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fangirlwriting-stories · 1 year ago

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Game Night

Summary: No One Knows AU Part 13, Jazz decides to make things better in the best way she can think of.

...

So Danny fought Vlad without her, and Jazz is a little annoyed by it. Sure, things have been a little awkward between them lately, but she knows for a fact that she never gave the impression that she’s done helping her brother. She’ll never be done helping her brother. When did she have to start trying to prove that?

Well, whatever. Either way, she’s not letting Danny do this alone. And if he’s not letting her help with fights and he’s not letting her help with his friends who are being real jerks, that leaves one area left Jazz can reasonably put some effort into.

“Hey, Mom? Dad?”

Mom turns from the invention she’s tinkering with and gives Jazz a smile. “Hi, sweetie! Did you just get home? How was school?”

Jazz nods in response to her question, then says, “School was good. I was wondering if I could talk to you and Dad about something?”

“Sure Princess, what’s going on?” Dad says, moving over to stand next to Mom.

Jazz takes a breath, readying herself for how little Danny’s probably going to like this.

“Do you think we could start having a family game night?” she asks.

Both of her parents look surprised and a little caught off guard, and Jazz can’t blame them. Her request probably sounds like it comes out of nowhere. If Danny were here, he’d probably be staring at her like she’s crazy too.

“A family game night?” Mom asks, sounding confused but not against the idea, which is a good start.

“I’ve just noticed we’re all super busy most of the time,” Jazz says, keeping her tone casual. “You guys are ghost hunting or working here in the lab, Danny and I have school and homework, we just haven’t seen much of each other recently. I thought it would be nice to have something consistent we can all look forward to doing together.”

Mom brightens, and Jazz knows she’s succeeded.

“Oh sweetie, that’s a wonderful idea,” she says. “Did you have a night in mind?”

“I was thinking Fridays,” Jazz says. “That way Danny and I won’t have to worry about any homework right away, and it’ll be right before the weekend for you guys too.” And Danny can stay up as late as he needs to for ghost fighting and sleep in the next day, Jazz adds on in her head.

“That sounds like a great plan Jazzo,” Dad calls happily.

“Do you want to pick out some games tomorrow?” Mom asks. “I don’t know if we have many in the house.”

“I’ll pick some up after school,” Jazz says. “I have a few ideas.”

“Thanks sweetie, that would be lovely. I’m looking forward to it,” Mom says with a bright smile, and Jazz gives one back before heading back out of the lab and letting them get back to worth.

She glances at the oven clock in the kitchen as she passes and notes that she still has a couple hours before Danny comes home. He apparently missed Nasty Burger with his friends yesterday, so they’re making it up today. Jazz hasn’t had a chance to ask him what happened yet, but he seemed happier when he got home from school, so she can’t really object.

For now, she heads up to her room to do her homework as she runs over the plan again in her mind. It’s not a short one, and it’s probably not going to run totally smoothly. Especially if she doesn’t get a chance to talk to Danny about it first.

But she can do that either while they’re out patrolling tonight or in the car ride tomorrow, depending on how busy it is. Figuring out when to do it is the easy part. The hard part’s going to be convincing him.

…

“What? No way,” Danny says, predictably. He turns to look at her from his seat. “Are you crazy?”

“It can’t go that badly,” Jazz says, giving him a quick glance before refocusing her attention on the road.

“Jazz. Seriously. Did you decide to tempt the fates today? ‘It can’t go that badly?’ What are you talking about? Of course it can go badly!”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jazz says. “I mean there’s a limit to how bad it can go when we’re doing all the talking to them without you going ghost. Without bringing Phantom into it at all.”

“Oh, so instead of hearing them talk about how they want to dissect me specifically, I can hear them talk about how they want to dissect ghosts in general! That’s so much better!”

Jazz doesn’t say anything for a second. Danny seems to get that she’s not done, though, and after a second he turns to her. “What?”

“It’s not… fair,” Jazz says slowly. “But I think it’s pretty clear at this point that they’re not going to change their minds on their own. We’ve got to bring it up first. Even if it’s uncomfortable.”

“And we have to do this now, why?”

Jazz doesn’t say anything again. She’s pretty sure he’s not going to take “I want at least one part of your life to be not terrible” as an answer.

“You should really try it,” she says instead. “I’ll do most of the talking. Just give it a shot.”

She can feel Danny glare at her, even if she doesn’t look away from the road. “Well considering you pitched it as a family bonding activity, I doubt Mom’s going to let me get out of it on pain of death, so I’m going to have to, aren’t I?”

Jazz sighs. “I really think it’s a good idea,” she says.

“Oh, well, as long as you think so,” Danny says, turning to glare out the window. He goes on to not say anything to her for the rest of the drive, and gets out of the car and heads immediately for the school as soon as Jazz stops and pulls into a spot in the parking lot.

Jazz sighs and turns the car off, then climbs out to head into school.

…

Danny seems a little less irritated by the idea on the drive home that afternoon, but Jazz can’t tell if that’s because she hasn’t brought it up yet, and she’d rather not tempt fate. So instead, she asks if he has plans for the weekend now that he’s not grounded anymore. And this is when Danny throws her a curveball.

“Actually, yeah,” he says. “I’m going to the park with Valerie Gray.”

Jazz gives him a quick surprised glance before turning back to the road. “Valerie Gray?” she asks. The park part of that plan is more than a little confusing too, but less confusing than who he’s doing it with. She hadn’t thought the two of them were even the tiniest bit aware of each other, aside from that time Danny accidentally ruined Valerie’s life. (Which he still hasn’t let go of, to Jazz’s annoyance.)

“Yeah,” Danny says. “We ran into each other totally by accident yesterday after the fight with Vlad, and then we just kind of… hung out together, by accident mostly. But it was fun, so we’re doing it again.”

Jazz smiles. So that’s what he did instead of the park.

“That’s great,” she says, keeping her gaze on the road but making sure Danny can see her smile. “I didn’t realize that’s what you did instead of Nasty Burger.”

But then Danny goes quiet again, and Jazz knows she’s said the wrong thing.

“That’s not what I meant,” she says. “I just meant, I’m glad to see you’re having fun with someone.”

Danny sighs. “I know what you meant,” he mutters, and at least he doesn’t sound angry.

Jazz sighs and doesn’t say anything else.

Being this direct with Danny would definitely be a bad idea, but Sam and Tucker are pissing her off. They don’t have to like Phantom, that’s fine. (Mostly. Not at all. It’s not fine, but that’s not the point.) From what little Danny says about Sam and Tucker these days, it seems to be all they talk about now. And Jazz can tell it’s getting to her little brother.

Because of course it is. His closest friends spend all of their time together angrily ranting about how much Danny sucks, of course it’s getting to him.

If it wouldn’t just make things much worse, Jazz would give the two a giant sister-sized smack upside the head.

Danny doesn’t say anything else until they arrive at home, and Jazz doesn’t try and fill the silence. But for as much she doesn’t want him to constantly be thinking about Game Night, she doesn’t want him to forget it either. So as they both walk into the house and Danny starts for the stairs, Jazz weighs her options, then calls out, “Don’t forget we’re having our first game night after dinner!”

Danny shoots her a glare, but it’s a little less angry than the ones she got this morning, so Jazz counts it as a win and heads over to look through the board game selection she picked up yesterday.

She’ll save the chessboard for her and Mom, as she doesn’t imagine Danny or Dad would take to it as well as the two of them would. Danny and Dad would definitely like Battleships more than them, but it’s a two person game anyway, so she sets that aside too. The games she bought that would work for four people are Uno, Sorry, and Yahtzee, and out of the three, the last one sounds like the one it’ll be easiest to have a conversation over. So she sets the other two aside as backups and sets up Yahtzee on the coffee table.

Then she heads upstairs to finish her homework, knowing she has an hour or so before Mom will call her and Danny down for dinner.

She doesn’t need much time to finish her homework, but she’s already settled on a game plan, leaving her with not much to do for several hours. So, even though she definitely won’t need them tonight, she starts piling through the evidence she’s been collecting on the consciousness and psychology of ghosts.

It’s slow going, especially considering most ghosts aren’t exactly the type to stop and chat about how their brains work, but Jazz is getting somewhere. She’s seen enough from Danny to thoroughly discard the “ghosts are malicious monsters who somehow also have no consciousness and can’t feel pain” theories that her parents have been working under. But she doesn’t have much in regards to an alternative theory, especially in scientific ways. She’ll get laughed out of the room by her parents if she shows them what she has to disprove their theory with no idea what’s actually happening.

But she doesn’t want to start asking invasive questions to Danny about how his brain works. He has enough going on.

So, she’ll move slowly. Let her parents discover the flaws in the theory themselves.

Hopefully.

“Jazz, Danny, dinner’s ready!” Mom calls up the stairs, and Jazz drops her notebook, startled.

“Yep, be right there Mom!” she calls back. She pulls open her desk drawer, jimmies up the fake bottom, and slips her notebook inside it, then heads out and towards the steps.

Danny’s leaving his room the same time she is, and he gives Jazz one last glare but follows her down the stairs.

Mom is setting stove-grilled burgers out on the table, and miracle of miracles, none of them are glowing green this time. After that she goes back to get cups with ice water, and Dad is setting silverware by everyone’s place for the slightly burnt potatoes that were cooked with the burgers. It looks like a surprisingly appetizing dinner, and Jazz can tell Danny thinks so too as he sits down next to her.

“I thought I should make something a little fancy for tonight to celebrate our first game night!” Mom says in explanation as she sits down at her place with the last cup. “Thanks for the great idea, Jazz!”

Jazz gives a smile that hopefully doesn’t come off as nervous. She told Danny she’ll do most of the talking, and she will, but that doesn’t mean she’s not nervous about it.

“Thanks Mom,” she says. “It’ll be nice to have something to look forward to at the end of the week.”

“I think so too Jazzercise,” Dad says with a grin at her. “Though I still think a family ghost hunt would have been more fun.”

“No,” Jazz and Danny both say at the same time.

“The kids are right dear,” Mom says, patting him on the shoulder. “We shouldn’t bring work into fun times with them, even if work is fun.”

“Exactly, a good work life balance is very important,” Jazz says, gripping her hands together tightly under the table. “But actually, on the subject of ghosts—”

She ignores Danny’s not-so-subtle glare at her as both of her parents turn to her.

“You guys were in that fight downtown last night, right?” Jazz asks. “With that dog ghost?”

“That was us, sweetie, thanks for noticing!” Mom says. “But luckily it didn’t hurt anyone. Calmed right down once Phantom showed up. But we’ll have to keep an eye out, who knows what he’s planning on making it do—”

“Yeah that’s great Mom,” Jazz cuts her off, before she can start going off on a tangent about Phantom’s evil plans. “But why didn’t it hurt anyone, do you think?”

Jazz sees Danny roll his eyes in her peripheral, and ignores him again.

“Oh I haven’t the slightest idea sweetheart,” Mom says. “But ghosts don’t think logically like you and me. It could be anything really.”

“Yeah, as long as we manage to capture it, who cares what it’s thinking?” Dad says, taking off half of his burger with a bite.

Jazz sighs. “But don’t you think—” she starts, and is interrupted by Danny pushing back from the table and muttering something about suddenly not feeling well.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” Mom calls after him.

“Fine!” Danny snaps, which is when Jazz knows she shouldn’t follow him just yet.

Instead, she turns back to Mom and Dad as soon as he’s vanished up the stairs. “I think it wasn’t hurting people because it’s a dog,” she says plainly. “A well trained one. And it didn’t want to.”

“That’s a nice thought, Princess,” Dad says. “But it’s still a ghost. It’s dangerous.”

“So are normal dogs under the right circumstances,” Jazz says firmly. “And didn’t you say it calmed down once Phantom showed up? The same way a dog might if it saw its owner?”

“It’s still different from a human and a normal dog, sweetie,” Mom says. “But I can see why you’d think that.”

“Can you think about it then?” Jazz asks. “If you see where I’m coming from? Can you consider it?”

Mom sighs, seeming a mix of amused and exasperated. But then she says, “Alright sweetie, I’ll give it some thought. But I still think you’re looking at this wrong.”

Jazz nods anyway. Honestly, that’s probably about the best she could have expected. “Thank you,” she says.

The rest of dinner is more lighthearted, and they talk about more basic stuff. Jazz mentions the math test she aced last week, and Dad gives her a beaming smile and ruffles her hair just enough to be annoying. Mom mentions the new invention she’s working on, and Jazz listens to the science while also making mental notes of any way it could hurt Danny. The food is actually edible and surprisingly good for once, so Jazz can enjoy it.

But as the dinner starts to wrap up, Mom mentions that Danny still hasn’t come down, and stands up with a mention that she’ll go find him.

“I got him Mom!” Jazz calls. She hops up immediately and heads off towards the stairs before Mom can protest.

She knocks on Danny’s door and calls out his name so he’ll know it’s her. She waits a couple seconds, and Danny jerks the door open, though he doesn’t exactly look thrilled to see her.

He grabs her arm and pulls her inside, then slams the door shut behind them.

“Happy now?” he hisses, turning to face her. And for all that he’s keeping his voice down, it does nothing to hide how angry he is. “Are you satisfied? Do you get yet that no one’s ever going to change their mind?”

“They said they’d think about it,” Jazz points out.

Danny blinks, seeming surprised for a second, then narrows his eyes. “Because they see your point or because they’re humoring you?”

Jazz doesn’t say anything, and Danny rolls his eyes. “That’s what I thought.”

“Danny, they’re not going to start by immediately accepting that they’re wrong,” Jazz says. “That’s not how people change their minds. Especially with things they believe in as strongly as our parents believe this stuff about ghosts.”

“Oh well that’s great, because I totally have the time and energy to put towards changing their minds slowly!” Danny snaps, before pausing and lowering his voice again. “Let me just take a break from all the ghost fighting and homework I’m constantly drowning in and best friends who hate me and new Huntress sidekicks who want to kill me! I’m sure I’ve got plenty of time in between all that!”

Jazz blinks, caught off guard. “New Huntress sidekicks? When did that happen?”

“That’s not the point,” Danny snaps. “Look, Mom and Dad are so far down on my list of priorities right now it’s ridiculous. And I would love to not have to also deal with them bad mouthing Phantom even more than they already do! I get enough of that from Sam and Tucker!”

Jazz sighs. “Okay,” she agrees. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

Danny blinks. “Huh?”

“You’re right, it’s not fair for you to have to deal with it. I’ll talk to them on my own.”

Danny groans and drops his head into his hands. “Ugh, no! That’s not— I don’t want you to bother at all, Jazz! It could just as easily make things worse!”

“It could also make things better,” Jazz says. “I know what I’m doing, Danny. I know how to talk to Mom and Dad.”

Danny scoffs and glares away, muttering something that sounds like “Why do I even bother.”

“Come on, no more ghost talk tonight. Let’s go play a board game.”

Danny looks up at her incredulously. “You were serious about that?”

“Yes,” Jazz says. “It’s important for you to have some time where you can just relax and do things you enjoy.”

“Stop therapizing me,” Danny says.

“Good luck with that,” Jazz says plainly, and Danny groans.

“You gonna come play games with us?” Jazz asks. “I actually think Mom and Dad are looking forward to it. And I’m sure they’ll let you finish your dinner first.”

Danny glares at her, then mutters, “Fine. But no ghosts, I mean it.”

“No ghosts,” Jazz agrees, holding up her hand. “I swear.”

Danny sighs, sounding irritated and exhausted, but when Jazz heads out of the room a second later he follows her out, which is a start.

#danny phantom #jazz fenton #maddie fenton #jack fenton #danny fenton #no one knows au #my fic

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harukamitsuki · 6 days ago

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Hello! Having a bunch of an unfinished WIPs is so relatable. Like, I literally started writing a MHA Fic where Hawks properly yet secretly joins the LOV but it's told exclusively from Tokoyami's POV also Aoyama is here and Tokoyama's endgame. But like I haven't touched it since like September and I'm now even thinking about changing how/when the fic starts. And not to mention my unpublished LOV Medic!Natsuo WIP and my own MHA Rewrite (which will be actually posted to @mharewrite-purpose in the near future). Anyways, back to the Forced Team-Up AU :P

I can't help but imagine the silence that filled the air after the remaining class 1-A finished caught up learning about the Tartarus Break-In. A lot of them are teary-eyed and some of them can't help but feel guilty. For all, sleeping through that mess. For some not being there for the Izucrew. For others not following them during the original raid. And for One, a guilt that be goes much further back before UA.

Obviously, there is clips in the Shoowaysha Publishing article of the LOV and Izucrew helping each other. Todoroki putting a wall of ice between Dabi and a random hero. Mr. Compress using his quirk on Aoyama, saving him from a life-ending blow from a so-called hero, but not before that same hero ended up destroying Aoyama's belt, the hero's quirk causing the belt explode (that part of the clip got a particularly loud sob from Hagakure) etc etc. However, since that Shoowaysha Publishing article comes written by a Meta Liberation Army member (though one could argue all Shoowaysha Publishing employees are apart of the MLA), it is not unbiased. The article is inherently critical of heroics, of the HSPC, of the heroes that participated in trying to stop the Tartarus Break-In, and most importantly it's critical of quirks, with of course calling them "Meta Abilities" instead of "Quirks".

And that gets an eyebrow raised from Nedzu, All Might, Vlad, and Aizawa (and whatever other staff that's present) when some of Class 1-A (Mina and the students that has been able to keep it together. Kirishima staying behind at the dorms to console and keep an eye on the students that brokedown) decided to go to them. To inform remind the teachers of the events that has already unfolded. There's a heaviness in staff room and that heaviness only grows when Mina and her classmates leave.

That is when All Might's phone goes off. Breaking the tension with that all too familiar ringtone. All Might's stammers out an apology. Yes, he does think it's Inko calling him, but to his suprise, it's actually the one and only David Shield. (Internally, there’s a bit of disappointment when he realizes that it wasn’t Inko. But he is happy to speak to David)

So, as All Might excused himself to have this phone call with David. Nedzu and the rest of the staff present couldn’t help but talk about the article they were shown, instead of continuing whatever conversation they were having prior to Mina and the others showing up

That's also a silence when Aoyama tackles Shigaraki into a hug. Aoyama's verbal mess of "thank you" and "merci" melting into quiet sobs. On contrary to one's belief, Shigaraki doesn't hate physical contact, so after making sure Aoyama didn’t turn himself into dust, it’s a bit (a lot) awkward but Shigaraki does return his hug. Then there’s an old, distance memory that flashes in Shigaraki's mind- it’s fragmented and blurry but Shigaraki knows that it’s a memory of his mother hugging and consoling him when he was a toddler.

A chill ran up his spin and there’s a bittersweet tingle on his tongue. And in response to that memory, he hugs Aoyama a little bit tighter. Perhaps, there’s a burn behind his eyes and a few tears managed to escape.

Soon enough Aoyama wasn’t the only one breaking down in tears. The only teens not crying would be Momo, Todoroki, Toga, and surprisingly enough Midoriya. Though, Momo and Midoriya (and a couple of the LOV members too tbh) are one coin flip away from breaking down themselves.

Uncomfortable (and probably a bit overwelmed) with a bunch of crying children, Dabi's the first to put distance between him and the group. Well, he’s a bit slow to do it, considering his injured state and Kurogiri.

But Dabi manages to escape the watchful eyes of Kurogiri when it comes to light that Aoyama has ripped his stitches when he tackle hugged Shigaraki. So, despite the pain, he manages to leave the room and goes outside. Luckily, the abandoned building they’re hold up is in a forest with heavy foliage and it’s on the outskirts of a nearby city (one of the Izucrew, perhaps Momo, had recognized it as the city of Deika).

So, Dabi leaned against the wall of the abandoned building, lighting a cigarette.

There’s a door creaking open. A figure coming out of the abandoned building. The person joins him. Revealing the figure to be–

And have a silly little cliffhanger, that if you’d like you can decide who joins Dabi outside. And okay, so this one a lot more prose-y, but in my defense I was listening to an audiobook while writing this lol.

— ✨✍️ (<- This can be my little emoji combo indicator)

Nice promo there, buddy, haha

(Might check it out hmm)

I can imagine 1-A just rewatching all those close calls, some too close for comfort, in the dead of night, unable to do anything else. When they're not watching them, they're thinking about it. Even the staff are the same, because this isn't a group of heroes making an unlikely alliance, it's a bunch of kids fighting for their lives against the people who should be protecting them.

The staff feel even worse when the kids remind them of everything that's been happening, because how do they feel about it? How do their own students now view heroism and thus them after seeing heroes constantly fail and actively harm their friends for a false claim?

They don't realise that this, right here, is them trusting them. Allowing their teachers to see them so vulnerable, letting them know what they could monopolise if they wanted to, is their show of trust. But the staff don't view it as this - they see it as a slap to the face.

"What are you doing about it?" it seems like they're asking.

All Might x Inko, yes, I agree. But David is also a close friend to All Might who knows him well enough to help him, emotionally or otherwise. This could be where he informs All Might he's coming to Japan with Melissa.

When Yuuga breaks down, holding Tomura close, his friends don't know what to do.

Ochako and Tenya are mostly confused, because since when did they become so close, and when did Yuuga become so bold or courageous enough to do that? But, then they remember how fast they were forced to grow. How it feels like it's been years since they were safe in U.A. And they start crying, mourning for the innocence they thought they could hold onto for just a bit more.

Spinner and Twice cry from the get-go. The moment Yuuga breaks, so too do they. Twice constantly denying that he's crying, blaming ninjas cutting onions. Spinner has no shame, claiming that it's as tragic as it is beautiful.

Toga doesn't do anything at first, mostly confused as to why Yuuga's crying so much, and why he seems so relieves. But it all slams into her at once. Because of course he's relieved. She would hate to be forced to betray her friends just 'cause her family didn't care enough. And while she doesn't cry, she allows herself to watch, and just feel his pain.

Momo wants to cry. She does, but she can't bring herself to. Her eyes are too dry. She breathes in and out, trying to regulate her pacing, but it isn't enough. In this scenario, she knows she should be crying, and maybe one more push would break her, but as it is now, she can only feel so destroyed by everything all at once.

Shouto wishes he could bring himself to cry. Yet, as he watches, he can only feel sympathy. Not quite empathy. He thinks about Endeavour, and how he'd feel is someone killed him, freeing him from his shackles of abuse, and isn't sure how to feel about how little he'd care.

Izuku watches it all, and feels so wrong. He's the one who cries so easily, who had no shame in crying fountains on live TV, in front of thousands of pro heroes. He should be the first one to have cried, maybe even before Yuuga did. But, as he watches, he can't find it in himself to cry over what should be celebrated.

Eventually, Kurogiri peels Yuuga off to dress his wounds and Dabi manages to escape outside, lighting up a cigarette. He brings it to his mouth, taking relief with each burning inhale, blowing out smoke and watching the wind catch it.

As he does, someone approaches him. I can imagine Hawks dropping in. Dabi does as he usually does, approaching him with sarcasm and cynicism, until Hawks asks if it's true. That Endeavour abused him and still abuses his children.

He wants Dabi to say it was a big, fat lie. That he only said it to stir controversy in the media and he could continue to look up to Endeavour as his saviour - the one who saved him from his own torrent of abuse.

He doesn't, and Hawks hates how stupid he was. A good action doesn't make a good man, and he should have known, but he let himself be blinded.

He takes off his sunglasses and throws them against the wall, hard enough to shatter them into pieces. Dabi observes coldly.

"The HPSC have orders to kill on sight," he tells Dabi, breathing heavy, towering over his destroyed visors with rage. "Be careful. And don't you dare let those kids die."

"No promises."

Hawks was the only one to make sense to me, but I can also see Endeavour appearing or even Natsu and Fuyumi. I can't see Melissa and Mei finding them this easily, so it would probably continue on until the IzuCrew somehow get a signal out to them that only Melissa and Mei can decode.

See ya later, ✨✍️

#ask #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha au

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hannahmanderr · 2 years ago

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DannyMay Day 21 - Shatter

Words: 2,132

Summary: What if it had never been Danny's choice to lose his powers in Phantom Planet? (PP AU)

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Tucker glanced anxiously at Sam. “Are you gonna knock?”

She scoffed, but it was half-hearted at best. “It’s Danny, when have we ever knocked to come in?”

“Then, why aren’t you going in?” he retorted, raising an eyebrow. He could call her bluff far too easily like this, when she donned her bravado to hide her own anxiety.

Still, he couldn’t blame her. These waters were treacherous, and they were some that the three of them had never thought they would cross. He knew perfectly well that she didn’t know how to approach the situation (a rarity for someone as confident as Sam Manson), but it was because he felt the exact same way.

After knowing Danny for more than a decade, he figured he was prepared to help his best friend through anything. Really, the three of them knew each other backwards and forwards; usually so well to the point where they would absolutely blow everyone out of the water during those “dating game” ice-breaker things they would do at camps and such. So it wasn’t normal for him - for either of them - to feel so far out of their depth that they didn’t know what to do or say.

As far as he could remember, he and Sam had only found themselves in this same situation once - back during the first couple of weeks after Danny had the accident that made him half-ghost. After all, what are you supposed to say to comfort your friend when they die? It’s not like either of them could relate.

It’s not like either of us can relate now, he thought quietly. He had no idea how to put himself in Danny’s shoes, especially after going through this most recent situation.

He exhaled shakily and, without thinking, grabbed Sam’s hand. Normally, she’d recoil from the physical contact, but she gripped his hand back like it was her lifeline. Their eyes met, and the unspoken message was there. We do it together.

They both gave a curt nod, and then Sam carefully edged Danny’s door open.

“Danny?” she called quietly into the dark room. “You in here?”

“Jazz said you’d be here, and I don’t think she’d lie to us,” Tucker joked nervously. He couldn’t help it; he was the kind of guy that needed any humor he could get when dealing with a heavy situation.

Danny was, in fact, in his room, sitting at his desk with the curtains drawn and the lights off. He had his star-studded comforter draped over his head and wrapped tightly around his shoulders. A couple of half-eaten Chinese takeout containers and empty Mountain Dew bottles cluttered his desk, though his laptop still sat open in front of him with some Nat Geo documentary on Saturn playing quietly.

Tucker did his best to avoid cringing as he remembered the encounter with Vlad a week or two ago that Danny had told them about - some sort of fight over the Infi-Map on the outer rings of Saturn. Naturally, he and Sam hadn’t been able to go, what with their human needs like warmth and oxygen. He wondered if it was really the best idea for him to be wallowing in things that would remind him of Vlad, considering what had happened.

When Danny heard them enter, he turned. Dark, heavy bags weighed under his eyes, and his skin looked chalkier than normal. Still, he managed to muster a frail smile for his friends. “Hey guys,” he said hoarsely.

“Hey Danny,” Sam replied. “We just - well, we haven’t heard from you since… you know…”

“We just wanted to check in on you,” Tucker picked up when Sam trailed off.

Danny’s eyes pierced through them like knives, but the look wasn’t one of anger or accusation. Slowly, he nodded and flicked his eyes to the side. “Jazz told you what happened then…” he said, his voice quiet.

“And we’re glad she did,” Sam said as she sat on the edge of Danny’s bed. Tucker took a seat beside her. “We’re worried about you. We had no idea Vlad had figured out how to do something like that.”

“Me neither,” Danny muttered. He pulled his knees up to his chest, making him look even smaller. “I just… it’s…”

The room fell into an uneasy silence. As Tucker kept careful eyes on both Sam and Danny, he chewed his lip. Frankly, he’d expected more pushback from Danny. He loved his best friend to death, but he knew he could be a bit of a stubborn jerk sometimes. And sometimes, Stubborn Jerk Danny liked to try and put up walls of defense between himself and the people worried about him.

This was an entirely different Danny, though. This Danny was devoid of hope and life, as though someone had come in and sucked all his vitality away.

(It wasn’t too far off from what had really happened, all things considered.)

Danny sighed and buried his chin into his knees. “I don’t have some sort of plan to fix it, if that’s what you wanted to hear,” he said. “It’s just… It’s over guys.”

“Don’t say that!” Sam insisted. “There’s no way… I mean, he can’t have actually done it, can he?”

Danny only held one of his hands in front of his face and stared at it intently. Tucker got the feeling something was supposed to be happening - invisibility, intangibility, anything - but the hand stubbornly refused to change.

As the seconds ticked by, Danny’s face grew stormier until he finally shouted in exasperation and let his hand fall. “See? It’s like I said. I’ve been trying to get it to do something, anything for days now and nothing. It’s all gone. I can’t even feel -” he stopped abruptly and swallowed thickly, holding a fist over his sternum. Tucker couldn’t hide the wince this time; he knew what Danny was referring to, and if he wasn’t feeling it at all…

“There has to be something left,” Sam said. Desperation was starting to creep into her voice, and the blankets on Danny’s bed began to bunch up under her grip. “Even when you split yourself, it was never a clean split! There was always something left!”

Danny’s eyes were fixed on a pair of jeans lying haphazardly on the floor, but they were distant. He shook his head absently. “We tried, me and Jazz,” he whispered. “We even looked at a bit of my blood, and it’s… normal. No ectoplasm or anything.”

At this point, Sam looked like she was about to cry, which shook Tucker almost as much as Danny’s news. “Dude, I… I’m so sorry,” he said, not sure what else to say. He’d been at a similar loss for words more than a year ago, when part of Danny had died in that portal.

What could he say now that Danny had un-died?

“And because the portal was shut down, he was able to destroy it,” Danny was saying. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to get to Frostbite, or Clockwork, or someone, I don’t care if it’s the freaking Box Ghost. I need…”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Sam growled. “He’s a sick, twisted little -”

“Whatever you’re gonna say,” Danny interrupted, “Jazz has probably already said it for you. The only reason she didn’t try to tear Vlad apart when he did it is because she didn’t know if he’d just actually killed me or not.”

“Then I’ll tell everyone! What’s he gonna do, spill your secret? I could call down to Station 7 right now and -”

“Tell them what? What proof do we have?” Tucker surprised himself with his interruption. Judging by Sam and Danny’s wide eyes, they’d been caught off guard too. “He can just deny it, and he still has other ways to get back at Danny.”

“I don’t care! He’ll have to get through me first!” Sam shouted. “I can’t believe you’re saying we should just lie down and take this!”

Tucker frowned. “Do not start with that. I didn’t say anything like that; you’re putting words in my mouth again! I’m just… trying to be realistic.”

“Okay, fine, but ‘realistic’ doesn’t mean there’s nothing we can do!” Sam jumped to her feet and pointed an accusatory finger at Tucker. “I get that you’re trying to temper expectations or whatever, but you can’t just shut things down like that!”

“Like what? I said one thing! And you just started jumping down my throat!”

“Well maybe if you’d let me finish my sentence, you -”

“Enough!” Danny thundered, startling his two arguing friends into silence.

Well, it was part of the reason they fell so immediately quiet.

In his anger and desperation to stop them arguing, Danny had sprung out of his seat when he shouted, and in the process, the comforter which had been so tightly wrapped around his head and shoulders fell in a heap at his feet. Without the blanket, Tucker and Sam could see where his head had originally been covered, and what they saw stunned them just as much as his outburst.

A pure, jagged bolt of white streaked through his black hair. It started somewhere towards the back of his skull, where the hair began to sweep forward instead of down, emerging like a shooting star through a night sky. It followed the contour of his hair and into his bangs, falling just to the side of his left eye.

Sam was the first to react. She gingerly reached forward and laid a gentle touch to the white streak. Danny flinched when he realized what the two of them had seen, but he still allowed her to get close.

“Oh Danny…” she whispered, her voice thick and devoid of all the heat it’d held just moments before.

“Oh my God,” Tucker muttered. A wave of dizziness and nausea swept over him. For some reason, Danny’s loss, his trauma hadn’t truly hit him until he saw the awful reminder of what had once been. Now, seeing the aftermath of Vlad’s cruelty, the impacts nearly overwhelmed him.

Danny Phantom was gone. Danny Fenton was left, broken beyond recognition.

Danny wrapped his arms around himself. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. Tears prickled in the corners of his eyes. “I can’t… I-I’m just…”

In one motion, Sam swept him into a tight hug. Tucker was an instant behind her. Danny started, but then sniffed and leaned into their embrace. Seconds later, he broke down entirely and sobbed into Sam’s shoulder. The sound broke Tucker’s heart clean in half.

He didn’t know how long they stood like that, him and Sam holding onto Danny’s weeping form like they’d lose him if they let go. At some point, he didn’t know when, they’d moved to their knees, and Tucker draped the comforter around the three of them. Eventually, as Danny’s cries tapered off, they found themselves in some sort of three-person pile. Danny had his head in Sam’s lap, and she combed her fingers through his hair gently. Tucker pressed himself against Danny’s back and rested his cheek against Sam’s shoulder.

As they laid there, Tucker couldn’t tear his eyes away from that cursed streak. The way it rippled and parted around Sam’s fingers only reinforced the fact that this wasn’t some nightmare they would just wake up from. Vlad really had found a way to forcibly revert Danny’s half-ghost status. And now…

Danny’s cries died into hiccups and sniffles. A heavy silence fell around the three of them, only broken when Sam placed a hand against his cheek and whispered, “Hey.” Watery blue eyes looked up and backwards to meet her own; she made eye contact with Tucker too before speaking again.

“We’re right here, Danny. We’re not going anywhere.” Her voice was tender yet firm with the sincerity of her words. Tucker reinforced them by taking Danny’s hand and squeezing it. “We’re gonna get through this, Phantom or not. We don’t care what it takes or how long.”

Tucker could tell by the look in Danny’s eyes that he wanted to smile back and thank them, but he couldn’t muster enough to do so. Instead, he closed his eyes and relaxed further into their loving touch. “I don’t know what I’d do without you guys,” he whispered.

The moment was interrupted by the harsh jangle of Tucker’s PDA ringtone. Cursing under his breath, he pulled it out of his pocket. “I forgot I still have news alerts turned on,” he said as he swiped to open the notification. Both Danny and Sam craned their necks to see as Tiffany Snow’s face loaded onto the screen.

“We interrupt this broadcast to bring you breaking news from NASA and the Department of Defense. A major asteroid, originating from Saturn’s orbit, has been forecasted to make direct impact with Earth…”

#danny phantom #dannymay #dannymay2023 #dannymay 2023 #tucker foley #sam manson #danny phantom fanfic #hannah writes #danny phantom au #whoops i tried to write angst

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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years ago

Text

Raise the Barre (Ch. 8)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: underage drinking, angst, hoseok’s bare abs

Word Count: 10,705

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

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

“Okay, even you have to admit this is too soon.” Finn stared, appalled at the chalkboard. “It’s not even Halloween!”

Laughing a little, you looped your arm around his to drag him towards the back. Plopping down in a chair, you placed your order number in the center of the table. Seating himself across the table from you, Finn began to undo his coat.

“Come on.” He grinned, brown hair flopping when he leaned forward. “Admit it – this is too early for holiday drinks.”

“Okay, maybe it’s a little early,” you acquiesced. “But Halloween is tomorrow! They probably just put up the holiday drinks so they don’t have to do it on Sunday.”

“Laziness!” he cried, jabbing a finger in the air.

Shaking your head, you smiled when Namjoon, the barista, placed a pumpkin soy latte before you.

“Thanks!” you said, pulling this towards you.

“No problem,” he said, flashing his dimples before he turned to leave.

Taking a long, slow sip of your drink, you groaned. “Oh my god. This is it. This is heaven.”

Finn laughed. “Is that seriously your first pumpkin drink of the season?” Sadly, he shook his head. “I remember our senior year, you dragged me out of bed at 7:00 AM on a Saturday just to get the first pumpkin drink of the year.”

“I know,” you sighed. “But I’ve needed the extra caffeine jolt each morning. Sweet drinks just don’t cut it anymore.”

“Ah, the first step in addiction.” Finn nodded sagely.

Smiling, you settled back in your seat as he took the first sip of his black coffee. It had been two weeks since your fight at the club and since then, Finn had been on his best behavior. For about a week, things between you had been awkward but slowly, your relationship was returning to normal.

Seated in the corner of your favorite coffee shop, you drank from your cup and glanced around the room. This was what you’d pictured when you imagined you and Finn living in the city together. Coffee dates, going on new adventures and continuing your relationship where it had left off.

Of course, this morning was only possible because Miss Britt’s ballet class had been cancelled. A contemporary master class had been scheduled for the afternoon, but your day before then was free – something you’d immediately taken advantage of by calling Finn. It was becoming easier to fit each other into your schedules, more like second nature, but things were still tense whenever things didn’t line up.

None of this was eased by the burgeoning whatever-it-was you’d shoved to the back of your mind regarding Jimin. Since the day of Mr. Vlad’s ballet class, you’d managed to keep your emotions in check, but were constantly on the lookout for dangerous situations. You and Jimin were professionals, obviously, but you were also only human. It was reasonable to have subconscious wants and desires, but these weren’t important unless you chose to act upon them.

You didn’t tell Finn about it because honestly, there was nothing to tell. Okay, so you’d felt an errant spark one day during a lift. Big deal. Finn had been your boyfriend for over two years – it would take more than that to threaten your relationship. A relationship which, frankly, had been getting stronger as of late. Telling him something as inconsequential as a spark you had with Jimin would only take you further down the wrong path.

“Are you sure you’re okay with us doing separate things tomorrow?” Finn interrupted your thoughts. His brow furrowed. “It is Halloween, after all.”

“Ah, yes.” You nodded. “Halloween, the internationally known couple’s holiday.”

He laughed. “Okay, point made – but still.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him. This was something you’d already been over. “It just makes sense like this! Your friends are going to that off-campus party and I promised Noelle I’d go to this club thing with her.”

“Right, of course.” Finn grinned. “I’m bummed I’ll miss seeing you as the Powerpuff girls, though. Who’s going to be the third one, again?”

“Well, I’m Blossom – obviously.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “Miss Responsibility.”

A twinge of annoyance went through you, but you pushed it aside. You didn’t think you were always the responsible one but admittedly, you’d been more on edge than usual lately.

“Anyways,” you continued with a roll of your eyes. “I’m Blossom, Noelle is Buttercup and Irene is going as Bubbles. It’ll be fun! Aside from the whole club part, of course.”

“It does sound fun,” Finn admitted, a tad mournful. “Meanwhile, I’ve been roped into the classic college bro costume of Ghostbusters.”

“Oh, come on! That is classic! You’ll be super cute in your… suit? Cargo pants? What do Ghostbusters wear again?”

“Knowing Ben, something tragic from Party City. Pray for me.”

“I’ll light candles.”

Finn grinned, sipping his coffee again and your conversation slipped naturally to other topics.

Halloween fell on a Saturday this year, which meant every college campus was gearing up for some epic parties. Noelle had managed to snag tickets to a club fancy enough to require an RSVP. Apparently, said brother she missed was a DJ and could get tickets to a lot of things if Noelle bothered to ask.

A bunch of people from Russet were going, which made you excited. There hadn’t been many parties with your classmates so far this semester. Despite technically being in college, your classmates were all under the same intense pressure, only made worse by constant early morning ballet.

This week though, even your teachers seemed to have decided you needed a break. Aside from the master class you had this afternoon, there were zero Russet classes until Monday morning. The break in schedule meant you could actually go out – and drink – if you so decided. You and Noelle were planning on attending a ballet class tomorrow, but your entire day after would be free.

You’d originally planned on seeing Finn during the day, but then he’d been invited to a Halloween darty (day party) starting at noon. Despite not seeing Finn on Halloween, you weren’t feeling stressed. It was only one holiday and not even a couple’s one, as you’d said.

After coffee, you kissed Finn goodbye and headed to class at Danley Hall. The atmosphere was different as soon as you entered the classroom – all of the students were buzzing, excited by the prospect of the weekend ahead. The excitement only grew when coupled with the fact that today’s class was contemporary.

For nearly two months, your training had been mostly ballet. This was the foundation of all western dance, and where most dance students were expected to start. Finally though, you were being given a chance to show off. Today’s teacher, Luna Jordan, was a well-known contemporary choreographer across the globe.

You’d done a master class with her once back in high school and honestly couldn’t wait to learn from her again. She wasn’t alone, though, you noticed as you walked in – an unfamiliar, dark-haired guy stood beside her, stretching lithely before the room’s mirror.

“Holy shit,” Noelle whispered as she came to a stop. “That’s Jeon Jungkook.”

Startled, you looked twice and saw she was right. You hadn’t recognized him without his bevy of followers, but Jeon Jungkook was known in the dance world. A child prodigy, he’d been on America’s Got Talent at age eleven and finished in second place. Following this, his family had moved to LA and he’d been in high demand for movies, music videos and performances ever since.

You remembered hearing he worked with Luna Jordan, but the thought hadn’t crossed your mind before now that he might be here.

Noelle cocked her head to one side. “He’s hot.”

“Noelle,” you hissed, trying to shush her.

“What!” A devious grin spread across her face. “Am I supposed to be blind, as well as mute?”

“Well, no, but –”

“Alright, everyone!” Miss Luna clapped her hands together. “I know everyone is excited for the weekend, but we unfortunately have an hour and a half together before then. Everyone spread out for warm-ups!”

A few people laughed, spreading out on the floor as class began. Noelle wriggled her eyebrows, pulling you towards the front in order to get the best spot. Hiding a smile, you ducked your head and settled beside her into a stretch.

Noelle was nearly as excited as you were for the opportunity to dance contemporary. Most of your classmates knew this to be your forte – you caught glances from the corner of your eye while you warmed up, trying not to let their attention get to your head.

Jimin was also near the front, although on the opposite side. You suspected your class was equally excited to see him perform – as talented as Jimin was at ballet, there was a reason you hadn’t thought he’d be at Russet this fall. Jimin’s strength in jazz and contemporary was unparalleled. You would’ve thought he’d gone to LA to become a dancer like Jungkook.

Speaking of whom – Jungkook really was attractive; that much couldn’t be denied. He had dark, wavy hair pulled into a bun and cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. When he glanced up from his stretch, his gaze somehow found yours and he smiled.

Eyes widening, you stared until you caught sight of Jimin behind him. Glancing between the two of you, Jimin’s expression soured before he looked away. Lips parting, you felt the sudden urge to say something, but there was too much distance between you.

“You ready?” Miss Luna called, an upbeat pop song blasting from the stereo. “Let’s go!”

She launched into isolations, leaving the rest of the class to follow. Warm-ups passed quickly and before you knew it, you were gathered at center to learn the combination. Miss Luna’s style was right up your alley. The steps came easily and, once you’d learned the whole chorus, she left you alone to practice.

You were helping Ari with a difficult move when you caught sight of Sabrina as you turned. She’d positioned herself near the back, which had to be a first. Usually, Sabrina was front and center to allow for maximum receipt of teacher praise.

The decision to stand near the back could’ve been strategy – sometimes, dancers did that at conventions. Conventions were giant weekends of competition with teachers from all over the globe who taught master classes to hundreds of dancers in hotel ballrooms and convention centers. Space at the front tended to be limited, so some stayed at the back, where there was more room to dance and be seen. You had a greater likelihood to capture the teacher’s attention when you had the room to do incredible leaps.

Sabrina’s decision didn’t seem strategic, though. While you watched, Sabrina stumbled transitioning from one move to the next. A brief twinge of pity went through you.

It was easy enough to spot ballerinas dancing anything but ballet. Although ballet was the root of modern westernized dance, it could be hard to translate into other styles. Ballet was more rigid than contemporary, jazz or hip-hop. In ballet, each position was defined, individual style was limited, and dancers were expected to all look the same. Standing out in the corps de ballet was equally frowned upon as missing an entrance.

Not that ballet wasn’t important to all dance styles, mind you. Even hip-hop dancers took ballet to improve their balance, core strength and general understanding of the body. There was an element of individuality in other dance styles, though, which lacked in ballet. Contemporary and hip-hop dancers were expected to have relentless technique all while creating their own, unique flair.

Just looking at Sabrina you could clearly see the holes. She was trying so hard to emulate the moves of Miss Luna, she was kind of missing the point. When Miss Luna did a certain flick of the wrist, it wasn’t a defined part of the choreography, but rather an individual choice.

Without thinking, you took a step forward – only to stop. Sabrina wouldn’t want your help; she’d already made that abundantly clear. Besides, you knew her friend Katie to be a contemporary dancer. She could help Sabrina and yet, when you looked, you saw Katie practicing near the front with Jungkook.

Jungkook obviously knew the steps, since this was probably the tenth time he’d learned the combination. Dance teachers often did that – selected a dancer to attend classes with them, traveling to different cities to demonstrate the combination and help when they weren’t free.

Before you could decide whether to help Sabrina, Miss Luna clapped her hands again.

“Let’s do groups!” she declared. “I’ll count you off into groups of four, and each group will showcase. Sound good?”

It wasn’t really a question so much as an announcement. The rest of the class nodded, waiting while Miss Luna counted you off. You ended up in the same group as Irene, Paulo and a few others. Jimin and Noelle were in the group two, while Sabrina was in the group after theirs.

Jogging off to the side, you waited while the first group took center. You were part of group four, which meant you’d be amongst the last to dance on the floor. When the music began, you closed your eyes and began to mark the combination. You tried not to focus on what anyone else was doing, but this became difficult once Noelle’s group stepped up.

Noelle had trained in jazz and contemporary, although she’d stopped in high school to focus mainly on ballet. Still, her artistry shone in her movement. She could definitely stand to loosen up a bit but was still one of the best in the bunch. You found yourself smiling when she landed a turn, silently cheering her on from the side.

While you were watching, Jimin cut across your vision.

Dropping to the ground, he rolled and arched as his forehead brushed wood. His quality of movement was breathtaking and for a moment, you felt like you were back in high school.

Suddenly returned to those dimmed auditoriums, you watched Jimin take the stage like an otherworldly being. His body seemed to move before your mind could comprehend. Barely did he finish one move before he was starting another, the steps flowing endlessly together like unhindered water. Although you knew the combination and knew how you would dance it, watching Jimin perform was a different experience entirely.

Ballet required dancers to stay on the beat but in contemporary, they were expected to lag. Extensions were all the more breathtaking when they clung to the last second, seeming as though the dancer might not make it before they caught up. Jimin was an expert in this, knowing exactly when to hang precariously over the edge and when to pull back.

Watching him dance, that pesky, strange something bloomed in your chest again.

Squashing this quickly, you looked away and resumed marking the combo. The end of the song was improvisation though and, unable to stop yourself, you found your attention drifting to Jimin again. He was ridiculously beautiful – you nearly didn’t hear when Miss Luna called for them to stop. As she turned off the music, she applauded the group while they walked from the floor.

Breathing heavily, Noelle came to a stop alongside you and – somewhat guiltily, since you hadn’t been watching – you gave her a high-five.

“That was awesome!” you said with a grin. “You definitely stood out in the group.”

Noelle snort-laughed. “Not with Jimin up there, but that’s okay. This is his specialty – and yours,” she added with a wink. “I’m psyched for group four.”

“Ah,” you groaned, rubbing your neck. “Too much pressure.”

Noelle laughed, shaking her head as group three took the floor. Both of you fell silent to watch, your curious gaze finding Sabrina in the back. Sabrina looked almost nervous; an emotion which seemed out of place on her features. It made her look almost human.

As soon as the music began, you stifled a wince. Sabrina stood out from the group, and not in a good way. She had the combination down but moved with a woodenness you would’ve expected from someone half her age. It was enough for you to glance at Miss Luna, wondering if she had noticed.

“Wow,” Noelle whispered, looking almost gleeful. “Sabrina is terrible.”

“Noelle!” you whisper-laughed.

“What? After everything she’s done? After everything she’s said?” Noelle’s gaze narrowed. “Sabrina deserves this.”

Despite privately agreeing, you couldn’t help but feel bad as Sabrina continued. Not wanting to watch any longer, you turned towards the front and resumed marking the combo. As soon as Miss Luna cut the music and polite clapping ensued, you turned back around.

It was time for group four. A shaky, sick feeling entered your stomach as you walked to center. So many eyes were on you, but it had been so long since you danced contemporary. You couldn’t help but wonder if you were as good as people seemed to imagine. Surrounded by so many dancers at Russet, surely your own talent would pale in comparison.

As soon as the music began though, everything faded. Insecurities slipping away, a lightness entered your chest as, eyes falling shut, you slowly inhaled.

Taking a step forward, you opened your eyes and began.

To you, dance had several phases. The first was learning, where you memorized each step and put them in order. The second was understanding, where your muscle memory began to take over and the combination felt smoother. The final phase, performance, was when you thought not of the steps, and were free to just dance.

This was your favorite phrase. In this phase, your mind separated from your body, leaving you only with sweat and emotion. Dance was the only art form composed solely of the body. An odd combination of physical strength and artistic beauty, it was both a testament to human capability and human emotion.

Losing yourself in the music, you ebbed and flowed through the combination until the choreography ended and improvisation began. Finally, you let go and held nothing back. Raw, unbridled passion poured out as you lost sight of yourself, so consumed by the movement.

When the song finally finished and you came to a stop, you were panting for breath. Glancing up, the first person you saw was Jimin.

He stood off to one side, leaning casually against the rungs of the barre, but his expression was anything but. Focused on you, his gaze had turned dark in a way which made you catch your breath.

Miss Luna clapped both hands once again, returning your attention to her. Blinking, Jimin shook his head and in your peripheral, you saw him straighten.

“Very good!” Miss Luna scanned the group. “I know our time is nearly at and end, but why don’t we have a few students come out and demonstrate?”

Again, this was fairly common in master classes. After learning the combination, teachers would often single out students to perform as examples. It wasn’t always the students with the best technique who got chosen. Oftentimes, it was as much for passion and performance quality.

Taking a step forward, Miss Luna began to call out names. You were one of the first – setting your water down, you jogged back to center. Jimin was the next person called, then Noelle, much to your excitement. Jungkook was also instructed to join on the floor.

Turning the lights halfway down, Miss Luna pressed play and let you improvise until the combination began. Jungkook started dancing and honestly, he was beautiful, but you couldn’t linger on him for long.

Catching sight of Jimin again, you were once more transported to earlier times. This wasn’t the first time you’d been called out together. Oftentimes, this had happened at conventions but back then, your mind had been too clouded to see him for who he was.

You’d always wanted to beat him in high school, but now, you were consumed by the oddest desire to see him do well.

Glancing up, Jimin caught your gaze and he smiled – but then, the combination began.

By the time you were finished, you could hardly catch your breath but somehow, you felt the most alive you’d been in ages. Back in your own element, surrounded by some of the most amazing dancers in the world – this was what you’d imagined when you came to Russet.

People around the room clapped, some of them begrudgingly. You got the impression many of your classmates weren’t used to not being chosen. As you walked from the floor, you saw surprisingly, Sabrina wasn’t amongst them.

Instead, Sabrina simply looked tired – as though she’d tried her best and it hadn’t been enough. You knew that look. You sympathized with that look.

The look lingered in the back of your mind while you packed up your things and listened to Noelle discuss Halloween tomorrow. When she mentioned Ari had decided to visit her family this weekend, an idea began to form in your mind.

“Wait,” you interrupted, looking up. “Ari can’t come tomorrow?”

Noelle shook her head. “Her brother just turned eighteen, so her whole family is having a party or something.”

“So… her ticket is free, then?”

“Yes…” Noelle paused. “Why? Y/N, what are you planning?”

“Okay. Hear me out,” you said as you shrugged on your coat. It was cold enough now for the coat to be necessary.

Noelle sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Alright, I’m listening.”

Glancing away, you saw Sabrina packing her things on the other side of the room. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you returned to Noelle.

“What if we invited Sabrina?”

Noelle snorted. “Pass.”

“Noelle,” you laughed, reaching out for her arm. “Come on! Do you really think she’s doing anything for Halloween?”

“Probably not. And that’s her own fault.”

“Maybe,” you said, glancing at Sabrina once more. “But how could it hurt? We have an extra ticket, there’ll be tons of people tomorrow night. She’ll probably say no – at least this way, you can claim a write-off on your way into heaven!”

Noelle upper lip twitched. “Oh, is that how write-offs work?”

“Well, I can only assume.”

Finally, she laughed. “Ugh, fine. You can invite her – but only because it’s Halloween, and Halloween is a time for peace. And slutty costumes.”

“Thanks, babe,” you said, squeezing her waist in a one-armed hug.

Sighing exaggeratedly, Noelle waved aside your thanks. Hiking your bag higher, you began to make your way across the room. As you closed in on Sabrina, you began to rethink your choice. It had been nearly a month since anything bad had happened between you but still, you found yourself feeling wary. As tough as you pretended to be, rejection hurt you just as much as the next person.

Still, dancing with Jimin had been a reminder of just how bitter your relationship used to be. If that relationship could change, you had to imagine things with Sabrina could, too.

Coming to a stop at her bag, you waited for her to look up. When she finally did, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

“What?” Sabrina asked, sounding defensive. “What do you want, Y/N?”

You couldn’t really blame her for her suspicion. Had your situations been reversed, you would’ve been equally distrustful. It was likely Sabrina thought you were coming over to gloat, or say something to do with class today. Another twinge of pity went through you as Sabrina zipped her bag shut to stand.

“I just wanted to know what you were doing tomorrow,” you said, trying to smile. “Noelle has an extra ticket to a Halloween party, and we thought you might like to come.”

Sabrina stared. “What?”

“Tomorrow is Halloween,” you said, a bit slower. “You know – when we were kids, it was all about costumes and candy. Now, it’s about costumes and booze?”

Sabrina failed to crack a smile. “And you want… me to come to this party?”

Something about the way she said this made you sad, as though she genuinely thought this might be a joke. As though at any moment, someone might jump out and yell SIKE.

“Yeah,” you said, softening a little. “Look – it’s not a big deal if you can’t make it. A bunch of our class is going though, so we thought of you.”

Sabrina hesitated, then glanced at the door. “Okay,” she said, looking back. “Okay, yeah. I’ll come.”

Stifling your surprise, you nodded. “Great. I’ll text you where to meet us tomorrow before the club. Wear a costume,” you added before walking away. “Noelle said it’s required.”

“Alright,” Sabrina said, so quiet you almost missed it.

Walking away, you were nearly at the door when Jungkook popped up before you. Flashing a smile, he fixed a loose strand of hair away from his face. Feet fumbling to a stop, you could only stare.

“Y/N, right?” he said, sounding shy.

Unable to find the words, you blinked in response. The way Jungkook danced had been so confident, you’d only assumed this to be his off-floor persona, as well. Hearing him sound shy was unexpected.

Also – you hadn’t expected him to know your name.

“I… yeah, that’s me.” Shaking your head, you smiled. “Jungkook, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I just wanted to say I’m such a big fan of your dancing. It was great to take class with you today.”

Without meaning to, a laugh escaped your lips. Jungkook stared at you, baffled until you quickly waved him off.

“Oh, no – no! Sorry,” you said. “I’m not laughing at you! I’m just laughing at the ridiculousness of you saying you’re a fan of me.”

Some of Jungkook’s wariness disappeared, and a small smile played across his lips.

“Well, I am.” His grin widened. “I used to assist on the convention circuit, too and I remember you being called out all the time. You and Jimin,” he added, glancing across the room.

You looked, too and saw Jimin still packing his things. His back was stiff, pointedly not looking in your direction. Lingering on him a moment, you returned to Jungkook.

“Still,” you said with a laugh. “It’s a bit of a stretch to say we took class together when you’re the teacher’s assistant.”

“True.” Jungkook paused. “Well, next time you’re in LA, let’s fix that. Let me know if you’re ever in town and we can take a class together.”

Despite yourself, your brows raised. It was harmless, but Jungkook was definitely flirting with you. He was attractive, sure and seemed nice, but he lived in LA and you had a boyfriend. You should probably leave before things had the chance to go any further. The last thing you needed was another complication. Adjusting your bag, you gave Jungkook a small smile.

“Sounds like a plan,” you said before turning away.

Jungkook chuckled from behind. “Bye, Y/N.”

As you joined Noelle at the door, she stared over your shoulder.

“What?” you said, coming to a stop.

Noelle’s gaze moved to yours in disbelief. “How?” she demanded as you exited class. “How do you have all these men just… tripping over themselves for you?”

Heat rising to your face, you shook your head. “That’s – I,” you sputtered. “You’re being ridiculous!”

“Am I?” Noelle grinned. “First Jimin, now Jungkook… and all this while having a boyfriend.”

“I… you... Jimin is not tripping over himself for me!”

Both her brows shot way, way up. “Is that the only part of the sentence you took objection to?”

“Shut up,” you groaned and shoved her in the side.

Noelle laughed but nodded. “Alright, fine! I’ll stop. Did Sabrina say she’ll come?”

“She did.”

“Great. I still don’t like her,” Noelle said, pushing open the door. “But I guess you’re right, I have an extra ticket. It’s nice to be nice.”

You laughed, pulling your coat tighter as you walked outside. “You’re a saint.”

While you walked, your phone dinged and pulling this from your pocket, you saw a notification on Instagram. Jeon_Jungkook97 has followed you.

Shaking your head, you returned this to your jacket as you continued. While it was nice of Jungkook to compliment your dancing, his approval didn’t mean as much as certain other peoples had. This realization stuck in your mind, making you wonder about Noelle’s teasing jibe.

She had said Jimin flirted with you, but that wasn’t true – was it? You would have known if Jimin were flirting. It was hard to pick out though, since Jimin was friendly with everyone. That was just who he was; as he’d said earlier, he liked to be liked. A note of uncertainty entered your thoughts though, recalling the ballet class with your chest pressed to his. Shoving this away, you forced yourself to focus on the upcoming weekend.

Halloween was a night for fun, for letting loose and enjoying yourself with your friends. You refused to let the night be spoiled by any lingering feelings – either from you, or towards you.

The next night was perfect Halloween weather.

Chilly, but not cold enough to risk snow falling. There were several Halloweens from childhood you could recall trick-or-treating with a winter coat flung over your costume because the temperature had dropped below freezing.

You, Noelle and Irene showed up to Paulo’s house around 8:00 PM, shivering a little while you stood on his doorstep. Paulo was one of the few freshmen who lived off-campus, having known several upperclassmen before he came to Russet. The brownstone he lived in was cute, with window boxes you imagined hosted flowers in the summer.

Tugging your pink and black minidress down, you adjusted your bow as Paulo opened the door.

Blinking, he took in your costumes. “The Powerpuff girls!” He cheered, raising an arm overhead. “Try not to take down any of the villains upstairs, yeah?”

“No promises,” said Irene, flicking hair over her shoulder.

Entering the house, you heard thumping bass from an apartment upstairs. Paulo lived on the third floor and as you climbed the steps, the music grew louder. It took Paulo two tries to shove open the door – “warped wood,” he explained – but once you were inside, you saw familiar faces.

“The Powerpuff girls!” Jasmine cried, jumping up from the couch. “Finally! Thank god – can you take down Eamon? He came here dressed as a potato, or something.”

“It’s an avocado!” Eamon shouted from the kitchen. He was dressed in a round, green costume with a halo overhead. “I’m ‘holy guacamole’ – get it?” he said, pointing at the halo.

Jasmine stared at him a moment. “That’s terrible. Worse than mine,” she said with a wave down her body. “I’ve been Princess Jasmine for the past five Halloweens. It’s easy to remember and I already have the outfit.”

Laughing, you shrugged off your coat and added this to a pile on the couch. “It’s a classic,” you agreed as you turned.

Noelle had managed to procure at least twenty tickets to the party tonight, so a lot of your freshman Russet class was in attendance. Including Sabrina, who stood in the corner, talking to Louis over cups of red punch. She looked up when you entered, pausing before she gave a small wave. Surprised by the gesture, you did the same.

“No.” Noelle groaned, coming to a stop alongside you. When you looked, you saw she’d already removed her coat. “Tell me Sabrina didn’t come to this party dressed as a ballerina.”

“We did invite her at the last minute,” you laughed. “Hard to find a good Halloween costume in a day.”

“Hey,” Noelle argued. “There’s no we here. You were the one who invited her, and you’ll be the one to accept the consequences should your social experiment fail.”

“Done,” you agreed. “Speaking of social experiments though, I’m ready to get drunk��tonight. Where’s the alcohol?”

“Kitchen!” Irene called, brushing past. “Or – that’s where Brian disappeared to when we entered, so I can only assume.”

Telling Noelle you’d be back with drinks, you wound through the room towards where Irene had pointed. The kitchen was tiny, on par with most city apartments. There was only room enough for one or two people, so you were lucky it was deserted when you entered.

Surveying the counter, you found the usual party staples. A bowl of red punch, a bunch of beer and various liquor bottles with chasers. Skipping over the communal punch bowl, you reached for a bottle of diet coke and coconut rum.

“Oh,” a voice said as they entered the kitchen. “Sorry – I didn’t know you were in here.”

Glancing up, you saw Jimin and froze.

He’d dyed his hair black – that was the first thing you noticed. Jimin’s hair was no longer blonde, but completely dark. His outfit confused you at first – a frilly, white blouse with slicked-back hair and dark trousers – until you saw his bright red contacts and the dribble of blood at his mouth.

“A vampire,” you said, finally recovering your voice. Scanning his body, you frowned. “Where are the teeth, though?”

Jimin blinked, his gaze jerking up from your waist.

“Huh?” he said, sounding a bit strangled.

Cheeks heating a little – your dress was pretty short – you repeated yourself. “The teeth,” you said, pointing at your own lips. “Don’t vampires have fangs?”

“Oh, right.” Jimin dug around in his pocket – fuck, were his trousers tight – to produce twin fangs. “I took them off when I got here. They’re really hard to talk in.”

“Go on then, Park,” you said with a grin. “Put them in.”

“One second.” Twisting to face the wall, Jimin popped them in his mouth. Turning around, he bared his teeth. “Sexy?”

With the teeth in though, the word came out more like shex-shie and you burst into laughter. “So sexy,” you agreed, reaching past him for a cup.

Jimin stiffened when your arm brushed his front. Unbidden, you thought about what Noelle had said – Jimin had been flirting with you. Pulling away, you resumed making your drinks and tried not to look in his direction.

Even so, you remained aware of his presence. Jimin inched his way behind you, reaching for the whiskey on the other side. His arm brushed your elbow as he went, right knee nudging yours in an intimate gesture.

Glancing up from the counter, you accidentally caught his gaze. Despite your earlier joking, he did look sexy. Devastatingly so. Even the blood-red contacts weren’t enough to deter the shiver which ran down your spine.

Shaking yourself free from your trance, you grabbed both cups and pulled back.

“So, what’re you drinking?” you asked.

You decided it was best to steer the conversation away from how sexy Park Jimin was or was not.

Seemingly oblivious to your inner turmoil, Jimin poured whiskey into his cup. “Whiskey and coke. Can you pass me that bottle?”

“Sure,” you said, leaping at the chance to prevent him from walking past you again. “Here you go.”

Pushing this forward, you watched Jimin pour both drinks all the way to the brim. He paused near the end, staring into the depths before he looked up. He seemed to be warring with something, debating whether or not to speak whatever was on his mind.

“So…” He paused. “Do you know Jungkook, or something?”

You blinked. “Jungkook…?”

“You know, Miss Luna’s assistant. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Oh! Jungkook. No, I don’t really know him.”

“You were talking to him at the end of class, though?”

Hearing the curiosity in his voice, both your brows raised. “And?”

“And nothing,” Jimin said, sounding uncomfortable. “I just… I didn’t know you knew him, that’s all.”

“I mean, I don’t.” You paused. “But even if I did, what does it matter?”

“It doesn’t.” His cheeks began to redden. “It’s just – ah, never mind. We don’t have that great a history, that’s all. He’s kind of the reason I’m at Russet this year.”

You stared at Jimin a moment. “Wow, what a tragedy,” you said, stifling a laugh. “To have been forced to attend one of the most prestigious dance institutions in the world.”

His upper lip twitched. “It’s not that. I was deciding between attending Russet and accepting a job offer out west. I was asked to join this pop star on tour… anyways, Jungkook’s never liked me much. It’s a long story.” Jimin’s brow furrowed. “My offer was rescinded at the last minute. The artist never said why, but I always got the feeling he had something to do with it.”

You stared at Jimin a moment, unsure how to respond. Jungkook hadn’t seemed like that kind of person, but you supposed you’d only talked to him for a few minutes. If that was true, what happened to Jimin sucked and yet, the next words from your mouth nearly had you face-palming.

“And here I thought I was your biggest rival, Park,” you said.

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Are you… jealous, Y/N?”

He sounded almost pleased by the notion, which sent a different kind of shiver down your spine.

“Not at all,” you said quickly, turning back to your drinks.

Jimin made a soft tsk-ing sound, as though he didn’t believe you.

“That sucks,” you continued, determined to change the subject. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah. Maybe it was all for the best, though. Things happen for a reason, right?”

Looking up, you caught Jimin’s stare. He didn’t look immediately away and you got the oddest sensation he meant more than what he said. Hastily, you pushed this feeling aside, clutching your drinks as you entered the main room. Jimin followed close behind, two cups in his hands.

“When did you get here?” you asked. “Been here long?”

Jimin shook his head. “Nah. Hoseok and I got here like, ten minutes ago. He should be around here somewhere, he –”

“Y/N!”

You looked up just in time to see Hoseok, Jimin’s roommate, barreling towards you.

“It’s been so long!” Crushing you to his chest, Hoseok wrapped you in a hug. “Hope Jimin isn’t boring you to death,” he stage-whispered before he pulled away.

“Just for that.” Jimin arched a brow. “Both these drinks are for me.”

“No – wait, wait. I’m sorry!” Hoseok pouted. “Hand over the drink, Park. It’s been the longest fucking week.”

Jimin grinned and relented, handing Hoseok his cup as you laughed. Hoseok was a newer friend, but he was close to Jimin, so he’d gradually bled into your latest gatherings. Despite not being on the ballet track, most of the dancers at Russet knew of him. Hoseok had that way about him.

Glancing down at your outfit, Hoseok held up a finger. “Let me guess – Blossom,” he said, turning to scan the room. “Which means… aha! Irene is Bubbles and Noelle is Buttercup. Makes sense.”

“And you are…” Pausing, you squinted at his outfit. “Someone at the spa?”

“Sure.” Hoseok shrugged. “Honestly, I just wanted to wear a bathrobe.”

Said bathrobe was paired with only boxers, the front of the robe open to display his toned abs. The costume didn’t surprise you, based on past interactions with Hoseok.

Casually, he twirled the robe tie in a circle. “Impressive, no?” Hoseok glanced away. “Whoa, wait – they have beer pong? See you all later!”

Hurrying off, he left you alone with Jimin. Shaking your head, you glanced in his direction and saw Jimin down his whole drink. Arching a brow, you were about to ask why when Irene called your names from across the room.

“Y/N!” She waved her hands. “Jimin! Get over here, you two – we need more for flip cup!”

You found yourself pulled in this direction despite your insistence you didn’t do well under pressure. Jimin ended up at the other end of the table and you lost sight of him when you started to play, paired with Jasmine for a partner.

By the end of the first round, you discovered you weren’t as horrible a player as you’d imagined. Then someone suggested mixed drinks for the second round, and things became fuzzier. There were more people present than just current students of Russet. One of Paulo’s roommates knew Seokjin, so you saw him in the room, along with Sana.

You chatted with both over the course of the evening, in addition to a guy who’d recently debuted on Broadway, Kim Taehyung. Apparently, there was already buzz around him for a Tony. Taehyung was nice, but it was sometime during this conversation you realized how tipsy you were. Apparently, not drinking for several months and then going ham made for very low tolerance.

Collapsing onto the couch, you joined Irene and Brian’s conversation. In the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Noelle – a terrible flip cup player, she’d roped Hoseok into giving her private lessons, but these seemed to be going terribly. Or perhaps very well, given how much the two of them were laughing.

You completely forgot about Jimin until you spotted him across the room talking to Sabrina. Seeing them together, you straightened. Both seemed fairly comfortable, which struck you as odd. Since that morning in Jimin’s dorm, you hadn’t really seen them hang out together.

Despite this, Jimin was laughing at something Sabrina had said. Tearing your gaze away, you forced yourself to focus on the conversation at hand. It didn’t matter who Jimin spoke to, or even who he decided to go home with tonight. He was your dance partner and friend, nothing more and besides – you had a boyfriend.

Blinking, you reached into your clutch and pulled out your phone. To your disappointment, you’d gotten no texts from Finn since this morning. You assumed he was still at his party but didn’t know for sure. Shooting him a text, hey, you waited for a response and when you got none, returned your phone to your purse.

Across the room, you heard Noelle yell your name. “Y/N!” She cupped her mouth with both hands. “We need another person for flip cup!”

Laughing, you pushed yourself from the couch and were immediately roped into your fourth game of the night. The night blurred again after that, turning into a pleasant hum of conversation and booze. At some point, Ubers were called to bring you to the club. As you rushed downstairs, you realized you forgot your coat as soon as you stepped outside.

Shivering violently, you rubbed your arms and cursed yourself for poor foresight.

“Y/N?” Jimin came to a stop alongside you. “Hey, where’s your coat?”

“Inside,” you said through chattering teeth. “I-it’s fine, though. I’m fine!”

Jimin gave you a look. “Where’s Paulo?” he said, glancing around. “I’ll grab him, we can get your coat before we go –”

“The Uber’s already here, though,” you argued, grabbing his sleeve to drag him towards the curb. “I’ll be fine from here to the club!”

Jimin sighed but gave in, following when you rushed to the grey SUV. Irene had claimed the front seat, so you and Jimin pulled open the middle door – Noelle and Hoseok were crowding behind you, so you and Jimin ended up together in the backseat.

Collapsed in a heap, you giggled as Jimin tried to squish himself in a corner. “Sorry,” he said, trying – and failing – to keep his knees separate.

“Jimin.” You snorted. “Are we going to go through this again? Your hands have been in way more inappropriate places than that this semester.”

Jimin’s lips parted, shocked, but you were already hoisting yourself over the middle seat. Draping your arms next to Noelle, you begged her to play your favorite song on the radio. Had you been more sober, you might’ve recognized your position to be precarious – perched on the edge of your seat, your ass hovered inches away from Jimin’s face.

Plopping back down, you glanced sideways at Jimin and found him frozen. Suddenly, you realized the visual he’d had.

“Um, so what happened to the teeth?” you blurted, determined to change the subject.

Jimin blinked and managed to meet your gaze. “Casualty of flip cup,” he said. “One of them fell out during the game and I couldn’t find where it rolled.”

“Well, that’s okay. You can just be one of those vampires who blend in with normal humans. You know, the kind whose fangs only come out when they want to bite someone.”

“That’s true.” Jimin arched a brow. “Lucky for you, I’m not hungry.”

“Lucky for me? Lucky for you,” you retorted. “My blood is about half alcohol right now. If you drank my blood, you’d be a very silly vampire.”

The idea of a silly vampire made you laugh – even more so when you pictured said vampire as Jimin. He seemed much too coherent for your liking right now.

“A silly vampire, huh?” Jimin looked on, amused. “Damn, Y/N – when was the last time you went out? Your tolerance is shit.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I haven’t drunk much this semester. Too much dance, too little time. I think the last time I went out was –”

“We’re here!” squealed Noelle, throwing open the door.

A blast of cold air hit you and you shivered, wishing you’d worn your coat. Jimin’s gaze remained steady on yours.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he said lowly. “I can give you, uh…”

“Your shirt?” you said dryly, lifting a brow as you brushed past. “Then you’d be shirtless, Park. Let’s think this through.”

Jimin chuckled before he followed suit, although you cursed as soon as you left the car. He was correct. It was freezing, even with your alcohol-induced blanket.

“Come on!” you yelped, following Noelle towards the entrance.

Bypassing the line, Noelle walked straight towards the bouncer and showed him her phone. He nodded and waved her past, counting your friend group who followed. Not everyone from Paulo’s place had gone to the club, but enough for you to make quite the entrance.

“Y/N!” Noelle doubled back to link arms with you. “Come on – this way! That guy’s going to show us to our table.”

“Table?” you asked her, wide-eyed.

Tables in a club on Halloween night were ridiculously expensive, but it seemed Noelle had downplayed her brother’s connections. Your group was led right to the front of the upper balcony, getting a coveted spot overlooking the dance floor below.

This was undeniably the coolest club you’d been in. Not that you’d been in many, mind you, but this one had to take the cake. A half-circle of tables took up the top floor, with twin staircases descending to the main room below. Most of the lower floor was for dancing, although you saw additional tables pushed to the sides. Fluorescent bars and dance platforms were dotted throughout and above all was the DJ booth, blasting the latest songs.

“Whoa,” you breathed.

Noelle grinned, squeezing your arm to pull you into the booth. As soon as you settled in, Jasmine leapt up and clapped her hands.

“I want to be in one of those!” she said, pointing to a glowing cage at the center of the dance floor.

“Oo, me too!” Irene leapt up to join her.

“Me, three!” said Paulo, clambering out of the booth.

“Awesome.” Irene beamed and glanced your way. “What about you, Y/N? You in?”

The idea was tempting for a moment, but then Finn flashed through your mind. You highly doubted he’d be on board with you gyrating for a room full of strangers without him. Somewhat dejectedly, you plopped back on the bench.

“That’s okay,” you sighed. “I think I’m going to stay here for a while. I’ll join you later!”

Irene frowned but nodded, following the rest when they left for the stairs. About half the group went, clearing out the table while you stared at the dance floor.

Jimin slid into the bench alongside you. “You don’t want to dance?”

Startled, you glanced in his direction. While you watched, Jimin began to undo his cuffs, casually rolling the sleeves of his shirt. His hair, which had been slicked back at the start of the night, was starting to fall. Several dark strands hung over his forehead, although this only seemed to make the look more appealing.

“No,” you said, crossing your legs. “I just… don’t really feel like it.”

“Is this the whole hating clubs thing again?”

“Kind of.” You laughed. “I don’t know. Club dancing isn’t like normal dancing, you know?”

“It is when you’re at the club with all dancers,” Jimin pointed out, nodding towards the floor.

Following his gaze, you saw Jasmine dancing full-out in a lit-up cage. She wasn’t so much gyrating as she was creating choreography on the fly. The mere mortals around her looked on in awe. Fighting a smile, you returned to Jimin.

“Okay, that does look like fun,” you admitted. “The last time I was at a club was with Finn.”

Jimin blinked. “Sorry – what?”

“In the cab,” you said, leaning closer in order to be heard. “You asked me when I last went out. It was that night… um, the night you came and picked me up.”

Jimin stared at you a moment, as though contemplating something important. Abruptly, he stood and held out a hand. You blinked at this like he’d offered a football.

“What are you doing?” you said, glancing up.

“Taking you down to the dance floor.” Jimin retracted said hand. “Come on, Y/N! You don’t have to give out dry lap dances, or whatever.”

“Hey!” In disbelief, your mouth fell open. “You said you’d forget all about that!”

His smile turned impish. “Seriously, we can just do the sprinkler, or something. It’ll be fun!”

“The sprinkler?” Starting to laugh, you stood. “Was that really the first move you thought of?”

“Nah. My go-to move is the criss-cross, but I figured this was more your speed.”

Snorting, you shoved him in the arm before following Jimin to the dance floor. It didn’t take you long to spot your other friends, clustered near the front and around the DJ booth.

“Y/N!” Noelle cheered, breaking off from the pack. “You made it!”

She nearly spilled her drink while she danced, catching herself just in time as she spun around. You grinned, entering the circle with Jimin by your side. He did, in fact, pull out the criss-cross – Hoseok joined in and soon, there was a Fortnite dance battle between them. You truly haven’t lived until you’ve seen a TikTok dance-off between two semi-professional dancers.

This ended with both declaring mutual defeat, and Hoseok disappearing to buy the next round. Noelle shimmied her way over to Jasmine, accepting the hand given to stand on the platform.

You laughed at their ridiculous dance moves, choosing instead to stay on the ground. The crowd around you had thinned since you’d joined. Eamon disappeared a few minutes later, saying something about needing a drink upstairs. Before long, Irene had joined Jasmine and Noelle on the platform, leaving you alone with Jimin on the floor.

Under other circumstances, you might have felt uncomfortable, but Jimin was so good at putting you at ease. Determined to keep you in the present, he came up with more and more complicated dance moves which had you snorting with laughter.

On a particularly flamboyant spin, Jimin accidentally smacked the drink from someone’s grasp. Blue vodka splattered everywhere, drenching its owner – a burly man in leather who snarled in frustration.

Looking up, he met your gaze and his eyes narrowed.

“Shit. Run!” you blurted out.

Grabbing Jimin by the arm, you dragged him into the crowd.

“No, wait – let me apologize!” Jimin tried to twist around. “I can pay for his drink! I can –”

Once there was suitable distance between you and the guy, you came to a stop. Laughing so hard you nearly fell over, you turned sideways to face him.

Bodies pressed against you from every side but rather than feel claustrophobic, all you could think about was Jimin before you. His hair had become thoroughly mussed during the night and you fought the sudden desire to smooth it down.

Although your breath came hard, the club around you seemed to slow. The music somehow had narrowed to pinpricks, a heady thump of bass while everything dulled.

What you should’ve done was taken a step back – but you didn’t.

Instead, your gaze drifted across his face. Jimin stared back, something intense to his gaze you couldn’t quite name. Breath caught in your throat, his eyes dropped to your lips.

Before you could react, someone bumped into you from behind, sending you careening forward. Jimin caught you easily, one arm around your waist and your chest pressed to his. You could feel every hard line of his body, his thigh wedged between your legs while you grasped at his arms. Heart thudding traitorously against your ribcage, you tried to ignore the emotions which followed.

It was impossible.

The song playing was slower, sexier than the one which had inspired the dance-off. Without meaning to, your weight subtly shifted. This caused your hips to move against his as Jimin quietly sucked in a breath. The effect this had on him was instantaneous. His grip on you tightened, gaze heady with desire and something more. Before you could second-guess what you were doing, you moved your hips again – this time, on purpose.

Jimin’s eyes darkened. Without looking away, his grip on you tightened as he slowly dragged you up his thigh. Suddenly breathless, your hands gripped him tighter while your eyes fluttered shut. The heat of his body on yours, the faint smell of cologne and sweat, the tension in his limbs and the knowledge of what he could do to you – it all left your head spinning.

“Y/N,” Jimin murmured, low in your ear.

You weren’t used to him saying your name like that.

You were used to him saying your name in every other way, but not that. Sharp with dancer’s critique, brusque with instruction, light with teasing – but not like something heavy was lodged in his throat. Maybe his heart.

Panicked, your eyes flew open.

What were you doing? This wasn’t some random stranger and this sure as hell wasn’t your boyfriend. This was Jimin. Stumbling backwards, you broke from his hold. Jimin seemed equally stunned, staring at you on the dance floor.

“I have to go,” you blurted and whirled around.

Shoving into the crowd, you heard Jimin emit a soft groan. Despite this, he didn’t immediately pursue, for which you were grateful. Stumbling through strangers, strobe lights flashed brightly overhead. You squeezed between someone dressed as a go-go and another person dressed as a werewolf. Skidding to a stop on the edge of the floor, you scanned the room and saw no one from Russet.

When you glanced over your shoulder, you saw Jimin now followed. Panicking again, you began to move. Beside one of the bars, you spotted a hallway labeled restrooms. Heading in this direction, you quickly disappeared inside the door marked women.

Once inside, you locked yourself in a stall, lowered the lid and sat down. Head in hands, you slowly exhaled. You were a coward; that much was clear. Jimin was probably out there looking for you right now, but you’d rather hide in a bathroom than face him.

The fluorescent lighting overhead was too bright – it made you feel overexposed. After a long moment, you fished around in your purse and pulled out your phone. Flipping to your thread with Finn, you saw he’d sent no response since your text. Complete and utter silence.

Heart cracking a little, you slid this in your bag and stared at the door. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. When you imagined you and Finn at college, you’d always pictured you together, attending the same parties and sharing the same adventures. Tonight though, had proven to be anything but that. Finn hadn’t once glanced at his phone judging by the unread mark next to your text.

Dimly, you wondered why you weren’t more upset about this. It should bother you that Finn hadn’t called or even texted throughout the day. Sure, he was out with friends, but so were you and you’d reached out – as soon as you thought this, your heart sank.

You weren’t sure you could call Jimin a friend after what had just happened.

Sure, you’d only danced, and it had only been for a second but still, guilt bloomed behind your ribcage. The idea of Finn doing the same thing with anyone else made your heart twist. You wouldn’t feel that way if what you’d done wasn’t wrong.

Groaning out loud, you lowered your head to your hands. After several minutes, you felt calm enough to stand and pretend-flush the toilet. As you exited the stall, you walked to the sink and began washing your hands. Staring at yourself in the mirror, a million things ran through your mind.

Clearly, the situation with Jimin was worse than you’d thought. The spark you’d felt kept returning, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. Maybe the only solution was to find a new partner. The very idea made your heart sink, but you couldn’t deny things had gotten out of hand.

Before you could seriously consider the option, the door to the bathroom flung open and banged against the wall. Sabrina stormed in, wiping both eyes with the heel of her hand. You froze, staring at her in the mirror but she didn’t seem to notice your presence.

When she finally lowered her hands and took a deep breath, she saw you and froze.

For a moment, you both only stared at each other and then – you coughed. Awkwardly, you began to dry your hands.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tentative.

Sabrina stiffened. “I’m fine,” she muttered, walking to the sink.

You watched her wash her hands, struggling and failing to control her expression. Sabrina’s hair was a mess and you stared, wondering where she’d been. You hadn’t seen her since you’d entered the club, but had assumed she’d stayed on the second floor.

“Are you sure?” you pressed, remembering your night at the other club. “You know, you can –”

“Will you… just stop.” Sabrina closed her eyes. “Will you … stop pretending like we’re friends, or something?”

Struck with disbelief, you could only stare. “I… are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.” You shook your head. “Just wow.”

Her lips tightened and finally, she whirled around. “What?” Sabrina demanded. “What is it?”

The look in her eyes was familiar. Her frustrated, angry look was mirrored in your expression, but you found you didn’t care. Sabrina was clearly going through something, but her rudeness to you was the final straw. Tired from Finn, Jimin and the constant pressure you were both under, something about Sabrina’s words made you break.

“Why are you always such a… such a bitch,” you blurted, hurling the word like a knife. “What did I ever do to you? Why do you always act like you hate me so much?”

Sabrina’s upper lip curled. “Why do you always think this is about you, Y/N? Maybe I just wanted one second of peace and instead, here you are. Like always.”

“Here I am, in the public restroom of a club we’re all at?”

“No. Here you are in my life,” she snapped, pushing herself from the sink. “People won’t talk to me? It’s because you’ve run your mouth about things you think I’ve done. I’m falling in the class ranks? It’s because you’re after my spot. Jimin doesn’t want to be my partner? It’s because of his feelings for you. I’m sick of turning around and always seeing you there!”

“Okay, but none of those things – I, Jimin doesn’t have feelings for me,” you sputtered.

Sabrina gave you a look. “Oh, please, Y/N.” Her laughter was harsh. “Why else would he turn me down?”

“Um, maybe because he’s a decent human being? Unlike yourself.”

“Great, yeah.” Sabrina glared. “Make me the bad guy again.”

“I’m not the one doing that,” you huffed. “You are. You want to blame me because no one wants to be your friend? Maybe try reaching out first. Maybe don’t talk shit about people behind their backs. And I’m improving because I’m taking extra lessons. No thanks to you, of course.”

“Don’t try and make me feel bad because I didn’t have time to give you lessons.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m trying to explain why I’m improving and you’re not.”

Sabrina bristled. “Are you saying I don’t work hard, too?”

“No.” Mirthless, you laughed. “I know you work hard – maybe even as hard as I do. But you know what the big difference is between you and me?” you said, drawing yourself to your full height.

Sabrina’s eyes glimmered while she stared you down. Still, she retained her aloofness when she said, “What? What’s the big secret?”

“You think everyone’s out to get you,” you said, stepping closer. “You think not asking for help makes you stronger, but it’s the exact opposite. At least I’ve improved since the start of the year. What have you done?”

Not waiting for an answer, you pushed past Sabrina and walked out the door.

Shoving it wide, you entered the hallway. Dance music flooded your senses and you winced, remembering where you were and what you’d been doing. Luckily, Jimin was nowhere in sight. He must not have seen where you’d disappeared to.

Shoulders slumping, you pulled out your phone and dialed a number. Walking to the front, you concentrated on breathing while you waited for them to pick up. Coming to a stop beside coat check, you didn’t leave the club – a lesson you’d learned the hard way.

Noelle answered on the third ring. “Babe?” she yelled, barely audible over the din. “What’s going on? Where are you?”

“Are you…” Closing your eyes, you paused. “Can we leave?”

Noelle paused, then muffled her phone with one hand. “Irene!” you heard her yell. “You good to get a ride home for these people? Okay, cool. Bye!” Her phone became un-muffled. “Where are you, babe?”

After explaining your location, you hung up and hugged yourself with both arms. Noelle burst into view a few moments later, scanning the crowd like a mom on a mission. When she saw you, she rushed over – and you promptly burst into tears.

“Oh, no!” Pulling you into a hug, Noelle began to rub your back. “No, no, babe! Don’t cry! What’s going on? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”

Hearing Jimin’s words said by Noelle only made you cry harder. Wisely sensing this to be a problem not easily solved, Noelle continued rubbing your back while walking towards the exit.

The two of you went outside and, as luck would have it, saw a group of people arriving at the club. Noelle snagged their taxi, helping you in the backseat and giving the driver your address. As you settled against her, your head on her shoulder, Noelle kept rubbing your arm and waited for the tears to stop.

You weren’t really sure why you were crying.

Of course, Sabrina was terrible, as was the situation with Jimin, but it was more than that. Dancing with Jimin hadn’t caused problems in your relationship with Finn. There had been problems in your relationship Finn and so, feelings had crept in which led you to dance with Jimin.

More than that though, you couldn’t help but notice Noelle had come to your aid much faster than Finn ever had. Even Jimin had dropped everything when you asked, and he was someone you’d once called your enemy. Noelle had been having fun, but she’d cut her night short because you were upset. This knowledge crushed you and for the very first time, you realized your relationship with Finn might be unfixable.

Curled up on the backseat, you let yourself cry a bit more. You could be calm and rational in the morning, you decided but for now, you just felt defeated.

When you finally climbed into bed at your dorm at night, you looked at your phone and saw Finn still hadn’t texted.

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

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST

#bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin au #bts au #jimin writing #bts writing #jimin series #jimin e2l #bts series #bts e2l #jimin dance au #bts dance au

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justapurrcat · 3 years ago

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anastasia au with Tom as dimitri? 👀

Tom + one of my absolute favourite films/musicals ever (the title of my blog kinda gives it away, huh?) + my no.1 dream role??? I’ll have you know that you just opened a Pandora Box... no seriously, I could go on and on for literal hours about this.

Dimitri was probably my first crush EVER. And have you seen Derek Klena in the Broadway musical??? 👀👀👀

And the fact that Tom has a musical background... sir, would you just audition for the role already???

A dashing, sassy con-man with perfect hair who acts all tough but secretly has a heart of gold??? Oh yes, sign me up.

Picture him eyeing you up and being very impressed by the resemblance...

... yeah, just like that 😏😏😏

Anya!reader having a cat and Tom whining "I’m allergic to cats!!!" (because I am a cat-lady and I don’t have the heart to make him say that he’s allergic to dogs 🥺) like the big man-child he is when she refuses to leave them behind;

Tom in a snow field with snowflakes in his hair and red cheeks and a red nose bc of the cold (he would be so adorable!!!)

The banter??? 10/10. "I don’t like being contradicted!" "That makes two of us!" / "This one, Vlad? I get it, there’s a vague resemblance, but... oh. Oh." "Why are you circling me? Were you a volture in another life?!" / "I’ve seen longshoremen more graceful than you." "Says the one who just walked into a mirror."

The princess training??? "Keep your posture!" "Where did you learn that?" "... I didn’t teach her... She’s a natural!" "Is that how you drink tea?" "Now elbows in and sit up straight!""Your hand receives a kiss..." 🥰;

Dance practice with Tom...

Bonus: "Where did you learn to dance like that?" "Wouldn’t you like to know, darling..." yes, I had to put the "darling" in this somehow;

🎶("I never should’ve let them... daaaaaance...")🎶;

Paris. With. Tom. *enter THE video he posted, you know the one I’m talking about 😏*

But then it ends on a kinda sad note because... "Paris holds the key to her past / Yes, Princess, I've found you / At last. / No more pretend / You'll be gone, / That's the end..." *pterodactyl screech*

Him breaking into Anya!reader’s room in the middle of the night because he heard her screams and he’s READY TO FIGHT TO PROTECT HER and then he stays with her to calm her down after her nightmare;

... and then they talk, and he understands she is Anastasia and that makes him realize he’s been in love with her since he first saw her when they were kids and right as he’s about to kiss her he steps back and kneels before her (literally copied this from the musical version and I don’t regret it bc it’s probably my favourite scene)

Also, him saying "Your Imperial Highness" with that wonderful voice/accent of his???

And Anya!reader playing it cool, but secretly dying inside, like "... but I wanted to make-out..."

The staircase scene SHUT UP!!! Reader all dolled up and him staring at her like... "Uhm... yes... hello... pls, would you kindly husband me up? Right now, if possible?";

Watching ballet together and him holding Anya!reader’s hand because she’s terrified of meeting the Dowager Empress 🥺;

The fight, the separation, but then he comes back to her, and then they run away together AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH 🥺😍

OMG I WANT TO WRITE THIS PLS HELP ME

Whoever sent this, I love you 💜

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland angst #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x fem!reader #dimitri!tom holland x anastasia!reader #anastasia!au #concept #headcanon #answered #anon

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five-rivers · 4 years ago

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Changeling Chapter 1

A DP Fae Au fic. I've been promising you this for so long XD. I can hardly believe I'm finally delivering, even if it's only one chapter for now.

Chapter 1: In the Beginning, There Was an Offer

They studied legends. According to those legends, today, Beltane, was a time of renewal, of birth, of fertility.

It was not supposed to be… this. Their dreams weren’t supposed to be crushed today. Not under this sun, not under these blue skies and among softly blooming flowers.

This kind of news should have come with rain. It should have come with storms.

Maddie wiped tears out of her eyes and Jack patted her on the back. The air smelled sweet and dusty at the same time. The bench was uncomfortable.

“We could try adoption,” said Jack. He sounded shocked, too. Drained. His voice was pulled taught over a great hollowness. “Lots of people adopt. We can- can do some good in the world, maybe.”

Maddie sniffed and cried harder. She’d wanted her own children, and Jack knew it. Adoption was all very well and good, but at this point the suggestion felt like some consolation prize, and she felt terrible for even thinking it was, because Jack was right, it could be a good thing, and…

She wanted children. Her own children.

“Excuse me, I believe I can help.”

There was something about how he said that, about how the voice wound and slipped through her ears that had Maddie’s head snapping up. The man who stood to the side of the bench wore a long coat with a deep hood. Symbols, symbols that Maddie had spent hours, days, weeks, researching were stitched into the fabric. His eyes glittered in the shadows. The fingers of his hands, clasped in front of him, were too long, their coloring faintly lavender, as if they had been dipped in ink and retained the stain even after they’d been washed clean.

This was not a human.

“How?” asked Maddie, feeling hope drip back into her limbs even as Jack tensed behind her. “How can you help?”

“We shouldn’t have done that,” said Jack as they drove home. “We really shouldn’t have done that. Maddie, they’re evil, there’s always a catch and it’ll always be looking for a way to push us into it.”

“The catch is in the open,” said Maddie, leaning back against the seat of the car and closing her eyes. “It isn’t as if it’s in the fine print and we’re going to stumble into it. We have one, and then I get my tubes tied, or you get snipped, and we go on with our lives.”

“What if we have twins? Triplets? Maddie, we should have talked about this.”

“There wasn’t any time,” Maddie said defensively. “I had to decide right away.”

“What are we going to do if we have twins, Maddie?”

Maddie bit her lip, her eyes opening without her full permission as she thought. “We know how to deal with things like him.”

The car jerked just a little to the right as Jack failed to suppress his flinch. “Do you remember our work on motivations? On why they take artists, musicians, children?” he asked. He forged on without waiting for an answer. “Creative sterility, we called it. For this one to be able to cure sterility, he has to be powerful. I don’t think nails in pockets and inside-out clothing is going to stop him.”

Such protections were hit and miss to begin with. One faerie might hate bread, another might love it. The sound of bells would drive off one, and another would wear them in their hair. Even cold iron was no guarantee against them.

“We’ll have to find something better, then,” she said, firmly.

Maddie laughed. Not a twin. A single child showed on the ultrasound monitor. A girl. A beautiful baby girl. Perfect.

On the other side of the bed, Jack sunk into a chair, obviously relieved. “She’s healthy?” he asked the OB/GYN.

“Completely,” she said. “This is quite the miracle the two of you put together here.” She shook her head. “We must have gotten something wrong during our examination. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am to have put you through all that, and I won’t blame you if you wanted to find a new doctor.”

“It’s fine,” said Maddie, patting the woman’s arm. “It happens.” Yes, being approached by a powerful fae just ‘happened.’ “The important thing now is to make sure there aren’t any complications.”

They made sure Jazz was born on a Sunday, with two middle names, one of which Maddie made sure to forget. They scheduled her baptism for as early a date as possible, even though both Jack and Maddie were as lapsed as it was possible to be.

Precautions.

Jack had his surgery only a month later.

They were safe. They had won.

The family of three snuggled together on the couch. Well, Jazz snuggled inasmuch as a newborn was able. They watched TV.

“Jack, dear,” said Maddie, roused to awareness by a news story about a rising young businessman. “Is that our Vlad?”

Jack blinked at the screen. “I think you’re right,” said Jack. “I haven’t seen him since college. I don’t think we’ve talked to him since college.” He frowned. “Did something happen? The three of us used to be so close… He was the only one in the whole folklore department that would put up with our theories, do you remember?”

“I don’t know,” said Maddie, trying to remember. “It was like he was there one day, gone the next.”

“Do you think he’ll mind us getting back in touch?”

“Only one way to find out.”

(As it turned out, Vlad did not particularly care to get back in touch.)

Jazz was not a normal child.

She saw too much. She understood too much. Her teeth grew in early. She learned how to get the milk out of the fridge at about the same time she learned how to walk. Her eyes were too large, even for her age. She didn’t start talking until she was almost two, and when she did, it was in complete sentences. She took to responsibility like a duck to water. No, she demanded responsibility, from waking up the family in the morning to answering the door. She loved rules and games, and the rules of games.

But they had never raised a child before. Perhaps this was simply how they were. Perhaps this was within the expected variety of humanity.

Most importantly, Jazz was theirs. Completely.

Maddie was not terribly concerned when her period missed a few days, or even when it was late by a week. But when it started pushing two…

She bought a test.

It came back positive.

Danny’s birth was different from Jazz’s in almost every particular. Instead of being infused with a sense of joy, proceedings were overshadowed by dread. Jazz had been born in a hospital. Danny would be born at home, behind every ward and protection Jack and Maddie could conceive of. The midwife they hired was more than used to odd belief systems and threw a few of her own traditions in as well.

It couldn’t hurt.

It didn’t help.

After the birth, Maddie held Danny in her arms. He’d been born in a caul, which had been slightly alarming, even though Maddie had known that it was a thing that happened regularly, and that, by most accounts, it was lucky.

He was such a tiny little thing. Smaller than Jazz. Which made sense, he was a little premature.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” she promised him, whispering into the silky, wispy curls on top of his head.

Someone knocked on the door. Maddie jerked her head up, even though the front door wasn’t at all visible from the basement. Jack flinched hard enough to drop the towels he was holding. The midwife froze.

“Hospitality,” croaked Maddie. Those rules were always humanity’s first defense against the uncanny. Don’t want something in your house? In your life? Don’t invite it in.

Although, she had arguably already invited in the fae they were worried about. Hence all the other contingencies.

The knock came again. And again, louder.

Jack let out a sigh of relief. “It can’t get in,” he murmured. Then he smiled, broad and bright. “We just have to wait it out.”

Maddie nodded, tears in her eyes. The knocking continued. This was far from ideal, obviously, but she’d been half expecting the fae to simply rip through the wards like tissue paper.

Perhaps the theory that more powerful fae were more bound by custom, more vulnerable to their weaknesses, held water? She and Jack had always dismissed it as fanciful, but they’d never been able to gather evidence before.

Then, a sound that made her heart stop.

“I’ll get it!” called Jazz, childish voice muffled by distance and the obstacle of the floors above. She’d been told not to answer the door when Danny was being born, to wait patiently in her room, but for all her unusual maturity, she was only three.

Faster than she’d ever seen him move, Jack bolted for the stairs, pushing aside several pieces of furniture and medical equipment in his haste. He took the stairs four at a time and nearly taking the door off the hinges.

He wasn’t fast enough.

“Who are you, mister?”

“Me?” said a voice Maddie had prayed against ever hearing again. “I am your uncle, my dear. Did your parents not tell you about me?”

Jazz tipped her head to one side and stared up at the man, making her eyes extra big. She knew it made a lot of people uncomfortable when she looked at them like that, so she treated it as a kind of test.

The man smiled, kind and patient. He was kind of funny looking, but in a good way.

“No,” she said finally. “Are you Mommy’s brother or Daddy’s brother?”

“Ah, you already know about uncles, then. I was worried I’d have to explain. May I come in? I would like to greet your little brother, as your parents promised I could. I have gifts for both of you.”

Jazz liked gifts. “Okay,” she said. “But I dunno if Danny’s been born yet. Mommy said it can take a while. And I dunno if he can have gifts, yet. He’s gonna be really little. That’s what all my books say, and also the internet.”

“Jazz! Don’t!”

Jazz turned to see her Daddy skid around the corner, just as her uncle stepped across the threshold.

“Not quite on time, I fear,” said uncle. “Young Jazz has already let me in.” He patted Jazz on the head. She ducked away and stuck her tongue out, like she always did when Daddy did that. “Having greeted my niece, I would like to see my nephew.”

The fae did walk past the rest of the wards as if they weren’t even there. It didn’t even break them, just ignored them. Some of them he even commented on, as if approving.

He gazed down at Danny with his otherworldly eyes. The midwife had retreated to the corner of the room, refusing to look at what was happening. Jack had attempted to attack the fae with his bare hands, only to be pushed away with something approaching gentleness by an invisible wall. Maddie didn’t know where Jazz was. Upstairs, somewhere, hopefully.

“So beautiful,” the fae said, brushing Danny’s forehead with his off-color fingers. Faster than Maddie could react, he had a pair of scissors in his hand and was cutting off a lock of hair. “A lovely child.” The lock of Danny’s hair disappeared into the fae’s coat.

If Maddie didn’t know better, she’d call the expression on the fae’s face love. But she did know better. Love was as incomprehensible to the fae as fae laws were to humans, so she’d call it by its true name: avarice.

She tightened her grip on Danny, as if she could keep the fae from plucking him from her arms.

“Not now,” said the fae, after another moment. “Soon, I should think.” It ran a hand over Danny’s head. “Soon.” The fae looked up, meeting Maddie’s eyes. “I will return,” he said, “in one year.”

“For what?” demanded Maddie, unwilling to get her hopes up.

The fae blinked slowly. “For his birthday.” He tilted his head. “To determine whether or not he is ready. Perhaps, also, to visit my niece.”

“You stay away from Jazz!” snarled Maddie. “You have no claim on her.”

The fae merely shrugged, then smiled, slyly. “She does, however, have a claim on me. I promised her gifts, before your husband whisked her away.”

“Gifts,” repeated Maddie, hoarsely.

“For the sister of my child, yes,” said the fae, voice and face as calm and even as ever. “Would you ask me to forswear myself?”

“Then,” said Maddie, “you can leave them here, with us.”

“You will give them to her?”

“Yes,” said Maddie, through her teeth. She did not say how long she would let Jazz be in the presence of these ‘gifts.’

“Very well, then,” said the fae, pulling a number of boxes out from beneath his coat. “One year. Be prepared.”

And, with that, the fae faded from view, as if he had been an illusion all along.

Danny was still with them. Their son was still with them. Still theirs.

“One year,” she said, breathless. “Only one year.”

“One whole year,” corrected Jack, rushing to her side. “You’ll see, Maddie. Next time, that fae won’t know what hit him!”

“One whole year,” echoed Maddie, weakly.

“One year to prepare,” said Jack. “Look what we did with half that time! We’re Fentons! We can do it!”

“We can do it,” breathed Maddie. “One year. We’ll be ready.”

Jack nodded, firmly. “We’ll be ready.”

#danny phantom #dannymay #dannymay 2021 #dannymay 2021 day 30: fantasy #fae au #changeling #dp fae au

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tempist-flower · 3 years ago

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Do you think you could do Vladdy in a soulmate au? I rarely ever see those.

Ooooo this took me a while cause I had to find a scenario that would fit him.

The red string of fate attaches itself to a person once they turn 16. However his never appeared on his 16th nameday. Vlad assumed he was one of the few who simply didn't have a soulmate.

Was he jealous? A bit at first. Everyone else got to have a person born just for them, but as the years went by he stopped caring. Especially once he became immortal. He saw it as another way for God to turn his back on him.

Imagine his surprise when he returned 30 years later to see a thin, dim red string attached to his pinky. He thought it was a joke, maybe a trick of the light and maybe it would go away. But no matter how much he stared and tried to ignore it, it never faltered.

Why now though? After 500 and some years did his string finally appear? Could it be that his partner simply wasn't around yet? Did he really have to wait this long? He was putting too much thought into this and it was easier to ignore it all.

That was until he noticed that one day it seemed brighter then normal. That brightness increased until he knew they had to be close. His curiosity got the better of him and he started to subtly look for them.

Of course his curiosity was rewarded and led him to one of his favorite hunting grounds.

His S/O was just as confused as he was. When they turned 16, their string was black. A telltale sign that their soulmate had already passed. The constant condolences they received was as annoying as it was awkward.

They considered following the black thread to their deceased soulmate's grave, but that would be awkward wouldn't it? It wasn't like they knew them. They were curious about who their soulmate was. When and how they died. But never acted on it. That black string was a constant reminder of their "bad luck" though.

Over the years they lived their life, a few months away from entering their 30's. Dating others here and there but never anything long lasting or serious. Until one night they decided to go on a blind date at a night club.

Things were going alright, despite the fact they were getting a bad vibe from their date. It wasn't until an announcement made by the DJ that things really started to feel... off.

Many couple went out to the dance floor, including them and their date. Despite their protests they agreed to one dance before leaving for the night. Bodies were packed together so tightly on the dance floor there was hardly room to move.

After a few minutes a scream tore through the air. Then another, and another. People panicked and started running, trampling over others to get away. Once the crowd cleared they saw why people were running. A few people were being held down while others were, biting them? All they could really make out the growing amount of blood as the victims struggles died out.

They too tried to run, only to be pinned down by their "date". They flashed a huge grin, exposing their enlarged canines. They tried begging and pleading only to have their mouth covered and their pleas becoming muffled. But before they could do anything a gunshot rang out, even over the loud music.

More screaming rang out as bullets tore through the monsters in human skin. Their "date" let them go in an effort to run away. They didn't get far at all, they too were shot down quickly. Their hot blood spraying over them, leaving them thoroughly scared and in shock.

A pair of black boots appeared in their line of sight after a moment. When did things get so quiet? Their eyes continued to travel upwards to theirr would be savoir, or executioner. They never made it to the strangers face.

Their eyes stopped at their hands, clad in white gloves and both carrying very large handguns. But that wasn't what caught their attention. Attached to one hand was a very bright string of red. A string that not only pointed to themselves, but seemed to connect to the black string on their own hand.

"This wasn't how I expected us to meet." His voice was deep yet gentle, prompting them to look up at the man in front of them. His clothes were surprisingly spotless considering the carnage around them. His long wavy hair almost seem to flow around him as he gazed down at you.

Slowly his mustached lip split into a smile as he put the guns away. His bright red eyes seemed to gaze into their very soul as he knelt down to their level, careful not to startle them.

"We have much to discuss, my dear."

#i have a bad habit of rambling im sorry #its been a while before i had rime to wrote i feel rusty #hellsing ultimate #vladcard #hellsing vlad

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dannyphantom-rewrite · 4 years ago

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Timekeeper's assistants AU

Alright y'all! This is gonna be my info dump post for the Timekeepers assistant Au- buckle up cause it's gonna be a long one!

Inspired by @queendibz post here

The entire purpose of the assistant squad is to keep all the time lines running smoothly- this can range from stopping a world ending event to making sure things misplaced by natural ghost portals get put back into the right time and place.

So First up on the crew list,

Dan:

-Dan definitely isn't a homicidal maniac anymore but he's not 100 percent "redeemed" either.

-I mean he's probably still a bit of sadist but he tries not to be?

-The best description I can give is that he's in recovery, basically.

-So, Clockwork knew that Dan would eventually bust out of the thermos just because it wasn't built to hold a ghost of his power level for a prolonged period of time. But beyond that?? He has no idea about anything in regards to Dan. Since Dan's creation was averted, his timeline doesn't exist anymore. He's a paradox that exists outside of time, and unfortunately, that means he's the one entity in the multiverse that exists in Clockwork's blindspot. There's no way for him to know what Dan's going to do next.

-Anyway, Dan eventually breaks out of the thermos fully intending to Fuck Shit Up, And Clockwork makes a point of informing him that if he leaves the clock tower he will cease to exist. (Like Dan, the tower exists outside of time, so he's safe there.)

-Dan is the first member of the assistant squad. Granted, it took a while for him to come around to the idea of helping Clockwork but he got there eventually.

-Dan is an entity that was born out of the rage and grief of two very broken people and he has so much shit he's working through as a result

-One of the first things he had to do was recognize and accept that he's an entity that's completely separate from Vlad and Danny. He might have all their memories and the weight of their mistakes on his shoulders, and on top of that, the atrocities he himself committed because of them. The first step is realizing that he doesn't have to be defined by the people that made him.

-It's a really fucking difficult thing to do tho and he's got a lot of weird emotions in regards to Vlad, Danny and the Fentons as a result. A near constant identity crisis, self loathing, daddy issues, something that could arguably be called an Oedipus complex, (FUCKING THANKS, VLAD)

-Cannot stand the smell of fast food, it makes him nauseous and the sight of Nasty Burger sauce alone is enough to make him vomit Ectoplasm.

-He's just a hot mess all around y'all

-He tries to keep his interactions with the Danny's as minimal as possible at first bc of this. The first time he meets them in person he shape shifts into Danny like he did in TUE and just pretends to be one of them. Some of them have had interactions with their respective Dan's already and would be super wary of him and probably pretty freaked out otherwise.

-Dan is eventually allowed to leave the clocktower for supervised "Field missions" with the aid of a time medallion to keep him from poofing out of existence, but it takes a while for clockwork to build up that level of trust.

-Dan's shapeshifting ability Actually comes into play a bit on a lot of those missions, since he can Mimic Danny it also makes sense that he'd be able to impersonate Vlad in the same way. Granted he's not incredibly comfortable taking on either of their appearances but it does help him hone his shapeshifting ability to the point where he's able to pick and choose features from both Vlad and Danny and sorta make his own human disguise.

-Most of the time he acts as the eye in the sky from the tower, monitoring for timeline anomalies and then notifying the appropriate member of the assistant squad.

-He has a room under the clock tower that he operates from. I kinda like the idea of there being like, catacombs down there? Anyway he's got all kinds of monitors and view screens and he very rarely leaves. It also doubles as his "living space." He doesn't need to sleep but he's got a big mess of a pillow fort that he crashes in regardless bc sometimes you just NEED to be unconscious for a while. The catacombs are also absolutely full of those little blob ghosts that wander around the zone bc They're attracted to the ecto energy the tower gives off. He's really annoyed by them at first but they grow on him after a while and now he just dotes on them.

-There's a specific throw pillow sized one that likes to hang out in Dan's room a lot and he ended up getting a little over attached to the stupid thing. His name is Dorian. Bc he's a gift.

-SIR THATS MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT BLOB

-Dan's appearance has changed slightly. He wears his hair loose now and it's kinda just this big fiery mane when it's not contained. His cape is more of a cloak now, it has a hood and he wears it sorta pinned together at the shoulder so the DP logo is covered.

-Dan's relationship with the rest of the Danny's is kinda weird, and a little strained. He has a hard time being around them for very long because, well, he used to sort of be them? Except not really? He does care about them tho, and the last thing he'd want is for one of them to end up like him.

-His relationship with clockwork definitely starts out pretty familial, after he becomes his assistant, anyway. There's room for that to develop into meddling minutes but I'm not entirely sure if I'm gonna go that route yet.

-The Danny's only ever hear his voice for a while before he finally let's them meet him for real, so they end up calling him Charlie for a while as a joke. Cause Ya know. Charlie's angels. Even after Charlie still ends up being his designated name on missions.

Mer! Danny:

-Was recruited bc a lot of the shit that gets sucked through natural portals ends up in a body of water somewhere and when that happens he's on call to retrieve it.

-Is Actually not at all ghostly! Mer Danny's situation is basically the plot of H2O (just add water), or if you haven't seen that, Aquamarine. And by that I mean he's only a merfolk in water.

-He's an electric eel

-His Jack and Maddie are marine biologists, with a particular interest in marine cryptids

-We're taking sea monsters baby!!!

-Not entirely sure how this Danny ended up half mer yet but I'll figure it out, lmao.

-14 years old

-His nickname/ designation is "Moray"

Crown Prince! Danny:

-Nickname/designation is Prince / Princey

-16 years old

-Not allowed to go anywhere in the zone without the Fright knight bc of some ancient ghost law bullshit, so he has a constant babysitter.

-He's next in line bc he sealed away Pariah, but can't take the throne until he is both, A) at least 18 years and B) Completely deceased

-Vlad is his Regent bc he did have a part in the whole sealing the previous king thing, but he's also not completely dead so his power is super limited there.

-As Prince Danny has the crown of fire in his ghost form, although now the name is kinda ironic seeing as it's completely frozen over. It's blue now and it smokes like dry ice.

-As Regent, Vlad has the ring of rage for "safe keeping"

-Vlad and Danny are pretty much constantly at each other's throats, fright knights probably had to shut down more than a few of Vlad's attempts to usurp the crown from Danny through combat.

-Princey deals with the timeline issues that involve the ghost zones' internal / political affairs, and he's gotten very well versed with dealing with the Observants.

Winged! Danny :

-15 years old

-Mallard duck wings

-His Vlad is a swan

-Comes from a family of waterfowl, Jack is a goose, and Maddie is a white swan. Both he and jazz are ducks bc of their grandparents.

-As Fenton his wings are white, like jazz, and as phantom they turn black with a green iridescent sheen.

-He's trans

-Nickname/ designation is inviso Bill. Bc ducks have bills haha get it-

-Ghostly wail?? Nah son he's gotta killer QUACK

-Absolute besties with Mer!Danny/ Moray, sometimes they go swimming together after a mission.

Clone! Danny:

-Physically he's a 12-year-old, but he's only been alive for a few months.

-Alt universe where Vlad manages to stabilize the perfect clone with his own DNA.

-Dani still exists, and the original danny from his time line also rescued the other problematic clones.

-Doesnt like the fact that he's a clone, and very much wants them all DEAD. Bc them running around is a reminder that he's not the real danny.

-Human half looks the same aside from the widows peak and the mallen streak. His ghost half takes after plasmius. Blue skin, and the Hazmat kept it's original white colors.

-Probably has fangs and a forked tounge.

-Not so much a member of the squad as he is someone that they need to be keeping an eye on.

-Does NOT get along with them.

-Dan enjoys making him uncomfortable.

-Designation is Masters / the brat (not to his face tho)

Family Breakfast AU! Danny:

-A BABY

-The boy is a fucking overpowered todler okay. He's an 8 year old.

-The biological son of his Vlad, was born a Halfa. Jack, Vlad and Maddie got their shit together and are in a healthy poly relationship.

-Got separated from Vlad one time in the zone and inadvertently adopted by the assistant squad and clockwork.

-His Vlad is aware of the squad and just. Dad's the crap out of the Danny's as a result. It makes for some..... interesting interactions.

-I can't think of a nickname so I'm just gonna be lazy and say he gets to be the one Tru Danny bc cute little kind privileges lmao.

Full ghost! Danny:

-15 years old, will always look 14.

-Nickname/designation is Toast

-Died in the portal accident and got fucking FRIED.

-He always smells like somethings burning.

-He's really bright and sorta sparks a bit, you can see his bones glowing through the hazmat.

-He still leave the zone to protect his version of amity, but lives with clockwork full time.

Canon Danny (NOT PHANTOM PLANET COMPLIANT) :

-Basically show Danny, except phantom planet never happened fuck you

-Joined the crew after the events of de stabilized

-Also he's trans fuck butch

-Franken! Danny

-Yall remember that Headless Danny Au? This is my take.

-Is Actually 20 years old, but physically stuck at age 14. Bc he's a walking corpse :)

-Came from a timeline that was directly parallel to Full ghost! Danny. He dies in the portal accident, but jack and Maddie are in the lab when it happens and manage to sort of bring him back using a combination of science and freaky ghost junk.

-So he's basically possessing/ stuck inside of his own dead body. Which, is thankfully not rotting or going into rigor mortis bc Ectoplasm is rather similar to formaldehyde, but he's not the most durable thing and bits and pieces fall off from time to time.

-Like his head. For example.

-He's pretty desensitized to it at this point and if he loses a leg after a ghost fight he doesn't see anything wrong with sitting down on the curb of a main street to stich it back on. His being dead isn't exactly a secret.

-Don't ever ask him to "give you a hand" bc he can and will not hesitate to pop one off and Chuck it at you.

-Said hand and any other body part will continue to function just fine even if it isn't attached to anything, btw.

-Nickname/ designation is Adam. Bc. Ya know. that's the name Frankenstein's monster gave itself.

Post Phantom Planet! Danny:

-A very jaded 22 year old who is driven only by spite and enough caffeine to kill a horse

-Very, very tired of the hero thing.

-Being a global celebrity isn't all it's cracked up to be.

-Decided to follow Vlads lead and fuck off to space for a while. Partially to get away from everyone and also partially bc he kinda feels responsible for the fact that the only other person like him and probably floating DEAD in the void somewhere? And yeah Vlad fucked up all on his own but what if he'd tried harder to get through to him things could have been different-

-Joins the crew after a natural portal opens up in space and decides to help out and use clockworks resources to try and track down his Vlad.

-Nickname/ Designation is Polaris, aka the north star.

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ghosttrolls · 4 years ago

Note

Writing prompt:

"please, I don't want to fight!"

From the DP Phantom reverse evil trio AU, if you've heard of it?

(if not, I recommend searching for it in @13thdoodle 's tags, I think you might enjoy the aesthetic!)

Thanks, anon! I took some time to research the AU before writing, so it took a hot minute, but here it is! Enjoy!

Edit: I read the message back and it seems I entirely forgot the prompt. I did start with it but the whole thing just changed so much... sorry. I can make a part 2 later that actually has the "please, I don't want to fight!" I just got so carried away!

Corruption never felt so good. Danny sometimes admitted to himself that he’d never felt like there was a pivotal moment where he felt himself change - aside from when he got his powers, of course. But he felt like, the way that things had turned out, there was only ever one way he could be. The boy who tried to do good, and failed so many times - it just was never really him, after all. It was better this way. He was meant to be.

It was morning. Danny stood in his room, the sun shining through his window, and stretched: arms out high, then to the side. “I think I’ll skip school again today!” he said out loud to himself, so very cheery. He put on his clothes - a white button up shirt, a vest he embroidered himself, black slacks - and nearly skipped out of his room. Another fantastic start to an amazing day.

He hopped down the stairs, pulling up his phone to call Sam. When she picked up, he said “Hey! What do you want to do today?” He pinned the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he stooped to put his shoes on.

“I’m not sure,” said Sam on the other side of the line. “Let’s get breakfast and think about it. Tucker’s pretty impatient, but he won’t say what for. Maybe he has an idea.” Tucker loved tech, and he used to be a pretty decent hacker - but his powers, when he got them, made it difficult if not impossible to get a cell phone to work. So Sam and Danny would meet up with him to talk.

“Okay!” said Danny. “Gotta check downstairs, first. I’ll meet you soon.”

“Of course,” said Sam, a sombre tone in her voice. He knew she didn’t really like what he’d done. But they’d chosen this path, and she understood the danger his parents offered them as well as he did. Danny hung up.

Danny straightened upright from wrestling with his left shoe. He walked through his kitchen, which led to the front door. But instead of heading outside, he went into the family lab, down in the basement, through a closet door. His parents had always had this obsession with ghosts. For so long, he didn’t believe they were real. Until his parents made a working portal to the ghost zone.

Danny stepped downstairs, carefully, listening around the creak of the wooden steps. If there was any movement, a single sound, he’d have to use his powers, which he didn’t really like doing so early in the morning. Especially when he wasn’t showing off. He fit a hand in his vest’s pocket, which had the pattern of a blood blossom on it. The anti-ghost flower. He gripped the seed inside for security.

His foot hit the flat concrete floor, and he checked on his flowers. Still good, still healthy. They needed a bit of water, though. He turned to get the watering can from the other side of the lab. “You know,” he said as he did his work, “it didn’t have to be this way for you. We could have stayed a happy family. But of course, being the idiots you are… always fighting for good. You left me no choice.”

He said this to a silent room, but not an empty one. Deep down, he had a need to justify himself, his actions. He knew this was necessary. Right? That’s why he had to grow these flowers, the ones that always put humans to sleep. His parents and sister could not resist it. And so they lay, in their beds, in their basement, in their coffin. He intended to keep them there as long as he could. And he knew that he could keep this up forever.

After the plants were watered, he made sure they were placed properly among his family. “I miss you,” he said, so quietly he could convince himself he didn’t. And he turned, walking back up the basement stairs to meet his friends. He was in control, Danny reminded himself. We are in control. No one crosses the trio. He shut the door in the kitchen, closing that part of his mind. On to better things. Destructive things! The thought made Danny giggle as he walked out the front door.

In the dark of the basement, in the silence of it all, Jazz sneezed. The darn plants, she must be allergic or something. She decided that Danny was gone, and she opened her eyes, irises glowing green. His morning ritual was so routine, you could know where Danny was just by looking at the time. His grip on the town was stifling - his and his friends, Jazz reminded herself. She crawled out of her bed, standing and stretching. “Okay,” she said to herself, “I’m ready.”

In a flash, she changed - her orange hair now white, her clothes becoming the stealth suit she’d put together from what she could get her hands on. She was a ghost. Half ghost, really, because she could still “turn back human,” but ghost enough to be immune to her brother’s plants. She was still new to it all, and she knew she would never be able to stop the trio’s reign by herself. That’s why she called on a friend.

She walked over to the Ghost Portal, pressing a few buttons on the keypad, and the door to the Ghost Zone opened. She peered through - the ghost zone looked flat and 3D at the same time, like it was made of paper, or maybe some type of goo, or possibly a universe of stars. Whatever it was made of wasn’t important. The people who came out of it were.

After not too long, she saw a form approach the surface of the portal. She backed up, giving them space to come through. As the form stepped forward, Jazz recognized the ghost instantly. Blue-green skin, red eyes, and long hair - it was Vlad Masters.

“Vlad,” said Jazz, “he’s gone again. We should hold another meeting, if we can. The humans of this city can’t protect themselves… I can’t bear to see my parents asleep like that” - she pointed behind her into the darkness, wherever her they were - “for another second!” She was on the brink of tears, falling apart with each breath. How can you stop someone who can engulf you with vines in seconds? Or someone who can send massive plagues to decimate the entire town with a snap of her fingers? Or someone who can touch anything, and turn it into nothing? An endless void, an Egyptian goddess, and a corrupted gardener… As silly as it sounded, Danny’s powers scared Jazz the most. She fell to her knees, lost in despair.

Vlad knelt, resting a hand on Jazz’s shoulder. His eyes, full of concern, watched hers. “Jasmine,” he said, “don’t blame yourself for what has happened. You’re only 18 years old. Even I couldn’t have seen this coming.”

“We’re doomed,” breathed Jazz.

“Perhaps,” agreed Vlad. “But it doesn’t hurt to try. Good versus evil… such a black and white concept. Everyone is ‘morally grey’ one way or another.” He gently pulled Jazz to her feet. “And no one,” he said, “is irredeemable.”

Jazz sniffed. “You really think so?” She knew he worried about her attachment to her brother, so it was comforting to hear. Even if it wasn’t really true.

“I know so,” said Vlad. He held her hand and stepped back towards the portal. “Come,” he said. “Let’s work on saving your brother.”

#ghostly posts #ask #anon #danny phantom #dp reverse evil trio au #danny fenton #jazz fenton #vlad masters #my writing #long post #and now i take a nap #i was aiming for angst but then somehow i ended up on this hopeful note ???#anyway

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thesoulspulse · 3 years ago

Text

Reconcile (Good Vlad AU ~ Oneshot)

It happened in early winter, that's all he could tell because of the first signs of snowfall outside of the window next to his bed at the hospital. Vlad had been there for, what, a month or so? Kept in isolation from everyone apart from a couple of doctors and nurses. Honestly, it was entirely possible Vlad had been there for longer for all he knew since every day blurred into the next after the accident.

Vlad couldn't feel it though, the cold, because these days his skin always felt either unnaturally chilly or feverishly hot to the touch. The only constant Vlad could feel was pain. The morphine helped ease that pain a little bit, but all that was left to feel after that was this cold numbness. And since the doctors thought he had been exposed to radiation of some kind -which to be fair they weren't wrong- no one has been allowed to see him after he was admitted there.

But still, Vlad had hoped his friends would come see him eventually. And more importantly, he wanted the chance to give Jack a piece of his mind! That...that traitor knew the portal experiment was unstable and potentially dangerous and yet he still pressed the-

“Excuse me, are you awake Mr. Masters? You have a visitor,” a nurse called after knocking on the door and poking her head inside.

At first Vlad was happy that he had a visitor, hoping it would be Maddie so he could get these feelings off his chest about how angry he was at Jack...but as soon as he saw the large silhouette waiting outside the door he knew there was only one person that would have come here to see him who had such a wide girth. It was Jack. But he wasn't ready to see him, not yet, not when all Vlad could think about is how his best friend had almost killed him...

Turning his head away Vlad finally muttered, “Sorry, I'm not feeling well. Please tell them to come back lat-ER!”

Vlad grunted the last word of that sentence as Jack burst into the room, tears rolling down his cheeks as the man called him by that ridiculous nickname of Vladdy he insists on using. Normally Vlad could shrug it off, but right now the nickname felt insulting somehow as if Jack was making light of what happened the last time they saw each other. Either way it's a good thing Maddie actually was there and managed to help the nurse pry him off, reminding Jack that Vlad's in the hospital as a patient so giving him a bear hug wasn't the best idea.

Regardless, Jack looked at Vlad's bandaged face and sobbed, “I'm so sorry V-man. We tried to come sooner but they wouldn't let us in! We were so worried about you!”

Nodding, Maddie put a supportive hand on Jack's shoulder and continued awkwardly. “He's right, as soon as we recovered from the shock of what had happened to you we immediately went looking for you but you had already collapsed somewhere. Jack was heartbroken and didn't understand what went wrong with the portal. I tried to find out too but it was no use, whatever happened fried the wiring and-”

Cutting herself off as soon as she realized she was going off on a tangent when their friend's well-being was much more important, Maddie dropped her hand from Jack's shoulder and asked with a sad smile, “How're you feeling? Have they been taking good care of you? I tried to explain your condition to the doctor but...they didn't believe me about it being related to ectoplasmic energy.”

“Why would they? As far as they're concerned ghosts don't exist,” Vlad replied with a guarded expression, unwilling to admit he tried to do the exact same thing only for his arguments to be thoroughly dismissed since he's not a doctor. “As for the rest they're...doing the best they can I suppose.”

An awkward silence filled the room since none of them knew what to say after that, but then, Jack spoke up and said, “Vladdy? Um, I know it's a bit squished but I made this for you. It's...my way of saying sorry for everything. I should have listened to you and Mads when you told me to stop.”

Reaching into one of the many pockets of his jumpsuit which according to Jack was handed down to him by his grandfather and designed after an outfit one of his ghost-hunting ancestors wore, he handed Vlad what appeared to be a misshapen block of homemade fudge. The gesture might not have seemed like a big deal to anyone else, but for Jack who absolutely loved the stuff and couldn't help himself from eating almost all of it himself in one sitting whenever he made or bought it, however, the fact that Jack was sharing an entire serving of it just for Vlad really was his way of showing his sincerity. Similarly, Maddie reached into her bag and pulled out a couple of her ghost folklore books for him to read since she figured Vlad must have been bored laying in bed all day.

Vlad was at a loss for words because he had almost given up hope that they'd ever come visit him, hope that Jack would own up to his mistakes for once and apologize. But since he did, Vlad couldn't stay mad. He wanted to, but couldn't, not since this forgetful yet earnest man had gone out of his way to finally come see him. The same goes for Maddie, Vlad was sure she felt guilty too for not stopping Jack in time since she's always been the more careful of the two when it comes to their experiments...

Accepting their gifts but resisting the urge to wipe the tears from his eyes since his face still hurt, Vlad held them in his lap and sniffled, “Thank you. Thank you both for coming. I...was afraid you had abandoned me.”

“Come on V-man, give me a little credit,” Jack smiled, gently punching Vlad's shoulder. “You're my best friend! I know I can be careless and stupid sometimes, but friends have to stick together through thick and thin don't they? We'll get through this together and then maybe we can try again with the ghost portal. We were so close!”

Grimacing at the thought of going anywhere near that portal again, Vlad was relieved when Maddie interjected and said, “Jack, don't forget that it's our fault this happened so before any of that we need to make sure Vlad's going to be ok. We don't know what that portal did to him and the doctors are only going to be able to help him so much. The best thing we can do for him is go back to square one and find out what we did wrong so it doesn't happen again.”

“Shoot, you're right. I'm sorry,” Jack apologized, looking dejected. “Don't worry Vladdy, I'll make this all up to you I promise! And we'll visit more too!”

Smiling weakly more because it hurt to move his face too much, Vlad nodded, “I'd like that.”

Soon after that, before Maddie could comment on anything else the nurse shooed them out so they could get Vlad ready for his next check up. But as soon as he was alone again Vlad reached over to set the fudge and books on the desk next to him when they unexpectedly slipped through his fingers. Blinking in confusion but brushing it off as clumsiness, he sighed and swung his feet over the bed so he could bend down to pick them up again. This time though, when he reached for them again they didn't just slip through his fingers as a figure of speech...they LITERALLY passed through them! Alarmed Vlad recoiled from both objects, his heart racing when he mustered the courage to look at his hands only to find they were translucent.

Realizing his sudden spike in heart activity would alert the hospital staff Vlad concentrated as hard as he could to restore his fingers to a solid state again. It took some effort but thankfully he managed to pull it off. It was in that moment though that Vlad realized, for better or worse, his relationship with Jack and Maddie would never be the same again...

And neither would he.

Note: I normally don’t write fully-fledged story content on tumblr apart from headcanon ideas or sharing updates about new chapters for my fanfics, but since I had started this oneshot before my Good Vlad AU started to really kick off and wasn’t that far along I adapted it into a special oneshot about Jack and Maddie coming to see Vlad at the hospital after the accident. I always wondered why they never did and usually assumed Vlad turned them away himself (mostly Jack) along with the doctors and his friends eventually move on and kind of forgot about him for all those years.

Either way, I wanted to see what could have happened if they managed to fix things with Vlad sooner while still on somewhat good terms before that sense of abandonment and resentment for Jack could take root in Vlad’s heart. Hopefully that comes across here in this little story snippet! I might post this on my actual fanfiction account later but for now, it’s here for you guys especially!

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shezzaspeare · 4 years ago

Text

Pilot/Episode 1: Patching Things Up With Pastiche & Fanfiction

Hi, hello, and the wait is finally over! My name is Blessie, and welcome to the first episode webisode log installation I've decided to call these things an episode for now because why not also let me know what do you actually call these things episode of The Science of Fanfiction, where we take a closer look into our beloved works of fanon because we've all got plenty of time to spare till Season 5. Before I continue, I would like to thank everyone who's liked and reblogged the last few posts before this one. It means a lot for a small and growing Tumblr user like me, and your support is something I cherish more than my modules. You guys rock!

Anyways, like with most things, we have to talk about the boring and bland stuff before we proceed with the fun stuff. For today, we are going to settle the difference between a couple of things: first being the confusion between pastiche and fanfiction; then the distinctions between tropes, clichés, and stereotypes, which we'll tackle the next time. It's important for us to establish their true meanings in order for us to really understand what fanfiction truly is, even if it's merely just a work done for the fandom. I know – it's boring, it's something that shouldn't be expounded that much, but I believe that all forms of writing (unless it's plagiarised) is a work of art — and fanfiction is not something we always talk about. I hope that by the end of this, you'll learn about what they really are as much as I did. Let's begin to talk about the—

[Image ID: A flashback of John (left) and Sherlock (right) finding an elephant (not in the screen) in a room in The Sign of Three. End ID]

. . . I did say that this GIF will always have to make an appearance here, didn't I?

So, just as with Sherlock Holmes, all other works of fiction have their own pastiches and fanfiction, and many more original works out there have taken inspiration from them to create their own books. Although they've gained popular attention, this will not be possible if they did not have taken inspiration from the materials their writers had at the time.

[Image ID: Various actors as Dracula. Jeremy Brett in 'Dracula' (1978) (upper left), Adam Sandler in a voice role for 'Hotel Transylvania' (2012) (upper right), Gary Oldman in 'Dracula' (1992) (lower left), and Bela Lugosi in 'Dracula' (1933) (lower right). End ID]

For instance, Bram Stoker's 'Dracula' (the second most adapted literary character, next to the consulting detective himself) has been portrayed on the screen over 200 times — from Gary Oldman to Adam Sandler — and has spawned off numerous books and pastiches of its own such as Stephen King's 'Salem's Lot'. Its cultural impact served as a basis of how we see vampires today, since some characteristics of the Count were made by Stoker himself. Stoker's creation is the brainchild of his predecessors and inspirations.

[Image ID: Vlad the Impaler (left) and a book cover of 'Carmilla' by J. Sheridan Le Fanu (right). End ID]

Other than the ongoing hysteria over dead back then and the existing vampire folklore, Stoker also took his inspirations from the published books on vampires he had at hand. He is said to have taken inspiration from Vlad the Impaler, a Romanian national hero known allegedly for having impalement as his favourite method of torture. He is also said to have been inspired by the J. Sheridan Le Fanu's 'Carmilla', a Gothic lesbian vampire novella that predates Dracula by 26 years. I could go on, but hey, we're going back to Sherlock Holmes now before I deviate any further. However, if you want to know about Dracula's literary origins, I suggest you watch Ted-ED's videos about the subject matter such as this one or this one.

Very much like Stoker, ACD didn't just conceive Holmes on his own. He took his own inspirations from what he had available at the time.

[Image ID: Dr Joseph Bell (left) and Edgar Allan Poe (right). End ID]

As we all know, ACD's biggest inspiration for Sherlock Holmes was one of his teachers at the Edinburgh University, Joseph Bell. He was famous for his powers of deduction, and he was also interested in forensic science — both characteristics which Holmes is greatly known for. He also drew inspiration from Edgar Allan Poe's sleuth, C. Auguste Dupin ('The Purloined Letter' & 'Murders in Rue Morgue'). As ACD himself has said at the 1909 Poe Centennial Dinner: "Where was the detective story until Poe breathed life into it?" Some other writers he took after are Wilkie Collins, Émile Gaboriau, and Oscar Wilde.

Now, what does this say about us Sherlockians/Holmesians (depending if you're the coloniser or the one that was colonised)? Basically, ACD laid the groundwork for us with Sherlock Holmes: his humble abode 221B that he shares with his flatmate Dr. John Watson, his adventures, memoirs, return, casebook, last vow, and all that. Now that we have this material at hand, we can now make our own versions, takes, or even original stories featuring the characters of the Canon. Our inspiration comes from ACD's Sherlock Holmes, and we now get the chance to make our very own stories/conspiracy theories about them.

As I have mentioned earlier, Sherlock Holmes is the most adapted literary character in history. He has been adapted in over 200 films, more than 750 radio adaptations, a ballet, 2 musicals; and he's become a mouse, a woman, a dog, even a bloody cucumber. On top of all that are numerous pastiches and fanfics, and finally, we have arrived at the main topic of our post!

Fanfiction and pastiche are often confused together since they have three common elements: they take after the original work, they usually use the characters in that original work, and more often than not do are they set in that same time frame/period or not long after that. The common misconception is that pastiche are printed fanfiction, which is only partly true. While pastiche is definitely fanfiction in some ways and vice versa, there are fanfictions out there that aren't necessarily classified as pastiche that have been published.

Let's get on with our definition of terms to clear up the confusion a little more. Pastiche, according to Literary Terms, is:

. . . a creative work that imitates another author or genre. It’s a way of paying respect, or honor, to great works of the past. Pastiche differs from parody in that pastiche isn’t making fun of the works it imitates – however, the tone of pastiche is often humorous.

A good example of a pastiche is Sophie Hannah's 'The Monogram Murders', which is her take from Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot.

[Image ID: A book cover of 'The Monogram Murders' by Sophie Hannah. End ID.]

Although this was a commission from Christie's estate, it's still considered as a pastiche as:

It's takes after Christie's writing style;

It is set in the early years of Poirot's career (1929), which is still within the time frame that the author wrote him in;

It features Poirot and;

It pays respect to Christie in a sense that it stays true to her (Christie) characters and way of storytelling.

Meanwhile, our good and slightly unreliable friend Wikipedia defines fanfiction as:

. . . is fictional writing written by fans, commonly of an existing work of fiction. The author uses copyrighted characters, settings, or other intellectual property from the original creator(s) as a basis for their writing. [It] ranges from a couple of sentences to an entire novel, and fans can both keep the creator's characters and settings and/or add their own. [ . . . ] [It] can be based on any fictional (and sometimes non-fictional) subject. Common bases for fanfiction include novels, movies, bands, and video games.

To avoid any copyright infringement issues if I ever use a popular fanfic in the fandom, we'll use my (unfinished and unpopular) Sherlock Wattpad fic, 'Play Pretend'. You can read it here.

[Image ID: The second self-made book cover of Blessie/shezzaspeare's 'Play Pretend'. End ID]

Why is it considered a fanfiction and not a pastiche?

It takes after an adaptation of Sherlock Holmes (BBC Sherlock) which is a TV show, not the ACD canon itself;

The author (in this case myself) uses her own writing style and does not take after the original story's style;

Although it is set well in modern-day London and after Season 4, it also features scenes decades before the actual fanfic is set and outside of London;

I added a considerable number of characters, i.e. siblings to canon characters;

I had my own take some of the canon characters' personality especially after the events of Sherrinford;

It is written by a fan – myself. It is a work of fan labour and;

It is only a work of fanon, and isn't likely going to be considered by the show as its writing style is different from the actual show.

To put it simply, you can have more freedom in a fanfiction as it does not necessarily restrict you to follow or take after the original stories. Alternate universes (AUs) such as Unilock and Teenlock are perfect examples of this thing.

So can a pastiche be classified as fanfiction? Yes.

Can a fanfiction be classified as pastiche? Not all the time.

What's the difference? While yes, they share the basics, pastiche is technically leans more onto the original work's fundamental elements whereas fanfiction is a broader range of works inspired by the original work but doesn't necessarily follow all or any of its fundamental elements.

In order for us to understand it more, I'll give another example.

[Image ID: The 'Enola Holmes' title card (upper left) and Henry Cavill as its Sherlock holmes (upper right). Underneath it is a a scene from the opening titles of BBC Sherlock (lower left) and Benedict Cumberbatch as Sherlock Holmes in A Scandal In Belgravia. (lower right) End ID]

Most of you are familiar with these 21st-century adaptations of Holmes: the 2020 adaptation of Nancy Springer's Enola Holmes books and BBC Sherlock, which needs no further explanation – but for those who don't know, it's basically Holmes and the gang if they were alive today. I specifically chose these two as they are the ones that I believe would get my points across best. Though both are considered as wonderful pastiches with a well-rounded cast and awesome visuals, if we break them down bit by bit, we'll see which one is more of a pastiche and which one is more of a fanfic. (Yes, I know they're both screen adaptations. However, as Enola Holmes was based on the books and BBC Sherlock's fanfiction has the show's scenes written out in most fanfics, hear me out.)

They share these characteristics of a pastiche:

They feature characters from the Canon (Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, and Lestrade);

They have additional characters added by the writers (Including but not limited to Molly Hooper, Eurus Holmes, and Philip Anderson for BBC Sherlock while Enola Holmes has Lord Tewkesbury, Eudoria Holmes, and Enola herself) and;

They pay respect to the original Canon as their stories are based on the cases (BBC Sherlock) or simply what was going on around them (Enola Holmes).

They also share these characteristics of a fanfic:

They are made by enthusiasts of Sherlock Holmes (Moffat has called himself and Mark Gatiss 'Sherlock Holmes geeks', while Nancy Springer's Enola Holmes books are not just one or two but six);

They follow a common trope (we'll discuss these tropes in the following episodes) that goes on in the fandom (Sherlock's Sister & Modern AU)

They are based on a fictional subject (Sherlock Holmes);

They used characters and story elements that are copyrighted by the author/author's estate (fun fact: prior to the production of Enola Holmes, the Conan Doyle Estate filed a lawsuit against Springer & Netflix over Sherlock's emotions since he was more 'sympathetic' than he was portrayed in the Canon – this was later dismissed by both parties) and;

Their writing styles don't necessarily follow ACD's.

Despite these similarities, there are very obvious differences between the two that separates them from being a pastiche and a fanfiction.

Enola Holmes embodies pastiche more as it doesn't stray far away from the original elements of the Canon. It's still set in Victorian England. While Springer added characters of her own and definitely twisted the Canon to suit her series, she didn't necessarily place them out of the social construct that was going on around the characters. It follows ACD's writing style more as Enola Holmes' setting still remains within the Canon's original setting.

Meanwhile, we can safely say that BBC Sherlock is a work of fanfiction. While it did give us The Abominable Bride, the main series focused on Holmes and Watson in 21st-century England, which is drastically different from Victorian England. There are phones, black cabs, and cellphones — things which ACD Sherlock Holmes doesn't have. It also diverted from the Canon in the characters themselves, which is mostly seen in the names: Henry Baskerville became Henry Knight, Charles Augustus Milverton became Charles Augustus Magnussen, the H in Dr Watson's name stood for Hamish and Sherlock's full name is actually William Sherlock Scott Holmes. They also changed the personalities of some Canon characters: Mary was actually an ex-assassin, Mrs Hudson was an exotic dancer who drove a kick-ass sports car, Irene Adler is a dominatrix, to name a few. Moffat and Gatiss created a world of their own featuring the characters of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, which is really what most of us fanfic writers do with Mofftiss' rendition of Holmes.

In conclusion: while pastiche and fanfiction could have been the same thing, they're actually not. There's more to them that just printed fanfiction or pastiche e-books, and we all should take some time to see and observe them in a closer perspective.

And that's it for our first episode! I hope you enjoyed it. It was a lot fun for me to write this, especially now that I'm only starting. I would also like to note that while intensive research has been done on this series, some parts of this comes from my own observation and opinion, which may vary from yours. I am very much open to criticism, as long as it is said in a polite and civil manner. I'm still young, and to be educated as I go is something that could really help me with this series.

Like and reblog this you like it. It helps out a lot. Be sure to follow me as well and the tags underneath if you want to see more of TSoF.

See you soon!

Blessie presents – The Science of Fanfiction: A Study In Sherlock (2021) • Next

Follow me! • My Carrd | My YouTube Channel

SOURCES • Pinterest, Google Images, Wikipedia, Literary Terms, Conan Doyle Estate, Definitions, The Sherlock Holmes Book, and Google

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sapphireswimming · 4 years ago

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superphantom crossovers by sapphireswimming

For ease of access, my published superphantom (Danny Phantom x Supernatural) crossovers are listed below (and in an ao3 collection)

There are also some additional crossover sentence-stories in Apricity (ao3) and 100 word drabbles in Turning Pages (ao3)

Track Record (ao3) The Winchesters are excellent at researching, but that doesn't always mean they like what they find

Resplendent (ao3) Everything about the room was wrong. It was too bright. Filled with nauseatingly ornate furniture and art. And he couldn't remember how he'd gotten there

The Only Voice Coming Back (ao3) The house has been abandoned for years and Sam and Dean are about to find out exactly why no one's tried to fix it up. with podfic!

The Fires Burn at Midnight (ao3) The ghost wants them to go away

More Than Bullets (ao3) They were just looking for some futuristic stun guns. Honestly

For the Sake of the Song (ao3) Swing Era AU. It's the big night for Sam (and Sam) and Dean is determined that nothing will ruin it for them. Except maybe his two left feet

Paradiso (ao3) Of all the doors he'd walked through, this was by far the nicest

Half a Time (ao3) Clockwork has meddled enough

Motnahprepus (ao3) Companion piece to The Cinderninja's "Superphantom". Honestly, their day had been doomed from the beginning

Down the Road (ao3) Nearly a decade has passed since there was any trouble in Amity Park but now the Winchesters can't get there fast enough

Fraternizing (ao3) Sometimes they couldn't care less about the affairs of Heaven and Hell

For the Man With (Almost) Everything (ao3) Charismatic billionaire Vlad Masters has everything he could ever want in the world. Except… we all know that isn't quite true

Spin Off (ao3) Writing was hard. But if there was one thing worse than putting Sam and Dean through cliché plots like The Bugs and The Seven Deadly Sins, it was running out of ideas entirely

and is this silence all you're going to say? (ao3) It hadn't crossed their minds that Danny hadn't told anyone

Tangling (ao3) For once in their lives, getting information isn't the problem. The Winchesters have too much of it. Finding out the truth is the hard part

Bottom of the Barrel (ao3) Jack Fenton was having the worst day of his life. The woman in black said that she could help with that

The Only Thing Worse (ao3) Sam had never grown up "normal." He had never fit in at the many schools he'd attended. He'd always been picked on. But it wasn't until years later that he realized that maybe... maybe that was more normal than he thought

All My Children (ao3 pt1) (ao3 pt2) Maddie made a mistake, but to fix it, she made an even bigger one. Because now, in a Wyoming cemetery, Dean realizes that even using the Colt's last bullet, this is far from over

Regnant (ao3) Sam and Dean once again require the services of the King of Hell. Only... apparently there have been some regime changes since the last time they looked

But Oxygen is Loud (ao3) Danny was alone in the house. But never, of course, as alone as he thought he was

On the Road to Nowhere (ao3) end!verse. Dean's in a future where nothing is the same. Not even himself

Wrong (ao3) Wrong everything. Wrong time, wrong place, wrong idea. Which is why it isn't hard to see how the entire plan fell to pieces

QED (ao3) There was no possible way that a man with a track record like Vlad Masters' was not destined for Hell when he finally kicked the bucket, so Crowley sets out on a mission to find out exactly why he cannot find the man's name on his enrollment list

The Nasty Burger (ao3) The only thing that might be able to salvage this day is a good burger before he hits the sack. That's all Dean wants. And is it really so much to ask?

Lonely Gray (ao3) Sam took a shot in the dark. The Winchesters were caught by surprise. (He had a hole in his heart and there were tears in her eyes)

The Billionaire You Know (ao3) Because there's only one person Crowley would trust with something as important as this

Strange Sanctuary (ao3) It was the most haunted city in the country and it drew the Winchesters like a magnet

Putting Out the Welcome Mat (ao3) When the Fenton Portal first starts up, the Winchesters are the first to get the invitation to see it in action. Dean can only form one coherent thought: "what have you done?"

Just Another Day (ao3) The Winchesters are over and it's just turning into a very, very stressful night for Jazz

On the Nature of Ghosts (ao3) The Winchesters talk shop with Danny. Because these ghosts of his in Amity Park? Really weird

By Any Other Name (ao3) Sam, meet Sam. Oh. That's going to get confusing pretty quickly if we work together, isn't it?

Sacred Circle (ao3) Danny wakes up trapped by hunters using unconventional weapons - salt, iron, and shotguns. He isn't liking it. Not one bit

#superphantom #danny phantom #supernatural #crossover #i just realized I'd never made a tumblr masterlist of my own superphantom crossovers?#and that seemed like something i should have done haha so here you go #all of my finished superphantom fics linked in one place #maybe one day I can get back to the literal 100 plus pages of wips and post more #but it is not this day #mine #ss

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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years ago

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Raise the Barre (Ch. 6)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: Underage drinking, sexual harassment (not from any of the main characters)

Word Count: 7,295

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

Dr. Gonzalez’s assessment of your ankle turned out to be correct; by the end of the week, you were feeling much better. You had to give some of the credit to Jimin, who’d been like a hawk in his watchfulness all week. The second you landed a difficult jump, Jimin would pop up beside you like the worst kind of clickbait, scolding you for not marking your movements.

At first, it drove you crazy – it was like having your parents out on the dance floor. Each time you pliéd, Jimin would clench his jaw hard enough to crack walnuts. It got to the point though, where you began to find it amusing, pretending to do something full-out just to mess with him.

Jimin didn’t find this as amusing as you did.

The Monday following your injury, you returned to Dr. Gonzalez’s office for a check-up. After examining your ankle and a few routine tests, she nodded in satisfaction and declared you fit to dance. A massive weight lifted from your chest, you practically bounded upstairs and into ballet.

Mr. Vlad’s ballet class wasn’t the type of place people usually bounded to, so you drew several stares when you entered the room. Dropping your bag beside Noelle, you stood at the barre and began to shed your warm-ups.

“It feels so good to be back,” you groaned, lifting your leg.

Noelle grinned, mirroring your movement. “It’s good to have you back,” she agreed. “I felt like a worried mom all week, constantly watching out for your ankle. Now, I can finally be selfish again.”

You laughed. “Well, thank god for that.”

“Miss Y/L/N!” Smiling, Mr. Vlad came to a stop alongside you. “Good as new, I take it?” he said, glancing down.

“Yep,” you said, rolling your ankle in a circle to show. “Dr. Gonzalez cleared me to dance earlier this morning.”

“Good, good.” He nodded. “I’m glad to hear it. It’s always a shame to see talented dancers injured. Make sure you don’t jump back in too quickly, though. Take it easy.”

“Will do,” you said, somewhat dazed as he turned to walk away.

Noelle leaned forward. “Dude,” she whispered, staring at his back. “Mr. Vlad just called you a talented dancer. Mr. Vlad. Vlad Copson.”

“I know,” you whispered, trying to stifle a laugh. “Wow.”

It was a wow moment indeed, since before now you hadn’t been sure whether Mr. Vlad even liked you. He’d given you and Jimin a compliment a few weeks prior, but everything else you received from him was criticism. Despite knowing this to be his reputation as a teacher, you honestly had no idea where you stood with him at all.

Hearing him call you talented was enough for you to hope it would be a good day. Barre passed by quickly and, true to your word, you tried not to overdo things. Despite your initial positivity, it soon became apparent you’d fallen behind. By the time you finished barre and walked to the center, your earlier enthusiasm had somewhat waned.

Although you’d improved since the start of the year, taking a week off had put a damper on your progress. Even just seven days of marking was enough for you to feel lost while moving through the combinations. Luckily, Jimin was there to help you remember the steps.

‘Luckily, Jimin’ was never a phrase you thought you’d say and yet, here you were. Aligned by the same goal, Jimin had proven himself to be a useful partner. Nearly a month into your truce, things were going well between you. Steps came easier once you were certain he wouldn’t drop you on purpose.

Obviously, you still had work to do between you, but it was easier without constantly wondering what Jimin was thinking. Trust was tricky enough without years of rancor between you, but somehow you and Jimin were making this work.

Miss Britt had explained during your first week that pairings at Russet were random on purpose. It was one of the most valuable lessons your first year could teach you, she’d said – learning to trust someone you didn’t choose for yourself.

Oftentimes, your company or choreographer would pick your partner. Even if you didn’t like them as a person, you needed to learn to trust them as a dancer, which was something you had no experience in before. By this point though, you found you no longer harbored dislike for Jimin as a person or as a dancer.

Jimin helped you during the week, walking you through tricky steps you’d missed the week prior. He even stayed late one night to practice a lift without you even needing to ask. By the time Friday rolled around, you felt almost completely caught up in your classes.

Miss Britt’s class was quickly becoming a favorite. She was more modern than some of the other teachers, choreographing to contemporary music instead of the traditional classical. This alone was enough to make you ecstatic, but she also encouraged improvisation.

You supposed this was why Miss Britt had suggested you practice the fundamentals. It was impossible to learn the fun, partner lifts if you couldn’t even complete a pirouette.

Today’s combination was one of the hard ones – Miss Britt tended to do that on Fridays, adding more complicated moves as a way to end the week. This turned out to be both blessing and curse, since it was fun to branch out, but it came at a cost.

“And – from the top!” Miss Britt called from the front. “Sissonne, sissonne! Cabriole, and chassé – tour jeté! Plié! And rise – hold! Plié, battement and grand fouetté!”

Seokjin stood at her side, demonstrating the moves with grace and poise. Every now and again, Miss Britt would join in to show particularly tricky footwork.

By the time you executed the combination full out, you and Jimin were sweating, fingers slipping while you grabbed at each other’s hands. Grand fouettés – sometimes called Italian fouettés – were difficult enough without adding pointe shoes and a partner. In grand fouettés, the woman did a grand battement effacé (facing forward), swept her leg through first position while turning, only to end up facing the same way with her leg in attitude derriére (behind her, and bent). All of this, of course, occurred within two counts of eight.

Jimin helped you balance, although he needed to move fast to avoid getting kicked in the head by your leg. The combination moved across the floor, starting in one corner of the room and ending up in another. By the time you’d practiced the moves a few times, both of you were dripping sweat on the floor.

“Shit.” Gasping for air, Jimin lowered both hands to his knees. “Miss Britt isn’t taking things easy on us, huh?”

Silently, you shook your head no, as you fought to catch your breath.

“Alright!” Miss Britt clapped her hands together. “Line up in the corner and we’ll go two couples at a time. Sabrina, Paulo, Alex and Jasmine – you’re first.”

Sabrina and Paulo were practicing close by, dutifully finishing the steps of the combination. While you watched, you saw Sabrina wobble and Paulo’s hand slip from hers. Sabrina managed to keep her balance, but her timing was thrown, and she missed the last fouetté.

“Sabrina!” Miss Britt called out sharply. “Be sure to stay on the beat!”

Stricken, Sabrina’s head turned as she finished. Landing in fifth, she managed a nod before she turned to cross the room. Paulo followed suit, swallowing at the look of annoyance she shot him.

Once they were in the corner and ready to go, Miss Britt motioned the accompanist to play as she crossed her arms.

As the music began, the first group moved forward. This time, Sabrina got her timing right for the fouetté turns, but still didn’t seem happy. Finishing the combination, Sabrina struck her ending pose – only to exhale, expression dropping as soon as she stalked from the floor.

Miss Britt didn’t seem to notice, her attention already moved on to watch the next group. Nudging Jimin with your elbow, you indicated you both should move up in line. Noelle and Eamon were in the second group across the floor, so you two would be next, along with Irene and Brian.

Waiting to start, Jimin exhaled and rolled his neck. Glancing sideways, you were surprised to find you also felt nervous. This was a difficult combination, so you couldn’t expect to do things perfectly, but the fact that Sabrina had failed didn’t bode well for you at all.

“Next group!” Miss Britt called.

Breathing deeply, you placed your hand in Jimin’s and fell into tombé. Your first steps were in unison, feet skimming the floor while you traveled forward. Jimin’s hands gripped your waist, lifting you easily to set you back on the ground. Each step flowed to the next, barely allowing time to think as your limbs found each other.

Even the complicated footwork section was in tandem, Jimin’s plié matching yours when he lifted you overhead. The ending segment – a series of partnered jetés, culminating in a grand jeté – happened easily, making you feel as though you were floating on air. When you landed and struck your ending pose, your heart hammered against your ribcage.

“Very good, Y/N and Jimin!” Miss Britt smiled before she moved on.

Schooling your expression to stay calm, you felt almost giddy as you ran from center. Jimin was close behind, barely able to contain his excitement.

“Did you hear that?” you gasped, spinning to face him.

“A very good from Miss Britt.” Jimin wriggled both brows. “Might as well move us to the top of the class now.”

“Don’t get cocky,” you warned, though you laughed when he high-fived you.

Walking off to the side, you joined the rest of your classmates who were waiting in line. As you waited to reverse the combination on the left, you practiced the steps in your mind.

Miss Britt continued to yell corrections and when your turn finally came, you took a deep breath to relax. Emptying your mind, you forced yourself to focus only on the movement. For the first time since your arrival at Russet, the steps felt almost natural.

Partnering had been difficult for you to learn after so many years of solo competition. Unlearning your independence as a dancer was hard, but you finally felt as though you were making progress. When you and Jimin finished on the left side, you realized with some amazement Miss Britt hadn’t yelled out any suggestions.

As soon as everyone had gone, Miss Britt motioned for the pianist to stop and walked to the center.

“Good job, everyone,” she called. “Just a few notes today. Irene, be sure and keep your weight centered in attitude. Don’t rely on your partner to keep you steady. Louis, make sure you really push Ari across the floor. Her momentum should come from you, not just her legs. And Sabrina,” Miss Britt said as she turned.

Sabrina straightened, clearly expecting a big heaping of praise. Miss Britt always had something nice to say for her star pupil. It wasn’t bitterness which made you say this – Sabrina was just that good at ballet. As much as you disliked her as a person, you couldn’t deny Sabrina’s prowess as a dancer.

Miss Britt frowned. “Don’t step so far forward next time. Paulo had to rush to catch up, which is why your timing was off. And Y/N,” she said, moving on.

Sabrina froze, staring wide-eyed at Miss Britt’s back. The shock in her expression was clear and if Miss Britt hadn’t moved on to you, you would’ve relished for longer in Sabrina’s confusion.

“Excellent work.” Miss Britt smiled. “That was a beautiful combination. Have you been practicing with Jimin as I suggested, Y/N?”

Instantly, heat rose to your face.

“I, uh,” you stammered, searching for words. “I’ve been working with Sana Minatozaki, actually. She graduated last year from Russet?”

“Ah, Sana!” Miss Britt’s face lit up. “Did Seokjin introduce you?”

Seokjin nodded, giving you a thumbs up as soon as Miss Britt turned.

“Well, it was wonderful,” Miss Britt continued. “Much improved, both of you – keep it up. Jasmine,” she said, moving on. “You’re lowering your chin right before you turn.”

In the corner of your eyes, you saw Jimin glance in your direction, but chose instead to stare at the clock. Pretending as though the time needed your undivided attention, you managed to avoid him for the rest of class.

Across the floor leaps were always the last combination of class – they were considered the ‘fun’ part of ballet, so of course teachers chose to save them for the end. As you turned and jetéd across the floor, your stomach churned imagining what to say to Jimin.

Maybe you could pretend Miss Britt had been confused. You could say she mistook you for another student, or that you’d never considered asking Jimin for help – even as you thought this, you released a small sigh. You should just tell him the truth and get it over with. If Jimin had proven one thing to you over the past couple of weeks, it was that he wasn’t the person you’d always made him out to be.

Still, it would be humiliating for Jimin to know how close you’d been to being kicked out. Miss Britt had told you to seek help barely a week into classes and now, Jimin would know that.

A part of you hated this since that same part of you thought often about that one practice session. The night Jimin had stopped and said he loved watching you dance.

You still weren’t sure what to make of that night, but you couldn’t deny it was something you often returned to.

As soon as Miss Britt ended class, you made a beeline for your things and plopped down on the floor. Undoing your pointe shoes as fast as you could, you tossed these in your bag and pulled on some sweats. Throwing your bag over your shoulder, you garbled an excuse to Noelle about needing to go and frankly ran towards the hall.

Glancing over your shoulder, you checked to make sure the coast was clear – only to crash into Jimin as soon as you left the room.

“Whoa!” Jimin caught you by the arms. “Careful, Y/N. You’ll sprain your other ankle.”

“I didn’t sprain my ankle,” you huffed.

Arching a brow, Jimin continued to hold your arms. His dance bag was slung over a shoulder, sweatpants pulled on over his ballet clothes. Dimly, you realized he hadn’t had to take off any pointe shoes. Stupid male dancers and their stupid male benefits.

Behind Jimin, you saw Noelle exit the classroom. Tossing a beseeching glance in her direction, Noelle saw you and paused – only to wink and continue walking away. Aghast, you stared in shock at her back.

Traitor, you decided. She’d pay for that later.

“Can we talk over there?” Jimin nodded down the hall.

“I – sure,” you said, unable to think of an excuse. Why couldn’t you think of an excuse?

Releasing your arms, Jimin turned to leave and you followed. Once you were far enough away from class to not be overheard, he turned around. Coming to a stop, you fiddled with the strap of your bag pulled across your chest.

Oddly enough, Jimin seemed as nervous as you were. “What… was that?” he asked, glancing towards the ballet room.

“What was what?”

Jimin gave you a look. “That comment from Miss Britt. Were you going to ask me for help, or something?”

Wincing, you glanced away. Hearing Jimin speak brought back all the resentment you felt when Miss Britt first pulled you aside. You thought you’d grown since then – and maybe you had – but remembering that day still made your stomach sink. If there was one thing you hated, it was admitting you weren’t perfect.

“I – well, no,” you said, looking up.

Jimin’s expression remained unsure and after a moment, you sighed.

“Alright, yeah,” you said. “Kind off. Miss Britt… suggested I ask you for help at the start of the year.”

“Oh.” Jimin’s face was unreadable.

Someone laughed far off down the hall and another door banged open, a different ballet class letting out. Jimin glanced away, hesitating a moment before his gaze returned to yours.

“Want to get going?” Jimin offered. “The next class is starting, so Danley is going to get crowded.”

“Sure,” you said, following as Jimin turned around.

You were silent the entire trip down the hall and even outside, as you began to walk down the sidewalk. Jimin was correct; Danley Hall was crowded at this time of day. After Miss Britt’s classes on Fridays, you didn’t have any set schedule unless you chose to take an afternoon master class.

Jimin walked next to you on the sidewalk, brow furrowed and seemingly lost in thought. About a block away from Danley, he glanced in your direction.

“Why didn’t you ask me for help?” Jimin said.

Rolling your eyes, you hitched your bag higher. “Oh, come on,” you sighed, shooting him a look. “It wasn’t like we were on the best of terms. You wouldn’t have said yes.”

“Maybe I would’ve.”

“Be serious.”

“Maybe I would’ve!” he insisted, cracking a smile. “Look – you’re not the only one who needs extra practice. What did Miss Britt say you needed to work on?”

Falling silent, you stared straight ahead and considered what to reveal. The air around you was crisp, the sky blue overhead and the leaves orange against it – in other words, it was a perfect fall day. You hated to ruin something so wonderful with talk of improvement.

At long last, you sighed.

“Technique,” you admitted. “You know that my background isn’t as a ballerina. Miss Britt thought it would be a good idea for me to take lessons from someone strong in ballet.”

“Hm.” Jimin considered. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Hey!”

He looked your way in surprise. “What? You’re the one who said it was something you needed to work on!”

“I know,” you grumbled. “It just sucks hearing you say it.”

“What’s wrong with hearing me say it?”

“You know,” you said, gesturing vaguely. “You’re you. Park Jimin. Hearing you say it just reminds me of all the ways we’re different. All the ways you’re… better than I am.”

Jimin didn’t react in the way you expected. You thought maybe he’d deny it, or maybe even gloat, but instead he just frowned.

“Different doesn’t mean worse,” Jimin said slowly. “It just means… different. You need help with ballet technique? Well, I need help with performance.”

“You – what?” you said, caught off guard.

Jimin gave you a rueful smile. “I kind of wish you’d said something sooner. I got feedback last month that I needed to work on emoting. Apparently, my technique is good, but I forget what to do with my face in difficult combinations.”

“Really?” you blinked, somewhat amazed. “I’ve always thought you were good at that.”

“Well, I’ve always thought you had great technique.”

“Was that... an actual compliment, Park?”

“Don’t act so surprised.” Jimin snorted. “Most people think I’m a really nice guy.”

“Yeah, well. Most people haven’t had you tell them to break a leg and mean it.”

“I didn’t mean it.” Jimin’s lip twitched. “Most of the time, anyways.”

“Aha!” you said, leveling a finger in his direction. “So, you admit it. You meant it some of the time.”

Jimin shrugged. “What can I say? I wanted to win. Sometimes it felt like… I don’t know, sometimes it felt like you were the only thing pushing me.” He paused, then continued, “There were some days things were so bad, I just wanted to quit. I wanted to give up, but then I’d think about you. I’d think about our bet, our next competition and… I’d keep going,” he said, finishing quietly.

You remained silent for a moment, allowing this to sink in.

Deep down, you understood what Jimin meant. Dance was difficult; that much was obvious from your first semester at Russet. It was hard to find the drive to keep going. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t sometimes felt the same way. There had been weekends in high school you just wanted to be a normal student and hang out at the mall – but then you’d remember Jimin’s maddening smirk when he won and force yourself to work harder.

“I guess fear is a great motivator,” you said softly.

Jimin hesitated, then nodded. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like you were the only reason I danced. It’s just… on some days, you were that push.”

Again, you knew what he meant. The mental, physical and emotional exhaustion of dance could eat at a person until there was nothing left. An iron-clad will only got you so far – on some days, you just needed something more, something external. That push.

“I get it,” you said, glancing his way. “I felt that way sometimes about you, too.”

Jimin straightened. “Really?”

“Yeah.” After a moment, you shook your head. “But seriously – would you be interested?”

“Interested in what?”

“In helping me practice,” you said before you could talk yourself out of it.

The words hung in the air between you, Jimin blinking while he considered your proposition.

Immediately, you wondered if you’d made a mistake. Sabrina’s easy dismissal came to mind, but you tried not to jump to any negative conclusions. For all the difficulties you’d had in your past, Jimin hadn’t done anything detrimental to you in nearly a month.

At some point, you needed to learn to move on.

“Does that mean you’ll help me, too?” Jimin glanced hopefully sideways. “I wasn’t kidding about the feedback I got. I’ve been trying to find someone to teach me for weeks.”

“Deal,” you said, offering him a smile.

Jimin nodded, digging around in his pocket for his cell phone. “What’s your number?” he said, glancing up. “I can check the practice room schedule and let you know what’s available.”

Rattling off your information, you waited for Jimin to send you a text. When he did, you pulled out your phone and saved his information.

“Cool.” Jimin shoved his phone back in his pocket. “I guess I’ll see you around, then. What’re you doing tonight?”

Normally on Fridays, you’d take one of the available master classes, but part of your new deal with Finn had been to see each other at least once a week. Tonight, you were heading to a club with Finn and his friends despite having ballet tomorrow. This had been a compromise on your end, which was something you realized you hadn’t done much of.

“I’m going out,” you said with a shrug. “What about you?”

“Before Mr. Vlad’s ballet class?” Jimin raised a brow. “Brave of you, Y/N. I’m probably just going to read, go to bed early. Real wild stuff.”

Adjusting your bag, you laughed and turned away. “Brave or stupid?” you called as you climbed the steps. “Don’t knock yourself, though. Your night sounds pretty great to me. Self-care and all that.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jimin laughed. “Have fun at your thing. See you tomorrow, Y/N!”

When you reached the top of the stairs, you turned and saw him wave goodbye. Returning the gesture, you pulled your key from your pocket and let yourself in. As soon as the door swung shut, leaving you in darkness, you realized Jimin was saved in your phone.

After a moment of pause, you continued your walk down the hall. If you’d told yourself one year ago that this would happen, you would’ve assumed it to be a prank or a joke.

It only went to show how easily people changed.

Except for people in clubs, it seemed.

Seated in a back booth of Excelsior nightclub, you drummed a hand on your knee and gazed around the warehouse. A strobe-lit dance floor lay directly before you, a DJ booth situated on a table several feet above the dancers.

Sweaty, half-naked bodies writhed to the beat of deafening music. Watching this from afar, you couldn’t help but wince. It wasn’t that you hated dancing – obviously, not. It was just this form of dancing which always confused you. There was no intimacy to it, no emotion, and no connection to gain from grinding your ass on someone’s crotch.

Most men didn’t bother learning to dance, anyways. Most were content just to sway side to side, watching their woman do all the work. Finn was amongst this crowd, but you couldn’t really blame him for that – the man truly had no rhythm. This led to you oftentimes being bored on the dance floor; there was only so much you could grind with a stationary being.

Even the people who went to these clubs were annoying. Eager, college freshman waiting to try out their new fake IDs. Tipsy sorority girls at the bar, sipping on cranberry vodkas and scanning the room for a partner. Around the edges of the dance floor lurked creepy men, attempting to grab on before their faces were seen.

You hated all of it, but you especially hated it sober. Had you been drunk, maybe you would’ve found the noise and crowd to be tolerable. As it was though, you were completely sober and found everything around you to be incessantly annoying.

Finn and his friends had pre-gamed before your arrival at his dorm. By the time you reached them, Finn was already three beers deep, red-faced and tipsy when he threw open the door.

“Y/N!” he had cheered, pulling you in for a hug.

You’d already forgotten several of his friends’ names by now, although this wasn’t entirely due to your faulty memory. Half kept calling one another by nicknames, making it difficult for you to keep up with their discourse.

Compared to the other girls in the party, you found yourself to be severely underdressed. They all were wearing tight body-con dresses and stilettoed heels. You, on the other hand, had thrown a cardigan over your tank top before you left in case it was cold.

The look on the other girls’ faces when you entered continued to burn uncomfortably in your mind. They’d looked at each other over the rims of their drinks, clearly unimpressed. Their meaning had been clear enough. This was Finn’s girlfriend?

Usually, you didn’t care what other people thought. As Jimin had pointed out, you weren’t the type who acted insecure. In that moment though, surrounded by Finn’s inner circle and feeling entirely out of place, you’d had a brief lapse of inadequacy.

Not being able to drink had solidified this wedge between you. Friendships were often forged in the throes of drunken adversity – your sobriety placed you firmly on the outside.

To his credit, Finn did his best to include you. He’d stayed by your side the entire evening, pulling you into games and introducing you to everyone in the room as his girlfriend. It was physically impossible for him to be everywhere at once though, so there were some unavoidable moments when you were left alone.

The pregame had started nearly four hours previous – sometime around midnight, you’d traveled downtown to the club and now the time was close to 1:00 AM. You kept glancing at your watch, wondering with increasing anxiety when you would leave. The group showed no signs of slowing down and your ballet class started at 8:00 AM the next morning.

You probably should’ve discussed this with Finn earlier, but he’d just been so happy to know you were coming. You hadn’t wanted to throw a wrench in this excitement by demanding he make a schedule.

Toying with the rim of your water, you glanced over at Finn and realized he didn’t seem bored. Ben was seated on his other side, a guy named Rico across the table and two of the blondes were sandwiched on either side.

The rest of Finn’s group were already on the dance floor, having found suitable partners soon after arrival. Two of his friends were currently sucking face by the DJ booth, and you’d seen another two earlier try and sneak towards the bathrooms.

Rico snorted, which prompted laughter from the rest of them. You didn’t see what had been so funny about Ben’s joke – it had seemed kind of demeaning towards women – but the two blondes at the table didn’t seem to mind. You tried not to think less of them for that, lips tightening as you looked away.

Given how stifling the club was, you’d removed your cardigan soon after arrival and tied it around your waist. The air felt sticky on your skin, heavy with the musk of so many people. Finn had smiled when you did this, slipping an arm around your waist to pull you closer. It’d been a sweet gesture at the time, but now the warehouse was boiling and you felt dangerously close to overheating.

As the music switched to a new song, one of the girls across the table gasped and jumped to her feet.

“This is my song,” she said, clapping both hands. “Come on, guys – let’s dance!”

Grabbing her friend and Rico, she pulled them onto the dance floor. Ben downed his drink and joined them, so Finn moved to stand.

“You in?” he said with a grin.

Hesitant, you glanced around. “Can we sit for a while?” you yelled, fighting to be heard over the music. “I’m kind of tired after today.”

“You sure?” Finn called back, also fighting to be heard. He frowned. “Come on, Y/N. Just one dance!”

The rest of the group proceeded to enter the dance floor, hands up while they sandwiched themselves between other people. The sight looked frankly nauseating, but you caught the look of open desire on Finn’s expression.

Knowing he wanted to join them, you pushed aside a sigh and stood. “Okay,” you said, slipping your hand into his. “One dance.”

Finn instantly brightened, tugging you along towards his friends. Shoving your way through the crowd, you tried your best not to breathe through your nose. Slightly claustrophobic at the best of times, clubs had the ability to become your worst nightmare. Especially when everyone was drunk except for you; it made you feel even less in control.

Turning around, Finn lifted your arms and placed them on his shoulders. “See?” he said, sliding closer. “This is fun, right?”

Tilting your head upwards, you nodded and concentrated solely on him. Usually, you found Finn’s touch soothing, but tonight his grip felt too hot and people kept bumping into you from behind. All you could think about was how badly you wanted to leave. It had been such a long day of dance and you needed to wake up early tomorrow.

Pressing yourself closer, you tried to lose yourself in Finn’s normally clean scent. Tonight though, he smelled like sweat and alcohol, and so you released a sigh.

Hearing this, you felt Finn’s arms tense around you. Lowering his lips, he brushed them to your ear. “You’re not having fun, are you?”

Stricken, you looked up. “No – no! I am.”

Finn gave you a look.

“Alright, fine,” you admitted. “I’m just… tired, Finn. I didn’t know we’d be out so late.”

Rather than apologize or offer an explanation, Finn tensed a bit more. You knew from his face he was drunk; you’d known this objectively, given all the beer he consumed. When Finn drank though, he tended to resort to stubbornness. Seeing his expression harden, your heart slowly sank.

“You didn’t think we’d be out late at a club?” he asked you, brows raised.

“I thought we’d pregame, head to the club and then leave,” you said, somewhat defensive. “How long can you dance with the same, sweaty bodies?”

Finn’s jaw clenched and he looked away. “Don’t you mean – how long can you dance with me?”

Eyes widening, you pulled away.

“What? No! Finn, what are you even saying?”

Although his hands remained on your waist, his grip wasn’t gentle. Finn’s expression stayed tight, looking over your shoulder in order to avoid your gaze.

“You love to dance,” he said slowly. “So, what you’re saying is you don’t want to dance with me.”

“Finn.” You stared at him in amazement. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just tired – that’s all! I had dance early today, I have dance early tomorrow. Can’t we go and grab food somewhere? Just the two of us?”

Finn exhaled and it seemed as though he might acquiesce – but then he exhaled and returned to you.

His gaze seemed clouded, and you wondered in alarm how much Finn had drank. You didn’t know how much he’d had to pregame and found yourself wondering if he might throw up. Finn had a very thin line between tipsy and puking.

“Why don’t you like my friends?” he demanded, hurt in his gaze.

Taken aback, you could only stare. “I – what?”

“See?” Finn looked away. “You didn’t even deny it.”

“No, I – you just took me by surprise,” you said, reeling a little. “Your friends are fine, Finn. They’re just not my friends. I don’t know them very well.”

“Well… alright,” he said, slightly chastised.

Unsure where this was coming from, you stood there a moment and let everything sink in. Finn wasn’t a yeller – he still wasn’t really yelling – but something was clearly bothering him. Maybe it was the dance club around you, but you had a feeling it wasn’t just that.

“What’s this really about?” you said, having to yell in order to be heard over the music.

Finn shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Finn.”

“Nothing!”

“Why don’t we go somewhere so we can talk,” you said, stepping back. “My head’s starting to hurt, anyways. We can go –”

“No,” Finn said abruptly, cutting you off. “I don’t want to leave.”

Your eyes widened in amazement. “No?”

Finn met your gaze. “You said this was our night, Y/N,” he said, stepping closer. “I haven’t seen you all week and you promised we’d go out together tonight. This is what being out looks like, Y/N!” he said, sweeping an arm. “Look around!”

“I – okay,” you said, baffled. “But I have class in the morning.”

“You always have class the next morning.”

“Because I do!”

Dropping both arms, Finn took a step backwards. His expression hardened a little, but beneath all that exterior you saw an undercurrent of hurt.

Lifting a hand, you rubbed at your temples. You hadn’t been lying when you said you felt a headache coming on. This was the same argument you’d had weeks ago, but you thought that had been settled. A few weeks prior, you wouldn’t have come out to the club at all but now here you were, nearing 1:00 AM.

“Nothing’s changed, has it?” Finn asked, his voice louder than normal. “You still don’t want to be here, do you?”

“Want to be here?” you blurted. “I mean, no – not really, Finn! I wanted to spend time with you and instead, here we are. Clubs kind of suck!”

“Well, sorry the things I want to do aren’t fun enough for you.”

“Do you seriously want to be here?” you asked in disbelief. “You want to be sweat on by strangers while drinking a watered-down rum and coke at 1:00 in the morning?”

“Yeah, kind of!” Finn huffed. “Sorry if my interests aren’t high-brow enough for you, or whatever.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you groaned.

“Well, that’s what you said.” Shaking his head, Finn glanced away. “Fine. You know what? If you want to leave so badly, then go.”

“Well, I don’t want us to leave if –”

“Not us,” he corrected, returning his gaze to yours. “You. You can go if you want Y/N, but I’m staying.”

Before you could respond, Finn spun on his heel and shoved into the crowd.

You stared after him in shock, jaw dropping as he disappeared between people. Before you could run after, someone stumbled into you hard from behind. Cold soda and ice poured down your back, making you yelp as you jumped.

Nearly slipping on liquid, you spun around – only to realize your perpetrator was wasted. The girl giggled, then hiccupped, not realizing her drink was empty as she raised it.

“Sorry,” she slurred, blind to your distress.

Rolling your eyes, you stalked past her. Yelling at someone that drunk would offer no sense of retribution.

Scanning the crowd, you searched for Finn’s clothing but saw nothing. He’d been wearing a dark t-shirt and jeans, so he unfortunately blended easily into the crowd. After tapping several strangers on the shoulder and in turn, getting hit on by several strangers – probably due to your soaked, see-through tank top – you gave up and walked towards the edge of the dance floor.

Vision starting to blur, you yanked out your cell phone and swiped up. Your fingers hovered over the call button a few times before you gave up and shoved your phone in your bag. The logical thing to do would’ve been to find Finn, or to find one of Finn’s friends and convince them to leave but for some reason, you just couldn’t.

The idea of seeing Finn right now made you furious. He’d been a jerk and you knew if you saw him, you’d only end up saying things you’d regret. Instead, you clutched your bag tighter and spun towards the front.

As you passed by the coat check, you slowed enough to notice the line outside. People stretched down the block – if you left the club now, there’d be no getting back in. Turning around, you once again searched the crowd.

The booth you’d sat in wasn’t far away, but it remained empty, all of Finn’s friends still out on the dance floor. Had you seen Finn at that point – had you seen anyone familiar – you might have decided to stay, but as it was, you saw no one. Finn hadn’t run after you, he hadn’t called and he hadn’t sent a text. Clearly, he didn’t care what happened to you tonight.

Buoyed by this knowledge, you gritted your teeth and walked out the door.

As soon as you stepped outside, the air dropped ten degrees. Shivering a little, you pulled out your phone and checked the Uber app. The moment you saw the surcharge, you winced. The cost for a cab back to Russet was three times the normal price. If you had to pay that, you’d be screwed.

Exiting Uber, you opened the train schedule and again checked the time. When you saw 1:15 AM, you groaned. All trains in this neighborhood stopped running at 1:00 AM. This was why you’d planned on splitting an Uber home with all of Finn’s friends.

“Hey, you! Princess!”

Head jerking upwards, you found an unfamiliar guy leering at you from line. Glancing over your shoulder, you realized he was talking to you.

“Yeah, you!” he said, hanging over the ropes. “Want to come in the club with us, princess?”

Immediately, you wrinkled your nose. “Why would I want to go back in the club?” you responded. “Didn’t you just see me leave?”

His smile dropped. “Damn, I was just asking. No need to be rude!”

Rolling your eyes, you stuck your middle finger up in the air as you walked away.

“Whatever, bitch!”

Fighting back a shiver, you continued to walk until you were halfway down the block. It was quieter there, but that wasn’t always a good thing. Glancing around, you saw several alleys and tried to place yourself strategically away from the shadows. You hated going to parts of town you didn’t know, especially at night and especially alone.

Suddenly, your rash decision to leave the club struck you as foolish. Opening your phone, you pulled up Finn’s number and pressed call. Screw your dumb pride – you’d forget all about the fight if he’d come stand outside. Finn may have been drunk, but he wasn’t an asshole. You knew if Finn knew your situation, he’d immediately leave the club.

His phone went straight to voicemail.

Blood turning cold, you stared straight ahead for a moment. Hand shaking, you pulled your phone away and stared at the screen. Finn’s outgoing message continued to jabber, but to you the audio seemed almost blurred.

Trying his number again, you once more reached voicemail. At this point, you began to see red. No matter how annoyed he’d been at you, Finn had absolutely no reason to turn off his cell phone. And yet, it was the only explanation.

Spinning around on your heel, you marched back up the block and to the front of the line. Tapping the bouncer on the shoulder, you waited until he turned around.

“Yeah, hi,” you said, not bothering with a preamble. “I need to get in.”

The man gave you a strange look. “Huh?”

“To the club,” you said, jerking your chin. “I need to get back inside.”

“Uh, sure. You and the rest of the line.”

“No, you don’t understand,” you said, crossing both arms over your chest. You were just now remembering the spilled drink from earlier. “I was in there earlier. Look,” you said, showing the stamp on your wrist. “You must’ve seen me exit a few minutes ago. Just let me back in!”

“No can do, sweetheart.” He shook his head. “Rules are rules. When you left, we let someone else in. The club’s already at capacity.”

Stomach sinking, you stared at him for a moment, but he refused to budge. Glancing over his shoulder, you could see the dance floor in the distance, strobe lights flashing and bass thumping. Before you could try anything else, the leering guy from the line reached the front.

Seeing you, he did a double take. “Princess!” he said, slurring a bit. “Did you change your mind? You want to come party? I’ll forgive you if you give me somethin’ in return…”

Teeth gritted, you immediately turned and walked away. The guy continued to call after you, so you sped up your pace to put distance between you. Fighting another chill, you forced yourself to keep walking and not turn around.

In one hand, your thumb hovered over the emergency button on your phone. If the guy broke from the line, you weren’t above calling the cops. Finally, both his shouts and the sound of the club faded away.

Paused on the sidewalk, you realized you were in the same place as before. Knowing this was a bad situation, you reluctantly opened the Uber app once again. Screw the cost – better to be in debt than abducted from an alley.

As soon as you opened the app, you saw the surcharge remained at 3x and the wait time had risen to fifty minutes.

“Oh, hell no,” you groaned, closing the app.

Staring at the street, you went through your mental checklist of options again.

The train was a no, as was Uber – you could walk and find a cab, but this was an unfamiliar part of the city and you didn’t like those odds. You had none of Finn’s friends’ numbers and Noelle was likely asleep. She didn’t have a car to come get you, anyways.

Still, she could probably figure out a way to find you if you asked. Sighing, you thumbed through your contacts until you found the right number. It took you a long moment before you forced yourself to press call.

Lifting the phone to your ear, you hugged yourself with one arm while you waited. When the person on the other end answered, you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Hey,” you sighed. “It’s me. Can you… come pick me up?”

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

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