you and your earnest little face

{PART 24} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Despite everything that has gone wrong for you; you feel like life might start to have a better outlook as Jungkook takes all measures to keep you safe. However, a storm is coming; one that grips and pulls at the strongest winter coat…before you find yourself making the biggest mistake of your life to date.

“The lull, or the calm before the storm took it’s place in the atmosphere, in both of their hearts and their minds. ‘Tread carefully’ he warned her, but she slipped from his grasp the moment he blinked”

Not rated M, but be warned there are some scenes of a suggestive sexual nature.

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time) 

{Part 1} // {Part 23} {Part 24} {Part 25}

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Yours, Castiel

Anon Request: Could you do a Reader x Cas where Cas makes creative use of one of his feathers?

Word Count: a little over 2k

Warnings: this is some CHEESY SHIT, FAM. also there’s some language. but basically just a fluff overload.

Originally posted by yaelstiel

You slowly walked into the map room and rubbed your eyes, still weary from sleep. You were surprised when you opened them and saw Castiel sitting at the table, furiously writing something with…a feather?

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Krasivaya-Chapter 8

Summary: You and Bucky Barnes have been friends for years. You are deeply, completely, in love with the super soldier, but he sees you as nothing more than a little sister. What happens when Bucky starts to date in earnest?

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Bucky x OFC

Warnings: Smut, Angst, Self-Esteem issues, Depression?, Anxiety.

Bruno Mars-Just the way you are

Exiting the gym, needing to pack and have a good cry before spending way too much time confined with Bucky, you turn a corner and see Steve.

He wastes no time in hauling you off your feet and slinging you over his shoulder. It’s clear he’s mad at you, the tightness of his shoulders and tense set of his jaw giving him away. “What the hell was that, doll?” he grits out.

Shame coats your insides, replaced quickly by anger. “Put me down you child!” Wriggling to escape his grasp is a fruitless endeavor, you know this. The man pulled a helicopter out of the air for heaven sake! There was no way you could escape him, but you were still going to try.

“Stop moving!” he grunts, his hand comes down in arc landing a solid hit your ass.

The stinging makes you gasp. “What the hell, Steven!” you yell, face red from embarrassment. There are Agents lingering in the halls of the compound.You can hear the snickering and suggestive remarks. This little incident was going to be fodder for the gossipmongers within minutes. You were surprised no one was taking video. Fueled by your embarrassment, you start to fight in earnest, pounding and scratching at his back, doing your best impression of a pissed off chinchilla.

He grunts once, wrapping a muscled arm around your flailing legs to stop you from kicking. “If you don stop, doll, I’m gonna put you over my knee and spank you blue,” he grumbles in warning.

You deflate, laying limp over his shoulder as he takes you to your bedroom. You aren’t looking forward to the myriad of rumors you’ll have to face when you get back. Immortal Mutant foiled by Captain America, you think, snorting out loud as Steve kicks open the door to your bedroom.

Striding forward, he deposits you unceremoniously on your bed. “Start talkin’.” He crosses his arms over his chest, slipping effortlessly into Captain America mode.

You groan and roll your eyes, scrambling underneath your blankets, pulling them over your head “Go away!” you yell petulantly.

He sighs and tries to yank the blankets off of you. A tug of war ensues, accompanied by hissing and swearing and pained grunts as you land kicks to Steve’s stomach. Fed up he growls once before ripping the blanket straight down the middle. Dragging you down the bed by your ankles, he yells, “Stop acting like a child! I said start talking!”

Clamping your mouth shut, you peer up at him stubbornly, refusing to give an inch.

“(Y/N) I swear to God almighty if you don’ start talkin’ I’m gonna do somethin you’re gonna regret.”

You cover your face with your hands, sighing. “Don’t make me, Steve.”

He scoffs “Talk. What’s this not good enough bullshit? I want an explanation, now!”

You sneak a look at him through your fingers.

He’s red in the face, barely concealing the anger and hurt inside him.

Well fucking done (Y/N). You can add another name to the list of all the people your miserable existence has affected negatively.

Sitting upright, trying to pull your ankles out of his grasp, your cast your eyes downward. “It’s true,” you sigh, “don’t try and tell me otherwise, Cap. Do we really need to do this now? I just want to take a shower, pack, and maybe cuddle a bit?” You cast puppy eyes at him, making sure to bite your bottom lip in the process. Cap is a sucker for cute, rarely saying no when you turn on the charm.

He falters, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth before he huffs, “Dammit, (Y/N)!”

You know you’ve won. Grinning broadly, you sit on your haunches, batting your eyelashes for effect. “Can I shower please? You can get a head start on the packing?” your voice is sickly sweet.

He’s nodding before he can stop himself, the Captain America facade slipping entirely, replaced by the Steve you would take a bullet for. “Fine. Shower, but this conversation isn’t over.” He tries his best to be stern, but you can see him fail. The hard Captain America shell hid such a gooey Steve center!

Bounding off the bed, grinning cheekily over your shoulder, you toss him wink. “We both know I won this round, Stevie.” You hurry into the bathroom, locking the door behind you as the indignant protest of Steve reaches your ears.

Twenty minutes later you exit the bathroom. Spying your bags packed, along with a duffle full of miscellaneous weapons sitting on top of the others, you frown. “I don’t use weapons, Steve. I don’t need them.”

He looks slightly sheepish. “I just want ya to be safe, doll. I don like it when you run into battle without a stitch of protection.”

Your frown deepens. “Steve, they weigh me down. I really don’t need them. I can strip the skin off bone in less than five seconds with my mind. What am I gonna do with a gun?” You peer at the topmost offending object and gasp, “Is that..Is that a grenade launcher?” Whirling, you face Steve.

He’s rubbing at the back of his neck in embarrassment. “You can never be too careful, doll.”

You bark out a laugh and launch yourself at him, engulfing him in a bone crushing hug. “What did I do to deserve a friend like you, Stevie?” you mumble into his chest.

He strokes at your hair affectionately. “You exist, darlin’. That’s all it takes,” he states simply.

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anonymous asked:

hannigram fluff prompt: separation anxiety?

Will rolled over and sighed. Lonesome. It was a surprisingly unfamiliar feeling given how much time he spent alone, and he could pinpoint the exact moment he first felt it. Parting with Hannibal in the hospital parking lot week’s previous, he’d been struck with a gentle pang of stay, or ask me to come with you. He went home to his dogs that night and fell asleep in a tangle of fur, longing for Hannibal’s company.

Now, he reached for his phone in the dark of his motel room and squinted against the light of the screen. He tapped Dr. Hannibal Lecter in his list of recent calls and put the phone on speaker as it rang.

“Will?” Hannibal’s voice on the other end was laden with sleep. “Is everything alright?”

Will glanced at the clock. Just past 2am. “Sorry. I’m alright. Did I wake you?”

“You did, but it’s no bother. What can I do for you?”

Will blushed and covered his face with his hands. “I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

Hannibal’s voice projected his smile. “Certainly you called for a reason. I assure you Will, you’re safe to share with me.”

“I guess I just…” Will placed the phone on his pillow, curling his body toward it. “I’m feeling a little lonesome.”

“Is that so?”

“It’s not a feeling that I’m used to.”

“Missing your pack perhaps?”

Will laughed. “I always miss them when I’m away, Uh… no. I don’t think it’s them that I’m missing.”

Shit. He was met with silence on the other end, the sound of Hannibal’s breath ceasing. Then, just when he began to worry that the call had dropped, Hannibal said, “Who is it that you’re missing?”

Will’s face burned in earnest. He closed his eyes and grinned, hiding his face as if it would matter. “You,” he said. “I miss you, Dr. Lecter.”

Hannibal’s breathing grew audible on the other end. “When will you be arriving back home, may I ask?”

“Uh, tomorrow. Hopefully tomorrow.”

“Would you care to join me for dinner?”

“That would be nice,” he said, fighting to keep his voice from shaking. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, may I suggest you get some rest?”

Will sighed. “Of course. Thank you, Dr. Lecter. And sorry again for waking you.”

“I’m glad that you did,” Hannibal said. “I’ve been quite lonesome for your company as well.”

Will’s heart hammered in his chest. He wondered if Hannibal could hear it. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“And I you. I’m looking forward to it very much. Goodnight, Will.”

“Goodnight, Dr. Lecter.”

Will ended the call and sprawled out on his back, staring at the dark ceiling, blushing and smiling.


[hannigram fluff therapy] | [tip jar]

Steady Breathing | M

Originally posted by bobhwa

Summary: There’s not much point in Lisa trying to keep things from you, especially when it’s her crush on you that’s she’s trying to hide.

Word Count: 6,803

Whenever Lisa wants something, really wants it for herself and no one else, she’s stubbornly obtuse about it in the most obvious sort of way. As her best friend, you know this better than anyone else.

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FIC: all good things need sunshine

A slow day had crept up on the flower shop. Kirishima skimmed over his textbook, brows trying to bridge the gap for his philosophy paper. The bell signalling a customer jingled. Kirishima flipped a page, dog-earing the corner.

A hand came slamming on the counter top, and all of Kirishima’s skin tried to leap off his body.

“How do I say fuck you with flowers?” the customer said.

“Oh, my god,” Kirishima said.

inspirationAO3

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Chocobros + Nyx | Favorite Vehicles HC

Tagging @glaive-eve, @vashiane@drpepper280 for helping, especially with Ignis and Gladio 💕 

Noctis | Audi R8 Star of Lucis - Spyder Model

Was there ever any question as to what Noctis’ car would be? As much as he loves the Regalia, it’s not the same when the R8 boasts a V10 engine that can hit 0 to 60 in 3.2 seconds with a top speed of 205mph, almost triple that of the Regalia.

The first time Noct picks you up in his convertible R8 Spyder you raise a skeptical brow at him. It’s impractical (only seats 2, no hard roof), it’s loud (man does that engine roar) and to top it off, it’s ostentatious (the sleek supercar sticks out like a sore thumb, even in downtown Insomnia). The car is the exact opposite of your Prince. 

But boy does he love this car. When you first get in, you’re hesitant, but the moment Noct grins wickedly at you –  an expression you rarely see – and revs the engine, something within you snaps. His cocksure smirk along with the hard vibrations of the V10 does something delicious to you; your thighs already squirming together in anticipation. 

Once you’re out of Insomnia and on open roads, the car comes to life, roaring across the plains. Noctis shifts through the gears seamlessly, the look of sheer concentration and wicked delight on his face is something you’d never forget. 

Top down, wind in your hair as you take in the beautiful scenery under the starlit sky, you begin to appreciate the Prince’s impractical choice in cars. But what you really love about the car, is this other side it brings out of Noct.

Usually quiet and reserved, the car seems to bring about his more untamed self. He’s more open with you, a little more talkative, a little more mischievous, something you used to only see when he interacts with his closest friends.

Right when you reach your destination, a lonely plateau in Duscae overlooking nothing but wilderness, Noct is on you. His hands, lips, body. Before you know it he’s pulled you roughly on to his lap. You’re straddling his hard length as he desperately tries to undo your jeans with an eagerness that sends a jolt of desire straight to your core.

There is a certain intoxicating exhilaration in riding the Prince of Lucis into a shuddering orgasm out in the open wilderness.

At the end of the night, you’re convinced you love the car almost as much as Noct does. The next time he picks you up, you’re properly dressed, flowy skirt sans undergarments. 

Prompto | tokyobike Classic Sport Bicycle

Prompto is all about animals and exercise, so you’re not surprised that his choice mode of transportation is by bicycle (Why pollute when you can exercise and help the environment in one fell swoop?). It’s quite minimalistic and really only seats one. When he arrives, brow damp with sweat, slightly out of breath and little bike bell going “ring-a-ding-ding,” you can’t help but think a) how adorable he looks pedaling up to you and b) how the hell were you and the picnic basket were going to fit?

“Hey! Sorry to keep you waiting,” he says as he proudly pulls out a single tulip for you (Where had he even been hiding that?!). You’re flattered, but what makes your heart flutter is the expression on his face as he hands it to you - open, earnest, and happy; happy to see your smile grow at his small gesture. 

After a few minutes of fidgeting, somehow Prompto manages to strap the basket on to the back of his bicycle and somehow you manage to sit sideways along the bar in front of him. It’s not comfortable by any means, but being trapped between Prompto’s arms, his breath hot against your ear, as he pedals to your destination more than makes up for the slight discomfort. 

So off you both go, on a wobbly start. The journey takes a little longer than usual and you feel a little guilty that Prompto’s carrying all the weight, but he wont switch with you, no matter how much you insist. “It’s good exercise!” he chirps cheerily as he continues to pedal. 

By the time you arrive at the park, Prompto’s drenched in sweat, but you don’t care. You’re flustered and a little impatient from having his hot breath against your neck the whole ride. You pull him by the collar for a kiss. Surprised, he sputters a “W-wow,” face tinged with a pretty blush as he leans in for another.

The picnic lies forgotten. You need him, now. A little sweat never bothered you anyways. 

Gladiolus | Mercedes-Benz G65 SUV

When Gladiolus pulls up next to you in his tank of a car, you almost burst out laughing because, of course he’d drive a Mercedes G65. Between the car and his smug, “Hop in, baby girl,” you’re not sure if you want to hide or melt. Fifteen minutes into the ride, you realize that the former was probably the better choice.

As you grip onto the door for your dear life, the only thought that runs through your head is “Gladio drives like a freaking maniac!” When he had asked you to go on an “adventure” this was not what you had in mind. Traffic signals? Who needs them. Roads? Those are for the weak. Animals and/or pedestrians? Road kill. Seriously though, as much as you love this man, there’s no way in hell he’s driving you anywhere ever again.

Unsurprisingly, you arrive at your destination deep in the Nebulawood in record time (“The roads are too out of the way, it’s faster if we just cut through.”) Gladio feels a little guilty at how pallid your skin appears so he lets you rest in the car as he sets up camp. When you’ve recovered enough to join him, you’re surprised to find Gladio dozing off in a folding chair, his book hanging dangerously off his lap. Good, you think, because he’s not getting any sleep tonight.

You attempt to wake him with a surprise, but his amber eyes open before you could get started and the next thing you know he has you pinned against the tree with your hands restrained above you. Smirking, he says, “I was in a rush to get us here so we’d have a little extra time together for the nice dinner I planned out…and maybe something more. But if you want to skip ahead, I’m more than happy to indulge you.”

As he hooks your legs around his waist, grinding his length into your core, all you could think was, Screw dinner, I’m having you tonight.

Ignis | He’s blind, he doesn’t drive Volvo S90 Sedan

If ever asked, perfect is the one word you’d use to describe Ignis. Perfectly coiffed hair, perfectly pressed shirt, perfectly refined eloquence, perfectly perfect. His car, of course, while understated and much more practical compared to that of his friends, is also perfectly Ignis.

Without the need for speed or off-roading, the Volvo S90 is indeed the perfect car for Ignis. It’s understated and classy with its beige leather and pine wood accent, equipped with state-of-the-art touchscreen technology, loaded with more options than you would ever need, but essential  for the adviser to the Prince.

When you get in the car, classical music from the Insomnia Philharmonic is already gently playing from its superb speakers. Ignis hums quietly along, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the piece. Between that and Ignis’ smooth driving you’re quickly lulled into a peaceful slumber.

Upon arrival at Cape Caem, Ignis wakes you with a gentle, “Kitten, we’ve arrived,” holding out his hand to help you from the vehicle as he wraps a cashmere throw around your shoulders to keep you warm.

Once you’ve made your way down to the beach, you spend the next few minutes watching the sunset with his arms wrapped around you. It is so perfect you feel like you could die…if not for your grumbling stomach. You tense at the sound it makes, hoping Ignis doesn’t notice, but relax as Ignis snaps his fingers and mumbles, “I knew I forgot something.”

A decidedly unlady-like snort escapes you as you turn around to kiss him. Ignis wasn’t perfect all the time, but he was perfect for you.

Nyx | BMW R nine T Pure Motorcycle 

You almost kick Nyx off his ride the first time he “picks you up” because that’s exactly what he tries to do – holler at you as if you were a two-bit whore. He stops his bike (albeit impressively) one foot away from you and whistles loudly, catcalling as if you were a piece of meat. With his face obscured by his helmet, you almost knock the offending asshole onto the ground until you notice that his leather jacket is suspiciously familiar and that those boots were definitely Kingsglaive issued.

As Nyx removes his helmet, shaking his braids free and running his hand through his hair, you are torn between throttling him and taking him now. If you thought you had it bad before, boy are you in for a rude awakening. He’s clad in all black: cotton V-neck shirt underneath worn leather jacket, leather gloves over calloused hands and, the best part, tight jeans that show off the thickness of his thighs…among other things. 

"Get on,” he orders as he throws you a helmet. You let him boss you around, just this once (Who are you kidding? You secretly love it when he’s demanding), because you’re just as impatient as him to have your arms around him. Once you’re on and situated, he doesn’t wait to take off, swerving in and out of traffic fifty above the speed limit. Your only option is to hold on to him for your dear life, and when he chuckles at the tightening of your embrace as he speeds all the faster, you know this asshole planned this all along.

But you can’t complain, not really. It’s an easy excuse to enjoy the burning heat of his body, the hard planes of his chest, and the sweet intoxicating musk of his scent – fire, sweat, and cedar mixed into something uniquely Nyx.

Once you’re past city limits and feeling brave enough, you throw your arms up in the air, exalting in the feeling of freedom and adrenaline as Nyx carries you off into the dusk. Being the cheeky bastard that he is, Nyx suddenly brakes causing you to let out a scream as your chest slams against his back and your hands slam down in panic, grasping the closest thing in reach. He laughs so loudly, you can feel the rumble of his chest against yours, as he says, “If you’re that eager, I have no problem making you scream again, right here, right now.”

Your first thought is, “WHAT?” and your second is, “Oh. Oh…” when you realize you’re grasping the junctures of his thighs, fingers brushing the inner parts (where he’s most sensitive) and the growing bulge of his erection. You grow silent as you hotly blush, unsure of how to respond because wow, this is moving all too fast for you.

Nyx chuckles, for the second time today, at your expense and says teasingly, “Don’t worry. I don’t put out on the first date.”

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Quiet (Reader x Cor Leonis)

A/N: its been awhile crocodile. i listened to this while i wrote

★★★★★ 

Originally posted by devils-drop

Cor Leonis was absolutely sure that nothing in his life had prepared him for this moment. Was there even a way to soften such a blow? He had a feeling that even if there was, all the training and hard work would have been useless anyway.

As soon as you stepped around the corner and smiled at him, Cor knew. He had feelings for you and it was—something.

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sippingchai  asked:

2, 117 ☺️

2. “How long have you been standing there?”

117. “Can I do your hair?”


Shawn isn’t quite lurking, he’s not intending to be sneaky, but he is standing just off to the side of your bathroom doorway; watching you as you go about your morning routine.

He’s finally home. Home for the first time in way too long - two months this time - and he’s taking advantage of every little chance there is to soak you in. Last night it was him pulling you into his lap on the couch as the two of you caught up on all the shows you’d been waiting to watch together as he held you tight, his hands against your belly and your back against his chest. After that it was his hand reaching for yours beneath the covers, lacing fingers together in a firm grip and skating the pad of his thumb over your knuckles until you drifted off to sleep.

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A little bit yours

Dean isn’t about to let Cas stay in the war room all night researching. Not after everything they went through today and all the hits Cas took. He manages to get him to migrate from the war room to Sam’s room with the smell of the pizza Sam picked up for dinner. Sam bitches about the smell of pizza never leaving his room, but he lets them stay and eat it. The three of them watch an episode of the Crown (Sam’s choice tonight), Dean lounging on the bed with Cas sitting quietly beside him and Sam folded into a chair beside the bed.

When the episode is over, Sam kicks them out so he can sleep, shoving the empty pizza box into Dean’s hands as he closes the door behind them.

Dean stomps toward the kitchen with the pizza box and Cas accompanies him, eyelids drooping. Dean throws the box on the table and then stomps toward his bedroom. Cas accompanies him there too, shuffling by his side right up to the door.

Dean is torn. Cas looks so helpless and tired, and something in him needs Cas to be okay, to be better. He wants to tell Cas to claim one of the bedrooms and sleep it off, but he doesn’t. He just shoulders his bedroom door open and lets Cas dither in the hallway.

“Dean,” Cas says, like he’s suddenly afraid.

Dean looks back in surprise.

Cas keeps going, but Dean isn’t prepared for what he says next.

“Why don’t you trust me,” Cas says.

Dean stands there for a second and then opens the door the rest of the way.

“Get in,” he says, and steps aside.

Cas does.

………………..

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anonymous asked:

Everyone's talking about Jared's Fruit Salad in the Gold Panel, but I thought the song Jensen finally settled on because it was "the first one I ever played her" was interesting too, especially that he then even quoted some of the lyrics. "If I had a million I would build you a mansion, a hundred miles from nowhere [here the song goes “with all a girl could need”, but Jensen skips that] and ah, dance in the hallways, ah, what was it... we ain't got no neighbors, there ain't no one to see(!)"

Hello, dear anon!

I finally had the time to watch the gold panel and I couldn’t agree with you more. Just look at Jared and his earnest face when Jensen is quoting the song! (vid)

(Really interesting how he skips the “girl” part, huh?)

Just a little observation here, but do you see the similarity between this wink…

… and this wink?

The gif above is from ChiCon where Jensen got all emotional and teary-eyed about his and Jared’s relationship and Jared got rather affected by it. Yeah, I think I’m going to go wild and say that the song wasn’t played to D, but to Jared instead. 

Well, that’s my headcanon anyway! Thanks for the message, sweet anon. I hope your weekend is going well!

22| Pas De Deux

Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Genre: Ballet au, Romance, Angst
Warnings: None
Wordcount: 5784

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The dining hall was buzzing with excited nerves. At each table, people were huddled, giving furtive looks at their enemy classes, talking hurriedly. The teachers sat at their long table on the dais, looking calm and demure. But with a second look, you realized Madame Choi was talking with a smirk to Master Kang, who talked back with an equally evil smile, not letting her words get to him.

“I can’t believe it’s today!” Hyeun squeaked next to you. You tried to smile. “We are gonna be so good! We’re gonna blow Master Kang’s class way off the ranks.”

“We might.” Yuna agreed. “Unless they don’t have anything else up their sleeves.”

Hyeun grinned. “We’ve got (Name) up our sleeves.”

You felt sick. From this very morning they hadn’t talked about anything else than the review. You would’ve of course have joined them. If only you were actually allowed to dance.

“Good luck, girls.” The serving lady said with a smile as she handed you your bowls of porridge. It seemed that everyone was excited. Everyone but you.

You got out of the line, and were heading for your class’s table when you felt eyes on you. Dawon, Jin, Taehyung, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok sat at their table, looking at you earnestly. Oh God. You turned to Yuna and Hyeun. “Guys, I’ll come in a sec; I just have to do something.”

“‘kay.” said Yuna. Hyeun’s face fell a little.

'You don’t even join in with your class; you go hang out with the seniors.’

Minjee was right, but you doubted you’d ever hang out with Dawon and everyone again.

Nervously, you went over.

“Hey.” You said quietly. Well, maybe you wasn’t the only one who didn’t seem excited. They all looked drawn and tired. You perched on the edge of an empty seat. You looked to Taehyung and Yoongi. “I’m so sorry about last night.”

They exchanged a glance. Taehyung leaned forward, his eyes earnest. “(Name), why didn’t you tell my parents what really happened?”

“That bitch deserves all that she would’ve gotten."Yoongi added.

"I know.” You said. “My whole class would get involved…I just couldn’t.”

“Then they all deserve it, (Name).” Said Taehyung, as if you couldn’t understand.

You sighed, keeping your tears in check. How could you explain it to them? How could you make them understand?

“It’s just that if I told Master Jinho, then my class would have been divided again.” You looked at them helplessly.

“(Name).” Namjoon began.

“And you can’t have a divided class before the review.” Dawon cut in. You looked at her. She was nodding. “I get it. Whatever they did, you still have to function as a class. You won’t win tonight if you all hate each other.”

“That’s what I meant.” You said quietly.

Taehyung still looked unconvinced, his lips pursed broodingly. But the rest seemed to be considering it. “(Name), Minjee at least deserves to get punished in some way.” Taehyung mumbled,  his sharp brown eyes furrowed with determination. “We saw your face yesterday morning. She made you miserable.”

“I know.” You said. “But she knows she can’t do it again. And with what you guys did, and with.” You bit your lip. “With what Jimin did, that was punishment enough. She’s been embarrassed enough to know not to try anything like that again.”

“Jimin?"Jungkook mumbled disappointed at the mention of his name. "What did that jackass do?”

“He just talked to them about it.” You told him, wishing you hadn’t said anything in the first place.

“He’s not a jackass, Kook.” Jin said tiredly. “It’s the US Ballet. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

Jungkook made a face. “It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity whenever Shinn Taeil chooses.”

“Whenever she sleeps with Frank Rebrevae.”  Hoseok agreed.

Dawon shrugged. “But Jimin still didn’t have a choice, did he?”

“He would have had another chance; he had that audition in a few months anyway.” Namjoon scoffed. “It’s just because he wanted to get away from – ” He cut off, looking right at you.

You felt a pang of pain surge forward again. So he’d left because of you? Because he’d known what you thought felt him. Because you were messing things up for him, when you’d spied on him when he’d been rehearsing. When you kept annoying Taeyeon, when you’d distracted him in class with Kihyun or with your concussion.

You’d made him leave…

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, standing up.

Dawon grabbed your hand. “(Name), that’s not true. He left because it was a good opportunity – ”

You shook your head. “No, it is because of me. I made things difficult for him.”

She huffed. “Maybe, (Name), but not for the reasons you’re thinking of.”

This was too much. You couldn’t cope with this all again. Clearly the delusion wasn’t over. You picked up your bowl, tugging your hand from her grasp.

“You’re wrong, Dawon, Jimin explained it to me yesterday.” You took a deep breath. “Good luck with the review.” Then you turned and walked away, the sick feeling mounting up once again. Everything was crumbling. First your damned delusion,  Jimin himself, then your solo and now his friends. There was just one more part of your life at Amour which had yet to turn against you.

At your class’s table, you were greeted with smiles. Smiles on the one day where you didn’t deserve them.

“Hey (Name).” Kihyun spoke as you sat down. “What was last night about?”

“Yeah.” Hyeun added. “Master Jinho looked pretty pissed.”

“I’ll tell you when we get to class.” You said, trying to force nonchalance into your voice. Minjee, who was once again in her usual spot beside Seohyun, raised her eyebrow. You averted your gaze, hoping she wouldn’t say anything.

“I can’t wait for the other schools to get here.” Yuna said perkily. “Show 'em what we’re made of.”

“Yeah, we’ll deflate the US Ballet Academy’s massive egos.” Jongsoo spoke confidently with a smirk. “Just 'cause they’re 'a national academy’.”

“And JYP, YG and SM is meant to be pretty stuck up, too.” Kwangsik put in.

Yuna laughed. “'Cause here at Amour we’re such a modest bunch, huh?”

It was then that Master Jinho stood up from his table and came to stand at the front of the dais where a cherry wood lectern had been placed.  Master Jinho’s eyes twinkled in the lights from the chandeliers as he looked out at the hall with a slight smile. It didn’t seem as reassuring as it had been on the first night he had stood up. Last night’s meeting with him had changed all that. Your mind tugged and toiled, wanting to find fault with him, but you understood why he had banned you from the review. You had danced when you’d been injured, and, to the best of his knowledge, you’d also bullied a fellow student.

“Good Morning, school.” He said once everyone had become silent. “In less than ten hours time, you will be on the stage of Amour de la Beauté.” Yuna straightened up beside you.

Master Jinho continued. “Soon, we will get into the programme of the day, but before that, I have a quick announcement to make.” His face turned a little grim. “Two of our honour students, Park Jimin and Taeyeon, have been offered an audition and almost certain spot in the United State’s Ballet’s Nutcracker. This is a very great achievement which we will applaud them for when they return, but for the moment this is just to say that they will not be competing today, and consequently Kim Seokjin and Jung Dawon will be taking their places in the Grand Pas de Deux section of the Review.”

“Lucky bastards.” Dongwon whispered to Kihyun.

“Oh my God.” Yuna exclaimed. “The US Ballet!”

You noticed a few seniors sitting at a table in front of yours give each other glum looks. They’d lost two of their best dancers. At least your class had unwillingly created an alternative dance routine. At her table, Dawon put a hand to her cheek, shutting her eyes. You had been right yesterday – She had far more right to be upset than you.

“Moving on.” Master Jinho silencing us once again. “The day will begin with warm up and barre in your tech classes as usual. Any class disobeying this rule for extra rehearsal time will immediately be pulled from the Review. Also we will not tolerate any risk when it regards your physical health.” His eyes came to rest on you for a split second. You looked down quickly, too ashamed and conflicted to face him.

“Rehearsals will commence at ten and will continue until one, when we will break for an hour for lunch, then return to rehearsals. At five, all those who are not performing in the Review will report to Master Hwan.”

Wonderful. You couldn’t even watch your class. Though maybe they wouldn’t want you there.

“For everyone else, rehearsals will go on until about six, when the other schools arrive. Everyone will proceed to the dressing rooms backstage for hair and makeup – students are not to be seen in the theatre or the corridors. The opening speeches will be made ten minuets to eight. Performances will open with Madame Choi’s first year class at approximately eight.”

Master Jinho took a glance around the hall, letting the words sink in. “After the Review, which we expect to last up to three hours, there will be the traditional dinner in the Dining Hall where the winners will be announced. I doubt I need to remind you of the importance of this review. There will be powerful people in that audience who will be making judgements which could ultimately decide whether you get into their companies or not. Reputation is everything. And reviews like these will make or break your reputations. Understood?” Master Jinho gave his school one last look.

“You are all good dancers, you know that. Remember good things come to those who believe, better things come to those who are patient and the best things come to those who work hard and dosen’t give up. Believe in yourselves, because we at Amour believe in you.”

He then went to sit back down, and Master Hwan came up and began to talk about uniform requirements and rules.

Yuna leant over to you. “Apparently Master Jinho always says that before performances.” She whispered. “Kind of a Amour tradition.”

You nodded, staring at the school coat of arms. Believe, better things come to those who are patient and the best things come to those who work hard and dosen’t give up. Well maybe that was true, but you felt neither. You really did believe. You had worked hard, you hadn’t given up and you had been patient, but in the end nothing worked out. You felt weak and pathetic, torn down by the events of today and yesterday. But maybe that was just life…

“…And must I remind you that all earrings are to be taken off before going on stage?” Master Hwan was saying, mopping his brow. “Right, school dismissed.”

“Oh my God!” Yuna squeaked as you all got up and grabbed your plates. “I can’t believe it’s today!”

“I know.” You said quietly.

“Hey, cheer up, (Name).” She said as you dropped your plates off at the window. “You’re gonna be amazing!”

“I know.” Hyeun agreed tagging along. “When you danced yesterday I was like 'jeez, she’s good.’”

Oh you felt awful.

You reached your studio. Without any of the normal messing around, everyone was putting their shoes on and warming up.

Madame Choi and Mister Ghim came in earlier than usual. Everyone half got up to bow and curtsy, but instead of striding to the front of the class as she usually did, she stayed near the door. “Miss (Surname).” She said, gesturing for you. Yuna gave you a puzzled look as you stood up.

Madame Choi looked tired. Her tight bun wasn’t as regal as yesterday. Her eyes looked a little baggy. But she still stood tall, like the fearsome teacher you now knew her as.

“I’m so sorry, ma'am.” You said quietly, not even sure which offence to apologize for; doing it in the first place or getting found out? “I didn’t mean for this to – ”

“Save it, Miss (Surname).” She said calmly. “What you did, you did with my full consent, and I certainly do not blame you, seeing what you created.” She shook her head. “I assure you that I have tried my best to win back your solo, but the Headmaster has stringent rules about this sort of thing.”

“Did you get in trouble, ma'am?” You asked her.

She smiled. “No more than I can manage, Miss (Surname). It was worth it. Many people will not see that solo, but I will always remember it.”

Your heart warmed for a second. “Thank you m – ”

“Now.” She said, straight back into business. “Do you want to tell them or shall I?”

You glanced behind her to your class’s reflection in the mirror. A few of them were looking at you, but most were stretching or talking quietly. You looked back to Madame Choi. “They’ve heard the wrong stories way too many times. I’ll tell them.”

She nodded. “Good girl.” She turned to the class and clapped her hands, “Silence! Miss (Surname) has an announcement to make before we begin.”

You stood at the front, your fingers twisting around each other. Yuna and Hyeun were both staring at you confused. Kihyun and Jongsoo were both slouched disinterested, while Minjee stood leaning against the barre at the back, smirking at you.

You took a deep breath. “Last night. When Master Jinho called me to his office, he told me that he’d found out about how I’d been dancing while I’d been injured and that.” You swallowed. “I’m not allowed to dance in the Review tonight.”

They stared at you. You bit hard on the insides of your cheeks.

“What. The. Hell?” Seohyun said eventually. “You can’t be serious.”

“We perform tonight.” Jongsoo spoke angrily glaring at you.

“I’m really sorry.” You said pathetically.

“No you’re not.” Seohyun snapped. “How many times have you done this to us now?”

Madame Choi, standing by the wall, caught your eye concerned. You gave a slight shake of your head. You couldn’t hide behind her. You needed them to yell and scream at you. She nodded, but you could tell she wouldn’t let it get too far.

“You don’t give a crap about this class.” Kihyun was next. “You don’t care about being part of a team. You just go making your own rules, dipping in and out of your solo depending on how you feel, rehearsing when you want to. Maybe you couldn’t control it the first time, with your concussion, but you could have just accepted that you weren’t gonna be dancing the solo.”

“Yeah.” Dongwon nodded unhappily. “You didn’t need to go ask for it back and screw it all up again.”

“This is really bad.” Hyeun groaned. At least it wasn’t exactly directed at you.

“We’re never going to win.” Kwangsik muttered.

“Oh stop being such emo’s.” Minjee suddenly snapped, pushing off from the barre. “Her solo wasn’t that amazing in the first place and we have another dance already – one which we’ve been rehearsing for just as long.”

“(Name) was good, though.” Yuna. “Maybe we could all go and see Master Jinho.”

Minjee glared at her. “Grow up, Yuna. Whatever your opinion is, she’s not doing it. So instead of moping around and saying we’re screwed, why don’t we actually do some ballet, huh?”

“She’s right.” Hyeun murmured. “Regardless of our opinions of what (Name) did, we’ve got to start rehearsing. We should just accept that (Name)’s not doing her solo and we have to perform the second version instead.”

“But we just found out.” Seohyun high pitched voice exclaimed. “Can’t we at least get some breathing space?”

“No!” Minjee shouted. “Jesus, we have seven hours max to practise and memorize this dance! We can’t have freaking breathing space! We can’t have a friendship circle and talk about how we feel! We need to rehearse!”

“Well said, Miss Gwan.” Madame Choi said dryly. “It is sad indeed that we don’t have Miss (Surname)’s solo, but I believe now is not the time for placing blame.” She clapped her hands, “To the barre! Come on! Mister Ghim, if you’d be so kind!” Mechanically, your class stood up. They knew what they had to do. Their emotions toward you would have to wait.

Consequently, no one looked at you for the rest of the morning. Not during barre, which Madame Choi told you to do even though there was no point in warming up, or during the rehearsals which followed. You just sat as they went over the dance again and again.

They’d kept certain aspects – the pirouettes at the beginning and the boys entering after the girls – but most of it was different. There was no tentative beginning. There was no tight circle during the bridge which you’d hide in and then burst out of, suddenly understanding dance on a whole new level. There was none of the dance that you had imagined in your mind. No story of awakening. Of realizing the world of dance. It was just. It was just a dance.

But you had no control over that anymore.

It was quarter to one. You had been sitting by the piano for the whole time, trying to make yourself scarce. No one needed you getting in the way. They worked with extreme focus. No one talked. No one looked away from the mirrors and Madame Choi. Hyeun didn’t giggle. Seohyun didn’t flirt. Minjee didn’t tell everyone what they were doing wrong, but even though they were all so focussed, things weren’t going well.

“We have half an hour before lunch!” Madame Choi announced, striding up and down the front of the room once again, as she had done thousands of times already. “Every single interval must be sharper! You need to extend! You need to look brighter! This music is about giving your whole self to something! It means putting your personality into it!”

No one reacted. They just wearily swigged water from their bottles and got back into formation. “And five six seven eight and smile! Come on! You’re not robots! Good, that’s it!”

But everyone could tell that it wasn’t. They were all so tired. At this rate you’d be the only one awake by the time tonight came.

Lunch was a relief, though. Everyone dragged their hoodies and cardigans on and trudged out through the door.

Yuna gave you a little smile as she walked out, but then she caught up with the others. You knew why. You weren’t going through the stress they were going through. You weren’t going through the worry of having to fix a whole dance in two rehearsals. You weren’t tired and aching like them.

So you waited a few minutes before heading down to the dining hall, where you sat alone at a vacant table at the back of the hall, trying to get yourself to eat something. You didn’t want to think. You just sat and let yourself be lulled by the tiny raindrops tapping on the window.

Was it raining in Los Angeles right now?  He would probable be the studios already, warming up. Stretching. Maybe he was sewing up his ballet slippers. Rehearsing one of the lifts with Taeyeon?

But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what Park Jimin, your partnering teacher, is doing.

The second rehearsal went a little better; everyone was perkier after their break. But there were still problems remaining. “Look lively!” Madame Choi demanded, walking right up to Areum in the front row. “Use your face! Your legs and arms aren’t enough! What is the music saying? What is this crescendo suggesting! Come on!”

They reached the end once again, finishing in one long line, the girls en pointe and the guys down on one knee in between them. Madame Choi had her hands on her hips, staring at them. “This shouldn’t be so difficult. Why are you having so much trouble connecting with a simple concept? Hmm?”

It looked as though no one would reply again, but Kwangsik suddenly spoke up, his voice quiet. “It’s (Name)’s dance, ma'am; not ours.”

Madame Choi raised her eyebrows at him. “It’s not – ” She stopped herself, taking a breath. “Perhaps it is, but I doubt that this music was written just for Miss (Surname)’s enjoyment. You must work this out.”

Just as Madame Choi was about to say the rest of her notes, there was a soft knock on the door.

“Oh my God!” Yuna suddenly squealed. “Jiwoo!”

Jiwoo came in, her arm still in a cuff and collar, wearing jeans and a thick jacket.

Forgetting all class etiquette, everyone hurried to the door with the exception of you, Minjee and Kwangsik, who looked mortified.

“Woah, easy Yu.” She laughed as Yuna gave her an enthusiastic hug.

“How are you?” Hyeun asked given a hug after Yuna.

“Is it going to be okay?”

“When are you coming back?”

“Miss Yang” Madame Choi nodded, a smile sneaking onto her face for the first time today. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

The class managed to split enough to allow her to speak to your teacher.

“I’m sorry, ma'am.” She said, as politely as usual. “I just got discharged and I wanted to see everyone before the review tonight.”

Madame Choi nodded. “Of course you’re welcome. You can sit in and watch, if you’d  like, but I do ask that we return to rehearsing straight away. We’ve had a few last minute changes.”

And suddenly everyone wanted to fill her in on what had happened with you.

“(Name)’s lost the solo again.”

“We’re back on, like, version two.”

“It’s hell, seriously.”

“She’s dumped us in some serious shit.”

“We’re gonna get thrashed.”

You sat back and waited as they vented out a bit of their emotions and got her a chair and made sure she was comfortable. Madame Choi tapped her foot as they finally returned to their positions. “Okay, from the tour jetes, five six seven.”

Jiwoo watched politely as they went through their moves again and again. Though her return had helped, they still weren’t finding much connection in the music. She occasionally looked at you, but you both knew you couldn’t talk here. She must have been itching to, though, because when you excused yourself to report to Master Hwan at five o'clock, Jiwoo came with you.

“Jeez.” She said as soon as you were out of ear shot. “I only saw you yesterday afternoon! What on Earth’s been happening?”

“So much, Jiw.” You said as you quickly hugged. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

You reached the Entrance Hall. There were only four other people not performing. One girl was recovering from a hip operation, two had minor injuries and one other boy had been overseas until yesterday and hadn’t had time to catch up. None of them had been stopped as a punishment.

Your tasks were easy, though. The other schools were coming and you were to be their guides, making sure they got from one place to the other. Until they arrived, you were to set up the dining hall and help out the dinner ladies. Jiwoo and you were put in charge of putting vases of flowers on the tables. You would carry, and then Jiwoo would arrange, seeing as she only had one functioning arm. It gave the two of you good time to talk.

Like yesterday, you found yourself spilling everything out to her, including the whole meeting with Master Jinho. It was a relief to tell someone the full details. Right from Minjee’s first allegations to the fact that she had a twin, to your little confrontation in the bathrooms later on.

“I knew Minjee had a sister.” Jiwoo said while putting a flower in a vase. “I had no idea that you and her were in competition for the last spot here, though. Still, it’s no reason for Minjee to be such a bitch.”

Though it was good to get the meeting with Master Jinho off your chest, you began to realize more and more that the real issue couldn’t even be expressed. How could you explain the whole thing with Jimin to her? How could you possibly admit being such a fool?

Finally you finished doing the flowers, and Master Hwan told you to go upstairs and change into proper clothes. Jiwoo and you slowly trooped up to your dorm. “Aren’t you tired, Jiw?” You asked, pulling on Dawon’s clothes from yesterday. “You only just got out.”

“It’s not too bad.” She said. “I’ll just have a nap when Master Kang’s class starts dancing.”

You laughed. “I dunno, they’ll probably beat us.”

She frowned. “It seemed like Madame Choi was trying to get them to dance a dance which isn’t theirs. From what I’ve heard, you pretty much made that dance your own. Your interpretation of it sounds pretty deep; how can anyone replicate that?”

You nodded glumly. “I guess so. But they have to find some sort of way to get something across.”

Jiwoo sighed. “Realistically, you’re the only one who can do that piece justice. If only you’d get magically reinstated.”

“If only world peace was achieved.” You muttered as you began to head back down to the Entrance Hall.

“So he said you weren’t allowed to dance in the review?”

“Yep.”

“I guess rules are rules.” She said quietly.

“You guess?” You repeated.

She shrugged, then winced at the pain. “I mean…every rule is breakable, right?”

You smiled. “Maybe, but I don’t think I need to give Master Jinho another excuse to kick me out.”

“I guess it depends on what you’re gonna lose if you do break it.” She said, “It’s a balancing act.”

Under directions from Master Hwan, you went outside to the front courtyard to wait for the busses. Jiwoo and you had been assigned the group from the US Ballet Academy. The rain was clearing a little, and it only spat on and off.

“Kwangsik didn’t say hello to me.” Jiwoo said whispered quietly, staring out at the trees. “He didn’t even look at me.”

You glanced at her. “He feels guilty, Jiwoo. He dropped you and you wound up in the hospital. You need to talk to him.”

She nodded. “I know. I will.”

The rumble of engines brought you to your attentions. Soon, three large busses were rolling across the cobblestones around the turning circle. Each bus came to a halt with a shudder. They all had photos of dancers on them, stretching in a leap or an arabesque across the entire length of the bus. Words in metallic white lettering were printed by the dancer.

The United States National Ballet Academy

In Association with the United States Ballet

“They’re all from the US Ballet?” You asked Master Hwan.

“Yes.” He said distastefully. “Remember, you’re representing your school.”

“Yes sir.” Jiwoo and you replied, then went down the steps.

The door to the first bus hissed open as you approached, and a woman stepped out. She was tall with dark hair, pushed up into a bun, dressed in a sharp white suit and white heels. Behind her came a man who was even taller, with a slight frame and a square jaw. Both of them looked to be in their forties.

“Hello.” You said awkwardly as you walked up to them. “We’re your guides for this evening.”

The lady smiled politely and held out a hand. “Myoh Youngmin.” She said as you took it. “Senior ballet mistress.”

“Chongsu Sungmin.” Said the man. “Academy Director.”

“I’m Jiwoo.” Jiwoo introduced herself politely with a bow.

“And I’m (Name).”

The Ballet Mistress looked sharply at you. “(Surname) (Name)?”

You nodded. What? How did she know you?

She exchanged glances with the man, who was frowning. “You’re the first year who’s already seventeen?” He asked. There was an undertone of contempt in his voice.

“Yes.” You replied blankly.

Jiwoo was looking at you nervously. “Um, we should probably start heading inside.”

Myoh Youngmin gave a plastic smile and got back into the bus. You heard her telling everyone to get off, but you didn’t take much notice.

“May I ask how you know about me?” You said to the man.

“Oh.” He shrugged, “We have various contacts with Amour de la Beauté. Your case is very. Interesting to us at the US Ballet.”

“Interesting?” You repeated. You struggled to keep the lightness in your voice. “How so?”

He gave a sympathetic smile. “It’s…a little odd to allow a seventeen year old dancer with limited experience into an elite academy, particularly when she has to be put in the first year group.”

The Ballet Mistress came back out, and students in white, blue and red jackets began streaming out of the busses, giggling and chattering.

“Also on your part.” The director continued. “Surely you understand the risks of throwing your whole education away to dance?”

“To dance when I am past the correct age?” You verified stonily. Jiwoo nudged you and you began to walk, leading the students behind you.

“Yes.”

You stared straight ahead. “Dancing is my passion, Mister Chongsu. It is all I want to do.”

A smirk crept across the lady’s face. Chongsu Sungmin cleared his throat, putting his hands behind his back. “It’s funny, really, Miss (Surname), because every other potential student who passes through my doors says the same thing; 'dancing is their passion’. But at the end of the day, my dear, all the audiences want is a pretty, youthful face with sharp pirouettes and long arabesques. Take my advice.” He said, slowing.

His students went on around him, following Myoh Youngmin. They glanced at you curiously as they passed. You looked back to their headmaster who stood in front of you. “You won’t get far, Miss (Surname). I know Kim Jinho has probably shouted some shit about you having amazing potential, but you don’t. No one likes an old dancer. At the American Ballet you’re already a laughing stock. Even Frank Rebrevae has been told not to bother watching performances with you as soloist.”

He put a hand on your shoulder, staring into your eyes with sickening earnest. “Go back to wherever you came from. You’re not going to make it.”

You stared. Jiwoo gripped you hand beside you, but you barely noticed. An inferno of thoughts, anger and curses, flamed in your head, but your words came out icy cold.

“I don’t care what you think, Mister Chongsu. I don’t care what your theory books say. I don’t care what tradition dictates. I don’t even care about Frank Rebrevae’s opinion of me.” You smiled a smirk to match Minjee’s. Maybe there’s something to learn from her.  "Do you know why, sir?

“I wouldn’t let my own students talk to me like this, Miss (Surname).” He said, as if in warning.

You ignored it. “You haven’t seen me dance.” Suddenly you were pulled back to your first day, sitting in the dorm for the first time, talking to Jiwoo and Seohyun and Minee. You had said those same words then and you said them now with even more conviction. You couldn’t always put your trust in your friends, or your class, or your teachers, or even your own feelings…

…but you could put your trust in your ballet. Always.

You stood up taller, lifting your chin high. The wind toiled with your hair. Rain dotted your skin. “A great dancer told me that a person had no right to judge another dancer until he knew what they were capable of.”

Jimin, his words lifted you higher, until you knew that you were right. You knew that you were being just. “Until you see me dance, Mister Chongsu, you have absolutely no right to judge me.”

He was silent for a moment, staring down at you. “And when will that be?” He said slowly. “I have it under very good authority that you were booted out of the review we’re watching tonight.”

“And on whose authority would that be?”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Shinn Taeil.”

Many things fell into place at that moment. Just like yesterday, the image came into your head of Taeyeon walking into your rehearsal with Madame Choi. Of Madame Choi explaining to her that Doctor Hill had given you a 'silly’ rest period, and that you had a great solo for the review. So Taeyeon was the one who told Master Jinho?

You mentally kicked yourself. Of course it had been Taeyeon! Who else knew who would do something like that? If you had been thinking better last night you would have known that straight away.

But she’d also told Taeil and Taeil was now telling Frank Rebrevae and all the important people in the ballet world how bad you were.

“Reputation is everything.”

Jiwoo was right; everything was a balance, and now the effects of not doing it outweighed the consequences of doing it. You couldn’t let Taeil and Taeyeon win. You couldn’t let your class down. You couldn’t give up your dance. It was time to stop allowing other influences push you around. It was your dance.

You looked back to Mister Chongsu.

“Your informant has it wrong. I will be dancing tonight.”

100+ Kink Challenge #2

Kink #12: Breeding!Kink

Pairing: Gabriel x Reader (Sister!Winchester)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 324

Warnings: NSFW, Unsafe Sex, Breeding Kink

Requested by @bohowitch​: Hope you don’t mind the little addition to the reader I did. Otherwise, enjoy.

Check out the other darling, kinky, wordy chickies that are abusing themselves with this much smut. @formidablepassion, @helvonasche,  @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell, and @when-the-day–met-the-night

Here’s the post if you would like to request. 100+ Kink Challenge

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

BTS reaction to them finding out you have depression. I've struggled with this for a while I always fear telling people because Idk how they will react. I love your account its amazing!❤❤

i’m sorry to hear you’re having trouble, and i hope it gets better. i also hope i’ve gotten my details right when i wrote this, i wouldn’t want it to be fake or over-done in any way. let me know if something bothers you. thanks for the request and the compliment, anon!


BTS Reaction | to you having depression |


Jin

Jin is wearing the sweater you bought him as he joins you in the kitchen. He’s excited for that date the two of you had been planning for weeks now, so he doesn’t notice your quiet agitation as you rummage in your fridge. 

_____!“ He grinned as he strolled into the kitchen. “Ready for our date?“

Your head pounds as you find that leftover cake you were looking for and walk towards the kitchen counter. “Could we-” You stick a fork into the cake a little too forcefully and watch as it sags pitifully. You couldn’t help relating to it a bit too much. “Could we not go today?” 

You look up at Jin.

A mistake. HIs look of disappointment brought back all the feelings of guilt and uselessness you had carried through the whole day. It had been a long time since you’ve felt this way, and you’d thought that you were finally recovering, but today’s particular unfruitfulness reminded you of the times you felt like you had no one, that no one could understand that constant numbness which grew to be a contrast with the horrible pain that plagued you day after day. 

You drop your head, your throat constricting as you remember the look on his face. Thoughts of how you didn’t deserve this beautiful, kind man again took over your swirling brain like it had been for the past few days. Your thoughts had grown so muddled you didn’t know if that little deprecating voice was actual reason or your depression talking. 

You drop your fork into the container and shove the cake away, urging yourself not to cry. “I’m sorry, Jin. Give me a minute to change into something nicer.”

Jin frowned on hearing that little waver in your voice that you were trying so hard to hide. “What’s wrong, _____? We don’t have to go if you’re unwell.” He jogged towards you and raised his hands to your face, checking for a temperature. 

You almost sobbed at how gentle his hands were, how he’d glossed over the fact that he might not go on this date he had anticipated for so long because he was worried whether you were unwell. 

“I’m so sorry, Jin, I didn’t want to make you give up on this.“

“Why are you apologizing–“

“I didn’t want to unload my crap on you. I’m not sick, Jin, I’m just being an idiot. Let me go change and–“

His hands dropped to your shoulders, holding you back. “You’re not being an idiot. If anything I’m an idiot, I should have noticed you were upset before ambushing you.” His thumb slowly swept your cheeks, a tentative arm held you closer to him. “Tell me. Your happiness is more important than a date.”

When you think you can trust your voice, you tell him. Everything, right from the loneliness and the numbness that eventually led to that lack of motivation that tied you down, isolated and desperate yet indifferent. 

When you tell him about the worthlessness that plagued you, especially concerning him, his hands tighten on you, anger in his eyes. “Is that how you’ve been feeling, ______?” Jin brought your eyes to his, trembling. “It must have been hell. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” He shook his head and kissed your temple. “It doesn’t matter, because it’s not true. There isn’t a day that goes by without me thinking about how lucky I am to have found you. You can tell me anything, ____, I promise I’ll listen.”  

Originally posted by lavender-kills

 Suga

You kick off your shoes with your heart in your mouth. Yoongi smiles at you as he enters the kitchen and looks around for a bottle of water. 

“Hey. Was the yoga class fun?“

You wince as you’re reminded of how you’ve been telling him you’ve been going to a weekly yoga class as a cover-up for your therapy sessions. You’d hated it, lying to him, but you’d had more than a few experiences where telling the truth resulted in awkward looks and lost contact. And you wanted what you had with him to last, hopefully past the revelation you would make today.

“Yoongi.“ You follow him into the kitchen and take his hand, tugging him towards a bar stool. “I need to tell you something.“ 

He pulled you closer between his legs as he puzzledly as he took a seat. “What’s wrong, _____?”

You brought your hands to his face so he could see how earnest you are. “Don’t be mad, Yoongi. I know it’s hard not to, but, just listen, okay?” As if he knew how much you were struggling with getting your next words out, he merely nodded, worry written all over his face. You take in a deep breath and tell him everything, stuttering at first, but growing confident as you see him nod in understanding and not interrupt you with questions or exclamations.

When you finish, you carefully peek at him. “Are you mad?”

He shook his head, his lips pushing out a little in habit. “No, I’m not mad. I’m a bit upset you didn’t tell me earlier, but–” He took your hands and brought them to his lips. ”I’m glad you told me now. _____, I know it’s not the right time, but…I want to tell you something my therapist told me when I couldn’t pick myself up or ask someone to help pick me up again.” Tears pricked the back of your throat as his eyes held yours, earnest and truthful. “There’s nothing wrong with asking for help. It doesn’t make you any lesser or weak. It just makes you stronger. _____, I love you, no matter what. Nothing changes that, not even your worst days.”

Originally posted by alyssa1413

Hoseok

“_______, you’re alright, yeah?“

You look up to see Hobi nervously standing behind you. You bite your lip and slowly stand up, wondering if you’ve been that obvious. 

You smiled what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “Yeah. Why do you ask?“

He watched as you tried to figure out how to play the movie you wanted to see. “Just…you seem quite down lately, and…“ You struggled to appear nonchalant, to have no idea what he’s talking about, like everything was normal and this was just one sad day in a multitude of happy ones. “…And it doesn’t matter if you don’t want to, but you can talk to me. If you thought I wouldn’t want to listen, I mean.“

His words make you stop for a moment. Past experiences, most of which were negative, had taught you that most people were uncomfortable talking about what haunted you every day. Others just chose not to believe it, making you feel even worse. It was the first in a long time someone had come up to you and asked to know. 

You turn towards Hobi, eyes pricking. When he sees the tears in your eyes, he rushes to hold you, apologizing for not noticing earlier repeatedly. In between of murmured i-love-you’s, he placed little kisses everywhere he could reach, as if he hoped every kiss could account for every minute he spent oblivious to what you were going through.

“_____, I want to be there for you. Everything I’ve done with Bangtan or without them doesn’t matter if I can’t be there when you need me the most. I love you in your best or worst, _____. You don’t need to be ashamed or feel hopeless: I know because I’ve been there too. You’re strong and I’m hundred percent sure you can get through this on your own.“ He slipped his hands behind your ears and met your gaze with a determined one of his own. “I just want to be there when you’re finally fully happy, and know that I just might have helped you with getting there.“

Namjoon

Honestly, if this man hasn’t noticed already, no one else can. So when he finds you curled up in bed, quiet and exhausted after an especially bad day, he doesn’t say anything, he just gets in next to you and wraps his long arms around you. Under the blankets, it’s just you and him, a quiet bubble compared to all the noise in your head. The cold sheets are a contrast to the warmth that spreads from his chest and arms. Silently, he holds you, understanding that right now, you couldn’t trust yourself to speak coherently. 

After what seems like hours, he’ll shift closer if any closer was possible. “____, I know it’s hard, babe, but I’m here, okay? I’ll always be here.” He presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. “You don’t have to say anything if you can’t right now. Are you hungry? Do you want me to get you something?”

You shake your head, thanking the heavens for the day you had met Namjoon.

“Okay, then. Get some sleep. I’ll be here right next to you. I promise it’ll be better tomorrow.“

Originally posted by jjeonguk

Jimin

Jimin is quiet as you recount the countless days you had spent drowning in your own thoughts and uncertainty. He’s quiet even when you tell him about the days you just wanted to give up and subsequently felt weak and useless for wanting to give up. He’s quiet as you tell him about the days you couldn’t move or speak because all you could feel was crippling guilt and other times, nothing at all.

All he does is run his hands through your hair and occasionally press his cool fingers against your temples to relieve that headache which had brought about this conversation in the first place. 

When you’re done, all falls quiet again. All you can hear is the slight thump of his heartbeat as you lie on his chest, his arms around you, his nose in your hair. He takes a moment before speaking, his words measured in careful consideration.

“And you’re better now?“

“Work is giving me a lot of shit now, but I’ve been worse.“ You smile up at him, hoping to reassure that little pout of his. I’m fine, Jimin.”

After a deliberating moment, he ruffles your hair and smiles back. “I’d like you to be happy rather than fine, but fine is fine, too.” He kisses you, just a quick peck on your lips. “I was thinking, ______– maybe you should take a few days off work. We could go to the beach: there’s this little bed-and-breakfast Jin-hyung told me about, right next to the seashore.” He cupped your face in his soft hands. “It’s not much, but it’s peaceful and far, far away from work. Just a mini-vacation. Pretty please?”

You try not to smile at his not-so subtle effort to give you a break. It wasn’t easy, it never would be, but Jimin made it tolerable because he loved you, and that counted, even if it wouldn’t work a miracle.

Originally posted by samwol

V

When you’d begun dating him, you’d wondered if Tae’s playful demeanour would somehow be at odds on the day you finally told him you suffered from depression. But tonight, as you told him, his gaze did not waver in awkwardness as others’ did when they found out. He held your hands as you told him, a grim understanding replacing his cheeky grin as you recounted your worst memories. When you’re done, he sighs and pulls you closer, brushing some hair back with a finger. 

“I would have never guessed.“

It surprises you. “What?”

He buries his fingers in your hair. “That you were going through this. I always thought you were the strongest person I knew. You and the other members were all I had when things didn’t go well.” He brought his forehead to yours, noses just touching. “You still are. Strong, I mean. Nothing you went through me sounds easy. But you still managed to turn into this beautiful and smart person who I somehow managed to convince should date me. I couldn’t believe it back then, and I still can’t believe it now.”

There. He made you laugh. Kim Taehyung doesn’t think your past experiences made you weak, he only adores you more for having the courage to get through it.

Originally posted by bangtanroyalty

Jungkook

“_______?“ Jungkook held up a little bottle. It rattled as he gripped it a little too tightly. “What is this?“

He’d seen bottles like this before, lying around his hyungs’ rooms. He knew they didn’t bode well, these little pills. He associated them with harder times, times where he saw his hyungs try their best to shield him from the constant pressure while trying to rein in their own hopelessness. And to find this same token among your possessions brought up feelings Jungkook did not know what to do with.

You looked up from the crossword you were doing and wince when you see the reason behind his shock. “Those..were some meds I needed when– when I used to feel much worse.” 

Jungkook spluttered. “Much- much worse? _____, you didn’t tell me!“·      

You carefully rose and walked towards him, warily taking his face between your hands. “I didn’t want to freak you out, or drive you away.” You try for a smile. “I’m much better now.” ·         

He looks at you in disbelief, his eyes tinged with red. “Did you think I would leave you if– ?” He hugged you, hands shaking. “______, I wouldn’t think of leaving you: ‘better’ or ‘worse’.“ Jungkook took in a shuddering breath. “You can tell me everything. Even about your worst days.”

You closed your eyes in relief and let him hold you. He wanted to help, even though he didn’t understand, and that was enough. That was enough for you.

Originally posted by jjeonguk


so. sad? frustrated? satisfied? tell me. you’re free to drop by my ask box if you want something special or, you know, just wanna talk.

p.s. i’m kinda shook about serendipity (jimin kill me, like, how are you possible) and the concept photos (V how dare you) and blue hair will haunt me till September 18th. also, School 2017 has ended which means I have nothing left to do in life. except, of course, for real school which is one of the main reasons why i cant post more often. a lot of reactions concerning crushes coming up soon so anticipate!

Ready or Not - (a Xiumin one shot)

“My uncle is famous!” Minjoo shouted

“Nu-uh” Seho whined back

“Yu-huh!” Minjoo insisted “he’s super famous! I saw him on tv! And he never leaves the house without covering his face!”

“That’s just because he’s ugly!” Seho said teasingly while sticking out his tongue.

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Stop the Sun

An Ubbe x Reader imagine the night before Ubbe leaves for England with his brothers.

TW: mild mention of rough sex, but as per usual with my Ubbe imagines, this is all sweetness.


You and Ubbe always looked forward to daybreak. You were early risers, up with the sun and the song of birds. Sometimes you stole a sunrise walk on the shore before even the fishermen were there, quiet and serene as the sea itself. Sometimes you preferred to stay tangled in your furs, watching the way the growing light played over each others skin, tracing its path with gentle fingers and warm tongues. More often than not, sunrise was a time for sweetness—Ubbe sinking into you with a content sigh, soft moans and softer kisses, the slow curling of your toes culminating in an orgasm that left you smiling all morning.

Unlike your evening encounters—the ones where he made you scream and beg for him, the times when he would pull your hair back to expose your tender throat to his demanding mouth, the love-marks he left on your skin, and the way his cock filled you like a living thing—mornings were for sweetness. For soothing bites and bruises with kisses, for his prick sliding into your slickness with unparalleled gentleness and your name falling from his lips like a breathless prayer.

But tomorrow morning there would be none of that. Ubbe would leave before the sun was risen, gone with his brothers to avenge their father. It was after dinner and the two of you had just returned to your small house, reeling from a few too many horns of mead. You hoped the alcohol in your blood would calm you but it only made you feel stormy, like your blood would bubble out through your skin and drown you.

Ubbe sat on the bed after he took his boots off, holding his hand out to you. You took it and pressed your lips to his palm, fighting back tears and cursing yourself for ruining your last night with your lover. You could not bear to look at him, his beautiful blue eyes cut into your heart like small, sharp knives—every touch enough to wound you, but not enough to kill you yet. Parting from him would be a death from a thousand small cuts.

And then he pulled you to him with a quiet, needy moan. You pressed yourself into him, desperate, wanting only to feel his skin against every inch of you. Every spot he didn’t touch you was consumed by the sheer, overwhelming need of him. He threw you down onto the bed, hitching your skirts up above your hips and tugging your dress roughly over your head without even bothering to loosen the ties. Ubbe buried his face between your legs with a fervent urgency.

His beard tickled your sensitive lips, and with just a few rough sucks on your clit, he had you writhing. “Y/n, hold still for me,” he growled, his arms snaking around your hips to lock you in place.

“You make it impossible for me to hold still,” you answered him in a voice that was little more than a shrill squeal as his tongue dipped into your dripping core. He lapped at every last drop of your juices in long, hard strokes. You screamed his name as he dug his nails into your hips. You would bear the mark of his fingers for days to come, a reminder of the way he loved you.

When Ubbe had quenched himself, he slid slowly up your body. He trailed kisses and bites along your back, taking his time to feast upon your soft flesh. His broad, warm tongue traced a shape slowly between your shoulder blades. “Hold still for me, Y/n,” he breathed against your skin when you squirmed in pleasure. “I am licking the shape of a protection rune onto your skin and begging the gods to keep you safe until my return.” He finished, kissing the center of the rune, before his gentle hands on your hips rolled you onto your back.

His blue eyes were warm and a little sad as he looked you over. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead just closed his eyes and kissed you like you were the only thing he needed to survive. His calloused, gentle hands found your breasts, teasing their peaks with his thumbs, and you gasped against his lips. Encouraged by this, he lowered his head to one breast, taking your nipple in his mouth to suck and tease you. He was careful not to neglect the other breast, and then his face was hovering over yours again. “I am going to miss you so much. The taste of your flesh, the feel of your pussy clenching around my cock when you scream for me. I love the way you let me mark you as mine. Every mark I leave on you is a claim, and every soothing kiss that follows is a promise I will love you forever, Y/n.”

The thickness in your throat wouldn’t allow you to speak, so you answered him in a way you knew he would understand. He groaned as your lips sucked hard on the tender flesh of his neck, his eyes half-closed from the pleasure of it. You finished off your mark with a rough bite, immediately followed by a slow, sweet kiss.

Ubbe’s hand was on your chin, guiding your lips to join his, and he sank into you with a content sigh. “I know mornings are for sweetness, Y/n,” he told you softly, resting his forehead against yours, “but I have never dreaded the daylight more.” His face was earnest and a little afraid; you stroked your fingers through his long, unbound hair.

“I wish we could stop the sun,” you agreed, feeling the familiar tightness building slowly in your belly. He knew the look on your face and moved his hips against you in the way you liked best.

“You are like holding the sun in my arms,” he told you, withdrawing himself almost completely before sheathing himself in you again. You felt your toes start to curl. He knew you were close, too, and increased his pace just a little.

The orgasms from your sweet lovemakings always surprised you with their force. They were not wild and violent like your other ones, but the love in every stroke of Ubbe’s cock was enough to send you sailing over the edge of ecstasy like slow waves breaking on the shore. He followed you soon after, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and wrapping his arms around you. He pulled you tight, possessive and needy even after all you had done. “If I make love to you all night, maybe the sun will forget to rise.” His hand was already between your thighs, and you lacked the strength to turn him away when he was all that you wanted. That, and to stop the sun.

anonymous asked:

Do you have any prompts for a boy defending their little brother? Thank you in advance ^^

1) “Not to be overly dramatic,” the voice drifted over the heads of the bullies.“But if you so much as glare at my little brother again, I’m going to put a pencil through your eye.” The boy strolled forward, hands in pockets, as casual as could be. The boy who, throughout the school, had a reputation of earnest kindness. Never a bad word to say about anyone boy. Rumour had it a kitten followed him into the class once, type of boy. The look on his face now made sub zero feel like summer-holiday sunshine. 


2) “Not everything has to be solved by violence!” his little brother protested. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll let them punch you in the face next time.” 


3) “Now, now,” his elder brother said. “I know he’s a pain in the arse, trust me, I know.” A hand landed on my shoulder, guiding me back a few steps.“But he’s my brother. I’m going to assume you didn’t know that? Because you wouldn’t possibly be so stupid as to start shit with my brother. Right?”


4) “Why’d you have to get involved? You hate fighting - look at you, you’re bleeding!” He stared distressed at his brother’s nose. 
“Well, I tried asking them nicely first. Wasn’t just gonna take a hike and leave you outnumbered three to one, was I?”


5) The figure came out of nowhere, a whirlwind of movement that he hadn’t thought possible. The next thing he was conscious of was someone standing over him, the area otherwise empty. He blinked blearily. 
“I can’t leave you alone for five minutes,” his older brother said. “I swear to god.” He was careful not to jar his injuries when he hauled him up though.

Pining

Originally posted by the-girl-with-the-nike-scar

Summary: Chapter 7 of Trope-Tastic! ~ Tadashi + 4. Mutual unrequited pining until a third person(s) intervenes and gets them together.


“To love is nothing. To be loved is something. But to love and be loved, that’s everything.”

You hummed along to the music playing in through your earphones as you pulled a fresh batch of lemon poppyseed muffins out of the oven. While the last of the morning batch cooled, you arranged the bagels and pastries in the display case next to the counter.

The cafe was empty, only an hour until opening, when the usual breakfast rush would be coming in. The sun was just barely reflecting off the buildings of San Fransokyo as you worked.

You were getting a culinary degree, specializing in baking at San Fransokyo University. What better way to practice your skills for money, than at the Lucky Cat Café? The owner, a lovely woman named Cass had hired you back in the summer to be the in house baker and to act as a second waitress as needed.

Once all the food was on its place, you wrote the specials out on the whiteboard behind the counter as you boiled water for a cup of tea. Provided there weren’t too many people this morning, you had a fair amount of time off before making more baked goods for the rest of the day.

You were sitting at one of the tables, working on a paper about the science behind puff pastry, as you enjoyed your cup of english breakfast. So focussed on your work, you didn’t hear the soft footsteps on the stairs in the corner.

“Can I join you?” The soft, deep voice of one Tadashi Hamada brought you out of your trance. His throat seemed a little gravelly from sleep, making your heart flutter.

“Please do.” You said with a smile, flattered that he wanted to spend time with you. “Are you usually an early riser?” You asked congenially, closing your laptop to focus on the cute guy who had been the object of many of your thoughts lately.

“I try to be. This morning it was a little easier with all the delicious smells from down here.” He chuckled, making you smile widely.

“Have you eaten yet? I can grab you your pick of this morning’s selection.” you offered.

“Are you sure? I don’t want-” He tried to protest.

You waved him off. “Please, Cass won’t notice. Plus, who better to be my taste tester than you!”

You weren’t sure, but you could’ve sworn you saw a blush creeping up his neck. Within a few minutes, you were resituated at the table, chatting while he had breakfast. You were glad the conversation was mostly small talk, because you found it far too easy to get distracted when you talked to Tadashi.

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