#the little ballet foot just before he completely falls off the top—

[oh-great-authoress]

The pole Max knocked over on track at Miami ‘24:

I love this kind of content 😂

Max and Victoria on her instagram.

[death-fears-by-deaf-ears]

swan lake || t.h.

pairing: tom holland x reader

summary: you can't stand tom holland, the guy in your ballet ensemble. But when you two get the roles of Odette and the prince, you two will have to put your differences aside and learn to work with each other.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: language

chapter one

Not again.

This was starting to become a recurring theme - it was Monday and your bus had just left without you. You mumbled profanities under your breath, your duffle bag slung across your shoulder. Frustrated you slumped against a street lantern, when you felt the first drops of rain on your skin. You let out a groan of anger and pulled your hood up over your head, cursing yourself for staying up too late last night. But because you anticipated this, you had already put on your leotard and tights on at home, so when you got to class you’d only have to strip your clothes and start your warm up.

Last week you had gotten whacked on the head with a newspaper for being that late, but with a little bit of luck you wouldn’t have to endure that today.

When you arrived in the ballet studio almost an hour later you were soaked and freezing. You ran through the halls of the studio, already in the process of taking off your jacket and shirt, revealing your dancing clothes underneath. Three minutes left to go.

Your usual locker was already occupied, making you rush to the next best one, ripping the door open, throwing all your clothes in there and only taking your training ballerinas out and slamming the door shut. You had done your hair in the bus already, so it was in a low tight knot. You put your shoes on, running toward the door. One minute left.

“How kind of you to join us today on time,” Sophie, your dance teacher said, following you with her eyes as you took your position. Everyone in the room was staring at you and you could feel their looks drilling in your back. Tom next to you was bowing his head down, obviously trying to hide his laughter. You shot him a poisonous look, rage as well as embarrassment burned inside you. Tom had a special power of making your anger levels go from 0 to 100.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” you said, your face running hot.

“Let’s start with the warm up, shall we?”

“Why is everyone whispering and staring at me,” you whispered through gritted teeth to your friend Hannah, who was helping you stretch. “Ouch!”

“Loosen up,” Hannah whispered, pulling you even closer to her. You were sitting in front of each other on the floor, pushing the others’ legs out. “Haven’t you seen the role sheet today?”

“Fuck,” you whispered, partially because of the stretch, but also because you had forgotten that today the roles for the upcoming show were published. You must’ve not seen the sheet in the locker rooms. “What role did I get?”

Hannah shook her head as you pulled her towards you, adjusting her pose. “You got the role of Odette.”

You immediately let go of Hannah, slapping your hand on your mouth, making her fall forward. You grabbed her shoulders. “I got the main role?” You whisper-screamed, trying your hardest not to get caught by Sophie. “Well, who is playing the prince?”

Hannah cringed and turned her gaze to the side, where a few of your colleagues were standing. Instead of stretching they were very obviously flirting with… Tom. He must’ve noticed you staring at him, as he turned his head and met your gaze. Both of you rolled your eyes as you turned away from each other. “You can’t be serious,” you said.

“I’m sorry,” Hannah huffed, sweat pearling on her dark forehead. “But hey, congrats on the role?”

You finished stretching and continued with your training, going through forms and positions, polishing your moves and getting scolded for flailing your arms too much. As you were approaching your first break, Sophie stepped towards you.

“We will begin with your training for Swan Lake today at 3, make sure to bring your pointe shoes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you said, your heart fluttering at the idea of dancing to your favourite show. The fluttering quickly vanished when you noticed Sophie walking up towards Tom, telling him the same. So you’d already dance with him today.

You tried to shake the bad feeling and it mostly worked, since focusing on your dream always made things easier. Dancing and performing was a way for you to let go, to get completely lost in the story and think about nothing else. There wasn’t much in the world that could ruin that for you.

Oh how wrong you had been.

“I have never seen people with less chemistry than you two,” Sophie sighed. You have never heard her be this exasperated and desperate. “Do you two even dance? Are you really professional dancers? Where did your grace go, where did the love for dance go! Look each other in the eyes for God’s sake!”

“It’d be easier if you didn’t squeeze the hell out of me,” you spat through gritted teeth.

“It’d be easier if you weren’t this heavy,” Tom spat back, his face falling immediately after he realized what he had said.

You jumped out of his grip, staring in disbelief. “Well-” you stammered, not knowing what to retort. “How about you get a little stronger…”

Sophie whacked him with her newspaper over the head. “That is NOT something you say to a lady!” Tiny strands of hair were escaping her neat bun, making her look even more stressed than she was. “We’re finishing this part today and then you two can go home.”

“Sorry,” Tom mumbled under his breath.

“Save it,” you said, taking your start position. Kneeling down on the floor, Odette would wait for the prince to come and lift her up to start the dance with her. In the original the two would fall in love the minute they laid eyes on each other. You tried to do the choreography justice, although your dance partner made it incredibly difficult for you.

“Smile!” Sophie shouted, making you two put on fake plastic grins.

“I’ll spit on your face on stage,” you said through your grin as Tom lifted you up, making you look down on him.

"Do that and I'll rip your lashes off," he said softly while lowering you on the ground again.

You tried to continue the choreography without any incidents but you couldn't help but feel every step, every nudge to be executed with a hint of passive aggression. Tom basically let you fall on the ground instead of putting you down, you avoided each other's eyes, grabbed too harshly, turned too sharply.

"Alright," Sophie said after about four hours of it. "I can't watch this any longer. You both know the choreography, and that's all I can teach you for now. If you don't know how to be nice to each other, don't bother coming to me for help until you do. We'll work on the solos and the other dances first, until you two calmed down. Dismissed."

You slumped down on the floor, rubbing your face. You untied your shoes and took them off, throwing them in your bag. This was going to be hard.

“So how was it?” Hannah asked while the two of you sat on the studio floor.

As an answer you slammed your pointe shoes on the ground several times, breaking them in a way that made them comfortable for your foot. “Take a wild guess.”

She raised her eyebrows as she was sewing the elastic band into her shoe. “What did Sophie say?”

“She refuses to work with us anymore until we get it together,” you grumbled. You slammed your fist on the top of your shoe, softening the box. Suddenly the door opened, making you and Hannah turn your heads.

Tom was marching in the room, directly towards you.

“What the hell,” you mumbled, putting your shoe down and looking up at him as he stopped in front of you. “Can I help you?”

“Are you free today after class?”

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him up and down and smirked. “Are you asking me out?”

Tom crossed his arms, not saying anything. His foot was tapping impatiently on the floor which was tiled with dancing tiles.

“Yeah, I am. See you then,” you said, rolling your eyes. You waved as a good bye, signalling him to leave you alone. You turned to Hannah. “He told me I was too heavy to lift.” “Excuse me?” You shrugged, taking the thread and the needle. Your friend slapped her hands on her thighs in exasperation. “What an ass.”

You finished sewing and breaking in your shoes while talking about anything other than Tom - mostly Hannah’s new date she was going to see that very day. It was nice talking about something else, preparing yourself for class. You could feel that today was going to be a slow one - you eased into your shoes, then into your stretches, and finally into your training, testing out the waters with your new footwear and getting more comfortable as the day progressed. Your mind was empty, completely free of oppressive and depressing thoughts. Your body moved in unison with the music, following the tides of the melody, back and forth seemingly weightless and freed of gravity.

Before you knew it afternoon rolled around and class finished. You packed your stuff, and settled down in the locker room to have some lunch and lie down, coming down from your training.

As always your lunch break went by way too fast. You stood up, shaking your limbs and grabbing your things to go back to the now empty studio. Tom was nowhere to be found, so you warmed quickly up on your own. Your body had cooled down a bit, and you didn’t want to pull a muscle or something, so you did a few squats, jumping jacks and push ups to get moving again. You took your position at the railing in front of the mirror, practicing positions and movements, taking your sweet time. The clock ticked in the back of the room, showing 3.16pm. Where the hell was Tom?

At that moment the door swung open.

“Took you long enough,” you said in an arabesque pose.

“Sorry,” he said, getting in and throwing his duffle bag in the corner of the room.

You put your foot down, looking at him properly. You raised your eyebrows at his childish demeanor. You were already annoyed by him. “Bad day?”

He plonked down on the floor and began to put on his shoes. “I just want this day to be over.”

“Well then cheer up, do you expect me to dance with an energy as bad as yours?”

He looked at you incredulously. “Can’t I be in a bad mood? Do I have to be all sunshine and daisies all the time?” His voice rose now, making you back away a little, but you weren’t having none of that. You had an idea.

“I just said to lose the fucking attitude,” you said, getting louder now as well.

“What if i don’t want to?! God, you’re annoying!”

You took a deep breath putting force in your voice. “Then scream it out, because I don’t want to deal with this!” His hands turned into fists, his eyes lighting up a tiny little bit at the memory your words just triggered. But he was still angry. “Fuck you!”

“No, fuck YOU!”

And without a cue you two just started wordlessly screaming in the other’s face, a prolonged and agonizing scream, throwing it all out. Dancing didn’t require vocal chords, so you had no qualms absolutely shredding yours. You didn’t know if anyone else was in the building, but you didn’t care.

As you two ran out of breath your shoulders slumped, moving heavily up and down as you gasped for air. The room was awfully quiet except for your breathing. Your bodies seemed to mirror each other, more in sync than when you tried to be. Destruction seemed to be more constructive to the relationship between you two than anything else.

You swallowed, standing up straight. “Can we start now?”

Again you were on the floor, folded over in your starting position. You had decided to train without music, so you jumped a little as Tom’s hands touched your wrists, softer than usual. He lifted you up off the floor, placing his hands on your waist. This dance wasn’t particularly difficult or demanding, but for it to work you need a prince who guides Odette just enough without gripping her too tight, and an Odette who knows how much to rely on the prince and how much on herself. There were a few hang ups here and there, but you danced through the whole routine without saying anything once, enjoying the flow of your movements. The dance was still clinical, mostly about getting the order of the moves right. It ended with Tom lifting you up, and slowly lowering you down, and bringing your faces together, hinting at a kiss between you two. You still needed to work on that part.

“So,” he said as you jumped away as the dance ended. “With music this time?”

You nodded. “Maybe don’t grip me this tight when I do the pirouettes,” you said. You took a sip of water and put the bottle away. “I can basically do them on my own, just give me a quick spin and I’ll be able to do them faster.”

“Alright,” he said, getting into position. “But try to do your moves independently from me. It’ll make them look better.”

You folded over on the floor and waited for the music to start. When it started you closed your eyes for a second anticipating the touch on your wrists. Still it sent a jolt through you. “Softer,” you said as you did your pirouette, and the grip on your waist turned to a fleeting touch every few moments, accelerating your turns.

“Lean in properly,” Tom said as you leaned in his hands to the side to lift your leg. You did as told and managed to lift your leg even higher and with less effort. He lifted you by the waist, brows furrowed the slightest in concentration, turning in a circle. Your hands rested on his shoulders, eyes trained on him. You wondered if Odette really fell in love with the prince on sight.

The routine went smoother with each time you tried it, your movements dynamic and easy like a well oiled machine.

After a while you decided to call it a day, and after you awkwardly said your goodbyes, you went home. Suddenly you didn’t know how to act around him, everything you did felt clumsy and weird. You were used to being annoyed by him and just being generally mad at him. But now that you had to cooperate and put those things aside, what was left?

a.n.: this is the first chapter of maybe two or three, lmk what you think! this is the first time i post to tungle, be kind lmfao

[ageofevermore]

Golden

summary → in which Harry doesn’t understand how he can possibly love such a small baby so painfully much. 

word count → 1.7k

note → this might require a few deep breaths because oh lord, i really laid the fluff down thick. 

add yourself to my taglist

When you and Harry had fallen pregnant it was unexpected. You had been talking about starting a family in the near future, but hadn't felt the need to fall in deep. You were aware of the problems you might face with natural conception, especially due to the stress of being employed by the entertainment industry, but just three days after your conversation, the both of you had gotten carried away in a moment of beautiful love.

You had been on birth control ever since your seventeenth birthday when your mother figured you might begin to explore your sexual desires. It was something she was quite open about, making it easier to tell her that you were seeing a green eyed wonder called, Harry.

It was just after a morning run through LA that you took a test. It was some cheap brand, an impulse buy after laying in bed worrying about your lack of protection weeks prior. You had been paranoid for days, your cycle abnormally long and lacking the usual symptoms of tension and muscle aches. Instead, you had full fledges cramps and headaches.

When the first test came back positive you almost fainted on the floor of your en-suite. Harry was just downstairs and heard the unusual commotion. You were usually light on your feet, a classically trained ballet dancer as a child. It was worrisome to find you doubled over on your hands and knees beside the tipped over nightstand. Harry had immediately rushed to your aid, collecting your frame in his hands and pressing soft kissing to your forehead until he could get your attention. Your eyes were dazed, hands balling into the fabric of his thick black jumper. You were completely beside yourself with joy.  

"What's a'matter, moppet?" He mumbled against your forehead, pulling your legs over his lap so her could bring you closer. He softly pried your hands away from his jumper, kissing your clenched knuckles fervently. "Scaring me, love. What's got you so worked up?"

The thought of the positive pregnancy test in your palm brought on a new wave of tears. The tip of your nose trembled as you broke into a wide grin, breaking down completely into Harry's chest with gleefully shocked giggled. Harry didn't waste a minute, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you closer to his chest. Your legs wrapped around him like a koala, but it only made this moment sweater for you. For now, you were the only one that knew about the growing baby making a home for itself inside of you. For years you had overlooked how special this moment would be.

"Pet." Harry cooed, bringing his fingers down your spine. The metal of his rings was cold when he lifted your shirt and tickled your back with scratches. "Gotta tell me what's got you so giddy."

Uncoordinatedly you smashed your lips against Harry's. Your teeth knocked against his harshly, but all you could manage was a smile that left his lips wet, "We're parents." Your whispered.

-

The end of your pregnancy was brutal, complete with unbearable braxton hicks and obscene swelling. You had been riddled with insomnia for weeks as well, and the throbbing in your fingers was brought on by the wedding band stuck between your knuckles that even elevation and heating pads couldn't help. Harry had done his absolute best to make you comfortable, but even his hour long foot rubs and 3am snack runs did little for you. None of that was relevant now, nor was the stitching holding your torn vagina together. Your baby, sweet Indie Anne Styles, was here. She was perfect, and she was finally before your eyes.

Her warm pink body was flush against your chest. Harry stood off to the side, tears blurring his vision as he took in the picture before him. His first true love was embracing their own little mini. He had no doubts that his little Indie was a product of the truest breed of young love. Indie, Harry wasn't so sure the big name fit her little body and button nose.

"Look at her, lovie." You sniffled, running your finger down her cheek. She had finally stopped wailing, settling into your warmth and letting herself fall asleep in your embrace. You were certain birth was tiring for babies, glad to see that your little love was resting up now and getting ready to experience the life you and Harry had shaped just for her. "She's perfect."

"Knew she would be, love." Harry came closer to the both of you, bending down to press a kiss to your sticky forehead. He loosely grabbed the newborns hand, chocking on a sob when she gripped his thumb. Her grip was tight for such a tiny human, and already Harry was sure he wouldn't be able to live every day with a heart so heavy with love.

Your husband was barely keeping himself together over your shoulder as he admired your daughter. You had gently coaxed a pacifier between her lips after watching her squirm, and the soft pink plastic only brought Harry a new wave of overwhelming love and protection. He never wanted anything to hurt his littlest love, his precious baby Indie.

"Thank you, pet." He cried into your crown, pressing gentle kissed to your hair and face at an uncomfortable angle. He didn't want to hurt you, but he needed to thank you for this moment. It was everything he had always dreamed of and so much more, "Thank you for her. Thank you."

-

It had taken Harry three weeks to call Indie her name, having a habit of referring to the newborn as 'his little angel'. You didn't mind the title, but hearing her name on the tip of his tongue made you weak. He had taken great to becoming a father, like you knew he would. You had never had any doubts about just how unconditionally Harry would love your little human. He was up with you during every feed, changing all the diapers until you were healed enough to bare standing at the change table for long stretches.

He bought only the best for his Indie too. Her nighttime routine was prepped with high end vegan moisturizers and ointments. Her diapers were made of organic, non toxic, vegan materials. He didn't care for prices, only quality. Harry was as relatively humble man. He never talked about wealth or thought it as anything valuable, but he also, despite what it seems, didn't splurge on high end products often. He had his limits and boundaries, but his money was used wisely and not thrown away on material. He refused to let Indie soak in a cheap diaper though, even when you assured him that most diapers were exceptionally made and there was no need to spend a few hundred dollars every month.

It didn't take long for Indie to form more defined features, one being her insanely bright blue eyes and thin strands of soft blonde hair. You weren't quite sure where your baby girl came from to be honest, seeing as your eyes weren't near the same shade of color as hers nor were Harry's. Her hair was ungodly as well. Almost like your favorite disney film, her locks were strikingly golden. It had only taken a month before you caught Harry above her crib, whispering a fond, "Good morning, golden girl."

Golden had been her name since that dewy spring morning. You couldn't see her as anything but, adoring the nickname Harry had brought upon the three of you. It was odd when you had family visiting and they would refer to your precious Golden as Indie.

It was just after two am when the shrill screams of your infant severed the sleep you and Harry were catching up on. His arm was thrown around your waist, and for a minute neither one of you moved. She was going through a growth spurt meaning the usually laid back baby you shared a house with was needy and desperate for her fathers attention and your satin milk. It was hard to give her what she wanted at times. You knew she was hungry, but she didn't want to leave Harry's arms.

That had happened just the other day. With the luck you were working on, you had forgotten to pack away another pre-made bottle. She was eating so frequently you hadn't had the need to pump, but that decision came back to bite you when she woke up from her nap hungry and only wanting her daddy. You both had eventually figured out a way to please her, but it had been frustrating and stressful on the three of you alike. It was safe to say you were always on top of bottles now.

When Harry finally did pull away from your warmth, he kissed your temple before feeling the room, not before you heard the last of his mutter, "I'm coming, Goldie."

You were sure your heart exploded in that moment. When you saw him again, this time with a squirmy baby impatiently suckling on the nipple of a pacifier, tears were gathering in your eyes. You smiled widely down at your little love, affectionately stroking her cheek. You settle her against your chest, wincing when she latches, but relaxing when her sucks become rhythmic and predictable.

In the darkness Harry couldn't make out your teary smile, instead just moving around the master and preparing another diaper for Goldie, having felt the wet one when he picked her up from the crib moments ago. He could hear you praising the baby for doing such a good job, promising that it was okay if she woke up every thirty minutes, but what caught him off guard was when you brushed your thumb over her cheek and whispered, "Look just as pretty as your Daddy, Goldie."

"Y'heard that, huh?" He stuttered. He knew you weren't too fond of the first few nicknames he had given Goldie, and he was almost fearful that you would reject his shortened version of Golden.

You rolled your eyes softly at his question, patting a patterned on your baby girl's diapered bottom as she nursed with sleepy eyes. "I think it's cute, fits her."

Harry smiled widely at the pair of you, the dim moonlight capturing the perfect moment in his memory. His love for you and Goldie somehow got deeper every day. He never wanted to leave this stripped down midnight moment. This perfectly golden moment.

[yeojaa]

NOT YOUR FAIRYTALE - ft. myg

What do you do when you've called your wedding off but forgot to cancel your cake tastings?  Why, you ask your brother's grouchy best friend, of course. 

pairing.  min yoongi.  sort of.

genre + rating.  fluff-adjacent.  general.

warning / tags.  mentions of infidelity, cake tasting, cake tasting isn’t a euphemism, fluff and hurt/comfort, alternate universe, alternate universe - modern setting, friendship, friendship/love, childhood friends.

reading.   n/a.  a stand-alone three part one-shot.

word count.  ~1850

chapter iii.

“I didn’t mean it, Yoongi.”

The apology is off your tongue and crashing into his ears before you have a second to consider it, pleading colouring syllables in soft shades of blue.  You hate the way he’s looking at you, like you’ve found the chink in his armour and are on the verge of exploiting it.  

“It’s fine.”  Over a decade of friendship tells you it’s decidedly not fine.  His concession comes far too quickly, meant to placate whatever guilt he’d accidentally kicked up. 

It makes you feel worse, the weight increasing tenfold when he offers you his seldom-seen smile.  Gums flash, corner of his mouth hitching over soft pink tissue.  It doesn’t quite meet his eyes though, falling just short of the endlessly dark depths of his irises. 

“Seriously.  Forget about it.”  You know he’s doing his best to force you onward but you can’t help but dig your figurative heels further into the dirt.  An immovable force.

“I’m really sorry,”  you repeat, voice thick with meaning. 

Yoongi huffs a little, seemingly frustrated.  You shrink a little further in on yourself, shoulders dropping and lips shifting in tandem.  You’re probably pouting.  You feel his stare from your periphery, feline gaze focused wholly on the way your mouth turns and turns around words you’re trying to perfect.

Silence stretches on, longer than you can stand and far more awkward than you’re used to.  You can feel it like a suffocating weight, a goose down comforter in the heat of summer - heavy and unpleasant.

“I’m sorry.”  It squeaks out in the same instant he sighs.  He sounds less irritated, though you can see the tension in his chin, how it jumps the muscle in his jaw. 

“You don’t have to keep saying it.”  

“But I don’t think you’re heartless, Yoongi.  I shouldn’t have said it.”  You say it like it’s crucial - as if you might perish if you don’t get them out.  They sweep into the spaces between you, earnest and full of fear, filling all the cracks left by your own hand.

You layer your reassurances as best you can, tongue tripping over teeth as you ramble about all the different ways you see him.  

In shades of diffused morning light, lined with silver like a physical reminder that there’s always hope.  Through the lens of childhood admiration, sprinkled with childish laughter and doe-eyed awe.  With as much unconditional love as you’ve ever been capable of, wrapped up in furtive glances and curious, miserably nonchalant texts to your brother.

It comes and comes, word vomit that won’t stop until you’re brought back by the expression on his face.  It’s tender, bemused - reminiscent of a parent of an overzealous child.  You’ve seen it a million times before, though the instances were much fewer and far between now that you were older. 

You immediately backtrack.  “I’m sorry.”  This time it’s for wasting his time, for being his best friend’s annoying little sister. 

You’re tumbling over your own two feet again.  You’ve said too much by the time he speaks at all.  

“You’re more than that.”  A statement of fact, seemingly, by how he delivers it with such ease, as if it hasn’t just set your heart off in your chest, the poor thing stuttering to life (or death).  You’re not sure.

Despite your best efforts, the singular word gives you away, coloured canary red with hope.  “What?”

If he’d heard your question at all, he says nothing, footsteps never faltering.  He’s walking ahead like he hasn’t just turned your world on its axis, throwing you completely off-balance.  He doesn’t even offer a glance back, halfway down the block by the time you come to your senses.

You jog to catch up, fingers eager to close the distance you quickly eat up.  You settle into a measured pace behind him, though your mouth moves at a mile a minute.  You can feel the maddening persistence in your bones, hear it as it carves demands into what was once comfortable silence. 

“Why did you say that?”  No response.  “Yoongi!”  He doesn’t even flinch, gaze trained ahead as if he’s never been in Apgujeong before and he’s terribly interested in everything but you. 

The distinct urge to stomp your foot fizzles through your limbs and you almost do.  You’re rooting yourself to the spot, sneaker raised comically, when he rounds on you.  Brows have disappeared into his swath of dark hair and his chin tilts just so, studying you quizzically.  It looks like he’’s having an internal debate as to whether he should rib you further.

He decides against it - returning to the conversation you’re so adamant to have.  “You know, for being a Kim, you’re not that bright.”

“Excuse me?”  Indignation bursts out your mouth.  You’re focusing too hard on the words he’s spoken than the implication behind them.  They sail over your head, lost to the pretty coral that streaks across the sky and eats up the horizon. 

To Yoongi, it’s like watching his literal heart fly out the window.  He’s a little exasperated when he speaks again.  “You’re my best friend’s little sister.  I don’t know what you expect me to say.”  

“What’re you saying?”  Because you’re really confused now.  You think Namjoon would be too. 

Are you even having the same conversation?

���Do I need to spell it out for you?”  The line of his mouth quirks, corner stretching into something that borders on a smirk.  It’s devilish - decidedly not something you’re used to - and you imagine your stomach kickflips before wrecking itself on the pavement.

Your silence seems to be answer enough.  

He heaves a sigh as if he’s been terribly inconvenienced, arms folding over his chest.  The gesture should read as don’t come near me! but you have the very distinct urge to fold yourself under his arms.  You resist it by biting down hard on your bottom lip.  

“I’ve had feelings for you since we were kids.  Specifically since you had your 10th grade ballet recital and you kept the bear I got you.”  

You remember the day like it was yesterday.  You’d been lucky enough to land the coveted spot in the winter showcase and he’d been there, shoulder to shoulder with your brother, when you’d taken your bow.  The bouquet of peonies he’d brought you - in soft shades of blush and violet, your favourite colours - had nearly engulfed your frame and you’d had trouble holding both it and the sweet brown bear that came with it.

The same bear that still sat on your bedside table, propped up beside your charging cable and yearly planner.  The one you’d cried yourself hoarse over after you thought you lost it during your freshman year of college.

“I don’t understand.”  You frown, deeply.  You can feel the little dent between your brows.  It comes out when you’re stressed or confused or, in this instance, both.  

He’s more teasing than unkind:  “Like I said - not that bright.”  

You ignore the dig.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”  

“I couldn’t do that to Joon.  I promised I wouldn’t.”

Somehow, that’s more of a revelation than Yoongi’s confession.  

“He knows?”  You can’t help the gasp that ricochets out of your mouth, belligerent and betrayed.  You’re already running through the 100 different ways you’re going to kill your brother.  Because he’d known!  While you’d pined, Namjoon had known and simply stood by.  “He knows how I feel about you and he didn't say anything?”

You know if you think about it, you can’t blame him.  You’d given him a hard time too when he and Sora seemed to get along a little too well.  Call it a sibling thing.

In the heat of the moment though, you’re livid.  So Yoongi does what he does best and redirects effortlessly.   

“—feel?”  

The prompt reassigns all focus back to him, your anger toward your brother all but forgotten.  You think you could give Pikachu a run for his money by the surprise that works itself into your expression.  Heat licks itself across your cheeks, rolling like a steam engine over the exposed skin of your neck and up past your ears.  Had it suddenly jumped 20 degrees?

“I mean felt.”

When Yoongi steps forward, you’re hyper fixated on the way his mouth bends and bows, gums and neat white enamel revealed by the motion.  You’re rooted to the spot as he’s suddenly all you can see, crown of dark hair blocking the light from behind him, narrow shoulders curling in on you.  He’s near enough you can smell his comforting, woody scent.  

You haven’t been this close in - well, ever, you think.  

Then he kisses you - a chaste thing, right on the cheek - and you forget how to breathe.

“I guess we’ll need to change that.”

SIX MONTHS LATER

“I’m honestly surprised,”  your boyfriend drawls, the picture of disinterest as he leans himself against the packed counter top, elbows propping himself up.  He’s staring out at the sea of people swarming the apartment, a comfortable group of new and old coming together to celebrate something very important.

He watches as your brother narrowly misses knocking over the beer pong table, earning a groan from the participants.  Jungkook yells something about his shot being messed up;  Jimin denies a re-throw.  There’s more incoherent shouting. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  

You’re at his back, arms twined neatly around his slender waist as you press your face into the warm expanse of his back.  The sweater he wears is overly soft from years of wear and it feels good under your reddened cheek.

You’d had a bit to drink and you were feeling exceptionally affectionate.

“You actually kept it a secret.”  Not that he hadn’t figured it out himself.  It was in your nature to throw surprise parties - you did for Namjoon and Jin and that loud best friend of yours - so he’d only figured he would get one when the time came. 

“We’re very good at keeping secrets in this family, remember?”  Your voice carries past the cotton of his clothes, filtering through laughter to kick his beating heart into overdrive.  

“Oh, how could I forget.”  He snorts quietly, turning in the same instance you unlatch yourself from him.  He has to fight the look of disappointment that threatens to pull his mouth into a pout, brow knitting in disapproval as you round on the refrigerator.

It’s only when you spin back to face him that his expression cracks and re-sets itself with glee.  Now he’s actually surprised.

Because you’ve got a cake box from the same bakeshop you’d gone cake tasting at.  He recognizes the logo on the front and the pretty frosting behind the plastic cover.  It’s shades of cream and citrus and decorated with cherries.  Your - and his - favourite cake from that day.

“You’re not supposed to see the cake ahead of time!”  It’s Namjoon bursting into the kitchen looking alarmed.

You laugh first, bright and sunny.  “It’s a birthday cake, not a wedding dress.”

But as you kiss him, cake cradled gingerly between your bodies, Yoongi thinks he wouldn’t mind seeing you in that, either.

notes.  this final chapter was short and sweet but i hope you enjoyed it.  thank you for reading!  x

tag list.  @hoodmeup​​ @loveyoongles​ @vi-hoshi​ 

[adamfoolcry]

of coffees and holidays (d.sc)

pairings: Ballerina!Sicheng x CafeOwner!FemReader

rating: 13+

warnings: swearing

genre: angst and fluff

synopsis: Your and Sicheng's love story in five coffees with varying degrees of sweetness spanning five Christmases.

word count: 3k+

a/n: for @127-mile, I hope I did justice for your prompt. Hope you enjoy reading it. Happy Holidays! 🎅 Thank you to @neoculturechristmas for organizing such fun event. It can be read in chronological order if y'all wanted to. I promise it's a happy ending. Not proofread so please excuse the mistakes, I am so dumb. Please reach out to me if you would like to do so. - xo aria

Christmas 2019 - Espresso

Outside as flakes of snow fell from the sky, like a light shower of glitter from the heavens, the elusive holiday spirit seemingly present in the air; you watched a young couple huddled together to share warmth, fingers intertwined, cheeks glowing red partnered with coy smiles on their faces, and a family of three in admiration of their son as he showed off his Christmas gift. The streetlights emitting an orange glow providing an aura of softness, making everything come together to form a picturesque scene.

Heartwarming as these scenes were, they failed to evoke any emotion out of you; if anything you feel excluded from it entirely. To you the world behind the cafe's glass windows is just a film you're screening in the cinemas, and you were nothing but a mere spectator. You continue to stare listlessly at the throngs of people passing by until they all mesh into a blur of colors your eyes couldn't catch fast enough. That's better.

Inside the cafe although decorated with trinkets for the holidays there was an air of sadness permeating every corner and seated itself onto the furnishings. Lately it seems like sadness is following you around everywhere - like a shadow - and instead of trailing behind you it looms over you shrouding your every thought until it completely consumes you.

No one stepped foot inside the cafe and with no one to entertain your mind drifts to him. Sicheng.

How many days has it been? Since you last saw him. You've lost count, a lie you tell yourself to make the dull ache in your chest bearable. 

It's a torture how you could recall that day - the day you lost him - so vividly as if you are forced to relive it every time the silence eats away at your resolve; to tuck the moment into the deep recesses of your mind, where it can't hurt you. When every little thing reminds you of him, his favorite spot at the cafe, black turtlenecks and that undeleted grainy picture of his sitting in your gallery. 

You could never forget the look on his face, resignation etched into every crevice of his features, a forlorn smile on his lips. 

"I see," he said in a bittersweet tone before he turned his back at you. 

The slam of the door is the nail that hits the coffin. Sicheng is gone. He has already walked out of your life. That was the last you saw of him for he never visited the cafe again.

A month passed by when Sicheng called you. Your heart leaped as his name flashed on your screen and your thumb shakily pressed the answer button; afterwards lifting it near your ear.

There was no greeting as he uttered in his low voice that you have missed so much, "My flight to Russia is this Saturday." 

Your heart sank.

"I want you to see me off, ______." 

Don't go please stay with me but there are certain thoughts that weren't meant to be put into words so instead, "I'll be there." You reassured him.

But you never showed up at the airport that Saturday. Instead, you were at the cafe staring at the screen of your phone blinking on and off as a wave of notifications with his name flooded your phone. Why make things harder? As if him leaving wasn't hard enough. You pressed the power button long enough to shut down your phone.

The following days passed away into months that's a haze in your mind. You can't recall anything worth remembering. You quickly filled up your schedule with mundane tasks just to have something to do filling every gap of your vacant time. 

At night you fell straight to bed, your body collapsing from the physical strain you have subjected it with. Establishing a packed routine without idle time so you don't have time to linger on the dull ache in your chest - always there like a festering wound. This works until you find your list of chores unexpectedly accomplished earlier than you planned, the cafe shrouded in still quietness. 

Alone with nothing else to do the dull ache amplified to a crippling one and it bites you right back in your face, forcing you to acknowledge the hollow feeling that seems to reside in your chest permanently. Your eyes would be heavier, your vision blurry, trying to blink away the tears but ultimately failing as it trails down your cheeks; you clutch at your chest because it hurts and you regret that the last you'll see of Sicheng is that face of hurt he wore.

Christmas 2016 - Vanilla Latte

You placed the cup of vanilla latte sitting on a saucer on the table daintily, pushing the saucer across the wooden table towards the customer, avoiding to make any noise. The customer seemed so engrossed with the novel he is reading - nose almost touching the pages - that you don't want to disturb him. 

The said customer is a regular, there was not a month that he hasn't visited the cafe. Showing up five minutes after you flip the signage to open, with no fail not even a minute late. 

Wearing all black from head to toe, a tall lithe figure, and an androgynous facial structure, your guess is that he works as a model. Even now without trying he is captivating; he makes the cafe look like a set for a magazine spread just by lounging in the matching cherry wood table and chair, and you can't help but stand there and shamelessly stare at him. god really has his favorites.

His work must require him to travel to different countries and have photoshoots in scenic spots, oh how you wish you could also jetset to other countries. Packed schedule for the day that he doesn't have time to think about what he is going to do next. That is a luxury you don't have especially in the ber months for there is a decline in customers and with no one to entertain, your mind goes on an overdrive pondering on uncharted waters of how you have nothing else going for you but run this cafe.

Aside from his penchant to wear all black, read a novel while drinking his choice of beverage - choice of beverage you ask? - you see the other peculiar thing about this man is that he doesn't have a 'regular drink'. Most if not all people who go to a cafe know what they are going to order before they have set foot inside. This man doesn't, his eyes would flit on the menu, scanning from left to right and back again. It is almost ritual like, this would go on for a good minute or two as you drum your fingers on the counter waiting for his order. 

The snow is falling outside covering the otherwise grey pavement white, decorations for the festivities hung around the four corners of your quaint cafe. Yet here he is, nursing a cup of coffee instead of being somewhere else. Doesn't he have a family? to celebrate Christmas with?

"Can I help you?" The man said, turning his face slightly in your direction not quite yet abandoning the book in his hand.

"Ohh uhmm-" you were jolted out of your trance, startled you took a sidestep only to collide with the chair where a large unzipped duffel bag was placed. The contents of the bag spilled over. 

"Shit! I am sorry." You quickly knelt to the ground to pick up the scattered items on the floor, the man joined you. Charger, earphones, epsom salt, bandage, and tiger balm ointment as you picked up the items you also increasingly grew baffled. What a weird assortment of things. You reached for the item that somehow managed to get under the table and as your fingers came in contact with the rough material of the cloth you learned that your assumption of his job was wrong. A man's canvas ballet shoes.

I thought he was a model.

"What?" The man questioned. You wince to yourself you just didn't say that out loud. You emerge from under the table to find that the man was looking at you too intently for your liking. His eyes sought out yours waiting for an explanation and as if you owe him one you started explaining yourself. 

"Well, you are tall and extremely handsome so .." Cringing as the words flew out of your mouth. The man chuckled at your confession, a tell tale sign of a smile on the corner of his lips.

"I am flattered really but as you can deduct by now I actually do ballet." He rose to his feet and offered you his hand to help you stand up. 

Unlike other days where he will leave the cafe after an hour or two, this time he stayed and unlike other days where you find yourself alone in the cafe; you find yourself enjoying the company of this mysterious man. 

Where you quickly learned that all your presumptions about him have little truth in it. You learned that his name is Sicheng, and he is a principal dancer for the Korean National Ballet company not a model although with his looks he might as well be one. Yes, he travels but mostly for tours and performances. He practices an average of eight hours a day. 

Your fascination for his life spurred the conversation as if you were friends catching up with each other. With the book set aside and the contents of the cup long empty you two didn't notice how much time had passed. He bid you goodbye with a promise to visit you again tomorrow. As you watch his retreating figure getting smaller, the snow piling on top of each other over the glass windows of the cafe there was a smile on your lips - the warmth of a newfound friendship is akin to a good cup of coffee - making you warm from the inside out.

Christmas 2017 - Cappuccino

"Surprise me," Sicheng said leaning on his hip at the counter, arms crossed on his chest, when you asked him what he would like to drink. Standing there he looked like the culmination of your dreams.

Maybe it's the iridescent lights from the numerous christmas lights that flickered on his face making him look more exquisite or the grin he gave you after. You did surprise him but not in the way he was expecting and to be honest you are also shocked by your sudden brazenness as you lean in to kiss his plush lips. The kiss didn't last long, a little more than a peck but long enough for you to regret it.

"I .. I am sorry," you stammered burying your heating up face in your hands, embarrassed. You didn't even see Sicheng's reaction, was he appalled? You peeked through your fingers to find out, when Sicheng started laughing, tipping his head back a little, eyes crinkled in mirth, his right hand covering the half of his handsome face. 

You want nothing more than to shrivel up in one corner. He started tugging at your wrists, pulling your hands away from your burning face.

"Mind giving me more of that surprise?" The corner of his lips curved upwards, nose slightly crinkled, and you wished to etch his face to memory.

Christmas 2018 - Americano

He was late, you glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, it is now 11 P.M. and soon Christmas will be over. 

The americano you have prepared already cold, his untouched while yours halfway finished. It's fine though because you know that this will be the first of the many Christmases you have to spend without Sicheng. You must get used to spending it alone again. 

Musing to yourself your mind quickly took a trip down the memory lane of his last visit to the cafe before he got on tour with the company for one of the holiday stage productions. 

--------

You have only heard the thud of the door as it closed on its hinges. You are currently cleaning the countertop back bowed and eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you meticulously scrubbed at the stubborn grease that won’t budge, lifting your head to do the customary greeting, when something or rather someone barreled straight to where you are, engulfing you in a tight hug that shoved you headfirst into that someone’s chest your nose burrowed deeply into the black cloth. 

Recognizing the intoxicating scent of light musk and citrus, relief flooded you as you hugged Sicheng back. You don't know how long the two of you stayed in that position basking yourself with his warmth just a little longer.

He's real, he's here a safe and solid presence by your side. You can count by one hand the things that have endured with you throughout the years, other than the cafe which you have run since your mother got sick, dropping out of college to keep it going. And one of those is Sicheng you've found in him stability and comfort your past partners can't give you.

Sicheng pulled away putting some distance between the two of you, his arms naturally falling at his sides. He was wearing one of his brightest smiles, the apple of his cheeks high and pronounced on his face.

"_______, I've been offered the position of principal dancer at Bolshoi Ballet in Russia," He can't help but smile again clearly enthusiastic with the prospect of joining one of the most prestigious ballet companies.

It took you a moment to answer settling with an unconvincing, "Wow." You don't know how to react with his news, but you feel dread in the pit of your stomach. You don't like the idea of him leaving. You try not to let it show in your face.

"I know. I was also surprised." As if sensing the change in your demeanor he asked concerned, "Is something wrong, ______?" 

"Nothing let me whip you a drink I found from the net," you brushed him off with a wave of your hand. 

----------

"Hey _______, I am sorry there was some minor traffic that held us back," Sicheng announced his entrance that broke your reverie. Setting his duffel bag on the floor to sit on the opposite chair facing you.

His hair tousled, cheeks rosy and nose red but despite his healthy complexion you can also see the pronounced bags under his eyes with a tinge of violet. He looks tired and in dire need of rest. Yet he headed straight to the cafe instead of his apartment. 

"Sicheng I've wanted to tell you something," perching your arms on the table to fiddle with the ear of the cup.

"Yeah?" Sicheng asked, staring right at you.

"I think," you cast your eyes down on the table, and with a small voice continued, "we should break up." 

"You think?" 

"I mean we should"

"Why?"

"I ... it's just that it will be easier for you." Your hands started gesticulating in the air.

"Don't give me that bull shit. You are not the judge of that," Sicheng replied in a cold manner.

"It's just you have this life before me and you'll also have a life after me." Your voice cracked, and you gathered your strength to look at him. "I am grateful that you have been a part of my life. You are crazy talented and right now the world opens up in front you and you deserve better. I can't give you that I ..-," clutching at your chest, "I am just me."

"It's nice to know that you think of me as some temporary phase in your life and here I am fool enough to think that maybe you'll want to come with me to Russia," a cruel laugh slipped from his lips, "christ, I can't even choose what coffee I'll be having and finally for once in my life I've never been so sure of anything," voice trailing, "but us.

"So I'll still ask because I know I will regret it, if I don't. Do you want to come with me?" Sicheng pierced you with his eyes, wearing his heart out on a sleeve. Leaving himself unguarded and hoping you'll come through.

But you have never been brave. "I'll stay and you go."

"I see," he said in a bittersweet tone before he turned his back at you. 

Christmas 2020 - White Chocolate Mocha

"I told you Renjun you don't have to do your shift at Christmas." You look up to reprimand Renjun, and instead are met with familiar feline eyes that seem to see right through you. There stood Sicheng looking like an intricate piece of art displayed in the museums. It is more painful to look at him than anybody warned it would be. It hurts how familiar you are with him still dressed in black - turtleneck and slacks, his trusty duffel bag hanging on one shoulder, he's still the same but now you are nothing more than a past fling to him.

"Hey," Sicheng walked towards the counter greeting you.

"Hey," you shake your head from the trance that took over you, "Oh I'll make you something."

"I'll have a white chocolate mocha." Slightly surprised by his request it took you a second to start preparing it.

"When did you come back?" You inquired as you moved about to prepare his drink.

"Yesterday night" 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have fetched me?" He asked nonchalantly.

You momentarily stiffen evading to answer the question you throw another at him, "How are you? Is Russia treating you well?"

"Can we cut the crap out? As much as I love dancing, I don't like dancing around in circles. I've come back for one reason only." 

"Will you come with me to London?"

Looking at Sicheng standing there - after how much you have hurt him - you thought you will never see him again and you have long accepted that punishment. You are not brave and you will never be but

"Yes, I'd love to go with you."

what you have with him is worth it.

a/n: Read more of my works for NCT here:masterlist

[markleesthighs]

Can you make another jaemin x BOY reader? Since he looks so good and badboyish with his new raven black hair, can you make one where jaemin is the only son of a mafia leader who gambles, drag races, and other reckless underground stuff and the boy reader is a pure, fragile, and perfect ballet dancer and honor student, an only son of an ambassador. Like a dangerous boy meets a delicate boy or like romeo and juliet? Thankieeeeeee!🖤🤍

-aw this is so cute this concept... *chefs kiss*

Forbidden Moonlight

You attend one of the most prestigious art schools in the country. Everyone there had to go through rigorous testing, students needed to be academically and artistically smart and creative. You and your peers were the top 5% of the country where you’d all grow to be famous artists after you graduate. But there was one student who you were confused about was Na Jaemin. Apparently he got into school because of his amazing graffiti art and gambling skills. You got into the school from your amazing ballet performance and you being at the top of your class with perfect grades. You were the only son of an ambassador so your family had high expectations for you. Specifically, they support you for dancing but they push hard for your academics. Every grade you receive you have to report to your parents so they can keep track of your progress. You arrive to dance classes early, always volunteer for every club or in class, and keep up the best grades in the grade.

You were perfect as people say, and you got asked out by several guys in your class but you always kindly reject them simply telling them you don’t have time for a relationship. Jaemin on the flip side was just as popular as you, getting confessions from guys and girls but he also rejected them always saying his catchphrase, “you couldn’t keep up with me.” Rumors spread that he was a mafia leader and already had a spouse and kids but you didn’t know what to believe. Your parents would have scolded you for being distracted by silly things. Yet you still found yourself intrigued by him, he was everything you weren’t, a troublemaker, laid back, and competes in drag races instead of doing any work. You always wondered how he stayed in your school, despite his work ethic.

One night you went out to pick up a study snack from a local restaurant with a sweet old lady who would always give you extra of whatever food she sold. When you walked home you were staring at your phone, listening to music when you accidentally bumped into someone.

“Oh, I’m so sorry...”

You looked up to see a man at least a foot taller than you and had a huge build, he could definitely crush you would his fingers if he could.

“HEY watch where you’re going twerp!”

“I’m really sorry, I’ll just go-“

“Oh no you’re not! You need to learn your lesson!”

He grabbed you by the collar and brought you aside to the alley where he pinned you agains the grimy brick.

“You’re going to regret bumping into me-“

“Let him go...he’s worth a lot to this city.” A voice called.

“Boss??”

“Jaemin??”

“How do you know the boss??”

“That’s none of your concern, Sebastion, now go back to work.”

“Come with me y/n, you’re coming.”

“Wh- I gotta go back-“

Before you can say anything you were suddenly on his motorbike riding to his mansion. You got off his bike and were fathomed by his luxurious lifestyle, you expected him to live in a messy apartment for some reason. You walked in as you were greeted by a bunch of maids taking off your jacket and giving you heated slippers and a face towel. You kindly thanked them as Jaemin plopped down on his couch. You shyly walked over to join him.

“Here’s the deal, y/n, you’re dad owes me something of mine, and I need to keep you here as leverage got it?”

“Are you seriously expecting me to the calm about this? Jaemin this is crazy, my mind is circling...”

“Well...” He moved closer. “There’s no chance of me letting you go...willingly at least.”

Your face heated up smelling his light cigarette breath.

“But I assure you that you will be treated like a king here since you are my guest, so you might as well get comfortable.”

Jaemin got up and grabbed your hand giving you a tour, from olympic sized pools, bowling alley to shooting ranges and torture rooms. The tour ended at the bedroom, Jaemin’s bedroom.

“You’re going to be sleeping in my bedroom, since I don’t trust the other guys in the house if you’re alone in the room, all of them are horn dogs. I’ll leave you alone to refresh yourself.” Jaemin left and closed the door.

You were freaking out having a meltdown in the bedroom pacing back and forth. You decided a shower would calm you down, you undressed and stepped in the shower. You smelled the musk of Jaemin, it was warm and comforting, the complete opposite of his appearance. You dried and realized there were not pajamas for you. So you threw on one of Jaemin’s shirts and sweatpants. You opened the bedroom door to let Jaemin know you were done.

Jaemin turned and saw you, barefaced, raw, and he thought you looked breathtaking. It was a different look, and he liked what he was seeing. He went to shower and when he walked out he saw you staring at the night sky while sitting on the bed. He admired you looking at the moonlight the bright moon gleaming against your skin, the light shining though your irises and the reflection of the moon in your eyes. He snapped out of it and asked you if you were going to bed. You quietly nodded and tucked yourself in facing away from Jaemin. You didn’t know what to think, you were speechless about the situation.

Jaemin sighed and joined you in bed but he couldn’t fall asleep. He just keep watching you, making sure you were asleep and sleeping well. Despite the plush and lavish sheets you were shivering, from the cold room and a bit of anxiety. You didn’t know what was going to happen tomorrow, your father is the type to send a whole army after you, you didn’t want anyone to get hurt. Jaemin snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Cold?”

“Y-yeah a bit, but I’m fine.”

You felt a warm embrace, Jaemin’s wrapped his arms around you tucking his head into your neck. It was comforting, warm, and nurturing. Your shivering calm down and you felt yourself drift off to sleep. While you were asleep Jaemin kissed you temple

“Goodnight, y/n.”

You woke up to some giggles by the maids cleaning up Jaemin’s room. Your vision was blurry but you noticed you were facing Jaemin as he was holding you in a warm embrace. You stared at Jaemin for a minute, his face was calm and serene, and his hair was a little messy. You smiled playing with his hair as he groaned in pleasure. A maid came in a rang a bell as Jaemin woke up confused.

“Master Jaemin, it’s time for school.”

He got up and sighed as he collapsed back into bed. You tried to get out of bed but Jaemin kept trying to pull you back in.

“Get up sleepyhead, you gotta show me your closet.”

Jaemin lazily got up and opened his finger print locked closet. It opened up to dozens of racks and shelves of designer clothing. Jaemin walked over to two bags one from YSL and one from Fendi.

“I asked one of the maids to pick an outfit from you I didn’t know which one you liked so you can pick one.” You peeked in each box and chose the one from YSL, putting it on in the dressing room and you walked out to see Jaemin shirtless. You apologized but he told you to stay and brought you closer. Your eyes traced his body.

“Take a picture it will last longer baby.”

You blushed hard and looked away. Why did he make butterflies appear in your stomach? He put on the rest of his outfit and sprayed his cologne and you were still looking away from him. Jaemin grabbed your chin and pecked your cheek.

“You have a beautiful face don’t hide hide it from me.”

You pecked his lips

“Well if you didn’t make me so flustered I think I’d look at you more often.”

That made Jaemin’s eyes go wide in shock.

“Don’t test me now baby, or will I have to show you how to play nice?”

You rolled your eyes as you walked passed him. He chased after you as you both ate a light breakfast and walked outside together holding hands. He gave you a helmet and he held your hand and made you wrap your arms around his waist. You arrived to school with a bunch of eyes all over you two. You were averting gazes but Jaemin held your hand as you both walked. You smiled at him as you walked together. You got gazes of jealousy and shock. You walked into class and Jaemin held you close squeezing your hand in reassurance.

“Would Mr. y/n l/n please come down the the front office please.”

You looked at Jaemin in confusion but he let you go alone to the office. You walked in and saw your father and mother standing there next to the principal. They led you into the principals office.

“y/n as you know you went missing last night according to your parents, once we were notified that you arrived on campus we contacted your parents. If you don’t mind, would you mind explaining to your parents where you went?”

“Did they drug you? Did they harm you?” Sobbed your mother

“Were you threatened? Do you know how worried we were how reckless are you?!” scolded your father.

“Well, I was with Na Jaemin, he helped me that night after I was being harassed. Is there anything you need to explain to me, dad, regarding Na Jaemin? Does that name ring a bell?”

The principal stepped out by simply saying that he won’t be involved or eavesdrop on family affairs and he shut the door.

“y/n, the Na family is the most powerful mafia family in the country right now, I have to meet and do deals with them to maintain the safety of this country. Last night I made an offer to Jaemin, and he accepted it saying he would return you to school the next morning.”

“How’d you know where I was?”

“I received intel from a mafia member who saw you with Jaemin.”

“What did you offer Jaemin?”

“That’s none of your concern, from now on I want you to stop affiliating yourself with him, he’s too dangerous for you. I forbid you from seeing him off campus, y/n.”

“WH-“

“As your father and guardian, I need to do what’s best to protect you and keep you on a clear track. No more boys no more mafia business.”

You felt as if you were going to cry, how were you going to tell Jaemin? What is he going to do? What if him and you father go to war? You couldn’t have that you’d have to choose. So who will you choose?

part 2

[ashyblondwaves]

3 for the smutty prompts!

Title: Hidden

Sentence: “We should probably leave, before we start a scandal.”

Summary: A cozy dinner for two turns into so much more.

Rating: Explicit

The table was small, set at the back of the restaurant away from the other patrons. They sat just in front of the fireplace, the soft glow casting some of the only light they had.

Just as they requested.

There were still looks as they were being seated. A quick glance that turned into a double take, eyes squinting to see if they were really seeing who they thought they were. If anyone caught on, they hadn't made it known yet. And for that, Wanda was grateful.

She knew it'd end up online anyway: "Avenger Wanda Maximoff Spotted With Mystery Man Enjoying a Romantic Dinner." But as long as nobody bothered them while they were out, she could deal with the online speculation afterward.

Wanda looked over at her mystery man. Tall, blonde, with curious blue eyes scanning the room. He was anything but a mystery to her.

"Vis?" Those curious blue eyes were on her in an instant. "Pass me your glass of wine?"

Vision happily obliged, handing the glass of ruby liquid to Wanda. She took a sip, savoring the tart flavor of her third glass. She wasn't much of a drinker -- and she was already feeling the effects -- but since it was already poured, she figured it'd be a shame to let it go to waste.

"Ooh," Wanda said, setting her glass down. "My lips are tingling."

Vision smiled at her knowingly. "That's the first sign of intoxication, you know."

"I guess I'm a lightweight then," Wanda replied, reaching out to take Vision's hand. "Thank you for bringing me here. I know it must be weird to come to a restaurant when you don't eat or drink."

Vision was focused on their hands. Fingers laced together, thumbs caressing each other's skin. He brought them to his lips, pressing a kiss to the top of Wanda's hand.

"I know you've been wanting to come here," he whispered. "Who am I to deny you of that?"

"It has to be boring, though."

"You know I love watching you enjoy yourself," Vision reminded her, his words thick with innuendo.

He's said the same thing to her before in the privacy of her dimly lit bedroom. She sat in his lap with him buried inside her, rolling her hips to feel every inch of him, controlling the motions and the way the head of his cock just grazed her g-spot with every swirl of her hips. And as she came he looked at her with purpose and told her, "I love watching you enjoy yourself." She finished him with her hands that night, making sure to watch his face contort with pleasure, head falling back as the waves of his orgasm consumed him, and she realized that she, too, liked to watch Vision enjoy himself.

Wanda felt a familiar throb. It started at the bottom of her stomach and ran down between her legs, causing her to squirm in her seat. She sat up straighter and took a sip of her wine, emboldened by the liquid courage already coursing through her system.

Leaning forward, she pressed her palm to Vision’s cheek, letting her fingers caress his hair. She still wasn't used to his disguise, but if it allowed her to be with him in public without the scrutiny, she was willing to make the best of being on the arm of the alleged mystery man.

Vision leaned into Wanda's hand, turning his head so he could kiss her palm. His eyes rose to hers, searching. "What are you up to?"

He could see it in her eyes, Wanda guessed. That mischievous twinkle that appeared when she was plotting something new. Instead of answering, Wanda slipped her foot from her ballet flat and showed Vision exactly what she was up to.

With careful movements, she propped her foot on Vision's chair, settling her foot right between his legs.

"Scoot toward me a little bit," Wanda whispered. "I can't reach you like this."

"Wanda..." Vision's voice was full of trepidation, but curiosity won and he moved forward in his seat.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," Wanda said.

She gently pressed the bottom of her foot to the front of Vision's pants and massaged the bulge there. Her movements were steady and gentle, switching between rubbing up and down and moving in circles. She watched his face as she worked him. The struggle to keep his composure as he grew harder underneath her, the gentle fluttering of his eyelids when she grazed certain spots that felt good. He was enjoying himself.

But there was only so much they could do in the middle of a restaurant with eyes everywhere and mouths ready to become an anonymous source for the right price.

“We should probably leave, before we start a scandal,” Wanda said, pulling her foot away from between Vision's legs.

They quickly flagged down someone to bring them their check, paid and vacated the restaurant before anyone could notice them.

They walked hastily, neither of them speaking but knowing where the night was headed when suddenly, Vision pulled Wanda in the direction on a small alley and pressed her up against the brick wall. There was a hunger in his eyes that Wanda hadn't seen before. A flame that lit up his blue eyes with mischief and wonder.

"Tell me if you want me to stop."

He repeated Wanda's words before sneaking his hand up her skirt and between her legs, cupping her panty covered middle with his large hand. He rubbed her in the same steady, gentle movements she used on him but when the chance came, he used their privacy to his advantage and moved beyond her panties. He slipped his fingers between her folds and pressed his mouth to Wanda's ear.

"Here?" he asked, teasing her clit with the tips of his fingers. "Or would you prefer to go home first?"

Wanda pulled Vision to her and kissed him quickly. "I don't want to wait until we're home," she said, looking him right in the eyes and seeing that flame still there. "And I don't think you do, either."

She appreciated that he asked her preference, but there was no need. She would have taken him in the restaurant if it wouldn't have caused a scene. She gave him a nod and a smile silently telling him in was okay to proceed. That was all he needed.

Wanda whimpered when Vision took his hand out from between her legs. With both hands, he pulled her panties off and as she kicked out of them and stuffed them in her purse to keep them from sitting on the ground, Vision worked on his pants.

She watched him fumble with his belt in his haste, smiling to herself over his complete lack of finesse in the moment. The amazing things she's seen him do in battle and here he was fighting with his belt. She decided to help him out, undoing the belt with ease which allowed him to finish undoing his pants and pulling them down, freeing himself at last.

Wanda lifted one of her legs, hooking it around Vision's waist while keeping the other on the ground to steady herself. Vision held her there, a protective hand on her thigh as he bent at the knee to line himself up with Wanda's hips. He held his cock in his free hand, pressing the head against Wanda's entrance. With a single thrust he pushed into her, burying himself inside her warmth.

With Wanda's leg around Vision's waist, she pulled him closer, keeping his thrusts shallow and quick. She reveled in how he felt inside her. How he filled her so completely and how each snap of his hips felt so impossibly good she didn't ever want it to end. But she knew she wouldn't last long when Vision brought his hand between them and found her clit again, rubbing it softly as he moved within her.

She felt her orgasm building at her core, each stroke of Vision's fingers on her clit brought her closer to finishing. She knew he could tell she was close when he sped up his movements, keeping his thrusts shallow but quicker and using the pads of his fingers to rub her clit faster. It all culminated at once, the faster speed giving her that last push and she cried out, tangling her hands in Vision's hair and bringing him down for a rough kiss. Everything was happening at once, her nerves were on fire and she could feel every inch of Vision inside her as her walls clenched around him.

Vision continued, closing in on his own orgasm. He pressed his forehead to Wanda's, his thrusts becoming quicker. "Where should I-" a moan cut off his sentence, but he picked right back up. "Inside you?"

Wanda nodded. "Inside me."

Vision's movements sped up even more. With her back against the wall and arms around his neck, Wanda hung on and coaxed him further by purposefully clenching her walls around his cock, making him groan with each contraction. And then he stilled as his orgasm hit. He stayed buried inside Wanda as he came, filling her completely.

Being outside, there was no time to enjoy the bliss. They dressed quickly and headed back out onto the street hand-in-hand. Neither of them spoke on the walk home, but with the grip Vision has on Wanda's hand, she knew he'd enjoyed himself.

[jaskierswolf]

Born to Make History Pt. 1/3

Summary: Jaskier is preparing for his first Grand Prix Final. He's skating to On Love: Eros and his routine tells the story of the seductress that woos a certain silver haired hockey player. The only problem is Jaskier can barely stay on his feet whenever Geralt is in the room.

An Ice Skating AU (With Yuri on Ice references but you don’t need to have seen it)

Geraskier - AO3 __________

Jaskier cursed as he felt the edge of his skate catch the ice. He landed ceremoniously on his arse. The take off into the quad salchow had been perfect. He’d gotten enough speed and height as he hugged his arms to his chest as he span in the air. He’d spread his arms wide for the landing but his fucking skate had hit the ice wrong.

“Shit!” He groaned as he went flying across the ice on his butt. “Fucking, cock, balls!”

The grand prix final was flying towards them at breakneck speed and he was beginning to flail. No one had expected him to qualify this year. It was his fifth year in the senior division and whilst he’d done well in regionals and nationals, he was still trying to break into the international league, and this was apparently his year.

“Julian!” Yennefer snapped as she skated over to him. “What the fuck was that? You can land a Salchow in your sleep!”

Yennefer Vengerberg. The bane of his life, otherwise known as his coach and choreographer. She’d also hooked him up with a ballet teacher, Triss Merigold, and he had never been so elegant on the ice. She was still the bane of his life. She was an incredible teacher and was in her prime the best female skater in the world. She’d retired from competing three years ago following an accident on the ice that had injured her spine. She was no longer allowed to make the jumps but her skating and step sequences were still to die for.

She was also insanely strict and honestly scared the shit out of him.

“I fucked up the landing.” He moaned.

“Yes.” She said with a quirk of her eyebrow. “I can see that. Do it again.”

Jaskier scrambled to his feet and skated a loop around the rink to find his feet again.  He would have some lovely bruises but everything seemed to be in order. His ankles weren’t damaged which was the main thing. He sighed as he closed his eyes, picturing the music in his mind as he ran through the routine just before the quad salchow. He licked his lips as he took a deep breath before pushing up off the ice.

He soared through the air as the music sang in his head and then landed perfectly. He grinned and moved through onto the next part of the routine.

“Not terrible!” Yennefer called which was Yennefer speak for actually pretty damned good.

By the time he’d finished the routine he was panting slightly and there was a dull burning in his thighs. His butt was sore but that was probably more to do with his crash than the routine. He skated over to the edge of the rink and rest his arms on the side. “Better?” He asked Yennefer with a wink.

“Your triple axel combination needs work. Your arms were all over the place and would you please stop sticking your tongue out during the step sequences? You look like Roach.” Yennefer rattled off, counting each mistake on her perfectly manicured fingers.

Roach. That was her ex’s cat. He’d seen photographs whenever Ciri, her daughter, joined them at the rink. Ciri was an adorable young girl who was eager to join in once they’d finished up their practice. Jaskier would always guide Ciri around the rink by her tiny gloved hands and help lift her as she jumped from one foot to another. She had ice-skating in her blood. Her father, Geralt Rivia, was a professional hockey player and owner of Jaskier’s heart. Every time Geralt came by to pick up or drop off Ciri, Jaskier stumbled on the ice. He was just so gorgeous that Jaskier apparently lost control of his limbs and turned into a puddle of Jaskier goo on the ice.

He sighed wistfully as he pictured Geralt’s lovely amber eyes and shining silver hair. Of course he was an ice-skater. He even looked like he’d been blessed by some ice spirit or something. Jaskier had had many a dream about pair skating with Geralt, the feel of his strong arms lifting Jaskier high up into the air.

“Jaskier! Are you even listening to me?” Yennefer prodded him in the arm. She sounded completely exasperated, which Jaskier supposed wasn’t entirely uncalled for. He hadn’t been listening and he had no idea how long he’d been daydreaming for.

“Umm.”

“Give me strength.” She groaned and skated away from him with a roll of her eyes. “Can we go through it again with music? Lower the jump difficulty if you’re tired but I want to see your performance.”

He sighed and pushed off from the barrier, tossing his fringe from his eyes. “I. You… My, My performance is excellent!” He muttered.

“Your performance is shit.” Yennefer countered. “Remember your tongue is supposed to stay inside your mouth. Otherwise you’ll bite through it and I’m not taking you to hospital.”

“Urgh.” Jaskier groaned but moved into his starting position. “Just press play already.”

“Oh and Jaskier?”

“What?”

“Geralt is coming in with Ciri. Please do try and stay on your feet.” She smirked and clicked play. The strumming of a guitar filled the room as On Love: Eros began to play.

Jaskier stumbled over his first few moves. Stupid Yennefer and Geralt. He yelled with frustration as he settled into the routine. He knew this. He was good at this. The costume always helped his performance but he was Eros. He was great at seduction. He could charm just about anyone… who wasn’t Geralt. He moved with grace and elegance as he glided around the ice like the seductress that he was. In his mind Geralt was the playboy lover that had come to town and Jaskier was Yennefer. He would seduce the man who had stolen his heart. He had been doing it all season, not that Geralt had ever seen any of his performances but that didn’t matter.

He lowered all his quads to triples. They’d been training for hours and doing quads at this point was too dangerous. His muscles were tired and this run through was about the performance.

Seduction.

Lust.

Love?

The music stopped and the only noise that was left in the rink was the sound of his panting.

He’d done it.

“Yay! Jaskier!” Ciri yelled and clapped. He spun round to see her and Geralt watching from the edge of the rink.

“Oh fudge!” He muttered as he caught Geralt’s eyes. Oh good lord he was so handsome. At least Jaskier was already red in the face from his performance. He could pretend the way his heart was racing was solely to do with exertion.

“Jaskier that was amazing!” She shrieked and grabbed at the rails.

“Ciri, your skates aren’t tied up.” Geralt reminded her as he scooped her up into one arm.

Jaskier laughed and skated over to them. “Thank you, Ciri.” He smiled at the young girl. “Umm. Hi.” He muttered at Geralt a little awkwardly.

“Heard you got to the finals. Congratulations.” Geralt nodded.

“Ah yeah.” Jaskier ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Thanks. What did you think?” He asked. “Three words or less?”

“Not bad.”

Jaskier pouted. Great. His first review from the unrequited love of his life and it was ‘not bad.’

“Right. Well.” He muttered. “Thanks for that.” He went to pushed off from the barrier but Geralt grabbed his arm. Jaskier’s eyes snapped up to meet Geralt’s. The blush on his cheeks only intensifying at the contact.

“It was good.” Geralt said in his gravelly voice that made Jaskier’s heart go wild.

God he should have chosen Agape to skate to. Never mind trying to seduce Geralt, he was completely gone on the man. “Oh.”

“I like the music.” Geralt continued with a slight frown.

Jaskier chuckled. “Three words or less, that’s four.”

“You skate beautifully.” Geralt smirked and Jaskier’s skate slipped underneath him.

“Oh sugar!” He groaned as he fell back but Geralt was still gripping onto his arm and he managed not to fall on his arse. “Shhh… Sherbet. Thank you, thanks.” He muttered. “I’m just… gonna.” He pointed to the other side of the rink where there was a gap in the barriers. “I think I’ve skated enough today.”

“But Jaskier!” Ciri whined. “You were going to help me with my toe jump.” She pouted at him with wide emerald eyes.

“Oh alright then. Get your skates on.” Jaskier bopped her on the nose.

“You don’t have to.” Geralt growled. “You must be tired.”

Jaskier waved his hands and scoffed. “Nonsense. I made a promise, Geralt.”

“Hmm. Can I join you?”

Jaskier’s heart stopped in his chest. He resisted the urge to pinch himself. Did he hit his head when he fell earlier? Was this all some dream? Oh god, he was definitely dreaming. “Oh, umm yeah. Yeah. Sure.”

“Might need someone to catch you again.” Geralt chuckled and Jaskier gaped at him.

“Geralt!” He whined. “I am a top figure skater!”

Geralt shrugged.

“Take that back!” Jaskier pointed at him. “Take that back or I’m not letting you on the ice.”

“Hmm.” Geralt shrugged again.

Jaskier huffed and finally skated away from him. His heart still pounding in his chest. When he turned around he saw Yennefer watching them with a smirk from the other end of the rink.

“Are you done? I have notes.” She asked, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

He groaned but reluctantly skated over to his coach. Ciri still needed to finish tying up her skates and Geralt could keep her entertained whilst he finished up with training. He tried not to zone out whilst she pointed out all his mistakes but it was hard with Geralt being so close, and now they were going to skate together. It was a dream come true. It was only Yennefer’s piercing violet gaze that kept him from drifting off into a daydream. Honestly he was thankful that she was so terrifying. He wasn’t sure any other coach would be able to keep him in line. His first coach, when he was still in Oxenfurt, had been too relaxed and Jaskier had often just fucked about.

It wasn’t his fault he was so easily distracted.

The scraping of blades on the ice pulled his attention away. Yennefer sighed and dismissed him with a wave of her hand. Jaskier grinned and spun round to skate towards Ciri and Geralt. Ciri tried to skate away from Geralt towards him but stumbled as she reached him. Jaskier reached out to catch her with a laugh.

“There we go!” He said as he steadied her. “You’ll be a top skater in no time.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m going to play hockey!” Ciri grinned.

Jaskier pouted dramatically. “You won’t need me to teach you the toe loop then.” Ciri’s eyes went wide and she looked like she was about to cry. “But, seeing as you’re wearing figure skates instead of hockey ones.” He winked at Geralt. “I guess I will.”

Ciri grinned. “Thank you, Jaskier!”

They weren’t on the ice long. Jaskier was exhausted from training and Ciri was only young so she got bored quickly. Geralt mostly stayed out of their way, running laps around the rink whilst Jaskier and Ciri practiced her jump in the middle. After about twenty minutes Geralt joined them in the middle and caught Ciri in his arms.

“Enough now, cub.” He murmured. “Jaskier has a big competition coming up. Let him rest now.”

Ciri pouted. “Can we go and see him again?”

Jaskier froze.

Again?

What the fuck did that mean?

He stared at Geralt with wide eyes. Geralt was… blushing? Nah. It was probably just the cold air from the rink.

“Ciri likes to watch you skate.” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier smirked. “Ciri didn’t call my skating beautiful.” He glided forward slightly putting himself Geralt’s space.

God if Ciri wasn’t here right now….

He bit his lip as he tried to push those thoughts out of his head. Geralt wasn’t interested in him that way. He’d thought that Geralt barely knew he existed before today, but apparently that wasn’t entirely true. Geralt had sneakily been watching his performances.

“That was a joke.”

Jaskier laughed and skated a circle around Geralt. “I don’t think so!” He sang and then before his confidence could leave him. “It’s getting pretty cold in here. Did you wanna grab a hot drink or something?”

“Hot chocolate!” Ciri squealed and wiggled in Geralt’s arms.

“Or coffee?” Jaskier suggested with a tilt of his head. “I was up before the sun today. Yennefer doesn’t seem to understand the meaning of beauty sleep, or course looking like she does, I don’t blame her!”

“Coffee sounds good.” Geralt nodded and skated over to the exit with an excitable five year old in his arms.

Jaskier watched the pair of them, his gaze dropping down to Geralt’s sinfully round arse before grinning to himself and following them out of the rink. 

____

Next

[hoe-doroki]

impetus

A part of the ‘A Spare Heart’ series.

pairing: eventual Shouto x Reader later in the series

wc: 2.1k

genre: friendship

warnings: consensual use of Brainwashing and...subspace vibes?

summary: Ever since Shinsou found out what your quirk was, the two of you have been each other’s best friends and confidantes. But when he turns a casual training session into a tease over your supposed crush on someone in your class, that trust might just break.

a/n: It’s helpful, though not necessary, to have read Hollow Victory before this one, or at least its second chapter in order to understand the reader’s quirk. There are also references to an unpublished, upcoming story.

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

It was the wilderness of the U.A. campus, the part of the woods where you couldn’t even see the tall buildings, hear the constant explosions from the training grounds. You were walking around aimlessly, doing figure eights through the trees, touching your fingers through some of the low hanging branches, rocking a few steps up on your tip toes and then falling back to rock on your heels. It was drifting, completely meaningless as you focused on the subtle feeling of cutting through the air with every step, how your arms so gently swung in tandem with your legs—all the things you never usually thought about while walking.

“Now raise one foot to walk over the tree root. Okay, walk the same path again.”

Your body went where you were told, your toe lifting just over the gnarly root bursting through the grass, blond on top from where a lawn mower had nicked it. But still, it brought the big tree that was shading you water and security in the ground, no matter how many times its top was shaved off by mechanized blades.

“Walk it exactly ten times.”

Your body continued on the same path, just wide and winding enough not to be dizzying as Shinsou controlled your movements. It was nice to be completely out of control, for someone else to take the mechanisms of your body making all the decisions while your core kept you breathing, your heart beating. It was a shame people feared Shinsou’s quirk, avoiding any question he asked them with suspicious silence. There was nothing more freeing for you than this. And he got to work on the nuances of his quirk.

“You know, I feel I should tell you that I’m the reason Midoriya and them found out about you.”

It took a few seconds for his words to register as something other than a command. They pulled you out of your mindless, almost meditative space. You probably would have given a soft “Hmm?” if you could have, but, of course, you couldn’t speak.

“Technically, Google is what told them about you, but I’m the one who told them they should do it. Even though any idiot should be able to Google something.”

The path he had laid for you had you conveniently facing almost entirely away from him. You couldn’t move your neck or even your eyes, so as you walked, they stayed perfectly forward, in line with your spine and your chest and the heels of your slightly turned out feet. So you couldn’t see his body language or even if he was looking at you.

“So I just wanted to say I’m sorry, I guess. Even though all that I knew I found from the internet, I shouldn’t have told them anything. It wasn’t my business. Keep walking, but you can speak.”

The sudden control over your jaw, tongue, lips didn’t feel any different than the lack of it had felt a moment before. From past experience, you knew that if you’d been fighting the control, you would have just felt a distinct drop in tension from those areas, but you hadn’t been fighting. “Have you been thinking about this since July?”

“I guess so. I thought about it a bit while you were gone over summer break.”

“I wish you would have told me,” you said, also wishing your eyebrows could curl up in sympathy, but your face was fully blank except for your lips. Not that he was probably looking at you anyway.

“Because I’m not mad. Telling them to Google me isn’t exactly a betrayal.”

“I know, so I didn’t feel especially bad but still. It’s better for you to know.”

“I agree. Thanks for telling me.”

“Close your eyes and walk the same path.”

Your eyes shut instantly, but it felt like you’d lost control of your limbs—ridiculous since you weren’t controlling them in the first place. But there was a spilling of your equilibrium, your center of gravity swaying from side to side as your body suddenly forgot the path it had wrought for the last few minutes.

“Freeze!” Shinsou yelled suddenly and your whole body stiffened, just as your lifted right toes tapped something hard on the ground. “Open your eyes.”

Your slightly downward gaze spotted your slightly elevated foot just about to tip over the root cutting through your path. You’d been about to eat shit.

“Put your foot down and stand tall.”

You did, you shoulders rolled back in slightly better posture than you usually took. You’d learned good posture in the ballet classes your parents had put you in as a youth, but, as you were in the middle of your teenage years, you’d taken on the slump that all your peers adopted, the adolescent hunch of lackadaisy. Even though the fellow teenagers you were surrounded by were the most passionate people you’d ever met.

Shinsou stepped into your line of sight, an awkward smile on his face. “I guess that one didn’t work.”

You tried to speak, but his command to freeze must have canceled out his previous command enabling your speech. Then, all at once, you felt the hold on your tongue, the commanded posture release and your shoulders slumped. You were back to yourself again.

“Seems that walking with your eyes closed can’t work when you need your eyes to walk,” you said.

Shinsou shrugged. “It’s good to know. Ready to start again?”

You shook out your limbs a little. Nothing felt too stiff, since even with Shinsou brainwashing you, you would still walk with your normal gait unless he directed otherwise. But still, a little wiggle felt good, and when you were done, you stepped over the root you’d almost tripped over and nodded at him. “Yes.”

At your response, you felt Shinsou take gentle hold over your body again and he told you to walk the same path as before. Your body did, taking up the figure eight around the trees once again. It seemed that since your brain still knew what the path was, it didn’t matter that he’d dropped control of you in between commands. You felt yourself relaxing again, falling easier into the meditative place this practice took you to every time you and Shinsou did it. You heard birds chirping, leaves rustling, and wind whistling. Aside from the path ahead, there was nothing else to think about.

“Go confess your love to Todoroki-san.”

Your relaxation broke in an instant as suddenly all corners of your body flexed and failed against Shinsou’s hold on you. A scream of refute pealed from your mind, but it failed to make it past your lips as that old tension locked your jaw back up again. Your body began walking mechanically toward the 2-A dorms. You had no idea if that’s where Todoroki really was, but it must have been your subconscious’s assumption, as it was the first guess off the top of your head as well. But God, you hoped he was at the gym or the library…anywhere but where your footsteps were taking you.

Suddenly, the connection broke. The remains of your ended scream bled off your lips as a breathy “No!” squeezed out of your tense vocal folds. You spun around toward Shinsou, whose shoulders bounced up and down a couple times in a silent laugh that he was obviously trying to hide on his face. Then he put his hands up in an expression of false apology.

“Hey, you don’t think I’d actually make you do that, would you?”

“I’m not sure,” you growled. “Maybe it’s your idea of a funny joke.”

“No, this is my idea of a funny joke,” Shinsou corrected. “No harm, no foul.”

But as your face grew hot, you could feel the harm. Why had he even thought of that as something to do? Where was the comedy? What was the joke?

“I have every right to use my quirk on you now. Maybe you’ll feel some shame.”

“I’m sure I would feel ashamed,” Shinsou agreed. “But this was just practice, in case I really need to do this some day.”

You squinted at him. “Is that supposed to be a joke too?”

Shinsou seemed to catch onto your bewilderment and his head tilted to the side a crude imitation of sympathy on his face. “What, did you think I didn’t know?”

“What exactly do you think you know?” you asked, knowing exactly what he thought he knew. “I’m not in love with Todoroki-kun.”

“Well, maybe not love, but you certainly like him a lot, yes? C’mon, Y/N-chan, this isn’t news,” he said. “You talk about him…not infrequently.”

“He’s one of my best friends,” you explained, your heart beating quickly. You weren’t sure if it was remnants of the panic Shinsou’s command had sent through your mind latently hitting your bloodstream or what, but the heat in your face was spreading down your neck rapidly. “Of course I talk about him.”

You really didn’t understand Shinsou’s angle here. You probably talked about him with Todoroki as much as you talked about Todoroki to him, and Todoroki had never leveled this kind of accusation on you before. Not that you could imagine him doing so. But still, even if you imbued him with a feeling of truthfulness or if Shinsou brainwashed him the way he’d just done to you, you couldn’t imagine that kind of trash falling out of Todoroki’s mouth.

“You…” Shinsou blinked. “You don’t know. Or you’re in denial?”

“Look, as the person who’s kind of the expert on feelings here, hear me when I say this,” you started, referencing your quirk. “It’s possible for you to intuit a feeling that I’m unaware that I’m feeling. But it’s not likely. If I don’t know that I’m feeling it—as a person pretty goddamn in touch with my emotions—then it’s probably not there.”

Shinsou’s heavy lids were hanging tensely over his eyes. They were as squinted as ever, but there was a pinch to them as he continued to size you up. “Says the girl who had a childhood where kids teased you about being able to make people fall in love with her. The girl who had people run away from her, scared that she would do just that. Might that also be a girl who would be scared to fall in love with someone for real?”

The muscles around your lips tightened. “Sounds like you might be projecting a bit, Shinsou-kun.”

“Or empathizing,” he stated. “I thought that’s what we did for each other.”

If you refuted that line, then this would feel like a real fight. A breakup between friends. And your friendship was not what you were trying to stake this argument on, so you took a breath before you could tell him to eff right off or something similarly stupid, trying to get back a bit of that zen energy you’d felt while he’d been commanding your body to walk in lazy circles.

“Okay. I admit that I wouldn’t want to fall in love here,” you said. “Japan isn’t permanent for me, and I don’t think anyone I’ve met here would be willing to leave. So having anything more serious than a fling would be stupid.”

“So…you want to have a fling with Todoroki-san?”

“No!” you exclaimed. “That would be stupid too!”

“Fine!” Shinsou agreed, hands up. “I didn’t think so. But just…sometimes the things we want are what make us honest,” he said and he must have been thinking about his dream of being a hero. “And sometimes the things we want blind us to the thing next to it.”

You frowned, the profundity Shinsou had tried to create in the statement pissing you off a bit. His words were simple enough obvious even, so it almost felt like an insult for him to say them like they never would have occurred to you.

Still, you were suddenly aware of a light simmering in your body, new and uncomfortable. Unnamable. When warming a pot of water, the water might be boiling for minutes before you noticed the soft popping, the light roiling of the bubbles. But once you heard it, the sound was going to stay in your ears, urging you to action. It was telling you to dump in the noodles, pour the water over a tea bag, lower the temperature on the stove. The bubbling was the indication, but you had to be the impetus. Otherwise, all that potential would take its time bubbling away, disappearing slowly into vapors you’d never see, and, eventually, you’d be left with no water at all.

[crystalstar8]

Knights of the Night (Epilogue)

Epilogue

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9, ch 10, ch 11, ch 12, ch 13, ch 14, ch 15, ch 16, ch 17, ch 18, ch 19, ch 20, ch 21, ch 22, ch 23, epilogue 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 1,587

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France, human trafficking

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j  @daechwitad-2​ @zobadak​ @fallenstar-7​​​

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing...

                 Catalina took one last glance around her room before heading downstairs. She heard Jimin’s voice, which put a wide smile on her face. Him and Taehyung were back on time, which meant they’d be able to come with everyone that afternoon.

               She ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time, before landing in the foyer. Taehyung and Jimin were taking their shoes off and setting their bags down, chatting with Hoseok and Namjoon. Catalina threw her arms around Jimin and asked him, “How was your trip?”

               He pulled away and smiled wide, his eyes disappearing. “It was incredible. I’ll tell you all about it later.”

               “I can’t wait,” Catalina said, smiling just as wide.

               “We were gonna go to the beach later,” said Hoseok. “Do you want to go with us?”

               “Sure! I think we’ll mostly just relax, though,” said Taehyung.

               “Here, I’ll help you unpack so you can get yourselves settled before we go,” Hoseok said, following them back out the car. Catalina left the foyer and went into the kitchen. The kitchen was beautiful, so different from when she first came into this house. They had it remodeled, actually, they had a lot of the house remodeled. Everything was a bit more modern, but their antiques were mostly still around. Even Yoongi redid his bedroom, saying he didn’t want to sleep in a rat’s nest anymore. He made an incredible amount of money on the antiques in that room, the museums practically begging him to part with them.

               The light was on in the kitchen when Catalina entered, which meant Jungkook was in there. Sure enough, he was standing in front of the fridge, staring into its contents with bleary eyes. His hair was a floof on top of his head and his pajamas were rumpled. Catalina came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. She laid her head on his back and listened to the steady rhythm of his heart, something she’s become so very familiar with.

               “What will you have for breakfast?” she asked. He grunted in response, shifting some containers around on the shelf. He finally chose a container of leftovers and cracked the lid to sniff it. He sniffed it three times before deciding it was edible and dumping it on a plate. While it was heating up, he turned and opened his arms, letting Catalina settle into him.

               “Are you gonna surf today?” he asked.

               “You asked me that yesterday,” Catalina said with a giggle.

               “And you said no yesterday!” he said. She could feel his laughter in his chest where her head was resting.

               “Maybe,” she said. “I heard the teaching process is very hands on.”

               He chuckled and said, “Where did you hear that?”

               “Hm, I don’t remember,” she said. The microwave beeped and Jungkook let Catalina go so he could grab his food. She pulled a blood bag out of the fridge and sat down with him at the dining table, sipping at her drink while he ate.

               “What are you guys doing up so early?”

               Yoongi wandered into the kitchen with messy hair and tired eyes.

               “It’s beach day!” Jungkook said, much more awake now that he was eating. “You’re coming, right?”

               “No.”

               “Yoongi, you don’t have to swim or surf or anything,” said Catalina. “You can just sleep on the beach. Or drink wine on the beach. You need the fresh air, you’ve been at your piano for days. Plus, I think everyone would really like to spend some time with you.”

               “When are you going?” he asked.

               “We’re heading out around eleven,” said Catalina.

               “Oh. I’ll think about it,” Yoongi said. “Are Taehyung and Jimin back yet?”

               “Yes, they just walked in a little while ago,” said Catalina.

               “Good,” he said. “I’m glad their flight wasn’t delayed.”

               With that, he left the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

               During the drive to the beach, Catalina made sure to sit in the back of the Jeep with Jimin.

               “So, tell me about the trip,” she said, a giddy smile on her face.

               “Ah, it was perfect!” said Jimin. “I’ve never been to Arizona before so I didn’t really know what to expect about the weather or anything. It really is very dry there. The heat is like heat from an oven. And the places we saw were so beautiful. We camped in the Grand Canyon and… it was insane. The Grand Canyon is insane. Everything was so incredible. And at night, you could see the stars perfectly. When we camped in Death Valley, there was absolutely no light pollution for miles so the sky was amazing. We saw the Milky Way.”

               “Oh wow,” Catalina sighed.

               “You and Jungkook should go next summer,” said Jimin. “You’d love it.”

               “Yeah, I would do that,” said Catalina. “That sounds like a lot of fun. We need to make up for our last trip.”

               They sat in silence for a while before Jimin said, “I can’t believe we’re going to France in two weeks.”

               “I know!” said Catalina. “I can’t believe it! This is something I’ve been waiting for my entire life and I’ll finally be able to do it!”

               “Is your solo ready?” Jimin asked.

               “I mean, as ready as it’ll ever be,” said Catalina. “You know how it is.”

Her and Jimin had both taken the winter semester off to recover from their transformations and to get used to their new bodies. Catalina used that time to choreograph a solo worthy of an audition in France. By now, the beginning of summer, she had perfected it as much as she could.

“I’m going to the studio to practice it tomorrow,” said Catalina. “You should come with me. You can help, or just watch. You haven’t seen it finished yet.”

“What time? I’m babysitting tomorrow,” said Jimin.

“Oh right! You’re doing that every Tuesday now, aren’t you?” said Catalina.

Jimin nodded and said, “Yep, Caleb’s sister has dance on Tuesdays, so I’ll just be there for a few hours.”

“Are you still gonna do that when classes start? You’re signing up for classes in the fall, right?” she asked.

“Yeah, I don’t want to fall behind any more than I am,” said Jimin.

“Me too,” said Catalina. Then she smiled and grabbed Hoseok’s shoulder over the driver’s seat. “And you’re starting classes with us too, aren’t you?”

He laughed and said, “I sure am!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The weather was perfect, and according to Jungkook, the water was ideal for beginner’s surfing. They got set up on a relatively empty patch of the beach. The family closest to them had a few kids, who were building a sandcastle near the water. It was Monday, so thankfully there weren’t too many other people there. Yoongi laid out a beach blanket and immediately laid down, covering his face with his sun hat. He was almost completely covered, with long sleeves and long pants. Catalina figured he was trying to protect his pasty white skin.

               Jimmy K settled down beside Yoongi with a thick book. Catalina had assumed he would be surfing with them that day; he seemed like the type to surf. Jimin and Taehyung lathered themselves in sunscreen and took their spots near the cooler, relaxing and watching the fun just like they promised. After shedding her shorts and tank top to reveal her new white bikini, Catalina lathered herself in sunscreen, since she could already feel herself burning. Then she grabbed her board and met the others down by the water.

At some point, the family next to them left and they were left to themselves on their private stretch of beach.

Catalina, Namjoon, and Hoseok kept their eyes on Jungkook and Jin, who were teaching them the basics of how to surf. They all had boards, rented ones for the newbies, and Catalina was excited to get out on the water. With every glance at the ocean behind her, she felt nervousness twist in her stomach. She had to keep reminding herself that she wouldn’t drown and she wouldn’t get hurt. Her body was stronger than it used to be, which was something she still hadn’t completely gotten used to.

                They were standing on their boards, Jin showing them how to position their feet. Jungkook went to each of them, giving them pointers or fixing their positions. He stepped onto Catalina’s board behind her and nudged her right foot forward a bit, hands on her bare waist.

               “Just keep your knees bent and your legs spread a bit more,” he said. His bare chest was pressed up against her back.

               “…And if you guys fall off, just let the current roll you until it’s settled, then come up,” Jin was saying. “But you guys won’t drown anyway, so no harm.”

               “Right, no harm,” Jungkook said, his hand sliding down to her butt.

She giggled and turned around to face him.

“Did Hoseok get this treatment when you helped him?” she asked with a wide smile on her face.

“He would probably like that,” Jungkook said with a laugh. “But this is only reserved for my favorite students.”

“Ooh, so Namjoon got this too,” Catalina said, winding her arms over his bare shoulders. He threw his head back and laughed. This was her favorite song. The sounds of his laughter, the waves hitting the beach, The seagulls calling overhead, his heart beating in his chest.

Catalina leaned up to press her lips against his, the board wobbling in the sand beneath their feet.

She never wanted this song to end.

[frostedfaves]

Prima Ballerina

Pairing: Jake Peralta x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N is an instructor at a dance academy and Jake is a detective who really wants a date with her. 

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: none

-

"Charles, we're taking ballet lessons!" Jake shouted gleefully as he entered the bullpen.

Charles let out a squeal high enough to break glass. "Yippie kayak, other buckets!" He suddenly stopped mid celebratory dance. "Wait, you said you would never do ballet with me as long as you live." He gasped. "Are we dead?!"

"No, Charles, but we are about to meet an angel." He looked around to see everyone giving him confused glances. "Oh right, you guys don't know the backstory behind this."

Gina stood up suddenly, walking over to throw an arm around Jake's shoulders. "What this poor boy-man is trying to say is that he's only doing this to get a date with my friend."

"Very gorgeous friend," Jake added.

"Fine, very gorgeous friend who is way out of his league."

"So what you're saying is there's at least a 99% chance of this not working?" Amy questioned with a smirk.

"This is going to work so well that I'm willing to bet on it!" Jake challenged with his head held high as Rosa walked over from Terry's desk.

"I'm in. Hundred bucks says this won't work. I'm very confident that seeing you in a leotard and tights is gonna be a huge turn-off for her." She let out a tiny snort-laugh as she went for a sip from her mug.

"You're on!" He shook her hand firmly. "And when you lose I'm gonna use that money to buy her some really nice flowers to take home and remember me by when we're not out on the best dates ever!"

"Whatever, weirdo." Rosa stalked off again and Jake turned to Charles.

"Okay so we're gonna need to stop at a store. I just realized I don't own a leotard and tights."

"Don't worry, Jakey! I got ya covered!" Charles beamed. "Boyle men have tons of pairs of tights on hand because our legs--"

"Nope, store!"

Jake walked into the room with Charles at his side, his grin falling and being replaced by what can only be described as awe. He watched with shining eyes as his new ballet instructor turned in precise circles across the room, each foot perfectly pointed. He held his breath unknowingly as she straightened out her leg as her spinning slowed and brought it to the floor as she stopped, finally letting her feet rest on the ground. His eyes drifted from her perfectly crafted bun down to the rest of her body and back up to her eyes as she faced them.

"Hi there! I'm Jake Peralta and this is my buddy Charles Boyle. You probably remember me as the guy who forgot how sentences work when you were talking to Gina in the coffee shop the other day," he recalled with a sort of goofy grin.

Y/N studied both of them, face void of expression until her eyes went back to Jake's and he couldn't help but notice her vicious glare. "You're late. You have five minutes to dress before I change my mind and go home." Jake and Charles ran to the dressing room she directed them to with her thumb.

When they returned to the dance floor, she instructed them through a series of stretches to loosen their muscles before bringing them to a stand again.

"Follow my lead." She closed her legs completely and touched her heels together, turning her feet in different directions and positioning her arms. "First position." She waited until they had it perfected before moving her legs so that her feet were now far apart and still pointed in opposite directions, spreading her arms out as well. "Second position."

Jake froze when he noticed her head tilt as she observed him, slightly frowning. He tried to fight off a panic sweat as she approached him and grabbed his arms, fearing she'd either break them off or get too close and hear just how loud his heart was beating. Finally, he relaxed a bit when all she did was slightly adjust his form.

"Your arms should be slightly rounded and just ahead of your peripheral," she commented before turning to give Charles an approving nod and going back to her original spot.

Jake found himself tensing again as Y/N approached him once more after demonstrating fourth position. "Your footing is perfect but your arms are stiff in all the wrong places." She adjusted him once more and pulled back with a small smirk. "Don't be so nervous, Peralta. I only bite if you don't listen to me." He could feel another grin forming as he watched her walk away again.

Jake walked out of the dressing room behind Charles after a long half hour of trying to perfect his pas de chat. He stopped at the doorway, throwing on his jacket as he waited for Y/N to appear from the opposite changing room. It was well past sunset by the time they finished class, and Jake had formed a nice pattern of sending Charles to wait in his car while he walked Y/N to hers.

His eyes widened as he watched her walk out for the first time ever with her hair free from her bun, pulling her arms into a leather jacket that covered her knee-length dress. When she was close enough to notice the staring, he averted his gaze and cleared his throat.

"You look really nice." He looked up and was even more surprised to see the soft smile that graced her features.

"Thanks. You asked me if I wanted to get dinner with you earlier, and I had to transform from Madame L/N back to Y/N because I have a strict rule of not dating my students. I hope you still like me when I'm not intimidating you to work harder with your grand battement," she commented as she shifted from one foot to the other.

"Of course I do," he replied, his cheeks reddening when he noticed her smile grow. "I'm just a little shocked because you didn't even look at me when I asked you."

She came over and wrapped her arm around the one he extended for her. "I may like you but I'm not gonna get all soft with you either." She gave him a playful nudge in the ribs as they walked out and he laughed.

After dinner, Y/N drove them down to the nearest beach, parking as close to the water as possible before they got out of the car and sat on the hood together. They watched the reflection of the moonlight bob along with the waves for a few minutes until Y/N broke the silence.

"Hey Jake?" He gave a hum of recognition as he turned to meet her gaze. "Honest answer. You only signed up for lessons with me because you wanted to go out with me, right?"

"Yeah," he breathed out amidst a nervous chuckle, hoping he hadn't ruined what he thought to be a perfect night.

"So why did you bring Charles? Why not take the lessons alone?"

"Still doing honest answers?" She nodded. "Well to be honest your beauty and talent both amaze and terrify me. I was too nervous to even try to flirt with you in our first class because I was afraid you'd think I wasn't taking your work seriously. Or that you'd break my arms off and feed them to me, but, you know." A soft laugh fell from her lips, bringing a wide and toothless smile to his as he continued.

"Also Charles is my best friend and between his pep talks on the way here and a little bit of faith, I finally convinced myself that maybe a girl as cool as you could actually like me too. Which is why I finally asked you out after three weeks of sore muscles and nearly crapping my pants every time you approached me in class."

Y/N found herself running a hand along his jawline as she looked into his eyes, almost in disbelief that a man this handsome could be so insecure about dating her. "Well if we're still being honest, I was a little nervous when I first met you, too."

"What? You barely acknowledged me in that coffee shop." She gave him a look and his eyes widened in realization for a second, quickly lowering as his lips shifted into a smirk. "Well who knew that the world-famous, tough-as-nails Ms. Y/N L/N could get nervous around widdle ol me!" He mocked and she rolled her eyes, moving her grip to the top of his jacket.

"Just shut up and kiss me," she mumbled as she pulled him in and met him in the middle, unlocking the door to pure paradise as their lips collided, melting together perfectly and interrupted only by some eagerly added tongue. Arms were introduced and wrapped around, holding each other in place even after they parted to breathe in much needed air.

"I think my heart just did a plié," Jake joked and Y/N laughed again as she sent a light hand against his chest. He pulled her in completely against him and leaned back against the windshield as she curled an arm around his waist and counted the stars, Jake looking beyond the stars and into the universe for whomever he should thank for allowing this ballerina to leap into his life.

[alwayshaveneverholdd]

★ 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓊𝓈𝓉 || 𝒞𝒽𝑜𝒾 𝒮𝒶𝓃 ★

★ 𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: ballet dancer!san x female!reader

★ 𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮: romance, angst, some shitty comedy

★ 𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: sexy times (but not too sexy), cringey romance

★ 𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 2.7k

★ 𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓪 𝓫𝔂: @starsforten​

★𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓕𝓲𝓿𝓮★

Byeol became an even closer friend than San at some point. A few weeks after the party, you were sitting on San’s bed up against his headboard with the Siamese feline curled up next to you. Her back was facing away toward the foot of the bed and her head was lying delicately against your clothed thigh. Her eyes, blue and bright, were closed as you stroked her side. The white-and-gray fur atop her head stood out against the black material of your leggings, a contrast you never would have thought you’d be looking at. In an instant, you turned your attention to her belly fur, scratching the softness of it and knowingly setting off Byeol’s play-fight instincts. She brought her hind legs up first, pushing your hand away with those before placing her forepaws on your fingers and unsheathing her claws just enough to try to scare you. But you just smiled, moving her hind legs back and forth with your hand.

Then you heard a scoff from the door, drawing your attention to it. San had come back from helping his mom reach a pot from a shelf and was now standing against his closed door, watching you two with a smirk. “내가 경쟁자가 있는 것 같군, 응?” Looks like I’ve got some competition, huh?

Your face heated up faster than if it had been lit with a torch. With a scoff of your own, you moved your eyes back to Byeol and kept annoying her, so much that she gave a small Mmrrrow and rolled away from your touch. She stalked to the edge of the bed and jumped down gracefully, making her way over to San so she could rub against his legs.

“아니,” Nope, he cheeped, bending down to scratch her behind the ears. “우리 별이가 제일 사랑 사람은 나야.” Byeol still loves me the most.

His lip had fully healed, not even the remnants of a wound left on the soft pink skin. You had been, admittedly, staring at them all the while. You wondered when he was finally going to kiss you and end your misery. You wanted to taste him, to know what he felt like. All those weeks of dates and teasing and finally something could be done but nothing had been. You were disappointed but mostly impatient. You swore you’d kiss him first if he wasn’t going to take the leap soon.

San closed the door as he fully stepped into the room, letting Byeol out as he did so. Once trapped, you subconsciously scooted back against the headboard and it made a little click sound as it hit the seafoam wall behind it. San smirked, a small laugh leaving his lips in breathy huffs. “Pfft.” Red hot embarrassment forced one of your hands up to push a piece of hair behind your ear as you averted your gaze. Between muttering things to yourself, you asked San how his family managed to paint the walls of their apartment without getting kicked out.

“우리는 이 집을 소유하고 있다,” We own it, is all he said.

Before you could verbalize a response, he drew closer to the bed, one of his hands trailing along the old sky-blue comforter as if he was just feeling the beat-up fleece for the first time. It was a peaceful blanket, comparable to an old piece of art. Fluffy clouds with shading and depth floated all over the sky. You thought of Studio Ghibli every time you saw San’s comforter. But this time you were only drawn to him. His gaze was on the design, and you could see his deep eyes through his lashes.

You didn’t realize you were staring until he caught you, looking up to return your gaze. Almost like a reflex, you looked away again, convinced you were a nonchalant master. But San knew you too well, didn’t he? “넌 항상 그렇게 해,” You always do that, he mumbled, sitting down beside you.

“음? 뭐?” Hm? What?

He pushed himself up against the headboard as well, only a few inches apart from you now as you sat side-by-side. “너는 내가 너를 볼 때 항상 외면해.” You always look away when I look at you.

You sighed. Of course, he was right—there you were, thinking about how annoying it was that he hadn’t kissed you yet, but you couldn’t even maintain eye contact. Hypocrite. “미안. 무섭다.” Sorry. It’s just scary.

“에? 뭐? 뭐 무서워?” Huh? What is? What’s scary? His eyebrows drew in as he turned toward you now, seemingly determined to get an answer.

Fearing you’d concerned him, you laughed. “아—아니, 아니야. 그런 뜻이 아니었어.” No—no, nothing. I didn’t mean it like that.

“하지만 네가 뭔가가 무섭다고 했잖아. 뭐야? 나에 대한 너의 감정?” But you said something is scary—what is it? Your feelings for me?

The walls began to close in on you two, but you couldn’t shut your mouth, not now. If you had, it would’ve been over. You always had the last word—you had to, especially with San. “아니! 아니라고!” No! I said nothing! You yelled, completely blocking out what he had said. You were sure you’d made it up, anyway. “그래! 좋아해! 그래서? 안 무서워!” Okay! I like you! So? I’m not scared!

San only stared at you as you went on, a smile growing on his face. “자쯩나 진짜! 너…너 일에나 신경써야 한다. 차, 가끔은 널—!” You’re so annoying! You…you should mind your own business. God, sometimes I just want to—!

The feeling of San’s warm lips moving against your own stopped your speech. You still hummed into his mouth for a moment, as you had the entire sentence planned out. It was a bit aggressive at first, like he had made the decision on a whim, and it took a few moments for you both to realize what was happening. Your stomach fell in the most pathetically beautiful way, never straying from the sensation of being at the top of a rollercoaster.

There’s something so artistic about improvised kisses. You were convinced that nothing tasted sweeter than him, nothing felt more like breathing—so natural—than kissing San like this. He moved one delicate hand up to cup your cheek and you leaned into him with need, letting one of your fingers trail down from his jaw to his neck, stopping to fist at the hem of his muscle-shirt. It was soft, the way he sucked on your bottom lip and then your top one, switching back and forth like he couldn’t decide which one he liked better. The only difference between breathing and kissing San was that, unlike breathing, this wasn’t something you could ignore. It wasn’t something that fell in the back of your mind and you could do without realizing. It just felt right, like you couldn’t go on without it.

You imagined that this is what it felt like—those rare stories of people that were born blind or deaf, but technology gave them the gift of sight or sound. You were wandering aimlessly until you met San. You were asleep until you felt him this way, sharing thoughts through the syncing of your body’s rhythms. You had heard something before—To live is to fall asleep, to die is to awake. Death had never felt so lively.

San broke the connection for a moment, probably to catch his breath. He looked at you through a gaze that you thought was lusty at first, but then he smiled, and between each of your heavy breaths that mingled where they met half-way between you two, you knew. You smiled back, moving your finger to trace a heart on the skin of his bottom lip. His smile grew, and he brought his other hand up to the other side of your face. His thumbs, slightly calloused, stroked your skin back and forth. His gaze reached deep into your own, only adding to the irregular nature of your heartbeat.

“마지막으로,” Finally, you muttered, somewhat into his mouth as he dove in once more. This time, you impatiently swiped at his lips with your tongue, red-hot embarrassment crawling up the back of your neck when he snickered through the kiss before granting you access.

“산아! 나와라, 음식이 준비됐다!” San! Come out, the food’s ready!

At the sound of his mother’s sing-song voice, you two practically jumped away from each other with San almost completely rolling off the bed and you knocking his lamp onto the ground. It fell all too quickly and landed with a crash as the somewhat translucent-blue blown glass shattered on the floor. The glass flew across the room, decorating the dark wood with its shiny pieces.

Wide-eyed, you turned to San with a whispered, “오모—어떻게?” Oh my God—what do we do?

At the same moment, his mother called, “다 괜찮아?” Is everything okay?

“어 엄마!” Yeah, mom! he yelled, quickly getting to his feet and looking around the room like he was searching for something. “금방 나갈게!” Be out in a minute!

You ended up having to get the dustpan from the kitchen after eating, and San’s mom only laughed when she discovered the reason (well, half of the reason) why you and San had acted so stiff and awkward during dinner. You apologized about a million times, but nobody was sour over the lamp’s passing.

San walked you home afterward, even though that included taking two buses. The trek was long and mostly silent, but you were grateful. You were still trying to process the night’s events, and it wasn’t uncomfortable to walk alongside him in silence. At one point, San reached over and took your hand in his own. When you looked over at him, he was staring up, above the buildings in the distance with a small smile on his face. You followed his gaze, reminded of an acoustic guitar piece when you saw the orange glow of central Seoul’s lights and pollution that sat just above the horizon. Stars were few and far between as you drew closer to the city, but it was still perfect. You laced your fingers with San’s, taking note of how sweaty his palms had grown in a short amount of time.

When you reached your apartment, you silently wished that you had lived in a more secluded area. But, no, the street noise was deafening, people strode to and fro on the street around you two, and the clerk from the convenience store across the street gave a wave that you could barely see between the passing of cars. You and San had stopped in front of the high-rise building, and his expression fell.

You said, “위층으로 올라올래?” Do you want to come up?

That fixed him because he broke into a grin and nodded. On the way up, he started talking about a group of children that had come to tour the school he was taking classes at, and how this one little chubby boy took a liking to him and kept calling him “Haengnim”. His eyes sparkled with adoration whenever he spoke of children. You silently wondered if he was trying to hint at a shared future and whether or not you wanted kids. An immature thought, but you were technically still a kid. Nineteen-year-olds still have foolish and premature thoughts when it comes to dating.

In front of your door, you stopped and turned to face him. You took both of his hands now, staring into his eyes—you wanted to know what he was thinking. Seemingly reading your mind, he smirked, then leaned down to press his slightly chapped lips to your own. You wet his lips with your tongue, something that made him grab onto your waist a bit strongly, and kiss you with more passion. Consciously or not, San deepened the kiss until you were full-on making out in the hallway. He backed you up against the wall beside your door, and fear overrode any heat invading your body from the way he touched and kissed you. If your mother had come out and seen you two, you would have died. Sure, you were an adult and everything, but it was just weird.

You pulled away, San stealing a few more kisses before you both fully stopped. He just smiled again, moving a piece of hair out of your face. “우리 첫날, 맞이?” This is our first day, right?

“뭐야,” What the, you teased. “우리 몇 주째 사귀는 줄 알았는데,” I thought we’ve been dating for a few weeks.

“근데 지금 나의 여친이야.” But now you’re my girlfriend.

“와, 나한테 물어보지도 않았구나.” Wow, you didn’t even ask me.

“내가 해야 하나?” Do I have to?

“정말 좋겠다.” It would be nice.

“알았어. 제 여자친구가—” Fine. Will you—

“아니. 너무 늦었군아.” Nope. Too late. 

San rolled his eyes, his smile never leaving. “문제아.” Brat.

“울어.” Cry about it.

San went in for a few last pecks before taking a step back, letting go of you. “내일 만날까?” See you tomorrow?

There was something so calm about the way he hung back, cool and unbothered as if you hadn’t kissed for the first time and then borderline went to second base in an apartment building hallway. You bid him farewell, trying to shake off the nerves tugging at your sleeve. He didn’t leave right away, though. He waited for you to go inside, watching you with a small smile and waving goodbye.

The next five months were more like a dream than reality. It was almost disgusting, the way you two paraded around with your affections toward each other. San loved to show you off, though. Friday nights were for getting as dressed up as possible and going to an expensive restaurant that changed each week. Saturdays turned into brunch days that you two attended in sweats and pajamas, both smiling and giddy messes after a night of unbridled lovemaking.

And you loved him.

Oh, how you loved Choi San. You loved the way he looked at you, always staring into your eyes for unnecessarily long amounts of time to see if you could hold his gaze. You loved the way he took the time to see into your heart and soul, acknowledging true intimacy that went past seeing you without clothes. You loved the way he held you when you cried. You loved the way he pulled you into hugs, resting his head on your shoulder when he was upset. You loved knowing that he loved you, too. He didn’t say it often, but you could tell in the moments you caught him staring at you with wonder while you were doing the most mundane things. You could tell when he traced the words “I love you” on your body with his tongue during intimate moments. Besides all that, Yunho was such a shit when it came to hanging out all together. If you hadn’t paid attention to San’s mannerisms, you would still know his feelings for you because of how obvious his friends made it.

Being young and blinded by love and great sex, you thought that it might actually last forever. The way San talked sometimes, it seemed like the sound of wedding bells were carrying you both on the winds of life to a future together.

Then, one day in early August, your phone buzzed urgently in your purse while you were out with a friend. It was San calling. He asked you to meet, but his voice was a bit unstable like he’d been crying. You agreed, but your stomach soured. He sounded off, and he felt off, too. Static overtook every other sound for a moment. You weren’t sure what was happening, but it seemed too abrupt. Things were great. Sure, you had quarrels and events happened in each of your lives that you had to get through, but you leaned on each other for support. This felt different, though. You didn’t think he wanted to lean on you, but rather, ask you if he should save you or himself from falling to an untimely demise. It was a premature thought, but you weren’t too far-off.

Masterlist

[razorblade180]

Light Sparring

Vacou, early morning. The sun had barely started to rise and the heat hadn't attacked the desert sands yet; the perfect time for some light sparring for Carmine. The sixteen year old stood with her hands stretched up high about thirty feet away from her home. In front of her, Jaune, her very tired father. The man yawned loudly as his daughter patiently waited for him to loosen up. “I take it, you are ready?” He said.

“Yep!” She grabbed her sword, holding it with both hands directly in front of her. “Just waiting on you. Come at me whenever.”

“Pretty sure that’s my line. Remember the rules, there aren’t any. Just come at me with the intent to kill.” Yep, just another day of training. Time to get things started. Jaune was still mid stretch as Carmine began running at him. The seasoned huntsman sidestepped to the left, avoiding a downward slash. The blade then swung at his ankles and missed when Jaune leapt over it. He watched Carmine pull Stamen back before thrusting it towards his chest. Jaune took another sidestep and placed his hand on Crocea Mor’s hilt.

“Uh oh.”Carmine gasped, flipping backwards several feet. She took off in a mad dash around Jaune as he drew his blade. Carmine could feel herself getting excited. She’s never bested her father, or any of the heroes of Remnant. She was good, but not that good. Plenty of experience has really progressed her skills to an insane degree; today, she was feeling pretty damn good about her efforts.

“You scared!?” Jaune smiled. Carmine laughed, “Ha! Of a cereal endorser? Not a chance!” Carmine sent an aura slash right in his direction. Jaune countered with his own, making a sand cloud form for Carmine to jump out of; in an effort to leave Jaune open. The strategy was pointless. Her sword clashed with his perfectly, shaking the ground below them. Right, lefty, upward, downward; the blades would meet each other before their users. The constant back and forth made sparks fly around them. It was almost rhythmic, with Carmine leading their waltz with Jaune defending flawlessly. Jaune could feel the weight behind each attack. The shifting flow of the curved blade as his daughter spun and twirled to keep a steady momentum while making it tricky to land a direct blow.

Carmine went for a right slash mid twirl. She watched carefully to see her old man ready to counter. “Now’s my chance.” Carmine thought. She leaned into the swing more until her blade was centimeters away, then whipped her body in the opposite direction. She made contact with Jaune right side, sending him sliding back from the ballpark swing. “Keep the pressure going. Keep him guessing!” Carmine flung her sword overhead and sped off after him. Jaune could only see a flash of red like a lens flare, his daughter zigzagging towards him. Ruby would’ve been proud.

Jaune brought his shield out and raised it to protect his chest. “She’s either gonna be tempted to flank me now, or…” He watched Carmine go into a cartwheel when she closed the distance. Her feet slammed against his shield and she bounced off it like a springboard, grabbing Stamen as she flew past it. Jaune readied himself to go on the offensive until the sound of gunshots made him put his shield back up to block slug shots. He peeked from behind it to see Carmine pointing her tactical baton, Pistil, aimed right at him. Fresh smoke coming out of the barrel before another round was shot into the air to send her back to the sand. Another was shot behind her so the recoil could send Carmine right back into close combat.

The beginning of a fight was vital. Carmine knew she couldn’t let Jaune do as he pleased. In a contest of aura, he had her beat. She had to chip away at it while remaining as unharmed as possible. Jaune knew this. That’s why neither of them used their semblances yet. A deficit between their aura consumption could change things. Carmine had it rough though. Not only did she have to remain aggressive to control the flow, but Jaune had to stay close or he could easily start regenerating his. Stamina consumption was all on her.

Jaune’s sword clashed with Carmine’s in another flurry of swings while his shield arm was busy blocking the attacks from Pistil. He ducked a slash then jumped another leg swipe. Carmine made a complete 360 with her left scraping the ground, flinging sand his way. “Agh!” Jaune was forced to squint and raised his shield higher but quickly regretted it when Carmine shot his right thigh, making him buckle.

“Now…” Carmine went to slash his other leg but Jaune was too quick. He raised his foot just enough to wedge the blade between it and the ground. Carmine abandoned the blade all together in less than a second. Another gunshot sent her set up a shoulder bash that pressed his shield against his chest, knocking Jaune completely off balance by the sudden force. If she wanted to win then she had to get a little brolic with her old man. Carmine was only an inch shorter than Jaune and rock solid. She gave him a quick headbutt to put more of a lean on his body then struck the underside of his chin with a right jab. Jaune started falling backwards but not before swinging his sword at her exposed midriff, forcing her to dodge backwards. It barely grazed her, but she wasn’t expecting another aura slash to come off of it and send her flying away until she landed right on her back. “Damn! Got careless!”

Carmine jumped off but wasn’t ready to see Jaune right in front of her. There was no time to react to the slash that struck across her body diagonal, then went up in the same reaction. Carmine tried swinging Pistil but Jaune grabbed her by the rest.

“Too slow-” Jaune also got careless. He forgot just how scrappy his own daughter was. He didn’t even get to finish speaking before Carmine jumped straight up with his hand still on her. She grabbed his arms and pulled herself forward, wrapping her legs around his neck tightly. Jaune raised his sword to strike her back but Carmine flung her weight to shift everything on the leg she had just shot.The sudden change sent them both to the ground hard. Jaune landed on his shield while Carmine had already gotten up and took his sword that had slipped out of his hand. He instantly rolled away, letting out a sigh of relief as he saw Carmine stabbing the ground where he was. “Now I know I said with the intent to kill…”

Carmine was already smacking tempered steel against his shield and armor again. She might as well have been a cat on a scratching post. Crocea Mor was lighter than Stamen by a wide margin. Combined with the swings of Pistil, Jaune couldn’t block all the attacks. Every third strike or so manages to graze him or hit his armor. It wasn’t heavy damage by any means, but every bit helps. The relentless assault was starting to wind her unfortunately. “Come on!” She shouted, “Just one good hit!” Carmine took Pistil and wrapped her left arm around her waist, having the gone pointed horizontally behind her and sligh pointing forward on the other side of hip. One gunshot sent the girl spinning like a top. Each rotation brought the sword buzz sawing against Jaune’s shield. Sparks flew out like full blown fireworks.

“Paying for ballet lessons was worth every penny.” Jaune thought to himself. It was not about to make him lose though. Jaune tilted his shield up to direct the blade slice at an angle. This gave him room to kick Carmine, hard. She spun out, but what came next was unexpected and terrifying. Jaune was going to follow up with a bash but his daughter turned into petals instead of falling. He bested a clone. “When did- the fall we took!”

A long, curved black blade shot out from over his right shoulder and was coming backwards to give the definition of a close shave. Jaune put his hand up and let it catch the blade instead of his neck. White aura flowed through the hand to negate any damage as he gripped it. Jaune flung the rest of the scythe in front of him with Carmine holding on to the end. Carmine smiled, “cool as always.” The bottom half of the scythe detached to revert back into Pistil. She had another clear shot, time to play mind games. Jaune’s shield followed it to block his leg from another bullet. Too bad that was a faint. Carmine kept her arm moving in that direction but bent her wrist to aim for his face. “This won’t tickle…” the slug hit him right in his face, craning his head back. She saw his aura flicker from that hit. Anybody would take massive damage from a thing like that, except Jaune and Yang. Her aunt would’ve just been pissed and melted the bullet. Her father? He put his head down and his body became enveloped in total white. Jaune held the bullet in between his teeth and smirked as he spat it out. Yep, cool as always. Carmine had no response to him chucking her sword at her at insane speed. She managed to grab it but not before the tip stabbed her abruptly.

Sweat started forming on her brow. Dealing with Jaune with his semblance activated usually spelled the end, usually. Carmine transformed her weapons back into Rosebud while Jaune made his great sword by adding his shield to his sword. He watched Carmine slowly back up, her red aura outlining her body. Their eyes were locked onto each other’s every movement. It was time for the fun part.

“You’re improving leaps and bounds.” Jaune praised her. “All of your mixups are keeping me on my toes.”

“Then prepare to dance…”

“I’d love to.” Those were his words before Carmine saw only a ball of light dashing everywhere around the desert. Turning a support semblance into an all around boost to himself was the kind of out of the box thinking that proved to Carmine how she shares more than hair color with her father. If it wasn’t for Ruby, Carmine couldn’t imagine keeping up with such movement; but Jaune’s speed was not on that level. He was fast, not near instantaneous. Carmine felt his presence close in from the right, before going around to the front. Carmine raised Rosebud up and slammed it hard on the sand. The force pushed out a shockwave that made a massive dust cloud. The two clashed inside of it, the visibility only good a few feet ahead of them.

Each swing Jaune did disturbed the sand and his speed would mean sand would defend get in his way, but the stinging was relieved by his aura constantly. That wasn’t an issue; Carmine’s rapidly spinning scythe was! It was hard to tell the exact length like this. The girl embodied the grace of her mother as Rosebud swung constantly. The weapon went around her arm before Carmine popped it up with a flex, continuing to spin as it went around her neck and down to her hips like a lethal hula hoop that still countered another sword swing. Carmine raised her knee to bop it up. The poll hooked around her leg once before she grabbed it with her hands again swiped Jaune away. On the way down, the tip lined up with his back step and she shot him in the chest.

From the outside of the cloud, the only thing visible was the flash from the gunshot and Jaune’s shining body moving sporadically. A real testament to just how much the two were moving was the constant shifting sands. Stray aura slashes of red and white flew out, carving the ground. Ruby, who had been watching from the porch, was enjoying the spectacle. However… “When will they learn that thirty feet is still too close to the house!” She said, bouncing her four year old son on her knee as he was still sleeping. A few gunshots woke him up early but quickly meant nothing to the boy’s drive to sleep.

Jaune wishes he was sleeping right now. If there was one thing consistent about training with Carmine was she was unpredictable. He wasn’t that tired but all the overwhelming back and forth was keeping him on edge. He’d been in a world of pain if he slipped up. This sandstorm had to go. Jaune gripped his blade until his knuckles turned white, swinging it with enough force to blow the storm away along with Carmine. He could barely see her get swept away like a tumbleweed. He couldn’t rest though, not by a long shot. That storm served two purposes apparently. Disguising weapon length, and the flowers made around him; four red and six yellow.

The yellow ones bursted first. Six Carmine’s with pure blonde hair and yellow eyes were armed and ready. Jaune gulped, immediately retreating at high speed. “Yellow means…” The sudden sound of electricity made him jump in the air. Six currents of voltage danced around him in an energetic chase. The moment one got near, it formed back into a clone to attack before having to catch up again. Two branched off towards the original to form a ring around her and the four identical clones.

“I don’t care how much stamina you have. It has to run out.” Carmine said, catching her breath. Her clones were made hastily. The distribution of aura was completely off and the attacks Jaune landed earlier didn’t help. Her aura had to be at least 40% by now. She knew Jaune would stop the moment it would drop below ten. “Alright me, let’s get to work!”

“Leave it to us!” The clones shouted. Two regular clones were picked up by the lightning ones, then rushed towards Jaune. The man had been running in a straight line in order to keep his pursuers roughly in one spot. He let them get closer and closer before suddenly stopping as they formed two weren’t ready to stop and got close lined. Jaune immediately destroyed one wby stabbing it. He grabbed the other one by the leg then threw it at a third. Grabbing his sword would take too much time so he opted for the Xiao Long approach, axe kicking the two tangled clones hard enough to burst. The fourth went to rush him with her scythe, but Jaune was ready to catch it, pitting it in a struggle of strength it was quickly losing. The clone tried her best to push back but he wasn’t budging.

“Gah! Come one, not even an inch!?” It cried out!

Jaune chuckled, “Arm wrestle your aunt and god mom, then try pushing me like this.” Nora and Yang had groomed an absolute wall. Jaune was not losing like this. Carmine grunted . “I’ll put it on the to do list! But for now….” The two other lightning clones caught up and formed a triangle around him. “Bye!” All three exploded simultaneously. Intense currents of electricity went through Jaune, stunning him as he dropped his weapons. He was left at the mercy of the other two regular clones descending from above.

One carried two swords while the other had the batons. Jaune could only stand still as the dual swords came straight down him and proceeded to give him a series of slashes. One after another cut through the amplified aura until it flew dimmer, a good sign that he was returning to normal. However, the attacks knocked the feeling back into his body. Jaune grabbed a cross slash then was immediately shot in the back. He winced in agitation. “She’s really covered all her bases!”

The dual wielder broke free and drove her knee upward to his chin. It brought the swords back down on top of Jaune’s shoulders. Jaune returned the headbutt from early with five times the amount of force, but the clone remained. It was only after grabbing it to use it as a bullet shield did it fade away. The other doomed followed with a sudden low tackle that Jaune used to scoop up the clone and slammed it right into the ground, hard enough to make it tremble. Finally, he could breathe. “Thank the gods, that was hell!” He said to himself, while retrieving his sword. Now he was getting tired. The fact that Nora could get shocked by lightning and smile about it became that much more terrifying. Nothing about that experience was nice! It downright sucked! He looked across the sand dunes. Carmine had been busy. He saw what he assumed to be his daughter, two clones with the same weapon setup that he just beat, ten blazing red roses on the ground by their feet, a light green eyed clone with matching tips to the far left, and a light blue eyed clone to the far right. Clearly a plan had been set into motion yet again, but what? Carmine was a girl who had her bases covered. That’s why she was so amazing, beating her meant you were simply better; something he was by a long shot, but apples tend not to fall far from trees. Underestimating his own flesh and blood would be stupid.

“Standing here means I can let my aura charge, but she’s obviously doing the same thing. More clones mean more ideas, more possibilities. It would be a drawn out battle to say the least.” Jaune groaned at that idea. He's in tip top shape, but teenagers are way too scrappy for their own good. Food fights and adventure taught him that. “Guess that only leaves one option, overwhelming force!” The man took off at high speed. From Carmine’s perspective, all she saw was a trail sand shooting high into the air like a geyser. Quickly getting closer.

All the active Carmines ready themselves. “Bring it on. Where are you headed!?” Jaune got closer and closer to the center until he darted off towards the blue clone. She gasped, startled by the approaching threat. The sight of her father’s sword coming for her face made her duck. The clone reached into her pocket and pulled out a hidden blazing rose.

“What!?” Jaune gasped.

“No matter the direction, the plan remained unchanged…” The blazing rose exploded into flames, taking out the clone and knocking back Jaune. The very ground beneath turned into heated glass. From behind, ten other blazing roses had turned into scarlet red haired versions of Carmine. All ten ran around Jaune in an instant, including an extra one that the green one had. The clones exploded as well to create an even bigger explosion that added more glass and did damage.

In the middle, Carmine herself pulled out a vile of fine grained ice dust. She placed it between her palms to form an ice blue rose that burst into another light blue version of herself. “You know what to do.” Carmine said, dropping to her knees exhausted.

“Ma’am!” The clone said, taking off towards the glass. It showed no fear in sliding across it, chilling the material before reaching Jaune to explode,trapping his feet in ice.

Jaune was completely thrown for a loop. She’s never gotten this elaborate before. He broke out of the ice easily but the two regular clones were already on top of him, coming from above. Jaune went back to using his shield to block the rain of bullets headed his way, but each one missed. On purpose. The target was breaking the glass, the second accomplished that by striking his shield from above with both blades. The impact shattered all of it nice and easily. “Cover your eyes tight.” The clone said, actual concern was present in its voice before both of the clones exploded into petals. The shockwave knocked the shattered glass into the air, along with his shield. Jaune got a good look at the green clone closing the distance.

“Oh…” was all Jaune could say before covering his eyes tightly. He understood the warning. The sound of the clone exploding was faint, but the massive gust of wind sounded like a train. The wind pushed and swirled the shards of glass around Jaune. Each piece scratched and stabbed him again and again like a thousand cuts that finally shredded his aura far passed returning him to his normal fighting state. The assault lasted for a couple of minutes until the wind started to go down.

Carmine waited patiently for her moment to strike, when the wind stopped, it would be game over for him. That’s what she thought anyways. The gust had made a small cyclone of glass like she wanted, but it also swirled sand into the mix. Carmine had expected Jaune to be standing there with his eyes still covered, but he wasn’t. Jaune was gone entirely. He had used the sand cyclone to slip away. “What!?” Carmine looked around frantically. “How did- Where did he go!?”

“Behind you…” Jaune whispered. Carmine only turned around to receive a punch right in her gut. The air in her escaped in the form of a heavy cough as she hunched over in pain. Her began to flicker before it finally broke.

Jaune let out a sigh and bent down to comfort her. “Match over. Good j-aaaah!” He screamed as the ground beneath his feet sank until he was buried up to his ribs. “What!?” he shouted. Carmine let out a pained laugh as she fell down by him. Her amused laugh trailed off as she passed out. He really did knock the wind out of her. Another patch of sand moved, rising from the ground. It was another clone. One with brown dyed tips and brown eyes. She held her Scythe comfortably before putting the blade around Jaune’s neck. He couldn’t believe this insanity. “When did you make the earth clone!?”

“I’ve been hiding since the time the real me put you in that leg lock and flung you the ground. She made a clone that fought you while she ran to grab Stamen, then made me while you were still distracted.” The earth clone explained. “You have got to keep a better eye on me. I’ll pull a fast one the moment you aren’t looking. Not that it matters.”

She swung her scythe without holding back. The blade definitely hurt Jaune’s neck but it also broke, turning into brown petals. “I was made with basically nothing and you knocked me out. I could grab the real weapons but I’m guessing you still have aura to spare.”

“Yeah if I had to guess I’d say about 45, maybe 50 percent.” Jaune said as he wiggled out of his sand prison to get on his feet.

The clone let out a long sigh, “Of course, why wouldn’t you still have half a tank? If I had a bit more time and control I could’ve made another 23 clones no problem on top of 27 I already did.”

Jaune didn’t want to think about fighting that many clones. He picked up his real daughter and stared at her tattoo of the Arc crest right above the left side of her waist. “I’m surprised you didn’t use this.”

“It’s a pain to have it on cool down and training isn’t life or death. Even if the intent was to try and kill you. Speaking of which…”

“I didn’t mean to punch you that hard.” He laughed nervously, “Ruby might have a fit about this.”

“I’m fine. Tell her I was tired. Get ready for next time! One of these days I’m beating you and mom. That’ll be the day I’ll use every hat trick in the book. Making glass is just the start.”

“You knew how to make glass but you can’t get above a C in science?”

The clone started to fade away. “What? I can’t hear you, I’m out cold. Byyyyyeeee…..” Jaune only shook his head as the clone completely turned into petals and was carried by the wind.

“Well then, let’s get you safe and sound on the-” He lost his train of thought the moment Ruby appeared in front of him. “.......”

Ruby put her hands on her hips. “I know that silence. It’s the silence you do whenever you wanna fib, but you love me and think you should come clean.”

“I...I uh, hit her a little harder than I meant to”

“I saw that.” Ruby took Carmine, carrying her daughter like a piggyback ride. “She’ll probably wake up hungry, frustrated, and thinking it was cool.”

“Yeah, she is your beautiful kid after all.” Jaune said, smiling to ease any wrath that could happen. Ruby gave him that classic “you’re a dork” look and gave him a peck on the lips.

“She’s our beautiful kid, and now she’s gonna miss breakfast thanks to this. I don’t cook eggs for them to get cold, you know!?”

“Hehe, I will make her fresh ones when she wakes up.”

“You better. Now get your butt home, breakfast is done, if that wasn’t clear.” Ruby darted off back to the house. Jaune picked up all the weapons and started the walk. If this was his punishment then he could live with this easily. Yep, just another day of light training.

[cicinicole-14]

The karev babies and injuries with jolex!!

so listen, I wanted so badly to write these while I was in the airport/flying but I was 100% in pain and not feeling well and right before we took off, @iamtrebleclefstories was the real MVP helping me with this as we bounced ideas off of each other about the kiddos injuries.but it took me forever because I have wanted to write this all day and couldnt until now. anyway, here! have these! 

here’s injuries for all the kkc kids for head canons! 

starting oldest to youngest, 

Gracie didn’t get hurt much at all. she was relatively unscathed. sure a few bruises, bumps and scratches here and there, but nothing super drastic, nothing a few kisses couldnt heal. 

ali had a twisted ankle or two from in ballet, landing a leap wrong but it was very rare. Alex still jokes she’s the milk man’s child because shes 100% the least like either of them. she’s so calm, very well rounded, quiet, and the least stubborn of their brood. 

Alexa is Alex incarnate. 100% mini evil spawn, through and through. She’s definitely gotten hurt while pulling pranks on her siblings, she’s the prankster of the bunch, and jo has definitely told her as she was older “that’s what you get for being a mini jerkface” though Alex however is kinda impressed at how elaborate the prank ended up being even though she sprained her wrist from the fall. and jo is just like “this. this is what i get for naming our daughter alexa she is just like you” she also has sustained quite a few injuries from wrestling. being the more energetic of the brood, her Eli and CJ were enrolled in gymnastics and then Eli got burned out as did she and Alex suggested wrestling for Eli to try and Alexa had a total meltdown that she was a girl and wasnt allowed and thats how she was enrolled in wrestlings where she gave her brother a concussion because Alex knew she’d be tough enough to play the “boy” sport

Eli has sustained a few concussions in his days. his first one which he got in wrestling by being punched too hard by alexa and he fell and hit his head too hard on the mat, jo absolutely freaked the fuck out. it was right after Izzie had passed and Eli had long since become her baby boy at that point, plus she was postpartum hormonal after having Micah. It was still a lot. and she flipped out watching her son fall onto the floor and also felt better about the whole thing knowing her daughter was the one who was the reason her son was suffering from the concussion it was a whirlwind of emotions. Eli is also one of the most accident prone out of the bunch. he likes to try and keep up with his sisters, trying to show off so they’ll include him in everything and hell end up getting hurt jumping off a bunk bed or something. he also plays football since he was little which resulted in a laundry list of injuries over the years from splinted shins to knocked out teeth to black eyes and broken fingers, burns and concussions. 

Alexis will get crazy and she will come home with scratches from falling off her bike or a bruise from roughhousing with her siblings too much. she also has a scar down her index finger from where she sliced it while cutting her own hair when she was little. thankfully at this point, the karev’s didnt even bring her into the hospital. Alex stitched her up at home, already having plenty of experience stitching his rambunctious children up with cuts from doing stupid shit. 

cj, cj is the child they worry about the most. she stuck with gymnastics thankfully, to run out all her energy and give her some guidance to her bounds of energy. but with all that energy and stubborn karev-ness comes the injuries of course. cj was the reason that Alex and jo had come to the decision that if they could stitch or fix their kids up themselves at home and they wouldn’t need a CT or anything related, that they wouldn’t bother bringing their kids into the hospital for something they can stitch up themselves. with that being said, CJ has gone to the ER multiple times. she got her entire arm stuck through a window of her sister’s barbie dream house and it was so bad that it ended up swelling up, leaving jo to flip out and bring her daughter (and dismantled barbie dream house wall in tow) into the GSM ER yelling for help. it became a whole thing and no one will ever let her live that story down of when she got her entire arm stuck in the barbie dream house window. she’s also dealt with later getting her fingers slammed in the bathroom door after jo specifically told her to stop and she was going to get hurt. thankfully there was no need to go to the ER that trip but jo did have to stitch her fingers back together after having a panic attack. cj also got her entire head stuck through the rungs of the banister on the stairs. and Alex had to cut part of the banister so ever since that happened, their banister has a giant gap in it… and of course, while trying to climb into her little brother’s crib, she got her for stuck in the gaps in his crib and when she freaked out and then fell, she ended up causing herself to have a hairline fracture in her foot due to the way she twisted and fell. that was another fun ER trip. the karev’s really have their work cut out for themselves especially with her. 

Micah so far as a chubby little top heavy baby due to his fat rolls and big karev head has only rolled off the couch a few times but he’s been brought up with six other siblings always running around him or hugging him a little too tight for a baby to be hugged, or a pat on the head a bit harder than necessary. he’s the last baby though, jo and Alex aren’t too worried. he’ll survive just fine. a few sractches from siblings nails, a smack in the face or foot in the head on accident when hes crawling around and either his brother or one of his sisters is running through the house full on tripping over him, y’know, baby of the family things. Alex and jo definitely make sure he’s completely fine but its not the first time and won’t be the last. 

[danciingflame]

credit (x)

&. BASICS

Full Name: Evelyn Ines Barbosa Phoenix

Nicknames: Phoenix, Phoebe, Ballerina

Age: 96 years old

Sexuality: bisexual

Date of Birth: August 9th 1924

Place of Birth: Lisbon, Portugal

Gender & Species: cis woman & (fire) sprite

Current Location: Ardora, Concordia

&. MORE BASIC INFO

Languages: Portuguese, French, English

Religion: atheist

Education: Graduated from Lisbon’s dance and acting university

Occupation: Principal Dancer/Prima Ballerina of Lisbon

Drinks, Smokes, & Drugs: she began drinking and using Concordia-native drugs after becoming a sprite, otherwise it would have been too damaging to her human body.

&. PERSONALITY

Zodiac Sign: Leo -- The Leo woman is a regal Lioness, queenly in every way. From her royal bearing to her personal style (which tends to be extremely expressive and bold), the Leo woman is strong and comfortable in owning her power, like her planetary ruler, the Sun. Though slightly sweeter-natured and usually a little less over the top than her male counterpart, a lady Leo can still be counted on to take no bull – if you try her, you may live to regret it. It’s best to avoid inciting that Leonine temper if you don’t want to see claws. Should you attempt to mess with her way of being or quality of life (especially anything related to survival: her family, home, or income), she will take you down – hard. Lady Leos are vivacious, full-of-life personalities, and their enthusiasm and ebullience can be completely infectious. They want you to do something wild and fun with them, so being a bump on a log or a stick in the mud will simply not fly for these big cats, who take deep delight in feeling their freedom and exerting their autonomy. 

MBTI: ESFP -- ESFPs are vivacious entertainers who charm and engage those around them. They are spontaneous, energetic, and fun-loving, and take pleasure in the things around them: food, clothes, nature, animals, and especially people.ESFPs are typically warm and talkative and have a contagious enthusiasm for life. They like to be in the middle of the action and the center of attention. They have a playful, open sense of humor, and like to draw out other people and help them have a good time.

Likes: her family (both her human and sprites family ofc), dancing, teaching, partying, the warmth, recklessness, the warmth within Mt. Ardora, silent nights, learning, freedom.

Dislikes: getting her heart broken, liars, people who end up depriving Phoenix of her freedom, people who give up after failing, indifference, injustice, the cold weather, boredom

Bad Habits: lip biting, always has to walk around somehow, or, if everything else is impossible, taps her foot and plays with something (mostly her hair)

Secret Talent: dancing, teaching, love

Hobbies: the wide and dangerous spectrum of love (and she’d like to punch herself for that, actually, lmao), ballet, getting together with her friends to cause some trouble and go on adventures, gossip (but in a non-malicious way), 

Fears: waking up and realizing it was just a dream, being left alone, people avoiding her.

Five Positive Traits: passionate, fiery, compassionate, coquette, ambitious

Five Negative Traits: vengeful, temperamental, distrusting, vain, destructive

Other Mentionable Details: uses her ballet to get rid of her energy, uses dancing as her fighting style to contain her flames and direct them/to engulf herself in flames.

&. APPEARANCE

Tattoos: none

Piercings: earlobes

Reference Picture: ref picture

&. FAMILY INFORMATION

Parent Names: Jaco Barbsa (former soldier) & Linda Barbosa (retired nurse since Phoenix cared for their finances) 

Parent Relationship: she had an excellent relationship with her parents, they mean everything to her and she prays every day for them (despite not being religious, but her parents were)

Sibling Names: she has no siblings

Sibling Relationship: --

Other Relevant Relative: NAME UP TO POSSIBLE PLAYER -- (technically) husband. His whereabouts are unknown, but Phoenix believes he’s dead. And if he isn’t yet then he better run.

Children: --

Pets: --

&. BIOGRAPHY

( tw: war, heartbreak, stalking )

Little Evelyn Barbosa was a creation of pure love. Her father, Jaco Barbosa, had returned from war and was celebrated within Lisbon as one of the few making it back alive. He’d fallen in love with a shy and compassionate but stubborn young woman named Linda. The charme of a soldier appealed to her and, not even a few years later, Evelyn was born into a world torn apart by coups, death and anarchy.  No one questioned legitimacy as she’d always been a calm and sweet baby, smiling at the silliest pee-a-boo jokes. Despite her parents not being married, they stayed together despite the backlash from their families and even friends. A strong, grounded love in the midst of war. A love like her parents was the first she got to know. It was a love that made her childhood so comforting despite the ongoing wars within their midst. While the government struggled to uphold rules and even leaders, Evelyn remained in close proximity to her parents and their warmth. She grew up in a small, but lovely cottage in Belém, hidden away from the terrors of this world. One could even say she’d been sheltered and smothered with love -- others might, she certainly never did. Evelyn decided, at an early age, to repay her parents by aiming for a higher education, to eventually buy them a beautiful finca and enough food so they’d never have to worry about anything else. She turned out to be a little miracle, a progeny, a muse.

Dancing lifted her spirit, made her feel alive, burning with passion and dedication to the craft. Especially ballet. The pirouettes and poses, the blood, sweat and tears one had to give to perfection such beauty -- Evelyn enjoyed the idea of being excellent at something so extraordinary, watched and admired by thousands. She trained for years to come and, with a scholarship at one of Portugal’s best ballet companies (what would later rebrand and become the national ballet of Portugal in Lisbon), Evelyn fully committed to becoming a professional ballet dancer. With such a natural talent like hers, paired with the passion needed to survive against all the competition, enabled Evelyn to graduate with honors. This is when love intervened. Not only after a year of performing on the big stage, Evelyn met her match -- a young, handsome and charming man. They locked eyes and Evelyn was fun over, just like that. Five times he went to the same play before Evelyn eventually gave in and decided to get to know him. Saying she wasn’t in love would’ve been a lie, no, in reality she’d fallen in love with him the moment they locked eyes. With her career unfolding and with herself slowly making some decent money, Evelyn eventually bought her parents the finca she’d always promised them. With herself on top of the world, Evelyn let herself fall into the arms of one of the only people she truly trusted.

The war arrived in Portugal at a time in which Evelyn finally tried to talk to him. Both her father and the stranger she’d fallen for were drafted and Evelyn put all her energy back into ballet. Each day her anxiety increased and the news got worse with more and more people dying. She’d hoped for good news -- her father arrived first, wounded by a gunshot wound in his right arm, then, a few days later, he returned -- perfectly fine and barely changed. While this should've raised red flags for basically everybody else, Evelyn remained clueless and naive. Maybe he was just one of the lucky ones and had been able to prevent any injuries. She dedicated a large portion of her time to him after the war in the hopes of making up for all the lost minutes with him. Evelyn got engaged rather quickly after spending some wonderful weeks with him and, not even two months after their engagement, the two got married with all the glitz and glamor possible in their post-war world. They honeymooned on the coast of Portugal while reality struck her like lightning. All her belongings -- gone for good. Evelyn spent most of her honeymoon searching for answers, she even went as far as to believe he’d been kidnapped. Yet, her search ended up in various dead-ends.

Like a bird with broken wings Evelyn found herself grounded, completely lost of all her innocence and naivete. Her pink tinted glasses turned red and with that her mood completely changed. Instead of channelling her passion for ballet, Evelyn requested the next few weeks off to find out more after there’d been rumors of him being spotted in the Caribbeans. A fire ignited inside of her, pushing Evelyn forward towards her husband. The closer she got towards the Caribbeans, the more hope she had that everything would be alright in the end. There was still the possibility of him returning to her, of him just being kidnapped. Evelyn would never find out since the plane she’d boarded crashed and burned before she could even reach him. She awoke in a strange, but beautiful world. Evelyn survived her personal hellfire and emerged as a new person. Less naive, less tender and with her innocence lost she joined the fire sprites on her quest to true love. The passion located in her heart fit perfectly into the ranks of the fire sprites, as did her rage. She channelled the intensity of her personality by using fire and from that a Phoenix arose out of the ashes of everything she’d lost. Ardora not only provided her with the perfect opportunity to change, but it also opened a completely new world to her in which she could start anew without worrying about anything, or anyone, else. Phoenix completely devoted herself to the social structure of her new home, like she always did. From her fighting skills to her place within Ardora -- she cared and made sure she’d remain important and respected. She rarely got out of her shell at first, but it didn’t take too long for Phoenix to warm up to everyone else. With self-love everything seemed possible now. Phoenix arose with an appetite to express herself, to dance surrounded by fire, to test her limits. A sense of freedom completely took over from there and with the new name a completely new person entered this world: hardened, free, passionate. She crammed all her missed out years into a few months, went from exciting activity to the next big thing, hoping to keep that rush alive inside of her. It would never go out, that she’d only realize a few decades later. The fire inside of her, bright and warm, would never go out again. And that naive, little girl described in the beginning, eyes as bright as stars and her heart filled with love? Phoenix loved to surround herself with fire now, fully embracing the previously asleep firebug within -- her spark would soon ignite the hearts of many -- and she would gladly pour all her energy into welcoming the next generation.

[carewyncromwell]

[Carewyn and Bill took their positions ten paces from each other, their wands at the ready.]

Bill: “Ready, Carey?”

“Ready! Shall we count off?”

Bill: “(with a nod) One...”

“Two...”

Both: “THREE! DEPULSO!”

[The two had somehow managed to cast the exact same charm at the exact same time. The spells collided in a large white flare that exploded with a loud BOOM and knocked them both backwards off their feet. Miraculously, though, both of them managed to keep hold of their wands -- Bill recovered quickly, hoisting himself up onto his knees.]

Bill: “Confringo!”

[Carewyn rolled over on the ground to dodge his spell.]

“Incarcerous!”

Bill: “Diffindo!”

[Before Carewyn’s enchanted ropes could land, Bill had effectively slashed them to pieces in mid-air. He gave her a broad smirk.]

Bill: “I figured you’d try to use that one. Stupefy!”

“Protego!”

[Bill’s Stunning Spell bounced off Carewyn’s Shield Charm. She smirked just as widely in return.]

“And I figured you’d try to use that one! Flipendo!”

[Bill leapt out of the way just enough that Carewyn’s Knockback Jinx only reached his foot. It did make him lose his balance and fall again, but not being hit straight-on meant he didn’t sustain as much damage, so he was once again able to get back to his feet quickly.

Bill had longer arms and legs than Carewyn, so she knew he’d have the advantage of reach, and thus it’d be harder for her to avoid his attacks. But one advantage she had as the smaller of them was that she wasn’t as large of a target. So as long as she didn’t get too close, and as long as she didn’t let him get too close, Carewyn could counteract Bill’s advantage.]

Bill is always direct in his attacks. His only target right now is me. So perhaps...

[Rather than aiming directly at Bill, she aimed her wand at his feet.]

“Bombarda!”

[The spell hit the ground hard, and just as she’d hoped, it threw up a bunch of dirt and debris, blinding Bill and making him stumble backward.]

He’ll probably go on the defensive, since he can’t see me --

[A confident smile on her face, Carewyn dashed forward to the right, circling Bill rather than getting much closer.]

”Incendio!”

[As she’d hoped, she’d avoided his Shield Charm by going around him. Bill’s shirt sleeve caught fire -- to his credit, he reacted to it very quickly, dousing it with water from his wand.]

Bill: “Aguamenti -- “

[But the time he’d needed to douse the flames was all Carewyn had needed to attack again.]

“Immobulus!”

[Her Freezing Charm collided with Bill’s arm, and in an instant, he’d frozen stock still with his wand arm and hand trapped stiffly in position. All he could do was blink as Carewyn dashed over, resting her wand lightly on his shoulder so the tip poked at the side of his neck.]

“I win. Finite Incantantum.”

[Bill’s shoulders immediately slackened and he lowered his wand arm. The determination melting from her face instantly, Carewyn extended a hand and took hold of Bill’s arm so she could focus on his burnt sleeve.]

“Here -- let me fix that. Reparo...Scourgify...Tergeo.”

[Each spell repaired, cleaned, and brightened Bill’s sleeve until it was as bright white as it had been before.]

Bill: “Thanks...”

[He gave a low groan.]

[Carewyn bit back a giggle even as her eyes glinted fondly.]

“Of course you are, Bill. Though I hope you won’t go crowing that to Charlie.”

Bill: “(with a grin) My lips are sealed.”

[He extended a hand, resting it in Carewyn’s bangs and ruffling them lightly.]

Bill: “I gotta say, Carey...you’ve really grown up.”

[Carewyn blinked.]

“Where’d that come from?”

[Bill laughed, even as his cheeks gained back some of the embarrassed flush he’d had before.]

Bill: “Sorry...it just sort of dawned on me, while we were dueling. During our first duel, you were so tense, in your shoulders -- and you just locked yourself to that spot, glaring at me. At the time, I’d assumed you were just focused on what you were doing...but I reckon you were actually a bit nervous, weren’t you?”

[Carewyn remembered. She’d heard that Bill knew how to do the Fire-Making Spell, which she and Rowan had both thought would be crucial in dealing with the Ice Vault. But Carewyn had known full well that Bill -- being two years older -- had no reason to help a weird little girl like her, let alone the weird little girl who was known at school for being related to the “delinquent” Jacob Cromwell...so she’d decided that she had to make a good impression, which included giving her all in their duel. That didn’t mean she wasn’t still painfully aware of how few spells she’d known or how little dueling experience she’d had at the time.]

Bill: “But just now? Complete opposite. You were quick, precise -- and you were smiling the entire time...like you were utterly fearless.”

[Bill’s face broke out into a large, warm smile.]

“...I’m really proud of you, Carey.”

[Carewyn’s heart felt like it had grown so big it was now pushing painfully against her rib cage. She felt the urge to throw her arms around Bill’s neck and give him a huge hug, but she repressed it with difficulty.]

Oh Bill...why do you have to go? Why does this have to be over so soon...?

“...Thanks, Bill. I’m really proud of you too. I mean...not too long ago, we were battling Ice Knights together, and now? Now you’re going to break curses for real.”

[Bill laughed.]

Bill: “‘For real?’ What have we been doing all this time -- training for the ballet?”

“You know what I mean!”

[Carewyn punched him lightly in the shoulder, and Bill laughed a bit harder.]

“All right now, no more distractions -- I believe you owe me a secret.”

[Bill chuckled a little more softly.]

Bill: “Heh, so you can tell I was stalling, huh?”

[Carewyn’s eyebrows knit together tightly over her eyes in confusion -- within seconds, however, her eyes widened in realization.]

Oh.

[She felt her cheeks burning. Her eyes fell away from Bill’s face, landing somewhere in the area of his shoes.]

“...You heard us.”

Bill: “Yep.”

“So you know about...?”

Bill: “My surprise party send-off from Hogwarts? Yeah.”

[Carewyn frowned deeply, making her flushed face look oddly grumpy.]

“You have the ears of a bat, Bill Weasley.”

I know Charlie and I weren’t whispering that loudly!

[Carewyn felt him rest a hand on top of her head -- she looked up at him, to see his smiling face was flushed too, making him look almost shy.]

Bill: “It was very thoughtful of both of you.”

[Despite the embarrassed pink still clinging to her cheeks, Carewyn relaxed slightly.]

“...But wait -- if you knew all along, why did you suggest going to the Three Broomsticks back in Rakepick’s classroom -- at Flourish and Blotts?”

[Carewyn’s face flushed a little bit more in exasperation.]

“Bill!”

[Bill’s laughter made it impossible for Carewyn to keep glaring at him. Soon she was smiling from ear to ear too.]

Bill: “I am sorry I made you buy me a gift, though -- hadn’t expected you to come up with that excuse...”

[Carewyn gave him a light shove.]

“Don’t be daft! The shopping might have been an excuse, but I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to spend that money on you. I could’ve decided not to spend all of it, if I’d wanted to. And well...I won’t be able to help you out anymore, when you’re at Gringotts, so...I figured I’d have to help some other way.”

[She forced a strong smile even as her heart chilled a few degrees in her chest.

Bill, however, didn’t seem fooled. His eyes softened as he came right up to her, bringing an arm around her so he could take hold of her shoulders in a sideways hug.]

Bill: “You will always -- always be of help to me, Carewyn.”

[Carewyn’s eyes narrowed slightly, visibly comforted.

She never would’ve admitted it to anyone -- but in Jacob’s absence, Bill had really filled a hole in her life that Carewyn had previously refused to acknowledge existed. Even though she’d always been so close to the vest and had always put on her strongest, prettiest face around everyone, Bill had never been afraid of opening his heart and home to her, and he’d always given her everything he could, even though she knew his family didn’t have any more than hers did. And even though, like her, he felt the desire to protect people and project stability to reassure them, Bill had never held back his more vulnerable feelings with Carewyn. He’d always trusted her -- and more importantly, he’d always believed in her...the last person in the world she herself could imagine having any sort of faith in.

Carewyn didn’t know how she could’ve been so lucky to meet and befriend Bill Weasley -- but she thanked whatever holy entity there was that she had.

Bill’s grip on her shoulders made Carewyn stand up just that little bit straighter, and she reached up a hand and took hold of Bill’s on her shoulder, squeezing it tightly.]

“I suppose Charlie should be about ready now. Promise me you’ll at least act surprised?”

Bill: “Of course! Wait until you see my brilliant performance.”

[Carewyn giggled as the two left the training grounds together, Bill’s arm still wrapped tightly around her shoulders.]

--->To Be Concluded...

((OOC: *covers her face to suppress the squees of joy* BILL, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, GAH. Also yes, another headcanon of mine is that Charlie and MC actually weren’t whispering that loudly -- Bill just hears and sees everything. XD

For those of you following this “Bye-Bye Bill” series, thank you so much for your support! It really means so much. As always, please consider liking/reblogging/commenting this post or any of my other roleplaying posts (consult the “roleplaying” or “gameplay” tags!), or even sending me or my muse Carewyn an owl through our Askbox. I hope your day is magical!))