#and the evenings teaching ballet to little kids | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daydreamgoddess14 · 9 months

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Saturday Mornings

MASTERLIST

🤸‍♀️ Well , well, well, didn't take long to get me back on my bullshit, did it? 🤣 I bring you a Roy Kent smutty one shot. Enjoy the gorgeousness of this man 🥵

Roy doesn't have a thing for Phoebe's dance teacher. Until he does. 👀

For @littleesilvia 😘

Saturday Mornings

Saturday morning had always been for Phoebe. From the day she was born, Roy had dedicated every Saturday morning to her. In the first weeks of her birth, he'd let himself into his sister's house and picked up a squawking Phoebe from the moses basket and taken care of her from 6-10 am so his sister could get more sleep. In those early days, he'd spoken to her in his deep, gruff voice while she drifted in and out of sleep. Then they'd go for a walk to the shop, the neighbours peeping into the buggy until Roy had growled at them to "Fuck off and stop gawping at her, she's trying to fucking sleep." As she got a little older, it became cartoons and cereal - devoured together on the sofa, and then a trip to the park. He'd arranged everything for 9 years around his Saturday mornings with Phoebe. Even away matches with a midday kick off didn't stop him, it didn't matter if it was an hour, or five hours - match day or no match day, rain or shine, if he was single or not, Uncle Roy would be there. Their time alone together moved through her swimming lessons phase, gymnastics phase, and morphed into his coaching her kids team. He wanted to be on board with this next phase - really, he did.

After 8 weeks of lessons, he'd finally put his finger on what the problem was. The dancing was nothing new, Phoebe had tried ballet, tap, some weird toddler baby dance shit. 16 weeks ago, she'd switched to some kind of pop/tween dance class with a lovely older woman who mostly sat to one side and pointed to each move, each music transition. It had been great, 8.30-9.30am every Saturday, fucking wonderful. Then 8 weeks ago, that woman had switched classes and you had taken over. You, with your tight Tik Tok leggings and your cropped t-shirt. You who showed the kids each move over and over again. The number of dad's attending the class had suddenly gone up. It had been 6 months since he thought that he and Keeley could try again, but she'd made it clear that that was not the case. He'd been single for longer than 6 months before, sure, but not for a long time. Back then in his younger days, he'd thought nothing of a mutually convenient resolution with a friend until he met his next significant other. He’d come to the conclusion now that he was too fucking old for a friends with benefits situation.

If it was just Saturday mornings that were the problem, he could live with that. He started out by taking a book and ignoring the class completely, but Phoebe did not like that at all. So he switched to audiobooks, brought a pair of fucking ear buds so he could drown out the sound of your voice, your gentle encouragement and the giggles. If it wasn’t the leggings going to tip him over the edge, it was going to be the giggles. Or the praise. Weird, he didn’t realise he had a bit of a praise kink before. Then he heard you in a breathy voice saying something that definitely could apply to situations other than a 9 year olds dance class and nearly had to leave the room. No, it wasn’t just Saturday mornings anymore. You came to mind now at the most inconvenient times. Sitting on the bike while Jamie pulled him along at 5am when shouting at Jamie in the street would have been frowned upon and they instead trained quietly, whenever one of the kids dance routine songs came on the radio and he was forced to relive watching you teach them, at night in the dark when he was alone, in the shower… He absolutely had to stop thinking about you like this. Like you’d see it in his eyes when you waved good morning, or when he held his bank card over your little hand held machine to pay for the classes. He also couldn’t stand the very much married men who flirted so openly with you. Clearly telling their wives at home, no love, I’ll take little… Mabel to dance class, you stay here and have a lie in and a cup of tea.

It was funny how they’d migrated from the later morning class which was run by a woman who had the body shape of a fucking pencil. Beautiful, yeah she wasn’t bad. But she didn’t have the strong thighs you did, the sweeping curve of your hip into a cute little waist. He couldn’t go another week like this. Had to stop now, stop being so pervy. He was no better than the other blokes who came to watch their kids' class. Except he was slightly better, because he was actually single.

“Uncle Roy, we’re here, come on!” Phoebe was already half out of the car. He braced himself for another week of torture.

“Good morning guys! Come in, I’m just getting set up.” You called out from across the room. He was a bit too early really. Not intentionally, of course not. You were still in your hoodie, still setting up the portable speaker and drinking a Costa coffee. You put a song on in the background and he had to hold his breath while you pulled off the warm grey sweater. As it came off, it pulled the baggy cropped t-shirt up as well, exposing your sports bra underneath, the soft skin of your stomach. It was definitely soft whenever he thought about it anyway. You straightened yourself out and sat on the floor, stretching your legs out in front of you and reaching forward to your toes. Phoebe lept out of her seat, threw her coat at Roy and plonked herself down in front of you, mirroring your pose. “Joining me for a warm up Phoebs?”

“It’s important to warm up. My Uncle Roy is a football coach and he says it’s the most important part.”

“He’s not wrong.” You smiled, moving through some other poses and stretches. He was a dead man. This was it. The end, this was how it was going to go. You stretch your arms up as far as you can reach them, stretching out your back with a little pop. He tried to ignore the fucking Grecian vase shape your body made, truly. Until you’d made a noise a little too close to a moan for his liking, followed by, “Holy shit that feels good.”

Fucking hell. Fucking hell .

“Sorry Phebs, didn’t mean to swear.”

“It’s ok. I’ll let you off the first time, but you owe me a pound next time.”

“Aww thanks.” The class soon filled up, he wished he’d taken a seat way at the back, out of the way so he could either look at you without it being so noticeable, or ignore you completely. He totally respected your classes, he really did. It was a tricky thing, conducting an age appropriate class for 9 year olds which avoided sexualising dance moves but also made them feel like they were able to move their bodies how they wanted to. Of course, it’s not always the dance moves themselves which could be seen as sexual, more often it’s the person watching who makes that connotation. And he tried so, so hard not to do that. Tried desperately to not think about how your body would move underneath his, on top of his, the beautiful sounds he could draw from you. He needed to get out, feigned a phone call, holding up his phone as he got to the door so you knew he’d be right outside if Phoebe needed anything. He didn’t think you’d even seen him until you gave him a little thumbs up.

At the end of the class, you encourage the kids to just sit for a minute. You all usually end up sprawled on your backs, not having to make eye contact makes it easier for some of the kids to talk openly if they wanted help or an opinion on something. It was somewhat of an eye opener for the parents as well. This week, you had the kids sit up so they could see you,

“I thought I might take you on a little trip, if you guys fancy it? I was going to go and see the new Barbie film after class next week. If any of you want to come with me, with your grown up - of course - then we could have a really exciting morning! I’m not allowed to take any of you without another grown up though, ok? So you’ll have to check with them first.” You handed each of them a little pink party invite. He already knew before Phoebe asked. Their match next week was on Sunday so he was free all of Saturday morning. He had no excuse to not take her, he also didn’t think he wanted one.

He hoped you were a little bit dumb. It was a horrible thought, he knew that, to wish stupidity on someone. But if there was any chance of him making a full recovery and banishing you to the depths of his mind, never to turn up again - especially not when he was in the shower with his hand around himself, he really fucking hoped that you were dumber than a box of rocks. You weren’t. He already had an inkling of that, but he could still live in hope.

“Fancy the Barbie movie next week?” You’d asked brightly as he’d held out his card to pay, he wasn’t sure if it was the physical and mental turmoil of having to watch you for the last hour, but he thought he could detect a sliver of hope in your voice.

“Fucking probably, she won’t let me say no.” Phoebe held out a hand for her pound. “Add it to my tab.”

And of course, that’s how he found himself in a dark cinema the following week with a gaggle of kids around him. He was still trying to work out if it was a blessing or a curse that he’d ended up sitting next to you - it had certainly earned him glares from one or two of the other grown ups. As you laughed again at another joke aimed to sail just over pre-teen heads, he knew it was a curse. It had to be. Forced to listen to that laugh for two hours? Fucking torture. When you cried, he knew he was done for. He reached over, just a little and patted the back of your hand in comfort. Just a little there, there gesture. You’d only fucking gripped his hand and squeezed it, he stole a glance at you and you’d given him a watery smile and a little lopsided shrug. Then you’d let go of his hand, and turned back to the movie. He had to spend the remaining 45 minutes of the film trying not to think about your warm hands carefully exploring his body.

The following week, he did it.

“Would you like to go for a coffee sometime?” He asked quietly as his card payment went through. He didn’t think you’d heard him until you looked up sharply.

"Aren't you like way out of my league?"

"What league is that then?”

“Well, you're in the ridiculously fit footballer league? Y’know for people who date supermodels and influencers?”

“I wouldn't fucking know about that.”

“I'm sure you would, I'm sure they don’t kick you out once you retire. Once a fit footballer, always a fit footballer? Is that the name of it? The… F. I. T? Or is it just the R.F.F.L?”

“What's that stand for?”

“No idea, it's your league, you tell me. Footballers Into Tits?”

“That’s a shit acronym”

“I know. I can do better, promise. Give me a minute.”

“I'm sure you'd be alright in that league” He said quietly,

“Excuse me? That was very cheeky. Ohh, maybe it could stand for ‘Filthy rich but Impossibly Tedious’?”

“That’s pretty good, definitely suits some footballers I know. Alright, fine. What fucking league are you in, then?”

“Whatever the Conference equivalent of the F.I.T is.”

“Now that can’t be true.”

“Oh yeah? How do you know?”

“I just fucking do. Is it a yes to coffee?”

“I mean, I still think you’re way too high up the F.I.T for me, but sure.”

“It’s the R.F.F.L actually.” He smirks as you hand him a flyer for the class.

“My number is on there.” You tell him, then you’d walked away without taking his number, which meant he was going to have to be the one to contact you first. No, you definitely weren’t dumb. Shit .

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was a combination of factors really, a busy week at work meant though he’d messaged you quickly, he wasn’t actually able to meet for coffee until the end of the week. So you’d spent all week in a message exchange which had ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous.

“Would you rather fight 100 tiny Jamie Tartt’s or 1 giant one?”

“100 tiny ones. I’d fucking stamp on them all.”

“Figured out what league you’re in.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Champions League.”

“Fuck off am I. I’ve wikipedia’d your dating history mate. Gina Gershon? I think I should cancel coffee now…”

“Fuck, please don’t.”

“Do you always try so hard to look like you’re not looking at dance class?”

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uhuh. Ok.”

“Yes, I do. Every week is torture.”

“Jamie says I’m too old for the R.F.F.L.”

“Maybe that works in my favour. If I’m up against Gina fucking Gershon, I’d have no chance.”

“You’re not up against anyone.”

“I've been thinking about you all morning.”

“Was that flirting? Were you just flirting with me?”

“Shut up. See you later.”

And now… well. Coffee at 3pm on a Friday turned into dinner at 6pm, dessert at 8pm and a nightcap at 10pm in his kitchen. You tapped the edge of your empty tumbler,

“Another?” He asked, leaning against the counter just across from you.

“No, thank you. I should… go.” The lift at the end meant it could have been a statement, could have been a question. He nodded,

“Early class.”

“Yep. I think we lost track of time.”

“Or not,” he offered,

“Or not,” you bit your lip and he felt indecision fluttering in his chest. He pushed off the counter and closed the gap between you both in only one step.

“If I kissed you now, would you be mad?” He asked softly, he could see your body tremble with the breath you took.

“Think I’d be more mad if you didn’t.” He watched you hold his gaze for as long as you could before looking at his mouth. He took the tumbler from you and put it on the counter before placing a careful hand on your hip and leaning down to kiss you. The warm whisky taste of vanilla and honey mingled with the chocolate from your dessert and Roy realised that no, he hadn’t been tortured before, watching you teach a bunch of kids how to dance wasn’t the way he was going to go. This was. Right here in his kitchen with your arms winding around his neck and bringing him as close as you could possibly get him. Your fingers scratching through his hair. He pressed you into the counter,

“I’ve thought about doing this for a long time,” he whispered, kissing down your neck, making you gasp. He pulled away quickly, worried that it was too much too soon, “Shit, sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” He went to move further back to give you space but your hands gripped his shirt to pull him back in,

“Please, I don’t want to stop,” you breathed heavily, “I don’t want you to stop.” You said, more firmly. He was against you again in an instant,

“Sure?” He asked, “You’re sure?” You stepped up to kiss him, making your feelings very clear,

“I’m sure.” Your fingers flew to the buttons of his shirt, undoing the first couple. He pulled you away from the counter, strong arms wrapped around your back and lifted you enough to move you both to the sofa. You stumbled against the cushions, falling backwards and pulling him with you so that he landed heavily on top of you.

"Oof."

“Fuck, sorry. You ok?” He sits back up on his knees, allowing you to automatically move your legs to either side of his and sit up,

“Never better,” his smile catches you off guard, “fuck, you’re gorgeous.” You mumble, reaching for him. The feeling is more than mutual. He needs to feel your kiss again, desperate to feel your skin on his. It’s better than anything he’d spent the last 8 weeks dreaming of. And the sounds you made as his hands and kisses explored your body were enough to drive him insane. He moves further down your body, pulling your skirt down with him and immediately turns to trail kisses and little bites along your inner thigh while his hand reaches up to link fingers with yours.

“Look at me,” he whispered, his breath hot against your hip. The simple request alone made your body turn to liquid against him. He’d spent so long thinking about (denying, debating, ignoring) the effect you had on him, he hadn’t actually considered that you would be just as affected by him. He wasn’t stupid, he knew he looked y’know, alright , for an older bloke. But still, seeing it first hand… seeing it first hand, hearing it first hand, from you was really something else entirely. You tugged his hand to bring up back up to you but he shook his head, his beard catching the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, “busy,” he said, his voice muffled. He focused on nothing but you, losing himself in each gasp, moan and clutch of your hand still holding his. He worked you through one bone-shaking orgasm without stopping, leaving you a shuddering mess as he went straight for another. Looking up at you, he could see the hand that wasn’t clinging onto him had covered your eyes. This time when you squeezed his hand, he made his way back up your body and settled between your legs. “You ok?” he asked, leaving soft kisses on your jaw before finally capturing your mouth in a filthy kiss. You didn’t speak, just shook your head. “You taste fucking incredible.” He kissed you again and you whimpered, finally moving your hand away from your eyes.

“I’ve got a problem.”

“Oh yeah?” He said, moving back to your neck, a hand slipping behind you to unclip your bra.

“Yeah I thought you’d only want a one night thing but that’s impossible now.”

“It was fucking impossible anyway. One night is definitely not enough time.”

“Oh,” you whispered weakly. “Good. Please-, oh fuck,” he caught a nipple lightly between his teeth, “please don’t stop.” So he didn’t, and he never would again if it was up to him. When he’d been (much) younger, he fully grasped the importance and concept of consent. He was a professional footballer - it wasn’t just important, it was crucial. But as he’d gotten older, he finally realised just how much better saying, and hearing, the words made everything. Being able to ask, “may I?” and “I need to hear you say it” and waiting, waiting, waiting, for the breathy response had never left him so wrecked before. He pushed into you in long, slow strokes while you met him with each roll of your hips. When you hold his jaw tightly to bring his gaze to yours, he nearly falls apart but he's determined to get you there first and he knows you're so close. "You feel so good-," you whisper, "So good."

"Fuck, I need-"

"I know, I'm right with you." His name is on you lips as you come and he thinks it's the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. When he joins you, he kisses you with such depth it's like you were made for him. You lay still together for a while as you catch your breath. He keeps his nose in the crook of your neck while his hand softly smooths across your ribs and the side of your breasts. Your legs no longer lock around him, you stretch out and enjoy the weight of his body covering you.

"'M crushing you," he mumbles. His voice so low in your ear makes you shiver and despite you not being ready for another round quite so soon, your hips buck, "Fucking hell, give me a minute," he laughs.

"You're not crushing me, and I'm not ready yet either," you grin into his hairline and kiss his temple.

"Hmm if you say so." He rocks against you, half hard again already, needing to hear the broken little moan that ghosts over his head. "Come on, I want you in a bed this time."

He wasn't happy when you had to tear yourself from his bed at 7am to go home. He wasn't happy when he picked Phoebe up at 8am. He wasn't happy in the drive thru Costa queue at 8.10am. He was happy at 8.20am when he finally got to hand you your coffee and see your smile as you stretched out on the floor of the dance studio. He was perfectly happy knowing that you'd be torturing his Saturday mornings for a while longer.

FIN

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent imagine #roy kent smut #roy kent x you #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fluff

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jungshookz · 11 months

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apparently y/n's really good with toddlers and jimin thinks it's adorable

➺ pairing; balletteacher!jimin x ballerina!y/n

➺ genre; alright balletteacher!jimin stans since the last update was.,,. uh,., anyway here’s some pre-breakupfluff!! actually idk if this is going to make u guys more sad knowing how that last drabble ended but this one is super cute so at least you have that <3 i’m FINALLY appeasing u with balletteacher!jimin content

➺ wordcount; 2.3k

➺ summary; all the teeny ballerinas seem to gravitate towards y/n for some reason and it’s taking everything within jimin to not spend the entire class just watching her fondly.

➺ what to expect; “oops, i dropt my swipper again.”

»»————- 🧸 ————-««

when jimin first got the email from saying that he had to take over the toddler’s ballet class for a day because the teacher for that class called in sick at the very last minute and he was the only one whose schedule lined up perfectly with the toddler’s class, needless to say, he wasn’t very happy

it’s not that he hates children or anything horrible like that (he really doesn’t understand people who say that they hate children) — don’t get him wrong, he loves when random babies wave at him on the street and he’ll even go as far as to make a face at them if their parents aren’t watching — it’s just that he’s literally never taught a toddler ballet class before so he doesn’t even know where to start… and he also doesn’t know how far he can push them before he’s being accused of being a horrible, mean teacher

though it would be fairly impressive on his end if they were able to do grand jetés by the end of class

“i’m so happy we get to play with toddlers all day!” lisa squeals, plopping herself down next to you as you continue your morning stretches in front of the mirror, “aren’t you excited??”

“i think it’ll be fun!” you smile, nodding in agreement before shrugging, “i’m a little nervous because i literally have never interacted with a child other than my little cousins, and they’re like eight to nine years old now, so i’m out of practice…”

“it’s okay, y/n,” you feel a harsh pat on your shoulder and you look up to see seulgi smiling sweetly at you, “not all of us can be good at everything. you keep the class humble.”

“very funny, seulgi.” you grumble, rolling your eyes before turning to look back at lisa, “i’m just glad we kinda get a day off because we have to help mr. park teach the toddlers. i don’t know about you but i am not in the mood to do any pirouettes this morning.” you huff, adjusting your leg warmers before checking out your reflection in the mirror to make sure you look okay

you also feel a little groggy because you didn’t get much sleep last night

you spent the night at jimin’s and then he drove you back to your place early (because lisa texted and said she’d come over in the morning to have breakfast with you before the two of you zipped over to the studio so you had to go home otherwise she’d be wondering where the hell else you’d be)

“do you think i should’ve worn the sheep-patterned leg warmers instead? i feel like toddlers would be more receptive to sheeps-“ for some reason you feel like you’re trying to impress the toddlers even though they probably don’t even know what leg warmers are and even if they did they couldn’t care less about them

you were going to wear your sweatpants but you got a new pair of leg warmers and you wanted to show them off (they’re baby pink with little black bows on the back of them), so you decided to pair them with your black leotard, a matching black wrap cardigan, and your stockings of course

“ah, i just love kids,” lisa sighs, getting up from the ground as you get up as well before looping her arm with yours, “and i don’t know about you, but seeing mr. park interact with kids is also something that i’m very much looking forward to.”

you feel a wide grin growing on your face at the reminder that yes, you’re finally going to see jimin interacting with cute little kids and you remind yourself to keep it cool

you and jimin only started dating a few weeks ago and you don’t want to scare him off by getting all baby crazy

you don’t even know if jimin wants kids

…

does he want kids?

and if he does, would he want to have them with you? because you certainly wouldn’t mind carrying his beautiful children and-

“oh my god, they’re so cute!”

the room erupts into high pitched coos and squeals when the toddlers, well, toddle into the room, all of them dressed in matching baby pink cardigans and leotards and chiffon skirts with stockings on their little legs and neat little slicked back buns on their little heads and it doesn’t take long for you to fall in love with all of them because oh my god they’re so cute and you just want to eat their chubby little cheekies and gobble them up and rRRaAWOOF-

“ladies, here are our little guests for the day,” jimin laughs lightly, shutting the door behind him quietly as he gently nudges the little ones towards the group like a herd of little baby sheep, “there are twenty-four of them and twelve of you, so if you could each take two for the day, that would be wonderful- oh!” jimin pauses when he accidentally bumps into one of the girls and he reaches down to pat her head, “sorry honey, mr. park is a little clumsy today and you’re just so small-“

“oh god, i can’t take it-“ lisa groans quietly, holding a hand over her mouth as she muffles a squeal and starts to bounce on the balls of her feet excitedly, “i can’t take it i can’t take it i can’t take it that is so stinking cute-“

“what are we supposed to do, do we just grab two random ones and go?” seulgi asks with a frown and you can’t help but snort because that is such a seulgi thing to ask

“don’t grab two of them and go, this isn’t a drive through-“ you chuckle, watching as the other girls disperse into the crowd of teeny ballereenies to collect their two for the day, “you just have to go and see which ones vibe with you, i think. which might be hard for you.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“well, all children know that they need to stay away from the wicked witch of the west- OW-“ you yelp when seulgi delivers a hard punch to your arm before taking off

it’s only in that moment you notice one of the little girls in the back, wide-eyed and holding onto both her slippers, looking as lost as ever

she stumbles forward as the other girls start shuffling forwards slightly, all the toddlers clearly a little intimidated by all of you

you make your way over to her and she immediately looks up at you, her lips parting slightly

“hi! do you need some help with your slippers?” you crouch down so that you’re eye-level with her and she nods shyly before averting her gaze, “okay, i can help you. i’m y/n. what’s your name?” you stand back up before holding your hand out for her and she wraps her hand around two of your fingers, trailing behind you as you lead her to a free corner in the room

“mia.”

“mia’s a very pretty name,” you smile, looking down at her (from your angle, you can see her little cheeks protruding out slightly and it’s just so cute)

“i dropt my swipper.” mia suddenly stops in her tracks and you stop as well, letting her bend down to pick up her slipper only for the other one to fall onto the ground, “oops, i dropt my swipper again.”

you and lisa make eye contact from across the room and she pushes her bottom lip out in a pout before scrunching her face and putting a hand over her chest and you make the same expression in return to tell her that oh my god, i know, right?!

“alright, miss mia, do you wanna sit down for me?” you hum, sitting down cross-legged before patting your lap, “it’ll be easier for me to put your slippers on if you’re sitting.”

mia nods before plopping herself down on your lap and you nearly let out a coo when you notice how teeny weeny her slippers are

they’re just so cute! and they’re basically the size of your hand!!!!!!

“how old are you, mia?” you ask, taking her slippers from her before lifting one of her chubby little legs up so you can put a slipper on

“thwee.” she holds four fingers up and you giggle, reaching over to put one of them down for her, “i’m thwee.” she kicks her legs slightly, sticking the one with the slipper up into the air before wiggling her toes

»»————- 🧸 ————-««

jimin smiles to himself as he looks around the room, feeling weirdly proud at how well all of you are looking after the little ones even though his teaching has nothing to do with how good you guys are with kids

he started the class off with a few warm-up exercises and was very impressed at how well the little girls followed his lead (to be honest he’s already picked out the ones that would survive in his class when they’re older, and it’s definitely not the one that started twirling around in ditzy, uncoordinated circles when he asked everyone to get into third position), and it’s only been about twenty minutes but according to the schedule given to him, they take ten minute breaks every twenty minutes which seems a little too lax for his liking, but then again — he’s not a teacher for toddlers, so who is he to say what’s right and what’s wrong?

and he has to admit that it was hard to not watch you the entire time you were guiding your girls and showing them how to do everything properly (“demi-plie, mia! keep your back straight just like me…”)

at first he was going to tell you off because you were kneeled on the ground while he was teaching up front but then he realized you were only doing it so you could help the little ones with positioning their feet, and not to mention, you weren’t just helping your own two ballereenies, you were helping whichever ones were around you which was just… so nice to see

and perhaps the others will suspect him of favouritism because he’s pretty sure lisa caught him staring fondly at you at one point but it’s not like anyone would ever confront him about it so he’s really not too worried

“and at home, i- i do- um, i do, um, dance evewywhere and my favouwite- favouwite song is wet it go from fwozen because anna and elsa-“

“speaking of let it go- emma, you better let go of my bun before you yank my hair off my head!”

jimin’s ears perk up in interest when he hears your voice among the many voices and squeals and giggles in the room and he turns around, eyes scanning the room until he finally lands on you to see you surrounded by six of the baby ballerinas

you’ve got one of them sitting on your lap with her hand buried in a pack of animal crackers (none of them brought snacks with them so he’s assuming those came from you), one of them with their arms slung over you from behind and her cheek pressed to your shoulder, three of them sitting cross-legged around you, and the last one prancing around you chatting away excitedly

you wrap your arm securely around the one sitting on your lap, reaching down to smooth some of her hair back before leaning over a little to look at her and ask if she’s alright, and she nods in response before holding a cracker up for you to take

jimin feels his heart skip a beat at the adorable sight because he was certainly not aware of how good you are with children

he can’t help but chuckle when he notices you showing off your leg warmers off

so cute

so, so cute

his eyes widen when you look up and immediately lock gazes with him only for you to wave at him shyly before returning your attention to the girls after jimin returns a smile and a wave of his own

you and y/n would make a really cute baby, the intrusive voice in his head tells him as his arm drops back to his side, and jimin finds his cheeks flushing slightly at the thought of a teeny little y/n trailing behind him like a little duckling

he could dress her up in her ballet clothes and put bows in her hair and train her to become the best ballerina the world has ever seen and she’d have your hair and eyes and his nose and mouth and she’d be so sweet and kind like you but strong and tenacious like him

and not to sound like a hormonal boy or anything but the process of baby-making seems like it’d be very fun

…

“mr. park, y/n’s stealing all the kids!” jimin looks over when he hears seulgi whining and he resists the urge to snort at how huffy she’s being, “i took two of them like you told us to but all of them are like, gravitating towards y/n for some reason-“

“well, i guess there’s just something about y/n that they like, seulgi.” jimin responds with a shrug, keeping his eyes glued on you with a fond smile twitching at the corner of his mouth

🎙️ ask y/n where she gets her leg warmers (talk to my characters!)

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (full fics!)

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

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reveluving · 1 year

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Can you do one where Batmom loves doing ballet? Maybe with her in the ballroom dancing, and the kids come in. Cassandra immediately goes to join her and the boys want to try so batmom and cass try to teach them? And then at the end Bruce sneaks in and watches then fondly?

P.S. I love your work :)

a/n: to whomever sent this request last year (+ a couple of others), I am so sorry for only doing this now lol BUT! y'all know I love a fluffy batfam moment! 💗💗💗 changed it up a bit and also, thank you so much!!

warnings: fluffy fluff! (ballerina!cass !!!)

check out my batmom m.list !

Cass is an expert of many things, but your absolute favourite has to be her love for ballet!

It was no surprise how much she's incorporated her ballet knowledge into her fighting style—not to the point where anyone could see the similarities between Cass and Orphan, but just enough to give her certain advantages that the rest didn't have.

The first time Cass gave you the invitation to her recital was when she stopped by the café as usual one fine afternoon.

You had expected a form for a trip that needed your permission but no, it was so. much. better.

Not only was Cass' name handwritten in gold ink, but she was going solo for that matter?

You immediately tackled her into the biggest, most bone-crushing hug you could muster. Nothing Cass couldn't handle, though, in fact, she reciprocated your own happiness, grinning and giggling as you wouldn't stop gushing about how proud you were and how you needed to call Bruce, even if it was still office hours.

And you did just that!

Bruce thankfully didn't have any pressing matter when you rang him up, picking up the phone in one hand and idly checking some reports with the other. He stopped caring for the papers in hand though, not when he could hear how excited you sounded.

"We're invited to Cass' first recital next month!" You squealed, the soft of giggles of your not-so-little girl didn't go amiss on the line, "You have to clear your schedule."

Bruce grinned, both at the news and your sudden seriousness. You didn't have to tell him and you knew it, for he immediately wrote the date on a piece of paper to be passed to his assistant later on.

Cass also took the opportunity to share the news with the rest of the family, with all of their congrats and compliments ranging from Alfred and Damian's detailed praises for her appreciation in such fine art, to Dick's chaotic but meaningful cheers in all caps lock, with a side of triple fire emojis.

All in all, it was almost overwhelming for her—no matter how subtle Bruce tried to be in moving the old, almost depressing paintings out of the manor's ballroom after learning about her hobby, or how you'd bring over a single chair in the middle of the room to watch her new move without hesitation, or how Alfred made sure the manor's ballroom was always squeaky clean for her own use, she would be in awe of how fate brought her here.

A place where she not only fought for the safety of others, but also a place where she could finally make a name for herself the way she wanted.

Despite your protests, Cass helped you around the café that day, too happy to just sit down when she could channel that energy by lending a hand. You were thankful for the extra pair of hands though, for you wanted nothing more than to celebrate with her at home.

It was only fitting to bring her to the ballroom, the person praising her now was Alfred, who had came in with tea to pair with the extra cookies you brought from the café.

There was really no other way to channel your own joy other than to dance with her—from pirouettes to a grand jeté together. You learned from the best after all, how could you ever say no when she once shyly offered to teach you how to properly plie once upon a time?

With the classical music paired with Alfred's claps and the three of you laughing, it wouldn't take long for the rest of your family, besides Bruce, to investigate as soon as they're home. Some readily came with gifts, others were ready to properly congratulate Cass as texting did little to no justice. But seeing how much fun you were having, they believe it was best to at least wait till the music ended.

But ever the perceptive child, Cass was quick to notice the newcomers and immediately waved at them. They all huddled around her, with Cass growing flustered by the sheer attention she was getting in one day. She did somewhat expect a positive reaction, but not to this extend, but she wouldn't have it any other way.

You and Alfred watched the sight fondly, your smiles growing bigger when one of them had asked her to teach them a thing or two. And just like chain reaction, almost everyone was trying it out. It was hilarious, to say the least, seeing them, ranging from tall, buff, serious and just almost out of place, glancing at one another as they sought the girl's approval for their plie.

"I wasn't aware of a party." You sucked in a breath, the unexpected arrival of your husband taking you by surprise, let alone when his arms wove around your waist and then kissed you on the crown of your head. You leaned into him, caressing the back of his hand before letting his intertwine his fingers with yours.

"It's only fair," You sighed, not wanting to tear your eyes away from the tooth-rotting moment before you. You felt Bruce's chest vibrate on occasion, no doubt amused to see some making it a competition to see who was best, "Our girl deserves it."

Our girl.

As if on command, Bruce's hand lightly brushed over your tummy. You didn't stop him, only to gasp when he proceeded to tickle you and shared a laugh. You threw your head to the side, giving him the opportunity to nuzzle into your neck and be in your own world just as your children was.

To say Cass was in heaven was an understatement, and though her life started rough, she had always thanked the universe for shining her to the path that actually mattered to her most.

With the people she was meant to be with.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

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gabessquishytum · 4 months

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Saw an old Ballet AU ask and just... I'm melting.

I love my clichés, so ex-dancer Dream who is a single father to Orpheus. Dream is very bitter about not being able to dance anymore due to an injury + not having time for physical therapy. So it takes some courage for Orpheus to ask him to teach him to dance. Dream refuses but signs Orpheus up to a dance class, somewhere where he can dance and Dream doesn't have to think about dancing.

Enter ballet teacher Hob, who just wants his young students to have fun. Dream is a little surprised that Orpheus doesn't come home exhausted and miserable like he used to. He decides to check the class out, just to make sure he's not paying crazy money for a scam.

Hob is not a scammer for sure. What the kids are doing is learning ballet. But Hob does not scream at them when they mess up, doesn't make them do something over and over again until they collapse. He gently motivates them and lets them set their own pace.

Dream tells himself he will not visit the class ever again after he made sure it's legit. It made his heart ache to see Orpheus, who is his little clone, dance like he used to. But then there is this event where the kids are supposed to bring their parents and Death was supposed to fill in for Dream but she [insert excuse] at the last minute and he has to go because Orpheus would be heartbroken if he didn't attend. Nothing can be done; Dream will just explain that he's had a serious injury and can't dance. Hopefully, they will still let Orpheus participate.

But Hob assures him that he will not make him do anything difficult, he should at least try, for Orpheus, and when Dream is exhausted, Hob will gladly fill in for him, but please try... Dream is easily swayed by Hob's doe eyes and agrees. And he absolutely regrets telling Hob about the injury because Hob remains close by his side, supporting him through movements that should be difficult to an amateur that Dream would still manage in his sleep. He is basically dancing with Hob as Hob keeps his hands on Dream, and for a moment even Orpheus is forgotten, though he doesn't mind because he's finally seeing his dad smile! Probably for the first time ever.

I'll cut it off here before it becomes an entire ficlet. XD You all know how the story goes, anyway.

- 🚒

Am crying softly. I bet Dream was so torn up when Orpheus said he wanted to do ballet. Of course Dream would do anything for his son, but with his past, its so painful to see this little mini version of himself following the same path that he once took. His relief in knowing that Orpheus is being treated with kindness and is actually enjoying himself almost makes him burst into tears.

Hob actually recognises Dream from his previous career, but he doesn't go all fanboy on him when they first meet. Hob is gentle, kind, and just a tiny bit pushy - the perfect combination of things to persuade Dream that maybe he can dance. This one time.

And Hob gets to watch as Dream’s body wakes up from its long dormancy. Its the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Orpheus is grinning and twirling around with pure joy, and Dream is absolutely beaming - and oh dear, Hob might be just a tiny bit in love.

At the end of the event when Hob offers Dream an hour each week in the studio to practice some gentle dance, he promises that he'll be around to support him both physically and emotionally. He doesn't quite anticipate that Dream will lean in and kiss him on the cheek. Or that Orpheus will hug him so tightly.

And oh, he's not just a little bit in love. He's head over heels!

#🚒 anon #the sandman #dreamling

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sunnys-out · 6 months

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Dance the Night | Lucy Bronze

A/N: Based on this request. Please enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, I am actually going to have a FaceTime date with my own Northern English, defender this Sunday so wish me luck :)

Also, I imagine that these are the types of dance covers that you would post on Tik Tok btw.

Word count: 2823

Warnings: Suggestive themes/statements

Baby, you can find me under the lights

Diamonds under my eyes

Turn the rhythm up, don't you wanna just

Come along for the ride?

Oh, my outfit is so tight

You can see my heartbeat tonight

I can take the heat, baby, best believe

That's the moment I shine

Lucy and I had the shared experience of playing in an American university. The only difference was that UC Berkeley was my home for my time there.

One of the things that I did during my four years at Cal that made them special and even was something that people loved learning about me was that I was also a part of a dance group whilst playing football. When I was in America, I found that dance was a good way to maintain my cardio and it was a fun way to keep my mind off of football for a bit. I used to do ballet as a kid and did some hip-hop dancing as I grew older so it was not something too out of the ordinary.

Even though football was my true calling, that did not stop me from dancing in the locker rooms before games, and posting little dance covers on Tik Tok during camps at the behest of Mary Earps. The only reason that the fans got wind of the fact that I’m that teammate constantly dancing was because of Lucy, who was filming one time before we played in a friendly against Germany and posting it on Instagram. She says that I didn’t pull her immediately that day but I know Lucy and I saw the way she watched me behind the phone as I danced to Work Out by J. Cole.

During the Euros, it became a thing, I guess, for the main Lionesses Instagram to post my pregame dances in the locker room. One of those I ended up teaching Miss Lucy Bronze how to slow dance which turned into a faster dance much to Lucy’s dismay. Lucy twirling me into a hold was the focal point of the video and I get why this one became a fan favorite and material for loads of couple edits of us.

The caption of said post, “@bbcstrictly @y/n is waiting for her call-up! 👀”

Of course I commented, “@y/n: @bbcstrictly ok but actually I would be down, I love love love the show 💃🙏”

Post win at the Euros, I was getting a call from the producers of Strictly Come Dancing to perform a one-time, special dance. They said that it was some kind of honoring fit for a new European champion.

I worked it out with my management that it would definitely be something that I could do after the World Cup since that was my next objective after a successful Euros run.

During the off time in the World Cup, I found myself talking to the producers as they had ideas of the performance and the choreography that would go with it. So, sometimes I would have to deny a walk with Lucy to figure out some logistics. I was met with a small but still visible pout from Lucy as she only nodded and would call up Jordan to take my place.

My attention was monopolized once we finalized what song and choreography we were aiming for and of course my new dance partner. I didn’t really know the guy but apparently he was on a reality show and all the girls were after him. The only taste of reality shows that I had was occasionally watching Love Island over Rachel and Millie’s shoulders on bus rides to games. I did not understand at all what went on but the drama was entertaining from what I saw.

______________________________________________________________

“So, you’re not going to tell me the name of the song you will be dancing to?” Lucy said as she remained sitting on the hotel bed as she watched me change into something nicer than the training set I had been in all day. Eyes trained on me the whole time.

“Nope, it’s a surprise, baby. Sworn to secrecy anyways” I said as I got ready for our walk.

Lucy frowned as she started scratching her neck “well at least show me who you are going to be dancing with, like what if it’s a weirdo you know?”

I comply and give her my phone after I look up the name of the guy they had paired me up with.

“Not too bad looking right?” I tease, as I put on some dunks and ask for my phone back.

Lucy raised an eyebrow and laughed a little, “I know I can’t dance like you but ya think it’s too late to ask if I could be your dance partner?”

Now it was my turn to laugh, “don’t be jealous baby, now let’s get going there is a cafe with a chocolate pastry I wanted to try!”

I pulled her up ignoring the small pout and muttering “ ‘m not jealous” as I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and dragged her out of the door.

______________________________________________________________

After our loss at the World Cup final and a lot of tearful goodbyes to the other girls, Lucy and I made our way back to Barcelona and just took some time to decompress.

One of Lucy’s favorite things to wake up to was seeing me in the kitchen making myself breakfast, dancing in silence with my airpods in my ears without a care in the world.

This particular Saturday morning, however, she was confused because instead of a loose, messy bun, my hair was brushed and down.

Instead of one of my old, English training shirts, I was in a lilac crop top and denim shorts that showed off my legs and not my old PSG shorts.

As she got closer, the smell of her favorite perfume on me hit her nose, suddenly Lucy stood there wondering what day it was and did she fuck up and forgot some anniversary.

As I turned to go to our fridge to pull out the water pitcher, I caught sight of Lucy just standing by the kitchen island.

“Baby, you know it’s rude to stare” I tease and followed up with a quick kiss on her cheek “Good Morning, sleepy head”

Lucy remained silent for a beat before going, “Why are you all dressed up on a Saturday morning?...Did I forget something?”

She rubbed her eyes, lifting her clear glasses as she did so.

“Nope, our anniversary is still Bastille day, uh my birthday hasn’t changed and yours is still in October” I listed them off on my fingers and then continued as if I didn’t leave Lucy even more confused as I began cleaning the counter.

A pair of arms wrapped around me stopping me in my tracks as Lucy burrowed her head into my neck taking in the perfume I wore.

“Then will Miss L/N tell me where she is going dressed like this, hm?” She mumbled as she placed a chaste kiss on my neck.

“Going to get lunch with…ugh what was his name? The one I'm going to be dancing with for Strictly Dancing, baby” I say, nonchalantly, a smirk creeping at my mouth as I felt Lucy’s arms tighten around me and her mouth getting close to my ear.

Lucy did not show jealousy often but I loved it when she did. I loved teasing her but she would always dismiss it saying that she knew that I was hers so why should she worry. But the tone of her voice gave her away.

“Oh really?” She says softly in my ear before turning me around my back to the countertop now. My face remained unfazed as I nodded, even though I was loving everything about the interaction.

“Yes?” I nod over to the other counter across from me. “I made you some breakfast so ya don’t miss me too much, even cut you some fruit”.

The softness and nonchalant nature of my voice made her jaw tightened a bit.

“Want me to go with you?” she said not letting me go, still caging me in against the counter.

I thought for a moment and then shook my head “no” and simply replied.

“I’m a big girl. Don’t you worry, Lucia” My eyebrows raised slightly as Lucy pulled back.

Lucy moves her arms back to her side, “Fine, but I’m driving you”

She did end up driving me to the little brunch place and ignored my “protests” of “you don’t have to walk me to the restaurant, Luce” as she held me tightly at the waist, her hand possessively on the bare skin on my waist.

I let myself out of Lucy’s hold as I introduced myself to my dance partner. He truly was the object of every other girls dream…just not mine. He wasn’t unattractive at all. Even though Lucy came literally holding me at the waist, it didn’t stop my dance partner from subtly looking me up at down.

“Well, it’s great to meet a Euro Champion and a world cup finalist, (y/n)” he said avoiding Lucy’s glare through her sunglasses.

I stop him and laughed, “well technically two, this is Lucy Bronze, my partner, she was just dropping me off”

Lucy only extends her hand out to the guy and firmly shakes his hand and mutters out “pleasure”.

The guy only nods “well, I’ll make sure she gets home safely”.

I hide the smile on my face when I saw Lucy, still holding his hand, say bluntly.

“Oh? No, I’ll be picking her up, don’t you worry” the guy’s hand falling limp as she let’s go.

I give Lucy a hug and planned to just give her a quick kiss on the cheek but she pulled me closer to her by the waist and gave me a slow kiss on the lips,

Before I pull away, she whispered quietly in my ear, “just wanted to make sure he knows who you're coming home to”

______________________________________________________________

The little brunch outing was interesting to say the least. The boy was bold given Lucy did stare him down when she picked me up like she promised. Especially as we left the restaurant but I, kindly, avoided his “subtle” advances of him trying to lead me to Lucy’s car.

What had been discussed about the dance and from what I could see is that I would be the main focal point and he would be, for lack of a better term, an accessory. I, of course, would not be telling Lucy that immediately, I was very much enjoying the attention she was giving me.

It being essentially a solo dance made it easier since I have training and I wouldn't have to rely on someone else to also learn the choreography…which allowed for me to work on a little surprise for Lucy with my extra free time.

______________________________________________________________

“Baby, can you help me with something?” I yelled down the hall of our shared apartment.

Lucy came in shortly with a raised eyebrow “ yeah what’s up?”

“Remember how you said that you wanted to be my dance partner instead of what’s his face?” I say as I move some of our furniture out of the way to make space in the middle all while trying to not hit Narla in the process.

Lucy looked at me confused and with a laugh said, “I never said that…what’d you need though?”

I grab her hands and pull her to the middle of our living room “Well can you be my dance partner? You know with all the training and all I can’t really practice the choreo with him…so you want to help me?”

Lucy smiled and nodded as she pulled me closer to her and gave me a twirl “Ok, miss l/n, lead on”

______________________________________________________________

My, sweet, Lucia can be a wonderful dancer when she puts time into in. She followed my direction even though the “quick movements of the dance” were something she would have to get used to but eventually after a couple of weeks. She was able to fluidly hold me and move with me.

Narla definitely got a kick out of her two moms doing something akin to the salsa in the living room. I would say Lucy, even with the groans and complaints, secretly, enjoyed it as well.

The day of filming came quickly and out of nowhere and we were filming it in the streets of Barcelona; there was just no way we would be able to fly to England and back, especially with pre-season and games starting.

I just want to give a special thank you to M&S for giving Lucy that outfit she wore during that one photoshoot we had with England, honestly, doing the Lord’s work. I had subtly asked that I would love to see her wear it again and again subtly suggested she wear it to the Strictly Dancing shoot and I just love it when she listens to me.

Luce was behind the cameras and chatted with the producers as they waited for me to come out of the dressing room ready to film.

As I was led out with my hand loosely in my dance partner’s I reveled the intensity of Lucy’s stare.

Why?

Well I had a silver, fringe dress with an open back and the dress came up to my mid thigh and matching high heels and, well the fact, my dance partner was trying ever so slightly to get closer to me as we were speaking with the director.

As we got into position, center “stage” in the streets of Barcelona, I look over to Lucy and give a quick wink to her.

“Dance the Night by Dua Lipa” started to play on the set. I began moving quickly and sensually and interacting very little with my partner. The fringe of the dress definitely did not leave much to the imagination. There were parts where his hand would find my waist but those lasted only a few seconds.

Lucy watched, not letting me escape her sight and hid her frown as she noted the times my dance partner would slow the movements of his hands once they reached my waist or when he looked me over as I danced a little ahead of him.

We did not anticipate it being a one take but it was something that I wanted as it was more real in a way. As the music faded and the host came onto the stage to interview me, I caught Lucy in the corner of my eye, and she was smiling so big and visibly more relaxed.

“(y/n), so happy you could be here and we are just so happy to celebrate you and your achievements. How does it feel?” I hold the microphone, still catching my breath

“I loved this to be honest, love the show, and dancing is just something that I enjoy other than football. Uh, it’s definitely been some time since I’ve performed at this scale but it was absolutely a treat, thank you all for inviting me” I said gesturing to the crew members.

“Well, again we are happy to be a part of this and we know that another Euro Champions is in our midst, and I know that you had a little something prepared for the both of you?” The cameras now focused on a very confused Lucy.

I laugh and continue, “Yes, Miss Bronze, she thinks she has been helping me practice for this sole performance but we were actually going to dance together as well, come on babe” I gesture for her to come onto the stage.

The interviewer walks off announcing, “and now for a special dance by the Euro Champions and World Cup Finalists choreographed by Miss (y/n) (l/n)”.

Lucy finally reached me and whispered, “You little sneak,you planned this didn’t you?”

I only wink and immediately pushed Lucy into position like we have been doing at home in our living room.

“Maybe~” The music restarted and Lucy with the biggest smile on her face did everything perfectly. There were some slips in the movement but they were replaced with laughter as Lucy held onto me tightly as the music faded.

She hugged me tightly whispering, “Im so proud of you” her hands finding their place at my hips.

I gave her a quick kiss on the lips as we both ignored the claps from the crew members.

“So…would it be wrong to ask if you can keep the dress?” I smack her slightly at the question.

I give her a knowing smile, “Dress is mine to keep, but I don’t want to keep it on for too long, Miss Lucia Bronze”

I have never seen Lucy excuse herself, thank all the crew members and wish everyone a wonderful weekend so quickly before carrying me off the set in the midst of a fit of laughter.

Let’s just say that these scenes from the recording quickly overtook the locker room dance in edits and well it was all worth the teasing from our teammates when it finally aired.

#lucy bronze #engwnt x reader #lionesses #barca femeni #engwnt #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze x reader #woso x reader

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iheartjameshetfield · 6 months

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Having kids with early/mid 80’s James 🤭

like yeah he’s young but there’s nothing that makes happier than his little family 💗

AHHH THIS IS SO SWEETTTTT

we all know damn well that the kid would be an accident 💀. he was fucking petrified when you told him the news since he was almost 1000% sure that he would fuck this kid up the same way his dad fucked him up.

you tried to reassure him multiple times throughout your pregnancy that he would be the best father there is, and you’d be there to help him, but he had no trust in himself whatsoever. the only thing that he knew for sure was. that no matter how hard it gets, he would never leave and put you and your kid through the same thing he went through.

even with all this, he was still the best person to have by your side during your pregnancy. he always tried to make sure that you’re comfortable, placing a pillow behind your back, head, and legs or he’d cover you with a blanket. he would get you whatever you’re craving, and if it wasn’t in the house, he would go and get it from the supermarket no matter the time.

he would constantly read books about parenting and pregnancy, making sure you get the best treatment. whenever you’d pat your belly, he’d get worried that you pat a little harder than you should, telling you to be more careful.

i feel like he would be the type of person to talk to your unborn child, like whenever he disagrees with you or just saying smth sweet to the baby like “we can’t wait to see you” or “see that? your mom wants to name you paul” he laughs as he makes fun of you with the baby.

when the child is born, hes definitely the type of dad to force everyone to wash the hands, wipes, and sanitize at least three times each before letting anyone touch the baby, including you.

for the first month or so after you give birth, he would always be the one to get up in the middle of the night for the baby, telling you to get your rest. after a while, he is literally prepared to play rock paper scissors with you at 3 in the morning to see who’ll get up.

you know that trick that almost every dad does when they toss their kid like 5 feet up in the air and catch them, giving all the moms a heart attack? yeah, he invented that trick. you’ve probably seen your baby in the air more than you’ve seen it in someone’s arms or the stroller or smth.

i truly believe that when the baby babbles, he babbles back. like the baby would say smth in gibberish and james would mimic the baby, conversing in their own language. or james would also respond with stuff like an exaggerated “no way!!” or “what else happened, tell me more”

he probably would’ve been rooting for a boy. he would be sooooooo excited if you had a boy, already planning on causing a lot of mischief with him.

he would teach his son how to play sports and guitar and all the stuff he’s interested in. james would race him and play wrestling games with him and pretend to lose.

even though he wanted a boy, when his little girl came, he would instantly change his mind, hoping that every future kid that comes would be a girl.

from day one and he would shower her with kisses and gifts, making sure she gets treated like the princess she is.

james definitely has tea parties with his little girl. he’d let her put hair clips in his hair, paint his nails a messy pink and accessories him in plastic beaded necklaces and bracelets. or whenever they’d play with dolls, he would speak in a high pitched voice like a girl’s voice after his daughter would force him to.

james would show up at every ballet practice and recital ever, refusing to not show up at a single thing. he would pick her up and drop her off at her practices, loving how his little girl comes running to him with open arms during every break she has. he’ll never miss the look his daughter had in her face when she spotted her parents in the crowd during her show, her eyes glinting as her smile brightened.

when she’s done with her dance, she’d leap into her father’s arms, you and james cradling her in a hug. “you were amazing princess. that was awesome!!” james would compliment her.

i feel like no matter what gender the baby is, they would want to be just like their dad in every way. the long hair, the band shirts, his guitar skills. whenever you see james around the house, you’d spot his little carbon copy waddling behind him in a custom ‘Metallica’ shirt and sunglasses that practically swallow your baby’s face.

when his kid is a little older, he’d want you to bring them to one of his shows, wanting his kid to see him on stage. he’d even show off his toddler to the crowd, showing off the newest member of the hetfield clan to the world.

this is me speaking off of real experiences btw

#he’d be such a cute dad i cant #metallica #james hetfield #james hetfield metallica #james hetfield fanfic #james hetfield x reader #asks and replies #james hetfield headcannons

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polishedtaylor · 4 months

Text

Dance With You Tonight - Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Authors Note: Idk who will all read this but hello, I'm Maddie! And welcome to my first written fic ever!! Pls do not judge if this is badly written😭 I would like to thank @punkshort for giving me the confidence for getting this actually written and beta-ing and this and giving me feedback. Much love and enjoy reading! xoxo

Series masterlist next chapter

Synopsis: You were training and studying to become a professional ballet dancer, until fate had other plans. Leaving you crushed and headed into a new career path. Becoming a dance teacher, a way of keeping dance in your life. Still in the process of healing, you meet Joel Miller. A single dad working as a contractor, trying to make his little girl happy by signing her up for dance lessons. Guarded when you first meet him, he teaches you to love a way you haven't before.

Chapter warnings: Some swearing but that's it for now. Lightly edited. No Y/N

Chapter 1 - Beautiful Stranger (wordcount: 1.5k)

Dancing was your passion, you had been doing it your entire life. It was clear from the start when your mom took you to see your first professional ballet performance. The costumes, the subtle movements and the rhythm of the music. Setting a goal from when you were just a kid, dreaming you would make it as a ballerina. It was easy to say that dance was your calling, being said from dance instructors. And even being accepted into The Boston Ballet. You had a bright future of dance ahead, you could picture it then. Being on a stage, the bright lights focused on only you. Where you danced for a full audience in a theater.

Unfortunately right out of graduating, those dreams came crashing to a halt. It was all because of the accident. It kept you from your training, and not being able to keep up with your dance peers.

You felt there was no direction your life was going anymore, when you had moved back home to Texas to heal, where there was nothing to keep you busy. Then, Miss Beatrice’s dance works came into motion. You were given an opportunity to teach childrens beginners ballet. Your parents urged you to do something productive like this. Thinking you might as well keep some part of dancing in your life, you accepted.

You were playing the light piano music from your phone, and faced the bright eyed little kids. First practice of the season always seemed to go smoothly. Some were not as excited to be there as others, but nonetheless, you began instruction. Introducing them to the basics, the 5 basic positions. And had them walk across the room doing different movements with their arms.

Then you hear the metal door suddenly open, looking away from your students, you see a broad frame with a duffel bag shoved in his left hand and rushing his daughter to sit on the chair to slip her ballet shoes on.

“Um pardon the interruption…” he said sincerely. You stop your teaching to smile and walk out of the studio and into the waiting room.

“That's alright…we aren’t even ten minutes in.” you waved him off, and eyes wandered to the curly haired girl rushing in the waiting room.

‘Keep on practicing the positions girls..” you say as you walk out the door to greet the dad. You look over to the girl and smile. “You must be Sarah.” You say she nods enthusiastically and beams. “I’m Joel, Sarah’s dad” he introduced himself, holding his hand out for you to take it. His hands were calloused but felt comforting, different from your delicate hand. You could almost feel your breath hitch. “Sorry for bein’ late for the first practice… I was behind at work and was in rush gettin’ home to pick her up.” he said with a sincere face. You examine his features, dark brown eyes that look like they've seen a lot. And lines that were deepening on his forehead.

You introduce yourself and continue to reassure him. “Again it is no problem at all, just as long as you don't make it a habit.” you tease lightly. He chuckles and runs his hand through his hair. He looks around to see the other parents of the dancers getting agitated, which you notice and realize you need to continue class. “Well Joel, if you aren't busy you are welcome to sit on the bench and watch.” you smile and fold your two hands together. He did just that and took a breath, placing his hands on his knees. “C’mon Sarah, let’s head in.” she skips behind you and you shut the door behind. You gave a warm smile and had her stand at the bar with the others.

Class then resumes and you catch Sarah up. Joel watches your softness teaching, and your gentle movements as you demonstrated to the peaceful music. Standing on your tiptoes and raising your arms, Joel notices the happiness in your eyes right away. It's as if you entered a completely different reality. He appreciates watching you helping Sarah when she was struggling. Urging her to take a deep breath when she got frustrated.

Time passed and class ended, the kids rushing out to their parents and babbling. You walk behind them and walk to the desk in the studio office, grabbing papers and handing them to Joel. You were giving him the rundown of fundraising for the studio, and telling him that you needed Sarah's clothing size for therecital costume. You smiled as you saw him struggling to keep a note of all the important things, but he wanted to know and stay involved as much as possible for his kid. He smirked and held the papers up. “You got it.” He then found Sarah, and you waved as they walked out the door with the other families.

After the studio was cleared for the evening, you collected your bag and water bottle. Then you walked out of the building.

Unlocking your apartment door you took a deep breath. Not even wanting to think about dinner, you plopped yourself on your couch. Then dialed the nearby Chinese place a few blocks from your place on your phone. Deciding to order takeout, seems like the easiest choice, you think to yourself.

While waiting for your food you got up and prepared a side salad for yourself in your tiny kitchen. Then rested your elbow on the counter and scrolled through your missed calls. A few being from your mom, shit. You then decide to call her tomorrow, it has already been a long day. Along with wanting to start choreographing the recital dance, even though it would be months away, you still wanted to feel on top of things.

A few hours then passed, and the discarded chinese boxes were still on your coffee table. You had your laptop laying on your chest as you focused. Then looking at the time you groan, placing your laptop at the edge of the couch. You then sit up and stretch, and get ready for bed.

You are now snuggled into the soft duvet and your head resting on your pillow. Your mind wandering in your pool of thoughts as you try to sleep. You cannot help but keep thinking of Joel. Something about him made you want to learn more.

A few days pass and you are currently in between classes, so you took a break in your office. Typing away on your computer, replying to emails sent by parents, and filling out papers for Miss Beatrice, who owns the studio.

Completely focused on your work, there was a light knock on your door. Startled out of your trance, you looked up. It was Joel, who had a nervous smile as he held his hand up to wave.

“Hope m’ not interruptin’ anything?” he says cautiously. You shake your head, close your laptop and tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Not at all, Mr. Miller. Come on in.” you give a warm smile and gesture for him to sit down at the seat across from your desk. He does so and sits himself down and clears his throat. “None of that, please…Mr. Miller is my father.” he teases. You smile and begin talking again, “Alright then, Joel. What can I help you with?” you smile.

He shifts in his seat and rubs the back of his neck. You could tell something was bothering him. “Sarah has been talkin’ about starting dance lessons for a while now, and I’m excited I was able to get her here.” You nod, and Joel continues talking. “The problem is that I had no idea how much this would cost..” he slightly chuckles.

“Joel, we are very flexible with our parents. We even offer all sorts of different sorts of payment plans.” you explain. He slowly nods and gives a sigh of relief. “And I will do everything I can to help you guys...Sarah is a really bright student. I would hate to see her leave.” you say sincerely.

“Thank you very much.” he says. “Really means a lot..what you say ‘bout Sarah.” he says proudly. There's a beat of silence between Joel and you. Next thing you know you’re looking in your desk drawer for a sticky note. Scribbling down your number on the piece of paper and slide it across to him. He takes it and examines it. “What’s this?” he drawls.

“It’s my phone number, in case you have any more questions for me.” you smile. He nods with a smile. “I really wish I could help you more today, but I have another class that starts in a few minutes.” you say. Joel then stands up and puts the piece of paper in his back jean pocket. He then follows you out of the office, and you open the door. Noticing him gently placing his hand on the small of your back.

After you both say final goodbyes, you take a deep breath. Watching him exit the building you turn around. It's okay, It's okay, you give all the parents your phone number. You think to yourself. Your mind was churning. You enter the studio and begin warming up and greet the students as they walk in.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedropascaledit #pre outbreak!joel x reader #joel miller #pre outbreak!joel #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #the last of us edit #tlouedit #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller edit #joel miller x oc #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader

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thenewausten · 2 months

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Heyy !! Could u do some dad Quackity hcs

Suree! Thanks for the request!

Dad Quackity HC'S!

In my head Quackity is such a girl's dad, but I think he'd like to have a little boy too :(

Here's what I thought:

Quackity being a girl's dad:

The first time Alex held his little daughter he thought she was the most perfect thing of the world, he was so dedicated with her, afraid that maybe she might break somehow.

He's smart so he learned with you how to do everything so he could help you, he knew maternity wasn't a easy thing so he was there for you all the time, asking if you needed something, checking on your daughter and sometimes just admiring the little person you two made :(

He'd decorate your daughter's bedroom with a lot of toys, I can imagine you two deciding the colour of the walls: a light shade of yellow and on top of a little table, a picture frame of the three of you!

He'd also buy a lot of dresses for her, a lot of hair ties and pink socks with delicate shoes (it's his hobby).

I think not only him but the both of you would be very protective over her, not letting anyone get close and always checking on her if the three of you were in a meeting or even at your family's house.

He'd be such a great father for you daughter and as she grew up she'd love him with her heart, looking for comfort in his arms and always falling asleep in his lap.

When she was like, maybe six years old, he'd want to put her in ballet classes, he'd be one of those proud father's who says "That's my daughter over there" in presentations hdudjdj

If Alex needed to be firm in his words with your daughter, he'd be, but he'd never raise his hand to her not matter what.

Quackity being a boy's dad:

Oh my, Quackity with a son would be so chaotic... He'd of course learn how to take care of him to help you, would be always there for you and for him so you could sleep a little and would for sure admire him as he sleeps :(

Would definitely put his beanies in him to laugh and take pictures (and he'd put it as his wallpaper)

He'd buy a lot of toy cars to him and a lot of beanies and caps to him, also I think he'd ask you to let his hair grow so he'd be the little Alex Quackity (lmao).

He'd want to put him in football classes when he was a little bit older, like ten or something, or maybe in jujitsu so he could learn how to defend himself and practice some sport.

Alex would be also very protective over his son, and they'd be best friends for life, if he needed to be firm in his words, he'd be, but his son would look at his father and see his own and favourite superhero <3

Quackity being a girl's and a boy's dad:

I think if you two had a daughter and a son you'd be very happy as well, Quackity and his sister in real life seems to be very close so he'd want them to be close too. The house would always be filled with joy and toy's, a little bit chaotic but with lots of love involved.

You and him would teach your kids how to protect each other and always look for each other no matter what. "Mis hijos, to have siblings means always having a home to return if nothing goes right."

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy the writing! :)

Requests are open!

#quackity fluff #quackity imagines #quackity imagine #quackity x reader #quackityhq #quackity #qsmp #quackity x y/n #alex quackity #quackity x you #quackity qsmp

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ceebit · 1 year

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joshua being a single dad and falling in love with his daughter’s ballet teacher....... ☹️

astronomical fuck-up for one, please

why do you guys like giving me cute ass ideas with the guy y’all know i’m not the most normal about in the slightest oh my god. clutching my purses and pearls and rubies and robes and— and—

“you should talk to them today. like actually talk, and not just stare at them like a creep from the pickup spot. you know, like normal people do.”

joshua closes his eyes at the jab, exuding patience of the high order, because he knows there’s a wicked grin paired with what he supposes is half-assed sentiment. but he’s not staring. wasn’t staring, has never been staring—

he’s just admiring talent. an hour earlier than he’s supposed to even be there. but hey, he was in the area and was roped into a conversation with one of the moms—he didn’t see the point in leaving. his afternoon was free, anyway, and the way maia’s eyes lit up when she saw him during a break gave him all the more reason to stay.

except, seungkwan seems to particularly enjoy pressing his perfectly curated buttons each time he sees him, and today was no exception. seated at a table in the in-house cafe, the noiret crosses one leg over the other and stares him down, and joshua is more than happy to stare right back.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answers simply, and chooses to ignore the pointed look the other gives him in return. “don’t you have a class to teach?”

seungkwan huffs and uncrosses his arm to wave around vaguely. “you know we share the same studio, and you know i teach after their class. which is why it doesn’t make sense why you’re stalling—”

“i’m not stalling? there isn’t anything to even stall for—”

“oh, for crying out loud. maia even knows you like them, i honestly don’t understand what you’re doing this for.”

maia knew? maia knows? he’s thrust suddenly into odd situations that now suddenly make sense, from cheeky grins to swinging both your hands to telling him to wave goodbye everyday after class and god, the little smile on your lips each time you waved back—

“—llo? hello? oh my god, he’s doing it again. mingyu, have water on standby in case he passes out at the thought of a four bedroom house with a white picket fence and a toyota camry.”

he blinks back to the sound of politely contained laughter, looking behind him to see the barista behind the counter holding a glass of water sheepishly. exasperation quickly makes itself comfortable on his features, and he sighs before standing up to gather his things.

“thanks for the riveting enlightenment,” he deadpans, and to his dismay, seungkwan only smiles smugly in response. “i don’t have time for this. it’s almost time to pick maia up, anyway.”

“i’ll just say i told you so when you freeze again,” he shrugs, and laughs when he stalls to recollect himself for a moment. it’ll be fine. he’ll just say you look nice today, and that you always do.

and that your smile is possibly the prettiest once he’s ever seen, and that when you dance, all he can see is you. epitome of gracefulness, honestly, and your work with kids is just flawless, and your laugh is kind of cute and really endearing and—

he accidentally walks into a wall and bites down a curse. a burst of laughter erupts from behind him and it takes all his willpower not to throw up a pleasant middle finger back in the direction he came from.

pickup goes pleasantly, as always. maia barrels into his arms with the force of a mini bullet train as usual, and it knocks him back a few steps. her laughter is all the same, though, and it allows him to stave off the pang in his chest about her growing up so fast. she’s the only reminder of what used to be before that dreaded phone call, dulled to a distant ache.

she looks so much like her sometimes.

“how was class today, hm?” maia giggles when he squeezes her tight, little hands resting on his shoulders. “did you learn anything new?”

“mhm! yn says we have a new dance to learn for the winter show, so we’ve been practicing a lot—but i can’t show you! it’s a secret.”

maia mimes zipping her lips and shoving the key in her coat pocket, and grins when he frowns theatrically. “not even a little bit?” she shakes her head no, and he squints. “really? not even one spin?”

“not even one spin.” your voice pipes up from behind him, making him turning around and promptly forget every single word his ever learned.

you’re… gorgeous, even after hours of dance and probably more still after. dressed comfortably in sweats and a shirt, you smile when maia beckons you close and comply easily, your movements graceful even when just walking.

he hopes maia can’t hear how loud his heartbeat sounds.

“i heard a little dancer was about to reveal the secret we planned for the parents,” you tease, brows raising in disbelief, and maia is quick to reassure you that she definitely wasn’t.

“we pinky promised, remember? i don’t break pinky promises,” she huffs, and you laugh faintly before relenting. turning to him, maia adds, “can i get hot chocolate from the store?”

he buffers for a second when you turn to him and quickly nods, hastily fishing out a ten dollar bill before turning to you. “do you want anything? i don’t mind getting you anything—”

“oh—no, i’m okay. really. i’ve actually been meaning to talk to you.”

his heart drops. maia looks at the two of you incredulously before ultimately deciding getting hot chocolate was far more interesting than whatever was going on between you two, skipping off to join her friends already at the cafe.

“you wanted to talk—to me?” he cringes at the sound of his voice. get it together!

“i hope that’s alright,” you laugh nervously. “don’t get me wrong, maia is a wonderful student! this isn’t about her, it’s… more about you.”

oh god. okay. alright. okay. relax.

“i hope this isn’t too forward, but—”

“i’m not seeing anyone,” he blurts out, and then burns bright red out pure shock.

he did not just say that. he did not just say that. he did not—

frantic, he tries to backtrack, heart climbing into his throat as all alarm bells in his mind go off at once. maia was already doing so well here, and now he’ll have to relocate somewhere else out of embarrassment, and he’ll never be able to walk the entire block due to pure association with this astronomical fuck up, talk less of even being able to face you—

“ah… well, that’s good news, isn’t it?”

he doesn’t know how on earth that could mean good news, but you haven’t walked away just yet, so he’ll take it. his smile is a bit sheepish, murmuring an apology, and your smile softens at the words.

“i guess this means asking if you’re free anytime this week a bit easier.”

joshua physically has to stuff his hands in his pockets to refrain to cheering out loud like a teenager. you look nervous but determined, and he leans against the wall lest his legs actually give out from under him.

“sure—yeah, i’m free this weekend. maia has a sleepover planned, anyway, so… we could make plans for dinner?”

your smile is definitely ten times brighter than it was a few seconds ago, and he’s so gladly the damn wall is behind him for support. “dinner sounds great.”

“dad!”

you both jump at the sudden yell, heads turning to the direction it came from to find—

goddamnit.

both seungkwan and maia look equal parts smug, arms crossed over their chests in matching stances that practically ooze i told you so. you scoot closer to him in response, and maia’s eyes widen comically.

“are you dating?!”

the entire pickup section turns to you two with wide eyes, and you shrink against him even more. you’re about to open your mouth to comment when a loud whoop rings out from the crowd, someone pushing forward to jab their finger into another parent’s chest.

“that’s 50 fuckin’ bucks. i told you they were totally into each other!”

joshua closes his eyes and sighs. at least the dinner would be more private.

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tangledinink · 1 year

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Chapter Nine of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is up!!! With Donnie's help, Mikey makes some progress in his Hamato Ghost mission... read it on ao3 or below the cut!

[ prev ]

"Daddy! Daddy, look!"

Mikey was aware, dimly, that this was a memory. He could see that this excited child, racing to throw himself into his father's waiting arms, was just a younger version of himself. And though that was him, tiny and still new in the world, he watched the scene from above as a passive observer, floating above it all. For some reason, it didn't bother him. It didn't even seem strange.

"Watch! Watch what I learned how to do in class today!" His child self happily demanded, backing up out of his father's embrace, throwing his bag down and to the side. Once he was a suitable enough distance back, he wrinkled his nose with concentration as he moved into third position, the sides of his feet carefully pressed together and his arms held gently to the side. Mikey smiled a tiny bit from up above. How old had he been here? Maybe five?

After a moment of wavering, he moved, hopping across the floor in order to shift into a leap, his legs kicking out high, nearly parallel to each other, before gravity brought him back down and he landed neatly on the ground. And maybe this was kind of conceited, somehow, because he was watching himself, but even Mikey had been a little bit impressed. It wasn't polished by any means, but that was really good for a little kid. He had been told his whole life, ever since he started lessons, just how talented of a dancer he was. How wonderful he was at ballet, what a natural he was, blah blah blah. He was realizing now that hearing things like that was a very different experience than actually observing from an outside perspective.

He felt a dash of pride. But it was a shadow compared to his father. He could see from here that he was just beaming.

"Wow, Orange! Very impressive!" He praised, and the child practically squealed in response, grinning so wide that even Mikey’s cheeks hurt just from watching. Radiating sunshine. Warm.

"It's a Grand Jetty!" He announced proudly, and Mikey laughed. That was most certainly not the correct pronunciation. "It's just like the kicking we learned at the dojo, Daddy! Right!? That's why I'm so good at it," he declared, almost smugly, puffing out his chest a bit. "Because you taught me how to do it first!"

"Ah, yes," his father hummed, stroking his chin dramatically. "It must be my incredible teaching that makes you so talented! Yes, this makes perfect sense. I will accept full credit," he teased, and his son huffed loudly.

"Daddy! That's only part of why," he protested, grabbing onto his arms to kind of shake him a little, hanging onto his sleeve. His dad laughed.

"Okay, okay. I suppose I might be able to share credit. How about fifty-fifty?"

"Daddddddyyyy!"

"Sixty-forty?"

Mikey laughed. Both of them. Past and present; the memory and the dream. Because that's what this was, right? He wished he could get closer. He wished he could move and join them. He wanted to hang off of his dad's arm, too, to be close and laugh with him, instead of just watching from above. But he could never move.

He was only an observer. Because this was a dream. Wasn't it?

Mikey woke up.

He was starting to get used to the physically jarring re-entries into reality, as he could only assume that he had been floating up until a few moments ago... again. This had become a pattern now.

It had been eight days since they had last seen their father. But every night, he dreamt of him. At first, they were just dreams, just hodgepodge mixtures of memories and thoughts and feelings, all stitched together in an odd fragmented quilt, the way dreams usually were. The way his dreams always were. Strange and not meant to be navigated, just experienced. But the more time passed, and the harder they all pushed, clawing desperately and continually forward to try to find a way to reunite their family, the more the dreams shifted.

Every time now, they were memories. Flashes of his past-- some fuzzy and far off, echoing, but others in shocking clarity, so real and bright that he swore he was actually there. Most of these things he hadn't even thought about in years. He hadn't remembered showing his dad his Grand Jeté before now, the memory long buried and lost in his subconscious beneath mountains of time, like a crocus under snow. But he remembered it now. God, how many other things had he forgotten?

In every single dream, he was watching from up above, his father trapped down below him, reliving the past. He saw himself show off his ballet moves. He watched Dad refereeing their first ever ‘Lair Games.’ He recalled his father teaching him how to make rice. More than anything else, over and over and over again, he remembered Dad teaching them all martial arts, him and all three of his brothers together. And in every dream, Mikey always wanted to move closer, to reach out and grab him, but he never could. He could never get to him. So he always just watched, and he would see things that he had never noticed before. Now, he could see the way Dad's eyes glowed with pride whenever he complimented them, because he always meant it. He noticed how his brows always crinkled in the middle to form a crease whenever he was worried, the same way Raph's did. He saw how his body would dip with satisfied exhaustion in quiet moments.

Mikey laid silently in his bed, flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. The glow-in-the-dark star stickers he had put up there when he was four stared back at him. Or rather, that his father had put there on his behalf. His throat felt tight. He wondered when he was going to get used to waking up like this. He wondered if the grief was ever going to get easier. Because every night when he woke up it hit him like a goddamn train all over again.

He lingered for a minute or so, fighting off tears, and then laid there for a few more minutes, sobbing softly, his pillow shoved up against his face. And once he got through the worst of it, he rolled out of bed, dragging himself up to his feet and slowly plodding into the hall, wiping leftover tears from his face as he went.

This wasn't really a common occurrence, especially now that he was older, but in the event that he woke up in the middle of the night from a bad dream or a stomachache, he always took turns with which family member he would go find and climb into bed with. He could get something different from each of them. Dad would make him tea and lay with him until he fell asleep again. Leo would find some way to make him laugh and would play with the beads in his hair until he got drowsy. Donnie could always explain away anything that had scared him, always had tricks and solutions to offer. And from Raph, he could without fail find firm hugs and promises of protection that he knew he could count on.

He was heading in the direction of his oldest brother's room, his bare feet padding quietly against the hardwood, and was surprised to hear soft voices filtering from inside. He paused in his approach, leaning against the wall, focusing only on listening to the hushed conversation that just barely snuck through the cracked door.

"--trying." He only heard the tail end of whatever April was saying.

"I know they're tryin'. That's not the problem," Raph mumbled in reply, his voice sounding strained. "It's not like I blame them! I just. I just wish we had-- any kind of a lead. It feels like we're not gettin’ anywhere. All we're doing is finding more questions, and none of it’s helpin’ us find Dad! I mean, what am I supposed to do with this whole Hamato Destiny thing?"

"Hey, look. We'll figure it out, okay? It's not all up to you. Like, I know the whole... Hamato thing is, like... a lot, but... "

"It's not just that, April! I just. I don't know. I feel like it's… it’s dangerous. You heard some of the things that ghost guy was sayin'! I mean. Why else would Dad not tell us about any of it? It just... it just gives Raph a real bad feeling," Mikey could hear the hiss in his voice. He could almost see Raph's brow furrow into a crease. "I just. I dunno. I wish we never found the dumb thing," he laughed bitterly. "Isn't that crazy? I mean. Finding out you've got a magical destiny and powers or whatever the hell should be excitin', right? It should be cool."

"Maybe if you're in a book," April mumbled, and Mikey heard the bed creak, like her weight was shifting, like she was leaning into Raph, or wrapping her arms around him. "Look. Whatever happens, we're gonna figure it out, okay? But it's the middle of the night. You've gotta rest, dude! You're just as bad as Leo and Donnie. You guys have got to sleep."

"... I dunno..."

"We'll work on this more first thing tomorrow, okay? I'm sure we can figure something out. Right now, sleep. Big sister’s orders. Go the fuck to sleep."

There was more movement, more shifting, most likely April chasing Raph under the covers, but Mikey had kind of stopped listening. His chest felt kind of fluttery.

It probably wouldn't be very helpful if he walked in there now, huh? April was trying to get Raph to actually rest. He would just interrupt and worry Raph if he went barging in. And he was already, clearly, anxious enough on his own... And Leo and Donnie weren't sleeping very well either, were they? He already knew that. They all knew that. And they were all anxious.

So that probably wouldn't be a very good idea, either, would it? To go and wake them up and make them worry about him on top of everything else. To go and demand comfort from them when they probably needed it themselves.

And Dad wasn't home. So...

As quietly as he came, Mikey turned around, retreating back to his own room.

---

Leo used to be grateful every time he managed to fall asleep at night. But he was quickly becoming sick of it.

Move. Move. MOVE!--

And he must have, because he woke up with a start, his entire body jumping slightly. Same dream twice in a row? He wasn’t a huge fan, quite frankly, and he was really hoped this wasn’t the start of a pattern because it was pissing him the fuck off.

Leo groaned softly, his body feeling uncharacteristically sore as he rolled over onto his side. Please be in my own room. Please be in my own room. Please be in my own room--

“Leo?”

Nope.

Leo scrubbed at his face with his hands before slowly turning his head, glancing to the side. April and Raph were both staring at him as if he had just turned green. Leo thought quietly to himself that they could almost blend in with the eight-trillion stuffed animals Raph had piled up on his bed with how they were frozen, staring at him.

"Hey guys," he greeted as casually as possible, curling his lips back in a forced smile.

"Where the hell did you come from?!" Raph yelped, his eyes darting back and forth between his brother and the door, the door and his brother. "You just-- but we just-- I didn't see--"

"I don't know, okay!? I dunno!" Leo sighed loudly, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I was asleep about five seconds ago, I have no idea how I got here. I thought maybe I was sleepwalking."

"Sleep ninja-ing, more like!" Raph gawked. "How did you get in here without us seein’ or hearin’ you? I mean. I didn't-- I didn't even see the door open, you just--"

"Okay, uhm," April bit her lower lip, rolling to flop down on her stomach on Raph's bed, propped up on her elbow. "Look, you guys know I hate to be the one to suggest magic Hamato powers, buutttt..."

"I really don't wanna talk about it," Leo grumbled, slowly sitting up and rolling his shoulders.

"Ooh, wait!" April gasped. "This is totally how you ended up in Mikey's room last night, isn't it?!"

"Well--"

"Ooh, and then you got on his ass about floating? He is gonna be pissed--"

"Do not tell him!"

"You sure you're alright?" Raph questioned, and Leo could just hear the worry in his voice. Ugh, this was so not his goal, and so not what he needed right now...

"I'm fine," Leo insisted. "Seriously. It's not a big deal. I'm not hurt. I didn't even leave the house! Sooooo, sorry for barging in, my bad, now, uh, I'm just gonna..."

"Leo," April said, and Leo whined a bit, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling in quiet despair 'cause she was using her big-sister-voice. "Quit pretending like you're not just gonna end up sleeping here tonight and just c'mere already."

Ugh. Dammit. He didn't want to. I mean. He did. But also... He didn't... But...

"Fine," Leo grumbled, turning to slink over to Raph's bed, crawling in to join the other two. Luckily, Raph's bed was big enough that there was space for himself, his brother, his sister, all of Raph's Build-A-Bears, and then some. One of the perks of having a huge older brother, he supposed.

He hoped this wasn't gonna turn into a habit.

---

Trust was essential for any cohesive unit to work properly. Without trust, there would be no success, no forward momentum, no unit to begin with. Casey knew this perfectly well. She had known it for most of her life. And truly, she did trust her leaders. Over the many years, she had never once questioned their wisdom or the reasoning behind their decisions. She had always been happy to blindly follow, to obey, to leap at their command without thinking or seeing because they said to, and to trust that they would not send her anywhere without the wellbeing of the clan's future in mind. Even when they weren't thinking of hers.

But Baron Draxum? Casey did not trust Baron Draxum.

And she hated that she didn't! She wanted so desperately to have faith in the Foot Clan's glorious leaders and their newest plan to recover the Dark Armor. They had never led them wrong before, (mostly,) and she couldn't quite put her finger on it, but...

Something was off.

She couldn't quite pin this guy down. They brushed elbows rarely, and when they did, it wasn't as though she disliked him. She could appreciate a guy who knew what he wanted and pushed towards their goal without compromise, and she definitely found coffee runs to be much more enjoyable after he had tagged along that first time. Truly, she had been doing it all wrong. But there was just... something...

And she didn't know what. That was the worst part about it. It wasn't as simple as suspecting the newest recruit. She didn't feel, per se, that he would betray the Clan, or that he had ulterior motives, though she was sure that he did, but every time he was around, something in the back of her brain just twitched and wriggled, incessant and annoying and horridly persistent.

But she trusted her senseis. The plan, on paper, was quite good. Baron Draxum was a powerful criminal and wielder of devastating mystics. Each day they seemed to grow stronger. He had an enemy in the Hamato Clan, and of course, so did they. It made perfect sense that they would work together to gather the Dark Armor and bring the Foot Clan's Master back to power. He was an irreplaceable ally to the Foot and an essential part of their plan. He assisted in retrieving the scattered pieces of the armor. They assisted in providing lab equipment and spell components to restore his mystic powers. And they assisted each other in plotting the destruction of the Hamato bloodline, once and for all, and soon, they would strike.

So why did her gut twist like this when she was around him? She ground her teeth in frustration, squaring her shoulders and resisting the urge to glare at him from across their lair as he conversed with the clan's leaders. Was it jealousy? She had, admittedly, been training under the Foot Clan since she was ten, and there was a slight sting to watching him rapidly rise through the ranks above her, despite his short stint within their organization. But that wasn't it, either. Or at least, not all of it. Her eyes climbed upwards to the altar where the unfinished Dark Armor was displayed. Already, they were nearly halfway complete. Cassandra had never dreamed that they could make such rapid progress, but with Baron Draxum's aid, things were going, quite frankly, swimmingly.

She should be thrilled.

So what was it that they were missing?

---

He knew that he needed to get up.

He was fully aware. He was so deeply, desperately, nearly violently aware that he needed to get up. It was the morning. He had already been laying here for over an hour. His kids would be awake soon. They would be hungry. They would want food and attention. No, rather, need food and attention. He thought bleakly to himself that all they had were canned beans and jars of baby food right now, anyway. Lots and lots of canned beans and jarred baby food, at least, but not exactly the variety of nutrition a parent might hope for. He wondered if Raphael was old enough to work a can-opener. And then he thought to himself that Raphael was hardly even three, by his best calculations, so probably not.

You have to get up, he bade, scolding himself. You cannot keep laying here until they come to get you or cry. They are counting on you. Come on. Get up, you lazy, stupid rat! It is not even difficult. All you need to do is get out of bed. Remember when you used to wake up before the sun to go on runs? Remember when you used to begin training before the crack of dawn? What happened to that Yoshi?

God, he wished he knew. But that Yoshi wasn't here now. He grunted softly, turning just enough to bury his face in his pillow. He must have slept on and off for at least ten hours, but the exhaustion clung to his bones regardless. His stupid little rat bones. He wondered if that was ever going to go away. He wondered if this was a side-effect of the mutation, or if it was just a personal failing on his own part. Perhaps turning into a rat would shorten his lifespan. Perhaps, any day now, he would pass away from old age. He certainly felt old. The thought might have given him some comfort if it weren't for the four toddlers relying on him in their entirety for survival, sleeping soundly just across the room. If you could call the space they occupied 'rooms' at all.

The wails of a child, which he immediately pinned as Mikey, split the thick, musty silence of the sewers, and Yoshi grit his teeth with frustration. He continued to lay in bed for another full minute before he got up to go and fetch him, and he resented himself for each and every one of those sixty seconds. What kind of person listens to a hungry child cry like that?

"I'm here. I am here, Orange," he did his best to soothe as he shuffled his way around the corner, scooping the youngest from the cardboard box they slept in each night, filled with fluffy towels and shredded paper to make a ‘bed.’ Mikey still whined, but quieted a bit, clinging to his fur with chubby three-fingered hands, yanking himself up into his father’s arms.

Yoshi could admit that they were odd-looking children, with their scaled green skin and shelled backs, little claws tipping each finger. But it wasn't as if he didn't look quite odd as well. And though he had at first not been so sure about what exactly they were, or what to call them, as time had passed he had grown quite confident that they were, in fact, children, regardless of how they might look, or any turtleish qualities or habits they may have. Sometimes he even thought that they looked a bit like him, or perhaps acted a bit like him. But maybe that was just wishful thinking.

He had never imagined himself as a father before. Sure, there had been that one pregnancy scare with Crystal Yistal, but then it had just turned out to be a stomach bug and he had been more than happy to abandon any previous thoughts of raising a child.

He had definitely not imagined it like this.

With Mikey still on his hip, he got Purple and Blue up next, coaxing them out of their shared box, and then Red as well. He noted dimly that his biggest was rapidly outgrowing his current sleeping place, and he would have to get him something new soon. He kept meaning to find them something proper to sleep in besides literal boxes, but he had yet to manage to do so... Just another item on an endless list of to-do's that he never seemed to be able to get out from under. When they were still so tiny, small enough to fit in the palms of his hands, boxes had felt reasonable! But now that they were more akin to toddlers than turtles, it felt less appropriate.

They were children. Surely he could figure out something better than this… one of these days.

He slowly herded the group to the 'kitchen,' as he referred to it in his head, busying himself with preparing breakfast for the four. The area they occupied was not very big, only consisting of a few tunnels. There were more, sure, but Yoshi made it a point not to allow his children into any space that he wasn't confident was safe. He knew that they were too cramped, and it was not enough room for four growing children, and really, he was meaning to address it. He had every intention of taking the time to clear more space of any potential hazards so they could have a bit more room to run around, perhaps find some sort of proper furniture if he could, some more toys or decorations of some kind, he just...

Hadn't gotten to it yet.

Maybe the next time we go out to find more food, he thought wearily, doling out meals to his children who were old enough to eat on their own, and feeding those who weren't, balancing Mikey on his lap. He wasn't especially hungry if he was being honest, and skipping meals meant what food he could procure lasted longer, so he figured it was basically a win-win. He had gotten better and better at obtaining resources for them as the months had gone by, but it was still difficult on a bad day. Things would wax and wane now. There were times when he would suddenly feel as if his energy had returned, his motivation and drive renewed, and he would get as much done as he possibly could-- fixing things that needed to be fixed, finding supplies that he knew they needed, looking over anything of concern that needed to be addressed as quickly as he possibly could to take full advantage. But they never seemed to last as long as they needed to.

Most days were like this.

He was dimly aware of his children babbling things to him, occasionally making comments or asking questions to him, and he responded to them on autopilot. Yoshi still sometimes had a hard time understanding what Leo was saying. He would just nod along in these cases, and it usually worked well enough. Raph would translate if he wasn't getting it. He was only a bit better with his words, but he spoke much slower than Blue did.

“Daddy,”

“Yes, Blue.”

“Daddy!”

“I am listening.”

“... Purple?”

“Yes, Purple is here too. I see him. He’s sitting right next to you, see?”

Leo turned slightly to look at his brother, who was far more interested in breakfast than him, smiling contently and giving an enthusiastic nod now that he had re-confirmed his twin’s continued existence.

“Yeah!”

“Yes, and Red and Orange as well.”

“He little.”

“Yes, your brother is still very little, isn’t he?” He sighed.

“No,” Mikey mumbled. That was about the only word he knew so far besides “Dada,” but it was by far his favorite thing to say. Besides just screaming. Oh, Orange loved to hear himself. Yoshi was quite convinced that he often did it just for the joy of creating noise.

“Yeah! You are,” Leo insisted.

“No,” Mikey yelled this time, and Yoshi sighed.

“Ah, yes, but he will grow and get big, just like you and Purple and Red, won’t he?” He hummed. God, he knew they would. Hadn’t it just been yesterday that he could carry them all in one arm? They had been so tiny, and they had gotten big so fast. Especially Raph-- he was like a damn weed with how quickly he was shooting up. He almost wished they were still that small… It had certainly been much easier to keep track of them back then. It was a nightmare any time he had to venture out of the tunnels now, trying to keep four little turtle tots in tow and making sure no one went tottering off on their own or started touching things they weren’t meant to.

“I’m big,” Leo confirmed with a firm little nod, looking satisfied with this, turning his attention back to his breakfast. The rest of the meal was quieter, allowing Yoshi the time to focus on making sure everyone ate and got their fair share. Leo sometimes got distracted talking and didn’t eat, which he had to keep an eye on… But for at least a few blissful moments, things were calm and peaceful, with all his little boys gathered around him, munching on their breakfast. It wouldn’t last, however, naturally, and once Leo was done with his food, he quickly had a new focus.

"Daddy," Leo chirped excitedly, grabbing onto his dad's arm and shaking it. Breakfast was apparently over. "Play?!"

Oh god. His entire body ached with exhaustion at the simple thought.

"How about we watch a movie?" He said. Each time he suggested this alternative, his sons’ enthusiasm seemed to lessen, but they still agreed to it each time. Thank god. They didn't have a lot, (especially since their last 'home' was flooded out about five months back, at which time they had lost most of their possessions,) but the family had to their name a small, blocky television, a VHS tape player, and a dozen or so different titles to choose from. Splinter had figured out quite some time ago how to mess with the few breaker boxes down here until they could access electricity in a select few locations, but they still currently only had one single outlet that actually supplied any power. More often than not, this one functional plug powered their little television.

He selected a VHS at random to put on, settling down in the lawn chair they had in front of it, gathering all four of his children up in his lap. Oh lord, Raph was getting too big for this. Or he was getting too small. He had long suspected he was shrinking.

Admittedly, he knew that "The Mantis at Midnight" was not exactly age appropriate. But he didn't get to pick and choose which VHS tapes he could scrounge up, and he could only watch the one Scooby-Doo tape that they owned so many times. He recognized it as selfish on his part, but he was quite certain his brain would melt.

Next time, he told himself. Next time they ask to play, we will play. We will do something. I will not just put on another movie.

But even now, he didn't believe himself.

He was always doing that, wasn't he? Saying he would take care of things or change, and then never following through.

He had hoped that he would be able to find some alternative option, some way out of his deal before the deadline came. But of course, he hadn't. And now here he was.

The leg of his opponent passed no more than an inch before his eyes, Yoshi ducking down and out of the line of fire in just the nick of time. He grit his teeth, dancing quickly to the side and away from the next strike that he knew was coming, trying to allow himself the distance to anticipate the coming attacks and dodge those, too. For the second time in a rather short period of time, he wished desperately that he had not let his fitness routine fall to the wayside all these years. There were so many cramps. So, so many cramps.

He wasn't able to dodge the next blow, much to his frustration, only to block it, his own arm flying up to catch his opponent's foot and deflect. He took no real damage, but it still hurt. He was layered with so many bruises and bumps and scrapes from the past week that he was beginning to feel like an impasto painting, with nothing having the time to heal properly before new work was piled on top of it. He was sure Big Mama was thrilled with the reaction his debut had earned. The Nexus was packed each and every day. This demand, of course, meant that his performance schedule was quite full.

The spotted feline yokai flitting before him surged forward, leading with her chest as she sliced through his defenses and into the close-combat zone that she was best suited for, the best-suited position for her to finish things-- this would have been very bad news indeed if Yoshi had not already anticipated this. His knee thrust sharply upward to catch her jaw just as she moved in for the kill, a sharp crunch sounding between them, her head lurching back at an absolutely sickening angle. Yoshi inwardly winced. Not just because it hurt his knee, but because he knew that if it hurt his knee, it had to be much worse for her.

She crumpled to the ground. He quickly jumped backward, looking to put some distance between the two of them. It had been a solid blow, he knew, one that could and had ended many fights in the past, but he was not foolish enough to simply trust that she would go down and leave himself exposed. Not here. He knew much better than that.

There was a beat of silence. It hung heavy in the air for one, two, three seconds, with every single soul in the stadium waiting to see if she would get back up.

The referee above waved a red flag, and the entire Battle Nexus erupted into deafening cheers. Oh, thank god. He had been... a bit worried about this one.

He may be the undefeated champion, but he was not as young as he used to be. This challenger, in particular, had put up a wicked fight. He privately hoped that she would recover, but not well enough that he would have to face her again, and then felt awful for thinking such things. But if he were being perfectly honest with himself, he hadn't been so sure he would be able to win this fight.

His entire body wept in protest as he stood his ground, his shoulders squared and his back straight, trying to give an air of confidence. He resisted the urge to bend, to rest his hands on his knees and wince and inspect the damage before the next fight. He knew Big Mama didn't appreciate such behavior. Something about ratings and appearances.

And he didn’t like it. But if his sons' safety depended on his career as the reigning Battle Nexus champion, well, then...

He threw up his arms, and the crowd screamed in response, the roaring of cheers reaching a wild crescendo.

"Who's next?!"

---

"Look. I already said I don't wanna talk about the Hamato Destiny anymore," Mikey sighed deeply. "I already listened to you talk for, like... so long about this." Not that any of it made any real sense. What the heck was a Twilight Realm? Or a Kuroi Yōroi...? He really was trying to pay attention, but it was all just so... jumbled and weird and, uh. Honestly a lot. "I wanna talk about finding my Dad. That was the deal. I listen to you, and then you help me."

Ghost-Sensei, as they had taken to calling them, seemed a bit annoyed at being cut off, which only frustrated Mikey more.

"We have already explained that we are not aware of Hamato Yoshi's current location--"

"I know! I know that. You told us that. Many times," Mikey sighed, resisting the urge to snap. He usually had so much more patience than this, and he was trying really hard to get it together, this was just... really, really frustrating. And also the fifth time he had tried to talk to these guys. "And that's... fine. But. I mean. You guys have got to know something that can help us. Like... don't you know him? Is there anyone who would want to hurt him, or... do you know where they might take him? And can we use any of these... mystic power things to get in contact with him or something?"

Ghost shook their head. "The Hamato Clan has many enemies," they reported. "And many members of the Clan have been hunted over our history. But without proper training in the Hamato ways and the art of ninpo, you will not be able to contact him... especially given that his own training was never completed, and his ninpo remains locked. It would be incredibly difficult to accomplish. Assuming, of course, that he is still alive to begin with."

Mikey's head jerked slightly, his face flushing ruddy and dark.

"Don't say that!" He snapped. "Unless you know that he's dead and you know where we can find his body, then don't you dare say that!!! We're gonna find him!!! Whether or not you help!"

He grit his teeth, hunching his shoulders slightly.

"Why won't you help? If there's a way to mystically contact him, why won't you just teach me that?"

"This is a very advanced technique... That alone would take many months of training to learn, and to jump straight to such lessons while neglecting the basics that come before--"

"We can do the basics later! I promise we'll do the basics later! We don't have time right now!" Mikey pleaded. "I swear I can learn. Just teach me, and I'll figure it out! I know I'm not as smart as Leo or Donnie are, but you could teach them instead if you want! And then we'll learn whatever else you want, and do all the destiny stuff--"

"Michelangelo," the spirit leaned in closer. Mikey hated how empty their eyes always looked. "You have great potential. You have more connection to the mystic energies of the universe than any of your brothers do, and you have every opportunity to be a truly remarkable warrior indeed... but this does not change the reality of the situation. To be a Hamato is to sacrifice. And it is a terrible burden for us to bear," they sighed deeply. "But it is all a part of the great honor and destiny we share, which ties us all together. You are not like other people, Michaelangelo. You and your brothers were not put on this earth to live an easy life. None of us were. We do not exist for ourselves. We exist for the survival of the world."

Mikey felt like he was going to throw up. His body felt all shaky and numb, even though he was holding himself steady.

"I'm not asking for an easy life," he whispered. "I'm just asking for our Dad back. He's part of the world, too."

Ghost-Sensei pulled away, sighing deeply. "I know that this can be a difficult thing to accept," they said gently, in such a kind, soft tone that it made Mikey's chest twist with resentment. "Perhaps you need time to come to terms with this."

And just like that, Mikey was alone in the room.

The tears trickling down his freckled face became proper sobs soon enough, bending down to rest his head against his knees, his chest pressed across his thighs as he wept for a short while. He was getting pretty tired of crying about this, but it caught him by surprise every time. He was upset in a million different ways. He knew that these people knew more than they were letting on, he just knew it... and they wouldn't even let him try to learn these 'Hamato techniques.' Every time he talked to them, he just walked away with more questions than before, and with this trembling, hollow feeling occupying his skeleton.

Was this how Dad grew up? Taught that his life was something on loan to him-- not truly his, just something to trade away to a world that, seemingly, wasn't even aware of their sacrifice to begin with?

Because that sucked. Like... so much. And now they didn't even seem to care about him anymore.

I could learn, if you just gave me a chance, he thought bitterly. You said I have potential. But you won't even let me try...

He sighed deeply through his nose. Not only that... he had more connection to the 'mystic energies of the world' than the rest of his brothers. For some reason, this made Mikey frown. Once upon a time, if someone had told him something like this, he would have beamed, flipped his hair, and agreed that of course he did. His intuition was obviously off the charts, his creative finesse was something to be envied, and his therapist had been calling him an 'empath' since back before it was a cringe thing to say...

But now it just made his stomach flip-flop. He knew he wasn't the only one, but lately, he was questioning... everything. Every time they uncovered something new, it was like there was this little voice in his head that was wailing. It was, like... God. What else didn't he know? What else was he missing?

Frowning to himself, he quietly shut the chest again, shoving it back under their Dad's bed before getting to his feet and wandering out into the hall. He wasn't exactly sure where his feet were taking him at first, but he made his way up one flight of stairs, and then another, and eventually, he was knocking on Donnie's door, cautiously peeking his head inside.

When Donnie turned from his computer to face him, he seemed annoyed at first, but his expression softened quickly at the sight of his little brother.

"Hey Mikey," he hummed, kind of gesturing for him to come in, which he did. "Any luck with the ghosts?"

"Not really," Mikey admitted, frowning as he shut the door behind him, wrapping his arms around himself in a sad imitation of a hug as he trudged over to the other, plopping down on his bed to sit. "They don't want to tell me anything. They just wanna talk about old stories about evil creatures and the Twilight Zone and a bunch of other stuff I don't understand. But every time I try to talk to them about Dad, they shut me out."

Donnie sighed loudly, wrinkling his nose. "Yes. Well. I suppose we can't expect it to be easy..." they muttered. "Unfortunately, I'm not having the best luck myself. Everything I'm finding so far just seems... incomplete. Like I'm missing something, some sort of component..." He frowned, leaning over his desk, his cheek squished up against his palm. "I have all this data, but I have no idea how to make any of it work for us. I'm sure that there's some piece I'm missing that would make all this make sense, I just... I have no idea where it is. Or where to find it," he growled.

Mikey sighed a little, flopping down on his side, drawing his legs up to his chest. "Yeah," he muttered. "... I know that we have, like... mystic powers, or whatever. But I don't have any idea how any of it works, and Ghost-Sensei won't teach me. He keeps saying we have to learn 'the basics' first. But we don't have time for the basics," he whined softly. "If they gave me a chance, I know I could figure it out, I just..."

Donnie smiled a tiny bit, glancing over at the other. "You have always had an uncanny knack for those guessing games," he teased gently.

"I'm serious, Dee!" Mikey protested, bristling a bit. "I think I could. I mean. I know I could. I know that this kind of stuff isn't your thing, and I don't expect it to-- I mean--"

He paused, his sentence caught in his throat for just a moment before he turned suddenly to meet his brother’s eyes.

"Donnie, do you see colors?"

Donatello's brows pinched with confusion, his mouth wrinkling slightly. "Uh. Yeah. Of course I see colors. What does that have to do with anything?"

"No, not like that! I mean-- I mean, do you see colors on people? Like. Do you see people's colors? Like. What do you think my colors are?"

Donnie raised a suspicious brow, looking his brother up and down. "... Your colors? I mean... you have brown skin. And your hair is mostly black, except you bleached the tips... your shirt is black..."

"No," Mikey said sharply. "No, Dee, I'm orange."

"Well, I mean, yeah, your bandana is orange, and your pants are orange..."

"I'm not talking about clothes, Dee," Mikey insisted with a sigh. "I'm talking about me. About all of me. Like-- Like, I'm orange. And you're purple. Even if you weren't wearing any purple at all, you'd still be purple. Every time I look at you, I see that you're purple," he pressed. "The same way Dad is white, and April is green, and Carol is yellow. Everyone is totally different! Like-- like your purple and Mrs. Evanway’s purples are different, it’s all totally unique and, and--"

Mikey could feel Donnie's eyes boring into him. He frowned, curling up a bit tighter.

"Look, I know I always talk about, like, our life colors and stuff. And when I was little, I always just thought that that was just something that everyone saw! Especially 'cause Dad has the nicknames, so I just thought... And then eventually I realized that maybe it wasn't, and it might just be me. But any time I ever mentioned it people would act like I was joking or just ‘being Mikey’ or whatever, so I never really... pushed it. I just thought it was this weird thing I did and it didn't mean anything, so I never really talked about it that much, but now I, I dunno, with all this crazy mystic stuff and energies and all that these ghosts are talking about, it feels like, like maybe it might be real? Like, actually for-real real, and I know it sounds weird, and I know it's not your thing, and I know it's not gonna help us, but--"

He finally dared to look back up at his brother, only to be surprised to find Donnie busying himself with opening up a spreadsheet on one of his many computer monitors, hunching over their keyboard to type furiously for a moment.

"Uh... Donnie?"

"Okay," Donnie said, whipping back around to face him, his glasses nearly falling off his nose. "What color was the guy who took Dad?"

[ next ]

#sorrywhatnowau #sorrywhatnow fic #tmnt #tmnt human au #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt fic #fanfic #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt human au

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nuwuna · 1 year

Text

Dance HCs for the Redacted bois :)

David: Ballet

My man likes rules and ballet has those rules. He was the best at partner work and lifted those girlies into the air with no problem. The pack teases him abt it sometimes but angel loves it. They constantly ask him to teach them variations.

Asher: Classic Jazz/Hip-hop

I think he was enrolled in jazz classes as a kid and really enjoyed it. Later on, he thought hip-hop was really cool so he watched a bunch of videos on it. yes, self-taught hip-hopper ash. he's an absolute beast at clubs and definitely dances to the songs playing at grocery stores.

Milo: BALLROOM PLEASE HE'S LITERALLY PERFECT FOR THIS ARE YOU KIDDING? He loved every aspect of it: the style, the costumes, the competition, EVERYTHING. He was really good at it too, he won like 90% of the competitions we was in. He definitely had a massive rivalry with another person and was petty abt it.

Vincent: Contemporary Ballet

not necessarily ballet but it has a certain artistic element that he enjoys. He took a few classes as a kid and then enrolled in some classes at his college. I just think that he would be really good at it and it's not super traditional.

Sam: Country Western

my guy is from the south what did you expect? anyways he went to a lot of shindigs as a kid and then went to country clubs in college. He's goated at partnering too. he spins his partners around and lifts them into the air with ease. Even tho darlin is made of steel he can still pull crazy stunts.

William: Ballet

He's literally from France and was the reason why Tchaikovsky wrote the Nutcracker. He KNOWS his stuff.

Gavin: Jazz

Okay a bit different, but I think that he enjoys the more mature jazz/theatre. Like cabaret, chicago, and moulin rouge. he LIVES for that shit. fosse is his idol bro. he occasionally surprises freelancer with a little number lol

Damien: Ballet

my man went far with this like he was GOOD. He was definitely enrolled in a professional company before he went to damn. He was super particular about every move and argued with people during variations. He even got annoyed at the girls he was paired with because they weren't certain moves correctly. The other dancers didn't like him very much, but those russian ballet teachers did, and that's why he got so many good roles in the shows he was in.

Lasko: Musical theatre

okay, hear me out here. he's a show tunes guy. he loves newsies, grease, and hamilton and was for sure a theatre kid before his powers manifested. Like can you imagine how cute that is? he's a little bit embarrassed about it but when freelancer asks him about it he pulls out the old CDs. pls so cute

Huxley: Rhythmic tap

no not theatre tap like he goes hard with the rhythms. you really wouldn't expect it but you can sometimes catch him tapping when he's sitting or waiting in line. he's an absolute beast at it.

Caelum: Lyrical

he loves all of Maddie Ziegler's solos. the likes how much emotion is put into every move and gets very invested in the stories he tells through the movement. he also really likes all the pretty costumes.

anyways this is all just my opinion and I miss dancing a little bit. :P

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lacyscabinet · 7 months

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nat with a reader who does dance! whether its hip hop or contemporary it doesnt matter because nat will be first row at every one of ur shows!:)

A/N: OMG this is so cute (this is also gonna heal my inner child because my mom never watched one of my shows) trauma dumping aside, hope u enjoy<3 (also, third content I post tonight, guess you could say I decided to feed my kids)

Not proofreaddddd

MASTERLIST

Natalie with dancer reader

Natalie wasn't one for dancing

But you were

And she was all here for that

Not only would she be front row at ALL your shows she would also be there at all your practices

Bringing you little snacks and water to keep you fed and hydrated

HONESTLY I LOVE THE IDEA OF NATALIE WITH A BALLET DANCER GF

I mean

The stoner and the ballerina :')

I can't help but think about her helping you tend your bruises caused by the pointed shoes

Maybe she would even try and learn some moves with you

And then she would probably expect you to return the favor by learning a bit of soccer

"y/n don't point your toes this this is not the nutcracker"

*said Natalie while she was teaching you how to score in the net*

I'm convinced that if you ever got an important part such as Clara in the nutcracker she would cry in pride

She's your biggest supporter tbh

Kinda like that one scene in mean girls when Regina's mom records her daughter and dances along (hope you understood which scene I'm talking about 😭)

CUTIE PATOTIE

#natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets #nat scatorccio #nat scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio x #natalie scatorccio x y/n #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #writers on tumblr

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gabessquishytum · 7 months

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New Ballet AU prompt - Single Parent Hob's son Robin has been taking dance classes for a few months, the other Dance Moms handle car pool after school, so Hob hasn't been back to Storyteller Studios, since he signed Robin up with that nice Morana in the front office.

In any event, Robin is supposedly very good in the classes he's taking, and has been offered a place in a more advanced class, taught by the studio's founder. Hob is offered an opportunity to talk the teacher if he wants to after Robin next class -- Robin loves talking about how cool "Mr. M" is, but of course He's running late this afternoon, only a few minutes (hopefully the classes are running over, they do sometimes).

While Hob is rushing in, his head is turned by this gorgeous man, getting out of this cute sports car, so badly that Hob almost smacks face first into the glass entrance doors. Argh, Hob hopes hot guy didn't see that. . . Hot guy totally saw the cute guy who seemingly tried to open the doors with his face.

Hob is only a little blushy and stammer-y when he formally meets hot guy/Mr. M.

Ahh, just imagine how absolutely sexy “Mr. M” is. He’s got the ballet physique, tall and sleek with the most incredible musculature Hob has ever seen. These days he runs the ballet studio and nurtures young students, but he used to be very famous, and he’s still very talented.

And there’s Hob. A single dad who teaches primary school kids, who takes very good care of Robin but not such good care of himself (he hasn’t been to the gym in about a decade and he’s lucky if he gets to eat something that isn’t chicken nuggets or fish fingers). And he rounds it all off by walking into a glass door. So although he blushes and bites his lip, he doesn’t even entertain the fact that he’d have a chance with this beautiful specimen of a man.

Little does he know that Mr. M (who prefers Dream, when he’s not teaching) has been gazing at him with soft eyes ever since he saw the cute, frazzled, homely looking man almost walk into a door. He can hardly keep on topic and talk about Robin’s potential progress in the advanced classes. Hob listens very intensively and he just looks incredibly sexy when he tucks his dark hair behind his ear and nods seriously.

The good news for both of them is that the advanced class is on Saturday mornings, so Hob will be dropping Robin off and picking him up. And maybe just staying for the duration of the class to watch. To watch Robin, obviously. He totally wouldn’t be checking out Dream’s incredible quads as he demonstrates the exercises. He’s just crossing his fingers tightly that Robin doesn’t lose interest in ballet any time soon.

When the summer holiday comes around, Robin signs up for a week long ballet camp kind of thing with fun classes each day. It’s the middle of a heat wave and Hob shows up to drop Robin off for the day, dressed in a white tank top and a pair of frankly criminal denim shorts. He bends over to readjust his shoe and Dream, who was also just arriving… turns his head, stares and walks into the glass door.

For the first time in about 10 years, Hob feels a surge of confidence. He’s 90% sure that his hot crush is blushing and stumbling over him. He can hardly believe it, but maybe its time to finally make a move…

#the sandman #dreamling

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harrysmmm · 10 months

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

Fanfiction:The Relics of Hogwarts (CLICK THE LINK BEFORE READING THIS)

Draco malfoy x Y/N Riddle (f!reader)

A/N: I wrote this in a day, who would've told me?? I'm so into this fic I can't stop writing it, it's crazy. Anyways, I wanted to thank you for the reception of Chapter 1, you guys overwhelmed me :). Hope you like this part, again, don't hesitate to ask me to put you on the taglist, I'll gladly do it. Love u all <3

W/C: 3.6K

Taglist: @jay-isgay

masterlist here

The ravishing thunderstorms had turned into ballets of autumn leaves dancing around the dorms’ windows. Y/N was laying down in her bed; six forty-four on the clock even though her alarm had to go off at seven. It was not the first night she had woken up before time, her worries creeping in like a plague of lice. She had become fearful of the night because she knew she couldn’t avoid the pressure. Her entire life she had spent it looking for a big breakthrough that would quiet down her thoughts of not feeling enough; enough because she didn’t get to go to school like the other kids; enough because none of her parents stayed; enough because she couldn’t name a single person that had taught her love. Now, having a purpose to fulfill, an opportunity to be part of somewhere she belonged, she wished things were different for her.

“Already awake?” She heard the voice of Pansy.

Pansy Parkinson was one of the girls she shared a dorm with. She was someone she could talk to from time to time, although the conversation would not get deeper than academic and roommate matters. She met her through Draco, who she’d mostly spend time with during breaks.

“Yeah, the wind woke me up. Pretty harsh out there.”

“Yeah…” Pansy headed towards the bathroom with her uniform in hand.

“You showering this early?” Y/N inquired. The others were still sleeping.

“I wanna try this new spell on my hair. I feel like straight hair doesn’t do me good,”

“Aight.”

Y/N also got up from bed, checking her schedule and noticing that she had Potions the first hour.

Potions was a tough course. Y/N had found herself studying the textbook in the afternoons, trying to be lectures ahead to get better in the potion-making. But it seemed like every student in class was doomed, including Hermione Granger, a Gryffindor student that Y/N came to realize from the first week that she was a brilliant witch. Surprisingly enough, the student that always passed with flying colors was none other than Harry Potter - surprisingly enough because he didn’t exceed in any other course. Professor Slughorn was a very enthusiastic man that supported everyone that wanted to take his class – although not everyone would get the same treatment, the man being quite elitist and prone to favoritism. Harry was, without the slightest doubt, his dearest pet.

“I was beginning to worry Miss. Diggory. Got lost in the scrambled eggs?” Professor Slughorn asked, turning round towards her.

She spent a little too much time reading about the potion they had to brew that day that she lost track of time. She knew she wasn’t a favored student in Slughorn’s eyes to get away with the delay.

“Sorry,” she whispered, heading towards Draco, Pansy and other friends of Draco.

“As I was saying, The Draught of the Living Death is a dangerous potion that must be executed with maximum caution. We don’t want to end up like Sleeping Beauty, do we?”

Hermione and Harry giggled. The others didn’t understand the reference.

“Muggle-tale, very silly of me…” the Professor laughed at his own gaffe. “Well, because this potion is quite complex to execute you will partner up with someone.”

Y/N instantly looked at Draco who was also looking at her.

“Harry… well dear Harry, I don’t think you’d need a partner to brew this but for academic purposes you will do it with... Miss. Diggory.” He glanced over at her. “He might also teach you punctuality Miss. Diggory.”

Y/N couldn’t resist raising her eyebrows and sighing. Harry swiftly glanced at her.

“You got the stinkiest of all” Draco whispered to her. He was leaning over the wall – a mischievous look on his face.

“At least he’s good,” she replied. She had shared some laughs about Potter with Draco and his friends, but she never really initiated them herself.

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes at her comment.

“Do you think the wall is going to miss you if you stop leaning over it, Mr. Malfoy?” Slughorn snapped. Draco heavily breathed and fixed his posture, waving his arms in a way of showing the professor that he was not dragging his back all over the wall anymore, “Good. You’ll go with Miss. Granger.”

“For fuck’ sake,” he whispered.

Y/N gave him a sympathetic smile and headed towards Harry who had already chosen a brewing table.

“Everyone, turn to page forty-seven of your textbook and start brewing. Off you go!”

Y/N flipped the pages to the one of the mentioned potion. She started reading.

Instructions:

Cut up one Sopophorus bean.

Pour in 250 fl.oz. of water and add…

She noticed that Harry was already grabbing some of the beans.

“You want to start cutting them while I pour the water?” she asked him.

“Sure.”

She grabbed the cauldron and headed to the sink of the classroom. A line of people was starting to form, Draco being before her.

“They also sent you off?” Draco asked her, having been kicked out by Hermione.

“I volunteered.”

“Right.” It was his turn to fill up the cauldron with water. She looked at him while he did it.

“Try not to start fighting dementors after spending time with Potter,” he playfully said while passing next to her after he’d completed the task.

“Shut up, Malfoy.”

He grinned at her.

She returned to her seat and placed the cauldron at the center of the table. She noticed that Harry was crushing the beans with the blade instead of cutting them.

“Doesn’t it say you have to cut them?”

“Yeah, mine says you should crush them,” he replied, not really looking at her.

“How so?”

“I don’t know.”

She kept on reading the instructions.

“You almost took my eye out, Granger!”

“I’m sorry, the beans are really slippery!”

Y/N looked over at Draco’ and Hermione’s table and left out a chuckle.

Harry grinned at her, also observing the scene.

“They would be better off if they had your textbook.”

“Yeah,” he replied, this time looking at her.

“Should we add the Infusion of Wormwood or does your textbook differ on that too?” she playfully asked him.

“No, go ahead,” he replied, more relaxed than at the beginning.

She added the ingredient and the potion started boiling, turning purple – which was exactly what it had to do according to the book.

“What now?” she asked.

“We have to stir seven times anti-clockwise, although we have to add a clockwise stir after every seven anti-clockwise – at least that’s what my book says.”

“You lost me at clockwise.”

Harry left out a loud laugh that didn’t go unnoticed among students.

“Harry, how do you do it?” Hermione asked him, stirring the potion while her hair was all tousled.

“I follow the book, that’s all.”

“Lend us your book,” said Draco.

Harry ignored him.

“I’m with Draco on this one,” added Hermione.

Harry kept ignoring them. Y/N did the same.

“Everyone seems jealous of you, where did you get that book?”

“The cupboard,” Harry replied while adding Powder Root of Asphodel to the mix.

“You think it belonged to a former student?”

Harry didn’t react at first, as if he was mentally debating to say something. He ended up saying it.

“It belonged to the Half-Blood Prince,” he replied, showing her the signature of the owner of the book written on the first page.

“Who is he?” she asked.

Harry shook his head showing her that he didn’t know.

They then proceeded to add the Sloth Brain, the potion looking accurate.

“You’re a relative of Cedric?” he asked.

Y/N was surprised he wanted to know something about her.

“He was my first cousin.”

Harry looked at her with a serious face. “Right.”

“You were friends with him?”

“Yeah, not the closest, but yeah,” he replied. Y/N could sense it was a sensitive topic.

Harry stirred two times clockwise and dropped the mixer.

“That’s about it,” he said, imploring of having finished the potion.

She raised her hand to call Professor Slughorn who was fairly surprised the two of them had already managed to finish brewing the potion.

“Well, well, well, let’s see what we’ve got here,” Professor Slughorn said, approaching the cauldron. Everyone was expectant of the result. He dropped a red leaf into it, and it immediately dissolved into the liquid. “Merlin’s beard, it’s perfect!”

Harry and Y/N smiled at each other.

“So perfect I dare say one drop would kill us all!”

Y/N looked at Draco and raised her eyebrows. The boy was standing up with his arms crossed - his platinum hair uncombed. He shook his head at her.

“Ten points to Gryffindor and ten points to Slytherin. Although I don’t know if Miss. Diggory was much of a help…”

“She was, Professor,” interrupted Harry.

“Well in that case, I’m eager to see your improvements, Miss. Diggory.”

Y/N softly smiled, giving a look to Harry who was also looking at her.

ྀ࿔

“She was, Professor,” Draco blurted out, mocking Harry’s words a few days later.

“For Merlin’ sake Draco, drop it,” Y/N snapped.

Blaise, Pansy, Draco and Y/N were headed to the Quidditch pitch. It was the first match of the season and students were eager to see the new signings play. It was also a very awaited match for the entire school because the rivals Gryffindor and Slytherin were playing.

The four of them were rooting for the green house.

“I’m just saying, it almost looked as if you two were actually having fun,” Draco continued.

“Whatever Draco, whatever,” she replied, tired of the blonde’s insinuations.

They arrived at the pitch and got front line seats - Draco nudging students to get ahead. In a matter of minutes, the two teams flew to the center of the pitch, the commentator introducing each of the players.

“The Slytherin team also recruited a new seeker – goodbye Malfoy, hello Harper!” Everyone started cheering the new signing.

Y/N looked over at Draco who seemed bothered by the comment. He had been the seeker for Slytherin since second year, but he had to quit the team due to the Dark Lord’s commended mission – although, he had told the other players it was due to an injury.

The game started. Gryffindor held the quaffle first, passing it among chasers – a Slytherin chaser checked one of the passes and got the ball. A Hawckshead attacking formation was created by some Gryffindors to intercept a green chaser from getting near the hooped goal posts. The latter still threw the ball towards the right post and, to everyone’s surprise, Ron Weasley, new keeper of the Gryffindor team, stopped it from scoring. The spectators vigorously clapped.

“Very good that Weasley guy, innit?” a Hufflepuff girl said out loud.

“I guess, yeah…”

The girl started yelling. “Woo-hoo! Slytherin! Slytherin! Come on, guys!”

“I thought you were rooting for Gryffindor,” Y/N asked her.

The quaffle was in Gryffindor’s possession now - Ginny Weasley achieving to do the Chelmondiston Charge and scoring in the middle goalpost.

“Oh, bloody hell!” the girl lamented. “I’ve always rooted for Slytherin before Gryffindor, I know some Slytherin people that I get on with – Gryffindors can be a pain in the ass when it comes to bragging about their team.”

The girl turned her head to Y/N’s direction. She was a little shorter, golden straight hair framing her face. Her hazelnut eyes were bigger than usual, giving her an innocent outlook.

“Is it true that you’re related to Cedric?” she asked.

“Yeah, we were cousins,” Y/N replied.

“He was friends with my sister – a truly nice guy,” she added.

Y/N gave her half a smile and focused on the game.

Both Harry and Harper, the seekers of the game, were unaware of the whereabouts of the golden snitch. Gryffindor was beating Slytherin by thirty points – that meant if Harper found the snitch they would end in a tie.

“You’re a six year, aren’t you?” The Hufflepuff girl asked Y/N.

“Yeah, you too?”

“No, I’m in year five.”

“What’s your name?”

“Mary. Mary Rookwood,” she replied. “Although I have nothing to do with Augustus Rookwood, just to be clear.”

“Who’s that?”

“A death-eater of You Know Who. He recently escaped Azkaban, you didn’t hear the news?”

“I must’ve heard it somewhere,” she replied. It felt strange to hear someone name her father outside of his own circle.

It seemed that Harry and Harper had already located the golden snitch. The both of them threw themselves to it, the green one occasionally cobbing Harry to slow him down.

The crowd kept chanting “Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!”. Apparently, the red-haired boy was killing the game, intercepting every attempt of scoring.

A few seconds later, the match ended, Harry having caught the snitch.

“And Gryffindor gains the victory!” the commentator exclaimed, being followed by loud cheers.

“How pathetic, Harper,” Draco snapped.

“I bet we would’ve won if you were still the Slytherin keeper, Draco,” Pansy said.

“You bet on that,” he added.

“You’re the only one that can face Potter in the pitch,” Mary commented, entering the conversation.

Draco stared at her skeptical but replied: “Not only in the pitch.”

Everyone started to stand up from their seats and headed towards the exit stairs – most of them disappointed with the results, looking forward to commenting on the match during supper.

ྀ࿔

Students ought to be in their common rooms at that time of night. Pansy, Blaise, Draco and Y/N were sitting on the couches of the Slytherin common room, talking out of their asses.

“You guys, I’m calling this a night,” Pansy said, standing up from the couch.

“Same here, I’ve got DADA tomorrow at nine,” Blaise added, joining Pansy.

“Y/N, you staying?” Pansy asked.

“Yeah, I’m not that tired just yet.”

“Aight, see ya.”

Both students went upstairs.

Draco waited until everyone got into their dorms and glanced at Y/N.

“You wanna do something fun?” he asked.

“I’m not playing Wizard’s chess if that’s what you’re implying,” replied Y/N.

“How about we sneak out?” The boy seemed more excited than usual.

Y/N sighed. “Draco, no.”

“Why not? Besides, I was a prefect – I’m sure they will let us go if they see us,”

“Where do you wanna go anyway?”

“There’s somewhere I wanna show you.”

Y/N kept staring at him, debating the pros and cons of the blonde’s idea. She knew that if she said no, they’d probably go to sleep – something she was not eager to do, fully aware that her anxiety would creep in again.

“Okay,” she ended up saying.

“Let’s go then.”

They both stood up and exited the common room. The school hallways were only lit by the full moon’s glare and the Lumos charm of Draco’s wand.

“Thank God, Lupin is not teaching here anymore. It would’ve been an interesting night,” Draco whispered.

“Why?” she asked.

“He was our DADA professor in third year – he was also a werewolf,” he added.

“Good Lord, they let him teach regardless?”

“Yeah, he was Dumbledore’s little servant. Also really close with Potter. He got away with everything until parents started to complain - my father started the fuel.”

“How rare coming from your father,” she snickered.

He giggled. Some footsteps went noticed from one of the hallways.

“Come on, over here.” Draco dragged Y/N to the boy’s bathroom that was a few steps away from them. They got in one of the cubicles and locked the door.

“You said it was okay if they caught us,” whispered Y/N, her face almost touching Draco’s due to the lack of room.

“I lied – we’re totally facing detention if they do,” Draco replied.

“For Merlin’ sa-” Draco placed his finger on her mouth to tell her to shut it.

“Who’s there?” Argus Filch, caretaker of the school, got in the bathroom. “I heard you whisper, come out now!”

No sound or move was made. Draco was biting his lips.

“Aigh fair enough, Mrs. Norris, go take a look,” Filch said.

Draco mouthed without speaking: “We’re totally screwed”. The cat started meowing in front of their cubicle, sensing both students.

“Good job, Mrs. Norris.” Filch caressed the cat. “Get outta there, you nasty little rats! I know you’re hiding in there!”

Y/N had an idea.

“Aguamenti,” she whispered. Water started flooding from the toilet and got to Mrs. Norris legs, who started vividly meowing at the contact. She flew away from the scene.

“Mrs. Norris, dear cat, wait!” Filch ran after her, leaving the bathroom unguarded.

“Come on.” Y/N opened the door and both students ran away.

“That was brilliant, Riddle!” Draco snapped.

“Don’t call me that, people could hear.”

“Yeah sorry, ‘m just used to it.”

“We should go back to our dorms before he’s back,” she pointed.

“Now? When we’ve already arrived at the place? Hell, no,” he replied.

She sighed but followed him upstairs.

The room was at the top of a tower. Students would study the stars and planets through their telescopes in Astronomy lessons – the starry view could enchant anyone standing there.

“Good golly,” said Y/N, clearly taken by the view. “This is where you’ve been spending time during your absences at dinner?”

“Mostly, yeah,” replied Draco, sitting down on a step, “I mostly think things through, you know, about everything that is going on.”

Y/N knew exactly what he was talking about. She sat down next to him.

“I barely get any sleep,” he added. “My mind constantly thinking tactics of how to… you know… kill him.”

“Yeah… that is a heavy weight I don’t think you should have to bear so young.”

“There’s no difference between teenagers and adults in our world, Y/N. You go from being a total useless kid to a highly competent murderer – that’s how it works.”

“I know how it works Draco, you’re not the only one that has their life at stake,” she replied, starting to feel the anxiety in her voice.

“Have you started looking for them? The relics, I mean.”

“I’ve been spending time at the library, but no luck so far. I’ve been thinking of switching to groundwork, and ask students first-hand,” she said.

“You should be careful with that, people-”

“I know Draco, no one will suspect,” she interrupted him.

“Fair enough,” he replied, stargazing. “I’ve come up with an idea as well.” He pulled out a folded paper from his pocket. He unfolded it. “I bumped into this spell when I was doing some research. It’s a spell that can bewitch an object and kill the person that touches it in a matter of minutes. I thought of putting the spell on a necklace and manage to give it to someone that would hand it to Dumbledore.”

“It makes sense. Just be careful the person-”

“The person doesn’t touch it themselves? Yeah, already though about that – you just give it to them in a secluded box.”

“Sounds twisted, but that’s what you’re striving for,” she concluded.

He nodded. They both kept gazing at the sky.

“Do you remember when we used to do this at home?” he asked her.

“Yeah, always begging Druella to stay the night at the Manor,” she added.

Both their minds drifted away to seven years ago.

“I found these in my parents’ bedroom.” The ten-year-old boy pulled out two rings from his pocket. “I think there is a spell put on them or something.”

The two rings had a snake engraved in them that would tangle with one another when the rings were touching each other.

“Which one do you prefer?” the boy asked.

“Mmm… this one.” She took the one on the right.

“Here you go.” He gave it to her. “I will take the other one then.”

Both of them put on the rings.

“I will wear it next year at Hogwarts, so everyone will ask me about it, and I’ll could talk about you,” he said.

“I wish I could go to Hogwarts with you, Druella says I wouldn’t be welcomed there,” she adds, with a pouting face.

“That is bullshit, they wouldn’t even know who you are,” he snapped.

“You will write me, won’t you?”

“Of course I will, every week!”

“Good because I want to know everything!”

“Also, my father told me that Harry Potter is coming to Hogwarts too.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I will give him the Malfoy handshake, we will be best buddies,” he said really excited.

“But we are best buddies,” she replied.

“But you are a girl, it’s different.”

“True.”

“Y/N, get inside, we’re leaving!” A voice interrupted the kids’ moment. Druella was calling Y/N to go home.

“You talk to your mother, I try to convince Druella to stay?” she asked.

“You got it,” he replied.

Both of them headed indoors, without realizing that two snakes were tangling with one another.

Seven years later, Draco and Y/N were stargazing in the Astronomy Tower, not really caring that once again, both snakes were tangling with one another in a beautiful, compassed dance.

ྀ࿔

She opened her eyes and realized she was standing in the living room of the Malfoy Manor. She noticed that red drops were clashing against the marbled floor coming from her arms. Engraved in blood it was written: “Find them or perish, only the heir knows where”. She heard her father talk to her while the room was flooding in her arm’s blood. He constantly repeated the words “Slughorn knows well, Slughorn knows well”. She was drowning in her own blood…

She woke up exalted, understanding that everything had been a dream. And although she knew better than that, understanding that her father had been communicating with her to tell her to do something, she left the interpretation for the next day, drifting once again to sleep.

part three

#draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x y/n riddle #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hogwarts imagine #hogwarts fanfic #hogwarts au #slytherin

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