#okay back to Not Talking About Politics i go

[thebreakfastgenie]

You ever think about how Democrats are always judged on their worst policy positions, sometimes (for example with Biden) from decades ago, while Trump and his ilk are given every benefit of the doubt? Yeah Biden voted for a draconian crime bill in the 90s but the fact that he pardoned an incredible amount of nonviolent drug offenders and nominated tons of black female judges, etc? Perhaps he has learned from his mistakes.

Yeah lol. Democrats are never allowed to grow or evolve. When it's even acknowledged it's immediately discounted as not enough or characterized a cynical attempt to score political points. When Democrats actually do something leftists have been advocating for they scoff "well, they only did it because we told them to!" Okay? Isn't that what you want? Nothing is ever good enough because they weren't born already agreeing with every single activism demand. It's weirdly Calvinist and kind of contrary to the entire purpose of activism when you think about it. I also remember seeing Hillary accused of flip-flopping because she changed her position on an issue once. Growth is actively punished.

Biden won the primary because of Black Democrats and when he chose Kamala Harris as his VP her base, which is mostly older Black women, gave him their energy in the general. He didn't forget that, because he's a lifelong politician and he knows you don't forget who got you there. You see that reflected in his appointments of Black women and his determination to put one on the Supreme Court, which he did.

Overall Biden did progress over the course of his long career, which is good! It's what you hope will happen! He was also more progressive on some issues than his "moderate white guy" image suggested, going back a ways. The big one of course is LGBT rights.

Republicans meanwhile... lmao. They get the benefit of doubts they don't even want. There is a deep societal neurosis about appearing "fair" at all costs, which means people are constantly looking for positive things they can say about Republicans and if they can't find them they just make them up. Some of the negativity toward Democrats comes from the place. Republicans are doing bad things, Democrats must be doing bad things too, and if they aren't we'll invent something.

Over the last few years it's metastasized into a bias toward Republicans. I think as Republicans have become so obviously and absurdly evil, and partisan Democrats and their liberal supporters have become more and more frantic in pointing out what Republicans are doing, it's pushed that false "balance" process into overdrive.

Weirdly I think being in a wealthy liberal bubble can exacerbate this, because the mindset is "well obviously we all know Republicans are bad, let's be contrarian by talking about Democrats being bad and Republicans being good!" It's sort of like tumblr producing "let men be masculine" takes. That's not the only place it comes from, though, some of these people just like Republicans even though they won't admit it.

[zzbubblegumbitchzz]

BERRYYY I NEED MORE DADDY QUINN CALLING U PUPPY HELLO???????

okay but like i feel like he typically reserves puppy for when you're super subby right? EXCEPT when he needs you to get your shit together. then he'll pull it out, and watch your eyes get glossy and suddenly you're his best girl and you listen to everything he says.

but maybe he called you puppy as a joke at first, maybe he didn't know what it did to you. maybe it was while he was on a roadie that you got to go with him for and you just went where he did, so once he reached the family room he looked at you and smile, "you're just my little puppy, huh?" and he saw the way your whole demeanor changed. the way you tensed up a little bit, your face got damn near maroon, your eyes looked empty and your brain lost all concept of speaking.

that's when he knew, that's the moment he figured out that you were about to be putty in his hands. "you liked that one, didn't you? you wanna be my good little puppy, isn't that right?" and all you could do was nod at the man. and he shoved that in his brain and said imma play with that after this game.

it was a good game, canucks won 4-1. Quinn’s on cloud nine, media was good after. everything’s going smooth and all he wants to do is find you and go back to that damn hotel. when he finally sees you, talking with Petey he’s immediately walking up to you. he’s polite, he’s not just dragging you away.

so after a good 5 minutes, he’s speaking up. "you ready to go puppy?" and he smirks to himself when your quiet voices mumbles out uh huh. and ofc no one around thinks anything of it, bc you do follow him around like a little puppy and they think it's just a little joke between the two of you.

what they don't know, is Quinn is gonna get you so desperate, and so needy that you'll be a complete blubbering mess, just so he can call you his good little puppy, while you're drooling all over yourself bc he's just making you feel so good.

[moodymelanist]

too good to deny it

happy @sjmromanceweek 2025 everyone! I'm so excited for this event to be back and we're kicking things off with some Nemerie 🫶����

Summary: Nesta has never kissed anyone before, and when she gets asked on her first date, Emerie takes matters into her own hands.

Word Count:

Read on AO3 here!

♡♡♡♡♡ Emerie

Emerie was suffering through her statistics reading when her roommate barged through the door in what looked like a state of panic. “Emerie. Em.”

“Yeah?” Emerie asked, looking up from her textbook at the sound of Nesta’s voice. She hadn’t known Nesta very long — they’d only been living together since the start of the semester, and this weekend was her last chance to get some decent studying in before midterms started in earnest — but judging by the look on her roommate’s face, this was something serious. “What happened?”

Nesta shrugged out of her backpack and sat down hard on the edge of her  bed. “I think I have a date this weekend?”

“What?” Emerie asked, fully sitting up at her desk now. “What do you mean you think?”

“Well…” Nesta trailed off with a sigh. She kicked off her white sneakers before shifting back onto her bed in an attempt to make herself more comfortable, and Emerie turned around fully in her desk chair, statistics studying be damned. This was way more important. “You know that guy who’s been driving me crazy?”

“Which one?” Emerie questioned. She’d heard Nesta complaining about a guy in her bio lecture, but there was also the guy in her political science lecture that drove her nuts, too. “Bio lecture or poli sci?”

“Bio lecture,” Nesta confirmed. Emerie wracked her brain for the guy’s name — it was something that reminded her of Narnia. Caspian? Casper? Something like that. “Apparently he was flirting with me the entire time.”

“What an effective method,” Emerie replied dryly, pulling a soft laugh out of Nesta. It made something go a little warm and fuzzy in her chest, but she pushed it aside the same way she’d been doing these last few weeks. “So he’s been pulling your pigtails all semester and now he wants to get serious?”

“I guess so?” Nesta answered hesitantly. She seemed uncertain, which was rare for her; in the short time Emerie had known Nesta, she didn’t tend to show anything other than a very healthy dose of self-confidence. “I mean, I don’t know. He asked me to go to dinner with him on Saturday and I said yes and now I’m kind of… panicking.”

“You? Panicking?” Emerie responded, raising both of her eyebrows. Nesta didn’t do panic, which was generally pretty helpful, but now that she was actually showing something like human weakness, Emerie didn’t totally know what to do with it. “Why? He’s just some guy.”

“Okay, but I don’t do just some guy,” Nesta said. She curled into herself a little bit and Emerie frowned, not sure what to do with that, either. “I haven’t done… any guys, actually.”

Emerie just blinked; she actually had no idea what Nesta was going with this. “What do you mean? Guys must ask you out all the time.”

“Not really,” Nesta told her, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks.

Okay, now Emerie was really intrigued. She closed her textbook and got up to come sit on the bed next to Nesta, their thighs nearly pressed together because of how little room existed on their twin XL mattresses. “Nesta. What are you talking about?”

“You’ve met my mom,” Nesta said, and boy, had Emerie ever. She’d thought her family was bad, but watching the way Mrs. Archeron bossed every member of Nesta’s family around had managed to put even her uncle to shame. Emerie had been a little worried that Nesta would be just as bitchy as her mom, but thankfully that hadn’t been the case, and they’d turned into fast friends instead. “Everyone back home already knows how insane she is. Even if I’d been allowed to date, nobody wanted to deal with her.”

“Oh my God,” Emerie said back. She privately thought it was dumb to pass up on the chance to call Nesta Archeron your girlfriend just because her mom sucked, but maybe she had more brain cells than the guys in Nesta’s hometown. “So you’ve never—?”

“Whatever you’re thinking, no.” Nesta looked away, her cheeks going even pinker. “I’ve never even touched a guy other than dance classes, and that definitely doesn’t count.”

Emerie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How could someone as gorgeous as Nesta be freaking out about something as simple as this? Emerie didn’t have that much experience with guys — she’d figured out what that strange swooping feeling in her stomach when Jade from Victorious came on her television screen meant early, thank you very much — but from the little she did know, it wasn’t really that hard dealing with them. She imagined it would be even easier when you looked like Nesta, with her icy eyes, bronze hair, and general air like she knew exactly what she was doing and you’d be dumb not to go along with it. 

“It’s not that hard, really,” Emerie replied after a second, still reeling. Her first date with a guy on the lacrosse team had been pretty mediocre, but she hadn’t realized the reason she’d been so bored was because she’d wanted to catch the captain of the girls volleyball team’s attention instead. “You just have to laugh at their jokes and put your hand on their arm a little.”

At Nesta’s dubious look, Emerie added, “I’ve seen your Story Graph, Nesta. I know you know how to at least do that.”

“Okay, okay,” Nesta responded with a sheepish smile. “But what if he wants to kiss me?”

“It’s not as hard as it seems,” Emerie answered. “I mean, you’ve seen movies.”

“Of course I’ve seen movies, Em.” Nesta rolled her eyes and Emerie laughed. “But it’s not like I’ve actually done it myself.”

Emerie scrambled to find a response that seemed normal enough. “You can just practice on the back of your hand. Or maybe your arm?”

“Wouldn’t he be able to tell?” Nesta asked, biting her lip. Emerie tried her hardest not to notice how pink they were. “I don’t want to look like I don’t know what I’m doing. Or worse, kiss like a golden retriever. My sister says her boyfriend does that and she hates it.”

“Okay,” Emerie said slowly. She wasn’t completely sure how to respond to that, but she’d do her best. “We don’t have time to unpack the golden retriever thing, but I promise you won’t kiss like that.”

“Okay, but how do you know?” Nesta said back. “You can’t promise that.”

“Just kiss me and I’ll tell you,” Emerie blurted out before she could stop herself. She had to physically shove her hands under her thighs to stop herself from clapping her hand over her own mouth and make the situation even more embarrassing; she’d already done the worst, so now she just had to shut up until Nesta laughed it off.

Nesta didn’t laugh it off, though. She just narrowed her eyes like she was actually considering it, and Emerie nearly bit off her own tongue when Nesta said, “Are you sure?”

“I mean, only if you want,” Emerie replied, hoping it didn’t come off as desperate as she thought it did. Her heart was pounding so loud in her chest it was a miracle Nesta couldn’t hear it with how close they were sitting. “We don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Nesta responded. She looked at Emerie expectantly and added, “Well?”

Emerie quickly shifted so she was facing Nesta properly, leaning on their cinder block wall for some more support while Nesta did the same. This close to her, Emerie could see Nesta had the faintest dusting of freckles across her skin that looked like they trailed down under her shirt, and Emerie hoped Nesta didn’t hear how thickly she swallowed.

“Okay, so…” Emerie trailed off before summoning her courage. She wasn’t going to squander this opportunity, and if Nesta decided to use this knowledge to her date’s advantage, at least Emerie would have the memory. “Pick a side to tilt your head so you don’t bump your nose.”

“Like this?” Nesta asked, tilting her head to the right so far it was a miracle she didn’t strain her neck.

“No, no,” Emerie answered with a little laugh. She reached out to touch Nesta’s face without thinking about it, her cheeks going warm as she tilted Nesta to a better angle. “Like this.”

“Okay,” Nesta breathed. Her eyes looked incredibly blue this close up. “Now what?”

“Just lean in,” Emerie told her. She thanked whatever god was listening that she’d happened to brush her teeth when she’d come back from her discussion section earlier this afternoon. “And close your eyes.”

Nesta didn’t so much as lean in as she aggressively pushed her mouth in Emerie’s direction, but Emerie certainly wasn’t complaining. Nesta’s lips were soft and full against hers, and she could faintly taste the spearmint lip balm that Nesta liked to use. Emerie was fully expecting this to just be a peck, but to her surprise, Nesta’s lips parted and suddenly her tongue was licking at Emerie’s lips.

Emerie gasped a little, surprised, and that was all it took for Nesta’s tongue to slip inside her mouth. She tried to show Nesta how good it felt to slide their tongues together, how to move their lips to form a semblance of a good rhythm, but who was Emerie kidding. Nesta was clearly a natural, and Emerie was one hundred percent benefitting from that right now.

“Um,” Emerie said once she realized just how long they’d been kissing and pulled away. She didn’t know what to say but she didn’t totally know what to do with the strange silence between them. “So. Um. That’s how you kiss.”

Nesta studied her for a few moments before her look turned knowing. Emerie wasn’t sure whether she should be afraid of that look or not, but wow, was it doing things for her. “Right.”

“Right,” Emerie repeated, still at a loss for words. Her lips were still tingling from where Nesta’s had been pressed against them a minute ago, and she had to fight the urge to bring her hand up to touch them. “So. Yeah.”

“I’m canceling my date,” Nesta announced suddenly. Her lips were an even darker shade of pink now from all the kissing, and it was really distracting. “We’re doing more of that.”

Emerie had to mentally rewind the last few seconds to make sure she hadn’t misheard. “What?”

“I said we’re doing more of that,” Nesta repeated firmly. She leaned forward so their lips were just barely touching, and even that was enough to make Emerie a little crazy. “Unless you don’t want to?”

“No,” Emerie said quickly, and then immediately realized how Nesta might interpret that. “I mean, yes. I want to.” 

“Good,” Nesta said back, leaning in to press her lips firmly to Emerie’s.

This time when they kissed, they were both smiling too hard for it to really count, but Emerie didn’t mind.

tag list: @c-e-d-dreamer | @jsmelodies | @queercontrarian | @nativeswfl | @that-little-red-head | @dustjacketmusings | @fieldofdaisiies | @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk | @kale-theteaqueen | @goddess-aelin | @livinforthetea | @valkyrie-archeron | @agents-assemble | @sweet-pea1 | @lilah-asteria | @brieq | @mydnights | @jmoonjones | @readskk | @fwiggle | @bookstantrash | @climbthemountain2020 | @underneath-the-sidras | @illyrianshadowhunter | @sublimecoffeefestival | @superspiritfestival | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @burningsnowleopard | @bri-loves-sunflowers | @itsinherited

[skzdelf]

Broken Bonds| Bangchan

⭑PAIRING: Christopher Bang (Bangchan) x f.reader

⭑CONTENT: nonidol!Bangchan

⭑SYNOPSIS: Chris and you were always inseparable, best friends since day one of college. But things changed when he started hanging out with the wrong crowd, dragging him into a messy world of underground fights, drinking, and bad decisions that pulled him away from you.

⭑WARNING: mentions of weed/drugs, split lip, bloodie knuckles

⭑WORDCOUNT: 2,1k (2150)

You met Chan on the first day of college. It was one of those encounters that felt like fate. Both of you had shown up late to the same introductory class, panting after running up the stairs to the third floor.

“Does this happen to you often?” you asked with a nervous smile, trying to catch your breath as you stood at the door of the classroom where the lecture had already started.

He let out a soft laugh, the first of many that would eventually steal your heart.

“Let’s just say it’s not the best way to start the first day. But hey, I’m glad I’m not the only one in this situation.”

And that’s how it all began. From that moment on, Chris and you became inseparable. He was always there, with his contagious energy and easygoing laugh, ready to make you forget even the worst of days. You spent hours studying together, sharing meals, going to local band concerts, or just talking about life late into the night.

He was the kind of friend you could tell anything to—the kind of friend who would support any decision you made as long as it made you happy. Kind, affectionate, and thoughtful—it wasn’t surprising, considering he grew up in such a loving and polite family.

You loved how he saw the world, always looking for the good in things and constantly encouraging you to be the best version of yourself. To you, Chris wasn’t just your best friend; he was your favorite person, the safe place you could always turn to.

By your third year in college, you and Chris were still inseparable, just as you had been from the start. You loved spending time together, whether it was studying for exams or playing video games.

Chris often came over to your apartment, and you to his. He even had his own toothbrush at your place.

You stopped sharing all your classes with him when elective courses started. Out of personal interests, both of you chose different subjects.

BangChan was charismatic, cheerful, and above all, sociable. He loved meeting new people and hearing different perspectives, so it didn’t surprise you at all when, after his first elective class, Chris came up to you, excitedly telling you about the group of guys he’d hit it off with.

He mentioned their names, but you didn’t really remember them—or perhaps you just hadn’t shared any classes with them yet.

“They invited me to a small hangout at one of their places tonight. Is it okay if we move our plans to another day?” Chris told you as you walked down the hallway toward the parking lot.

“Just this once, I promise,” he added, his brown eyes lighting up with excitement and a big, warm smile spread across his face.

“Yeah, Chris, absolutely. Just don’t start replacing me with them,” you joked, playfully nudging his arm.

“Never, love,” he laughed, draping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you into a half-hug.

Oh, boy, how wrong he was.

Chris started hanging out with that group of guys more and more often. You’d had the chance to meet them a few weeks back when Chan invited you to one of the parties his new “friends” were throwing.

They were gathered in a small circle in the kitchen. Most of them were smoking weed, and some had scars on their faces—on their lips, eyebrows, or even knuckles that had clearly been poorly treated.

“Do you want some?” one of them offered, extending the joint toward you, his dark eyes fixed on yours.

Before you could politely decline, Chan stepped between you and the guy, throwing an arm over your shoulders.

“Nah, man, she doesn’t smoke,” he said, shaking his head and pushing the guy’s hand away from your face.

“And what about you?” the same guy asked Chan, taking another hit from the joint.

You weren’t sure if Chan did it out of curiosity or just to fit in, but he took the joint, put it to his lips, and took a long drag.

Your heart sank as you watched him exhale the smoke, his gaze distant and his posture relaxed, like the act didn’t mean anything. But to you, it meant everything. That wasn’t the Chris you knew.

“Chan…” you murmured, disbelief and disappointment clear in your voice, though it was barely audible over the laughter of the group.

He turned to look at you, hearing the tone of your voice. His eyes glimmered with something you couldn’t quite place—regret, guilt, or maybe just resignation? The silence between you two was brief, but it felt like the ground had been pulled from beneath your feet.

“C’mon, don’t be like that, sweetheart,” one of the guys said with a smug grin, laughing under his breath. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Chris avoided your gaze, uncomfortable, as he handed the joint back to the guy who’d offered it. He didn’t say anything, but his silence spoke louder than any excuse he could’ve made.

“Can we talk?” you asked, trying to keep your composure. You knew that if you stayed in front of those people any longer, you wouldn’t be able to hold back your emotions.

Chan hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded. Without saying goodbye to his “new friends,” he followed you to a quieter corner of the house. Once you were far enough away, you confronted him.

“What are you doing, Chan?” you asked, your voice steady but laced with pain.

He ran a hand through his hair—a nervous habit you knew all too well. “They’re cool guys, okay? I just… wanted something different, you know? Something out of the routine.”

You stared at him, disbelief washing over you. “Out of the routine? Is that what this is? Smoking? Getting caught up in whatever shady stuff they’re into?”

Chris sighed, leaning back against the wall and looking at the floor. “I don’t know… I just… I like hanging out with them, alright? They’re fun, and everything I do with them—it gives me this rush, this adrenaline I’ve never felt before,” he explained, his red-tinted eyes locking onto yours. You could tell the weed was already affecting him.

“We’ll talk when your head’s clear. Enjoy your party, Chris. I’m going home,” you said, disappointment heavy in your tone as you turned away, walking down the hallway and leaving behind the person who had always been your safe place.

After that night, things only got worse. Chan began ignoring your messages, sometimes not even reading them. He canceled plans he used to love doing with you. And in the rare instances when he showed up to class, he was distant, no longer sitting next to you but instead joining his new friends in the back of the room, where they did nothing but laugh and disrupt.

You grew genuinely concerned when he showed up to class one day with a black eye. He tried brushing it off, joking that he’d “walked into a door,” but you knew that wasn’t the truth.

He also stopped coming over to your apartment. There were nights when you didn’t even know where he was.

You both had your phone locations shared—Chan had insisted on it, saying he wanted to make sure you were safe. But now, he’d turned off his real-time location.

You started hearing rumors around campus about an underground fight club and drug exchanges. You hoped, with everything in you, that Chris wasn’t involved in any of it. But every time you tried confronting him, he’d shut you out, like there was an invisible wall between you.

“You don’t need to worry about me, alright? I’m fine,” he’d say whenever you tried to push. But his smile never reached his eyes.

But he wasn’t fine. You could see him slipping further and further away, and it made you feel helpless. You wanted to save him, but he didn’t seem like he wanted to be saved.

After weeks of him skipping class and ignoring your messages, you decided to wait for him outside his elective class.

When he came out, laughing with his group of bad-influence friends, his eyes locked onto yours. His face shifted from surprise to something that looked almost like shame. He hadn’t expected you to be there.

“We need to talk, Chris,” you said, crossing your arms.

His friends, standing behind him, burst out laughing, mocking you with exaggerated gestures. “Your girl’s mad, Chris,” one of them teased. “Better watch out!”

Chris sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I don’t have time for this right now, okay?”

Without waiting for your response, he turned and walked away, as if your words meant nothing—as if everything you’d shared didn’t matter anymore.

“Talk to me anytime, sweetheart,” one of his friends called out with a wink before following the group. Chris didn’t react, though he smacked the guy on the back of the head and kept walking, laughing with his new friends.

You knew you couldn’t force him to change. You couldn’t make him go back to being the kind, thoughtful, and loving person you’d met on the first day of class. But you also couldn’t stand by and watch him destroy himself piece by piece.

In the days that followed, your messages remained unanswered. You searched for him around campus, but he was always surrounded by that group, like they were a wall between you two. And when you approached, he always found an excuse to leave.

Each time he walked away, it was like you disappeared a little more.

You were curled up under your soft blankets on a rainy early morning when frantic knocks at your door jolted you awake. Who on earth would be pounding on your door so desperately at 3 a.m.?

Wrapping yourself in one of Chris’s hoodies that he’d left at your place, you shuffled to the door, bracing yourself against the chill in the air.

When you opened it, there he was—Chris, standing before you, soaked to the bone. His split lip, bloodied knuckles, and tangled dark hair plastered to his forehead painted a devastating picture.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he whispered, his voice laced with desperation.

You quickly pulled him inside, shutting the door behind him. Guiding him to the couch, you hurried to grab the first aid kit from your bathroom.

Sitting across from him at the coffee table, you placed the kit on your lap, your trembling hands barely able to keep it steady.

You were nervous, scared. You’d never seen Chris so vulnerable or this beaten up before.

“What happened to you?” you asked, even though deep down, you already knew the answer. As you pulled out disinfectant and bandages, your hands shook with fear and concern.

Chris avoided your eyes. “I was an idiot. Got into something I shouldn’t have… another fight. It doesn’t matter.”

“You always mattered to me, Chris,” you whispered. Your voice was barely audible, as if raising it would shatter you completely.

He finally looked up as you began bandaging his hands, having already cleaned the blood from them. “I didn’t want to drag you down with me. That’s why I stayed away.”

“I was just trying to protect you, trying to make you see that this isn’t where you belong,” you said softly, your hands moving to hold his face as you gently cleaned the wound on his lip.

Chris closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath, his face occasionally flinching from the sting of the disinfectant.

“You’re all I have. I just wanted to keep you safe from the black hole I was falling into,” he admitted at last, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Chris, it hurt so much to watch you fall further and further, knowing I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I felt so powerless,” you murmured, tears finally spilling down your cheeks.

His bandaged hand reached up to your face, gently wiping away the tears. His eyes, filled with regret, locked onto yours, but there was something else in them, something raw and unspoken.

“I’m such an idiot. A complete idiot. I didn’t realize how much you meant to me. I didn’t realize that you… that I…” His words faltered, caught in his throat.

“That you what?” you whispered, your voice barely holding on.

Chris leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. “That you’ve always been the girl of my dreams.”

That night, as you carefully tended to his wounds, the two of you began mending something far deeper—the bond that had been broken between you.

Chris didn’t promise to change overnight, but the look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know: he was ready to let go of that toxic group, ready to find his way back to himself—for you, and for the chance to keep you by his side.

⭑A/N: This fic is especially dedicated to Sofi, one of the best people I had the chance to meet this year and who is always by my side. I love you so much and happy birthday!

Also, a shoutout to @saradika-graphics, the creators of the dividers.

[chxnsgirl]

황현진 & 한지성 ─── pas de trois

♡ pairing ៸៸ ballet dancer!hyunjin x ballet dancer!jisung x afab!reader ៸៸ genre ៸៸ love triangle, ballet academy au ៸៸ cw ៸៸ none really. just jisung pining and hyunjin being a womanizer. ♡ synopsis ៸៸ in the world of ballet, every step is choreographed—but love never follows the script. what happens when you get accepted into the ballet academy of your dreams? a/n ๑ hi hi i decided to make this multiple parts because it's long as FUCK and i couldn't make you guys read over 10k words per part LMAO. ive been working on this for about two weeks and im STILL writing this story. comment below if you want to be apart of the taglist for this series, there will be smut in the next part ;3 ♡ masterlist

it was a day filled with nerves and anticipation.

today marked your first day at lumière ballet company—the most prestigious and renowned company in the country. you, along with fourteen other dancers, had earned a coveted spot to train, undergo rigorous evaluations, and prove your potential for a place in the company.

getting accepted into lumière ballet company had been your dream for as long as you could remember. now, here you were—far from home, chasing that dream with everything you had, determined to turn it into reality.

the only thing that unsettled you was the distance. your parents had always been supportive, but they hadn’t been thrilled about you leaving. they feared for you—not because they doubted your talent, but because they worried about the heartbreak if things didn’t go as planned. they didn’t want to see your dreams shatter before you even had the chance to live them.

you pushed those thoughts aside. after all, here you were—standing in front of the very place you had dreamed of since childhood.

as you struggled with your bags, pulling them out of the taxi, you heard a voice behind you.

“need some help with those?”

assuming it was just some random person, you rolled your eyes, irritation creeping into your tone. “no.” you tugged at your largest bag and turned around, ready to brush off whoever it was.

but your heart skipped a beat when you saw who was standing there. hwang hyunjin, the star dancer of the company. famous for his flawless technique and striking good looks, he stood before you with platinum blonde buzzed hair, plump lips, piercing dark eyes, and glowing, honey-toned skin.

you fumbled for words, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips. “oh, um…” you couldn’t help but take him in, a little starstruck that he was actually standing there, talking to you.

“‘no?’” he smiled, his eyes scanning you briefly.

“i mean… no, thank you.” you hugged your bag to your chest, politely declining his offer. he nodded, his expression unreadable as he took a step back.

“okay,” he said simply before turning and heading toward the company entrance.

you watched him walk away, a dazed, goofy smile spreading across your face.

you were definitely starstruck. you had seen hyunjin on tv and in performances before. he was undeniably talented, and adored by so many. it took you by surprise that he had even spoken to you, let alone offered to help carry your bags to your dorm.

the arrival at your dorm was quick and seamless, and you were relieved to find that your roommates were nice. yeji had been at the company for a while—she practically grew up there, and her seniority made you a little nervous. the other girl, celeste, was beautiful and kind, though you could tell she had a sharp tongue that might get her into trouble.

as you were walking around the dorms, you ran into yeji’s friend, minho. the two exchanged a friendly hug before she introduced you both.

“this is minho, and minho, these are my roommates—y/n and celeste,” yeji said, gesturing to you both.

minho gave a casual wave, leaning on yeji’s shoulder. “nice to meet you. you two new?” his tone made it clear he already knew the answer.

“yep, we are. that obvious?” you chuckled shyly. he laughed, shaking his head.

“maybe just a little. what are you guys up to, walking around the dorms?”

“i was just showing them around,” yeji explained.

“i see. want to play stakeout with me and felix? we’re keeping an eye out for our third roommate. supposedly, he’s coming from across the country,” minho said, nodding toward his dorm.

yeji looked to you and celeste for approval, waiting for your responses before agreeing.

“sure, we’ll hang for a little,” yeji smiled.

you spent the afternoon lounging around, getting to know minho and felix. the conversation flowed easily, filled with lighthearted jokes and stories. you learned that minho had been at the company for about four years—a fact that surprised you, given how effortlessly he carried himself. felix, on the other hand, was just as new as you and celeste, which brought you a sense of comfort. it was nice knowing you weren’t the only one still finding your footing.

the five of you were sprawled across minho and felix’s beds, laughing and sharing stories, when the sound of the door clicking open caught your attention.

in walked a stunningly handsome guy with clear, glowing skin and tousled dark brown hair that framed his sharp jawline. his cheeks had the slightest hint of roundness, giving him a boyish charm, but it was his eyes that truly struck you—warm, expressive, and impossibly friendly. he took in the unfamiliar faces before him, offering a small, hesitant smile as he waved.

“uh… am i in the right room?” he asked, shutting the door behind him and tugging out his dorm papers.

“you’re jisung?” minho spoke up, looking him over. you could’ve sworn there was a hint of pink dusting his cheeks.

“yeah, jisung.” he smiled warmly before setting his bags down next to the empty bed in the corner.

for a moment, minho didn’t respond, as if he had momentarily lost the ability to speak.

“um, i’m felix,” felix stepped in, standing up to shake jisung’s hand. “nice to meet you. that’s minho.” he motioned vaguely toward minho, who managed a small wave.

“nice to meet you too,” jisung replied with a grin, shrugging his duffel bag off his shoulder.

yeji stood up next, introducing herself, and celeste followed. finally, you extended your hand. “i’m y/n,” you said, offering a friendly smile.

jisung’s eyes flickered toward yours, his gaze lingering just a second longer than expected before his lips curled into a soft smile. “nice to meet you.”

“you too.” you hesitated before adding, “minho mentioned you’re coming from across the country?”

“yeah,” jisung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i flew in from la. my girlfriend dumped me for leaving her there.” his expression faltered slightly, the disappointment evident in his tone.

from the corner of your eye, you noticed minho let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, subtly relaxing against the bed once more.

felix let out a low whistle. “oof, rough. long-distance is tough, huh?”

jisung shrugged, forcing a small smile. “guess she didn’t think it was worth it. but, honestly, i can’t blame her. i left pretty suddenly when i got accepted here.”

yeji tilted her head. “how did you hear about lumière? i mean, it’s the top ballet company in the country, but la has some incredible programs too.”

jisung sat down on his bed, leaning back on his hands. “i’ve known about lumière since i was a kid. my old instructor used to talk about it all the time—said it was the kind of place that could turn a good dancer into a great one. so, when i saw the audition announcement, i figured i had to at least try.” he glanced around the room. “still can’t believe i actually made it.”

you nodded in understanding. “i know the feeling. this place always felt like an impossible dream, and now we’re actually here.”

minho, finally finding his voice again, smirked. “impossible dream or not, don’t think they’re going to go easy on you. lumière’s training program is brutal. if you survive it, you’ve got a shot at a contract, but only a few of us will actually get hired.”

jisung raised an eyebrow. “only a few?”

yeji sighed, crossing her arms. “yeah. it’s tough. there are fifteen of us in the program, but in the end, they only offer jobs to about five or six. maybe less, depending on the company’s needs.”

celeste groaned, flopping onto felix’s bed. “ugh, way to kill the excitement. let us enjoy the moment before we start panicking.”

felix laughed. “she’s right. we just got here, let’s not stress yet.”

jisung chuckled, shaking his head. “nah, i’d rather know what i’m up against. so, any advice? what’s the secret to surviving lumière?”

minho exchanged a knowing look with yeji before shrugging. “work hard, don’t mess around, and for the love of everything, don’t get on the instructors’ bad side.”

felix raised a playful brow. “sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

minho smirked. “let’s just say… they don’t forget easily.”

you laughed along with the group, but deep down, you felt the weight of their words. this wasn’t just a school—it was a proving ground. and if you wanted to stay, you’d have to give it everything you had.

the next morning, your alarm blared before the sun had fully risen, jolting you awake. a mix of nerves and excitement swirled in your stomach as you hurried to get ready, slipping into your leotard and tights before pulling your hair into a neat bun. this was it—your first official day at lumière ballet company.

by the time you arrived at the studio, the air was buzzing with hushed conversations and the occasional nervous laugh. the room was vast, lined with mirrors and ballet barres, the polished floors gleaming under the bright lights. the other dancers were already stretching, their movements graceful even in casual warm-ups. 

you spotted celeste and jisung near the back, exchanging a few words before he playfully nudged her, making her roll her eyes. yeji and minho were at the front, both exuding an effortless confidence that only came with experience.

you found a spot near the middle, smoothing out your leotard as you took a deep breath. just as you were about to start warming up, the studio doors swung open. the room instantly fell silent.

a group of instructors filed in, their sharp eyes scanning the room with quiet intensity. among them, a tall, distinguished man with graying hair stepped forward. his presence alone commanded respect, and you immediately recognized him—emile laurent, the head of lumière.

but he wasn’t the only notable figure in the room. behind the instructors, a small group of dancers followed, each one standing with an air of effortless poise. among them, your gaze caught on a familiar figure—hyunjin.

he was even more striking up close, his platinum blonde hair glowed under the lights, his black warm-up attire accentuated his lean, sculpted frame. you swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of his presence.

émile cleared his throat, and all attention snapped back to him.

“welcome,” he began, his voice deep and steady. “you stand here today because you have proven yourselves among the most talented young dancers in the country. but talent alone will not secure your place here. over the next several months, you will be tested—physically, mentally, and artistically. some of you will thrive. some of you will falter.” his sharp gaze swept across the room. “only a select few will earn a permanent position within this company.”

the weight of his words settled over the group like a heavy blanket. you tried not to let it shake you, but your fingers instinctively curled into the fabric of your tights.

“as you train, you will work with our esteemed instructors, as well as the company’s leading dancers.” émile gestured behind him, and that was when hyunjin stepped forward alongside the others. “these artists represent the highest standard of excellence. watch them. learn from them. and, if you are lucky, perhaps one day, you will dance beside them.”

a murmur rippled through the room, dancers exchanging glances of awe and quiet determination. you were no different—your gaze flickered toward hyunjin once again, and to your surprise, he was already looking at you.

your breath hitched.

it was brief, just a moment—his dark eyes meeting yours before a small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. he tilted his head ever so slightly, as if amused by your reaction. 

you quickly looked away, heat creeping up your neck.

“your training begins now,” émile’s voice snapped your attention back. “we will push you. and if you survive, you may just earn the right to call yourselves dancers of lumière.” murmurs began to be heard, but before you could break to hide in your thoughts, he spoke up again.

“one more thing, we have the company gala next week, we invite our advanced students, such as yourselves, to attend the performance and help with the party afterwards. i expect to see you all there.”

with that, the instructors began splitting the group up, but your thoughts remained elsewhere.

“i hope he didn’t think that was inspirational,” you heard a voice behind you.

you turned, seeing jisung leaning against a barre, arms crossed over his chest with an amused glint in his eyes.

you let out a breathy chuckle, still trying to shake off the weight of émile’s speech. “yeah, if the goal was to make us all fear for our lives, then mission accomplished.”

he smirked, pushing off the barre and stretching his arms over his head. “honestly, i think that’s the point. they want to weed out the ones who can’t handle the pressure.” he glanced around the room, where some dancers were already practicing their footwork, while others whispered amongst themselves, their nerves palpable. “some people thrive under that kind of intensity. others…” he trailed off, watching a girl in the corner shakily adjusting her pointe shoes.

you hummed in agreement, then glanced at him. “and what about you? are you one of those people who thrive?”

jisung shrugged, a lazy smile playing at his lips. “i guess we’ll find out.”

his confidence was subtle—not the overbearing, showy kind, but the kind that felt steady, reassuring. there was something about the way he carried himself that made you feel at ease, as if no matter how difficult things got, he would take it in stride.

you exhaled, shaking your head. “i get that they want to push us, but still… i was kind of hoping for at least one encouraging word.”

he chuckled. “guess you’ll have to settle for me.”

you turned to him with a teasing smile. “oh? and what words of wisdom do you have to offer?”

he pretended to think, lips pursing in exaggerated contemplation. “how about… ‘don’t pass out on your first day’?”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “wow. so profound.”

“i try,” he said with a grin, nudging you lightly with his elbow.

you gradually became acquainted with a few other girls in the class, aside from celeste and yeji. yeji, being well-connected within the company, had a couple of close friends she primarily stuck with—yuqi and lia, both senior dancers who carried themselves with the kind of effortless confidence that came from years of experience. it didn’t take long to realize that they seemed to know everything about everyone, from which instructors were the toughest to which dancers were secretly dating.

sensing an opportunity to learn the ins and outs of the company, you made an effort to spend more time around them. their presence, along with celeste’s, gave you a sense of comfort amid the overwhelming newness of it all.

with their guidance, you managed to survive your first class. the session focused mainly on warm-ups and refining positioning, easing you into the company’s expectations without immediately throwing you into the deep end. you concentrated on every movement, working to ensure your form was correct, and though you were nervous at first, it quickly became second nature.

oddly enough, time seemed to slip away faster than you anticipated. what started as a nerve-wracking first class soon became a blur of controlled movements, stretching, and quiet concentration. by the time the session ended, you were left feeling relieved.

as class ended, you fell into step with the girls, chatting idly as you made your way toward the commons. the conversation quickly turned into playful gossip about various company scandals—who was secretly dating whom, which instructors were the toughest, and who had mysteriously dropped out of the program.

it wasn’t until yuqi casually mentioned a name that you had already become all too familiar with that the conversation took a more intriguing turn.

“did you see hyunjin’s back from korea?” yuqi asked, slinging her bag off her shoulder before settling onto one of the couches.

your ears instantly perked up. you and the rest of the group followed suit, finding seats around her, the air buzzing with curiosity.

“i’m surprised he’s back so soon, considering what happened,” yeji added with a knowing grin, the kind that suggested she was sitting on a particularly juicy piece of information.

“what happened?” celeste beat you to the question just as you were about to ask yourself.

yeji leaned in slightly, lowering her voice as if afraid someone else might overhear. “right before the end of last year, hyunjin got dumped by madeline picard—one of the best dancers this company has ever seen.” she let the name linger, watching for your reaction.

your brows furrowed. madeline picard. the name sounded vaguely familiar, but before you could dwell on it, yuqi picked up where yeji left off.

“yeah, and apparently, it wasn’t just a normal breakup. he totally lost it—had a complete meltdown and accused her of cheating because she ended things so suddenly.”

you blinked, surprised. hyunjin didn’t exactly seem like the type to be dramatic over a breakup.

lia, who had been mostly quiet until now, tilted her head, her expression amused. “i heard all he did in korea was go clubbing and hook up with every girl he came across.” she raised a brow as if challenging anyone to refute her claim.

your stomach twisted slightly. you weren’t sure why. maybe it was because you had only just met hyunjin, and already, there was so much weight behind his name. or maybe it was the idea that, beneath his striking looks and undeniable talent, there was something messy lurking underneath.

"apparently, he hasn’t spoken to anyone from last year," yeji added, her tone dripping with intrigue.

"he talked to me."

the words slipped out before you could stop them, and the moment they did, regret settled in your stomach like a rock. instantly, all eyes snapped to you, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity flashing across their faces.

"what?" yeji practically narrowed her eyes at you, a sharp, almost jealous glint in her gaze.

"wait, hold on," yuqi leaned forward, gripping the edge of the couch. "you actually spoke to hyunjin? when?"

you swallowed, suddenly feeling very small under their intense stares. "it was nothing," you said quickly, waving a dismissive hand. "i mean… he just offered to help me with my bags yesterday."

silence. then—

"you’re telling me," lia started slowly, eyeing you with suspicion, "that he randomly decided to help you with your luggage?"

"it wasn’t like that," you rushed to explain. "i didn’t even recognize him at first. i thought he was some weird guy bothering me, so i kind of snapped at him."

yuqi gasped dramatically. "you snapped at hyunjin?"

"well, yeah, but i didn’t know it was him!" you defended.

celeste let out a low whistle, shaking her head in amusement. "wow. bold of you."

yeji folded her arms, tapping a manicured finger against her elbow. "and what did he say after you oh-so-graciously rejected his help?"

you hesitated, recalling the way his dark eyes had flickered with something unreadable when you told him no. how he had looked you over before flashing a knowing grin.

"he just smiled and walked away," you admitted, shifting uncomfortably under their scrutinizing gazes.

another round of silence followed.

then, to your utter shock, lia smirked. "oh, he’s interested."

your eyes widened. "what? no, he’s not! it was just a random encounter—"

"please," yuqi scoffed. "hyunjin doesn’t go out of his way for just anyone. and you’re new, so it’s not like he has some pre-existing friendship with you."

"yeah," celeste chimed in, grinning. "sounds like someone caught the star dancer’s attention."

you groaned, covering your face with your hands. "you guys are seriously overthinking this."

"are we?" yeji quirked a brow. "or are you underthinking it?"

you shook your head, but the butterflies in your stomach told you otherwise.

as the weeks passed, the reality of your position at lumière ballet company began to settle in. you quickly realized that, compared to many of the other dancers, you had a lot of ground to cover. your turnout wasn’t as refined, your footwork wasn’t as naturally strong, and the effortless grace that others seemed to possess still felt just out of your reach. every class was a reminder of how much work lay ahead of you.

celeste was a constant source of encouragement, always quick to remind you that progress takes time, but even her reassurances couldn’t stop the nagging doubt from creeping in. what if it wasn’t enough? what if, no matter how hard you pushed yourself, your technique still paled in comparison to the others? the thought of being cut prematurely haunted you, lingering in the back of your mind like a storm cloud threatening to break.

but it wasn’t until you were unexpectedly called to the headmaster’s office that true fear gripped you. your heart pounded as you made your way through the halls, every step feeling heavier than the last. was this it? had they already decided that you weren’t good enough? the possibility loomed over you, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

as you reached the emile’s office, you hesitated for a brief moment before gathering the courage to knock.

“come in,” a voice called from the other side.

taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open and stepped inside. the office was grand yet intimidating, with towering bookshelves filled with ballet history, framed photos of past company stars, and the sharp scent of polished wood lingering in the air. seated behind an ornate mahogany desk was emile, a man whose presence commanded respect. across from him sat miss cassandra, your primary instructor, her sharp eyes scanning you the moment you entered.

“take a seat,” he instructed, motioning to the chair across from him.

your heart pounded as you settled into the seat, your palms pressing nervously against your skirt. miss cassandra crossed her legs, folding her hands in her lap as the headmaster leaned forward, scrutinizing you for a moment before finally speaking.

“you’ve been here for a few weeks now,” he began, his tone calm but firm. “and i imagine you’ve realized just how competitive this company is.”

you swallowed, nodding.

“the reality is, ballet is as much about physicality as it is about artistry. this company—this industry—demands precision, discipline, and most importantly, the right body for it,” he continued. “your lines, your turnout, the way your feet work—it all matters. you have potential, but potential alone doesn’t earn you a place here.”

miss cassandra finally spoke, her voice carrying the same sharpness you were used to hearing in class. “you’re a hard worker, and that’s good. but hard work only goes so far when your technique isn’t where it needs to be. your turnout is lacking, and without proper turnout, your movements will never have the seamless quality we expect here.”

you gripped your hands together, your stomach twisting uncomfortably.

“the workshop performance is approaching,” the headmaster reminded you. “that performance will determine whether or not you earn your spot in the company. if you don’t show significant improvement by then, i’m afraid you won’t be able to continue training here.”

the words struck you like a blow, knocking the air from your lungs. you had known this company was difficult, but hearing those words so plainly was different—it was a direct challenge, a warning that time was running out.

“we aren’t saying this to discourage you,” miss cassandra said, her gaze piercing. “we’re telling you this so you understand the reality of what’s at stake. you have work to do, and not much time to do it.”

emile nodded. “if you truly want this, you need to prove it. show us that you belong here.”

you felt the weight of their expectations pressing down on you, but beneath the fear, there was determination. you had fought too hard to get here—leaving wasn’t an option.

“i understand,” you said quietly, but with conviction.

miss cassandra studied you for a moment before nodding. “good. then i suggest you start working twice as hard, because the clock is ticking.”

with that, the meeting was over. you stood, offering a polite nod before turning toward the door. as you stepped into the hallway, the reality of the situation fully set in. you had only a few weeks to prove yourself.

back at the dorm, you sat on the edge of your bed, your hands clasped together in your lap as you tried to process everything. the headmaster’s words played over and over in your mind, intertwining with miss cassandra’s sharp critiques. the weight of it all felt suffocating.

celeste sat beside you, her arm draped around your shoulders in a comforting squeeze. “hey, don’t let it get to you too much,” she said softly. “you’re working hard. that has to count for something.”

you let out a shaky breath. “i don’t know if it’s enough.”

celeste frowned, nudging you gently. “of course it’s enough. you’re not some talentless beginner. you got accepted here for a reason. if they didn’t see potential, you wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

you wanted to believe her, but emile’s warning still rang in your ears. potential isn’t enough.

before you could respond, the door to the dorm swung open, and yeji walked in, dropping her bag onto the floor with a thud. she glanced at the two of you before cocking her head. “what’s with the sad puppy look?”

celeste shot her a look. “she just had a talk with the headmaster.”

yeji raised a brow. “oh?” she tossed her shoes off and sat on her bed, crossing her legs. “let me guess. he told you your technique isn’t good enough?”

your silence was enough.

yeji sighed, shrugging as she pulled her hair into a ponytail. “well… he’s right.”

celeste stiffened beside you. “yeji.”

“what?” yeji leaned back against her pillows. “i’m just saying. this isn’t some feel-good ballet academy. if you can’t keep up, you get cut. that’s how it works.”

your stomach twisted at her bluntness. you knew she wasn’t saying it to be outright cruel—it was just how she was. but that didn’t make it any easier to hear.

celeste shot up from the bed, glaring at yeji. “she knows that. she doesn’t need you rubbing it in.”

yeji rolled her eyes. “i’m not rubbing it in. i’m just being realistic.”

you exhaled, rubbing your temples. “she’s not wrong.”

celeste groaned, turning back to you. “no, don’t listen to her. you can do this. you just have to work harder, and i’ll help you however i can, okay?”

you nodded, offering her a small smile of appreciation.

yeji sighed dramatically, swinging her legs onto the bed. “i’m just saying, you should get used to criticism. if you can’t handle a little tough love, you won’t last here.”

celeste threw a pillow at her. “your love is just tough. there’s no love in it.”

yeji smirked, catching the pillow with ease. “fine. then consider it free advice.”

celeste huffed, plopping back down onto your bed with a determined look on her face. “alright, enough of this depressing mood. we need a distraction.”

you blinked at her, confused. “a distraction?”

she nodded, a mischievous grin forming. “yes. you, my dear, need a break. and i have just the thing—clubbing.”

your eyes widened. “clubbing?”

“clubbing,” she confirmed, already pulling out her phone. “we’re getting dressed up, going out, and having fun. you’ve been working your ass off, and it’s time to let loose for one night.”

yeji scoffed from her bed, stretching her arms over her head. “you? at a club?” she eyed you skeptically. “are you even the type?”

celeste shot her a glare. “of course she is. she just doesn’t know it yet.” then, without waiting for a response, she started texting. “i’m messaging minho, jisung, yuqi, and felix. we’re making a night of it.”

you groaned, already feeling exhausted at the thought. “celeste, i don’t know—”

“nope! no excuses.” she stood, hands on her hips. “you’re stressed, you’re overworked, and you’re doubting yourself. what you need is a night of dancing, drinks, and good music. trust me.”

yeji smirked. “i’ll go.”

“of course you will,” celeste muttered before turning back to you. “come on, y/n. when’s the last time you did something fun?”

you hesitated. you weren’t exactly the clubbing type, and the thought of being in a crowded place with loud music and flashing lights wasn’t something you typically sought out. but… maybe celeste had a point.

you had been completely consumed by ballet. the stress of proving yourself was weighing heavier by the day, and if you didn’t let loose even a little, you might actually implode.

“…fine,” you finally relented with a sigh.

celeste cheered, throwing her arms around you. “yes! i knew you’d come around.”

yeji chuckled, shaking her head. “this should be interesting.”

celeste turned back to her phone, quickly typing away. “minho says he’s in. jisung too. yuqi and felix are coming, so that means we officially have a squad.”

you bit your lip, nerves bubbling in your chest. what had you just agreed to?

celeste clasped her hands together. “alright, girls. let’s get ready. y/n, you’re gonna look so good, no man will be able to take his eyes off you.”

when you walked up to the club with celeste, yeji, and yuqi, jisung’s eyes lit up. it was almost as if he was in awe of you. of course, you didn’t notice, still too hung up on what the headmaster said to you that afternoon. 

jisung’s eyes roamed over you as you approached, his lips parting slightly as if he had something to say but couldn’t quite find the words. you looked different tonight—more than just dressed up. there was something about you that drew his attention like a magnet, something that made his chest feel a little tighter.

"you look..." he started, pausing as if searching for the right word. "wow."

you blinked, momentarily pulled from your thoughts. "huh?"

jisung let out a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "you look beautiful, y/n." his voice was softer now, almost hesitant.

you stared at him for a moment, then scoffed lightly, shaking your head. "yeah, right."

his brows furrowed. "i'm serious."

you offered him a small, polite smile. "thanks, jisung," you said, even though you didn’t quite believe him. it was a sweet thing to say, but after the afternoon you had, it was hard to see yourself as anything other than inadequate.

jisung frowned slightly, as if he could sense exactly what you were thinking. but before he could say anything more, minho clapped a hand on his shoulder. "are we going in or what?"

jisung gave you one last glance before nodding. "yeah. let’s go."

as the group made their way into the club, jisung couldn’t help but wonder why you brushed off his compliment so easily. and why, no matter how many people were around you, you still looked like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders.

once you all stepped inside, the pulsing bass of the music vibrated through your chest, the dim, colorful lights casting a glow over the crowded dance floor. the group pooled their money together for a table near the edge of the club, a spot just far enough from the speakers to talk but still close enough to feel the infectious energy of the room.

drinks were passed around, laughter filled the air, and everyone seemed to be letting loose—everyone except you. no matter how much you tried to shake it off, the nagging weight of earlier conversations pressed heavily on your mind, dragging you down. you sat there, absently swirling the liquid in your glass, your gaze unfocused as your thoughts spiraled.

that was when jisung carefully reached over, plucking the drink from your fingers and setting it down on the table.

blinking, you turned to look at him, confusion flickering across your face. “what are you doing?”

his fingers wrapped gently around your hand, giving it a light tug as a playful smile tugged at his lips. "you didn’t get all dressed up just to sit here and overthink, did you?"

you opened your mouth to protest, but before you could, he nodded toward the dance floor, where bodies moved fluidly under the flashing lights. “come on,” he urged, his voice warm and inviting.

for a second, you hesitated. but the way jisung looked at you—like he wanted nothing more than to pull you away from whatever storm was brewing in your mind—made it hard to say no.

you hesitated for a moment, glancing between jisung and the crowded dance floor. the pulsing music, the flashing lights, the bodies moving in sync—it was all so overwhelming. but then you looked at him. his eyes held no pressure, only warmth, only the unspoken promise that he was there, that he wanted you to have fun.

with a breath, you gave in. “okay,” you said softly.

a grin broke across jisung’s face as he gently led you onto the floor, weaving through the crowd until you found a space of your own. the rhythm of the music pulsed around you, a beat so infectious that it was impossible not to move. you started off slow, still a little unsure, your body stiff with lingering stress.

but jisung was different. he wasn’t stiff, not even a little. he moved with an effortless ease, his body in tune with the music like he was born for it. and as he danced beside you, he encouraged you with little smiles, playful nods, the way he subtly matched your movements to make it feel less like you were dancing alone.

“see?” he leaned in, his voice low but audible over the music. “not so bad, right?”

you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “i guess not.”

the tension in your shoulders began to melt away as the music took over, and for the first time that night, you felt lighter. jisung noticed it too—the way your movements became freer, how your laughter slipped out more easily. and god, did he think you were beautiful like this.

the flashing club lights illuminated your features in shifting shades of blue, purple, and red. your hair framed your face just right, your eyes shining even in the dim light. jisung had always thought you were beautiful, but here, seeing you loosen up, seeing you smile after looking so down all evening, it made his chest tighten in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

you twirled, laughing as the movement made you stumble slightly, and instinctively, jisung’s hands found your waist, steadying you before you could lose your balance. it was just for a second, but when you looked up at him, your faces only inches apart, he felt his breath catch.

his hands lingered just a little longer than necessary before he cleared his throat, stepping back with a grin, though his heart was racing. “careful,” he teased. “don’t go falling for me now.”

you rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “as if.”

but the way jisung looked at you in that moment, his gaze lingering, his playful smirk softening into something fonder—if only you knew just how much he already had fallen. 

after what felt like an eternity of dancing—your body light with adrenaline, the weight of the past weeks momentarily forgotten—jisung finally pulled away with a breathless grin. “alright, alright,” he laughed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “even i need a break.”

you chuckled, nodding in agreement. “yeah, i could use a drink.”

together, you weaved through the throng of people toward the bar, where the neon glow cast everything in shades of blue and purple. jisung leaned against the counter, signaling to the bartender while you stood beside him, catching your breath. your skin was still warm from dancing, your heart racing—not just from the exertion, but from the lingering feeling of jisung’s hands on your waist, the way he had looked at you under the flashing lights.

you exhaled deeply, shaking the thoughts away as the bartender slid two drinks across the counter. you reached for yours absentmindedly, lifting it to your lips—

“didn’t expect to see you here.”

you froze, your fingers tightening around your glass. you knew that voice. slowly, you turned your head, and there he was.

hyunjin.

up close, the dim club lighting softened the sharp angles of his face, but his presence was just as striking as ever. his platinum hair fell slightly into his dark eyes, which were locked onto you with an intensity that made your heart stutter. he smelled faintly of expensive cologne and alcohol, the scent mingling with the warmth of the crowded club.

you swallowed, willing your expression to stay neutral. “didn’t expect to see you either,” you replied, keeping your voice even.

hyunjin tilted his head slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “didn’t take you for the clubbing type.” his eyes flickered over you, taking in the way your dress hugged your figure, how different you looked outside of the company’s strict ballet attire.

you raised a brow. “and what type did you take me for?”

he chuckled, resting his elbow on the bar beside you, leaning in just slightly. “hardworking. serious. someone who wouldn’t waste time on things like this.”

you scoffed, crossing your arms. “so i can’t let loose once in a while?”

“i didn’t say that.” he lifted his drink to his lips, taking a slow sip before continuing. “it’s just… surprising.”

you chuckled and shook your head. “do you even know my name?” you raised a brow as you looked up at him. he looked down at you, that smirk never leaving his stupidly gorgeous face. 

“y/n l/n.” he smiled. “how could i forget a face like yours?”

something about the way he said it sent an odd thrill through you. it wasn’t just his words—it was the way he was looking at you.

before you could come up with a response, another voice cut in.

“everything alright here?”

you turned to see jisung standing beside you, his gaze flicking between you and hyunjin. his usual warmth was still there, but there was something else too—a quiet protectiveness, a subtle tension in the way he held himself.

hyunjin looked at jisung, then back at you, his smirk widening slightly, as if he understood something neither of you had said out loud. he straightened, stepping back slightly. “didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said smoothly, though the glint in his eyes told you he had done exactly that.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “we were just talking.”

“of course,” hyunjin mused, swirling the ice in his glass. then, with one last glance at you—one that lingered a second too long—he gave a small nod. “enjoy your night, y/n l/n.”

and just like that, he was gone, disappearing back into the crowd, leaving behind the scent of cologne and the faintest trace of something else.

jisung watched hyunjin disappear into the crowd, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. he turned back to you, studying your face—the way your eyes lingered on the spot hyunjin had stood, the way your fingers still gripped your drink a little too tightly.

“you okay?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

you nodded, but it wasn’t convincing. “yeah.”

jisung let out a breath, forcing a small chuckle. “you know… for someone who just met him, you sure look at him like he hung the stars.”

your eyes snapped to his, caught off guard by the edge in his voice. it wasn’t anger—not exactly. but there was something there, something deeper than his usual lightheartedness.

you shifted on your feet, suddenly feeling exposed. “i don’t—” you cut yourself off, shaking your head. “it’s not like that.”

jisung gave you a look, one that told you he wasn’t buying it. “isn’t it?”

you swallowed, trying to find the right words, but none came. because deep down, you knew there was truth in what he was saying. there was something about hyunjin—his presence, his reputation, the effortless way he pulled you in. it was exciting. addictive, even.

jisung sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “look, i’m not trying to ruin your night.” his voice was softer now, but there was a weight behind it. “i just…” he hesitated, then forced a small smile. “never mind.”

“no, what?” you frowned, stepping closer. “tell me.”

jisung studied you for a moment, then shook his head with a chuckle that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “nothing. just… be careful with him, okay?”

you wanted to ask why. wanted to pry into whatever was making his expression so guarded. but before you could, celeste appeared beside you, draping an arm over your shoulder.

“there you are! come on, we bought another round.”

you glanced back at jisung, but he had already taken a step away, masking whatever he was feeling with his usual easygoing grin.

“yeah,” you murmured, forcing yourself to focus back on the present. “let’s go.”

but even as celeste dragged you toward the bar, you couldn’t shake the feeling that jisung’s words weren’t just a warning.

they were a plea.

the air in the studio was thick with tension, the usual routine of class disrupted by the presence of an audience. against the far wall, the company’s most renowned dancers, including hyunjin, sat in a neat line alongside the instructors and the director himself, their watchful eyes scanning the room as they whispered amongst themselves.

it had been a few months since your first day at lumière, and you’d finally begun to settle into the rigorous schedule, but today’s class wasn’t just another routine. today, they were scouting for dancers to be featured in the upcoming workshop—a performance that could solidify your place at the company.

your heart pounded as you stepped up to the barre, standing between celeste and yeji. yeji, always composed, adjusted her arm with practiced ease, while celeste rolled her shoulders back, flashing you a reassuring glance. “relax,” she mouthed.

you tried. you really did. but when the pianist began to play, signaling the start of class, your limbs felt stiffer than usual.

the warm-up passed in a blur of tendus and pliés, and as the class progressed, the instructors led everyone to the center for adagios and pirouettes. it was there, under the relentless scrutiny of the panel, that your nerves truly took hold.

“focus on turnout,” miss cassandra’s voice rang out as she walked the floor, correcting postures with a tap of her stick. “shoulders down, breath through the movement.”

you moved into your développé, willing yourself to remain poised, but as you extended your leg, you felt the slightest tremor in your ankle. it wasn’t much, but you knew the observers were trained to notice every detail.

beside you, yeji moved with the elegance of someone who had spent her entire life training for this moment. she was fluid, controlled, every movement effortless. it was no surprise—she was practically a shoo-in for the workshop.

celeste, meanwhile, danced with raw passion. even if her technique wasn’t as pristine, her expressiveness more than made up for it. you could tell she was determined to stand out today.

then there was jisung. though he was newer to classical ballet, he moved with an ease that made it seem as if he had been doing it all his life. his jumps were strong, and his turns were quick yet smooth, full of a quiet confidence that was captivating.

when it was time for pirouettes, you swallowed hard. you weren’t bad at them, but they weren’t your strongest skill either. you tried to keep your focus on the movement, on your breath, on the control of your core—but the moment you spotted hyunjin watching you from across the room, your rhythm faltered.

you stumbled slightly on your third rotation, stepping out of the turn to catch yourself.

you heard a quiet hum of disapproval from the instructors’ side. heat rushed to your face, but you kept going, forcing yourself to push through.

out of the corner of your eye, you saw hyunjin tilt his head, an unreadable expression on his face. he leaned in slightly as if saying something to the dancer beside him, and for a split second, your stomach twisted with uncertainty. was he talking about you?

before you could dwell on it, the instructor clapped her hands. “next group.”

you exhaled sharply and stepped back, catching jisung’s glance as you did. he gave you a small, encouraging smile, one that you tried to return despite the weight in your chest.

the class continued with across-the-floor exercises, and though you did your best, you couldn’t shake the feeling that today had not been your strongest performance.

as the final reverence came to a close, the director finally stepped forward.

“thank you all,” he said, his hands clasped behind his back. his voice was calm, measured, but held a weight that made your stomach churn. “we’ve been observing closely, and over the next few days, we will be making our selections for the workshop.” his sharp eyes swept the room. “work hard. your future here depends on it.”

with that, he turned and left, the rest of the observers trailing behind him.

hyunjin was the last to go.

as he stepped out, his gaze flickered toward you once more.

you had only meant to make a quick stop at the drugstore, picking up a few necessities—shampoo, toothpaste, maybe even a face mask to treat yourself after the grueling week of training. but as you browsed the shelves, a familiar figure caught your eye from the corner of the aisle.

at first, you froze, your mind scrambling to process whether or not you were seeing things. maybe it was just someone who looked like him—platinum blond hair wasn’t exactly common, but it wasn’t impossible. still, curiosity got the best of you.

gripping your shopping basket a little tighter, you stepped out of the aisle and glanced in the direction he had gone. the moment your eyes landed on him, any doubt vanished. it was hyunjin.

he was standing by the skincare section, intently reading the label of a serum bottle, his sharp features relaxed in concentration.

without giving yourself time to overthink it, you strode toward him, adopting a casual air as you stopped beside him. “i’m starting to think you’re stalking me,” you quipped, a teasing grin tugging at your lips as you pretended to inspect the same shelf he was browsing.

hyunjin turned his head slightly, his lips curling into a smirk as he met your gaze. “oh?” he mused, raising a brow. “and here i thought you were stalking me.”

you scoffed, picking up a random moisturizer just to keep your hands busy. “i was here first.”

“so you say.” he let out a soft chuckle before setting the serum back on the shelf, shoving a hand into the pockets of his hoodie. “didn’t expect to see you outside the studio. you look different compared to how i saw you the other day.”

you blinked at him, momentarily thrown off. “different how?”

hyunjin tilted his head, scanning you briefly. “less serious. less…” he trailed off, searching for the word before finally settling on, “stressed.”

you let out a small laugh, though the statement made something twist in your chest. “guess that means i should work on my poker face.”

his smirk lingered as he leaned a bit closer, voice dropping slightly. “or maybe you should learn to loosen up.”

your breath hitched at the proximity, but you quickly masked it, rolling your eyes instead. “says the guy who takes himself so seriously he can’t even enjoy a simple trip to the drugstore.” you gestured toward the products in front of him. “what are you even looking for?”

“face cleanser,” he said, picking up a bottle. “ran out.”

you feigned interest, tilting your head as you examined it. “is that the secret to looking like a prince on stage?”

hyunjin scoffed, shaking his head. “it’s just face wash.”

“sure it is,” you teased, placing the moisturizer back on the shelf. “next you’re gonna tell me you don’t have some ten-step skincare routine.”

he chuckled, running a hand against his hair. “maybe i do. gotta keep up appearances, right?”

you found yourself smiling, the usual nerves you felt around him easing just a little.

for a moment, the conversation settled into a comfortable pause. then, with a glance at your basket, hyunjin nodded toward it. “what about you? shopping spree?”

you scoffed. “hardly. just grabbing some things i ran out of.”

“hm.” he tapped his fingers against the edge of the shelf, studying you for a moment before flashing a lopsided grin. “well, don’t let me keep you from your very important purchases.”

you rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. “yeah, wouldn’t want to get in the way of your skincare journey, either.”

just as you were about to turn away, hyunjin’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“hey.”

you glanced back at him, heart inexplicably picking up speed as he casually dropped a bottle of cleanser into his basket.

“have you had dinner yet?” he asked, his voice smooth yet unreadable. he took a slow step toward you, his head tilting slightly as he studied your reaction.

you froze, caught completely off guard. your fingers instinctively tightened around the handle of your basket. “um… no. not yet, anyway.” the words tumbled from your lips, slightly uneven.

hyunjin’s mouth twitched in amusement, clearly noticing your sudden shift in demeanor. “then let’s eat something,” he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

your brows lifted slightly. “what, like… together?”

he let out a breath of laughter, shaking his head. “no, separately. at the same place. sitting at different tables.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the tiny smile forming at the corners of your lips. “alright, smartass. i just wasn’t expecting you to—” you paused, suddenly hesitant. was this… a date? or was he just being friendly?

“wasn’t expecting me to what?” hyunjin prompted, watching you with an unreadable expression.

you shifted on your feet. “to, i don’t know, invite me to dinner?”

his smirk softened, and he shrugged. “why not? i’m hungry, you’re hungry. might as well eat together. better yet, how about we go to my place?”

it was such a simple reason. no deeper meaning, no hidden intentions—at least, none that you could decipher. and yet, something about the idea of sharing a meal with hyunjin made your stomach flip in a way you weren’t sure how to handle.

“okay,” you said before you could overthink it. “yeah. sure.”

hyunjin grinned, satisfied. “good.” he glanced down at your basket. “you done shopping?”

you nodded, and together, the two of you made your way toward the checkout counter.

as you stood in line, you stole a quick glance at him. this was the most time you had spent with him outside of class, and despite your initial nerves, it felt… natural. easy, even.

little did you know, jisung had texted you while you were shopping. and when you didn’t answer, he’d decided to call.

just as you placed your items on the counter, your phone buzzed in your pocket, you pulled it out, seeing the screen light up with a familiar name. jisung.

you hesitated, glancing at hyunjin, who was now placing his own items on the counter.

as the phone buzzed in your hand, you hesitated for a second before pulling it out and answering.

"hey, jisung," you said, trying to sound casual as you stepped slightly away from hyunjin.

"hey! i was just wondering if you wanted to grab some food or something? you kinda disappeared after class, and i figured you could use a break." his voice was as warm as ever, that familiar lilt making you feel at ease.

you chewed on your lip, glancing at hyunjin, who was busy paying for his things. “oh, um… i actually just made plans to eat.”

“with who?” jisung asked lightly, but you could hear the slight shift in his tone.

you hesitated. “hyunjin.”

there was a beat of silence on the other end. not long—just a second—but enough for you to notice.

“oh,” jisung finally said. “cool. guess he’s finally got you under his spell, huh?” his attempt at humor didn’t fully mask the disappointment in his voice.

you sighed, feeling a slight pang of guilt. “it’s just dinner. it wasn’t even planned or anything, we just ran into each other at the store.”

“right.” another pause. then, a forced chuckle. “well, have fun, then.”

you frowned at his sudden change in demeanor. “jisung, don’t be like that.”

“like what?” he let out a small laugh, but it lacked his usual warmth. “look, you can hang out with whoever you want. i was just calling to check in, that’s all.”

you exhaled through your nose, wanting to say more, but before you could, he beat you to it.

“i’ll see you later, okay?”

and before you could respond, the call ended.

you lowered your phone, staring at the screen for a moment. something about the way he had sounded unsettled you. you knew jisung cared about you—he was one of your closest friends here—but this felt different.

“everything okay?” hyunjin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. he was standing next to you now, his bag in one hand, yours in the other, both receipts discarded. you didn’t even realize he bought your things for you, you were still hung up on what han said.

you forced a small smile, tucking your phone away. “yeah. just… my friend checking in.”

hyunjin raised a brow, but didn’t press. “ready to go?”

you nodded, pushing aside the lingering thoughts of jisung as you followed hyunjin out the door.

taglist: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek @babigriin @tirena1 @nickgurl4life

©chxnsgirl do not repost, translate, or copy my works in any way, shape, or form.

[jujutsukgojo]

My uncle Sukuna

Sukuna x reader

Summary: You find a pink haired kid lost in a park who is looking for his uncle Kuna.

a/n: Fluff.

The sun shines brightly and the birds flow freely. Kids dance and run around while the parents talk among themselves. Everyone that runs into you is liable to get drop kicked, no matter the age. Normally, you’d never have thought that or feel this frustrated. However, today is just not the day to be around anyone's overbearing energy. All around with loud voices, kids with sticky fingers up their nose, ice cream on their face and dirt on their clothes from playing so much; joggers, dog walkers, all dumb shit. This wouldn’t have bothered you if customers and your manager weren’t dickwads. 

You inhale deeply, smelling the scent of pretzels, freshly cut grass, and the specific fragrance that only sunshine can bring. The crisp and refreshing breeze blows against your skin. It is a beautiful day with ideal weather. If you could, you’d smile along with all of these happy faces.

  To the left is an unoccupied bench. You sit down to rest your legs. If only the lighthearted laughter of the people could tear the memory of the events today. At work, two separate, problematic customers came in and somehow dipped themselves into toxic waste and gained the superpower to step on every one of your nerves as they annoyed, harassed, and threatened you. Naturally, the manager believed their stories. Now, you have to go to the director to report all three of them.

  Thankfully, you were able to record everything with your phone that you hid secretly. 

  God, you’re going to lose your job.

You lower your head to your hands. Maybe you should be looking for a new job or preparing your meeting with the director rather than sit here in the park, letting those assholes get to you. 

  To your left you hear a sniffle. Just under a tree is a boy with cargo shorts and a snapback hat on his head. Underneath the dark cap are pink strands of hair. You mind your business and close your eyes. He’s probably upset about something with the playground. The boy goes to you and wipes his nose. 

“Can you help me?” His small voice sounds unsure and sweet. He knows he’s not supposed to talk to strangers, yet he decided you seemed safe enough to ask for help. You don't have the energy for this. 

  “Sure, what’s up?”

“I lost my uncle ‘Kuna.” Even though you are having a shit day, you can’t leave him here and risk something happening to him. You feel awful now, but it'd be ten times worse if something happened to the child. For a minute, you can suck it up and then go back to sulking. 

“Alright, what’s he look like?” He taps his chin then raises his hand. “All the way up and has a skateboard! He’s got pink hair like me and he says he’s got lots of ink.”

  “Okay, we’re looking for a bigger version of you with tattoos.”

“He’s ugly, though. Not me.” You chuckle and bend down to his height. “Welp, what’s your name? Mine is (Y/n).”

“I’m Yuuji!” He smiles and reveals a missing tooth. “Hi, Yuuji. Let’s go find your uncle Sukuna, eh?”

  You walk with the boy hand in hand along the pavement. You politely gesture to men who somewhat fit the description. Most of them have hats on, so it’s a little difficult to see who they are but Yuuji swears they aren’t uncle Sukuna. 

“Where’s the last place you saw him?” 

“Mmm…there!” He points to his left. Of course, he points to the ice cream vendor. “Oh, really?” You drawl.

“Yep!” He's lying through his damn teeth.

“Mhm, we’ll go over there and ask the vendor.” The portly man hands a cone to a couple of kids who bounce happily. He tips his hat at them and goes back to mixing the contents in the tub. 

“And get ice cream.” He smiles brightly at you. You frown and lower yourself. “Be straight with me, where’d you last see him? We can get a cone, but I want to know.”

  Yuuji nods, slightly ashamed of his little trick. You walk to the cart so Yuuji can give the order. He picks vanilla and decides to eat it himself. “Okay, now where did you last see him?”

He hums and taps his little finger to his chin. “Mmm…I don’t remember.” He shrugs. 

“Oh my God.” You groan, rubbing your eyes. 

“He’s on a skateboard! He’s fast on it, too.” You sigh and hold Yuuji’s hand. He swings and sings as he skips beside you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was enjoying this. “There! Right there! Uncle ‘Kuna, I’m right here!”

  You follow Yuuji’s pointed finger at a man who resembles him greatly, minus a few details. They share the same face and pink hair except Uncle Kuna has tattoos and is one hell of a man. He flips his board with his feet to tuck it under his arm. 

  “What the hell, kid! Didn’t I tell you to stay close?!” Yuuji hides behind your leg slightly. With a quieting voice, Yuuji mumbles, “I saw something.”

He sucks his teeth. “Fucking brat,” He grabs Yuuji by his head and brings him in to ruffle his hair. “Don’t do that shit again.” 

  You shift on your feet awkwardly. “So…I’ll get going. Nice to meet you, Yuuji, Uncle Kuna.”

“Sukuna. My name’s Sukuna.” He gazes into your eyes with a soft and yet curious focus. You suck in your lips as warmth flows through your body. “Bye Sukuna.”

“You don’t want to hang out with us? Uncle Kuna was teaching me to do a flip!”

  You try to hide your smile and contain your laugh as Yuuji focuses on Sukuna’s skateboard. He fumbles the flip but is completely determined to not give up. “You’re looking good, Yuuji!” He needs a smaller board.

  Sukuna looks at him with pride even though he’s failing. Yuuji growls when he falls again. “Here, lemme show you.”

  Sukuna’s red eyes trail your figure and land on your face. “Would you like to see, poppy?” You nod and as smooth as silk, he does an experienced flip that you or any amateur couldn't perform. You clap your hands and chuckle. Although it was encouraged by his little nephew, you can’t help but think of Sukuna acting like a boy showing off for a girl. Back when you were younger, it was a secondhand embarrassment but now, strangely, you like it. At least when he does it.

   Yuuji beams with pride. “Wanna go get some ice cream?”

“I just bought you some.”

Sukuna hums and asks, “I bet you didn’t pay for hers, did ya squirt?”

“Nope.” At least Yuuji’s being honest now. 

“C’mon. I’ll get you some.” Sukuna flips his board to his hand. He gathers Yuuji in his other. “Just in case you try to run off again.”

  You rub your arm. “I don’t want to impose-”

“You’re not. Let’s go.” He leaves no room for discussion. Instead, he walks away as if he runs the world. Sukuna fully expects you to follow him. Well, at least you’ll get ice cream. 

 You tell Sukuna your favorite flavor and he hands you the cone. His hand is calloused and bigger than yours. “Do you like it?” Yuuji’s toothless grin is wide and contagious. “Yeah, yeah, I do. Thank you, Sukuna.”

 “Ahem!” 

“Thank you too, Yuuji.” The boy nods and his dark brown eyes show the true color of honey as the setting sun shines on them. After you take a lick of your treat, you say, “We should get going. It’s sunset and I’m sure your folks would want you home. No reason to let Uncle Kuna get you in trouble.” You tickle Yuuji’s neck. 

“Ah, my brother’s gone. The only people he has are me and the old man.” Great, now you’re a jackass. You stutter an apology which Sukuna interrupts. “It’s fine.”

  His body seems tense enough for you to decide to take your leave. 

  “I’m so sorry. Um, I’ll see you around.” You turn away from them and wave. Even though what you did wasn’t bad, it’s still a little awkward and has now been made even more so since you’re running away. 

“You can drop me off at home, Uncle Kuna!” 

“We are going home.” Yuuji shakes his head at his uncle. “No! You drop me off and walk her home.” Sukuna scoffs at his nephew and smacks him on the head. The boys rubs his head. “Hey, don’t hit me after all I did!”

“What?” Your question turns their heads. It’s amazing how alike they look other than the age difference and tattoos. Yuuji puts his hat back on and gives you a toothy grin. Sukuna shuts him up by delivering another smack. 

  “C’mon, I’ll take you home.” Sukuna doesn’t get on his skateboard again the entire walk to his home. Apparently, you lack survival instincts, but he doesn’t give off creeper vibes. He’s intimidating and his compression sweater is doing him wonders. However, he isn’t scaring you. As weird as it is for someone who just met, it's comfortable. Almost as if you've known him for a long time. 

  Yuuji runs ahead and turns into a gate. Inside the barrier is a quaint home with a kid's bike next to the wall, and a few toys in the yard. He closes it and waves. “Bye, guys!”

 You raise your eyebrow in confusion and look at Sukuna who sighs and walks away. “Bye, (Y/n)! See you soon!” His cute round face reveals a mischievous smile. By the curve of his lips and the gleam of his eyes, you start to realize what's just taken place. Back then, Yuuji wasn't lost at all.

“So…does your nephew do this often?” Sukuna rolls his eyes. “Nah, this is the first time.”

“Hm, so Yuuji played cupid and is trying to hook his uncle up.” You chuckle now that you think about it. “Aye, not my idea. The brat’s got his own annoying ways.”

  The sun becomes even more beautiful as it lowers. The sky shows wonderous colors in the clouds, and a few lightning bugs float early. Sukuna side eyes you. “Did it work?”

  “We’ll see.” A big smile blooms on your face, erasing the horrible day.

[andy-15-07]

A Thanksgiving to Remember

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 1186| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The aroma of roasting turkey, sage, and cinnamon hung heavy in the air, a comforting blanket woven with the promise of Thanksgiving. Y/N, perched precariously on a kitchen stool, stretched to reach the top shelf of the pantry. “Do we have enough dried cranberries?” she called down to Pedro, who was wrestling a particularly stubborn butternut squash on the counter.

“I think so,” Pedro grunted, finally managing to halve the squash with a satisfying thwack. “But maybe grab another bag just in case. You know how my family is about their cranberry sauce.”

Y/N chuckled, grabbing a step stool and peering into the depths of the pantry. “Tell me about it. Remember last year when Aunt Maria almost started a brawl over the last spoonful?”

Pedro grinned, the memory clearly amusing him. “Oh, she’s a force of nature. But her cranberry sauce is legendary, I’ll give her that.”

Y/N found the cranberries and hopped down, placing the bag on the counter. “Right, cranberries secured. What’s next on the culinary agenda?”

“Mashed potatoes,” Pedro declared, brandishing the now-halved squash like a trophy. “And you know my rule – no lumps allowed.”

“Your rules are legendary too,” Y/N teased, bumping his shoulder playfully. “But I have to admit, your mashed potatoes are pretty spectacular.”

“Years of practice,” Pedro said with a wink. “Now, are you peeling or mashing?”

“Peeling,” Y/N replied, grabbing a peeler and a bowl of potatoes. “But you’re on gravy duty. Your mom’s recipe is a closely guarded secret, and I’m not about to mess with tradition.”

“Deal,” Pedro said, already gathering the ingredients for the gravy. “But you’re in charge of the stuffing. I still haven’t forgiven you for that oyster incident a few years back.”

Y/N shuddered dramatically. “Let’s never speak of that again. This year, it’s a purely vegetarian affair. No surprises.”

The kitchen filled with the comfortable rhythm of chopping, stirring, and the gentle hum of conversation. They worked side-by-side, a well-oiled machine honed by years of shared Thanksgivings.

“So,” Y/N said, breaking the comfortable silence, “are you excited for everyone to get here?”

Pedro paused, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Of course. It’s always chaos, but it wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without it. Although,” he added with a mischievous glint in his eye, “I’m a little worried about Uncle Carlos and his political opinions. He and your dad are going to clash again, I just know it.”

Y/N sighed. “Tell me about it. I’ve already warned Dad, but you know how he is. He can’t resist a good debate.”

“Which usually ends with everyone shouting and someone storming off to the living room,” Pedro finished. “Ah, family.”

“The best kind of chaos,” Y/N said, smiling. “But seriously, I’m looking forward to it. It’s been a while since we’ve all been together.”

“Me too,” Pedro agreed. “It’s nice to have everyone under one roof, even if it’s just for a few days.”

They continued working, the conversation flowing easily between them. They talked about their families, their work, their plans for the future. They laughed, they teased, they shared quiet moments of comfortable silence.

As the afternoon wore on, the kitchen transformed into a symphony of delicious smells. The turkey was browning beautifully in the oven, the mashed potatoes were creamy and smooth, the stuffing was fragrant with herbs and vegetables, and the gravy was rich and velvety.

“Okay,” Pedro said, wiping his hands on his apron, “I think we’re almost ready. Just need to set the table.”

Y/N nodded, grabbing the tablecloth and heading towards the dining room. Pedro followed close behind, carrying a stack of plates.

They worked together, quickly transforming the dining room into a festive space. The table was set with their best china, gleaming silverware, and colorful napkins. A vase of vibrant fall flowers sat in the center, adding a touch of elegance to the scene.

“Looks beautiful,” Y/N said, admiring their handiwork.

“Indeed,” Pedro agreed. “Now, all we need are the guests.”

Just as he finished speaking, the doorbell rang.

“They’re here!” Y/N exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Pedro grinned, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Let the chaos begin.”

The house quickly filled with the sounds of laughter, greetings, and the clatter of suitcases being dragged through the hallway. The aroma of Thanksgiving dinner mingled with the scent of perfume and cologne, creating a heady mix that was both familiar and comforting.

Family members arrived from near and far, each one bringing their own unique energy to the gathering. Aunt Maria, true to form, immediately took charge of the kitchen, offering unsolicited advice on the gravy. Uncle Carlos, as predicted, cornered Y/N’s dad in the living room, their voices rising in the heat of political debate. The children, fueled by sugar and excitement, raced through the house, their shrieks of laughter echoing through the halls.

Amidst the joyful chaos, Pedro and Y/N moved through the crowd, greeting their guests, offering drinks, and making sure everyone felt welcome. They were the anchors of the family, the glue that held everyone together.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the dining room, everyone gathered around the table. The turkey, golden brown and glistening, took center stage, surrounded by bowls of mashed potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and all the other traditional Thanksgiving dishes.

Pedro stood at the head of the table, carving the turkey with practiced ease. Y/N sat beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm.

“To family,” Pedro said, raising his glass.

“To family,” everyone echoed, their voices filled with warmth and gratitude.

The meal began, a symphony of happy chatter, shared stories, and the clinking of glasses. Even Uncle Carlos and Y/N’s dad seemed to have reached a truce, their political debate temporarily forgotten in the spirit of Thanksgiving.

As the evening wore on, the atmosphere grew more relaxed and intimate. The children, their energy finally waning, curled up on the couches, falling asleep amidst the soft murmur of adult conversation.

Pedro and Y/N found a quiet moment to slip away from the crowd, retreating to the porch to enjoy a breath of fresh air.

“It’s perfect,” Y/N said, leaning her head against Pedro’s shoulder.

“It is,” Pedro agreed, wrapping his arms around her. “Just like every year.”

They stood in comfortable silence, watching the stars twinkle in the night sky. The sounds of laughter and conversation drifted out from the house, a comforting reminder of the love and connection that bound them all together.

“Thank you,” Y/N whispered, turning to face Pedro.

“For what?” he asked, his eyes filled with love.

“For everything,” she replied. “For this, for us, for family.”

Pedro smiled, gently cupping her face in his hands. “I love you,” he said, his voice soft and sincere.

“I love you too,” Y/N replied, her eyes shining with tears of happiness.

They shared a long, tender kiss, a silent promise of their love and commitment to each other. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of family and the magic of Thanksgiving, they knew that they had everything they could ever need. They had each other.

[daylighted]

Hii! I really love your stanford!dean drabbles, soooo may I request a stanford dean fic with a shy!reader?? (kinda like nerd x jock dynamic) in which dean is trying to pursue reader but reader isn't sure if he really means it bc of his personality (mostly bc he is really flirty) and all with a bit of angst but also a lot fluff ofc (sorry if it's a bit cliche I'm a whore for this trope😭😭😭)

Btw hbd!!!!💝💝💝

thank u for the happy bday omfg 😭 it's still two months away unfortunately. LMAOFIDKDJ BUT I AM PUTTING THIS IN MY BACK POCKET TO REMEMBER THAT DAY !!!

anyways ahem let me lock in.

it's not that dean didn't have game, it seemed to be that dean had too much game. you didn't like when he leaned against the doorframe you were in, posing in that way that girls liked; ankles crossed, arms crossed, head tilted down to look at you. you didn't like the arm stretch pose over the top of the doorframe either. if he wasn't so attuned to how your face lit up in a blush when he was around, he would have been convinced that you just hated doors or something.

but no, you could talk to your friends just fine, it was just─ him. which is a hard pill to swallow in of itself, but some truths just couldn't be changed.

he'd make effort too, you know. really, desperately, lay it on thick to play the nice guy, the boy next door you seemed to want. it was hard, since that was the role he'd worked so damn hard to break out of, but he'd do it. there was something about the chase that had him coming back to you, even though the game wasn't nearly as fun for you.

dean didn't think, really, was the main point. didn't think about how intense this must have been for you, didn't think about the possibility of you just ─ not liking him back? didn't think at all.

he's outside your dorm to walk you to class. a habit for him, and an irritation for you. you never could get yourself to argue with him about it, though, the words always lodged in your throat. how did you, politely, tell a football guy to get fucked? he'd take it some other way. you knew football guys, and specifically, knew this one.

dean snatches your backpack from your arms before you can shrug it on, carrying it in front of him like a little purse. maybe, you kept him around for that, too. schoolbooks were heavy, okay?

but it's the little twitch in his mouth that seems to break you. "can you just... find someone else already?" you've come to know that smile as his only preliminary warning before he says something that burns your cheeks red and almost makes you believe that this pursuit is genuine, and not just to get in your pants.

dangerous smile. those dimples could just about make anyone's panties drop ─ you'd know, you were a self proclaimed part of that statistic.

dean actually looks taken aback, slowing his steps, and you'd almost feel relieved if you didn't feel so sick that you'd hurt his feelings. and, he had your backpack, so now it was awkward. now you'd have to snatch it back before you could scramble away.

"find someone else?"

in his head, he was breaking down your walls. slowly, but surely. and here was this painstaking reminder that every wall he broke was just replaced by another.

you stare at him for a long few seconds, the halls of your building thankfully empty, except for the two of you and every question hanging in the balance.

"i don't want someone else, sweet girl," he says, his face contorted in a wince like he actually was hurt by the suggestion at all. you recoil, too, but you don't back down. quiet as hell but a viper when you had to be. backed into this conversational corner, you had to be. "hell, you think i've been chasin' you around this whole damn campus because i'm waitin' to get bored of it and start somewhere else?"

he acts like it's an unreasonable suggestion. boys like him didn't go for the girls in the bleachers. boys like him liked short skirts and pom poms. at least, that's what the movies taught you. what was he going to do next, take off your glasses and tell you that you really were beautiful, who would have guessed?

when you don't answer, dean seems to shrink back a little. he shrugs his shoulders to adjust his backpack on his back, and yours that, at some point in these ticking minutes, he had slipped on his front. "believe me, honey, this is torturous for me, too."

"torturous?" you shake your head, internally wincing at how, of all of what he said, that was the thing you latched onto. "so go find─"

"someone else. i heard you the first time." dean shakes his head, clicking his tongue after another strenuous break of silence. "it's torturous," he says slower now, like you're the one who needs to be talked in gentle words to, not him, who's seen more concussions than he's seen his family, "because you are a breath away, and yet you are so damned determined to keep that breath between us. because you seem so weary, and strung up, like at any moment, i'm gonna pull the rug away and tell you that this was some joke, and you're gonna fall on your ass and feel awful."

well. it's not like he was wrong. but now the embarrassment is worn so prominently in the pink of your face, and those awful feelings he brought up are right there, if only because you'd been so convinced that he was a terrible guy without having any sort of evidence to back it up.

dean takes a step forward, not like approaching a wounded animal but rather like he's approaching a feral beast determined to snap at his fingers. "all i want," he breathes, shaking his head, palms up in some miniscule effort of surrender, "is to buy you a coffee."

"coffee," you echo back to him. you can't help it. you glance at his double backpack situation and you have to press your mouth together to keep from laughing. maybe dean wasn't lying about this, or everything else. would someone really willingly make themselves look so silly just to keep up a ruse?

dean nods. "coffee," he says, and he notices, of course he notices, that dazzling smile of yours. he's a strong man, but he can be made into something so weak with nothing but a pair of lips and glimmering eyes. "coffee yes?"

"you have class in ten minutes."

a shrug. two backpacks lift and fall. "conveniently, i've forgotten for the next forty five minutes about that class. whoops."

you have to look away. his eyes are so earnest and he is so surprisingly silly when he's not spouting cheesy pickup lines and doing stupid poses in doorframes that you almost cannot handle to face the full onslaught of his expression. again, he asks, "coffee yes?"

you huff out a laugh. what did you have to lose, really? you'd been planning to drown in classwork for a while at the library. coffee would definitely be needed to survive that.

with an exaggerated sigh, you manage to stutter out a, "coffee yes," if only so you could see that smile on his mouth again. you were weak, too, in that regard.

and so you got coffee with the football boy, and again the next day, and suddenly it wasn't such a scary thought to hold the football boy's hand.

[goldfades]

oooo crashout couple idea!!!! luka and reader celebrating libertys first win?????

i think this is my new fav "series", should i make a masterlist cause i have so many fics coming for it<333

The buzzer sounds, echoing through the packed arena, and the moment it does, it’s like the whole world bursts open.

The scoreboard lights up—final score, Liberty on top.

You barely have time to process it before your teammates crash into you, arms wrapping around you, shouts filling your ears. The crowd is roaring, the energy electric, but somehow, through all of it, you only hear one voice.

Luka’s.

You turn instinctively, eyes scanning the courtside seats, and there he is—on his feet, fists clenched, yelling like he just won the damn championship himself.

“LET’S GO, BABY!”

The cameras are already on him—because of course they are. He’s in your jersey, the one he insisted on wearing even though it’s slightly too snug across his broad shoulders, and he looks like he might just sprint onto the court himself.

You swear he nearly does. Security shifts, like they’re anticipating it.

You huff out a breathless laugh, shaking your head. Menace.

But he’s your menace.

And when your eyes meet across the court, Luka doesn’t just give you some polite, sportsmanlike nod.

No, he grins.

Big, wild, unfiltered.

The kind of grin that says, Yeah, I’m in love with you, and what about it?

And just like that, you don’t care about the cameras. You don’t care about the reporters already scribbling down notes about the Crash Out Couple and whatever chaos you’re about to bring to post-game.

All you care about is him.

And the way he’s looking at you like you just hung the damn moon.

--

Dinner is loud.

Your whole team is buzzing—high off the win, high off the adrenaline, high off the satisfaction of shutting down everyone who thought the Liberty were about to fold under pressure.

The restaurant is one of those dimly lit, upscale-but-still-lively places in the city where athletes and celebrities go to celebrate without completely being left alone. The air is thick with the scent of grilled steak and garlic butter, plates clinking, glasses being refilled before they even have a chance to empty.

And in the middle of it all, sitting next to you with his hand on your thigh like he needs to be touching you at all times, is Luka.

He’s trying—he really is.

He’s leaning in when your teammates talk, nodding at the right moments, even throwing in a couple of mhms and yeah, that’s crazy in an attempt to keep up with the fast-paced conversation.

But he’s outnumbered.

Badly.

At one point, Sabrina and Jonquel get into a heated discussion about defensive rotations, and you watch Luka’s brain short-circuit in real-time. He’s a franchise player, a basketball genius, but for some reason, this—being surrounded by a table full of hyper-competitive, opinionated, no-nonsense WNBA stars—is the thing that has him sweating.

You press your lips together, hiding your grin behind the rim of your wine glass.

It’s adorable.

This is the same man who drops 40-point triple-doubles like they’re nothing, who talks so much trash on the court it should be illegal, who once got into a screaming match with a ref in three different languages.

And yet, right now?

Right now, he’s nervously swirling the ice in his drink, completely unsure how to insert himself into the chaos.

Sabrina side-eyes him. “Luka, what do you think?”

Luka freezes, his hand tightening slightly on your thigh. “Huh?”

The table erupts in laughter.

You feel him exhale, his head dropping slightly, and it kills you how cute it is.

You pat his cheek, barely suppressing your amusement. “It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to keep up.”

He groans, tilting his head back dramatically. “Man, I’m trying.”

The teasing doesn’t let up after that.

Your teammates love this—getting to rattle Luka Dončić a little, reminding him that, despite all the MVP chatter and franchise player status, here, he’s just your boyfriend.

And Luka takes it, shaking his head, smirking, playing along even though you can tell he’s still a little overwhelmed.

But one thing about your man?

No matter where he is, no matter who’s around—he’s always going to have his hands on you.

Throughout dinner, his touch never leaves you.

His palm on your thigh, fingers tracing mindless patterns. His hand drifting up to squeeze your waist when you shift in your seat. His thumb brushing over your knuckles when he takes your hand in his. At one point, he rests his elbow on the back of your chair, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair, absentminded but so possessive.

And every time your teammates try to clown him, every time they tease him about being too quiet, about being so in love it’s making him shy, Luka just shrugs.

Like he knows.

Like he doesn’t care.

Like he’s completely fine with all of them seeing the way he needs to be close to you.

Like he’s saying, Yeah, I’m in love with her. And?

And honestly?

You love it.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hii!! So o just started rewatching Once Upon A Time, and I just had a thought about Jefferson omg!!

Would it be okay if I request a Jefferson x fem!reader where she is Emma’s sister (technically twin, but Y/n somehow got sent to a later time than Emma, so she’s in her early 20s so she’s younger than Emma)? After the curse is broken they find her at her barista job and she comes back to Storybook with them (after the Charmings prove they’re her parents and Emma is her sister). Anyways, she moves in with her parents and gets super close with them and the rest of her family (and everyone in storybook) and she happens to meet Jefferson when she’s checking out the bookstore in town? She immediately draws his eyes and he definitely flirts with her!! Anyways, they start dating in secret until her parents come across them cuddling (in Y/n’s defense her parents weren’t supposed to be home yet lol). David being soo protective like he was when he found out Hook was seeing Emma, and Mary being so shook lol, also Emma would be kind of shook too lol after her experience with him. Y/n and Jefferson just really love each other a lot, and his daughter really wants her dad to marry Y/n because she wants her to be her Mom🥹

True Love » Jefferson/Mad Hatter

Pairings: Jefferson x Female Reader

Summary: You and Jefferson find true love in each other shortly after the curse is broken.

Warnings: Fluff, tiny bit of Angst (not Jefferson), language, kissing, crying (happy tears), pet names

A/N: Thank you for the lovely request @kpopgirlbtssvt 🩵

A/N #2: I’m still catching up on Once Upon A Time since I haven’t watched it in a while. I apologize if I get anything wrong.

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

Immediately after the curse was finally broken, Emma went to find her parents with Henry, only to find out that her parents are Prince Charming and Snow White.

“Where’s your sister?” Snow asks.

“Sister? I have a sister?” Emma asks, looking from her mom to her dad.

“You have a twin sister. Her name is Y/N. Although, the curse may have affected her differently.” Charming tells her.

“What do you mean differently?” She asks.

Henry opened his book and flipped to the page you’re on and handed it to Emma. Emma took the book from Henry and read your part of the story. She was taken by surprise by what she read.

“Y/N got sent later in time, but she looks younger than me.” Emma reads aloud, looking up at her parents.

Snow and Charming nodded, confirming it.

“Where is she?” She asks.

“I know where she is.” Henry chimes in.

“Take me to where she is, Henry.” Emma says.

Henry nods with a smile and started walking with Emma, Snow, and Charming following behind him. They didn’t have to walk far. You were working at a coffee shop a street away.

“Where is she?” Emma asks, looking around the coffee shop.

“She’s the lady pouring coffee.” Henry says, pointing at you.

Emma looks over at you, looking at you for a moment before walking over to the counter.

“Hi! What can I get you guys?” You asked politely.

“I- Is there anyway that we can talk to you for a moment?” Emma asks.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before calling one of your coworkers over to take over for you. You followed Emma, Henry, Snow, and Charming to a table and sat down.

“What do you guys want to talk about?” You asked.

“I know this is going to sound crazy and trust me, I thought it was crazy at first too, but I’m your twin sisters and they’re your parents.” Emma tells you.

Your eyebrows shot up. You were caught by surprise.

“What?” You asked, making sure you heard her right.

“It’s true.” Snow says.

You sat there completely speechless. Henry opened his book and flipped it to the page that explains everything.

“This will help.” Henry says, putting the book in front of you.

You read the pages you’re on. The book confirms everything for you. Prince Charming and Snow White are your parents and Emma is your twin sister.

“How is this possible? How are you and I twins if I’m younger than you?” You asked, looking at Emma.

“From what I just learned, there was a curse that was just broken and when it was casted you got sent a little further in time than me.” Emma explains.

“Who casted the spell?” You asked.

“The Evil Queen.” Charming says.

You leaned back against the chair, trying your best to process everything you just learned.

“Everything we’re telling you is true, Y/N.” Snow says.

“It came as a shock to me as well.” Emma says.

“We would like to get to know you, if you’re ok with that.” Charming says.

You thought about it for a moment. You spent your whole life trying to figure out who your parents are and now that they’re sitting in front of you, along with your twin sister, you want to get to know that.

“I would like that.” You say softly, making them smile.

Over the next few months, you got to know your family and you ended up moving in with your parents. Today, you were going to a bookstore. You accidentally bumped into someone when you were trying to open the door to the bookstore.

“I am so sorry!” You apologized. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking.” You say.

“No need to apologize. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking either.” The man says with a small chuckle.

When you looked up at him, you couldn’t help but notice how pretty and how blue his eyes are. You got lost in them.

“Forgive me for staring, but you have very pretty eyes.” You complimented.

“I’m pretty sure all of the prettiness is reserved for you, darling.” He compliments flirtatiously, flashing a smile at you and making you blush. “I’m Jefferson.” He says, holding his hand out for you to shake.

“I’m Y/N.” You introduced yourself, shaking his hand.

“If it’s ok with you, I’d like to take you out on a date.” Jefferson says with a hopeful smile.

“I’d love that.” You smiled.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at 7pm.” He says.

“See you tomorrow.” You smiled.

You walked inside the bookstore with a smile on your face. All you could think about is your date with Jefferson. Instead of buying a book, you went straight home to look for something cute to wear on your date with him tomorrow night.

You and Jefferson got really close after a few dates. Jefferson found out you’re one of the daughters of Snow White and Prince Charming. You found out he has a daughter named Grace who you met the other. Jefferson brought her into the coffee shop you work at for you two to meet and you two get along perfectly. Shortly after meeting Grace, you and Jefferson made it official. Except, your parents don’t know about it. As of right now, you and Jefferson are cuddling in your bedroom.

“Grace really likes you.” Jefferson says, gently rubbing your back.

“I like her too. She’s a great kid.” You say, playing with his scarf.

“She is.” He smiles.

You looked up at him, admiring his handsome features.

“You’re staring, sweetheart.” Jefferson says, looking down at you.

“No I’m not. I’m simply admiring how handsome my boyfriend is.” You say.

“Well, in that case…” He kisses you. “You’re absolutely gorgeous.” He says softly.

You smiled and blushed before leaning up to kiss him softly and passionately. The kiss got cut short when your parents walked in your bedroom.

“Y/N!” Charming says loudly.

You and Jefferson separated from each other to see your parents standing in the doorway of your room.

“Mom, dad, what are you guys doing home early?” You asked, your face red with embarrassment.

“We should be asking you why he’s in your bed.” Charming says, gesturing to Jefferson and narrowing his eyes at him.

To save yourselves from even more embarrassment, Jefferson got off your bed.

“I’ll see myself out.” Jefferson grabbed his jacket. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart.” He says softly, kissing your cheek.

You gave him a smile and watched him leave.

“Dad, why would you do that?” You asked.

“I didn’t do anything. You had the Mad Hatter over without our permission.” He says.

“Him and I were just cuddling. That’s what boyfriends and girlfriends do.” You say.

Your parent’s eyes went wide when you said that.

“Sweetie, did you say boyfriend and girlfriend?” Snow asks, making sure she heard you right.

Your eyes went wide.

“Yes.” You mumbled.

Charming shook his head and walked out of your room.

“I love him, mom and he loves me.” You tell her. “Don’t make us break up. Him and I are happy together. What we have is true love.” You say.

“I’ll talk to your father.” She says.

You nodded as she walked out of your room.

“Darling?” Snow says softly as she walks in the living room where Charming is.

“I don’t want our daughter dating the Mad Hatter.” Charming says.

“She’s in love and happy with him.” She says.

“He’s a mad man.” He says.

“Don’t you want our daughter to be happy?” She asks.

“Yes. Just not with him.” He says.

“Whether we like it or not, she’s not going to break up with him.” She says.

Charming thought about it for a moment. All he wants is for his daughters to be happy. As much as he doesn’t like Jefferson, he makes you happy.

“Ok, fine.” Charming sighs. “Y/N, come here please!” He calls out.

You went downstairs to the living room where your parents are.

“Are you going to make me break up with Jefferson?” You asked, your eyes tearing up.

“As much as I don’t like him, no. I want you to be happy. You can stay with him.” Charming tells you.

You smiled and hugged both of your parents. They hugged you back and smiled.

“I love you guys so much!” You say.

“I want to give him a talk though.” He says.

“What kind of talk?” You asked.

“I just want to tell him what’s going to happen if he ever breaks your heart.” He says.

“He won’t do that, dad.” You say.

“I just want to be sure.” He says.

The next day, Jefferson and Grace met you at the coffee shop you work at. It’s something they do frequently after Jefferson picks Grace up from school. Jefferson gets Grace a hot chocolate and a treat and gets himself a tea as usual.

“Y/N!” Grace exclaims excitedly.

“Hi, Grace!” You smiled.

Grace ran over to you, greeting you with a hug. Jefferson greeted you with a kiss on your lips.

“How much more does your father hate me?” Jefferson asks.

“Not as much as you’d think. He wants to talk to you.” You say.

You got Jefferson and Grace their drinks and treats. They always sit at a table and wait for you to finish work.

“What does your father want to talk to me about?” Jefferson asks as you, him, and Grace walk inside your parent’s house.

“He just wants to make sure you don’t break my heart.” You say.

“You know I’m not going to do that, sweetheart.” He says, pecking your lips softly.

As a father himself, Jefferson understands why Charming wants to talk to him. He would do the same thing if it were Grace.

“Mom, dad! I’m home!” You announced throughout the house.

You found your parents in the living room.

“Hi, sweetie.” Snow smiles. “Let’s go to the kitchen so your father can talk to Jefferson.” She says.

You nodded and followed your mom to the kitchen with Grace following right beside you.

“Jefferson.” Charming says.

“Charming.” Jefferson says.

There was an awkward silence between the two men for a moment before Charming said something.

“Y/N tells me and Snow that you two are in love.” Charming says.

“That’s right.” Jefferson confirms. “Your daughter makes me happy.” He says.

Charming stared at him for a few seconds to see if he was telling the truth, in which he is.

“You have a daughter so I’m sure you’d say the same thing if the roles were reversed.” Charming begins. “If you break my daughter’s heart, I’ll hurt you in the same way you hurt her.” He says.

“I’m not going to break her heart. I love her and so does my daughter. She’s an amazing influence for Grace.” Jefferson says.

Emma walks in the house, walking in the living room, accidentally interrupting yours and hers dad’s conversation with Jefferson.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I thought mom and Y/N were in here.” Emma says.

“They’re in the kitchen with Grace.” Charming tells her.

Emma nods and looks at Jefferson, narrowing her eyes at him before going to the kitchen.

“Why’s dad talking to Jefferson?” Emma asks as she sat down at the table.

“He wants to tell him to not break my heart.” You say.

“Not to break your heart? What do you mean?” She asks.

“Papa and Y/N are boyfriend and girlfriend.” Grace tells Emma.

A shocked expression formed on Emma’s face when Grace told her that.

“You and Jefferson are dating?” Emma asks.

“Yes.” You answered.

“For how long?” She asks.

“A few weeks.” You answered.

“Maybe you can be my new mom!” Grace chimes in excitedly.

You stared at Grace in surprise when she said that.

“They would have to get married first before she can be your new mom, Grace.” Snow says.

“I know.” Grace smiles.

A few months later, Jefferson asked you to move in with him and Grace, which you happily did. Grace sees how much you and her papa love each other. It makes her happy to see her papa happy.

“Papa, when are you going to ask Y/N to marry you?” Grace asks curiously.

“Some time real soon. Why do you ask, sweetie?” Jefferson asks.

“I want her to be my new mom.” She says.

Jefferson smiles softly at his daughter.

“Are you sure that’s what you want, baby?” He asks softly.

“Yes!” She answers, nodding her head eagerly. “I love her like she’s my mom!” She says.

“I love her too.” He smiles. “I’m going to show you something, but you have to promise to not tell Y/N.” He says.

“I promise, papa!” She promises.

Jefferson took a small box out of his pocket and opened it, showing Grace the diamond ring in it.

“Is this for Y/N?” Grace whispers.

“Yes. What do you think of it?” Jefferson asks softly.

“It’s shiny and pretty. Y/N will love it.” She smiles.

“I hope she will.” He smiles.

Jefferson closed the small box and put it back in his pocket at the same time you walked in the living room.

“I was wondering where you two were.” You say as you sat down on the couch.

“Papa and I were talking about you.” Grace says.

“All good things I hope.” You say.

“All good things.” Jefferson smiles. “Grace, can you play in your room for a little bit? I have to talk to Y/N about something important.” He says.

Grace nods before carefully sliding off the couch and went to her room to play.

“I have to ask you an important question, my love.” Jefferson says softly.

You watched as Jefferson stood up and got a small box out of his pocket. He got down on one knee in front of you. You gasped softly when he opened the small box, revealing a beautiful diamond ring.

“When we met, I knew we’d be together forever. I know how true our love for each other is. I love what a great mother figure for Grace. I love you with all of my heart. Will you marry me?” He asks.

“Yes!” You answered, happy tears rolling down your cheeks.

Jefferson smiles widely and put the ring on your finger. He then kissed you passionately, gently cupping your cheeks.

“Let’s tell Grace.” Jefferson almost whispers.

You nodded and stood up. You two walked hand in hand to Grace’s bedroom to see her playing with her new stuffed bunny.

“Grace, we have amazing news.” Jefferson says.

“What is it?” Grace asks, putting her bunny down.

“Your papa and I are getting married.” You tell her, showing her your engagement ring.

Grace squeals happily and gave you two a hug.

“Does this mean I can call you mom or mama?” Grace asks curiously, looking up at you.

“Of course you can, sweetie.” You smiled. “I want you to know that I’m not replacing your real mom in any way.” You say softly.

“I know.” She almost whispers. “I love you, papa. I love you, mama.” She says, still hugging you and Jefferson.

“We love you too, sweetie.” You and Jefferson say in union softly.

Later that same day, you were laying in bed, admiring your engagement ring with a smile on your face.

“Mrs. Mad Hatter suits perfectly, don’t you think?” Jefferson says with a smile on his face.

“It’s absolutely perfect.” You almost whispered.

Jefferson got in bed next to you and kissed you sweetly.

“You’re going to be an amazing mom to Grace.” He says softly.

“I think so too.” You say.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He murmurs softly, kissing you softly.

“I love you too, my Mad Hatter.” You whispered, kissing him back.

🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩

-Bucky’s Doll

[jackiespurnell]

locked inside your heart shaped box - part two (no crash au jackie taylor x natalie scatorccio)

part one

summary: jackie's the hot, popular homecoming queen that everybody adores. she's destined to be the perfect housewife, but all her plans change a bit when tough burnout natalie scatorccio moves to wiskayok. cue the drama, the romance, and the sudden realization that maybe jackie isn't as straight as she thought...

tw: mentions of slut shaming, brief stereotyping, mentions of sex

────୨ৎ────────

okay, look. if jackie had known that the girl she was assigned to show around her school was going to be the same girl who ended up taking her coffee order and therefore caused her to have a somewhat nervous breakdown because jackie has no sense of self when things aren’t going according to plan, she probably would have made a better effort to not have said nervous breakdown. (the again, if she had known in advance that this going to be a concern, she could have adjusted her plan to fit this in it. it’s not her fault she can’t tell the future or whatever).

she’s not exactly sure if natalie recognized her, but she smiled slightly, and the grunge girl exterior didn’t exactly scream ‘oh, let me pretend to be polite and friendly so i don’t cause problems’, so jackie figured natalie didn’t have too low of an opinion of her.

now, jackie knows she wasn’t outright rude or mean or anything. in fact, she knows that her attitude was probably above average customer behavior (approximately 74% percent of food service workers in new jersey have reported emotional abuse or harassment from consumers in the past year) but still, jackie held the highest standards for herself. she had to always be friendly and kind, and awkwardly nodding and staring wasn’t really the most friendly or kind thing to do.

but how could she not nod and stare? it was a suburban town in new fucking jersey in 1996, for crying out loud. sure, there’s a fair share of emo kids and whatever, but they’re usually just burnouts and smokers. not that she knew for sure natalie wasn’t a burnout who smoked - jackie was taught from a young age that stereotyping is bad (although jackie knows damn well that her parents wouldn’t appreciate jackie even talking to natalie, but of course, they would be too polite to say anything) - but she knew what kind of group nat was fit in it from the get to. yet, there was something different about natalie.

she could tell straight away that natalie wasn’t like them. cause kids like them would have made some dumb comment at jackie’s awkwardness. kids like them wouldn't be working at a coffee shop of all places. kids like them wouldn’t be standing in front of jackie, politely waiting for her to give them a tour of their new school, smiling at her.

“hi.” jackie perks up, hoping she could just slip back into her nice girl persona quick enough that natalie wouldn’t notice. “you ready?” she asks the blonde, to which she just receives a little nod. “yeah.”

jackie spends the next hour or so showing natalie around. she shows her the science lab where she accidentally fried her hair in tenth grade, the math class where she cried over an 89 on a test (she had all As that year, okay, she was really devastated), the gymnasium where she got named homecoming queen. 

she tries to ignore the growing pit in her stomach when realizes that she’s missing out on the few first classes of her senior year. she knows it’s probably not a big deal, they’re most likely not even learning anything the first day, and even if they were, at least jackie gets to skip class. but still. she can’t help but feel like she’s missing out. that something important is going to happen while she’s over here showing around the new kid. and natalie’s being so nice. and she’s funny and cool.

jackie doesn’t like that. (or rather, jackie doesn’t like how much she likes it.)

“and here’s our sports field.” jackie says, leading natalie outside to the grassy area outside of their school. “it’s used for all the sports games and practices. including what is objectively the best sport ever invented in the history of invented sports - soccer.”

“there are non invented sports?” natalie teases, to which jackie nods jokingly. “oh, absolutely. some of them just spawned out of nowhere. those are typically the shitty ones. like golf. like, who even likes golf?” 

“and what if i said i did, hmm?” natalie fake gasps, putting her hand to her heart as if offended. which she obviously wasn’t, if not noticeable by the way she’s stifling a laugh, then by the natalie does not like the type of person who would play golf. “then i’d say you’re opinion is terrible and you are wrong.” jackie ignores the weird feeling in her chest when she hears natalie laugh for real this time.

“i actually do play soccer though.” natalie said. “or at least at my old school i did.”

“maybe you should consider tryouts.” jackie says, and she isn’t sure why exactly she says it, she hasn’t even really figured out her opinion on natalie, so why the hell would she want to bring this girl into the one place where she knows she could be herself? it didn’t make any sense. but then natalie says “maybe i will” and jackie suddenly feels even worse.

“i’m actually the team captain this year.” jackie says, which basically means yes, you’re chill and you’re cool and you’re hot but that doesn’t mean you’re all that except for the fact that you actually are all that and it makes me feel weird so this is me trying to one up you. “so, i’m already in, but i’ll be helping out with tryouts.”

“captain, huh? you’re not gonna purposely screw me over at tryouts, are you?” nat says casually, playing into the easy banter.

and jackie knows that natalie is joking. and jackie also knows that if she it didn’t go against all the rules she set for herself, she absolutely would screw natalie over. she knows she’s a better person than most, and that’s not her being cocky, it’s just true. she knows she’s nice. it’s all she’s ever tried to be. and so far, she’s been doing pretty good. she’s a nice person, and nice people don’t exclude people they just met from their school’s soccer team just because they happen to be a tad bit cooler than you. it’s like, the number one rule of niceness or something.

“maybe i will, maybe i won’t.” jackie quips back, and she can’t help but crack a smile.

“why did you transfer here anyways? a small, dull town in jersey? there’s literally nothing.” jackie says, and if she was even a tinier bit better at navigating social cues, she’d be able to tell how natalie tenses at the question (but, unfortunately for both parties, she isn’t).

“um i moved.” natalie says. “it’s for my father’s, uh, job.” she says, avoiding eye contact. jackie just nods, humming slightly to herself. “where did you move from?” jackie says, walking ahead of natalie, picking at her nails. she’s always been told she has a tendency of walking fast, always constantly ahead of shauna or her parents or whoever it is she’s hanging out with.

“the city.” natalie says. “about an hour from here.”

“damn. well, then this is for sure a downgrade.” jackie teases. “but it’s not all bad. i mean, i’ve been here my whole life. it’s chill. if you like the suburban life, that is.” she quickly adds.

“and do you enjoy the suburban life?” natalie questions, and now it’s jackie’s turn to freeze up because how the hell do you answer a question that you’ve spent your whole life thinking about but have never actually been asked except now you are being asked and you really don’t know what to say except just stand there and then the bell rings and thank god for the fucking bell.

“oh, well, we should probably head back.” jackie says before natalie has to chance to interrupt. “hope you enjoyed your personalized tour from yours truly.” she smirks, trying to bring the humor back into the situation.” and she knows that natalie knows she’s uncomfortable, but she also knows that natalie isn’t going to bring it up, so she laughs at jackie’s joke instead. and if getting embarrassed sucked, jackie decided getting pitied sucked even worse. 

by the time lunch rolls around, word of the new girl has spread. while jackie has heard a few of the guys calling her hot - which jackie does not like - the main things she’s hearing are ‘burnout’ and ‘druggie.’ which, jackie, also doesn’t like.

“so,” shauna says. “you friends with the new girl or something?” she asks jackie. the two girls were currently at the school cafeteria, hanging with a few of their friends. shauna was currently scribbling whatever the fuck it is she scribbles in her diary (“it’s a journal jackie” “same difference”), and jackie was picking at her food, slightly zoned out until the other girl snapped her out of her trance. “uh, no.” jackie says. “i was just assigned to show her around. she’s chill but i wouldn’t really say we’re friends.”

and ironically, despite that being true given the fact that are not friends, it still feels like the wrong thing to say. any answer feels like the wrong thing to say.

shauna raises her eyebrows. “you know, that might break the record for the shortest sentence you’ve ever said.” jackie just laughs unironically, like the type of laugh you make when someone says something too offensive to be considered funny but not offensive enough to make a scene about it. “yeah, sorry, i’m just tired.” jackie offered, to which shauna just lets out a little hum as to say ‘okay.’

jackie keeps picking at her food, her leg shaking underneath the table. it was one of her nervous habits she picked up as a kid, something she always did whenever something or someone felt off. and shauna definitely felt off right now.

jackie purses her lips together. “hey, um, shauna, can i talk you about something?” she asks. shauna barely looks up from her journal, and when she finally does, it’s too late cause jackie feels an arm wrap around her side and a low, male voice saying “hey babe” right in her direction.

jeff and his friends typically hung around jackie and shauna, and even though jackie knew her best friend wasn’t too fond of the ‘fuck ass bro dues’ (shauna’s words, not jackie’s), she tolerated them. they weren’t all that bad, jackie had told her.

jeff sadecki was the quarterback of the football team. if this was a high school movie, he’d be the popular boy that all of the girls wanted. the love interest who swoops in at the end of the day to save the protagonist. and while this most definitely isn’t a movie - if it was, jackie wouldn’t be taking a calculus test next period - jackie likes to think of jeff as her movie love interest. the edward to her vivian, the josh to her cher, the harry to her sally. he was, like, basically perfect. well, besides the fact that she had to fake an orgasm because she didn’t want to be late for school and he was taking too long. but that’s beside the point.

besides, it wasn’t even like they were doing the real thing. he was just fingering her, it wasn’t like his dick was up her vagina or anything (even thinking about those two words in the same sentence makes jackie feel weird). maybe he’s just bad with his fingers. maybe that’s normal. jackie wouldn’t know, because it’s not like she’s ever done anything with anyone else. she’s waiting. her and jeff both are. which is what makes it so special, cause yeah, maybe he’s shit at pleasuring her, but she’d probably be just as shit, because they both have no experience. but they’ll learn. together. jackie thinks it’s romantic, the whole being-each-other’s-first thing. shauna doesn’t really get it, but how could she? she’s never fallen in love before. and that’s totally what she had with jeff. love.

(okay, so technically, one could say jackie did not in fact, love jeff, given that just this morning he told her he loved her and she, well, didn’t exactly say it back. but in her defense, she was just scared, okay? of course she loves him. that doesn’t mean anything….right?)

sometimes, love is hard. and messy. and complicated. and other times, love is a boy who smells more like a sweaty dog than an actual civilized human being kissing you in the middle of the school cafeteria right after taking a bite of meat loaf. and it was a big bite.

“hey, shauna.” jeff nods towards the brunette, who just awkwardly nods back. 

“okay, so” jackie said, looking between everyone at the table. “you guys all set to come to my party tonight?” the boys all nodded simultaneously, because who doesn’t want to get drunk at a rich girl’s house on a school night? a couple of them making jokes about all the girls they wanted to get with. one of their girls flipped off a couple of the guys, and everyone burst into laughter.

“what? you didn’t tell me you were having a party?” shauna cocks her head to the side, and jackie is positive in that moment that shauna must be having some form of memory loss because of course she would have told shauna. duh.

“um, yes i did? yesterday. when we were on the phone. when i called you.” jackie says, as if it’s obvious.

“jackie you didn’t call me yesterday.” shauna says, and jackie ignores how the rest of the group quiets.

“okay, well, then it was the day before. i don’t know, shipman. but i told you. i always tell you.” shauna hesitates, but then nods, and jackie lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “yeah, i probably just forgot.” shauna says, and jackie thinks to herself how she’s never been more grateful that shauna lets things go easily.

“come over to mine after school to get ready? please?” and jackie thinks that shauna’s probably going to say something stupid about how her parents wouldn’t let her or that she has to study even though she’s like, the smartest fucking person in the entire state of new jersey, but shauna just nods and smiles and jackie leans over the table to give her a hug because her and shauna rarely hug anymore and shauna rarely smiles at her anymore but here she is doing both of those things and that makes jackie smile too.

and in that moment, jackie decides that everything’s going to be okay.  she’ll tell jeff she loves him. she’ll figure things out with shauna. 

and as another kid yells ‘slut’ across the cafeteria in natalie’s direction, jackie decided that she’s going to figure things out with her, too.

“natalie!” jackie yells at the room, to which the blonde turns around from her table. she’s sitting with a few of the other burnt-out, drug-addicted kids, and her makeup is a little smudged which honestly adds to the whole grunge effect. jackie wonders if she did that on purpose. she motions for natalie to come over, which she does, that same smirk from before still plastered on her face - which, jackie’s gotta say, is really impressive cause if some guy publicly degraded her across the room like that she would not be smiling.

“come to my party tonight. my house.” she scribbles her address onto a posted note and hands it to natalie. “everyone’s going to be there.” 

“is there going to be booze?” natalie asks, with a subtle teasing tone, and jackie can’t tell if she’s alluding to the rather obvious fact she’s probably involved in alcohol or whatever, or because jackie looks too perfect and innocent to have ever touched a bottle of liquor.

“guess you’ll have to come and find out.” jackie smiles playfully, and if jeff and shauna and all of her friends are looking at her funny, because why the hell did jackie taylor of all people just publicly invite the new kid to her party, jackie wouldn’t have even noticed. she was too focused on the way natalie smiles at her right back.

────୨ৎ────────

[ray935sworld]

i physically NEED to know your opinions on a/b/o pedronzo

pls i need it like there is no tomorrow

-mango anon 🥭

Oh 🥭, my dear you are sending me down a spiral with this one. Funny enough I was actually thinking about a marcmarc ABO AU today 😂

Alright, first off, talking about designation. Right out of my guts, I'd say Omega Dani and Alpha Jorge. (Partially cause that's how the smut ABO scene sitting in my draft is written, ups). Just from their whole dynamic, it'd make sense to me. Dani being more calm and level headed while Jorge can be totally unhinged and easy goes over the top. Especially when it comes to Dani.

And I totally see Jorge trying to "court" Dani with his weird behavior. Cause that boy has no idea how to court an omega properly. Especially one that's older than him. So I'm putting his whole asshole behavior when they were teens as him trying to prove to an older omega that despite his age he is tough and can defend Dani. But that idiot kinda went over the top and made it look like he was fighting Dani himself rather than defending him, ups. Idiot Jorge.

And then he tried to prove himself to Dani on track. Like in his mind the omega only choses the best one so he is desprete to be the best even if it ends up with him fighting on track against Dani. And when he stepped up before him, oh Jorge was heartbroken. Definitely saw it as a set back and that he wasn't good enough yet.

Meanwhile Dani is kinda interested in Jorge but he is so not into that macho asshole imagine Jorge is pulling up.

Soooo maybe, let's say... A little break down from Jorge? Like he is trying SO HARD to get Dani to notice an like him but the more he tries the more Dani ends up hating him. So one day he is fed up. He is tired but he can't stop trying. Like he's alone and he's ready to throw away all attempts and never think of Dani again. Then he steps in the paddock and between all those 10000s of smells he immediately clocks Dani's and he's like. "Nevermind. I want that" and he's gone.

And it hunts him SO MUCH that when Dani once again ignores his attempts and wants to leave Jorge is like "No. Just fucking tell me what I have to do! I've been trying for years now. Please. Please, whatever it is, I promise I will be what you need. I'll be a good alpha. I'll be the perfect alpha for you. Just - Just let me try. I can protect you. I can defend you. I can - Please!" something like this. I imagine him angry in love if that makes sense. Like he is in love, he is soft and all, but he still has so much anger in his chest that it has covered his love up too much.

And Dani just stands there, staring at him. He stares at Jorge, not understand what is going on and then maybe he realizes that Jorge is not just the angry macho kid he thought he was. "Jorge [first time he called him by his first name if you care]... An omega doesn't need an alphas protection. We don't live in 1920s. An omega needs an alphas love"

And THAT RIGHT THERE is where Jorge understands he fucked up. So he either ends up googling or asking someone he trust. Probably an omega though. And he then starts trying to use the textbook courting way. He is polite, even though he feels really awkward. He uses all the knowledge he gathered about Dani in the years (do I think he has a small diary with all the things Dani mentioned to him/ in an interview that he likes? Yes. Yes I do.) to kinds wooh him. He buys him his favorite chocolate, flowers, a blanket, stuff like that. And then the first hoodie exchange (both had already stolen shirts from the other for the smell)

Okay now this is all still very very soft cause I think that's what's needed at first. Soooo let's spicy it up a little, shall we?

Heat or rut? So either unexpected rut with Jorge returning to his asshole tendencies and Dani being fed up and distance cause he doesn't know about the rut yet only to be found by a very desprete and begging Jorge (Dani is getting fucked into the next week after that) or unexpected heat?

Both are great BUT I think I'll go with the unexpected heat. Now what if Dani is being clingy with someone else? Maybe his teammate? Nicky Hayden? For the record this would be in a way that Dani feels sick and weak and very out of his own skin and Nicky had massive dad vibes. So nothing actually sexual. Maybe Dani is even a little bit scared cause he knows now that he and Jorge are dating, the heat will be even worst than the ones he spent alone. So either torture when he's alone or him in heat with Jorge when they hadn't really talked about the whole rut/heat thing (or for the drama, it's early in the relationship and they didn't had sex yet).

And when Jorge notices that Dani is hanging to Nicky he is kinda sad/ jealous even though he knows Nicky isn't after Dani. But still, that is his omega. He definitely hates that the Americans smell is on HIS Dani.

So once Jorge and Dani meet, it's even worst. Dani definitely can't think straight atp anymore and just straight up hangs on Jorge. Like full on, hugging his arm, forehead against his shoulder, begging him to go anywhere where they are alone. Jorge is fully concerns cause he has never seen Dani, strong, confident, cold like this. And once he understand what's going on ("Jorge... Please... Please, alpha... Said... You said you'd protect me. Please, save me. It's so hot.") OH THAT BOY IS STRESSED!

He is so scared to somehow fuck up, it's almost scary. He is taking Dani to his hotel room. (Dani by then is wearing the hoodie Jorge wore a minute ago. He was sitting on Jorge's lap during the taxi ride and Jorge was really thankful for the dark window to the driver. Heavy make out session with Dani's hand dangerous close to Jorge's pants.)

And as soon as the door is closed, the action begins. Im not gonna go into to many details cause I'm not that confident in my NSFW writing but Dani wants to ride Jorge just as hard as he rides his bike. He is screaming and wants more and more and comes more time than Jorge knew a human body was capable of. He is getting knotted and continues. (Sorry) Jorge is so in love and crazy he definitely bits Dani's shoulder. Maybe even the mating mark.

And then once the heat goes down, Jorge is slightly panicked cause he's unsure if Dani was even clear enough to actually give his concent to the whole thing. Meanwhile Dani is laying next to Jorge, really happy, still drunk on all the sex and more than happy to still have a reminder of that.

Okay now this kind of escalated. For the record I did NOT think about Pedrenzo in an ABO verse yet so if there are some things that don't add up/ make sense/ not properly thought through it's cause I made this whole thing up while writing in like 30mins.

Anyway, the other alternative would be Alpha Dani and Omega Jorge. Intresting as well. This would include a very in denial/ lying Jorge, that's trying to hide his designation from the world. So he's overly agressive in his teens to make people think he's an alpha and to keep them away from him so they don't find out the truth. His father definitely has something to do with that. And then there's alpha Dani, calm and trying not to draw to much attention on himself outside of the track. And they always seems to collide.

I'm thinking since Dani would not fit the typical alpha behavior, Jorge would call him out in one of his rages when Dani was trying to talk to him about his unsafe riding "I am NOT taking criticism from some small, weak freak. I don't care what a fake alpha like you think of me. You can't even fight properly" Now something about this hist Dani really hard cause while they subconsciously are connected and competable, both don't know yet. So hearing *his* omega call him fake, weak and especially small (biggest insecurity and so far Jorge was the only one not to throw this at him) this would definitely bring a scar he can't explain himself.

So what if Dani starts keeping his distance from Jorge and since Jorge is an omega this would cause him loss of anxiety and frustration cause he knows he shouldn't act the way he did towards *his* alpha.

Next point would be, idk how but somehow Dani ends up being stressed and sad and panicked. (Maybe a crash?) and he hides in a dark corner having a panic attack and Jorge ends up looking for him. Like he is already distressed and suddenly he smeels Dani having a panic attack and all the fights are forgotten. He is going to comfort Dani. Especially after what he said. So he does exactly does.

Jorge sits down next to him. "What do you want? Do you want to yell at me again and call me fake? Weak? Small? The useless pedrosa, can't even be a real alpha and-" And Jorge just hugs him. Dani accepts and Jorge leans against him, head against his chest and he apologizes and tells him the truth.

And after that Dani is slowly starting to court him. He shows Jorge love and they are happy. *possible unexpected rut/heat - but in this case actually preferably Dani being in rut to make Jorge fully understand how crazy Dani is about Dani*

Thoughts? Did you like it?

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 37

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 1000

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Fifteen days later, Jules had joined me for two days, both at the firm and on a construction site. I showed him all aspects of the profession and gave him tasks to complete. He was completely engaged and thrilled by the experience. I adored this kid—cultured, open-minded, and with a great sense of humor.  

While we were having lunch together, I asked him what it was like to be the son of a mayor and a political figure, and whether it ever felt burdensome.  

"You know, even though she works a lot, she's always been there for us. But one thing's for sure—she's completely devoted to politics! It’s her drug!" he added, laughing. "And in the end, it has its perks for us—free tickets here, stadium passes there!"  

He warmly thanked me for those two days by gifting me a box of chocolates before heading home that evening.  

"Nice kid!" Alexia said, stealing one of the chocolates from my desk. "You and Lucy Bronze are getting pretty tight, huh?"  

I looked up from my files.  

"She asked for a favor, and I helped her out!"  

Switching the topic, I asked, "By the way, Alexia, are we still good for the month and a half of vacation? I’m planning to take it in five months, in April!"  

She raised her arms dramatically.  

"Hallelujah, finally! It’s been almost two years since you’ve had a vacation! Take two months even. We’ll scale back on projects for that period, and with Raph joining, no problem!"  

I smiled, grateful.  

"Perfect, because I want to go far!"  

"Oh yeah? Where to? With who?"  

I bit my lower lip, cornered.  

"Argentina!"  

Lucy and I had already discussed the destination—she’d been dreaming of going there for ages. I was drawn to it too, having already visited Peru, and the choice had been an easy one.  

"Awesome! With who?"  

Of course, I wasn’t going to get off that easily.  

"Uh... with Marie!"  

Alexia raised an eyebrow.  

"Oh yeah? So it’s serious, huh? When am I going to meet this girl? At least show me a picture!"  

"Alexia, I’m not in high school anymore; I don’t carry pictures of my girlfriend in my wallet!"  

"Sure, sure... You’re awfully secretive about her!"  

I felt guilty for not sharing this part of my life, which was growing more significant by the day. I wanted to talk to her about it soon—I was just waiting for the right moment.  

It was tough living in secrecy like this. I wasn’t used to it, having been open about my sexuality for so long. I wanted to introduce Lucy to my family and friends, put my arm around her in public, hold her hand at a restaurant...  

But that wasn’t possible for now.  

Sometimes, I slipped up. I forgot the unspoken rules, like when we were in the city instead of out of town where we could act more freely—though still discreetly. I’d once taken her hand in a downtown café, and she’d immediately tensed up, pulling it away.  

I couldn’t wait for this election to be over so we could finally move forward. I wanted to love her freely.  

That evening, I met Lucy at a restaurant. I quickly noticed that she seemed preoccupied.  

"Everything okay, Lucy?"  

"Yeah, sorry, Ona. Just some issues at City Hall with this whole Luc situation."  

Luc Dupuy, her deputy, was supposed to succeed her. He’d suffered a heart attack the week before. Though he had survived without any lasting damage, he needed rest and to avoid stress—essentially the opposite of a municipal campaign. Lucy and her team had to find a replacement quickly.  

"Have you decided on someone?"  

"We’re choosing between two people, both of my council members. But they’re not very well-known..."  

"They’ll build their reputation during the election. You were only 32 when you were first elected!"  

She sighed.  

"Yes, but we’ve done polling. I got the results tonight, and neither of them is certain to win against the  Mojito King ! It’s much closer than it was with Luc."  

She was referring to Philippe, a friend who led the opposition. She loathed him, and the feeling was mutual. I’d campaigned against him in the last election to support her.  

"You know, I think he’d make a great mayor!" I teased.  

Her expression darkened; clearly, she didn’t find the joke amusing.  

I decided to change the subject, bringing up our upcoming vacation to lighten the mood.  

"I’ve locked in my two months, so we’re free to book tickets anytime now. As early as we’d like!"  

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Let’s sort it out next week, okay? Sorry, this week has been horrible! I can’t even go to the theater with you on Thursday!"  

I pouted playfully before smiling at her.  

"Meeting with my party members to make a decision and settle on a candidate. It’s late in the afternoon, but it’s going to drag on. And then I’ll have to manage the media fallout! It’s going to be intense!"  

I discreetly placed my hand on her knee under the table.  

"You’ve got this—you’ll handle it brilliantly!"  

She smiled back at me.  

"I hope so, Ona..."  

That Friday morning, I arrived at the firm feeling a little tired. I’d ended up taking a friend to the theater, and we’d stayed out at a bar until after 1 a.m.  

Lucy hadn’t been in touch all evening. We usually called or texted each other every night when we weren’t together. She must have gone to bed late, caught up in the aftermath of that important meeting.  

Alexia burst into the office, holding coffees and a newspaper under her arm.  

"Coffee for everyone!"  

Her morning cheer was infectious. I took a coffee and was about to sit back down when she said,  

"Look who’s on the front page of the regional paper—Madame Bronze!"  

I grabbed the newspaper. I wasn’t surprised; she was often featured in it. There she was, smiling in the photo, surrounded by other officials, looking stunning as always.  

Then my eyes caught the headline, and my blood ran cold.  

  Lucy Bronze: Ready for Another Round!    

And in the subhead:  

 Running for a Third Term.   

The newspaper slipped from my hands and fell to the floor. 

[qqueenofhades]

Is it foolish of me to sympathize with how marginalized people on the far-left are incredibly frustrated that the Democratic establishment isn't as scared of/desperate to please them as the Republican establishment are toward the MAGA fringe? I guess from their perspective, voting feels like begging - most of the people who hear you won't even glance at you, let alone drop you a coin. But you still have to do it, or else you (or worse, your family) are *guaranteed* to starve.

Okay, a few thoughts here. Note: for you and the other people who have recently sent politics asks, I have been very deliberately NOT talking about it for the last few months. I had to break it yesterday because of the Orange Menace finally getting fucking convicted, but I do want to go back to not doing that (at least for the next few weeks/months/until whatever else stupid happens). So while I will answer this, I am generally not going to answer others and my apologies for that, but yeah. It's just so much and I have GOT to keep myself sane until November somehow. (Or God forbid, afterward, but you know.)

First off, most members of the American far left aren't actually marginalized people, or at least not marginalized enough that their personal well-being seems in any way likely to be affected by their loud and ceaseless campaign to tell other people not to vote. Actual marginalized people who have lived in America for any length of time are *well* aware of how the government and the state can be weaponized against them; witness how black community organizers will voice well-deserved criticisms of the Democratic establishment or other aspects of American party politics that are frustrating for everyone, but they will still always tell people to vote. Black people are also extremely aware that earning the right to vote was an incredibly long, difficult, and bloody battle that they were never given it for free, and the white power establishment fought them having it at every turn. They are thus far more aware than your average white online leftist that voting matters, because they had to work so hard to get it (and still to defend it as various red states launch openly racist assaults on voting rights, especially aimed at disenfranchising people of color). Witness how Bernie also got literally zero traction with African American voters, despite being the darling of the (white) online left.

Hispanic people are also (rightfully) frustrated at how both American parties can use Latino immigrants as a political football, but they're still backing Biden by 30-point margins. We hear a lot of chatter about Trump supposedly gaining ground with voters of color -- maybe he has, though I doubt it, but that's still incremental gains from the massive holes he was in before, and where he generally remains. Arab Americans are (rightfully) angry with Biden over Gaza, but even in the much-hyped Michigan primary, he got roughly the same amount of "uncommitted" voters as Obama did as an uncontested incumbent in 2012, and most of them have said they'll grit their teeth and vote for him in the general election anyway. Yes, a few of them have decided not to, but they are not the size of the Black and Latino populations in America insofar as electoral power, and many of them have grudgingly decided that as bad as Biden might be on this particular issue (though far less so than the social media groupthink would paint him) the alternative (i.e. Trump openly promising to deport everybody who's not white and crack down on pro-Palestinian protests and anything else) is much, much worse.

And yet, white leftists seem utterly incapable of making these same calculations. Frankly, I'm not sure they actually care about Gaza, let alone anything else they say, because if so, they wouldn't be slavering at the mouth to let Trump back in there to "teach a lesson" to Biden, Democrats, and everyone else who was not Smart And Clever Enough to sanctimoniously sit on their hands and let the fascists take over. I know this because they spent all their time lying about Biden and distorting his record and insisting people not vote even before October of last year, and then it only got ten thousand times worse. I'm not saying that all leftist or leftist-identified people are white, but they are disproportionately predominant in leftist spaces and in pushing the idea that there's "no difference" between the parties and somehow Trump and Biden are morally equivalent or will have the same amount of impact on what will happen after one of them is elected. That is, yes, because they are white and they have the privilege of assuming that a weaponized fascist government will not go after them for that reason (even though Trump and his surrogates are now claiming that "everyone" who opposes Trump has to be "dealt with.") As such, when you say that marginalized far-left people are frustrated with the Democrats, I'm... not entirely sure that's true. Marginalized people AND the far left are both frustrated with the Democrats, but one of those groups has generally still decided not to voluntarily disenfranchise themselves, and the other is pumping out Vladimir Putin-wet-dream anti-voting propaganda at every chance they get.

There is also the fact that America is not a left-wing country in any sense of the word, and that while it's easy for the MAGA Republicans to go ever further far-right and promise to be even more outrageously cruel and stupid and fascist than ever before, but that's not an actual policy or a plan. It is also a strategy of diminishing returns; witness the fact that for all the cruelty and stupidity Republicans have pumped into the public arena since 2016, they haven't actually been that good at winning elections, and most of their major successes have come from Trump winning in 2016 and thus being able to stack SCOTUS and the district and circuit courts with hand-picked right-wing nut jobs, who are functioning exactly as they were designed to do. (Which Hillary Clinton warned about, along with everyone else, and yet she was taken out by the exact same dirtbag leftist disinformation moral purity machine that is working overtime to handicap Biden for the exact same reasons.) Mainstream Democrats warned about this before the 2016 election and were scorned and laughed off. Indeed, the entire Online Left continues to resolutely deny that the extremist SCOTUS is responsible for anything (It's Biden's Fault) and thus are likewise identical to Trumpies. And since they also want Trump to get back in there and teach a lesson to the Democrats, they're just as anti-democratic, dangerous, stupid, and deliberately short-sighted as actual MAGATs, and can by no means be considered allies to the singular movement of keeping fascists out of power. That is our only present goal.

If Democrats bent over to everything the far left asks for (which is often a combination of tankie gobbledygook, various vague ideas about Communism utopia where capitalism magically vanishes with no consequences, half-baked revolution cosplays, and other stuff that is functionally equivalent to the wildest lunacies of MAGA) they would never win an election again, and that would be exactly what the fascists want. Witness how they struggled when they were branded "defunders of the police" and "socialists" and other effective responses to the mildest milquetoast efforts for reform or accountability. And the political climate right now is just far too dangerous to throw everything to the wind and prance out some pipe-dream perfect-utopia plan. I'm sure you've heard about Project 2025 and how the far-right Heritage Foundation is planning to systematically implement fascism at all levels of the country, the instant they have a compliant Republican president and congress. I would take all these people crying about Biden even a fraction more seriously if they weren't openly jonesing for something that is so unbelievably, incredibly worse.

For example: I currently have major beefs with literally the entire foreign policy of the Biden administration right now. I think they're being too hard on Ukraine (forbidding them to strike targets on Russian soil with American weapons, which would end the war faster) and, despite some promising signs and open displeasure, still far too easy on Israel. They looked foolish after insisting that Rafah was a red line and then essentially making up an excuse that what's going on now is not a "major operation." Secretary of State Blinken floating the idea of helping Congress censure or neuter the International Criminal Court arrest warrants issued for Netanyahu and co. was also one of the fucking stupidest things I've heard from a serious (i.e. non-Trumpist) American diplomat in a long time. So we respect the ICC when it issues warrants for tyrants we don't like (Putin), but when it issues one for tyrants we still do, apparently (Netanyahu), then bingo, it's back to the bad old habit of ignoring international law like we're special and it doesn't apply to us, and allows all the other bad actors around the world to do the same by pointing at America and correctly pointing out that we ignore it when it doesn't suit our purposes. I think this is wrong and I don't agree. So? What am I going to do?

Well, you see. I'm going to vote for Biden and I am going to give him money and I am going to remind everyone I know that they have no moral option but to do the same. I do this because I am aware that despite my disagreements, Biden is acting from a cautious anti-interventionist standpoint and does not want to throw American military might around recklessly or dangerously like good ol' George Dubya or Trump or even Obama and the drones. He is listening to sober mainstream advisors who have (however incorrect and useless) ideas about "avoiding escalation" and trying to bring conflict to a managed end. He is doing this with a realistic appraisal of the power of the office of American presidency and he's not going to capriciously end democracy and become a full-blown fascist dictator on day one, as Trump has openly and repeatedly promised to do. Yes, if there was a viable option apart from Biden, maybe I would think about voting for them, but there is not, and literally everyone who does not actively vote for him is helping Trump. I do not care about any other contrived and disingenuous online squealing. I know that Biden does not want the war in Gaza to go on for no reason and for maximum carnage; Netanyahu and Trump both do. That is just to name one thing.

So: yes. I absolutely understand being frustrated with the Democrats and wishing they would push harder and etc. But I am also aware that they can be pushed, that they are the only option right now, and the people who huff and puff and whine and groan about how it's such a moral imposition to vote for them are literally doing the fascists' work for them, and that is not acceptable. If they want a better system or a better world that isn't just useless internet fantasies about magical end-of-days Raptures fixing everything, also a la the crazy fundamentalists, they will have to get off their ass, do the work, and create that change. I will be happy to vote for that candidate when or if they arrive. In the meantime, I will continue to do my damndest to ensure that we even have a chance to get there. So yeah.

[seraphic-sibyl]

I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been

[screamingcrows]

To anyone coming here from the mains discord server, hi, Dottore would be proud of your curiosity for coming here ヽ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノ nice to meet you!