .

“Guess what.” Yugyeom chimes in early one morning, leaning against the locker door beside yours.

“What?” You ask , not sparing him a glance. Your hands busy themselves in flipping over the pages of your notebook ; last minute revisions before tests are more important than the actual studying.

“I saw Anya this morning. She was running late , I think, and she bumped into a junior near the gate. I was sure all hell was about to break loose but she just apologized and left!” Yugyeom says , laughing.

You turn to look at him, a look of surprise plastered on your face. Anya actually did that? Instead of being her usual, defensive, violent self she actually chose to apologize? It’s hard to digest but you’re sure Yugyeom wouldn’t be making all that up. He’s not that creative.

“The sun must have risen from West today.” You reply with a chuckle.

The morning bell rings throughout the corridor, indicating the commencement of your classes. Throwing in your notebook ,you close your locker and heave a sigh. Its just a small quiz but you find yourself stressing over every single thing these days.

“Oh and by the way , it’s Jackson Wang’s birthday party tomorrow.” Yugyeom adds as the two of you start making your way towards the chemistry lab , coats hanging by your arms.

“And we’re going?” You question ,cocking your eyebrow.

Yugyeom is not really into parties , especially the over-the-top , spectacular , rich-kid parties that Jackson Wang often finds himself throwing, yet Yugyeom always goes because a) Jackson is his best friend and b) Who doesn’t like to feel like a rich man even if it’s just for one night?

“Yes. Both of us.” He says. You shrug your shoulders. You have always liked going to Jackson ’s parties and fawning over his huge mansion and the various cuisines placed in front of you that you can’t even name properly and watching other rich kids like himself play golf in the living room. It was pretty entertaining . Even with your post break up gloominess, you wouldn’t want to miss all of that.

“Okay.”

“And one more thing,” he starts ,“I saw Lee Minho outside our college gate yesterday. You might want to do something about that.”

No, unlike what was expected of you, you didn’t really do anything about it but Yugyeom’s words stick to you like a piece of gum throughout the whole day ,consuming every thought and pulling out all those thoughts that you’d stacked up and thrown away into the top most drawers of your mind. You were convinced that the day he broke up with you , he was done. He didn’t want to look back or reconsider. He wasn’t coming back to you. And you’ve been trying to move on as best as you could ,keeping your mind occupied and busy all the time. Yet you had to accept that in the wee hours of the night , staring at the ceiling ,you would often find yourself reminiscing him and whatever you two had. The gentle touches , the late night walks, shy smiles and endless talks ; you missed them.

But his presence outside the college changes the whole game, doesn’t it?

Later that day, you kind of regret agreeing to go to Jackson’s party because you soon realised that both Minho and Jackson went to the same dancing school at one point of time , and Minho probably (like a 99.9% probability because Jackson Wang never leaves anyone uninvited) was invited too.

You dread every second in Yugyeom’s stupid car that brings you one more step closer to seeing Lee Minho again. And although you would never dare say it out loud , a part of you was a little excited too.

“Dude , y/n , I have never felt so underdressed in my entire life.” Yugyeom breathes in as the car stops in front of the huge metal gates of Jackson’s mansion.

“Me neither.” You agree, your eyes glued to the people walking in and out of the doors, wearing tuxedos and dresses and sparkly jewelry. You feel horribly out of place all of a sudden, like a fish flying in the sky and a bird swimming deep under the water- you feel like you don’t belong here.

You look down at your black converse , tightly laced and washed for this very party and your loose ,dark green tshirt and ripped jeans .

“Why didn’t you tell me this was a fucking masquerade ball or soemthing?"you hiss at your cousin.

"Shut up, y/n , you’re not the only one feeling odd. ” Yugyeom shoots back

But all of that discomfort is gone the moment you see Jackson Wang sitting on the huge sofa in the living room , wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and a white tank top , drunk and wasted and blabbering.

“Let’s go before he sees us.” Yugyeom says , pushing you through the crowds of people clad in silks and pure cotton , “Drunk Jackson is difficult to handle.”

“Oh , I beg to differ , All Jacksons are difficult to handle.”

The garden behind the mansion is filled with even more people than your brain was accustomed to seeing while the DJ stands at the top of a platform , headphones on and screaming into the mic every once in a while to hype up the crowd in front of him , but you realise it’s hardly needed. People are already way too hyped up in here.

“Y/n?” You hear a voice say and you immediately turn around to face Hwang Hyunjin standing under the wonderful night sky, looking as gorgeous as ever. But then again ,when does he not look pretty?

“Hey, Hyunjin. How have you been?” You ask with a smile. Your awkward hand movements do not go unnoticed by him but he thankfully doesn’t comment on it.

“I’ve been good. How have you been ?” He replies , inching closer to you. From the corner of your eye, you see Yugyeom slowing disappearing into the crowds, leaving you all alone to deal with your ex boyfriend’s best friend. You make a mental note to never lend your Netflix account to him again.

“I’m okay, too.” You say.

Hyunjin nods, his eyes staring at you curiously, “Tell me , y/n , how have you really been? I know what happened between you and Minho.”

You gulp , heat creeping up to your cheeks.

“I’m fine, really. Don’t worry about it.” You say, biting the inside of your cheeks nervously.

“If you say so.” he grins , putting an arm around you , “But I’ll be real honest with you , Minho - ”

The words are cut off when the DJ suddenly blasts a new song through the speakers , simultaneously yelling into the mic. The sweaty, wasted , hopeless crowd around you yell a few ’ Let’s GO! ’s and ’ Fuck It Up ’s in response.

“What were you saying?” You yell over the music , pinching Hyunjin’s t-shirt to get his attention. He glances at back you then points toward his left , “That.”

You turn your head in that direction , your heart skipping a beat the moment your eyes meet Minho’s nervous ones. You see him walk towards you in long strides ,his handsome features painted with anxiousness and worry and a foreign sense of guilt. You were angry at him ,yes ,but as he makes his way to you , his silky hair bouncing softly ,his pink lips slightly parted, his starry eyes locked on you ,he looks…Brilliant? Breathtaking? Gorgeous? Stunning? All of these?

He wears a blue tshirt with black pants and has a jacket tied around his waist. He looks beautiful- even though you are mad at him. He looks way too beautiful to not acknowledge it.

And just a few seconds before he reaches you , you break away from Hyunjin’s hold and run away into the crowd.

“Y/n, wait!” You hear the both of them yell at the same time. But only one of them follows behind you and you don’t even have to look back to know who it is.

Fear and anger creep into your body , slow but painful like poison. You remember the last few days and how horrible it had been for you , all because of Minho and his lack of understanding in a moment when it was needed the most. Over the past few weeks, your ex boyfriend had made no attempts to contact you whatsoever and if he thinks he could just pop out of nowhere and start talking to you again, then he’s gravely mistaken. You might still love him and want nothing more than to hold him close , but that doesn’t mean you aren’t angry anymore . You are not ready to face him. At all.

Your feet burn as you run further away from Minho, jogging up the stairs inside the mansion with your hand tightly gripping the cold metal railing.

“Y/n, please, just listen to me once.” He yells, still not giving up.

You scoff , “Why should I? You didn’t listen to me that day either!”

You find a door at the end of the staircase, your hands pushing it to reach the empty terrace that you’d heard Jackson bragging about during your English classes when everyone was too bored to listen to the professor. The terrace really was beautiful, with all kinds of flowers blooming and a fountain with lights , you would have almost been breath taken if not for the man closing up behind you.

“Y/n, damnit, ” Minho huffs, reaching his hand out toward you, panting, “Stop, okay? Just listen to me , please.”

Not like you have an option anyway. You sigh in defeat , walking toward the fountain, the carpet grass rustling under your feet. “What?” You demand, your voice bitter with anger.

Minho stands in front of you , his brown unkempt hair and firey eyes reminding you of the night you guys had kissed for the first time. He stands at an arm’s distance, giving you enough space to think things through. He would never want to force you to do something you wouldn’t want to. And even if everything turned out to be not in his favor tonight, he’d gladly accept it because he deserved it after treating you so badly.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers after a few seconds.

You roll your eyes, “For what? What did you do? As far as I know, THE Lee Minho never makes mistakes!”

He hangs his head low with shame ; he didn’t mean a single word he’d said that night. He was worried, yes, he was very worried about your bashful attitude but he was also very grateful to you for always having his back. It physically hurt him to see you bleeding and completely worn out that day.

“Well, I did make a mistake this time. I said some words that I didn’t mean at all and I’m afraid the girl I intended those words at hates me.” He says , pressing his lips in a line.

“Damn right , she does.” You can’t even look into his eyes anymore because you’re too afraid of laying your true feelings bare in front of him.

“I’m really, really sorry, baby. I know I’m an asshole and I hurt you. I have no excuses to offer but I just want you to know that a single second more away from you will drive me crazy. ”

You process his sentences slowly - letter by letter, inking those words permanently into your memories. “Why?” You ask. What a silly question ,y/n, do you really want to torment this man so much ?

Minho gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement, “Because you’re quite literally my everything.”

Minho only dares to grin a little when you no longer throw virtual daggers from your eyes at him. “I hate you , you know?” You say.

“I know ,y/n. I don’t even blame you. I shouldn’t have said all that. I was just so, so mad. But that really wasn’t an excuse to be so rude to you or break up. I should have talked it out instead . I deserve the hate.” He admits.

The frown on your lips dissipates slowly ,making way for a sad, small smile.

“It was so hard, Minho. You don’t even know. I had never felt so lonely in my entire life.” You say.

“Believe me, y/n, I know.” He whispers as your hands find their way to his cheeks, rubbing them ever so gently.

You scan his face, absorbing in the fact that he was actually in front of you and this wasn’t one of your unrealistic imaginations.

Minho takes not more than a half step towards you and you automatically wrap your arms around his neck , like the millions of times you’d already done before. Everything about him is so familiar yet so new. Like layers and layers to discover and only one goddamn lifetime.

He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck , mumbling soft apologies against your skin, his arms tightening around your waist with every passing second.

“I missed you so much.” You admit, playing with his beautiful brown locks, taking in the smell of his (your) favorite body wash.

“I missed you too.” He replies , “So goddamn much. I almost wanted to cuddle Hwang Hyunjin at night.”

You laugh ,as he admires the way your noes scrunches up when you giggle and the way your eyes bend into crescent moons. In that moment, Minho realises how much he loves seeing you laugh ,especially when he’s the reason behind it. It fills him up with so much pride.

You hear the DJ change the song into a slow , romantic one as his voice booms through the speakers once again , “Ladies and gentlemen, grab the person next to you, with consent of course, and hold them close for this one because tonight is all about dancing with strangers!”

The crowd goes feral.

Minho raises an eyebrow at the DJ’s words , a sly smile playing on his lips , “Shall we?”

He pulls away from the embrace, gently bowing toward you and offering you his hand like some gentleman right out of a fairytale.

“He said dancing with a stranger, not girlfriend.” You deadpan but you take his hand anyway.

He chuckles, leaning closer to rest his forehead on yours, “Technically, we’re still broken up. That makes us strangers.”

You have to give in - not because of his weird reasoning but because of how terribly cute he looks when he smiles like that at you. He holds you close, swaying slowly to the music and grinning like there’s no tomorrow.

“What’s so funny, Lee Minho?” You ask , raising your eyebrow.

He shakes his head, still grinning, “I just realised how rare it is to find a woman who would quite literally declare war for you.”

“Now, you’re exaggerating a little bit with the war thing but yes, that’s the essence of it.” You reply with a proud smile.

He laughs, as you put your hand on his cheek once again and press your lips softly to his. You’d missed this so much - not just kissing him but also this feeling of intimacy you share with him everytime you’re in a closed space, sharing the same air. You missed his teasing, his stupidly sweet laughter, the warmth of his embrace. You missed Lee Minho - your safe place, your best friend, your world.

And even after everything, you both know for sure that you would fight the world for Minho if need be, and he’d do the exact same thing for you. Every single time.

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wowweeharrystyles · 5 years ago

Text

Part 2 | Opening Night & The First Note| 7k words

‘Sequins & Zippers’ Summary: An internship with Harry Lambert transformed into a job of a lifetime - Aurora Del Gatto finds herself touring the world with the one & only Harry Styles as his ‘Head of Wardrobe.’ Aurora is nothing but nerves & excitement as she packs her bags & almost 100 custom designer suits that belong to an unbelievably kind rockstar. She never thought she’d fall in love on top of it all.

warnings: mentions of anxiety.

Read Part 1 Here

Masterlist

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St. Jakobshalle is busy when Aurora arrives at the arena that afternoon. Crew members she met in London were buzzing around doing just about exactly what they were doing there, but now in Switzerland. It’s a bit trippy for Aurora because though she may be in a completely different city, in a completely different country, the arena looks and feels almost the exact same. She has to remind herself several times that she’s in Switzerland and that today really is the 1st night of the tour. Everyone is called for at the stage at 2pm. Harry makes a small speech again and thanks everyone for their hard work. Boxes of reusable water bottles, branded with “Treat People With Kindness” are passed around as well and they match the sweatshirts a lot of people are sporting today. They take a group photo in the elevated seating closest to the stage and there’s a chorus of cheers when Jeff tells everyone to go back to work and that there’s 5 hours till curtain. They haven’t even completed the first show of the tour but the atmosphere and energy between everyone already feels like a family of sorts. When Aurora catches a glimpse of Harry as she heads to the dressing rooms she can’t help but feel overly endeared by the bright smile on his face and crinkles at his eyes.

Aurora heads to the band’s dressing room to set up their clothing for the night. She’s steaming Adam’s suit when Sarah walks in.

“Aurora!” She exclaims walking over to her and hugging her after she’s set the steamer aside. “Flight alright?” She asks after pulling away and sitting down on the couch.

“Absolutely! I slept the entire time,” she goes back to steaming while talking to Sarah. “and what about you?”

“Too excited to sleep,” she chuckles. “Flight was still good though.”

Sarah stays with Aurora while she steams the all of the pieces for the band. Aurora really likes

Sarah and her calm energy is nice in the excited and busy arena.

“So who have you toured with before?” Sarah asked as the 2 of them find their way around the arena in search of some snacks before Sarah has to get to sound check and Aurora has to prep Harry’s suit.

“Oh,” Aurora is surprised by the question, “I’ve never done this before. I-I graduated college last May.”

“You’re joking right? I mean, you were in New York with Lambert for the album release, yeah?” Aurora nods. “So you had to have a good recommendation or experience before that to be thrown into the hustle and bustle that comes along with working with Harry.” Aurora chuckles as they round the corner and walk into the room where Craft Services is. They both start to fill a plate and Aurora fills up a coffee cup as well. For Aurora, coffee is the answer to everything.

“No seriously, Sarah. Keep this on the DL but I legit have no idea what I’m doing most of the time.” Sarah laughs along with Aurora. “I met Lambert while I was studying abroad in London. Got my internship with him from there. And now magically I’m here.”

“Maybe a little magic involved, but you’re talented, Aurora. You know what you’re doing and from where I’m standing you look like a seasoned veteran on this crew.”

The jet lag is without a doubt kicking Aurora’s ass already and it was only day 1 of the tour. She made a mental note to google some ways to beat it. Aurora treks her way to a dressing room that’s labeled ‘Creative Crew’ - a room just for her, Ayae, Helene and a few others she barely has met. She set her bag in there when she first arrived that morning and remembered a couch that sounded like the best thing ever to her right now. She finds the dressing room empty and she’s thankful for it. Plopping down on the couch, she dozes off immediately.

15 minutes later her alarm goes off. She knows herself too well and always, always, always sets an alarm for a nap because she will sleep for hours on hours otherwise. She slides her shoes back on and grabs Harry’s wardrobe notebook from her bag and makes her way to Harry’s dressing room to get his suit set for the show. She’s steaming Harry’s black button down when she lets out a yawn, desperate for another coffee. She thinks the nap might have done more damage than good.

Ayae joins her in Harry’s dressing room only a few minutes later to start setting up her things to refresh Harry’s hair and what not. Ayae and Aurora talk through their excitement for the show that night, Aurora realising that she gets to witness the show every night. She had always loved concerts, Broadway shows, plays her friends were in during college, anything. She tells Ayae how she’s never seen a performance she truly didn’t like. Their conversation is cut off when Harry walks through the door right after the 15min call for the opener went over the intercoms.

“Right on schedule, as always,” Ayae remarks to Harry, who has a fresh t shirt and shorts on, and his curls hang in wet heavy ringlets. “Soundcheck go alright?” She asks.

“Mhm,” he hums making his way fully into the dressing room. “And I even brought coffee for the both of you.” He hands Ayae hers before turning towards Aurora. “Heard you snuck in a nap earlier…” he comments after Aurora takes a sip.

“How did you-?” Her jaw drops slightly before she starts to question him.

“I have people, Ror,” he chuckles before sitting down in the chair set up in front of Ayae’s products and the large vanity mirror. “Don’t give me that look... just drink your coffee, love.” He’s making eye contact with her through the mirror and Ayae is quietly giggling at the 2 of them.

Aurora busies herself with the steamer and doing some finishing touches on Harry’s pants, and of course drinks her coffee. She grabs the new pair of his Gucci boots and takes them out of the box.

“You need socks for these boots or are the ones you’re wearing okay?” She asks while setting the boots near the couch that’s adorn in Harry’s own Gucci throw pillows.

“I’ve just got Nike socks on right now, do you have any actual trouser socks?”

“Yup! That’s all I’ve got, actually.”

A few minutes later she’s handing him his trousers off the hanger for him to change into. Just like a few days ago in London, he drops his shorts revealing his black Calvin Klein boxer briefs before Aurora can turn around again. She lets out a small “oope” as she turns. It’s not until now that she realises her and Harry are the only 2 left in the room.

“Are you blushing, Ror?” Harry’s voice is soft but Aurora heard it loud and clear. She chooses to ignore it and picks up the coffee he brought her and lets out a hum. The coffee in her hands keeps them busy and still as she turns back around to him. He’s buttoning his trousers now and slipping off his tshirt. “Hmm?” He gives her a questioning look.

“What?” she asks now giving him his shirt, coffee still in one hand. His eyes meet hers and the eye contact starts a buzzing feeling in her finger tips. The green in his eyes are lighter than she’s seen before the gaze is so intense that she can’t look away.

“Nothing,” he breaks eye contact with a chuckle and takes his shirt from her. Aurora whispers a soft ‘alright.’ Once he buttons up the shirt he turns towards the full length mirror that’s attached to the inside of the open wardrobe case. He’s fumbling with the long pieces of fabric that almost touch the floor. There’s a slight furrow in his brows as he attempts to tie the fabric into a bow. “Aurora, could ya help me out?” he asks while still fumbling with it. “Pesky, little, fu-”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she says with a smile and motioning with her hands for him to turn towards her again. She ties it on the 1st try and is pleased with the look of it. “There,” she steps back slightly and then tilts her head at him. “Ohhh actually looks a bit tight,” she steps closer to him again and is slips her pointer finger between the collar and his neck trying to move it a little bit, “yup, that definitely won’t do.” She notices the goosebumps that arise on his neck and quickly removes her hand. She unties the bow to start over.

“Are ya gonna watch the show?” Harry asks quietly while Aurora continues to tie the bow on the collar of his shirt.

“Yeah I’m hoping to get a glimpse of it from the side of the stage.” She’s untied and re-tied this bow several times now.

“Know ya can watch it from the audience with this little thing, yeah?” Harry gently tugs on the tour pass with her name and face on it that’s hooked around her belt loop. “That cute little picture’ll get you anywhere in the arena.” Aurora is too frustrated with the bow around Harry’s neck to react to his comment.

“Oh, didn’t know I could go out there,” Aurora lets out a huff dropping her hands to her side. The fabric that should be tied in a bow lays long against Harry’s torso. “Well at this rate, I won’t have to go out in the audience cause you won’t even be onstage ‘cause this bow just isn’t cooperating.” There’s a flash and click sound that startles both of them. They snap their heads to the door.

“Sorry,” Helene squeaks out with her french accent. “Quite liked the look of the 2 of you there.”

“Oh, hi Helene!” Aurora says reaching up to harry’s collar again. She loops the fabric one last time and gets the bow just right. “There we go!” she exclaims, dropping her hands to her side in relief.

“Harry, I’d love to get some photos of you with your band before you hit the stage. If that’s alright with you, of course.”

“Yeah, I’d like that too!” Harry smiles at Helene. “Just gotta finish up here with Ror and brush my teeth, then I’m all yours.”

“Perfect! I’ll meet ya in a 15 then?” Harry nods a ‘yes’ to Helene before she walks out. He turns around to look at the finished bow in the mirror. “Looks perfect.”

Aurora slides the black sequined jacket from the hanger. “Here,” she holds the jacket by the top of the lapels ready for him to slide his arms into it. Harry shrugs into the jacket and Aurora helps him situate it properly on his shoulders. “Turn around for me?” Harry is silent as he turns around. Aurora is hyper aware of his silence now while she makes sure the lapels on the jacket are laying flat and his shirt collar is sitting perfectly under the jacket. She notices his change in demeanor and the familiarity of it. “I would keep it buttoned for as long as you can on stage to really show off the look, but definitely unbutton it when you’re dancing around.” She buttons the jacket closed for him. “Don’t want you ripping anything while on stage. Or a button flying and hitting someone in the eye…” she jokes. He doesn’t laugh with her which causes her to look up at him. “Harry, you alright?” He shakes his head pulling himself out of his distracted silence.

“Uh yeah, sorry. Got it. Keep it buttoned, un button it when I’m dancing. No injuring anyone.” The words come out of his mouth much faster than normal.

“I know what nerves look like, Harry. No need to hide it from me.” His face has softened but he goes silent again. “I used to get so nervous before dancing on stage. I would come off stage and my tongue felt numb from the adrenaline and nerves and 9 times out of 10 I couldn’t remember what I had just done.” She hands him his new socks and boots. He’s looking at her with a softness in his eyes that neither of them could truly describe.

“You’re a dancer?” She sighs at his response, finally loosening up again.

“Used to be, yeah.” She explains how she used to compete and how her mom always made her dance costumes and that’s how she ended up studying fashion design. The story distracts Harry from his nerves while he puts his boots on. He smooths out his pants and looks towards Aurora.

“Thanks, Ror,” his hand is at her hip and pulling her in for a hug. He’s holding on to her tightly for a long moment and she relaxes into his arms. When he pulls away he speaks up again, “for helping me get ready and ya know, just being around, I guess.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” She smiles at him and then checks her watch. “You should probably get going, Helene and your band are waiting for you.”

“Yeah, of course.” He’s smiling at her again, gives her a quick kiss on the cheek and grabs his small black toiletry bag and heads to the bathroom.

“Good luck, Harry!” she shouts at him while leaving his dressing room.

After the show, Aurora meets Harry back in his dressing room to gather his suit and pack everything back up.

“Well looks like your bow didn’t make it through the show.” It’s the first thing he says as he walks in the room. He tosses an empty water bottle into the bin by the couch. Aurora pouts remembering how frustrated she was and then shakes her head at Harry.

“It’s your crazy dance moves’ fault not mine. That bow was perfect and you can’t deny that.”

“So ya saw the show?” There’s a spark in his eyes and Aurora writes it off as post stage adrenaline.

“Course I did,” she smiles back at him. “I’ve got your clothes here from earlier, didn’t know if you wanted to throw those on after the show or not.” He’s racking a hand through his sweaty, messy hair before he takes his jacket off and hands it to Aurora.

“Uhm,” he’s thinking about what the plans are for the night. “My suitcase is still here yeah?” She nods. “I’ll change into something from there then.” He’s rifling through his case now. “Did ya like the show then?”

“Harry, it was incredible,” she exclaims while taking each piece of clothing from him as he takes them off.

“Sorry everythings a bit sweaty,” he giggles as he hands her his trousers last.

“I’ve dealt with worse.” She hangs everything up individually so they can air out before they’re put away. “But seriously, the show was so so good. I loved the new songs you added to your setlist!”

Harry has made his way towards the bathroom that is attached to the dressing room with a set of clean clothes in his hand. “Thanks, love.” his smile is so big that his dimples are making a show and his eyes go all crinkly. He’s lingering in the bathroom door way.

“I’ll come back later to put everything away,” she says as she grabs a few of her things she had in his room from earlier. “Again, amazing show, Harry. Excited to be here. Have a good night.” and with that she gives a small wave at him and leaves him be.

Aurora quite likes life on tour. In less than 4 days she’s been to Switzerland, spent a full day being a tourist in Paris and this morning she woke up in Amsterdam. She quite likes seeing Harry every day as well. There’s only been 3 shows so far but the time her and Harry have together before and after the shows goes by much faster than she would like and unknown to her, Harry is feeling exactly the same.

When she arrives at the Ziggo Dome in Amsterdam later that morning she drops her stuff in the green room. She’s searching for Helene when she runs into Jeff.

“Aurora! Just the person I was looking for,” he says as he stops her. “This is for you,” he pulls a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and hands it to her. He gives her a smirk before rushing off to take care of something that had just came over his headset before she can ask any questions or thank him.

She carefully unfolds the paper and scribbled in half cursive half all caps printed handwriting is just a few words. meet me by bstage at 12:15. I’ll bring coffee. Harry’s name is signed at the bottom. Then, (only if you want of course.) is scribbled under his name. Her jaw drops before she’s giggling at his inherent kindness. She checks her watch, 11:58. Suddenly she can feel her heartbeat in her throat and the tops of her ears are flushed. She jumps when her phone rings from her pocket.

“Hi mom!” Aurora starts walking around the arena a little distracted by her mom on the phone and the letter that is folded up in her hands. “Mom, can I actually call you in a little bit? I’ve gotta.. uhh... I’ve got a lot to do to prep today and wanna get ahead of it before it gets crazy.” Aurora stops to the side of the hallway and slides the paper in her pocket, noticing the shoes she put on this morning. “Great. Love you most! Talk to you soon.” The sneakers. She finally decided to wear the Gucci sneakers. She sighs, a small smile creeping up on her face.

The inside of the arena is set up for the concert already and there’s a dim glow through the whole space. She can see Harry sitting on the edge of the bstage, legs swinging slightly and his hands clasped together in his lap. When the door closes behind Aurora it echoes and Harry’s head whips to her. From all the way across the arena, she can make out the huge, dopey grin on his face. It’s one that elicits a dimple on his cheek and makes her ears flush again. She shoves her hands into the pockets of the jean jacket she’s got on, smiling back at him. When she’s closer Harry pushes himself off the stage.

“Ror! Hi!” He looks like sunshine she thinks. Is it the yellow shirt he’s wearing? Is it the sparkle in his eye even though the arena is fairly dark? Is it that damn dimple or the crinkles around his eyes? Or is it- Her thoughts are cut off when he pulls her into a hug. Both of his arms are strong around her torso and she can tell he’s bent down a little because she is easily wrapping her own arms around his shoulders, hands finding a home near his neck. Harry has a bit of stubble on his face and she can feel as he nuzzles his head against her cheek before pressing a kiss there. “Happy you came,” he whispers against her neck. Aurora lets out a hum as he squeezes his arms around her just a little tighter, “so happy.”

“Hi Harry,” she whispers back fighting the grin that inevitably appears. She buries her face into the crook of his neck. It seems that their hugs get closer and closer every time. A different wall of boundaries and insecurities breaking down between the two of them each time. He’s warm just like sunshine. Neither of them know who broke the hug but they slowly pull apart and Aurora’s cheeks flush as Harry’s bright green eyes locked with hers.

They make small talk about their mornings and their flights from the night before. Aurora’s following close to Harry’s side as he walks around the arena, sipping her coffee that he promised her. He’s got tea in his cup. He reaches his free hand out to her when they reach steps that reach the farthest seats in the arena. She places her hand in his, slowly and he quickly grips her hand, pulling her along the steps behind him.

“Harry, where are we going?” He laughs in response. “What’re we doing?” She’s laughing with him now.

“Trust me, yeah?”

“Harry, I barely know you…” she trails off, a hint of joke in her voice.

“But you still trust me, yeah?” he questions again. She doesn’t need to think before nodding at him with a small smile. He’s taking her all the way up the stairs and then through a door at the top of the arena. “I’ve watched a lot of Criminal Minds, Harry, I know how this ends!” she jokes at him. His laugh echoes through the hall they’re walking through now and she can’t help but let her smile grow. They go through one more door and Harry let’s go of her hand, the door closing behind them. In front of Aurora is a huge window that looks out over Amsterdam.

“I remember finding this room back when I was touring with the boys.”

“Was that when you wore the orange jumpsuits?” Aurora asks with a laugh before she realises what she might have revealed. Harry looks at her with a smirk.

“Ror… don’t tell me… you were a-” There’s a short moment of silence

“Ugg yessss. Yes, I was a fan,” she blurts out. She’s rolling her eyes at herself for getting into this situation. “Makes you question bringing me up here, huh?” she jokes hoping he isn’t thinking about his invite twice.

Before she knows it, he’s throwing an arm around her shoulder with a loud laugh. “I had a feeling.” Her shoulders drop, not having realised she tensed up at all.

“My mom found my old posters and said I should bring them with me for you to sign.” She smiles up at him.

“and did you?”

“Though it might be weird if I were to bring a poster of Niall Horan on the Harry Styles World Tour,” she says with a straight face. Harry huffs and is silent for a moment.

“Wait… are you serious?”

“Dead serious.” Harry’s face changes. Is he jealous? She raises onto her tippy toes and presses a kiss to his cheek, well it’s more his jaw than his cheek. She doesn’t know what’s come over her. She’s rarely this bold, but the look on his face has turned her brain to mush she thinks. His face relaxes eventually. There’s a bit of silence between them before she speaks up again. “Why’d you bring me up here, Harry?” she asks finally.

His arm that was wrapped around her shoulder finds its way to her waist. “Gets a bit lonely sometimes,” his fingertips dig slightly into her waist. A wash of warmth and shivers simultaneously cover her. Lonely. “It’s nice to share stuff sometimes,” he trails off, “just not with the whole world.”

“I wish I could say that I get it and I’m sure you hear that all the time,” she lets the feeling of his hand at her waist pull her closer to his side, “but I’m happy to be here with you.” Aurora pulls her hands out of the pockets in her jacket. She mirrors his previous actions and lightly slides her arm around his waist. He digs his fingertips into her waist again and she can feel a breath leave his body, heavier than a sigh but barely audible. It isn’t till then that she realises how close their torsos are slotted together. She can feel every little movement from him and she’s suddenly aware of how she can feel the heat of his skin through the tshirt that’s draped perfectly over his body. Every square inch of her body that is in contact with his feels tingly and warm. She thinks if she were to pull away from him there would be red light where she was in contact with him. She does the exact opposite of pulling away from him. She turns her whole body towards him falling into his torso even more. She isn’t sure if it’s because she’s a little homesick or that her anxiety is making it hard to settle into the tour life, but something about Harry feels familiar and comfortable. “Hey, Harry,” she says quietly receiving a hum in response as he turns his head towards her, “uhm, I’m having a really great time on tour,” she decides to say. How do I tell him that something about this feels right? Familiar? That I’m feeling a bit homesick and he’s somehow managed to wipe it away for the time being? She can see a smile start at his lips out of the corner of her eye. “Honestly, can’t believe this is my job,” she adds.

His tongue clicks on his teeth, “You’re just saying that cause you’re here with me.” It comes out with a bit of a whine in his voice.

“Nuh uh.” She shakes her head slightly before meeting his eyes.

“Well,” he pauses, not breaking eye contact, “I’m having a good time too.” He’s smiling at her and somehow pulls her into him even closer.

“Your shows say it all. Always look like you’re having the time of your life up there.” She’s smiling back at him, flashes of him performing appear behind her eyelids as she blinks.

“The shows are always great, best part of my job.” His smile grows and it’s toothy and his dimples are visible again. “But I’m having a good time,” he pauses, “right now.”

They stay silent for a little and look out at the view in front of them. Harry points out a few of things on the Amsterdam skyline, making corny jokes and a few puns as he continues on about tulips and windmills. He looks down at her again and uses the arm around her torso to turn her to face him completely, his hands clasping together at her lower back. Her hands landing flat on his chest without thinking.

“Nice sneakers,” he smirks down at her. She presses her lips together, fighting a smile or a laugh, she’s not really sure. She looks up at him through her eyelashes.

“Thanks, can’t remember where they’re from.” His hands shift at her back and he’s pulling her closer. He leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead, then her cheek.

“Damn,” he furrows his brows at the wall behind her. “I should really be getting back, I’ve got soundcheck… well I should’ve been at sound check 5 minutes ago.” She turns around to look at the clock breaking away from his hold.

“We’ve been up her for almost 2 hours?” They both lock eyes before they’re laughing with each other.

They go back a different way and end up at the back of the stage when they re-enter the arena no more than 2 minutes later. Aurora’s about to head to the dressing room and leave Harry to do his sound check but he pulls on her hand and his hands quickly find their way around her in a tight hug. She’s starting to get used to his hugs and his hands constantly at her waist or holding her hands. “I’ll see ya in a little bit, okay?” She nods against his chest. “Thanks for entertaining me, Ror.” He places one last lingering kiss to her cheek and before she knows it he’s on stage and his voice is booming through the speakers in the arena and she’s still standing there in awe of her afternoon.

“Where’ve you been today?” Helene asks Aurora as she’s making a plate for dinner.

“Oh, uhm, I’ve-” Aurora doesn’t really know what to tell her. She assumes if Harry wanted her to be hush about their afternoon that he would’ve said something. “I was with Harry,” she says quickly, adding a spoonful of hummus on her plate.

“You were- you were with Harry?” Aurora blushes. “Aurora. Tell me everything.”

“Not much to tell.” She thinks the less she says the better.

“Uh huh… I don’t believe you. Your cheeks are as red as the tomatoes on your plate.”

“Okay, okay,” she says as they sit down at an empty table. She pulls the note from her pocket and hands it to Helene. She raises her eyebrows up at her while she unfolds the paper.

“Aurora, oh mon dieu,” she voices, her french accent heavier when actually speaking French. “So you met him, then?” Aurora nods while picking at the plate in front of her. “Continue…” she urges her.

Aurora tells Helene about her time with Harry while they finish their dinner and head back to the dressing rooms. Helene continues to ask questions about the afternoon and is picking apart every detail that Aurora has shared. They both grab everything they’ll need for the rest of the night, Helene, her camera and Aurora, her look book. Aurora also trades her jean jacket for her ‘Harry World Tour’ hoodie.

“So you think you guys will hang out more?” Aurora is silent for a moment as they turn the corner. “Aurora?”

“I mean, I want to but…” she trails off, “I don’t know. Not like this a normal situation… and it’s only the 1st week of tour. There’s still 4 months ahead of us.”

“Yeah, so?”

“What if something happens?”

“Don’t you want something to happen?” Helene questions Aurora as they enter Harry’s empty dressing room. Harry’s own Gucci throw pillows already place perfectly on the empty couch and his suitcase is set off to the corner.

“Honestly, I don’t know. Guess I’m a bit scared.”

“Being a little scared is probably good.” Helene is setting up her camera, changing lenses and taking a few test shots of the room. “I mean, if there’s any feelings, whatever they are or may be, then it would be worth seeing where it goes. I don’t know Harry all too well yet but he seems genuine.” Aurora smiles at Helene at the comment. “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be careful and I don’t want to scare you more but his life is much different than either of ours.” Helene can hear Aurora sigh across the room. “Just be careful, yeah?”

“Yeah, you’re right, there’s no way to tell what will happen. Guess I’ll just take it as it goes?”

“Think that’s best.”

“This is also my job, my career…”

“Don’t think of your job and your relationship with Harry in the same space. You’ve gotta separate work and pleasure. Always.” Aurora giggles at that. “You good? I wanted to get some photos of the empty arena and the lines outside before they open the doors.”

Aurora thanks Helene for letting her blab about her afternoon and is thankful for the alone time she’s greeted with once she leaves. Aurora grabs her headphones and calls her mom back as she goes to prep Clare, Sarah, Mitch and Adam’s clothes. She knows they’ll all be busy for at least another hour before they come back to their dressing rooms.

Aurora doesn’t tell her mom about her afternoon with Harry. She does tell her that she loves tour life but is still a bit homesick. Her mom tells her about the new kitchen appliances they got for the house, some drama between some of their neighbors about grass upkeep and how they’re already counting down the days till the MSG shows when they get to see Aurora. As their conversation lingers on Aurora heads back to Harry’s dressing room. She smiles when she remembers what he’s sporting tonight.

“Mom, I’ll definitely have to send you a photo of what he’s wearing tonight.”

“More Gucci?” She jokes.

“Surprisingly no!” She laughs along. “It’s actually a new designer, still in school too. I actually met him when I was at CSM when I met Lambert as well.” She pulls the Harris Reed ensemble out and hangs it on the empty rolling rack and taps the steamer on. “Not a classic suit in the slightest, flared pants with a chiffon insert at the flare, quite a frilly button up shirt and a cropped black vest. Pretty excited to see him perform in this.” Her mom gushes over the idea of The Harry Styles dancing around stage in something so unique. That leads her mom into questions about Harry - how is he, what’s he really like, are you friends, and does he have groups of women following him around all the time like you think a rockstar does. Aurora hushes her mom and gives her very short, minimal answers.

“Mom, he’s really busy, I barely even see him.” She knows if she really starts talking about Harry

that her mom will be able to hear it in her voice. Her mom knows her all too well.

Harry walks in just as she wrapping up the phone call with her mom.

“Nice sweatshirt,” he says not seconds after she says goodbye to her mom. He smirks at her as he sits down in the chair in front of the vanity. Ayae hasn’t arrived yet. Aurora glances at her watch before tugging at one of the strings on her hoodie. She notices he’s starting to show up in his dressing room earlier and earlier each night.

“When do I get a sweatshirt with my name on it?” she asks turning back to the frilled shirt Harry will be adorned in later that evening.

“Probably never,” he says slyly. She whips her head around at him, shock written all over her face. “Quite like the look of my name on you.” He says it so nonchalantly. He’s not even looking at her when he says it. He’s messing around on his phone. She’s frozen while looking at his form sitting so casually in the chair, scrolling through his phone. She huffs in disbelief, barely able to process the words that had come out of his mouth. She was right. He lifts his head when she doesn’t say anything. When their eyes meet in the mirror she slowly turns back to her work. Little does she know that there’s a smirk appearing on his face as he goes back to messing about on his phone.

“I had a feeling,” she boldly whispers to herself, half hoping he doesn’t hear her and half he actually does.

“What was that, love?” he asks. He heard her she knows for sure but she plays along.

“Oh nothing.” The room is quite silent for a few minutes apart from the noise the steamer makes once and a while.

About 30 minutes later, Ayae finishes Harry’s hair and makeup. She’s cleaning up her stuff as Harry slides into the Harris Reed flared pants.

“Ror, I had fun today,” he speaks up once Ayae leaves. Aurora hands him his shirt.

“So did I,” she says softly, not making eye contact. As she grabs the vest from the hanger she can see out of the corner of her eye that he’s not actually putting the shirt on. “Ya know, you gotta actually put your arms through the sleeves to get the shirt on, yeah?” she jokes though her voice is a bit shaky. Still not looking at him because she’s nervous and second guessing everything, like always

“Hey,” his voice is soft too now. She can tell he’s picked up on her nerves. “Everything alright, Ror?” She stays silent, not really knowing how to describe how she’s feeling right in that moment. She nods with a hum. Harry accepts her answer, for now and finally puts on his shirt. “Tie this for me?” He asks holding the long fabric ties out towards Aurora.

“Course,” she says smiling to herself, predicting that this will be a common occurrence throughout the tour. He’s totally capable to tie it himself, but Aurora won’t argue with an excuse for the two of them to be just a few inches closer. “Harry,” he hums in response still looking intently at her while she keeps her focus on the fabric looping through her hands and fingers. “Uhm, you, uh, I’m just curious, but you’ve been calling me Ror, a lot,” she pauses, still pulling on the fabric around the collar, “instead of Aurora.”

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it anymore if you don’t want me to.” She can feel the heat from his neck as her fingertips brush against his throat every now and then.

“No, I don’t mind actually. Just curious where you got it, I guess.” Once the bow is tied to her liking she grabs the cropped vest again.

“Oh,” Harry chuckles lightly, almost like a nervous habit, “haven’t really given it much thought. Just kinda came to me as I got comfortable with ya.” Harry turns away from her and she holds up the vest. He slides his arms through and pulls on the front of the vest just as he has done with each suit jacket the previous nights. Aurora speaks up while she’s getting the shoulder seams of the vest to sit just right on Harry’s broad shoulders.

“My mom has always called me that,” she shoots him a small smile in the mirror, “Ror or Rory.” He smiles back at her. “Really, not a lot of people call me by a nickname.” Harry turns back around to face Aurora, a hand going to her waist as a voice announces 15 minutes till curtain. “It’s nice to hear it when I’m so far from home.”

“Well, Rory,” he winks at her. “I’ve got a show to put on. Thanks for making me look the best.”

“Harry, you’re forgetting your shoes…” she giggles at him. He places a kiss on the top of her cheek, something she doesn’t think she could ever get tired of.

“What would I do without you?” He slides a fresh pair of socks on and then his boots, then another kiss to her cheek before he’s running out the door to perform on stage for an insane amount of people.

Aurora watches most of the show from the audience. Half of her time is spent watching Harry on stage and the other is tagging along with Helene and watching in awe of her getting the best shots. Aurora is thrilled with how the flares look when he’s dancing around and takes a video to send to her family’s group chat and Lambert. Harry has just draped one of the many pride flags he’s acquired on stage over his mic stand just as the updated, rocky version of ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ starts. He’s not even finished with the 1st verse and the bow that she tied loose around his neck has come undone. As he launches into the next verse he makes direct eye contact with Aurora. She can feel her cheeks heat up as he grabs for the loose pieces of fabric and re ties them into a bow without breaking eye contact. The second the bow is tied he takes his mic from the stand and walks over to the side of the stage, passing Aurora. He walks back towards his mic stand while belting out the lyrics, a smile starting to sneak up on him. Harry doesn’t make it to the mic stand before he pivots back towards Aurora’s direction. He directs the mic towards the audience signally them to sing louder. Simultaneously, he looks down at Aurora who is standing next to Helene in front of the barrier, who is crouching down to get a good angle of the stage. The smile that was sneaking up on him makes a full appearance as a lopsided smirk directed at her. The only thing besides Harry’s smile that she is aware of in the arena of thousands and thousands of people is the click of Helene’s camera.

“Gotta figure out something with those dang bows,” was the first thing Aurora said to Harry when he arrived back in his dressing room after the show.

“Maybe I’ve gotta tone down my dancing?”

“Hmm probably a good idea to do that anyways,” she spits back at him as she takes the vest off his shoulders, “bow or no bow.” His eyes turn to slits as he grimaces at her joke.

“Ha ha. You’re so funny, Rory,” he deadpans.

“Come on,” she says through a yawn, “start handing me your clothes so I can get them packed up.” There’s a hint of sleepiness in her voice and she isn’t even trying to cover it up.

Harry starts to peel one piece of clothing off after the next and handing them to her. A barely clothed Harry stands in front of her, a situation she has started to kind of - key words, kind of - get used to. She’s hanging everything up, the start of her new nightly routine. In her head she knows she’s just getting closer and closer to getting the chance to fall asleep in a huge bed that awaits her back at the hotel.

“Ror, would you wanna come out with me tonight?” She hums and yawns again, giving him a questioning look. “A few of us are going out to get food and drink, wanna come with?” Suddenly Aurora is aware of what he’s asking.

“Oh, Harry, I don’t know,” nerves tickle through her fingertips as she hangs up the flared trousers Harry had on, not moments ago. Go out with Harry? And his friends? Today had already been a lot for her. Aurora is overwhelmed at the thought and thankful that she has clearly shown signs of her exhaustion already. An easy excuse. “I’m really tired. Not really used to the traveling and jet lag is still kicking my ass.”

Harry is silent before he speaks up, “Okay,” he says solemnly, “maybe next time then?” She nods at him in agreement knowing full well that she’ll make an excuse next time. She doesn’t know why, but something just doesn’t feel right with taking whatever her and Harry have outside the bubble that each arena has created.

“Great show tonight, Harry! I’ll see you in Antwerp.”

Hope you enjoyed !! feedback & comments always appreciated !!!

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #sequins & zippers #aurora on tour #harry styles fanfiction #one direction imagine

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searchingwardrobes · 4 years ago

Text

Start of Time: 7/9

In this chapter, Wendy/Emma worries things will be awkward after the kiss, and "Wendy's" real life may be closer than she thinks.

Summary: Killian and his son are driving through a bad snow storm when they find a disoriented woman walking down the road. The question is, how can they help her get home when she has no idea who she is? Written for @teamhook on her birthday.

Rating: T

Trigger warning: Alice Jones appears in this fic and Alice and Henry are both Killian’s adopted children with Milah. Henry isn’t Emma’s. Positive past Millian. No Neal.

Words: about 2,500 in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging the usuals::@snowbellewells @kmomof4@jennjenn615 @kday426 @let-it-raines @bethacaciakay @profdanglaisstuff @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @tiganasummertree@whimsicallyenchantedrose @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @distant-rose@shireness-says @xhookswenchx @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @branlovestowrite @welllpthisishappening @stahlop @hollyethecurious @ekr032-blog-blog @scientificapricot @wellhellotragic @vvbooklady1256 @sherlockianwhovian @superchocovian @nikkiemms @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @ohmakemeahercules

Wendy had a fitful night sleep as she replayed the kiss in her mind. Sometimes she fantasized about it - her heart pounding as she remembered the feel of his lips on hers and his fingers lightly tracing her skin. Other times she beat herself up for grabbing him like that. It wasn’t fair to him at all when she had another life out there to return to. He was a father, too, which made it ten times worse. She hadn’t just gotten too close to Killian - she’d gotten far too close to Henry and Alice as well. She was an awful person, there was no way around it.

She also tossed and turned wondering how in the world she could face him again. First she’d initiated a kiss, and then she’d pushed him away? She’d seen the tormented look on his face - as if he’d done something wrong. She punched her pillow in irritation a couple of times before giving up on sleep altogether.

It was a quarter past four in the morning when she slipped from her room and headed down the stairs. She paused at the bottom step when she thought she heard sounds coming from the deep recesses of the house. She tilted her head. Was that . . . music? Wherever it was coming from, it was faint. She veered around the kitchen, heading towards the hallway off the foyer instead. She’d never ventured into this part of the house. She knew it led to the garage and Killian’s veterinary office on the other side, but she’d never had reason to go there.

Wendy slowly eased open the door to the garage. It was surprisingly warm, though still a bit chillier than the rest of the house. She flipped on a light switch and gasped in surprise at what she saw. She knew the Joneses didn’t keep their vehicles in here, and she had heard Alice mention painting in the garage, but she hadn’t expected this. The room was insulated and heated, for one. The floor was still concrete, though, and for good reason - Alice had free reign to be as creative and messy as she wanted. The floor was splattered in a haphazard way with various colors, and glitter and tiny bits of paper added to the creative mess. There was an unfinished oak table in the center of the room with matching oak chairs. These were also splattered with paint and scribbled all over with markers and crayon. Two easels were set up: one was a chalkboard, and one held a canvas. Bins lined the opposite wall, filled with all the art supplies a girl could dream of: buttons, pom poms, pipe cleaners, stickers, glitter, and half a dozen others. A cabinet next to it was littered with various mediums from acrylic paints to oil pastels. It was a legit art studio, and Killian had made this for his daughter.

The music she had heard was coming from her left, through a door that she assumed led to Killian’s office. He had told her the entrance for customers was on the outside of the house, but she also knew the kids had access to his space from inside the house. This must be it. Wendy’s lips ticked up in a smile as she imagined Alice interrupting her dad to show him her latest creation.

She tiptoed across the floor, the concrete ice cold even through her socks. Slowly Wendy opened the door. Killian’s back was to her and at first she wasn’t sure why he was hunched over. As she stepped into the room, it became clear: he was playing the guitar. He was singing, too.

“Touch your lips just so I know. In your eyes, love, it glows so. I’m bare-boned and crazy for you when you come crash into me, baby . . . “

He hummed then, either because he didn’t know the rest of the words or because he was concentrating on strumming, and Wendy cleared her throat. He startled at the sound, then relaxed when he turned in his chair and saw her.

“Sorry,” she apologized, “I couldn’t sleep, and then I heard music . . .”

She trailed off as she realized that she was doing the very thing that had kept her up - facing him. The early hour had given a surreal quality to everything, but now it slammed into her that he was only a few feet away. If he felt as awkward as she did, however, he didn’t show it.

“No, no, don’t apologize. I hope I didn’t keep you up. I usually don’t disturb the kids way out here -”

“No, it was fine, really. I was already up. I could barely hear it, but I was curious.”

He simply nodded. “I’m a bit rusty,” he confessed. “Hope it didn’t sound too bad.”

“Not at all. And you have a great voice.”

He ducked his head, blushing at her praise. Wendy found a folding chair and dragged it over so she could sit down. She reached her hand out towards the instrument.

“May I?”

“Of course,” Killian told her, pulling the strap up and over his head and relinquishing the guitar.

A thrill went through her - it felt so familiar, so right in her hands. She put the strap around her shoulders, then adjusted the guitar on her thigh. She plucked a few strings, then began to strum. Once she felt comfortable, it just came to her, and she was suddenly playing a guitar solo. Killian’s eyes widened, and she just grinned. She transitioned to strumming as she began to sing.

“If we still have time, we might still get by. Every time I think about it, I want to cry. With bombs and the devil, and the kids keep comin’. No way to breathe easy, no time to be young. But I tell myself I was doin’ alright. There’s nothin’ left to do at night but go crazy on you. Crazy on you. Let me go crazy, crazy on you.”

She trailed off when she saw how Killian’s jaw had dropped. Her own mouth hung open in shock as she stopped the sound of the guitar with her flattened palm.

“I can sing!” she exclaimed. “And I know how to play the guitar!”

Killian blinked and shook his head. “That’s an understatement love! That’s Nancy Wilson’s guitar solo you just played! My God, lass!”

“Yeah,” Wendy mused, “Nancy Wilson from Heart. That’s not easy to play, is it?”

“Not like that it isn’t! I’m sort of embarrassed that you heard me muddling around just now.”

She shrugged. “I thought you had promise,” she teased.

He laughed and shoved her playfully in the knee. “Come to think of it, I did hear you belting out ‘Brass in Pocket’ the first night you were here.”

“Wait a minute!” Wendy exclaimed. “I was singing that in the shower!”

Killian’s face turned bright red and he scratched furiously behind his ear. “I was just leaving you some clothes, I swear. I turned right back around!”

Laughter bubbled up out of her. “I thought one of the kids left those clothes. They were all balled up and half falling on the floor.”

“I told you I got out of their post haste!”

They were both laughing now, and it felt wonderful. She should have known he wouldn’t make things awkward. She stared down at the guitar in her lap and idly strummed.

“About you not sleeping -”

“Don’t, Killian, please.”

“We need to talk about that kiss.”

“No, we don’t. It was a . . . one-time thing.”

Killian sighed and then stood wearily to his feet. “As you wish.” He made his way slowly to the door. “You coming?”

“Would it be alright if I stayed in here and played a little longer?”

He smiled gently at her. “Of course, love. God knows that guitar deserves someone with more talent than me.”

The sadness infusing his words lingered long after he’d left, and Wendy could only hum while picking out a few chords. Then, suddenly, words that she knew were in no recorded song she had ever heard before, yet were familiar all the same bubbled up out of her along with a melody for the instrument in her hands.

“Once I lived in darkness out there on my own. Left to brave the world alone. Everything seemed hopeless, no chance to break free. Couldn’t hear the song inside of me.”

She stilled the music with her palm once more. Where the hell had that come from?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steam rose up from the colander where Killian was draining the pasta. Behind him, the oven timer starting going off.

“Henry, can you grab the garlic bread?”

Henry hopped up from the kitchen island where he was finishing his homework, grabbed an oven mitt, and slid the bread from the oven.

“When are Alice and Wendy gonna get home? I’m starving!”

Killian smiled as he shook his head ruefully. It seemed like the boy was always “starving.”

“I’m sure they’ll be back any minute. I hope so anyway. This food is gonna get cold.”

As if their conversation had summoned them, the front door suddenly burst open and his daughter’s giggles blended with Wendy’s laughter. The sound made his heart clench and his smile widen. He looked over his shoulder as the two of them tumbled into the kitchen, dropping bags on the table.

“Come see what we got Daddy!” said Alice.

Killian wiped his hands on a kitchen towel. “Okay, but only for a minute. We don’t want the food to get cold.”

“Where’s Mary Margaret?” Henry asked with a frown.

“She had to get home and help David with something with the horses,” Wendy told him, “but she said to tell you hi.”

“Okay, girls, what do we have?” Killian asked.

“This is mine,” Alice said, digging something white and frilly out of one of the thrift store bags. She shook it out and held it up for them to see.

“An apron?” Henry scoffed.

“I’m gonna be Alice, get it?” Alice pressed the apron to her torso and frowned at her brother. “You know - Alice in Wonderland. I’ll wear this over my blue Easter dress.”

“Oh,” Henry said, “I see.”

“We also bought some blue ribbon at the craft store to tie around her hair,” Wendy added.

“And this . . . “ Alice announced dramatically, pulling a long, stainy, light blue nightgown with capped sleeves out of the other thrift store bag, “is for Wendy.”

“We’re casting ourselves to type,” Wendy said to Killian with a shrug.

“I like it. But this is a couple’s dance.”

“Daddy, we know that,” Alice countered with a roll of her eyes. “You and Henry will match us. So Wendy is - well, Wendy, so you can be Peter Pan.”

Killian narrowed his eyes. “I am not going as Peter Pan. You are not getting me in green tights.”

Wendy and Alice exchanged knowing glances. Wendy reached into a bag from the party supply store. “We had a feeling you’d say that, so we got you this.”

Killian chuckled as he took it from her. “A plastic hook. Okay, I’ll go with it.”

“I thought we should get a pirate hat too, but Wendy said you wouldn’t go for it.”

Killian caught the woman’s eye. “She already knows me so well.”

Wendy glanced away as a blush stained her cheeks.

“What about me?” Henry demanded.

“Well, since I’m Alice, we got you this.”

“Sweet!” Henry exclaimed as his sister handed him a tall, purple velour hat with a giant fake price tag attached. He plopped it on his head and grinned up at Killian. “Can I borrow one of your vests, Dad?”

“Sure, son.”

“We are going to look so cool!” Alice squealed as she jumped up and down. She grasped Wendy around the waist, and the woman hugged her back with enthusiasm.

“I know,” Wendy agreed, “I’m so proud of us! And we only spent like twenty bucks!”

Killian watched his daughter planning out her costume with Wendy, and first his heart warms at the way the two of them have bonded. On the heels of that emotion, sadness washed over him as he realized that his daughter could also get hurt.

***********************************************************

Zelena Green really thought that that teaching her spinning class would get all of her frustrations out, but she stepped out of the showers fuming just as much as she had when she’d arrived that afternoon. Her mother had always warned her she came on too strong with men, but Killian Jones had really seemed to be warming up to her. Until this infuriating Wendy person showed up. Amnesia? Yeah, right. Zelena was a master of manipulation, and even she hadn’t stooped low enough to try that tactic.

As Zelena stomped out of the locker room, her students gave her a wide berth, many of them still struggling to breathe after the torture she’d put them through. She ignored the teenager at reception, her boss asking to speak with her, and the tiny brunette named Dorothy who cried out in irritation when Zelena practically bowled her over. Curses spilled from her mouth when she collided with a corner of one of the tables in the lobby littered with magazines. They all slid to the floor, and Zelena cursed again. She tossed her gym bag down and started scooping them up.

She froze when she saw a copy of last month’s Rolling Stone. Normally, the small blurb on the members of a moderately successful female indie rock band going solo wouldn’t have caught her attention.

But there was a blonde in the picture she had seen before.

********************************************************

“Ms. Mills, you have a call on line one from a Zelena Green that you really need to take.”

“I don’t know anyone by that name,” Regina told her assistant archly, “so just say I’m busy.”

“Begging your pardon, but I really think you need to hear what she has to say.”

Regina rolled her eyes as she swiveled her chair to face the incompetent woman interrupting her. “And why is that?”

“Because she says Emma Swan is stuck in rural Maine with a case of amnesia.”

#cs ff #cs modern au #snowed in #daddy!killian #knightrook #amnesia #angst #pining

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years ago

Note

Hello!!! How are you?

So I had this idea have you ever written or read a double date fanfiction of pipabeth and jercy? I really wanted to read one

and what's your all time favorite jercy and pipabeth fanfic?

You are my favourite blogger and I love this blog so much!!!

Okay this has legit taken me like a week to get to because life has just been the most hectic but even if I do say so myself I am obsessed with this fic and I really really really hope you like it.

Also you legally own my soul now because you said so many nice things it automatically ascended from my body and it's on its way to you😩🥺thank you my angel!!!!!

I have never done an active pipabeth x jercy double date thing but I think pipabeth is sometimes mentioned and/or featured briefly in my jercy fics or vice versa. The only one i can think of is my Bakery AU. My favourite pipabeth x jercy fic is Stranded by @punkpipabeth because everything about it is just *chefs kiss* and I love it endlessly. I cannot tell you the amount of times I've read that fic.

Masterlist

Okay here's my one, please enjoy:

Find definitions to ballet terms here; ma raison d’être means ‘my reason for being’

"Alright everyone, let's start from the chassè."

"And," His teacher rolls, "Five, six, seven eight."

Percy Jackson pushes off from the bar and strolls to the middle of the room, amusement swimming in his eyes. Jason Grace winks before turning to the front and standing in position.

He pushes his foot forward bending over his leg and brushing the floor with his fingers.

"Good Piper," She calls, "And grand jetè and pas de chat and relevè, relevè. Pirouette."

The music fades as they all breathe heavily, a leg raised behind them and arms fanned over their heads in a V.

"Well done everyone, good class. I expect to see that perfected by Tuesday. But for now enjoy the weekend and rest easy."

The class breaks into chatter and excited bubbling as the weekend stretches out before them.

"Piper," Their teacher says, "Can I talk to you about the costume?"

Percy flops onto the floor, talking a large desperate sip from his bottle and tugging off his ballet shoes.

"Ugh," Jason groans, "I swear these elastics get tighter every time I wear these."

"Maybe if you stopped stretching them with your massive feet you wouldn't have these problems." He teases, green eyes dancing.

"Shut up. Not all of us can look like faerie princes."

"You think I'm a faerie prince?" Percy wiggles his eyebrows.

"Graceful and devious?" The blonde matches his expression, "Hell yes you're a faerie prince."

He blushes, brown skin heating under that electric gaze.

"Hey you two," Piper McLean crashes down next to them, pulling at the ribbons wrapped under her ankles.

"Sup Beauty Queen," He smiles, "You looked incredible out there."

"You really think so?" She shares a rare look of shyness.

"Definitely." Jason's gaze is full of pride.

"Well thank you. Who knew playing Cordelia would be so..."

"Challenging?"

"Inevitable." She sighs and there are possibilities flickering in her brown eyes.

They finish changing out of their sweaty ballet gear in content silence. Percy doesn't bother taking off his tights, just shoves a pair of grey sweats over them before threading his arms through a wind jacket and leaving it to fall open on his bare chest. The wind is cooling against his heated skin and he almost groans in relief.

"You guys want to grab burgers at the Banter Bar?" Jason looks between them.

"Yes!" He squeals, "Gods yes! Let's go." He grabs their hands and races out the studio doors and into the vibrant night air.

Piper laughs, "Let me at least tell Annabeth to meet us there before she thinks I ditched her with no warning."

"Good plan," He echoes her happiness, as he tugs them out the gates and down the road.

The neon lights from all the little diners and bars make their skin look effervescent and their eyes glow with the magic of youth. The wet ashpalt from the afternoon storm is neon with allure. Tonight it feels like the world is theirs to spin and whatever direction it goes they'd go flying with it. Tonight feels like the start of something wonderful. He breathes in the winter wind and his lungs gasp like it's the first time they've tasted life. Tonight feels limitless.

The three of them skip up to Banter Bar to see an amused Annabeth Chase already waiting outside, her skateboard tucked into her side.

"Hello babe," She crashes into her girlfriend and they squeeze each other.

"Hello ma raison d’être," Piper whispers, kissing her softly.

Soon enough they're all flopping into a booth, menus placed in front of them and smiles stretching their cheeks.

"How was class?" Annabeth wraps a hand over her girlfriend's shoulder and slouches into the leather.

"So good! Your darling is spectacular." Percy grins.

She squeezes her shoulder, "I can't wait to see the show."

"It's not only me that's wonderful," Piper looks to the boys across from her, "They're unbelievable. I think Madam Alima is still astounded that Jase can jump that high."

"Says she hasn't seen anyone do that in all her thirty years of teaching or her twenty years of dancing." Percy brags.

"Well everyone in class is in awe of this one’s grace. Cannot count the amount of times people have stopped to stare as he does his adage." Jason fires back, blue eyes sparking.

"Can't believe I'm friends with the most talented dancers in the school." Annabeth smiles at them, her pride shining bright on her face.

The waiter comes back then to take their drinks order and when they all get chocolate milkshakes laughter bubbles from them like brooks and breezes.

"Gods," Black curls bounce as he turns, "Doesn't it feel like you could do anything right now?"

The girls thread their fingers together and squeeze softly before looking at him.

"There's just something about tonight." Piper agrees.

"Everything is irrelevant but this: to embrace life. To feel it. To savor it. To love it. Marty Rubin." Jason whispers.

"Yes," Percy turns to the blonde. To that strong jaw, and scarred lip and cerulean gaze. "That's what it feels like."

His head falls to his friend's shoulder and he feels a little closer to home. Their milkshakes are set down before them, a glazed cherry gleaming on the mountain of cream. With a delicious smirk he licks off the sugary whipping and offers the cherry to Jason. A gleam enters the blonde’s expression as he leans forward, eye contact like concrete sin, and closes his lips around the bright red fruit.

Their boundaries had always been a little blurred. Had always been one trip away from more. But it was fun, exhilarating to tiptoe on this edge. See who fell in first. If they would catch each other. Drag one another down with wicked smiles and warm hands.

"Where are we going after this?" Piper pauses her slurping to ask.

"Wherever the cobblestones take us." He shrugs. It's the kind of night to dream about the future and pretend the present is nothing but an exciting mystery.

"Let's go to the Hovel?" Jason suggests, pushing away his empty cup.

"Oh gods," Annabeth groans, "I couldn't even walk the last time we went there."

"Whose fault is that?" Her girlfriend laughs, "You were the one that fed us more shots than we have fingers."

"I’m a sucker for two-for-one. Sue me." She grumbles, sticking her tongue out.

"I'm down. But first I have to get out of these clothes."

"Before all that you little gremlins," Grey eyes narrowed, "Eat. I know how you guys get. Once an idea is sitting in your brains nothing else matters."

"Alright mom," They laugh and wave the waiter over to order greasy, cheesy, stuffed with everything but the kitchen sink burgers.

Class always makes them hungrier than should be possible and they can devour just about anything in front of them. When the food arrives, they dig in immediately. Faces stuffed and giggles bursting between them.

Jason picks a fry from Percy's plate and he looks at him incredulously.

"You did not just steal a precious potato from me."

The blonde responds by reaching over and stealing more.

With a laugh from the girls and a gasp from him, the black-haired boy jumps at Jason and attempts to steal his fries. But his friend is quick and the fries are held up in his right hand, high in the air and faraway from him before he blinks.

He scrambles onto the blonde's lap, unaware of the sharp inhale it drags out.

"Give me your fries you thief." He bounces as he tries to reach them.

Jason's hand is warm on his hip, keeping him pinned down so he doesn't go toppling onto the floor, "Nope. You were too slow."

He whips his ocean eyes to look at his friend, shoving his face so close their noses brush, "I was too slow?"

The boy hums and Percy’s attention falls the vibration of that smooth throat.

"Maybe you should have used some of that grace everyone loves you for."

He huffs a laugh, "Maybe you shouldn't steal."

"Trust me you stole something first." Blue eyes flash.

"And what exactly is that?" He breathes, as their foreheads fall together.

Jason just smirks and pushes him off his lap.

Annabeth and Piper are wrapped up in each other, whispering softly into their skin. They all turn to one another and if you ever went back to ask the waiter what they saw that night they will swear the room changed colours for that brief moment.

Later when the group arrives at the club, donned in outfits made from glitter and sacrilege, they shove their way to the center of the dance floor and became one with the music. Hands and skin and magic weaves between them. Like the start of something dazzling. Like obsession.

Percy wraps a hand behind Jason's neck and pulls their bodies together, so nothing is between them but electricity and indulgence.

"If this night never ends I'll be happy." He screams over the music, hot breath and joy in his friend's ear.

"Wanna die here?"

He can feel Jason's smile on his cheek.

"In your arms?" His lips graze a golden neck, "Every time."

"Want to know what you stole from me?" They pull back slightly, so emeralds and aquamarines meet.

"What?"

The blonde grabs his hand and puts it on his chest. He feels the rapid beating under his palm and his fingers curl into the shirt.

"If I fall into hell," He pushes into his face, "Catch me will you?"

"Let's fall together?" That grin is ungodly in its beauty.

"Lets fly."

And then Percy Jackson kisses his best friend and finds home between their souls.

#Squeeeeee #I don't know if there's enough pipabeth in here?!?!?#But I loved writing it #PJSSG fanfic #PJSSG asks #Ciara's Convos #She speaks #Baby fanfic #Baby fanfic series #Jercy #Pipabeth #Jason grace #Percy Jackson #Annabeth Chase #Piper McLean #not edited

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lihikainanea · 5 years ago

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Could you write about BFF!Bill finding out about Tiger being insecure about her stretch marks and/or scars? This may be a bit of a self-insert but holy fuCK I'm in love with BFF!Bill and I need more of him 🥺 I just recently started getting into the fandom and I honestly??? Could not have fallen harder for him than I did reading about BFF!Bill, so thank you, amazing author, thank you

Baby thank you so much for the kind words

Look man, tiger is like all of us and she definitely gets insecure about her body. But I feel like there’s this whole other layer here too, because she’d be a little insecure regardless, but she’s literally hooking up with a dude who makes a living off of his looks. Yes, Bill is talented. But there’s no way he’d be a Hollywood actor if he wasn’t ridiculously attractive. And his costars are ridiculously attractive--women who literally just look perfect in every way--and he has to do all these lovey, sexy scenes with them and seriously sometimes it just gives tiger such a complex.

And maybe she always had stretch marks on her thighs or her breasts or her stomach, maybe she’s always been a little uneasy about them. Or maybe it’s after that wonderful sun-filled vacation they took (check the extensive blurbs in my Masterlist :-P) and it was full of rum cocktails and too much food. And I don’t know about you guys, but I always gain a shit ton of weight on vacation. I don’t work out as much or as intensely (or uh, even at all) when I’m away and I literally just eat whatever I want so like, when I came back from New Orleans I legit am still carrying around a little buddha belly filled with crawfish boils, beignets, and hurricane dranks.

But like, look. Tiger’s got some extra cushion for the pushin’ that really only she’s noticing, but she’s poking around a lot and kind of cringing whenever she gets a glimpse in the mirror before a shower or something. And it’s a little easier to ignore on vacation because as soon as she starts to get a little down about it, somebody (Bill) is shoving another rum cocktail in her hands. But it’s a bit of a different story when thy get back home and all the magic of vacation is just...gone.

And it doesn’t take long for Bill to be shootin’ his shot. It never takes long. But the plane ride back was torture because she was cold so he bundled her in his sweater, but there she was looking all cute and cuddly in his gigantic pullover and she curled up into him and put her head on his shoulder but they were on a plane surrounded by their friends, and all he wanted to do was snuggle her and kiss her but he couldn’t do shit. So they get home and haul their suitcases up, and tiger’s probably all bloated from the plane and not really feeling her best self. It’s stupid, right, but it happens--hell something so insignificant as just my yoga pants rolling down a tad and giving me a muffin top is enough to really put me in a bad mood.

Anyway, Bill asks her if she’s hungry and it’s an immediate, pretty grumpy no. And that’s fine, but when she mentions she’s going to take a shower he smirks, hugs her from behind, starts walking with her to the bathroom--she tries to smile and shove him away playfully, but there’s an ounce of worry and seriousness to it. She was around a shit ton of people today, she says, and kinda just wants to be alone for a few minutes. Bill’s not hurt by it, he knows she likes her space so with a final peck to her lips, he pats her butt as she closes the door behind her.

And he’s not worried until she emerges from the bathroom in a towel, and when he playfully goes to grab it and pull it from her, she legitimately panics a little--he doesn’t like the fear he saw on her face, the way she desperately grabbed it and held it to her. He offers her food again because she really didn’t each much today but she quietly refuses, so he fixes a snack and plops it on his lap, pulling her to the couch to cuddle. She doesn’t nibble on it despite him handing it over to her every now and then. When he’s done he puts the plate on the floor, pulling her over and plunking her in his lap, her back to his chest. He loops his arms around her and lifts her shirt a tad to rub her tummy, but she immediately grabs his hand and loops hers through it, keeping it to the side instead. Bill frowns.

“Everything okay, kid?” he murmurs in her ear. She nods, turns her head a bit to kiss him.

“Just tired bud,” she says, “Tired and a little grumpy.”

“Do you want to go to bed?” he asks, and she nods. And listen, Bill really wants that closeness with her, just wants it to be all soft and slow and needy because god he’s feeling a little possessive and protective over her, but it’s not going anywhere tonight and he knows it. So instead when he lies down he just tucks around her, and he frowns when she keeps her (his) shirt on.

“Off with it tiger,” he mumbles, tugging at it, “Skin, please.”

But tiger is feeling way too self-conscious to be topless.

“I’m cold,” she says as an excuse. He tugs at her shirt again.

“I’ll keep you warm,” he says.

“Bill...” she growls in warning, and he sighs.

“Fine, grumpypants,” he mutters. And he curls around her more, but when he lifts the shirt just a tad to trail his fingers along her bare stomach, she grabs his hand again and moves it away. He doesn’t like it, but trying to talk to her about it when she’s grumpy and snappy will likely get him dead--so he lets it go.

But listen, the next morning? We all have those few seconds--moments, if we’re lucky--of sleepy bliss. The first 2 minutes when you wake up are the most glorious of the day because you literally can’t remember a single thing that would make you stressed. So maybe when Bill hugs her a little closer, nibbles on her neck, maybe tiger stirs awake and pushes back a little into him. He groans softly, rolling his hips into hers and when she whimpers a little, reaches her hand back to run through his hair, he turns her over onto her back and eases on top of her. She pulls him down for a kiss and tilts her hips up into his again, so he reaches for her shirt--this stupid fucking shirt that stopped him from feeling her soft skin pressed to his last night--and pulls it up over her breasts.

But it’s like the alarm button, and suddenly she remembered all the stupid issues she’s having lately. So she grabs it and pulls it down, sitting up and pushing him away. And that’s quite enough, for Bill. He’ll let her stew all she wants if that’s what she needs, but she got herself into a bad place and she’s just staying there...which is a no-go in his books.

“Tiger, what’s going on?” he asks softly.

“Nothing,” she tries, “I just don’t want to.”

“You wanted to a second ago,” he says, as he reaches out and tucks her hair behind her ear. Her eyes go hard.

“What, I’m not allowed to change my mind?” she challenges. Bill’s jaw ticks, because he knows what she’s trying to do. But her eyes flit down to her lap and she pulls her knees up to her chest, curling in on herself.

“Tiger, look at me,” he commands, but she just keeps her gaze averted and she bites her lip.

“Now, tiger,” he says more sternly and she sighs, closing her eyes for a brief second before she looks up at him. He puts his hands on her knees, pushing them down so she’s cross-legged and he can lean in closer.

“You can change your mind at any time and you know that,” he says softly, “But that’s not what this is.”

She goes to look down again but he tucks a knuckle under her chin, keeping it up.

“What’s going on?” he tries again. She huffs, but he keeps a hold of her chin.

“It’s stupid,” she mutters.

“If it’s bugging you, it’s not stupid,” he murmurs, “Please, kid. Is it...us? This? Do you not want to anymore?”

And you know, tiger has her faults, but Bill does too. And whenever she pulls away a tad or shirks his affections, his mind immediately goes to the fact that maybe she doesn’t want him anymore. And it breaks her heart. So she closes her eyes, cups his face gently in her hands and kisses him.

“No bud, it’s not this. I still want...us. It’s just that I..” she trails off, swallowing hard, “I gained a lot of weight vacation.”

“Tiger, it--” but she puts two fingers gently on his lips, silencing him.

“No. Don’t do that thing where you say it doesn’t matter, or that you didn’t notice, or that you don’t care,” she says but it’s not unkind, it’s just honest, “Because I notice, and I care, and I’m really uncomfortable about it.”

She lowers her fingers from his lips but he’s just watching her, taking it all in and trying to read her.

“I want...you. I want--shit, I need--that closeness with you. But I’m just really, really self-conscious right now and I don’t want to be naked,” she says, “I just have all these new soft bits and these marks that weren’t there before and--”

Tiger still has a lot of issues she needs to work out for sure, but sometimes her honesty and candidness still completely fucking flattens him and god he loves her for it. There’s a fine line, though, between honesty and self-deprecation, and she’s crossed to the other side when she starts listing off what she hates. So he gently puts a hand over her mouth, silencing her.

“Can I say something now?” he asks, raising his brows. She kisses his hand, pulling it from her mouth to thread with hers as she nods.

“As long as it’s not--”

“It’s not,” he cuts her off. He goes silent for a minute, waiting for her to meet his gaze and when she does and holds it, he speaks.

“I’m only going to say one thing,” he murmurs lowly but sternly, “I love you, tiger. You. Got it?”

She bites her lip, doesn’t say anything.

“Hey, am I talking to myself kid?” he flicks her nose,”Got it?”

“Yeah bud,” she says, “I got it.”

“Good,” he says and pecks her lips, “Do you want to continue?”

And she does, god she does, but shit she’s overthinking it all.

“Yes,” she admits, “But Bill I--”

“Hush,” he cups her cheeks with his hands, “Are you more comfortable with your shirt on?”

“Yes,” she mumbles, and he could tell there’s more but she goes quiet again.

“And?” he prompts.

“And,” she sighs, “Can you just....keep your hands up here? Hold mine or something. I’m not ready for you to be grabbing...stuff.”

“Sure, kid,” he says. And he wants to tell her that he hates it, that it’s the worst idea ever, that all he wants to do is run his hands all over her body and make her feel good. Wants to shake her and tell her that he doesn’t give a shit if she’s skinnier or thicker or softer or harder or any of that. But he knows it’s not the time, and that it won’t help. So instead he weaves his hands through her hair, pulls her head up for a kiss.

“And if you change your mind? At any point?” he asks.

“I’ll tell you,” she promises.

“Good,” he pushes her back down on the bed and juts his chin at her waist, “Take your panties off for me, kid. My hands will stay right here.”

“Oh,” she mumbles and blushes a little, “Uh, you can do that.”

He quirks a questioning brow at her, and she blushes deeper.

“I like it when you do that,” she admits, embarrassed. And she squeals when he grabs the waistband in one hand and all but RIPS them off her in one fluid motion.

And you know what? I’ll bet there’s no immediate fix to this, because it’s so deep in her head. And Bill hates it, hates that she’s so self conscious, but the only thing he can do that will help is to just...not push her limits. To give her all the affection she needs and wants but in the way that she wants it. If that means sex with a shirt on for like a month, then that’s what he’ll give her. If it means no soothing tummy pats or rubs, no hands running over her glorious body--it’s fucking torture for him, but that’s what he’ll give her. And he’ll go heavy on the praise, he’ll be really loud and enthusiastic about how good she makes him feel whenever she does want him a little closer, and it’s a slow process but eventually it’ll just help get her feeling a little more comfortable and safe again.

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #soft bill #BFF!Bill

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changarroo · 5 years ago

Text

Undeveloped // Seungmin AU

You have no idea who your soulmate is until a polaroid of them began to develop.

Seungmin Soulmate AU

Genre: Fluffy

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: it is 1:13 am and I am here posting this au... okay time for bed! goodnight and enjoy!!!

You never liked the idea of soulmates, like how are you supposed to be someone one and only when you are basically not allowed to find love for yourself. And great unlucky you were blessed with no soulmate mark or anything. You would remember children in primary school picking on you since you didn’t have a mark. And yet you have been dub the nickname ‘Soulmateless y/n” how sad.

You would go home and cry to your parents about the bully but they told you not to worry about it too much since your soulmate mark could appear in the future. And look where we are, your first day before your senior year of high school and still,,, nothing. GREAT! By this point in time, you didn’t care about the idea of soulmates anymore but it did string a bit whenever your friends found there's.

To take your mind off of the whole soulmate thing you picked up photograph and boy did you love it. “Y/n your so talented what the heck,” Natalie said looking at your recent photoshoot pictures. “Oh, that’s nothing you have to see the engagement photo I took,” you opened your laptop and search for the file. “You know for someone who doesn’t have a soulmate mark you really do like the taking engagement and wedding photos,” Natalie looked over your shoulder and at the photos. “I don’t know why but all the couples I shot look so happy when their one and only, I mean sure I probably don’t have a soulmate but that’s okay”.

Once you got home you continued to edit and upload pictures from past photography sessions. Everyone in your family was really shocked about your talent and supported you if this was something you wanted to fulfill in life.

“Y/n,” your father said opening the door to your bedroom “this came in the mall for you,”. He handed you a brown envelope with your address on it. “Strange I was expecting any mail,” you looked at the letter with a confused look on your face. Who would send you something, you don’t remember giving out your address to anyone or ordering something. Once your father left your room you hopped onto your bed and opened the letter. Another confused looked grew on your face when you saw what was inside.

One undeveloped polaroid with the words “come and find me” written on it”. Ummm one what the heck is this some sort of joke you first thought of and then you began to wonder if this was your soulmate mark. “MOM!” you quickly ran downstairs and into the family room where both of your parents sat watching the late night news. “Is this my soulmate mark?” you asked them holding up the polaroid. She looked at the package and then again at the polaroid, it was strange because she had never seen anything like this before.

“Y/n, I honestly have never seen a soulmate mark like this before,” she said handing you back the polaroid. “I think the best thing for you to do is to head to a soulmate specialist, they will be able to help you understand this mark better than I,”.

So here you are the next morning, walking to school you were looking down at your polaroid. “Oh y/n,” Natalie walked up to you “what do you have in your hand?”. “I think it’s my soulmate mark but it hasn’t developed yet so I can’t really say. All I know is that I received it with a note that just said ‘come and find me’. “Wicked,” Natalie looked closer at the polaroid “But aren’t polaroids supposed to be developed once the picture is snapped?”. “Yeah that’s what I thought maybe this is a special type of film?” you said looking down at it again. “I know,” Natalie stopped in front of you, “We have to go talk to Seungmin. He like the President of the photography club he would know the answer,”. You looked down at your phone to see the time “will we have a few minutes so why not”.

“Hey, Natalie what’s up?” San said as you two walked into the photography classroom. “Oh hey San, do you know were Seungmin is? We were wondering if he can help us out with something?” Natalie said setting her bag down at the desk. “Nope he had to run an errand but what’s up maybe I can help?” San set down his camera and walked over to the two of you. “Well, I got this polaroid with a note that said ‘come and find me’ but it's not developed so we were wondering if Seungmin and now you know how to develop it,” you handed him the polaroid. “Well, the chemical pack hasn’t been activated. So let’s see if we can break the seal,” San said getting some supplies.

“You are a genius San you know that right?” Natalie said elbowing you in the arm. “Yeah yeah if the film starts to develop I’ll text Natalie and you guys can come and pick it up. It should be fully developed by the time of your arrival”. “Thank you so much San, we owe you one,” you said as you opened the door to the hallway. “See y/n everything is going to be okay, you will find your soulmate!” Natalie hugged you for reinsurance.

A few classes had passed before you got a text from Natalie that the polaroid began to develop. You walked to the photography room during your break time trying to catch up with San. Since you were so nervous you blocked out everyone surrounding you. Suddenly you were on the floor on top of someone, looking at him you had no idea who he was. “I’m so sorry,” you quickly got off of him and help the stranger up. You notice for dropped some of his books so of course, you had to help him pick them up. It was the least you could do. “T-t-thank you so much,” he stuttered but smiling at you. At that moment you felt your heart flutter his smile was so pure and sweet. “No, umm no problem,” the word stuttered out of your mouth.

Once again you were on the way to the photography room. “Hey y/n you made it,” San said as you entered the room “your polaroid started to develop so it is on the rack right now. Go check it out,”. You checked up on the picture and you can see an outline slowly becoming visible. “OMG San you are legit the best thank you! Seriously I owe you big time!”.

Continuing on with your day you tried to focus on everything but the polaroid. Walking home you were anxious since you were finally going to see who your soulmate is. Everything from this point on was going to change. You slowly took the picture out of your backpack and closed your eyes. “This is it y/n this is going to change everything,” taking a deep breath out you open your eyes and lower your head to look at the picture. “Oh my god,” your jaw basically dropped as the guy who appeared on the polaroid. “It's him,” the words silently left your mouth.

Turning back you looked at your school and wonder if that guy who you bumped into was still there. So you took a leap of faith and went back inside. You searched everywhere you thought of but nothing. Walking down the hallway you lost almost all of your hope. Soon you were in front of the door for the photography room. Peaking in you saw someone editing a picture. There was a little voice inside of you telling you to go so you set your hand on the doorknock and slowly turned it.

The room was quiet and calm, you probably guess that a bunch of pictures went home since it was a holiday. “Hi can I help you?” a stranger asked as you entered the room. You were shocked to see the boy who you ran into earlier, the boy who appeared on your picture, your soulmate.

“Hi, umm I have a strange question, but I also wanted to properly apologize for falling on you earlier today,” you said walking up towards him. “Oh right, you looked like you were in a rush but everything is all good,” Seungmin looked down and rubbed the back of his neck. The room was dead silent but about two minutes before one of you spoke again. “Yeah, I was actually on my way here cause San was helping me figure how I can develop this polaroid I have with my soulmate pictures on it,” you confessed to him. “Well, I hope everything went well San is very helpful when it comes to developing,” there is again the awkward energy.

“Yeah he was, and it wasn’t for him I would have never found my soulmate,” you slowly looked up at him holding the polaroid. He looks down and then walked over to his bag and pulled a polaroid. “We flip on three, for reinsurance you know,”. You nodded your hand in agreement. “One, two, three,” the two of you flipped your picture and would you look at that, you show your picture on his polaroid. “It looks like we are soulmates,” Seungmin said looking up at you “hi I’m Seungmin,” he extended his hand out for a handshake. “Hi, I’m y/n”.

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turtle-steverogers · 6 years ago

Text

Fugitives- Chap 8

its 1:30 am and this is trash, so forgive me, but its worth reading to the end because PLOT POINTS!!

also idk why but this chap was really hard to yeet out. i have like the whole fic planned, but i needa get there first if that makes sense so writing the shit leading up to the REAL SHIT is hard but stay tuned cuz it gets really fucking saucy in the future oooooo

warnings: non graphic gunshots and kinda death shit but its really nothing compared to previous chaps so its fine

ship: eventual ralbert

editing: no and its obvious. sorry

Although Albert’s mental state was far from okay, it was in his nature to be optimistic. As much as everything had gone to shit in the past week, he forced himself to get up every day and assimilate as best as possible into gang life. The nightmares hadn’t stopped yet, though. Every night, he was plagued with clear images of Elmer, dead against the wall of Sarah’s apartment, brain matter splattered aimlessly on the eggshell white walls behind his lifeless form. But he learned quickly that a hot shower almost always brought him down, and since the night that Race had confessed his experience with Rockefeller to him, he had learned to keep quiet during a breakdown.

Ever since the night of Albert and Race’s talk, the dynamic between them changed significantly. Albert found himself relaxing around him, and would often join him for breakfast, which for Race never seemed to deviate from a singular banana. They got into the habit of playing various card or board games in the rec room after trades and Albert learned very quickly that Race had a talent for strategy. He rarely won against him, but his competitive disposition forced him to continue game after game.

“Check,” Race exclaimed, eyes glinting triumphantly as he moved his bishop in line with Albert’s king. It was Saturday night, exactly a week after Albert’s arrival in Empire, and trades had been particularly slow that day. Romeo and Jojo had gone to handle the one trade they had in Staten Island, leaving the rest of the group to mill about the theatre lazily. Snow had begun to fall rapidly outside, so the prospect of leaving was quickly shot down.

“Bullshit, you cheated,” Albert countered, squinting at Race, “We’ve been playing for, like, two minutes. There’s no way you already have me in check.”

“Not cheating,” Race said, loftily, “Just really good.”

Albert shook his head, scanning the board for any moves he could make in an attempt to escape Race’s bishop. He sighed when it became evident that he was stuck.

“You’re a motherfucker, Higgins,” Albert mumbled as Race took his king, cackling.

“I may be,” Race grinned, “But I’m a smart motherfucker.”

“In some respects, but don’t give yourself more credit than you’re worth.”

“Rude,” Race pouted. Albert snorted, glancing to the side at the TV, which was playing the local news, as per usual. He frowned when the camera zoomed in on what looked like a crime scene. Race followed his gaze and both boys blanched as the reporter spoke.

“This morning, Soho residents, Elmer Kasprzak and Sarah Wilkinson, were found dead in their apartment,” He said, solemnly, “Officials predict that they had been dead for nearly a week before their discovery. Several gunshot wounds were found during the autopsies, clarifying the cause of death. But perhaps the most disturbing detail, was the graffiti found on the wall at the scene of the crime,” The camera zoomed in on the symbol for death that Race had spray painted that day, “This notorious symbol is known to be used by Empire and Prospect. Two of the warring gangs here in New York City.”

Albert hadn’t even noticed he was shaking until Race reached out and tentatively took the pawn that he had been holding out of his iron grip.

Albert’s tongue felt heavy as he spoke, “Sarah was, uh, she was killed, too?”

Race set his jaw, eyes fixed on the chess board, “I didn’t know. But, yeah, I guess Jack and Davey didn’t wanna risk it.”

Albert closed his eyes, desperately trying to stop the tremors in his chest. He could feel Race watching him, but he couldn’t stand to look at him right now. Sure, he had predicted that Sarah wouldn’t be let off the hook, but seeing it become a reality felt like someone burning an exposed nerve. He felt sick.

“I’m gonna shower,” He said, after another few seconds of tense silence, save for the disturbing murmur of the TV.

Race didn’t say anything as Albert walked out of the room on shaky legs, numbly venturing to the showers. He stopped along the way to grab a towel from the bathroom bin, but frowned when he found a note saying all the towels were being washed. Scowling, he turned down the adjacent hallway to the bathrooms and entered he laundry room.

He startled slightly when he found Crutchie, perched on top of the washing machine, pulling towels out of the dryer to fold them. He looked up when Albert entered.

“Heya, Al,” He chirped, smiling too widely for Albert’s liking, “Need something?”

Albert licked his lips, acutely aware of the nausea that still thrummed in his stomach, “Uh, yeah,” he croaked, clearing his voice a bit, “Just, uh, just a towel?”

“Ah,” Crutchie hummed, taking a folded towel from the top of the pile and tossing it to Albert, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

Albert nodded his thanks and turned to leave, but was stopped by Crutchie’s voice, “You okay?”

Albert plastered on a fake smile, “Peachy.”

Crutchie studied him for a moment, “You’re pale. You sick? I could get you some-”

Albert waved a shaking hand, effectively quieting the other man, “I’m fine, man, I just wanna shower.”

Crutchie’s looked like he wanted to say more, but he simply shrugged, pulling another towel out of the dryer, “Alright,” he sighed, “Hey, I know we’re part of a gang and soft shit ain’t really, like, a thing. But if you ever need someone to talk to…” he trailed off and Albert shifted uncomfortably.

“Uh, thanks,” he said, hand on the doorknob. He really just wanted to shower.

Crutchie seemed to sense this, “Alright, I’ll letcha go, man. Have a nice shower.”

Albert shot him a thumbs up and left the laundry room. To his relief, the bathroom was vacant and he locked the door, savoring the solitude it provided him. He turned the shower to the hottest setting and stepped in, allowing the water to wash over him. He breathed deeply as the shivers that wracked his body slowed to a stop. Ten minutes later, his mind was significantly clearer and he couldn’t help but think that he was getting better at handling this.

He climbed into bed, stomach rumbling, and with a jolt, he realized that he hadn’t eaten dinner. He considered getting up to find a snack, but decided against it. He’d just eat extra in the morning. Besides, everyone else seemed to have gone to bed while he was in the bathroom and he didn’t really know how to cook.

He settled into his blanket, taking his phone off the floor and clicking into his Snapchat. A lot of his streaks were lost in the last week, but he decided to send out a few just for the sake of it. He didn’t want to lose all connections to his previous life. His friend, York, answered a few moments later, demanding to know where he’d disappeared to. Biting his lip, Albert decided to leave him on read. It wasn’t worth the trouble.

“Hey, Al, you up?” Albert lifted his head off of his pillow. Through the curtain, he could see the outline of Race’s curly hair propped on his hand.

“Yeah, what’s up? You good?” He whispered back, shifting so that he could hear better.

“No, yeah, I’m good. I was just gonna tell you to follow my meme account.”

“On Instagram?”

“Yeah.”

Albert suppressed the urge to laugh, “I mean, uh, sure. What’s your user?”

“Uh,” Race pulled back the curtain and peered around, making eye contact with Albert, “It’s a shit ton of underscores, then hotdogmilk- all one word- then another underscore.”

This time Albert really did laugh, but more out of disbelief than anything else, “You’re kidding.”

“No?” Race’s eyebrows furrowed, “That’s it.”

“No, no it’s just that I’ve been following you since you were at 400 followers. Good content, man.”

Race was practically glowing, “Thanks!”

“Yeah, no problem,” Albert hesitated, then asked on a whim, “Wanna go make mac and cheese? I haven’t eaten since lunch.”

Race smirked, already moving to put on a pair of socks, “Yeah, man, I’m down.”

They tiptoed to the kitchen and quietly got out the ingredients. Albert was reaching for a box of elbow macaroni, when Race stopped him, “Ah, ah, let’s use my stash,” he said, winking.

Albert frowned, “Your stash?”

Race nodded, kneeling on his hands and knees to reach under the sink. He brought out a gallon sized plastic bag, filled with penne pasta.

He held it up, grinning, “No one else knows about this, but it’s a Higgins family specialty.”

Albert’s eyebrows shot up, “You make pasta?”

Race blinked owlishly, “Yeah,” he said, sounding vaguely condescending, “I’m Italian.”

Albert jerked his head back in surprise, “You’re Italian?”

“I know,” Race said, “The blonde hair and blue eyes are off-putting, but yeah, I’m Italian,” he moved to put water on the stove, “Weren’t you there when I cursed Jack out in Italian after he won poker the other night?”

Albert put a saucepan on the stove next to the pasta pot, “I mean, I was, but I thought you were just extra like that.”

“Nope,” Race said, “I mean, you’re not incorrect, I am extra, but that was legit.”

“Wow,” Albert said, starting to melt butter for the cheese sauce, “The more ya know.”

“So, tell me about yourself, Al,” Race said, conversationally as he waited for the water to boil.

Albert glanced sideways at him, adding some flour and milk to the butter to create a bechamel sauce, “What do you want to know?”

Race shrugged, sticking out his bottom lip a bit, “I dunno, what do you like to do? What are your interests?”

Albert stirred the pot thoughtfully, “I don’t really know. I was studying to become a mechanical engineer before all this shit went down, so I dunno. Stuff like that.”

“Damn,” Race breathed, “Mechanical engineering’s pretty intense.”

“Nah, s’just numbers and stuff,” Albert said, nonchalantly, “Couldya pass me the cheddar cheese?”

Race passed him the bag of cheese and watched as he added it to the now thick sauce.

“What about you?” Albert asked, “What are your interests?”

Race scuffed the floor with his toe, looking mildly uncomfortable, “I dunno, I haven’t done much outside of shit for Empire,” he paused for a moment, “But I do like to read. I’m not great at it, but I like doing it.”

“Yeah?” Albert was a little surprised, Race didn’t seem like the reading type, “What do you like to read? Also, the water’s boiling.”

“Shit,” Race scrambled to turn down the stove, then added a fair amount of salt to the water before pouring his pasta in, “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Anyway,” Race continued, probing the pasta to break the pieces apart, “I like books that make you, like, think, ya know? Like, 1984, and shit like that.”

Albert clicked his tongue approvingly, “That’s a goodass read.”

“Ain’t it? Like, it’s not like the other shit dystopian novels. It’s got hella depth and is more than just, death and destruction and shit.”

Albert nodded, “I feel,” he brought the cheese sauce off the heat and covered it with a lid, “That’s definitely on my list of favorites.”

“I thought I heard voices,” Albert and Race jumped violently at the new presence. A boy, who looked no older than 10 years old, was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, wearing a white undershirt and Star Wars themed pajama pants.

“Les!” Race blurted out, “It’s, like, near midnight. You should be asleep.”

“I’m 11,” Les said, looking slightly offended, “I don’t have a bedtime.”

Race floundered for a moment, but Les was already moving to seat himself at the counter, “Anway,” he smiled, “Hi, Albert.”

Albert blinked, “How did you know-”

“I heard there was a new guy and I don’t recognize you. I put two and two together, it’s not rocket science.”

Albert and Race exchanged a bemused look, “Anway, what’re you guys making?” Les questioned, gesturing to the pots on the stove.

“Mac and cheese,” Race said, draining the cooked pasta, “Want some, squirt?”

Les rolled his eyes, “I stopped being squirt when I turned ten, you useless Italian.”

“Geez,” Race looked slightly wounded, “Harsh crowd. Guess you don’t want any.”

“Bitch!” Les squeaked, “Of course I want mac and cheese.”

“Then you better respect your elders,” Race sang, transferring the pasta to the cheese sauce pan and stirring.

Les hopped down, peering over his shoulder at the mac and cheese, “That’s what good pussy sounds like.”

“Les,” Race scolded, as Albert and Les cackled, “No vine references. That’s my thing!”

“Who said!”

“I did!”

“So what?”

“Listen, you tiny shit-”

“Guys!” Albert cut them off, “Can we just eat the goddamn mac and cheese? I’m starving.”

Race huffed, but served three bowls of the dish nonetheless. They all sat at the counter, digging in right away.

“Holy shit,” Albert said, mouth full of pasta, “This is really fucking good penne, Race, what the fuck.”

Race smiled, cheeks stuffed with food, making him resemble some sort of blonde chipmunk, “Thanks!”

They ate in silence, the only sound being the scrape of forks against ceramic bowls. Each of them helped themselves to seconds, then thirds, until it was all eventually gone.

“Wow, I have a massive food baby, now,” Les commented, patting his stomach idly.

“Me too,” Race groaned, “And I forgot my lactose pills, so I’m aboutta die.”

Albert choked on the water he was drinking, “You’re lactose intolerant, too?”

“Yeah, wait,” Race said, eyeing him, “Does this mean you also forgot your lactose pills?”

Les looked between them a few times, “Rip,” he muttered.

They cleared their dishes, then got to work tidying up the kitchen. They finished fairly quickly and made to go back to their beds, but were stopped short by a very annoyed looking Davey outside the kitchen.

“Lester Jacobs,” he reprimanded, arms folded at his chest. He looked like a mother. A very terrifying, murderous mother, “What are you doing still awake?”

Les shrugged, pushing past him down the hallway, “Midnight snack!” He called over his shoulder.

Davey sighed, “Kids,” he muttered, addressing Albert and Race for the first time, “Did I miss mac and cheese?”

Albert glared at him, hatred bubbling in his stomach. He hadn’t had many interactions with Davey since the day of Elmer’s murder. Only a passing glance here or there. He still made Albert’s skin crawl. His authoritative and oddly stoic demeanor sat badly in his stomach and that, combined with the fact that he quite literally shot his best friend in the head, made him a candidate for the top of Albert’s enemy list.

“Yeah, sorry, bucko,” Race said, clapping him on the back apologetically.

“Shame,” Davey said with no real emotion behind his words, “Anyway, do you think you two could pick up a trade in Queens tomorrow?”

Albert opened his mouth to snap something, but Race interjected before he could, “Sure, what time?”

Davey clicked into his phone, pulling up a photograph of some graffiti, “It looks like, um, 7:15. Heroin trade.”

Race’s jaw dropped, “7:15 am?”

“Looks like it,” Davey said, “Here, I’ll send you the picture for reference.”

“Thanks, Davey-o.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sorry.”

XXX

Albert woke up to a faceful of shaving cream. He choked, spluttering for a minute, before gathering his wits enough to wipe the cream off of his face.

He sat up, glaring at Race, who was holding a can of shaving cream, an innocent smile plastered on his face, “I tried to shake you awake, but you were comatose. I had to resort to extreme measures.”

Wordlessly, Albert took a handful of cream off his face and chucked it at Race, who dodged it skillfully, “Bitchass,” he grumbled.

“C’mon, I already letcha sleep in some,” Race said, nudging Albert’s exposed leg with his boot, “We gotta get going. Wash up while I get the shit from Finch.”

Albert flipped him off, but got up nonetheless, getting clothes from his bin, before heading to the bathrooms to clean off his face and freshen up. Ten minutes later, the two of them were exiting the theatre into the snow, bananas in hand. It was 6:45 and still dark, casting a calm atmosphere over the city. They were to be in Corona, Queens in a half-hour, so they opted to take a taxi rather than the subway. Albert was still fairly tired, so he took the ride to doze against the window. They arrived 20 minutes later and trekked through the cold to the location of a trade, teeth chattering in the wind.

“I think it’s in here,” Race said, nodding his head towards an old furniture store on the corner of one street.

They entered the shop and Albert frowned, “How will we know who to give the trade to?” He whispered as they made their way to the back.

“A code for heroin in our circle is ‘powder’, so I’ma ask if they have any and see what the guy responds with.”

Albert nodded, following him to the counter, where a young man, probably around twenty, was sitting. He looked half-asleep, but perked up when they approached, “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” Race said, “Got any powder?”

The guy raised his eyebrows skeptically, “You Empire?”

Race reflexively looked over his shoulder, tensing up slightly, but he recovered quickly, “Depends who’s asking.”

“Trevor.”

Race relaxed upon hearing the name, “Beautiful, yes. I’m Empire. Got the dough?”

Trevor nodded, opening the cash register and pulling out fifty dollars. Race grinned and held out his hand expectantly. Trevor rolled his eyes and reluctantly placed the cash in his outstretched palm.

“Kay, there’s your shit,” He snapped, “Where’s mine?”

Race pocketed the money and reached into his jacket, pulling out a neatly folded paper bag and placing it on the counter. He waited while Trevor poured out the contents and studied it for a moment before nodding. He looked pleased as he spit into his palm and held it out for Race to take, who returned the gesture.

“Thank ya,” He said.

“Welcome,” Race said, pumping his hand too enthusiastically for 7 am, “Pleasure doing business.”

“Likewise.”

They exited the store, delayed only briefly by Race getting sidetracked by an ugly carpet purse, claiming that Romeo would love it. Eventually, Albert was able to drag him out and down the street, but before they could hail another taxi, Race let out a yelp and pulled Albert into a small bodega.

“What are we here for?” Albert hissed, tugging on Race’s sleeve as he browsed the aisles.

“I’m tryna get high tonight,” Race said distractedly, plucking a bag of jalapeno cheetos off a shelf, “And these,” he held up the bag for Albert to see, “Are wonderful when the munchies hit.”

Albert bit his lip, annoyance and vague fear pricking the back of his neck, “And we couldn’ta done this, I don’t know, in our own turf where we aren’t at risk of getting fucking killed?”

“Please,” Race scoffed, “We’re always at risk of getting killed.”

“What if some Prospect guys catch us?”

“I’ve got a gun and a knife, we’re fine.”

“Okay, but what if-”

“Jesus Christ, shut up and let me buy fucking cheetos, it’ll take two seconds.”

Albert squinted at him, but stopped talking nonetheless. Race began to scan the shelves again and Albert glanced around, zeroing in on a packet of gum. In a sudden moment of impulse, he reached out and opened it, taking a singular piece of gum out and popping it into his mouth.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Race asked, cocking his head, making him look like a confused dog.

“I’m a criminal now,” Albert said, chewing, “May as well live up to it.”

“By stealing gum?”

Albert blew a bubble, popping it loudly, “Yes.”

“Alrighty then,” Race said, slowly, “Lemme check out, I’ll be right back.”

Albert wandered around the store for a few more minutes before Race met him by the milk, “Ready to go?”

Albert nodded, putting the gallon of chocolate milk he had been studying back in the refrigerator. They got out of the bodega to see that the sun had risen completely and Albert had to squint to see clearly.

Race clicked into his phone, mumbling something about ordering an Uber this time, because they’re cleaner, but shouts from the alley they were next to put them on alert. Race and Albert frowned at one another before scooting closer to hear.

“What the fuck is this?” A low, gravelly voice, thick with a Brooklyn accent, growled.

“Uh, it’s uh, it’s weed, man, like I said,” Another voice said, fear dripping in their tone.

“No, asshole,” The Brooklyn accent snarled, “This is fucking oregano.”

“I didn’t know, man, I’m-”

“Save it. Hotshot, take care of him,” Brooklyn accent barked, “Motherfucker really thinks he can trick the King of Brooklyn.”

“You got it, boss,” A new voice said. Albert spared a glance at Race, who had turned a scary shade of white. He looked like he was shaking and Albert frowned. What was happening? A gunshot brought both of them out of their trances and Race cursed under his breath, grabbing Albert’s arm and running in the opposite direction. As they sprinted, Albert couldn’t help but be reminded of the day they met, when Race was running from the police. Albert grimaced to himself as he thought about how simple his life had still been then. He missed it, but this was his life now and there were more pressing issues at hand.

They stopped in a new alleyway, several blocks away. Albert leaned against the wall, sucking in air in an attempt to catch his breath.

“So much for an Uber,” He panted, “What the fuck just happened? Were those Prospect guys?”

He looked up at Race, who had his back against the bricks, eyes squeezed shut and arms laced behind his head. He seemed to take a moment to compose himself, before opening his eyes and locking his gaze with Albert. His expression was indescribable and Albert couldn’t help the wave of dread that flooded his body like ice water.

“That was Prospect alright,” Race said, swallowing, “That there,” He paused, taking a deep breath, “that was Spot Conlon.”

OOO SPOTTIE BOY IS HERE (BROOKYLNS HEREEEE)

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

TAG LIST: @bencookisagod @we-dont-sell-papes @aw-jus-let-em-try @well-the-kids-do-too @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @thatpoorguysheadisspinning @labert-dasilver

@andthewoildwillknow @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @sunshine-e-cigarettes @have-we-got-news-for-you @musical-shitposts @thebroadwayaesthetic

@thomasbeingthomas

@irondad-spiderson-duo

@snakesarenonexistent

@i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing

@kpop-kk

@mentallytiredgoat

@yxseminx

@be-more-chill-evan-hansen

@stopthe-presses

@elmers-half-a-cup

@and-i-lostmy-shoe

@spot-me50-papes

#newsies #newsies fic #ralbert #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #fugitives #ooo #wild shit #omg im sorry this chap was bad

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hollandsdisney · 6 years ago

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Pumpkin Patch part 2

Requested: Yes(ish)

Pairing: Tom Holland x Best Friend!Reader

Part 1

a/n: so i wasnt going to do a part 2, but i realized my first one shot kinda left it on a cliff hanger soo..here we are!

Getting back to Tom’s flat, you gently nudge Harrison awake.

“Wake up sleeping beauty, we’re back,” you whisper.

His eyelashes flutter awake and he stretches his arms.

“That was a bloody good nap,” he yawns.

“I’m glad you had a good rest,” you reply wittily.

The three of you walk into Tom’s apartment, each of you carrying your medium sized pumpkins.

You set them down on the kitchen table and rub your hands on your jeans.

“Oh! My big and small pumpkins!” you gasp, going back to the car to get them.

“She’s not going to be able to carry that big one back in here,” Tom recalls, smiling towards the front door.

Harrison notices his stare and smirks.

“So why don’t you go help her out?” he offers.

Tom looks at him bewildered and quickly shakes his head.

“Tom, you’ve got to start making moves, you wanker,” Haz chuckles.

“M-make moves? For what?” Tom fidgets, crossing his arms.

“Don’t make me say it. Anyway, you’re losing daylight!” Has points towards the door, causing Tom to raise his arms in defeat and make his way to you.

When he got to the front door, he took in the sight of you trying to carry both pumpkins. You were leaning on your left leg for balance, carrying the bigger pumpkin and slowly reached for the small pumpkin.

He shuts his eyes and chuckles, shaking his head at your attempt to carry both.

“You know, you could have asked for help, love,” he says, jogging down his front steps.

You turn to see Tom and let out a sigh.

“Oh thank god, I’m starting to lose feeling on my left side. Here,” you place the bigger pumpkin into Tom’s arms.

Your fingers lightly graze his arms, and you quickly look away. Even though he was wearing a sweater, you don’t want to be distracted by his toned muscles and unbelievable strength.

You grab the small pumpkin and lead him back into the house.

“So, pumpkin carvings; want to do them tonight?” Harrison suggests.

“Absolutely!” you shout.

“Perfect, I’ll get the knives and cutters out. Tom…you can just hang around,” Harrison jokes.

“Are you implying I can’t handle myself with a knife?” Tom scoffs.

“Tom, you can barely handle a scissor,” you laugh.

“Anyway, let me go change into something less cute so I don’t get pumpkin guts all over me,” you say, running upstairs.

Harrison grabs the utensils needed and brings them to the living room table.

It’s better to cut the pumpkins there considering you’ll all have more room to maneuver.

Tom grabs towels and lays them on the floor and on the wooden table.

“So, what's your plan, hm?” Harrison asks after a few minutes of silence.

“Plan..?” Tom furrows his eyebrows.

“You know, how are you going to tell Y/N you fancy her?” his teeth graze his bottom lip.

“Oh, fuck off, Haz,” Tom swats the air and straightens out the towel on the table.

“Did you really not think I’d notice?” Harrison asks, offended.

“Well, no, I-I guess not. But I thought you liked her?” he questions.

“I did, but I don’t like her nearly as much as you do. You practically drool over her when she does the slightest thing as look your way!” Harrison adds.

Tom shakes his head, grinding his jaw.

“Don’t pretend like I’m not right,” Haz raises a brow.

But he was right, and Tom knew it. Tom loved absolutely everything you did, and found the smallest things adorable and admirable. You had him insanely whipped.

“And I think she might like you, too,” Harrison spoke up again, plopping on the couch.

“Right, and my name is Bob,” Tom rolls his eyes, sitting on the floor.

“It’s quite amazing how smart and talented you are, yet your common sense is lacking,” Haz laughed.

Tom frowned, shooting him a glare.

“Oh, take the piss once and a while mate. Even though it’s true,” he smirked.

Meanwhile, you were upstairs getting changed into something more comfy. You grabbed a black sweatshirt that might’ve belonged to Tom and snaked it over your head.

The scent lingered in your nose, and you knew right away that it was, in fact, Tom’s.

You smile at the thought, but quickly shake your head.

You can’t like Tom. He’s your absolute best friend, along with Haz. You all have a great thing going, you don’t want to ruin it with false feelings. Besides, he didn’t like you back anyway, right? Right?

There was that one time his hug lasted a little longer than it had; and that day you all went to breakfast and he insisted on sitting across from you. You could have sworn his eyes were burning a hole through you, yet you didn’t mind.

But all those feelings were pushed back when you were set into reality.

It simply wouldn’t be possible to date Tom, with him in the spotlights and expanding his career.

And you’d never hinder his growth with your selfish wants.

You slide on leggings and throw your knotty hair up in a bun. It was about time your hair got out of your face.

You jog down the stairs and see the boys in the living room.

“You ready to carve some pumpkins?!” you exclaim.

The boys yell “Yeah!” making you gush and smile wider than you had been.

You sit on the floor next to Tom, and he scoots over to give you more room.

“Shall we make this more interesting? Maybe hold a contest?” Harrison asks.

“I like it! But wait, there’s three of us here, who’s gonna judge?” you ask.

Harrison pulls out his phone and points it towards the table of pumpkins.

“Okay, so Tom, Y/N and I are about to carve pumpkins. It’s up to you, the viewers, to vote on who’s pumpkin turns out best!” He points towards each pumpkin and when he’s finished recording on what you assume was his instagram video, he begins to frantically tap on his screen. Tom pulls out his phone as well, situating himself in front of the pumpkins and turning his phone facing him.

“So, as you saw in Harrison’s story, or if you’re just viewing my story, Haz, Y/N and I are carving pumpkins. When we’re done I’m going to show them all and you get to pick your favorite!”

Just then, you feel your phone vibrate, signaling a tag from Harrison on his story, and Tom’s follows shortly after.

“I better win...wait, what does the winner get?” you ask.

“Bragging rights..” Harrison says, beginning to carve the top of the pumpkin and remove the seeds.

“No! It should be something legit,” you shake your head and start to ponder.

“Bragging rights AND this pumpkin seed,” Harrison holds up the insides of the pumpkin, causing you to frown.

“Agh, I hate this part of carving!” you yank the top of you pumpkin off and begin to carve inside to remove the slimy seeds.

“How mad would you be if I just put all of this in your hair?” Tom asked cheekily.

“Very mad, Thomas, don’t you dare!” you screech, sliding away from him.

Tom laughs and throws the remnants of the pumpkin into the garbage.

You all decided on carving a traditional face into the pumpkins, but the true test was who’s would look more professionally done.

There was a silence in the room, concentration at an all time high.

“There’s a reason why I’m an actor,” you hear Tom whisper sing-song-like, and you giggle.

He looks over at you and smiles, proud of himself for making you laugh.

He sneaks a glance at your pumpkin, and notices you are doing exceptionally well.

“Well damn, Y/N, when were you going to tell us you had a keen eye for art?” Tom asks.

“A true artist never reveals her secrets,” you wink at him.

Tom could feel a blush creeping up his neck, and quickly looks away from your stare.

Harrison watches your interaction unfold in front of him, baffled at the fact neither of you knew each other’s intentions.

It was about an hour later, and Haz and Tom decided to post pictures of all 3 of the pumpkins on their story, along with a poll.

In the end, your pumpkin came in first, Harrison’s came in second, and Tom’s came in third.

“Rubbish! You guys are supposed to be on my side!” Tom cried on his instagram story.

“Don’t be mad! Your fans recognize true talent!” you taunt, shooting the camera an award winning smile. Tom made a mental note to save that story to his camera roll later.

You and Harrison start cleaning up the mess while Tom adds his finishing touches to his instagram story.

“Your fans are going to go nuts over all the new content,” you note.

“Good, now you won’t be canceled, Tom!” Haz sneers.

“I don’t even know what that means,” Tom folded his arms, “so your words mean nothing.”

“Why don’t you two put the pumpkins on display out in the front? I’ll wash up everything,” Harrison insists.

“You sure, Haz?” you pout.

“Yeah, yeah. Go on,” he shoos you two away.

You look at Tom and shrug, grabbing your pumpkin.

Harrison nods your way to Tom, as if to say “now’s your chance.”

Tom follows you outside with his pumpkin.

The night sky is illuminated by the stars and waning moon, the cool breeze sending shivers down your spine.

“Is this my sweatshirt?” Tom asks, lightly pulling at the hoodie.

“Oh, yeah. You don’t mind, do you?” you ask hesitantly.

“No, course not. What’s mine is yours, darling,” Tom assures you.

You give a cheeky grin and sit on the steps. You pat the spot next to you and Tom complies.

You sigh, looking up at the stars.

Tom takes this time to take in your profile, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips.

“You’re awfully quiet, Tommy,” you whisper, eyes still glued to the stars.

Tom clears his throat.

“Just taking in the view is all,” he admits.

You bring your attention to the brown eyed boy and smile.

“Y/N...there’s something you have to know,” Tom trails off.

“Oh my gosh, you’re pregnant?” you gasp teasingly.

“No, seriously,” Tom averts his eyes and turns his body to you.

“What’s up, Tom?” you ask, growing concerned.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for..quite a while, actually,” he laughs breathily, “and I feel like if I don’t tell you now, it’s just going to consume me. Your presence consumes me, Y/N.”

You blink at him, slowly letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Did Tom just confess his feelings to me? You thought. The corners of your mouth quirk up.

“Well, that makes me feel better about feeling the same way, then,” you confess.

His face perks up at your words and you can see his boyish smile shine through the moon’s light.

“I was hoping you would say that,” he said.

You smile up at him and lean your head on his shoulder.

Harrison watches from the living room window and sighs out, “Fucking finally,” chuckling to himself.

Tom owed Harrison big time for this one.

tags: @hazsterfield @greenarrowhead @toms-darling

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #tom holland blurb #tom holland headcanon #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield blurb #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield headcanon #told you id do it #hazsterfield

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hermionegranger56 · 6 years ago

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Y’ALL i saw Moulin Rouge in Boston with @eyesclosed-blinktwice, in its pre-broadway run and OH BABY! I’ve waited this long to write about it cause i tried to get tickets to see it again (it was THAT good) but i waited too long/lost the ticket lottery a bunch OH WELL. here’s a semi-coherent recap of this spectacular spectacular!

first things first, AARON FUCKING TVEIT. GOD. WHAT A GODDAMN MAN. *deep breath* so I’ve casually loved Aaron Tveit since…2012?? like its been a while?? this, combined with the fact that he’s Broadway royalty made watching him perform live SO SURREAL. like a "wow there’s Aaron Tveit, i can see his face and he’s singing is this real life” kinda vibe. and man did he SLAY this role. I REALLY loved his interpretation of Christian. In act 1 he so effortlessly captures the idealistic dreamer, moving through every number with boundless charm. In act 2 he really delves into Christian’s insecurities and jealousy and truly unravels, which was more interesting than the movie where he kinda just turns into a sad loverboy after Satine goes to the Duke? his chemistry with Karen Olivo is palpable, they played off each other so well, every interaction they had was downright swoon worthy. and speaking of swoon worthy…his VOCALS. I mean I think he’s my favorite male voice on broadway. you couldn’t help but be captivated when he started singing. i MELTED when he sang Your Song, it was so smooth and sweet. he slid through every song in the extended Elephant Love Medley with ease, rocked the Green Fairy/Chandelier number and ACTIVELY MURDERED ME with Roxanne (but more on this later)

and if it wasn’t enough to have one Broadway legend up on stage, we also were graced with queen of everything KAREN OLIVO BABY!! HOOOO BOY IS SHE AMAZING Y’ALL. i mean the SECOND she enters on that trapeze/swing, your eyes were glued to her for the rest of the show, and not just cause she’s always in a dazzling costume. I was 1000% starstruck, like she really is the sparkling diamond. she commands the stage, belting like nobody’s business, her voice is JAWDROPPING. she gave me goosebumps singing goddamn Firework by Katy Perry and if anyone can make me like that song…now THAT is talent hahaha. Karen also really shined in the Shut Up and Dance Medley, in the What’s Love Got to Do With It addition to Elephant Love, and….you know what no, she shined in every number. end of story. I also ADORED Karen’s adaptation of Satine. She is way more strong willed and autonomous, less like the movie-version-delicate-flower. She knows what she wants and is not afraid to get it. I think the fact that they made her know that she was dying really helped add to this. She’s fierce and powerful and tender and loving and DOWNRIGHT AMAZING.

the supporting cast was also INCREDIBLE. Sahr Ngaujah played Toulouse-Lautrec SO WELL, i loved that he was less comedic plot device and more nuanced bohemian artist. He was funny and charming but also heartbreaking, like when he told Christian he once loved Satine. His Nature Boy was haunting. He had one line standing up to the Duke along the lines of “I am an artist sir. You should tremble at that” and it was delivered with such unequivocal POWER that the whole theater cheered. Tam Mutu was great as the Duke, scary and honestly downright hot hahaha I’m glad they made him less of an insufferable fool, more of an actual threat. Danny Burr as Zidler kept the crowd’s energy up (as if we needed it, this show is so high energy its practically a concert!) and was super entertaining. Robyn Hurder is an ASTOUNDING dancer and kills it as Nini and Jeigh Madjus really stands out as the heartbreaking Baby Doll.

the musical was faithful to the original songs, with the omission of One Day I’ll Fly Away (which i missed tbh), Like a Virgin, The Show Must Go On (also missed). The standouts were: Lady Marmalade, which was had the audience singing and dancing right from the start, Elephant Love Medley, which had some amazing additions, was grandiose, and ended with that iconic eiffel tower/umbrella dance. the whole stage was transformed into a starry night, stars even projected onto the theatre ceiling! and of COURSE Come What May, which Aaron and Karen sang with such skill, tenderness and love. IT. WAS. BEAUTIFUL. AND ROXANNE HOOOOO BABY. at first i was apprehensive about just Aaron singing it cause i LOVE the movie version and how everyone’s voices overlap at the end and its NUTS but i was DEAD WRONG. he starts out growling “Roxanne” and it is amazinggg. he really shows Christian lose it while absolutely killing the vocals. my jaw LITERALLY hit the floor when he sang “why does my heart cry, feelings I can’t fight” find audio of it y’all, its insane.

the new songs were also incredible! I was prepared to dislike some, since some were like…hits of 2013. BUT I WAS WRONG. they were so good!! most of them were in a mashup style and the audience cheered when they recognized each song which added to the energy of the show. BY FAR the best was the Act 2 opener, a medley of Bad Romance/Tainted Love/Seven Nation Army/Toxic/Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This). it was high energy, intense, technically perfect and downright SEXY. the dancing was incredible, the lifts were cool (at one point they literally throw Aaron). At the end, the audience clapped for legit a full minute (poor Aaron had to hold a half backbend for it hahah). other faves? Chandelier/Green Fairy, Crazy/Rolling in the Deep and the Duke’s Rolling Stones mashup!

THE SET WAS INDESCRIBABLY BEAUTIFUL. SO SO INTRICATE. The red light up sign, the elephant and windmill in the balconies, the elaborate interiors of the elephant and Christian’s home, it was nearly too much to take in. AND THE COSTUMES specifically every single one of Satine’s glittering numbers. perfect, elegant, STUNNING. Ensemble costumes were also amazing, at one point the lights came up on a group of aristocrats in elaborate pastel outfits and the whole crowd gasped a little!

little things i loved: dancers posing in the balconies before the show even started, the sword eaters, Aaron walking on stage, lifting his hand and the Moulin Rouge sign flying out so that Lady Marmalade can begin, the fact that I’ve now been rick rolled by Aaron Tveit, Karen’s entrances on the swing, Satine telling Zidler “let mama go to work” then strutting offstage, Christian dancing in his seat when Satine is signing Diamonds, the fact that they changed the spectacular from the cultural appropriated mess that it was, Zidler: “let me see your ass!” Christian: *turns around and shows his butt in super tight pants to the crowd*, the confetti, the harmonies in Chandelier (specifically Ricky Rojas’ entrance), the fact that after Satine dies they end the show/do bows to a fun song so you’re not too sad.

safe to say I can’t WAIT till this hits Broadway!!

#moulin rouge #moulin rouge!#moulin rouge boston #moulin rouge broadway #broadway #aaron tveit #karen olivo #sahr ngaujah #danny burr #tam mutu #robyn hurder #jeigh madjus #theatre #musicals #ewan mcgregor #nicole kidman

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glassbangtan · 7 years ago

Text

Dancer {Jung Hoseok}

Words: 3855

Notes: Part 2, perhaps???

Summary: After a video of you dancing to Bangtan goes viral, the boys take notice of it pretty quickly. Specifically, a certain fellow dancer.

Warning: Nothing, really. Mild fluff, I guess, but nothing major.

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

“I just don’t understand why you have to drag me into this.”

"Because, Y/N, you’re the only friend I know that actually has a useful talent,“ Eun, your best friend and Bangtan fanatic, replies, all the while shoving you into the centre of the sidewalk.

Eun was often what people called ‘dramatic.’ A bit of an obsessive when it came to things she loved. It was a chore being around her - one you had taken up only seven years earlier - due to her never ending list of Bangtan related conversation topics that she rang off like a memorised list.

At the beginning, you didn’t mind. You often danced to Bangtan’s songs, learning their choreography because it always got your heart rate pumping, a feeling you had become relatively addicted to over time. But then it became all she cared about.

You never complained - complaining wouldn’t get you anywhere. You let her talk and talk about Namjoon and his 'perfect dimples’ for hours on end, simply listening and commenting with the odd sarcastic comment every now and then.

But today was the day she had taken it all a bit too far - Bangtan were coming back to Korea to play one of the biggest shows of the year, and Eun needed money for her ticket.

Eun could never simply get a part time job or do some chores or take out a small loan for the relatively cheap tickets - she had to take the hard way.

"I get nervous dancing in front of people,” you say, because Eun had decided that she would earn money by making you dance in the middle of the cities square.

"Pretend they’re naked,“ Eun advices, all too casually. "I heard that helps.”

You crinkle your nose up, looking down at your best friend as she messes with the antenna of the old radio she had decided to use. You hadn’t even rehearsed - whatever song she put on, you would have to find some rhythm and simply roll with it.

You groan at the thought, flicking your attention to the large crowd which scattered the city square already at this time of day. Barely anybody took any notice of you, but you knew that would change once you started whatever routine you could pull out in a number of seconds.

"Bultorine.“

Eun jumps up with a squeal and slaps your shoulder roughly. "Go! Go! Go! You know the choreography to this.”

You don’t move. The sound of FIRE runs through your body, the song blasting and making attention turn to you and your best friend. It makes your cheeks flush, and you quickly pull your coats hood on over your head to hide it.

Eun narrows her eyes, sending you a glare. “Are you seriously backing out now?”

"I never agreed to it!“ you nearly yell. "Do you really need tickets that badly that you’re gonna make me embarrass myself in the middle of the city?”

“It won’t be embarrassing if you get it right,” Eun grumbles, before she has thrown her hat on the ground and is twirling around you like some before-show act.

You roll your eyes, no longer able to take the embarrassment of just standing there. You could either distract yourself with dancing, or you could continue to look stupid by simply standing motionless.

And so begins the motions of your body. It takes a while to get into it, the intensity of the choreography being something you hadn’t been prepared for, but by the second chorus, you’re moving along to the song as if you had made up the choreography yourself. It feels good. It feels like you’re being released from an imaginary grip, and you love every moment of it. You barely notice the number of people who stop to look at you, smart phones out as they film your fluid movements. Money gets dropped into Eun’s hat and people are clapping and dancing along to the songs which play on shuffle behind you. Even songs that you hadn’t learned the official choreography to, you make stuff up on the spot.

It’s easy enough when you have been dancing as long as you have. Song after song after song, dance after dance, until you can no longer keep yourself upright due to the exhaustion which catches up to you. As 'Danger’ continues to play behind you, you belch and fall to the floor, gasping for breath which you hadn’t even realised you’d been deprived of until now. Almost as soon as your feet hit the floor, a burst of applause erupts from the crowd which had apparently formed during your performance. You look up weakly, cheeks immediately flushing whenever you see a large number of faces staring at you, grins and applause and all.

It wasn’t what you had expected, but it makes you feel better. You duck your head down to look at the floor, your hair falling into your face to hide the growing blush which crawls up your neck and attacks your cheeks.

“That was incredible!” you hear Eun yelling as she collects up the money the kind passers-by had placed in her hat. It didn’t look like a lot when you initially looked into it, but Eun didn’t seem to mind. She simply wraps a loose arm over your shoulders, grinning from ear to ear as she helps your exhausted and sweaty frame stand up straight again. “God, Y/N. I knew you were a dancer, but you didn’t tell me you’d been practising.”

“I haven’t,” you belch out. “Can we please get something to eat now? I think I might pass out. How long was I dancing for?”

“A good half hour,” she replies, and the numbers make your head spin. Never once had adrenaline caught you that fast and that intense. Dancing always took away your pain, always made you happy, but you could never do such high intensity choreography for so long. You didn’t know what was different on this day that had helped you achieve such a thing.

But that wasn’t what mattered right now. You continued to think of the faces which had looked at you from afar, the smiling children as they clapped along to the songs playing and 'aw'ed at the way you moved your hips and the way your arms worked so well with every other part of your body, even when they weren’t the main focus. It made a warm feeling sprout in the pit of your stomach – you enjoyed seeing people’s happy reactions to your dancing.

Days had passed and Eun had barely brought up the amount of money she had left to collect to be able to afford Bangtan tickets. It was a nice change – you initiated the conversations. You were able to speak about your interests, and you had to give it to your friend – she barely seemed uninterested at all. The odd time she would stop you speaking so she could ask a much needed question about whatever topic you had chosen to talk about, but other than that, she seemed completely willing to listen.

Today was one of the days when the two of you were stuck studying – at least, Eun was. You were no longer in school, though that never stopped you from joining Eun on her studying days. They were the nicer days of the week, the days where you and her could simply sit in her room and enjoy the silence.

You spent this day dancing in the middle of Eun’s bedroom. She lay sprawled out on her bed, tapping away on her laptop with an array of open notebooks flooding around her. Textbooks written in English, textbooks with shapes scribbled on the inside with writing you would never be able to decipher even if you had studied these particular subjects.

The music played away in your earphone and you let it take over. Ever since your performance in the city square, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself. Anytime you would play music, an entire choreography would come along with it.

Your music played in your ear so loud that you barely heard Eun screaming from her bed. If it wasn’t for the sudden thump which shook the floor as your best friend fell off the edge of her bed, you would never have noticed it.

You yelp, yanking the headphone from your ear and turning to look at Eun with a startled expression. She gazes up at her phone which hangs above her face, her eyes wide and her jaw open.

“My God, Eun,” you snap. “You scared the-”

“You are a gift sent from God, Y/N L/N!” Eun exclaims, hopping up suddenly. You watch her, narrowed eyes as she quickly types something into her phone before thrusting it into your grip. You stumble, catching it before it falls as Eun goes back to doing a small happy dance in the middle of her room.

You look down at the smashed screen in your hand, reading the email through the cracks:

Hi! This is Bangtan Seonyondan’s tour manager – if we are correct, the boys will be playing a show in your city this week. We recently came across a video which consisted of your friend – with whom we can’t seem to find the email to – dancing to a number of Bangtan’s songs. The boys were beyond impressed and would want nothing more than to meet you and the girl in question. We have organised tickets to be given to you, alongside backstage passes so the boys can meet you. If this isn’t too much trouble, please get in touch with us to arrange details and confirm the meeting.

Thanks!

Bangtan Management.

For a second, you’re almost positive it’s a prank. There’s nothing else it can be – it certainly can’t be real. You knew people had filmed you that day, but for the videos to go as far as Bangtan’s own management? It didn’t seem likely.

But the more you read it, the more you searched for a reason for it to be fake, any evidence that it was a hoax, the less that showed up. The business email it had come from seemed legit, and it was no secret that Eun’s email was littering all Bangtan fan cafe’s and websites due to her obsession with getting noticed by them.

“Your video!” Eun continues to yell as you finally look up from the screen. You’re completely speechless, your hand beginning to shake with nerves and excitement and disbelief – all rolled into one, massive array of emotions that makes you feel like you could nearly break down in tears.

“A-Are you going to reply?” you ask, timidly. Eun stops jumping and scoffs.

“I already have. We’re going to Bangtan’s concert on Saturday night, Y/N. And it’s all thanks to you!”

Screaming girls. Signs being waved left right and centre. A massive stage placed almost with no thought in the middle of it all.

And then there was you; a single person amongst thousands who had shown up to the stadium for todays concert. All you had done was dance to their songs – girls must have done that all the time. It wasn’t like there was no such thing as BTS dance covers, but for some reason, yours had been chosen to be noticed.

It made you feel – something. Something was certainly brewing in the pit of your stomach as you tapped your foot idly, security guards keeping a close eye on you and Eun as the two of you wait back stage for the boys show to finish. You had been given the best view in the house – directly beside the stage, and yet not one of the boys had spoken two words to you the entire night.

You didn’t blame them. Eun certainly wasn’t making the two of you look approachable with the screaming and crying she had been doing on and off for the past two hours.

She had dolled up for this specific occasion, a fact you were not surprised to see. Her cleavage showed and spilled over the top of her tank top, along with a pair of denim shorts and converse. Her make up was done to an impeccable finish which had gained multiple comments already, and her hair was pulled into the neatest up-do you had ever seen her attempt.

Then there was you in your green bomber jacket and skinny jeans, a pair of boots being the fanciest thing you had worn tonight. You didn’t know how concerts worked, so when you showed up to see a bunch of teenage girls wearing very little clothing, it was quite a firm shock to the system.

But then the screaming was stopping and the boys were flooding into the backstage area after disappearing under the floor of the main stage. You shuffle into the back of the crowd of staff members, hugging your arms around your waist as you try to make yourself as small as possible – you didn’t realise how nervous you would feel at this opportunity. You were the one they wanted to meet, so why did you feel so worked up?

Eun was the opposite. As soon as the show had ended and the lights had dimmed, she was craning her neck over the crowd and waving at random people who were walking in from the main stage – the sound technician seemed all too interested in her, smiling and talking her through the process of what makes a BTS show.

In no time, she had been led off and you were left on your own backstage.

That was until your eyes joined his.

You had heard of him before – of course you had – but seeing him in person was a completely different thing. Seeing the suit he was wearing, the sweat dripping off the ends of his hair and the way his make up seemed to run just that little bit, revealing only a sneak peak of his natural skin. He rubbed a towel on the back of his neck, his eyes already on you when you looked up.

He was smiling. Why was he smiling? You were half tempted to look over your shoulder, completely lost as to what he could possibly find so interesting about the shy girl standing in the corner.

“You must be Y/N,” you hear Hoseok say, confirming all suspicions that he had seen you and it was far too late for you to try and make a run for it.

Numbly, you nod your head. You aren’t sure if you’re smiling or not, or if you’re frowning or if you’ve even moved when he is standing in front of you at last. Maybe it’s his good looks, or the way he completely and utterly seems like a normal person, but you can barely feel anything at this moment.

“I saw your friend backstage a while ago,” Hoseok continues, chuckling as he thinks of Eun. “She seems-”

“Sorry,” you blurt out, not entirely sure what you’re apologising for. “She can be a bit much for some people. She’s just a really big fan.”

Hoseok narrows his eyes, letting the towel slip from his fingers so it falls onto the sofa at the side of you two. “She’s the big fan? I thought it would be you. I saw your video and I was -” He shakes his head, his eyes wide. “I was in awe. I’ve never seen someone dance so long, and not once did you lose the rhythm. You have a real talent.”

A blush creeps onto your cheeks before you can stop it. You smile to yourself, looking down at your boots and it is only then do you realise just how underdressed you must look when standing next to him. Tall, slender, a suit pulled firmly over his shoulders that he had just danced in for two hours. He was the dancer – you were the fan who had made a cover of his songs.

“I’m a fan,” you say without looking up. Hoseok notices this small quirk of yours – the lack of eye contact – but is polite enough to stay silent. “But Eun definitely loves you guys. The only reason I was dancing was so she could earn money to get tickets for the show tonight.”

Hoseok’s eyes widen. “Really? Well, this worked out perfectly, then! How much did you make?”

You hollow out your cheeks. “Not a lot. Not enough. She was happy, though, so I guess that’s a good thing.”

Hoseok nods his head gently, a small smile gracing his lips that seems genuine. It was genuine. He had never before met such a talented person who had no idea just how talented they were. He knew himself he was a good dancer – he never failed to tell people that fact about himself, because it was something of himself he was proud of. He had worked for years to be at the level he was at now, so why not show it off? Why keep it hidden beneath a layer of modesty that he didn’t even need?

But as he looked down at you now, he realises that you genuinely don’t seem to know the extent of your talents. It’s not everyday he stumbles across somebody who knows how to dance to his choreography almost perfectly for thirty minutes straight, without showing any evidence of fatigue.

Not even the members could do that, and it was their choreography.

Without thinking of what he was doing, Hoseok had began to giggle. You look up, curiosity getting the better of you and you find yourself gradually melting when your eyes meet his. There’s amusement in them – amusement that was always there, just never to the extent it was now. You narrow your eyes, tilting your head only a fraction to the side as if to question Hoseok on what is so funny.

He smiles at you, nods behind him, grabs your hand and is dragging you through backstage in seconds. You yelp, stumbling after him as he bombards through a crowd of staff who all claw for him to sit down and get out of his clothes so they can head back to the hotel, but he ignores almost all of them. He continues to giggle that high pitched giggle as he leads you through the winding corridors, and before long, the two of you have stopped in a large, spacious room that you hadn’t seen during the tour you had been given.

“Where are we?” you ask, apprehensively. Hoseok lets go of your hand and twirls into the centre of the room, bursting his arms out around him as if that explained everything.

“This, my talented friend, is the practice room of the studio,” he replies, letting his hands flourish down. You watch him closely as he pulls his cellphone from his inside pocket and begins to swipe through his music folder.

“Are you not exhausted?” you ask. “You’ve just been dancing for two hours straight.”

Hoseok looks up as he finally picks a song – MAMA, by him, one of your favourite songs – and smiles. “Seeing a fellow dancer has given me adrenaline. You know the choreography?”

You find yourself smiling, your legs and arms already working away at the steps you had so long ago memorised. Hoseok chuckles as you bound into the centre of the room, and soon, the two of you are in perfect sync, dancing to the beautiful tune which he sings along to as the two of you make the jumps and the steps perfect.

You feel so unbelievably free in this moment. The music floods you, just like they always say it does. Being around Hoseok, catching the small glimpses of his own skill as you weave around the practice room together, gives you that little bit more adrenaline. Because he certainly isn’t a rookie. The way his hips move and the way he perfectly keeps in beat with the song, the intensity of it all, says it all.

But he’s thinking the exact same thing about you. He’s shocked. The choreography had been made by him on his own, and so it was obviously difficult. It was an experts level, so seeing you fly through it with so much certainty in every step and so much courage as you smile up at the roof – it’s strange for him to see. It’s refreshing, almost.

The music comes to a stop all too soon. You finish with the ending pose, before you bound upwards, excitement fuelling you in this moment. Hoseok grunts, falling onto one knee as he attempts to catch his breath, looking up at you in shock as you continue to jump around, doing random twirls in the air as little giggles escape your mouth.

“There has to be something wired wrong in your system,” Hoseok comments, making you pause to look at him. “I’m exhausted. That choreography-”

“We should do Fire next,” you say, grinning from ear to ear. “That’s the one I’m best at.”

“That wasn’t your best?”

You shrug. “It’s my favourite song, if that helps.” Hoseok flushes, the compliment meaning more to him than he would ever admit. You chuckle, folding your arms over your chest. “I can teach you some of my own choreography.”

Hoseok narrows his eyes, slumping down fully on the floor. “You make your own choreography?”

“To other peoples songs,” you confirm. “I just – I dunno. Sometimes the beat goes better with something else in my head, so I do it. I usually end up coming out with something completely different to the original, but I’m pretty proud of what I come up with. I can show you if you want.”

And Hoseok doesn’t know why he agrees, because he’s tired, and he’s busy and he knows full well that the other boys will tease him beyond anything when they find out, but he agrees. He stands up and he lets you take him through each and every individual move you had come up with purely on a whim, counting the steps so easily.

You don’t know why you enjoy yourself so much, either. Because you’re a shy girl. You spend your life locked in your room, listening to music and making up random choreography for each song which comes on shuffle, but the way Hoseok listens and the way his body moves and the way he smiles at you has you feeling something that makes you just want to see it all more often. You want to see his smile more often, you want to see him work his body around your choreography more often, you want to see him more often, and the feeling is weird and scary but you thrive off of the adrenaline it feeds you.

You don’t want this to be the end. Either does Hoseok.

#sfwbangtan #bts writing #hoseok fanfic #hoseok x reader #bts fluff #fluffy #hoseok fluff #idol verse #jhope x reader #jhope fluff #jhope fanfic #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #my writing #bangtan fanfic #jhope imagine #hoseok imagine #jhope scenario #hoseok scenario

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jonasmaurer · 5 years ago

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a taste of the Big Apple

Hi friends! How are you? We’re back from an amazing girls’ weekend to NYC. Liv has been asking us to take her for years and since I had a companion pass that expired in January, we decided to go for it.

We left Friday morning and got into LGA around 10pm. We were both hangry so we literally had a midnight snack at the hotel: avocado toast for her and a turkey burger with sweet potato fries for me.

We stayed at the Hyatt Centric in Times Square. I did a little bit of hotel research and chose this one because it had awesome reviews, a great location, and wasn’t bananas expensive. It’s close to lots of shops, restaurants, Times Square (obvs) and the theatres. We got an AMEX platinum card earlier this year – we use a few different cards for miles and points – and wish we would have enrolled sooner. It is AMAZING. You get awesome perks and benefits (like free entrance into many airport lounges for yourself and 2-3 guests) and the travel benefits. I booked our hotel through AMEX travel and the rates on the site were much lower than the other rates I found online. You also get free hotel upgrades upon arrival (they upgraded us to a bigger room on a higher floor), early check-in, late checkout, and hotel credit at certain hotels. We got a $100 credit, so room service twice was free. I’m not affiliated with AMEX in any way, but if you’ve been scoping out the platinum card, my referral link is here. We loooooove it.

After our midnight snack, we crawled into bed and woke up the next morning ready for a full day of adventure. After a quick breakfast, we spent some time walking around Rockefeller Plaza, hitting up the enormous American Girl store, LEGO, and FAO Schwartz. We walked over to the New Amsterdam theatre for our first show: Aladdin.

TBH I didn’t have super high hopes for Aladdin. We’ve seen the animated version at least a thousand times, the live-action version a handful of times, and while I love Disney and LOVE Broadway, I didn’t know if I’d be thrilled with it. (I was just trying to find some kid-friendly shows that Liv would enjoy so she’d fall in love with Broadway forever.) I was thrilled with it. It was so different from the animated version and the cast was insane. The genie. You guys, the genie is a pure masterpiece of a human. He’s hilarious and incredibly talented. Friend Like Me was maybe 15 minutes long and I never wanted it to end!

Interesting fact: the man who played Jafar is the SAME GUY who voiced the animated character. He was also brilliant. The whole cast was wonderful and I loved that they made it a little different (and way more entertaining) than the animated version.

After Aladdin and our lunch of popcorn, M&Ms and skittles, we dropped all of our shopping goodies off at the hotel, added some layers (beanies, tights under our pants, and gloves), then walked over to Bryant Park to spend the rest of the night ice skating and exploring the Christmas shops.

(That’s a waffle with Nutella, marshmallows and strawberries)

Bryant Park is one of the many things that makes me want to live in NYC. During the holidays, it’s magical. There are little shops and food stops surrounding the ice skating rink. (Pro tip: get your ice skating tickets online so you can book a skate time in advance and avoid the giant line.) We had dinner at Fever-Tree because it was heated – it was chilly! – and then skated for 2 hours. Liv was a bit apprehensive at first, but within 20 minutes, she was skate-RUNNING around the rink and I was chasing to catch up with her haha. Let it be known that I managed to avoid falling by some stroke of luck.

Saturday morning, we had hotel room service while we got ready:

(they had banana almond meal pancakes that were fantastic)

and then caught a cab to the Museum of Natural History. This was my first time at this museum and I was blown away by the exhibits. The animals and dinosaurs were massive and we walked around for 2 hours, jaws on the floor pretty much the entire time. It was really cool to explain some parts of history to Liv that she hasn’t learned about in school yet, and I learned a lot of new facts surrounding cultures, animals, and their habitats. I’d definitely pop it in the “must-do” list for NYC with kids. (Note: I bought our tickets online in the cab on the way there and it was another easy way to skip out on the giant line to get in.)

We walked around in Central Park for a little while, and then caught a cab to the Gershin Theatre for Wicked.

Wicked is one of my favorite musicals of all-time and I was really hoping that Liv would love it. As soon as it ended, she told me she wanted to see it again. I’ve seen it maybe 8 times now and don’t ever think I’ll be sick of the story or the music, and I think that this Elphaba was my favorite one.

Here’s a little video of her singing for morning enjoyment.

youtube

(Fun Broadway tidbit: I went to high school with Ben who’s the phantom on Broadway and was in a couple of shows with Sean who’s starring in Beetlejuice. He was Captain Hook when we did Peter Pan and I was a male pirate— a glimpse into the future for how our respective acting careers would transpire lol.)

After Wicked, we were ready for dinner, so we walked over to Don Antonio’s for the best pizza of our lives. They make legit Napoli-style wood-fired pizza, and the gluten-free pizza was like REAL PIZZA: doughy and briny and perfect.

Liv loved the margherita pizza and we also shared a fresh salad with arugula, balsamic, and tomatoes.

During dinner, we talked about how much we loved the show and both agreed we wanted to see another one. So, we ran down to TKTS and got cheap 5th-row seats for Frozen. I felt very similarly about Frozen as I did to Aladdin (not on my personal “must watch” list but really wanted to pick shows Liv would be into) and ended up loving it. They also had some small twists to the story and the cast was fantastic.

We walked around Times Square, enjoying the commotion and the lights, and came back to the hotel around 11.

Monday morning, we caught our flight back to Tucson! It was a whirlwind of a trip – and we really only had two full days there! – but I think we absolutely lived it up. The best part: Liv is already begging the Pilot to let us move out there.

It would be pretty easy for him to fly out of LGA or JFK, just sayin’.

I thought I’d share two things that made this trip way easier:

– This inflatable booster seat. While I wouldn’t use this for daily transportation, it’s perfect for traveling. Let it be known that I’m the person that sucks at blowing up balloons (it takes me like 20 years), but I could inflate this in 20 seconds. It gave Liv the perfect little boost in the taxi to and from the airport and also to and from the museum on Sunday. Since I had it with us, it also made the perfect booster seat for our shows on Sunday. (They offer boosters to the kiddos but they go quickly for matinees. It was convenient to have our own!) It folds up and fits in your backpack, and I just carried it in our shopping bag that day.

– These boots. (Most similar one is here!) Easy Spirit reached out to see if I’d like a pair of shoes. I usually delete or decline free product offers because I feel like it’s wasteful and sometimes brands request multiple posts about their $20 salad spinner or whatever and I’d rather just buy and share what I like… but I thought these were cute for winter. Most of my boots aren’t very comfortable for all-day walking, are too fancy, or too high. I ended up wearing these every day we were there, fresh out of the box, and no breaking them in. (Yes, a risky move.) I liked that they were cute enough to wear to a show, but comfortable enough to walk around in all day, and didn’t give me a single blister. Wins all around.

(with these jeans, this jacket <— on sale, and this sweater)

(with these jeans and similar sweater)

I really enjoyed a special weekend with Liv and had such a wonderful time with her; something I’ll always remember. I think NYC is still a bit too much walking for P and the shows might have been a tad long for her. Also, since her eardrum ruptured she can’t fly again for a couple more weeks.

She had the best weekend with the Pilot and it was fun that they got to spend some time together. He took her to Chuck E Cheese, jumping at Get Air, to a birthday party, and to Friendsgiving at Kyle and Meg’s house. I missed that little goose so much!!

Now we’re back in town with the fam and I’m starting to get pumped for Thanksgiving. This morning, I’m off to tackle my exploding inbox and get some work stuff done before a fun crafting party with friends.

Have a wonderful day and I’ll see ya soon!

Gina

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bryanllamado · 7 years ago

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Lit Up

It has been 2 weeks (as of writing) since this year’s biggest and brightest party in the university. Well, I have gotten over with the (side effects of) party but it seems like it was just yesterday when this party happened. It was a night filled with balloons, laser lights, glow sticks, mocktails and wild music. Finally! The ultimate walwal event from USC (University Student Council) that I’ve been waiting for is here–kinda reminds me of last year’s Toga x Euphoria 2.0 which I attended as well. With this entry, let me recount how that night went for me and my friends.

Lit Up is an event created by the USC featuring Deuce Manila (Patty Tiu) and DJ Carlo Atendido. It also featured performances by some of the university’s performing arts group and organizations like Eunice Ocampo, Kabanata, Fluffy Unicorn, The Undrgrnd, DLSU-D Chorale, DLSU-D Symphonic Band, TEATRO Lasalliana, Lasallian Pop Band, La Salle Filipiniana Dance Company and Lasallian Pointes N Flexes. #LitUp

12th of May – Friday

After Radiate, Lit Up is the next event that my friends and I are eyeing–as it features to well-known DJs especially Patty Tiu. Since the event features DJs, I knew then that it will be a ‘walwal’ one–the kind of event that I’ve been waiting for. But after a few weeks, my friends started refusing the idea because of other matters (and a friend of ours told us that one of the DJs performed in their school as well and is not THAT good) so I had the idea of going alone. Why not? I can still party and dance the night away, even by my lonesome. #SarilingSikap

There are no tickets but there are PCFs which comes with a catch–you purchase a school supply worth 20 bucks (which will be a donation) and you get your PCF in exchange. In short, it’s kind of like a walwal with a cause which I highly commend. I made up my mind to still go alone but some of my college friends are interested with the event. I wouldn’t mind going alone but it’s not bad either to have some company with you, right? So there, I went to the event with Tin and Nica–who are also my Radiate and Kabarato 9 buddies.

I first went to my friends’ dorm outside the campus and left my bags there because I know–for a fact–that the event is going to end late. I reached ULS and waited for my friends; lined up for registration and got myself a laser light. Before we entered ULS, we took several shots (and by shots, I mean photos) at the van / photo booth setup outside. The setup is sort of ‘artsy’ and of the blogger type–with a vintage kind of van, with matching vintage pieces and a bicycle. Here are some of my favorite photos:

When we entered ULS, the first thing I noticed were the balloons. There are a lot of white balloons on the floor so it seemed like some legit metro themed walwal event. My friends and I continued the mandatory photoshoot. There is also a mobile mocktail bar and a booth offering Oishi goodies. We are also accompanied by Clarisse and Errol while Mynette and Anne followed afterwards. The performing arts groups and organizations took the stage by their energy-filled production and intermission number which pumped up the audience. I relaxed on the floor as I watch the university’s homegrown bands and dancers.

I went back and forth from the mobile bar and the Oishi booth for food to eat and drinks to suffice my thirst. It wasn’t long until the walwal part formally started–my friends and I started popping balloons and dancing to the beat. I attached the laserlights to my fingers and raged (in the millennial way). This must’ve been the wildest event I have attended this year (as in) though I have to mention that the crowd is smaller compared to Radiate and Kabarato. Nonetheless, I still enjoyed the event with good photographs taken and the EDM genre that I loved since day one.

DJ Carlo Atendido took the stage first. His set list contained a few familiar tunes and some beat drops which sent the crowd to the party mode. I appreciated his mixes and spins; he also has a drum like instrument at the side. He connected well with the crowd. *hands down* What I love most about his set list is that he infused old songs like It’s My Life yet the lineup of songs remained intact–he even played Drake’s Fake Love and a few rap songs. That time, my friends and I started getting in the right groove and danced to hilarious yet fun dance moves.

Deuce Manila is the night’s final act. I am in awestruck with her looks and appeal–she looks like Liza Soberano in short hair with matching tattoos on her right arm. *jaw drop* Unlike the former DJ, Deuce’s set list contained mostly of beats and music and a lot less lyrics. Though I didn’t appreciate the music that much (as there are no lyrics to sing along to), I still had a great time partying with my fellow Lasallians. Patty Tiu’s music reflects those that sell well in the clubs in the Metro–the ‘let’s dance the night away’ type of sound. We also bumped into our fellow COEd students during that night.

My friends and I noticed that the momentum of the rave has slowed down and did not finish the event. We decided to leave the place; I rushed to my friends’ place to get my things and go home. Disclaimer: I have always been fond of raves; basta walwal, okay sa’kin so I didn’t mind going home late. I had the best time dancing with my friends and singing along to the great music. This is definitely the type of program that I need to end the semester on a high note–which is also for a good cause. #WalwalWithACause It felt dreamlike to dance to DJ Carlo Atendido and Deuce Manila’s tunes and it served as another eminent first time for me.

I’ll never get tired of living in the moment and being present in parties like this! I’m looking forward to more events like Lit Up–which is more like Lit AF for me. I also like to give a shoutout to the performing arts group which served as front acts to the 2 DJs. You never disappoint. Thank you for sharing your talents with us; hope to be one of you in the near future. Kudos! #TatakLasalyano Need I say more? Check out this after movie created by USC for you to get a glimpse of what I felt end experienced that night:

Thank you DJ Carlo Atendido and Deuce Manila a.k.a. Patty Tiu!

Till the next walwal! Bry x 052517

#uncat #article #blog #blogging #blogger #journal #life #personal #writer #writing #dj carlo atendido #deuce manila #patty tiu

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jxffhxrdy · 5 years ago

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Raw 5/11/2020

Hey guys! Back again with opinions (that you didn’t ask for) on Monday Night Raw tonight- 5/11/2020. So let’s get into it! Again, I am not related to WWE in any way so what I say is not bible.

So, first of all, let’s get the most important thing out of the way. BECKY LYNCH IS PREGNANT Y’ALL!! Lowkey, kinda saw this coming? One, I think we’re about to see a lot of quarantine babies popping up haha. Second, the way they said she had a “big announcement”- what else could it have been? Huge congrats to her and Seth. I know she’ll be a great mom.

Alright, on with the rest of the show!

♡Asuka is now the RAW Womens Champion!

Duh. She was going to get it whether she fought Becky or not. Am I happy about that? Meh. I wanted it to go to Nia Jax, but Asuka is very talented and well deserving, so kudos. She has a bajillion wins under her belt- let’s get her an elimination chamber match too! I really liked how they did the pass off though. I thought it was super cute, very professionally done, and I didn’t feel like it “wasted” the briefcase. I was semi-hoping for Becky to hand over the belt and Asuka to hand the briefcase to someone else, but I’ll take what we got and keep my mouth shut. Looking forward to Asuka’s first feud (which is probably Shayna and will probably give us a Backlash match). Cute nod to Kairi too, glad WWE remembers she exists.

♡Angel Garza vs. Austin Theory vs. Akiri Tozawa?

Okay, so we all knew the download of Zelina’s clique was coming, but my question is- where did Tozawa come from? Who was he supposed to be fighting? Was his main opponent Garza? They were all in the ring at different times, then there was a poorly timed commercial break and I’m just all so confused. I’m kinda intrigued about how they are going to split up the group, but in no way excited for Garza and Theory. Frankly, I just don’t care. I think they got pushed up from NXT way too quickly, Theory especially. If one of them gets Andrade’s belt... let’s just say there will be some unhappy tweets sent out from me. Just when we thought this match was done....

♡Andrade (c) vs. Drew McIntyre (c) (MVP)

A champion versus champion match! And on the first show after a PPV! We love to see it. Andrade is very talented and I can definitely see him moving off midcard (even though he has the title, he’s still midcard y’all) and doing awesome things. Anything Drew McIntyre touches is gold. You could put him in a match with just about anyone and he’d make it great. He is such a talented performer, so passionate with every kick, punch, and promo and I just adore him. I don’t know a single person who thinks he is undeserving of his title (and if you do think he’s undeserving... who hurt you). I don’t really know why Drew got involved in the weird Zelina Clique fight in the first place, but I’m not complaining. I think they’re just getting some heat off of Drew before his next big feud. Regardless, my MVP of the night. Unlike the actual MVP, who sucked. Buttttt anyway...

♡Alexa Bliss/Nikki Cross (c) vs. The IIconics

YES. BRING BACK A GOOD TAG TEAM, THANK YOU WWE. Are the IIconics annoying? Yes. But they’re supposed to be. That’s the whole point of their characters. Regardless of that, they are a legit tag team and they do amazing work together. They have fantastic chemistry that isn’t forced- like Bliss/Cross. The match was great, I love an IIconics win, and I’m hoping they’re the ones to dethrone the current champs. Still annoyed by Alexa Bliss, sue me.

♡Whatever the hell the MVP match was

I cannot stand this. Truthfully. I don’t even care much to write about it. The only one I give a shit about here is R-Truth and even sometimes I think he’s too much (like tonight). He needs to be focused on the 24-7 title and kicking Gronk’s ass and MVP needs to just... go away. And take Bobby Lashley with him. Ever since the whole tire bit a few weeks ago, Bobby Lashley is a full joke. I don’t want him in a title picture or doing anything besides dumb backstage shit. Also- Lana should’ve been let go instead of Rusev after that promo. Woof. Please, just take them away.

♡Aleister Black/Rey Mysterio vs. Seth Rollins/Murphy

Woof. This match. Okay, for one, kinda sucks they didn’t make Aleister Black and Rey Mysterio undead, because that would’ve been rad. But second roof makes sense. I just like undead storylines. So Black and Mysterio come out all cute and what not, then we get to Seth/Murphy. I have NO idea what they’re doing with Seth’s character, not even a slight clue. I thought he was all like this because he’s a new dad? But nah, I think this is like some AJ Styles PTSD thing. I honestly couldn’t even tell you about how the fighting was, because of how locked on I was to Seth. The second Seth got involved I went from 0 to 60. Seth is just an amazing performer and my jaw was on the floor. Like Drew, everything he touches is golden.The thing that I think got me here (in a good way) was the eye thing with Mysterio. My heart fucking d r o p p e d. I know it’s rumored that Mysterio is on his way out and I just know it’s going to end with him unmasking. The second I saw blood, I knew they were going to have to take his mask off. They cannot and they should not have Mysterio unmask and retire in an empty show. They need to hold off and let him retire in front of a sold out show. This man has had a golden career, he’s a future hall of famer, and needs that respect. I thought this match was well done by both sides, loved the Black/Mysterio friendship, and the new tension between Rollins/Murphy. Great. Good showing.

♡Shayna Baszler vs. Natalya

What is with WWE and giving Natalya losing matches? She’s so much better than that. That queen is a Hart, damn it, but you know Vince believes that Bret screwed Bret, so I guess Vince screwed Natalya is on the table now. I know they’re setting up Baszler to be Asuka’s first feud, it’s a tad obvious, but I hated that this fight came because of motherhood? Like what the hell was that. You could’ve done Baszler believing she had to fight her way through the female Raw roster to prove herself or something like that. But Motherhood is a tad soap opera- and we already got that with the Rollins fight. Snooze.

♡Edge vs. Orton Standoff

Alright, so I want to give this its own little section because I have a lot of feelings. This is obviously a rating grab. The Edge/Orton thing died at Wrestlemania with that hour long match. It felt like a really good finish and was good for both performers. Then they announce “Edge is going to chase the Viper”, which is just... overkill. It’s because they feel they have no one else on their card big enough to feud with one of them? Which is crap! Feed Edge to Drew! Give Orton a match with Seth to avenge his old buddy Mysterio. Just stop overputting these two legends together like this because it will truly never end. If Orton wins the next match, then Edge can just turn around and say “well I’m not done either!” and it will drag. I was so hoping for a friends ending, but... ugh. I love both of these performers, but I hate dead end circle feuds.

♡General Thoughts

-What the fuck was that Lana promo and why did it suck so bad?

-First match announced for Backlash 2020: Edge vs. Orton in a “regular wrestling match” whatever that means. Will probably be the main event or one of them.

-Brand vs. Brand match next week with Drew McIntyre and King Corbin. Love this. Love both of these performers, I think they’re going to do some great stuff together. Corbin is most likely getting his ass beat, but I hope this is a forward to giving Corbin the Intercontinental title. I just need it off Sami Zayn.

-Goddamn, I love Drew McIntyre.

-We didn’t have a single roll-up finish all night! God bless America.

-Seriously, what the fuck was that Lana promo?

Anyway, hope you all have a great night and I will see everyone on Wednesday for AEW and Friday for Smackdown!

#raw #monday night raw #wwe raw #mythoughts

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