and you have your second musical next

  • The Great British Baking Show: Everybody have fun :) :) I'm sure you'll all do fine :) Your Swiss roll is so lovely :) :) :) Very nice :))) *Light ballet music*
  • Any American Cooking Show: YOU GUYS HAVE SIX SECONDS LEFT THEN THE BOMB E X P L O D E S *Gunfire* YOU THINK THAT COUNTS AS FOOD YOU PATHETIC SAD SACK *Ride of the Valkyrie blasting in the background* ILL SEND A BULLET THROUGH YOUR SKULL BEFORE I TAKE A BITE OF THAT *Banshee shriek*
Moon through the houses

Moon in the 1st house: Whether for the better or worse your mother probably has a very big influence on you and your life. As your moon is on your ascendant your feelings are right out there for everyone to see, and you can come across as emotional and impatient, or nurturing and caring (or both). You need emotional stimulation, movement, and freedom to express yourself in order to feel happy and fulfilled. You have a vivid imagination and can be sensitive and self-protective. 

Moon in the 2nd house: Financial and material security are of extreme importance to those with a second house Moon. When it comes to money, you can be generous and frivolous in your spending habits one day, and frugal the next. Your emotional well-being is dependent on material comfort. Money can come from sources dealing with food, home, and real estate. Your finances are changeable and can manifest in phases throughout your life. You might also hold onto people quite tightly. You may love to indulge in anything comfortable, such as, fine foods, drink or music.

Moon in the 3rd house: Your emotions strongly influence their thoughts. You have an incessant curiosity, and are easily bored. Your thinking is strongly influenced from past experiences and early childhood. You have powerful imaginations and natural intuition. Your mother will have had a powerful effect on your mental development, and she may well have been strongly involved in your education. Much nervous energy gives you the ability to do several things at one time. You may become easily distracted and lose your concentration, thus it is often difficult for these people to concentrate.

Moon in the 4th house: Your home and family are incredibly important to you, as you see your home as a safe haven. Interacting with family members is serious business for you and any disagreements or disputes are taken to heart. Whether for the better or worse, you have deep relationships with your parents, but it is the relationship with their mother which is deepest. Commonly fourth-house moon chart holders spend a great deal of time with their mothers growing up and are often home giving their mothers constant emotional support. 

Moon in the 5th house:  You love to share emotional experiences with loved ones and have a flair for the dramatic. Love affairs are magnetic and intense, and you don’t take them lightly by any means, although you may go through much change with regard to your romances. You are attached to children, whether they’re your own or not. Your creative hobbies are subject to relatively frequent changes, and you have innate artistic talent. There is a sense that you are always in touch, or trying to get in touch, with your inner child.

Moon in the 6th house:  You have an emotional need to be useful, to work productively, to be organized and on top of things, and to lead a healthy life. If these matters are chaotic in your life, it’s a symptom of emotional unrest. You are excellent at tuning in to the physical needs of others, and generally happy take on a lot of tasks - both in your career and around the house. As you are very sensitive to your working environment, you tend to worry too much about how other people are feeling.

Moon in the 7th house: You are drawn to partnerships and prefer to have a companion for emotional support. A partner awakens feelings in you that you may never know you had, and you seem to need a partner to learn about your own needs and feelings. Emotional fulfillment is sought through relationships, but you may have many relationships one after another, each time believing that this is “the one”. Taking time between relationships is something that is hard for you to do, but quite necessary, as you tend to jump into relationships out of fear of being alone.

Moon in the 8th house: Your emotional peace and comfort are sought through intimate relationships. While you have a strong need for emotional security, you are also a person who is drawn to pushing your own limits, and many lifestyle changes can be the result of this need to challenge, or reinvent, yourself emotionally. You have a complex relationship with your mother and therefore have a very deep emotional nature. You are always fascinated with how people work, taboos, secrets, and all that is forbidden or hidden. 

Moon in the 9th house: You are a philosophical sort, interested and curious about the world, other people, and perhaps different cultures. You will have been powerfully affected by the convictions and values that your mother held, and though she may have been intellectually dominating, her opinions will continue to have a strong moral effect on you. You might find yourself longing to be somewhere else when you are unhappy. However, this attitude can only keep you from enjoying and improving upon the situation you are now in, only serving to make you feel more unhappy with your current circumstances.

Moon in the 10th house: This position of the Moon indicates an emotional need for recognition, popularity, acknowledgement, and achievement. You can be quite charismatic and your mother may have strongly influenced your choice of career. You are at your emotional best when you lead a structured and responsible life, but it can take time to get there. You may change your goals and ambitions, and/or your profession frequently in an attempt to find the perfect fit. You may worry about living up to your image, or the expectations of your family.

Moon in the 11th house: You form very strong bonds to your friends and are extremely sensitive to how they treat you. You are both caring and concerned as regards their personal development, and easily hurt if they let you down in any way. Drastic changes in your social life may be a reflection of inner emotional unrest. You are filled with many dreams, wishes, and hopes for your future, and most of these are altruistic and good-hearted desires. However, you might change your aspirations frequently, with your changing moods, and have a hard time settling on goals to work towards as a result. 

Moon in the 12th house: This position of the Moon indicates an emotional attachment and sensitivity to all that is ethereal, groundless, and eternal. As sensitive as you are, you often have delayed reactions to your own emotional experiences. You need frequent moments of solitude in order to recharge yourself emotionally, and this need, while strong, can also lead to feelings of isolation and of being misunderstood. While you are a perceptive person, you are often either flooded with emotions that are hard to define, or completely out of touch with what you are feeling. Either extreme keeps you from truly discovering your emotional needs.

That Party Feeling - Jeff Atkins

You are not a party person. One night, when Jeff Atkins makes you attend one, that changes. One silly party game changes everything.

 (Jeff Atkins x Fem!Reader) (2842 words)

Originally posted by wkom

“I don’t know Jeff, it just isn’t really my thing.” Jeff shook his head, eyes still on the road. He was driving you home, like he always did after school. It became second nature for him to find you at your locker and drag you out to his car, insisting to drive you. His kindness was one of the many perks of being friends with Jeff Atkins. However, his affinity for attending parties was a downside. You didn’t enjoy the noise or the people, but Jeff seemed to live off of it.

“C’mon Y/N, it’s going to be awesome. Jessica Davis is hosting too,” he said it like the fact a known-party girl was hosting was a rarity. You rolled your eyes as Jeff turned onto your street.

“I just, I don’t know,” you said quietly. Jeff pulled the car into the driveway of your house, parking it at the top. He shut off the car and turned in his seat to look you in the eyes.

“Okay, Professor ‘I Don’t Know’,” you laughed at his words, “I will be right here, in your driveway, at eight at night ready to pick you up.” He smiled at you sweetly, trying to win you over. If it wasn’t for the way his eyes sparkled when they looked at you, you’ve remained silent.You threw your hands in the air, in dramatic defeat.

“Fine, I’ll be ready.” Jeff laughed as you opened the car door and grabbed your bag. “I’ll see you at eight,” you said and shut the door. He watched as you walked up your porch and opened your front door when you heard Jeff yell.

“Dress to impress!” You turned around and gave Jeff the finger, causing him to laugh as he pulled out of the driveway. You watched as he car traveled down the street, biting your bottom lip as you did. Jeff Atkins was your friend, so why did you feel butterflies tickling your tummy at the thought of going with him to a cliche, High School party?


       “Y/N, Jeff is here! Are you going-” As you walked into your mother’s line of sight, her speech trailed off. You weren’t totally dressed up; you had just thrown on an outfit you knew Jeff liked. His hold on you, had shaped the way you acted. Jeff wasn’t your friend because he wanted you to change, he was your friend because you were who you were. But you couldn’t help but try to hint that you wanted more than friendship to bloom between the two of you.

      “You look great Y/N/N,” your mother said. You nodded a thanks to her as you walked towards the door.

      “I’ll be back around ten, no later. I’ll text you if something comes up.” You spoke as you as you put on your jacket.

     “Alright,” you mom said, “have fun. Not too much fun!” You smiled as you walked out of the door and out onto the porch. You saw Jeff rummaging around in his seat, as if looking for something. When he looked up at you, you almost giggled at his expression. Even through the window, you could see that bright, dumb smile. You walked over to the passenger side door, popping inside once you opened it. You buckled quickly, not looking at Jeff as you did. When you did look at him, you found that he was already staring at you.

   “You look,” he raised his hand in the air and tried to formulate the words he was looking for in the air.

     “Wow, thanks Atkins,” you teased and Jeff chuckled. He looked down to his lap and then back up at you, as if he couldn’t believe something. Another long moment passed until you spoke up.

      “So are we going or?” Jeff blushed and put the car in reverse. Seconds later, you were on your way to a night you would remember forever.

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Sex in Chanyeol’s kitchen

Originally posted by neskui

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 4,4k

Anon request: “ Can i request a baekhyun smut when he is jealous watching you keep talking to his friend?”



     A pair of strong arms is wrapped around your waist and two lips are pressing a short kiss on your shoulder. It’s afternoon but the view here is always beautiful. The blue clouds on the sky are forming a dome with different shapes that embraces the yellow ball above the sea. You hear the foaming waves hitting the rocks and your nostrils are invaded by the masculine scent around you. His scent.

‘It is beautiful, isn’t it?’

     You let out a hum and his arms wrap your waist tighter. Your back is pressed on his chest and his soft and wet lips are kissing your neck. A shiver is crossing all of your body when his hot breath hits your skin.

‘I will miss this view.’ Suddenly your voice is full of regret. You can swear his lips curl into a smile over your skin.

‘What?’

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  • King George III: Anything you say in the next thirty seconds is free. Starting right now.
  • Seabury: I think you're cocky, arrogant, bossy, and pushy. You also have a God complex and don't think of anybody but your damn self.
  • King George III: But I-
  • Seabury: But what? I still have twenty-two seconds, and I'm not done.

I fell in love with you slowly. It was your eyes first that I fell in love with. The way you looked at me, my breath always hitched in the base of my throat. Your blue eyes are always so breathtakingly captivating that I can’t control myself whenever I stare into them.

It was your voice next. The way you said my name. Chills would always tremor down my spine. And how in the late nights you laid next to me and mumble something, my love for you grew even more once your sleepy voice sounded like music to my ears.

Then came your smile. The same smile I cause whenever you’re near me. And whenever you look at me, that same loving smile that makes my heart race inside of my chest.

Next was how amazing your skin felt underneath my fingertips. How sometimes I can’t even go a second out of the day where I have to be skin to skin contact with you.

Then your lips, god those lips of yours. Soft and wonderfully addictive. I always want to kiss you. And smile afterwards at how amazing it always feels.

And then I fell all at once.

I’m in love with you. And I’m the luckiest girl in the world to call you mine.

—  S.V//@Sempiternal.poet on Instagram
twenty-one pilots album aesthetics
  • twenty-one-pilots: acrylic paint. the scent of a candle. lighting matches and watching them burn out. playing on an old piano. cold hands. typewritten poetry. winter. 3am walks. the clouds your breath forms when it's really cold. guitars out of tune. feeling tears on your skin.
  • regional at best: photos of you as a kid. an empty football court. a young couple on the bleachers. they are crying. feeling happy and in the next second sad. mood swings. daisies. picking flowers for your mother.
  • vessel: snow. sleepless nights. listening to music instead of sleeping. paracetamol pills on the floor. headaches. bonfires. a kid holding their mother's hand. polaroids. looking back at old photos. the nostalgia making you cry.
  • blurryface: conspiracy theories. cemeteries. red roses. shattered glass. the way a rest of light falls through blackout curtains. stars on cloudy nights. constellations. slowly getting better. looking back at how far you have come.
A So Called Blind Date

Summary: After not wanting to celebrate his birthday, Steve and Tony convince Bucky to go to a “Blind Date”.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1780

Warnings: angst at the end, mentioning of german food

A/N: yooo guess who’s back after her unplanned break of 141 days? I am so so sorry guys. You have no idea how many times I tried to write but just couldn’t. But for now, I’m back with the usual portion of fluff and angst <3 I hope you like it!

“You did what?” Steve asked, shoving his left hand through his hair before he let it fall to his side again. He looked at Tony, shook his head (twice) and then started scratching the back of his neck. He didn’t know what to say. Not after the thing Tony had just told him.

“The guy’s a hundred years old, Steve”, Tony defended himself. “He didn’t even want a birthday party. That’s the least we should do for him. When was the last time he was on a date? With a cute girl in a pretty dress? Huh? 1941?”

“That’s not…” Steve tried to say but Tony waved it off and Steve shrugged. Maybe Tony was right. Bucky didn’t want to talk to Steve about his birthday. Not to him, nor to Natasha or to Clint who he had kind of become good friends with in the past few months.

“It’s good to have a date every once in a while Steve. Even when he’s not ‘looking for something’”, Tony made some quotation marks in the air and rolled his eyes. The last time Tony had suggested Bucky go on a date, this had been the exact answer he had been given. 

That Bucky was too old. That he was carrying too many problems. That he was not looking for something. That he was just trying to be normal again if that was even possible for someone with a past like his.

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Don't Wait. Trust your Musical Abilities.

Music. It’s so beautiful. So simple. Yet, so complex. All of the many chords, keys, instruments and voices combine together to allow for an infinite number of pieces that can be created.
It allows for people of all skill levels to express themselves. Looking for a creative outlet? Jot down some words. Produce some tunes. Sing a song. You don’t have to be an expert; if you love it, then do it. If it makes you happy, then do it.
If music is something you’re interested in pursuing, whether it’s creating your own pieces, playing in a band or singing in a choir, pursue it. If you feel a burning passion for it, then regardless of whether or not you become the next hit pop star, you will find a way, and it will support you. Even if you have only created a couple of your own pieces, or even none at all, it will hurt even more to suppress your passion than to get rejected.

So, to all music creators, producers, writers and lovers, don’t second guess your abilities. You have a talent, and that talent will blossom. Continue to follow your passion, and allow it to grow in the most wonderful ways imaginable.

Meet and Greet

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Yoongi X reader

Fandom: BTS

Request(s): May I please ask if you can do a Yoongi x reader where you got front row tickets to their concert and he just stares at you the whole time?//  y/n meets yoongi in a fan meet n’ greet and like instead of being all hyper and nervous and all that y/n is like rlly calm and gives off this calming gentle aura, bc y/n doesnt want to hold their hand or isnt all up in his face screaming and all and it intrigues yoongi and he gives her his number and later they meet just to talk and get to know each other

Originally posted by sugagifs

The lights dimmed down in the large room filled with fans just to amp up the excitement in your chest. The room was quiet but only for seconds when the background music started playing and everyone screamed. The seven boys you had been waiting to see in person were now finally stepping out in front of your eyes. They did their greetings before starting, waving, and smiling at the fans in the audience. Yoongi catches your eye when you notice his glance directed over to you. You wave at him, smiling. To which he bites his lower lip, embarrassed, waving back at you. As the songs start coming out he continues to go near your side of the stage. Around the time they did the song, “Miss Right” he sat down on the stage. At first he was looking around in the crowd, doing his part, but near the end he continued it facing you. You smiled over at him until Jimin came over to mess with him. They laughed and moved to the other side.  All the continuous interactions made you only focus on him, forgetting you were there for all of them. After the concert you had began to file out with everyone else but someone approached you.

“I was asked to bring this to you but please don’t tell other fans. It could cause trouble..” The staff member told you

You look down at the fan meet pass, confused. “Oh but I didn’t-“

“It’s from the members. Please consider it a gift.” She told you before moving her way out of the crowd.

You start walking over to the line for the quick fan meet. You couldn’t help but wonder why they would personally hand them out until you came to the conclusion they must have been handing them out to random fans. You felt happy thinking you weren’t as lucky when it came to the stuff usually and it was a nice surprise. It’s your turn and you walk over, kneeling down in front of the table. Jimin smiles at you.

“I noticed you in the crowd earlier.” He says, signing the poster on the table.

“Really or do you say that to everyone?” you joked, laughing.

He laughed. “No, you were down in the front when I came over to Suga.”

“Hmm. I guess you really did see me then.”

Jimin extends his hands, putting his elbows down on the table to hold your hands but Yoongi cleared his throat.

“Can you keep the line moving?” He said, sitting next to Jimin.

You wave goodbye to Jimin, sliding over to him. He signs your poster fast so he could have time to talk to you.

“Thank you for coming.”

You both look back at each other as he shows off his famous smile.

“I really love your guy’s hard work and music. It wasn’t easy to get tickets though. Those things sell out in seconds.”

Yoongi reaches for your hands on the table that you kept politely in your lap so you lift them up for him.

“How about we fix that problem, then?”

You give him a confused look.

“I’m not sure what you mean by that.”

He flips over the back of the poster, writing as small as he could, to put his phone number down on it. You were honestly stuck in shock.

“Really?”

“Yeah…really. It’d be nice to see you cheering us on again. On and off stage. So whenever we come down here maybe we could meet up.” He told you, whispering the last part up to your ear.

Hoseok nudges him.

“You’re gonna cause a scene..”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and then turned his attention back to you.

“I guess this means I have to let you go…but this won’t be the last time I see you, right?”

You shook your head, giving him a bright smile.

“I’d love to see you again.”

Distractions pt 2

Pt. 1 || Pt. 2 || Pt. 3 || Pt. 4 || Pt. 5 || Pt. 6  || Pt. 7 || Pt. 8 || Pt.9 || Pt. 10 || Pt. 11 || Pt. 12

Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Angst (kinda…I guess?)

Summary: You and Yoongi had a history which nobody knew about. Now that you’ve debuted, you know your paths would cross again.

Word Count: 1689

Originally posted by jjks

Yoongi tossed and turned in bed unable to get the image of you out of his head. Seeing you at that music show was the first time he’d seen you in person in almost four years. He couldn’t lie, you looked amazing and watching you perform was on a whole other level. He knew you loved music just as much as he did, but he never imagined you going through trainee years or debuting as an idol. 

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Golden | Jungkook (M)

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

Summary: Jungkook will show you just how golden he really is.

Word Count: 6,670

Genre: Smut/fluff

A/N: Jungkook smut for my thirsty followers who didn’t get enough in AL. Btw I hope you enjoy it @helloblamebts :)) sorry for the wait bc I know you’re just as thirsty as everyone else

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Luxuriation

Plot: just Seb fucking you in a bathroom | Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: swearing, smut, oral, fingering, this gif I added???

Word count: 2375

A/N: I haven’t posted in a while so take this as a peace offering! Also, I’m not at home and I have really bad Internet access here so I won’t tag anyone atm!

Masterlist | Request

Originally posted by sebastiansource

A New Year’s Eve party with your co-workers, in a club. What a dream come true. This was the last place you’d wanted to spend the last night of the year, but here you were, standing next to the bar, a glass of red wine in your hand, waiting for your friend who promised to be back in 5 minutes, but it had already been about 20.

You watched people grind on each other on the dancefloor; two of your male colleagues making out in the corner across the room made you smile. They always did have a crush on each other, it was adorable, yet gross since they were practically dry humping each other in public. 

But then your friend popped up right behind you, startling you. “Giiirrlll, you have no idea what just happened.’‘ 

You snorted. ’'What?”

“I just met my possible future husband! Did you know Chris Evans is here?” she practically squealed. You arched an eyebrow in question, since you weren’t really familiar with the name. 

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[Two-shot] Eighteen Hours (Saeran x Reader): Part 01

Summary: You had eighteen hours to go, on a flight next to the man who had stolen your precious window seat. 

A/N: I will think of a better summary later. :)



Eighteen hours to go.

The rumble of the plane engine was drowning out the soft music playing in your ears, and you increased the volume while resting your head back on the seat. You shrugged on the jacket you had brought with you, hugging it around your cold frame. As you moved, you snuck a glance to the window on your left as inconspicuously as you could.

It was a gloriously beautiful afternoon, and the army of majestic clouds outside suspended in the pale blue sky was a marvelous sight to behold.

A sight that would have no doubt been even more breathtaking, if it weren’t for the man seated to you, his head limiting your view of the sky.

You resisted the urge to lean over and snap a picture. Or two. Or maybe a bunch of them. It felt entirely too awkward to tap him on the shoulder and disturb him from what seemed to you like an intense sky-watching session. His head was turned towards the window, his person still as he watched the clouds go by.

You huffed quietly to yourself, turning your head back to the blank TV screen in front of you. Sitting by the window was a must-have for you on any flight. You usually managed to get them, but this time you had to book a last-minute flight, and this was the last available window seat. You would have managed to book it, if you had been a few seconds quicker than the man next to you right now.

Again, you resisted the urge to glance over. You liked looking out on flights. It was cathartic, therapeutic. It gave you a reason to mull over random thoughts while looking out at the sea of clouds beneath you.

Well, for now it seemed that your music would have to be a replacement for the clouds as your flight companion. Eighteen hours would go by in no time, for sure.

…You really hoped it would.




Sixteen hours to go.

It was pretty dark in the plane now. Everyone had pulled down their window shades to keep the glare of the sun out as they enjoyed the movies that they were watching on the in-flight entertainment system, snuggled in blankets and snacking on some nuts that had been given out earlier.

Everyone but the man next to you, that was.

Your seats were the only ones that had bright, strong daylight streaming in through the window and shining on your laps. It had been two hours, and you had managed to distract yourself with a movie that you weren’t really paying attention to (oh, the credits were rolling already). He, on the other hand, had continued to stare out the window, unmoving other than to cross his leg over the other occasionally when he got uncomfortable.

From the corner of your eye, you stole yet another peek at him. The sun was setting now, and the sky outside was a brilliant swirl of gold and orange, the clouds painted a matching color. The light pouring in created a beautiful crown of gold encircling his fiery red hair. From the reflection on his blank TV screen, you could catch glimpses of the peaceful expression on his face. He was attractive, beautifully serene, his peculiar mint green eyes blank as they watched the clouds outside go by. Somewhere along the way he had put on his headphones. You didn’t know if it was to listen to music, or if it was to block out the noise from that one snoring passenger just a few rows away.

Either way, for some reason it made you feel oddly happy to know that the both of you enjoyed doing the same thing on planes. It was rare to find someone else who loved the window seat as much as you did, who appreciated the sight of the sky on the plane. Your family often chided for not taking advantage of the in-flight entertainment system, even though watching the scenery outside was plenty enjoyable for you. You usually did it while listening to some quiet instrumentals. While it was a shame that you couldn’t watch the sky from the window this time — and on such a long flight to boot — you supposed it wasn’t so bad, now that you found someone who was strange like you.


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Jeff Atkins Imagine/ So Much More

Warnings: Fluff, cursing, self harm, depression.

You just started your Junior year in high school, well that wouldn’t be so bad except, you just transferred to a whole other school, so you literally know, nobody.

You get sent to office to get your schedule, the lady at the desk had way too much perfume and smelled like an old woman’s house.

You inhale it all and cough a bit

“Are you okay dear ? You’re not trying to get out of the first day of school are you ?” she laughs likes she made the most funniest joke in the entire world

You just fake smile at her, grab your schedule and be on your way.

You walk through your new school halls, wishing this day would be over and done with, but it was just beginning.

1st period was math , which you sucked at.

You sat down and tried to not look any other way , you opened your math book and started flipping the pages , not really paying attention to the people coming in.

“Okay you guys, we have a new classmate..” your teacher says out loud

“Great..” you say under your breath

“Let’s give a warm welcome to Y/n!”

The classmates glance at you and look the back to their phones and friends, acting as if you were a brick wall.

Well this was going to be a great year you said to yourself.

You start to walk to your 2nd period, it was P.E, you didn’t care much for physical activity, but you weren’t terrible at it.

You get changed into your attire and it seemed all good, some girls would giggle and laugh at you, but seriously, what could you really do ?

So you walk out of the locker room and get to your P.E group.

Today’s activity was simple, walk for basically the whole period, which was easy enough for you.

You walked alone, of course, but not really minding that, it was a great day out, you so you couldn’t complain.

Watching everyone hang out with their buddies, and friends, and even significant others made you feel sad. You never had a lot of friends in school, only really two best friends , you moved and you were heart broken, you use to call each other the 3 musketeers, you did everything together, the mall, shopping for the right clothes, go to parties, even did cheer and wen to cheer camp. You hated moving, and you hated this school.

After basically walking for 30 minutes you go back to the locker room, the girls laugh and pointed again, sure , that’s all they did, but it still hurt.

You shed a tear or two as you walked to your 3rd period, it was hell from there, everyone ignored you, 4th period was a little better, you met a friend, she was nice, her name was Jessica.

You also had 5th period together so you walked to that class together as well.

Unfortunately you guys didn’t have lunch together so you sat alone, you ate your food, alone, it was embarrassing.

You ended up in the library just eating and drinking, while reading a book, it was your only escape.

You got a glimpse of a guy who was being a little louder than he should, he caught your attention, he had chestnut brown hair, tan skin, and cheek bones that could cut you. You cocked an eyebrow, he was a little cute, but still too loud. You looked at your watch, it was almost time for your 6th period, so you got up and started to walk out of the library.

While you were walking you held your head high, swaying your hips just a little, hoping he would notice, well little did you know, he was.

Jeff’s Point Of View

Well, shes’s pretty I thought, she has a cute figure, I wonder why I haven’t seen her around, I shook my head, she must be new.

I got up and started walking to my 6th period, I noticed the girl was walking ahead of me, and the same direction, I come to find out we have the same class together, it was Science.

“Okay class, now everybody welcome Y/n , she’s new and just transferred”

I look at her up and down, I get a closer look, and she’s so damn beautiful, almost breath taking, I need to get to know her.

Regular Point Of View 

I smile and wave and a few people wave back, giving me a little bit of confidence

“So today we will be in pairs, how about you and Jeff ?”

The boy from the library looks up in shock but then quickly goes back to his cocky self

“Yeah sure.” he says , shrugging his shoulders.

You sit down next to him and start to open your text books

“You’re not going to need those.” Jeff says as he looks at you

“How do you know?” you ask a little sassy toned as well

“Because we are working on a project, that includes your notebook, we’re literally making our own science.”

“Oh okay, well what are we going to be doing?” I ask

“I was thinking about making a computer that does your homework for you.” he says

“Wow.” you rolls your eyes

“What? Google isn’t cutting it okay ?” he says

You giggle a bit, and that brings a smile to his face

“No but on a serious note, what do you have in mind?” he asked

“How about a dating site that matches you through music and tv shows?” you say

He looks at you for a second in confusion, them simply smiles “That could actually be really interesting.” he says as he writes that down

“You could be the designer, since you have good taste.” you admit to him

“You think I have good taste?” he smiles

“Yeah, I mean , your fashion style, you know.” you say as your move your hair back

“Got it.” he puts his thumbs up.”

Before you both knew it class was over and the bell rang 

“Hey what class do you have next?” he asked

“History” you said

“No way?! Me too!” he said

“Wait really? “ you asked

“Yeah, we can walk together if you’d like?” he said a little shy

“Yeah i’d like that.” you smiled

********

The next few weeks became a lot like that day, math was slow, P.E was hell, 4th and 5th period were very fun because of your friend Jessica, and then after that You saw Jeff for lunch, 6th, and 7th period.

You guys became really close, he was a really nice guy, sure he let his cockyness show sometimes, but not in a bad way, he was a jock, so it was expected from him.

“Why don’t you come over to my house ?” he asked 

You were a little taken back 

“Oh , Jeff I’m not like that…” you say a little offended

“No no oh my gosh not like that Y/n, for the project! We need more time and 30 minutes isn’t enough.” he says

“Oh! Okay I need to ask my mom if that’s okay -”

“You need permission?” Jeff asks a little confused

“Yeah” I say a little embarrassed

Jeff noticed so quickly said “Hey all parents are strict over theirs daughters, not so much the boys am I right?” he laughs

And you giggle as well “Right, well I’ll text you and let you know what they say!”

“Okay cool.” he says


Your parents say yes since it’s a school project, you quickly text Jeff saying you can make it.

“Great, you can come over around 4:00pm?” the text said

“Sounds good” you say 

Jeff sends you the address and you start to get ready, straightening your, putting on a floral top, some white jeans,a jacket, and a pair of sneakers, you grab your books and head out your door.

Getting to Jeff’s house, you were in schock

“wow, it’s huge.” you say as you walk to the door, you ring the door bell, it was a fancy bell ring , of course.

Jeff opens the door and smiles, you realize he changed as well.

“Hey!” he says as he waves

“Hi!” you wave back

“Well I don’t want to keep you outside, come in!” he says

Looking around his house and you start to realize Jeff must have the richest parents in th world

“Sorry I didn’t pick you up, my car is in the shop.” he says

“Oh it’s not a problem, you actually live like 3 blocks away.” you smile

“Wow really ? That’s good to know.” he starts to walk into the kitchen

“ Do you want anything? We have water, soda, juice?” he asked

“I’ll take a water.” you say

He opens the fridge and it’s like a super market

He pulls out a Fiji water and hands you it 

“Thanks “ you smile and start to drink it

You open your notebook and start to talk about the project.

Getting a lot done you decide to take a break

“Do you want something to eat?” he asked

“like what?” you ask

“Hot pockets?” he asked

You laugh at that “Sure Jeff I would love a hot pocket.” 

He smiles and heats up both of you one

Setting them down on place mats you start to eat.

“Do you wanna go to the tv room?” he ask

“You have a tv room?” you ask a little confused

“Yeah, come on.” he signals as he gets up

You grab your hot pocket and you water and start to follow him

Heading to the tv room your mouth opens

“You mean the theater room?” you almost yell

“Yeah I guess” he smirks in a cocky way

“You laugh and you guys watch spongebob on his gigantic movie screen

Enjoying the show you take off your jacket, Jeff couldn’t help but stare, you catch him looking so he quickly looks away, and coughs a little bit.

You smile at that and just continue watching the show

Going back to the living room you guys decide to work on the project a little bit more, well you forgot your jacket, soas you were writing Jeff looks at your arms and he noticed the scars on your wrist.

“Hey, whats; that?” Jeff pointed out , kinda regretting he asked, but then kinda glad he did

“What ?” then you looked and saw that your scars were showing, “Oh my gosh.” you got up from the table and started to collect your things 

“Wait . don’t go Y/n.” Jeff said as he got up too

You were trying to get your stuff together and things kept dropping, so you just started to head to the door, as you were opening it Jeff shut it and puts your hair back behind your ear, that was your first touch, your first physical encounter touch. You quickly look up at him and saw the look he had in his eyes, his eyes, they looked sad, they looked concerned.

All you could do was cry, you put your hands in your face and you just cried, Jeff grabbed you and pulled you in, just rubbing your hair and back.

“Hey hey, it’s okay, you’re okay.” was all he really said, he never dealt with this himself, nor knew anyone who did, he was popular, and he wasn’t like you.

He asked if you wanted to sit down and you nodded yes.

He then got you an other water and said to drink it to calm down, you did.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked

“No, yes., I don’t know.” you shook your head

“I promise I won’t judge, or say anything.” he said

“It’s just I’m under a lot of pressure, my parents want me to become something big, like a scientist , or a corporate manager, or something like that.” you cry a little

“What do you want to be?” Jeff asked

“I want to run my own bakery.” you say

Jeff laughed a little bit and you yelled “You said you wouldn’t judge!” 

“Calm down I said I wouldn’t judge you why you did it. I didn’t say I wouldn’t judge you for what you wanted to be.” he laughs more

You fold your arms and try to hide the smile that was peaking through, you loved when Jeff laughed, he smile was breath taking, his teeth were perfect, his jawline was so structured ,  and it just made you happy

“It’s cute that you want to own your own bakery, honestly, and you could totally do it, you could do anything you set your mind to, I promise that okay?” he said

“Okay.” you said

“Baby look, you’re one of the most sweetest , amazing, down to earth people I know, I don’t want you doing this.” he says

You were in shock 

He called you “baby” you didn’t know what it meant, but you sure all hell liked where it was going

“Thanks Jeff.” you said with a smile

“Anytime, and hey, promise me, when you feel like doing anything like this, call me okay? It doesn’t matter what time it is.” he said

You laugh “Okay expect late night phone calls.” you laugh

“I’ll look forward to them!” he says with a laugh

Then things got pretty quite, but then all of a sudden , Jeff grabs your chin and pulls you closer to him, faces were inches away from each other, he looks you into your eyes, and he kisses you.

His lips, they melt into yours, they feel like how caramel mixes in with chocolate, it’s like your lips were made for his. He kissed you slowly, it wasn’t fast at all, his hands glided through your hair , your hands surrounded his neck and you could feel the passion in the way he moved, his hands traveled your body, in the most respectful but sexiest way. Tracing your curves of your skin with his fingers and gently touching them as he does so.

Soon his tongue enters your mouth and you tongues swirl around like its a twister. Dancing together, not giving up, and fighting for dominance you quickly discover that he wasn’t going to let you win, and you couldn’t help but smile try to fight even more. 

As you finally break away for air Jeff just looks at you and you simply blush and ask “What?” 

“Nothing” he shakes his head

You realize moving to a whole other school couldn’t be so bad after alll.

  • Me after the episode: alright. Finally I'm done being emotional and I can breathe for a little until next week
  • Me: rewatches the episode and notices that right after the music meister says "put a little love in your heart", Mon-El pulls Kara's head to his and whispers "I have you in my heart"
  • Me 10 seconds later: *throws my phone again and cries for another hour because Karamel really wants me dead*
The King-part 2

The King-part 1

Summary- Gwendolyn yearns for more. More freedom, more choices, and more pleasure only King Negan can provide. Medieval AU

Warnings- Smut, Knife Play, Possible Dub-Con, Punishment, darker than my normal stuff

Word Count- Around 4.3K

Author’s Note- Probably not historically accurate. Lol. This is my submission for @jeffreydeanmorganrarechar Red Velvet prompt as well as @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash Negan Writing Challenge prompt knife play. Thanks to @theatricalbride for the brain storming session. It helped a lot. This will probably be a collection of one shots.

Tag List- @breemacen24 @negans-network @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @ladylorelitany @melodicdolls @ninjacuddlepile @negansqween @thatwriterizzy @sassyfiedscribbles @ashzombie13 @wadeyourebarelyalive @starshinesupergirl @adayinmymeadow @astrangegirlsmind @supererogatoryblog (these are the people that have requested to be tagged in everything I write or have said they don’t mind if others tag them…if I missed you just let me know. I’m sorry)

My beautiful moodboard was created by the lovely and talented @ofdragonsanddreams16. I love it! It is so gorgeous.

Gwendolyn gazed at her reflection. Her hand slid down the bodice of her dress. She finally looked and felt like a queen. Having been married for a little over a month, she had felt like a prisoner, a possession, and a failure but never a wife or queen.

She had been raised to expect to marry a king of her father’s choosing. He stressed that it was her duty to secure an alliance with a powerful kingdom. Her mother persuaded her that marrying for position, power, and the love of the people would provide her a life with purpose. Who needed the love of a husband? Gwendolyn was prepared to live without it. In fact, she was taught by her mother to live independently of a husband and keep her own council. Many men would be happy to share her bed and leave her to her own devices during the day, but she had not married just any man.

King Negan was possessive and guarded her jealously. In the stories of fair maidens being rescued by handsome knights, he would have been the dragon that burnt all would be suitors to ash and cinders. He isolated her so only those loyal to him had access to her. Her handmaidens were chosen by him, reported to him, and seem to delight in reminding her of that fact. There was no friendship, no shared gossip, none of the warmth she had had with her previous servants.

She fared no better with the ladies of the court. They knew she held no favor with her husband. Therefore, there was nothing to be gained by her friendship. It would only bring themselves under the scrutiny of the king. A situation everyone actively avoided.

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anonymous asked:

How Roman would react to you, his gf, surprising him by coming back from a major injury on Raw? xo

How Roman Reigns would react to his girlfriend surprising him by returning from a major injury to Raw…

Originally posted by whenitpoursyoureign

~ You and Roman would’ve only been together for a short while but were pretty much inseparable.

~ You got a major knee injury in a match against Charlotte right around yours and Roman’s 4 month anniversary.

~ You begged non-stop. Constantly asking whether you cold go with him to his shows and still travel with him.

~ Roman continually refused, plainly stating you’d be too upset having to just sit there not knowing when or at certain points ‘if’ you’d ever return to that ring.

~ You couldn’t just lie and say you wouldn’t be devastated seeing all these women perform in the ring you once did however, you’d still prefer to go along and support your boyfriend, even if it hurt you ever-so-slightly. What nobody knew though, was at this very moment you’d just been cleared to wrestle, exactly one month before what was originally suggested to you.

~ It was the Raw after Payback and Roman had just beaten Rusev in a No Holds Barred match. Rusev didn’t like this fact; so this is where they ended up… In the centre of the ring, face to face but of course Rusev had Lana stuck to his side like always.

~ The two engaging in this intense war of words instantly drew attention from the crowd as the two fought for enough mic time to insult the other. Well… that was until Lana got involved.

~ A mass of “Shut Up’s” erupted from the Blondes mouth before she began to rip off her stilettos, throwing them towards the muscular body of your boyfriend.

~ At this point, you would’ve been lying on your couch; half in a daze over how hot your man looked when he was angry but half screaming at the situation going off on the television screen in front of you. That moment wasn’t today though- you were standing nervously in the Gorilla of the arena awaiting the moment you could stand beside Roman in the place you’d truthfully call your home.

~ Roman cheekily grinned, trying to refrain from a fit of laughter as her heels tumbled to the floor by his feet. “You know Lana? You’re real lucky she’s injured because right about this very moment- you’d be on your ass.”

~ Her face instantly went sour over his remark, as did Rusev’s turn to pure frustration. Roman… well he just looked damn pleased with himself bringing the microphone to his lips again, “If she was here, I promise you wouldn’t. Believe that.”

~ Within a matter of seconds you entrance music erupted through the arena causing the crowd to roar and cheer. Guess being a fan favorite did have its perks.

~ You sprinted towards to ring, catching glimpse of the pure shock that had washed over Roman’s face which soon changed as a smirk etched on his face. You strode next to your boyfriend’s hip grasping the mic out of his hand to make your bold statement to the universe. “How you doing Lana, huh? Want me to finish the job now; ‘cos believe me… I will.”

~ The pair of Rusev and Lana almost instantly scurried off, Rusev escorting his lady up the ramp and out of harm’s way. You being the one raring to get in a fight right about now. You dropped the mic, letting it bounce off the floor before you turned to face Roman.

~ “I’m back baby.” You gleamed, letting your hand rub circles upon his cheek.

~ “Damn though, you look hot babygirl” He replied, lifting your frame up slightly so his lips could meet yours, leaving the two of you back together in a passionate embrace.


Geez Roman! 

Tag List - @m-a-t-91 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch

Again, if anyone would like to be tagged in our future uploads, feel free to ask us! :) ~ Nikkii

Take A Deeper Look - Pt. 3

{Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3}

Pairing: Jay Park/You, Simon D/You

Summary: AOMG’s newest producer has a lot to deal with including a flighty CEO who doesn’t understand the concept of “personal space” and feelings for yet another CEO who is so far beyond her reach she doesn’t even think she has a chance.

Content: [smut] d/s themes

Word Count: 5140

Notes: It’s here, and it only took 50+ years. <3

   To say your life had become insane, would be a major understatement. You had avoided Jay at all cost for the past two days and your work was suffering for it. On the outside of your studio door a “do not disturb” sign hung for all to see in bold print. It deterred most would be visitors from entering your studio with the exception of Kiseok. He had come and went multiple times and every time he came he questioned you about your progress and whether Jay had been giving you any more problems.

   Of course, you lied. You covered yourself by sharing the completely unnecessary tweaks you had made to the second track with him. He would usually never be fooled, but he had been so busy with his own work and his newly public ‘official’ relationship with Soori that he simply let it go. The only thing he had for you was an invitation to Secret Society for an AOMG outing tomorrow. You didn’t even care to debate why Kiseok the Recluse was finally deciding to out and party. All you could focus on was your own dilemma.  

   The strangest thing was that everyone acted as if they had no inkling of what had transpired between you and Jay just a few days ago. Hyukwoo had to have said something. He wasn’t a big gossip or anything, but you had a feeling the Boss shoving his tongue down a producer’s throat would be too big of news to just let go. Not even Jay himself had come to harass you about it. He had sent you a simple text to let him know when you needed him back in the recording booth. As far as the world was concerned, it seemed the situation had never happened.

   “But I know it did,” you insisted angrily at the soundboard in front of you. Thinking about it made you more conflicted than you had ever been in your life. On one hand, you were mad as hell - on the other, you were simply curious. Why had you let it happen? Why had you not pushed him away the second it had happened? Why did your thighs instinctively rub together whenever you thought about the way his lips had felt on yours and his hands on your body?

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10| Pas De Deux

Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Genre: Ballet au, Romance, Angst
Warnings: None
Wordcount: 4282

Masterlist | Prev | Next

Jimin. He was back. He was here. He was back…

He strode into the room, his movement just as you remembered. His fists were tightly clenched. Your breath was taken as you remembered how safe and warm your hands had felt in those and how his hands had been gentle, but confident. He was wearing black track pants and a fitted white t-shirt. Somehow it didn’t look like a uniform on him. On his wrist you saw a black wrist band you hadn’t noticed before. There was something attatched to it, some sort of intricate design. You wondered what it was.

Then you finally looked at his face. His strong jaw and chiselled features were tense, but they were as you remembered. His lips were a straight, almost in line. And his eyes, the same brown as you had learnt so well in those few moments, deep and infinite. You wanted to look into them again, you wanted to explore more, but he wasn’t looking at you. You shut your eyes and exhaled, trying to remind yourself that you hardly knew Park Jimin.

He was standing at the front of the class, his hands now behind his back. Mrs. Shin was already sitting at the piano, a quiet smile on her face.

Yuna had been trying to get your attention and you glanced at her. ‘Thank God’ she mouthed then grinned. You gave her a weak smile back. Jimin was here, and so your abnormal curiosity might be satiated. But then, Jimin was here, and after all that had happened, after he’d walked out, could you even face him again?

He now cleared his throat, looking out at the class. “Good Afternoon, class.” He said. His voice was the same authoritative sound, though it seemed so business-like. The last time you’d heard him speak was when he had been talking to Taeyeon in the dining hall. Back then his voice had been angry, and tense. Now it was just blank.

Whilst you had been thinking, everyone else had stood up, and they were now chorusing. “Good Afternoon, Sir.”

“Sit for a minute.” He said. You exchanged another glance with Yuna as she sat down again, what was this going to be about? Jimin stepped forward, a serious look in his eyes. “As Jiwoo’s class I believe you have the right to know how she is.” He began in a heavy tone. You sat up straighter. He had more information about Jiwoo? His jaw was taut as he continued. “In falling she managed to break her collarbone. Normally it wouldn’t be so bad, but the bone has been displaced.” He swallowed. His expression was still calm and controlled, but you saw his tensed jaw. “She got out of surgery a few hours ago.” He rubbed his chin, as if deliberating something, then looked back to the class. “At present, they think it’ll take her four months to heal.”

You felt tears pricking your eyes. You felt sympathetic for what Jiwoo was going through. Ballet dancers were injured all the time, it wasn’t rare, even though at Amour there weren’t that many. But if you yourself wasn’t allowed to dance for four month, it would be terrible. Jiwoo loved ballet. You’d seen it on her face, and in the way she worked. And of course missing four months of classes would mean she would fall far behind the class.

Jimin exhaled and clapped his hands together. “Positions, please!” He frowned suddenly. You saw who he was looking at. “Who are you?” He asked, walking over.

Eungkwan, who you’d thought to be rather shy, now stood up straight, his chin raised. “Dahn Eungkwan.”

Jimin’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a second year. Why are you here?”

“I’m Miss (Surname)’s partner.” Eungkwan answered.

You waited for some kind of reaction from Jimin, some tiny show of something at your name, but he just looked Eungkwan up and down very slowly, studying him, then looked behind him, out the window and off into the distance. He seemed caught on a thought, just for a few seconds, then he snapped back to the class. “Hurry up!” He said, returning to the front of the class. “Promenades!”

You stood up. A horrible wave of pain crashed around your head. Your vision was shrouded again by black. You pressed a hand to your forehead. Oh God! Then it began to clear again, and the pain left with one final stab. You took one deep breath and then hurried over to Eungkwan. The piano had already started, and he quickly put his hands on your waist.

Nerves thrummed in your stomach, even though they had no reason to. It felt strange to have Eungkwan’s hands on you when Jimin was here. You knew why; everything that you lacked in your partnership with Eungkwan. The emotion, the connection, the passion. Like you’d had when you’d danced with Jimin. And now he was here, in the very same room, and it seemed as though the feeling you had had on that day was so close, but out of reach.

You swallowed, telling yourself to just forget it. “Promenades!” Jimin called. “And five six seven eight and step up two three.” You stepped up onto Pointe and your head swirled as Eungkwan began to turn you. “Miss Gwan, stand up straight!” Jimin circled Minjee and Jongsoo, adjusting their hands and pushing Minjee up taller. “One more promenade then down into courus for eight counts! Five six seven eight and down! Courus right!”

You felt dizzy as you made the tiny courus. “Where are the arms?” Jimin demanded. Eungkwan hands went away from your waist, and for once you felt like you needed them. You tried to breathe in as you raised your arms to fifth.

“And arabesque step and up! Keep control!” Jimin ordered, exasperation in his voice. You glanced in the mirror. He was looking at the whole class, his hands on his hips. You looked at them as well. Even with your horrible state, you had to admit Eungkwan and you were looking pretty sharp. Others wobbled or let down their legs. Hyeun was gripping her partner’s shoulder. You felt like slouching over Eungkwan’s hand which lay on your belly, head felt so heavy. Toughen up, (Name)! Your yelled at yourself. You took a deep breath and lengthened your neck. You had to keep the composure. You were doing okay, you were fine.

“And now down, four two steps forward and into pirouette!” It seemed like pirouettes were the worst thing you could possibly do right now, but you launched into the fast spin, Eungkwan’s hands ringing around you. Nausea was tugging at you now, in your belly and your throat.

Oh Fuck.

“And out into developpe!” You stopped the pirouette, and wobbled dangerously. Come on! You lifted your leg out in front of you, still bent. “And stretch out! Hold it! Keep holding!” Jimin gave an exasperated sigh. The piano stopped.

“What the hell.” He began, walking between the dancers to the front of the class. “Do you think you are all doing?” His lips were pursed, hands still on his hips.

After a few moments, Hyeun eventually stepped forward and said. “We didn’t really have to, you know, worry about it with Madame Zhang.”

Jimin folded his arms. “So you’re entirely reliant on your teacher, Miss Yah?”

Hyeun bit her cheek, looking guilty. “I guess.”

Even though he was only addressing her, everyone felt guilty, and he knew. Jimin sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. He looked out at the class. You’d noticed all along, but hadn’t thought personally of it. He never looked to where Eungkwan and you were standing.

“None of you will ever succeed in ballet if you have to have someone to make sure you’re keeping the standards.” He stepped forward, looking at the class. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t have your teacher, or if you’re tired, or if you’re frustrated.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “There are no excuses. You dance to your standards and when you reach them you set higher ones. You never lower them, you never get complacent and for fuck’s sake, you never get sloppy!” Your class was silent, his words sinking into each and every one of you.

You looked at Jimin, feeling something stir in you. He was so very right.

He held his gaze on the class a few moments longer before letting his folded arms drop to his sides. “Rows of three.” He said. “We’re doing combinations, and if any pair performs sloppily then they will do it again until they get it right.” He raised his chin and clapped his hands. “Hurry up!”

“Someone’s touchy.” Minjee muttered as everyone went to the back.

“You in particular, Miss Gwan-” Jimin murmured from the front of the studio, looking nonchalantly at his black wristband. “-Should be thinking about standards. I’m sure your partner is sick of having to push you round your pirouette.”

You glanced at Jongsoo. He was looking down awkwardly. Minjee huffed and went to the back rows.

Jimin gave himself a little smile before looking back at the class. “Alright, first combination. Ladies courus up for eight, arms second to fifth. Then arabesque. Gentlemen run up and catch the arabesque. Ladies curl the working leg around a little. Promenade and finish.” You pictured it in your head quickly. “First line up! Mrs Shin.” He nodded to her, and she began a slow tune. “Five, six, seven, eight. Slowly, Miss Yah! Feel the music! Mister Rhee keep your feet in, good and plie down to finish. Next group up!”

Nerves suddenly shot through you. Only three pairs. Then he would have to look at you. That doesn’t matter, he’s only your teacher, just a teacher.

“And next group!” The dizziness suddenly returned as you échappéd to pointe. You raised your arms, going from outstretched to above your head and back down. You couldn’t wobble, not now. Your head throbbed. You could see little lights dancing around the room.

“Miss Price keep your posture! Arabesque!” You held your breath and let your leg up. Eungkwan gracefully ran and caught you in the arabesque, then turned you around. You had to keep your head straight, though it felt like your insides were spinning.

Remembering the next move, you quickly curled your leg around Eungkwan, effectively circling his waist. You could feel the heat from his body.

“Mister Dahn.” You glanced up at Eungkwan’s name. Jimin was frowning at you and Eungkwan, his eyes avoiding your face. It was the first attention he’d shown your all lesson. You were more excited than you should have been. He studied your position. You glanced in the mirror behind him, and saw yourself, arms reaching out, leg bend in a curl around another dancer. And you saw Eungkwan, his hands on your waist, standing with perfect posture, his eyes straight ahead, completely blank.

You refocused on Jimin. He took a breath through his nose and looked away from you, the muscle in his jaw twitching ever so slightly. “And plie.” He said to the windows, his face still tense as Eungkwan and you plied and then rose up again. You tried to work out his expression, but the sparkling lights had returned, glimmering around everywhere. The stabbing in your head seemed to go in time, as did the horrible swirling in your stomach. You shuffled to the side of the studio and back to the line.

“He missed the promenade.” Eungkwan muttered, already in line.

You nodded, but you didn’t really care. Your headache pulsed insistently hard at you, probably worsened by your confusion about Jimin.

You performed several more combinations, with many stops and starts for other pairs as Jimin went over details. But every time Eungkwan and you performed, he watched passively. There wasn’t much to correct. Eungkwan was, of course, flawless. And you were managing to keep composure. But your headache was getting worse.

“Right.” Jimin said eventually. Lights sparkled around him. You gripped the barre as you swayed.

“Now we’ll move on to four pairs at a time. Four ladies one side, four gentlemen the other. Tour jetes across, crossing over so you swap sides. Second time come halfway across to meet your partner. Sidestep into a line. Développé right, two steps and grand battement, then développé left, same thing. Leap right, leap left. Pirouettes, then finish passé out to développé.” He grinned at the class. “Now we will see who’s been listening.” He clapped his hands. “First group up!”

As soon as you could, you turned your back and fully leant on the bar. You had the horrible sick feeling that you used to get when you spun around too much on the tire swing at school. But you had mastered the dizziness from pirouettes ages ago. You tried taking deep breaths in, out, in, out.

“Next group!”

“(Name).” Eungkwan said. You turned around. You were going to be fine. You quickly recounted the steps in your head. Run, meet, développé left, battement, other way same thing, leaps, pirouette, développé. You did not feel like doing the combination but nonetheless hurried to the right side of the studio, lining up with Minjee, and Seohyun.

“Five six seven eight and running.” Hey, didn’t you know this tune? It was Alexandra something…oh crap! You flitted across the stage, way too many counts behind the others.

“And turn, yes and meet them! Good, gentlemen kneel.” Eungkwan kneeled, offering you his hand. You took it, your head now feeling extremely light. “And to the line.” Eungkwan and you skipped into line beside Minjee and Jongsoo. “And développé right, and step step.”

Oh God, what were you doing? Your legs were crossing awkwardly, almost throwing you off balance. You did a weak battement and then went back to Eungkwan for the next move.

“Good and now same thing on the left.” You did the two steps better this time, and let your leg stretch out and fly up.

“Hey!” Minjee shouted. Mrs Shin stopped playing.

What? You looked around. Eungkwan was far away on your left, and you were right next to Minjee. You’d gone the wrong way.

“Sorry.” You said to her. Even though you didn’t like her, you could have kicked her in the head if you’d been just a tiny bit closer. Suddenly pain shoved violently through your head. You squeezed your eyes shut and massaged against your forehead. Couldn’t it just go away?

You opened your eyes, the pain dying down to the normal throb again. You stifled a gasp. Jimin was right in front of you, looking at down at you with concern. Once more, he was frowning. “What’s wrong?” He asked you.

“I’m fine. You said quickly.

"Your head?” He glanced at your hand still up against the forehead.

You swallowed and repeated. “I’m fine.”

Jimin raised a dark, sceptical eyebrow. Another wave of dizziness rolled through you. You swayed momentarily, the sickness returning to your stomach. “Dizzy?” Jimin asked.

You felt utterly powerless, but you still told him an 'I’m okay’.

“No, you’re not.” He said back.

You raised your chin, though you could hardly make yourself look taller than him. “I think I know when I’m okay and when I’m not, Sir.” Calling him 'sir’ seemed strange…foreign.

Jimin sighed wearily. “Untie your shoe.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Untie your shoe, Miss (Surname).”

“Why?” You asked. They were perfectly fine.

“Why not?” He countered. You confusedly sat down, wondering what on earth he was doing. Picking out the knot in the ribbons your shoe fell loose.

“Now tie it up again.” He said, gesturing to your shoe. Your head throbbed as you grabbed the ribbons.

You looked up at Jimin as you tied. “What is the point of this?”

Jimin was looking at your shoe, his eyebrows raised. He nodded to it. “To prove that.”

You glanced down. The ribbons weren’t the neat 'x’ and circle that you’d been easily doing. Instead, they were a loose, useless tangle, just like this morning. You sighed exhausted. You couldn’t tell right from left, you couldn’t remember the steps for your solo, you couldn’t keep in time with the music, you couldn’t even tie up your own pointe shoes! What the hell was wrong with you?

“Mrs Shin, would you please look after the class for a few minutes?” Jimin asked her. Mrs. Shin pushed up her glasses and smiled a yes.

Jimin looked back down to you. He offered you his hand and you tentatively took it.

Electricity suddenly shot up your hands, and Jimin and you locked eyes. There was nothing teacher-student about it. At that point, it was as if Jimin and you were together, as one. Becoming entirely equal within a single look, equal, and connected. But that was impossible. It seemed you both shared the thought, and the both of you snapped out of it.

He pulled you up and then let go as quickly as he could. He turned and was quickly at the door. For just a second, you thought he was storming out again like last time. You felt a horrible pain blossoming in your chest, but then he turned again, holding the door open for you. Hurrying past him, into the cool corridor, you yanked off your loose shoes and held them, confused and slightly, bedazzled.

Jimin leaned back into the studio for a second. “I want to see that combination perfected by the time I get back, yes?”

“Yes, sir.” You heard your classmates chorus.

He shut the door and began walking. You had to take long steps to keep up with him as he led you to the stairs.

“Where are we going?” You asked, feeling like a child.

“To Doctor Hill’s office.” He replied shortly.

“I’ll get better.” You said. The last thing you needed right now was for this Doctor Hill to deem you unfit for classes for even just a day. You could not miss another tech class, not when your solo piece was in shreds. “I don’t need to go.”

“You do.” Jimin said sharply as you reached the stairs.

“I can’t.” You said, stopping.

He turned around, looking incredulous. “Why not? You have a concussion, you have to see a doctor.”

You bit your lip, looking down at your feet. “You don’t know if I have a concussion.”

Jimin nodded, conceding. Then looked up at you. “Which is why we’re going to the doctor, to find out.”

You sighed, exasperated, and continued down the stairs silently.

The third door on the right of the stairs held the plaque:

Dr Martin Hill, Physiotherapist

Jimin knocked. “Come in.” Came a man’s voice.

Jimin opened the door and you went in. It looked like any other doctor’s surgery. A high bed with just a pale blue sheet, a couple of armchairs, several cupboards and many posters on the mint green walls.

Ballet: the Art of Arthritis.

Eating Disorders for your Échappés.

Pointe Shoes: The Danger in Pink.

The Truth about Tutus.

Ballet befriends Bulimia.

Tondues and Tendinitis.

What on Earth? Since when did posters like these end up in a ballet school?

Doctor Hill sat at a corner desk, a laptop in front of him. He turned in his chair. “Ah, Park Jimin.” he said, standing up. He wore studious horn-rimmed glasses and his neat brown beard was flecked with grey, as was his balding hair. His face was podgy and round, but not unpleasant. He was very short, though. Only a little taller than you. “Another torn muscle?” He inquired.

Jimin grimaced and shook his head. A torn muscle? That had to have put him back a few months. “Miss (Surname) has a concussion.” He said.

Doctor Hill turned to you. “Hello Miss…(Surname) is it?” You gave a half-hearted smile. He looked at you over the top of his glasses, inky black eyes scrutinizing you. “Tell me, Miss (Surname) did you do your warm ups today?”

“Yes sir.” You nodded. You’d managed to do those, at least.

He shook his head distastefully. “Warm ups are extremely dangerous.” He said. “And to do them without teacher supervision as you do in this academy is truly ridiculous.” You blushed and looked down at your hands. He waited a moment longer. “Have a seat.” You slipped gratefully into a chair. Jimin sat next to you, but made sure your shoulders didn’t touch. “So.” He began, sitting back in his own chair and crossing his legs. “How did you get this concussion?”

“I probably don’t even have one.” You told him. “Just a headache.”

He pressed his lips together in disdain. “How long have you had a headache for?”

“Since breakfast, maybe?” You tried to work out if you’d felt anything last night. You did want to get your headache away.

“Have you experienced any dizziness or nausea?”

You bit your lip. “Yes.”

He nodded slowly, writing something down on a clipboard he’d produced out of nowhere. “Have you had any trauma to the head recently?”

“No.” You told him.

“No falls, fights or so?”

You shook your head. “Nope.” The word 'fall’ sparked a memory though. Jiwoo, she’d fallen. You remembered it now, her swaying, and then crashing, crashing into…

You looked up at Doctor Hill hesitantly. “I can’t quite remember what happened, but I think I blacked out yesterday, after Jiwoo’s fall. She fell into my partner, and he lost his hold on me and I fell, but he caught me, and then.” You frowned, what had happened next?

“Wait, you were in that accident?” Jimin asked incredulously.

You nodded. Before Jimin could say anything else, Doctor Hill butted in. “Temporary memory loss is a sign of concussion. If you fell, then it’s quite likely you hit your head on the ground.”

“How serious is this?” Asked Jimin.

Doctor Hill shrugged. “As Miss (Surname) hasn’t had any further black-outs, I would say it was grade two at the most. The memory loss is a little worrying, but there is little we can do to get that back. No vomiting?” He asked looking at you.

“No.” You said.

He reached into a drawer and pulled out a torch. “Just lean forward for me.” You complied, and he shined the little torch into your left eye, then your right. Satisfied, he clicked it off and put it back in the drawer. “The strong effects of a concussion don’t last too long. Rest until Saturday at least and you should be fine.”

“You mean no ballet?” You asked sharply, though of course that was what he meant.

“None.” He said, then pointed to one of his posters. “Stay away from ballet, your life gains a year every day.”

“I can’t stay off that long.” You told him, giving a mental eye roll at the damned poster. This was exactly what you had feared. This could not happen, not before the review.

“You will, Miss (Surname) Doctor’s orders.” He gave a twisted smile. “Now I’ll go and get you a prescription of Tylenol.” He stood up and went through a door by the desk, labelled 'Staff Only.’ As soon as the door shut, Jimin turned to you.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell anyone?” He demanded. “I had no idea there was anyone other than Jiwoo and Kwangsik involved!”

You huffed. “I think a girl screaming on the floor with a broken shoulder is slightly more important.”

Jimin stared at you with disbelief. “A concussion could be just as serious.”

“But it isn’t.” You pointed out. “I’m fine. And I’m not the one in hospital.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. “This is just like with Kihyun. I couldn’t believe you didn’t tell him anything.”

“I didn’t know what it was meant to feel like! I’d never done Pas de Deux before!”

“God, everyone know it’s a responsibility to say if something’s not right!”

“What?” You snapped. “After last week I just assumed that walking out the door was how that worked.”

That stopped him short, and he glared contemptuously at the floor. Finally he looked at you. “I walked out because I realized that I had taken you way out of your depth.”

“What, you thought I wasn’t coping?”

“You could hardly cope with the simple lift Madame Zhang wanted. I saw the fear in your face. I did an over head, without any warning, with a first year. And worse, a first year who has no background in Pas de Deux or the trust or the emotion that comes with it.”

“What the hell?” You exclaimed. “So you just assumed that I was – ”

“Interesting conversations you ballet dancers have.” Doctor Hill had returned from the other room, a pill bottle in his hand. With his other hand, he pointed to another poster. Would you sacrifice mental stability for flexibility?

Worn raw with anger, you stood and stuck your hand out for the pills impatiently. “Take one every two hours, no less. Take two if it gets very bad. And remember, no ballet until Saturday. I’ll explain to your teachers.”

“Thank you, Sir.” You said mechanically, then spun on your heel and launched out of the door, eager to get away from him. Out in the entrance hall, people were heading through to dinner. Taking a deep breath to try and compose yourself, you fought against the tide of students coming down the stairs.

You had your pointe shoes in hand, and your iPod lay upstairs in your trunk. You rolled shoulders and lifted your chin.

By Sunday night, you would prove to Park Jimin that you were not an inexperienced, clueless first year.