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thewidowsghost · 2 years

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Ashes - Chapter 1

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"Oh, wait, I gotta show you pictures," Nini says as she, her twin sister (Y/n), and Kourtney walk down the hall. Nini pulls out her phone, unlocking it and showing it to Kourtney excitedly. Nini then shows the picture to (Y/n) who chuckles.

"Nin, I was there," (Y/n) says, nudging her sister amusedly.

Nini grins. "Okay, um . . . Oh, and this was my costume in Act Two," Nini goes on, showing Kourtney another picture.

"Flawless. Love it," Kourtney replies, looking over Nini's shoulder.

"Ooh!" Nini scrolls down to another picture. "Uh, oh, this is the wig that almost fell off in the middle of my ballad."

"And this," Nini hands Kourtney her phone, and (Y/n) peers over her shoulder at Nini's phone.

"Oh, I know who that is, Nini," Kourtney says, zooming in on the picture of Nini's boyfriend.

"Girl, I am like 0.2 seconds away from making that my lock screen," Nini says as she and (Y/n) open their lockers.

"I can't tell if you're glowing or you're sunburnt," Kourtney comments, looking amused.

"Definitely glowing," Nini says with a smile. "Yeah, I had the best summer. Ever."

"And what does you-know-who have to say about this?" Kourtney asks, raising an eyebrow and hands Nini back her phone.

(Y/n) winces, throwing an arm around her older twin's shoulders and squeezing gently.

"I'm waiting for the right time to tell him," Nini replies, glancing warmly up at her taller sister.

"Yo, Nini! What's good?" comes a familiar voice that makes (Y/n) frown angrily.

"How do you feel right now?" Kourtney asks softly as Nini stands awkwardly in her sister's embrace.

Nini looks up at (Y/n), nods, and (Y/n) gives her sister another squeeze before she steps back, letting Nini face her ex-boyfriend.

"Hey," Ricky chuckles weakly.

"Hey," Nini says, and (Y/n) can tell how uncomfortable her sister is. There is a silence for a moment before she speaks again. "Um . . ." she swallows thickly. "Can we talk?" There is another awkward pause. "I met somebody else at camp. I - I didn't plan . . ."

"Wait. Wait, is this a joke?" Ricky asks.

"Still talking here?" Nini says before (Y/n) can snap back.

"Oh, snap!" Kourtney comments.

"I met someone at camp," Nini goes on. "Uh, I didn't plan for it to happen, but it happened. He was the Music Man, I was Marian, the librarian. It's called a showmance."

"Wait, you went to librarian camp?" Big Red, who is standing slightly behind Ricky asks. "That's a thing?"

Ricky lifts a hand to stop Big Red. "Please . . ." Ricky turns back to Nini. "Tell me you're joking."

"I'm not," Nini replies. "Come on, Ricky. You know what you did!" Nini pauses, looking a little harassed. "Or what you didn't do."

. . .

Do my feet stink?" Ricky asks, his head resting on Nini's knee. "Cause I feel like my feet stink."

"No," Nini replies, her eyes sparkling from the dim light of the room.

"Sort of," Nini replies, with a grin a moment later.

"Yeah?" Ricky asks.

"I think it's cute," Nini says, leaning down to kiss Ricky.

"Yeah?" Ricky asks. "Okay. And that's why we work." Ricky goes back to his phone, and Nini chuckles.

"Check your Instagram," Nini says, pointing at Ricky's phone.

"What?" Ricky asks.

The brunette sits up, looking down at his phone.

Ricky begins to stiffen as the song goes on.

"I do, Ricky," Nini murmurs, leaning closer to her boyfriend. "I love you."

Ricky looks up from his phone, his eyes wide with shock. "Oh," is the boy's reply.

. . .

"Good morning, students," an announcer says over the intercom as Ricky stares at Nini in shock." Please make your way to the gym for our annual back-to-school kickoff."

"I don't believe this," Ricky says, shaking his head, taking a step forward. "You're blowing me off for some theater punk you met four weeks ago? At a lake?"

(Y/n) fixes a steely (E/c) gaze on Ricky, and the boy steps back a little at her glare.

"You kinda dumped me!" Nini snaps back.

"It was a break," Ricky replies. "It wasn't a break-up."

"I'm sorry, Ricky," Nini says. "But it's a break-up now."

"Pop off, girl," Kourtney says and (Y/n) bites back a laugh.

"Stay out of it, Kourtney," Big Red replies.

"You stay out of it," Kourtney snaps. "I'm dismantling the patriarchy this year, and I'm not afraid to start with you."

A snicker leaves (Y/n), and she grabs her sister's hand, pulling her gently along to the assembly.

"You crushed it," Kourtney says. "That could not have gone better."

(Y/n) grins.

"Hey, Kourtney," a girl in the halls, and Kourtney nods to them.

. . .

"And I am pleased to announce that this year, seniors will be allowed to wear baseball hats on Fridays," the principal says and there is no reaction. "And now for a special introduction. This year, East High has a new drama teacher with an announcement that she swore, in writing, would not cost too much money."

(Y/n) and Nini clap as the new teacher walks out to stand beside the principal's lectern, pulling along a latino boy.

"Please hold your applause," the blond woman says.

The woman pulls a t-shirt cannon from behind the lectern, aims the cannon, and shoots a t-shirt into the bleachers.

"Go, Wildcats!" the woman yells. (Y/n) catches the shirt, a look of confusion on her face. "Yeah," the drama teacher says, handing the boy beside her the cannon, and (Y/n)'s eyes dance with amusement. "My name is Miss Jenn," the blonde goes on, "and when I heard that the high school where High School Musical was shot had never staged a production of High School Musical. I was . . . shocked as an actress, inspired as a director, and triggered as a millennial."

(Y/n) chuckles and Nini perks up beside her. "Auditions are tomorrow after school. This show could change your lives," the teacher goes on, "and I'm saying this as a background dancer from the original movie. Third from the left, back row, red headband, and those are my real teeth. So . . ." the boy behind her steps up, looking amused. He reaches for the microphone and the teacher starts. "Oh, and meet your student choreographer, Carlos," Miss Jenn links arms with the boy. "You know him as captain of the colorguard. I know him as an unpaid, rising star." Miss Jenn moves the microphone away from her voice, murmuring something to Carlos beside her.

The school bell rings and all the students get up from the bleachers.

Nini sits in her seat for a moment, thinking, then she turns to her sister. "I've been in the choir for two years. It would be insane to think I have a shot at playing Gabrella, right?" Nini looks uncertain.

"Nin," (Y/n) says, softening at her twin's uncertainty. "Of course it wouldn't."

The uncertain look leaves Nini's face and she smiles warmly at (Y/n).

Nini looks more determined now. "Let's go!" She grabs her sister's hand, gently pulling (Y/n) to the cafeteria.

. . .

"And so I say to my mom," Kourtney continues her story at the lunch table, Nini and her boyfriend EJ Caswell sitting beside each other, and (Y/n) slightly to Nini's right, "'Looking this fabulous while also fighting for intersectional feminism is my summer job.' And that's how I spend my break."

(Y/n) smiles warmly at her friend.

"Wow," EJ says admiringly.

"Did I not tell you she's amazing?" Nini asks EJ, and he looks down at her.

"She is amazing," EJ agrees and Kourtney takes a bite of her sandwich. "You're amazing," the boy turns to Kourtney.

"Thank you. Yeah," Kourtney replies.

"Okay, crazy idea," EJ turns to face Nini, holding her hands in his own. "What if we went to the auditions in costume tomorrow?"

"Okay, I'm listening," Nini says, looking interested.

"Whatever you wear, I'm doing your makeup," Kourtney says and (Y/n) chuckles.

"So I was thinking, like, a basketball jersey for me, and then, for my leading lady, it is time to go full V. Hudge," EJ shows Nini a picture on his phone.

Nni laughs nervously. "Okay. No, no. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I mean, obviously you're gonna get Troy, but I don't wanna . . ." she pauses, ". . . jinx anything."

"Uh, that doesn't sound very Nini 2.0 to me," Kourtney argues and (Y/n) nods her agreement.

"You're going to get a part, Nini," (Y/n) says firmly.

Nini's big brown eyes soften at her twin's words. "And you will too," Nini replies and (Y/n) smiles.

"Babe," EJ squeezes Nini's hands, "we're a package deal here. And all the talented senior girls graduated last year. This one is ours to lose."

Nini softens even more, her eyes sparkling with affection. "Literally, how did we not speak until this summer?" she asks.

EJ smiles warmly, and he and Nini lean in at the same time in a kiss.

One of the other water polo players walks up to the table. "EJ, my man!" EJ gets up from the table, leaving Nini, (Y/n), and Kourtney sitting together, and (Y/n) glances over, seeing two of the theatre kids exchanging shocked looks.

A soft smile is on Nini's face as she slides closer to Kourtney, leaving a little bit of a gap between the two sisters.

"Okay, is he the best or is he the best?" Nini asks, a giddy expression on her face.

"He is. He is," Kourtney says, but a thoughtful expression flickers across her face.

"But?" Nini asks, looking a little confused.

"No 'but'," Kourtney says, looking as though she was trying to gather her words. "I just . . . I just don't want to see another boy hurt you. Remember how crushed you were after Ricky?"

"'Crushed' is a little dramatic," Nini says, rolling her eyes.

"You held yourself up in your room for forty-eight hours," (Y/n) comments. "I had to slide food under your bedroom door."

"This is different," Nini says, slapping her sister lightly on the shoulder. "That was then. I'm my own person now."

"Hey, Nini?" EJ says, and the brunette gets to her feet, falling into her boyfriend's embrace.

(Y/n)'s gaze flickers slightly to the right as Ricky storms past their table. Glancing slightly behind her, she sees Nini's gaze follow him for a moment, before she turns back to EJ.

. . .

"Alright, your turn Grandma," Nini says, she, (Y/n), and their grandmother playing Uno at their grandmother's nursing home.

"So, how was you first day back?" their grandmother asks.

"Ooh, we have a new drama teacher," (Y/n) pipes up, lying down a card.

"Yeah, she announced the musical and there's this part that I really, really want," Nini says, her eyes twinkling.

"My shining stars!" Malou, Nini and (Y/n)'s grandmother, exclaims.

"Aww, thanks," Nini says, looking nervous. She pats a card against the palm of her hand before she speaks again, looking up at Malou again. "But, um, I fell asleep on the bus ride home and I had this dream I've been having since I was little." (Y/n) looks at Nini curiously. "It's, like, this stress dream where I'm all alone on this Broadway stage, and I open my mouth, and nothing comes out."

Malou takes a moment to think. "Yeah," she says, "that's a common one." She waves Nini's words aside with an amused smile.

Nini lets out a nervous laugh. "Okay, so what does it mean?" Nini asks.

"Well, I don't think you need a psychoanalyst to tell you that," Malou says. "Honestly, I think any grandma could handle this."

"Then it's a good thing we have both," (Y/n) smiles.

Malou smiles at her granddaughter's comment, and then she turns back to Nini. "Nini," she says gently, placing a hand on top of Nini's, which was sitting on the table, "there's obviously something about being heard that feels off-limits to you. Do you not think you've earned it?" she asks.

"Well, I don't know," Nini replies, placing her uno cards on the table. "How do you stop having a dream?" Nini asks.

"You live it," Malou replies, squeezing her granddaughter's hand.

"Hi! Sorry we're late," One of (Y/n) and Nini's mother, Dana, says, hurrying into the room, her wife, Carol, following her.

Carol hugs her younger daughter and (Y/n) smiles. "Hi, Mama C!" Carol smiles warmly.

Dana hugs her mother, then Nini, squeezing her shoulders.

Carol hugs Nini, and Nini leans into her blonde mother's embrace.

"The car broke down. Again. Again," Dana says and (Y/n) laughs.

"But luckily, the car broke down near the doughnut shop," Carol says, setting down a box of doughnuts.

"Aww, thanks Mama C," Nini says.

"What's the score?" Carol asks.

"Grandma and (Y/n) are letting me win," Nini says and (Y/n)'s eyes crinkle when she smiles.

"You're doing that on your own," both (Y/n) and Malou say in unison.

Nini laughs.

"Why, yes, I would love a vanilla doughnut with sprinkles," Carol says, opening the box that sits in front of Nini.

(Y/n) and Nini laugh as their other mother, Dana, says, "Sweetie. Sweetie! No, I wanna split that one."

(Y/n) waits for her other family members to pull out their favorite doughnuts before she takes hers from the box.

Word Count: 2249 words

If you’d like to be tagged, let me know!

#nini salazar roberts x sister reader #nini x reader #maddox x reader #maddox hsmtmts #Ashlyn caswell x reader #reader insert #ricky bowen x bff reader

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marieeethhh · 2 years

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I know that people hate ej from s1, but I don’t. yeah, he made a huge mistake bc he was insecure and he totally screwed his relationship with nini. but he admitted his mistake very soon after that, he knew it was really bad and tried to make it up for everything. at the end of s1 he let nina go, as he said, it was the best thing he ever did to nini. I just…I know he’s not flawless, but still love him.

#hsmtmts #hsm the musical #hsm the series #high school musical the musical the series #ej caswell #matt cornett

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inspotlight · 1 year

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nini is all smiles as she gets lola ready for their night out watching ricky skate in his last olympic games. the little shirt she'd found online for their daughter was sure to be a hit tonight. she changes lola into the shirt and then puts her sweater on her, knowing that even with how much time she spends in skating rinks around the world, she isn't that big a fan of the cold. ❝ are you excited to give daddy the last bit of big news we'll be sharing at the olympics? ❞ she asks their little girl, getting her situated in her stroller.

it wasn't a long walk from their hotel in the olympic village to the rink that ricky would be skating at and nini made the walk pretty quickly. less than half a mile when she was hopped up on adrenaline was nothing. she flashes her credentials to the guards and makes her way to kiss and cry, knowing ricky would be in the last group. she hadn't wanted lola to have to spend the entire day at the rink, so they'd been playing at the hotel for a few hours, until it was time to go watch her love's last hurrah.

and what a hurrah it was. nini had watched most of ricky's skate with bated breath, but the last jump he executed perfectly had her jumping up and down in excitement, cheering for her husband. she lets him get off the ice and take a moment to get water and be congratulated on a flawless routine by coach jenn, and then nini is over to him, giving him a quick kiss before lola flings herself into her daddy's arms.

just as planned. nini smirks as she turns around to get the ultrasound picture from the stroller's basket so she has it ready to show him. ❝ can you take her sweater off? she got a bit excited cheering for you and looks flushed. i don't want her to overheat. ❞ it was a very mom thing to say, but the ulterior motive of getting ricky to notice lola's best big sister shirt was the real goal. she turns around to watch her husband, holding the little picture in her hand as she waited.

@melodyplucked

#━━ ♡ for your eyes only [ closed starter ]#━━ ♡ contact list [ ricky bowen ]#━━ ♡ twirl girl [ v6 ]#━━ ♡ away from the keyboard [ queued ]#melodyplucked

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kai-pop · 3 years

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🐻

#kai #exo #jongin #exo kai #kim jongin #kim kai #era: kai #kim jong in #flawless nini #bts: jacket

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kimkaijong-in · 5 years

Photo

flawless nini

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exo-stentialism · 5 years

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Kai ✦ Love Shot @ MBC Music Core 181215

#exo #kai #jongin #love shot #exosnet #181215 #mine #gif #kai gif #!!!!#he is honestly flawless #this color complements his skin so well #so stunning <3 #ahh nini the most beautiful flower in the world #reposted bc i messed up the 1st

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not-so-incorrect-hsmtmts · 2 years

Conversation

Carlos: Gina Porter… How do I begin to explain Gina Porter?

Nini: Gina Porter is flawless.

Kourtney: She has two assistants and a pink motorcycle.

Seb: I heard her hair’s insured for $10,000.

Big Red: I heard she does stunt shows… in Las Vegas.

Ashlynn: Her favorite movie is The Wild One.

EJ: One time she met Zac Efron on a plane, and he told her she was pretty.

Ricky: One time she punched me in the face. It was awesome.

#gina porter #carlos rodriguez #nini salazar roberts #kourtney greene #seb matthew-smith #big red #ashlynn caswell #ej caswell #ricky bowen #hsmtmts #incorrect quotes #incorrect hsmtmts #high school musical the musical the series

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fandomdaydreamer · 3 years

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The Lighthouse and The Ocean

Pt 1

Stranger Shoes

Pairing: Pedro Pascal/fem-OC, first-person narrator

Warnings: None

Summary:

Nini Van Fleet: actress, musician, loved in every way when she isn’t currently the source of gossip. This year, nominee for best supporting actress at the BAFTA award show. Who would have thought she would also win a new friend in this world of fame and fortune?

Notes: Also find this fic on Ao3 -here- or the series' Masterlist -here-

This isthe start of a slow-burn fanfic involving multiple real famous people as characters (which I do not own and don't mean any disrespect to, including the real winner of the best-supporting actress award Yuh-Jung Youn) and also... let’s pretend like the world has been cured of COVID-19 and for just a moment, simply enjoy?

Length: 5.1k words

Stranger Shoes

One thing I couldn’t get used to was the whole forced shebang around representing myself. Yes, I knew, I knew. This wasn’t really about me, I was merely representing the movie, the cast, the director and above all, the idea that movies can and should bring people of all kinds of backgrounds together to celebrate and validate art.

For a humble actress like me, the EE BAFTA awards allowed me to meet old friends from the movie industry and also new people of this same milieux. Above all was this pressure however and it didn’t matter what an honour it was to be nominated or even invited. Who was wearing the most elegant dress? Who had aged a little bit? You needed to be flawless from the moment you stepped onto the red carpet until you were sure you were alone again, preferably with a bucket of ice water for your feet and ice cream for your soul.

The red carpet was thus, a game of being seen and I was wearing one of those tres chic haute couture designer dresses in almost painfully uncomfortable high heels. Here came the struggle to avoid tripping for the price of looking like a princess.

I almost hadn’t worn these shoes but I had finally agreed that they were the most aesthetically pleasing option for a soft, cream-coloured evening gown. Please God, don’t let me stumble.

At heart, I was a modest person and felt like a foreign being floating in the vast space inside my limousine, which they had called ‘small’. It had generously been provided by our biggest producer, who was keen to show off their big nominee... which was me. Okay then, bring it on.

“Miss?” “Huh?” “We’re almost there.” “Oh, yes. Jolly good. Thank you. Rob, could I possibly ask you to help me out of the car, with my dress and all that?” Rob, my chauffeur gave me a smile through the rear-view mirror. “Of course, Miss.”

The limo drove up the path towards the event at the Royal Albert Hall and a few photographers already waited to unwrap the next reveal of who’s inside that car behind those tinted windows. I waited for my driver to walk over to my side and open the door for me. After all, a lady was expected to act accordingly and this wasn’t an occasion to bring a date who could possibly take over the job. Plus, there was no way I could get out myself.

As soon as the door opened, I was blinded by the flashlights and tried to outmatch their brilliancy with my biggest smile while exiting the car as gracefully as possible. The biggest shadows ever cast remained those made by the flashlights of the paparazzi, so you needed to be immaculate. Fashionably, even.

I smiled and waved and waved and smiled like anything, good behaviour thrown overboard first hand when I decided to step over a velvet barrier and reach out towards a group of fans who were calling out my name and try to get me to sign their posters, t-shirts, oh dear- that had been an autograph written on a boob. People behind the barricade continued cheering on their stars and a few of them were yelling my name again, so I went over and gave them as many autographs as they wanted. Even took some selfies.

“You are so pretty, I love you!” One particularly excited girl told me and I returned the pen to a random person. “Thank you, dear. I love you too!” Her arms were open and inviting and so I hugged her, staying true to my reputation that I wasn’t afraid of contact and always approachable.

I finally directed my steps towards the red carpet, where I was greeted by reporters.

“Leonie, who are you wearing tonight?” I was yelled at and I tried fighting my urge to give a weird answer. Who? My designer himself, that is! Do you see the leather belt? No, I bit my tongue and tried leaving my weird humour at home for once. Instead, I looked down at my fancy peach and gold coloured gown like it was the first time I saw it too. “Oh, this absolutely stunning dress was made by Alexander McQueen, I’m honoured to wear it.”

I roamed the crowd with my eyes, spotting a big star every now and then and got excited about belonging here, even though I was instructed to pose like a mannequin.

The night had become a little chilly and I smoothed my hands down my naked arms to try and stop the goosebumps from appearing on my skin.

“My goodness, Nini, is that you? You look like a princess. No, a fairy princess!” “Tom!” I had recognised his voice before I had turned around to hug my best friend close to me. Taking a step back, I looked at his deep burgundy, almost black satin three-piece suit and whistled. “Looking sharp yourself Mr Holland.” He laughed. “Thanks!”

I was so proud of my adoptive little brother and his nomination for best actor. We had starred in Anderson’s movie together playing brother and sister, only I was nominated for best-supporting actress and I secretly hoped we would both score.

We were asked to pose for the cameras and I couldn’t help but feel interrupted in our little reunion. “Oh, well... there’s time to catch up later.” He offered his arm for me to hold on to before we ascended the stairs towards the red carpet. “Are we seated together?” I asked.

“Yes, about that, I’m afraid not- I think there was some poor organisation involved. I’m sitting next to Dev though. Not sure what happened to your seat location.” I hoped I didn’t look too disappointed. This was much like being back in school and needing to sit with your gang. I had at least thought I was seated next to my co-star.

“What? No!” I protested as we reached the top of the stairs and were greeted by yet more photographers and reporters. “Don’t worry, I’ll be close and whoever sits next to you is very lucky anyway. I don’t know anyone who makes friends as quickly as you do.” “Oh, Tom. That’s an overstatement. I think it’s just because my natural awkwardness is such a good ice-breaker. Oh hello, there.” The mic of an exquisitely styled blonde reporter appeared under my nose.

“Good evening Leonie and Tom. You both look absolutely stunning tonight.” “Thanks!” “So, you’re both nominated. Do you hope to score two BAFTA awards tonight for the film you’re starring in together?”

Tom gestured for me to answer first, ever the gentleman. “If so, I would be delighted for everyone who has worked so hard to realise this project, including Tom and myself,” I answered in a way I hoped was charming enough. You had to be careful. Every word you said in public could and would be held against you. Not that I was very good at keeping my thoughts to myself.

“Likewise.” Tom threw in. “Honestly, it’s such a pleasure being here again, among all these talented artists and those representing our movie. It is as always, unreal. We’re here to have a good time and see what happens.” “And for the afterparty,” I added and he parroted my words with a laugh.

We walked slowly along the glorified red carpet. Tom caught me scanning the guests and the bitter tang of anxiety I felt couldn’t pass through him. He squeezed my hand. “Don’t worry, he isn’t here.” I sighed with a silly smile on my face. “Tom, I’m a big girl. Even if he was, I wouldn’t mind one bit.” I whispered, sounding braver than I felt. “I’m just saying-“Tom added. “He’s probably swinging lightsabres through the set of Tatooine and not wasting a thought about you either. Let’s have some fun tonight, okay?” I grazed his cheek with my hand in a gesture of thanking him for his support and friendship. “Yeah, let’s do that. Come on.”

We were stopping now and then to pose for more pictures or split up to enjoy the company of others because we weren’t attached to the hip until one shoot with the whole team was requested. Not once did I have to stumble, which was great. Afterwards, I lingered for a while, with a lovely reporter who had started a conversation in my native language and was recording it for Dutch TV. I greeted my family at home.

You got used to the attention. What you absolutely couldn’t get used to were the familiar faces you only recognised from big movies and while you try not to gasp at how close you are to all these famous people, you still caught yourself staring at- holy shit, there was Anthony Hopkins and there was Robert De Niro, the one and only Rosamund Pike and bloody Tom Hiddleston... were you shitting me?

The crowd of shiny suits and dresses parted and a pair of friendly and warm eyes crossed my gaze. Despite all the noises and distractions, his face had suddenly become the centre of my periphery. I was transfixed by his genuine, continuously softening smile which seemed to be directed only at me. I didn’t realise my smile had slowly died to be replaced with pure awe. My God, sometimes you witnessed a person becoming just utterly beautiful right in front of your eyes. I seemed to have forgotten how to function properly. The stranger’s lips had slightly parted and he seemed to have gotten oblivious to whatever the person next to him continued to tell him.

It took me a second to recognise him, for it seemed out of context from this place or anything surrounding the movie industry. The next thing I knew was that I was smiling at the handsome man who had mastered the adorable ‘look away, laugh and look back’ smoulder like a true professional. Godverdomme, I was backing out... what was his name again? Peter, Joel... not Fernando, was it? I certainly couldn’t act like I didn't know him, for I had just seen three seasons of him in this Netflix series ‘Narcos’.

Were we still looking at each other? It was too late not to stroll over and close the gap between us and say hello. That would have been rude. So, I did. My eyes dropped towards his wonderful long suit coat and wow; those shoes were amazing. A very attractive man with brown curly hair and scruffy stubble walked towards me and I was staring at his shoes.

“Hi.” He simply greeted me first and when we finally locked eyes thought I was lost from that moment on. My heart was feeling like it wept pure drops of liquid sunlight and I wasn’t sure why it hurt just a little bit. It was the experience of two persons coming together and their respective energies immediately clicking. “Hi,” I replied, hopefully not just dumbly repeating after him while outshining his smile. He looked like he was struggling to say something. Instead, his hand found its way to his neck, rubbing it in a rather shy way. Okay, good, so we were both a bit awkward. That made things easier.

He was the first to break the silence between us. “I’m sorry, I just saw you over there and I thought, ‘aah, that’s Leonie Van Fleet. I loved her movie’, I mean, your movie. Congratulations on being nominated.” I giggled at his words, glad we had gained a bit more distance from the reporters and cacophonous, snapping cameras.

“Thank you so much, that’s very kind. I really can’t believe it myself! I feel so strange between all these incredibly famous and talented people.”

“I think we all feel like that tonight, or more like... painted peacocks?” He mused, admiring the people strutting around in their fabulous attire.

I snorted out a mortifyingly unattractive laugh and stopped it with my hand. He tilted his head at my outburst and instead of frowning or sporting a similar weirded out expression, he looked delighted and kind enough not to mention it.

I cleared my throat. “I know, right? There are so many gorgeous people here and it’s terrifying... and it’s hard not to have a whole freak out. I’m so nervous.” I admitted.

He let out a deep breath through hollowed cheeks. “Nervous doesn’t even begin to cover it, I’m supposed to present one of the awards.” He was cringing a bit and we just grinned at each other, both in mutual understanding.

“I’m Pedro, it’s really nice to officially meet you.” Oh, thank goodness, I remembered his full name. He offered his hand and I did not so much shake it but held it and bathed in sudden warmth and comfort.

“Yes, yes! Pedro Pascal, the Mandalorian! I also watched Narcos recently and I was more than impressed with your work and I just thought the whole show was so compelling. I’m Leonie, please feel free to call me Nini. Everyone does.” I rambled but was relieved that I had provoked an even bigger smile from him. Pedro swallowed and he still wouldn’t let go of my hand until he seemed to snap back to reality and blink, maybe a tiny bit embarrassed. Oh, he did like me and I was more than flattered by it.

“Oh, ok, I will... uh, Nini. So, you watched Narcos? I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He replied, eyes crinkling with joy about me recognising his work. I hummed in approval and tried not to succumb listening to that voice inside my head which screamed ‘he’s cute, he’s cute, he’s cute!’ and which had begun shattering my brain from the moment I had noticed his presence.

“Can I admit something?” I asked tentatively and leaned in a little closer. “Yeah, sure!” “When I first spotted you over there, my mind didn’t immediately connect you to the cinema. Why was I thinking about a certain food truck on 47th street?” Pedro laughed with his whole body. He covered his mouth with his hand. “Oh, did I say something wrong?” I touched his arm, which I found out was solid bicep underneath the smooth fabric of his suit. Dry mouth. Relax.

“No, no, not at all. I was just- that was me you saw at that food truck, stuffing my face with a burrito and just freezing when I saw you placing your order back there.” Pedro wiped at his face. I gasped. Of course, that was it. That was why he seemed familiar. “That was you? Oh no, and I just left without a word when I got my food. I’m so sorry I didn’t recognise you!” “No, it’s worse you even remember that, I was straight out making a fool out of myself because of course, I knew who you were and just-“he gestured “-jaw stopped working.”

His face was so expressive and to be honest, that little confession had been incredibly adorable.

I blushed, hiding my smile but returning to meet his deep brown eyes. I quickly closed mine so I could focus on speaking actual words. “Those were some good burritos.” Sheesh, real smooth.

Laughing with him felt more natural than breathing but we were interrupted by a member of the security staff, who politely delivered a message from some reporters who asked if we wanted to pose together. “Sure.” We said at the same time.

“Is this okay?” Pedro asked before we were supposed to stand closely and I nodded, placing my hand on his arm while he gently held my waist, embracing me and simultaneously sharing the warmth of his body. With the additional inches of my high heels, we were roughly the same height and in comfortable proximity. I knew I was grinning like crazy; he had a strange effect on me.

“By the way,” I whispered only to him, nearly too close to his ear. “Those are some seriously badass shoes.” “Oh, they are, right?” He said in confidence like we were speaking about a very sexy woman and he twisted one foot so it would reflect and catch some lightning. I watched and whistled. “Really, really beautiful. I would wear them too.” There it was, that wonderfully contagious laugh. “I should try wearing yours. How do you manage to keep your balance?” “Uh, training and pure luck. My feet are killing me though.” Pedro sucked some air through his teeth and I thought I deserved his non-verbal sound of pity.

The photographers were yelling for our attention and for a short while, we just happily shared the same space in silence.

“Alright thank you.” Pedro excused us, much to my relief. My cheeks started to hurt a bit. “Well, it was really nice meeting you,” I spoke. “I guess I’ll see you inside then. Good luck winning that award.” “Oh, thank you. That would be rad for the whole team, I’ve never won a BAFTA.” I turned one last time before leaving him. “And good luck presenting the award. You’ll nail it.” I could have gone with a flirty wink but I decided to mess that up and go with finger guns instead. Pedro beamed and waved me goodbye. “Hope so!”

I spent the rest of the time before the show started with the Wes Anderson cast. Dev Patel brought me a glass of champagne and we and the rest made our bets who would win which award. Against my sense of humility, their bets were on me because apparently, ‘I had gone beyond everyone’s expectations.

People around me were chatting excitedly as I was led towards my assigned seat about two rows away from Tom but still in one of the middle aisles. He looked up when I walked by and waved excitedly, poking Wes in his ribs, who then turned around and also saluted me.

Turned out there really had been an organisational problem with my seating situation but that feeling of being the one left out was soon replaced when someone I previously met before stepped into my vicinity. He seemed just as surprised as me. “Whoah, you, here?” “Pedro!” “Am I in the correct row? This is seat 46, isn’t it?” “Yes, it is, take a seat! If anything, I’m the odd one out.” “Well, you won’t hear me complaining.” “Yeah, I shan’t either. Honestly, I’m glad.” I stood up to give him a chance to be seated so he wouldn’t have to climb over my dress.

Pedro wore a pair of black-framed glasses. He opened his suit jacket before sitting down next to me and revealed a simple white attire underneath. He cleared his throat and there was a semi-awkward moment of silence. When I simply had to observe him next to me from the corner of my eye, I thought that his entire outfit, including the air-tie, was more than delicious.

I raised one eyebrow at Pedro when he peeked at me while everyone else began to settle down. We both started grinning. I clicked my tongue. “These events are so formal, aren’t they? Part of me wished I could just at least rebel against the dress code. I like that you chose to not wear a bow tie.”

Pedro absently reached out to the place a bow tie could have been and smiled but he also turned his body and whole attention towards me. He could be so expressive with his body language alone, it was thrilling. “Now, why would you do that?” He almost purred. “You’re wearing the prettiest dress of the whole evening.” I smoothed down the fabric and noticed it looked almost a shade of pink in this lighting. This dress kept changing its colour. Maybe it could become red enough to hide my blush a little. “Thank you.” I looked down at his attire. “I’m quite obsessed with your outfit too. Especially your shoes.” He laughed. “Yes, I remember, thanks. Are your feet still hurting?”

“Excruciatingly.” “You can just lose them.” “And walk around on bare feet?” “Who’d notice?” I giggled at the pragmatic point of view, or was this just a man talking who definitely wasn’t obliged to conform to the beauty standard of his female colleagues? “Only the world, if for some reason, they do decide to give me an award...” He just looked at me calmly and it caused me to scrunch my nose and bend down towards my feet. “You know what, fuck it. I’m doing exactly that. Screw designer shoes.” “Good girl.”

I froze mid fumbling with the strings around my ankle and was only glad the curtain of my blonde hair was able to hide my reaction after those last two words were uttered. My eyes were possibly opened wide enough to pop out and I felt hot and cold at the same time. Something pulled tightly in my guts and my hips pressed down into the seat, legs twisting slightly. Would he please say that again?

The show was about to start.

When I looked back his gaze was fixed on the stage, smiling like nothing just happened. Pedro looked indefinitely clueless, the poor man. He probably wasn’t even thinking about how provocative that had been.

His attention was once again brought back by my happy sigh of being able to stretch out my feet, heels hopelessly abandoned.

“That’s better,” I whispered, earning a smile from him.

I looked down at his wonderful shoes. The crowd had stopped clapping for our host. “Can I try on yours?” I whispered. “What?” “Can I try on yours?” I wanted to find out if he would do what I asked for and hand them over willingly. He looked startled but suddenly eager to. “Yeah, absolutely. Go ahead.”

Pedro loosened the ties of his shoes and placed his socked feet on the carpet before handing them over to me as if passing a secret note in class which we could hide behind the seat in front of us. I busied myself putting them on. “Nice,” I exclaimed, prepping my heels onto the floor and observing how ridiculous they looked on my tiny feet.

We were just blatantly ignoring the whole show from now on, weren’t we?

“They’re a bit big.” He noticed as well and I hummed thoughtfully. “A fashion faux pas or do they go well with the dress?” “No doubt, I think they do.”

I laughed and suddenly, I was shushed by no other than Dame Judy Dench herself. She winked at me, but the message was clear. “Sorry!” I cringed and shared an amused look with Pedro.

We listened to our host finish presenting the evening and laughed at the anecdotes, clapped when appropriate and generally ignoring the cameras which filmed the audience. They couldn’t see me wearing Pedro’s shoes with such shameless audacity.

Of course, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut for long about it.

“I honestly wish you weren’t so charming; I might have not thought twice about stealing your shoes otherwise,” I muttered under my breath.

Pedro blinked but quickly caught back his composure. “Hey, I only need them back for a short while for my big speech up there but you’re free to wear them the rest of the time.”

“You would do that?” I asked, unsure if this was true and he was being serious. He pondered. “Nah, they’re too awesome. You can literally have anything else-“ he pointed up and down his whole body. “-but you can’t keep my shoes.”

I gaped at him, amazed at how our friendly acquaintance had obviously turned into playful flirtation. Had his eyes been that intense before? I reflected on his statement and tried not to lose my train of thought. “Totally understandable. Let me quickly put them o-“

“And the nominations for best-supporting actresses are-“ a magnified voice echoed through the room and demanded my whole attention. I had to stop working on Pedro’s shoes on my feet. This was my category and surely enough, my name was called and a camera was filming my personal suspension. Every nominee got a round of applause. “Nini?” Pedro whispered through his smile. “You’re still wearing my shoes.” I made a nervous sound. This was cool, they’d call another name and I would be fine.

Margot Robbie opened the golden envelope.

“The best-supporting actress is-“ My heart skipped a beat. “Leonie Van Fleet.”

My jaw dropped at the sound of my name. Around me, cheering, applause, standing ovations. Pedro helped me up as I rose from my seat and suddenly, I was practically lifted into the air in a giant hug from behind and I shrieked before realising it was just Tom, who’d come down two rows to congratulate me. There were hugs and kisses from my team and I was supposed to get up there and receive that award but oh...

“Uh, I- I- Uhm, yeah. I’m just gonna take these.” I looked at Pedro and panicked but he seemed about to burst out in laughter while still clapping for me. “Go, go, go!” “Ah, alright!”

I knew I must have looked like a penguin walking down those rows, smaller than earlier, all grace entirely disappeared from me. As soon as I climbed the stairs, I heard a few people laugh and saw them pointing at my feet, for my dress was cut slightly shorter in the front and everybody was able to see the mismatched look caused by a pair of men shoes.

I was too overwhelmed to precisely register my own lack of air to breathe. My feet swam in those shoes and the heels clacked onto the shiny floor before the next step. The wonderful presenter awarded me the BAFTA trophy and my hands felt shaky and numb as they closed around the golden mask. I marvelled at the award... my... award and I stepped behind the microphone and heard my own huff of breath. A minor blackout due to the sheer unreal situation caused me to lose my words and forget the tiny speech I had prepared just in case this would happen. Don’t look at your feet, don’t – the longer I didn’t say anything at all, the more the audience was cracking up.

“Uuuh.. heh.” I looked back at my, Pedro’s shoes and heard laughter. “Ahm... dear God, I don’t know what to say-“ My throat tightened a bit with emotion. “-other than to point out that I am so, so thankful for this and all the wonderful people who were majorly responsible to even pave the way for me to wobble up here. I want to thank my grandparents for introducing me to the theatre. I want to thank Tom Holland for being a rock in my life and last but not least, Wes for hiring me in the first place!” my heart felt like it swelled twice its size with pride. “Thank you. Thank you!”

My voice had started to quiver and I forced myself not to cry with too much emotion. Instead, I took myself and Pedro’s shoes back to my seat and was once again, accompanied by applause and words of encouragement. Everyone was being so utterly lovely. I was the luckiest girl in the world.

I could finally sit back down and held my cooling hand onto my forehead. The noise died down. Pedro was looking at me patiently and apparently, I was too thick to understand what was off until I saw his socks... Wait, socks?

“Oh, dear!” I exclaimed, snorting instead of laughing. Pedro did the job for me and Judy Dench scolded us for it once again, with the firm authority of a lovely elderly lady. Still, it worked and our muted giggles caused our shoulders to shake with laughter like we were a pair of naughty teenagers with poor self-control during a school gathering.

I slipped his shoes off my feet with much ease and passed them back to him. Consequently, the act of violently suppressing our emotions had no advantageous effect on my make-up. Tears were running down my cheeks and I quickly wiped them away with my hand.

Bless Dev Patel, who carried around a handkerchief and thought I was crying from receiving the award, while in reality, laughing with Pedro was the most addictive thing I had ever experienced.

To make him laugh, even more, I pretended to dab my eyes with my BAFTA award.

Unfortunately, the camera had seen that and I hid behind Pedro’s back. He wiped his face dry, chuckling until his body finally stopped shaking.

Dev’s handkerchief did an indefinitely better job than the award.

“I’m sorry but you have to stop making me laugh. I think it’s almost time for me to get up there myself and present an award. Hush now.” Pedro stopped quivering by putting a finger to his lips. To show him I was willing to comply, I mimed to zip my mouth shut and lock it with an invisible key. I thought he looked gorgeous with glistening eyes and slightly pink cheeks. Pedro could eventually tear his gaze away from me or else we would have burst into laughter again. Instead, he busied himself with putting on his shoes again. I figured it was time for me to prepare to endure my own for a little while longer.

The next trailers rolled and the nominees were introduced as their characters. Pedro knew this was his cue and he got up to close his suit and excuse himself as he managed to climb over my legs. “Good luck,” I told him as well and he blinked at me like a friendly cat.

Of course, I had to check him out when he walked away, meaning that my eyes followed his arse. How deliciously scandalous.

You could just see him glowing up there while presenting the award for Best Foreign Film to the Danish production of ‘Another Round’ with Mads Mikkelsen. The Royal Albert Hall erupted into applause, celebrating the big win and Pedro quickly left the stage.

When he had finally returned to his seat the racket in the room had already died down. The energy between us was buzzing but we remained silent with both our stupid smiles on our faces. We didn’t even really take a look at each other, just... acknowledged that we had found a new friend.

Part 2

Translation notes:

"godverdomme" - God dammit

And btw, the /i/ in "Nini" is pronounced like 'ee', not like the /i/ in 'hi' or 'nice', so it's "Neenee"

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lamechellephotog · 5 years

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Nini is such a cutie look at his cheeks! 😚🐻 @zkdlin @weareone.exo _ _ _ _ _ #EXO #엑소 #시우민 #Xiumin #golden #EXOL #flawless #love #kai #ninibear #jongin #cheeks #soft #nini #handsome #korean #gucciambassador #kpop #indonesia #cutie #support #naturerepublic #baby #skincaregoals #beautiful #melanin #gorgeous https://www.instagram.com/p/Bx_5be_hQze/?igshid=jhv1b2ytlzvd

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stubbornness-and-spite · 3 years

Text

the ink on our skin and the blood in our hearts (are intertwined): Chapter 3

first chapter | previous chapter | next chapter

read on AO3

Fandom: HSMTMTS

Notes: We're moving into non-canon territory so there will be fewer time skips between scenes. However, there will be more places where the same situation is told by different characters. (ie. a scene is told from one perspective and when the next perspective is introduced, the scene jumps back a few minutes) I think the POV switches and scene retellings are clear, but let me know if any are confusing. (I forgot to add chapter titles on tumblr because they’re not super important, but I’m adding them now.)

Warnings: swearing, blood mention

Word Count: 1302

Chapter Summary: the musical is over. unfortunately, that means it's time to actually process revelations and emotions

Story continues under the cut. Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

second chance, gotta grab it and go

EJ POV

For everything that went wrong, the musical was… good. EJ didn’t think he’d ever thoroughly enjoyed a performance that hadn’t been nearly flawless before and even then, he kicked himself for the fact that it wasn’t actually flawless.

He sat in the green room and looked over the mess of makeup and costumes. They’d come back to strike later, but for now, the room existed in the timeless void that was a show.

“EJ,” called a voice from the door. “You joining us? We’re heading to Denny’s and then my house. A few people are planning to stay the night.”

EJ lifted a hand and waved Ashlynn off. “I’ll catch up. Text me when you leave Denny’s if I’m not there yet and I’ll meet you at your house.” Ashlynn didn’t respond. “Ash?” EJ turned around. “What’s up?”

“What’s on your hand?” Ashlynn asked quietly. EJ looked down at his hand as Ashlynn made her way over. There was a small heart that looked like it was underlined.

“I thought you weren’t going to use your soulmate bond,” Ashlynn said, grabbing his hand roughly and looking it over.

“I’m not,” EJ hissed. “That wasn’t me. I didn’t even know it was there.”

“EJ,” Ashlynn scolded, pushing up his sleeve and flipping his hand around to examine his arm. “That looks like someone testing a bond! Did you talk to Ricky?”

“Not about this!”

EJ yelped and yanked his hand back. He jerked his sleeve back down over his wrist. “I definitely didn’t talk to him about this! Last I saw, it looked like he and Nini were going to get back together!”

“You have to talk to him,” Ashlynn said, leaving no room for discussion.

“Absolutely not,” EJ snapped. “I don’t have a soulmate, Ash!”

“Sorry.” Big Red leaned in the door. “Didn’t mean to interrupt, I was just looking for Ashlynn.”

EJ dropped his face into his palms. “How much of that did you hear?”

“You should talk to Ricky and you don’t have a soulmate,” Big Red replied quickly. “I don’t have to read into that if you don’t want me to.”

“Soulmates suck,” EJ groaned. “Why can’t we just be happy? Why should happy people break up because their skin doesn’t share ink? Why should people force themselves to be with people they don’t love because someone decided before they were born that they were supposed to be perfect together?”

“Yeah, man,” Big Red agreed. “My parents aren’t soulmates and they’re one of the sappiest couples I know. On the other hand, my uncles are soulmates and they definitely rival my parents for sappiest couple. Family gatherings are fun.” EJ dropped his hands and sat up to look at Big Red.

EJ blinked at him in confusion. “I’ve never had someone agree with me about soulmates before.”

“Huh,” Big Red mused. “Maybe you should talk to Ricky, then. He used to be totally on the soulmate train because of his parents, but they’re divorcing so he’s having a bit of a ‘come to Jesus’ moment.”

“I’m not talking to Ricky fucking Bowen about soulmates,” EJ snarled.

“Okay,” Big Red replied with a shrug. “Wanna talk to my parents? They’re insisting on driving me to Denny’s if I’m planning on spending the night at Ashlynn’s with everyone else because they want to congratulate me, but they’re always down for teaching kids to fuck the system.”

“Yeah,” EJ said, surprising himself. “I would like that.”

“Cool,” Big Red chirped. “I’ll meet you out front.”

Ashlynn cleared her throat. “Weren’t you driving me to Denny’s?” she asked pointedly.

“Was that why you didn’t want to leave without me?” EJ asked. “I knew I was forgetting something.” He tossed her his keys. “Here. Don’t wreck my car.”

Ashlynn stared at him. “EJ, are you okay? You’ve never let me drive your car without you there to backseat drive.”

“I’m fine!” EJ insisted. “I’ll meet you at Denny’s!”

EJ felt suddenly out of place and a bit like a little kid as he met Big Red and his parents outside of the school and followed them to their car.

“I’m EJ,” he said abruptly. “Caswell.”

“Big Red’s mentioned,” Big Red’s mom said kindly. “Call me Amy, sweetheart.”

“I’m Papa Red to any friends of Big Red!” Big Red’s dad declared.

“Dad,” Big Red groaned. “Don’t be weird.” He looked at EJ. “Sorry about them, but you said yes when I asked.”

“Kiddo,” Amy asked, ruffling Big Red's hair. “Was there a reason you wanted EJ to get a ride with us or did he just need a ride?”

“Oh!” Big Red smacked his forehead. “EJ’s anti-soulmate.”

“Oh?” Big Red’s parents said in unison.

“Yeah?” EJ said a bit hesitantly. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Some people’s share marks on their skin. It doesn’t mean they’re perfect for each other.”

“That’s what I always say!” Big Red’s dad thundered. “My soulmate is my best friend, but I could never imagine marrying her! I love my wife far too much for that!”

“I’m friends with my soulmate too,” Amy said. “We tried a romantic relationship, but it was so tense. She’s a better friend than she was a girlfriend and I think I am too. Some people are platonic soulmates and some people just don’t fit with their soulmates. Not every set of connected people are meant to stay in each other’s lives.”

“My parents are soulmates,” EJ admitted, running a hand through his hair. He scoffed. “They spend more time avoiding each other than they do anything else. They don’t usually show up to my shows or games because they’re worried the other might be there.”

“Do you want us to go to your water polo games?” Big Red blurted out. “Like, the drama kids. Because we totally would.” EJ's head turned on a swivel to look at Big Red. He blinked blankly a few times before his lips twitched upwards and he shook his head.

“I don’t really care anymore,” EJ said. “I used to, but I don’t anymore. It’s just to look good on college applications at this point.”

“We’re going to your next game,” Big Red decided. “You can text me your game schedule or I can get it from Ashlynn, but then I’ll have to explain to her why I want it.”

“I’ll send it to you tomorrow, okay?” EJ said, feigning exasperation and rolling his eyes. He sighed and changed the subject. “I know who my soulmate is. He doesn’t, but he’s dating someone else and he’s happy. I’m not being an asshole by not telling him, right?”

“Does he care about soulmates?” Big Red’s dad asked. “Your boy.”

EJ shrugged. “I think he did, but not anymore.”

“Do you think he would want to know?” Amy asked.

“Maybe,” EJ admitted. “But I’m pretty sure he can’t hate me any more than he already does, so what does it matter.”

“Don’t tell him,” Big Red said quietly. “He’ll freak out. He’s confused about soulmates right now and he’ll think he’s obligated to date you even if neither of you want it. Because he doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t love you either, but he cares about you and Ricky’s way too self-sacrificial when it comes to people he cares about. He’ll make you both miserable.”

"Self-sacrificial?" EJ asked with raised eyebrows. "Ricky fucking Bowen?"

Big Red laughed. "I didn't say he did it well," he protested. "But that audition was supposed to show that he was willing to be vulnerable in front of a crowd and show an interest in what Nini cares about. Ended up embarrassing you and Nini more than him, but the thought was there."

EJ winced and nodded. "Which is why you think he'd try to date me if we were soulmates."

"If he knew you were soulmates," Big Red corrected.

EJ protested, “I didn’t say my soulmate was Ricky.”

“Right. It's totally not too late to backtrack now." Big Red rolled his eyes. "And Ricky just happened to have a bond mark on his lip right after he smacked you in the face with a basketball.”

“So he doesn’t know?” EJ asked, turning back to what Big Red had said before EJ had tried to deny that Ricky was his soulmate.

“No,” Big Red confirmed. “He doesn’t. I suggest you keep it that way unless you want to actually be there for him. He’s had enough people who should have stuck with him leave him behind. Don’t be another one.”

“Okay.” EJ nodded, not making eye contact with anyone.

“Honey,” Amy cut in. “You can tell him if you want to. It’s your bond too.”

“I don’t want to,” EJ stressed. He blew out a long breath. “I just don’t want to make things worse by not telling him.”

“You do what’s right for you,” Big Red’s dad said. “It’s your bond and your life. There’s nothing you’re ‘supposed to’ do with it.”

“Also, we’re here,” Amy added. “Are you good to head in, hon?”

“Yeah,” EJ said. “Thank you.” He hopped out of the car and headed towards Denny’s, catching Ashlynn’s eye and waving as he opened the door.

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