A/N: If you have any ideas/request for this story or would like me to tag you for future updates, let me know. Thank you so much!
It was a Saturday night and the roster was getting settled into our new hotel rooms. I walked out of the bathroom, drying my dipping hair, into my room I shared with Renee. She was sitting in the corner of the bed with a huge smile on her face as she looked down at her phone.
“Whatcha’ smilin’ at?” I asked, trying to break the awkward silence that always fell between us.
When she realized that it was me, she instantly locked her phone and jumped off the bed. “Nothing! Um…I’m actually gonna go meet up with the girls right now, yeah. So, um, don’t wait up for me. Yeah, bye!” She grabbed her jacket and hurried out of the room.
Straight up weird, that’s how our relationship was nowadays. At first, it was the perfect fairytale story. We were always making jokes, having fun and going on adventures. I was actually falling in love with her. But now, we barely talk to each other, just the occasional “hi, how are you”. She was always going out with her friends doing her thing, and I was doing my thing.
All this thinking got my mind jacked up, so I decided to throw on a shirt and hop down to the bar downstairs. When I made it down, it wasn’t completely empty, but it wasn’t full either. I ordered a beer and sat on the stool. Once the bartender placed my drink down, I already had half of it down my throat.
God, I missed Elena. Ever since she slapped me on the last Smackdown, she completely ignored me. I’d see her in the halls and she will instantly run in the other direction, avoiding me at all cost. I knew she was mad about what happened at the Uso’s house. I was beyond drunk outta my mind. I should of never threw myself at her like that and god knows how disgusted at myself for doing it.
“Are you serious!?! Just get me another drink!!” I heard a familiar voice scream.
“M’am, I think you’ve had enough to drink tonight. Either contain yourself or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“I will not contain myself! Now just give me another fucking drink!” Elena screamed as she tried to stand up, almost falling over before she caught onto the bar.
She looked like she was about to jump over the bar and rip the guys face off. I quickly made my way over to her and grabbed her by the shoulders. “(Y/N), come on. I think it’s time to get you to bed.”
“Huh. Um. Okay.” She slurred and started to walk with me towards the elevator but instantly fell. She struggled to find the balance to get back up. I quietly chuckled and picked her up bridal style. She placed a hand around my neck and rested her head on my shoulder as her breathing started to slow down. I pulled her card out of her back pocket and made her way to her room. I pushed the cover back with one hand and managed to get her tucked in. I turned around and made my way to the door when I hear a small sniff and whimper. I walked around the bed to see that she already had streams of tears running down her face.
“Hey. Hey, (Y/N), it’s okay. What’s wrong?” I softly said, wiping her tears.
“I miss Dean. I miss him so much but he hates me. He hates my guts so much.”
My stomach dropped. “He doesn’t hate you.”
“Yes he does. I slapped him. I don’t even know why I slapped him. God, I wish I never slapped him because I messed everything up like I usually do. I finally got a person I care about so much and I mess it up. I wish I could tell him how sorry I am but I know he would care less. I miss him so much. I miss his voice and his laugh. I miss the way he made me feel so happy with just a smile. I miss Dean.”
I pulled her to my side and she rested her head back on my shoulder. I could feel my shirt soak with her tears. I started slowly running my hand through her hair. She started to back fall asleep as she said “I miss Dean” over and over, quieter every second until the only sound was her slow breathing.
What is this girl doing to me?
“Nothing! Um…I’m actually gonna go meet up with the girls right now, yeah. So, um, don’t wait up for me. Yeah, bye!” I grabbed my jacket and ran out of the room. I quickly made my way to my destination. I turned my head both ways, making sure no one was around before I knocked on the door.
“Hey yourself.” I threw my hands around his neck and roughly connected our lips, pushing him back and closing the door behind us.
Just imagine the foxes are at an Exy game and like at basketball games at half time they do the kiss cam, and Neil and Allison are sitting next to each other and the camera pans to them and they just turn and look at each other for .2 seconds and just flat out “No” and then Allison turns to her left and kisses Renee and Neil turns to his right and kisses Andrew and now there’s gay all over the stadium
so i saw this post a while ago about andrew and renee’s relationship and god okay here we go:
listen these two have the lamest and absolute corniest inside jokes
andrew’s humor is dry af and comes out as a threat 99% of the time (with the other one percent being a threat which people mistake as a joke rip), so it’s hard to tell when he’s actually trying to make a joke
but when he does it either makes everyone groan or sets renee (and eventually neil) laughing
andrew never really laughs at their inside jokes but he’s much less in a mood for murder when theyre told, which is partly why renee tells them
(”looks like andrew can lighten up, guys”)
(”nicky if he wasn’t with renee right now you’d have your racquet up your ass.”)
they like to have conversations and debates over the oddest things, ranging from the quite possible zombie apocalypse to the great peanut butter debate: crunchy vs smooth
andrew: “peanut butter was made to be smooth. if i wanted peanuts in them i’d fucking buy peanuts. also, who the fuck wants that crunch in their pb&j?”
renee: “i think it gives more variety and flavor.”
andrew: “and they call me the problematic one.”
this may or may not have led to a “who can make a better sandwich” war, ultimately resulting in renee teaching andrew how to cook (he doesn’t often display this skill, but does so exclusively for renee and neil what a sap)
the two also like to go shopping together, and andrew only ever takes her advice when it comes to choosing which clothes to buy for neil. renee is also one of the few people he buys clothes for (he has her style down)
renee paints andrew’s nails (with permission ofc)
andrew helps renee dye her hair an assortment of colors
sometimes andrew’s nails match renee’s hair
their deepest and most personal conversations happen when theyre sparring, and are almost never brought up outside of that, which both of them appreciate
she’s the first to confirm about neil, and the first to support him
she gives him advice and chastises him, but doesn’t pry, doesn’t push. she is aware of both their boundaries, and so is he
andrew considers renee to be one of his best friends, though he doesnt tell her that
instead, theyre reflected through his “thank you”s and his cooking, his rare smiles and their debates. renee knows through his skype calls and messages, their sparring and their meetups and his small gifts.
renee is one of the few people who doesn’t let andrew let them be, and andrew is aware of that.
she is one of the two recipients of andrew’s rare hugs, only given at his most vulnerable moments, his vulnerable moments only shown to the people he most trusts and values in his life
also let’s be real renee is maid of honor at andreil’s wedding and you can fight me on this
renee walker and andrew minyard have such a strong, beautiful relationship, and no one can convince me otherwise.
Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard Rating: T, Word Count: 611 Fluff (or as fluffy as these two can get at least), Future Fic, Hugs, Established Relationship, POV Neil ♥ Read on AO3
(kinda for @allyasavedtheday, who was kind enough to yell with me about andreil hugs (and just the foxes+hugs in general))
It’s been a year. A year since Neil’s
father died, since Neil almost died at the hand of his father. He doesn’t want to
think about it, but the memories push themselves to the forefront of his mind when
he sees the date on his phone and the concerned glances of his teammates when
he walks into the girls’ room for lunch. Even the new Foxes know something is
up, and glance at Neil.
It’s Saturday, the day after another win
that brings the Foxes one step closer to defending their title in the finals,
so Coach gave them the day to relax and recuperate from last night’s
celebrations. The only people not looking hungover right now are Andrew and
Renee. Neil himself isn’t hungover, but his sleep was plagued with nightmares,
so he’s guessing he looks about as good as Dan right now, which is at least
better than Nicky.
Conversation is sparse, and doesn’t
distract Neil from his memories. After avoiding the twentieth sideways glance
from Nicky, Neil’s eyes land on the scars on his knuckles. His muscles lock for
less than a second, but everyone must’ve noticed, because what little
conversation there was, disappears completely. He gets up to go and be out of sight
of everyone for a while. Andrew, who’d been sitting next to him on the floor,
gets up too and makes his way to the door without a backward glance. Neil
They make their way to the roof in
silence. Neil opens the door as Andrew lights a cigarette. It’s just past
midday and the sun is still high in the sky. The leftover chill from winter is
barely noticeable in the air.
Neil sits down near the side of the
roof. He crosses his legs and he leans forward, elbows on his knees. If he
cranes his neck, he can see the ground below. He expects Andrew to sit down
beside him, but Andrew, as always, defies any expectations placed on him.
Neil almost turns around when he feels
Andrew’s presence at his back and sees Andrew’s legs stretch out on either side
of him. Andrew’s hands are on his knees, black bands just visible from underneath
his sweater. Neil takes Andrew’s cigarette and holds it up, studying it. He
watches the little embers glow red and then fade as he waits Andrew out.
‘Yes or no?’ Andrew asks.
Neil keeps his eyes on the cigarette,
but from his peripheral vision he sees Andrew lifting his arms and bending them
slightly like he’s going to wrap them around Neil’s waist.
‘Yes. Always yes,’ Neil says.
‘Stop saying always,’ Andrew grumbles, but
he shuffles a little closer, then wraps his arms around Neil’s waist and pulls
just a little. Neil takes it as the okay to lean back.
They’ve never done this before. They’re
both a lot more comfortable with casual touches these days, both from each
other and their teammates; they usually sit with their sides pressed together,
sometimes Neil wakes up with the weight of Andrew’s hand on his stomach. But
they’ve never really hugged or cuddled. Not like this. Not with intent.
Neil closes his eyes and breathes in the
smells of Andrew, smoke and whisky and sweat. A relaxed smile forms on his lips
as he lets Andrew replace another bad memory with a good one.
‘Give me back my cigarette,’ Andrew
Neil holds the cigarette up by his
shoulder, filter facing Andrew. It’s a challenge. They can either share this
one, or Andrew needs to let go of Neil to light another.
‘293,’ Andrew mutters before hooking his
chin over Neil’s shoulder and taking a drag.
It was finally a peaceful day in Orangetown. Renee was taking a stroll along the main street, kind of partially obscuring her face somewhat from the passersby. It was a nervous habit. I mean… god her parents didn’t even know about her right now, not really. Not well enough to really get it. The last thing she needed was a bunch of people gawking at her or whatever.
Not that they really would. Renee was a bit bitter. Occasionally she’d see a dress or something in one of the windows, but was too afraid to look for too long. God it was dumb. It was. She should be… I dunno, practicing her archery, or learning enemy movements, or other things that rebels are supposed to do, not… focusing on dumb identity struggles. In an attempt to clear her head, she made a beeline to the apartment, moving into a back alley of the pretty typical city. Maybe some practice would help?
Look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now! Years from now when asked where I first understood the transformative power of live theatre or what most influenced me as a storyteller, I have no doubt my answer will be Hamilton. It has been two days since I saw the house lights dim at the Richard Rodgers theatre. My only regret is that I cannot remember everything!
Of all the performers, Leslie Odom Jr both knocked me off and brought me to my feet. His subdued persona in Act I is downright frustrating, as it should be. That’s how Hamilton sees Burr, so the audience shares the sentiment. He’s so subdued during all the crescendos and big moments in “Wait for It” the audience is on the edge of their seat the entire time. He edges us the whole way through with no payoff. the song ends with a decrescendo, leaving the audience wanting more, delivering the song more like a soliloquy than the big song and dance you’d expect.
Third-loudest and third-longest applause line of the night. Well-deserved. At that point, he’s still an almost-loveable anti-hero, even to those of us who know how the story plays out. However, I am biased because …
I believe in Chris Jackson. I will never forget how fully he committed to the character of Washington. Of all the characters unable to control or influence Alexander, Washington shuts him down with a simple, “No."
He is the authority, the father, the Mount Olympus! I’ve said it ten times, yet I’ll say it again: Chris Jackson is the best Washington we’ve had since the man himself. Perhaps this is the reason tears welled in my eyes as he read Jefferson’s resignation letter. I knew it was coming as Washington pushed Alexander to helm him "teach them how to say good-bye,” and gosh darn it I suppress tears just thinking about it.
Do not think it goes unnoticed the words “I am too sensible of my defects to not think I may have committed many errors” and “consigned to oblivion” are said by Alex. This ending builds up to what is my favourite crescendo in the show. The ending Washington deserves.
Chris Jackson moves centre-stage, balancing on the edge, toe of his book dangling over top the orchestra. He braces himself not unlike Bryce Harper before he knows he’ll get a pitch to handle. Chris Jackson’s face is completely coated with sweat, though he’s shed the overcoats worn for the majority of the production which only adds to the vulnerability of the moment. Even though I knew the words that were coming, that titular phrase wounded me as Chris Jackson slayed,
“One last time … Time …”
I wanted to clap, but he held that final note so long and I didn’t want to interrupt because, sweet baby Jesus, it was glorious! At some point, the floodgates broke and tears swam down my cheeks because, like Alexander, I did not want to say good-bye.
When Chris Jackson finished I was a wreck. My clapping and shouting in praise was not enough. Never have I been so irrevocably moved by a performance. Second-longest and second-loudest applause line of the night. What topped it?
The man, the myth, the silky legend, Leslie Odom Jr.
My sister had seen video of this number, “The Room Where it Happens,” and forbade me to watch it. “You have to fully experience this live,” She said. I obeyed and I paid for it.
Burr edges us again, narrating in the vein of Che before embarking on an arc halfway through which, to those in the know, signaled the beginning of the end. He realizes the only way to make a difference is to be in the room where deals are stuck and compromise is made. As the crescendo comes along there is no edging this time. Instead, Burr blows the doors off the place.
Suddenly, gone is the reserved Odom Jr, in favour of someone embracing what he really wants. This song is all Burr as he jumps on tables and leads the ensemble in that big dance number missing earlier. He is a man possessed by demons of desire, mortality, and legacy. The song builds and builds and Leslie does not miss a beat though he does not leave a square foot of the stage untouched. Like watching a tennis match, your eyes are on something that is at once everywhere and nowhere.
Edging, edging, edging.
The house lights dim and Leslie’s silhouette is stone still. The applause in the five-hundred person venue is deafening. I had just witnessed a star explode, eclipsing everything I thought about theatre. There was adrenaline and sweat not only from the cast, but the audience. We had been taken on a frantic ride with huge emotional payoff and it seemed like Leslie felt Burr in his soul. He had me hook line and sinker.
The cast was phenomenal top-to-bottom, but Anthony Ramos got me more than anyone. He dies twice in the play, first as John Laurens. He’s so fun-loving and outgoing and physical with Alexander. The audience falls for him immediately, and I think it’s more Anthony Ramos than Lin-Manuel’s John Laurens, which is what breaks your heart in Act I.
A letter arrives to Hamilton, read aloud by Eliza. This is the only portion of the play not included on the soundtrack, so Eliza reads the notice of Laurens’s death as Anthony Ramos is bathed in spotlight, defiant. We are all struck, including Hamilton, because this is the catalyst for “Non-Stop.” The death of his friend makes him realize how much he has left to accomplish, renewing the overdeveloped sense of mortality he had as a kid in St Croix.
Grief is apparent on Lin-Manuel’s pained face as “Non-Stop” begins, the orchestra cues up, Burr begins to narrate, Eliza leaves, and he still has a stunned look on his face. This shows how much he loved Laurens because the song is so upbeat but there’s this tragedy added to all the others on a background loop in his psyche.
In Act II, Anthony Ramos plays Hamilton’s son, Philip. This death was hard for me because I had a limited view. His deathbed ran parallel to the stage, so my view was of his feet, Eliza, and the top of Alexander’s head. As Philip apologizes to his mother for, well, making a bad decision, I saw his hand grip the back of Eliza’s head to pull her closer. He was scared. His other hand wrapped around hers. I saw no faces, only heard them singing their melody from earlier in the Act. Then it’s just Eliza.
“Cept huit, nuf. Cept huit–”
This is where I actually cried. Multiple tears, red in the face, crying like a baby at Eliza’s anguished scream at the end. (Not included on the soundtrack.) I was irrationally rooting for a miracle, then Philip’s hand fell and Eliza screamed and I just felt it in my blood. It was that good.
Those are the numbers that really affected me. I can’t express just how in awe I am of every part of this play, though. From the choreography to the costumes to staging to lighting to the composition …
“The Schuyler Sisters” is a fabulous number that showcased both the chaos of New York City and Renee Elise Goldsberry’s amazing voice. She brought the house down during “Satisfied,” which is a remarkable feat of storytelling and story re-telling in live theatre. It’s next-level meta. The “rewind” is just something you have to see to fully believe.
Johnathan Groff’s replacement as King George III is fabulous. Hilarious–he even got Leslie Odom Jr to break character at one point. I regret that the audience wasn’t having as much fun with it as I did. I sang along to every bit of those numbers, you better believe it!!
The staging for “Ten Duel Commandments” and “Meet Me Inside” is phenomenal. And the EMOTIONAL INTENSITY when Alexander shouts, “CALL ME SON ONE MORE TIME!” to George Washington is something I can’t describe. Washington looks pained; he does think of Alex as a son. So when GW orders AHam back home, that’s why. You can tell Alexander wants nothing more than to grab the words and stuff them back in his mouth, but the damage is done.
I haven’t said anything about Daveed Diggs and Oak, but their performances are amazing. I just don’t have a lot to say because I bought them all the way through the play. There was never a time I looked at them as Oak and Daveed. Yes, Lafayette owns in “Guns and Ships.” Like, bow down, because that elocution is fabulous.
“Yorktown” is my favourite number in the play. I know you’re thinking it should be one of the three I mentioned earlier. You’re wrong. “Yorktown” contains the line, “Immigrants! We get the job done.” Additionally, the intensity is at concert-level. I remember that feeling when I’m barricade for my favourite band. More adrenaline in my veins than blood, synapses firing on all cylinders so I can’t think about anything except what’s in my sightline.
Hercules Mulligan has this great little bit that I love. One of my favourites. “We in this shit now, somebody’s gotta shovel it. Hercules Mulligan, I need no introduction. When you knock me down I get the fuck back up again!” Then they have this little bluegrass section for a scene transition while the battle is taking place. It’s my jam. This song is an actual roller coaster that starts and stops and leaves you breathless at the end as “the world turned upside-down.”
Jefferson has some priceless moments like in “What’d I Miss” when he shakes Alexander’s hand then wipes it off on his (purple velvet!) overcoat. The guy’s got a pimp cane and lets his fro fly in that purple getup and I buy the swagger. I feel Jefferson in that performance. The little wing-flapping thing he does (which AHam mocks in “Cabinet Battle #1”) made me laugh.
There is a four-song tour de force in Act II: “We Know,” “Hurricane,” “The Reynolds Pamphlet,” and “Burn.” So much I wish I could tell you. Every detail is precious. Like that Maria Reynolds is the one to hand Hamilton the quill he uses to write the Reynolds Pamphlet. That Madison is disgusted by Hamilton’s actions. That Alexander’s life is literally a hurricane whirling around him as the Reynolds Pamphlet is released, taking him back to childhood. You can’t write your way out of this one, Alex.
How about Philip being forced to read the Reynolds Pamphlet? I had to cover my mouth when I saw that. Just … The pain. Oh, and “Burn.” Phillipa Soo’s performance was perf.
There’s a point where Alexander is deciding to choose whom to endorse in “The Election of 1800.” Burr and Jefferson are situated on opposite sides of the stage. Burr looks so hopeful because Alex is his friend, and it takes a minute for his smile to fade after realizing Hamilton chose Jefferson. Then the betrayal set in and I could not believe we were approaching the end of the show.
Alex grabbing Eliza’s hand before the duel, making sure she knows she’s the “best of wives and best of women” gives me life.
I lost my mind at “The World Was Wide Enough.” Hamilton’s internal debate on whether to fire. God, the way Burr’s voice cracked on “He will not make an orphan of my daughter!” At this point I forgot I was watching a play. I forgot this wasn’t real because I was so invested and I knew, I knew Burr was going to shoot Hamilton but it didn’t matter because I wanted it to be re-written. I wanted it not to happen and
Alexander doesn’t shoot. Alexander dies. The show ends on Eliza’s scream.
I will never clap that loud for anything again, I imagine. I can’t fathom doing so. I was wiping tears off my face when the cast came out for their curtain call. Just … I was so eloquent at the beginning of this post and now I’m one memory away from a blubbering mess. It’s such a great production, I encourage you to see it if you can. “The subject speaks its own importance, comprehending in its consequences nothing less than the existence of the UNION.”
Roman Reigns Appreciation Week - Day 3: Favorite Quotes
“When I want to say something, I’ll say it”.
“And if you ever touch me again, I’m gonna break your old ass in half”.
“Baby girl, actions always speak louder than words. Remember that.”
“Renee, do I look like I’m faceless, baby?”
“Nine stitches. Is that your best shot? Because if it is, you have so many problems.”
“You don’t tug on Superman’s cape, you don’t piss in the wind, and you don’t ever stab your brothers in the back”.
“I would cock here this fist, and I would make it rain in that bitch”.
“I just wanted to come out here and hear everybody tell you ‘you suck’ live”.
“Or maybe I could just punch you in your mouth right now”.
“It is what it is, Bray. Your big ‘un right there, he whooped our ass last Monday on Raw. But it ain’t the first time we been whooped, and it might not be the last, so if we’re going down, we’re going down swinging”.
“It’s three on three, and we’re gonna whoop y'alls ass.”
“Let me ask you, training wheels. Do you even respect him? Do you respect him as a man, as your leader? Because it just looks like to me like he’s a little bitch”.
“What, y'all can’t hear me or something?”
“This ain’t boring, baby. This is real life.”
“I agree with you 100%. But what you need to know is when they lock that cell, you are gonna be wishing you were trapped in there with anyone but me.”
“No matter what, we will always be brothers. Believe that!”
“We’ll jump off that bridge together – when the time’s right.”
“It’s me and you fighting for the championship, just like it’s supposed to be.”
“For real though, it wasn’t that long ago, at Royal Rumble…y'all know how it was. It was rough. But a lot of my progression and a lot of my motivation came from that night. So in a weird, hindsight way, thank you guys so much. Life ain’t fair. Sometimes you gotta get kicked in the ass to get better, and that’s what happened. And that’s why we’re here now! Thank you so much. I’ll never forget tonight!”
“Look Jojo, that’s the thing about me and Dean. We’re never on the same page. We might be in the same book, but definitely not on the same page. He’s crazy and I dig that about him. It makes us different. He’s got his own style. I got mine. What happened earlier tonight, that’s just an accident. We’re on the Road to Wrestlemania. Accidents happen. But at Fastlane, between me, Dean, and Brock, that’s not gonna be an accident. That’s gonna be an 18 car pile-up. That’s gonna be serious. Tonight, though, against Rusev and Del Rio, me and Dean…we ride together, we fight together, and we’re gonna win, together. Believe that.”