well this looks horrible

2

may I interest you in neko-mami (ama-nyan?) and megane!amami

2

@nebraskan-metalhead, @alcibiades13, @just-one-more-bridge-to-cross, @lieshauntedmylife and @cosmicbeast tagged me to post a selfie, thanks! c;
So instead of one here you go two of me in Berlin.

I will tag: @hobbitsmind, @pasimeciau, @deth-amphetamine, @riddare-av-sorg, @avangaysia, @prideandperdition, @calithieth, @elixmia, @resist-and-bite, @bierserker, @twerkhammett, @fleshbutt-apocalypse, @deadrock-n-rollsociety, @mareavera, @mathiasismywhore, @viking-badger and @as-cold-as-her-sorrow

Ok kiddos let me explain you a thing right now:
If you are watching a video and the sound is clear, that video was staged.

You ever actually listen to the shit you record in your phone? You ever wonder why your home movies sound so terrible?

Let me let you in on a little filmmaker’s secret ok:
IF THE MICROPHONE IS MOUNTED TO THE CAMERA THEN THE AUDIO WILL PROBABLY SOUND LIKE SHIT.
IF YOU CANNOT ADJUST THE RECORDING VOLUME AT THE TIME OF RECORDING YOUR AUDIO WILL PROBABLY SOUND LIKE SHIT.

So the next time you see a video that seems horrible or awful or sweet oh what-fucking-ever, listen to it.

Cause if it looks windy and there’s no wind noise? It’s staged.

If the camera is about 20 ft from the subject yet sounds like the person is sitting right next to you? It’s staged.

Granted there are ways around this, but those require an actual crew. So if you’re watching a documentary that has an actual budget, then yeah sure it might not be staged (though that’s been known to happen in docs as well).

But if this video is being passed off as “candid” or surreptitious “phone” recording, just know it’s fake. It’s staged. There is only so much you can fix in post.

don’t sleep shouto

lockdown (jimin fic).

wow so i haven’t put anything out in fOrEver i am so so so sorry!! eonni is v rusty but i saw this prompt on pinterest and my brain went wild, i hope you enjoy it. feedback would be greatly appreciated!

elements: i tried my hand at suspense but you tell me whether or not i have succeeded please

description: the doors have suddenly locked and now you’re trapped alone at school with jimin…

word count: 3,539

Keep reading

AWARD (M)

BACKGROUND: You were the make up artist assigned to design and apply the scars on Taehyung’s back for their MAMA performance. Then things get a little heated.

AUTHORS NOTE: This picture just nearly killed me along with that damn performance. So I said I’d write a fic about it and now here it is! I know it’s nothing much but it got my feelings out for Tae quite a bit. I’ll do better next time ;) enjoy! 

Not my greatest work, but oh well :)



You force yourself to calm down, to hide the shaking of your fingers, to slow down the beat of your heart, and to bite back your unnecessary panting. Your fingers lightly press against the skin on his lower back and you immediately hear the hiss that escapes his mouth.

“Your fingers are cold.” He immediately comments. You nod your head as you dab the last few finishing touches, praying to the heavens that your ears weren’t as red as they felt. 

 "Woah, it looks so real.“ You hear Jungkook mutter behind you and you bite back a smile as you continue to work, motivated by the compliment. 

“Don’t excite me!” Taehyung whines as he angles his head to look at you. 

“Are you almost done?" 

"Yup.” You nod, doing your best to avoid his gaze. Taehyung was in colored lens again today and somehow that always seemed to stir something in you when he looked at you so intensely. 

Once you were pleased with your work, you drop your hands against your lap and study your design quietly. The scars had looked better than you had expected them to. The intricate curves had made them look like they were really a place where beautiful wings once laid on. You don’t know what had came over you or why you even did it, but you lifted your hand and traced a single line against Taehyung’s spine, fascinated by the sculptured form of his back. 

A shiver immediately runs down the boy’s body and he snaps his head back to look at you, eyes wide. Once you realized what you had done, your own eyes widen in return as you clutch your hand against your chest. 

“I’m sorry, I was just-” You bite your lower lip, feeling your cheeks flame in embarrassment “I was just checking if it was dry." 

You mentally slap yourself, knowing your lie was the most idiotic thing you could have said. The make up was on his shoulder blades yet you had your hands running down his spine. 

"Is it? Dry, I mean?” Taehyung asks, his voice deeper than usual. You swallow the lump stuck in your throat and nod, desperately searching for someone to save you from your own embarrassment. 

As if hearing your plea, Taehyung’s stylist immediately steps towards him, handing him his dress shirt and coat for the performance. 

“You should get ready.” You mumble, standing up and grabbing your equipment.

 "But Y/N, How am I gonna get this off later?“ Taehyung asks as he puts on his dress shirt, eyes trained on you. It takes all your will power to keep your eyes on his face, doing your best not to glance at his abdomen as you spoke.

"I’ll be here later, I’ll help you get the make up off.” You answer and Taehyung’s answering smile was so blinding that you had to clench your fists together to calm yourself down.

“That’s great. Thanks.” He nods and before you could humiliate yourself even more, you spin around and head for the doors, your heart slamming against your chest while your head swam with another wave of embarrassing imaginations all because of a certain

 Kim Taehyung. 



You let out a smile as you watch the last of the stylists make their ways out of the room, a fresh wave of tears streaming down their faces.

“Y/N, we’re going to place everything in the car, I think Taehyung’s the only one who hasn’t gotten dressed yet.” One stylist had told you.

“Yeah, Jimin said Taehyung & Jin are still out greeting other people.” You nod, praying to the heaven’s that they’d change their decision and say that they’d wait with you. 

 "Well, we’ll go ahead. We cant have ourselves looking this horrible for the after party. Will you be okay handling him on your own?“ 

Jesus, no. 

"Sure, you guys go ahead.” You nod, hands running through your hair as you bite back the urge to beg them to stay. Fuck your kind heart. 

Once they had shut the doors, you let out a sigh of frustration before scanning around the room. The only things left were your own equipment plus Taehyung and Jin’s things. The two boys were apparently still out talking to the other idols they had shared the stage with. 

You glance at yourself through the mirror, letting out a chuckle at the sight of your swollen eyes. When they had announced BTS as the winner, the whole waiting room had practically burst out in tears as you all watched the boys cry on stage. You remember biting back a huge smile as tears streamed down your cheeks at just how proud you were seeing them accepting the award they had long deserved. 

The sudden bang of the door has you jumping in shock as you snap your head back, finding Jin smiling apologetically at you. 

“Did we make you wait?” He mumbles, scurrying to grab his clothes from the couch. You shake your head and smile back at him.

“No, it’s fine. I was just cleaning up." 

You watch as Taehyung enters with their manager, a wide smile on his face as he rubs his hands together. 

"I kind off got carried away talking to them.”

“Of course you did.” Their manager smiles before turning to look at you “Y/N, could you stay here and help out Taehyung first? I need to help Jin find his phone. He lost it again. " 

You look back at Jin who was already shrugging on his sweater and throwing his backpack over his back. 

"I swear I had it with me earlier.” Jin frowns, waving at you before he’s jogging out of the doors. You watch in silent desperation as their manager shuffles after the oldest member, shutting the door and leaving you to your own doom.

You grit your teeth and shut your eyes before a clearing of throat has you jumping in shock. You turn to look at Taehyung who stood awkwardly by the mirrors, his eyes dancing around the room.

“So, how do I get this scar off of me?” He asks and you do your best to steady your voice as you reach for your pouch. 

“I’ll do it, turn around.” You thank the heaven’s for the fact that your voice had not cracked as you pull out wet wipes and make up removers.

Taehyung turns around obediently and you curse yourself mentally when you hear him dropping his coat and slowly unbuttoning his shirt. You force yourself to push back the unwanted thoughts that lingered at the back of your mind, knowing that you had to be professional to get your job done. All this fantasizing about Kim Taehyung was going to get you nowhere and could have even cost you your job. 

“Did you cry?” His sudden question causes you to glance up at the mirror, eyes locking with his through the reflection.

“A bit.” You smile “You guys made a lot of us cry”

“I cried a bit too.” He smiles in return, hands rubbing his arms awkwardly.

“I forgot to congratulate you though.” You mumble, head bobbing to the side “Congratulations BTS!”

Taehyung purses his lips as he bites back a smile and nods “Thank you.”

When his hands run down his abdomen, you decide it was time for you to look away unless you wanted another wave of dirty thoughts to cross your mind again. You gingerly place your hands against his lower back, not noticing the sudden clench of Taehyung’s jaws as his skin tightened under your hold. 

You start chanting “I love my job” over and over again in your head, doing your best to avoid having your mind wander as you worked. 

Once you were just about to finish, a small red dot against Taehyung’s skin has you frowning as you do your best to wipe it away. You frown at the fact that no matter how much you wiped it, the dot had stayed glued against his skin. You bite your lower lip in concentration before you use your nails to gently rake against his back, hoping it would wipe away the nuisance against his skin. 

 "Stop!“ Taehyung’s command has your hands stopping in mid air as you lift your head up to look at him through the mirror. The air leaves your lungs once your eyes lock with the boy in front of you. His gaze was dark, a slight shine of sweat running down his chest as his veins strained against his skin while his fingers clutched his legs painfully.

"Did-Did it hurt? I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“Stop biting your lips and looking at my back like that, its driving me mental.” The crack in Taehyung’s voice has a sudden wave of heat traveling down through you. You spare yourself a glance at the mirror and almost choke back a gasp when you see how hooded your eyes had become, your cheeks were red in embarrassment while your lips had become swollen and pink after being bitten on for too long. 

 "I- oh god. I’m sorry.“ You mumble nervously and before you could say anything else, Taehyung spins on his heels, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up and towards him. 

You let out a yelp as your face comes inches away from his, your heart slamming against your chest so strong and loud you were sure he could hear it. 

"And stop saying you’re sorry when I’m more than flattered to have you gawking at me like I’m fucking meal.” He smirks, head bobbing to the side. The breath that leaves your lips has your knees shaking, ready to give up on you. Taehyung immediately steadys you by placing his hands against your hips, as his eyes twinkle with mischief.

 "I’m gonna need you to say something, Y/N. Cause if I’m wrong then I just sounded like one hell of a cocky bastard just now.“ 

You were dreaming.

Of course you were, there was no way in hell Kim Taehyung was flirting with you. That just was’t humanly possible. To prove your point, you pinch your arm and suddenly let out a sound of pain at the sting. You stare at your arm wide eyed then turn to Taehyung as he takes the hurt arm from you. 

"What did you do that for?” He frowns, thumb rubbing gently against the reddening area. 

“Checking to see if this was a dream.” You mumble thoughtlessly. Taehyung lets out a low chuckle before leaning his head closer to you, his nose crinkling as he shook his head. 

“I’ll be damned if this was a dream. It’s taken me so long to actually have the balls to finally corner you like this.” He mutters, his breath dancing against your skin due to the close proximity. Your eyes unconsciously wander to his lips, watching as his tongue glides teasingly over the plump portion of his lip before it retreats back into his mouth. Your lips part in need and when you lift your eyes to lock with Taehyung’s, his lips are suddenly on yours. 

So this is what heaven tastes like. 

His grip against your waists tightens as he pulls you closer against him, his other hand placing itself on the back of your neck, as if restricting your from pulling back. You place your hands on his bare arms, lips moving perfectly in sync with his, as if he was a breath of fresh air to your lungs. 

Taehyung pulls back, gently tugging on your lower lip with his teeth as he places his forehead against yours. 

“Shit, I should have done that a long time ago.” The breathlessness of his voice has you leaning against him, arm wrapping around his neck for support as you felt your knees shaking. 

“You didn’t even know I existed back then.” You mutter, remembering the lack of conversation between the two of you ever since you had start working for BTS. 

Taehyung shakes his head, a smile forming against his lips as his fingers drum dangerously close to the hem of your shirt. “You came in that day in a red turtleneck dress paired with black boots, Y/N. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you. Yet every time I tried talking to you, you looked so damn scared to talk to me I thought you had hated me or something." 

"I didn’t” You shake your head, eyes widening at Taehyung’s words. Hated him? Far from it. You had adored Taehyung since you had laid eyes on him. The moment you had saw him smiling and laughing with Jimin, you knew you were hooked. But you knew you were nothing more than a make up artist to him and having any sort of feelings for him could have also risked your job. 

“I know.” He smiled, pushing back a strand of your hair as his thumb swiped back and forth against your chin “I discovered that when-" 

"When?” You gulp, watching him lean forward as he places a soft kiss against your chin. 

“You were asleep in one of the changing rooms last month” Another kiss lands against your throat and you angle your head back, heart hammering against your rib cage.

“I’d forgotten my phone and just as I was about to reach for it, you had moaned something so delicious to hear." 

Your mouth falls open when Taehyung bites your skin only to swipe his tongue against it apologetically. 

"And do you know how many nights I had to go off on my own, reliving you moaning my name the way you had that night?” His hands squeeze your ass and you let out a responding moan as you back arches against him. 

“That’s my girl.” Taehyung smiles against your skin “Will I be hearing more of that tonight or should I stop?" 

Always the gentleman, Kim Taehyung. 

You run your hands through his hair, your eyebrow quirking upwards before your tugging on his hair, causing Taehyung’s mouth to open in shock as a low groan escapes his mouth. If you were going to hell, then you might as well have abused it. 

Wanna hear me scream it this time?“ You had no idea where this surge of confidence had come from and you had no time to let the embarrassment of it consume you because right after two beats, Taehyung’s mouth is on yours yet again. Then after another blink of an eye, he suddenly he has your legs wrapped around him as he walks towards the long couch situated in the middle of the room.

Your lips danced against each other in a sloppy desperate kiss, wanting to devour each other as your hands roamed each others body. Taehyung takes a seat against the couch and you immediately straddle him, your hips having a mind of their own as they start rocking against him for friction. Taehyung lets out a moan so low and so delicious that you bite down on his lower lip before swiping your tongue against it. The responding groan this time has you smiling against his lips in triumph. Oh how you were going to milk out every sound out of him tonight. 

"Don’t test me, babe. You have no idea what I plan to do to you just to hear every sound that can come out from the pretty little mouth of yours.” Taehyung mumbles as he’s lifting your shirt just above your chest before pulling down your bra to release your breasts to him. 

“But they’ll be waiting for us so-” A light pinch against one of your nipples has you mewling as your body jerks in response “-that’ll have to be another time.”

He doesnt even give you the chance to respond as he takes your nipple into his mouth, his hands pinching the other bud as a loud moan escapes you and you’re arching against him. 

“Tae, please.” The sound of his name against your lips sends a flash of white against Taehyung’s eyes and he’s swiping his tongue over you before sucking again with full force. A list of profanities leave your mouth as the busy boy drops his hands before unbuckling your jeans. 

“Of all the days you chose to wear jeans, why today sweetheart." 

"I didn’t expect anybody to be fucking me today” You answer and Taehyung is growling as he pushes your jeans down along with your underwear before placing you back onto his lap, your heat landing perfectly against his clothed crotch. 

“I’m the only who’ll be fucking you ever.” He growls hands suddenly in your hair and tugging you closer to him “You understand?" 

Your lips quirk up in a smirk as your nails run lightly over his chest as you grind your hips against him, pleased to see the look of pleasure that crosses his face. 

"That depends on how you perform, Tae Tae." 

“Is that a challenge, babe? You know how much I love those.”

You had not noticed where Taehyung’s hands had traveled until you felt the light squeeze against the inside of your thigh. 

"I always wondered what you’d taste like against my mouth, i’ll just have to find out another time too.” He mumbles, fingers suddenly so close to your core that you bite on your lower lip in anticipation. 

Taehyung slides his fingers against your clit and you throw your head back, gripping his shoulders tighter, urging him to go on. The young boy smiles up at your state, fingers now sliding against your folds. Before you could even react to the slight sensation, he slips a finger inside of you, curling it before he’s pulling out only to slam back inside. 

“Fuck!” You scream, hips moving on their own accord, riding his finger as it pumped in and out of you. “You’re already so wet, babe. You’re taking my finger in so well.” Taehyung breaths, placing a chaste kiss against your open mouth, your moans filling the room. He adds another finger and you end up squeezing your eyes shut as you lean against him, your chest pressing against his. A familiar heat was pooling in your stomach as you ran your hands through Taehyung’s hair. 

 ”Tae, stop. I’m close.“ You mutter, the movement of your hips contrary to your words. 

“Now why on earth would I do that?” Taehyung places another chaste kiss against your shoulder before his hands pump in and out of you faster. You moan out his name mixed with a string of profanities as you felt the pleasure taking over you. A sudden smack against your backside has you choking out a moan as you shake your head back and forth, the pleasure becoming too intense to handle. Taehyung’s thumb starts rubbing circles against your bud and that’s when you had lost it. You scream out his name, your orgasm raking through you as Taehyung continued pumping his fingers in you, helping you ride out your orgasm till you were shivering from the over sensitivity. 

Fuck, Tae.” You breath as he pulls his fingers out of you. He lifts the two digits close to his face, his eyes suddenly twinkling at the sight of your juices coated around him. You watch in silent awe as he brings the two digits into his mouth, tongue dancing around the taste of you. You bite back another moan, the sight already enough to send you back over the edge. 

“I knew you tasted good.” He growls before his lips are on yours again, giving you a taste of yourself. You smile against him as you rake your fingers down his chest then towards his abdomen, appreciating every curve of muscle he had. Once you had felt his belt, you unbuckle the leather material immediately then pop open the button of his slacks, his hard on finally able to breath as you slowly drag the zipper over him. 

Taehyung moans against your mouth and you bite down on his lower lip as you palm him through his boxers. The beautiful boy throws his head back, eyes screwing shut as he does his best to control himself. You study the outline of veins running along his neck, fascinated by the way they strained against his skin. You dip your head down, fingers slipping past the band of his boxers and wrapping around his length as you swipe your tongue against the outline of the vein on his neck. Taehyung lets out a loud moan, his hips bucking against your hand as he runs a hand through his own hair. 

“Jesus, Y/N. How the fuck are you doing this?” He groans and you smile against his skin, pumping up and down on his length faster then suddenly flicking your thumb over the head causing Taehyung to buck harder into your hand, another string of curses dancing out of his mouth. His eyes had become so dark and hooded, devouring you with his gaze alone. You tease him by swiping your tongue against your lips causing a low growl to vibrate against the back of his throat. You were about to pump him faster but before you could even blink, Taehyung had grabbed your hands, twisting you till he was suddenly standing behind you and pushing his pants and boxers down his legs. You angle your head back to look at him, eyes widening when you see him pumping himself as he licked his lips at the sight of your behind spread out for him. He spares you one glance before a smirk graces his lips. 

“You’re dripping for me, babe.” He hums, his free hand palming your behind, the tip of his fingers running against your folds. You let out another moan, head getting lost at the amount of pleasure running through you. Never in your wildest dreams had you thought this would be happening with Taehyung. 

“Do I have to wear a condom? I really wanna feel you around me, Y/N.  I bet you’d feel fucking fantastic.” Taehyung grits his teeth, his own self control cracking at the sight of you. 

“I’m on the pill.” You immediately quip “Hurry the fuck up." 

Your eagerness made Taehyung want to tease you more. Yet he knew that as much fun at that had sound, the boy just couldn’t last a second any longer. He grabs your hips, positioning himself against your entrance, head flying back in pleasure at how your heat was already wrapping around the head of his cock. 

Taehyung!“ You all but scream and the boy did not have to be told twice as he slams into you, hilt deep. Your lewd moans echo around the room and you have you place your hand against you mouth, scared that someone was going to hear you. Taehyung throws his head back, his hand lightly running against your back, while his other hand gripped onto your hips for dear life, assuring you that you’d be bruised tomorrow. 

Move” You growl, annoyed that Taehyung was making no attempt of moving. You were about to scream at him again but the words die down in your mouth at the sudden slam of his hips against yours. You fly face first against the couch, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Taehyung keeps a steady pace. 

“Fuck, Y/n. You’re so fucking tight.” Taehyung says through gritted teeth, his eyes watching in silent awe as he slipped in and out of you perfectly. Suddenly, the distance between you two wasn’t enough and Taehyung tugs onto your hand, pulling you up as he pressed his chest against your back. Your mouth hangs open, the angle suddenly becoming all too much as he dug into you deeper each time. 

“Feel good, baby?” He hums against your ears, lips placing soft kisses against your jaw line. His fingers then make their way to your chest, massaging your breast and doubling the amount of pleasure vibrating through you. When you hadn’t answered his question, Taehyung’s hips stop moving as he smiles against you neck, your whines of protest caressing his ears. 

“Answer me, and I’ll move.“ 

What was his question again? Fuck, how was he even expecting you to be in the right mind with everything he was doing to you. 

"Yes?” You answer, unsure. Taehyung bobs his head to the side, one hand suddenly trailing down your stomach and stopping right above your heat. 

“Not sure?” He hums “Guess, I’ll have to show you how good this can get then." 

His hips slam so hard into you that you all but scream his name as his thumb starts rubbing slow circles against your clit, his other hand massaging your breast while his lips worked on marking your skin. You were seeing stars and the tightening of your stomach was becoming so intense that you knew your second orgasm was just a few moments away. 

Tae~“ You mewl and Taehyung just smiles against your skin, swiping his tongue against the purple bruise he’d just created. 

"Let go, sweetheart.” He mutters, his fingers moving faster against your bud as his pace speeds up even more. 

You had lost it.

Your mind had gone blank as a haze of white covered your eyes. Your body was shaking and your moans were already too incoherent as you dug your nails into the leather of the couch. Taehyung bites back a moan at the feel of your juices coating him, the heat and tightness of your orgasm wrapping around him. 

“I’m fuck- holy shit, Y/N.” Taehyung mutters, as he pumps into you, riding out your high. You were a mess, hair covering your face as sweat dripped down your body, your legs about ready to give up on you as you continued to moan out Taehyung’s name. The said boy, screws his eyes shut, suddenly pulling out of you as his own orgasm erupts, spilling his seeds on your back as he groans out your name. 

You all but collapse onto the couch, eyes shut as you listened to the silent rustle of Taehyung as he moved around the room. You open your eyes gingerly, chest still heaving when you suddenly feel a wet cloth rubbing against your back. You angle your head back, watching silently as Taehyung cleaned you up with the pack of wet wipes you had prepared earlier. When he catches your gaze, his signature box like grin beams up at you and as usual, you cant help your answering smile. When he was done, he lightly taps your behind and you immediately drop to the couch, body still recovering. 

 "You okay?“ Taehyung smiles, slipping on his jeans and shirt while his eyes studied your figure in appreciation. 

"Fine, just a little winded.” You mumble, reaching for your underwear and slipping it on. 

Just as the elastic band slaps against your skin, you lift your head up only to have your lips against Taehyung’s once more. The tall boy was hovering over you as he blindly reaches for your jeans, his lips never leaving yours. Just as you were about to go breathless, he pulls back and bobs his head to the side playfully. 

“I’m getting all kinds of awards today, arent I?" 

You shove him back as you laugh, slipping on your jeans as you bit back the urge to feel too ecstatic about his words. 

You watch as he slips on his coat, grabbing his phone from the table, smiling at himself before he’s turning to look back at you. 

"You look beautiful, Y/N." 

You had not expected those words to exit his mouth. In fact you had never even expected him to say that to you at all. 

Ever. 

"Don’t joke around like that, it’s not funny.” You playfully narrow your eyes at him as you grab you bag and swing it over your shoulders. You reach for your phone and just as you were about to stuff it in your back pocket, Taehyung is angling your head up to look at him. 

“Why in the world would I ever joke about that?” He mutters, voice deep as he arches an eyebrow. 

“I-I dont know.” You stutter, your nerves getting the best of you. 

“Hmm, maybe I need to teach you a lesson or two about just how beautiful you are.” He smiles, head leaning down as his lips hover close to your ears 

“Just you wait til the after party’s over. I’m gonna ravage the hell out of my award tonight.”




a/n: I suck at ending shit. Sorry ;( but yey, smutty Taehyung was fun.

If these Buffyverse characters had a child together...
What’s in France

Request: Hello! I have a request, how about reader is in love with newt, but she thinks newt loves leta(when they were in hogwarts)(and newt had been distant) which is why she lost contact with him after he got expelled. Angst!! They meet years later and turns out newt realised he loved reader when he lost her. Pls a happy ending! Im sorry if its too detailed, I’m just really excited about this one. Love u!

Word Count: 2,665

Pairing: Newt x reader

Requested by Anonymous

Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in


Newt twists in his bed, kicking the sheets from his chest and running a hand over his face. The moonlight streaks illuminate the small clock hanging crooked on the room’s wall. 2:53. Groaning, he flips onto his stomach, coming face to face with a picture of you breaking into a shy smile.

The familiar tears prick his eyes as he watches it happen over and over, falling back asleep and into a restless dream of you smiling.


“Are you sure you don’t want to come? It’ll be fun. Come on, we can go to The Three Broomsticks and split a glass of butterbeer like we used to.”

“I have too much studying to do.”

You groan and fall onto the couch next to your friend. “Newt, we haven’t had time to hang out in ages.” You deepen your voice to sound like his. “It’s always ‘I’m studying’ or ‘I have to write notes.’ Why don’t you take one break to go with me?”

Newt tears his eyes from the book in front of him, smile forming on his lips. “I’m busy. I need to pass this next potions exam. We’ll go next month, I promise.”

“Newt.” You whine, drawing out his name until he raises his eyebrows at you in false annoyance.

“Fine. You win.”

Keep reading

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.