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ghouljams · 8 months

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Ok but how could u just mention ballet au konig wants to rip her tights. Like I wanna see this. I LOVE THEIR RELATIONSHIP SO MUCH

Genuinely I had to go back and read my own tags how did you find that I hid it so well.

Ballet!König is my favorite creature man, I think of him often and keep forgetting to write for him. Here's some good old fashioned tights ripping for you :)

König's fingers tug at your tights, his teeth biting the sheer material to make a hole before he rips the seam open with a truly satisfying 'rrrrrip'. He stares at the pink leotard under it, his thumbs holding the seam open as he breathes heavily. His eyes dart to yours and he swallows thickly, you blink at him. The embarrassment of having him physically rip your clothes is almost more than you can handle. He presses his face against your mound, breathes you in with a satisfied groan, and licks a stripe up your slit through your dance clothes.

"König, wai-" There's another ripping sound, his fingers curling and pulling against your thigh, putting another hole in your tights. You don't know why it makes you arch, your hands flying to his hair to hold him close as he continues wetting your leotard with his tongue. He moves his hand under your thigh, coaxes you to hitch it over his shoulder only to rip yet another hole in the back of your tights. He's teasing you, letting you feel the slick pressure of his mouth, the heat of his breath, letting you hear his desperation, without actually touching you.

You look to the side, watching yourself in the floor to ceiling mirrors of the practice room. The way your chest rises and falls, the way König hunches over you, the way your skin presses against the ribbons of nylon still hanging on to you, you can even see König's cock straining against his sweats. After hours in the company studio, you'd thought he'd want to practice your pas de duex, not- You whine as he pulls your leotard between his fingers and his teeth and rips.

"Naughty, naughty, Schatz," He tuts, stroking his fingers along your dripping cunt "you really should wear underwear to work." You both know you're not the only ballerina in company to leave the house with one less layer, but that doesn't stop the heat that ripples over your skin at his chastising. His tongue flicks against your clit without the fabric barrier and you moan, feeling the heat of it clench deep in your stomach.

He presses a finger into you as he sucks on your clit, big and thick and reaching further than yours ever could. You buck your hips into his gentle thrusts, desperate, whining. He reaches around your leg to rest his arm against your stomach, holding you down. You're not a weak person by any measure, but neither is he, and the strength he exerts to keep you in place as he licks you is disastrous for your ability to think. The same hands that lift you so carefully, so effortlessly, keeping you still while he pulls back and eases a second finger into your slick cunt.

You whine and whimper for him. Tight heat steadily builds in your stomach as he scissors and thrusts his fingers in tandem with the roll of his tongue. The all too pleasant ache of being stretched is starting to make you sweat, still in all your clothes built for warmth. You can feel your hair starting to come out of its bun from all your wiggling on the floor. "König please," You beg, even knowing your pleas are going to fall on deaf ears.

"One more, don't want to hurt you," König mumbles, taking a moment to bite the untorn tights on your other leg and rip. You can feel your wetness on his lips, on his tongue when he licks your freshly exposed skin. Despite the promise of another finger, he curls the two already inside of you. You bite your lip, try to keep your voice down until he presses against that soft spongy spot and you hum out your pleasure, attempting to arch your back under his iron grip. He coos praises down at you, and those are somehow worse than the chastising. Your cheeks are hot thinking about the dancers that were in this room earlier, the ones that would return tomorrow, what would they think if they knew you were dripping all over the floor from your lead's fingers.

A third finger presses into you, stretching you with a delicious little burn. Full, but not in the way you want to be. Not in the way König knows you'll beg him for. He twists his fingers in and out of your cunt, working your clenching heat open. His eyes never leave your face, even as his tongue laps at your sweet folds. He can never get used to the way you fall apart for him. The way your little whines turn into panting pleas.

He never seems to stretch you out enough to not ache when he pushes his girthy cock into you. Always wants you to feel every inch, every vein, of it as it splits you open. It's no fun if he doesn't see the little spark of pain in your eyes when you raise your leg or drop into the splits. No fun if he can't fold you in half and hear you sob as he fucks into your tight little hole, begging for more from him. Always so greedy his little ballerina. You clench around his cock so nicely, gummy walls dragging against his length, so desperate to hold him inside. God you're gorgeous falling apart for him, legs shaking and head thrown back as you cum on his cock. He never has to slow his thrusts, he knows you can take it, knows you're as desperate for him to cum and fill you up as he is.

Pretty little ballerina. He loves watching his cum drip out of you, staining your already ruined clothes. Watching you dance is a treat, but knowing he'll have you like this afterwards? Well, that makes it all the better.

#I think König has a ballerina kink he's been neglecting #or like a tights kink because he is absolutely feral for this #minors dni #könig fanfiction #könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig mw2 #könig x f!reader #x reader #cod x reader #ballet au #König is a feral feral man #horrible creature of a man #darling has sweats in her dance bag but dude she cannot go home like that #really funny because I think she lives with other ballerina roommates #and they all are shocked and appalled that she and König fucked in the studio #it's good tea tho girl so keep spilling what else did the man do

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diordeer · 2 months

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౨ৎ LOVER, YOU SHOULD’VE COME OVER [00]

“it's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter. it's never over, she is the tear that hangs inside my soul forever” - jeff buckley (smau)

↳ MASTERLIST | NEXT

CONTAINS charlie bushnell x fem!reader

DESCRIPTION reader plays as artemis in season 3 of percy jackson (can we pls pretend artemis is in an older body), and also does ballet .. there is no specific face claim but she is white with blonde hair

TAGLIST if u would like to join comment or dm me :)

CHAPTERS

00. introduction (you are here!)

01. chapter one

02. coming soon

#charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #smau #social media au #aesthetic #charlie bushnell #in the know #x reader #ballerina!reader

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deprived-apathy · 2 months

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she's very amused by romance, which is why she's letting this slide for once LOL

(carnival! pomni and caine belongs to @sm-baby)

#tadc showtime #caine x pomni #carnival au #bella the ballerina #the amazing digital circus #digital circus #tadc #original character #kinger

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bubbiethesaur · 7 months

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Big Stretchy

#he stretch before dancing #lra Sun make brain go brrrrrr #Sun just rotating in my brain like a ballerina #I’m so happy to see little improvements in my coloring #Long Road Ahead Sun #PleasureBot!sun #dca au #fnaf sun #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf dca #bubbie art

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daydreaming-en-pointe · 3 months

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the swan and her princess (part 1)

summary: Swan Lake isn’t all beauty and grace, contrary to popular belief. And you experience firsthand that as you wage a one-sided war with your “rival” for the role of the Swan Princess, Odette.

pairing: Gwen Stacy (Spider-Woman) x fem!Ballerina!Reader

word count: 842

warnings: uses of Y/N, lots of ballet terms and references, the teacher displaying blatant favouritism ig?, mildly petty reader 💀

a/n: I finally got around to doing it! yay :D academic rivals to lovers ftw honestly

gearing up for my first official chapter-based fanfic WHOOOOOOOOO

dividers by me btw! it’s my first time doing dividers so any feedback would be appreciated <3

part 1 // part 2 (pending)

glossary:

Swan Lake: Swan Lake, Op. 20, is a ballet composed by Russian composer Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky in 1875–76. It is now one of the most popular ballets of all time. The ballet is based on a German fairy tale, and tells the story of a prince named Siegfried who falls in love with Odette, a princess who has been turned into a swan by an evil sorcerer

Odette: Odette is the main female protagonist in the ballet "Swan Lake," which is composed by Pyotr Tchaikovsky. She is the White Swan, also known as the Swan Princess/Swan Queen.

Anna Pavlova: Anna Pavlovna Pavlova was a Russian prima ballerina of the late 19th and the early 20th centuries. She was a principal artist of the Imperial Russian Ballet and the Ballets Russes of Sergei Diaghilev. (basically, every ballerina’s idol)

first position: In the first position, the heels are together, with toes turned out until the feet are in a large, open V or a straight line.

relevé: Relevé is a French term meaning "raised up." It is one of the basic ballet moves. The dancer starts in a demi-plié (a move where the dancer bends their knees halfway while keeping their feet on the ground) and then rises up into demi-pointe (on the balls of the feet) or en pointe (on the toes), either on one foot or both feet.

“Let’s take it from the top, Y/N. More turned out this time. And your ‘wings’ aren’t flowy enough. You are the very Swan Princess, not a struggling cygnet. You die gracefully.”

You blew air threw your nose a little more forcefully than you usually would, trying your best to follow your ballet teacher’s instructions.

“Ah, Gwendolyn! So nice of you to join us.”

That statement was usually used sarcastically in most settings. So why did your teacher’s voice take on a note of adoration? You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, not even looking at the new arrival. All she ever did was drop into class half an hour late - without even doing her hair in a proper bun - and get showered with praises for everything she did. Always Gwen this, Gwen that. You were so sick of it.

“Gwen, if you decide to try out, you would be a perfect fit for the White Swan,” Your teacher eagerly told her, and your ‘flowy feathers’ tightened into fists. Just brilliant. In her eyes, you had no chance at Odette, did you? Once again, Gwendolyn Stacy would swoop in and snatch up something you had worked so hard for, spending hours upon hours on late nights at the studio practising alone, all because the teacher thought she was the next Anna Pavlova. But every time, you bit your tongue and kept your head down. One day, you would show them. You would show them all how good you were. And little Gwendolyn Stacy, the number one teacher’s pet, would watch and weep.

You cleared your throat to jolt your teacher out of her rambling. “Miss? My audition?”

She blinked as if she were just noticing you. “Ah, right. Yes, you may continue.”

You were ready to hurl your pointe shoes at both of their annoying faces, but you focused on making yourself extra turned out and extra graceful. Oh, how the tables would turn when you got this role.

You risked a glance out of the corner of your eye and noticed with a smug satisfaction that Gwen was staring at you, eyes wide. Completely enthralled.

Ha-ha, Gwendolyn Stacy. Look upon actual, hard-earned talent and despair.

You finished the Dying Swan - the Swan Lake piece you were doing for your audition - and bowed, standing in first position with your head held high.

“Thank you, Y/N. That was very nice. Everyone, let’s get started. Get your shoes on and get into your positions at the barre, please.”

Ugh, the barre positions. Your arch-nemesis, apart from a certain Gwen Stacy. Well, maybe not apart from her, since your barre position was right in front of her.

“One, two, three, four - hold, two, three four…”

You tuned out the voice of your ballet teacher; the exercise was purely muscle memory to you by now, and her voice was only distracting you at the moment.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You were pulled out of your intense focus by the voice behind you. Once you realised who it was, you had to resist the urge to scoff. “What is it?”

“I, uh… I just wanted to say that you did amazing. It was very graceful. You’ll make a good White Swan.” That almost made you lose your balance in a relevé and twist your ankle, because what?

Gwen Stacy thought that you’d get the role?

Oh. That was new.

Or maybe it wasn’t, and you were just imagining the whole ‘undeserving slacker’ thing and painting her as the bad guy…?

You almost giggled at that. Nah. This was definitely some ploy to get you to relax a little, to stop practising almost obsessively. Yeah, she was just trying to ensure you weren’t a threat. The moment you let down your guard, she would snatch up the role of Odette. You just knew it. Well, she could try all she wanted; you would not make it easy for her.

“Oh, I know,” You replied coolly, ending the exercise with everyone else and turning to offer her a politely bored smile. “But thank you.”

Gwen’s smile dropped a little and her eyebrows scrunched together slightly, her piercings glinting in the studio’s warm light. “Okay, well… I’ll see you around, I guess.”

She reached down and grabbed her duffel bag, unceremoniously dropping her teal pointe shoes into the mess of clothes and who knows what else she kept in it.

You kept your eyes on her until she disappeared out the studio’s door after a quick goodbye to the teacher. She was like a ghost, always appearing and flickering out just as quickly as one. And somehow always getting away with it, every single time. Not to mention… she was also somehow really good. Despite missing classes and coming late.

“Remember, class. Now that I’ve seen all your auditions, the roles will be up next week. Don’t be late,” your teacher called as you all left the building.

You kissed your teeth in annoyance. Yeah, don’t be late. Unless you’re Gwen Stacy.

Good grief, that girl would be the death of you.

Taglist: (reply to be added!)

@hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099

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ohno-the-sun · 1 year

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More doodles of my black swan au

Sorta scenes and ideas from the movie

Umm lots of trigger warnings cause this movie is not for everyone. (Also let me know if I should add any)

Lore dump below cut

So I think I mentioned this before but there is uncertainty as to whether or not Moon is even real or a manifestation of Sun’s insecurities.

Like Sun’s perfect as the white swan, but everyone can see she’s not as good at portraying the black swan. Moon is clearly the best choice for the black swan and there is talk of replacing Sun with her.

Despite this Sun deeply admires Moon and wishes she was more like her.

Maybe cause they’re robots here Sun will quite literally be decommissioned if she can’t adapt.

Sun will need to transform into the black swan, both physically and mentally.

Basically if you’ve seen the movie it’s like the same themes and stuff.

#tw dereality #tw flashing #tw suggestive #tw unreality #tw hallucinations #something about breaking yourself while trying to be what everyone wants you to be #in lighter thoughts #i love drawing ballerinas they’re so pretty ❤️#fnaf daycare attendant #sundrop #moondrop #flashing #lights #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #my art #black swan au

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green-ajah-aes-sedai · 11 months

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Ramonda x Namora

Ballerina x Salsera AU

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strscrossed · 4 months

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kiss of death — part i

and here i present the ballerina/mafioso au. it's a slow start but i always like having a setup. anyway, eren's a mafia underboss along with his brother zeke. grisha is the boss and women are kept out of the family business. thanks @likesunsetorange for reading this over and also enabling me! 💕

eremika. 2.5k. explicit.

“And what do you mean you won’t be joining us for dinner?”

Eren glances at his father for a little assistance. His mother’s voice is low, something dangerous stirring behind the calm. At this point, Eren would rather be in enemy territory, without a gun, than deal with Carla Jaeger.

“It’s last minute but a business associate's daughter has a ballet recital and he’s treating us to dinner after. Sorry, mom. Can I take a raincheck?

The key to a good lie is a half-truth. He does, in fact, have to attend a ballet tonight. Not with a business associate but his mother isn’t to know that under any circumstances. He worries for a moment because his mother is quiet. Too quiet, in fact.

“Always with the rainchecks,” she mumbles, shaking her head. She glares at him for two seconds, narrowing her eyes before sighing, conceding defeat.

When he was younger, he had a tell. His ears would turn red and his mother had a habit of pinching them whenever she would catch him in one. But adulthood has turned him into a seasoned liar.

“And you couldn’t handle this because…?” Carla glares at her husband, who sits on the sofa cross-legged, reading a newspaper. Grisha Jaeger is afraid of no one. Except, maybe, his wife.

“I’m close to retirement, dear. The boys are grown now, it’s time they got involved in matters of the family business. If I keep doing it, they’ll never learn anything. And I’m not getting any younger.

Zeke, who stands a few feet away, snorts quietly. Grisha’s “fragile old man” shtick would be laughable to anyone but his wife. Carla shakes her head. Again, a sigh of defeat as her husband gives her those weary eyes. Eren has to bite his tongue to keep the laugh from escaping.

“Eren’s hardly around anymore,” she says, shaking her head. “Can I at least have a meal with my boy once a week?”

He can’t say no to her.

“Of course, mom.”

She sits back in her chair, teacup in hand. She mourns time lost with her son but unbeknownst to her, she is living comfortably because of all this. And to keep all this, he has to break yet another promise to his mother.

“I need to head out now,” he tells everyone, with Grisha and Zeke nodding and Carla sighing.

“Who is going with you?”

“Armin and Floch,” he answers. At the mention of Floch’s name, he sees her face pinch a little. No, he’s not having this conversation again. She’s made her distaste for that young man abundantly clear. He doesn’t want to stick around to hear her ask his father, yet again, why he keeps him around.

“Bye,” he says and he’s out the door before his mother can get another word in.

➽───────────────────❥ ➽───────────────────❥

The fresh air fills his lungs as he closes the door behind him. His mother still doesn’t suspect a thing and that’s how he wants to keep it. It’s a dirty, grimy world that only the men of the family are privy to. If she really knew what the real family business was…

He doesn’t want to even entertain that idea. These are the rules. They exist for a reason. And he stopped feeling bad about lying to her years ago. It’s a lesson that’s been beaten into him since he was sixteen years old.

Eren slides into the front seat of the car. Floch is driving and Armin takes his place in the backseat. Neither man makes an effort to converse with each other and that’s fine. Their bickering is a source of Eren’s frayed nerves too often.

“Ackerman soldiers were spotted frequenting the ballet, huh?” Eren asks. It’s a rhetorical question.

“Quite a few of them actually,” Floch responds, his eyes glued to the road.

“It’s because one of their own is this year’s prima ballerina,” Armin adds. “A large number of them are said to be in attendance this evening.”

“Frequent the ballet, Arlert? How do you even know that?” Floch asks.

Eren stays quiet as he glances at Armin’s unamused expression in the rearview mirror. Thankfully, he’s not the explosive type.

“Well, if you must know, knowing about different things helps me navigate and infiltrate a number of different circles. You might want to culture yourself a little more, Floch.”

Oh, here they go.

“So, one of their own, huh? Old Kenny’s extorting ballet companies now?” Eren snorts. “His niece wanted to become a ballerina so good ole Uncle Kenny made it happen? Never took him to be such a fucking softie.”

No, actually, if that is the case, it’ll be easier to get under the old fucker’s skin.

“Actually, I hear Mikasa Ackerman is a once in a generation talent. And just in case, tonight’s performance is a ballet called Giselle. It’s about a young woman who falls in love with a nobleman and when they can’t be together she dies of heartbreak but that’s not where it ends—”

“I don’t care, Armin,” Eren cuts him off. “I don’t care about ballet or the girl. We’re going there for one reason and one reason only — to watch the Ackerman’s every move. Everything else is worthless and irrelevant.”

He hears Armin sink back into his seat, sighing.

Eren does his best not to twist his face in annoyance. A ballet of all places. He never thought he’d be caught dead at one of those…

➽───────────────────❥ ➽───────────────────❥

Kenny Ackerman is nowhere to be seen. Naturally, his old ass couldn’t be bothered to show up anywhere someone could see him. Levi Ackerman, however, is seated in the very front row. Armin manages to get them balcony seats so they can see everything.

It’s the most boring observation ever because the Ackerman associates and soldiers are just seated there.

This is why soldiers and lower level soldiers are sent to do this crap. Now he has to sit through a two hour long ballet and pretend to know what’s going on.

Occasionally, the man to Levi’s right will lean over and whisper something to his ear. He simply nods, giving nothing away.

“What are they saying?” Floch mutters to himself, squinting as if to read the lips.

Armin, meanwhile, is observing their surroundings. It’s entirely possible that they’ve been spotted.

“None here,” he assures Eren after a while.

Before he can say anything, the theater lights dim.

Eren knows jackshit about ballet. He doesn’t care to know what’s going on. The arts, the gentler things in life, were things he never cared to become acquainted with. So when the lights dim and the sound of violins fill the theater, he groans. He hears a lady gasp and jump behind him and he can’t help but scoff. It’s nothing compared to the sound of gunfire, bones breaking, or knives cutting through skin.

The Ackerman party, however, stops talking. Their eyes are glued to the stage and, unwillingly, Eren turns his attention to the stage. The whole production is colorful. Too colorful. It’s an eyesore.

He has no idea what’s going on. There are several dancers on stage at the beginning and then it’s just two guys. No one’s talking, obviously, it’s a ballet not a play. Armin’s probably watching completely enthralled, but he’s not impressed. He leans back in his chair, bored out of his mind as he watches them prance around the stage.

He’d never willingly show up to these things. But, when his father received word of a large gathering of Ackerman, of course he had to show up for it.

If the Ackerman are here, he needs to keep an eye on all of their activities. They might be here for the girl, but that’s immaterial for Eren.

He doesn’t care about ballet.

He doesn’t care for the girl—

His thoughts come to a screeching halt when a young woman appears on the stage. She looks around, and prances around the stage. And just like that, Eren is drawn right into the performance.

She’s graceful, her movements are so natural, so effortless. It’s like she belongs up there. Whatever she’s doing — whoever she’s playing — she embodies the role perfectly.

If he knows nothing else about ballet, he knows this much.

“That’s Mikasa Ackerman,” Armin leans in to whisper in his ear. “This year’s prima ballerina.”

He doesn’t know what the hell is going on but it gets sad pretty quickly, he assumes. He hears sniffling behind and near him. Floch looks endlessly bored and Armin, as predicted, is really into the performance.

Eren is focused on his dancer.

If he could compare her face to anything, it would be the moon. It is the illuminated beauty in the dark of the night and even from here, her eyes light up like the millions of stars. Only hers are brighter.

It goes on for two hours, which Eren decides is not long enough. He’ll watch her perform all day and night if that’s what it takes.

When the curtains close and everyone stands up to clap, he cannot bring himself to do so. His beautiful dancer is no longer in front of him and he finds no reason to celebrate that.

“Well, that was uneventful,” Floch mutters disappointingly. “I thought they might actually try something. I thought we might actually gain an advantage over them.”

Oh, right, they had a job to do.

“Floch, if you thought they were coming to a ballet, which by the way one of their own is performing at, to try and pull something you’ve set your expectations way too high.”

“Yeah, well if you haven’t noticed, this is our territory—”

“—technically, no it’s not.”

“What? Are you secretly on their side, Arlert? Because it sounds to me like you are.”

“Would you two shut up?” Eren growls, prompting the two of them to shut their mouths. “Armin, is she set to be in any more shows?”

“I can check but if she’s the prima ballerina, you can bet on it.”

Well, he is a betting man. And he always wins.

“Then we’ll keep coming back. Sooner or later, they’ll start conducting business around here. We should watch for that.”

He receives no protest. He does his best to keep a poker face but as he exits the theater, the corners of his turn up slightly…

➽───────────────────❥ ➽───────────────────❥

“So?” Grisha asks, closing the door behind him. Eren and Zeke stand side by side as Grisha walks back to his desk, settling down and making himself comfortable before Eren allows himself to answer.

“Nothing special. The Ackerman girl is part of the ballet, so they were serving as glorified bodyguards. The three of us watched them the whole time and nothing happened.”

Disappointing news to say the least. So much for this being a golden opportunity to strike against the Ackerman. As always, they manage to elude them by doing absolutely nothing.

“Even so, continue to watch the ballet,” Grisha instructs. “One evening will tell us nothing. And if the girl is part of the ballet, well they’ll frequent that theater. Perhaps, old Kenny Ackerman might show up.”

Fat chance.

“And Zeke,” he turns to his eldest son. “Are the girls of any use?”

“Nope,” his brother answers. “The men don’t frequent brothels. In fact, the girls haven’t heard of either of them.”

“Damn it!” his father curses, pounding the table with his fists. The whole thing is a little over dramatic in Eren’s opinion.

Weaker men cower before Grisha Jaeger. He is someone that you don’t want to piss off. In all fairness, the Jaegers in general are people you don’t want to piss off. The two brothers are the only ones immune to their father’s fear tactics. Though, he is certainly not just talk. He wouldn’t be in this position otherwise.

“It is decided then,” Grisha mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The Reiss and the Tyburs agree that this cannot continue.”

There is a tenuous peace between the families. Initially, each family controlled a third of the island and conflicts broke out through the generations. Eren’s grandfather realized there were more benefits to keeping these families as allies than enemies. Though tenuous is the best way to describe whatever alliance they had going.

“And what does that mean?” Zeke questions.

Grisha responds with a small smile.

“I won’t keep you as you two have more work to do. I have arranged it. Zeke, you are to marry Rod Reiss’ eldest daughter, Frieda. And Eren, you are to marry Willy Tybur’s younger sister, Lara. You are to meet with them, court them, and the official engagement will be two months from today. It is done. You two will honor it.”

What century was this?

“What the fuck, old man?” Eren growls and two pairs of eyes are on him.

“What was that?” his father asks, daring him to repeat it.

“You just sold us to the Reiss and Tyburs? You just want us to go along with it? What the fuck?”

Grisha’s not used to having his authority questioned. Sometimes Eren is going to whine but usually he doesn’t have an issue doing his father’s bidding. Extort the local jeweler? No problem. Take care of a guy and dispose of his corpse? Done. Spy on a couple of low level Ackerman associates? He can do that in his sleep.

Marriage though? Fuck no. That was different. That is something sacred and just for him.

“You don’t have a choice. You’re going to go through with this, Eren. I’ve given you way too much freedom. You’re marrying Lara Tybur. End of discussion. You have dinner reservations tomorrow night at 8 pm. Make sure you’re not late and I’ll know if you two fuck this up. Now get the hell out of my office.”

As the door closes behind the two of them, Eren is prepared to stomp down the hall but Zeke’s hand on his shoulder stops him.

“Careful, Eren,” he warns. “Step out of line and the old man isn’t going to hesitate to give you the kiss of death.”

Eren scowls, “And when did you become the obedient son? ”

“You didn’t seem to have an issue when he decided that you’d join the family business. You don’t have an issue doing his dirty work. But you draw the line at marriage. Interesting. Is there someone?”

“Fuck off, Zeke! It’s entirely fucking different and you know it! Does there have to be someone? And you’re one to talk! Pieck Finger is it?”

“Watch it, Eren,” Zeke warns him, all amusement vanishing from his face.

“Hit a nerve? Does the old man already know? Is that why you’re so okay with going along with it?”

Zeke narrows his eyes, “I suggest you keep your mouth shut and do as you’re told.”

“Whatever. I’m tired.”

He stomps off. Zeke might be okay with this, but he definitely isn’t. He’ll do anything for this family but this was too much! And without even consulting the two of them. Shouldn’t he have a say in who he marries?

As he silently rages, images of Mikasa Ackerman moving gracefully around the stage flood his mind. And all the rage dissipates into thin air…

#ballerina/mafioso au #eremika #fic #em tumblr fic

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softbirdieokay · 2 months

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Jegulus fic idea where Regulus used to sneak out of his parent’s house to a ballet studio. He harbored a secret passion for dancing, which Sirius knew about and helped him pursue.

But, eventually, his parents find out and Orion shatters his leg, leaving Regulus with a lifelong limp and the inability to pursue his dreams.

Regulus and Sirius get out of the house, but Reggie pushes everyone away.

Years later, Regulus is teaching ballet to little kids, when a familiar looking boy stumbles into the studio, tugging his single dad behind him.

“So, this is where you ended up,” James said, a wry grin on his face. His eyes still crinkled in the corners, just like Regulus remembered.

Regulus glared. “What’s it to you?”

James leveled him with a look that shook Regulus. “Don’t be that way, love.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Then what should I call you?”

Regulus looked him up and down before turning to the group of children. “Class,” he said, strutting across the floor. “My name is Monsieur Black. Répétez. Monsieur Black.”

The children echoed his name and Regulus cut his eyes at James, barely holding back a blush when the infuriating man grinned.

#someone please write this #it cannot be me #ballerina regulus #dilf james #jegulus fic idea #jegulus #starchaser #james x regulus #james potter #harry potter #regulus black #sirius and regulus #sirius black #walburga's a+ parenting #marauders #jegulus au

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oh-surprise-its-me · 5 months

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Roy/Jamie Prompt: If Roy & Jamie weren't footballers, How do YOU picture them meeting for the first time?

I love a good meet ugly!!!!

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In Jamie’s defense he’s never seen Phoebe with a man besides him before. She’s only ever been here with her mum before and to quote Ruth “if a man ever brings her in without me. Punch him on the spot and call me.” Jamie took that to heart. He saw him touch her skirt and hold her shoulder he just reacted.

“I’m so sorry!” Phoebe is cackling from behind Jamie. “Jamie! You got uncle Roy!”

Said uncle Roy is currently glaring at Jamie, “nice punch for a ballerina.” Jamie glares at the man with the bleeding nose. “Phoe go get uncle Roy here a towel.” Phoebe takes off for the locker room.

“I really am sorry. Thought you were a creep. Ruth said to punch a man if he ever was with Phoebe.” Roy coughs, it sounds like a cut off laugh. “Good on her.”

Jamie snaps out of it and grabs the man’s arm to sit him down. “So sorry. Lord I’m so sorry please don’t sue me.”

Roy makes a choked laugh. “Ironic since I’m a lawyer.” Jamie stares at the man. “Oh fuck me.” Phoebe comes back before more can be said. “Uncle Roy should I call mummy?” They both shake their heads no quickly.

“No Phoe baby it’s fine. Mr. Jamie meant well.” Jamie aggressive nods. “So sorry. She’s just here so often and I saw her start from so young so you show up and Ruth said punch first ask later-”

Jamie cuts himself off when he sees how Roy is smiling at him. “Good. Never did like the sperm donor of a man. Should buy you a coffee if this is how close you’ve been taking care of Phoebe here.

Jamie blinks. “I’m always a yes for coffee?” Phoebe claps her hands and jumps, “mummy was right!” She claps her hands over her mouth and takes off towards the lockers.

Roy leans back and smiles, “brilliant kid. Mums alright too I guess. Heard a lot about the fabulous ballet teacher though. Wanna hear more over coffee.”

A giggle rips it’s way out of Jamie’s throat, he might be losing his mind here but at least Roy is hot. “Absolutely yes. Tell me when and I’ll be there.” Roy smiles and takes his phone out, “number, I’ll plan more once I’m out of bloody clothing.” Jamie winces and the reminder. He adds his number in anyways

“It’s fine Jamie. Wouldn’t of asked if I wasn’t sure. I’ve heard good things. So coffee this weekend?” Jamie leans a bit closer to Roy, “course. I’m free. All weekend even…”

Roy’s grin turns sharp, he stands and walks back towards the waiting room for parents. “I’ll text you. See you after class yeah?” Jamie nods, definitely seeing after class. Going to hope he sees him so much more after that too.

He spins and claps his hands. No time for distraction, he’s got a class to teach.

#ted lasso #jamie tartt #roy kent #ballerina x lawyer au #meet ugly #roy kent x jamie tartt #jamie tartt x roy kent #royjamie #jamie x roy #roy x jamie #mac writes ted lasso #phoebe kent

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