#I like to think the training room is like my old dance studio - no shoes or socks UNLESS they're clean + necessary

[lukazade]

They're helping each other out!

Just a sketch or whatever bc I'm trying to finish every wip in my folder,,,,,, whew,,,, some of this stuff is gonna be lackluster

[lexluvswriting]

ꔫ L'autunno.

☆ Ch: 1 [next page]

-> Pairing: Eris x ballet dancer!fem!reader.

-> Content Warning/CW: x fem!reader (she/her), slow-burn, rivals to lovers, tinkle of angst on occasion, fluff, non-specified identity Summer Court!reader, regarding canon ACOTAR time: after defeat of Hybern. live, laugh, love 2 lesbian mothers!!

-> Trigger Warnings/TW: Eris Vanserra, mentions of racism, mentions of discrimination, mentions of forced removal from homes (cant think of the name rn), Beron Vanserra is a massive cunt.

W/C: 2.8k

╰┈➤ Lex's note: omg eris fic is here grahhh!!! the title for this comes from Vivaldi's Four Seasons Concerto album, which i do listen to while writing this, yes yes. Eris has is a massive dick, but i'd like to hope he's a massive dick for a reason that will (hopefully) be revealed better. Hopefully, reader holds him accountable & gives him a run for his money!! (you will). While reader is fem for this fic, there's no specified identity (except being from Summer Court). There are a few referrals to racism using the Courts of Prythian & the fae, so if this feels triggering or hurtful, please let me know if it feels like it's written badly/insincerely! i'm merely basing such references off of personal & researched experiences. TYSM for reading, please enjoy <3

A violin filled the studio, wafting around like a strong scent- hypnotic as you inhaled deeply, eyes shut to steel yourself and count in before your arms swung up and out, fingers and feet pointed within your ballet shoes as you began to dance. Careful, calculated steps sent you spinning around the room- the perfect prima of your time. A prime example for those who dream to even come close to your level.

In a room of fire, your movements were fluid. In a room of embers, you were a tidal wave. Your body poise and malleable as you stretched yourself alluringly to those who watched as you swayed for the sweet symphony of violins. Eyes watched you from a concealed viewing platform high above- russet spheres simmering with a flame of interest that was bound to end in a fiery mess.

“Her. I want her to perform for the Equinox.”

“She’s quite the star, isn’t she?” Your mentor nodded, eyes twinkling with pride, before he wore his favourite facade- an arrogant smirk on his lips as he inspected his manicured nails. Eris’ face was impassive, yet any trained, or similarly minded individual would see the need for greed in his russet eyes as he glared down at you, pupils flaring possessively.

“She’s my starlet, young Lord. I cannot let her perform without any… payment. She will be put through harsh training- stretching, extension of her muscles, and her diet will be limited- to ensure she is tamed and perfect for the Lord’s family. I know the Lady of Autumn thoroughly enjoys the…” He trailed off nervously as Eris held up a silencing hand, the young heir fixing him with a cold stare- despite the fire in his veins.

“Spare me. Your pocket will be stuffed accordingly. But I warn you,” With one hand he grabbed the collar of the weaker male’s shirt with a predatory grace,

 She must be perfect, or else we won’t have her, and the only old you’ll see is the Vanserra signet ring imprinted in your cheek.” His hand clenched accordingly, the Vanserra signet ring- the emblem of the Autumn Court banners carved in the pure gold, making Gustav still and nod compliantly. The heir dismissively waved for a servant to hand your instructor a list before storming out- ignoring your dancing figure.

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

“Wrong! When we kick, our leg must come out-”

A cold hand clamped around your calf, another hand pushing just above your knee, the joint loose like a hinge. Your face was impassive- unmoving even as a small ‘pop’ echoed from somewhere in your knee. One of the junior dancers recoiled visibly, hiding her face behind her hands as a cluster of them watched you be used like a demonstration doll for your instructor.

“Stiff! Strong! Not flabby and weak. We are not caterpillars- we are butterflies. We are not brutish fires, we are?”

“Dancing flames.” The dancers replied in a drone of young feminine voices, with a few meek boys who looked like they were on the verge of clawing their eyes out. Gustav was being a right pain in the ass as always, but today he seemed more sharpened. Another lecture, another scolding, but it was always,

“For the better! I do this for your own good, my dears! When the Equinox arises and we are in front of your esteemed Lord, I know his lordship would enjoy seeing his dancers disciplined. Lean and poise. Controlled.”

The cold hand that held your leg squeezed once in warning- ‘I’m talking about you too’, before letting go, as your instructor sighed with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“That is why we dance the way we dance, and why I speak the way I do. Now leave me! And warm down appropriately or I will personally see to it that the muscles you take for granted will tear.” A curl of the lip in a low, warning snarl, before he waved with a sweeter disposition. 

“Adequate work today, my dears!” Footsteps echoed as the younger dancers left first, whispers filling the halls as they eagerly complained about their instructor. The older ones bid polite greetings of farewell as they followed, until you were the last to leave. The prima. Gus liked to call you the ‘Summer jewel in the Autumn box’.

“Ah, ah, ah! I mean it, my jewel. No going off and doing your own thing.” You pause. His voice carried a weariness of someone twice his age, before he covered it up with his usual airy arrogance, “The Lord will be hosting important families at this gathering. Something big is on the horizon and I know he will be watching you closely.”

Ah, yes. Kicking out all the non-fae and those who hail from other courts. The nationalist prick seemed to have no lost winks of sleep as he commanded his soldiers to haul families out in the night, dispatching them at random borders with no cares for the creatures that lurked with a taste for fae flesh.

“I’m aware, Gus. No sudden movements, no flashy shows of skill, Mother forbid I reveal I’m not some worthless foreigner with no talent.” You mocked mirthlessly, earning a sigh of defeat. 

“Wait a moment.” He roused, and the fingers that curled around your bag strap tightened slightly, your pointed ears twitching at the tone of his voice. But you slowly turned, a scowl on your unimpressed face as you nodded airly.

“You were selected personally to perform for the Vanserra family. Something about honouring the magic in the Autumn Court territory with dance and such.”

You paused, mind blanking, yet your demeanour remained even, “And you’re looking at me like that, why?”

He winced, knowing how keen you were to snap at any male- or anyone, really, who rubbed you up the wrong way.

“They left a list of… expectations. As in, mandatory requirements or they won’t let you perform. They expect you to be… um… Be polite, and uh, as he put it, ‘socially acceptable’. Speak in turn and only when spoken to-”

“He?” You snapped, visibly unimpressed and ready to pull out completely. What kind of prick-

“I don’t let you anywhere near me on a good day, Gustav. What in the Cauldron makes you think I’ll just-”

“They’re offering coffers of gold. The Equinox… well, after Amarantha… they need to regenerate the magic of the Autumn Court specifically, so they want to use the Equinox.”

You cringed at the mention of that sick tyrant, yet you weren’t going to just roll over and lie down because someone jingled a purse of gold. “What of the Spring Court and Calanmai?”

“I didn’t ask, because I know my place. And don’t start. I didn’t exactly feel like getting ripped a new one by the son of the Autumn Lord, [Y/N]-”

“Son? As in, Eris Vanserra? That oaf- that misogynistic, foul-mouthed, mentally decayed pig was here? And he spoke to you about me?” You snarled, lip curling back as you advanced forward slowly like a fox- a wolf, eyes narrowed.

“He’s offering coffers on behalf of his father, [Y/N]! Enough for you to be paid out well, and then some for the studio.” Damn right he put you first on the pay list, otherwise he wouldn’t have a damned head. Though, you personally couldn’t give a flying fuck about the Vanserra coffers. You wanted nothing of it, as tempting as it might have sounded.

“Get Nerissa to do it.”

“He wanted you-”

“I thought the family wanted me.”

“I… oh, fuck it- Fine! Eris came here alone! Came here alone, saw you, insisted on you with this list in mind and he said either you or no one at all.”

You or no one. You or nothing. You made a retch of disgust, laughing at the mental image. Who did he think he was? “Then I will snap my leg in half and shatter my bones into teeny tiny pieces for good measure.”

“[Y/N]-”

“I will swan dive off the nearest staircase.”

“No.”

“I’m not performing personally for a good-for-nothing family that are backwards in everything they do.” You reaffirmed, shaking your head, but Gustav stepped forward.

“[Y/N].”

“They singled out the non-Autumn Court dancer to perform for them. What powers do I possess to help the court that doesn’t even want us? A ‘summery breeze’? A ‘foreigner’s’ complexion? Absolutely not-”

“Please. We…” Silence, before a sigh. A sigh that made you glare silently. “I received a letter last night from the building owner. I’ve been falling behind on payments, and Beron’s financiers are… hungry- they see this old building and want to knock it down for something else. Something miserable and drab.”

You frowned, blinking at your instructor. Well, fuck. Your shared silence was long- his pleading, hopeful silence swirled like smoke with your prideful refusal, that melted like wax the longer it lingered.

“... Fine. But only because I enjoy this damned studio.”

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

Your life was, what you thought at least, a mixed bag. You were brought up in an orphanage- housing mostly Autumn children, all who seemed to smell the ‘impostor’ blood in your bones, weeding you out as an odd one out. Your appearance led the governess of the orphanage to believe you hailed from the Summer Court- as did russet and teal muslin you were wrapped in. You repurposed the seemingly sentimental piece of fabric into a scarf- letting it rest around your neck currently, as you walked down the path of the bustling town.

You were lucky to be recognised for your artistic performative abilities, earning a grant to allow you to perform in the Autumn Court’s national dance academy, as well as live in one the apartments they provided. Two old ladies next door adopted you as their honorary daughter, and you were grateful for their familial company, even if there was no blood relation. One of them, Ordelia, even pushed you to study at the grand scholar’s library, using her former connections to grant you access to all the education you could need.

It wasn’t wonderful. But it could be worse. At least you were making it on your own, sort of.

“Afternoon little doe! Will you come for dinner? Delia-dearest made pumpkin and feta soup the way you like it!” ‘Madame’ Primrose, one of your makeshift mothers, waved to you from her balcony, and you offered a small wave.

“Not tonight, I’m afraid. I’m on a strict diet of greens and grains.” You pat your stomach with a sympathetic wince- greens and grains. Like a bloody farm animal. The silver haired fae seemed to nod sympathetically and wave a hand.

“You’re always welcome, dearie.” 

You stopped for a moment, looking at an old fae sitting on the corner of the little road, a vendor selling flowers. The sun was dipping behind the horizon, staining the sky pink amidst the grey from the overcast weather that settled. You smiled at the older male who offered you a bouquet of lavender stalks and crocus bulbs.

Pretty.

Your eyes widened slightly as you beheld the bouquet, cradling it against your arm while you fished out payment. As you dropped some coins into his hand, a scream made you both look to one of the older complexes, where a woman was pulled out by some Autumn Court guards with two wailing children behind her. Any passersby walked quicker, ducking their heads, and when you looked back at the old male you realised he had been watching you. He gave you a nod, as if you’d know what it meant, and you swallowed before walking past, your head lower than before.

Beauty was hard to come by in the Autumn court, no matter how colourful it looked.

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

“Oh, it’s nasty business, it really is. My darling Ordelia was telling me how shameful he is- that Beron Vanserra. Nasty business. I remember his father- he wasn’t much better, but certainly more handsome.” You had succumbed to the dinner with your neighbour-mothers, though your portion of soup was smaller, as the sprouts and stalks you miserably chewed filled most of your stomach.

“You know, I could have married Beron.”

Your eyes widened, hand shooting up to cover your mouth as you didn't know whether to choke or chortle. “Primrose!” Ordelia huffed,

“I could have, you know! But I wasn’t interested in a man with no morals.” ‘Madame’ Primrose sighed wistfully, and you laughed softly behind your mouth while her wife rolled her eyes. While Ordelia had raven hair in a tight, disciplined bun, Primrose wore hers in a loose braid that cosied on her shoulder- her silver hair glistening in the gentle faelight of the small dining room you all sat in.

“You know, I hear that Lord Vanserra is looking for some pretty girls to match his sons. The heir will be attending the Equinox alone, can you believe it?” Primrose hummed, thriving off the gossip, but Ordelia watched you with a knowing stare- amused at the soft snort you let out.

“How fares the paper? Arwen mentioned that you were hitting some brilliant points. Politics might be your strong suit, should you grow tired of glamorous costumes and fast dances.” The Autumn-born female brought up your most recent studies, a ghost of a smile on her lips as she heard her wife scoff.

At a first glance, you used to wonder how they could possibly be mated. Ordelia, with her firm, reserved rigidness and disciplined personality, and Primrose- a Spring Court fae who was gossipy and eclectic, always buzzing with something to share. Ordelia was a former scholar for Beron’s family before she retired, while Primrose was the prima ballerina of her time, moving to Autumn in search of a grander role where she met her mate. Their love-story made you sigh a little every time you heard it, but you shook your head of distractions as you answered Ordelia.

“It’s um… definitely going. I feel a little foolish writing it but every time I hear about another family getting kicked out, I get even angrier, and determined to write more. Although… um, Gustav spoke to me about… performing a solo dance for the Vanserras. A part of the Equinox celebration-”

Primrose gaped at that, as if she had been asked to dance herself, “Oh, little dove! Well, what did you say? You worked for that position- I’ll tell you that for free! I can’t fit on my fingers the times I had to remedy your torn muscles. Did you say yes? Did you accept?” 

Ordelia nodded, taking a thoughtful sip of her soup before chuckling softly. “I would not be surprised if your radiance catches the heir’s eye. You’d be a different splash compared to the other dames he usually parades around on his arm. I think you’d certainly give him a run for his father’s money.”

“Ordelia dearest! What makes you think our little summer shell would even consider him?” Primrose voiced the disdain etched on your face, and you joked dryly, “I didn’t think you believed in fate and whatnot.” The Autumn female scoffed softly, shaking her head, “I don’t believe in fate, or destiny. I believe in the laws of attraction. You are everything his family lack, thus making you a match. Opposites attract.” You glanced at Primrose, and both of you made a childish noise of disgust as you shuddered, shaking your head as you finished off your meal.

“I’d rather have a kelpie as a bedside companion than Eris Vanserra.” You muttered, before taking all three plates to be cleaned. Laughter sounded softly behind you, and as you felt a small smile curl on your face, you abhorred the idea of being anywhere near the Lord of the Autumn Court and his family.

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

After bidding your goodnights, you retired to your own apartment, basking happily in the moonlight that shone through the silent space. Peace and quiet. The best way to finish off a bleak day. Your calendar stared you in the face, the Equinox marked in an angry scribble of orange ink. ‘End of the week!!’

What a day. You rubbed your face, feeling a stirring in your stomach as you thought about the Autumn Court. You glanced at the daily paper slid under your door, seeing Eris’ face on the front page- his smug, arrogant, wicked, slightly crooked, unnecessarily charming grin staring you in the face, making your stomach tug. ‘Eugh. Imagine being fated to that beast?’ You’d rather eat glass.

You looked at the paper, baring your teeth at the male’s face before ripping it off and crumpling it up. A swift kick sent it across the small apartment, under your couch, and stayed there for a while as you grumbled softly. You got ready for bed eagerly, excited for the day to be over, only to reach under the small sofa it had rolled under and pick it up again, making a face at it before leaving it on the small table.

╰┈➤ Lex's note 2: i think that's all for now!! readers, pls let me know how we feel about this!!! (privately, in comments, on inbox, i don't mind)!! also in search for a beta reader [i draft everything on google docs, don't hurt me] (T-T)

[needygamergal]

Animal crossing New lifestyle (fan idea)

New Horizons was good but I do have some small problems with it. Being able to choose our villagers and make them leave or stay by our will is very good…but it gets so painfully hard to choose just ten! Also when you have multiple tastes and want all kinds of themes it is hard to cram it all in one island. So what if we can have multiple towns we can decorate with different villages in each of them! We can organise the villagers into whatever town and if we want them to move out completely or move into another town of our own making! We can have separate towns that may have a modern look or a town with an old rustic look or even a spooky looking ghost town! We can make ten favourite squirrels of ours live in one town and call it Squirrels street! Another issue I had was of course the lack of unusual furniture, it’s hard to make a haunted house in new horizons… if we could have all of the old new leaf stuff AND new horizon stuff together in one game that would be just perfect!

This is a fan idea but I am hoping that maybe…just maybe if it gets enough attention then some or perhaps even all of these ideas will make it into the next game!

MULTIPLE SLOTS FOR TOWNS

We have a train much like in new leaf, we can also change the exterior of the train and change its color if we would like too. We use it to either travel to other player’s towns or to other towns of our own making. These towns will be smaller than the large island but still pretty spacious. I think being able to make up to 10 is a good number. 10 villages, 10 towns. Meaning you can choose up to 100! You can also name each town, street or lane and you can change the name too if you want too. You can terraform each area as well! You can also choose a biome for each, forest, meadow, beach, city or mountain. You can delete some and start a new slot fresh too is desired.

FACILITIES

I LOVE having the facilities in new horizons but I will say happy home designer did do it better as it had more to choose from. In each town you can choose whatever ones you want and place them where ever you want!

Choose from a list of making the following, a cafe, a restaurant, a grocery store, a clothing store, a toy store, or just a random store with anything you want, a library, a school, at theatre, a hospital, an arcade, a hotel, a crafting studio, a dance club and a gym! In each type it has its own dialogue for the characters. You can choose how many rooms each facility has, that way in the school you can have a locker room AND a principal’s office. You can choose what kind of feel it has so the villager’s may make comments on it sometimes. Does it feel normal, silly, cozy, cute, dirty or spooky! These will NOT change the look but what some villagers may say.

Example, spooky hospital you will have characters saying “Is it cold in here or is it just me…?” Or “I think I saw a ghost!” A dirty school you will have dialogue like “I found gum under my desk! That is so gross!” Or if it’s a lazy personality - “I found some free gum under my desk! This school is great.”

THE MAIN STREET

The Main Street is where all the default stores are, much like in new leaf there will be an area where you get your stuff that is separate from town. Tom Nook’s will be there, Kick’s shoe and bag shop, able sisters, the museum, the florist, happy home designers and perhaps some more NEW things! At Tom Nook’s you can help him expand it so it is bigger! There will be new items like new ingredients to buy for cooking, like chocolate, eggs, milk and basically a lot of the other things we couldn’t get from vegetables. A new store that would be wonderful would be a music store where you can buy some KK albums and some instruments and cassette players! It can be run by either KK himself or maybe a huge fan of his. In Leif’s florist you can now buy vases, pots and wrapping paper to make your own bouquets! You can either give these bouquets to friends or use them to decorate your home or perhaps even just hold them. Harvey’s Photo Booth will also be in the Main Street! In his Photo Booth it all functions the same as in New Horizons but with saved slots! You can use an app on your nook phone to save backdrops in the Photo Booth so you can simply bring all the decor back out if you want to reuse an old setting you had before. You can have about 300 for each room! You can also buy more pictures and frames from Harvey. Able sister’s will be about the same. Brewster will be there too of course! You can get some ingredients, already prepared meals and desserts, new recipes for cooking and of course some nice drinks! You can invite villagers there to join you as well.

JOBS

How about jobs? You can not only work as a happy home designer again but you can work at Brewsters as well! You can get paid lots of bells! You can also work at able sisters, Leif’s florist and even at Tom Nook’s! Each one has a little story and as you work you unlock more things available at their store! You can also help expand the store’s size! With happy home designer your job is to make vacation homes again but you can also decorate your own villager’s homes however you like again.

NEW NOOK APPS

We get the nook phone and it all seems the same but with more or course! In the designer app we have more slots than ever, complete with pages and pages to pick from and even a search bar! We can save hundreds perhaps even near a thousand of different designs, both special and normal. All is the same in the camera app but now you can decorate your picture using stickers! You can buy them at Nook’s or get them for helping villager’s. There are many different stickers to unlock! You can use the invite app so you can invite villagers to your place whenever you want, or you can invite them to the museum, shopping, just about anything! They will follow you everywhere until you say goodbye to them. You can also use amiibos with the invite app!

You can even invite multiple villagers to your home and host parties where you can dance with them and even hand out tasty treats you have made yourself (or purchased from Brewster). Sometimes these villagers may have conversations with each other while at your party!

YOUR HOME

You can choose to have your home anywhere you would like, in each town there is one slot for a free building you can use to decorate however you like. You can have multiple homes or you can have another slot where you can make another human villager to live there! But the train doesn’t ONLY go to your own streets and the Main Street…

There is one free meadow you can decorate and live in, you can turn it into a farm. It’s a private and remote place, villagers will not go there unless invited. You get one for each biome. Your private mountain, your private beach and your private forest. This makes it handy to gather extra materials and to farm plenty without taking up so much space in your towns.

You get lots of buildings of your own to do as you please but you have to select ONE as your real home. This is an easy thing that can be changed at any time. Although as you build each house in each area your storage gets bigger! You can have dozens of pages worth of storage, ten thousands of slots!

PLACES TO EXPLORE

Much like the mystery island we have mystery places to travel too. We can now go mining in caves with randomly generated maps to get gems and ore we can use for crafting or to sell for plenty of bells! We can go to islands again where we gather unique bugs and fish as well. Or we could even travel to old deserts where we dig up droids, fossils, bells and sometimes other treasures as well! We can go to randomly generated forests to cut down trees and collect randomly generated fruits, mushrooms, flowers and more! Sometimes…seasonal things will be there regardless of what season it really is in your time zone! For example, some random forests may have cherry blossoms even if it’s winter. This is a good way to try and farm a certain bug you want or a certain fish.

MORE OF THE SAME

We still have lots and LOTS of emotes to use whenever we please and can type and talk in the game! We can still send letters to villagers as well. We can still breed flowers as well. We have EVERYTHING good from the old games with great and amazing new things too! And of course everything from new horizons like the function of choosing our villagers.

NEW SPECIAL STUFF

We can now build a chicken coop to get eggs and a barn where we can milk cows. From what I noticed we have the villagers and then actual animals. So we get actual chickens and actual cows. We can also change the exterior of the barns and coops!

New villager species - BATS and LIZARDS!

Caves and mines to enter and explore!

Multiple villages on the same save slot so we don’t loose all our bells and can keep creating!

New hairstyles and all of the old hairstyles that ever existed!

Every bit of furniture that ever existed in one game and perhaps a few new ones too! I understand that they may never allow any pocket camp furniture to go into a switch game but…ALL of the others have gotta be included.

New ingredients we can buy to use for crafting and cooking! Chocolate, milk, eggs, marshmallows, caramel, herbs and more!

New things to grow and harvest, Cocoa beans, coffee beans, chilli peppers, tea leaves, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, bananas (Idk why they weren’t in NH but I miss them), Mango (same with mangos), lemons, watermelons, kiwis, avocados, grapes, cucumber, ginger, garlic, corn, peas and more!

HAVING MULTIPLE VILLAGERS IN OUR MULTIPLE TOWNS, it is so hard choosing just ten villagers and choosing to mix only about two themes on just one little island.

Fun facilities we can decorate and have multiple of! Dance clubs, giant malls with stores we can choose what to be (toy, clothes, groceries, etc). To be able to have multiple restaurants all with different themes in each town we can make!

Thousands of designer app slots!

Being able to invite a villager to follow us around and to hang out with at any time with the use of an app!

Photo Booth with saved room slots so we can reuse old set ups in future photography!

Have our villagers be able to interact with furniture like in pocket camp! Use a swing, hug a teddy bear, etc.

If this could be like our next animal crossing game I will be so happy!

[dreampedia]

♡ ┋ hirai momo. cis woman. she/her. lesbian. ⇝ hey, isn’t that akimoto mio? i think that the 28 year old from tokyo, japan works as dance instructor at alister's dance hall & studio and daycare worker at moon & sun daycare, but outside of that people describe them as pink and pink and even more pink; glittering hearts and all things lovecore; the scuffing of high-top trainers against the varnished floors of a dance studio; bodies moving, illuminated by the flickering city lights; dripping strawberry ice cream and shimmering pink lip gloss. i hear they are overemotional & easily distracted, but they are also known to be friendly & passionate. consider giving them a visit at their home in delilah's den gated community and get to know why they’re called the daydreamer.

the names above are written according to their native japanese format (surname, first name). to clarify, this character's given name is mio!

IMPORTANT LINKS: pinterest.

TW: suggestions of possible suicide

BASICS

Mio LOVES the colour pink! Maybe an unhealthy amount. She strongly believes that everything is better off being pink. It's her favourite colour.

However, she actually tends to dress mostly in blacks and whites but she'll definitely make room for coloured (usually pink) statements and accent pieces like her jackets, certain accessories and maybe even her shoes. She tends to go for a sort of athletic street fashion look. Pink, shimmery eyeshadow and lips are a Mio staple.

She has a pet cat, a cream and white tabby named Cream.

Mio has never been in a proper, long-lasting relationship and has mostly had a few short-lived flings. She doesn't sleep around (not that it would matter if she did) but it's just never turned out that way. However, she's a hopeless romantic at heart. Her ideal type is someone cool who might make her swoon a little. Also, as stated above, she's a lesbian. It's not something she has always been super open about but she's using her move to a new place to be as open about herself as possible.

Mio's a very energetic person who loves to help people but this means she's also very adept at getting in the way.

She loves doing cute nail art! She doesn't personally wear fake nails for practicality reasons but she likes painting her nails. She's entirely self-taught and pretty good at it!

Honestly, Mio is a muse I've been writing since 2016 -- seven years this February -- so I have a lot of thoughts about swimming around in my head but, for some reason, they're not coming to mind right now soooo hopefully you'll learn more about her through interactions! <3 I've updated her with an Anchorage-specific backstory though!

BACKSTORY

Mio was born in Tokyo, Japan as the second of two daughters. Her parents were an ordinary couple, still married to this day. Her sister, Rei, was born two years before Mio and was the subject of Mio's admiration for many years. Though very different in many ways, the sisters had always been close. In terms of money, her family were comfortable. Not wealthy but they weren't struggling either.

From a young age, Rei was trained in ballet and it was obvious she had a bright future ahead of her. She was the apple of her mother's eye and was very much pushed to pursue ballet as seriously as possible. Mio, on the other hand, was given a little more freedom. She shared her sister's passion for dance but was much more interested in styles like street and hip-hop. Her parents allowed her to pursue these passions but the price of her freedom was that they weren't anywhere near as invested in her efforts. Mio didn't mind too much, she loved her family.

As the years went on, the pressure got to Rei. It got to be too much and it broke her and she ran away from home. Mio was fifteen years old at the time and it threw her whole world into question. Her beloved sister was gone. But Mio was nothing if not compassionate and understanding. She never blamed Rei for leaving. Their parents’ expectations quickly shifted onto Mio and so she became a sort of stand-in for Rei, fulfilling their dreams of having a daughter who might find success as a dancer. It was evident that the suddenness of it all had been too much and they were far from ready to let go of this superficial goal. It didn't bother Mio at first and she even liked the extra attention but, before long, it became impossible to ignore the feeling of being a replacement. They hadn't wanted a dancer, they'd wanted a ballerina.

Once she graduated from high school, her parents used the money they'd set aside for Rei to send Mio to a dance university in Tokyo. It was around this time that Rei returned, looking like she'd been through Hell. Mio never found out everything that happened to her sister but she did accept her with open arms. But Rei never stayed long. For two years, she came and went, slipping through the cracks like a shadow. Eventually, she stopped showing up at all and Mio was back where she'd started. Mio's studies brought her to the States. She spent a few years in Los Angeles, finishing off her dance training and learning English before returning home to Tokyo again.

She would spend another few years in Japan, joining a dance crew and working actively as a dancer. She'd earned herself some attention for uploading dance covers online too. Everything was going well for Mio. She had a decent apartment in the city, she had her dream job, she had a cat that she loved. She was happy. But, one day, a letter came for her in the post. A letter from her sister. The letter itself was simple enough. A generic note to let Mio she was still around and to ask how things were going. But there was a note at the end, one that Mio couldn't ignore. 'Have you heard about Anchorage in Alaska?' she'd asked, 'People go missing there all the time. You could go there to vanish and nobody would even question it.'

Mio took this as a sign that she needed to move back to the States and find her way to Anchorage. She moved there with her little cat in tow, taking up residence in a hotel for a couple of weeks. There was no sign of Rei but Mio had already resolved to stay, now moving to a little cottage that her cat would likely prefer. At first, she told herself she was staying for Rei. If Mio had shown up too early, Rei might still come and if Mio had shown up too late, she wanted to stay as close to her sister's possible resting place as possible. However, there was something else keeping Mio there.

All her life, Mio has wanted to help people. She was always preoccupied with checking up on people, occasionally to the point of being a little annoying. Given what sort of place Anchorage was, she felt guilty about the idea of leaving. It seemed selfish to run off just because it was a little scary. Besides, she'd grown to like the people here. If nothing else, Anchorage was a fascinating place.

Mio has been in Anchorage for about a year now. She's still active as a dancer, practicing whenever she gets the chance and uploading her choreographies online for people to see, but she's since taken up a second job as a daycare assistant. She knows she can't really do much to help the people of Anchorage but perhaps providing the children born into this strange environment with a sense of calm and safety was a good place to start.

[alluringjae]

queen of hearts - sjn

summary: for the first time, one of your star students hasn’t been fetched right after class. but when she finally does, you weren’t expecting such a fine man to be her father.

pairing: johnny x female reader

word count: 5.5k

genre: fluff, romance, comedy | ceo and single dad!johnny + ballerina!reader + modern day!au

warnings: mentions of an absent parent, johnny being an overthinker, sexual innuendos (ten saying dilf hehe), slight explicit language, technical terms of ballet, a mini reference to mean girls

author’s note: sooo i came in touch with my former dance life, which led me to write this. there are links for the variations i used; their names are underlined when they’re mentioned. i am going to get technical with ballet terms here (even when my ballet knowledge decreased), so to any dancers reading, i really did my best, so please don’t come for me or do correct me for any mistakes.

although one character and her dance background, plus the name of the setting, are real, everything else about it is still a work of fiction.

i miss dancing, no cap.

leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Ballet student and teacher by day, a soloist of the Korean National Ballet at night.

This was your daily routine, and it wasn’t the typical 8-5. But it’s debatable whether or not it was worse, because you’re always going overtime. That’s the thing when you’re an overachiever. Nonetheless, you loved what you do. It’s the lifestyle you gradually built since your preschool days.

Mornings on the weekdays were mostly vacant since all the kids were still in school. You’d start at 10 am for a warm-up class for the company. Before you delved into teaching and assisting, you’d train right after your lunch break. Partnering class, en pointe class, 1-on-1 sessions with choreographers, self-practice, then the company night class, that’s the organization of your week.

Now adding the teacher title, you mostly handled kindergartners to 5th graders in the academy aspect of the company. Your first teaching class would start at 1 pm. It’s when the younger students who finished their morning classes zoom into your assigned dance studio. One class would last an hour and a half, then you have a 30-minute break in between another class with the older kids. Their lesson repertoire was more strenuous due to the added across-the-floor lessons and jumps. Water was always your best friend, water refilling stations located everywhere in the company building.

You wouldn’t say you’re a strict teacher, but you weren’t shy to correct anyone from wherever you stood. You’d lightly align their arms or back properly so your students were working on the correct body parts. Compared to the other teachers, a lot of students enjoyed your kind yet frank approaches. Your former students, who’ve already gone to the higher levels, missed your lively presence and wished repeatedly that they want you back as their teacher.

“Teacher (Y/N), I miss you so much! Teacher Ten is so intense. I get the jitters especially when we’re en pointe on the floor.”

“Teacher (Y/N), Teacher Sicheng and Teacher Seulgi scare the heck out of me during partnering class. Especially when I tried to lift my partner, I keep losing focus because of Teacher Sicheng’s never-ending comments!”

Not to be sadistic, but you’d simply laugh at their minuscule complaints. Even if they’re struggling in the academy, those comments were directed to fix their techniques if they wanted to breakthrough.

“Kids, you’re going to be fine! They wouldn’t say or do those things just because they wanted to. They’re here to push you to the next level, like how I used to do with you. It’s a cut-throat industry after all.”

This was always your reply, bittersweet and truthful. Not everyone makes it, unfortunately, so if you’re really striving, you’d do whatever it takes. Throughout your career, you’re relatively impressed with how far you’ve come.

Trainee at 17, Corps de Ballet at 18, Demi-Soloist at 21, and Soloist at 23.

You’ve been a soloist for 4 years. The final stage, which was to become a principal dancer, is your running goal. Becoming a soloist was praiseworthy enough because you’ve seen so many give up in the Corps, but claiming a spot as a principal dancer has been the ultimate dream. Since you’ve watched Swan Lake for the first time at 4 years old with your parents, that’s where you found a passion for dancing and the stage. Here you are years later, practicing numerous variations daily, performing in opera houses, and mentoring all these gifted kids.

Your last class with elementary kids, which began around 5 pm, reached its end once all the students curtsied in front of you and scurried to their mothers or their nannies. The remaining plan on your agenda today was the company class at 7:30 pm, which exceeds the average hour and a half. It’s worse during show season. There have been times everyone went beyond midnight to polish every scene from head to toe.

Currently, there’s no upcoming show for the public, though the annual summer recital for the students was around the corner. Selected members of the company were chosen to perform individually in it, which was both exciting and intense. It’s also because it’s an evaluation on whether you’d get promoted in status or staying put. You’ve partaken in 3 recitals in the past, two of which elevated you from the corps and demi-soloist ranks. The recent one, however, didn’t change your soloist ranking.

It was a major first in your career in ballet, and after finding out the result of the latter, it emotionally pained you. Recalling how much soul you put into that piece, the rejection from your artistic director clenched your heart. Though in time, you moved on from it and viewed it as a stepping stone. Also, Sicheng and Ten personally stormed your apartment to pull yourself together with wine and pizza after going on a short leave.

Since you were trainees, Sicheng and Ten were your best friends in and outside the company. Working daily to occasional barhopping, that’s your youth summed up. It wasn’t because you didn’t like the girls you’ve worked with (though a lot of them were fake and bitchy), but these two were frank and humorous as hell. Together, you’d help each other with your goals rather than be competitive. Over time, Ten leveled up to a principal dancer for 2 years running while you and Sicheng were still soloists. The way you’d watch Ten take all the big roles, that’s where you want to be one day.

Back in your last teaching class, the entire dance room was vacant. Since it’s mainly used for ballet classes, you’d either run through anything you’ve practiced from the company classes and polish it or warm up a little bit more.

Except for today, this was the only free time to sew a new pair of pointe shoes because your current ones were dead. Dead in a sense that the hard shell turned soft, which won’t be able to support you when you’re up on your toes. You’re not taking any risks of minor injuries especially when you’re in the current lineup of company members performing for this upcoming recital again. You have to prove to everyone that you deserve a position as a principal dancer.

As your legs sprawled in a half middle split, your sewing equipment laid in front of you like you’re about to perform surgery, a tiny girl stood by the ajar studio doors. In her neat bun and holding on to her small duffel bag, you’re convinced everyone has gone home already since it’s quite late.

You may have your priorities as a company member, but she was still your student.

“Minji!” You shouted her name, speedily waving your hand. You’re not one to have favorites, though you couldn’t help wonder how extraordinary she was. She’s always taking charge in demonstrating the lessons to everyone and improving every session in the 3 years she’s joined the academy. “Come in! Come in!”

At age 7, she’s gotten taller through the years, above the average from how you see it. She must have amazing genetics. Her legs sauntered in seconds to you. Sitting down across you, she marveled at your setup. Specifically, at the fresh pointe shoes.

“Are those yours, Teacher (Y/N)?” She perked up, caressing its soft fabric and playing with the mini bows of the drawstrings.

“Yes, it is, Minji!” You answered while trying to insert the thin thread through the small eye of the needle. “Why are you still here? Is your nanny stuck in traffic or something?”

“My nanny went on sudden leave, so my dad’s the one fetching me. But I think he’s running late from his job.”

Oh, this was a first to know about her father. In all the years she’s been your student, you rarely caught sight of him, even in recitals. Maybe he sat in an unknown section, but you’re pretty much acquainted with all the parents of your students. Even if some were snobbier than the rest because they wanted their child to have more stage time, you still got to know them out of respect. Quite odd, if you said so yourself.

After deep concentration, the thread triumphantly passed through the eye so you tied the two ends of the thread in a double knot. Seeing as Minji attentively watched you, you tasked her to cut the ribbons of your shoes according to the trail of pencil marks. This was so she wouldn’t cut it too short or too long. While she did that, you hammered your shoes against the floor to soften the hard front, bending the shank back and forth so the arch of your feet could move without difficulty later.

Minji wasn’t expecting such loud sounds, her entire body shaken awake. Her facial expression was priceless, explaining to her, “Once you get your first pointe shoes in a few years, this is one of the basic things you need to do so your feet won’t hurt too much while dancing.”

“Will you be there to teach me how to make my pointe shoes?”

“Absolutely! Come to me first then I’ll mentor you all that I know.”

The process of sewing and breaking new pointe shoes engraved your mind since your adolescent years, with changes along the way. Inspired by some tricks from your former teachers, but there were some differing rituals you followed. There’s no definite process of it, just as long you’re comfortable to dance after.

With your feet, you stepped on the hard boxes of the shoes to soften it more, creating a popping sound. Followed by sewing your elastic bands in. For your ribbons, you liked to burn the edges with a lighter so the thread of it won’t run. Kindly asking your cute assistant for the lighter beside her, you scanned the edges back and forth the flame. In seconds, the edges had a distinct mark, fully closed. From there, you slid your feet to your shoes to make final sewing adjustments. Sewing your ribbons took you another few minutes, plus adding superglue inside the shoe so the shoe won’t collapse when it unstiffens and scratching the shank with a cutter so you won’t slip later while dancing.

Voila, the final product is done! Hopefully, it can last you a week at least.

“Wow, Teacher (Y/N), it looks pretty!” Minji applauded, collecting the mess you’ve both made to dispose of later. You, on the other hand, gave her your thanks once you applied some bandages on your big toes and put on your toe pads. Slipping inside the shoes and tying them, you rose up back to your feet and headed to the bar to break them in. From plies-relevésto forced arches, the shoes gave you the sensation that they were an extension of your feet. The ease flowed through, meaning you were ready to practice your variations.

While you stepped your shoes in rosin for friction, your curious student moved to the front where the mirror lied to watch what you’ve prepared.

“What variation are you dancing to?”

“This is the Gamzatti variation from La Bayadere.” You replied, tapping the play button on your phone and racing to your position on the side. Talking a short ballet walk, you strongly prepared your arms before the music of the orchestra takes off.

This variation consisted of a lot of jumps and turns. Grand jetés, attitude turns, chaîné turns, you needed a lot of core control and proper spotting so you won’t get dizzy. The thrilling music lessened your nerves because you enjoyed learning this piece from one of the principal dancers, smiling and letting the music guide your legs. Once you nailed 3 consecutive grand jetés, the variation ended with a sus-sous and the wrists of your hands flicking upwards.

Holding it for 5 more seconds, you landed back on your feet with heavy breathing and a need for water. But before you could, small claps and cheers from Minji in front erupted. Momentarily, you’ve forgotten her presence because dancing solo puts you in your own space. You’d never let anyone take you away from it.

“Teacher (Y/N), that was wonderful! Are you performing that in the summer recital?”

Yikes, she’s right but she wasn’t meant to see it yet. Solo performances from the company members for the recital were top secret, only unveiled during the production rehearsal. Well, you didn’t think this through, but you didn’t mind.

“Can you keep a secret?”

Time ticked a lot faster today, only 10 minutes left until the company class on the ground floor whereas you were in the second. Just a few steps down the stairs away, yet Minji was still here. You only presumed that within your hour break, her father could’ve made it already. But maybe he’s stuck in traffic or at work.

“Minji, my class starts soon. Have you contacted your father?”

“I already texted him earlier, but he hasn’t responded. This happens often, he’s a busy man.” She bowed in front of you suddenly. “I’m sorry, Teacher (Y/N) for the hassle.”

“Oh no, please!” You shook your hands so she’d stop. Because this situation was relatively new, you were unsure of how to handle it. Or that was until you remembered what Ten texted you earlier. “Minji, the blinds of the main studio are going to be lifted so anyone from the outside can view us practicing. Would you like to watch until your dad gets here?”

With her insistent nodding, she situated herself in one of the seats in the front row. When you entered the main studio, your two close companions already carried a metal barre to the center and leaned towards it while observing you walking to them in your flat shoes.

“I see we have a bit of an audience here.” Ten glimpsed at the young girl, astonished by the many dancers prepping and chatting away with their cliques from the glass barrier.

“Her dad isn’t here yet, and you did say the blinds were up today. Might as well give her a show while she waits, you know.” You lifted your right leg to the top barre, stretching it with your arms.

“Hmmm, shouldn’t her dad be more cautious though? It’s getting late and it’s a Thursday. Doesn’t she have school or something?” Sicheng pointed out, discarding his muscle tee to straighten out his leotard.

“That’s not my business though. She’s just my student, and since she’s still here, I have to entertain her while she waits.”

Before your friends said anything back, the artistic director of the ballet company strutted her way to the center of the room. It’s a common rule here that once she entered, everyone must be silent to listen and race to any free spot in the numerous barres spread out if they haven’t.

“Alright, everyone. We’ll do the typical barre, then before doing across the floor exercises, I’ll be requesting those performing solos already in the recital to dance any variation tonight as another evaluation on who deserves to perform twice.” She eyed the pianist directly beside her. “Proceed first with two demi-pliés then one grand plié. Don’t forget to do the port de bras of each position.”

As the live piano music played, your focus was divided. Partly properly executing the exercise while your artistic director roamed each barre area, partly thinking about what variation to perform. This was a first for the company, and everyone was just stunned to hear the breaking news. It’d be nice to get an extra opportunity to showcase to people your potential.

30-40 minutes flew by quickly. As the guys carried the bars to the side to clear out the floor and the girls changed to their pointe shoes, the artistic director ordered all the performers of the recitals to stand in a line in front of her. Everyone else was seated around the room, so the interested eyes of everyone were on you. There were 10 performers, half are from the corps and the other half are either demi-soloists or soloists. You and Sicheng stood beside each other, internally shaking with nerves under the intimidating eyes of the artistic director. She used to be a principal dancer for the Stuttgart Ballet in Germany before moving back to Seoul, making her undeniably capable of leading all of you.

“Okay,” From her seated position observing the 10 performers, her finger pointed at you directly. “Ms. (Y/L/N) (Y/N), you perform first.”

Your nerves intensified and more sweat streamed out your upper body. Even if going first felt more relieving, no one was ever brave enough to perform individually in front of the esteemed artistic director. Principal dancers aside from Ten that you’re close with were intimidated when they have 1-on-1 or partnering sessions with her. But anyhow, in less than 2 minutes, you’d be done. This wasn’t the first time she’s had your full attention either, so you’ll treat it like the other individual performances you’ve had.

You smiled to yourself when the other soloists left you alone, while you gave the name of the variation you’re dancing to the pianist. Running to the side to put on a practice tutu, the artistic director asked, “What will you be dancing for us tonight, (Y/N)?”

“I’ll be dancing Queen of the Dryads from Don Quixote.”

The last time you did this variation was 3 years ago during the recital that didn’t change your position as a soloist. Even if this variation hurt to think about for a while, it was still one of your favorites to watch and do. Moving on, you could only muse how powerful and beautiful you felt at that time. This isn’t an easy piece to perform in your opinion. Yet according to the members of the company, this was their favorite solo of yours.

As the starting notes unfolded, you took a deep breath and elegantly walked into the frame. You only wished you wore your fake crown again for this. Minimal smiling and light arms, you imagined yourself as an actual queen who captured the eyes of many. In this case, your fellow seniors and juniors held their breaths at the captivating sight of you.

Off you go into a series of glissade jeté developpé on relevé at elevating heights, then a fouetté arabesque and another arabesque on relevé before ballet walking again to the side to dance across the stage. Sissonne to the front, right developpé to the front on relevé, pique to prepare for a single pirouette, you gracefully did a chassé to the front twice and stood on your toes with a sus-sous.

Doing it a few more times, the climax of the entire variation was nearing. Returning to the center, you took another deep breath and lifted your left leg for the Italian fouettés. Spotting to the front and back while maintaining your balance, the variation approached its end with lame duck turns, posing with your arms were positioned at a 45-degree angle, your back slightly arched and your left leg doing a tendu derriére. Your eyes reflected at the mirror in front, surveying your alignment. Once your 5-second hold was finished, you properly put your arms down and closed your back leg into 5th position.

The applause from everyone in the room roared, Ten and Sicheng wolf-whistling even for more support. It’s a usual thing every time any of you perform individually, and no one minded it. The artistic director grinned, giving a quiet clap from the front before calling out the next performer, who was from the corps. Bowing to everyone hastily, you paid more attention to spot your student by the window. She was smiling ear to ear, waving both hands at you.

“You did amazing, Teacher!” She mouthed. Hearing words of praise from members was one thing, but hearing them from students was another. You’re so used to watching them and giving them your compliments that you often forget that you’re a dancer first before a teacher. Seeing them all delighted, saying that it motivates them more, showed that you’re doing a great job teaching them. You’re a reflection of what you pass down, and all you want was for them to be the best they could be.

From her jolly expression, a tall masculine silhouette hovered a part of the window. Her instinct of giving a brighter smile when the hand of said silhouette patted her head then carried her duffel bag again, that could only mean one thing. Excusing yourself to the artistic director, you stepped out to bid your goodbye and maybe meet her father. Minji and the tall man were about to leave the building if it weren’t for your breathy voice calling them out.

“Seo Minji and Mr. Seo?”

They stopped their tracks. Minji was fast to react, familiar with your voice and racing towards you for a sweaty hug. Meanwhile, your focus shifted once the masculine silhouette came into full view. You finally understood why Minji’s growth spurt spiked up, noticing that he was taller than Sicheng.

The top buttons of his shirt were off, yet he kept his formal blazer on. His hair was a bit tousled, some strands falling in front of his forehead. He must’ve run here. Peeking through were some roots of his scruff growing. His eyebags were almost as dark as his brown hair. Yet by the way his Rolex remained spotless, you blatantly assumed that he was more than well-off. Especially when the ballet academy was one of the most prestigious ones in Seoul.

Out of all the parents you’ve met, none of them appeared youthful like him.

“Teacher (Y/N)?” Thanks to Minji, you moved your staring eyes away from him. This was another first, since meeting only the fathers of your students wasn’t your norm. Meeting young-looking fathers, to be specific.

“O-Oh,” You ate your words, suddenly blanking out. “You’re leaving me without saying goodbye, Minji? Not polite of you.”

“My father was rushing right after watching your performance, and I don’t know why.” She responded, her finger scratching the top of her head in confusion. Speaking of said father, his strong presence appeared right in front of you. The wrinkles of his forehead creased while his eyes barely looked at yours.

“Uhm,” His fingers toyed with his Rolex. “I apologize for my tardiness. I got caught up in work and all, plus her nanny le-”

“Mr. Seo.” You halted his rambling, already aware of the situation. Like father, like daughter. “It’s fine. Minji loved watching us practice while waiting, and she wasn’t a bother either. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Phew.” He swiped an imaginative bead of sweat from his forehead, displaying his relief with his playful nature.

At age 23, Johnny Seo started his own company in the fashion scene and it grew internationally in the coming years. Then when Minji unexpectedly joined the picture, he’s been multi-tasking to make ends meet. Lately, as a CEO, he has had meetings and conferences on a daily. So, his position as a single father was always tested. It worsened when he rarely has proper time to spend any time with Minji unless it’s the weekend or late in the evening. Breaking it down, it wasn’t because he didn’t want to meet you. It was more like he couldn’t when his schedules were packed from head to toe.

Having the guilt of taking your precious time, “Seriously though, I am sorry for being late. Her nanny resigned suddenly, and I have no time to find her replacement.”

“Mr. Seo, again, don’t worry about it. As her teacher and a company member, I am practically here 24/7 so it won’t be a nuisance at all if this happens again.”

“Thank you so much, Teacher (Y/N). That is your name, right?” He planted his palm on his forehead, stressed. “Being a single parent is hard. I am always forgetting things.”

A part of you couldn’t restrain from feeling sorry for his struggle. Taking care of a child should be the work of both the mother and father, not one of them being absent. You’ve feared this would harm Minji, but she’s a strong girl.

“The fact you didn’t forget to fetch Minji despite the late time is still something to be happy over. I’m not a parent or anything, but parenting, in general, is a challenge.” You added an insight, patting the head of the young girl beside you. “Cut yourself some slack, Mr. Seo. I’m sure Minji still loves you, right?”

Minji shouted a big yes, now clinging to the leg of her father. “It’s okay, dad. Really.”

Over the years, Johnny has been doubtful of his parenting skills. He was an only child, and he struggled to ask for guidance from his own parents due to the shame of having a kid at a young age. So, he’d ask for help from his other friends and co-workers. No matter how many times they’ve reassured him that he’s doing well, he’s an overthinker who always reflected on the bad scenarios. There’s also that pressure to find someone who can fill that absent position not just for Minji, but for himself too. No matter how many girls he’s asked out or been set up with, he failed in the love department badly.

It’s the soothing way you voiced out your truth that made all these negative thoughts running through his head freeze briefly. Over the past 3 years since Minji started ballet, she always had a great story about you to share. One of them was how ballet made her a lot happier because of your influence. If he had at least an hour of his day to meet any of his daughter’s mentors, it would’ve been you.

“Do feel free to call me Johnny instead.” He casually introduced himself, taking his hand out for you to shake. “Mr. Seo makes me feel like I’m at work right now.”

Despite his informal approach, you understood his intentions and returned the action with a promising smile. “Pleasure to finally meet you, Johnny.”

“Pleasure is all mine, Teacher (Y/N).”

Earlier, the nerves from performing in front of the artistic director died down fast. But for some reason, they rose back up when you’ve spoken to this man in a matter of minutes. As someone whose feelings don’t flourish in a single glance, why did this man specifically deliver you such a strong effect?

If it weren’t for Ten calling for your name by the door, you would’ve held on to Johnny’s hand longer, which would’ve been inappropriate. Letting go first, this was your cue to return to your class.

“I must head back inside, Johnny. Don’t sweat on fetching your daughter late, though she is still a student with school the following day. Right, Minji?”

Minji nodded as Johnny kept that mind, knowing where he has to improve next.  “Yes, Teacher (Y/N). Thank you again, sincerely. I’ll definitely see you again in the coming days until Minji has a new nanny.”

“That’s no problem with me at all, Johnny.”

Soon as Johnny held his daughter’s hand to exit the studio and you were re-entering the studio with an impatient Ten, he swerved swiftly as if he forgot something.

“Oh by the way Teacher (Y/N), I saw your whole performance awhile ago. I was blown away, you deserved the applause.”

Although you could only distinguish his silhouette, you didn’t suppose he watched you from head to toe. Most parents or nannies would’ve dragged their kids out of the studio once they find them like they were on a tight schedule, so this was novel to experience. That performance showed your prime too.

“Thank you, Johnny. See you again soon.”

Giving a final nod, you led yourself back to the studio, not bothering to acknowledge the erupting heat on your cheeks and entire body. Not to sound narcissistic, but compliments weren’t foreign to you. You’re conscious of the hard work that you put in your talent and if they pointed out your greatness, why would you deny it? However, receiving one from Johnny was like gearing your engine with new fuel.

Before you could try to reject these harboring feelings, Ten was fast to pick up on it. You cannot hide anything from this man at all because body language was like another language he’s fluent in (aside from the other 5). Unlucky for you, the saga continued.

“You’re so into dilfs, (Y/N)!” He shrieked in your ear, nudging your shoulder repetitively. He placed things in his own way, yet they always shocked you because it was so inappropriate. Typical Ten for you.

“Shut up, Ten!” You objected, watching the other performers. You’ve improved in ignoring his remarks over time. That was until Sicheng sat down beside you after his solo and got up in your business. That placed you in the middle of boys from the water sign clan of astrology. They just loved getting down to your love life, going raunchy and whatnot.

“Who’s into dilfs, Ten?”

“A Miss (Y/N) beside you, who met Minji’s dad awhile ago, was basically eye-fucking him.” Ten elaborated, planting his elbows on your leg and gave you a sneaky glare. “Minji’s dad is fine as fuck, guys! I’m telling you, like a literal god! I’m surprised this is the first time he showed up here after 2-3 years?”

“How come (Y/N) is always getting students with good-looking parents? Especially the single moms.” Sicheng slumped his shoulders, attempting to get your attention too. “Is he that hot, (Y/N)?”

“Yah.” Sighing with annoyance, you’ve given up trying to appreciate one of the corps dancers with her rendition of Dulcinea from Don Quixote. “Don’t speak of Johnny like that. You barely know the man, yet you talk about him so unprofessionally."

“Oh, Johnny is his name, huh?” Sicheng sing-songed, bobbing his head. He’s certainly going to stalk him later on social media, you felt it in your chest. Like it was ESPN or something.

“Talking about being unprofessional, yet you’re here referring him as Johnny, not Mr. Seo.” Ten barked back, his lips pursed and one eyebrow lifted.

Just as soon as you could retaliate, the artistic director’s velvety voice boomed the room.

“Alright, thank you to the performers. I will deliberate with the staff and principal dancers over the weekend, and let you know the results on Monday. Now please, let’s proceed to the center.”

Everyone began to spread out on the wide floor, snatching a good position so they could monitor themselves in the mirror. Maybe you’ll defend yourself later after class because now, you needed to beat everyone else and have a crystal-clear view of yourself doing these following exercises.

In the meantime, Johnny was in the middle of driving Minji home. He had a designated chauffeur, but he gave him the night off because he wanted to spend time with Minji. Around this time, she’d be sleeping soundly, but instead, she’s boosting with so much life. She hasn’t even eaten dinner yet, which was the first thing on Johnny’s agenda now.

Playing Coldplay in the car, Minji belted some lyrics from her favorite songs while Johnny smiled to himself while listening to her attentively. Taking a breath, her thoughts reverted to her fantastic ballet teacher and shared them with her father.

“Dad! Don’t you just think Teacher (Y/N) is so cool? Ugh, I want to be just like her when I grow up.”

“Oh, to become a ballerina like her, you have to work hard every day and memorize lessons fast. Are you up for it, Minji?”

“Absolutely, dad! I want to pull off perfect jumps and turns like her one day!”

In the other after-school activities Johnny enrolled Minji in the past, none of them compared to the passion she had for ballet. Her work ethic was alike to Johnny’s: if they want something, they’ll do whatever it takes to make it possible.

Aside from being a star student in her school, she’s aiming to be a star ballerina. Being the supportive father he is, Johnny was on board to do what it takes to make it happen. Unlike his parents trying to mold him into the next heir of their company, he’s all ears to the dreams of his daughter. His only dream for her was to be live long and happy, not to merely pass on anything.

Johnny lost so much in his young life, so he doesn’t want to lose Minji in any way. As much as he loves his profession, he wanted to be an active father as much as time allowed it. He mostly received complaints from others that he’s not prioritizing his time well, but after hearing your kind words, this heavy weight on his shoulders decreased. All this doubt started to vanish after meeting you for the first time.

“Dad! Isn’t Teacher (Y/N) so beautiful?” Minji honored whilst gazing at the twinkling night sky. “She loves what she does and shines at it.”

Johnny was accustomed to his female co-workers throwing themselves at him due to his attractiveness, more than flattered even to have them feeling weak for him. Yes, there were times he used it to his advantage, some he frankly turned down. 

However, the radiance you carried whether you’re dancing or not was something Johnny couldn’t cease wondering about. Unknown to him, he’s the one getting weak. Behold, an unlocked first for the confident CEO.

“Yes, Minji. I do think Teacher (Y/N) is absolutely beautiful.”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

red | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Sometimes, he thinks about her. It's long gone and there was nothing else he could do, but still he wonders... just between them, did the love affair maim her too, all too well?

warnings: language, angst (heartbreak), implied smut

technically, you can think of it as any BTS member/you or any BTS member/OC, but it was written with Yoong in mind, because he is always on my mind

--

He sometimes thought about her.

It was that time of year, when the leaves fell and crumbled to dust under the footfalls of passerby.

Then the snow would come and turn the world into ice.

He thought it would become less clear as the years went on, but he remembered everything all too well, especially at night when he was in his living room at his apartment. He would sit in the chair by the window and look out at the city, watching the rain, falling, falling, falling, tok, tok, tok, and her smile would appear in the reflection of the glass, slightly cocky, treacherous allure, and far too beautiful with her wild hair cascading down her shoulders, draping over a black leather jacket.

He was young.

She was young.

He had thought he was invincible, but deep down some part of him knew she was trouble when she walked in. Not a care in the world, reaching over and flicking a lock of hair out of his eyes, the sudden touch sending chills down his spine. Nudging his glass with hers, telling him to take a sip with her, touching his knee under the bar.

He wondered about her.

Wondered if she still stayed up late and spent that time dreaming instead of sleeping, toying with those indie records that were much cooler than his, colorful cover art and bands he had never heard of, putting them on her father’s old record player and enjoying the scratchy sound of age. Dancing in her underwear, looking so, so sexy in her matching bra and panties, a color that he always remembered.

Burning red.

She would place her hand on her chin and look at him, asking him strange questions that he thought were weird at the time. Things like, when was the moment you knew you wanted to make music, and, do you ever feel lonely when you’re surrounded by people, and, have you ever done something that you knew would hurt you but did it anyway? At the time, he felt they were rather obtuse things to be asking when she and him were in their underwear, but he had no reason not to answer, so he always did.

Little by little, she memorized him, his fears, his hopes and dreams.

He regretted it.

He regretted not asking her for the answers to her own questions.

It all moved so fast.

One moment it was kisses in the dingy local bar, the next moment it was delving into his deepest thoughts in her bedroom, and the next was lips to lips, tangled in blankets, pulled by her irresistible attraction. Reservations and hesitations thrown aside, blocking all that noise with the sound of, I need you, hot and wet and tight, feeling so good that it couldn’t be wrong, her hands on his skin and his on hers, bodies sliding against the sheets, the mattress sliding on the bedframe, sliding into bliss.

At the time, he thought he was the one that would ruin it.

That was how it always was before.

Heated moments and passionate physicality, but emotionally distant, too busy in his music studio chasing dreams he wasn’t sure he could achieve, letting the train run off the tracks, trying to fix it with a kiss, getting slapped in the face, and being left alone.

That was how it always was before.

Yeah, well.

Not this time.

He found himself looking at her face after the pleasure had died down. Her eyes had been closed and she was catching her breath, yet she seemed to feel his gaze on her. Those lashes lifted and she turned her head, treacherous smirk dancing on her lips kissed to burning red by his fervor.

Her eyes were like coming home.

He missed her even before he yanked on his shoes and walked out of her bedroom.

He knew she would hurt him, but he had already decided to do it anyway. There was no way she was a saint, there was no way she had anything more than a mosaic broken heart, there was no way, no way, no way that he was going to make it out of this in one piece, but he didn’t care that he knew there was going to be a last time, didn’t care that he would never be the same, didn’t care and kept going, never looking down.

It all moved so fast.

You want to do something crazy?

He thought that just meant doing too many shots or driving too fast on an abandoned road, but doing something crazy meant dressing in a red satin dress and his one suit, sneaking into a yacht club party, and pretending to be a duchess and prince. Dancing by the sea and starlight, somehow getting away with that shit. He didn’t know how she did it. Silver tongue and charming smile, perhaps. He should have known, should have known with how easy she got those old coots to believe every lie she spun, a brilliant web that he could barely keep up with.

Should have known, did know, didn’t care.

And the night ended with her locking them in the pool room with one of the sticks lodged in the door handles and crawling onto one of the scarlet pool tables, kisses that tasted like forever, red lipstick all over his jaw and neck, clothes fumbled open, making a mess, so fast, it was all so fast.

He had thought then, maybe.

Four in the morning, showing up at his doorstep, saying things like, I couldn’t sleep, I wanted to see you, two in the afternoon, showing up at his music studio, hey, what are you doing, stumbling into his days and nights, and, somehow, he let her in every time, every fucking time, thinking that he could get out at any time, thinking that he was the invincible one taking the risks, thinking that he wasn’t going to get attached to that treacherous smirk and those eyes that felt like coming home.

He had thought then, maybe.

But the moment he knew was when he asked her to accompany him to Christmas with his family. He was going to get dressed up, introduce her to his parents, and pretend to be the perfect son. He was going to show that he changed, that his life wasn’t just music, that his mother’s worry of him never having children was only a silly, stupid concern.

She said she would be there.

But she never came.

He got dressed up in a nice shirt. Even slacks. His mom asked him over and over where she was and he tried to play it off, saying she must have run late, saying that there must be traffic, but time went on and on, and he found himself in the bathroom, shaking against the sink, not wanting to look in the mirror because he could see clear droplets hitting the ceramic bowl and he didn’t want to look up.

He didn’t want to see.

He didn’t want to know that he did need her that way.

He didn’t want to know that it wasn’t, maybe, but it was actually, yes, I love you.

Now, he looked outside to the city and saw her smile in the glass, her glimmering eyes reflecting him, and it was all play pretend created by his head.

Maybe that made him the lucky one.

But he didn’t feel like the lucky one.

Sometimes, when he thought he was over her and was ready to begin again, he would try to chat up another girl. Turn off his phone, get her alone, but every time those girls would say, I know you have a girl at home. He would say that he didn’t, but no one ever believed him.

He would go home alone, sit in the chair by the window, looking out at the city, and they were right.

He had a lonely bed, but she was always there when he came home, in his head.

Back then, he thought she would rush back and apologize. He thought he would get a hurried phone call or a stumble onto his doorstep, frantically telling him, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it, this is the last time, I won’t hurt you anymore, stumbling into his days and nights once more, for years and years, for all of his future.

But it was like she never existed.

She never came to his family gathering and never came to find him again. He tried to tell himself it was for the best, that she didn’t deserve him, that he had dodged a bullet.

He tried.

The worst part was not knowing why.

And thinking that, if he knew why, then maybe he could have prevented it.

But.

Then again.

Maybe he couldn’t have and that was even worse to think about.

He sat, watching the rain fall, tok, tok, tok, wishing it was the sound of knuckles rapping at his door.

Wishing.

Wishing it was.

Yes, I love you.

--

inspired by taylor swift's album red

--

draables masterpost | masterpost

[yourlocalfictionalenthusiast]

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART SEVEN

:Masterlist:

Warnings: none, I think :)

A/N: ahh we’re getting dangerously close to Unsaid Emily territory, folks. Also idk if I’ve said this before but feedback is always welcomed and appreciated! <3

-

“This isn’t gonna work.”

You said as you watched the boys practice their apology song for Julie for the dozenth time. Alex just glared at you in response as he crouched behind Luke, and you tried to contain your laughter as the side gate clicked open and Julie walked into the studio.

Reggie immediately burst into song and Luke followed, then Alex popped out from behind Luke’s back. Once the song was over, Julie stared at them with a blank expression.

“In case you missed it,” Reggie said. “We’re really sorry.”

Julie sighed. “Yeah, I got that part.”

“Look, it wasn’t okay that we flaked on the dance,” Luke explained. “We know we let you down.”

“Yeah, we never wanted to disappoint you.” Alex said. “You’re the best thing that happened to us since we became ghosts.”

“In hopes that you’ll rejoin the band,” Luke pulled the poster out from behind his back. “We booked a new gig.”

Julie didn’t say anything as she ran her fingers across the paper. You could tell that she was still upset by the way she kept her eyes trained on it. 

Reggie cleared his throat. “It’s a mind-blowing, life-changing gig.”

“There’s going to be all kinds of managers there. All we gotta do is blow their minds and we’ll be living the dream.”

“So this is important to you, huh?” Julie said, finally looking up at them. “Like the dance was important to me?”

Alex stepped forward. “We know we messed up.”

“But we need you in the band.” Luke finished and Julie rolled her eyes.

“Of course you do. Because without me, no one would be able to see you play.” Julie said, turning to Luke. “I thought the music we were making was special, but you’re too obsessed with your past to even care.”

“I do care!” Luke insisted. “We have a chance at greatness. I don’t want it to slip away from us again.”

“So then why did you bail on me and (Y/n) to get back at Trevor?” Julie crossed her arms as Luke stared at her with sad eyes. “I’ll tell you why. Because the only thing you care about is yourself.”

Luke glued his eyes to his shoes and Julie whirled around and marched back towards the house with the flyer still clutched in her fist. 

“Luke-” You stepped towards him but he phased away, leaving the studio clouded in sadness. 

“Where do you think he’s going?” Reggie asked.

“Where do you think?” Alex sighed. “Remember what today is?”

Even though Luke had never really cared about birthdays, you knew that his eighteenth was one he had been looking forward to all his life. Your heart broke for him when you realized that this was the way he would have to spend it.

You tugged his old jacket over your shoulders and looked towards the house. “We need to tell her.”

“About his mom?” Alex asked and you nodded.

“He can’t spend his birthday like this.”

Alex and Reggie both looked a little hesitant but nodded, following your lead as you poofed into the Molina’s living room.

Julie was on the couch, pouring over a textbook. She didn’t even look up when you all phased in front of her.

“Hey.” Alex approached her carefully. “Got a second?”

Julie kept her focus on the book and you sat next to her, using your best pleading look. “Julie, please.”

She finally looked up at you. “(Y/n), I already told you, I can’t be in the band.”

“I know.” You said. “But just, listen to us for a second, okay?”

Julie closed her book and set it on the table before looking at you all expectantly. 

“Luke isn’t as selfish as you think.” Alex said and Reggie nodded in agreement.

“You remember that song in his journal? About Emily?” You asked and Julie’s eyebrows furrowed. “We wanna show you who it’s about.”

 -

The Patterson house was almost exactly like you remembered it.

Dozens of memories swirled around in your mind as you walked up the pathway to the patio and crouched behind a chair. You could see Emily and Mitch in the window, Emily blinking tears out of her eyes as she frosted a triple chocolate fudge cake, Luke’s favorite. 

And as if that wasn’t enough to break your heart, Luke sat on the counter with his head propped up against his knees.

“Emily is his mom?” Julie asked, her voice light.

“Yeah, he comes here a lot.” Alex said. “He thinks we don’t know, but we’ve been following him.”

You close your eyes as a pit of guilt opens in your stomach. You had been so wrapped up in your stupid feelings that you didn’t notice how much Luke was hurting.

“All he does is sit and watch them.” Reggie explained. “They don’t do much though.”

“They’re eating cake. That’s something.” Julie said.

“It’s a birthday cake.” You managed, avoiding everyone’s eyes as their heads snapped towards you. “For him.”

“And it’s even harder for him ‘cause he left on bad terms.” Alex said. “His parents didn’t want their seventeen year old in a rock band. So he ran away.”

You watched as Mitch lit a candle in the center of the cake and gripped Emily’s hand across the table. Luke leaned forward and blew it out immediately, making them share a look of confusion.

“That’s why Luke was so mad.” Reggie twisted his fingers. “If Trevor gave him credit for the songs, then they would’ve known that it was all worth it.”

“That his dreams were worth chasing.” You finished, another wave of guilt washed over you. You hadn’t been thinking about Luke’s parents when you fought with him about the old songs, and now you wished you could take everything back and haunt the hell out of Bobby.

Emily and Mitch blew out the candle again and Luke sank back into his chair, staring at his parents as tears streamed down his face. Julie sniffled next to you and more than ever, you wished you could hug your friend.

Alex stood up. “We all know how much it hurts when someone who should’ve had your back completely lets you down. We never meant to make you feel like that.”

“We love our band, and Luke does too.” Reggie said. “Please give us another chance.”

Julie took one last look into the window before she nodded. “Okay.”

You all shared sad smiles and you cleared your throat. “Well, then I think we have a gig to rehearse for.”

 -

As you walked back into the studio, you couldn’t stop thinking about your fight with Luke.

How it must’ve felt for him to feel like you weren’t on his side when he was just trying to make his parents proud. You had been so caught up in your feelings of him ignoring you and being late to the dance that you didn’t stop to think about how he was feeling.

“Actually, guys,” You walked over to the couch and shrugged Luke’s old jacket on your shoulders. “Start without me. There’s something I have to do.”

“Oh?” Alex teased. “I wonder what?”

“And if it has anything to do with our birthday boy.” Reggie finished, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Do you guys want to die again?” You said and they both raised their hands in surrender. “I’ll be back soon.”

They just smirked at you knowingly as you felt yourself poof away into your old bedroom.

It was exactly the way you had left it.

Old pictures and countless band posters plastered all over your walls, a messy bed, and clothes everywhere. It was like time had been frozen in here, and as you looked around, it almost felt like you were alive again. 

Like at any minute, your mom would walk in and kiss your cheek. Or there would be a soft knock at your window and it would be Luke sneaking over for movie night.

But then reality came crashing back in when you looked over to your dresser and you spotted the thing you had come for. 

It was a small, dirty shoebox covered in faded stickers. You were thankful that your mom must’ve recognized it as something important and didn’t throw it away. No doubt she remembered helping you dig it up in 1995, just days before the Orpheum show.

You looked down and smiled at the words carved on the surface of the lid in Luke’s handwriting, 

Luke and (Y/n)’s Time Capsule!

Open on 18th birthday :)

You snorted, realizing his writing was exactly the same as when he was six. You wiped the surface of the box off with your sleeve and tucked it under your arm. Technically, you weren’t meant to open this until you were eighteen, but also, you were technically dead, so you figured your six year old self would forgive you.

With one last look at your old bedroom, you poofed away from your house and into the studio’s loft where you quickly tucked the shoebox behind an old guitar case before making your way down the ladder.

Julie’s voice floated through the air and you joined in, taking your spot next to her on the piano bench. She gave you a teasing look and you jokingly glared at her as the song ended and Luke suddenly phased into the chair across from you.

“Julie?” He asked, stunned. “What made you come back?”

“I realized that music is important to all of us.” Julie shrugged. “We’ve already lost so much, we can’t lose this too.”

Luke nodded, a trace of a smile on his face. “Thanks.”

“Oh, and happy birthday, by the way.” She said and Luke smiled as he grabbed his guitar. “Let’s go from the pre-chorus.”

Alex started the countdown.”1...2...3...4!”

You looked over at Luke, expecting him to be looking down at his guitar as he played but his eyes met yours. He winked as he came closer to sing with you, making you laugh. As he stopped in front of the piano, you realized that while it sucked, being a little distant from Luke had it’s advantages. 

At least then, you didn’t have to pretend that every little thing he did made your heart skip a beat.

 -

“Knock, knock.” You called out from behind Julie’s bedroom door, pulling Reggie’s arm back from inside the room.

“Come in.” She said and you all walked through the door. 

“What are you still doing up here?” Luke asked when he saw her snuggled up in her bed. “We go on in like twenty minutes.”

Julie sighed. “I lied to my dad so I’m stuck in here all night.”

“But we were just at the venue.” Alex said. “It was packed with people and managers. It’s kinda crazy.”

“My aunt is right downstairs.” Julie crossed her arms. “There’s no way I can get past her.”

Luke scoffed as he walked over to the window and pulled it open. “Well, it’s a good thing that you’re not taking the stairs.”

Julie’s jaw dropped, looking at you all with wide eyes. “I can’t sneak out!”

You sat down on the bed across from her. “C’mon, Molina. Live a little.”

Her eyes went back and forth between you and the boys hesitantly but she eventually gave in with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

-

By the time you all got to the venue, it was even more packed than before.

Every table was full and you could tell by their clothes that they were definitely in the music business. Your attention was pulled to the stage when upbeat music started playing as Carrie started to sing.

You turned to talk to Julie but then there was a bright flash on stage and Alex landed in the middle of the dancers. Julie looked around confused, but you just laughed as he followed Carrie around the stage and copied her moves.

You laughed and cheered for him. “Woo! Go, Alex!”

As the song ended, he posed and bowed before poofing back to your group with a pink tint on his cheeks. “I was just doing that for you guys.”

Reggie snickered. “Uh-huh. You can stop smiling now.”

Julie watched Carrie leave the stage with a conflicted look on her face. “I’m not gonna lie, that was pretty good.”

Flynn nodded. “Yeah, I kinda forgot why I hate her so much.”

As if on cue, Carrie came strutting off stage and laughed as she looked Flynn and Julie over. “Hey, girls. Isn’t past your bedtime?”

“Now I remember.” Flynn said with a stiff smile.

Carrie looked over at Julie. “If you’re looking for Nick, he didn’t come.”

More than ever, you wished someone could see you purely so you could give her the finger. Being a jerk for no reason was bad enough, but taunting Julie about Nick was unfair.

“Actually, that’s not why I’m here.” Julie said as she took a step closer.

On the stage, the accouncer spoke into the mic. “Alright, looks like we have one more act tonight. ‘Julie and The Fat Ones’.”

Carrie and her group laughed and you turned to Luke, dropping your voice to a whisper. 

“Okay, I know it’s not the right time. But I totally told you that would happen.” You teased, thinking back to that morning when you filled out the sheet and Luke insisted that his handwriting would be legible enough.

Luke scrunched his nose at you. “Shut up.”

You snorted as Julie walked up to the stage and sat in her spot behind the piano. She put her mic in the holder and took a deep breath. “It’s actually ‘Julie and The Phantoms’.”

When the crowd quieted down, Julie started to play the opening. The gentle piano bored some people and you watched as they turned back to their conversations. But then Julie started to sing and caught everyone’s attention.

“Hearts on fire,

We’re no liars,

So we say what we want to say.

I’m awakened,

No more fakin’

So we push all our fears away,”

You felt yourself getting more excited as it came closer to your cue. You hadn’t played for this many people since you died, and even though you were a little nervous, you were filled with a need to perform again.

“Don’t know if I’ll make it cause I’m falling down under,

Close my eyes and feel my chest beating like thunder,

I wanna fly, come alive,

Watch me shine!”

You all appeared on the stage and if people weren’t paying attention before, they definitely were now. You heard shocked gasps over the music and smiled, grabbing your mic and joining in on the chorus.

“I got a spark in me,

Hands up if you can see,

And you’re a part of me,

Hands up if you’re with me,

Now till eternity,

Hands up if you believe,

Been so long and now

We’re finally free.”

You watched as Luke walked over to Alex’s drum set, playing along with Reggie as you and Julie made it to the front of the stage.

“We’re all bright now,

What a sight now,

Coming out like we’re fireworks,

Marching on proud,

Turn it up loud,

‘Cause now we know what we’re worth,”

Luke settled back behind his spot and smirked, his hair falling in his eyes as he shook his head to the beat. You kept your eyes on him as he played, and Luke winked at you in response. Even though you hadn’t done it in forever, your on-stage flirting game was like muscle memory.

Before you knew it, the bridge came and Luke abandoned his microphone to share yours. You took it off the stand and leaned towards him. Behind you, Julie dropped out and your and Luke’s voices filled the venue.

“I got a spark in me,” You sang and Luke echoed your words.

“And you’re a part of me,

A part of me,

Now till eternity,

Now till eternity,

Been so long and now we’re finally free!”

Just like every other time you sang with Luke, the air disappeared from your lungs and someone hit the pause button on the world. Luke’s eyes never left yours and your skin tingled under his intense stare. You lightly shoved his chest and winked back at him as he went back to his microphone.

The bright lights flashed as Julie’s high note rang out and the song ended. The crowd instantly erupted in cheers and almost everyone gave a standing ovation as you bowed and phased away, making another wave of gasps and cheers run through the crowd.

You landed next to the coffee bar on the far side of the room and instantly saw Teddy, who was leaning on the edge of the counter with a smirk on his face.

“What, you’re stalking me now?” You joked.

“It was a complete coincidence, Gorgeous.” Teddy came closer and nudged your shoulder. “But a great one. Why didn’t you tell me that you could sing like that?”

“Like you’d believe me If I did.” You said as you laughed, still a little breathless from the performance. You could feel your friend's eyes on your back and you turned around. Alex and Reggie were standing there awkwardly while Luke crossed his arms.

“Ah, the famous bandmates.” Teddy smirked. “You guys were great.”

“Thanks.” Luke smiled stiffly at him before turning to you and gesturing over where Julie was talking to her dad. “Sorry to interrupt, but (Y/n), we should really go check on Julie.”

You tried to ignore the way that he was already wanting to get back to Julie made your heart sink into your shoes but you nodded and turned back to Teddy with an apologetic smile. “Bye, Teddy.”

You turned to leave but Teddy’s hand came up to grip your wrist. “Hey, uh, come to the diner tomorrow. There’s something I want to tell you.”

“Something bad?” You asked and Teddy sighed. 

“I’ll tell you tomorrow. I promise.”

“Okay.” Despite the pit of worry in your stomach, for some reason, you trusted Teddy. “See you then.”

-

After you watched as Julie got steered out the doors by her dad, you phased into her room and waited for them to get back.

You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Sure, it was all of your idea to sneak her out, but you definitely encouraged her and now she was in trouble. As you waited, you looked around her room, admiring all the pictures and colors.

There were little paper butterflies hanging from the ceiling and you went to touch one, but then the door swung open and Julie came in.

She yelped but relaxed as soon as she realized it was you.

“I’m sorry.” You said. “I didn’t mean to scare you, or get you in trouble tonight.”

Julie shook her head. “Hey, it was my choice to sneak out. Besides, I’m not in trouble. I mean, I have to focus more on school and stuff but I’m staying in the band.”

“Thank god. I definitely couldn’t go back to a band of all boys.” You joked and Julie laughed before wiggling her eyebrows.

“Speaking of boys, don’t you have one to go give a birthday present to?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay first.” You said.

“Thank you, (Y/n). But I’m good.” Julie smiled warmly. “Now go get your boy.”

“He’s not my boy.” You protested but Julie just rolled her eyes and threw a pillow through your torso. “Hey!”

Julie laughed as she picked up another pillow. “Get out of here or else I’ll do it again.”

“Okay, okay!” You giggled as you poofed away.

You landed in the middle of the studio and frowned when you realized that it was empty. You assumed that Alex was probably out looking for Willie and Reggie was probably with Ray or Carlos, but Luke was usually hanging around the studio this late.

“Hey.” A voice called out from behind you and you whipped around to find Luke leaning against the railing of the loft.

“Hi.” You cleared your throat. “You okay?”

Luke nodded and gestured to the empty air next to him, and with a flash, you poofed to his side. You could tell that he was still thinking about his parents from the way that his eyes lingered on the studio doors and the guilt you felt earlier returned in full-force. You wanted to say something, do something to make him smile.

“I got you something.” You said, trying to put on a bright smile as you crossed the loft and pulled the box from its hiding spot. “You probably don’t even remember this thing, but we did say we were gonna open it when we turned eighteen.”

Luke knitted his eyebrows in confusion but a look of realization flashed across his face when you handed it to him. Just like you were hoping for, he instantly brightened as he read the carvings on the top of the lid.

“Oh my god...” He said. “I can’t believe you dug this up.”

For some reason, you didn’t want to tell him that you really dug it up twenty five years ago back when you stopped being friends. It seemed almost too sentimental, and after finally getting Luke back, you didn’t want to scare him away again.

“All it took was an hour, and technically some property damage if you count my mom’s rose bushes.”

It wasn’t technically a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

Luke threw his head back as he laughed. “Oof, be thankful that you’re already dead or else she would’ve killed you.”

You snorted as you gestured from him to open the box. He carefully pulled the lid off and slid a little closer to you so you could both see inside. There were some random drawings and toys, but what caught your eye was a box of crayons in the corner.

“Wait,” You gasped as you picked them up. “Are these the crayons?”

“The ones that you stole from me on the first day of second grade?” Luke said, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from laughing. “Yeah.”

“Excuse you, they were mine to begin with.” You reminded him with a raised eyebrow.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Luke smirked.

You cleared your throat as you stepped away from the railing and faced Luke. 

“Hey, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for not listening to you about Bobby. I just got so caught in up in memories of how we all used to be and stuff that-”

“(Y/n), hey,” Luke chuckled lightly as he reached over and grabbed your hand, the gesture immediately stopping your ranting. “Don’t be sorry. You were right. I mean, I’ll always be bummed that our old music is gone, but a friend helped me realize that we should focus on the future.”

He gently squeezed your hand and you laughed. “This friend of yours sounds pretty smart.”

Luke hummed. “The smartest.”

You could feel his calloused fingers on the back of your hand and it felt so familiar and warm. For once, the silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward.

“Thank you, (Y/n).” Luke said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You took a deep breath before responding with a soft smile. “Happy birthday, Lu.”

 -

September 1994

“Sweetie, your shift is over.” 

Cece said with a raised eyebrow as she watched you pour creamer and sugar packets into cups of coffee. 

“I know and I know that I shouldn’t be behind the counter when I’m not working.” You smiled up at her before placing the coffee pot into its holder, practically shaking with excitement. “But I have band news and the boys will be here any second.”

You put lids on the drinks and set them on the counter just as the bell on the door chimed and Alex and Luke strolled in, followed by Bobby and Reggie.

“Okay, what was so important that you had to wake me up and drag me down here?” Alex complained as soon as he saw you.

“It’s barely ten, Al. When did you turn eighty?” You teased as you handed him a paper cup of cocoa. Alex just grumbled at you under his breath as they all sat down in front of you. “I’m sorry for interrupting your beauty sleep, but this couldn’t wait.”

“We’re listening.” Reggie said as he grabbed his coffee.

“Okay, so you remember that guy who saw us play at the beach a little while ago?” You asked and they all nodded. “Well, I called him and it turns out that he owns a club downtown.”

“Wait.” Luke perked up and Bobby leaned forward in his chair. “A club club?”

You nodded. “And he wants us to play there every weekend next month.”

Alex choked on his cocoa. “The whole month?!”

You nodded again and there was a minute of stunned silence as they all exchanged looks. You smirked as you took a sip of your coffee. 

“Oh, and also, he knows the owner of the Orpheum. Apparently they used to go to college together or something. And he said that if we impress him next month, that he could maybe pull a few strings.”

There was another moment of silence before Bobby turned to you with a serious look on his face. “(Y/n), I could kiss you right now.”

“Gross.” You scrunched your nose and the rest of the boys laughed.

Luke, who had been bouncing in his seat a minute ago, suddenly looked serious as he jumped up and grabbed Bobby’s shoulder. “C’mon, Casanova. I’m starving.”

Bobby rolled his eyes but followed Luke over to the counter and started scanning the menu. Reggie whistled quietly, making you frown in confusion.

“What?” You asked.

“I think Lukey boy is a little jealous.” Reggie said and Alex hummed in agreement.

“What?” You asked. “He’s definitely not. But even if he was, it’s just Bobby. There’s nothing to be jealous about.”

“That doesn’t matter when you’re in love.” Reggie sang and you cleared your throat.

“I’m gonna give you three seconds, Reginald.” You warned and Reggie scoffed, but then got wide-eyed when you started counting.

“Uh-oh.” Alex snickered and Reggie scrambled to get up from his chair and run across the diner just as you got to three. You caught up with him in seconds and jumped on his back, making him sigh in defeat.

But before you could brag about winning, Reggie suddenly bolted towards Luke and Bobby with you still on his back. The action caused a surprised laugh to bubble out of you making Bobby look at the two of you in confusion.

“What did Reggie do now?” He asked.

“All I said was that (Y/n)’s in lo-” Reggie started but you quickly slapped your hand over his mouth.

“Nothing!” You said quickly.

Once everyone got their food, you all sat down and started scribbling ideas for the setlists. You could hardly focus with all the excitement coursing through your veins. Ever since the day you formed Sunset Curve, you dreamed of playing at the Orpheum with your best friends and you were finally almost there.

You looked across the table and smiled at Luke, knowing that he was thinking the same exact thing from the way he was beaming back at you. You just had to impress one club owner, and you could live out your dreams.

Together.

-

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[twh-news]

Loki director Kate Herron and star Jonathan Majors on his pivotal character's wild debut

The director/executive producer and surprise finale guest-star discuss He Who Remains' grand entrance, the actor's clown training, and which moments were improvised.

Warning: The following contains spoilers from the season 1 finale of Disney+'s Loki.

Like the Sacred Timeline, Loki's end point was determined from the beginning: The multiverse would be born after Loki (Tom Hiddleston) and Sylvie (Sophia Di Martino) reached the Citadel at the End of Time and met He Who Remains, the mysterious and potentially villainous figure who created the Time Variance Authority and lorded over the Sacred Timeline.

"It was always our North star," Loki executive producer and director Kate Herron told EW Friday morning, two days after the chaos-creating finale arrived on the streamer. "What happened [between] when they met him and when the multiverse was born was still on the table, that's something obviously me, the writers, Michael [Waldron, the head writer], and the studio discussed and worked on.... I think honestly, for me and the writing team, we were just like, 'Okay, we'll just keep assuming we're going to get to introduce him until we're not allowed to.'"

Thankfully, no one told them no. Thus, Loki's first season ended with the introduction of Lovecraft Country's Jonathan Majors as He Who Remains — a variant of Kang the Conqueror, the supervillain Majors will play in 2023's Ant-Man & The Wasp: Quantumania.

"We got to do it and what an honor it was to bring him into the MCU. It was a big secret to sit on," said Herron.

"It was one of those moments in one's life, depending on one's occupation, where you go, 'Ah, this is it. This is it,'" Majors told EW when we spoke to him for an upcoming piece about his Emmy nomination for Lovecraft Country. "'All the s--- you talked about wanting to do, [now] there's a door in front of you. Be brave, walk through the door, and leave it on the field.' That was my mentality."

From Herron's point of view, the trickiest part about pulling off the He Who Remains reveal was casting the right actor, because this is the first time the audience would meet this pivotal character.

"[The character's appeal is] in the writing, in the sense that we want to know who is behind the Citadel and who could be there. I think the exciting thing was he tells this story about his past and who he is. For me beyond that, then, it's, which actor are we going to bring in? Because it's got to be an actor with presence that immediately grabs you, because not every actor can do that, and Jonathan is one of the best actors out there. The fact that we got him to do this, I was just so happy because I was like, 'We're gonna be in really safe hands now.' He just commands attention. That for me was the real key thing for me, just getting the casting right," said Herron. "I was so excited that I got to be part of the conversation about the casting of his character with the studio and Peyton [Reed, Ant & The Wasp: Quantumania's director]. It was a massive honor and very exciting, and he's just an actor that we all loved."

Once Majors was cast as He Who Remains (and Kang), Herron thought of a way to integrate him into Loki before we ever saw his face on-screen: Through the Time Keepers.

"Something that was really fun for me was we hadn't, for example, cast the voice of the Time Keepers yet, because you know Wizard of Oz was an obvious reference of ours. I was like, 'Oh, let's get Jonathan to do it, because he's an amazing character actor,'" she said. "We sent him the art of all the characters and it was really fun [because] he was sending us all of these different voices he could do for each character, which was great."

The other obstacle they faced was Majors' availability, because he was working on Netflix's upcoming western The Harder They Fall in New Mexico when Loki was in production. "That was the hard part: preparing [He Who Remains] while leading The Harder They Fall," said the Da 5 Bloods actor, who arrived on set for Loki's final week of production in Atlanta. "It was wild."

"We finished with Loki, Sylvie, and He Who Remains, and it was kind of beautiful in a way because it is also how our story ends. So we filmed with Jonathan for a week," said Herron, who held read-throughs with Hiddleston, Martino, and Majors via Zoom before they started shooting. "Working on He Who Remains, it was really interesting because I started production filming so much of the Time Theatre with Loki and Mobius [in the premiere], and I love how it almost starts with a conversation and ends with one with He Who Remains."

As He Who Remains, Majors was intimidating, for sure, but he was also charismatic, eccentric, and very funny. The actor loved playing the role because it allowed him to draw on the clown/commedia training he learned at the Yale School of Drama.

"There's more smiling in that one performance than there has been in my other performances combined. It's just what it calls for." he said. "I'm a classically trained clown. That's part of my training. I've been at it for a long time, and to be able to exercise that was a lot of fun."

For her part, Herron wanted to do everything in her power to give Majors the room to play, experiment, and forget about the schedule, and the actor took full advantage of that and improvised. For example, the moment when He Who Remains rattles off what his variants said to each other when they met for the first time — "'I love your shoes.' 'I love your hair.' 'Oh, man, nice nose.' 'Thanks, man.'" — wasn't scripted, nor He Who Remains dramatically standing on the desk at the end of his tale.

"He was never meant to get on the desk," Herron recalled. "That was the fun thing with the improvisation. [The camera team] saw him start to move, and Autumn [Durald, the cinematographer] was like, 'Okay…" and then you saw the cameras start to move; it was almost like a dance with him. But that was not planned. It just blew us away because it was just so cool. That was the fun thing with him: I love the way he brought movement to the character in different ways, because I think that was really important as well. Where are we going to go for that big energy moment? Where are we going to draw people in?" She continued, "I love the bit when he sinks into the chair and he's like, 'I'm old and I'm tired,' and you feel his frailness in a way, you feel his aging, [even though] he's obviously a young man."

"The things that come out that aren't scripted only come out because the script is the way it is, and the world is what it is," said Majors. "A lot of it was through collaboration with Tom, Sophia, Kate, and Kevin Wright, the producer. They really let me run. And that's the best thing you can hope for."

As of right now, Majors couldn't say much about how playing He Who Remains affected his performance as Kang in Quantumania, which is currently in production. "You take it a day at a time. That's all I would say about that," he said. "You take it a day at a time and clean your plate and see what tomorrow brings. See what the next story is, and then take it from there."

Loki will return for a season 2, but when? Only time will tell.

[childrenofthenightt]

only the black rose (chapter 5)

pairing: jimmy page x layla porter (oc)

warnings: talks of parental abandonment, off-scene injury, drug use (legal!), fluff, and me waxing poetic about one of my favourite books. and more fluff.

words: 3.1k

summary: in the blink of an eye, it’s 1975 and layla’s suddenly joining led zeppelin for their north american tour. throughout the chaos, the band take a liking to her, she builds friendships with the boys, and love blossoms. but all good things must come to an end.

author’s note: this one wrote itself. i expected to take longer with it cause of this. this is the start of the Chaos seen in the 1975 North American tour, so hold onto your hats and enjoy! congrats! you’ve unlocked layla’s tragic backstory! unbeta’d as always, and here’s the link to the playlist :)

masterlist

playlist

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

----------

Soon enough, the band make their way home, basking in the golden glow of a couple of excellent shows. It’s only a matter of days until the start of the North American tour, and the excitement is palpable. The boys find themselves at the studio, running through some last-minute tour details, accompanied by a certain brunette firecracker, who sits reading comfortably in the lobby.

Layla, sitting on a luxurious couch just outside of the meeting room, is drowning in a hardcover book, consuming every word at a ravenous pace. The sound of pages flipping periodically is accompanied by the light din of voices detailing the upcoming tour. Lost in the story in front of her, she is surprised when she hears a person clearing their throat, seemingly right in front of her. Looking up, she spots the secretary of Swan Song Records, a woman with glasses and long brown hair ran through with gray, pinned up in a low bun. Light freckles dusted her cheeks. Judging by the crow’s feet at the corners of her hazel eyes, the secretary had to have been older than Layla, perhaps around 50, though her bright smile gave the impression of youth.  

“Sorry to interrupt, Miss… I just couldn’t help but notice the book you were reading. I don’t see many fans of the classics around here, especially ones so young.”

Recovering from the shock of being ripped out of the hypnotising story she was wrapped up in, Layla gestures to the seat next to her. With a bright smile, the secretary smoothes down her pencil skirt, and sits down.

“My mother was a literature buff, and it seems she’s passed that down to me! My name’s Layla. You’re Evelyn, right?”

“Y-Yes, I am! How do you…”

“Well, I had to put a name to the lovely secretary that gives me a smile whenever I see her. Makes my day, if I’m being honest.”

“You’re too sweet, darling,” Evelyn says, lips turning up warmly, eyes dancing with joy. “If I may, what are your thoughts on the book? It’s a personal favourite of mine, and it’s always nice to hear new opinions.”

“Well,” Layla starts, lighting up as she speaks. “Wilde’s language paints such a beautiful, vivid picture, and the characters are so interesting, even if they aren’t morally likeable, most of the time. They make mistakes… Many mistakes… but we sympathize with them.”

At this, Layla cups her hand around her mouth, whispering to Evelyn mischievously, as if what she was about to say was the world’s most important secret.

“It’s a favourite of mine too.”

The two women laugh, Evelyn’s hand falling across Layla’s arm, a comforting, grounding weight. Evelyn, with a warm smile gracing her face, crow’s feet as prominent as ever, sends a pang of longing into Layla’s heart. Not for love, but for her old life. Her friends worried out of their minds over her disappearance; her mother, left alone not once, but twice. Her father had left when she was a child, and it had been her and her mother ever since. Layla learned to put up walls, so that she’d never be hurt like that again. They all leave in the end. It’s better that way. Better not to get attached. Better not to get hurt.

“That’s a lovely interpretation, Layla. You know,” Evelyn says, interrupting Layla’s train of thought. “For someone so young, you have an old soul. Wise beyond your years, for sure.”

“You have no idea…”

“Well, I must get to work, darling,” Evelyn claps her hands together, and stands up, resting a hand on Layla’s arm once more. “I’d love to chat again, though. Such refreshing opinions from such a young woman. I’ll let you get back to your book.”

“I would love to! We’ll make plans soon, I promise. Have a wonderful day, Evelyn!” With that, Layla opens the novel, and is taken once again by the current of the story. Minutes pass, until Layla is interrupted once more, this time by a soft press of lips against the crown of her head.

“Everything alright, Layla?”

“Of course, Jim,” Layla says, reaching out to grasp Jimmy’s hand in return. “How did the meeting go?”

“Well, you were right outside the door, I’m surprised you didn’t eavesdrop,” He takes a seat beside her, and reaches down to tap at the book still nestled in Layla’s hand, her finger keeping the page. “You were too engrossed in this, I bet. What are you reading anyways?”

Layla lifts the book to show the cover, which is a slightly worn navy blue, with golden accents in the form of small droplets. In metallic lettering, read ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’.

“Oscar Wilde, hey? Wouldn’t have pegged you for a lover of the classics.”

“I spent my teenage years with Austen and Dickens, after all.”

“I didn’t think you were that old.”

Layla rolls her eyes, a fond look upon her features. Smiling at the man in front of her, she puts a hand to his cheek.

“Yeah, I’m a real cradle-robber.”

“Just make sure my mum doesn’t hear about this relationship: she’ll have a fit.”

“I’ll be careful, angel,” Layla laughs, putting a pensive finger to her chin. “Hey, Jimmy? Do you have a good relationship with your parents?” Jimmy smiles wide at the question and nods, dark curls bobbing at the movement. He absentmindedly takes Layla’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb in soft circles across her wrist.

“My parents… They’ve always been very supportive of me in every way, and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to find a way to thank them,” Jimmy squeezes her hand briefly, meeting her eyes. “You know, I bet they’d love you.”

“Do you really think so?” Layla’s cheeks grow warm, and her lips tilt upwards in a smile that is uncharacteristically shy.

“Of course I do, petal,” Jimmy says, pushing a fallen lock of hair behind Layla’s ear, his touch featherlight. “How about you? What are your parents like?”

“Well… My dad… He left us when I was young, so it’s been me and my mom ever since,” This is marked with a moment of silence, and Layla’s eyes meet her shoes, pointedly not looking at Jimmy. “My mom’s probably the strongest person I’ve ever met, and I truly can’t thank her enough for everything she’s done for me. She’s my best friend.”

The silence continues, until Layla feels a calloused finger at her jaw, lifting her chin. Finally flicking her eyes up to gaze at the guitarist, she’s shocked by the concern and sadness she sees in those emerald green eyes.

“Petal, I…”

“Jim, it’s fine. It—”

“It’s not fine, Layla. It’s not. I’m so sorry, you didn’t deserve that. Either of you.” Jimmy pulls her into a tight hug, long arms wrapping around her, making her feel safe. They stay like this for what feels like hours, breaking apart slowly.

“Jimmy, I… Thank you.”

“Of course. Now, how about you read me some of that book of yours?”

Layla laughs brightly, albeit a little watery, and smiles at Jimmy, eyes shining with gratitude. Shuffling, she positions herself in his lap, legs hanging off the end of the couch as his arm comes to rest across her back, holding her steady against his chest. She opens the book, dog-earing the corner of the page she was reading, before flipping back to the start.

“Petal, as much as I like this, I thought we were gonna take it slow? I don’t think public places are the best idea to… Well…”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jimmy,” Layla says, smirk gracing her face as she speaks. “You just make a very comfortable chair.”

Jimmy’s laugh is music to her ears, and she presses a light kiss to his cheek. Focusing on the book in her hand, she begins to read:

“The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn.”

----------

‘Was it all true? Had the portrait really changed? Or had it been simply his own imagination that had made him see a look of evil where there had been a look of joy?’

The next day had arrived, and Layla sits at her kitchen table, enraptured once again by the writings of Oscar Wilde. The words on the page enchant her, and she has no desire to put the novel down anytime soon. She’d have to tell Evelyn all about it, the next time she sees her.

‘Surely a painted canvas could not alter? The thing was absurd. It would serve as a tale to tell Basil some day. It would make him smile. And, yet, how vivid was his recollection—’

A shrill ringing pulls her out of the carefully crafted narrative of Dorian Gray. Layla huffs, annoyed at the intrusion, and moves to pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Layla! Hi, good to hear from you, hope you’re having a great day so far! Lovely weather we’re having, hey?” The slightly nasal voice of one Robert Plant, crackles through the phone, and Layla sighs at his exuberance.

“Robert, hey. What is it?”

“Uh… Please don’t freak out. It’s really not that bad, and everyone is… mostly… fine?”

“Rob—”

This is followed by a noise in the background, a sort of crackle, as if Robert had shifted the phone to his other hand. Layla can hear the way his breath picks up, the way panic seeps into his voice. “Just a heads up that we’ll be at your place in about… 10 minutes! See you then!”

“What is going on? I was reading, I’m really not in the mood for—”

Another crackle, and a sigh from Robert’s end of the line. Layla runs a hand through her hair, biting her lip in an attempt to quell the panic rising in her throat.

“Promise me you won’t freak out, little dove.”

Layla exhales sharply through her nose, unimpressed at the plea of the man on the other line. Coiling the telephone cord around her finger to calm her nerves, she responds.

“Fine, I’m not gonna freak out. Now, tell me what happened.”

“Well… Um… Jimmy, well, he kinda… got his… finger slammed in a train door?”

“...”

“Layla? Are you still there?”

“How?!”

“I told you not to freak out…”

“Robert!” Layla exclaims, concern painted clearly on her flushed face.

“Okay, okay, he told us he was holding the door open for someone on the way to Swan Song, and well… You know the rest.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

Another sigh sounds from the other line, and Layla waits in anticipation for his response, growing anxious with each passing moment. Finally, she hears the man’s response, and deflates with relief, sinking into the chair beside her.

“He should be fine. Like I said before, we’re gonna come get you right away. He’ll be okay, Layla.”

“Okay…Robert?”

“Yes, little dove?

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” Robert chuckles lightly, bringing a smile to Layla’s face, the undercurrent of anxiety still coursing through her. She thinks it will stay that way, until she sees Jimmy, makes sure he’s okay. “We’ll be there in 10 minutes. Sit tight, Layla.”

Layla sits at the kitchen table, biting her thumbnail, mind elsewhere, until she hears the telltale sound of a car pulling up, engine cutting out. Flying out the door, She spots Jonesy in the driver’s seat, Bonzo next to him, with Robert in the back. Opening the door, she sits next to the blond, and he gazes over at her, putting a hand to her shoulder. Sympathy flashes across his face as he takes in the shocked look Layla’s sporting.

“He’ll be okay, Layla. He will.”

“Robert, I… Jonesy, please, just drive?”

“Right.”

The engine rumbles to life, and they’re off, no doubt speeding to whatever hospital Jimmy’s holed up in. Layla lets her thoughts drift to Jimmy. She wonders how he’s doing, if he’s in any pain, if they’re treating him well. She’s distracted enough that she barely feels Robert’s hand, warm and comforting, on her knee. Layla is snapped out of her thoughts by a particularly sharp turn, and she looks up at Robert, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Rob… What if he’s… not okay? It was his finger. That means that he might not be able to play, if it’s bad enough,” She stammers, eyes frantic in their search of the blond’s face. “His guitar is his life, and—”

“Layla, calm down. It’ll be okay. It won’t do us any good to think like that.” Robert leans over, throwing his arm around her shoulder as best he could in the cramped car. To his surprise, she leans into him, resting her head on his shoulder. Layla unconsciously brings a hand up to bite her thumbnail, and catching the action, Robert places his hand on hers, pushing it back down to rest in her lap. They stay that way until the car rolls to a stop in the hospital parking lot. Layla lifts her head from Robert’s shoulder with breakneck speed, scrambling out of the car.

“Layla, wait!” Jonesy calls out, running after the woman, who dashes through the door. Robert and Bonzo catch up, just as Layla reaches the front desk, panting from exertion. The nurse on shift looks at her, eyes wide, shocked at the display.

“Excuse me, love,” Bonzo says, tucking Layla under his arm as he speaks to the nurse. “We’re looking for James Page? He was brought in for a fractured finger, I believe?”

“...Yes, right. What is your relationship with the patient?”

“We’re his bandmates, we can call our manager if you need proof. Please, we just need to see if he’s okay.”

The nurse eyes the group dubiously, and grabs the chart sitting next to her, looking through it. Glancing at the group again, she points behind them, to a room packed with seats, posters and pamphlets lining the walls.

“It seems that Mr. Page is still with the doctor getting X-rayed, so I’m going to need you to take a seat in the waiting area. Give that manager of yours a call, and we’ll see what we can do for you.”

“Thank you, love.” Bonzo says, as he herds the group over to the soft, patterned armchairs, plopping down with a sigh. Jonesy excuses himself to make a phone call to Peter, the others left waiting for news that won’t come fast enough.

Jimmy has to be okay. He has to.

----------

“For James Page?” The nurse’s voice rings out across the waiting area, and the group shoot up from their seats, stiff backs groaning in protest. “Follow me.”

The nurse leads them through a labyrinth of hallways, stopping finally at a room with a large 164 pasted on the closed door. Through the window looking into the room, Layla spots Jimmy asleep under the covers, his hands atop the sheets, resting on his stomach. He looks peaceful, she thinks, like he’s devoid of pain. If she couldn’t see the injured hand at all, she’d have thought he was perfectly fine.

The group finally walk into the room, the sharp smell of antiseptic burning their nostrils. Hearing the click of the door opening, Jimmy opens his eyes, pupils blown wide. His irises are almost black, and he sends them a dopey smile, a giggle bursting out.

“Hey, guys. Fancy seeing you all here.” Jimmy slurs, laughing harder now, as though he had told the most hilarious joke in the world. The boys join in, amused by the antics of their guitarist. Layla hangs back, staring at Jimmy, concern clear on her face. She had spotted the injured finger on the way in, which was already bruised a deep purple, the fingernail completely blackened.

“They give you the good stuff, Pagey?”

“You know it, Jonesy.” Jimmy shoots the bassist a sloppy wink, and the group erupts into soft laughter once more. Taking a dazed glance around the room, the raven-haired man pouts, completely endearing in his drugged state. “Hey… where’s Layla?”

Peter, who had been standing next to the bed, moves aside, and glassy green met warm brown. The guitarist smiles softly, relaxing back into the pillows. He sticks out his uninjured hand, and she walks closer to take it. Never lessening her grip, Layla threads the fingers of her free hand through Jimmy’s messy curls, and looks down at him fondly.

“How’re you doing, champ?”

“Good, now that you’re here. I would kiss you right now… if I wasn’t seeing two of you.”

“They must have him on the really good stuff…” Layla throws over her shoulder, looking back at the injured guitarist. He’s looking up at her with unabashed affection, and she can’t help but blush at the adoration in his gaze.

“Sorry to interrupt,” comes from the open doorway, as Jimmy’s doctor steps through. “I’m Dr. Vane, I treated James when he came in. If you’d kindly step out for a moment, I’d like to go over his prognosis.”

The boys file out of the room, and Layla goes to follow, stopped in her tracks by Jimmy tugging her back towards him with a whimper. She gives in, sinking back down in the chair at his bedside.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Jimmy. I was so scared when Robert called. I thought...”

“I’m glad you’re here, petal. Now, come into bed with me. I want to see you better.” Jimmy mutters, scooting over to make room for her to fit in the small hospital bed. Layla laughs, nodding, and crawls in beside him, careful not to hurt him. She turns on her side, her hand landing in his hair again. Jimmy looks up at her, pupils still dilated, and presses a quick peck on her lips, giggling anew.

“You’re so beautiful. Have I ever told you that you’re beautiful? ‘Cause you are.” He insists, slurred speech returning in full force, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Go to sleep, Jimmy. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He hums softy in response and a few seconds later, Jimmy’s breathing evens out. He’s dead to the world. Through the door left ajar, Layla can hear snippets of the conversation with the doctor.

“... Fractured the tip of his finger… At least a month.”

“Will he be able to play anytime soon?” That was Peter, voice soft with worry for the frail man in the hospital bed.

“He should rest… Not good to put too much strain on it… Keeping him here until the anaesthetic wears off.”

Tuning them out, Layla looks down at the man sleeping beside her. His hair is matted on one side of his head, and he snores louder than he’d ever admit, but he looks peaceful. He’s not in any pain, and that’s enough for Layla. She drifts off, as the sound of footsteps against the floor draw near. Her tired eyes open to slits, and she sees a shadow with dark, shoulder-length and a beard. It must be Bonzo, she thinks. The last thing Layla hears before succumbing to the exhaustion that plagues her, is the drummer’s soothing voice, hushed to a whisper.

“Let them sleep.”

----------

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 (let me know if you want to be added!)

[iamyoursinblog]

Hell girl

Pairing: Mark Tuan x Reader

Genre: fluff, smut

Word Count:  5,4 k

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LIST

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"Mom, why should I do this ?!" he practically yelled into the phone. “Okay, Mom. I understood. I'll call you later." He could hardly contain his anger, not wanting to quarrel with his mother. He hung up and threw the phone on the sofa, kicking it forcefully. From anger it seemed even the air in the hall was not enough.

“This is the first time I've seen you so angry after talking with your parents.” He heard Jaebeom laugh behind him and turned to him.

“Oh, hi, Jaebeom.” He was so confused that he didn't even notice when Jaebeom came in.

"Are you okay?" Jaebeom came closer squeezing his shoulder

“Almost” he sat down on the sofa, throwing his head back

"What happened?" Jaebeom asked anxiously, sitting down next to him.

“There is one, person...” he had to make every effort to restrain himself and choose the most neutral words in the description “she is the daughter of the best friends of my parents. Every time she appeared within a radius of half mile from me, my life turned to hell. She's a devil! And so this ... decided to come to Seoul. And my mother told her friends that I would meet her at the airport and spend her entire vacation with her. For some reason my family decided that I was a personal babysitter for this mad girl !!!” he was just seething with anger.

"Babysitter? She's that so young, how old is she? " Jaebeom laughed while watching him

“She's 5-6 years younger than me,” he shook his head.

“At 5-6? Well, she's not baby anymore, she's around 22. When was the last time you saw her?"

He looked at Jaebeom in disbelief. But really, you was 22. Only now did he realize that the last time he saw you ten years ago. For him you have remained an obnoxious child who spoils his life. He remembered how you beat him, without any physical training, on your first day of martial arts training in his studio, even though he had been in for a year and was older and stronger than you. After that, all his friends laughed at him for several more months. He shook his head, what's the difference how old you were, you hardly changed. “Moreover, if she’s already an adult, then I don’t understand why I should do this at all”

"If it worries you so much, do you want me to go instead of you and meet her, what does she look like?" Jaebeom smiled, clapping his knees

“I have no idea, I only remember her when she was 12. In addition, she will complain to her parents that I personally did not meet her, my mother will kill me after” he moaned, sliding to the floor, quietly and peacefully accepting his inevitable death. He got up off the floor picking up the phone from the couch. “I'll be back soon with this crazy girl, better hide the sharp objects just in case,” he said, heading out the door as Jaebeom bursts into laughter on the sofa.

... ... ...

He was leaning on the railing near the arrival gate. He raised his collar high and lowered the hat almost over his eyes, hoping that no one would recognize him. He looked at the time, your plane has already landed. “How long can she collect her luggage? Did she bring the whole house with her?" He doesn't stop muttering to himself as people keep walking past him. One girl caught his attention, a beauty in skinny jeans and a red jacket over a cropped top. Wow, he seems to fall in love from first sight, he chuckled above himself, unable to take his eyes off her. She walked in his direction, did she really recognize him, he hoped he would be able to persuade this girl not to post a photo in SNS at least until evening. Although he was glad that such a beauty immediately recognized him, despite the fact that dark glasses covered part of the girl's face, her beauty fascinated him and he could not take his eyes off. The girl came up to him and, without saying a word, took a selfie with him, that's stunned him a little, which made him just look at her while she typing something in the phone.

“Sorry, you couldn’t uploading our photo to SNS for at least a few hours later, I’m here not officially, I don’t want a bunch of fans to gather at the entrance.” He asked politely, hoping to negotiate with this girl. “Please, and I'll leave you an autograph and buy you coffee,” he smiled broadly, trying to get her attention. He realized that he secretly hoped that the girl would agree to drink coffee with him, giving him the opportunity to get to know her.

The girl dropped her sunglasses on the tip of her nose and looked down at him before meeting his gaze, "What are you talking about, moron?" the girl answered him in a cold tone, putting on her glasses again and throwing her black leather travel bag at him. The girl picked up the phone, answering the call, heading towards the exit, while he looked in complete shock at the heavy bag in his hands, not understanding what was happening. "Yes mom. Mark met me. Everything okay, so don't worry and stop calling me every five minutes. And I love you" you hung up the phone, turning again in his direction, while he came to himself from the fact that it is YOU! And how that ugly twelve-year-old duckling from his memory turned into this fatal beauty, into which he practically fell in love at first sight?! "Are we going to hang out here until nightfall? Of course I understand the place is cool and all that, but maybe we'll go already?" you said pointing to the exit

“Oh, yes,” he muttered, still unable to come from the shock. He silently trudged towards the car. You got into the car after you greeted his manager, and he continued to stand by the car hugging your bag. The manager walked over to him and took the bag, putting it in the trunk.

"Mark, are you okay?" the manager asked him when he didn't even move

"What? Yes, let's go" he got into the car. You took off your glasses and sat with your eyes closed, why were you so beautiful. He could not think about anything all the way staring at you.

"You're staring!" you said irritably without opening your eyes

He turned sharply forward, turning away from you. What's wrong with you, - he scolded himself mentally. After drove to the agency and taking your bag, he went to the elevator “Let's go. You will have to wait for me. I have a dance practice," he said, clicking on the desired floor.

You entered the practice room where Jaebeom was waiting for the others, who are clearly late. Jaebeom's eyes widened when he saw you. Yep, apparently he had the same reaction, he laugh at himself.

“Hi, you must be ________! I've heard a lot about you, nice to meet you” Jaebeom smiled broadly as he stood up from the couch.

You came closer to Jaebeom shaking his hand and smiling broadly, which made you look even more beautiful. "Hi, me too. Wow, oppa you're so handsome. Can I take a picture with you, I'm a fan of yours” you said sweetly, and his jaw dropped from what he just saw

"Oppa?" he stared at you

“Yes, he's oppa. Isn't that how girls call handsome guys like you?” You didn't take your eyes off Jaebeom, obviously flirting with him while taking a selfie.

Jaebeom laughed, nodding his head, “Well, as you say. I'll leave you, I need to call the others and find out where they are. See you later” Jaebeom smiled at you before heading for the exit.

You waved to him and when Jaebeom left, you called your mom “Hi Mom,” you said when she appeared on the screen. “We just arrived at Mark's dance practice. He's so cute and let me be with them. By the way, he already booked a hotel for me.” You came up to him hugging him “Tell his became so beautiful, it makes to want to take him in arms, no?” you slightly pinched his cheek, smiling broadly

“Hello, good to see you,” he said to your mom, listening to her gratitude for agreeing to take care of you. After you said goodbye, you hung up, shoving the phone back into your pocket.

“I didn't even think that you could be so nice. I thought bitchiness it was your only nature" he said, throwing your bag on the sofa. You turned in his direction returning your cold look, which you gave him before." What hotel? What were you talking about? "

"You didn't think I was going to waste my vacation on you, did you?" You asked raising an eyebrow. “I have my own business here, so let's not interfere with each other. Send me your schedule so that I know where you are if mom suddenly calls. Unfortunately, we will have to have dinner together several times in order to send joint photos to our parents. I will write when I can, when I'll be know my schedule” you continued to say adjusting your makeup while he looked at you in bewilderment “You at least react somehow, otherwise I’m as if talking to a statue” you looked at him in the mirror.

“Great, otherwise I was afraid that I would have to be a babysitter. Tell me your number, I'll send you the schedule. What will you be doing, I need to know in order to answer my parents if they ask" He was not sure he wanted to know for an answer or because he really wanted to know what you would be doing.

"It does not matter. They should think that I am dragging everywhere with you. If I had said that I came here for work, they would not have let me go. "

"Work? Do you know anything other than making life difficult for others?" He chuckled. You took your black stilettos out of your bag and changed your shoes, stuffing your sneakers in your bag. In heels, you looked even sexier. Damn, what is he thinking about?

"Did you come up with a joke yourself or did you find it on the Internet?" you looked at him. "Anyway, let's keep avoiding each other." You said pretendingly smiling “Bye“ you took your bag and went to the exit “Btw...” you stopped near the door, turned and looked at him “Your face is my style” you winked and went out the door, leaving him standing in the middle of the hall with open mouth.

“What a crazy...” he muttered and sat down on the sofa. After receiving the message, he pulled out his phone.

Thank you, sonny. I was afraid that you would send someone else for meet _______. I love you.

He continued to look at your joint photo from the airport, he did not even pay attention to the fact that he was smiling so broadly at that moment. You were smiling too, you seemed so happy and friendly in this photo. He caught himself smiling all this time while looking at your photo. He closed his eyes, leaning on back, as he expected, as soon as you appear next to him, you can say "bye" in his quiet life.

... ... ...

Thanks God, neither his parents nor yours were persistent. Five days passed, and they never called or wrote. As like you ... why all this time he couldn't stop thinking about you. He should have been glad that he didn't need to take care of you, but why then did he not feel it. He was interested in what you were doing, where you were and who you were with. You sent him your schedule, if he could call it that, it was a list of dates marked 'busy' and 'free'. He took out his phone and opened your message, you were free today. For today, his schedule is over and he may invite you to dinner, although it might be too weird. Or not ... you still need to spend time together.

I'm free tonight and not even in a terrible mood, so I can sacrifice my evening and spend it with you.

It seemed to work out naturally, he laughed, rereading his sent message. He got a reply that made him practically growl.

I pass. There are more interesting plans.

An unbearable girl, he muttered, shoving the phone into his pocket.

"Everything okay?" asked Jaebeom, who was sitting next to him.

"Yes, everything is great. By the way, we are already free today and have not hung out together for a long time, besides, tomorrow is a day off. Shall we have a party? " he raised his voice to attract the attention of Jinyoung and Jackson, who were sitting in front.

Everyone made a noise, agreeing to his suggestions, discussing where to go. “How fortunate that we didn't wash off our makeup after the photoshoot. Maybe a club? " Jinyoung smiled broadly and everyone laughed.

"GREAT! A party!" clapped Jackson.

“It’s just worth changing. Unlike our faces, our clothes don't really fit the club.” He said while examining them, and everyone laughed again.

After three hours, they finally drove to the club. Turned out to "change clothe for the club" took longer than he could have imagined. They drove into the indoor club's underground parking lot, which was only allowed by invitation. It was the only place where celebrities could relax and have a good rest without worrying about going out in the morning millions of articles with incriminating photographs. All phones and other gadgets must be lefted at the guard at the entrance. They went inside behind the manager who escorted them to the table. Great, he thought, sitting down at the table. Their table was in a place where they could see everyone, but their no one saw. He looked around the hall sipping his drink while the others discussed everyone around.

“Wow who is this? Haven't seen her before" Jackson said, pointing to the middle of the dance floor. He and Jaebeom turned their heads and he froze wide-eyed when he saw you.

"Is it not a ..?" Jaebeom said with surprise

"Yeah, she is ..." he replied staring at the way you dance. What were you doing here? A thousand questions were spinning in his head.

"Do you know her?" asked Jinyoung, looking at you with interest too.

“Yes, we know” he and Jaebeom simultaneously answered

Some guy came up to you, beginning to dance next to you, obviously trying to meet you. He didn't even notice that his fists were tightening because of it. You smiled at the guy and turned away from him, you were clearly not interested in him. He couldn't deny that he was pleased with it. Unlike this guy who continued to persistently dance next to you and flirt, not wanting to accept your refusal. His jaw tightened and he got up abruptly from the table, heading to the dance floor, when this guy ran down your back and stopped his hand on your ass. He froze when a moment later you turned and twisted the guy's wrist, forcing him to kneel in front of you. He smiled broadly, continuing to walk towards you, apparently martial arts classes were not in vain. He came up to you and grabbed the guy by the collar with force, bringing him back to his feet.

"Are there no more shorter things in your wardrobe?" he asked, giving you a skeptical look.

You tilted your head to the side, looking at him in surprise "Do you really want to discuss the length of my dress now, daddy?!" you asked sarcastically. The way you called him daddy caused a wave of desire in his body. Stop, he was distracted, he kinda angry on you.

I'll be right back and we'll discuss your ‘more interesting plans’!” he said, pointing at you with his finger before dragging the jerk towards the guards. “Throw this garbage out of here, he was touching my friend, although she clearly refused him several times before,” he said when he saw a guard he knew. After the changes, this guy was escorted to the exit, and he returned to the dance floor. “We need to talk,” he said. taking your hand and dragging you towards the back exit, where the quiet zone was.

“Mark, let me go. Where are you dragging me?!" you kept trying to get out all the way. He closed the door behind him so that no one would disturb them when you entered the VIP room.

"What are you doing here and why do you look like this?"

"I look like?" you stared at him

"Like…"

"Like who?" you asked angrily, and you were right, your long-sleeved dress reached almost mid-thigh and was completely covered. But it hugged your beautiful figure, driving him crazy, wanting to run his hands along your curves.

“This dress is too short. What are you doing here? "He said the first thing that crossed his mind.

“You are not my older brother or parents to tell me where to be and how to dress” you shouted at him and you were right. But why was it so angry then that instead of having dinner with him, you chose to go to the club. Why now the only thing he could feel was excitement. "What's wrong with you ?!"

"Everything !!! Everything is wrong with me! Every time you appear in my life everything goes awry! ”

“Excuse me, what? Oh god damn sorry your fucking life is disturbed by my presence, Mr. Perfect Guy! ” you walked up to him poking your finger into his chest with every word.

"Shut up!" he screamed at you, no longer able to control his emotions

"Oh, no really ... let's hear how I destroyed your ..." He grabbed you, pressing you firmly against his body, closing your mouth with a kiss. It seemed that his brain was disabled because he absolutely did not understand what he was doing now. You tried to pull away from him, but he tightened his grip on your hair, deepening that killer kiss. Everything inside him turned upside down, plunging him into an all-destructive fire, not giving the slightest hope of salvation. He enjoyed too much, the sensation of your curves under his fingers, the sweet taste of your kiss, to think about the consequences.

He ran his hands down your back, squeezing your ass and pressing your body against his hard cock. You pushed him hard, causing him to lose his balance falling on the couch behind him. You left the room without even looking in his direction. He fell back on the couch, covering his face with his hands. “Congratulations, moron! You just ruined everything, "he growled, scolding himself. What was that all about. He thought he surprised himself more than you, in the moment he kissed you. How the thought that 'maybe he likes you' turned into a 'destructive passion', from which he could not control himself. But even more frightened him that if you had not pushed him away, he would not have been able to stop himself only with kisses. He pounded his fists hard on the couch before getting to his feet and headed towards exit.

"Have not seen _______?" he asked Jaebeom whom he bumped in the hallway.

“Oh, yes I saw her. She said goodbye, said that she was already leaving because tomorrow is a busy day. Weren't you together? It seems like you left together ... "Jaebeom looked at him in surprise

"Yes together. Well, I told you, she doesn't tell me anything except rudeness "he quickly changed the subject

“I don’t know, with me she’s always cute when we talk.” Jaebeom shrugged.

“That you only saw twice in total less than five minutes, of course she’s cute with you,” he laughed

"Not only when we meet, when we talk on the phone, too sweet"

"By phone?" his eyes widened

"Well yes. We exchanged numbers on the first day while we went down to the parking lot together. She told me to tell her how you are doing, because 'that angry ass, still won't write to her.'

“You seem to know more about her than I do. Maybe then you know what kind of job? " he could not hide that it made him angry

"Yes, she is a model, but her parents are against it, so I had to lie that she was going on vacation."

"I see you are almost the best friends!" he said through clenched teeth, and Jaebeom looked at him questioningly, “I don’t feel myself well, say goodbye to the guys for me. See you" he said as he walked past Jaebeom towards the exit.

He went outside breathing in the cool air. Taking his phone out of his pocket, he dialed your number "Where are you?" he asked when you answered.

"What is it to you?" you snorted into the phone

"Let's talk"

“ 'Let's talk' , or are you going to accuse me of all mortal sins again, and then you’ll kiss me?”

"Where are you?" his tone became calm and soft, least of all now he wanted to quarrel with you

"In a 7eleven a couple of blocks from the club," you answered by hanging up. When he reached the store, a wide smile lit up his face. You sat in a chair and dangled your legs with chopsticks in your mouth, waiting for the ramen to be ready. Now you looked like that the fidget he knew. Going into the store, he bought himself food and a few bottles of beer and after paid for everything, he went to you.

“Models have an interesting diet. Ramen, gimpab, kimchi and beer. Waaaaaa, and this is at one o'clock in the morning ... " he chuckled, putting his food next to yours, sitting down on a nearby chair.

"Who would say," you said took the chopsticks out of your mouth, examining his set. "When I'm angry, I always want spicy ramen," you said smiling broadly, stirring the noodles.

He laughed when you spat the noodles back out because you burned your tongue. "What a ninny" he said laughing. Tearing off your lid from the ramen, he made an envelope and stuck it into your hand. “Even children can eat ramen without burning their tongues. You take some noodles, put them in an envelope, blow on them and then eat them. " he brought chilled noodles to your mouth. “Eat” he said, placing a slice of kimchi on top.

"Yummy" you smiled, chewing on noodles and bouncing in your chair with happy. What a cutie, he thought, watching you.

He opened the beer and put it in front of you, swapping it with your closed “Here, drink”

“I could have opened it by myself,” you furrowed your eyebrows

“Yeah, that's why it's closed. Probably you almost broke all your nails while trying to open the can" he took your hands, turning towards him, examining your manicure.

You turned back and drank a sip of beer returned to the noodles "Did you come to watch on me or eat?" you said pointing to his food.

“Eat more slowly, otherwise your stomach will ache,” he smiled and you laughed

“From trying to fuck me, you went to worrying about my stomach. You never cease to amaze me today "you spoke so calmly about it that everything inside him turned into a tight knot

"I didn't try you ..." he couldn't even finish the sentence

“Okay. As you say" you got up and came to the bin throwing out the trash. "So what did you want to talk about?" You asked when you returned to your place.

“I ... About what happened in the club” he looked at his beer, unable to meet your gaze

“So...” you answered, and he stared at you in bewilderment, “What? It's you wanted to talk,” you raised the can of beer while taking a sip

"Don't you worries about that?" he asked you

“It pissed me off - yes, it worries me - not really. Does it worries you? "

"Yes, it worries me!" he looked at you with wide eyes

"Why?" you looked at him in surprise and leaned forward, getting too close “Mark, I'm not 12 years old. Even if you fucked me, it would have happened not because I could not resist you, but because I did not mind it" you whispered in his ear. “And here is my taxi” you got up from the chair pointing to the black car. “See you” you said and left, leaving him alone.

All he could do, was look at the leaving car. “Great talk,” he muttered, tossing untouched food and beer into the bin.

... ... ...

These few days he was more like a robot that does everything that is told to him. He stared out the window at the lights as his manager drove him home. The head was empty, or vice versa, there were so many thoughts in it that the brain stopped responding to them, simply mute it. Saying goodbye to the manager, he went into the house. You had the weekend ahead, maybe he should call you, he thought as he took the elevator to his floor. In all the case, you have to meet. He was staring at his door when he heard soft music playing from his apartment. Some of the guys came to visit without warning him, he thought, entering the code. His stomach rumbled with the smell of delicious food as he came in. "Whoever you are, I won't kill you just because of the delicious food," he said loudly, walking into the living room. He stopped when he saw you sitting on the couch. "What are you doing here?" he was completely taken aback by your presence, you were the last person he expected to see in his house.

“Is this your favorite question? Why do you keep asking it every time you see me? " you asked getting up from the couch. “I didn't know what you like, so I chose meat and wine” you went into the kitchen and turned off the oven, took out baked meat with vegetables and put it on the table.

"_______, what are you doing here?" he asked again because you ignored his question

"Preventing a zombie apocalypse?" you smiled while handing him a glass of wine

"What?" he frowned at the fact that he could not understand if he heard you correctly, "You just said zombie apocalypse?"

"Yes. Jaebeom said I turned you into a zombie. Since you are patient zero, you can still be saved. Probably. Judging by the symptoms and incoherent speech, you are doomed.” You went up to him, raised his hand and gave him a glass of wine, which he had not taken before.

"Really? Are we talking about zombies now? " he stares at you “I think I’m going crazy,” he muttered, drinking all the wine in one gulp. "Why are you here?" he stepped closer, placing the empty one on the table.

“Make a selfie for parents” you raised your phone and opened the camera. He pushed your hand away, causing your phone to fall to the floor.

“If you needed a photo, you would meet on somewhere alse, and not cook dinner with wine at my place!”

“You’re right,” you said with a malicious smile, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. This angered him even more and he grabbed your hand with force, stopping you.

"Why are you here?" he screamed at you. He did not even understand how a moment later he found himself lying on his back with his hands pressed to the floor.

“Finish what you started” you said, digging into his lips.

His body reacted faster than his brain and he pressed your body against his, deepening the kiss. Rolling over, he was on top of you. He moaned as your legs wrapped around his waist, forcing him to rub his cock against your crotch. Pulling back for a moment, he tore his shirt violently, getting rid of it, not wanting to waste time for unbuttoning. Unbuttoning his jeans, he pulled them down to his hips. He lifted your skirt around your waist, ripping off your panties, pushing inside your pussy. He dug into your lips again, covering your mouth with a kiss as you screamed. He gripped your body tightly as you tried to pull away from him. He pushed hard at you all its length, causing your body to arched under him. He growled as you squeezed his dick hard. His head was spinning with pleasure, blurring the line between reality and ecstasy. He came out of you and pushed into you again with force. Your body relaxed with each deep thrust, making him want more and more pleasure. He pulled your blouse with force, getting rid of it, giving him access to your bare skin. He ran his tongue over your collarbone before biting it with his teeth. You hissed, digging your nails into his bare back. He abruptly left you and got to his feet, dragging you by the hand. He lifted you into his arms, pressing you against the wall again making a hard push into you. You hugged his shoulders tightly as he dug into your lips. This kiss was dizzying, revealing to you everything he felt now. Tenderness changed with passion and vice versa. It was crazy, he lost track of time.

It seemed to him that all eternity had passed, or maybe only five minutes. His moans mingled with yours as everything inside him raged, bringing him closer to orgasm. A wave of heat passed down his back, dropping down as you squeezed his dick hard, cumming hard. He wanted to hear as long as possible how you moan his name dissolving into your orgasm. His thrusts into you hardened, it seemed that something inside him snapped, releasing a wild beast that he was trying to hold back all this time. His fingers and teeth dug into your skin, leaving red marks on it. The more he fucked you, the more he wanted. His orgasm was like the horizon, which receded with each step towards it. Your body trembled violently in his hands with every thrust. He buried himself in your neck, hiding his smile. He growled loudly as he cum, filling you with sperm. The pleasure was almost painful, tearing everything inside him into small pieces. He continued to make shallow thrusts inside you, prolonging his pleasure, until he came to himself with intense pleasure. He put you on your feet, resting his hands on the wall and left a gentle kiss on your lips. He ran his hand over your body and laughed softly as you groaned while closing your eyes.

"Aren't you hungry?" you asked looking at the table with untouched food

“I'm terribly hungry. Let's continue?" he sank down and hugged your legs tightly, throwing you over his shoulder and heading for the bedroom.

"Oh my god ..." you moaned

"Sorry, babygirl, but he can hardly save you tonight" he slapped your ass and you giggled as he walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

... ... ...

“You know that you look like a maniac when you smile like that?” Jackson said as he sat down opposite him. “At first you walk like a zombie for several days, now you giggle almost every second. Tell me honestly, have you lost your mind?"

He laughed at Jackson's words, it must have looked like that from the side. “No, I'm completely fine. I was treated to a delicious dinner.” He smiled broadly recalling that night. Dinner was really delicious, even though you ate it in the morning. He threw his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes, remembering how you yelled at him, saying that now you have to take a bath of bb cream, because your whole body was in red marks from his fingers and teeth. I miss you, he thought to himself. He has not seen you for several days, and why in the last days you have had more work than him. He opened his eyes when sounded a phone notification. He took his phone out of his pocket and laughed as he read the message from you. Oh yes, this is what he wanted to hear now:

I'm not hungry. Let's have dinner?

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LIST

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[hale-13]

En Pointe

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 24 Prompt - Stitches

No matter how much she hates the Red Room, ballet is still Natasha’s go to stress relief. Peter is just curious and eager to learn.

Words: 2311, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Natasha Romanov, Tony Stark

TW: Broken Bones, Blood

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“You do ballet?” Peter asks curiously as he watches Natasha tear the shank out of her new pointe shoes. Her old pair is still in pretty decent shape since she only dances on occasion now but its always been relaxing to sew and break in a new pair and it never hurts to have a few back ups.

“Sometimes,” she answers cryptically as she steps on the toe box with her bare heel to flatten it out, Peter watches her fascinated, venturing further into the room and sitting cross-legged a few feet from her. He’s careful not to touch any of her old shoes or the ribbons and other tools and materials spread out in a semi-circle around where she’s sitting. “Why?”

Peter’s fingers are twitching where he has them pressed into his thigh like he’s holding back from touching. “I did ballet as a kid. Just a few months of classes before my parents died and I was terrible but it was fun.”

Natasha hums as she reinforces the toe of the shoe with glue and fans it a little to dry it out. “You probably wouldn’t be so terrible now,” she tells him as she bends one shoe and then the other, enjoying the cracking noise they make as she works them in. She looks over to Peter to consider him for a moment. “Want to try?”

“With you?” He squeaks and its kinda adorable how nervous he is. Nat suppresses a smirk as she puts on her toe spacers and worn out toe pads – the lambs wool she modified these with is absolutely perfect and she won’t even consider using another pair until these designate around her feet.

“Of course,” she answers, standing up and bending first one shoe and then the other before going up en pointe and squatting to work in both shoes. She’ll need to dance on them for a few hours before they start feeling really good but they aren’t too bad right now. Sometimes new shoes just aren’t right no matter how well she prepares them but she has a good feeling about this pair. “You seem mostly coordinated as Spider-Man at least, I think you can handle a few basic positions.”

“Uh yeah,” Peter says, jumping to his feet like an over eager puppy and making Natasha smile a bit. “Yeah that sounds great!” She can almost see his tail wag.

She gestures to the barre running the length of the studio Tony had put in the compound just for her and has them face each other, correcting Peter’s posture as she goes. His sneakers are ratty and falling apart and she wrinkles her nose at them. She taps them with the hard side of the box of her shoe. “Lose those. I don’t have a pair of men’s shoes lying around so you can just go barefoot for now.” Peter hastens to do as she steps into some resin, crunching the small rocks into powder and rubbing it into the sole, box and sides of her shoes. By the time she’s done, Peter has positioned himself back at the barre, barefoot and with the hems of his pants cuffed up to mid calf.

He looks a little nervous and intimidated so Natasha give him a little smile as she hands the barre with her left hand and adjusts herself into first position as Peter stares intently. “We’re going to do some plié to start I’ll show you the positions; this is first.” Peter’s more graceful than she expected, his legs easily falling into place without shaking or him losing his balance like most new students was. She’s almost impressed.

Peter’s a surprisingly quiet student – she’s seen him in the lab with Tony and in the field where the kid is definitely what she would describe as a chatterbox. He asks a few questions here or there but, for the most part, he just observes and follows her lead. He picks up the positions quickly and Natasha puts on some music and instructs him through her usual warm up. By the end he’s sweating a little but he looks relaxed and a little pleased with herself.

“Can you teach me to spin?” He asks her a little shyly but with an undercurrent of excitement, shifting his weight from foot to foot like an overeager puppy and Nat gives him a soft smile.

“Sure,” she says, ditching her point shoes and slipping into some flats. “So you want to start off…”

He falls over the first few times but he nails a sloppy spin the fourth time. He stumbles a little once he stops, arms akimbo and legs spread for balance with a surprised look on his face. He looks at her for a second with a clear expression of ‘did I just do that?’ before letting out an excited laugh and fist pumping. “Holy shit!” He says under his breath and Natasha laughs with him – his good humor infectious. “That was so fun!”

“Try it again,” she says. “And this time keep your arms tucked in tighter and you head fixed on a point. Like this,” she demonstrates again, focusing on a dent in the wall to keep her head from spinning with her body and to keep her from getting dizzy. Peter tries again and cleans up his form a little.

“I think I’ve got it,” he says after another few turns and then he starts again, spinning once, twice, three times and, on the fourth rotation she sees his ankle twist as if in slow motion. Peter lets out a grunt as he loses his balance and, instead of falling, tries to stick to the floor with his abilities. His momentum continues to pull him though and she hears his leg crack in a sound that echos through the studio over the soft music and makes her hair stands on end.

“Fuck!” Peter exclaims and he drops, hitting the smooth wood floor hard and immediately dropping onto his back, face ghostly. His tibia has broken cleanly in two near his ankle and twisted to break through the skin in a grotesque fashion, leaking blood onto the previously pristine floors. Natasha immediately falls back into her extensive first aid training and drops to the floor next to Peter, tying one of her leftover ribbons around his upper calf in a crude tourniquet.

“Let’s get medical down here FRIDAY,” her voice is calm even though her heart rate is elevated. Peter looks about two seconds from passing out but pushes himself up with prodigious effort only to turn green when he sees his leg, turning away from her abruptly to gag and retch. “Get it all out,” she tells him, rubbing a hand across his clammy back.

“It’s…” Peter gags again. “The bone… I…”

“Don’t look at it,” Natasha says firmly, pushing him back to the floor. “Tony told me you were accident prone but I didn’t know you were this bad,” she tells him with humor, pulling off the shrug she had put over her leotard and leggings and mashing it firmly into the wound, making Peter moan and turn white.

“It’s Parker Luck,” he tells her, sounding out of it. He looks like he may pass out and that just won’t do – she needs to keep him awake.

“What’s that?” She asks, brushing the hair off his forehead in a tender gesture and massaging his scalp a little.

“Just my specific brand of bad luck,” Peter says a little sardonically, his voice wavering from the pain. She wants to ask more but the door at the opposite end of the studio flies open hard enough to hit the wall and bounce back as Tony – helicopter mentor extraordinaire – skids into the room and literally trips over his own feet to get to Peter’s side. Natasha would roll her eyes if she wasn’t so concerned herself.

“What happened?” Tony asks her, tone accusatory and Natasha gives him a sharp look.

“We were doing ballet and he spun just a little too hard,” Peter groans from the floor, this time from embarrassment and covers his face with his hands muttering ‘just let me die’ under his breath. Tony flicks him on the forehead.

“Don’t be a dramatic little shit,” he chastises, still looking more worried than anything. “Only you would manage to give yourself a compound fracture learning ballet of all things.”

“Don’t be mean to me,” Peter whines. “I’m injured!”

Natasha can’t hold back her snort at this, the situation would probably be a lot less humorous if she didn’t know Peter would likely be completely back to normal in a couple weeks or less with his healing factor. The kid was like rubber.

“What did you do this time?” Bruce calls from the doorway, pulling a gurney and followed by a small gaggle of nurses. Natasha steps back and away as one of them takes over putting pressure on the still bleeding puncture and pulls Tony with her. She knows that if he had his druthers he would glue himself to Peter’s side and aggravate Bruce and the other medical professionals to death.

The team is quick and efficient in stabilizing Peter’s leg with a temporary splint and loading him on the stretcher, bustling out of her studio with Tony following just as quickly as they came in. Nat isn’t a big fan of crowds so she stays behind, cleaning the tacky blood off the floor before it dries and sets. As it is, the fine grains of the wood are tainted and she knows she has no chance of cleaning all of it out and resigns herself to dealing with flaking blood on the toes of her pointe shoes for the foreseeable future.

Satisfied with her clean up job, she slinks back to her room and showers, washing the remnants of Peter’s blood off her hands and forearms and the sweat out of her hair. She changes into some loungewear and dries her hair and, figuring she’s probably stalled long enough, grabs a book at random from her bookshelf and makes her way to the medical floor.

The halls are silently when she arrives thankfully and the waiting room is empty bar Tony. He’s seated in one corner facing the hall that leads to the operating and recovery rooms and tapping something into his StarkPad, reading glasses perched onto the tip of his nose and in danger of slipping off the end. He looks relaxed which she takes to mean the Peter will be just fine – not that she expected any different.

Tony jumps when she settles into the chair next to him, glasses falling to the floor and nearly fumbling his tablet. He sends her a glare without heat – he’s always complaining about her sneaking up on him but its not her fault he isn’t observant – and sets the tablet aside.

“Well?” She asks, quirking one eyebrow in expectation.

“He’ll be fine,” Tony tells her, relief clear in his voice. “They’d normally have to put in a pin or two but, with his healing, they just want to flush it out really well to prevent infection and then reduce the fracture and throw in some stitches and a brace. He’ll be on bed rest and crutches for the next week or so until the stitches can come out and he can transfer to a boot but he’ll be back up in no time.”

Natasha nods, she expected all of this really and pulls her legs up to sit cross-legged in the small chair. She didn’t do a cool down after her work-out and she can already feel all of her ligaments tightening up – her hips and knees crack as she adjusts and make Tony wrinkle his nose in obvious disgust. “He was doing pretty good for a while,” she says breezily. Kid’s got natural talent.”

“He can’t walk across a flat surface without tripping,” Tony tells her. “Don’t let all of his Spider-Man acrobatics fool you – Peter’s as clumsy as they come. His aunt should have wrapped him and put him in a bubble years ago.”

She laughs, elbowing Tony in the side and dodging his returning nudge. “He’s good for you,” she tells him honestly and Peter really is. She’s known Tony for a long time, considers him one of her closest friends barring Clint and this is the happiest and most settled she’s ever seen him. It makes her happy.

Tony blushes and clears his throat, trying to hide it but she can see the satisfied little smile on his face. He can’t deny his happiness. “Anyway,” he tries, changing the subject swiftly – she lets him. “You’ll have to help keep him entertained since part of this was your fault after all.”

“Not my problem the kid’s an accident waiting to happen,” she says with no heat. She already plans to hang around during Peter’s recovery. She can teach him more about ballet if he wants, he could shape up to be a pretty decent partner with some practice and she thinks it might help him a little with his balance and enhancements. Control of your body is important for both after all.

Later when Bruce leads them to Peter’s recovery room he gives her a knowing look that she ignores in favor of perching on the edge of the bed and teasing Peter about his poor technique. He’s high as a kite from the enhanced pain meds and cackles at her good natured jokes. Tony threatens to put him in a cushioned room for the rest of his life and Peter rolls his eyes like this is all par for the course.

He falls asleep again pretty quickly, drooling onto the pillow and twitching a little as he dreams and Natasha feels her chest feel with warmth.

Yes, she thinks Peter will make an excellent student.

[hanniiesuckle17]

Stray Kids Reaction to S/o Being a Ballet Dancer

A/n: I'm assuming this means like pointe dancer and/or principal dancer??? Anyway!!! Hope you like it bb!! I had fun doing this one!❤❤❤

Requested by: @desertofdessert​ (thank you bb! feel free to request again! this was so fun!!)

Chan:

Chan watched you gather up stuff and put it in the huge dance bag you carried. Unfortunately, you couldn’t spend Chan’s day off with him. It was just one of those times when your schedules didn’t match up. Chan totally understood. If you managed with his busy schedule than he could deal with yours. He also understood the expectations you were under as a principal dancer.

While he never was in the position himself, he has taken many ballet and modern dance classes when he was in Australia, so he knew how intense your job was. He also knew how short your performing career might be. “Why don’t you come with me?” Your voice brought him out of his thoughts. 

“To practice? Won’t I get in the way of the others.” 

You shook your head and tossed an extra water bottle over to him. “I’m just going for a solo run.” Chan smiled and jumped off the couch, following your out the door and to the studio your company rehearsed in. He watched in fascination as you stretched and slipped your pointe shoes on. For the next hour, Chan sat against the mirror and quietly watched in adoration as you danced across the floor. 

“You wanna try?” 

You had the brightest smile on your face as you pulled him up from the floor. You guided him through some steps and giggled as his technique was a little rusty. The two of you danced and laughed for the next couple of hours. You caught his eyes in the mirror as he held your waist to support your feet transition. A blush crept onto his cheek when you reached behind you and ghosted your hand over his cheek, coming down off your toes.

You did so in a way that was so graceful and almost like a dance move in itself. It sent chills down his spine. He loved seeing you in your element. You turned into a different person when you were dancing, he loved seeing you confident and moving without hesitation. He loved seeing your smile as he assisted you through a posse turn. You practically lit up the entire room.

I cant believe some people forget Chris has some classical dance training. I love thinking about him as modern dancer like wow

Minho:

Being a dancer himself, Minho loved how passionate you were about your art. He loved that he could have someone to go to the gym with and would understand having to go on crazy diets. It definitely helped his motivation with you to keep in him in check and vice versa.

However, what he didn’t like was your schedule. Usually, he came home late, and you left home early. He wasn’t the most touchy-feely person, but he did miss seeing you sometimes. So, he made a commitment to you that he would soon regret. There Minho was. At the studio with you. At five in the morning. “Only for you.” He muttered under his breath for the thousandth time. 

It was really his idea. So he was to blame. He was the one who asked you to teach him a routine. However, he had no idea spinning on his bare feet would hurt so much. “You wanna try a lift?” You said coming beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. 

How were you not out of breath??????? Minho was sweating buckets under his jacket. “Hell yeah!” Why did he say that? That was not what he meant. He meant no. He meant let’s go back to bed like normal people. You explained to him how to do a pretty simple lift and how to get out of it. “Hold up. You want my hand where?” He asked with a mischievous smirk. You rolled your eyes and shoved him lightly. 

“It’s a simple move. Let’s try just once- without the coupe turn.” 

Minho laughed and nodded. He followed your instruction, watching in the mirror. As directed he placed his left hand around your abdomen and this right secured tightly over your right thigh. “Okay and now you lift up and dip.”

“Which way?”

“Forward and down. Duh.”

“DOWN. WHAT IF  I DROP YOU ON YOUR HeAd??”

“You’ll do fine, Minho.” Carefully, he lifted you and he was surprised feeling the muscles of your stomach tighten and hold yourself up in his arms even as he dipped you. “See! You did awesome.” You laughed when you saw his terrified face in the mirror.

Changbin:

Changbin was ecstatic when he found out you were a ballerina. He was so proud of you. After that, he never missed one of your shows. He was always seated front and center with the goofiest, most proud grin on his face waiting for the lights to go down. He also makes you sign his program for every show. He keeps every single one of the programs and he says he wants to make a collage to frame for you.

He does worry about you often, knowing how strict your career is. He knows your schedule almost better than he knows his own. He’ll constantly check up on you and send you a text reminding you that you have to change out your toe pads and drink water.

You smiled hearing your boyfriend’s ringtone as you exited the rehearsal room. “Hi, Binnie! Where are you?” You giggled hearing he was waiting outside for you. He greeted you with a sweet kiss and wrapped his arms around you, blocking the cold air from penetrating your thin sweater.

“I’m buying you dinner. Let’s go.” He grabbed your hand and dragged you to the nearest hole in the wall restaurant he could find. He frowned when you ordered so little to eat. He sent you a stern glare as the waiter took away your menu. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped when you saw his face.

“Bin, I’ve got a dress and corset to fit into! Don’t worry, I remember our rule.” When you and Bin started dating he came up with this rule he was adamant you follow, especially while you were prepping for a show. He had a rule that you couldn’t walk away from the table if there was still food on your plate. He instituted the rule when he figured out you weren’t finishing meals the closer a show was.

Towards the end of your meal, you smiled as Changbin placed a generous piece of his food onto your plate. You picked it up and ate it gratefully. You frowned when he placed another piece on your almost empty plate without looking up from his food. Again you ate the food, honoring his rule. This time your boyfriend held eye contact with you as he dropped a huge piece of food on your plate. 

“YAH SEO CHANGBIN!”

“WHAT?”

Hyunjin:

When Hyunjin met you he was instantly fascinated by you. When he found out you were a professional dancer the man was immediately whipped. However, he was so obsessed with the fact with the idea of being the perfect dancing couple he forgot to ask what kind of dancer you were. 

You had nothing to do today. Hyunjin was busy with schedules today and couldn’t come over. You had an audition coming up for the lead in Cinderella so you figured now would be a good time to practice. You had bought this apartment specifically for the fact that the living room was huge and had nice real wood floors. 

Pushing all the furniture out of the way you cleared a large enough space to dance in. Pulling out your semi-new pointe shoes you started prepping them. The room started to smell a little like burning fabric as you burned the frayed edges of your ribbons. A rich sound rang throughout your apartment as you banged the pleats of your shoes on the floor. 

Music filled your apartment as you went through your audition routine. You focused on your turnout, keeping it perfectly positioned throughout your movements. You pushed up on relevae and into an arabesque keeping your core tight and leg high and elegant.

“Hey Y/n, Surpris- HOLY WHAT THE GOOD CLEAR PANTS OF JYP???”

You turned to find Hyunjin staring at you with his jaw dropped in shock. Turning off the music you walked over to your boyfriend with a smile and kissed his cheek. He still stood frozen like the drama queen he was. “Hi, honey! How are you?” He blinked and stared at you. He stepped away and took in all of you, his eyes lingering on your shoes. 

“This is not what I expected......but I am so impressed right now.”

You smiled and pulled him down to kiss you, but he stopped your motion. “Nuh-uh. That’s cheating. You gotta work for it now.” He smirked down at you. With a giggle you rose in your shoes and kissed him, tangling your fingers in his soft hair.

Jisung:

Your relationship with Jisung was almost as old as the both of you. You had always been friends since before you could remember and Jisung could even remember you telling him about your very first dance class. You remembered him kissing you after your first lead performance and his cheeky smile when you and to stand on pointe to reach his lips at the time. 

Jisung loved to watch you dance. It was maybe one of his favorite things in the entire world. He was always proudest when he was watching you float across a dance floor or stage. He was captivated by how powerful you were and what you could make your body do. However, there was another side to it...

“Ji...” You said walking through the door of your shared apartment. Hearing his nickname he jumped off the couch and took your bag off your shoulders. As the days grew closer to your shows he made sure to always be home before you. Even if that meant him getting up at three or four am to go back to the studio. You kissed his cheek with a huge grin and watched with adoration as he put your stuff on the table and picked you up and hurried you over to the couch as carefully as possible.

“Baby, I’m not glass. I can walk!” 

“WE MUST PROTECT THE MERCHANDISE OKAY!”

When you were seated he grabbed the several ice packs from the freezer and made sure that he had enough to switch out later. You giggled watching him scramble to take care of you. Carefully, he took off your sneakers and winced at the red spots on your ankles and feet. “Ji- I can ice my own feet. I’ve been doing it for years-”

“LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU, WOMAN!”

You laughed and pulled him to your lips by the collar of his shirt. You loved that he knew your schedule. Even before you had moved in together Ji had known your schedule after ballet. Ice, eat, ice, stretch, ice and review rehearsal footage, then sleep. “How was your day?” He asked pecking your lips again. You smiled and looked into his soft brown eyes. 

“Fantastic now.”

Felix:

Felix and you had been friends long before he made it big in the music industry. He always knew you danced, but until you started dating a couple months ago he had never really taken an interest in your dancing. Not because he didn’t care. He was just so god damn busy. He felt kind of bad that you didn’t even expect him to take an interest. 

You never asked him to come to a show. You never really talked about rehearsals unless it conflicted with setting up a date, and you never danced in front of him. So, he was determined to change that. You came to the JYP practice room straight from rehearsal as Felix had asked. 

You greeted the boys as the left the studio and found Felix standing by the mirror messing with his phone. He jumped when you wrapped your arms around his waist. “Ready to go, Lix?” You asked after kissing his cheek. “Actually,” He said turning around.

“We are gonna have our date here. You are gonna teach me about ballet!” You laughed and kissed him with a bright smile. You knew he wouldn’t last more than two hours. An hour later, Felix had shed his hoodie and was sweating through his tank top while you stood happily in your leggings and pointe shoes. You had to admit he was doing better than you thought.

“Oh my god! How do your feet open like that, you mutant!” Felix cried out trying to stay in first position. 

However, when it came to actually dancing, Felix was fascinated. It was so different from how he danced. Felix had surprisingly good extension and he got some pretty good air on a couple leaps. And he loved watching you dance-especially when you went up on your toes. He thought you looked beautiful and elegant. 

“That’s it I can’t take it. Take me home.”

“Great! Now I can teach you the second half of ballerina life.”

“What’s that?”

“Ice.”

I've low-key wanted to do a Felix ballet au bc gosh darn he is just so elegant and wooooooooww ballet!felix

Seungmin:

Seungmin loved watching you dance. The two of you didn’t live together yet, so he took every opportunity to see you dance anytime he could. He came to all of your shows and you practically had to kick him out of your closed rehearsals. For his birthday (per his request) you choreographed and performed a routine to his favorite Day6 song. 

Date nights for the two of you usually happen after your rehearsals end and consist of your icing your body on the couch with Seungmin next to you, either watching a movie or talking and eating takeout. 

“Seungmin? Are you here?” You called out into your apartment. Sounds from the kitchen confirmed the presence of your boyfriend. “Minnie?” You dropped your bag by the door and took off your shoes. Seungmin shuffled out of your kitchen with two mugs of tea in hand. 

“What are we doing tonight?” He asked, setting the tea on your coffee table. He sighed when he saw the innocent smile on your face. “Really......again?” He laughed when you nodded excitedly. 

“Fine.”

You cheered as he went to get ice packs and you pulled up Centerstage on Netflix. Seungmin was a good sport. This was probably the twenty-sixth time he had seen this film since dating you. He knew that the movie made you happy, especially if you had a rough day at rehearsals. 

“Man,  Cooper gets douchier and douchier every time we watch this.” Seungmin sighed, his arm around you. 

“Yeah and Charlie gets dreamier and dreamier.”

“What?”

“What-”

Jeongin:

Jeongin watched the video you sent him with a huge smile on his face. You were on tour with your company, so you couldn’t be with him for a few days. Even though you were still in the country, he really missed seeing you. 

It was so weird for him to not pick you up from practice. His eyes twinkled as he watched you dance across the backstage area of a venue. He smiled when he saw you rush back over to your phone and wave to him with a happy grin. The video was sent two days ago. You had talked earlier that day but he still missed you. 

“Jeongin,” His attention snapped away from his phone and to Chan towering above him. His hyung helped him stand up and clapped him on the back. “Ready to go back to practice?” Jeongin sighed and nodded. “Hey, I’ve got a surprise for you,” Chan said running to his bag. 

“Chan I’m just kind of depressed with Y/n away for so long.” 

“I know. That’s why we are going to Y/n’s next show.”

Jeongin’s eyes widened as he watched Chan pull out two tickets to your show, Giselle. After practice, Chan drove the two boys two hours away to your venue to see her perform. Jeongin watched you dance across the stage with bright eyes. He loved watching you become the character of Giselle, though he couldn’t help but be a little jealous of the man who played your fiance.

When he and Chan surprised you backstage, you jumped into his arms and kissed him all over. “Innie! You came!” He smiled and wouldn’t stop talking about how fantastic you were. 

“Y/n! Oh my god! You were so good! The whole leap thing, and your turns! And the thing with the lift- it was so cool! You did incredible baby!”

Requests are open! Just send an ask!

Masterlist

[starkatana]

All You Need to Know

Jason Todd X Female Reader

WordCount: 2813 (it’s long!~)

Summary: Jason proposes to you and you two have a smaller wedding with the BatFam in attendance at your Vegas wedding.

Author’s note: So, here begins my various one-shots of Jason Todd/Red Hood x Reader//y/n AKA my current obsession. I may compile all of them into chronological order once everything is done. I just really wanted to write and post something. I just have too many WIP’s right now that I need to focus on.

They aren’t exact ages. This is just a world that I made using these characters because I can. In this AU, Jason has died and come back to life. You two broke up and you dated Peter Parker (Spider-Man) for a little bit. At this point, you and Jason are 24-ish?

You are a dancer who works at a dance studio.

Sorry if its a little out of character, this is just based on my knowledge that tumblr has given me.

I used this post from fandomneeds!

Jason’s vows is the song: All You Need to Know by Gryffin

Hope you enjoy!

Jason scratched his head and crumpled up the vows he was working on.

“Ugh.”

Roy peeked into Jay’s room, “Having a hard time?” He cocked a sarcastic smile at his best friend.

“Fuck. Every time I try to write something it seems just so stupid and cookie cutter.”

“Aren’t those what vows are? Just telling the person you want to spend the rest of your life with them sickness and in health blah blah.”

“Yeah.” Jason shrugged, “I have basic vows for the Gotham wedding, but for the wedding this weekend, I just want them to be different and less like everything else.”

“Well, what do you want to say?”

“Exactly.”

Roy laughed. “You’ve read a million books you’re telling me that you can’t string the most romantic scenes and moments together?”

Jason sat back in the chair.

“What does she need to know? What are you confessing in front of the hardest people you need to impress? Me and the rest of your siblings.”

“It's not for you guys. It’s for us.”

“Then what do you want to tell her?”

Jason sat back in his chair with his hand behind his head, remembering the evening he asked you to marry him.

It happened to be a night that you and Jason didn’t have patrol, so you two made a date night out of it. The two of you are sitting in a booth at your favorite local diner. You two managed to keep it a secret from everyone else in the Batfam so they wouldn’t just show up and surprise you two. It’s late at night and you two had been there so often that the wait staff had your orders memorized. He was sitting across from you with his arms outstretched over the back of the booth as he listened to you talk with a half-smirk on his face.

You were sitting back in your booth just going on about your students from the dance studio. He loved how passionate you were about your job and how much you cared for other people. You two had been through so much, even when he had been an ass to you. You somehow took him back after everything he said and put you through. He was grateful for that. Life made sense with you.

“Hello? Earth to Jason.” You were waving your hand in his face snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Are you even listening?”

“Yeah! You were saying how you had to help some of your kids with their science and math homework and how you don’t miss science and math homework. Then you told me about the puppies you saw on your way to work today. And no, I still don’t think getting a dog is a good idea.”

“Okay, so you were listening,” you chuckle, “Sorry you just looked zoned out. I thought I was just rambling.”

“No.” Jason sits up leaning forward in the booth putting his hands on the table. “I like listening to you talk.”

You smile and instinctively lean into him as he takes on of your hands and with the other, you stir your milkshake. He gently rubs over your thumb. Basking in the comfortable silence and the background noise of the diner. Still holding his hand you sit back in the booth and close your eyes. If only every night could be this comfortable.

“Y/n.”

“Hm?” You respond without opening your eyes. He squeezes your hand.

“Will you marry me?”

You open an eye and take a peek at him. He was still sitting across the table from you. He hadn’t moved and was looking right at you.

He couldn’t possibly be serious. You chuckle. “Shut up.” You respond closing your eyes again.

“No, I’m serious.”

You take your hand back and sit up in the booth and stare at him half confused and half suspicious. You narrowed your eyes trying to gauge his reaction. Almost expecting him to go “Haha. Gotcha.” Or “I’m kidding.” You don’t know why he’d joke like that but you don’t know why he’d be asking you to marry him.

Marriage was something you two talked about but it was also something you two would just let happen when it felt most comfortable. You knew you wanted to be with him and he with you. So, you weren’t sure why you thought he was kidding.

“I know I don’t have a ring and I know I’m not down on one knee but I want to spend the rest of my life with you and after everything that happened I know you’re the one I want to spend my life with. I’m planning to get you a ring but I wanted to get you something with my money, not Bruce’s.  I couldn’t wait to ask you.”

“Jay....”

“Do you want me to get on one knee? I will if you want.” he begins to stand up.

“No.” You grab his hand and set him back down, “No it’s okay. I’d love to marry you. I’ll happily marry you. No ring needed. No need to get on one knee.”

He squeezes your hand.

“Should we just run away?” He teased.

“And have Roy be our witness and third wheel forever?”

“And always.”

You two share a kiss across the table.

“I got it.”

You two decided to elope to Vegas. You two were going to have a real wedding soon where paparazzi would be “invited” your mom would be there and all your business colleagues, Wayne enterprises, socialites, and other Gotham elite it would be a wedding for everyone. But you and Jason wanted a smaller ceremony for the two of you first. What started small as in you, Jay, and Roy. Turned into a Batkid affair. So you, Jason, Roy, Dick, Duke, Tim, Damian, Cas, Steph, and Babs all flew out to Vegas. Your first day in Vegas while everyone was out walking around together around the Vegas strip. You and Jason decided on a small stage space close to the end of the “Venetian” river.

It was Vegas wedding day. Roy stood beside Jason. They weren’t wearing tuxes but they were dressed nicer. Jason had on black pinstriped pants, a red button-up with the sleeves rolled up with a black-tie done loosely with a black vest on. Roy had on black dress pants with a yellow dress shirt rolled up like Jason’s and unbuttoned near the top with suspenders on.

The two of them were making small talk, to help calm Jason’s nerves. The plan was for him and Roy to be there with the photographer before the impromptu wedding. Then the rest of the family would appear shortly after. Jason had his hands in his pant’s pockets and laughed at Roy’s joke.

“You’re in a good mood.”

“It’s not every day, I get to marry my best friend.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t let you cheat on y/n with me.”

Jason rolled his eyes at Roy. When Roy gave him a big smile and pointed behind Jay.

Jason turned around and Dick was leading the train of the Batfam. Jason tried to look past them all to get a glimpse of you, but they had you perfectly hidden behind them.

At this point, the passersby that were minding their own business began to stop and hang around, some kept minding their own business, while others were interested in the show. Dick greeted Jason first, he patted his shoulder, “Congrats, Little Wing.” Jason gave his brother a light punch in the arm and Dick moved aside. Following Dick was Tim who also gave him congratulations. Then there is Duke, where the two shared a hug. Cass was after and gave him a fake one-two punch in the gut followed by a hug. Next was Steph and then Babs, who he shared a hug with both of them.

“You’re in for a treat.” Steph teased.

Babs blew Jason a kiss and the two stood next to Cas.

Jason looked over at his family to the side of him. A lot has happened and they stood by him through it all. To have them all here, he was grateful. Then everyone looked over to where they came in. Little Damien, who is now 13 much more mature than the 8-year-old you had originally met. Damien loved you and thought of you as a big sister.

You planned to walk down the aisle yourself, but when Damien asked if he could give you away to Jason who were you to deny him.

You always knew Damien thought highly of you but one day after you and Jason had gotten back together after your hiatus apart. Damien lectured you left and right about how if Todd is ever a dick to you again he’d take care of Todd himself.

“Not if I handled him myself first.” You joked with Damien.

“Good.”

Then one day, you’ll never forget you were looking for Damien, but couldn’t find him in the manor. You walked outside onto the manor’s patio where Dick and Jason were sitting.

“Hey, do you know where Damian is?” you ask taking a seat next to Jason, “I can’t find him.”

“Yeah,” Dick nods, “Hold on, I got this.” He clears his throat. “DAMIAN! JASON IS BULLYING Y/N!!!”

Jason shook his head and looked at Dick, “Wait, what?!”

“Goddammit!”

You and Jason looked around and then up as Dick nodded proudly. Damien opened the window from the second floor in the manor and jumped out of it with a fighting stick. “TODD!”

Jason gets up from where he’s sitting and quickly runs out of the way, “GAAHH!!!”

You look over at Dick who nods and is giving you two thumbs up.

Back to the wedding:

Jason’s jaw dropped and he couldn’t believe that he was so lucky to have you. You were in a short spaghetti strap lacy white dress it hugged your body and your curves it had a slight v neck to it but wasn’t revealing. You wore your hair down nothing too fancy, just some soft waves and a baby’s breath crown on your head with your hair resting on your left shoulder.

You had a small light pink and black bouquet. Your shoes were a metallic white pearl shoe with skinny heel with a buckle around the ankle. It took everything in Jason not to just run over to you, sweep you off your feet and shower you in kisses. He was the happiest and luckiest man alive. The photographer was snapping pictures like crazy. When you left Alfred just asked for some pictures of the wedding, if Alfred wanted photos he was going to get them. No questions asked.

Roy nudged Jason. Jason nudged him back and couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

Damien walked you up to Jason.

“Thanks, Dami.” And you two shared a hug.

Damien turned around and glared at Jason. “Todd.”

“Demon spawn.” He cracks Damian a half-smile.

“Don’t mess this up, again.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t.”

Damian nods and steps aside letting Jason know that he’s approved of you two together again. You give Damien your bouquet. He walks over next to Babs and Steph. Jason offered you his hand. You take it and he leans into you as he helps you up, “You look absolutely gorgeous.” He stands up straight as you two take each other’s hands.

“Everyone is staring at us.”

“Everyone is staring at you.” Jason gestured, down to what you were wearing, giving you an ‘it’s definitely not me, it’s you’ kind of look.  You smiled at him as you moved your hair out of your face and then take his hands again. He couldn’t stop smiling as much as he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Looking at you like this was like falling in love all over again. This was happening.

“Hello, friends and family.” Roy began, “We are gathered here for the marriage of our beloved Y/f/n/   y/m/n   y/l/n and our shit-eating boy, Jason Peter Todd.”

Everyone chuckles at Roy and Jay playfully flips him off.

“Now, the couple would like to say their vows.”

“Jason Peter Todd.” You began, “Where do I even begin with you. With us? Since my first day at Gotham Academy when you kept spilling coffee on me. We’ve unfortunately been best friends since. You’ve been my first choice always since we’ve met and since I’ve been with you I’ve never safer. From the highs and the lows you’ve been with me through it all.” You wipe one of your eyes, “I couldn’t imagine going through life with anyone else except for you. So, take me as I am because I have already taken you. I promise to always be by your side through anything the world may throw at us. I’ll protect you through it all.”

He brings your hands to his lips and kisses them.

“I guess it’s my turn.” He rolls his shoulders back while he stands up straight with your hands still in his. “Y/n.”

He looks around him, his brothers, and his sisters. The crowd that had gathered during your ceremony. The perfect weather and the beautiful bride he has. You were breathtaking. Looking at you, his heart skipped a beat.

Every. Single. Time.

He takes a deep breath before beginning.

“I’ll keep it as simple as I can.” He bites his lip, “Shit.” He wipes his eye. “How’d you do this without balling?” he joked.

You chuckle, “It was hard.”

“Ok,” he gives your hands another squeeze, “Y/n, you don't have to listen carefully, because I will tell you a thousand times. With your hands in mine, look at this thing we found. I have everything I need and I promise to give you everything you will ever need because you make me not want to die.”

You let out a chuckle and Roy rolled his eyes. Before you and Jason would say ‘I love you’ that’s what you’d say to each other, when you first started dating and when you guys got back together.

You’d be leaving the safe house for dance practice and Jason called after you, “Y/n!”

“What?”

He’d tilt his head and give you a soft smile, “you make me not want to die.”

You crack a smile and flip him off as he flips you off in return. You continue walking away and Jason can’t help but keep his eyes glued on you as you left.

“You two have the weirdest relationship.” Roy pretended to be disgusted.

“When you get sad like you do sometimes. Anything you feel. Put it all on me. All of your thoughts, I want everything. I’m letting you know, I’m going to be around.”

It had been months since you and Peter broke up and since you have decided not to take Jason back. You opened your eyes and started to cry. He was standing in front of you. “What happened to us?” You ask wiping away your tears.

He goes to step towards you and you back away making yourself smaller.

“Y/n.” He hesitates and puts his arms back to his side.

You don’t look at him.

“I’m sorry.” You look at him. Now he was crying, “I was wrong. You were right and I shouldn’t have done the things that I did but I did and I hurt you and I’m sorry. I don’t want to be apart from you anymore. I’m better with you than I am without you.”

“Jason...” you feel your chest tighten as more tears begin to fall.

“All I want to do is love you and if you don’t want to be with me. At least let me be around...again. I miss my best friend.”

You get on your tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck. Where he wraps his arms around your body in a tight embrace.

“I never stopped loving you.” You cried. “I’m so scared and lost I don’t know what I want.” You begin to hiccup and Jason rubs your back.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. Sincerely. I promise I won’t ever be the reason you cry again.”

“I'll lift you when you're feeling low. I'll hold you when the night gets cold. Your fears and your thoughts, give me all of it. You'll never have to be alone and that's all you need to know.”

You wipe away your tears.

“I’m sorry.” Jason apologized.

You shook your head no, “Good tears.” He smiles at you and you both look over at Roy who smiling at them softly. He nods and breaks the silence: “Jason Peter Todd, you may kiss your bride.”

Jason cups your face as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss on the lips as the audience that has since gathered clapped and cheered but not louder than his and your family only a few steps away.

[notaburgler]

Dadzawa  and Eri

Getting Eri comfortable with the usual young child activities was a difficult task, but not impossible. Midorya and Mirio played a vital role. 

She saw them as something more than wannabe heroes. Her life- once shrouded in darkness- was opened to a new beginning filled with laughter and joy. The cultural festival brought a smile to her face none had ever seen before. The dancing and singing and the talent every student exuded gave her hope for a clearer and more promising future. 

Her tiny hands clenched onto Mirio’s hair as she sat upon his shoulders for a good view. It wasn't fear that claimed her, it was happiness. Mirio gladly took the pain in strides, happy to see, for the first time, a genuine smile on her soft face. Hearing her gasp of amazement, feeling her fingers weave tighter between his blonde hair, sensing the weight she felt pressing down on her shoulders lifted. 

Eri was a kid for the first time.

A sleepy yawn spurred Aizawa into motion, after all, she was in his care. This meant more than simply making sure that her quirk didn’t activate and hurt anyone, it meant making sure she ate her vegetables and got a good night's sleep. I meant keeping her active and reintegrating her back into society. After the trauma she faced at the hands of overhaul, everyone needed to be onboard with helping her.

Present mic spent time with her to teach her about music. Midnight… well, maybe having midnight alone with the girl wasn’t the best idea. The principal gave her comfort around animals, something that would be beneficial seeing as Aizawa had a few cats at home. Class-A made her confident and welcomed her into all of the fun activities they planned: shopping, video games, girls night. She was finally starting to feel young- free. 

Aizawa sat at his desk with a red pen in hand. So many wrong answers… so many. He had hope for them, but it seemed they only cared about the hero side of the course. He couldn’t be too hard on them, they were all aspiring hero’s after all. 

A small tug on his sleeve drew his blood shot attention to his waist where eri stood nervously. 

Outside he remained calm and collected as she had grown to expect from him. But deep inside, he panicked. Did she wet the bed? Did she have another nightmare about Overhaul? Was she hungry or thirsty?

He smiled. A soft turn of his lips, something he had practiced after his Cheshire grin had thrown her into a fit of terror that took days for her to calm down from.

“What is it, Eri?” His large hand nearly eclipsed her head entirely. 

A small huff and a rare smile graced her lips. 

Eri had been building the courage to ask for a few nights. She’d spent hours watching YouTube videos and watching other people interact in hopes of finding the magic words to get what she desired. But when his gaze fell on her, and she was put on the spot, her voice box clammed up and the words got lost inside her nervous tremble. 

Instead of speaking- a possibility she had expected and prepared for- she thrust a paper into his gut all while boring holes in the ground below her feet.

Shocked, he looked down at her tiny stature, trembling with nerves, and smiled softly. With steady and gentle hands, he grabbed the paper pushed lightly into his stomach, Eri’s arms retracting back to her sides. She nervously fiddled with the hem of her dress, anxiously waiting for Aizawa’s response. Her eyes remained trained on the floor, unwilling to face the reality of such a request.

“Oh?” His usual low, gruff voice replaced by a cheerful yip, “what’s this?” He asked as if he hadn’t put the pieces together already.

Eri needed confidence. She needed to be able to look people in the eyes and ask what it is she wanted from them without fear or retaliation or abuse. 

She knew she was no longer in the care of a heartless monster. Her new caretaker is far more understanding and compassionate. 

As small and weak as a mouse, her tiny voice barely made a dent in the silence of the room. With the cup of his ear, and the hunch of his back to get lower to her, he hummed in question. He knew exactly what she said and exactly what she wanted; but that wasn’t the point. The point was to build her up, to make her comfortable in asking questions and asking to do things a normal child would do.

Slightly louder than before, her voice crept up her throat, temporarily snagging in the paranoia that still lingered behind from her days tucked away underground. “Can I?”

He sat back up and looked over the pamphlet. In reality, it was a ruse to give him time to think. Aizawa wondered if that was enough or if he should push her further in hopes of helping her past these fears. But the trembling lip and tear lined eyes set his soul to rest and he gladly accepted her attempts as enough.

Finally, he took a moment to see what it was she wanted: dance classes. Given her complete reluctance to human interaction outside of a small circle of people, would dance classes be a good thing for her? He did know that when she thought no one was looking she would dance around her room with the teddy bear Mirio had won for her at the arcade. But did she know all that would go into this? Was she aware that she would need to put trust in other people to do ballet?

After skimming over the pamphlet, he lowered it to his thighs, “Eri,” he began, “are you sure about this? You’ll be in front of people and you might get a dance partner you don’t know.”

She shuffled her feet as she finally raised her gaze to her caretaker, “I overheard you talking about how I need to get out there more and trust people. So I wanna do this so I can.” Her tears started to trail down her cheeks.

She wasn’t supposed to hear that. 

“Ok, ok….” he sighed looking back over the pamphlet once more, “we can go see what it’s like on my next day off. But you know you don’t have to push yourself so far. Especially with your quirk. But we can talk about that in the morning.” He patted her head and sent her off to sleep.  

****

Eri hid behind Aizawa’s leg as they entered, her grip almost painful on his thigh. “Eri,” he kneeled before her to get eye contact, “this is what you wanted, remember?” He patted her head and led her deeper inside the building. 

“Mr. Aizawa.” The teacher waved as he entered the large studio, “so glad you made it. This must be little Eri?” Her smile was meant to calm the young girl.

He took a seat as she slipped into a loaner uniform. She did her best to follow suit and do as the others did, but she tumble and fall, and feel the disappointment build up. When he saw the tingle of her horn and her face scrunch up, he quickly activated his quirk and rushed to calm her down.

His hand circled gently along her back as he spoke, “you won’t be perfect right off the bat. Just keep trying and don’t get discouraged because you didn’t do it right the first time. Get up, and try again.” 

She nodded, her quirk calming and his hair falling to his face again. 

As the day pressed on, she managed a few spins and twirls. He relished in the sight of her eyes lightning up and a cheerful grin stretching across her face. He couldn’t resist the urge to allow his own lips to curl. The other girls and boys in her class effortlessly took her under their wings and helped when needed. 

Aizawa was proud. The foreign feeling inside of him sniffed his other senses and clouded all other thoughts. A paternal nature took over, his instinct to rush to his feet when she scraped a knee or failed a spin overwhelmed him. He wanted to protect her; to keep her from harm. Anyone that dare cause her any pain would suffer a fate worse than death.

Maybe spending so much time caring for a small child had changed him?

All of that fear. All of that tension inside after each bump and bruise fell from him when she smiled and laugh. When she’d get back up with a huff and determination to do it again, and get it right. It reminded himself of his hero training and learning the use of his capture weapon. He couldn’t help but see himself in the little girl failing over and over again, only to rise from the ashes of defeat and face the challenge head on once more with more vigor and more fight in her.

****

Weeks had passed. Eri loved her dance classes and thanked Aizawa over and over again for allowing her to partake. He noticed the small changes in her confidence. The way she held herself and the comfort she had in her own skin. After day three of class, he no longer needed to go with her, comfortable with the students there enough to know her quirk would be no issue. This may have played a vital role in her confidence as well. Seeing Aizawa leave the studio and allow her to be around people vulnerable to her quirk, that could die at any moment if she lost control, helped her feel a balance inside of her. She proudly stood in front of the mirror, watching her body move and learning the motions of the routine they would perform in a few days time.

He looked forward to it. Seeing her stand on stage, dancing and having fun was more of a gift than anything else. He didn’t care much for the actual routine, he knew she wouldn’t be great, but time would allow her to perfect her art. He cared more about the social aftermath of the event. 

Coming home from hero work after a long day teaching class was exhausting. He sighed, throwing his capture scarf onto the coat rack and sliding his shoes off and his slippers on. With relative ease, his hair was tossed into a ponytail and the bag left on the couch opened to continue his teacherly duties. There was no off time for Shouta Aizawa. If he wasn’t grading papers and coordinating training opportunities, he was saving people and patrolling the city streets. His bones ached, his head throbbed; he wanted nothing more than to either sleep, or be put out of his misery. Every waking moment brought more misery than anticipated the day before. He shouldn’t feel so old when he was still so young. Thirty wasn’t that old, was it? Yes, sometimes his students joked about his age. Maybe telling them wasn’t the best idea. Although future hero’s, they were still kids and were still unintentionally cruel. He felt it though. He felt thirty, there was no doubt there. Increasing his trips to the gym was supposed to help, and to some extent, they did, but he still felt tired and sore all of the time.

As he rested on his overstuffed couch, the urge to sleep hit him like a runaway train. His eyes fluttering shut only to quickly open and be rubbed raw. With a tilted head, he dropped a few of his eye drops into each one and blinked rapidly to disperse the fluid throughout. Only ten at night and he was already ready to tap out. 

****

He waited anxiously now that the other classes had done their routines. He was lucky to have Mirio beside him, otherwise he would have napped through the whole show. Any chance to get rest was taken for the pro. 

A silent stage and quiet, muffled banter among the other parents made him feel out of place. He care for Eri and helped her through tough times; but was he really supposed to be there? He guessed, if anything, he could classify himself as her uncle, even if that was a bit of a stretch. 

“Eri was so excited.” Mirio beemed. His smile was so bright it could have burnt ants under a microscope. 

Aizawa huffed. He knew. The girl was impatient and wore her tutu around the house like a normal part of her attire. In all honesty, he was still disappointed that the clothes he picked out were sniffed by the nurses.

It was almost time. She would soon be walking out with her cute pink tutu and the exorbitantly expensive ballerina shoes. He felt the race in his heart, a flush coming to his face. It was a whole new feeling for him. He’d been afraid for her, afraid for his students. He’d felt exhausted with caring for her in addition to his usual duties, and proud of accomplishments made. Those small accomplishments proved his exhaustion to be more than worth it. But the feeling invading every inch of his body, from his head to his toes, was foreign. Excitement wasn’t an emotion he felt often- especially in regards to another person or something as ridiculous as a child’s ballet recital.

When the time passed that her class was to perform, the excitement he felt twisted and contented to another new feeling: nervousness. He hoped everything was well. A fear crept up on him that maybe Eri was being held up by some brat that didn’t like that she wasn’t part of the front line. 

Aizawa let an audible snarl snake out of his throat in a guttural growl. That little shit Sakura was probably the reason behind it too. She was such a diva and hated that Eri was even in her class. She was rude and pampered by her parents; neither of the once telling the little urchin no. 

He spited her mom and dad across the room. Both so arrogant and cocky. Thinking their kids shit doesn’t stink… whatever, he thought. Who cares? Eri was doing this for her, and overcoming her anxieties. He wouldn’t let some asshole kid and her incompetent parents stop Eri from pursuing something that would do her good.

Mirio hummed, having a good vantage point to the back, “I’m gonna go check on them.” He places his hands on the arm rests to hoist himself up, but a hand stopped him.

“I’ll go. If Eri is under too much stress, I may be needed.”

Mirio smiled after Aizawas attempt to seem uninterested in checking on her. It was rather cute how he came up with a reason on the spot to go see if she was ok. He knew, deep down, that Aizawa was more than just a caretaker for the little girl. He did far more than just make sure she was safe, and fed, and didn’t accidentally use her quirk on someone. If that’s all he was, he wouldn’t be sitting front row, in the best seats. He wouldn’t have urged Mirio to hurry up so they got there early to get those seats. He wouldn’t have been dripping with sweat in anticipation and nervousness. By all accounts, Aizawa was as much this girl's father as any other parent seated in that crowd; and it warmed Mirios heart knowing that even if he wasn’t around, Aizawa would assure that she was happy and healthy. 

Almost ten minutes had passed and the music started. Mirio looked around frantically for the eraser hero. He’d been looking forward to this for weeks- not that Aizawa had said anything. Little nuggets of excitement creeped out of him when the subject came up. A new life would come to his face upon hearing that she finally nailed a spin or that her flexibility had gotten better. He chalked it up to the information only benefiting Eri and her training to control her quirk. “If she can control her body, her quirk will be easier to control.” He's day and leave it at that.

As the curtains opened, the blonde panicked. Aizawa couldn't miss it! Eri would be devastated if she looked out into the crowd and didn’t see her pseudo father sitting proudly up front. 

“Damn.” Mirio prepared to voicelessly tell Eri that he would be back and he hadn’t left her. He was sure she knew since Aizawa was the one to check on her.

Tiny feet tip toed across the wood floor. A line of pretty ballerinas following the teachers instructions in front. The final ballerina, Eri, made her way out. She struggled to stay on her toes, but large hands helped her back up, leaning down to be used as a way to keep her balance. 

Mirio’s heart burst in his chest- dead on site. Aizawa, donning a rose pink tutu, followed with Eri, dancing with the girls on the stage. He was rather good in Mirio’s opinion. Hushed whispers filled the auditorium, and a few flashes of cameras. 

Aizawa would never live this down. 

He would need to find all people and demand that the evidence of this was destroyed. He glanced over to see Mirio, in tears, recording it all. 

A roll of his eyes that allowed him to see the back of his skull was hidden from Eri as she looked up with bright, doe eyes. She was ecstatic. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad? Maybe a photo or two getting out of him being a loving and attentive caretaker to the girl would rest the mind of his students' parents? But the possible negative aftershock of the photos could permanently damage his reputation. 

“Mr. Aizawa?” The teacher raised her brow as he stood awkwardly, “you have to plié.” He muttered under her breath. 

He sighed, and did his best. God he hoped this was worth it.

****

The final routine ended and Eri came running out to him with open arms and a smile.

“I’m so happy Aizawa! I had so much fun and even though I was scared and nervous, you helped me through it! Thank you Aizawa!” She huffed his leg, “now I know I can get through anything as long as I have you here to help me.” Her eyes like saucers looked up to him showing him the hope and passion he hoped this class would bring her.

With a gentle pat to her head, he kneeled down, “you did great.” His smile soft and comforting, “next time, lets try doing it alone, ok?”

[svt-junhwan]

the new kid |

in which | jihoon learns to adore junhwan

characters | junhwan miller, lee jihoon, kye beomju, vernon chwe, yoon jeonghan

word count | 2.0k

circa | pre-debut (late 2012)

Jihoon quickly slings his bag onto his shoulders, calling a hasty goodbye to the other trainees in the dance practice room before he rushes off through the building. It’s not as if he’ll be punished or even reprimanded for being late, he just wants as much time as he can have in the studio with Bumzu; it’s a self accountability thing.

The boy stumbles into the studio with an apology already spilling out of his mouth, “I’m sorry I’m late, dance practice ran long and I just got out. I tried to get here as fast as possible.”

Bumzu turns in his chair from where he had been pointing at something on his computer screen. The older man smiles at Jihoon.

“It’s alright, I was just showing Junhwan how to copy paste on my producing software,” Bumzu says.

“Who?”

The chair beside Bumzu turns and a young boy Jihoon hadn’t even noticed is sat in the seat Jihoon usually occupies in Bumzu’s studio.

“Hello,” Junhwan says with careful pronunciation, “I’m Junhwan.”

Who is that? Is he a trainee? Jihoon hasn’t seen him around before. He has a really heavy American accent when speaking Korean, so he must be a foreigner. But why would he be in Bumzu’s studio? And why during the time he was supposed to be getting a lesson from the producer?

“Junhwan just moved here to train from America,” Bumzu explains, seeing the questions on Jihoon’s face. “Today is his third day training. He doesn’t speak much Korean, though, but I think he understood everything I taught him today.”

Does Bumzu just take in any trainee who’s interested in learning at producing now? This kid’s feet are dangling a foot off the floor, as if he could write an actual song.

Bumzu’s attention quickly leaves Jihoon as Junhwan starts to scoot off the chair. The man helps him get his feet on the floor.

“Thank you very much,” Junhwan says, bowing.

“You’re very welcome,” Bumzu says, “You’ll come back tomorrow at the same time, right? I can teach you more then.”

“Tomorrow... time?” Junhwan says back.

The longer Junhwan takes with his barely functioning Korean language skills, the less time Jihoon is going to have in his lesson today.

“Same time.”

“Same. So 5 o’clock?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Junhwan walks over to the door and picks his backpack up off the ground. He leaves without looking back, making sure to shut the door securely behind him. Bumzu chuckles fondly.

“He’s a cute kid; I bet people will love him when he debuts,” he muses.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been working on a new track and I wanted to show it to you,” Jihoon dismisses, pulling his laptop out of his backpack and walking over to Bumzu.

Technically, lunch isn’t over yet. However, since Jihoon ate quickly, he can leave twenty minutes early and work in the studio until his vocal lesson at one. He hopes to one day have his own studio, but for now he’ll have to settle for working in Bumzu’s. Not that Bumzu’s studio isn’t nice, he would just like to have his own space.

Jihoon opens the door to his older friend’s studio, expecting it to be empty. Instead, he finds a small, American boy he hasn’t been able to get away from ever since their first encounter last week. It seems everywhere Jihoon turns, Junhwan is there, too. Despite being so young and barely able to speak any Korean, he has impressive vocals and can almost always keep up in lessons and practices with the older trainees.

How he didn’t notice for the first three days Junhwan was in Korea, Jihoon doesn’t know, but the younger boy shares his dorm. He has every other trainee always cooing and fawning over him but he’s yet to do anything to truly prove himself worthy of the attention and praise. Sure, he’s a good singer for an eleven-year-old, but all the vocal trainees are good singers.

On top of that, he always seems to be in the studio at incredibly inconvenient times. Typically, Junhwan’s lessons run a little long since Bumzu is still accounting for the boy’s Korean struggles, which eats into Jihoon’s lesson time. Today, however, is a different encounter.

Bumzu is very particular about who can use his studio when he’s not there. Meaning he only allows Jihoon to work in it without him present, a fact Jihoon is very proud of. Obviously, Bumzu wouldn’t want this literal child playing around in his studio without him.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Jihoon calls sharply.

Junhwan is sat on his knees in one of the desk chairs, shoes off in front of him so as not to dirty the seat. He pushes on the desk to turn and look at who called out to him. His eyes brighten as he sees the older producer-in-training. Jihoon’s eyes stay narrowed at the boy.

“I’m doing... work,” Junhwan explains choppily.

“No,” Jihoon says, “You’re not allowed in here without Bumzu. You don’t mess with other people’s stuff without their permission.”

Junhwan doesn’t look like he understands what Jihoon said. The older boy rolls his eyes. Typical.

“Um, Bumzu hyung let me use the- no- his studio.”

“Yeah, but not when he’s not here. You should leave. Come on, get up.”

Junhwan’s protests fall on deaf ears as Jihoon demands he get out of the chair. The young boy doesn’t have the tenaciousness or the language ability to argue, so he deftly slides out of the seat. He doesn’t have the chance to put his shoes on before Jihoon is ushering him out of the studio, pushing his backpack into his arms before closing the studio door without so much as a goodbye.

Junhwan’s shoulders sag as he stares at the firmly shut door. He pulls his backpack onto his shoulders, slides his feet into his shoes, and walks down the hallway, mood dampened.

Jihoon sighs to himself in the quiet of the room. All of his roommates are fast asleep in their beds, but Jihoon just can’t seem to do the same. For whatever reason, his mind is keeping him awake.

Giving up, Jihoon pulls his blanket off and gets out of bed, headed to the kitchen for a glass of water or something. He stops as he reaches the slightly ajar door, hearing quiet voices from beyond it.

“I don’t think this was a good idea.”

“What?”

“Coming here. I should have just stayed in New York.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jihoon carefully pulls the door open a little further so he can peek out into the living room. Only the small lamp beside the couch is on, keeping Jihoon in darkness while he looks at where Vernon sits with Junhwan on the couch. Despite Jihoon’s disdain for the boy, he feels his heart squeeze as he notices Junhwan is wiping away tears.

“You’re already so talented; think at what you could do once you have proper training.”

“But I don’t have the personality for it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not loud. I’m not funny. I’m not outgoing. I’m awkward and shy and quite and that doesn’t work if I want to be a kpop idol.”

“You don’t have to be loud to be an idol,” Vernon says. “Not every member in a group has to be loud and outgoing. What do you think we keep Seungkwan around for?”

Junhwan laughs but it comes out as more of a disheartened giggle.

“I miss home.”

“I know, buddy.”

“I miss my mom.”

Junhwan starts crying again and Vernon is quick to wrap his arms around the younger American boy.

Jihoon has nowhere near the amount of English capabilities to understand everything that was said, but he knows what “not” and “miss” mean and the amount of times they were said. Given the boy’s age and his place of birth, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he’s doubting himself and is homesick.

Sure, Jihoon knows what it’s like to move away from home. He moved from Busan to Seoul to train when he was fifteen. But Junhwan came from halfway across the world, barely speaks Korean, and is only eleven.

Guilt weighs heavily on Jihoon’s chest as he thinks back on how unfairly he’s treated Junhwan. Even if not directly, he’s resented the kid simply for chasing his dream and doing his best, just like the rest of them. Two weeks into training, and he is already considering giving up.

Jihoon can’t help but feel somewhat responsible for the stress sitting on his shoulders. As he retreats back into bed, he makes a resolution to be better and give Junhwan a chance.

Which was perhaps the best decision Jihoon had ever made.

Not literally, but only a month later and Jihoon can’t imagine how he so quickly judged such a kind boy with such a cute and shy personality. Kim Junhwan is perhaps one of the best people he has ever met.

If Jihoon had bothered to pay attention, he would have been able to see- and appreciate- much sooner how Junhwan’s face lights up anytime he is in the vicinity of the older boy, which is something he is infinitely more proud of than being one of the now two people Bumzu lets use his studio.

Junhwan had heard about Jihoon and how he was working to become a producer while training too, but Jihoon’s decided distaste for the boy deflected any of Junhwan’s attempts to speak with him. Now, Jihoon could revel in Junhwan’s fondness of him indefinitely (read: rub it in Jeonghan’s face that he’s Junhwan’s favorite).

Personality aside, Junhwan is unnecessarily talented in music writing and production for an eleven-year-old.

“Stop being so talented!” Jihoon exclaims, shaking Junhwan’s chair in faux anger.

Junhwan laughs as he’s jostled, Korean skills having come a long way in just a month and a half.

“My bad,” Junhwan apologizes with a laugh.

Jihoon sighs, “And you question why I call you a prodigy.”

“I’m not a prodigy.”

“This isn’t up for debate.”

“But I’m not-“

“Silence, boy.”

Junhwan shuts his mouth with a small smile.

“Seriously, the distorted strings is such a cool effect,” Jihoon continues to praise the younger boy after listening to one of his tracks. “Then the clapping in the pre-chorus and the way it leads up to and just relaxes back into the chorus is so great. I can’t even give you any feedback other than it was spectacular.”

“Thanks, hyung.”

There’s a knock at the door, “Hey, musical geniuses.”

The two look behind them and find Jeonghan standing in the doorway.

“We still have school in the morning; we need to get going.”

“Alright,” Jihoon says, then turns to Junhwan, “Want to show Hannie your track before we leave?”

Junhwan’s eyes widen and he shakes his head furiously no. Jihoon doesn’t know why the boy is so afraid of other people listening to his music; if Bumzu hadn’t peeked into Junhwan’s practice room the first day they met, Jihoon doesn’t think Junhwan ever would have shown anyone it.

“Aw, don’t you want to show hyung your song?” Jeonghan asks.

Junhwan realizes Jeonghan has come over to where he sits, crouched down and sending him an exaggerated pout. Junhwan shrinks in on himself, not wanting to tell the older boy no but also too scared to show him his track.

“That’s alright,” Jeonghan assures him, rubbing his back. “Just save your work so we can get back to the dorm and get to bed.”

Junhwan scooches forward and saves the open file before closing it and ejecting his flash drive from the studio computer. He safely stores the little red and black flash drive in his pocket and runs over to the older two boys where they wait by the door.

Jeonghan helps him put his backpack on and steps out into the hallway. Junhwan turns the studio lights off and shuts the door behind him, walking between Jeonghan and Jihoon on their way to the dorm.

[krsnbgirl]

Timing || Dancer!Kuroo x Dancer!Fem!Reader || One Shot

Summary: Timing with Kuroo was never right. You met him through a studio collaboration and immediately the chemistry between the two of you was undeniable. The catch? He was finding his way in life and you were in a relationship. Now that time’s past and you’re each at different stages in life, will time be on your side? 

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Fem!Reader 

Word Count: ~6k

Warnings: Light swearing, Final stages of moving on, Emotional cheating (?), visual aids for choreography purposes. 

Author’s Note: I’ve really been on a writing spree lately and have been dying to write a Dancer!Kuroo fanfic. I came across an old one-shot I abandoned in my drafts and decided to revamp it and have Kuroo as the main character ^^~ I hope you guys like it! Also currently working on a Kageyama x Reader Series if you’re interested! Let me know what you guys thought of this one shot though, love you guys! xoxo, Ren 

You sighed as you stared blankly at the laptop screen in front of you. You were seated against the headboard of your bed with your legs crossed, just like how you’d sit in grade school. Running a hand through your hair, your eyes were glued on the picture that was enlarged on your Instagram feed. ‘I didn’t think he’d move on that quickly…’

In the picture was your ex-boyfriend standing in front of the entrance of the local amusement park with the new girl he was talking to. A slight heavy feeling came into your chest as you exited the browser and pushed the laptop to the side. You pushed yourself off of the bed and rearranged the sweatshirt you were wearing. Making your way towards your desk, your eyes landed on the cork board that was filled with different Polaroids. A nostalgic smile came upon your face as you sat down in front of your desk and took the photo pinned at the top-right corner into your hands. Your ex had his arm tightly around your waist as you both cheekily smiled at the camera. His head was comfortably resting on yours while you were pinching his cheek. You leaned against your chair as you played with the photo, memories flooding your mind. It was when you reached your one year anniversary with your ex. It happened during your freshman year of university and he decided to take you to the amusement park to relive your childhood memories. Now with your third year of university coming to an end, things were different. You bit your lip as your hand hovered over the trash can that was tucked underneath your desk. The Polaroid hung at the edge of your fingertips as you debated to finally put a closing to your most serious relationship to date. You and your ex had broken up around a year ago on mutual agreements. Going to different colleges and having such hectic schedules took a toll on the both of you. It eventually came down to the point where you had naturally drifted away from each other because of how different your circles and interests were. With a sigh, you turned over the photo to look at the message that was written on a small stationery note taped to its back. 

To the most special girl in the world:

Life always seems more exciting when you’re around. 

We managed to get through a year, so let’s aim for forever, yeah? 

You’re the only person that understands me and gets how I think. 

I love you, princess. - Terushima Yuji 

Terushima was your first serious relationship having been best friends since high school and transitioned into being a couple as you matured into young adults. You were each other’s serious firsts and now that time’s passed, you realized that it was a part of life. One person could be your everything at one point and at some point, one outgrows the other if effort doesn’t come from both sides. In the end, you guys decided to still stay as friends. When the breakup was still fresh, you couldn’t believe it right after it happened. It didn’t actually hit you, but as time passed, the pain started to settle in and eventually you became numb to it. You were so used to having him by your side for so long and it hurt to see him move forward with life as you were just barely getting over him. You thought you’ve been doing fine after so long, but after seeing him post about a new girl, reality finally hit that things were never going to be the same again. An unexplained feeling came over you as you let that kind of realization settle over you. You were thankful that you could still be friends with Terushima, but now there were certain boundaries that you had to respect because he was no longer yours. He had a new girl in his life that he clearly loved and you were still single and finally ready to take the world on again. It was a good run while it lasted and you didn’t regret any moment of it. You felt as if you had come full circle with everything involving your ex. Rather than throwing the Polaroid away, you tucked the photo into the small memory box you kept in your desk. It would serve as a reminder just how much you’ve grown since that moment, plus first loves always had a special place in a person’s heart even after growing out of it. 

“(Y/N)? There’s someone here to see you.” your roommate, Megumi, said as she poked her head into your room just as you closed the drawer of your desk shut.

You cocked your head to the side in curiosity as you got up and followed your best friend into the living room of your shared apartment. 

“But I wasn’t expecting any visitors…” you murmured. 

Megumi shrugged and replied, “I didn’t expect this person to come all the way either.” 

As Megumi stepped out of your way and plopped herself onto the couch, you gasped and quickly walked over to hug the person who was standing by the TV, looking at your photos along the wall.

“Tetsurou!” you happily exclaimed and laughed as he spun you around. 

“Hey, chibi-chan.” he greeted as he set you down and ruffled your hair. 

“I thought you were going to teach a workshop in a studio in Seoul? What are you doing here in Tokyo? The last thing you told me was that you were in Paris.” 

Kuroo smirked and said, “Well I had to cancel Seoul when Oikawa called me to headline one of the workshops for his studio. I couldn’t say no to an old friend, now could I? So....” 

You arched an eyebrow and crossed your arms as he leaned down to meet your gaze. “I need someone to help me teach the piece I was planning on doing today. So, why not the person who co-choreographed it? 

You couldn’t stop yourself from excitedly jumping and grabbing his arm. “You still remember that piece when our studios trained together?” 

The latter nodded and straightened up, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Of course, chibi-chan. It’s one of my favorite pieces that I’ve ever choreographed to.” 

With an amused smile, you nudged him in the stomach. “You’re such a dork.” 

Kuroo chuckled and turned you around by your shoulders, pushing you towards your room. “Well what are you waiting for, slow poke? Go and get ready! We have about two hours to get it down before Oikawa starts to sass us!” 

A warm feeling spread throughout your chest as you rushed into your room to put on something more suitable to dance in. You rummaged through your closet and slipped on an over-sized graphic T-shirt with a pair of black biker shorts.. Quickly, you threw your necessities into your duffel bag and exited your room. Kuroo and Megumi were catching up as you made a pit stop in the kitchen to grab water for you two. 

“Alrighty, I’m set!” you smiled and tossed Kuroo his water as you made your way towards the shoe rack by the door. 

As you guys slipped on your shoes, Kuroo pointed towards the shoes you were wearing and laughed. 

“You were always the sneakerhead, huh?” 

You playfully winked as you straightened up from retying the laces of your latest pair that you copped as a special little treat for yourself. “I got them recently after getting paid from my last dance gig. I got a hefty sum from it, so I decided that it was finally time to drop a little more than usual.” 

Kuroo smiled to himself despite rolling his eyes at your statement. He opened the door for you and the two of you exited your apartment. Once you reached the lobby, you greeted the doorman as you made your way towards the spot where Kuroo parked. You smiled widely when Kuroo stopped by a slick, black sports motorcycle. Letting out a low whistle, you admired the vehicle as you slowly circled around it. 

“And you finally got a motorcycle license. This is a total beauty, Kuroo. I’ve been waiting to get on this type of baby for a while.” 

Kuroo laughed and tossed you the extra helmet he had in his storage compartment. “Just like you said, we gotta spoil ourselves once in a while right? Now c’mon get on.” 

You waited for Kuroo to get settled first before getting on the back seat of his bike. An excited squeal escaped your lips as he revved up the engine. He slid down his visor before turning around to slip yours down as well. You bit your lip as he smirked at you before turning his attention towards the oncoming traffic. 

“Better hold on tight.” 

Shaking your head at him, you comfortable wrapped your arms around his waist as he began to take you guys to the studio. You smiled widely as you watched the city speed past you, a lively feeling spreading throughout your body. Ever since the breakup happened, you managed to keep yourself busy in order to take your mind off things. Though you were constantly picking up dance gigs and doing other side jobs or even simply cleaning up the apartment, there was always this empty feeling inside of you. But now that Kuroo was back and with you, it felt as if he helped you break the chains you locked yourself up with. Looking up at the bright sky, you breathed in the fresh air and enjoyed how the wind surrounded you. You felt alive. You felt free and genuinely happy for once. The world now looked brighter and you were happy that Kuroo was able to bring that out of you. Tightening your grip around his waist, you mentally thanked the heavens for bringing him back to you. 

----

As you  monitored the class while Kuroo taught the combination of the piece, you smiled to yourself as you listened to his dorky references. He managed to squeeze in a couple of science puns and you bemusedly shook your head as the whole class laughed, but also understood what he was trying to get at. You held in your breath as you went towards the front of the class to take over his spot so he could also monitor everyone’s progress with the choreography. He gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder because of the unexpected variable that was added into your guys’ equation. 

Once people started filing in for your class. Terushima and his new girl were part of the last few that trickled into the full class.  He managed to catch you as you walked back in after taking a look at the roster and you were shocked to see them there. While Kuroo was trying to pick music for everyone to stretch to, Terushima walked up to you and introduced you to her. Apparently, she was also a dancer and wanted to take Kuroo’s class. When you met eyes with him, you couldn’t help but smile back at him once he gave you a small smile. The pain that you used to feel wasn’t there anymore and you realized that you really did move on just like he did. Turning your attention back towards the mirror, you met Kuroo’s gaze through your reflection and he gave you a nod of encouragement. You let out a deep breath before gathering everyone’s attention to continue where he left off to finish the piece. 

Going over the last eight count, Kuroo ended up joining her in the front to teach together and they finished the workshop. You grooved to the music and let it take control of you as Kuroo danced beside you. When you heard the students having a fun time, you couldn’t help but laugh and smile. Everyone was grooving along with each other because it gave off that happy-go-lucky vibe that anyone could freestyle to. You didn’t even notice Terushima and his new girl as you surround yourself with other dancers. Kuroo would also try to divert your attention away from Terushima if he noticed your eyes wandering. It was hard to kill off old habits and you were glad that Kuroo was there to help you. 

It was finally time for you and Kuroo to watch the students do it in groups without your guidance after splitting it in half. You leaned against the mirror as Kuroo did the routine full out while they were marking** it. The way that he moved was something that you admired a lot about him. He was always able to sit in the pocket and fully complete his moves despite his tall stature. You smiled to yourself as you watched the students’ expressions as he walked away and stood next to you. Shouting some encouraging words to them, you smiled at the students before restarting the music for them. As the entire class watched the first group, you leaned against the speaker and Kuroo nudged your arm. You gave him a questioning look and he nodded towards the back corner of the room. **(Marking a piece means going over the choreography with half the energy to really go over whatever a dancer is struggling with. It also helps figure out the right timing for certain moves.)

“You hanging in there?” he asked as you both watched Terushima hand the girl a towel to wipe off the sweat. 

You shrugged, not really knowing how to answer. “I mean I didn’t really feel sad when I saw them in the beginning. But it’s just weird to see him in person, y’know?” 

Kuroo chuckled and ruffled your hair as he noticed your eyebrows scrunch up and a small pout on your lips, continuing to listen to your small rant. “I tried not to really pay attention, but it’s hard when they’re showing excessive public displays of affection. God, were we that bad when we were together? And he just so happens to be dating another dancer, make it make sense.” 

“There, there. Do you think he’s just trying to fill up that empty void since the both of you guys broke up?” 

You grunted as you pushed yourself off of the speaker and said, “I don’t know... Honestly as long as he’s happy, then I guess I’ll be fine.” 

“That’s my girl.” he praised and slung his arm over your shoulders.

You huffed and flicked his temple. He groaned and said, “Damn, I forgot how strong you could be sometimes.” 

You two laughed as everyone clapped for the first group. As the second group filled the floor, you made your way to the front to do it while they marked it. You mentally groaned seeing that said ex and new girl were in your group. Your expression deadpanned and you looked in the mirror to see Kuroo hunched over his phone, trying to contain his laughter. Sighing, you shook away any last negative thought and looked at Kuroo once more. Although still laughing at your luck, his attention was on you and gave you a reassuring smile. ‘You got this, chibi-chan. Ignore them and dance for yourself,’ he mouthed as the music started. Listening to his advice, you ignored everyone around you once more and just danced to your heart’s extent.

There was a reason why the both of you decided to make choreography to this song when you guys were originally assigned as partners. When you sat down together to come up with an idea, you guys were equally going through a rough time. Kuroo was kicked out of his house for choosing dance over his family’s business while you and Terushima were constantly fighting. On your first night of practice, you ended up having a heart to heart with Kuroo. The both of you unintentionally opened up to each other because dance is being vulnerable with yourself physically and emotionally. After spilling out all of your emotions, you guys decided that you simply wanted to be happy. Dance was an escape for you and Kuroo. Kuroo shared the same passion and love you had for dance because you both related over how dancing helps release the day to day stress that piled up. It was just better to live in that moment of dancing all of your emotions out. When it was time to do it for the showcase, the both of you not only had the fastest combination, but your piece’s intentions really showed through the moves and expressions that were displayed on that stage. It was in that moment where you and Kuroo wanted to show the world what dance meant to each other. The song, the moves, and the meaning behind it shared their untold stories. You smiled widely as you watched yourself in the mirror and did the footwork with ease. Adding your own style and facials into it, you felt yourself letting go of everything that was hanging over your head for so long. After being reminded of the origins of the piece you taught with Kuroo, you didn’t care if you were going all in on it while the other dancers were marking it. Dancing with Kuroo by your side was the most you’ve felt alive in the longest time and you weren’t going to let this small moment of yours go to waste. 

You smiled breathlessly as you ran back to Kuroo once the piece was over and it was time to watch the dancers once more. He handed you your towel and bottled water before patting you on the shoulder. 

“You were amazing, cutie. I haven’t seen you dance like that in forever. You spark’s come back.” 

Gulping down the water, you shrugged before giving him a bright smile. You tossed your bottle on the top of your bag and tiredly leaned against him. “I guess I just needed something to help let myself go.” 

He adjusted his position so you could comfortably lean your head against his shoulder and you guys continued to watch the class. 

“Let yourself go or to finally get some closure?” Kuroo asked. 

“Both I guess…” You murmured as you found yourself smiling at Terushima and his girl dance to your and Kuroo’s choreography. 

“I’m assuming tonight was something that really helped you then, huh?” 

You nodded as everyone clapped for each other. Kuroo warmly gazed down at you and squeezed your cheek. “Then I’m happy that you’re happy.” 

He walked off to let everyone get some water and you sighed, feeling grateful to have Kuroo in your life. Ever since he walked into your life, Kuroo always knew what to say when you came to him for advice. He was always willing to listen and be upfront with you if you were being stupid. Without knowing, Kuroo slowly became your best friend because of your shared love of dance and constant meetings for this piece. When he walked back to your shared corner, you couldn’t stop yourself before pulling him into a hug. 

“I know I say this a lot, but...just...thanks for everything.” you murmured. 

He set his head on top of yours and tightly hugged you back. “I’m always here for you, beautiful.” 

You laughed and slightly pulled back to lightly smack his chest. “Oh stop it with these pet names, you dork.” 

He let go of you as you told everyone to move to the front of the room. His focus changed towards his phone as he set up the music, a small smirk on his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, chibi-chan. You’re cute and beautiful. I’m simply stating the truth.” 

Kuroo only ever jokingly teased you, but seeing how he was being sincere with that compliment, you felt the heat creep up into your cheeks. Coughing to hide your blush, you rolled your eyes at him. “Ha, you’re so funny. Now c’mon, they’re expecting us to do it for them.” 

He chuckled and let the music play as he grabbed your hand. You shook your head at him as you bit your lip, letting him lead you to the middle of the studio. As the both of you danced, the world around you two disappeared. It was just you and Kuroo, looking at the mirror and dancing the routine. You could feel Kuroo’s energy right next to you as you danced and interacted with each other. It brought back memories of your late night to early morning practices. Getting to dance with him once more brought back all of the jokes and heart to hearts that were exchanged during your shared bubble tea and food runs before or after rehearsals. All in all, you were starting to get the old butterflies you chose to ignore when you first met Kuroo. 

When your attention came back to the present, you and Kuroo had finally finished the routine. Falling to the floor, everyone threw their shoes** at the both of you and you guys couldn’t help but laugh. All you felt was bliss as you laid on your back and Kuroo sat up, setting his elbows on top of his knees while you caught your breath. You looked up and smiled at Kuroo. It kind of surprised you how quick these old feelings quickly resurfaced and decided to just go with the flow. Throughout the night, Kuroo had been calling you different types of pet names and showed excessive skinship. You weren’t mad at it, but you were still unsure if he was implying something or being his regular affectionate self. **(Shoes being thrown at the choreographer or dancer doing the choreography is a sign of respect and admiration for killing the piece)

Everyone in the room began to chant for the both of you to do an encore since it was the end of the class. You groaned and Kuroo stood up, offering his hand for you to take. He easily hoisted you up and said, “You know we can’t keep the crowd waiting, right?” 

You rubbed your forehead, trying to think up another piece you could do together, but over the past two years you collaborated with Kuroo multiple times. There was so much choreography that you guys shared and you puffed out your cheeks since the class wouldn’t let up with their chanting. 

“What else is there?” 

Kuroo gave you a mischievous smile before heading towards the stereo. He turned towards you, walking backwards and said, “Put your sweater on or else you’ll get cold.” 

It didn’t register in your mind right away to what he implied as everyone quieted down. Everyone watched in anticipation as Kuroo scrolled through his phone for the specific song. Nevertheless, you followed his instructions and put on the sweater that you brought to wear after class ended. As the soft melody filled the air, you gasped and snapped your head towards Kuroo who was putting his sweater on as well. He smiled at you and walked up to you as you guys got into place. He nodded at the student he asked to press play for you guys to mark it and the both of you began to effortlessly move together. 

This piece was made when the strong emotions you felt for each other was at its peak and your studio directors requested that you and Kuroo collaborated once more to represent your studios at a prefecture competition. The theme of it was ironically love and in the short time period given to you and Kuroo, the choreographed piece was what you two used to speak about your unspoken feelings for each other. You smiled to yourself as you continued to mark the piece since it was a bit on the lengthier side. It was honestly one of your favorite pieces of choreography ever and your mind flashed back to how it came to be. 

“(Y/N), what do you think we should do this time?” Kuroo asked as you guys sat on the floor of one of the many rooms your studio provided. 

You shrugged and sighed as you laid on your back with your legs stretched out. “I don’t know, Tetsu...it’s up to you.” 

Kuroo looked at you as you curled onto your side and focused on your phone. Pursing his lips, he turned his attention towards you and set his phone to the side. 

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?” 

You felt him tap your shoulder and looked behind you to meet his gaze. He gave you a look and you caved in to tell him what was bothering you. Sitting up, you curled your legs into your chest and set your chin on top of your knees. 

“I didn’t want to bother you...but I feel like Yuji and I will never bounce back after this break that he wanted… As much as I try to still check up on him, he’s grown so distant that I don’t recognize his new behavior sometimes...Do you think there’s another girl? I just don’t know what to do anymore, Tetsu… I just- I just don’t want to be in the dark anymore. Aren’t we supposed to get through everything together? I don’t get it, is it me? Who am I kidding? There is another girl, I saw him flirting with her after his class in their classroom.” 

“Don’t you say that ever again, (Y/N).” 

You blinked as he quickly cupped your face to stare into your empty eyes. He could see the unshed tears in your eyes and it pained him to see you so broken. Kuroo hated seeing you constantly being hurt by Terushima. He didn’t expect to fall in love with you in a span of three months of dancing together, but he did. The way you were able to welcome him so warmly and easily understood what he struggled with, Kuroo found himself falling hard. Whenever he danced with you and interacted with you, there was this unspoken connection that he’s never felt with anyone before. After the first showcase ended, you guys stayed in touch and had a weekly tradition of hanging out at each other’s apartments. When he was overseas, he missed the hell out of you and when you would cry over the petty little arguments with Terushima, Kuroo wished he had a plane ticket to go back to you. 

“You are more than enough, chibi-chan.” he reassured you and pushed some stray hairs out of your face. “Terushima lost sight of the beauty he has by his side and it’s his loss if it ever came down to it. Hell, I’ll immediately take you from him if you’d let me. That girl doesn’t compare to you, at all.”

You smiled weakly knowing the weight that was carried in his words. Leaning into his touch, you sighed and he caressed your cheek. “You know I would do anything to take the pain away from you, (Y/N).” 

You tightened the grip that you had around his wrist and he leaned his forehead against yours. The feelings that grew for Kuroo was something you stopped denying a while ago, but still a part of you couldn’t let go of Terushima because of how long you guys knew each other and that you were still in a relationship with him. It confused you because when you were with Terushima, you knew you wanted to be with him. But at the same time, it felt the same whenever you were with Kuroo. A part of you wished that you had met Kuroo first because he gave you the solace and warmth you’ve been seeking for. Your rationality spoke to you as you slowly pulled away, a sad smile on your lips. 

“I know you would, Tetsu...But due to the circumstances right now...you know I can’t. We can’t.” 

Kuroo felt you slipping away from him and decided it was time to be selfish for a bit. He didn’t want to let you go and wrapped his arms around, burying his face into your neck. 

“Please...let’s just be selfish this one time. If he gets to flirt with all the girls he wants on this so called ‘break’ between you two, can’t I have chance? Just until this showcase is over. I just want to show you how much you mean to me and how you are worth the entire world.” 

He looked up at you and without thinking, you cupped his cheek and Kuroo sighed into your warm touch. 

“Use me if you’d like, I don’t care. You know how I feel about you and I just hate seeing you hurt so much.” 

“Tetsu…” you murmured and he noticed the hesitation. 

He gave you a small smile before pecking the inside of your wrist. You watched as he stood up and walked over to the speaker then plugged in his phone. The faint sound of the piano filled the air as he made his way back to you and gently helped you to your feet. Kuroo smiled down at you and started to freestyle around you. It was the best way you guys could be vulnerable with each other when the words couldn’t come out. You hugged your arms to your chest as you watched him. His touch ghosted over your body and you bit your lip as he stood behind you. 

“For now, just forget about everything and dance with me.” 

In that small room, you gave in to the feelings that you tried so hard to suppress. Closing your eyes, you let your body naturally move against his as you danced along to the music. The song spoke out to you because the singers were doing the talking for you both. As you danced with Kuroo, your eyes never left each other the entire time. Interchanging moves and interacting through your eyes and body movements made you feel complete. Kuroo had managed to easily break down your walls and you smiled at him as he grabbed your hand, guiding you across the floor as you did a series of chaine turns*. As the song ended, you landed into his embrace and he lovingly smiled at you. You smiled back at him and he set his head on top of yours. 

“I think we just found the song that we’re going to use for the showcase, right chibi-chan?” he said as he tried to catch his breath. 

You nodded and in that moment, the both of you came into the silent agreement that you’d be selfish for the next two weeks. While preparing for the showcase, you met up with Kuroo every day to practice and improve your choreography to be the best that it could be. That was when Kuroo’s affectionate side really came into play. He shamelessly flirted with you and the skinship he’d do with you was nonstop. Kuroo took advantage of the small chance you gave him and never wasted a moment. He respected the boundaries you put up and when allowed, Kuroo would only kiss you on the cheek or forehead.

When the showcase ended, the two of you stood on the roof of your apartment. You admired the view and he wrapped his arms around your waist. The air around you guys was heavy as you silently leaned against his embrace. 

“So this is it, huh?” he asked softly as he inhaled the comforting scent of your shampoo, tightening his grip around you. 

You nodded silently and turned around, resting your hands on his chest. A solemn expression could be seen on your face, not wanting to make a move just yet. Kuroo kissed your forehead and you relished in the comforting feeling he gave you. 

“I wish I met you first.” you mumbled as you buried your face into the nape of his neck. 

“I know.” 

“I’m sorry…” 

“I know.” 

“You know that I li-”

“I know.” 

Kuroo cupped your face and gave you a small smile. It didn’t quite reach his face and you bit your lip as you felt your eyes water. 

“I just can’t let go....” your voice trembled.

“I know.” 

“You deserve better.” 

“I’m willing to wait.” he simply said and leaned his forehead against yours. 

“Why?” you whispered as you both closed your eyes, soaking as much of each other as you could. 

“You’re worth every moment.” 

It was quiet for a couple of moments and once you felt like you were ready, you stepped out of his embrace. He ran his hand through his hair and stepped back as well, admiring the beautiful features of your face. 

“I’ll see you whenever, chibi-chan.” he muttered as he felt his heart clench at the fact you wouldn’t be the first thing he saw in the morning. 

“See you...Tetsu…” 

You were brought back to reality as you ended the mark with his hands in your sweater and the class screamed for you guys to do it full out. He met your gaze and asked, “Are you ready, beautiful?” 

As you got back into position to do the choreography, you nodded and the air around the two of you changed. There was no hesitation between you two as you spoke your unspoken feelings towards each other. Overall you felt the lightest you’ve ever been as your gazes never left each other. It was just like you guys danced it the first time, but this time nothing was holding you two back. You danced with your heart and Kuroo could feel the familiar warmth and radiance he missed from you. As you stood in front of each other, dancing out the lyrics of the song with the movements of your hands, you talked to each other through your gazes and the music. 

One love, two mouths One love, one house No shirt, no blouse Just us, you find out Nothing that wouldn’t wanna tell you about, no

When the music picked up, Kuroo led the dance and you can feel how much you missed his presence. His touch burned against you as you finished up the routine. The world disappeared around you two as you felt him grip your hands in the pockets of your sweater. He leaned his forehead against yours and you were both breathlessly smiling at each other. 

“Woah…” he said as he slowly stood up straight. 

You squeezed his hands before they left your pockets and bit your lip. “Woah, indeed.” 

You laughed as he dorkily bowed at the class and motioned their attention towards you. As they cheered for you, you shook your head with the brightest smile never leaving your face. He took your hand into his once he walked up to you and you guys bowed to the class, saying your thanks. It was time for the students to do the choreography you taught one last time and the two of you walked off to watch them. Once in your corner once more, you didn’t hesitate to lean yourself against him and he slung his arm over your shoulders. His head rested on your shoulder as you watched the class through the mirror. 

“So...what was that?” you murmured.

“I don’t know, chibi-chan. You tell me.” he responded. 

You turned your head to look at him, your cheeks blushing. “Oh you most definitely know, Tetsu.” 

“Hm? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he said as he nuzzled your cheek with his nose. 

“I’m ready.” you softly said.

“I know.” 

“That was fun.” 

“I know.” 

“I missed you.” 

“I know.” 

“You’ve been such a tease this whole day.” 

“I know.” 

“You already knew, huh?” 

“Maybe~” he replied in a sing-song tone. 

You hummed in thought and turned your attention towards the class once more. 

“Hey, (Y/N)?” 

Your eyes widened as you felt him lighty kiss your lips before quickly pulling away. It was short and sweet, but had such a big impact on you. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach and your heart raced as he kissed your cheek before walking away to join the freestyle circle that happened at the end of the routine. You laughed in disbelief as you felt your cheeks burn. He walked backwards as he reached the edge of the group and winked at you, holding out his hand for you to join his side. 

You took a deep breath and smiled to yourself. It was time for you to move on from your past and dancing with Kuroo helped you realize that. You were finally happy with where you were at and slipped your hand into his as the class made way for you two to be the center of attention once more. 

The timing was finally right for you and Kuroo to fully love each other.