#like. yes the run is practically flawless. but the most impressive part is the mental fortitude required to practice the game

[rocketbirdie]

So I've never played FFVII, why does everyone hate the snowboarding minigame? Is it really so hard?

TERRIBLE controls. As in, I have no clue how the devs managed to make it feel that impressively bad to play. it's extremely oversensitive and way too easy to crash into things and kill all of your momentum. Personally i love it and i think more games should have little inconsequential sections with garbage controls. it builds character

[nxrthmizu]

OMGGG CONGRATS ON 700!!! For the light festival pls can i request Daichi (romantic) i am a bubbly person who loves sports and being outdoors, whether its walks or just chilling in parks! I am also a big film buff and could watch and geek out to them for hours!! And 17 fluff? :)))

| Heart Eyes on the Ice | Sawamura Daichi 

»»——⍟——««

prompt | #17- Ice 

pairing | Sawamura Daichi x Reader 

words | 1.9k

author’s note | Thank you bby!!! And thanks for the ask, too 💕💕💕

»»——⍟——««

The laces felt smooth and light in your gloved hands as you tied them up into a ribbon. A sigh dropped from your lips as you warmed up by the side of the rink, mentally and physically preparing yourself for the day ahead of you. 

In the far horizon, the sun was just beginning to yawn and stretch, winking its’ blurry eyes open. The area around the lake was more or less empty, with the exception of a few of the technical crew that were running test runs with the lights. 

An elaborate light show had been set up above the lake, lanterns of all shapes and sizes dangling above the ice. You’d seen them turn on the lights while you were practicing, and you had to admit, the light show they’d prepared was pretty impressive. 

“Y/N!” Your manager called out to you with a smile, dressed thickly in a winter coat. “Nervous?” 

“Not really.” You shook your head, shrugging off your jacket as your stood up. You were dressed in a black sweater and a pair of grey tights, not dressing too thickly as you knew you would get warm as soon as you got moving. “I’ve practiced pretty hard for this one.”

Every year, a light festival would be held at the Shikotsu Lake during Christmas. A new theme would be used for the festival every year, and this year it had been ‘ice’, so they had invited you- One of Japan’s Olympic figure skaters- To perform at the event. 

She grinned. “I’m sure it’ll go off without a hitch.” 

“I hope so. I don’t want to let down the kids who come and watch.” You smile, remembering how delighted you were when you were younger and watched adult skaters pull off triple axels flawlessly on the TV. “Hopefully, I inspire some kid just like how Hanyu Tetsuya inspired me.” 

Your manager winked at you. “I’m sure you will! I’m going to go check with the sound crew to make you they’ll be ready to play the music, you’ll be fine, right?” 

You nodded, letting your shoulders relax as you made your way over to the frozen lake. A puff of white emerged from your mouth as you breathed out, letting your mind quiet down. Your fingers reached down for your blade guards, slipping them off easily. 

Pushing out onto the ice, your body and mind relaxed at the soft sound of your blade cutting across the ice. Gracefully, you stretched your arms out slowly, raising your left leg up to a 90 degree angle. Your arms reached backwards, you leg curving up so you could touch your ice skates with your gloved fingers. 

Your eyes scanned the lake, planning out where you were going to go. The routine you had practiced for days on end was at your fingertips, and after one more round around the lake, you were ready to begin. The music sounded in your mind, the track memorised by your brain. 

Humming along to the track you had chosen for the performance, you let your body move across the ice like it was something you’d been doing since you were born. You jumped, turning three times and bracing yourself for the landing, the clink of your blades against the ice a familiar noise. 

Once you had finished your routine, you started making your way back to land. Sighing as your let your momentum carry you to the edge of the lake, you urged your body to relax, prying any tension out of your muscles. Slipping on your blade guards, you decided to make your way back to where you had stashed your bag. 

“That was amazing.” Turning at the voice, you came eye-to-eye with a pair of warm hazel orbs, amazement lit and burning inside them. “I’ve never seen anyone move more gracefully.” 

“Thank you.” You smiled, holding out your hand. The dark-haired man looked around your age- He was probably a university student, like you. He wore a dark-coloured jacket with ‘CREW’ spelt on the back, like all the others around the lake. “You are...?” 

He seemed to forget his name for a moment. “Oh! Um... Sawamura Daichi.” He said, having remembered his name. “And you’re L/N Y/N.” Crimson coloured his cheeks as he realised how stupid it was for him to declare your name- As if you didn’t know it. 

“Yeah.” You giggled. “That’ll be me.” 

He scratched his arm awkwardly. “Um... I should probably get back to work.” He admitted, sounding like he didn’t want to go. Looking behind you, he could see the other crew members, most of them university students like him, either giving him thumbs up or glaring at him. 

“Oh. See you later, then!” You shot him a smile, scolding and suppressing the way your heart jumped when he grinned and rubbed the back of his head. 

“I’d like that.” 

You watched him go with a dazed expression on your face. His cute, awkward smile caught you completely off guard. Sawamura Daichi, you repeated to yourself, memorising his name. Sawamura Daichi. 

“Earth to Y/N.” Jumping in shock when your manager waved her hand in front of you face, you caught yourself, flustered. “Someone’s got a little crush~” 

“I- Can you blame me, though?” You sighed guiltily. “He’s so...” You fumbled around for the right word. “Warm. He gives off that... Warm vibe. He seems like the kind of guy who would be a great boyfriend.” 

Your manager wiggled her eyebrows at you. “Lucky for you, I know what university he goes to~” 

“Really?” You perked up. Your excitement must’ve been too obvious, because your manager gave you a teasing look. 

“He goes to the same university as you do. He’s a sociology student, I heard he wants to be a police after he graduates.” Your manager informs you, nudging you un-discreetly. “And I know for sure he’s single!” 

A blush blossomed across your cheeks. “That’s good.” You murmured under your breath. 

»»——⍟——««

“Daichi, you’re literally making heart eyes right now.” Kiyoko cleared her throat. The two of them had signed up to help for the festival, Daichi working in the light crew while Kiyoko worked as an assistant manager. 

“Half of the crew already wants to kill you for being friends with Kiyoko-san, now the other half wants to kill you for talking to L/N-san.” Iwaizumi, who had signed up as part of the light crew, snorted. “Be glad I’m gay and dating Oikawa, or I’d want to murder you, too.” 

Daichi blinked. “... Thank you?” 

“Sawamura! Iwaizumi! Go help Katsuki, there’s something wrong with the lights’ timing!” The supervisor of the light crew hollered. “And Sawamura, stop flirting!” 

Kiyoko giggled as the two boys ran off, a fierce red dusting Daichi’s cheeks while Iwaizumi watched in amusement. Things were just getting interesting. 

»»——⍟——««

Fourteen hours passed very quickly, and before you knew it, it was time for your performance. Night had fallen over Shikotsu Lake, and the light show was just about to begin. You took a deep breath to calm yourself, feeling your heart drum against your chest. Somehow, this performance was more nerve-racking than your Olympic ones- Because you knew there would be kids in the crowd and you didn’t want to let down Miyagi’s future skaters. 

“Hey! You’re going to be fine.” A tap on your shoulder was all that warned you before you came face-to-face with Daichi, whose comfort-is-needed sense was tingling. “You’ve skated for Japan in the Olympics. You’re going to be perfect out there.” His voice softened, doing wonders to your hectic nerves. 

A breath left your throat. “Alright.” You smiled. “I got this.” 

“You got this.” He nodded, agreeing supportively.

You stepped up into the light, a spotlight directing down on you as you took a deep breath, stepping out onto the ice. Muscle memory took over, and before you knew it, your nerves were completely gone. The light show begin above you, shining down on the reflective lake in pinks, blues, and yellows. 

Daichi smiled proudly as he watched the light show accentuate your movements. You were the definition of beauty and grace; There was no doubt of that in his mind. Every movement you made was smooth and flawless, and you didn’t hesitate even once. Your skates carried you across the lake without pause, never faltering. 

“You’re doing it again, Sawamura.” Iwaizumi said dryly. “He’s got it bad.” He said to Kiyoko. 

Kiyoko giggled, holding a clipboard. “Yes, he does.” 

Your manager laughed in harmony with Kiyoko, agreeing. “She’s got it bad, too.” She said softly, Kiyoko blinking in surprise. 

“She... Likes him back?” Kiyoko asked lowly, dipping her head closer to your manager. 

“Yep. Don’t tell him. I want to see if they can figure it out without us nudging them.” Your manager grinned. “Let them dance around each other hopelessly for a while.” 

“I don’t think we’ll have to wait long.” Kiyoko smiled, gesturing to you, who had just finished your performance. The crowd cheered and clapped for you, some throwing a few flowers, which you picked up from the fresh snow gratefully. You bowed one more time. 

Iwaizumi chuckled as Daichi walked away from the group towards you. “There he goes.” 

»»——⍟——««

“That was amazing.” He complimented as he met your halfway, the two of you walking backstage, out of view of the crowd. 

You grinned, slightly breathless. “Yeah. I don’t think I could’ve performed like that if you didn’t talk to me before the performance.” Looking away, you blushed. And I know for sure he’s single. 

“I’m honoured that I could help.” He smiled widely, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. That seemed to be a habit of his, you noted with a fond smile. “They’re going to start the second light show soon. You want to go watch?” 

“Of course!”  

The two of you sneaked out of backstage discreetly, staying out of public eye. Daichi lead you to a more isolated part by the lake, the two of you getting comfortable on the snow. Thankful that you had worn your waterproof pants for the performance, you sighed contentedly. 

Lights begin to burst out in vivid colours across the sky, the set-up going off without a hitch. “Whoa... You helped set that up?” You said incredulously. “That’s so beautiful!” 

“Yeah.” He said shyly. “I had to research how to rig light timing before I showed up for set-up. It was worth it, I learned a lot from the professionals. I mostly just hung up the lights, though.” 

“It’s still awesome.” You insisted. 

He hummed, a comfortable silence falling between the two of you as the light show ensued. “Are you cold?” He asked softly, noting that you were only dressed in the thin fabric that was your figure skating costume. 

“A little.” You admitted. Your eyes brightened when he opened his arms, allowing your to snuggle in between him, his larger body enveloping yours. Never in your entire life had you been so bold when approaching a relationship, but Daichi just had a warmth that drew you in, like a moth to a flame- Except the flame didn’t hurt the moth. 

Daichi breathed deeply, his heart hammering in his chest. You fit inside his embrace perfectly, like the two of you were two puzzle pieces that were made for each other. 

“Um. Are you free next Friday?” He asked you quietly as the light show drew to an end. 

“I think so.” You hummed thoughtfully. “I have skating practice Friday evening, but I’m free after 6pm.” 

“So... I’ll pick you up at 8?” 

»»——⍟——««

[blaineandersonsub]

Your Song | Seblaine

Who: Sebastian Smythe & Blaine Anderson @switchseb

When: Saturday, 2/13/21

Where: Music Practice Room

What: First kiss, then pain.

Blaine D. Anderson

Blaine took a deep breath as he watched his fingers gracefully move across the keys of the piano he was sat at, to the tune of Teenage Dream, that was in a practice room he'd managed to grab for the afternoon. Singing and playing music in any capacity helped him relax in more ways than he could describe, and it was when he was at his most comfortable, so it just made sense to be doing so while mentally preparing for Sebastian to arrive. Because of course he had to go develop a crush on a straight guy, something he'd promised himself he'd never do again when it happened the first time. He was about mid-song when he heard the door open behind him, and he jumped and quickly turned on the stool, running a hand over his gelled hair to reassure himself that he looked okay. "Hey, Sir. I was... just warming up. It's nice to see you, you look... great. As usual," He said, offering the taller man a small smile as he played with his fingers in his lap.

Sebastian Smythe

Sebastian knew it was dangerous to spend more time with Blaine so soon after their scene on Thursday, but he couldn't deny himself the joy he felt when he was around him. But Sebastian convinced himself that if he was able to maintain self control then, he would be able to do so now. Even if he didn't know which room he was meeting Blaine, he would have followed the sound of the music coming from a well tuned piano. He could carry a tune on it, but nothing like what Blaine was doing. Sebastian didn't knock, he just peered through the glass window in the middle of the door and let himself in. "It's nice to see you too. But you don't have to stop on my account," he assured him, taking a seat against the wall. It gave him the perfect view of Blaine on the piano. Sebastian crossed his legs and offered a small smile. "Please, continue."

Blaine D. Anderson

Blaine let out a nervous, soft laugh as he glanced back at the piano over his shoulder, biting the inside of his lower lip. "I... right. Sure," He said, turning on the stool once more before taking a deep breath. Of course he had to choose this song to warm up with, when the one person that came to mind while singing the majority of it was less than ten feet away. He started the song over, but kept his eyes glued to the piano this time as he both sang and played. He didn't trust himself to look over there, not when he knew just how expressive his eyes could be. A few moments later, he played the final note and sang the last word, then pressed a combination of keys to indicate that he was finished. "So, uh... was it okay?" He asked, analyzing each and every action, each and every word he sang in the process. He could hear a few parts where he could have controlled his breathing a little better, but not even he could fault himself for that in this particular situation.

Sebastian Smythe

This was an easy exchange for Sebastian. All he really needed to do was show up and listen. So it was unclear to him why he was so tense. He didn’t recognize the song when he first stepped in, but when Blaine restarted it did and he listened to every word, his mind wandering. While he played, Sebastian didn’t take his eyes off of him. There was so much passion in his voice and he wished he could see his face. But it was probably better this way. This way Sebastian could keep his gaze on the other man without feeling like he had to pull away. This way Sebastian could memorize Blaine’s profile and the curve of his back and legs. Sebastian have a soft clap at the conclusion of the song and placed the smile back on his face when Blaine turned to face him. “It was more than okay,” he confirmed truthfully. “Is that a go to song for you? I can tell that it’s well practiced, it was flawless even.”

Blaine D. Anderson

Blaine blushed and looked down at his lap when Sebastian started clapping, laughing softly and nodding once. "I... yeah, it is. I've been playing and singing that song for years now. Katy Perry is a personal favorite, but also Pink and other top 40s artists. Not totally about the musicals. I also have a few Freddie Mercury's under my belt. I can also play guitar and violin. All self taught," He explained, a proud glint in his eye as he moved his gaze back up to meet Sebastian's. He had quite the repertoire of music styles he could both sing and play, and he was incredibly proud of it. "Do you play at all? Piano, I mean," He asked, offering the other man a small smile.

Sebastian Smythe

There it was again, the passion that was sparked when Blaine was confronted with something he loved. Except this time Sebastian got to see it in person. His lips quirked up into a subtle smile as he listened to Blaine go on and on about his repertoire. "Self taught, huh? Impressive." When the conversation was brought back to him, he simply nodded and moved from where he was sitting to sit next to Blaine on the piano bench. "I'm not as skilled as you but I can play enough to stay in tune when I'm singing." Sebastian played a C scale, then a D♭ scale and finally a D scale before pulling his fingers back from the piano and placing his clasped hands in his lap. "Now enough about me, I'm sure I was promised a particular song," Sebastian reminded, moving his gaze from the piano to the man right next to him.

Blaine D. Anderson

Blaine watched the other's hands closely, with both surprise and intrigue, as Sebastian began to play the three scales. He knew he shouldn't be this stunned, because he wasn't the only piano player in the world, but this was just another thing he and the Switch had in common. Something they could share and talk about, maybe even do together. God, why do you have to be hetero? He smiled, his gaze moving up to meet the taller man's, who he was now realizing was much closer than he thought. He didn't mind it though, he got a better view of each and every one of those beautiful features the other possessed. When Sebastian looked over at him, he quickly looked around the room in an attempt to play it off, chewing on his lip for a moment before nodding. "That's true. We should also practice that duet, I believe. I promised you Your Eyes, right?" He tried, turning his attention back to the piano and playing a few scales of his own just because he could.

Sebastian Smythe

Sebastian also underestimated how close they were until Blaine turned to look at him. So close he could feel the other man's breath on his face. He tried not to let it show how it affected him, keeping a stead breath and his hands put. If he just leaned a little closer... Sebastian stood up, keeping his composure as he smoothed down the front of his clothes. "I wouldn't be opposed to a little practice as well. But yes, first you did promise me a rendition of Your Eyes." Sebastian moved to the spot he previously held, sitting with his legs crossed. "Don't want to crowd you." He explained. "Plus this is the best seat in the house. It allows me to see everything."

Blaine D. Anderson

Blaine let out a soft breath when Sebastian got up to move, he just wasn't sure if it was in protest or relief. Having Sebastian close felt good, but on the flip side, it was dangerous. He was already having feelings he shouldn't have for a guy he literally couldn't have, he didn't need to make that any more obvious than it was. His gaze followed Sebastian as he sat, and he simply nodded and offered him a small smile before turning and starting to play the song. He didn't feel he could trust himself to speak. It was easy enough to get through though, and well within his vocal range, so getting the song out was no problem. The problem he was having was avoiding looking over there, but eventually he just gave in and smiled over at Sebastian as he sang and played in tandem. It would be rude not to when playing a song the other man had specifically requested anyway, he felt. After he played the last note, he rubbed his hands together in his lap. "And how did the guy in the best seat in the house like that little number?" He grinned.

Sebastian Smythe

From the first note to the last, Sebastian was enthralled. Blaine's voice hit him in the chest like a ton of bricks cracking his heart and causing it to spread out into his limbs. He couldn't remember the last time he was moved by a song like this. But Sebastian maintained control, even when he looked over and made eye contact. He was in awe, watching as the song was delivered in such a flawless manner, it was absolutely impossible to keep his eyes off of Blaine. When it ended, Sebastian wanted nothing more than to ask Blaine to keep singing. He clapped once more and returned the submissive's grin. "It was remarkable." As someone who didn't do big displays of emotion, that was plenty for him. Sebastian stood once more, this time because there was too much space between them and he took a seat next to Blaine once more. "Teach me."

Blaine D. Anderson

Blaine blushed and laughed softly, looking back down at the keys to try and conceal just how red his cheeks were getting when Sebastian complimented him. "Yeah? Remarkable?" He asked, glancing up when he heard the sound of footsteps. It took him back to their first meeting, when he'd been standing next to the piano in the choir room and he could hear footsteps approaching from behind. The thought made him smile even more as his gaze followed the other man, who moved to sit next to him. "Yeah, okay," He said in a softer tone, hesitating before carefully taking Sebastian's wrist on his left hand. He carefully placed the Switch's finger on middle C and smiled up at him. "This is like... your home key. It's middle C, aka a quaint little town between treble clef land and bass clef land. Now," He paused, starting to rearrange Sebastian's fingers on both hands, carefully placing them on the keys he'd need for the opening notes to the song. "Play each key from left to right, starting with your left pinky."

Sebastian Smythe

Sebastian was more than ready to take Blaine's lead and didn't protest when Blaine took his hand. He just hoped Blaine didn't feel the way his pulse quickened when he did so or the way he held his breath until his wrist was released. It wasn't the direction he was expecting them to go in but he didn't stop them until he realized exactly what was happening. There was a soft chuckle and a gentle touch to Blaine's back to get his attention. He was amused, but there was nothing but affection in his eyes as he looked down at Blaine. "No, sweetheart. I know how to play the piano. I meant teach me how to play that song in particular." It was easy to see how his request was misconstrued. He wasn't very clear with what he asked. "Or just a part of it. Let's start with the chorus."

Blaine D. Anderson

Blaine blinked and his face pretty much turned bright red, a nervous laugh erupting from his mouth. "Oh God," He huffed out, then hid his face in both hands as he shook his head. "Right, okay. I... should have guessed that, because hello... you knew those three scales. I just... oops," He murmured, peeking out from his hands after a moment before looking back down at the keys, wrinkling his nose up for a moment. "Yeah, okay," He said, then moved to start playing the first part of the chorus slowly, making sure to tell Sebastian each note as he played it. After the first , he then pulled his hands back, glancing up at the other man. "Your turn."

Sebastian Smythe

Sebastian's immediate reaction was to sooth the submissive. He continued to rub Blaine's back and shush him as he had his moment. "No," he chuckled. "It's okay. I wasn't very clear with what I meant." It was hard not to focus on how adorable he looked in his current state and if it wasn't the result of Blaine being embarrassed he would want to see it more often. Sebastian was so focused on the notes Blaine was playing and following suit that he kept his hand on the other man's back. Not only that, but it just felt the most comfortable on the small piano bench. Gracefully, he placed his fingers on the keys and tried to use what he knew about the different scales and his memory to play the melody. The rhythm was a little off but the notes were all right. "That was easy enough. I'm going to be a regular ol' Elton John by the time you're done with me," he joked with a bright smile.

Blaine D. Anderson

Blaine should have been watching Sebastian's hands as he played, but he was more focused on his features. The way his eyes bounced around the piano as he focused on the keys, that stunning smile that had formed while he was playing, the way his hair stayed perfectly styled, even while looking down, the light freckles that littered the other man's cheeks. He was certain he hadn't run into someone this pretty in far too long, and even still, he could feel Sebastian's comforting touch against his back, and the fingers in his hair just a few days prior, and even the hand against his cheek as he fell asleep. When the song started coming to a close he was forced to push those thoughts aside, instead taking a breath and dropping his eyes down to watch Sebastian play the last few notes. He couldn't help but furrow his eyebrows a little at the Elton John reference, biting his lip hard as he glanced up at the other man. "Elton John, huh?" He asked, playfully elbowing the other man. You might want to rethink getting married then. But he wouldn't ever say that out loud.

Sebastian Smythe

When Sebastian would look back at this moment, he would curse himself for making an Elton John reference. There was just something about Blaine that was so comforting, so much so that Sebastian felt as though he could really be himself around him. It was something he hadn't felt in a very long time. "He's the piano man right?" Sebastian tried to play it off. "Oh no, that's Billy Joel. You'll make me a regular ol' Billy Joel." Sebastian laughed as he scratched the back of his head, but he couldn't take his eyes off Blaine. He was so close again, even closer than he was before and this time Sebastian didn't want to pull away or move. It was like an outside force took over his body forcing him to do what he's wanted to do since the first time he met Blaine after Glee practice that day. He leaned forward, the hand on Blaine's back moving up to cup his cheek while the other followed suit on the other side. "You have hazel specs in your eyes, did you know that?" Sebastian whispered before closing the space between them and capturing Blaine's lips with his own.

Blaine D. Anderson

Blaine's didn't quite know what to do with himself when he felt Sebastian's hand moving up his back, then his neck before both of the Switch's hands were resting on his cheeks. He stayed as still as he could, a brief look of pure affection just radiating off of him as he took in how close they were, how beautiful Sebastian was, how stunning his eyes were and how soft his hands are. The comment about his eyes had a soft smile forming on his lips, but before he could even say anything in response, Sebastian's lips were on his and his entire body tensed. A million questions raced around his head. Do I kiss back? I thought he was straight? What about Miss Frannie? Is this even right? Where do I put my hands? Should I pull back? God, this feels good. Give into urges. He found himself revisiting Max's advice several times a day now, and this situation was no different. He could deal with any consequences later. Pressing himself closer, he finally closed his eyes and moved one of his own hands up to rest at the back of Sebastian's neck, the other on his cheek as he tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss further.

Sebastian Smythe

If Sebastian was thinking straight, he would have reminded himself that this was a bad idea. Fucking around with other men was one thing, but when feelings were involved, that's when things started getting tricky. It's why he had been so wary of spending time with Blaine, why he kept him at a distance, told him he was straight and that they would only be friends. But Sebastian let himself get carried away and before he knew it, he was invested and he lost control. His head was screaming at him to stop, but he didn't listen. All he knew was that this felt right and in this moment, nothing else mattered. When Blaine returned the kiss, it was as if Sebastian couldn't get close enough. One hand dropped to his back and he tugged him impossibly close, nearly pulling the smaller man into his lap. At the turn of Blaine's head, Sebastian pressed his tongue forward so he could taste he inside of Blaine's mouth. Sebastian moaned as their tongues swirled and teeth clanked and for a fraction of a second he felt complete. He moved his hand to grip at Blaine's thigh and when he did his elbow hit the piano, resulting in a painful crash of notes that snapped Sebastian out of it and finally forced him to pull away. His heart was racing and while he wanted nothing more than to pick back up where they left off, his brain wouldn't let him. There was an internal struggle. A fight that his fear won. His situation meant he could fuck any guy he wanted, but developing real feelings for one? He couldn't do that. So Sebastian decided that this needed to stop. Right now. He stood up and without so much as a word or an explanation, walked out of the practice room. Sebastian needed to reevaluate what his purpose was and what he was doing here. He couldn't let anything interrupt that, even if there was nothing he wanted more.

Blaine D. Anderson

The kiss was absolutely intoxicating, and all Blaine could keep thinking was 'more, more, more,' his entire body seeming to go into autopilot in an effort to chase what felt right. As he was pulled closer, practically on Sebastian's lap, he moved both hands up to thread his fingers into the back of the other man's hair, offering light tugs and gentle nails on his scalp as their tongues moved and teeth clanked. His heart was pounding so hard he thought it would break right through his ribcage, and he could feel Sebastian's doing the same. The intensity and the passion behind what was occurring had him physically responding more than he could recall ever doing in any other situation. His arms were covered in goosebumps, the hair at the base of his neck was on edge, it felt like every inch of skin had been ignited. And just as he was about to take it just that much further, there was a loud crash of the piano keys that had Sebastian pulling away, Blaine left with flushed cheeks, heavy breathing and wide eyes as he tried to comprehend what had just occurred, and why. There was an awkward silence between them, and he darted his tongue out to run it over his lower lip as he withdrew and glanced down toward the piano. Shit. After a moment, he finally said, "Hey, Sebastian, we-" But he was cut off by the other man abruptly standing and turning to leave without so much as another glance or sound. "Sebastian, wait, I-" He tried to get out, but then the door to the practice room closed, and he was left with nothing but an extreme amount of regret, confusion, and maybe even a little hurt.

[wildly-lost-lantern]

Seven Point Star

A/N: Here’s chapter one! Please keep sending me feed back, it keeps me going. I know this isn’t extremely exciting, and most people don’t like to read first person... but I’m still trying to get comfortable. Thank you for the love on my prologue! Warnings will start in future chapters.

Genre: BTS soulmate au

Word count: 1,712

Chapter One: The Audition

I watched in awe as the boys walked through the bright halls of BigHit Entertainment. All seven of them are still exhausted, judging by the slight lag in the way they walked. I hugged myself gently, completely overwhelmed already. My dance audition was going to be starting soon, but I’ve been blessed to see the world’s biggest idol group. They were even more beautiful in person. I wasn’t as obsessed as other fans, but I did love the music this band put out. It’s meaningful and beautiful. I pushed the BTS sighting to the back of my mind and sighed a deep sigh. I had to focus. I need to get this choreographer job. I stepped back into the center of the room and pressed play on my phone. An obscure American hip hop song started to play through the speakers, and I watched myself in the mirrors on the wall.

“Body roll, then duh-dut-dah,” I was talking to myself to keep my self focused and reinforce the choreography in my brain. I was already breathing a little bit heavier as the song rolled into the next song I chose for choreography. The next song is a lyrical piece, one that normally made people sad. The song had been more of a break up song. The whole dance was heart breaking with the choreography. As the song wound down into the end, I stood from a butt roll and into a pose where I was walking away, my head held in my hands. After the song ended, I pressed pause on my music. I walked around taking a breath, then I grabbed my bottle of water.  I let out a deep breath I didn’t know I was holding, my anxiety starting to fill my body. I shook my hands slightly, pacing around the practice room. I went through a checklist mentally; hip hop – check, lyrical – check, freestyle – check. I was prepared for anything they could throw at me. I was ready. There was someone else who was there for the interview portion. That boosted my anxiety. Only three people will make it through the interview. I was the first one who had gotten through. However, just because I got here doesn’t – ‘STOP! You know you’re the strongest applicant. You’ve worked with idols before, other companies, and you were the top of your class Yuna!’ I had to scold myself. The position was made for me. I just had to get this audition done with. I went back to stretching to get my anxiety out. After a few minutes, I checked my phone. It was time for my dance audition. As I gathered my things, I saw the other choreographer leaving. She had tears streaming down her face. From that alone, I knew she was rejected. I took a deep breath and pushed the door to the practice room open. An employee of BigHit led me down the hall and into another room. Two men and a woman sat at a table, papers sitting in front of them. I bowed respectfully and introduced myself.

“Park Yuna. Performing arts schools up until graduating from university. Top of her class,” the woman spoke lowly to the men, obviously reading from my application. I nodded silently, waiting for instruction. “So, here’s what’s going to happen. You’ll dance a freestyle to a song of our choosing. We’ll go from there, okay?” she looked at me as if she was expecting me to ask any questions.

“Yes, ma’am,” my polite response came with a small bow. Shortly after, the man on the left pressed play on a phone connected to the speakers to the room. The soft melody poured into the room, washing over me. I knew the song, so this part was easier than I had expected. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and started to find the beat. Shortly after, I started to dance, my anxieties melting away. Butt rolls, aerial tricks, simple and complex moves all flowed through me and into a dance I could be proud of. As the song wound down, I focused on keeping my breathing even. As the people in front of me whispered amongst themselves, I refrained from fidgeting with anxiety that had come back full force. After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few minutes, the three looked back at me.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do. We have chosen two idols for you to teach your dance to. One for each genre. We know that it isn’t a long time, but you only have two hours for each. We believe you can get it done today, as you are the only dance audition we have today. We wish you luck, Miss Yuna,” the woman in the center said to me with a knowing smile. I thanked them and bowed before exiting the room.

How was I going to teach these dances in two hours?! Shortly after I got to my assigned practice room, a tall man with kind eyes walked in. My breath caught in my throat. Kim Namjoon was so much prettier in person. He held his hand out to me, and I shook it with a small bow.

“I’m Kim Namjoon. You must be Park Yuna. Nice to meet you,” his deep voice rattled me to my core. How was he so beautiful? I shook the thought out of my head. He’s just a person.

“It’s wonderful to meet you. Thank you for doing this for me. We’ll be doing a lyrical piece, so I hope you’re ready,” the laugh in my voice made him smile. This was going so much better than I had hoped. We had gotten started right away. Fifteen minute guided warm up, followed by me showing the dance to him. 

“Wow, that is really... beautiful, Miss Park,” Namjoon said as he stood up and walked to me. I muttered my thanks and looked away. He seemed to understand that I was stressing out, so he clapped his hand and said he was ready to learn it in the goofiest voice he could muster. 

I turned the song off and started to walk through the moves again. “So, for the first four counts you will be still, and the next eight you’ll walk toward me over here. Okay?” The next fifteen minutes were spent going over the first sixty-four counts of the song. Once he seemed to have it down, we played the song and danced it together. I watched him in the mirror, looking for anything I might need to fix. 

“Sorry, I’m not the best dancer,” he rubbed the back of his head, his dirty blonde hair getting slightly messy.. I shook my head and ignored the comment.

“Alright, at this point, we’ll come together. You’ll reach out with your left hand and I’ll do a turn into your arms. If it goes right I’ll end up with my back against your chest, okay?” I showed him the slight movement he’d do, and then ran the set with him. He was picking it up fairly quickly. “You’re doing great! I’m really impressed with how quickly you’re picking this up.”

Soon, the whole dance was finished, and he looked very concerned. I decided to let him grab some water. “What’s going on? You look worried,” I commented, before taking a huge drink of my water. I could feel the sweat start to drip down my back. 

“The dance is much harder than I was expecting is all. You sure know what you’re doing though,” his deep laugh came out, but it didn’t sound very genuine. I shrugged my shoulders in response, slightly embarrassed by the praise.

“Well, I’ve been doing this since I was two, I’d hope I know what I’m doing by now,” this time was my turn to laugh without it sounding real. We had about thirty minutes left until we’d be evaluated. We spent the last thirty minutes running the dance from beginning to end, polishing it where need be. After about three runs, Namjoon looked much more comfortable with the dance than before. Two more runs after that, it seemed almost flawless. I couldn’t contain my excitement any longer.

“You’re doing so great! I’m so proud of you. It’s not easy to learn a whole dance in two hours, and you just did it!” I showered him in praise, clapping my hands happily. Soon it was time for us to go show the dance. I put my phone in my pocket as I left the room, walking Namjoon to the audition room.

“Miss Park! I hope Mister Kim wasn’t too difficult to you. I’ll push play if you’d like to connect your phone to the speakers,” the woman in the center said to me as we walked in. Thanking her, I passed her my phone.

As soon as the song started, I let go of my worries. I couldn’t see myself, my back to the mirrors, but I could feel Namjoon’s hand where it was meant to be. The slow lyrics and soft melody calmed me, going through the dance with him. Before I could really feel like it was happening, the song ended. I rose from the butt roll, into a pose like I was walking away with Namjoon doing the same. I felt like crying, I was so relieved. I turned and waited further instruction from the BigHit employees. I could feel myself leaning closer to Namjoon, seeking his comfort when I had barely met him.

“Well done! I’ll have the next idol meet you in your assigned practice room in five minutes. You’re dismissed,” she said to me, looking down at the paper in front of her. I nodded, thanking them once more.

Within two hours, I had already taught Jung Hoseok the last dance, already relaxing into a roll I hadn’t been offered. The woman said she would call me within a few days with an update on my application. I gathered my things and left the building. I could only hope that things would go my way at this point.

[redgillan]

Breaking the Rules - part 3

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary:  Modern!AU You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.

Word Count:2,157

Warnings: the usual +  Mention of Cheating, Mention of Emotionally Abusive Relationship

A/N: I hope you enjoy this chapter, lovelies!

Breaking the Rules - Masterpage

You woke up with a start, unsure where you were. The distant sound of laughter filled the room and you rolled to your side, groaning. The light filtering through the curtains was bright enough to see by, but your eyes were still blurry from sleep.

“It’s barely seven!” Bucky groaned.

His head appeared just above the mattress as he sat up from the floor. He was at eye level with you and yawned widely, not bothering to cover his mouth. You buried your face into the pillow, mumbling something about morning breath.

“So this is what you look like in the morning,” he said, stretching his back. “Interesting.”

You shoved him hard as you kicked the covers off and jumped out of bed. He fell back into his sleeping bag, staring up at the ceiling with his arms crossed behind his head. You made a beeline for the window; his mother and sisters were having breakfast on the patio.

“Oh, shut up!” you snapped, your eyes shooting daggers at him. “You don’t look better. Are those dark circles under your eyes or are you turning into a panda?”

“Hey, I just said you looked interesting.” His self-satisfied smirk made your blood boil.

“Yeah? Well, you look interesting, too.” You used your fingers to make air quotation marks around the word interesting. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to take a shower. Now get up and make my bed.”

“What? No-”

“Rules #9, little panda,” you reminded him, closing the door behind you.

When you came downstairs for breakfast, there was an empty seat between Bucky and Lizzie. Mary handed you a glass of orange juice while Winnie introduced you to Rebecca.

“You can call me Becca,” she replied with a warm smile. “How long have you and Bucky been together?”

You looked thoughtful for a moment before you decided that a half truth was better than a half lie.  “We’ve been seeing each other for a year.”

“Love at first sight?” she asked.

To Bucky’s surprise and shock, you burst out laughing. He jabbed you in the ribs with his elbow, making you cry out. You recovered quickly and answered Becca’s question.

“Not really,” you sighed, preparing yourself mentally for what you were about to say. “But now, I love him so much, it physically hurts.”

You glanced at Bucky who was chewing with his mouth open, gleefully and on purpose. You drank your orange juice with a loud slurping noise that made him grit his teeth.

While the others talked about their plans for the day, Becca observed you and Bucky. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something strange going on between you and Bucky. Months ago, he had checked that he was coming with a guest, but last night, during dinner, you told them that it was a last minute thing.

She pondered the thought while they all cleared the table and washed the dishes. It pained her to see him like that; sad, distant and angry. He had been so emotionally damaged that he was now reduced to a shell of a man.

Bucky left the kitchen to return to his bedroom and found you already there, stuffing your phone into your purse. He crossed the room and flopped down on the bed, a content sigh leaving his lips.

“Going somewhere?”

“Yes, your sisters are taking me to the mall. I would have mentioned it last night, but you were too busy throwing tantrums. Mary’s excited, though. She wants to move to New York and run a fashion business.”

Bucky chuckled, his eyes closed.

“Anyway, I need your credit card.”

His eyes sprang open.

“According to the rules, you-”

“I have to buy you a dress and a pair of shoes,” he interrupted you. “Yeah, I remember.”

Without knocking, Mary burst into the room, startling you and Bucky.  There was a frown on her pretty face as she looked you over.

“What’s taking you so long? Come on! Let’s go, we only have four hours to find the perfect dress!” she nearly shouted, clapping her hands as if that would make you move faster. “I’ll wait for you in the car.”

She rushed downstairs, her feet pounding the ground. Bucky took a step towards you and reluctantly handed you his credit card. Laughing like a villain in a Disney movie, you took your purse and left the room. Bucky face-palmed himself; you were going to be the death of him.

Mary and Lizzie took you to every clothing store they knew, but you were still searching for the perfect dress. Luckily, you found the dress in a boutique you had never heard of before. The dress was red and form fitting; the perfect combination of classy and sexy.

Your eyes widened when you looked at the price tag. That beautiful designer dress was worth more than you made in three months. Teasing Bucky was fun, but you were not going to spend all his money on a dress.

You took a last good look at yourself in the mirror and tried to find flaws in your flawless dress.

“That dress looks amazing on you!”

A woman was standing behind you and you raised your gaze to meet hers in the mirror. She had long, straight red hair and sparkling green eyes. You turned around to face her.

“Red’s your color, sweetie,” she said with a kind smile.

“Thank you,” you replied, trying to sound polite and not weirded out. You weren’t used to random compliments. “But it’s too expensive.”

“The prices here are unbelievable,” the woman responded, sympathizing with you. “Still, it looks really good on you. Where did you find that dress?”

You pointed to a rack of clothes near the dressing rooms. She was about to leave when a little boy ran towards her. He hugged her long legs and she stumbled in her high heels, almost losing her balance. Chuckling softly, she ran a hand through the boy’s dark hair.

“I’m Dolores and this is my little guy, Louis.”

You told her your name and shook her hand. Louis had his mother’s eyes, as green as grass after a summer shower. His hair was a mess of chestnut curls that he most likely took after his father.

You parted ways soon after and you changed back into your clothes before you joined Mary and Lizzie who were waiting for you somewhere in the store. They were disappointed to see you come back empty-handed.

You found a pale lilac dress in a thrift shop for only twenty dollars; it was classy and cheap. Mary wasn’t thrilled, but Lizzie commented that Bucky would love the dress. You gave her a small smile. You were pretty sure Bucky wouldn’t care. You had only one goal -impress his ex-girlfriend.

As you stepped out of the mall, a hot dry breeze hit your face. The air was hot, almost suffocating and you had to remove your jacket. You sat in the front passenger seat and fastened your seatbelt while Lizzie started the car.

She drove back to her parents’ house with the windows rolled down, a warm breeze whipping through the car. After a moment of silence, you decided to ask them about Dot.

“What is she like?”

“She’s...” Lizzie drawled out, choosing her words carefully.

“She’s a manipulative bitch,” Mary replied from the backseat. “She’s always nice and polite, but there’s something evil about her.”

“Evil?” you snorted. “Seriously?”

“Dot’s a demon, but she’s engaged to the groom’s best man so she’ll be at the wedding.”

“What happened between her and Bucky?” you asked.

Lizzie looked in the rear view mirror and shared a puzzled look with her sister. “He never told you?”

“He doesn't talk about it.” It wasn’t a lie, you had never had a real conversation with Bucky.

“He really should be the one telling you this,” Lizzie said, her eyes focused on the road. “But we’ll tell you because you deserve to know.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. This was a terrible idea, you felt like you were invading his privacy.

“They met in high school and applied to the same colleges,” Lizzie began. “Bucky’s always been a straight-A student. He graduated with honors in History while Dot had to repeat her senior year. He decided to wait for her and took a job as a waiter. And since Dot lived on campus, he found a roommate to save money.

“To be honest, she practically lived with him and his roommate. She skipped classes and drank a lot while he was working his ass off. And then he received a job offer from his old high school after the history teacher retired. He rented a small studio apartment with the money he had saved up and moved in with Dot. Not long after that, she told him she was pregnant.”

“You have to understand that Bucky practically raised us,” Mary continued. “Our dad was deployed and our mom was too depressed to take care of us. Bucky prepared our meals, took us to school, did the laundry, and whatever else was necessary. He was just a kid; he’s two years older than Becca, seven years older than Liz and eleven years older than me.”

“Bucky’d always wanted to be a dad. Taking care of us must have triggered something. He was so happy when Dot got pregnant,” Lizzie recalled fondly before her smile fell from her lips. “She was four months pregnant when her obstetrician found something wrong with the child. They did some tests and... Well, Bucky couldn’t possibly be the father.

“She admitted cheating on him with his roommate, Scott. They kinda look alike, so she figured Bucky would never know. She broke up with Bucky, married Scott and divorced him ten months later. And now, Bucky lives in a big city, makes loads of money and never visits us anymore. She tore him to pieces.”

As she finished her story, Lizzie parked the car in the driveway. You followed the two sisters into the house and pondered over what Lizzie and Mary had said. Now you understood why he had freaked out the night before.

His friends were moving on and he was still haunted by his ex-girlfriend and her cruel lies. In a way, you understood his anger and lifestyle. If someone had crushed your heart and destroyed every dream you had ever had, you would probably have made some drastic changes in your life.

Every girls were potential Dots and he had to protect himself.

As soon as you walked into the kitchen, Winnie gave you two glasses of lemonade and told you to bring them to “the boys.” Bucky and Becca’s fiancé, Henry, were in the backyard, working on Becca’s car.

You left your bag in the kitchen and stepped onto the patio where you slipped off your sandals. The grass was warm under your feet as you crossed the backyard. A man you assumed was Henry took the glass you handed him.

“You’re a godsend. It’s so hot today.” He wiped his brows with the back of his hand and took a long sip of the cold drink. “We haven’t met yet. I’m Henry and I’m getting married this Sunday.”

You laughed. There was something about him that made you feel comfortable right away. He looked like a giant marshmallow.

You turned your head and saw a pair of legs clad in grease-stained jean poking out from under the car. Henry gave you a knowing smile and walked back towards the house, leaving you alone with Bucky.

He rolled out from underneath the car and almost hit his head when he saw you standing in front of him.

“You scared the shit outta me,” he grumbled as he got to his feet.

You were about to reply something when he removed his dirty white singlet and used it to wipe off his face. The words got stuck in your throat as you shamelessly ogled his half naked body. You quickly looked away when he threw his shirt on the grass.

“You okay?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. You nodded and gave him the glass of lemonade. “Thanks, I was dying.”

“You’re sweaty.”

“Well, yeah, it’s like 90 degrees.”

“You’re sweaty,” you repeated, your eyes locked on a trickle of sweat that was running between his pecs.

“Are you drunk?”

He leaned forward to smell your breath. His face was so close that you could see the smattering of freckles dotting his nose. It was barely noticeable, but it was there. Suddenly, the corners of his eyes crinkled and a laugh escaped his throat.

“Don't cross your eyes or they'll get stuck that way.”

“I wasn’t,” you responded, pushing him away.

“Yes, you were!” He stumbled back, laughing buoyantly. “It was amazing! Do it again!”

“Buttface,” you said, flipping him off as you backed away.

You walked back toward the house, Bucky’s laughter still ringing in your ears. Was that a flutter in your belly? Nope, nope, nope.

Part 4

[powerdragonmoon]

Mari!!! On Ice (Update)

credit for cover page @deusbex (thank you!)

Chapter 4: Disaster and Dancing! The GPF Free Skate! Part 1: The Warm Up!

(ao3)

Adrien sprinted, turning down a random alleyway, barely breaking a sweat as he jumped a locked chain-linked fence. The hood of his grey hoodie promptly fell back, revealing his mussed blonde hair. Landing softly on he hard concrete, he turned to see the screeching tires of his coach’s town car as it ditched the idea of chasing him down the narrow path.

Perhaps he should’ve just answered his phone.

Grinning widely, he mentally patted himself on the back for a successful foray into a small act of rebelliousness. He had snuck out of the hotel and made his way to the arena relatively undetected. Not only had he had gotten to watch the warm up, he even managed to stick around to watch a couple of the performances of the ladies’ short program.

One of those skates being from Adrien’s old – and some would say only – friend Chloe. And while it wasn’t her best skate, Adrien was happy to have been there to experience it in person and to support his friend from close by. He would have to be sure to text her some words of encouragement sometime tomorrow, once the wounds had some time to heal. Unfortunately just before Chloe had wrapped up her performance, the continued hum from his phone in his pocket alerted him that people were most likely alerted to his absence, which led him to standing outside the arena, contemplating the pros and cons to answering the incessant buzzing of his cell.

Which had led to an even more fascinating development. Standing outside, Adrien had managed to bump into his French female counterpart. He knew he recognized her the minute he grabbed her hand to help her up off the ground. She wore a familiar black jacket, one which Adrien himself had a copy of, given to him by the French Skating Federation. Of course, he himself never wore his… his father always specially made his own custom sportswear and had his outfits planned just as intricately as his schedule.

Still, the giddiness and freedom he felt in his anonymity – he had to ensure no one recognized him of course – had left him able to interact with his own peer. He had actually quietly cheered and admired her skate earlier that night. And while he couldn’t recall ever really meeting her in person – other than passing by one another throughout the years – Adrien felt a pressure to ensure he made a good first impression. Luckily for him though, she hadn’t identified him as Adrien Agreste, so he found himself behaving much more outgoing and wild from his usual reserved self.

Back to his daring escape, Adrien turned, his back grazing against the cool metal of the fence now behind him. Grinning, he whipped the pair of sunglasses he wore off his face, picturing himself as a hero in some cheesy action movie, aloofly walking away from a major explosion in the background. He stood tall in his achievement, tucking the sunglasses into his pocket and puffing his chest out, before being suddenly pulled back by his shoulder.

“Ack!” he yelped, falling back against the malleable fence wall, uncharacteristically flailing for a moment before regaining his balance. He glanced over his shoulder to see his leather jacket had gotten tangled into the wire netting of the fence. Huffing a deep breath, Adrien slipped out of his jacket, intent of getting it free.

As he delicately worked on untangling the black leather from its silver, metal trap, he felt another familiar murmur of his cellphone emanating from his jacket pocket.

Sighing, he reached forward knowing exactly who was phoning him. So far tonight, he had been quite adamant about ignoring these calls, but after almost getting run over he figured it might be for the best to try to appease the situation. He stared down at his phone screen for a moment, still hesitant, before reluctantly answering the call.

“Yes, Coach Serdtsebezski?”

“Adrien,” replied a hash, steely, Russian accented voice, “Vhere are you?”

Giving up momentarily on his jacket, Adrien reached a hand up to scratch the back of his head, “Just leaving the gym…”

He could easily picture her ice-cold glare. Having known him since he was very young, Adrien’s coach, Nataliya Serdtsebeznykh was a renowned figure skating coach. Ever professional and even more so strict, Gabriel Agreste had hired her on to coach his son after his wife’s sudden illness. But even prior to that Nataliya had always been a close family friend, so Adrien had long since been accustomed to her extremely cold demeanour that matched the unforgiving industry in which she excelled.

So it was no surprise to Adrien that she immediately seemed skeptical of his answer, easily able to see through his lies.

“The one in the hotel?” she asked.

Pausing for a moment, Adrien ran through his options. He could say he was at a gym close by… but he wouldn’t know any specifics, specifics that his Coach would for sure ask about. But if he said he was in the hotel, he would have to haul ass and get back there as soon as possible.

Clearing his throat, Adrien answered, “Yes… I, I just felt that some light cardio would be good as a cool down from practice this morning… so I just did a bit of work on the treadmill and some stretching.” Internally, he flinched, not even able to convince himself of the half-baked lie, “I’m just heading back to my room. Going to go to bed, so…”

“Is that right? I thought the gym would be close this time of night.”

“Ah, well, they kept it open… It was pretty busy…”

A pause. Adrien shifted, reaching to tug on his jacket once more. They both knew he wasn’t in the hotel.  

“Well then,” his coach continued, and Adrien let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he had been holding, “if you don’t mind, would you be able to join us at the bar for a quick run through of your program and discuss tomorrow’s skate?”

Finally getting his jacket free, Adrien juggled holding his phone to his ear, while putting his jacket back on and dancing around a response to reply with, “Ah, well… I’m pretty tired, so I was planning on going to bed.” He laughed nervously, “You know how important sleep is before a competit–”

“Adrien,” she interrupted curtly, immediately silencing his rambling, her voice even more severe and dissonant, “You’re father is here.”

Eyes wide, Adrien almost dropped his phone in shock, “I – I, whaaat– ? Father is h-here?”

Slightly exasperated, Nataliya replied, “Yes, met us down in at the bar, immediately.”

And with that the call ended.

Adrien froze, his phone in hand, staring down at the screen flashing at him that the call was indeed over, and that yes that conversation had just taken place. Whipping his head back up to look around him, Adrien immediately began to orient himself in the middle of the busy Barcelona streets, calculating the quickest way back to the hotel.

“Shit,” he muttered quietly under his breath.

And for the second time that night, Adrien found himself once again sprinting across the city intent on reaching his destination in a believable amount of time – more specifically the amount of time it would take to get from his penthouse suite in the hotel to the posh bar in the lobby.

The first time Marinette had seen Adrien Agreste skate, she knew she was watching magic.

His edgework was flawless, accented further by the deep bend in his knees that he made look breathtakingly easy, and on top of all this, his jumps were perfect – a stunning mixture of strong and powerful, while at the same time beautifully graceful. He was everything that judges looked for: high levels of difficulty, excellent grades of execution, and artistry.

Marinette, only 11 years old at the time, had just been accepted into INSEP, the National Institute of Sport. That previous spring she had started her training at the center, found in the Bois de Vincennes, just on the outskirts of Paris. She adored it. Being able to go to straight to the arena first thing in the morning – even if she had to endure waking up early and the 1-hour commute on the metro.

From dawn ‘til dusk, and even in her dreams, her time was filled with thoughts on skating. Thinking about the costumes, the choreography, the techniques, the spins, the jumps… the list was endless and ever growing. Albeit there were interludes of study sessions, but the older athletes spoke tales and wonders of getting their baccalauréat diploma as early as 15 in order to focus more time of training and competitive skating. This new world almost entirely immersed in figure skating was a dream come true.

Which had eventually led to a group field trip for Marinette and a few of the young figure skaters that winter. They, along with some selected locals were invited to be flower sweepers at the 2008 French Figure Skating Championships in Megève, and young Marinette had danced in celebration.

The job was simple, skate on the ice after each performance and collect the various bouquets and gifts that had been thrown forth from the crowd. Dressed in pretty and simple dark blue outfits, they were meant to showcase their quick and efficient skating techniques while at the same time gain the experience of being on a national stage and dealing with the atmosphere of competition.

“I’m going to go out there… skate the fastest and pick up the most plushies than anyone!” bellowed Alix, a short and spunky, pinked haired skater, who while being a year older than Marinette, still sat shorter than her. Their coaches had deemed her ideal for pairs skating, a daredevil on and off the ice, who had no problem being lifted and thrown about. However, the one deterring factor was that no partnership seemed to fit just right, and they often ended in some passive aggressive silent treatments for weeks on end. Marinette however had no problem getting along with Alix. They spent many afternoons and warm-ups racing each other in laps around the ice.

“And then, while everyone else is still picking up their first bunch of flowers,” she continued, a bright spark in her eyes, “I’m gonna do a double Salchow.”

“Alix…” piped another of Marinette’s training mates, Rose, a kind-hearted girl, the youngest of them all, “You wouldn’t want to get in trouble! Oh it would be awful if they sent you home because of that!”

“Pffffft,” Alix returned, crossing her arms and leaning back against the hard train seats, “I’d like to see ‘em try!”

At this the group broke out into giggles at Alix’s jeer. They had more than gotten accustomed to her talks of glory and astonishment, and while they knew better than to expect her to go through with said plan, together they delighted in imagining the skaters they would see in person.

“Oh!!! I’m so excited to see Brain Joubert!” Rose swooned.

“I’m excited to see the ladies programs,” Marinette added, “I bet their costumes will be divine!”

Alix, completely oblivious to the others, stared out the window, “I wonder how fast this train is going?”

It wasn’t until later the next day in the Palais des Sports Arena that Marinette stood at the boards, mouth about in awe.

They had been at the arena for almost the entire day, drinking hot chocolate and watching as the competitors warmed up. A pair of hairdressers had even stopped by to do their hair and have them ready for the ice. They cooed over Marinette’s pigtails, eventually deciding to leave them be – with the addition of hairspray and glitter of course. Rose on the other hand, with her long blonde hair, was given an elegant high bun, wrapped in a braid. She admired the handiwork in the mirror, thanking the hairdressers profusely and giggling under the shower of added glitter.

Alix however did not receive the same treatment. The hairdressers lamented over her asymmetrical haircut, and sweated in combing out all her tangles. Eventually they fashioned some sort of side bun with one side of her hair French-braided. She scowled when approached with the thought of glitter and promptly dodged any attempts – dodges that managed to askew bits and pieces of her hair before they were even on the ice!

Today’s events so fair had mostly been the Junior brackets, and it was enjoyable to watch as skaters just a little older than themselves skated across the ice, giving them hopes and glimpses into their possible futures.

At least it was enjoyable for most of them.

“This is lame…” Alix whispered as they waited for the start of the Junior Men’s Short Program, “When do we see the good stuff?”

“Oh hush, Alix!” Rose scolded half-heartedly, a small giggle escaping her pretend scowl. Because in the end, they all sort of were somewhat unimpressed, having just watched the Junior Ladies’ Short Program, knowing that soon they would easily skate just as well as most of the competitors. It made them thirsty to show off their own prowess, but instead they were assigned to skate around like babies, picking up various gifts thrown on the ice, basically invisible as all eyes stayed glued onto the performers.  

But the day changed for Marinette once her eyes locked on to his.

It wasn’t until he gotten a few seconds into his short program that Marinette had really noticed him. Prior to that, he was just another skater. He was dressed simply and elegantly. Perfectly tailored black dress pants with a simple white button-up shirt, rolled up to his elbows, a peek of a black t-shirt underneath and matching black suspenders running up his torso and over his shoulders. Nothing entirely groundbreaking or eye-catching but nevertheless he looked very well put together.

His music was classical, a generic choice, but something about it in combination to his skating made her think of springtime. Perhaps it was the brightness of his blonde hair, or the verdant richness of his beautiful green eyes that reminded her of rain-soaked grass and twining vines – details that she couldn’t help but catch as he passed by, so close and so fast. His eyes looked into the crowd as his circled the rink’s boundaries, picking up speed.

Of course he wasn’t looking at her directly, but in her memories she liked to think he spotted her, picked her out from the crowd. He moved with a grace that kept the arena silent in awe. His footwork perfectly timed and matching with the rushing, complex melody of his program. He looked charmingly young and spirited even though his moments on the ice showed maturity and mastery of the sport. The choreography of his skating was made to look easy and lovely, despite the fact that Marinette could see the perfection of his technique and the difficultly inherent in his subtle movements.

And when he jumped.

He flew.

Over the applause of the crowd, Marinette could vaguely hear her friends next to her.

“Wow,” gapped Rose, eyes wide.

“Who…?” asked Alix.

Mariette, sitting in between the two, was barely able to register their gasps, let alone her own. Instead she watched as the boy landed his triple-triple combination jump flawlessly, stretching out his free leg behind him, his face breaking into a triumphant smile.

And in that smile, Marinette felt the summer sun.

The feeling was fleeting, but it reminded her of something – something she had no words in her young vocabulary to describe. It was as if she was back home in Paris at the rink she visited almost every day, sitting under the heaters awaiting her turn on the ice, or the feeling of biting into a fresh pastry still warm and fresh from the oven in her parents’ bakery.

He continued on, lunging into a layback Ina Bauer. His feet stretched across the ice in an extended fourth position, emphasizing the outside edge of his skates. As he exited the move, he swung his arms back, lifting a leg off the ice behind him. And in one smooth movement, he leapt up into the air, using the moment of his limbs to swing into a tight spinning position.

And again he easily landed another component: a triple Axel.

His smile was much more subdued in that landing. An innocent one-sided grin as if he was not surprised to have landed such a difficult element.

The ephemeral familiarity Marinette had felt stretched on; her eyes were transfixed on his performance, unaware of the deep blush upon her cheeks.

“Who the hell is that?!” asked Alix.

Her question went unanswered. None of them had been listening when the boy had come on the ice, and now they were much to invested in watching him complete his program.

As he came to a final stop, holding his final pose for a few counts, Alix’s query was finally answered.

“From Paris, Adrien Agreste,” blared the arena speakers.

From Paris?! Marinette thought, slightly stunned, unaware of the bustling and movement around her. Everyone was moving towards the boards ready to be unleashed onto the ice.

She was however, quickly reminded of her job, as one of the supervisors whisper-yelled, “Allez! Go, go!!! Vite! Fast now, children!”

The doors to the ice were opened and quickly they spread out along the ice, racing to collect bouquets, flowers, cards, and toys being thrown from the audience.

Marinette, still a bit dazed, dawdled behind her counterparts, most of who zoomed forth to the farthest reaches of the ice. This left Marinette, gliding slowly along the ice’s perimeter, idly grabbing for objects around her, her eyes mostly focusing on the boy at center ice. His blonde hair fluttered as he bowed to the crowd, before springing perfectly back into its stylized place. Smiling widely, he waved humbly, before turning and skating towards the doors… towards Marinette.

Jumping slightly and tangled in nerves, Marinette tried to finally focus on her task in favour of attracting any attention from the skilled skater in front of her. He glided slowly, hands on his hips as he took several deep breaths, staring down at the ice below him.

Marinette suddenly determined, caught a clash of black fluff against the ice, moving forward and stretching down, she grabbed the soft plush, smiling at the little green-eyed animal in her hands.

Turning slightly, she reached for another nearby gift, a delicate bundle of red roses, wrapped in plastic. Just as she bent down to scooped up the blossoms, her eyes caught on to the close proximity she held to the skater, Adrien.

Instinctively she flinched in shock, even though she was nowhere close to being in danger of colliding with him. His nearness, however, seemed to put her on edge, causing for her to momentarily lose balance. Floundering, she overcompensated her backwards momentum, leaning much too forward, to quickly, still intent on retrieving the red roses.

And that is how Marinette made her debut on the national stage – albeit not as a competitor but as a volunteer – by tripping right in front France’s rising ingénue, skating prodigy, Adrien Agreste.

Looking back on it now, Marinette had one silver lining to the situation. Thank God Chloe had not been witness to her humiliation. If the blonde bully had indeed known or been present, it was without a doubt that Marinette would still be dealing with the occasional jeer and pestering at her own expense.

Still, this thought was not something 11-year old Marinette was privy to, so it did not to quell Marinette’s utter mortification. She tried her best to recover quickly, refusing to look up and catch the eyes of those laughing at her or staring at her with pity. No, no, no, she wished for nothing more than to believe this had never happened, and the avoidance of any reaction from those around her seemed like a sure bet to keep her in the waters of denial for a moment longer.

Stubbornly focusing on the ice, she reached out for the fallen roses; quickly grabbing the black cat plush she had dropped, collecting the gifts with haste. Eventually she ran out of items to gather, leaving her to finally compose herself, to rise up with grace and shake off the embarrassment. She huffed a heavy breath, preparing herself.

She looked up.

Oh…

The flash of green caught her immediately.

Oh no.

Her heart fluttered, no longer in her control. As Adrien Agreste, eyes wide with concern closed the short distance between them, coming to a smooth stop in front of her. Internally Marinette screamed. Externally her eyes glazed slightly, obscuring her vision. She blinked, determined to keep the embarrassed tears from falling down her face.

Adrien’s face seemed to soften kindly as he bent down, reaching a hand out towards her.

Staring up at him, Marinette fought her frown, fought her watering eyes, and tried and failed to fight back the sudden onslaught of blush across her freckled cheeks.

Her gaze flickered back and forth from his outstretched hand to his green, green eyes, oddly confused as to what to do – suddenly shy and stunned.

In reaction, she jerked her arms forward, offering the boy his gifts. She placed the bundle of roses into his offered hard.

He stared at her puzzled in silence, looking down at the roses, a smile growing upon his face.

And he laughed.

Her immediate instinct told her that he was laughing at her expense, clearly appalled at her behaviour. How could such a poor skater have been chosen to skate in front of greatness?

The thought alone had her imagination running, telling her to become a hermit, to travel the world, a desolate vagabond, seeking refuge in any land that wouldn’t instantly banish her, recognizing her as the flower sweeper girl at the 2008 French National Championships… You think you can hide your face here? They would say, jeering her unforgivingly –

However as she stared back into his dazzling eyes, crinkled in delight, she realized he was not laughing at her, but just perhaps the situation: a little girl down on one knee offering him flowers.

She smiled up at him nervously, her mouth twitching slightly, before she too broke out into giggles.

Adrien smiled, this hand wrapping around the roses, taking them from Marinette. He transferred them to his left hand and again reached out towards her.

“Hello,” he smiled brightly.

“I’m sorry!” Marinette impulsively replied.

His brow furrowed, his lips pursed, “No – That’s, that’s okay. Are you alright?”

She nodded.

He smiled again, “Oh good, can I help you up?”

“Oh!” she blushed, “Oh, I – Um, yes, of course.” She took his hand and he easily helped her back up to standing, him holding the red roses, her holding a fluffy black cat plush.

“T-thank you,” she said.

He bowed dramatically, letting go of her hand before standing back up straight. “It was no problem, little lady.”

“Adrien!” someone called from the boards.

He looked away from her, both of them brought back to reality. But before he skated away, he turned back to her. He reached into the bundle of flowers, plucking a single thorn-less rose out from the bunch. Smiling wide, he offered it to her.

“Here,” he smiled, “For you.”

Glancing up at him, her vision swept back and forth between his emerald eyes and the beautiful red petals, until finally she tentatively reached up, fingers bumping his as her transferred the single red rose into her hand.

She looked up to he his retreating back, walking off the ice into the arms of his coaches. As she watched him go, she twirled the rose in her hands. He didn’t turn back to give Marinette another view of his lovely green eyes or another glance at his winning smile. She sighed, looking down at the pretty rose in her hands.

And in doing so she missed Adrien as he glanced over his shoulder. Smiling, he looked back at the girl on the ice, thinking in wonder that he had just made a friend.  

Marinette padded along her section of the room, thick heavy socks on her feet as she stared around the warm-up room. Her soft woolen socks did little to muffle the nervous shuffling of her feet. All around, her competition had gathered, everyone preparing for the free skate. On the TV on the wall played out the ice dancing free dance, showing couples twirling and gliding gracefully across the ice. Staring around the rest of the room, Marinette watched as most of the other girls stretched out, wearing headphones to cancel out any distractions.

Dressed in plentiful layers overtop her free skate performance dress, Marinette closed her eyes, running through her program in her mind for the 100th time. In her head she could hear the music and she easily raised her arms at the right musical beats and even bouncing in time to practise her jumps. As she mapped out her skate, imagining herself on the ice. However, even with all the practise and preparation, she couldn’t help but shake the sinking heaviness in her bones, the cold sweat breaking on her skin, and even more distracting, the feeling of eyes on her.

Uneasy and uncomfortable, Marinette stopped her practise to look out across the room. Almost instantly she met the angry glare of Chloe. The blonde skater sat on the ground, on the opposite side of the room, her legs stretched out into a side spit.

Clad in her white and gold dress, Chloe was staring daggers in Marinette’s direction. Her platinum hair had been precisely pulled back into a high ponytail that flowed down her back, swishing from side to side as Chloe shook her head at Marinette, her arms crossed over her chest.

In response Marinette raised her eyebrows in question. What on earth was her problem?

Loudly, Chloe clucked her tongue, before proceeding to loudly chew on a piece of gum. Her eyes still locked on to Marinette as she blew a bubble.

Pop!

Blinking in astonishment, Marinette turned around, determined to not let Chloe get to her. In doing so, she almost smacked into a girl about her own age. She stood a bit shorter than Marinette, her bright orange-red hair but into a chin-length bob and held away from her face with a simple white headband. Her outfit was demure and almost business like, an argyle sweater over a white collared shirt and simple black dress pants. On her face she wore thick tortoise shell glasses, completing her outfit, giving her an air of intelligence.

“Oh! Sorry!” the girl peeped, a high pitch voice and a sympathetic smile as she walked around Marinette, mirroring Marinette’s own gasped apology.

Together the two girls shared a quick smile before Marinette was again reminded of her original goal by another loud pop from behind her. Trying her best to ignore the sound, Marinette took out her phone from her jacket pocket. In her distraction she failed to notice another shared look in the room as the redheaded girl continued on her way out of the room. As the girl walked past Chloe she gave a small and firm nod of her head, to which Chloe smiled conspiratorially. Oblivious to such an inconspicuous action, Marinette unlocked her phone, refreshing the news page link that Alya had sent her the night before. On the screen she smiled looking at and reaffirming her placement after the short program.

3 – Marinette Dupain-Cheng (FRA)

She hadn’t been dreaming. She was in definite medal contention, and at the Grand Prix Finals! She bit back a smile, her body vibrating, either with nerves or happiness, or some sick mixture of both.

And just below her name on the standings:

4 – Chloe Bourgeois (USA)

As bad as it sounded, this made Marinette smile grow even more. But this was a competition, and Chloe had made it perfectly clear throughout their years together that they were not friends, so Marinette did feel some satisfaction and validation in knowing that she had outskated her rival in the short program.

Not only that but Marinette actually had a realistic chance in placing on the podium today. Her first Grand Prix Final – and a medal within her grasp!

From behind her, Marinette could still hear the crude sound of gum smacking. She reached down into her bag nearby, finally deciding to follow the example of the other skaters with their earphones on. And so Marinette put her own pair on, playing her free skate music from her phone and closing her eyes once more to gain her concentration. She continued visualizing her skate, stretching out her limbs and jogging on the spot to keep herself warm until her breathing became shallower and shallower. Whether it was due to nerves or exertion, she couldn’t say, although deep, deep down she could feel the growing weight and pressure set upon her.

Eventually it got to the point where she needed to get her skates on, so Marinette sat down and began to lace up her skates. Soon the skaters would be given their stipulated warm-up time on the ice and then the free skate would begin. The order of skaters was determined by the ranking from the short program the night before. Chloe, being in 4th place currently, was to skate 2nd, followed by Marinette.

Humming along to the sounds of her music, Marinette pulled and tighten her skate laces, delicately and patiently going through the process she had done countless times before. The activity helped to settle some of the unease she was feeling. Simply focusing on the pressure to her feet over the pressure on her shoulder. She flexed her feet and ensured her tying was secure, before standing back up staring down at her skates in their bright pink skate guards with a smile – one that faltered as she was reminded of the stakes at hand.

Looking back at her phone to check the time, she noticed a short text from Alya wishing her luck. She smiled, sending her back a few happy emojis. After another few moments of stretching out and walking on the spot, Marinette collected herself and made her way into the hallway, deciding to get a feel for her blades in a brisk walk before eventually making her way to the ice. She knew where she could find Cheryl so she could pass over her bag to her and receive the time-honoured pep talk. Until then in her hand she was picturing herself on ice, remembering each jumping pass and imagining her landing every single one perfectly. It will be fine, she chanting over and over in her head.

“Watch your edge on your Lutz,” said Cheryl.

It will be fine, Marinette breathed, her throat running dry and constricting.

“Try a couple for your warm up, and don’t worry, just focus on getting used to the ice.” Cheryl continued, “Don’t push yourself.”

Marinette nodded. I can do this. I can do this, she affirmed made her way towards the rink.

It will be fine.

Right?

It was not fine. Nothing was fine.

She stood at center ice, hands shaking, her chest heaving already, as desperately tried her best to hold her starting position. But nothing felt right, her face small smile that was suppose to give off an air of serenity, felt forced and unfamiliar. And worst of all she could fell it. She felt everyone’s eyes on her as she stood there, tiny and cold on the ice. The judges, the audience, her coaches, Chloe Bourgeois and…

Adrien Agreste.

He was here and everything was wrong, it was awful. And she couldn’t spot him out from the sea of people. It made it almost worse, because Marinette knew – she just knew – that out there the great Adrien Agreste was out there watching her skate.

And she was angry.

Just before the group warm-up all but 20 minutes prior, Marinette had stood, nervously waiting alongside the other skaters for their ice time. Just a little ways down the boards from her, the two Russian competitors stretched out, totally in their own world. The other skaters, the two Japanese skaters, cheerfully stood by, talking to each other and holding each other’s hands. Still wearing her gloves and jacket, Marinette smiled softly in their direction as she fiddled with her hands, trying to keep her mind relaxed. She took off her gloves, bundling them into a makeshift stress ball, focusing on her program and trying not to look up into the stands and the audience’s expectant stares.

The moment was interrupted suddenly by a loud, dissonant laugh from behind her.

Chloe.

Marinette sighed in annoyance, stuffing her balled up gloved into her jacket pocket, about ready to tell Chloe off for being so loud when everyone was trying to focus. But just as the thought crossed her mind, she reminded herself that doing so probably would most likely do no good. Chloe did what Chloe wanted, and she almost always got her way. It would only serve as another distraction, one that Marinette could not afford to stack onto her worried and chaotic state of mind.

Finally the announcements began, introducing the event and alerting the skaters that it was time. The group gathered near the entranceway on to the ice, each girl reaching for their blade guards with their respective coaches hovering nearby.

Marinette reached down to remove her bright pink guards from her skates. As she removed them, something suddenly felt wrong, a weird and gross tacky-ness that made one of her guards more difficult to take off.

Looking down at her left skate she noticed a string of some sort of plaster or resin coming off her skate blade. Puzzled she reached down, seeing the source of it had been caked into the groves of her guard.

As her hands came into contact with the gunk, a chilling jolt of realization ran through her –

It was gum.

Panicking slightly, and ignoring the peals of laughter from behind her, Marinette wiped her hands instinctively on her jacket. Gross, gross, gross, she thought as she turned to Cheryl, eyes wide.

“Do you have any tissues?!?” she asked.

Cheryl immediately handed her some from her bag, with a look of sympathy, “Oh Marinette what happened?”

“I – I don’t know,” she answered, having taken a few tissues from her coach and working on cleaning off her skate blade, “There’s – just, um – there’s g-gum on my blade!”

As she continued to clean off her blades the boards were opened, inviting the skaters onto the slick surface, accompanied by the announcer introducing the skaters.

The other skaters began to make their ways onto the ice, leaving Marinette behind as she worked to clean off her skate. The tissues were able to remove most of the gum, but remnants of it still remained coating the edges of her skate. She tried to scrape off as much as she could, but even then the tissues just ended up sticking to the surface making chunks of tissue-gum.

“That’s good enough for now, honey,” Cheryl patted her shoulder, “You just go out and do your warm-up, we can clean it up after.”

Marinette nodded, carefully handing Cheryl her skate guards and used tissues as she turned to the ice.

As Marinette placed a skate on the ice, testing the effect of the gum on her skate, a voice spoke out from behind her.

It was Chloe again with a disgustingly saccharine and overly flirty giggle that had Marinette internally gagging.

“Thanks again for the gum, Adrikins!” Chloe exclaimed loudly, “You’re the greatest!”

No… Marinette thought. Thinking back on Chloe’s continued cold treatment towards her today and her annoyingly loud gum chewing. No way would Chloe sink that low, would she?

Turning around with a frown Marinette looked up at her training mate with an angry frown.

But before she was able to form any sort of response to the situation, Marinette’s eyes caught on the figure standing beside Chloe.

Adrien Agreste.

Adrien Agreste.

He was standing right next to Chloe, with an adorable, yet confused look on his face. He was dressed in Gabriel designer sportswear, the signature “G” in a circle imprinted over his chest.

Also standing next to Chloe was the redheaded girl from earlier. Her arms were crossed and she was snickering, joining Chloe in her ridiculing behaviour.

“Really Adrien, I’m so glad you could make it! It so nice to have you here to support us in this sticky situation.” Chloe continued, waving a hand in Marinette’s direction, a smug smile on her face as she looked at Marinette, eyebrows raised with a challenge in her eye.

Marinette took a few seconds to absorb the situation. Fighting back the immediate reaction to blush at Adrien’s presence, the pieces of the puzzle seemed to land into place before her.

“Oh…” she said meekly, looking down at her skate, “I get it…”

It was some sort of sick prank, wasn’t it? Her anger seemed to melt into just plain sadness, the harsh furrow in her brow fading into disappointment and defeat. How inappropriate and ill timed… or was it some sort of sabotage at Marinette’s expense? How could Chloe do this?

Adrien stood there not really sure what was happening.

“I – what?” he looked from Marinette to Chloe, not understanding.

“Yeah… I get it, very funny…” Marinette continued, sarcasm dripping off every word, masking her utter embarrassment and humiliation.

Chloe and the redhead jeered.

”No – no! I – “ he tried to reply, most likely with an excuse, but Marinette didn’t wait to hear it. Huffing, she turned; pushing herself away from the conversation, now was not the time. She needed to focus.

She glided across the ice, feeling a little bump from the bits of gum still left on her left skate blade. Circling around the ice, trying to get a feel for it, Marinette tried to empty her mind of the whole mess that had just occurred.

Don’t focus on it, Marinette, she told herself. She twirled here and there, switching from forwards to backwards skating, pushing into the ice and testing its surface.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Chloe also nearby, flawlessly landing a triple flip.

Shaking her head to try to escape her worries, Marinette practiced a spin, going into a layback position and trying to find a steady point to focus on.

As her head tilted back in the spin she caught a glance of Adrien Agreste watching from the boards.

Faltering out of her spin, Marinette pushed on, trying not to let them get the better of her. This was a mind game, and she would show them that she could win.