#also the 'performance' onstage at the end? she seems so confident and comfortable in that outfit and in her own body

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

i truly cannot believe that i didn’t learn there was a music video for bejeweled until more than a week after the album came out and even then it wasn’t because of a youtube rec or my dash (@jicklet is a hero for bringing me the news instead) because HI LAURA DERN IS THERE in the most bonkers bridgerton-vibes cinderella intro and the elevator has 13 floors and basically the whole video is just a giant glitter bomb it is amazing

[shakingparadigm]

Everyone is all about how Ivan and Luka are similar but I think of all the alien stage contestants it’s round 2 till that is most similar to round 5 luka. They both used the stage to liberate themselves from their abusers even if it meant completely and mercilessly destroying their opponents in their process. They even both are delighted in the actions they took (till smiling at the end of his round even as the guards push him down to beat him and luka smiling even as mizi beats him). We’ve even seen an extra where till looks down on other pet-humans and this is also similar to luka

This is SUCH an interesting observation. I've drawn a few parallels between Luka and Till before, but their onstage power trips didn't register to me due to how different they were in motivation and execution. The main idea is definitely the same, though. They dominate the stage in a way that strikes fear into the hearts of the opponent. Once the song starts up, the other party knows they don't even stand a chance.

We know that Till has a competitive streak as shown in the YouTube short, but it's something that flares up during certain moments and isn't consistent. It's already been established that Till couldn't care less about the show in the long run, the only reason he continues on is for Mizi. Once she left the competition, he completely lost spirit. It is important to note how aggressive he is when competitive, though.

"Weak human pets"... Till in this clip shares the same confidence as Luka, who is completely sure that he can win over any opponent.

Their difference lies in the intent. In a post that explains the making of ROUND 2, VIVINOS states that Till is normally shy and timid, but it's his love for Mizi that makes him strong. He's aggressive on this stage because he has a message to send to her, and he overpowers his opponent because he can't afford to be interrupted, to lose her attention. I believe it was the Anakt Kit that stated Till was prone to getting carried away in the heat of a performance. Bashing open Freddie seemed like a last-ditch effort to get Mizi to look at him, which is why he was so happy at the end. Because she finally did. Sure, he was liberated on that stage, but he wasn't truly chasing that feeling of control in the same way Luka is. Despite all the abuse, Till fiercely held onto his own autonomy and fought back whenever he could.

Luka, on the other hand, has almost no part of himself that remains his own. He toys with his prey on stage in order to gain that feeling of control he so lacks in life. Unlike Till, who dominates through sheer aggression and intensity, Luka rules the stage in a manner that's calm and collected. Not only is his play calculated, it's consistent. A role he falls into easily, comfortably, and often. He overwhelms the opponent because it gives him a sense of power, he views lowly of other humans because not only was he raised differently, he was quite literally built differently. It's all he knows how to do.

Till performs for Mizi and Luka performs for control. Although their motivations are different, both have proven themselves capable of taking the stage and providing a fierce competition. This is extra exciting if we think about how Till might burst back to life in ROUND 7. Luka might actually meet his match, and we might witness the most intense round in ALNST, with both competitors trying desperately to override each other.

[finalthreshold]

phantom of the opera 1/27 notes that got a bit out of hand.

i tried to keep these short and failed utterly and completely. i just kept having more thoughts about it! trio was paul a schaefer phantom, emilie kouatchou christine and bronson norris murphy raoul, and my thoughts on this performance are mainly centered on them

act i

i'd heard both meh things about paul's phantom and great things about bronson's raoul so i went in with my r/c cap on and was prepared to just... not care as much about the phantom this time? i was braced for disappointment with him.

and then... i was NOT disappointed? i really enjoyed his phantom! he really was giving wet cat energy. and i love wet cats.

i found it a super e/c - r/c balanced show imo? one of the most balanced shows i've seen lately. both were compelling dynamics. emilie had great chemistry with both of them and her christine felt like she had real reasons to care for them both.

bronson's raoul is adorable. he's effortlessly confident, in the sort of natural self-assuredness of a rich guy, but he's so well meaning. little lotte was lovely. a little awkward at first as he began that segued into a sense of familiarity. it really felt like a reunion between two childhood sweethearts who aren't certain at first because it's been so long but quickly find themselves back to their old levels of comfort

paul's phantom had some nice gestures. there was a little bit of the thing where he seemed to lose track of his hands (it happens a lot with his raoul) but it happened infrequently, and it didn't feel as unintentional as it does with his raoul? it felt more like his phantom getting caught up in the moment, like he'd imagined this before and thought he was prepare but now that he's actually here with christine he finds himself at risk of getting overwhelmed by the reality of it? it didn't take me out of the moment when it happened and he overall had nice gestures and felt consistently intentional in his movements, both in how he walked around and his gestures.

he tried to catch her when he fainted! he ran to her with such a look of genuine concern and then was very sweet about putting the cape over her. and he brushed a stray curl away from her face after he did that it was sooooo tender. crying.

he was like, crying by the end of stdyi. such a sad, pitiful little "oh, christine." wet cat! wet cat! he also had a really great crawl towards her, it was so sudden and genuinely disconcerting and the desperation and pitifulness were so palpable.

bronson's raoul was having a great time during il muto. you really feel his adoration for christine, and even though she's got a silent role she seemed like she was really having fun as the page boy! god they were so adorable

oh my god nehal joshi is always funny when he brings forward the ballet but he was extra good tonight. as he ran onstage he was saying "dont make me do this" which i've never heard before? someone please help andre he's going through it.

ALL I ASK OF YOU WAS SO SWEET I THINK I HAVE CAVITIES. like i said i went into this show prepared for some good r/c and i was not disappointed whatsoever! he doesn't come across as dismissive of her at all, and why have you brought me here felt more like "i know you're scared but i don't understand and i don't know how to help me, so help me make this make sense so i can help you." it was really good.

THEIR KISS. AAAAAH. he was soo gentle and sweet and then she grabbed his face and pulled him down for a bigger kiss and oh it was adorable. it was such a wonderful aiaoy

AND A VERY SAD AIAOY REPRISE he was crying up there on his angel! he was so pitiable. wet cat in a cardboard box energy.

act 2

i noticed one of the ensemble characters trying to swipe a champagne glass but the tray was empty by that point and the server pulled the tray away almost disdainfully which was a funny little moment, but i was in rear mezz and wasnt using my binoculars at the time so i couldn't recognize who in the ensemble it was

emilie's twisted every way is so good. i feel like it's just so believable that she could be so truly terrified and lost and also not want to betray him or want him dead despite everything. emilie's christine has so much inner turmoil and it makes me feel so much every time.

raoul, your plan is bad but bronson's raoul is so likable and well meaning it's fine.

emilie's wishing was fantastic again (as always!). i love how she'll almost smile a little bit when she's thinking about her father. it's so bittersweet and fond and it makes the song even more painful to me?

she gave this little resolute smile as she was about to leave and seemed like she was at peace and then when she heard the phantom during wandering child her expression was so... longing but sort of crumpled at the same time like, despite everything she still wants to believe but on a logical level she knows she can't. it hurts :(

i was surprised at how still he was in ponr. there wasn't really any self-caressing when she's singing, like. at all?? that surprised me.

phantom.exe has stopped working. he seemed to get more and more tense during her verse, like he didn't know how to react.

idk. new ponr blocking., gestures vaguely. ponr blocking. yknow. shrugs. i never know what to say about ponr.

she smiled a little bit when she pulled his hood off, which was a sharp contrast to the day before where she almost gasped and looked shocked or horrified at seeing ben's phantom? i was trying not to compare phantoms too much but i saw ben twice in a row so it's sometimes easiest to just compare them especially when things are very different.

he was really sad and pleading when he proposed and she looked so shocked? iirc she shook her head a little at him. she looked very sad and a bit deer-in-headlights.

even in the final lair, he wasn't a particularly violent phantom. like i said, i'd just seen ben twice in a row and was used to his very rough way of putting the veil on her and giving her the bouquet, so maybe it was just the contrast between them haha but he was rather careful about adjusting her veil and smoothed out the ribbon of the bouquet before handing it to her and seemed genuinely surprised when she ripped it out of his hands angrily. (what... did u expect??)

paul's phantom was desperate in the sense of a dying man that is desperate for a salvation he knows deep down he won't get. like he needed to believe he could have christine's love, but at his core he also believed he never could have that, that all he could ever have was the darkness and his monstrosity, and he tries to tell himself that he chooses the darkness.

i think there came to be a certain sense of resignation to his phantom during final lair, where as christine gets increasingly more and more angry and upset with him he begins to realize that no matter what he wasn't going to win either, even if she did choose to save raoul by marrying him.

it felt to me like partway through the final lair it slowly began to dawn on paul's phantom that the reason he ever couldn't be happy now was because his actions had gone too far and the things he'd done had made her hate him more than his face ever could, and he doesn't want to do this anymore but he also can't do anything else. he can't just give up though, because he's come too far and what else can he do at this point but play this to the end?

the way she looked at him in "angel of music, you deceived me" she was so hurt but she also was... daring? there was such an intensity to her gaze.

his "you try my patience" was really good. it was so low, and measured and there was this extended pause between that and his "make your choice." it was both scary and simultaneously gave a feeling that he was on the verge of breaking before she even kissed him.

i also feel like... emilie's christine doesn't have this sudden revelation about him during that part. she doesn't realize all of a sudden that his life sucks because she's already known and she's already felt pity for him.

it's more like she's seen all of these different sides to him all along and never could fully understand him or have a full view of him until now? like she was conflicted because she saw both the angel and phantom sides of him, the monster and the man and wasn't ever certain which one was "real" and feared the monster but felt sympathy for the man and was at war within herself bc of these feelings.

and now she's able to see him all completely, and she doesn't just understand him in that moment but also understands her own feelings towards him and make a certain peace with those feelings. it's a moment i really love in emilie's christine.

bronson be making noises in that noose

THREE I LOVE YOUS AT THE RING RETURN

she tried to say something in return but said "i-i" and then got choked with sobs and the rest wasnt coherent but hmmmmm.

there was such a heartbreaking feeling of finality to his repeated i love yous though? he said "i love you" so mournfully after she left, and it wasn't an i love you she was meant to hear, i feel? his third i love you was when he went to pick up the veil, which he held to his face, and he stumbled on it, a choked, almost-sob "i-i love you" into the veil. i was not emotionally prepared for that let me tell you.

he gave one last long lingering look to the direction christine left before he went to the chair and it just felt so final when he did.

this is a phantom that dies at the end and he knows he's gonna die when he gets in that chair. when he says it's over now he really really means it.

this show was so good. it was my last time seeing it on broadway before it closes and it was so. so good. such a good way to say goodbye to this show it felt so final and bittersweet

[stylesnews]

“Feeling good in my skin/ I just keep on dancing,” Harry Styles sings in his latest single, “Treat People With Kindness.” And in the song’s exuberant music video -- which has garnered 17 million YouTube views and counting since its debut on New Year’s Day -- he does just that: Wearing a sequined jacket and bow tie, he chassés, spins and flutters jazz hands like an MGM musical star (with a little help from his equally debonair partner, Fleabag’s Phoebe Waller-Bridge).

Styles shot the video in early 2019 after several weeks of training with choreographer Paul Roberts, a collaborator since his One Direction days. “I think somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this could be something special,” says Roberts, a veteran stage director and choreographer who’s worked on videos and tours for the likes of Sam Smith, Katy Perry, Diana Ross, and the Spice Girls (their Spiceworld stadium tour).

Watching the explosive fan reaction to Styles’s little known dance talents -- including from the Spice Girls, who've “sent lovely messages" about the video -- Roberts says it seems like "Treat People With Kindness" arrived at the precise right moment. “Most people’s comments are, ‘I’ve not felt that happy for three and a half minutes in a long time,’ or ‘I smiled from ear to ear the whole way through.’ It’s a positive light.”

He spoke to Billboard about Styles’ intensive training process -- and why he wouldn’t be surprised to see him dancing onstage again.

There’s been one pretty overwhelming reaction to this video: “This is the guy who was in the group that insisted they couldn’t dance?!” Did you expect this kind of reaction to Harry dancing? I’ve been with Harry for 10 years: I was with the One Direction boys from the beginning the whole way through their career before they took the hiatus, and they always made a very conscious decision that they didn’t want choreography as part of their brand -- but they did want a kind of disheveled organization in order to allow the cameras and the lighting to stand a chance in terms of presenting them in the best manner possible.

What was very evident to me was that all five of them, and then it obviously became four, they’ve all got their own magic. The only time I’ve experienced that was when I worked with the Spice Girls. I always knew that they had special skills aside from what they were in One Direction, whether it was movement, songwriting, being able to handle the business side of things. For such young lads they were very astute and very decisive.  So, getting together with Harry -- he’s a bit of an alchemist, is Harry. Everything he turns his hand to turns to gold. Where did the initial dance-centric concept come from? Harry and the directors, Ben and Gabe [Turner], sent me a video link to the Nicholas Brothers scene from Stormy Weather and Harry asked me, "How long do you think it would take to dance like this?" I was like, "OK, are you being serious?" "Yeah, I’m being serious."

That is probably one of the most standout dance sequences ever captured on film -- so I knew we were aiming high. I said, "Why don’t we go into a studio and let’s workshop some choreography, some moves, some short sequences, and see what your ability is, see how we can tailor this to make you look the best you can possibly look." Obviously it would take some investment in terms of rehearsal and commitment, I told him it would be mentally and physically exhausting, but I thought, "My God yeah, let’s do it; this will be an adventure."

How long did the whole process take? We started in mid-January 2019, and we rehearsed and workshopped for about four to five weeks before the shoot, every day. Both Harry and Phoebe had other things going on, so, for instance, Phoebe was working on the new Bond movie in Canada, so I sent my assistant to Canada to work with her. I stayed in the U.K. with Harry, and then we went to L.A. where Harry shot two more videos, for “Watermelon Sugar” and “Falling.”

At the end of the “Watermelon Sugar” shoot, he wrapped, got in his car, came to the dance studio and we rehearsed into the night. Knowing how short a time you sometimes get with artists even for really big performances, I thought the rehearsals would dilute and we’d lose momentum, but both Phoebe and Harry were so committed.

What was the process in the studio like with Harry? We didn’t even use his [vocal] track to begin with -- we used different big band songs, some contemporary alternative music. It was just about finding his [movement] language first and foremost.  Then we developed the choreography and sent it to the directors, who gave us feedback. We enhanced the work a bit more, and then once we had some really solid sequences, Ben and Gabe storyboarded the scenes against the timeline of the music.

At this point Harry and Phoebe were still working separately, and then we joined forces in London, where we really started to refine these sequences of choreography we’d developed, trying to find the finesse and the style, almost making sense of the movement for them so they felt they had a dancer’s way of working the movement through the body. You’ve worked with a wide variety of artists, many of whom aren’t dancers first. How do you find, as you put it, the “language” of movement that makes sense for each of them as individuals?

I think the general answer is really communicating -- listening and understanding what the artist’s desire is. And also collaborating, so you don’t get too lost in yourself as a choreographer. What looks good on you might not transcend to the artist, or even necessarily the dancers.

With Harry, what was important within the language of the choreography was that it felt joyful and had personality. Him and Phoebe, with the work she’s done with Fleabag, you associate them and what they do with a sense of style, a real confidence, but at the heart of it it’s entertainment. And with the amount of time and budget we had, which was such a luxury in this day and age, we wanted to do something that pushed both of them out of their comfort zones. We tried to make it as athletic as possible but without compromising them as artists and becoming too comedic. We wanted it to be a bit quaint and cute in places, but we definitely didn’t want it to be thought of as nonsensical or silly.

Harry’s movement in the video is so crisp and precise, even his hands and arm extension look very dancerly. Did that come through a lot of specific work with you? As a songwriter and artist, for Harry it’s about detail, about pushing yourself to be the best. He’s always got questions: "Why are we doing that? Should we be doing this?" We got to a point during the rehearsal period where I brought in a ballet teacher, really to just get Harry and Phoebe to open themselves up from behind their shoulder blades, have an idea of extension, the lines that extend from your center all the way to the tip of your finger. I’d be saying, “Your arms Harry, your arm line!” Asking him to push his shoulders down, lift his carriage up, extend through his breast. And when he hit those lines, he’d be like, “Oh yeah, that feels different.” It’s funny: We spent a couple days apart -- he had to go off and do a gig somewhere -- and I was like, “I hope you’re rehearsing when you’ve got some downtime, dude!” And he sent me a picture in the gym with his arms in the most beautiful balletic arm line! I was like, "Yes, by George, you’ve got it!" Besides the Nicholas Brothers, did you have any particular dance references in mind for the feel of the choreography? I just delved into the MGM archives. Obviously [Fred] Astaire and [Gene] Kelly, the two greats -- especially with Astaire, we loved how sometimes it seems so effortless yet a bit throwaway, not totally totally perfect always.  We enjoyed the moments from him of “I’ll just do a bit of this,” “I’ll just walk off camera left,” the dropping in and out of movement.  We loved the duet “Moses Supposes” from Singin’ in the Rain, for Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor -- we loved the camaraderie between them, which felt a bit goofball at times, and just that wry smile, the look to the left, knowing your partner is there and has got your back. It feels fizzy, it feels joyful.

And yes, there was a massive core of MGM-ism, but at the same time an absolute huge dollop of Harry-and-Phoebe-ism. It was important to us to feel a bit more contemporary, so again we stay true to Harry and Phoebe as artists. Has Harry indicated any interest in dancing more going forward?

We had a conversation back at the end of the summer about how much we enjoyed the process, and I know he was doing another project where choreography was involved, so we were just talking about it and how he felt. Coming from where he came from to what he was about to do, he felt he could be pushed even further. I don’t know if he got the bug, or if it’s just the way he is as a person, very inquisitive and wanting to keep elevating himself. There’s now been some talk on social media that it can’t be long before Harry does Broadway. What do you think?

I mean, I think with Harry Styles, anything is possible, is it not? I mean, I’m sure because he’s tasted the dance, he’ll inject that along the line in his career. It won’t necessarily be out-and-out dancing, but I guess it’s a bit like Bowie used to do, isn’t it? It’s the showmanship and presentation of the performance. Who knows? He’s just so open-minded and open-hearted — and because he’s so open it allows the universe to come back at him and he’s able to do anything he sets his mind to.  

[kingstylesdaily]

How Harry Styles Found His Inner Dancer For 'Treat People With Kindness'

“Feeling good in my skin/ I just keep on dancing,” Harry Styles sings in his latest single, “Treat People With Kindness.” And in the song’s exuberant music video -- which has garnered 17 million YouTube views and counting since its debut on New Year’s Day -- he does just that: Wearing a sequined jacket and bow tie, he chassés, spins and flutters jazz hands like an MGM musical star (with a little help from his equally debonair partner, Fleabag’s Phoebe Waller-Bridge).

Styles shot the video in early 2019 after several weeks of training with choreographer Paul Roberts, a collaborator since his One Direction days. “I think somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this could be something special,” says Roberts, a veteran stage director and choreographer who’s worked on videos and tours for the likes of Sam Smith, Katy Perry, Diana Ross, and the Spice Girls (their Spiceworld stadium tour).

Watching the explosive fan reaction to Styles’s little known dance talents -- including from the Spice Girls, who've “sent lovely messages" about the video -- Roberts says it seems like "Treat People With Kindness" arrived at the precise right moment. “Most people’s comments are, ‘I’ve not felt that happy for three and a half minutes in a long time,’ or ‘I smiled from ear to ear the whole way through.’ It’s a positive light.”

He spoke to Billboard about Styles’ intensive training process -- and why he wouldn’t be surprised to see him dancing onstage again.

There’s been one pretty overwhelming reaction to this video: “This is the guy who was in the group that insisted they couldn’t dance?!” Did you expect this kind of reaction to Harry dancing? I’ve been with Harry for 10 years: I was with the One Direction boys from the beginning the whole way through their career before they took the hiatus, and they always made a very conscious decision that they didn’t want choreography as part of their brand -- but they did want a kind of disheveled organization in order to allow the cameras and the lighting to stand a chance in terms of presenting them in the best manner possible.  

What was very evident to me was that all five of them, and then it obviously became four, they’ve all got their own magic. The only time I’ve experienced that was when I worked with the Spice Girls. I always knew that they had special skills aside from what they were in One Direction, whether it was movement, songwriting, being able to handle the business side of things. For such young lads they were very astute and very decisive.   So, getting together with Harry -- he’s a bit of an alchemist, is Harry. Everything he turns his hand to turns to gold. Where did the initial dance-centric concept come from? Harry and the directors, Ben and Gabe [Turner], sent me a video link to the Nicholas Brothers scene from Stormy Weather and Harry asked me, "How long do you think it would take to dance like this?" I was like, "OK, are you being serious?" "Yeah, I’m being serious."

That is probably one of the most standout dance sequences ever captured on film -- so I knew we were aiming high. I said, "Why don’t we go into a studio and let’s workshop some choreography, some moves, some short sequences, and see what your ability is, see how we can tailor this to make you look the best you can possibly look." Obviously it would take some investment in terms of rehearsal and commitment, I told him it would be mentally and physically exhausting, but I thought, "My God yeah, let’s do it; this will be an adventure."

How long did the whole process take? We started in mid-January 2019, and we rehearsed and workshopped for about four to five weeks before the shoot, every day. Both Harry and Phoebe had other things going on, so, for instance, Phoebe was working on the new Bond movie in Canada, so I sent my assistant to Canada to work with her. I stayed in the U.K. with Harry, and then we went to L.A. where Harry shot two more videos, for “Watermelon Sugar” and “Falling.”

At the end of the “Watermelon Sugar” shoot, he wrapped, got in his car, came to the dance studio and we rehearsed into the night. Knowing how short a time you sometimes get with artists even for really big performances, I thought the rehearsals would dilute and we’d lose momentum, but both Phoebe and Harry were so committed. What was the process in the studio like with Harry? We didn’t even use his [vocal] track to begin with -- we used different big band songs, some contemporary alternative music. It was just about finding his [movement] language first and foremost.  Then we developed the choreography and sent it to the directors, who gave us feedback. We enhanced the work a bit more, and then once we had some really solid sequences, Ben and Gabe storyboarded the scenes against the timeline of the music.

At this point Harry and Phoebe were still working separately, and then we joined forces in London, where we really started to refine these sequences of choreography we’d developed, trying to find the finesse and the style, almost making sense of the movement for them so they felt they had a dancer’s way of working the movement through the body. You’ve worked with a wide variety of artists, many of whom aren’t dancers first. How do you find, as you put it, the “language” of movement that makes sense for each of them as individuals?

I think the general answer is really communicating -- listening and understanding what the artist’s desire is. And also collaborating, so you don’t get too lost in yourself as a choreographer. What looks good on you might not transcend to the artist, or even necessarily the dancers.

With Harry, what was important within the language of the choreography was that it felt joyful and had personality. Him and Phoebe, with the work she’s done with Fleabag, you associate them and what they do with a sense of style, a real confidence, but at the heart of it it’s entertainment. And with the amount of time and budget we had, which was such a luxury in this day and age, we wanted to do something that pushed both of them out of their comfort zones. We tried to make it as athletic as possible but without compromising them as artists and becoming too comedic. We wanted it to be a bit quaint and cute in places, but we definitely didn’t want it to be thought of as nonsensical or silly.

Harry’s movement in the video is so crisp and precise, even his hands and arm extension look very dancerly. Did that come through a lot of specific work with you? As a songwriter and artist, for Harry it’s about detail, about pushing yourself to be the best. He’s always got questions: "Why are we doing that? Should we be doing this?" We got to a point during the rehearsal period where I brought in a ballet teacher, really to just get Harry and Phoebe to open themselves up from behind their shoulder blades, have an idea of extension, the lines that extend from your center all the way to the tip of your finger. I’d be saying, “Your arms Harry, your arm line!” Asking him to push his shoulders down, lift his carriage up, extend through his breast. And when he hit those lines, he’d be like, “Oh yeah, that feels different.” It’s funny: We spent a couple days apart -- he had to go off and do a gig somewhere -- and I was like, “I hope you’re rehearsing when you’ve got some downtime, dude!” And he sent me a picture in the gym with his arms in the most beautiful balletic arm line! I was like, "Yes, by George, you’ve got it!" Besides the Nicholas Brothers, did you have any particular dance references in mind for the feel of the choreography? I just delved into the MGM archives. Obviously [Fred] Astaire and [Gene] Kelly, the two greats -- especially with Astaire, we loved how sometimes it seems so effortless yet a bit throwaway, not totally totally perfect always.  We enjoyed the moments from him of “I’ll just do a bit of this,” “I’ll just walk off camera left,” the dropping in and out of movement.  We loved the duet “Moses Supposes” from Singin’ in the Rain, for Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor -- we loved the camaraderie between them, which felt a bit goofball at times, and just that wry smile, the look to the left, knowing your partner is there and has got your back. It feels fizzy, it feels joyful.

And yes, there was a massive core of MGM-ism, but at the same time an absolute huge dollop of Harry-and-Phoebe-ism. It was important to us to feel a bit more contemporary, so again we stay true to Harry and Phoebe as artists. Has Harry indicated any interest in dancing more going forward?

We had a conversation back at the end of the summer about how much we enjoyed the process, and I know he was doing another project where choreography was involved, so we were just talking about it and how he felt. Coming from where he came from to what he was about to do, he felt he could be pushed even further. I don’t know if he got the bug, or if it’s just the way he is as a person, very inquisitive and wanting to keep elevating himself. There’s now been some talk on social media that it can’t be long before Harry does Broadway. What do you think?

I mean, I think with Harry Styles, anything is possible, is it not? I mean, I’m sure because he’s tasted the dance, he’ll inject that along the line in his career. It won’t necessarily be out-and-out dancing, but I guess it’s a bit like Bowie used to do, isn’t it? It’s the showmanship and presentation of the performance. Who knows? He’s just so open-minded and open-hearted — and because he’s so open it allows the universe to come back at him and he’s able to do anything he sets his mind to. 

via billboard.com

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Another One?!, Part 2

First > Next

Years passed them by. It’s funny how that happens when no one in the house has a distinct schedule to follow. 

The hours blending together was actually really good for them as vigilantes. People couldn’t just plan around their normal patrolling hours.

Also, it meant that they could take days off without anyone thinking much of it.

Like today.

He glared at his reflection, touching his hair for the millionth time in an attempt to fix it. Or, rather, un-fix it. He was going for a messier look, why couldn’t he just get it to cooperate?

He gave his wife a pleading look. “Help?”

She clicked her tongue and looked him up and down a few times to get a gauge for his outfit (which he had purposely made too vague for her to get an idea of what they were doing) then rested her hands on her hips. “Well, I’d love to help…”

“But…?”

“But I can’t use my expertise unless I know where we’re going. There’s certain looks for different occasions, after all.”

He sighed. “C’mon…”

She bit her lip. “Fine. Just tell me how formal I need to be.”

“Casual…” He hesitated as he mulled it over. “But not jeans casual, more like day-dress casual. And wear darker colors, you could get stains on it.”

“There, was that so hard?”

He raised his eyebrow at her. “Considering I’m sure you’ve now guessed the surprise, I’m going to say yes.”

She gave him a cheeky grin and a wink.

He pouted. Man. He’d been so careful about keeping everything a secret from her. It was their tenth anniversary, he’d wanted to surprise her. He’d pulled out all the stops, even using cash for the tickets so she wouldn’t have an easy way to trace the payments.

Only to have it spoiled because of his hair.

Dang.

Then, she laughed and he thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad that she’d found out. The smile was worth it.

She reached up and started running her fingers through his hair. “As always, your problem is that you use too much hair gel… you never learn, do you…?”

“Maybe I do it on purpose to make you mess with my hair.”

She gave him a skeptical look and then pulled away. “Done. Time to get ready for… a carnival…? No… a circus.”

He pouted.

Marinette gave him another one of those laughs before slipping into the bathroom to change.

Two hours later they sat in a circus tent. Front-row seats, of course, they weren’t stingy.

She rested her head on his shoulder as they waited for everything to start. He stole some of her popcorn and smiled at the halfhearted glare he earned. His smile dropped when she dropped some onto his head. He pulled away from her to try and pick the pieces out.

“C’mon, Mari, my hair took so long. The paparazzi always checks on us on our anniversaries. I’m a model, you can’t do this to me --.”

And then the lights dimmed. And the ringmaster walked out.

The both of them tensed. The crowd was buzzing with excitment, but the two vigilantes gave each other wary looks. The ringmaster seemed almost anxious, his knuckles white on his cane.

Still, he gave a brilliant smile to the crowd as he announced the first act.

They relaxed the longer they watched. Nothing seemed to be going wrong, the contortionist was absolutely fine. So was the person doing aerial silks, and the clowns, the snake charmer…

Maybe the ringmaster was just new. He seemed to be growing more and more confident with each act. False alarm.

But then the trapeze artists came onstage.

Marinette murmured something about their outfits that he didn’t catch but knew was insulting.

The young performer smiled and waved to the crowd, then started climbing the opposite ladder as his parents.

The mom grabbed ahold of the trapeze and smiled as she hooked her knees over the bar, then held her hands out for her husband. The man jumped out and caught her hands.

And then the wire snapped.

The couple barely had a chance to scream before they hit the dirt.

The tent was completely silent.

And then the chaos started. Parents rushed to cover their kids’ eyes, people stumbled over each other as they ran, others surged forward to see better.

He could feel Marinette hop the railing in front of them to go check their pulses. There was no need, everyone could see it plainly, but she still tried.

Adrien didn’t move, his eyes locked on the kid.

He was standing there. He was hugging himself tightly, shaking, tears spilling over his cheeks.

He needed help.

A hand wrapped around his wrist. Marinette was pulling him out of the tent. He didn’t want to leave the kid alone but he couldn’t do that as Adrien Agreste. They needed to transform.

It took way too long to find a hiding place because people were already hiding in every obvious place they could think of. After a while they just broke into a trailer and dropped some money on the counter as an apology, unable to waste any more time.

They ran back into the tent and found that, to their horror, the police were there already.

Marinette mumbled a curse. “You deal with the kid, I’m going to steal some evidence before they get rid of it all.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and then practically disappeared.

Adrien found his way over to the child, who had been covered in a shock blanket. They flinched when he got closer and he gave his most award-winning smile as he held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I don’t want to hurt you, I promise.”

They looked kind of skeptical, but they did scoot over a little on their bench so he could sit down.

He sat as far away as he could, setting his baton at his feet carefully. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

His eyes never wavered from the front of the tent. It was like he was waiting for something or someone, but Adrien couldn’t guess what.

“Dick.”

“Well, Dick, do you have any family that I can take you to?”

Maybe that was what he was waiting for --?

“No.”

His smile disappeared. Ah. Not great.

He followed his gaze to the door and mulled everything over.

The kid didn’t seem to be in much of a rush, the shock was wearing off but it would still make the passage of time kind of weird for him. Adrien could take the time to think his next words through.

He’d met kids who had lost their last remaining family members before. Sometimes Marinette and Adrien just couldn’t get there in time and she wouldn’t be able to bring them back. It was an inevitable and unfortunately common part of their jobs. But every single time felt like a punch to the gut.

But he couldn’t let that show, not really.

He watched the kid out of the corner of his eyes. You always base your approach on how the kid is reacting in the moment. Some wanted open comfort, but this one didn’t want that if the way he’d flinched when Adrien had come close was any indication. Others wanted to just talk, also not going to happen considering the short answers he’d been given thus far. This kid seemed to just want to be left alone, but leaving a child in a vulnerable state was never a good idea.

So, what was he supposed to do?

He sighed. “I’m really sorry about what happened, these kinds of accidents --.”

“It wasn’t an accident.”

Adrien blanked. “Sorry?”

“It wasn’t an accident.” Dick hugged the blanket tighter around himself. “There was two guys. Mean-looking. Tried to get Mr. Haly to do some… protection payments? Left all mad and stuff. Said they would get paid or get payback.”

He was so shocked that the kid had given an answer with more than a few words in it that his brain buzzed right past the information he was given and he had to backtrack to actually process it.

And, when he did, his fists clenched.

“Did they mention any names?” He asked quietly, fighting to keep his voice level. This was still a kid who needs help, he couldn’t allow his anger to mess that up.

“Zucco.”

Adrien filed that information away for later and then gave the kid a once-over. They were no longer staring at the door, instead just fidgeting under their blanket. It was good that they were coming out of shock, but he doubted that Dick would see it that way. The numbness would be wearing off soon, and the feelings that would come to take its place would be painful.

He did the only thing he could think of: try and distract the kid. Good to see he’s passing on the unhealthy coping mechanisms.

“Hey, are you going to stay in the circus?”

“Can I?” Said Dick. He didn’t seem all that excited, just confused. As if he hadn’t thought that an option.

Adrien shrugged. “I mean, there’s that whole thing about ‘running away and joining the circus’. Even if they force you into an orphanage, you can probably just come back here.”

“I hear orphanages suck.”

True. He doubted that Dick would get the mental health treatment he needed (if he got any at all) and the money at those kinds of places were always stretched thin, especially in Gotham. He didn’t like the idea of sending the kid there, but what other choices did he have?

Before he could really think of an answer a hand clapped itself over his shoulder.

He barely even looked back. He knew who it was going to be. He fought back a groan.

“Ross,” he said, the smile on his face becoming more strained. He wasn’t going to fight in front of Dick, the kid was already stressed enough. “Nice to see you again.”

The cop didn’t seem all that concerned about niceties, his grip tightening on Adrien’s shoulder. “Get away from my witness.”

“He has a name. And he doesn’t know anything. Leave him alone.”

Dick frowned. “But I --.”

Marinette popped up out of nowhere, arms crossed over her chest as she openly glared at the officer. “You guys should keep better track of the evidence you actually do have, someone might take it.”

Officer Ross went pale and then ran to his partner to ask where the evidence was.

Adrien was also pale, though for different reasons. This kid didn’t know that the police were corrupt and that telling them anything would likely end in him getting killed? He couldn’t let that happen. Where could he keep him that they wouldn’t check? An orphanage or the circus wouldn’t work, those would be the first places they’d go…

He brought a smile to his face as he carefully leaned towards the kid. To his delight, he didn’t flinch or lean away. Progress!

“Hey, I’ve got some friends that I think I can give you to. Good people. They’ll take care of you until we can find something more permanent, sound good?”

Dick looked a little skeptical but he nodded.

Adrien carefully scooped the kid up in his arms and looked at his wife. “I’m going to take him, you can go home for the night and relax.” He sent her a discreet wink.

She smiled faintly and gave Dick a tiny wave before slipping out of the tent.

Good. She’d understood.

~

She had definitely not understood.

You see, winks are ambiguous.

Adrien’s wink had meant ‘Get home and brush up on your acting skills because we need to sell this’.

She had thought his wink had meant ‘It’s our anniversary and we shouldn’t be working anyways. Go ahead and head home, we’ve already done too much and I want to relax with my darling wife’.

So, when she’d gotten home she’d detransformed and slipped into some comfy pajamas and plopped herself down on the couch to watch some TV.

And then the door had opened.

She’d smiled and poked her head up. “Back already? That was quick --.”

Adrien was still holding Dick to himself.

Tikki gave a quiet gasp of surprise and zipped between the couch cushions.

Her husband smiled. “Hey, can I cash in a favor?”

Marinette opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, and then pursed her lips tightly. She couldn’t exactly say ‘no’, because now that she thought about it they really didn’t have any other options (kids have a tendency to have no filter and this one seemed to lack any common sense at all if she was judging by his outfit)...

Didn’t mean she couldn’t be bitter. They should have had more of a conversation about this than a wink, and she was going to tell him that:

“I don’t know, Chat, my husband isn’t here right now. This is the kind of thing you’re supposed to discuss with your partner.”

Adrien winced almost imperceptibly and had the decency to look sheepish. “I’m sure he’d be fine with it. Please, I have nowhere else I can take him.”

She bit her lip and looked at the kid, then squeezed her eyes shut.

There was a more selfish reason that they both wanted to do this…

They wanted kids. It had just never really been an option for them. If she wanted to get pregnant, she would pretty much have to give up crime-fighting for those nine months (and possibly permanently, that stuff has long-term effects). They couldn’t really bring themselves to adopt, either, because their lives were hectic and every single book in the world says that adoptees need a stable home.

She couldn’t let their wishes cloud their judgment. She was supposed to be the rational one. They would certainly mess this kid up, taking him wasn’t an option…

But leaving him wasn’t an option…

And it was kind of like the universe was dropping Dick into their laps…

Dick started to sniffle, bringing a hand up to wipe his eyes. Damn. She’d taken too long and now he felt rejected.

Her heart clenched. The kid didn’t deserve this...

“I… we can take him… but only temporarily. We need to find a better home for him eventually.”

It was best that none of them got their hopes up. This wasn’t a good solution, just the only one they could think of at the moment. At some point they’d think of a better one, and they’d have to do that.

Adrien and Dick both nodded.

Marinette slowly walked over and leaned down slightly to be at the kid’s eye level. “I’m Marinette Agreste. What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Richard. You can call me Dick, though.”

Listen. She wasn’t proud of what she’d said. But she’d never heard it before -- she was far less social than Adrien was -- and, really, how do you get the name ‘Dick’ from ‘Richard’?

“I don’t think you understand how much I cannot do that.”

Adrien had had to set Dick down, he was laughing so hard.

~

When he came home (as Adrien, this time), he was surprised to see Marinette stress baking.

He wasn’t sure why he was surprised, adopting a child is a stressful situation even if you had been expecting it. And they definitely had not been expecting it.

He watched her bake for a moment in the doorway.

She clicked her tongue. “Are you just going to watch me bake or are you going to come inside? Or do I have to make a ‘look what the cat dragged in’ joke everytime I see you, now?”

He smiled and took a seat on the counter. “What’re you making?”

“Cookies.” She turned around for some flour and then sent him a half-hearted glare when she saw him sitting next to it. “I was using that counter.”

“Unfortunate.”

Marinette clicked her tongue again and then moved to another spot. “When...” She grimaced a little. “When… the kid wakes up from a nightmare -- because there’s no way that he wouldn’t have one after tonight -- I’d like to at least have something sweet ready for him. I know we’re not his parents or whatever, but he should at least feel welcome while he’s here.”

He sobered a little, pulling a knee to his chest. “The whole vigilante thing… we’re going to have to put it on hold for a little while, you know…”

“There’s no way we can properly take care of a kid and be Chat Noir and Ladybug. Or, at least, we’d need to make some changes.” She procured a whisk out of seemingly nowhere and started whisking the batter.

He raised his eyebrows. “Changes?”

“We could take shifts. I’d take night shifts as Ladybug and day shifts parenting the kid. You do the opposite.”

“We’d burn out,” said Adrien with a sigh.

“Well, what are we supposed to do? Give the city over to Superman? Guy is shady enough as it is.”

He rolled his eyes. “He’s not shady, you just can’t handle people being nice to you.”

“MY POINT IS that we can’t just stop protecting the city. Especially not if the mob is going after circuses of all things.”

“Yeah, why are they doing that? Is there really money from circuses? Aren’t they all going out of fashion because of that whole ‘animal abuse’ thing most of them have going on?”

“As they should,” she murmured. She finished whisking and started searching for something in the drawers. She procured a scoop and started making rows of cookies. “But, probably, smuggling. No one bats an eye when circuses cross borders, that’s kind of their whole thing.”

He nodded slowly. “Fair enough. Still seems like a hassle, especially now that they’re probably going to be more heavily regulated because those people died.”

“Well, hopefully their sacrifice won’t be in vain. The bit of trapeze wire I stole from the police might give us some leads on the guy’s pseuds.”

“Are you calling up Nygma?”

She shrugged and set the cookies in the oven. “Kinda. He hasn’t done anything in three months, so he’s due any day now. I’ll talk to him about it after saving whoever he captured this time… unless you want to talk to him instead?”

He grinned. “No, I could never go instead of you. You like making fun of his outfit too much.”

“Awwww, thanks, Chaton,” she cooed. She took a seat next to him and pressed a short kiss to his lips. “You know me so well.”

“Well, we’ve been partners for fifteen years. You’d hope I’d know you by now.”

She smiled faintly and leaned into him. She watched the timer tick down for a little while in silence, biting her lip.

“What’s wrong?”

“I mean, even if the trapeze was sabotaged, what are the chances that the acid is something special that we can trace to him? One of us is going to have to go undercover.”

He raised his eyebrows. “And leave Dick alone?”

“There’s no way Zucco is only going after this one place. We can’t take back what’s happened to him, but we can at least make sure he’s the only one to have to go through this.”

Adrien frowned. She was right, though he hated it. While they had given themselves the obligation of taking care of Dick, they couldn’t just drop everything for him. Especially considering their jobs.

“Okay, M’lady, what’s the plan?”

“Well, I hear that the circus is looking for new trapeze artists.”

~

She smiled as she set the last of the cookies in the Tupperware and started heading towards Dick’s new room.

Her conversation with Adrien had gone a lot better than she was expecting, honestly. She’d explained her reasoning for why it would be safe now and he’d, however reluctantly, agreed that she’d made sense.

She decided she’d wait a few days for everything to end up in the news properly before asking to join the circus. After all, it would be suspicious if she called just a few hours after a tragedy.

She stopped outside the former guest room and considered knocking… and then decided she’d better not. On the off chance that Dick wasn’t having a nightmare, she didn’t want to wake him.

She pressed the door open and then stopped cold when she saw that the kid was crying.

Marinette glanced behind her, wondering if she could get away with just walking past and acting like she was going to the bathroom or something. She wasn’t good with emotions, not with people close to her. Random people on the street were fine, people she’d never have to interact with again were fine, but this…

She was not nearly as good as Adrien… but Adrien was asleep, the fucker...

“Miss Marinette?” Said the kid.

She winced mentally and reached along the wall for the light. “Yes, sweetie, it’s me.”

The light flicked on and she saw Dick duck his head so his hair would hide his face.

“I brought cookies,” she said awkwardly as she walked over and took a seat on the edge of his bed. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I just went with chocolate chip.”

He nodded slightly and mumbled his thanks as he took the Tupperware from her.

She bit her lip as he nibbled at her cookies, and then couldn’t help but smile at the way his posture relaxed a little.

“These are good.”

“My parents were bakers. I’d have been disowned if I couldn’t make chocolate chip cookies.”

He cracked the tiniest of smiles.

She floundered again in the new silence. There’s a difference between comfortable silences and awkward ones and this was definitely feeling more on the awkward side.

“I could teach you to bake, if you’d like. I doubt you had time to learn on the road.”

He hesitated. “I’d burn the place down.”

“That’s okay. If I could teach Adrien to cook then there’s hope for anyone.”

She had not, in fact, been able to teach Adrien to cook. He had set the entire kitchen on fire in what they now called The Brownie Incident… but Dick didn’t need to know that.

He smiled a little more and leaned back against the bed frame, still eating cookies. He had to be on his third one by now. She wasn’t going to call him out on it, though.

She glanced him over. He was no longer really hiding his face, and the tears had stopped sliding down his cheeks. He seemed content. She didn’t want to drag any feelings back, but...

“Would you like to talk about your nightmare?” She asked quietly.

“No.”

She winced internally. “Okay. Would you like me to leave?”

“No.”

Marinette let a little bit of surprise show on her face for just a second before slowly scooting over to lay next to him. She took a cookie he offered her and closed her eyes, relaxing a little.

“Are you going to sleep again?”

“No.”

“That’s okay. Do you want that baking lesson now?”

Dick giggled a little. “But we already have cookies…”

“Well, we don’t have any cakes, now, do we? Or brownies. And there’s other types of cookies!”

She peeked an eye open and couldn’t help but smile a little at the grin on the kid’s face at the mention of all the possibilities.

Then he gave her a suspicious look. “Are you trying to fatten me up like an evil witch?”

“Yes,” she said gravely. “I adopt little circus kids and fatten them up to eat. The entire house is actually made of candy.”

To her surprise and slight horror, he actually brought the corner of his blanket to his mouth. Then he spat it out. “Liar!”

“I…” She trailed off. She didn’t know how to respond to that. Moving on. “So, about that baking thing, how do brownies sound?”

He grabbed her by the sleeve of her pajama shirt and pulled her out into the halls with a bright smile. She had to do a half-jog to keep up with him.

“Shhhh, Mister Adrien is asleep!” He stage-whispered.

She scoffed. “Me?! You’re the one running!”

“Shhhhhhhhh!”

Marinette clicked her tongue once and allowed him to pull her into a full on jog as they raced through the house. Really, it was a testament to how tired he was that Adrien didn’t wake up.

She grinned and offered him a hand to get up on the counter, and then was reminded of the fact that he was a literal trapeze artist as he vaulted off of her hand and jumped over her head to get to it.

She whispered a quiet “holy shit” in English, then covered her mouth with her hand. She and Adrien had a sort of unspoken rule that you can only curse in English, it’s just a weird thing that bilingual households do where cursing in the second language just doesn’t count, but now this was an actual kid who spoke (as far as she was aware) only English. She can’t teach him curse words!

But he didn’t seem to hear it, instead smiling as he reached towards the sink and started cleaning his hands.

She washed her hands after him and then started pulling down things to make brownies. Should she do chocolate chips or just cocoa powder…?

She remembered The Brownie Incident.

She shivered.

Cocoa powder. Definitely cocoa powder.

She put some butter in the microwave.

“What does ‘holy shit’ mean?”

She wheezed. “Uh-- I-- um--.”

“I’m just messing with you. I already know.”

Oh thank fuck.

Well, maybe not. She was kind of glad that he was feeling comfortable enough to joke around with her, but… the idea of him secretly being a little shit, while not necessarily surprising, was a bit worrying.

“Okay… good? Just… don’t swear in front of Adrien. I don’t really care, but if he hears you he might think I taught you… so it’s just our little secret, okay?”

He smiled and made a zipping motion across his lips. She copied the motion.

Aw, she’d almost forgotten how cute kids were when they weren’t in dangerous or sad situations.

The microwave beeped and she hummed as she combined the butter, cocoa, and sugar. She stirred a bit and then handed Dick the eggs.

“Here, you can crack three of them into the bowl. Do you know how to do that?”

He huffed. “Yes!”

He, in fact, did not know how to do that.

She watched in open-mouthed horror as he attempted to just pull the egg open without cracking it.

“N… no, sweetie. You need to break it on the counter, first.”

He nodded and then slammed the egg on the counter.

Marinette wiped some egg off of the front of her shirt and then took a few breaths to steady herself. Now that the shock had worn off, she was very tempted to laugh and she was not going to do that to this poor, confused kid.

“I think I did it wrong.”

She snickered and then coughed to cover it up. “I… yes. I’ll show you how to do it.”

He gave a tiny smile as she took his hand and taught him how to crack an egg. He repeated the process with the other two eggs and she worked at cleaning up the mess he’d made.

… how the fuck was there egg on the wall? That was a good seven feet away from the island they were cooking on. Sure, he had to be strong to be an acrobat, but what the fuck?

She sighed and set the napkin done now that he was done and smiled as she added the vanilla, salt, and flour.

She handed him a spatula.

“Stir. Go wild, kid,” she said, 

Big mistake.

Dick took her words to heart, and she watched as he stirred madly, batter flying everywhere.

She laughed, only to get splashed with the batter.

She managed to stop his hand and sent him a tiny glare.

“I'm starting to think you’re doing this on purpose.”

“Whaaaat? No.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly, and then gasped when he lobbed a tiny bit of batter at her shirt.

“Oops,” he said, giving her a feral grin.

Marinette couldn’t help but smile back… then she reached past him and grabbed a handful of flour. She flicked her fingers and smiled when it got on his face.

He pouted and started rubbing his eyes. “Ow…”

Panic.

“Oh, sorry, did I get it in your eyes?” She leaned down. “Let me see.”

He nodded and slowly brought his hands away from his face and she checked his eyes with her fingers carefully --.

Only to feel an egg smash itself on top of her head.

She wiped some egg from her face and narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ll get you for that one, you traitor!”

He squealed and set the batter down, then did a backroll away from her.

Marinette and Dick grabbed their weapons…

An hour later, they were both breathing heavily.

“Truce?” She said, lowering her flour-covered arm.

He nodded slowly… and then threw an egg at her.

She dodged it easily and glared at him, her hand already reaching for her flour again —.

“Now truce! Now truce.”

She hesitated, then clicked her tongue as she let herself relax.

They looked around the mess that was the kitchen... at the batter still somehow untouched on the counter… the oven, which hadn’t even been preheated yet…

“Do you just want to eat the batter?”

“Let me get some spoons.”

A few hours later, Adrien walked in… only to stop short when he saw his wife and new kid there, covered in cooking ingredients. Dick had fallen asleep with his head on her shoulder. She was fine with this, there was still some batter left.

“Um…?”

“Brownies are cursed,” she told him, then she took another spoonful.

“What?” Said a bewildered and still half-asleep Adrien.

She looked her husband dead in the eye as she pulled the spoon from her mouth with a tiny ‘pop’.

“Brownies are cursed.”

~

Adrien felt bad homeschooling the kid.

Really, it had brought him a lot of grief growing up. He hadn’t known anyone besides Chloe and Kagami until he was twelve years old.

But, as it turned out, Dick really needed to be homeschooled.

On top of just… having no formal education whatsoever and his general knowledge being a toss of the dice, it was also the middle of the school year and everyone knows you can’t just dump new kids into a class halfway through.

Adrien tipped his head back against his chair and closed his eyes.

Dick was taking a test to see what he had to teach him, but he wasn’t concerned about the kid cheating. What was he going to do? Sneak away, grab a textbook, and start flipping through it without him noticing?

He sighed.

The kid was… weird.

He was always smiling, always in motion, always affectionate. It was something they’d figured out quickly, but it had taken longer to notice that he was only like that when he was talking about things he actually wanted to. If they asked how he was doing, because it had only really been a week since it had happened, he would clam up and start semi-subtly shifting the conversation away.

He was avoiding his problems. And Marinette and Adrien really didn’t know what to do. He had stolen their unhealthy coping mechanism and now they were forced to stand back and watch as the kid destroyed himself the same way they did. And they knew it was a terrible coping mechanism, even Dick might have known it, but what were they supposed to do? They had been around much longer and they hadn’t found a better mechanism, what could they do for Dick?

He peeked an eye open and looked at the kid, who was chewing on the end of his pen as he thought through the question he was on.

… damn, he was actually going to have to learn how to cope, huh?

So, that afternoon, he passed Dick off to Marinette like a baton in a relay race and took a bus to the bookstore.

The psychology section was huge and filled to the brim with case studies. It was honestly daunting to look at. Instead, he made his way to the clerk.

The woman looked him up and down once. “Rough week?”

“You have no idea,” he muttered. “Can I have some recommendations for books on adoption, parenting, and coping with trauma? And also a highlighter, that would probably help.”

He skimmed through the parenting and adoption books. He and Marinette had already done this a few years back when they had first been considering kids, he was mostly just getting a refresher.

And then he turned to the five books on coping mechanisms he’d bought.

He took a deep breath and started looking methodically reading his way through it, highlighter in hand.

The next day, he found Dick, who was drumming his fingers on the table as he glared at the textbook in front of him.

Adrien had some suspicions about the kid in front of him, though he wasn’t absolutely sure yet. Still, he figured he should test his theory.

Besides, it would also help keep the kid safe and physical activity was one of the things a book on coping mechanisms had suggested.

Multi-tasking!

Or maybe it was just efficiency…

Whatever!

He smiled. “Hey, kid, want to try something different for today’s lesson?”

Dick looked up, frowning. “Like what?”

“Well… how do you feel about learning self-defense?”

~

“Where are you going?” Asked Dick with a tiny frown as she started bustling around the living room in search of her shoes.

“Uh… work!” She said.

They’d both agreed that telling Dick that she was going to go do the exact job his parents had just died in was a terrible idea, so they’d thought up a cover story… too bad she couldn’t think of it at the moment. She finally saw her shoes tucked under the couch and dove down to grab them, then sent her kid a smile.

“Have a good day, sweetie, I’ll see you later,” she said, walking over and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

She ducked out the door and started running all over again. Her eyes found their way to her watch. It was a tryout and she was going to be late…

But she wasn’t.

Barely.

She stumbled inside with one minute to spare, panting, and it took everything in her not to slump over the nearest bench and die.

“Hi,” she wheezed at Haly, who raised his eyebrows slightly at her.

“You’re really cutting it close, here. Have anything to say for yourself?”

She rested a hand over her heart as if that would somehow bring it back to normal. “I need a fucking car.”

Haly paused, then nodded. “That explains that. I’ll let you off with a warning that you should try not to be late again.”

“Oka --.” She stopped, and then looked at him. “I got the job?”

He shrugged and pointed around at the empty tent. “You’re the only one here.”

Wow. She’d suspected that people would be less than eager to take the job offer, but to be the only person…

Well, she figured that she should just be thankful. That made things much easier.

She smiled faintly. “Cool. Should I still show you my skills and everything?”

He motioned to the trapeze. There was a net under it. The man had learned his lesson, at least. “Please.”

It turns out that being Ladybug is really helpful when you want to be a trapeze artist.

Actually, she found that being a trapeze artist was actually easier in some ways. Instead of having to hold tight to one thin string when swinging around, she was able to get a proper grip on a bar.

It was a lot of fun. Recently, she’d been using her cane more. Having a yoyo was impractical as a weapon when people were firing guns, so she’d more or less stopped using it. She’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel the wind in her hair. It was calming...

Also, she got to show off, which was always fun.

She stopped after a few minor tricks and gave a bow to Haly, who seemed to just be glad that she actually had an idea of what she was doing.

“You’ll need about a month of training before you do any shows. Do you have any other expertise?”

She shook her head. It was a lie, she would probably be good with aerial silks or contortionism, but she felt some weird need to do the trapeze…

Just then, her phone buzzed.

She glanced at it and read the news headline.

She groaned and turned to Haly. “Can I have a minute? I need to take this.”

The man nodded.

She scowled as she stepped out and dialled a number.

“NYGMA.”

“Ladybug!” Riddler said cheerfully. She could hear a woman sobbing in the background. “What’s up? Did you see the news?”

“Yes, I saw. I’m at a job interview!”

The smile in the man’s voice disappeared as he spoke next: “Oh, I’m sorry. I can reschedule the death trap.”

“YOU CAN, CAN YOU?”

“Yep! How does tomorrow sound?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to relax. “I can do tomorrow. Thank you. And let go of the poor lady, will you?”

“Fiiiiine.”

She hung up on him and then stepped back inside, giving Haly her brightest smile.

“I can start working in two days, if that sounds good to you.”

~

Adrien hesitated.

Really, he should be getting Marinette to train Dick on self-defense. They had similar movement styles…

But his hunch had been right. This kid seemed to learn a lot better when he was multitasking and, as much as he loved his wife, he didn’t think her English was good enough to teach someone else.

And, besides, he wanted to spend time with his kid, dang it!

He stopped Dick before he could throw another punch at the dummy to fix his form. “I know putting power into it is hard when you’re so little, but you need to rotate your hips so you can get at least some kind of force behind it.”

The kid pouted. “But this is so boooooooring. It’s just the same thing over and over again! I want to do cool stuff!”

“Not yet. You have to understand the basics before you start messing with it.”

Dick gave another pout, this time adding puppy-dog eyes, but, unfortunately for him, Adrien had never been fond of dogs. He raised his eyebrows, unimpressed.

The kid groaned and started punching the pads again.

“I before E, except after C, or when sounding like A, as in neighbor and…”

~

It didn’t take long for Marinette to notice The Guy.

She had a pretty good vantage point from the ladder to her trapeze. She would stop at the top, her hands up in a salute, and pause for ‘dramatic effect’.

Her eyes flicked over the crowd and locked on the face of The Guy.

He was at every show, his face pulled into a bored frown as he rested his head on his hand. He’d sit there the whole time, watching the same performance over and over again, and then leave the moment the show was over.

She pursed her lips for half a second before bringing her face back to its smile.

She’d brought a camera this time. This time she’d be able to get his face so she and Adrien could get information on him.

But, for now, she concentrated on making the first jump to the trapeze…

She sat down after her act, still breathing heavily. She was in shape… but, kwami, that kind of stuff is hard! Still, she couldn’t help but smile. She hadn’t been challenged in a while. It was kind of fun.

She wondered, vaguely, if this was what she’d be doing if she hadn’t gone back into crime fighting.

Marinette pushed that thought from her head as she downed her water. It wasn’t the time. She only had a few more minutes before she was on again for the outro. She needed the picture now.

She grabbed her camera from her locker and snuck her way to the stands, and pointed her camera --.

The Guy had spotted her. He looked directly at her camera, his face set in an even deeper frown than usual.

She quickly snapped the picture, then darted back behind the curtain. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. Shit! Shitshitshit --!

Okay. Breathe.

He wasn’t going to just kill her. If the way they’d offed the Graysons was any indication, they didn’t want to draw too much attention to the circus. It was unfortunate what had happened, but not suspicious. However, the trapeze was new and there was a net. An accident like that couldn’t happen again.

No, they’d probably wait until after the show. That would be fine. She could deal with that. At least then she could stall until she had energy by waiting with someone.

She felt a hand tap her shoulder and looked over at the contortionist. “Time?”

“Time,” he said simply.

She hid the camera and ran out with him, smiling like she wasn’t about to face off with a mobster.

Two hours later, she stepped into her train car and crossed her arms over her chest. “Right, I know you’re in here,” she said quietly.

Or, at least, she hoped so. Because otherwise she would be looking a little silly --.

Wait, a knife pressed to her neck. Maybe she wished she was wrong.

She clicked her tongue and leaned into her attacker, closing her eyes. “You Americans still say ‘yo’, right?”

The Guy tensed a little under her, and then whispered a confused, “No…?”

She huffed. “Damn. Why do you change your greetings so often? Whatever. Kaalki, a little help would be nice.”

“Who --?” Began The Guy, but he was quickly cut off.

Because a portal opened under them and dumped them into a back alley in Gotham.

Marinette grinned and grabbed his arm, using his confusion to lean forward and flip him over her shoulder. He cursed as his back hit the ground and the blade clattered to the floor.

She grabbed it nonchalantly and her eyes flicked over the hilt.

A name was engraved there.

Zucco.

“You mob people make this too easy. Now, tell me everything you know.”

He glared up at her. “They’ll kill me!”

“And what gave you the impression that I wouldn’t?” She twirled the knife in her fingers. “Quickly, please, I have a kid to get back to.”

A half hour later, he had spilled everything he knew.

And his guts…

She rolled off of him and glanced at the bloodied dagger in her hand. Her nose scrunched up as she dropped it beside him. There. Now it looked like a mob hit.

She pushed herself to her feet and dusted herself off, only to groan at the sight of the blood staining her front.

She gave the corpse a kick as she cursed him out:

“Asshole. I liked these clothes!”

~

He smiled as he pulled his wife into his side.

Dick had finally gone to bed, so it was just them two. For once.

Marinette had a show in an hour that she needed to portal back for, and Adrien needed to go out as Chat Noir soon, but they didn’t want to get up just yet.

She yawned and curled closer to him. “I guess…” She yawned again. “I guess I should tell you what I found out. Which is basically nothing. Apparently, hardly anyone has ever seen Zucco in person, just the higher ups. He just sends people to do his bidding.”

He groaned and buried his face in her hair. “Great. Did you at least give the sample to Nygma when you saw him yesterday?”

“Obviously.” Her watch beeped and she mumbled a curse. “Alright, I have to go.”

“Nooooooo.”

“Yeeees,” she said, gently pushing his chest until he let go. She stretched out a bit and then walked to the bedroom door.

It swung open before she even touched the knob.

Dick was standing in the doorway, hugging a Chat Noir doll to his chest. “I had a nightmare. Can I sleep with you guys?”

Marinette glanced at her watch and then at the kid and then at her watch again.

“Or are you guys both going out again?”

Adrien winced. “You noticed that?”

“It’s, like, every night,” he said irritably. He sighed and wiped his eyes a little bit. “Fine. I’ll just go lay down again.”

She bit her lip and then leaned down to look him in the eyes. “I’ll be back in four hours, okay, sweetie? Can you handle that?”

Dick looked at the ground. “Sure.”

Marinette grimaced. “I’m sorry.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”

They could hear the coatrack hit the ground in her hurry to grab her jacket and get out the door.

Adrien sighed and looked at Dick, who was still standing in the doorway.

He really should be going on patrol. The people of Gotham had begun to notice that Chat Noir and Ladybug had been showing up less frequently. Crime rates were rising…

He laid back in bed and opened his arms. “I won’t leave. Come here.”

Dick gave a tiny smile, though it seemed a little forced. Still, he got into bed and curled up in Adrien’s arms.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He tried.

“No.”

He sighed. “You’re going to have to talk about it, eventually. Avoiding it is just going to make it harder to deal with later.”

“Nope.”

He gave a tiny laugh. Dang. This kid really was just them but younger. Now all he needed was a miraculous and he’d be a perfect mini version of them…

“Where do you guys even go?” Asked Dick, his voice muffled in Adrien’s chest.

“Work,” he said after a few minutes’ deliberation.

“I thought you didn’t really have jobs.”

He laughed quietly. “Marinette has a million jobs, and I have my one. Though we don’t really get paid for what we do most of the time.”

“Why do you do it, then?”

Adrien raised his eyebrows slightly, then gave a tiny shrug. “Why did you do the trapeze?”

He’d meant for it to be a rhetorical question, meant for it to be something that would make Dick change the subject, so it was a complete surprise when the kid whispered: “It was all that I knew.”

Internally, he was screaming. It was happening! Finally! He had opened up a little bit!

Externally, he nodded and rubbed circles into the kid’s back. “Hopefully, we can make it so it’s not all you know. Help you branch out a little bit while you’re here.”

He felt tiny hands clutch the back of his shirt. “Can’t do that when you’re always gone.”

“I know,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

They stayed in silence for a long time. Adrien was pretty sure that Dick had fallen asleep, but he wasn’t going to move. The kid had noticed that they were gone often, but the two of them had always made sure to wait until he had fallen asleep to leave. He had to be waking up at least once a night, so…

He held the kid close to his chest.

A few hours later, the door creaked open.

Adrien opened an eye blearily and saw Marinette get into bed. He lifted an arm for Marinette to join the cuddle and smiled faintly when she actually did.

He let himself drift off.

~

A few days later, Marinette and Adrien came back from patrols to find Dick talking to the kwamis. All of them gave sounds of surprise when they saw the two vigilantes in the door and disappeared except for Trixx, who turned and fixed their purple eyes on them.

Marinette pursed her lips tightly for a second, considering what to say, and then decided on: “What the fuck, guys?”

Adrien removed his arm from around her waist so he could bury his face in his hands.

Trixx smiled. “It’s not what it looks like. He found us.”

“He…” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “So… you’re telling me that this kid pushed our bed aside, pulled up the exact right floorboard, and pulled out the miracle box...”

“... yes.”

“Forgive me for being skeptical, but I’m not buying it.”

Dick pouted and hugged the tiny fox to his chest. “Are you mad at her?”

Marinette hesitated.

Before Dick had known about the kwamis, they had a chance of giving him back. They would have been able to find better parents for him, been able to give him a genuinely good life. But now… they couldn’t risk giving him up. The reason they’d taken him in in the first place was that he was relatively loose-lipped. Now that he knew something so important, there was no way in hell that they could risk him ever telling anyone.

Of course, she doubted they would have been able to give up Dick anyways. She’d grown annoyingly attached to the kid, he was sweet and generally made her life a little more fun, but now there wasn’t an option at all.

Still, this part of their lives… beyond needing to keep things a secret, it was extremely dangerous to involve a kid in this kind of thing.

Adrien answered first: “No, we’re not mad. Just… this wasn’t exactly the plan.”

“And what was the plan? Never telling me that we have a bunch of… what did they call themselves? Kwamis? Whatever, they’re gods. There are just gods living in our house!”

Marinette shrugged. “We weren’t telling you because we didn’t want you to get dragged into this part of our lives, sweetie.”

Dick huffed. “And are there any other secrets that I should know about?”

“They’re Ladybug and Chat Noir,” supplied Trixx.

“TRIXX?!”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY’RE CHAT NOIR AND LADYBUG?!”

The fox kwami laughed and disappeared.

Marinette scowled. “I know you’re still here, Trixx, where are you? I will hunt you.”

“Please, Mari, you don’t need to do that. Just get the fox miraculous and summon her here, it’s much easier.”

“Smart.”

“WHY HAVE YOU STILL NOT DENIED IT?!”

Marinette and Adrien looked at each other awkwardly.

Well… the secret was out.

She opened her purse and he opened his jacket, and their kwamis slowly poked their heads out to look at Dick.

Poor kid was not prepared.

He covered his eyes with his hands and took a few deep breaths. “So… I… wow…”

Well, she supposed there could be worse reactions.

“Wait, so are you investigating what happened with my parents?”

Like that. That was a worse reaction. Fuck.

Marinette carefully took a seat on the floor by her kid. Adrien sat down as well.

“We’re working on it,” she said carefully. “I’m following a lead and I got help from a… an associate of ours.”

Adrien nodded. “It will take a while. It’s just the two of us -- and Nygma, I guess -- so it’s not going to be done quickly.”

Dick removed his hands from his eyes and looked at them both. “I want to help.”

“No,” said both adults instantly.

“But --.”

“Nope,” said Marinette.

“I --.”

Adrien held up his hands. “Not allowed.”

Dick pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why not? They’re my parents.”

Marinette shook her head slowly. “It has nothing to do with that. You’re a kid, we can’t just let you fight crime.”

“Oh? And when did you start fighting crime?”

“Eighteen,” said Marinette, which technically wasn’t a lie…

Which means it was unfortunate that Adrien gave a more accurate answer: “I was twelve, she was thirteen.”

She groaned and rested her head in her hands. “Damn it, Adrien.”

“So, when I’m twelve, can I join you guys?”

Marinette pursed her lips tightly. She didn’t want to be a hypocrite, but she also didn’t want to let an actual kid fight crime. She had fought crime as a kid, it had messed her up. She wasn’t eager to pass that on to someone else…

But…

“Fine. How about this: if we don’t solve it by the time you’re twelve you can join us for that case specifically.”

Dick pouted a little, but seemed to understand. “Okay.”

She and Adrien met eyes. They had three years to solve this case before Dick would get involved, and they couldn’t let that happen.

But it was three years.

How hard could it be?

~

He and Marinette sat on the floor in front of the miracle box, sorting the miraculi into two different piles: ‘Will Protect’ and ‘Can’t Protect’.

Once that was done, they started sifting through the ‘Will Protect’ pile.

“Turtle?” Marinette said.

Adrien shook his head. “Doesn’t fit his fighting style. Bee?”

She shuddered. “Don’t need another Chloe. Snake?”

They tipped their heads from side to side as they considered it, but then Trixx piped up: “I’m right here, y’know.”

The two vigilantes jumped out of their skin. Then they glared at the kwami.

“Must you always sneak up on us?”

“Yes. Anyways, I’m the best fit for the kid and you know it.”

Marinette pursed her lips. Adrien raised his eyebrows.

It was true. From the moment they’d started considering giving Dick a miraculous (because, even if they doubted he was ever going to get to that point, they figured they should at least make sure he was safe), they’d both been eyeing the fox miraculous…

Thing was…

“You’re just going to tell him more of our secrets,” he complained, sighing.

Trixx crossed their paws over their chest. “Do you really have any other secrets you care about?”

They considered this for a minute, before Marinette clicked her tongue.

“Fine. Fine! Adrien, you’ll need to train him on his powers, your secondary powers are closer than mine. I’ll take up sparring to teach him a fight style that better matches his circus training.”

Adrien pouted and fell back until his head hit her lap. “You don’t think I was teaching him well enough? Because our fight styles and training were completely different? I’m wounded, M’lady. I’ll never recover.”

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He smiled. “I’ve been cured.”

She clicked her tongue.

Adrien smiled…

And then her watch beeped. He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her stomach. “Nooooo, don’t gooooooooooo.”

“I can’t just not go, Chaton.”

“Why nooooot? It would be so easy.”

She slowly peeled his arms off of her, smiling fondly. “Relax. I’ll be back later. Hang out with… with Di --... Nope. With the kid. Maybe train him a little in his powers or whatever.”

He laid on the floor with a pout as he watched her leave, and then looked down at the necklace in his hands.

Well, he supposed he might as well. What else could he do? Protect the city? Nah.

He walked to his kid’s room and rolled his eyes when he saw the kid standing with his ear pressed to the wall.

“Hello?”

Dick’s face reddened and he turned to Adrien with a bright smile. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Wow, he really was a good fit for Trixx.

He sighed and offered the necklace. “You’re not in trouble. C’mon, we’re going to teach you to use these powers.”

Trixx floated over to rest on Dick’s shoulder and Adrien waved him along to the training room.

Adrien held up a hand before walking to the window and quickly shutting the curtains.

He smiled as the kid transformed.

Adrien stretched lazily. “Right, on your back right now is a flute. It… works like a flute. You can play music with it if you want, and also hit people with it if you want. It also summons your power.”

Dick nodded and pulled it off his back. “What can I do?”

“You play a note and envision an illusion of some sort. The limit is just your imagination.”

“Like a Green Lantern?”

“I… kind of. You just have illusions, if you touch them they disappear.”

“That sucks.”

“I guess. Alright, so you’re probably going to have side-effects.”

He watched the kid’s eyes widen and rushed to explain: “It usually isn’t bad. Just weird. It’s why I like to sit on counters and why Mari’s always so cold. It also changes looks a little. Like… Mari has a lot more white in her eyes and my hair has those two little tufts that I have to gel down.”

Dick’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Okay. So… powers.”

“Yep.”

He pulled out his flute.

Adrien smiled. “Right, let’s start simple. The main thing you need is a clear vision. I’m going to close my eyes and you’re going to make something appear in the room. If you’re doing it right then it should appear real, if not then we’ll figure out what’s going wrong.”

He closed his eyes and waited for a few seconds after he heard the shrill note of the flute. Then he opened his eyes.

And came face to face with a giant, bright pink inflatable elephant.

“I…”

Dick grinned. “Think we should address the elephant in the room?”

He blinked once, then broke into a matching grin. “You’re what’s been missing from my life. Oh my kwami. That was beautiful.”

Then he actually went to inspect the elephant. It was pretty good. The lighting was a little off but it wasn’t plainly obvious it was fake, if he wasn’t paying attention he doubted he would’ve noticed. That made sense. Powers were usually pretty instinctual.

He nodded slowly. “Now try something that makes sound.”

Dick brought the flute to his lips and played another note.

He had expected the elephant to disappear and get replaced by something. Instead, it let out a high whine as the air in it slipped out of a new gash on its side.

Adrien smiled.

“Nice.” He sighed and let his smile lessen. Now for the reason they had thought the fox miraculous could be used for protection: “Okay. Make yourself disappear.”

He got a frown for that one. “Sorry?”

“It’s… you’re still a kid. You need to know how to cloak yourself so you don’t get hurt. We can’t really stop you from coming with us in an ethical way, but we need to at least make sure you’ll be okay if you come along.”

Dick frowned. “I thought you were going to let me help.”

“In three years. If we haven’t already solved this case yet. And if we think that you’re going to be able to handle it.”

“But --.”

“We were heroes at a young age. True. We weren’t ready for it, though, and we don’t want to screw up a kid in the same way we were screwed up. That’s the whole thing about having kids, we want you to have a better life than we did.”

The kid gave an annoyed expression before bringing his flute to his lips. With a shrill note, the annoyed face disappeared.

Adrien tipped his head from side to side as he considered this. He was pretty sure that he could sense something off, but he wasn’t sure if that was just his mind messing with him because he knew that Dick was there…

He walked towards where he’d last seen him to make sure and then stopped short when he realized what was off. His feet weren’t making any sound.

There wasn’t any sound at all, actually.

“You’ve done too much. You got rid of all sound, not just your own.”

Dick appeared, a grin on his face.

“This is boring. Can we make it into a game? Like hide-n-seek?”

Adrien hesitated, then shrugged. “Don’t see why not.” He brought his hands up to cover his eyes. “Thirty… twenty-nine…”

~

She hummed absently as she and Dick stretched to warm up.

She was a little jealous, if she was honest, he was way more flexible than she was even though he was out of practice and she wasn’t. She’d been stretching before this kid was even born. How dare he still be more flexible than her.

Still, she rolled to her feet and offered him a hand up.

Dick’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly and he did a backhandspring from the floor.

How the fuck?

But she wasn’t going to act like this was an amazing thing. She was already bitter enough about his flexibility, admitting that he was also better at gymnastics would be even worse.

Instead, she grinned. “Hey, kid, what should we call you?”

He thought for a minute, taking his flute out and twirling it in his hand like a baton. “Robin?”

“I…” She held up a finger to say ‘one minute’ and then pulled out her phone. After a quick google search to make sure they were talking about the same animal, she gave her kid a confused look. “You’re a fox.”

“Yes.”

“Robins are birds.”

“Yes.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. She really didn’t know why she asked a kid who called himself ‘Dick’ to name himself. Really, she should have expected this.

Marinette shrugged to herself. “Fine. I’m just gonna keep calling you ‘sweetie’.”

“Okay!” He stopped twirling his flute and pointed it at Marinette. “So, you’re going to teach me to use my circus training for fighting?”

She sighed and pulled out her cane, leaning against it. “Right. I’ll need to check to see how well you know the basics, first, though.”

Dick groaned. “I’m ready. I feel like I’ve been ready for ages!”

“I know, I know, but I need to make sure, okay?”

He gave her an annoyed look.

Marinette pursed her lips tightly. “Okay. Fine.” She dropped her cane. “Spar with me.”

Dick’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yep. You’ll have first swing and I won't get a weapon.”

True to her word, she let him have the first swing. She dodged and grabbed his arm, then pressed her foot to the middle of his back. He hit the ground with a groan. She pulled the flute from his hand and sent him a tired glare.

“You got lucky,” said Dick, his voice muffled against the floor.

She pulled him back to his feet. “No, you’re a child and I’ve been fighting for years. Like pretty much everyone else you’re going to fight. Which means that we can’t rush your training, okay? You have years before we let you into the field, if we do, so…”

He brushed himself off with a bitter expression.

“Fine. We drill basics.”

~

Riddler grinned, spinning around in his chair.

“Ladybug and Chat Noi --.” He stopped short, his eyes widening as they spotted something behind them. “What the heck? You guys brought a kid to this?”

He glanced behind himself and cringed lightly. He reached out and gently pulled Dick behind himself a little. Nygma had never been one for random attacks, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to make sure that this kid was safe.

And why had they brought him?

Marinette clicked her tongue once in annoyance. “Hey, sweetie, show the nice man your powers for a second.”

Dick brought his flute to his lips. With one high note he was gone.

Yep. They were really regretting giving him that miraculous right about then. They hadn’t even realized that he was coming along until Adrien had missed a jump and realized that his bones hadn’t audibly cracked like they usually did when he messed up like that.

He reappeared with a fox-like grin playing across his thin lips.

(Or maybe they just thought it was fox-like because he was currently dressed as a fox. Who knows.)

Riddler considered this for a minute, then nodded. “I understand now.”

Adrien sighed. “Yep.”

Marinette pulled out her yoyo and summoned a coloring book and some crayons. Dick beamed and plopped down on the floor to color.

The parents smiled fondly at their kid and then turned to Riddler.

“Now, you have news?” Adrien said.

“Good news and bad news.”

The adults looked at each other and gave tiny shrugs.

“Good news first,” said Marinette.

“Good news is that there’s only one person who supplies that specific acid.”

Adrien’s eyebrows knit together. That sounded good, but…

“Bad news is that she’s pretty popular. Over two-hundred customers popular.”

Ah. There it was.

Marinette covered Dick’s ears so she could curse.

Adrien, however, shrugged. “Do you have a list of her customers?”

Riddler nodded slowly. “Of course. I’ll forward it to you guys.”

“Thanks for the help, Nygma. See you in a few months.” With that, Marinette picked up Dick and held him to her hip.

“I’ll get you with the next one!”

“Mhmm. Sure.”

Adrien gave an apologetic smile and a friendly wave as he hurried out after his wife.

~

Marinette hummed absently as she pulled her jacket on, then froze up when she heard a gun click behind her head.

“Turn around. Slowly.”

She pulled a smile to her face and held her hands up in a kind of surrender, then turned around.

Wow. This man looked exactly like how gangsters looked in movies. She probably would have laughed if he wasn’t pointing a gun at her.

And, even with the gun pointed at her, she had to suppress a smile.

“Who are you?” He asked.

She frowned. “Shouldn’t I be asking that of you, sir? You’re the one attacking the random trapeze artist.”

“You’ve killed every single man I’ve sent in here to make sure everything was going to plan.”

“Maybe you should’ve sent a woman. We apparently get the job done better.”

“Who. Are. You?”

“Marinette Agreste, but I’m sure you knew that. Otherwise you wouldn’t know that I’ve killed ‘every single man you’ve sent here’.”

He scowled. “That wasn’t what I was asking and you know it.”

“Do I? Maybe you should be clearer,” she said. “Or, you could just tell me your name and I promise I would be much more compliant.”

The man seemed to consider this for a minute, his face tinged red with annoyance. She tried to push down the twinge of satisfaction. Even if this wasn’t Zucco, he at least had to be pretty high up and was likely the person who had ordered the goons to kill Dick’s parents. This bitch deserved all the hell she gave him, in her not-so-humble opinion.

“Giovanni,” he said carefully.

She smiled. “See? Was that so hard? Now, who am I...? I don’t know. I sometimes fight people. What else is there to say?”

He didn’t seem amused. “Why are you killing all my men?”

“I wouldn’t have to if they didn’t notice me noticing them every time. It’s getting very annoying. Send less observant people.”

Her eyes caught Kaalki’s. The kwami was hiding in a duffel bag that had been left open and she gave a tiny shrug to say go.

The man gave a scream as a portal sliced his hand off.

Marinette hummed absently and leaned down to pick up the gun. She pried the hand off of the gun and tossed it aside.

“WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK --.”

“I know, I know, it hurts, but could you be quieter?” She rubbed the side of her head. “Right, I have a few questions about Zucco.”

“He’d kill m --.”

“Yes. Yes, he would. But maybe you should concern yourself less with him, who has already made up his mind about killing you, and more about me, who’s still mulling it over.”

An hour later she stepped out of the changing room, humming as she tossed the gun back over her shoulder lazily.

“Haly?” She yelled, and smiled when his head popped out from his train care.

He looked stunned for a moment before he pulled himself together. “Yes?”

“I’m quitting. It’s been fun, though!”

She bit her lip as she strode out into the night.

Well, if she wasn’t already on Zucco’s radar she definitely would be now.

Greeeeaaaat.

~

It’s hard to look into people when you’re on the run from the mob.

They’d done everything they could think of. Marinette had withdrawn everything from their accounts, Adrien had altered all their appearances, Dick had... come along.

And it turns out tracking down 237 people is hard or something. Who knew.

You have to:

Figure out whether or not the person you’re after has pseuds. In order to do this you have to track their income patterns. This requires pretty high tech stuff, which they were generally trying to avoid because of the whole ‘mob out to get them’ thing.

Then, if they do have pseuds, you have to find all their assets. Then you have to go and check every single safehouse to see if it is, in fact, Zucco or someone working for him. It’s not fun. Most people in the mob are trained to not tell secrets no matter what, and getting to the point where you can get that information is… time consuming.

And they didn’t have time.

They glared at the remaining names. Dick was turning twelve tomorrow. They hadn’t even realized it because time was getting fuzzy again, but then they had come home to him hanging upside down from one of the lights on the ceiling and chanting about how close his birthday was.

After checking to make sure their kid hadn’t somehow gotten high or drunk, because what the heck, they had flown into a panic about how much work they still had to do.

“What’re the ethics of killing all 92 people tonight?” She asked, leaning back against her husband as he clicked through files.

“Even if we could, I’d say it’s probably frowned upon.”

She groaned and closed her eyes, then opened them again to glare at the papers in front of her. “How much you wanna bet that the very first one we choose after the kid joins us is going to be the right one?”

“Knowing our luck? That’s definitely going to happen.”

She gave a bitter laugh before pushing herself back up. “I’m going to break into a bakery to make a cake.”

“Cupcakes. You know he’s going to want to spend the day out in the field looking for answers, we might as well have food we can travel with.”

She clicked her tongue but nodded.

He fell back on the bed and glared at the list. He should have said they started at eighteen...

~

Well, at least it hadn’t been the first person that they’d looked into with Dick.

It had been the second.

After… ‘interogating’ the guy they’d found, they’d been given the name of this cruise ship and where it often docked. Then Dick had given them all cover so they could sneak on undetected.

And now night had hit. The three of them sat, perched on a railing as they observed the goons below them.

She watched Adrien send a wave before disappearing to take out the captain and destroy anything that could be used to contact land.

She turned to the kid next to her and reached out to ruffle his hair. “Ready, sweetie?”

Dick gave a slightly nervous smile before pulling out his flute.

“You’re only allowed to get involved if I’m dying, remember?”

He nodded, though she got the feeling that the kid wasn’t listening. Or, rather, he was listening and just opting not to take the words to heart.

She clicked her tongue once. Then she began walking along the outer edges of the ship, Dick trailing along behind her. She twirled her yoyo absently. They needed to get to the private quarters, as she was pretty sure that Zucco wouldn’t be anywhere else (he sent people out to do all his work, there was no way he was doing any work on his ship).

Then she heard laughter.

She looked up and scowled at the three henchmen who were leaning over the side of the railing above them.

“Oh my god, Ladybug has a kid!”

Her yoyo came to a stop. “Hilarious, I know.”

“Kinda! I mean the most deadly vigilantes in the world have a little kid trailing around like a lost puppy! That’s so good!”

She pressed her lips together tightly. “Mhmm. Please, tell me more...”

“Gonna say ‘or else’? Or else what? You’re going to change our diapers?”

She nodded slowly, then turned to Dick. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. She opted to ignore the way the three roared with laughter above her at the action, instead concentrating on him.

“Sweetie, I want you to cover your eyes for a second, please. I’ll tell you when you can look again, okay?”

He nodded and brought his hands to his eyes.

She wheeled on the criminals, whose laughter was quickly dying.

“Oops,” said one of them, his voice so quiet she’d barely heard it.

But she did. And she fought off some laughter of her own. “‘Oops’ is right.”

Three minutes later, she smiled and pulled Dick’s hands away from his eyes.

“Hey, sweetie, how’re you feeling?”

He glanced behind her and she winced, expecting him to become horrified, but then he suddenly tossed his flute.

There was a satisfying ‘thunk’ as it made contact with the guy’s head and he fell over the side.

Marinette looked at Dick and gave him a tiny smile. He beamed in return.

“Thanks for the save.”

“No problem.”

She tossed her yoyo and recovered his flute for him, then took his hand. She led her kid through the ship.

~

When he caught up with them, Adrien smiled and rested a hand over the top of the kid’s head. “I found out where the private quarters are.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Follow me.”

The three of them went along in silence. Whenever they passed someone they’d casually knock them over the side. They might live that way.

But probably not.

Still, it was relatively easy.

They walked along the private quarters, poking their head in doors and then closing them.

Eventually, they came to the most grandiose-looking cabin. Really, they should have checked it first, but whatever. Marinette, Adrien, and Dick all gave each other wary looks before Adrien kicked the door open.

The poor guy had been asleep. Sucks.

Zucco looked up slowly and then gasped, reaching under his pillow and pulling out a gun.

Ah. Now that sucks for them.

Dick gave a high-pitched whine.

Marinette and Adrien instantly reached for Dick to push him behind them, only to stop short when their hands passed through clean air. They turned to look, confused expressions on their faces, only to find that the kid was gone.

Uh…

They frowned slightly and looked around. Their faces drained of color when they found their way back to where Zucco was.

Or, rather, had been. Because he was missing, too.

Marinette cursed beside him and Adrien felt like punching a wall. Dick hadn’t been making that noise because he was scared, he’d been making that noise because he’d been creating an illusion.

They had to stop Dick before he did something he would regret.

Their eyes searched the room desperately, their ears strained. There had to be something off. Dick and Zucco hadn’t left, Marinette and Adrien were covering too much of the door for both of them to squeeze past without the illusion breaking, so they were still in the cabin.

Marinette pursed her lips tightly and pulled the door shut, then lopped off the doorknob with her yoyo.

Adrien nodded and they began to shuffle through the room.

It was needlessly huge, but there was a lot of stuff in it. A bed, a mostly untouched kitchen area, a bathroom with a jacuzzi, a possibly real treasure chest, a vanity…

He knocked his staff against things absently. It should reveal illusions…

Where was this kid?

He kicked some jewelry on the floor in irritation and then blinked when they hit the wall nearby without a sound.

Wait a minute…

He swung his staff in a large circle around him and couldn’t help but wince when he hit something that he couldn’t see. The illusion shattered and Dick groaned in pain as he stumbled off of Zucco, holding his side where Adrien had hit him.

But, for once, Adrien wasn’t looking at the kid. His eyes found their way to the floor, where Zucco had curled up. He was beaten and bloody, bruises starting to form on his pale skin.

“Robin…” He whispered, looking at Dick.

Dick was crying, the blunt end of his flute bloodied.

Adrien walked over and carefully pulled the flute from his hands and then drew him into his chest. “You can’t kill him.”

“But --!”

“No buts.” Marinette gave Zucco a kick to the head to make sure he was down before joining the hug.

“But you kill people!”

“And we’re also adults. When you’re an adult you can kill people, too.”

“M’lady…”

She winced a little. “Yeah, I hear it. But… anyways, sweetie, we can’t let a kid kill anyone. Killing… it messes with you. We don’t want that life for you.”

Adrien sighed. “You’re a kid. You can’t kill someone, it’s not good for your psyche. Leave that kind of thing to us.”

Dick took a shaky breath, and then nodded.

They’d been right to not want to include him in this. Vigilantism wasn’t healthy for kids.

And they especially shouldn’t have brought Dick along for this part, they should have expected that something like this would happen. He was too close to the case.

He swallowed thickly and hugged him closer.

Marinette pulled away carefully. She hummed, grabbing Zucco by the back of his nightshirt and dragging him away.

He gently rubbed circle’s into the kid’s back. “You want some ice cream? I think there’s still some at home…”

Dick giggled a little. “That ice cream is so expired.”

“You don’t know that!”

“It’s been, like, three years.”

Adrien sighed. “Okay, maybe, but hush.”

He pulled away slightly from the kid and wiped some stray tears from his cheeks.

“Want to go home anyways?”

Dick smiled faintly and nodded.

~

She dropped back on the bed and smiled as she curled in the blankets. The night had been… interesting… but at least she was home now.

She felt tiny hands wrap around her and her smile widened as she felt a face bury itself in her stomach.

But then her smile lessened. She slowly combed her fingers through the kid’s hair.

“I need your miraculous back, sweetie.”

“No. I want to keep doing it.”

She gave Adrien a pleading look and he sighed, slipping into bed and wrapping his arms around them. “She’s right. We don’t want —.”

“And what about what I want?”

It definitely wasn’t an angle they’d considered. They’d been very concerned about the kid ending up like them (they had given up on trying to fix themselves a long time ago, but they were still self aware of the fact that they didn’t cope healthily). But… what if they were too late? The kid had already been exhibiting signs of their bad coping mechanisms, had been since the start, had they accidentally encouraged it just by being around him?

She didn’t know.

What she did know, though, was that they’d messed up by letting him come along. He’d had a taste of the adrenaline, and there was no going back.

She flinched. “I… are you sure?”

Dick nodded against her stomach. “I want to help people.”

She bit her lip. Dick was one of those kids that would sneak out and do it anyways, the least they could do was make sure he was safe.

Adrien seemed to come to the same conclusion, because he sighed again and squeezed them both tighter.

“As long as you make sure to always be with one of us while you’re doing vigilante work…” he said reluctantly.

“I can do that.”

Oh, thank kwami. 

She smiled and ruffled his hair. “I guess it would be kind of cool to have a whole family of vigilantes...”

~~~

As it turns out, I am unable to write pure fluff. It eludes me.

On the other hand, I managed a Christmas update!! Go me!!

~

Taglist

@i-am-ironic @nathleigh @mialuvscats @golden-promises @sassakitty @deathwishy @toodaloo-kangaroo

[hlupdate]

“Feeling good in my skin/ I just keep on dancing,” Harry Styles sings in his latest single, “Treat People With Kindness.” And in the song’s exuberant music video -- which has garnered 17 million YouTube views and counting since its debut on New Year’s Day -- he does just that: Wearing a sequined jacket and bow tie, he chassés, spins and flutters jazz hands like an MGM musical star (with a little help from his equally debonair partner, Fleabag’s Phoebe Waller-Bridge).

Styles shot the video in early 2019 after several weeks of training with choreographer Paul Roberts, a collaborator since his One Direction days. “I think somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this could be something special,” says Roberts, a veteran stage director and choreographer who’s worked on videos and tours for the likes of Sam Smith, Katy Perry, Diana Ross, and the Spice Girls (their Spiceworld stadium tour).

Watching the explosive fan reaction to Styles’s little known dance talents -- including from the Spice Girls, who've “sent lovely messages" about the video -- Roberts says it seems like "Treat People With Kindness" arrived at the precise right moment. “Most people’s comments are, ‘I’ve not felt that happy for three and a half minutes in a long time,’ or ‘I smiled from ear to ear the whole way through.’ It’s a positive light.”

He spoke to Billboard about Styles’ intensive training process -- and why he wouldn’t be surprised to see him dancing onstage again.

There’s been one pretty overwhelming reaction to this video: “This is the guy who was in the group that insisted they couldn’t dance?!” Did you expect this kind of reaction to Harry dancing?

I’ve been with Harry for 10 years: I was with the One Direction boys from the beginning the whole way through their career before they took the hiatus, and they always made a very conscious decision that they didn’t want choreography as part of their brand -- but they did want a kind of disheveled organization in order to allow the cameras and the lighting to stand a chance in terms of presenting them in the best manner possible.

What was very evident to me was that all five of them, and then it obviously became four, they’ve all got their own magic. The only time I’ve experienced that was when I worked with the Spice Girls. I always knew that they had special skills aside from what they were in One Direction, whether it was movement, songwriting, being able to handle the business side of things. For such young lads they were very astute and very decisive.  So, getting together with Harry -- he’s a bit of an alchemist, is Harry. Everything he turns his hand to turns to gold.

Where did the initial dance-centric concept come from?

Harry and the directors, Ben and Gabe [Turner], sent me a video link to the Nicholas Brothers scene from Stormy Weather and Harry asked me, "How long do you think it would take to dance like this?" I was like, "OK, are you being serious?" "Yeah, I’m being serious."

That is probably one of the most standout dance sequences ever captured on film -- so I knew we were aiming high. I said, "Why don’t we go into a studio and let’s workshop some choreography, some moves, some short sequences, and see what your ability is, see how we can tailor this to make you look the best you can possibly look." Obviously it would take some investment in terms of rehearsal and commitment, I told him it would be mentally and physically exhausting, but I thought, "My God yeah, let’s do it; this will be an adventure."

How long did the whole process take?

We started in mid-January 2019, and we rehearsed and workshopped for about four to five weeks before the shoot, every day. Both Harry and Phoebe had other things going on, so, for instance, Phoebe was working on the new Bond movie in Canada, so I sent my assistant to Canada to work with her. I stayed in the U.K. with Harry, and then we went to L.A. where Harry shot two more videos, for “Watermelon Sugar” and “Falling.”

At the end of the “Watermelon Sugar” shoot, he wrapped, got in his car, came to the dance studio and we rehearsed into the night. Knowing how short a time you sometimes get with artists even for really big performances, I thought the rehearsals would dilute and we’d lose momentum, but both Phoebe and Harry were so committed.

What was the process in the studio like with Harry? We didn’t even use his [vocal] track to begin with -- we used different big band songs, some contemporary alternative music. It was just about finding his [movement] language first and foremost.  Then we developed the choreography and sent it to the directors, who gave us feedback. We enhanced the work a bit more, and then once we had some really solid sequences, Ben and Gabe storyboarded the scenes against the timeline of the music.

At this point Harry and Phoebe were still working separately, and then we joined forces in London, where we really started to refine these sequences of choreography we’d developed, trying to find the finesse and the style, almost making sense of the movement for them so they felt they had a dancer’s way of working the movement through the body. You’ve worked with a wide variety of artists, many of whom aren’t dancers first. How do you find, as you put it, the “language” of movement that makes sense for each of them as individuals?

I think the general answer is really communicating -- listening and understanding what the artist’s desire is. And also collaborating, so you don’t get too lost in yourself as a choreographer. What looks good on you might not transcend to the artist, or even necessarily the dancers.

With Harry, what was important within the language of the choreography was that it felt joyful and had personality. Him and Phoebe, with the work she’s done with Fleabag, you associate them and what they do with a sense of style, a real confidence, but at the heart of it it’s entertainment. And with the amount of time and budget we had, which was such a luxury in this day and age, we wanted to do something that pushed both of them out of their comfort zones. We tried to make it as athletic as possible but without compromising them as artists and becoming too comedic. We wanted it to be a bit quaint and cute in places, but we definitely didn’t want it to be thought of as nonsensical or silly.

Harry’s movement in the video is so crisp and precise, even his hands and arm extension look very dancerly. Did that come through a lot of specific work with you? As a songwriter and artist, for Harry it’s about detail, about pushing yourself to be the best. He’s always got questions: "Why are we doing that? Should we be doing this?" We got to a point during the rehearsal period where I brought in a ballet teacher, really to just get Harry and Phoebe to open themselves up from behind their shoulder blades, have an idea of extension, the lines that extend from your center all the way to the tip of your finger. I’d be saying, “Your arms Harry, your arm line!” Asking him to push his shoulders down, lift his carriage up, extend through his breast. And when he hit those lines, he’d be like, “Oh yeah, that feels different.” It’s funny: We spent a couple days apart -- he had to go off and do a gig somewhere -- and I was like, “I hope you’re rehearsing when you’ve got some downtime, dude!” And he sent me a picture in the gym with his arms in the most beautiful balletic arm line! I was like, "Yes, by George, you’ve got it!" Besides the Nicholas Brothers, did you have any particular dance references in mind for the feel of the choreography? I just delved into the MGM archives. Obviously [Fred] Astaire and [Gene] Kelly, the two greats -- especially with Astaire, we loved how sometimes it seems so effortless yet a bit throwaway, not totally totally perfect always.  We enjoyed the moments from him of “I’ll just do a bit of this,” “I’ll just walk off camera left,” the dropping in and out of movement.  We loved the duet “Moses Supposes” from Singin’ in the Rain, for Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor -- we loved the camaraderie between them, which felt a bit goofball at times, and just that wry smile, the look to the left, knowing your partner is there and has got your back. It feels fizzy, it feels joyful.

And yes, there was a massive core of MGM-ism, but at the same time an absolute huge dollop of Harry-and-Phoebe-ism. It was important to us to feel a bit more contemporary, so again we stay true to Harry and Phoebe as artists. Has Harry indicated any interest in dancing more going forward?

We had a conversation back at the end of the summer about how much we enjoyed the process, and I know he was doing another project where choreography was involved, so we were just talking about it and how he felt. Coming from where he came from to what he was about to do, he felt he could be pushed even further. I don’t know if he got the bug, or if it’s just the way he is as a person, very inquisitive and wanting to keep elevating himself. There’s now been some talk on social media that it can’t be long before Harry does Broadway. What do you think?

I mean, I think with Harry Styles, anything is possible, is it not? I mean, I’m sure because he’s tasted the dance, he’ll inject that along the line in his career. It won’t necessarily be out-and-out dancing, but I guess it’s a bit like Bowie used to do, isn’t it? It’s the showmanship and presentation of the performance. Who knows? He’s just so open-minded and open-hearted — and because he’s so open it allows the universe to come back at him and he’s able to do anything he sets his mind to.  

[cafedanslanuit]

it was only a kiss || tamaki x mirio

band!au & college!au

summary; college student tamaki is convinced by a friend to join her band. while initially the thought of standing in front of strangers terrified him to the core, he was quickly engulfed by the stage’s power to transform himself into someone else. when mirio and nejire found out and insisted to attend their next gig, there was no doubt in tamaki’s mind it was a bad idea. he just didn’t know how bad it could get.

songs featured; when you were young + mr brightside // the killers

notes; this prompt was made by tiktok user @reverserogue. tagging @inloveinc​ because we love tamaki + eyeliner

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。

The stage is powerful. It had enough strength to make a usually restrained and fearful college student play his favourite instrument without crumbling into the fear and anxiety that was present in his daily life. While it did help that the lights prevented him to see anyone past the first row, Tamaki had to admit maybe Nejire's friend, Yui, had been right about him being a good fit for her band. He had never felt as confident as he did onstage, never felt as good about himself as he had the past few months.

Underground bars were Yui's favourite place to play. Tamaki was against the idea as soon as he listened to her, but after visiting the place a couple of times before they played, he discovered it was actually a good place for him. Most of the attendees were people who didn't know him since they attended another college. He wasn't Amajiki Tamaki, that creepy dude that couldn't form two sentences together, he was just the guitar player to Yui's band, a random guy who mostly hung out with the other band members and would enjoy an occasional free beer sent by their fans.

Soon, they were getting gigs every week. Sometimes they gave them money, sometimes it would be free drinks. It really didn't matter for him. Honestly, he would have done it for free. He never thought it would be so freeing to let himself be someone else, at least for a couple of nights a week. The band success propelled Yui to invite Mirio and Nejire to their next show.

To say Tamaki wasn't so keen on the idea was an understatement. He had gotten used to becoming this new persona on stage, giving his all to the blurry faces that chanted the songs they played. How did his two childhood friends would fit in his new safe world? Before he could finish listing all the valid reasons it would be a bad idea, both Mirio and Nejire were taking note on when and where the band's next gig would be.

Saturday's night came quicker that Tamaki would have wanted and once again they were back at the now known bar, setting their instruments on stage. Iruka, the second guitar and Yui's brother was connecting the wires of the guitars and bass to the amplifiers while Akito, the bass player and Iruka’s boyfriend was tunning his instrument.

"This feels weird," Tamaki winced, helping Yui carry her drums on stage.

"C'mon, they've known you your whole life. It's fair they can also see this amazing and confident dude you become onstage."

"I- I don't know about that," he shrugged.

"It's going to be fine," she assured her. "Go splash some cold water on your face. We'll start in five."

Tamaki obliged and walked to the bathroom. It was badly lit and filled with an unpleasant smell that made him scrunch his nose. Dragging his feet, he approached the sink and splashed water on his face. He looked at his reflection, ignoring the writings in indelible ink written around. He looked paler than usual. Maybe it would be better to tell Yui that he couldn't play tonight. The girl's sad face appeared in his mind and he shook his head, trying to get rid of those thoughts. The knowledge he would be sabotaging her band if the main guitarrist just disappeared out of the blue was the only thing stopping him from running away. Tamaki splashed water one more time against his face and took a deep breath.

The bathroom door opened with a loud bang, making Tamaki turn around in surprise. He visibly relaxed when he recognized Mirio. The door shut down again, dulling the music from the bar. Once Mirio spotted Tamaki, he smiled brightly and walked to him, his legs a little wobbly.

"Tamaki!" Mirio yelled, cheeks bright red. He put a hand on Tamaki's shoulder for support, a giggle escaping from his lips. "I had never seen you wearing a leather jacket before and… is that eyeliner? You look cool, man."

"Yui's brother, Iruka," Tamaki explained with a small shrug. The smell of alcohol in his friend’s breath confirmed his earlier suspicions. "Are you drunk?"

Mirio looked around while pursing his lips as if making sure no one was listening to them.

"... Maybe," he whispered.

"Maybe? Y-you can't even walk a straight, I--"

His words were cut off by Mirio's lips pressing against their own. Tamaki couldn't help but let out a small yelp, his arms shooting up to the sides of his chest. After pulling away for a second, Mirio leaned in once more and kissed his bottom lip as softly as he could. Keeping his blue eyes fixed on his friend’s mouth, he gently brushed his parted lips against his, his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity.

Tamaki felt his legs were going to give out at any moment, the alcohol in the man’s breath in front of him intoxicating him as if he had drunk himself. He was in such a state of shock he didn’t realize he hadn’t kissed him back until he felt the tip of Mirio’s tongue grazing his lower lip. Experimentally, he kissed his friend’s upper lip, trying not to overthink the situation they were in. He felt Mirio smile and take some air, but before he could say anything, the door opened. Mirio pulled away rapidly, setting his hands on the sink next to the one Tamaki has been using. Loud noise from the bar filled the bathroom again, making Tamaki feel as if he was just waking up for dream.

“Hey, we’re waiting for you,” Akito reminded him, tilting his head towards the door. He didn't seem to have noticed anything, or at least pretended he didn't. “C’mon.”

Tamaki nodded, shooting a quick glance to Mirio, who was now looking at his reflection in the mirror, trying to fix his hair. What the hell had just happened? Should he say something? Could he say anything about a situation he couldn't even begin to understand?

Noticing Akito was still impatiently waiting for him at the door, Tamaki decided to follow him to the stage, where Yui had a stern expression on her face, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“The fuck, dude? I thought you had died in there."

Kind of, he thought.

“S-sorry,” Tamaki muttered, picking up his guitar.

“We’re doing ‘When we were young’ to start," she instructed him as she took her place behind the drums.

“The Killers?”

“I told you it was Nostalgia Night today. You read the setlist I emailed you last night, right?” Yui asked, raising her eyebrow.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “I’m a little out of it. I- I do remember the setlist, sorry”.

Yui’s expression fell a little. “Are you okay? Is it because Mirio and Nejire are here?”

“Yes,” Tamaki lied. Yui sighed and looked to the people gathered in front of the small stage. Mirio was chatting with Nejire happily, both of them holding drinks and smiling.

“Look, I'm sorry I didn't ask you before inviting them. But they’ve been your friends far longer than they have been mine. I’m sure they’ll be proud of you. Once you conquer this night, nothing can ever stop you again, okay?” she said, a small smile on her face. Taking a deep breath, Tamaki nodded. “Great! Now, help me bring the microphone closer to my drums, I’m singing this one."

A couple of minutes later, after a short introduction of the band, Yui tilted her head to Tamaki, who strummed his guitar, marking the beginning of the song.

You sit there in your heartache

Waiting on some beautiful boy to

To save you from your old ways

Yui’s voice had the perfect combination of roughness and strength that fit the rock songs they usually played. Even if Iruka usually did the singing, for the last month Yui had insisted they all should have a go at it.

Tamaki looked at the audience, his face rising in heat when he realized both his friends were on the first row, their big eyes set on him. He immediately lookd away. Would he feel as afraid as he did if Mirio hadn’t just kissed him not even an hour ago? His eyes darted away, looking at the rest of the band. For several tears, he had done the best he could to hide the feelings that had been tormenting him about his friend , since he knew there was no way they were reciprocated. Had he been far less sneaky as he thought he was? Had Mirio somehow discovered it? The wildest theories his brain came up with still couldn’t help him understand why would Mirio kiss him if he didn’t feel anything for him. Could he really...? Was this real?

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus

But he talks like a gentleman

Like you imagined when you were young

Tamaki looked once again at his friends, the words sang by Yui resonating in his head as he took notice in how bright Mirio’s smile was. He would flat out lie if he said that he never, not even in the solitude of his dorm room, had wondered what it would be to kiss him. He also hated the fact his fantasies hadn’t come close to what he had just experienced. The softness and curiosity of his friend’s movements had him smiling once more, not being able to refrain himself.

The song came to an end with a round of cheers from the crowd. Tamaki smiled softly, thankful he hadn’t messed up even if his mind was somewhere else. They played a couple of more songs, easing Tamaki more and more into the comfortable state he was always at when he performed on stage. Once he played the final chord, he looked back at Yui, waiting for her sign to play the next song but instead, she waved at him, calling him over. He furrowed his eyebrows and obliged, walking to the drums.

“See? This is going great!” she grinned, taking a swig of her water bottle. “You wanna try that song we were rehearsing the other day? The one you sang?”

“Y-you’re sure?” he asked, twisting his mouth. Yui nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah! It sounds great when you do it. C’mon, take the mic”

Iruka and Akito saw Tamaki placing the mic stand in front of him and looked over at Yui, who raised her thumbs at them. Knowing which song was next, they left their drinks on the floor and placed their hands on their instruments once more. Once everyone was ready, Tamaki began playing the well-known riff, the band quickly following him.

Coming out of my cage

And I've been doing just fine

The feeling of fullness music gave him was something he had never experienced before. If he had known live music had such an empowering effect on him, he would have tried it long ago. He only ever played around with his guitar when he thought no one was looking, so he was really lucky Yui had ended up listening to him playi. They both had been invited to a pool party, but Tamaki had quickly left the crowd and started walking around the house. He found a guitar in one of the rooms and started idly strumming some chords, trying to pass the time until Nejire and Mirio wanted to return to the dorms. Yui had been wandering around the house as well when she heard him, and later made it her life mission to get him to meet Iruka and Akito so he could be a part of her new band.

It started out with a kiss

How did it end up like this?

Tamaki laughed under his breath when the crowd chanted the next line and turned his head at them, wanting to keep this memory forever. His wish was cruelly granted when the very first image that greeted him was Mirio kissing someone else. She had long, black, wavy hair falling down her back and it didn’t look like anyone Tamaki had seen at their college before, but that didn’t stop his friend from pulling her even tighter against his body.

Muscle memory is a funny thing. Even when your mind is no longer there, music triggers a part of your brain that makes your body play your instrument perfectly if you’ve rehearsed long enough. He wished he could look anywhere but at this random girl circling his friend’s neck with her arms as she kissed him. Tamaki could no longer hear the music around him or even know if he was still breathing. There was only one thing in his mind and the image of it was breaking him into a million pieces.

And I just can't look, it's killing me

And taking control

Tamaki looked over at Nejire, who was happily oblivious to her friend’s state as she danced to the music. He turned to the side once more, facing Iruka and Akito. The crowd sang at the top of their lungs and he doubted whether they could listen to his voice anymore. He refused to look at the crowd again, knowing what was happening right in front of him. Fuck, how did things get so complicated? He had been just fine denying his feelings all those years, not paying attention to them, confident there was no way Mirio would look at him in a different way, and not only had he been proved wrong, but in a dramatically short span of time the timid hope that had grown in his heart has been stomped in the most cruel way. If only his feelings had been crushed, then why did his chest hurt so much?

“How did it end up like this?” he sang, letting out an amused, dry laugh. “It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss.”

How he wished he could get his beating heart to understand just that. It had been nothing more than a drunk kiss. And while maybe that meant the kiss with the girl was also just a drunk kiss, it didn’t make him feel any better. In fact, it only managed to tore his crumbled heart a bit more.

The song ended and Tamaki would be lying if he said he remembered which songs they played next. He could vaguely recall Iruka taking the mic stand from him and handing it to Akito. Considering Yui’s big smile after their set was done, he knew he hadn’t messed up but still couldn’t find comfort in it. He couldn’t take his mind off of the image of Mirio kissing that girl, the taste of alcohol on Mirio’s lips as he kissed him in the bathroom and his bright, bright smile as he looked up to him onstage.

The band sat on the bar as they were given free beer as payment for their performance. Nejire sat with them, congratulating them for their set, saying how much she loved it and that she was definitely going to attend their next gig. Mirio was nowhere to be seen but Tamaki didn’t comment on it. He didn’t even want to check if the girl he had seen him with was still around. When Yui asked Nejire where did Mirio go, she excused him saying he had been feeling a bit under the weather and had hailed a cab back to the dorms. Tamaki couldn’t help but snort.

“Told you it was going to be a great night,” Yui smiled, elbowing him playfully. Tamaki nodded and took another swig of his beer.

[psycho-slytherin]

Sinner

In which Romeo hates Juliet, but not as much as Juliet hates Romeo.

Pairing: Actor!Jimin x Reader

Genre: fluff; drama; enemies to idiots to lovers

Warnings: Swearing, Old English

WC: this was gonna be a drabble 5k

A/N: A happy, happy, happy birthday to my most beautifullest darlingest @chimchimsauce. Congrats! I hope you have a fantastic day and ily!!! <3

|mlist|

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief. See how she leans her cheek upon her hand– Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek!”

You look out into the darkness, sighing. “Ay, me.”’

“She speaks. Oh, speak again, bright angel!”

“Romeo, Romeo…” you wring your hands. “Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father, and refuse thy name. Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love–” your voice catches. “And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.”

~~~

“Some shall be pardoned, and some shall be punished. For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.”

You hold your breath, waiting in the wings. There’s a pause, silence, before…

Thunderous applause rings through the theater. You peek around the curtain and see some audience members already on their feet. Yes! The applause rises in volume by the end of curtain call, when you and your Romeo step back onstage to bow once, twice, give credit to the orchestra, bow again, and done. 

“Did you see that?” Hoseok, who plays Mercutio, whoops before chugging the rest of his beer. “Standing ovation, bitches, for a touring production! That’s what I’m talkin’ about!”

You smile from the corner of the green room. You’re happy onstage, but you can’t help but let your natural shyness come into play when you’re back to playing… well, yourself.

“Let’s hear it for the stars of our show– Juliet and Romeo!” Momo, the costume designer and your best friend on tour, nudges you forward. Across the room, Hoseok is doing the same to your Romeo. Oy vey.

You press your lips together. “Hello, Jimin.”

“Y/n.” 

“Damn, not even a greeting?”

“I’d rather save my breath for the stage.”

You feel the deep, familiar coil of rage in your stomach begin to tighten. This guy… “I’m sure pretending you have a heart saps most of of your strength.”

“At least I can pretend decently, since it’s my job. What’s yours?”

“Hey, hey, let’s keep it civil.” Hoseok moves in between you two. “Alike in dignity, right? It’s Friday night, there’s no matinee tomorrow… let’s party like it’s 1391!”

The cast and crew cheer as they load into multiple SUVs, surely headed for the nearest bar.

“You sure you don’t want to go?” Momo asks, poking your arm as the cars leave. 

“And spend more time than I have to with a certain coworker?” You wrinkle your nose, grabbing your things from your locker. You’ve already changed back into your civilian outfit, a longsleeved shirt tucked into loose pants. “I’ll pass.” 

“Don’t let him ruin your night, y/n. He’s the devil, and he’s got an ego as big as his dick is small.”

You snort. “Classy.”

“Like, okay, let’s be honest, he is hot.”

That, you can’t deny. “But he knows it, which makes him more of an annoyance. Ever since I landed this role he’s been so rude and entitled!”

“It’s ‘cause he thinks he’s such a panty-dropper, and how dare you not sleep with him.” Momo giggles. “I’ll bet you money that he doesn’t spend tonight alone.”

You feel a pang in your chest at the idea of Jimin spending the night with some faceless beauty. God, you hate him. “How come Casanova Montague is getting more action than me?”

“I’ll tell you how– he’s at the bar right now, meeting and seducing people. He’s playing Romeo, the flirt that makes the first move. Now stop being shy little Juliet, go out, and get some!” Momo strides to the costume closet and pulls out a leather… thing.

“What’s that?”

Your friend huffs. “It’s a dress. And it’s your ticket to showing up Park Jimin tonight.”

You laugh, examining the outfit. “Not only did I say I wasn’t going out, this probably doesn’t fit me, and who says I care about showing up Jimin?”

“Not only are you friends with the resident fashion guru, but you also deserve a fun night out! All you’ve done this tour is get through the show and head to the hotel. Which means the only guy you’ve kissed for two months is a prettyboi with his head so far up his ass that his headvoice is his belt.” Momo thrusts the leather number at you. “Now go change. I don’t care what demons I have to summon to have this dress fit you, we’ll make it happen.”

~~~

“Why did I agree to this?” You say through a forced smile, your back to the wall. You tug at the hem of the dress, attempting to cover more of your thighs. You’ve worn revealing costumes onstage before, sure, but that’s not you.

“You never really agreed, actually, you’re just too weak to fight me.”

“You said a bar, Momo, this is a club. People are dancing! I can’t dance!”

“I can’t believe I need to tell a professional actress to let loose and have fun. I hear wild stories about your cast parties all the time!” Momo looks effortlessly flawless in a loose red top and shorts, and she actually seems comfortable in the loud, warm, energetic setting.

“Y/n’s never been to our troupe’s cast parties,” Yoongi, the cast’s Benvolio, approaches and slings an arm around you. You and Yoongi have always had good banter, and at first you mistook his wisecracking for flirting. Now you know better.

“Because I want to be able to walk the next day, maybe?” You laugh, stealing his beanie. Or because Jimin is there.

“It’s an important bonding ritual!”

“Getting drunk and high with Park Jimin is the last thing I’d ever want to do,” you announce dryly. 

“Don’t worry, Sunshine.” Even with the blaring music, you hear his voice clearly. “It’s not on my list of priorities either.”

You jump, seeing your costar approach. “Jimin!”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “No, please, go back to talking about me. I was so invested.”

You clench your jaw in frustration and Yoongi chuckles nervously. “That’s my cue, ladies and gents. Momo, care to get a drink?”

Momo looks from you to Jimin with worried eyes and you nod at her– you’ve never needed help dealing with Park Jimin. 

The two leave and, despite the crowded club, it feels as though you and Jimin are alone. You hate to admit it, but in his civilian clothes he looks really, really hot. 

“Complaining about me behind my back? That’s really mature, y/n.” Jimin runs his hands through shiny black hair, his tight shirt straining to accommodate muscles that you’ve never noticed through the Romeo costume.

“Would you rather I complain to your face? Because that I wouldn’t mind.”

“I’d rather you keep your pretty mouth shut offstage– maybe onstage too, so I don’t have to spend half my performance making up for yours.”

The familiar fury that Jimin always manages to trigger tinges your vision red. You stomp closer to him, your heeled boots bringing you to eye level with Jimin, your blood boiling beneath your skin. “Why do you hate me so much? I earned this role. I do the work. I get results. You don’t do anything besides stand there and look good. You barely deserve to be an understudy!”

Jimin mirrors your movement, drawing closer to you before smirking. You’re almost nose to nose, so close you can feel his breath on your lips, and you almost shiver when he speaks. “You think I look good?”

“You– ugh!” You’re so tempted to wind up and punch the guy but you can’t afford to get in trouble. “The only one who thinks you’re good-looking is you, Jimin, and given that your personality archetype is ‘Entitled Swine’ you’re goddamn lucky you’ve got that going for you.”

“Ooh, perfect Juliet can swear.”

“Dumbass Romeo can leave.”

“At least this dumbass can dance.” With that, Jimin turns on his heel and makes his way to the crowded dance floor before stopping and looking back at you over his shoulder. “Admiring the view? Or you just hate to admit that you can’t dance?”

A very small voice in your psyche pipes up: Is he trying to reverse-psychology me into dancing in order to make fun of me?

Nah, he wouldn’t be that conniving or immature. You’re sure Jimin is happy just rubbing your nose in your skills… or lack thereof.

Hey, just because you said you can’t dance doesn’t give him the right to make fun of you. You’re half tempted to follow him onto the dance floor, join the mass of sweaty, tipsy, hormonal bodies… and just act like you belong.

But that’s not you. You glare at Jimin before moving to find Momo. You encounter her at the bar, along with Yoongi and Hoseok. Namjoon, who plays Lord Capulet, is there as well, and his eyes light up when he sees you. “Hey, our star decided to join us for once!”

“Y’all are making me feel like I live under a rock,” you complain. “I just like sleep.” Or, you’re just trying to avoid Jimin as much as possible.

“Then girl, you picked the wrong career. Why do you even do stage plays if you’re so uptight?” Hoseok is clearly well on his way to drunk, not that he needs alcohol to speak his mind.

“I-I-” You look down, embarrassed. “It’s different when I’m acting. I’m not uptight on stage. I just get nervous when I’m being myself, I guess.”

Momo slams back a shot. “That’s it!” she gasps, her face contorting as the liquor sears her throat. “That’s how you can loosen up tonight. Act!”

You look down at the foreign leather dress. It does feel like you’re already wearing a costume. 

“Hey, I can get behind that! Y/n, be someone else for the night!” Yoongi winks. “Someone confident!”

“Someone exciting!” Namjoon chimes in.

Momo grins. “I’d say someone sexy, but you’ve got that down. Go, channel Romeo for a bit.”

“But, uh… how do I start?”

Yoongi gets a mischievous gleam in his eye. “By dancing.”

You look over. The dance floor is dimly lit, save for a multicolored pulsing light show. Jimin is somewhere on that floor, probably looking as comfortable as he does onstage.

“Momo, come with me?” You ask desperately. You’ll do this, but you don’t want to be without backup.

“Of course! But first, a round of shots. And two for my girl here! A toast to y/n, and whoever she’ll become!”

“Oh, I don’t like drinking,” you say.

“Yeah, but your new persona does!” Momo replies, and you laugh. Surrounded by your coworkers, your friends, you feel more comfortable than before. As you relent, downing shots in quick succession, you feel… different. Confident. The alcohol wouldn’t affect you so quickly, right? When you rise, you stand straighter, at last at home in the tight leather. Whoever you are now, she likes feeling sexy. She doesn’t mind attention. And she doesn’t care if Park Jimin says she can’t dance.

“Let’s go, Momo.”

Your friend whoops. “Bye, boys! We’re gonna have ourselves some fun!”

Together, you join the crowd on the dance floor. The DJ is playing some electronic music you don’t recognize– but it’s got a strong beat, and that’s all you need. Momo is a fantastic dancer and you follow her lead: you jump, shimmy, and spin. The real you would feel awkward as hell, your body would seem clunky and unfamiliar. But now, with the lights down low and the music blaring, all you feel is adrenaline.

“That guy is making eyes at you!” You shout in Momo’s ear to be heard over the music. She turns and checks out the man who’s been looking her way the past two songs. “Ooh, he’s cute. But I’m here with you, y/n!”

You flash her a smile. “Who’s y/n? I can handle myself fine, darling. Talk to him if you want!”

“You sure you won’t mind?”

What are you doing? This isn’t you. It’s not even drunk you. It’s different. You wouldn’t want to be this girl every day, but for right now… you’re relishing in the feeling. You love it. This is acting.

“I’m sure.” You wink. “And have fun!”

Momo dances her way over to the guy, who breaks into a grin when he sees her headed towards him. You turn your attention back to the music, the melodies you don’t recognize, the beat you feel in your bones. You’re not y/n, you’re just one messy soul among dozens swaying to the same song.

The spell is broken when you feel a hand on your ass.

“Hey beautiful…” a husky voice growls in your ear, his chest pressing into your back. You want to yell, hit him, anything, but terror floods you and you feel frozen to the spot. “That dress looks great on you. It’d look better on my bedroom fl– oof!”

You turn just in time to see the man double over, and standing above him is Jimin, looking angrier than you’ve ever seen him.

“You don’t get to touch her,” he growls, “ever.”

“J-Jimin?”

He glances at you, eyes softening. “Are you okay?”

“I- yeah.” You feel nervous again, your new persona having slipped for a second.

“I’m gonna get security to throw this scumbag out. I’ll see you later, y/n, okay?” He nods at you and melts into the crowd, dragging the creep with him.

“Y/n? Oh my god, what happened?” Momo asks, appearing beside you.

You stare after Jimin. “I don’t know.”

~~~

You silently pretend to have a conversation, yet you feel his eyes burning into you. 

“Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.”

You’re oblivious, you can’t hear him, you’re super engaged in this fake conversation.

As Lord Capulet argues with Tybalt, played by your friend Taehyung, you allow yourself to sneak a glance at Jimin. It’s your first performance together since Friday night at the club– your understudy took on Saturday’s show, and Jimin’s played on Sunday. The whole weekend has passed and even now, Monday, you can’t stop thinking about that night. Why should Jimin care if you were getting harassed? Sure, it was probably him feeling protective of a fellow cast member, or just being a decent human being for once. Still, that raw fury in his voice... before you know it, it’s time for your first scene with your Romeo.

Jimin takes your hand. He really is handsome with stage makeup on, not that you notice or care. Though his body is angled towards the audience, his eyes bore into yours. “If I profane with my unworthiest hand, this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

And, still staring at you, he presses his lips to your hand. His gaze is so intense that if you didn’t utterly despise him, you might have felt flustered.

The scene continues, and before you know it…

“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake,” you say your line teasingly. Your characters are young, and flirting. Despite your and Jimin’s true feelings for each other, you both agreed to leave your rivalry in the dressing room.

“Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.” Jimin draws you in, like he’s done a hundred times in a dozen cities, and lightly touches his lips to yours. “Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.”

“Then have my lips the sin that they have took,” you manage, breathless. You turn away, hiding your face, before Jimin takes your hand and whirls you around. You end up pressed against him, much closer than the blocking you had rehearsed, but it does make the scene more intimate.

“Sin from thy lips?” Jimin cups your cheek– his hand seems extra soft today– and tilts your chin up. “Oh, trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.” And this kiss is nothing like the first, no, it’s desperate, messy, hormonal, secret, his plush lips move against yours hungrily and his tongue–

Eventually you pull away, almost lightheaded. You hate him, and you hate to admit it, but… “You kiss by the book.” Especially tonight.

After curtain call, you’re changing in the dressing room when Momo pokes her head in. “Yoo-hoo! How’s my favorite Juliet?”

“Hey!” Hyuna, your understudy, complains good-naturedly. 

“I heard the kiss scene today was intense,” Momo continues, helping you out of your costume. “Do I sense underlying sexual tension?”

You roll your eyes, swatting your friend. “As if, darling. My standards have yet to fall low enough for Park Jimin.”

A knock at the door startles you. “Who is it?”

The voice makes your heart drop into your stomach. “The walls aren’t soundproof, darling, and you’re right next to the men’s dressing room,” says… shit. Jimin.

“Oh damn, he heard that?”

Momo flaps her hand dismissively. “Since when have you cared about speaking your mind around Jimin?”

“I…” You shake your head. “You’re right, I don’t.” Right?

Once you’ve changed, you shoulder your bag and head down the hall. You’re almost to the door when Jimin steps out of the green room. “Well, if it isn’t Miss High Standards.”

You sigh inwardly. You haven’t spoken face to face with him since Friday, and you’re too tired to fight Jimin right now. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“Wow, y/n apologizing? Let me mark the date on my calendar, we’ll call it a holiday.”

“Whatever, Jimin.” You’re so tired of arguing with him every single day.

“No comeback? What’s gotten into you?” Underneath the snark in his tone, he almost sounds concerned… or so you’d think, if you didn’t know him better.

“Y/n, a bunch of us are going out tonight, want to come?” Taehyung calls behind Jimin.

You nearly laugh. Given how Friday went? “No thanks, I’m just gonna go back to the hotel.” With a curt nod to Jimin, you continue to the back door.

“Alright, good performance tonight,” Tae replies.

“You too.” You call a taxi and head to the hotel. You’re rooming with Hyuna, but if you know her at all you know she won’t be sleeping in her own bed tonight.

After brushing your teeth and hair, you take a breath and finally relax. Even when you’re offstage, at work it feels as though you have to be ‘on’ all the time. And with Park Jimin around, you can never let your guard down. It’s nice to have this time alone and finally wind down. You pull your sudoku book from your purse and curl up in bed to work on the puzzles. You like reading, but ever since high school you felt most at peace when you were able to channel your focus into problem-solving. Back home, that meant doing puzzles. On tour, your sudoku book is much more portable. It’s nearing midnight when you hear a knock on your door.

That’s weird. “Hyuna?” You call, padding to the door and pulling it open. “Did you lose your key ag-”

“Hi,” Jimin says.

What.

Your mind goes through about nine stages of panic, and for lack of a better plan you swing the door closed, with Jimin still on the other side.

“Uh… y/n?”

Your mind a whirling dervish, you can do nothing more than stare at the door. What is he doing here? Why is Jimin, of all people, outside your door? Sure, the whole cast is rooming on the same floor, but that doesn’t explain why he’s here. Is he hooking up with Hyuna? Does he need to borrow some toothpaste? Did he lose the revised blocking script?

Does he… want to talk to you? A rush of guilt nearly topples you. Did you really just close the door on him?

Wait, it’s Park Jimin. You hate Park Jimin. You should slam a door in his face, as regularly as possible. 

“W-what do you want?” you squeak, inwardly cursing. Get a hold of yourself. You’ve dealt with Jimin ever since the first table read, so why are you nervous now?

Jimin’s reply, though muffled through the door, sounds almost...sheepish. “I just want to talk.”

“Since when do you ‘just want to talk’ to me?”

“Can you just open the door, y/n? My ego is hurting enough as it is.”

What does he mean by that? Your curiosity alone is enough to make you open the door. Jimin is standing there, his cheeks tinged red, holding out a bottle.

“What’s this?” You take the bottle from his outstretched hand. It’s cold.

“Call it… a peace offering.”

“Champagne?”

“Sparkling apple cider. I noticed you don’t like to drink.”

“Oh.” You can think of nothing else to say– what is going on? “Uh, thanks. Do you want to come in, or…?”

“Actually…” Jimin shifts from side to side. “Do you want to go for a walk? The walls in the rooms are pretty thin.”

Befuddled, you follow him into the elevator, watching as he presses the R button.

“Roof, huh?” You finally have your voice back. “Is this it? Are you at last gonna murder me?”

“Yep, that’s definitely what’s going on here,” Jimin replies sarcastically, taking the bottle from your hand. “And apple cider is my weapon of choice.”

“Seriously, Jimin, what’s this about?” you ask as the elevator stops and you step out. “I mean, it’s not like you to– woah.”

Stars. Hundreds, thousands of stars blanketing the night sky, more than you’ve ever seen in your two months on tour. Spending all your time in big cities meant light pollution got in the way of stargazing but here, above the busy city streets…

“So pretty,” you whisper. “And the moon is so bright!” So much for being a snarky force of nature– you really, really missed the stars.

“Stars, in your multitudes…” you sing under your breath, forgetting who you’re with, where you are. 

“Scarce to be counted, filling the darkness with order and light.” Jimin’s rich tenor voice chimes in behind you. “Always a sucker for Les Miz. Apple cider?”

“There aren’t any cups.”

Jimin pries off the bottlecap and takes a swig directly from the bottle. “Who needs ‘em?”

“Really, Jimin, where’s all this coming from? Why are you being… well, nice?”

“Who says I’m being nice?”

You stare at him, unamused, although it’s too dark to tell if he’s noticed.

“Alright, alright. Look, I just…” Jimin’s words turn soft, and he sits down. You settle next to him. “I wanted to apologize for how I��ve behaved lately. You’re right, I’ve been an utter cock. My behavior, the shit I’ve said to you… it’s probably unforgivable. I wouldn’t blame you for getting up and leaving. I acted completely unprofessional, and created a bad working and social environment for you. I’m–” he pauses, takes a breath. “Y/n, I’m really, truly sorry.”

Well. He sounds genuine. But how can you trust Park Jimin? “Why were you always so hard on me?”

Jimin sighs. “I’m not going to try to justify my behavior. I’m not always the friendliest guy at work, but, uh…” he takes another swig of the cider. “Damn, now I wish this was alcoholic.”

You steal the bottle and take a drink yourself. “You were saying?”

“This sounds childish, god. The last troupe I was in, before I joined this production… my girlfr- ex-girlfriend at the time was an actress too. She wanted to do screen work but she wasn’t finding opportunities, and I introduced her to our director. She made a good impression and joined the troupe– we toured with In The Heights, I was Usnavi and she got Vanessa.”

“So you played love interests onstage? Neat.”

“It was, yeah… until we broke up. She’d been sleeping with the director, of all people.” The hurt and betrayal in Jimin’s voice is so potent you feel an urge to comfort him. But it’s Park Jimin, how do you know he’s telling the truth?

“There were still two months left in the tour– so even after we broke up, even after she cheated on me, I still had to kiss her and act like I was in love.”

“Jimin, I’m sorry…” you murmur. You want to reach out and touch his shoulder, but would that be inappropriate?

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be dumping this on you. The truth is, when I first saw you, and saw you were cast as Juliet, I got nervous. You’re smart, funny, talented, beautiful…”

“I’m sorry, did you just compliment me?”

“And I was honestly scared of falling for you. I didn’t want to go through that again. But how I acted was awful– Momo told me Friday that the reason you didn’t join our cast parties or nights out was because you wanted to avoid me. I didn’t realize what a toxic environment I was making it for you.”

“Oh, I mean…” dammit, Momo.

“When I first met you, I figured you’d be meek, a pushover. You were so nervous! I didn’t expect you to bite back,” Jimin laughs. “I never should have messed with you. You can fend for yourself better than anyone.”

“I guess you weren’t alone in escalating things,” you admit. “It’s not like I was nice to you either. I’m sorry for talking behind your back– and to your face.”

There’s a moment of thoughtful silence. You feel more relaxed than before, which is nice.

“Did you listen to the new Mean Girls musical?” Jimin asks suddenly.

“A few times, yeah. Why?”

Jimin lays back and points at the sky. “I see stars, so many stars tonight, you could make diamonds dull, you are so beautiful~”

You suddenly regret that your troupe is performing Shakespeare and not a musical. How you’d love to hear that clear, emotional tone every night. “You sound great.”

“Oh, ah…” Jimin’s voice rises in pitch. “Thanks.”

“Y’know, I never thanked you for helping me out on Friday with that dude.”

“Anyone would do the same.”

“But you’re the only one that did. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. That guy is part of the reason I came here tonight, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Obviously you’re a human being and also a troupe member, so those are two good reasons I didn’t want him to harass you. Later, though… jeez, this makes me sound like such a yandere… I dunno. I got so mad at that asshole, and I realized it’s because I care about you as more than just a troupe member.”

“What? J-Jimin?”

“And the show today. I feel like such an idiot, but I have to know: did the kiss scene today… did it feel different to you?”

Is that a tremor you hear in his voice? Is Park Jimin, with his endless confidence, nervous? Because of you?

“It… yeah, it did. I thought you changed the blocking.”

“I thought you did.”

You laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. “What is going on?”

Your costar joins in, chuckling mirthfully. “I have no clue. But I like it.”

What’s it? Does it mean you? This? The two of you together? Because if so, you’re starting to like it too.

“I’m supposed to hate your guts, man. You can’t come here, acting all adorable, bringing me apple cider, and still expect me to hate you.”

“So you think I’m adorable?”

“That is not what I said. The only person who thinks you’re adorable is you.”

“How narcissistic do you think I am?”

“I never realized you had enough room in your heart for more than you, to be honest.”

“There’s enough room for you too,” Jimin whispers, contrasting with his fast-paced quips. 

What does he mean by that?

You sit back up, and Jimin joins you. You stare at the night sky shoulder to shoulder for a moment before you speak. 

“Y’know, Momo always said you were the devil,” you say, keeping your voice light. “But I thought the devil was too high-class. There’s only one Satan, you know. You’re just a regular sinner.”

“Oh, so I’m a sinner? Then give me my sin again.” And Jimin is right there, leaning forward, a thousand questions in his eyes and you answer every one by pressing your lips to his.

Suddenly you’re kissing Park Jimin, which you’ve done a thousand times, but this time it’s different. Jimin makes a happy little “mmph!” noise when you kiss him before snaking his hand into your hair and gently pulling you closer. You’re finally kissing him like no one’s watching– it feels so familiar, and yet entirely new. 

After not-long-enough, you pull away. “Should I say you kiss by the book or is that too cliche?”

“Well, I did fall for my beautiful costar who I specifically didn’t want to fall for– so I think we’re past cliches at this point.”

You laugh, a clear, genuine sound you thought Jimin would never hear. “I can’t believe this. Should I ask what happens now, or…?”

Jimin quiets. “I’m scared,” he admits. “I don’t want…”

Right, his ex. “The tour ends next month. Do you want to maybe… see where things go from there? Once we don’t have to be Romeo and Juliet?”

“Call me but love, and henceforth I will never be Romeo,” Jimin quotes. 

You swat him. “Nerd.”

“No, but that sounds good. Yeah, that sounds…” you can hear his grin, it sounds like sunshine and sugar. “That sounds really, really, good, y/n.”

“Good. So… now what?”

Jimin chuckles mischievously. “Give me my sin again?”

A/N: Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to like, reblog and/or comment. I really appreciate it! <3

[memoriesofyccjungrk]

▫︎ ▪︎  ━ sᴘʜᴇʀᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛᴢ ᴄᴀsᴛɪɴɢ

if the new sphere announcement reading girl crush wasn’t enough to tempt gahyeon into auditioning, then it was her talk with yena that put gahyeon over the edge. they both saw it – and they were roommates, so of course they’d end up talking about it. they’d waited until they were actually home to talk about it – no use getting their company-mates upset or bothered if they decided otherwise, but it felt inevitable when they’d stepped into their apartment for the night and sat down to talk. because it’s not that gahyeon’s ungrateful for everything that royal has given her, but she’s just so tired of waiting.

so, what was taking one chance ? 

regardless of whether or not gahyeon was put on the heartz schedule or not, part of her felt like she needed to stop relying so much on that company loyalty and do what was best for her. she can almost hear chungha’s voice in her head as she thinks it – because quite honestly, although it’d only been about two years, gahyeon was antsy. she grinded for two years with no response on her progress, nothing to really show for it except blood, sweat, and tears.

if anything, she just wanted to feel like she was progressing again.

in the end, it was no different than being a part of royal. not knowing whether or not you’d debut, still working alongside the other girls to make the best picture – but not knowing how that picture will be framed. gahyeon just wanted to take a chance, because she was tired. sometimes she feels like maybe, she shouldn’t be – in the end, two years isn’t so long compared to some of the other trainees she knew. but for the chance to debut, gahyeon thinks she’d take it. even if it’s not with the girls she’d trained with, she still had the chance to debut with yena. that alone was enough for her.

over the time they’d spend together, gahyeon and yena had turned into a team. for one reason or another, gahyeon had latched onto the other girl, and yena had taken it in stride. if they were doing this, then they were doing it together regardless of the reservations she had about leaving royal. with the other by her side, gahyeon felt like maybe this was something she could do. alone, gahyeon was sure she’d have shied away from such an opportunity, and would never find herself working toward a feasible goal until royal stopped focusing so much on the luxe girls and finally did something with their remaining trainees. but that even seemed eons away. gahyeon was willing to take this chance, as long as she had yena by her side.

when it came to recording the video, it didn’t take much to commandeer a dance studio for herself in royal.

gahyeon started the camera, set up on a tripod like she does for her choreography videos, and steps back. she smiles at the camera, and bows. “ hello, i am royal entertainment’s lee gahyeon. ” she introduces once she straightens back up, waving gently at the camera in greeting – much like she would if she were in front of a panel of judges. “ thank you for taking time out of your day to consider me for your debut project. i will be performing kkpp by miso. ”she introduces before the track starts.

gahyeon always practiced meticulously, worked hard to maintain her own personal standards of excellence which she found were typically on-par with her coach’s standards. since arriving at royal after the mgas, gahyeon’s goal was to always be better. she could get a little bit better every single day. when she had started, she was certainly no master rapper or vocalist, but now she could much better hold a tune and would consider herself royal’s star rapper. not to mention, she was hard to miss onstage – but that was never a problem. overtime, she’d learned confidence and had become a better performer, a more sure performer – even if that confidence was sometimes feigned. 

but this – no, gahyeon knew she was ready for this.

perhaps whoever the judges were for the project remembered that meek girl that stood onstage at the mgas – because regardless of how she looks at it, gahyeon knows she wasn’t nearly as confident as she pretended she was. and the ceos themselves probably saw through that confident facade. if baek jiyoung herself ever saw the video, maybe she’d remember that girl she’d told couldn’t sing years ago – and granted, gahyeon wasn’t a stellar vocalist, but she can hold a tune now.

this song was confident and fun, a little teasing and cheeky as she talked about how pretty and confident she was – and gahyeon doesn’t think those are quite faked anymore. gahyeon wasn’t self-centered or self-obsessed, but over the years she’d spent maturing she’d learned something about herself – she actually didn’t hate herself as much as she used to. actually, it probably boiled down to gentle displeasure with occasional mess-ups, never the full-blown self-hatred she used to have for herself. if anything had become apparent, it was that gahyeon was much more comfortable in her skin and more aware of her own skillset. years ago, gahyeon wouldn’t even have considered herself a decent dancer, even if she had been a stellar one even back then. but it showed it every movement, every step, every shake – she was confident now. she believed in herself a whole lot more than she ever had. 

to gahyeon, this song was very gahyeon of her to be performing.

every movement had purpose. every step was precise. everything about the performance was very gahyeon, and orchestrated to perfection during gahyeon’s practices, she didn’t once have to worry while recording that she would step out of line, out of place – that something wrong would happen, because gahyeon trusted herself. she trusted that she could do it because she’d shown bright time and time again during every performance she’d done thus far. she’d proven to herself that she was ready and that she was talented. she had so much to show – and she would put it out on that stage every single time, even if that stage was just the practice room.

gahyeon takes a strong center stance when the song comes to an end, standing tall despite her short stature. because everything gahyeon has done has been an aim for debut, and she doesn’t want to pass up this chance a second time. admittedly, girl crush is gahyeon’s ideal and although she’s aware they were also searching for a pure concept last time, gahyeon gets the feeling the group isn’t the cutesy one she was imagining. regardless of concept, gahyeon was determined to show that she could showcase what sphere wanted, and look good doing it too. by the end, she’s sure she’s achieved that. 

once the song ends and gahyeon’s left standing, with the only thing to be heard being her even breathing ( she thanks the stars that she worked so hard on performing live ), gahyeon knows that she’s put herself out there. that she’s shown them what she has and hopes to the heavens that they want it. after a moment, she breaks and bows down respectfully at the camera again. “ thank you for your time. i hope you enjoyed my performance, and consider me for your project. i promise to work hard if given the chance, and i know you wouldn’t regret your decision in choosing me. ” gahyeon says, before bowing again, then moving to shut off the camera.

[whamcitycomedy]

I tried to take pity on my followers and condense my thoughts about hamlet to more or less one post so you only have to ignore me once... but anyways here’s a list of things I cannot stop thinking about since seeing hamlet at st ann’s:

-the sounds (the clock chiming, the doors opening and closing, the echoey way the ghost talks, the plastic sheet curtain, the song the grave diggers and ophelia sing)

-the way that hamlet’s father’s body is first wheeled out covered in a plastic sheet, and later a curtain is used that really just a big plastic sheet but looks super glowy and cool with the lighting, and makes the scenes with the ghost and the very end super surreal and cool

-the incense/smoke in the air when you first come in which also just looks. So Cool with the lighting

-the way it just starts, without any announcements or anything, and everyone just instantly going silent when hamlet opens a door, walks across to the middle of the stage, and cries silently

-the way claudius’s speech is so loud it hurts, and how claudius is facing away, but hamlet faces us, and we can see how pained his face is, and realize that the speech is so painfully loud because that’s how it sounds to him

-the stage crew/players/gravediggers/embodiments of death and their constantly taking things off stage, leaning against doorways, being cool and ominous with their black eye makeup and bowler hats

-the set, and the doors, the way light streams through them sometimes when they’re open

-the way hamlet is moving constantly, erratically, jumping on tables, laying in the ground, etc

-when it rains onstage but only in one small rectangular area, that ophelia stands in towards the beginning, calling for hamlet (the very overt but somehow not annoyingly so foreshadowing of how that spot of rain was the exact size and shape of a coffin)

-rosencrantz and guildenstern (they just. They came on stage and they were like. Just some Guys. Just some Dudes. They looked like somebody had 3D printed two stock photos of white guys. They looked like they had the personality of a sea cucumber. One of them was wearing adidas sneakers. They looked like the most boring gay people you’ve ever met. Guildenstern looked almost exactly like Travis McElroy. The entire audience burst into laughter as soon as they stepped on stage.)

-when the actors would walk up and down the aisles or along the side of the theater, right by the audience (which was quite often) and especially when the king and everyone watching the play was just seated in basically another row of the audience, with the performers on stage

-the fact that characters would be in all different places throughout the theater and you’d wish you could look at all of them at once because all of them, even the most minor characters were each doing something unique and interesting with their expressions (especially right after the mousetrap scene, I just wanted to look at EVERYBODY)

-the ppl sitting behind us who during intermission alternated between analyzing what was happening in the most stuck-up snobby way and quoting the “I am once again asking for” Bernie meme, but at the end of the play, simply said, “so. that hamlet guy huh.”

-Ruth negga

-Ruth negga in the hoodie

-Ruth negga when her shirt gets untucked

-Ruth negga and the way she sat/lounged in that armchair while talking to rosencrantz and guildenstern

-hamlet fucking with polonius

-hamlet being sassy and whiny and funny and serious all at once

-Ruth negga and just absolutely killing every single scene

-every single cast member also killing all of their scenes and adding so much depth to their characters (although I didn’t particularly like ophelia’s “mad” scene, I felt like aoife duffin was absolutely incredible at being Ophelia)

-the way horatio held hamlet to him when they learned of ophelia’s death

-how all of hamlet’s interactions with ophelia, horatio, and laertes, were simultaneously all so gay

-obviously it was all a very different experience seeing it performed rather than reading it, but I felt like it especially made everything with laertes and ophelia SO much more tragic and upsetting... like the casual way that claudius and polonius ignore ophelia’s humiliation and grief is so painful to watch

-the way the chair was left overturned on the stage during intermission. once again it just looked so cool

-I was worried it would be completely serious, because it seemed like such a dark interpretation of hamlet, but the parts that were funny to read were even funnier, and parts that I didn’t even expect to be funny were hilarious

-I totally still think the gertrude killed ophelia theory fits here ( the way gertrude repeated “drowned” several times with increasing emphasis...👀)

-hamlet playing the recorder terribly

-laertes

-hamlet seeming so comfortable and almost happy around the players (he jus wanted to be an actor bro 😣) and the fact that some of their reactions and the way they performed the mousetrap made it seem like he had even confided in them and told them a little about what he was doing

-gertrude’s bright red bed, and the way that bright red curtain falls quickly all at once to the floor

-the part they changed slightly to make it clear that gertrude was suspicious of claudius and drank the poisoned cup to protect hamlet

-Ruth negga

-the hands reaching out behind the plastic curtain... and the end 😳

[theboyz-engup]

The Boyz Reaction To: Their Idol Crush

Can I have the Boyz reaction to their celebrity crush (aka you) says that they are her ideal type?

---------

Sangyeon

"Sangyeon! Sangyeon, have you heard?"

The reporter who was asking the band questions about their upcoming album at the press conference was very pushy. They'd gotten to the front of the line and looked very excited.

"H-heard what?" Sangyeon laughed, relatively worried. Whenever reporters had that smile on their face, they were generally about to spill some bad news.

"Y/n from y/b/n said you were their ideal type and you said they were yours. How are you feeling about that?"

Sangyeon only started to flush, ears turning pink. He couldn't believe it, not knowing how to react and so little laughs trickled through.

It wasn't until dating questions cut through that he was snapped out of his fantasy world: one where you and him could finally meet and talk- really get to see if you were each other's ideal types.

Jacob

You were on the idol TV show with him with your group and everything was going well

Laughter all around the room and Jacob had stolen many looks at you just for a glimpse of you giggling about something your group members did.

Then, you got called on by the MC and suddenly so did he.

"Jacob, you once said that y/n is your ideal type right?"

Ooh’s and ah’s would spread across the room and he would immediately get embarrassed, still feeling that way, yes, but not wanting you to find out this way.

"And y/n, you recently said that Jacob was your ideal type at your fansign."

Both of you would look at each other, not embarrassed. Jacob, however, would also have his mouth opened wide, genuinely in shock

"M-me? Why?"

You wouldn’t really have an answer, stumbling on your words just the same

Younghoon

Younghoon heard about it on a night out.

He’s hardly publicly expressed who his ideal type was, generally avoiding the question at fansigns or giving very vague answers

but he always had your face in mind, really hoping that one day he’d get to meet you and maybe things would work out. 

As it turned out, on a night out with a few members from tbz, Younghoon bumped into you and you were extremely starstruck, your members chuckling at your reaction to seeing him

One of your members would him about your crush on him and he’d blush and giggle and laugh, both of you unable to keep from staring

Hyunjae

Hyunjae was waiting for Sunwoo to get back to the dinner table so they could all eat

they’d made a pact not to eat without each other if they were all in the same house, so six of the boys were placed around the dinner table, trying to kill time as Sunwoo changed into his house clothes

Haknyeon’s eyebrows raised, mouth creating a little ‘o’ before he smiled brightly

“Hyung, I think you’re going to want to see this,” he crooned, holding his phone up to the boy’s face. Everyone else leaned in to read it too, little cheers going around the table as they said congratulations to him

Hyunjae would just smile sheepishly at the article title

‘Y/n of Y/b/n Calls Hyunjae from The Boyz their ideal type”

Juyeon

"Hyung!"

Eric came dashing through the halls, blanket hooked onto his feet as he tried to run and evidently slipped a lot. He was determined to get to Juyeon, tossing the boy his phone before tripping over his two feet and hitting the floor.

"Are you oka-"

"Just! Watch the video!" Eric pressed, breathless but giddy. Juyeon pressed play, eyes shifting down to a fancam of you at a fansign, grinning happily as you listened to a question.

"And what is your ideal type, y/n?"

You gave a little laugh, seemingly embarrassed as your fingers shifted around the microphone. You began some sort of a description.

Sweet. Kind. Thoughtful and caring. Reads books.

Juyeon ticked off all the attributes that were like him until you interrupted yourself, deciding on saying, "I think, to best describe it, someone like Juyeon from The Boyz."

Eric screeched, getting excited and shaking at his shoulders but Juyeon was just stunned, watching you nod in confirmation and laugh nervously again. You looked so cute that his cheeks turned red. He could hardly believe it, looking at Eric and gaping.

"Did she really say my name?"

Kevin

They were doing overseas promotions and had split up all the members for individual interviews

Kevin, seeing as he’s extremely competent in English, was very comfortable, chatting and getting along as best as he could with his interviewers

Only, as they mentioned your name, would he start to lose ground a bit, widening his eyes before trying to remain composed

His regular box smile would break out after hearing you’d mentioned he was your ideal type, hands gripping his seat and body leaning forwards as he asked if that was really true

Interviewers would nod, chuckling a bit as he looked slightly proud of himself, not quite telling many people you were his celebrity crush but figuring it would show after this aired

New / Chanhee

Chanhee was on Masked Singer

and he was truly very nervous

as he waited backstage for his performance, he listened to the MCs and the special guests chatting, your voice sticking out

he knew it was you anywhere, peeking out behind a curtain to watch you animatedly agree with someone

over the microphone, he listened as you explained you loved many voices in Kpop but felt that the best one you’d ever heard was his

“He’s just perfect, honestly,” you’d say, getting embarrassed only as the other guests threw little quips your way, teasing you

it was all the confidence booster he needed though, hands determined as they gripped the microphone and he sang the best he ever has

Q / Changmin

Both of you were the main dancers of your groups

so you were always paying close attention to each other, as it would seem

it was a bit of a surprise to be asked to 1million Dance Studio at the same time but neither of you seemed to bat an eye, talking to each other and getting friendly

it was rare to meet someone with the same amount of passion as him, especially when it came to dance

so, when you mentioned it in passing that you really admired him, calling him just your type, he’d widen his eyes

“I- I think that about you too”

both of you would be embarrassed, small and bashful giggles dripping from your mouths before you run back to your choreography learning

Haknyeon

Haknyeon and you were MCs for a special episode of Music Bank and both of you were extremely nervous

but you did well, despite it all, Haknyeon being very proud of himself

he was in front of his crush and he hadn’t made one slip up yet

but near the end of the show, Mina would bring up that, hey, you said your ideal type was Haknyeon once

and you’d instantly get shy and Haknyeon would blink once

then twice before asking “serIOUSLY??”

both of you would proceed to be impeccably shy, Mina awkwardly having to say that he chose you as his ideal type as well

needless to say, its a very sweet little moment on tv 

Hwall

Hyunjoon would find out over vlive

people had been asking him over and over and he’d mention you as his ideal type once a long time ago

and suddenly in the middle of his live, he’d get more comments streaming in, with lots of capitals

so many of you were trying to get his attention so he’d read it and immediately gasp

“Me?” he’d ask, with a silly grin appearing afterwards

he didn’t know how he ended up on your radar but he was happy to know you thought of him the same way

Sunwoo

He would hear it in passing. You'd be at an awards show backstage after your performance, kicking back with a member as you watched the onstage performances.

"Did you see Sunwoo rapping earlier?"

Your group member asking about him was enough for him to stop in his tracks.

"Yes, oh my god," you sighed, clinging onto your group members sleeve, "he's so talented. Really just my type."

The surge of confidence he got from hearing that helped him build up the courage to speak to you later that night.

Brushing his hair with his hands, hoping to get some of the sparkles and sweat out, he'd hop off happily to the rest of the group where they were getting changed, muttering to himself the whole way with a little smug smile

"Just their type, huh?"

Eric

Tbz were at another award show, waiting in their seats and watching performances

as usual, before performances, they were giving out information about the group- your group- that was about to go up and Eric instantly lit up

ever since he first saw you perform and dance, he’d been enamoured with you, taking a liking to your group more and more

as you came on stage with your group, a song about love playing overhead (one he played a lot, he should say), he tried to watch with tunnel vision

as you pointed in his direction for one of your lyrics, though it might’ve just been your choreography, he grinned

grin growing even wider as Changmin leaned in to say he heard you called him your ideal type yesterday at a fansign

let’s just say his fanboy really popped out after

[nosferatyou]

New Tune: Part 1 (Jake Kiszka x Reader)

Summary: Two guitarists meet at a Rock Festival, only having a week with each other before they have to return to their own lives. The bond they create is unfeigned and resolute. 

 WC: 1.7k

Warnings: Cursing and drinking

Hello! This is the first series i’ve done in years! And i’m honestly really excited about it. The title is cheesy and probably wont make sense till the last chapter, but its a heartfelt story. I know its a short first chapter but we are just getting started. I really hope you guys like it! 

The rush of performing is worryingly amazing. Just playing for hundreds of people who all share the love of music harmoniously together in one room is even something magical in itself. But playing the music that joins us together? Its indescribable, and its why I fucking love my job. I get to do that almost every night for hundreds of different people. The thing I love most is just being able to jam onstage with my best friends, and creating music with them. Most of our songs are created through our live shows, and it’s all 100% us in every performance. Not what our managers think will make the most money or sell out the most shows, but it’s exactly what we want to create. Fucking Rock and Roll.

Which is what we are doing now, at some random festival in California just trying to play some fucking music. We were lucky enough to get on the roster at all, first of all our name isn't too well known yet and we play a bit heavier than the people on the setlist as is. It's  all of course Rock, but there is a fair share of indie and folk thrown in for good measure. 

We more play psychedelic rock? I guess that’s the way you could describe it, lots of fuzz, delay effects, and weird ass lyrics that could make Jim Morrison say “What the fuck?” Luckily our manager was friends with the event coordinator and squeezed our name in last minute. I honestly don’t think we are even on the Lineup. 

“Hey fuckface! Come help me with this keg!” Screamed the Lead Vocalist to our band, but also my best friend, Matt. 

I looked up from my phone to see the exasperated boy doing his best to get it up the stairs of the tour bus, but failing miserably. I get up from my spot to attempt to help move the heavy keg from the base of the stairs. 

“A keg? What are we in high school? I mean yes, we could very easily drink our way through this, but wouldn’t cases of beer just be easier?” I asked, also struggling to get it up the stairs” 

“I mean… Where's the fun… In that?” He said, pausing in between his words to lift the heavy thing. 

We finally got it to the top, both letting out a whoosh of air before going to fall back on the couches in exhaustion. We sat in silence, settling with the fact that we were both extremely out of shape despite doing countless shows. WHich honestly in itself is a huge work out. 

“Alright! Up we go, it’s up here so let’s get this party started before we die of exhaustion.”

Matt hopped up quicker than expected and grabbed the valve for the keg off the counter.

“Now that. Is a fantastic idea.” He pushed a filled cup and then filled his own. We clinked our drinks and threw them back, both easily swallowing it all. 

“Let's get absolutely fucked.” Matt said, emphasizing the word fucked. "Wait..." I half questioned. "If our thing is drinking outside, then why are we putting the keg in here?" 

He gave me a blank stare and then dropped his head in shame. 

"Fuck." 

Jakes POV

“Jake I swear to god if you don’t walk faster I'm going to steal that guitar of yours and add my own special touch to it.” 

“Well calm down and slow your pace, and then I'll catch up. And Honestly josh, I don't even want to think of what you'd do to my girl.” 

Josh suddenly slowed down and got right into my space, and then very animatedly started to explain how he would decorate her. 

“I'm sure you remember that one very fun tambourine I had at that one show. You know, the one with all the tassels.”

“Mhm, That one tambourine from that one show.” I absentmindedly replied, not really paying attention to his whole show.

 More taking in all the surroundings of all the buses around us, housing all the artists playing throughout the week. Josh and I have a habit of doing this at every festival we’ve been too, which wasn't much, but it was enough to create the tradition. These were always fun to go to, meet different musicians and wind down for a week. Festivals were always fun simply because we could take a real break. We tend to get a bit overrun with tour dates because of management, but here we play once or twice, and spent the rest of the week doing press or enjoying ourselves. We all honestly looked forward to it. 

Josh suddenly stopped talking about his favorite tambourines and said, “What was that?” 

We wandered around with a bit more direction lightly following the voices that bounced off of all the buses.

I stopped to listen and heard two people very aggressively discussing what seemed to be Jimi Hendrix and Stevie Ray Vaughn. As we kept walking, we started to hear them more clearly. 

The girl yelling “Honestly Matt, If you tell me right now, that your prefer Stevie over Jimi I’m fucking leaving this band.” 

“Y/N, I prefer Stevie.”

After that the man, presumably Matt, said that all hell had broken loose and swears and counter arguments were thrown left and right. 

Josh seemed very interested in the whole scene and did his best to follow the voices so he could find the source. I was honestly pretty interested myself. 

We finally rounded a corner to find two, seemingly, very drunk people intensely arguing while still half laying down in the lawn chairs they had set out in front of their bus. A keg sat between them, and a stack of red solo cups on top. Nothing but a lantern and the moon keeping them alight.

“Sure, we all love Stevie, he’s a chill dude. But Jimi? He ascended. He fucking made music. He created most of what Stevie played. I honest to god, Matt, will physically fight you.” 

The girl caught my eye when we rounded the corner, and very aggressively pointed at me. 

“You, long haired pretty boy in the Chelsea boots. Come here.” 

I looked over at josh and we seemed more than happy to see what this random stranger had up her sleeve. He kind of pushed my shoulder forward so we could make our way over to them. I had no idea what to expect. 

She sat up in her chair and Matt stayed unmoving, still half laying in his chair. 

“Which is better? And there is a right and wrong answer. Stevie Ray Vaughn or Jimi Hendrix.” She glared at the Matt when she said Jimi's name, he seemed unbothered. 

“I mean Jimi is the obvious here, any guitarist would agree.”

“Ha! Fuck you Matt Im right, its just factually true. Suck. My. Dick.”

“Well he’s one random guy that doesn't answer the whole mystery.” Matt slurred.

Josh quickly butted into the conversation, which isn't new. 

“Well if my opinion has any weight than I vote for Jimi, but speaking of strangers. Im Josh, and this here is my twin, Jakey”

“Its Jake.” 

The mood quickly changed and a smile appeared on the girls face. She held out her hand and gave a quick but firm handshake, introducing herself.

“The name is Y/N, and this Ignorant bastard is named Matt.”

She reached over to the keg in between them and refilled her cup, then poured two more for Josh and I. 

“For my two new friends.” She smiled, handing the cups to us. We happily accepted, and Josh made his way to sit on the ground in front of them, I quickly followed.

“Alright boys, Name your band and then instruments, seeing as were here and all.” She said gesturing to the place.

 Josh quickly spoke first “Well we are two halves of Greta Van Fleet, and I sometimes play vocals, occasional screams, but mostly tambourines.” He joked.

Y/N snorted at Josh's introduction. 

“And you?” she asked directing her attention to me. 

“As Josh said, two halves of our band Greta Van Fleet, And I play Lead Guitar.”

Her eyes seemed to light up at that comment and quickly responded with a smile.

“ Isn't that a coincidence, so do I,” 

As the night went on the booze flowed more, and so did the conversation. We all quickly learned we had a lot in common, and got along pretty damn well. Matt wasn't very present, because, well, he passed out moments after we got there. But as the night went on, the more we all truly felt comfortable with each other. It was simply one of those times in your life when you meet someone you truly feel akin too. Maybe it was because we were all drunk, or maybe it was a fluke. Her love for music dripped off of every word she spoke, she just gave off positivity and confidence, and her passion for life and work truly shined through. She consistently listened to us throughout the night, less worried about discussing her personal life. She seemed genuinely interested in every little thing Josh and I had to say.

It felt like we were there for all of five minutes, but before we knew it, it was 4 am. By that point so much random shit was coming out of our mouths that it wasn't coherent. Eventually Josh and I helped her round Matt onto the bus and said our quick goodbyes before we left. 

As we walked back, Josh's already never ending smile seemed brighter, seeming touched the domestic events of the night. 

“I really like her, Jakey.” 

A smile was growing on my face as well, though ever so slightly more subtle.

“I did too, Josh.” 

We eventually stumbled our way back onto our own bus, not bothering to change before hopping into our bunks.  It would've been pitch black if it weren't for the dim blue lights under the seats. In the bunks next to ours were Danny and Sam, sleeping pretty soundly in their own. Lucky for us they can sleep through anything. Especially Sam.

I heard a loud thump, looking over to see josh sitting on his ass and looking more grumpy.

“Fuckin bunks are so high up. I swear to god…”

He eventually got up, mumbling to himself angrily before eventually climbing up and falling asleep.

I laid restless in my own, sleep seeming unlikely for the night. My mind could only focus on the enigma that was the girl we had the pleasure of meeting. So I just laid in my bunk, staring at the low ceiling, mind unfocused on anything except what just happened.

Chapter 2

[girls-scenarios]

Can’t Focus

Idol: Lua (Weki Meki)

Prompt: Weki Meki Lua x Fem!Reader where the reader is distracting Lua from a performance, practice or a show (you can decide) and afterwards she confronts her and confesses to her/asks her on a date

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: Lua owns my entire heart. Also, she didn’t get like ANY lines or screen time in Tiki Taka. What’s up with that, Fantagio? Anyway, I took a few liberties but I hope you all enjoy!

♡ Tip Jar♡

Lua was not the type to get distracted from dancing. Sure, she’d look out the window for a cute dog if she got bored or might take a break from memorizing lines to watch a new music video, but when it came to dancing, she was passionate and nothing could tear her away. She loved dancing and threw everything she had into it, getting tunnel vision until she’d memorized the moves and the dance was natural to her body.

So when she found herself getting distracted by you, it was a shock. This had never happened before, but all of a sudden, even when you weren’t there, she found herself getting distracted by thoughts of you. She’d forget the next move after thinking about your smile, or she’d look away from the practice video to look at you instead. It was weird, and she didn’t know when this had started, but it was starting to drive her a little bit crazy. She had a show to get ready for, but she couldn’t concentrate because of you.

She’d met you a short time before, as a mutual friend of Yoojung’s, and the two of you had immediately hit it off, quickly moving to hanging out with just each other. And then the feelings had started. Lua wasn’t sure what to name them, and honestly she was a bit scared of them, so she tried to just ignore them. But it was hard to ignore her feelings when you laughed at her jokes and smiled brightly and interrupted her thoughts during her private practice time. The feelings kept jumping into her thoughts, until they blocked out the dance she was learning and made it hard to think about anything else. That was when she realized that this was getting out of her control.

She leaned against the mirror in the practice room, closing her eyes and wishing that the mirror could cool her warm skin, breathing hard. The other girls milled around to room, tired and moaning about practice, and it was weird. Lua never got tired out this easily. She could usually dance for hours on end without feeling tired. But now, she felt exhausted and frustrated with herself, just from a few rounds of practicing. What was going on with her?

“Lua, we’re going to take a break for lunch!” Suyeon’s voice rang through the practice room and Lua opened her eyes, blinking at her group mates before nodding and putting on a smile.

“Okay. I think I’m going to stay here and practice a little more.”

Suyeon sent her a little look, but didn’t say anything, just shrugging her shoulders. “Just don’t hurt yourself and make sure you eat.”

“I will, don’t worry.”

As the rest of the girls shuffled out the door, Yoojung hung back. She looked torn between leaving and staying before eventually sighing and walking back over to Lua. Eyebrows raised, the younger girl looked up at her.

“Lua.”

“What’s up?”

“We need to chat.”

Lua felt a chill run through her spine as she thought of the possibilities. Was she going to be scolded for not being able to memorize the dance? Had Yoojung figured out her feelings for you? Had she made too many mistakes? Every thought was scary, and she shivered, but tried to keep a poker face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Yoojung sat down beside her, knocking her head gently back against the glass of the mirror as she pursed her lips, thinking of what to say for a moment before turning to the younger girl. “So. Your dancing. Something has been distracting you.”

Lua could feel her cheeks color as she pulled her legs up to her chest, holding them tight. “Sorry. I’ve been trying to do my best as always but I just can’t focus.”

“What’s on your mind? Maybe if you talk about it, I can help you.”

She bit her lip, weighing her possibilities. Technically, Yoojung was right. Talking to someone about it might help her be able to focus better. Getting those feelings out would only be beneficial. But at the same time, you were good friends with Yoojung, and although she doubted this would happen, you might end up hearing about her feelings if she admitted them. Still, she had to focus. For the sake of her team. So she sighed, and pressed her forehead against her knees.

“Just promise not to judge me or tell anyone else, okay?”

“I promise.”

“I.... Recently, I haven’t been able to get someone out of my mind. I thought I could ignore the feelings I have for them because honestly I was kind of scared of what that would mean but I can’t and now I can’t think about anything but them and those feelings. I keep seeing their smile and, if they’re around, I can’t focus on anything but them.” Lua sucked in a deep breath. “I know, it’s dumb. But I can’t help myself. I’ve tried.”

“It’s not dumb,” Yoojung said, and then, after a beat of quiet, “it’s (Y/N), isn’t it?”

Again, Lua’s face colored, and she closed her eyes, wishing she could melt into the floor. “Am I that obvious?”

“Not to anyone to doesn’t know both of you well. But the two of you have been spending a lot of time together, and I noticed that sparks flew as soon as I introduced the two of you.” She paused and reached over to wrap a comforting arm around the other girl’s shoulders. “Why don’t you just tell them?”

“I can’t do that, what if they don’t feel the same? I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Trust me, you wont do that. (Y/N) literally talks about you all the time. They adore you.”

Could Lua’s face get any more red? She doubted it. “But do they like me? Like that?”

“They haven’t told me anything, but let’s just say that I would be really, really surprised if they turned you down.”

Lua opened her eyes and stared down at the floor. Could you really like her back? She’d noticed some things, too, but she’d been too afraid to get her hopes up. Her heart skipped a beat and she shivered again, turning her head to look at Yoojung. “I really, really like them, Yoojung.”

Yoojung smiled, fond and friendly, and gave her a little hug. “I can tell. Thank you for confiding in me. Do you feel any better now?”

She did feel better, somewhat, but her feelings were still crowding her mind, and she bit her lip. “Kind of? But now I’m thinking about how I should tell them.”

“I can help you with that!”

Warily, Lua raised her eyebrows. “You can?”

“Yeah! I’ve got a great idea.” Yoojung was basically glowing now, and nerves twisted in Lua’s stomach, but she swallowed them down.

“What is it?”

“Let’s invite (Y/N) to the showcase for our new song!”

-

A few weeks later, Lua paced behind the stage, listening as fans crowded in and the venue tested the microphone and played some of their songs. It was almost time to perform, and she was nervous. You were out there in that crowd, there to watch her (and the rest of the girls, but mostly her) perform, and she had to get this perfect. After confessing everything to Yoojung and planning her confession, she’d been able to focus more on the dance at hand and had gotten it down, but she was still nervous. What if she got distracted by you during the show and messed up? What if she couldn’t remember the dance?

“You’ll do great,” Yoojung said from behind her, knocking her out of her thoughts as the smaller girl threw her arms around her. Smiling, Lua turned around to look at her.

“Thanks. For everything.”

“Listen, that’s what friends are for! You’re going to kill it and (Y/N) is going to totally fall for you even more than they totally already have, and then your confession is going to be adorable. I just know it.” Yoojung beamed and patted the taller girl’s head. “I’m excited for you.”

“I’m nervous,” Lua admitted, looking down at the ground.

“That’s okay. I’m nervous, too, and I’m not even confessing. It’s normal to be nervous. But I know you. And I know you’ll be great on stage like you always are.”

“Thank you.” Taking a deep breath, Lua squared her shoulders. “I can do this.”

“That’s the spirit! Let’s go rock this place!”

It took Lua about five seconds to locate you in the crowd as she walked onstage, and butterflies immediately started up in her stomach as her heart flip-flopped and she felt her face heat up. Thankfully, the makeup artist had done a good job of concealing the blush, so she doubted anyone would noticed as she breathlessly took her place next to Rina on the stage. You smiled up at her and her heart jumped, but she managed to smile back, ignoring the pounding in her chest.

Just as she thought, she couldn’t take her eyes off of you. You were distracting her from the audience, and once again, she felt like she couldn’t focus. But as she got into formation and the music started, she steadied herself and threw her nerves to the wind. She was Lua of Weki Meki, and she could do this, even if she was only putting on a show for you. There was no way she was going to mess this up.

-

The showcase had gone well. The entire time, Lua had felt a bit breathless and nervous, with her heart pounding in her chest, but as she stepped off the stage, a huge smile spread over her lips and she leaned against one of the walls.

“I did it. I really did it.”

“You killed it,” Suyeon said, supportive although she seemed a little clueless as to why Lua was so relieved. Beaming at her, Lua thanked her before steadying herself on her feet and walking off to find Yoojung. They’d planned that Yoojung would run from the stage to the side door after the performance to let you come backstage, and sure enough, as Lua walked over to that side door, she heard your voice.

“You guys were amazing out there tonight,” you were saying with a smile as you gave Yoojung a quick hug, and she took a deep breath before walking over to the two of you. Your eyes lit up when you saw her walking over, and she gave you a shaky smile.

“Hey, (Y/N). Thanks for coming.”

“Of course, I wasn’t going to miss it! You did amazing up there tonight.”

Lua’s heart jumped once again in her chest, and when she glanced over at Yoojung, the smaller girl gave her a wink and a thumbs up.

“Oh, I need to go take off my mic, I’ll be right back.” With that, Yoojung was gone, leaving the two of you alone. For a moment, it was a bit awkward, and Lua cleared her throat, rubbing the back of her neck.

“I really appreciate your support tonight.”

“I’m always here to support you,” you said, giving her a smile. Was it just her imagination, or did you seem nervous too? “I love watching you dance and sing. Although I keep saying that they should give you more lines!”

Lua had to admit, she was glad she didn’t get too many lines this time. If she had, this showcase could have been a disaster. Still, she grinned, happy at your words. “Awe, thanks! It was Lucy’s turn to get lines, I think.” With a laugh, she shrugged. “We trade them off every comeback.”

“No kidding.” You stepped back to look her over, and she felt her face heating up again. “I like the styling this comeback, though. Your hair looks super cute with the darker color.”

“Thanks,” she said softly, touching the ends of her hair. This was just busy talk, and she knew she had to get to the original subject, so she cleared her throat again and planted herself. “Um, I actually wanted to ask you something tonight.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows raised, and something sparkled in your eyes. Hope, maybe? “What is it?”

Even in the dark-lit backstage area, almost drowned out by the loud sounds of music and people yelling back and forth and under the neon “EXIT” sign, you looked incredible. She was so head over heels for you and your smile and everything about you that it wasn’t even funny. Once again, she named those feelings. She liked you. So, so much. You had mixed up her life so much since she’d met you, and yet she wouldn’t have it any other way. Not when you brought her so much happiness.

“When we were preparing for this comeback, I couldn’t focus. I kept getting distracted. Distracted by your smile or by your voice or your laugh, or by you actually being there. I couldn’t focus on anything but you.” She swallowed, a bit too scared to look at your face as she focused on your shoulder instead. “It made me realize that I really, really like you. So I wanted to ask if you would go out with me. And if it’s a no, then don’t worry, I can-.”

“Of course it’s a yes, silly,” you interrupted her, laughing softly, and she finally looked up at your face to see you smiling widely, cheeks flushed. “I really, really like you too. I’m sorry for distracting you, though.”

“Oh, no! It wasn’t your fault! I just needed to work through my feelings and everything, it totally wasn’t your fault....” Realizing that she was rambling, she cut herself off and felt herself breathe a sigh of relief. It was okay. Everything would be okay. You liked her too. “Um, so will this weekend work? For a date? There’s this cool garden that just opened up, if you want to go there. And then we can go get dinner, wherever you want. If that sounds okay.”

You smiled and reached out to shyly take her hand. Giddy, she giggled, bringing her free hand up to cover her mouth and making you laugh too as you shuffled closer to you, bumping her shoulder with your own. Her manager was probably going to scold her for taking so long later, but she couldn’t care less right now. She just wanted to spend a little more time with you, finally able to just focus on you like she’d wanted to for so long.

“That sounds perfect, Lua. I can hardly wait.”

[swanlake1998]

Dance Magazine Article: The Singular Elegance of American Ballet Theatre's Calvin Royal III ​

Date: June 11, 2020

By: Marina Harss

In an iPhone video of a Romeo and Juliet rehearsal made in early March, Calvin Royal III stands in a corner of an American Ballet Theatre studio, arms reaching far into space, chin slightly raised in welcoming anticipation. There is such warmth and openness in his stance, you can understand why Juliet would want to hurl herself halfway across the stage into his arms. He looks directly into the eyes of his partner, Cassandra Trenary, and then lowers her into a swoon.

"He approaches everything with a sincerity that I love," Trenary says later. "No matter what he dances, he is always authentically himself."

Royal and Trenary were meant to make their debuts in the ballet on April 4, in Abu Dhabi. The following month, he was scheduled to perform as Romeo to Misty Copeland's Juliet, and make his Albrecht debut, at New York City's Metropolitan Opera House. But then the COVID-19 crisis hit, bringing the entire world to a halt and putting all premieres on an indefinite hold.

Royal—tall, lanky, with a silken, elegant way of moving and a gentle and open stage manner—would seem ideally suited to play Romeo. There is a quiet persuasiveness to his dancing. He doesn't show off. Instead, he imbues each movement with an aura of beauty and lyricism. As Kevin McKenzie, the artistic director of the company, puts it, "Calvin has an inner light."

Romeo is a role Royal has craved since he began to study dance. At times, though, he has wondered whether the opportunity would ever arrive. Royal wasn't a prodigy. His ascent has been gradual, even painstaking at times. You get the feeling he has earned every role, every opportunity through determination and the integrity of his dancing, but without ever losing that grace that makes him such a joy to watch onstage. He is hungry without being driven by ambition.

His quietly serious way of working has been one of the constants of his career. "Slow and steady, every day a little bit better, and absolutely consistent," Raymond Lukens, who taught him at the ABT-affiliated Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis School, says of his approach.

Royal didn't get his start in ballet until age 14, at the Pinellas County Center for the Arts at Gibbs High School in St. Petersburg, Florida. Before that, he had been a serious piano student. It was his grandmother Linda, a social worker and a lover of classical music, opera and dance, who first encouraged his artistic tendencies. When he was 10, she bought him a Yamaha electric keyboard for Christmas. "I'll never forget it," she says. "He called me one Sunday morning and said, 'I want you to listen to something.' " On the other end of the line, he started to play Beethoven's Für Elise. He had learned it by ear.

Royal excelled at his piano studies, but also loved to move. For a few years, he took part in a local production called The Chocolate Nutcracker, which included hip hop, West African and other styles of dance. One of his fellow participants encouraged him to audition for the high school dance program. Without ever having taken a formal dance class, he was accepted.

There was so much to learn, he sometimes felt he might never catch up. "I think it intrigued him that ballet took so much effort," says Suzanne Pomerantzeff, his main teacher at Pinellas. The intellectual challenge drew him in as much as the physical.

That focus carried him through some difficult times at home. In his sophomore year, he injured his back in a car accident and had to sit out ballet classes for several months, excruciating given he had only just begun to make progress. He would take notes on the side, "visualizing dance in my mind," as he puts it. Dance became a lifeline, a source of steadiness and hope.

In his junior year, he competed in Youth America Grand Prix, where he was spotted by Lukens and Franco De Vita, of the JKO School. "I was immediately struck by his elegance, his musicality and his coordination," remembers De Vita, who offered him a scholarship.

After a year in the school and two and a half in ABT II (now the ABT Studio Company), he got into the main company, initially as an apprentice, at 21. He was still getting his technique where he wanted it to be—quick footwork and beats were a challenge for his long, lithe physique. ("I wanted to move like those little guys," he says, "but it wasn't easy with these legs.")

But he also wondered whether he fit the typical mold of a principal dancer at the company. "It was only when I came to New York that I started to become more aware of race in ballet," says Royal. In Florida, his ballet classes had been mixed. In New York City, less so. When he first joined ABT II, he overheard other dancers from the company making snide comments about a fellow African-American dancer there. "Oh, well, I guess they needed a black girl,' " he heard one of them say.

He began to wonder whether he might never be given the chance to prove himself as a leading man by McKenzie and the rest of the artistic staff. "Will they see me as Romeo or Albrecht? Not only because I'm black, but also because I'm gay?"

At the time, he says, the company culture was different: "There was this sense of machismo, and this idea that the guys had to look sort of like football players." Ethan Stiefel, José Manuel Carreño and other powerhouses in that vein were company stars. Just a few years earlier, in 2003, the company had put out a video, Born to Be Wild, that depicted its male dancers as testosterone-driven guys who rode motorcycles and posed as matadors.

Since that time, much has changed. Fewer international stars come through ABT; a new generation of home-bred principals has risen to the top, and they are anything but cookie-cutter. (Only one, however, is black: Misty Copeland.) Rigid notions about what Romeo or Siegfried should look like have finally begun to relax, to the benefit of the dancers.

Royal's particular qualities have been recognized and put to artistic use, especially by choreographer Alexei Ratmansky, ABT's artist in residence. In 2013, Ratmansky gave him a major role in his evening-length Shostakovich Trilogy. Three years later, he created an extra-ordinary, melancholy solo for him in Serenade after Plato's Symposium. The solo showcased the gracefulness of Royal's port de bras, the inwardness of his dancing, and his capacity to communicate thought and emotion through movement. Others have danced it, but none with the same poetry.

Royal also leads one of the three debut casts of Ratmansky's newest ballet epic, Of Love and Rage, originally scheduled to have its New York premiere during the company's spring season at the Met. That too will have to wait, for now.

The poetry in Royal's dancing is related to his deep, subtle musicality; music flows through him. It's not surprising that his partner, ABT pianist Jacek Mysinski, is a musician. Their work spills over into their downtime; Mysinski practices at home, and they talk about the ballets in the rep. When Mysinski is playing from the pit during a performance, Royal can feel his presence, he says: "It's almost like having him at my side, almost like a partner."

Royal was promoted to soloist in 2017, nearly seven years after joining. At some point along the way, he admits, he had begun to spin his wheels. "I got my hopes up and then I got my hopes shattered. I even started thinking about exploring other options, maybe another company or something completely different."

What kept him going, he explains, were outside projects that fueled his creativity and imagination, as well as his confidence. He danced for several seasons with Daniil Simkin's touring group Intensio. And, perhaps most meaningfully, he became a repeat visitor to Damian Woetzel's yearly Vail Dance Festival in the Rockies, where he got to dance a completely new repertory: works by Balanchine and Merce Cunningham, new creations by Pam Tanowitz and others.

"Year after year, he has become ever more himself onstage," says Woetzel, who has become an important mentor. "His level of comfort in everything he does has become expansive." This year, he selected Royal to be the festival's artist in residence, leading workshops, performing in various premieres and taking part in initiatives related to the challenges boys face in ballet. "I see a real leadership quality in Calvin," says Woetzel.

Last summer at Vail, Royal danced excerpts from Apollo, one of the pinnacles of the male repertoire. A few months later, McKenzie asked him to make his debut in the full piece in New York, with ABT. It was a remarkable moment—he looked completely at home in the role of a young god. He may have to wait a little longer for his debut as Romeo, but his time, it seems, has finally come.

[k-llama-llama]

Holiday Chances

Monsta X AU: 8th member

Zoey x Monsta X

25 Days of Zoey: Day 22

Zoey has a little run in with Seungcheol at a Christmas party. Will she regret it?

A/N: no links in my posts until tumblr sorts itself out.DM me or head over to my ask box!

Please submit your requests to my Ask Box!!

“How do I look?” Zoey gave another spin in front of the mirror.

“Gorgeous, of course.” Jooheon told her. “Why are you so worked up?”

“Because,” She explained, “this is a really fancy Christmas party. And only a few idol groups got invited. I have to make a good impression.”

“In that dress...trust me, they’ll be impressed.” Changkyun told her, looking up from his phone.

“Don’t encourage it.” Kihyun scolded.

Zoey spun to face Kihyun with a grin on her face. The dress code for the event was formal, so all of the boys were in suits. The stylists had wanted to put Zoey in a black dress so she would match, but she’d fought tooth and nail to get a red dress. It was off the shoulder, exposing a bit of her back but none of her cleavage. The deep red colour with a slight shimmer was gorgeous, and it made it even more impactful when Zoey’s leg peeked out the slit in the floor-length gown.

“Sure there isn’t another reason you’re trying to look all pretty?” Minhyuk teased. “Seeing as how a certain boy group will also be there.”

Zoey face the mirror again, playing with one of the pins in her hair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” Hyungwon snorted. “Here, let me help with your hair.”

He pinned up a strand that had actually fallen loose from the up-do, and then it was time for them to enter the party.

Zoey linked her arm through Wonho’s, clasping her silver clutch (which matched her heels) in her other hand.

“My lord, you look dashing.” She teased.

He grinned. “My lady, you are the fairest maid I have ever seen.”

“Losers.” Minhyuk muttered. “Let’s go.”

They were escorted out of the dressing room and towards the staircase where pictures would be taken by the press. There were no photos inside the actual event, but there was a huge crowd of reporters gathered to catch a glimpse of idols, actors and even politicians in all of their finery.

Zoey did her best to keep her face completely neutral as they descended the stairs, despite the flash of cameras that bombarded them. As one of the only female idols attending, it was natural that a lot of the focus would be on her. Not to mention that her group-mates all looked incredibly handsome.

The second they passed through the wall of photographers Zoey was able to let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The room they entered, which was in actuality the lobby of a hotel, had been outfitted into a massive holiday party. People were milling about, talking casually but with a professional air that made all of them pause in the doorway.

“Do we divide and conquer?” Shownu asked. “Because snacks are over there.”

“And so is Seventeen!” Jooheon exclaimed. “I vote we go check out the snacks.”

“Seconded.” Zoey said weakly.

They wove their way through the crowd, Zoey still clinging to Wonho’s arm. She was pretty confident that she could manage walking in heels, but she did not feel like peeling herself off the floor if she ended up being wrong.

The second Seventeen realized who they were, they all waved. Normally there would be a more enthusiastic greeting, but the formal setting seemed to be encouraging quiet.

“Zoey!” Jun exclaimed as they stepped close. “You look so pretty.”

“Thank you.” She blushed, standing next to the table and immediately reaching for a piece of cheese.

“What about us?” Jooheon demanded, “do we not look pretty?”

Hoshi snorted lightly. “You all look great.”

“And you all look very handsome.” Zoey told them with a smile. 

It was true. All of the boys of Seventeen were wearing suits, of different fabrics and patterns, but all complimentary to each other. Zoey then realized that not all of the members seemed to be present.

She looked around, taking mental attendance of all of the faces.

“Zoey? What are you doing?” Hyungwon nudged her as he reached for some food.

She shook her head. “I think I’m losing my mind. Where’s Seungcheol? I only count twelve of you.”

“Seungcheol is right here.” Mingyu stepped to the side, revealing Seungcheol, who seemed to be desperately chugging a glass of water.

“See?” Zoey laughed. “I’m losing my mind.”

“I’m sure that’s why you were looking for him.” Minhyuk whispered in her ear.

She brought her heel down on his toe.

For the next little while, they stood around and chatted quietly. Zoey was friendly with all of the boys, but she couldn’t help but notice that Seungcheol wouldn’t meet her gaze. The only time he interacted with her was when he passed her a glass of cider from a waiter’s tray. Zoey did not like feeling like something was wrong, which almost painted a frown onto her face.

“Oh look!” Dokyeom said, pointing to the front of the room. “The entertainment is starting!”

“What’s the entertainment?” Shownu asked.

“Apparently it’s top secret until they’re onstage.” Seungkwan told them. “But the popular theory seems to be Ailee.”

“Really?” Changkyun gasped. “Do you want to go up and see if we can see better?”

A crowd was indeed forming around the stage was staff set up instruments, and it looked like they would have to push they’re way through it.

“Sure.”

“I’m down.”

Zoey shook her head lightly. “I’ll pass. This dress wasn’t really meant for close combat.”

“Do you want me to wait with you?” Shownu asked.

“Of course not.” She laughed. “I’ll just go wait out of the way. Maybe over there, where I can see clearly without fighting for my life.”

She was pointing to a little archway set on the outside of the room, where there were not many people milling around.

“If you’re sure.” Kihyun said. “Come grab us if you need us.”

“I will.”

She made her way over to the archway, settling herself onto the bench underneath it. The archway itself was made of beautifully woven flowers, and she contemplated taking a picture of it before she forced herself to turn her attention back to the stage.

Ailee came out on stage, to loud applause. As soon as she launched into her first song, the lights in the room dimmed, and almost everyone gathered around the stage.

“Mind if I sit here?” A voice interrupted her thoughts.

She looked up, slightly startled. Her heart calmed a little, but just a little, when she saw that it was Seungcheol.

“Of course.” She smiled. “Please.”

He sat next to her, leaving a comfortable amount of space between them. They watched the performance in silence for a few minutes, before Zoey decided to spark up some conversation.

“Didn’t feel like staying in the crowd?” She asked, leaning close so that he could hear her.

He shook his head. “It was just too pushy. You had the right idea, staying where it’s calmer.”

She shrugged. “I just didn’t want to ruin my dress. There wasn’t much thinking behind it.”

“Um, yeah.” He cleared his throat. “You look really nice, by the way.”

She was certain that she was blushing. “Why thank you, Seungcheol. You look very handsome, too.”

“Thanks.” He bit his lip slightly.

Some of the lights from the stage flickered over the crowd, drawing Zoey’s attention to something that was hanging over their heads.

“Oh.” She breathed.

Seungcheol followed her gaze, feeling himself forget to breathe when he spotted the mistletoe above them.

“That’s...that’s funny.” He finally offered.

“Yeah.” She agreed. “I didn’t know people still put up mistletoe at parties. It seems like an old tradition.”

“Yeah, no one even does that anymore.” He laughed nervously.

Zoey took a deep breath, feeling emboldened. Likely her courage had something to do with how good she thought she looked in the dress, but she decided to take a chance.

“I mean...it is tradition.” She said quietly. “It’s not polite to break tradition.”

Seungcheol looked to her with wide eyes. “Zo...?”

She gave a slightly forced smile. “And, I mean, no one is even watching. “

This was also true. Everyone in the nearby vicinity was busy watching Ailee perform one of her powerful ballads.

“That’s true.” He agreed softly. “Should we just...?”

“Sure.” Zoey smiled. “It’s a Christmas tradition after all.”

She had no idea where all of this confidence was coming from, especially considering the fact that she’d only kissed two guys in her life, and one of them had been Changkyun. But some little voice in the back of her head kept egging her on.

He scooted closer, leaning in slightly. “Do we just...”

Zoey leaned in and pressed her lips against his, shutting her eyes firmly. After a split second hesitation, his lips started to move gently against her own. She leaned in to it, feeling his hand clasp gently onto her own, which was resting in her lap.

When he pulled away, Zoey was in a slight daze. And from the looks of it, so was he. His eyes opened, staring into her own, still looking shocked.

“I’m sorry-” He began.

“It’s okay.” She said quickly. “Um...I kissed you first.”

“Yes, but I ...um, kissed you back?” He said nervously, his eyes drifting from her eyes to her lips.

“Ah...” Zoey leapt to her feet. “I need to go.”

“Wait, Zoey!”

She hurried off towards the crowd, gabbing onto the jacket of the first of her boys she could find. It happened to be Shownu, who turned when he felt her pull on him.

“You joining us?” He shouted over the noise.

She shook her head. “I need to go.”

“What?”

“I need to go, now!” She said frantically.

“Okay.” He agreed without hesitation. “I’ll walk you back to the dressing room, and we can text the guys.”

She nodded thankfully as he placed a hand on her back and led her out of the crowd and towards the door.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Shownu asked quietly.

Zoey turned, seeing Seungcheol approach Woozi and whisper something to him with a frantic expression on his face.

“Maybe.”