Winter Bear

Winter Bear

Genre: Roommates AU, Fluff

Pairing: Taehyung/Reader

Warnings: cursing

Synopsis: Your new roommate Taehyung can’t seem to let you work in peace. Yet, when you inevitably fall asleep working every night, you never question why you wake up in your bed.

✦✧✦✧

"Y/N! Hold still!" your roommate, Taehyung said. He brought the camera that hung around his neck up to his eyes and the flash caught you off guard. The camera was at least thirty years old and he often spent late nights on campus developing the photos himself.

"Hey!" you said. "What was that about?"

"Your hair is messed up," he said. "It framed your face well."

You weren't expecting such a serious answer. You simply blinked and took another sip of your drink. It was your second of the night and you were already beginning to feel a little tipsy.  Taehyung walked away after, continuing to take photographs of the party. You noticed Jimin posing for him--giggling and his face flushed--he'd surely regret a few of those poses in the morning.

It was only because of Jimin that you lived with Taehyung. You'd both been looking for a roommate around the same time and both mentioned it to Jimin. The two of you signed the lease before even meeting. It had been a week before classes started and you needed a place before you drained your bank account living in a hotel.

You really had no issues with Taehyung so far. Sure, you would be content simply sharing the space--you didn't expect to become friends--but Taehyung inserted himself seamlessly in your life. Just enough to not be overbearing, but enough that you occasionally wanted to wring his neck.

"So, have you and Tae fucked yet?" Jimin asked, taking a sip of his beer. He was far past tipsy and you hoped he didn't puke on your carpet. Not even a week into your new place and you were already at risk of not getting the deposit back.

"What the fuck?" you asked, hardly able to keep yourself from laughing. "We've lived together for five days. Do you think I'm that desperate?"

"Nah, I just know the effect Tae has on women."

"Do we know the same Taehyung?" You looked over at the blond who was currently snapping pictures of Yoongi, who slept on the couch farthest from the main party. "He's too pure and cute."

Jimin smirked. "Exactly."

You rolled your eyes as you poured another drink into your plastic cup. You'd started off with beer, then whiskey, and now you were onto rum and Coke. You were buzzed and you knew Jimin could tell as his eyes raked over you in concern.

"Don't drink too much," he said, cutely pouting out his lips.

"Why not? I'm already in my apartment and I won't get to party like this til winter break." You sipped your drink and bobbed your head to the music. Your demeanor shifting quickly, you grabbed hold of Jimin's wrists and drug him out into the living room where most of the partygoers were. Music thumped softly. It was just loud enough to dance to, but not so loud that the cops would get called. "Come on, show me how those dance classes have paid off."

Before long, Jimin was smiling and giggling as the two of you danced and drank and danced and drank and danced and...

You opened your eyes. There was no longer any music and you only caught a glimpse of a black T-shirt. Your head hurt and your vision blurred. A hand came out and grabbed your shoulder, it was gentle, fingertips only barely connecting with the fabric of your blouse.

"Jimin?" You reached out and took a handful of his shirt. "Is that you? It feels like you."

"Uh--"

"Mm, can you take me to my room? I feel so heavy and you're soo strong." A lazy smile came across your face. You'd always marveled that Jimin could carry you so easily despite not being that much bigger than you.

You felt yourself being lifted and arms resting under your knees and around your shoulders. Instinctively, you curled your nose into his chest. Something seemed off. After a party, Jimin normally smelled of sweat and whiskey. This time you caught a faint whiff of cologne and what you thought was Coke.

Before you could mutter anything else, your back connected with your bed, and the covers were pulled up to your chest. Your eyes closed and you heard nothing else.

✦✧✦✧

It was 11 pm and Taehyung had an early class the next day. Coming out of the bathroom, he was accustomed to seeing light seeping underneath the crack of your door. You typically got off work at 9 and he imagined that you stayed up doing homework. Although, unlike Taehyung, you didn't work weekends, making him wonder why you didn't get the majority of work done then.

Curious, he inched closer to your door. The two of you had lived together a month now. He wouldn't say you were friends, but you certainly didn't hate each other. Occasionally, the two of you would hunker down on the couch with popcorn and watch a movie. Even if you barely talked through it, the way neither of you flinched away when your hands brushed in the popcorn bowl let him know that you didn't despise him.

He knocked on your door before he could stop himself. Taehyung froze until he heard your barely audible, "Come in."

Opening the door, he found you at your desk. Notebooks and books spread across your desk, the floor, and even your lap. You and your laptop were in the middle of it all, your hair pulled up into a messy ponytail, and your makeup from work beginning to leave streaks of black under your eyes.

"What's up?" you asked, only glancing up at him before you returned to furiously typing.

"I, uh, I just noticed your light was on--is always on."

"Oh, don't worry, I won't keep you up."

"That's not--" he started, pausing when he noticed the cute way you chewed your cheek in thought. "What are you working on anyway?"

"My script," you said.

"For a class?"

"No, for me."

Taehyung perked up. "You write scripts? I'm an acting minor. You know, if you ever need someone to film with."

You stopped typing and truly met his eyes for the first time during the conversation. "Thanks," you said, your eyes narrowing and shoulders dropping. "I'll keep that in mind."

Taehyung fidgeted as he noticed your obvious annoyance. "Do--do you need anything?"

You shook your head and went back to typing. Taehyung watched you for a moment, daring you to change your mind. But, after a few moments of silence, he slowly slinked out of the room.

✦✧✦✧

It became a routine. Taehyung knocking on your door in his pajama pants a T-shirt. Usually, his hair was a little damp as he took showers before bed.

"How's the script coming?" he asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe in possibly the most cliche posture you'd ever seen.

"Fine," you said, just like every night.

"I brought you a snack," he said, walking into your room, looking between you and the door as he were trespassing and setting a bag of hot Cheetos on your desk.

"Oh, I don't like hot Cheetos," you said. "Sorry."

Taehyung's face fell. "I thought you liked spicy things?"

"Yeah, they taste too fake though. Thank you, it was really nice of you." You'd become less annoyed with Tae's late night visits, even found yourself checking the clock and listening as he got out of the shower.

You looked up and watched as Taehyung turned around and readied himself to leave. A small pang rang through your chest like a morning bell when you saw the way his shoulders were slouched and his mouth sat in a defeated line.

"Tortilla chips," you said. "I tend to crave tortilla chips when I work."

Taehyung smiled at you. It wasn't the full boxy smile you'd seen him use around Jimin or his friends, but there was something behind it that made your stomach feel warm.

✦✧✦✧

The next night Taehyung knocked lightly on your door. He held a bag of tortilla chips and tried not to crinkle it before you gave him the okay to come in.

But it never came.

"Y/N?" Taehyung asked softly. When you again didn't answer, Taehyung's brow furrowed and he slowly turned the knob, hoping he wouldn't regret going in. He opened the door and peered over to your desk. The set up was the same. Books, notebooks, your laptop, everything in their rightful places. Except for this time, your head was on the keyboard, your face turned towards the door and your mouth slightly open.

Taehyung chuckled as he realized you were asleep. Between work, homework, and the script you were working on, he honestly wondered how you stayed sane, not to mention awake. Your laptop had gone to sleep as well, but the screensaver reflected off your face and he couldn't help but chuckle as he set the chips down on your nightstand.

"You need to stop working so hard," he said. "I'm gonna  have to keep carrying you to bed."

He reached down and cleared the book off your lap, cringing as it landed with a thud on the floor. Taehyung glanced over to make sure it hadn't woken you up, but you were still sound asleep. He carefully wrapped his arms under our legs and around your shoulders, lifting you as gently as he could.

It was only a few steps to your bed, but you had managed to curl into his chest. He held back his laughter and carefully adjusted you so that he could reach down and pull back the covers. Setting you down, he pulled the covers up and piled the books and notebooks onto your desk. Taehyung quietly shuffled towards the door and shut off the light on his way out.

✦✧✦✧

You woke the next morning. You sighed, immediately feeling the rough fabric of your jeans keeping you from stretching out across the bed. Glancing over at your desk, your things were stacked neatly, something you rarely ever did. But, there were so many things you didn't remember from the night before.

You remembered coming home from work, working on your screenplay, and then only the smell of Jimin's cologne from that party a few months ago. Did Jimin come over? Did you drink? You smelled your clothes, not catching a whiff of alcohol. You shrugged, it'd been a while since you'd actually slept in your bed, normally falling asleep at your desk. Although, you typically managed to change when you got home from work. You weren't overly concerned, Jimin was one of your best friends and you knew that he probably just put you in bed and left.

Reaching for your phone, you stopped as you noticed a large bag of tortilla chips on your nightstand. You smiled as you realized that Taehyung must've come in like normal, but found you asleep.

Walking into the kitchen, you noticed Taehyung standing in front of the stove and frying a few eggs, a mug of hot chocolate half-drank on the counter beside him. Taehyung wasn't much of a cook, but he usually managed to cook himself eggs in the morning.

"Thanks for the chips," you said, opening the fridge and grabbing your protein shake. You weren't much of a morning person, so you prepared them all on the weekends so you didn't have to cook.

"Oh, you're welcome. It was really nothing." The eggs were overdone by the time he finally slid them onto the plate and you couldn't help but smile.

It was Friday which meant today was your last day of class and work.

"I, uh, just wanted to say thanks. I'll let you get ready for class."

He glanced up. His chopsticks halfway between his plate and mouth. "Do you want some eggs? I can make you some. You seemed tired last night. You probably need the protein."

"Oh, I have a protein shake," you said. "I'm okay. You really don't have to worry about me so much Tae."

You left the room, missing how Taehyung smiled at the new nickname. He pushed the eggs around his plate as he remembered how you looked with the covers pulled around you.

✦✧✦✧

The sun came through your window and the warmth hit your face pulling you out of your slumber. You were in your bed again and you couldn't help but smile at the feel of the sheet against the bare skin of your legs.

It was 9:30. A little earlier than you usually woke up on a Saturday, but the last thing you remembered the night before was working on the climax of your script. You were so close to finishing, although then you would spend all your time editing. The submission period was only a few weeks away and you couldn't miss it, even if it meant sacrificing the little sleep you got.

You walked into the living room on your way to the kitchen and jumped as you noticed a figure on the couch. Taehyung sat on the couch, in his work clothes, asleep. You'd fully expected him to be gone already. He worked the early weekend shift at the coffee shop down the street and you were used to having the apartment nearly to yourself on the weekends.

"Taehyung?" you said. Your voice soft and hesitant as you approached him. He wore a white sweatshirt and the hood was pulled over his head. Only the very ends of his hair were visible and his mouth lay slightly open. You almost didn't want to wake him up.

"Taehyung," you said again, a little louder. You touched his shoulder lightly. "Tae, shouldn't you be at work?" As neared you him, you thought you smelled something familiar, something that reminded you of cuddling into your pillow late at night.

His eyes shot open and he darted around you as he rushed to locate his keys. "Shit." He finally found his keys on the coffee table in front of him and started towards the door. "Thanks, Y/N" He shot you a kind smile before rushing out the door.

✦✧✦✧

You let out a breath and relaxed your shoulders as you hit 'Submit'. The script was finished and entered into the contest. You didn't expect to win, but it came with the opportunity for feedback and you couldn't pass that up.

A knock sounded at your door and it opened a few minutes later. Taehyung didn't need your confirmation anymore, only waiting if he heard your voice.

"Hey," he said. "I'm gonna be headed home tomorrow and I wanted to give you this before I left." From behind his back, he pulled out a massive package wrapped mostly neatly, only the edges showing some crinkling. Based on the size, you were surprised he'd even managed to keep it hidden as he walked into the room.

"Oh," you said, jumping up from your desk and opening your closet. You pulled out a significantly smaller package. "I actually got you something too."

Taehyung gapped at you in surprise. "You got me a Christmas present?"

You fidgeted. "You've always been so nice to me," you said, thinking of all the times Taehyung checked up on you and bought you snacks for your late night work. "I thought now that its break and my script is done that I should do something to pay you back."

Taehyung failed at holding back his smile. He took the package from you and motioned towards his present for you. "Open yours first."

You tore open the paper and found a body pillow. You nearly squealed in delight and hugged it to your chest. "How did you know I wanted one of these?"

Taehyung beamed. "I noticed how you always clung to me when I carried you to bed so I figured that you like to cuddle things in your sleep." When he finished the sentence, his eyes grew wide and he opened his mouth to say more, but nothing came out.

"Wait," you said. "It was you who carried me to bed after the party?"

"Uh yeah," he said. "And, kinda whenever you fell asleep at your desk." He slouched and stood awkwardly, like a scolded puppy.

You laughed. "I'm so stupid. I always thought I was sleepwalking to my bed or something. But it was you."

"Wait, so you're not mad?"

"Well, I probably should because it is a little weird, I guess. But, I think the pounds of tortilla chips and this pillow make up for it." Something made you want to run forward and fall against his chest. Smell his cologne that made your eyes immediate lull and want to close. But instead, you said, "Open yours."

He tore open the paper and opened the small box to find a stack of printed pictures. They were all from the party before classes started. When you'd first had them developed, you were surprised by how Tae seemed to capture people in their most real moments. Not their most beautiful moments or their darkest moments, but the ones where they were crying at a friend's joke or dancing as the beat dropped.

When you'd come across the one of you, with messy hair, flushed cheeks, for some reason, you thought it was the best picture of you.

"Jimin told me that you were scared to have them developed," you said. "I'm sorry if you didn't want to see them, but they're beautiful, Taehyung."

Taehyung pulled in for a hug and your head hit his chest before you could realize it. You fell into the hug naturally though, your eyes closing and your arms slinking around his waist. He didn't pull away and neither did you. Your breathing began to even out, you weren't asleep, but even though you were standing, you could easily fall asleep. Taehyung's arms around you made you feel like you were floating.

"You know," Taehyung said, his chin coming to rest on the top of your head. "You're kinda like a bear."

"What?" you asked, pulling away from his chest and looking up at him.

He looked down at you for a few moments before he reached up and pushed some hair out of your face. He smiled, more of a smirk, one corner of his mouth higher than the other.

"You come off so grumpy and like you don't want to be bothered." He lifted you off your feet, laughing as you yelped with surprise. He sat laid you on your bed, but unlike the times before, he climbed in beside you. Taehyung's arms wrapped around you and pulled you flush against his body. You turned around so you could bury your nose in his T-shirt. Right at the divet between his collarbones.

You hardly could question your actions or his for that matter. You'd be lying if you said that you hadn't thought about resting your head on his chest or feeling his warm breath on your ears. Or, that you hadn't noticed Taehyung's odd glances when you came into the common areas in a pair of shorts that hugged your skin so well that you almost forgot you were wearing them.

You already felt yourself falling asleep. The tension from your neck and shoulders releasing and Tae's hands pushing your hair back only made you want to spend the winter hibernating in his arms. He pressed a small, hesitant kiss to your hairline.

"But, you really just want someone to cuddle you. Just like a bear."

Winter Bear

Genre: Roommates AU, Fluff

Pairing: Taehyung/Reader

Warnings: cursing

Synopsis: Your new roommate Taehyung can’t seem to let you work in peace. Yet, when you inevitably fall asleep working every night, you never question why you wake up in your bed.

✦✧✦✧

“Y/N! Hold still!” your roommate, Taehyung said. He brought the camera that hung around his neck up to his eyes and the flash caught you off guard. The camera was at least thirty years old and he often spent late nights on campus developing the photos himself.

“Hey!” you said. “What was that about?”

“Your hair is messed up,” he said. “It framed your face well.”

You weren’t expecting such a serious answer. You simply blinked and took another sip of your drink. It was your second of the night and you were already beginning to feel a little tipsy.  Taehyung walked away after, continuing to take photographs of the party. You noticed Jimin posing for him–giggling and his face flushed–he’d surely regret a few of those poses in the morning.

It was only because of Jimin that you lived with Taehyung. You’d both been looking for a roommate around the same time and both mentioned it to Jimin. The two of you signed the lease before even meeting. It had been a week before classes started and you needed a place before you drained your bank account living in a hotel.

You really had no issues with Taehyung so far. Sure, you would be content simply sharing the space–you didn’t expect to become friends–but Taehyung inserted himself seamlessly in your life. Just enough to not be overbearing, but enough that you occasionally wanted to wring his neck.

“So, have you and Tae fucked yet?” Jimin asked, taking a sip of his beer. He was far past tipsy and you hoped he didn’t puke on your carpet. Not even a week into your new place and you were already at risk of not getting the deposit back.

“What the fuck?” you asked, hardly able to keep yourself from laughing. “We’ve lived together for five days. Do you think I’m that desperate?”

“Nah, I just know the effect Tae has on women.”

“Do we know the same Taehyung?” You looked over at the blond who was currently snapping pictures of Yoongi, who slept on the couch farthest from the main party. “He’s too pure and cute.”

Jimin smirked. “Exactly.”

You rolled your eyes as you poured another drink into your plastic cup. You’d started off with beer, then whiskey, and now you were onto rum and Coke. You were buzzed and you knew Jimin could tell as his eyes raked over you in concern.

“Don’t drink too much,” he said, cutely pouting out his lips.

“Why not? I’m already in my apartment and I won’t get to party like this til winter break.” You sipped your drink and bobbed your head to the music. Your demeanor shifting quickly, you grabbed hold of Jimin’s wrists and drug him out into the living room where most of the partygoers were. Music thumped softly. It was just loud enough to dance to, but not so loud that the cops would get called. “Come on, show me how those dance classes have paid off.”

Before long, Jimin was smiling and giggling as the two of you danced and drank and danced and drank and danced and…

You opened your eyes. There was no longer any music and you only caught a glimpse of a black T-shirt. Your head hurt and your vision blurred. A hand came out and grabbed your shoulder, it was gentle, fingertips only barely connecting with the fabric of your blouse.

“Jimin?” You reached out and took a handful of his shirt. “Is that you? It feels like you.”

“Uh–”

“Mm, can you take me to my room? I feel so heavy and you’re soo strong.” A lazy smile came across your face. You’d always marveled that Jimin could carry you so easily despite not being that much bigger than you.

You felt yourself being lifted and arms resting under your knees and around your shoulders. Instinctively, you curled your nose into his chest. Something seemed off. After a party, Jimin normally smelled of sweat and whiskey. This time you caught a faint whiff of cologne and what you thought was Coke.

Before you could mutter anything else, your back connected with your bed, and the covers were pulled up to your chest. Your eyes closed and you heard nothing else.

✦✧✦✧

It was 11 pm and Taehyung had an early class the next day. Coming out of the bathroom, he was accustomed to seeing light seeping underneath the crack of your door. You typically got off work at 9 and he imagined that you stayed up doing homework. Although, unlike Taehyung, you didn’t work weekends, making him wonder why you didn’t get the majority of work done then.

Curious, he inched closer to your door. The two of you had lived together a month now. He wouldn’t say you were friends, but you certainly didn’t hate each other. Occasionally, the two of you would hunker down on the couch with popcorn and watch a movie. Even if you barely talked through it, the way neither of you flinched away when your hands brushed in the popcorn bowl let him know that you didn’t despise him.

He knocked on your door before he could stop himself. Taehyung froze until he heard your barely audible, “Come in.”

Opening the door, he found you at your desk. Notebooks and books spread across your desk, the floor, and even your lap. You and your laptop were in the middle of it all, your hair pulled up into a messy ponytail, and your makeup from work beginning to leave streaks of black under your eyes.

“What’s up?” you asked, only glancing up at him before you returned to furiously typing.

“I, uh, I just noticed your light was on–is always on.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t keep you up.”

“That’s not–” he started, pausing when he noticed the cute way you chewed your cheek in thought. “What are you working on anyway?”

“My script,” you said.

“For a class?”

“No, for me.”

Taehyung perked up. “You write scripts? I’m an acting minor. You know, if you ever need someone to film with.”

You stopped typing and truly met his eyes for the first time during the conversation. “Thanks,” you said, your eyes narrowing and shoulders dropping. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Taehyung fidgeted as he noticed your obvious annoyance. “Do–do you need anything?”

You shook your head and went back to typing. Taehyung watched you for a moment, daring you to change your mind. But, after a few moments of silence, he slowly slinked out of the room.

✦✧✦✧

It became a routine. Taehyung knocking on your door in his pajama pants a T-shirt. Usually, his hair was a little damp as he took showers before bed.

“How’s the script coming?” he asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe in possibly the most cliche posture you’d ever seen.

“Fine,” you said, just like every night.

“I brought you a snack,” he said, walking into your room, looking between you and the door as he were trespassing and setting a bag of hot Cheetos on your desk.

“Oh, I don’t like hot Cheetos,” you said. “Sorry.”

Taehyung’s face fell. “I thought you liked spicy things?”

“Yeah, they taste too fake though. Thank you, it was really nice of you.” You’d become less annoyed with Tae’s late night visits, even found yourself checking the clock and listening as he got out of the shower.

You looked up and watched as Taehyung turned around and readied himself to leave. A small pang rang through your chest like a morning bell when you saw the way his shoulders were slouched and his mouth sat in a defeated line.

“Tortilla chips,” you said. “I tend to crave tortilla chips when I work.”

Taehyung smiled at you. It wasn’t the full boxy smile you’d seen him use around Jimin or his friends, but there was something behind it that made your stomach feel warm.

✦✧✦✧

The next night Taehyung knocked lightly on your door. He held a bag of tortilla chips and tried not to crinkle it before you gave him the okay to come in.

But it never came.

“Y/N?” Taehyung asked softly. When you again didn’t answer, Taehyung’s brow furrowed and he slowly turned the knob, hoping he wouldn’t regret going in. He opened the door and peered over to your desk. The set up was the same. Books, notebooks, your laptop, everything in their rightful places. Except for this time, your head was on the keyboard, your face turned towards the door and your mouth slightly open.

Taehyung chuckled as he realized you were asleep. Between work, homework, and the script you were working on, he honestly wondered how you stayed sane, not to mention awake. Your laptop had gone to sleep as well, but the screensaver reflected off your face and he couldn’t help but chuckle as he set the chips down on your nightstand.

“You need to stop working so hard,” he said. “I’m gonna  have to keep carrying you to bed.”

He reached down and cleared the book off your lap, cringing as it landed with a thud on the floor. Taehyung glanced over to make sure it hadn’t woken you up, but you were still sound asleep. He carefully wrapped his arms under our legs and around your shoulders, lifting you as gently as he could.

It was only a few steps to your bed, but you had managed to curl into his chest. He held back his laughter and carefully adjusted you so that he could reach down and pull back the covers. Setting you down, he pulled the covers up and piled the books and notebooks onto your desk. Taehyung quietly shuffled towards the door and shut off the light on his way out.

✦✧✦✧

You woke the next morning. You sighed, immediately feeling the rough fabric of your jeans keeping you from stretching out across the bed. Glancing over at your desk, your things were stacked neatly, something you rarely ever did. But, there were so many things you didn’t remember from the night before.

You remembered coming home from work, working on your screenplay, and then only the smell of Jimin’s cologne from that party a few months ago. Did Jimin come over? Did you drink? You smelled your clothes, not catching a whiff of alcohol. You shrugged, it’d been a while since you’d actually slept in your bed, normally falling asleep at your desk. Although, you typically managed to change when you got home from work. You weren’t overly concerned, Jimin was one of your best friends and you knew that he probably just put you in bed and left.

Reaching for your phone, you stopped as you noticed a large bag of tortilla chips on your nightstand. You smiled as you realized that Taehyung must’ve come in like normal, but found you asleep.

Walking into the kitchen, you noticed Taehyung standing in front of the stove and frying a few eggs, a mug of hot chocolate half-drank on the counter beside him. Taehyung wasn’t much of a cook, but he usually managed to cook himself eggs in the morning.

“Thanks for the chips,” you said, opening the fridge and grabbing your protein shake. You weren’t much of a morning person, so you prepared them all on the weekends so you didn’t have to cook.

“Oh, you’re welcome. It was really nothing.” The eggs were overdone by the time he finally slid them onto the plate and you couldn’t help but smile.

It was Friday which meant today was your last day of class and work.

“I, uh, just wanted to say thanks. I’ll let you get ready for class.”

He glanced up. His chopsticks halfway between his plate and mouth. “Do you want some eggs? I can make you some. You seemed tired last night. You probably need the protein.”

“Oh, I have a protein shake,” you said. “I’m okay. You really don’t have to worry about me so much Tae.”

You left the room, missing how Taehyung smiled at the new nickname. He pushed the eggs around his plate as he remembered how you looked with the covers pulled around you.

✦✧✦✧

The sun came through your window and the warmth hit your face pulling you out of your slumber. You were in your bed again and you couldn’t help but smile at the feel of the sheet against the bare skin of your legs.

It was 9:30. A little earlier than you usually woke up on a Saturday, but the last thing you remembered the night before was working on the climax of your script. You were so close to finishing, although then you would spend all your time editing. The submission period was only a few weeks away and you couldn’t miss it, even if it meant sacrificing the little sleep you got.

You walked into the living room on your way to the kitchen and jumped as you noticed a figure on the couch. Taehyung sat on the couch, in his work clothes, asleep. You’d fully expected him to be gone already. He worked the early weekend shift at the coffee shop down the street and you were used to having the apartment nearly to yourself on the weekends.

“Taehyung?” you said. Your voice soft and hesitant as you approached him. He wore a white sweatshirt and the hood was pulled over his head. Only the very ends of his hair were visible and his mouth lay slightly open. You almost didn’t want to wake him up.

“Taehyung,” you said again, a little louder. You touched his shoulder lightly. “Tae, shouldn’t you be at work?” As neared you him, you thought you smelled something familiar, something that reminded you of cuddling into your pillow late at night.

His eyes shot open and he darted around you as he rushed to locate his keys. “Shit.” He finally found his keys on the coffee table in front of him and started towards the door. “Thanks, Y/N” He shot you a kind smile before rushing out the door.

✦✧✦✧

You let out a breath and relaxed your shoulders as you hit ‘Submit’. The script was finished and entered into the contest. You didn’t expect to win, but it came with the opportunity for feedback and you couldn’t pass that up.

A knock sounded at your door and it opened a few minutes later. Taehyung didn’t need your confirmation anymore, only waiting if he heard your voice.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m gonna be headed home tomorrow and I wanted to give you this before I left.” From behind his back, he pulled out a massive package wrapped mostly neatly, only the edges showing some crinkling. Based on the size, you were surprised he’d even managed to keep it hidden as he walked into the room.

“Oh,” you said, jumping up from your desk and opening your closet. You pulled out a significantly smaller package. “I actually got you something too.”

Taehyung gapped at you in surprise. “You got me a Christmas present?”

You fidgeted. “You’ve always been so nice to me,” you said, thinking of all the times Taehyung checked up on you and bought you snacks for your late night work. “I thought now that its break and my script is done that I should do something to pay you back.”

Taehyung failed at holding back his smile. He took the package from you and motioned towards his present for you. “Open yours first.”

You tore open the paper and found a body pillow. You nearly squealed in delight and hugged it to your chest. “How did you know I wanted one of these?”

Taehyung beamed. “I noticed how you always clung to me when I carried you to bed so I figured that you like to cuddle things in your sleep.” When he finished the sentence, his eyes grew wide and he opened his mouth to say more, but nothing came out.

“Wait,” you said. “It was you who carried me to bed after the party?”

“Uh yeah,” he said. “And, kinda whenever you fell asleep at your desk.” He slouched and stood awkwardly, like a scolded puppy.

You laughed. “I’m so stupid. I always thought I was sleepwalking to my bed or something. But it was you.”

“Wait, so you’re not mad?”

“Well, I probably should because it is a little weird, I guess. But, I think the pounds of tortilla chips and this pillow make up for it.” Something made you want to run forward and fall against his chest. Smell his cologne that made your eyes immediate lull and want to close. But instead, you said, “Open yours.”

He tore open the paper and opened the small box to find a stack of printed pictures. They were all from the party before classes started. When you’d first had them developed, you were surprised by how Tae seemed to capture people in their most real moments. Not their most beautiful moments or their darkest moments, but the ones where they were crying at a friend’s joke or dancing as the beat dropped.

When you’d come across the one of you, with messy hair, flushed cheeks, for some reason, you thought it was the best picture of you.

“Jimin told me that you were scared to have them developed,” you said. “I’m sorry if you didn’t want to see them, but they’re beautiful, Taehyung.”

Taehyung pulled in for a hug and your head hit his chest before you could realize it. You fell into the hug naturally though, your eyes closing and your arms slinking around his waist. He didn’t pull away and neither did you. Your breathing began to even out, you weren’t asleep, but even though you were standing, you could easily fall asleep. Taehyung’s arms around you made you feel like you were floating.

“You know,” Taehyung said, his chin coming to rest on the top of your head. “You’re kinda like a bear.”

“What?” you asked, pulling away from his chest and looking up at him.

He looked down at you for a few moments before he reached up and pushed some hair out of your face. He smiled, more of a smirk, one corner of his mouth higher than the other.

“You come off so grumpy and like you don’t want to be bothered.” He lifted you off your feet, laughing as you yelped with surprise. He sat laid you on your bed, but unlike the times before, he climbed in beside you. Taehyung’s arms wrapped around you and pulled you flush against his body. You turned around so you could bury your nose in his T-shirt. Right at the divet between his collarbones.

You hardly could question your actions or his for that matter. You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t thought about resting your head on his chest or feeling his warm breath on your ears. Or, that you hadn’t noticed Taehyung’s odd glances when you came into the common areas in a pair of shorts that hugged your skin so well that you almost forgot you were wearing them.

You already felt yourself falling asleep. The tension from your neck and shoulders releasing and Tae’s hands pushing your hair back only made you want to spend the winter hibernating in his arms. He pressed a small, hesitant kiss to your hairline.

“But, you really just want someone to cuddle you. Just like a bear.”

cityoffandoms-yjn20

Interviewer note: Before we start off with the interview, you will notice something different in this interview. The last two questions are listed as “reader questions” this is because this lovely writer was recommended to me by someone, so I allowed that reader to ask a couple personalized questions. I will keep this rule for any suggestions I get that lead to an interview! All right, now onto the intervew! Thank you!

--Alyce

Before we get to the formal questions, do you mind introducing yourself (any name you are comfortable using or want to use) and telling us a little about yourself?

Hey guys, I’m Hania. Nia for short. I’m a 23-year-old graduate still trying to find a place in this world. When I’m not busy being an adult or writing, I’m usually traveling, hiking, reading or just lazing around at home watching movies and daydreaming. I have been an ARMY since 2013 but I only started writing for BTS in June ’18. I aspire to work in the neuroscience research laboratory one day and I hope to save up and travel around the world.

Thank you for interviewing me, it’s such an honor and motivator for me.   

Q1: You mainly write for BTS and GOT7. Have you ever written for any fandoms and/or outside of Kpop?

A1: Now that I think about it, no. All of my fanfics are either related or inspired by BTS and GOT7 or Korean dramas. I do have several stories written with original characters and such but I never posted them.

Q2: You also seem to have an abundance of short works like imagines, reactions, etc., but you do have a few fics and longer pieces. Do you prefer writing in shorter forms or do you have a preference?

A2: It really depends on my schedule to be honest. At the moment I love doing reactions and imagines cause of having a packed schedule and also I get to dabble in different topics and such. For fanfics, I get obsessed with a storyline when I start writing it but when I post it, I actually break them into several chapters cause sometimes I might add something that I did not originally think of. I would love to write longer stories but at the moment I definitely prefer to write and post shorter pieces.

Q3: You also make moodboards! Which is something I actually don’t know a ton about. Do you mind walking us through how a moodboard works? How you pick images? Etc.

A3: Oh oh so moodboards are really fun for me to do, I either get an idea from looking at a picture, writing a reaction or just my own imagination. So I kinda have a general theme for a moodboard, like I’m working on a Mafia and Traveling in Paris themed moodboard at the moment. So the mafia theme is due to my fanfic Best Of Me, that’s where I get my idea from. As for the Paris theme, it’s due to the pictures BTS posted recently. So I would try to find at least 2 similar or coordinated selfies/pictures of each member and I would search for places in Paris and cross match the pictures to see if they fit the aesthetic.  

Q4: Do write anything outside of fan fiction?

A4: Not really other than laboratory and scientific research reports, I don’t.

Q5: When you first started writing fan fiction were you scared to post it online?

A5: I was absolutely TERRIFIED. Even back in High School I would write a lot of essays cause I wanted to improve. So, at times the teacher would read it out to the class and it would just make me so embarrassed and afraid cause of the reaction I got from my classmates. Also I kinda stopped writing for 4 years cause of uni and all so when I did get back to writing, to me it felt just rusty, awkward and unreadable.

Q6: Why did you begin writing fan fiction? If it was for a fandom, why did that particular thing make you begin writing? And, for your current fandoms?

A6: It was for Moon Lovers Scarlet Heart: Ryeo actually, a Korean drama. I hated the ending with a burning passion and I’m not even kidding, I literally cried for a week over the drama cause I invested so much time and feelings into it. Sometimes I would wake up in the middle of the night kinda feeling empty and sad, but like one day, out of nowhere, I had a dream of an alternate ending and also a different aspect of the storyline so I wrote it down and came up with a new plot.

As for my current writings, I’ve been an ARMY since 2013 and Ahgase since 2015, I’ve read countless fanfics, reactions, imagines etc. But at times I would have ideas or scenarios of a certain reaction or genre and I would just daydream about it and never write it down. But I was talking about mafias and I just had this idea for BTS and I just had to write it and post it. That’s how this fanfic blog started and I slowly branched out to reactions and such.

Q7: Do you ever want to be published in a professional capacity one day?

A7: I would absolutely love to! I want to work in the scientific research field, so I would love for my scientific research, data, and findings to be published. And being a little more ambitious I would love for my writings to be published as well.

Q8: Has writing fan fiction taught you anything? About writing? Reading? The fandom? Etc.

A8: A lot of things actually, I never realized I had such different sides of me. I’m someone who has anxiety and depression so writing helps me cope in so many ways. Whenever I’m worried or angry or happy I write and it kinda eases the pain and lets me shift my focus on writing. I get to pour my feelings and whatever I’m going through, into my writings so that has been of tremendous help. With every piece I write, I’m actually utilizing my own experience and feelings, without realizing I’m showing or opening up a new side of me and it shows in my writing, which surprised me really cause I learn something new about myself.

For the fandom, just the immense love and support you get, I have interacted with countless friendly ARMYs and Ahgases before writing, but to have people reach out to you, take some time and let you know about your content and be so positive, it feels so surreal to me like wow you read my stuff and you like it? Thank you.

As for reading, there is just so much content out there to be read. I used to stick to just specific genres but as I started writing again, I started reading different types of genres and there are just so much great content and stories out there which I never gave a chance to cause I was too focused on a handful of genres. As for writing, I learned that you improve every single day as long as you continue writing, even if you write a sentence every day you are improving.

Q9: Do you notice any stigma surrounding fan fiction or fan fiction writers?

A9: That we are a bunch of obsessive, delusional and pervertic fangirls/boys writing to feed our delusions and obsessions. Also that we are not creative enough to come up with our own characters so we ‘utilize’ real people or existing characters. Or that the imagines/fanfics/reactions are NOT REAL (like yes, that’s why it’s categorized as fanfiction, that’s the very definition of fanfic)  I’ve actually read and heard these kinda comments before.

Q10: If so, how do you feel about this stigma?

A10: I used to be so adamant about proving to people who said these things that we are anything but whatever they say about us but after a while, I realized why should I work so hard to prove them wrong when I can work hard to create better content and to maybe make at least 1 person smile or forget their worries for a few minutes. That change in my mindset was one of the best things cause I opened up myself to trying to create better content with a meaningful purpose and it’s been great. I still do get mean messages but I don’t dwell on the messages I simply delete and move on. As world wide handsome Kim Seok Jin once said, I don’t have think.  

Q11: Is there anything you’ve ever wanted to talk about or be asked that no one has asked you about or given you the opportunity to talk about?

A11: Hmmm well it’s actually such a broad question but I think about my transition from being a teenager to being an adult. I attended university a year earlier so I could not really talk to my friends about what I was going through at times and my classmates were older than me. So I was at this awkward phase, trying to deal with things coming at me all at once. Yeah I have never really talked about it.

Q12: Reader Question: How has K-pop in general affected your life?

A12:  I was introduced to k-pop by my best friend (more like forced) but yeah it has been 8 years and I’m still thankful she introduced me to k-pop. High School was all sorts of messed up so k-pop was like an escape for me. I entered uni the same year BTS debuted so for some reason I felt a special connection with them and I felt like I was growing with them, learning with them. BTS has been my savior, my motivators and my escape. And in general, k-pop has really affected me in a positive way, I depend on k-pop when I’m going through difficult times and I turn to k-pop when I achieve something or when I’m happy too.  

Q13: Reader Question: What memory instantly makes you smile?

A13:   There are A LOT of memories that make me smile instantly but as of recent, karaoke session with my best friend at 4am. We were just all over the place doing weird things and singing our heart out. Just thinking about it makes me smile and roll my eyes wahahaha.

Thank you so much for interviewing me! I had such a great time to ponder over the questions and kinda revisit and talk about why and how I started writing fanfics. And you have been so sweet and kind throughout so thank you Alyce. Also, I really hope my writings are able to make someone out there forget their woes and worries for a minute and smile. Thank you for reading and have a great week!  

Find Hania’s Tumblr page here  and her Masterlist.

pingo1387 Interview

ABefore we get started with the questions, would you mind introducing yourself and telling us just a little about yourself?

Sure! I write under pingo1387 online on FanFiction.net, Archive of Our Own, and Tumblr. Fanfiction was the first kind of writing I posted in a public internet space, and I’ve been posting it since for about six or seven years fairly regularly.

Q1: What kind of fan fiction do you write/ have you written?

A1: All sorts of genres. I’ve written long high school AUs, tragic romances, fairy tale-based stories, and plenty of adventure. Right now I’m in the middle of writing mostly romances with a few friendship-themed adventures and an AU set in 20th-century America.

Q2: What made you start writing fan fiction?

A2: I started writing in 9th grade, and the main reason I wrote was because I had an idea for a crossover fanfic that I wanted to make a comic out of, but I couldn’t draw to save my life (I still can’t). I’d always had a pretty good grasp on grammar and read a lot, so I decided I’d write a fanfic about it instead and make a comic later (I never did).

Q3: Were you scared to begin posting it online?

A3: I sure was. Part of the fear came from Fanfiction.net’s comment system being called “reviews,” which made me think people would be posting paragraphs of criticisms and critiques, since the only kind of review I was familiar with was newspaper columns rating new films and novels. I was pleasantly surprised when this not only was not the case, but that people actually liked the story!

Q4: Has writing fan fiction taught you anything? About writing? Reading? Something else?

A4: Writing fanfic has definitely helped me improve my writing skills, simply because I wrote so frequently and reread my own stories, figuring out what worked and what didn’t. It also taught me to be more patient when waiting for updates from other authors, now that I knew how difficult it was to upload more than once every few weeks!

Q5: Do you ever want to be published in a professional capacity one day?

A5: Absolutely. I have some original stories in mind, and I’d love to make a living off of them while seeing other people enjoy them.

Q6: How you feel about the stigma surrounding fan fiction and fan fiction writers? Or, do you not feel any stigma at all?

A6: I feel like there is some stigma regarding what fanfiction is and what its writers are like—that it’s not real writing, that it’s all porn, and that it’s generally terrible. Fanfic and its writers get a bad rap.

Q7: Do you think that stigma is warranted? (Whether or not you have personally experience it?)

A7: It’s absolutely unwarranted. I believe if you look up statistics, you’ll find that most fanfic isn’t explicitly sexual, and of course there is plenty of bad fanfic out there, but there’s plenty of bad published writing, too, and a lot of fanfic writers are not professional and/or just starting out as writers. Of course there’s going to be bad writing; you can say that about almost any site with writing, fanfic or not, on the internet.

As for it being “real writing,” first off, what defines real writing? Does it have to be professionally published, hit a bestseller list, win a Hugo award? Does it need to have a blockbuster film based on it? Does it need to be in classical Greek, written by a scholar only two people in the world have heard of?

Guess what? Even if you say yes to any of those, there’s a lot more fanfic in the world than you might realize. Paradise Lost is essentially fanfiction of the Book of Genesis from the Bible. Medieval painters in Italy often painted scenes from the Bible, making many famous paintings fanart. Dante’s Inferno is a self-insert, one of the most ridiculed kinds of fanfic, into the Catholic afterlife, where he meets many famous and infamous figures (not unlike a so-called “Mary-Sue” self-insert who gets to meet her favorite characters all in the span of two chapters). Pride and Prejudice and Zombies is a horror fanfic of Pride and Prejudice. I could go on, but you get the idea. There are so few truly original ideas simply because everything has been done, and fanfic just takes recycling ideas to the next step.

Q8:  What’s your favorite piece of fan fiction you’ve ever written? Why?

A8: Currently my favorite piece is a one-shot called “Swallow Your Soul,” a One Piece AU fanfic with the premise that a mysterious affliction is negatively affecting people with powers. My guilty pleasure favorite is a Hetalia high school fanfic, spanning three long stories and written over the course of three or four years.

Q9:  What’s something you’ve never been asked but want to be?

A9: For various stories, I’d love to be asked how I came up with certain aspects, where an idea came from, or for details on a worldbuilding thing I never had the chance to fully elaborate on in the story. I love rambling about those sorts of things, and if any one of the answers is that it’s a reference/homage to something, then I’d jump at the chance to talk about where it came from, because it’s probably something favorite of mine.

Q10: Do you write outside of fan fiction?

A10: A little bit, yes. At the moment, schoolwork and fanfic keep me occupied, but I’m trying to put together characters and plots for original stories that I hope to sell one day. One is a collection of connected short stories, and the other is a YA fantasy-style adventure.

Q11: What site you (mainly) use to write fan fiction?

A11: I’ve been on Fanfiction.net for my entire fanfic writing career. I occasionally post one-shots or drabbles on Tumblr in response to events or requests, and I’m working on rewriting my favorite Fanfiction.net stories to post on AO3, as well as planning to post any new stories on both FFN and AO3.

Q12: Why do you write fan fiction?

A12: It’s still the best medium for me to get my ideas out into the world. It’s easier for me to use characters I’m familiar with for stories, even if the settings are unfamiliar, and though I’m developing my own characters, I don’t know them well enough to write them in anything outside the main story I’m planning for them. It’s very fun to play with the characters I know and put them in new situations, and writing stories several thousand words long over and over is great practice for when I finally submit something to be professionally published.

Find pingo1387 on Tumblr, FanFiction.net, and Archive of Our Own.

hey if ur reading this and ur in a bad spot mentally or anything i hope u feel better soon and have a good day

Pas de Deux

Genre: Nutcracker AU, Swan Lake AU, slight Fantasy AU

Pairing: Jimin/Reader

Warnings: mild depictions of violence

Synopsis: When you were just a baby, Herr Drosselmeyer cured your feet. Becoming a dancer, some believe your ability is related to his magic. Even your dance partner, Jimin. Herr Drosselmeyer comes the Christmas Eve night before your performance in Swan Lake, a turning point in your career. After a frustrating rehearsal where you and Jimin couldn’t get the lift right, you find that the nutcracker gifted to you by Herr Drosselmeyer may be just as magical as the man himself.

Note: Hello, Tumblr! I’m Alyce and I normally write on Wattpad, but I decided to start crossposting my imagines and one shots here. And, maybe move towards making Tumblr my main platform. Bear with me as I learn how to use Tumblr. I may change up things or make some mistakes (such as the dividers in this post are likely not centered lmao. Enjoy!

✦✧✦✧

Your godfather only came into your life every few years. He always brought with him gifts from around the world, little worlds on their own. You remembered how on your eleventh birthday he brought you marzipan from Germany, alpaca wool mittens from South America, and sesame snaps from China. He had not come to visit since, although you'd heard of him throughout the years.

He'd made the emperor of Japan disappear for ten minutes. Your godfather turned sawdust into wooden planks in America. But, most famously, your godfather mended your feet.

✦✧✦✧

You were born on the night before Christmas Eve. Snowdrifts reached the eaves and your father had spent most of the day shoveling the door while your mother cried out. Her labor had begun in the early hours of the morning, but neither the doctor nor you had arrived by evening.

The doctor arrived after dark and Herr Drosselmeyer appeared just before ten o'clock. Herr Drosselmeyer rarely attended births in the village, but your mother, despite her sweaty brow and exhaustion cried out when she saw the man.

Herr Drosselmeyer rarely attended births in the village. His abilities were better suited for other matters. Yet, occasionally, a child was born that summoned the magician. Most believed that destiny controlled the man, a truly divine being on Earth. If you asked Drosselmeyer, he would say that he knew all along where he would end up, but there was always a glint in his eye that told otherwise. The man's excitement and surprise astounding even himself.

"I feel your child will dance," your future godfather said. "One of the best dancers in the land. I have no idea why such a thing should concern me." He stood in the corner of the room, his height caused the crown of his head to nearly touch the ceiling.

You were born about a half hour after Herr Drosselmeyer's arrival. Your parents relaxed as you began crying nearly immediately. Their fears that the magician's appearance meant your death or eternal ill health ceased.

"A girl," the doctor said. He cleaned you off and he brought the rag down to your feet and paused. "Herr Drosselmeyer, I believe I understand why this child requires your presence."

Your parents, the doctor, and the magician gathered around you. You already had sprigs of thick hair that stood up on your head and your eyes were wide as if you were trying to memorize the four faces in front of your own.

Your mother gasped when she saw your feet. They curled in on themselves and each toe was crooked at a different angle. You didn't seem to notice, no pain crossing your features as the doctor felt your bone structure.

"The child will certainly never walk," the doctor said. "She's lacking many bones of the foot and I suspect her muscles would never fully develop this way."

Your parents looked to the magician who looked down at you with the same interest he would study characters of an unfamiliar language. His hands replaced the doctor's, except that he placed his palm flat against your heel, the only part of your foot that appeared intact.

"Your observations were astute," he said to the doctor. "But, this child will dance one day, not just walk."

✦✧✦✧

For the first two years of your life, you're told that Herr Drosselmeyer visited you every week. He would place his palms against your heal and close his eyes. You never cried at his touch. Most of the time you simply looked up at him with wide, clear eyes.

For the first few months, he would place his hand against your tiny, slow-growing foot. No magic appeared to take place, but he told your parents he was gaining an understanding of how your bones worked. How they curled in on each other and formed intricate spirals. They were as fragile as a horse's leg, a break of one bone would mean losing all the others.

When you were five months old, it was the middle of spring and you always smiled at Herr Drosselmeyer's appearance. It was most likely because of the chorus of violins that played from the music box he'd gifted you on your first Christmas when you were just two days old. It played music whenever he arrived.

At that visit, what looked like thick, red liquid passed from Drosselmeyer's hands and wrapped around your fragile foot. There were no visible changes until you were one year old when the arch of your foot became visible. You had unusually high arches with the peak of your arch not touching the ground if you laid it flat on the ground.

As expected, you did not start walking at the usual time. You tried, your formed heels and arches allowed you to stand, but your curled toes and balls sent you toppling over whenever you tried to take your first step. Whenever this happened, your mother would rush towards you and make you promise to never try again, yet, you always did.

✦✧✦✧

Just before your second birthday, your parents took you to see the orchestra. As the music started, you sat forward in your chair, your feet kicking outwards. The horns and the flutes and the harp hypnotized you. You hardly realized when your arms swung above your head and you landed on your heels in front of your seat.

Your mother reached for you, but something stopped her as she noticed the natural way you found balance on your heels like a flamingo in water. Surely, balancing on the back of your feet was not the standard form or practice, but there was grace as you brought your left foot up above your shoulder. If you'd had toes, they would've been at a perfect point.

Herr Drosselmeyer came a few days later on your second birthday. As usual, he laid his hands against your arch and heel, the red colored magic encompassing your foot. This time the ball of your foot formed, only your toes remained at odd, crooked angles.

After his treatment, he presented you with the first present you remember receiving. He'd wrapped it in a petite box and it was wrapped in a silk cloth. You opened the box and unwrapped the cloth to reveal a wooden nutcracker.

The nutcracker was about a foot tall. He wore a green colored uniform and black tufts of hair stuck out from beneath his soldier's cap. You looked at his wooden skin and blue eyes, not having the vocabulary to explain how beautiful you thought he was. That night, your mother placed him on your vanity and he stood guard over your bed for the years to come.

✦✧✦✧

Jimin's hands touched your waist as he lifted you higher than you could jump during the first lift of the pas de deux. The move was simple. Jimin holding your waist and lifting you as you lifted your legs in a flowing motion You'd completed it plenty of times with other dancers. Yet, every time his hands brushed your waist, you landed hard on the heel of your foot, occasionally feeling your knee knock, threatening dislocation.

"Damn it, Y/N," Jimin said, "if we can't do this how are we going to dance at all." He ran his hand through his hair. "You need to get a hold of yourself. Focus on the landing."

You scoffed. "I am! You're holding me too tightly!" To prove him wrong, you performed the move on your own, leaping in the air with your legs out in front of you. You landed on your right foot and performed a pirouette only to show that it couldn't possibly be you.

"Your shoes don't even fit right," he said, gesturing down to your ill-fitting pointe shoes. "That's probably causing all of this."

You stayed silent, knowing that he brought up a solid point. Every night you soaked your bruised, raw feet in warm water and soothing salts, sometimes falling asleep in the chair. Pointe shoes needed to fit well, if not for the quality of the dance than to spare the dancer's feet. Every ballerina knew the perils of aching feet and blisters, but non-fitting pointe shoes only made them worse.

"I'm working on it," you said, sitting down beside him and doing some stretches. "You know it's not exactly easy finding shoes that fit."

While your godfather mended your feet by the time you turned four and could begin ballet, pointe shoes never fit completely right. Sometimes, when you pushed yourself too far during practice, you'd see your toes curl inward and you'd feel panic rise in your chest until you were able to extend them on your own.

Jimin didn't say anything more, but you suspected he didn't quite believe you. All of your fellow dancers knew of Herr Drosselmeyer and how he had fixed your feet. Some believed that he was the one who was responsible for your talent, your grace. That when he mended your feet he'd somehow infused an inherent gift for ballet.

You weren't sure where Jimin stood on the rumors. While you were certain that he held some resentment for you, he'd never contested you gaining the lead opposite him in Swan Lake.

"Let's start from the beginning," you said. "We have to get the pas de deux right." You stood up and took the beginning stance, waiting for Jimin to join you. This was the moment that the audience realized that Prince Seigfried is being deceived when Odile is introduced, when the true reality of the story begins to unfold. What starts as a love story becomes a tragedy.

He stood across the room from you and the music started. You bounded towards each other as the choreography dictated. Everything went smoothly as you approached the first lift. Jimin's hands came to your waist and the move was completed. Yet, you still came down a bit too hard on your feet. While you should vary the technique to play the black swan, hinting to the audience the difference in character. Even so, your technique should still be good. You should still appear graceful and lithe like a swan, not coming down too hard on your feet.

"Fuck," you said, leaning down to massage your feet through your slippers. You tied them tighter and adjusted the fit. "Let's go again."

The music started and you ran towards each other again. The familiar feel of Jimin's hands on your waist and the gentle grip as he lifted you in the air. You landed softer this time, albeit it not with complete grace.

"Opening night is in two days, Y/N."

"You don't think I know that?" You sighed and unfurled your hair from its tight bun. "This is the most important dance of the entire ballet. I understand the stakes, Jimin."

Ballet was about pushing your body to its limits. Feeling like your entire body would snap back like a rubber band, your vision going fuzzy because you felt dizzy from turning so many times, your knees constantly bruised. You were going to get this right, get over whatever was causing you not to land a simple lift. You tied your hair back up, tighter this time and glanced over to Jimin.

"Let's practice the other lifts," you said. "We need to make sure we have them all." He nodded as the two of you took your places on opposite sides of the room. You still landed a little shaky on the first lift, but it was getting better. The two subsequent lifts were simpler and you and Jimin completed them without issue.

Yet, the rest of the lifts were more complicated. As you danced on your own while Jimin rounded the room, you dreaded the next one, the one where he lifts you high with his arms completely extended. You needed to have enough force on your jump or else Jimin's arms would wobble. While you required his arms to stabilize you, you were responsible for a majority of the lift.

You leaped into the air with Jimin's hands on your waist, feeling his grip tighten as you reached the peak of your jump and extended your leg outward. As the descent started, you began to shake and Jimin's fingers loosened, sending you tumbling down on top of him.

His chest rose against yours as he huffed and grabbed onto your shoulders and rolling you off of him. Jimin sat up and rested his weight against his palms. "You can't be serious," he said. "I don't think you're ready for this. We'll have to bring in the understudy."

You sat up and met his eyes. "No," you said. "I'll get it. Maybe I just need to eat something." Your limbs were still shaking and you had practiced all day, not remembering when you last ate.

"I do believe I can be of assistance then," a voice said. Your eyes lit up as you stood up and run over to your godfather who stood at the edge of the studio as if he had suddenly materialized in the space without knowing himself.

He carried a bag on his shoulder like he always did and he let it slip off his shoulder as you hugged him. Your godfather always felt a little magical, like touching him would transport you to another world.

"I thought you weren't coming until tomorrow," you said, thinking of the pre-debut/ birthday party you were holding for all the dancers.

"I felt the urge to come a bit early." Herr Drosselmeyer reached into his bag and pulled out a parfait topped with fruits you'd never seen before. "I know it's not my normal treats, but I know you need to eat well before the debut performance."

You nodded and took the lid off the parfait before you felt a gaze on your back. "Oh, Herr Drosselmeyer, this is my partner for the production, Park Jimin."

He approached and your godfather held out his hand. Jimin reached for it hesitantly and shook it. You could see the way Jimin raked his eyes over the other man, having only heard of his myths and never seen the man.

"You two look tired. I won't keep you too long as I'm sure you still have a lot of practicing to do."

"Yes," Jimin said. "We do."

You caught the glass shards in his voice and knew Herr Drosselmeyer did as well. His eyebrow arched in curiosity and his fingers twitched.

"I'll take my leave then. I will see you at your birthday party tomorrow and I look forward to the show." Your godfather left with the wind, you and Jimin blinked as he faded from your view.

You momentarily forgot about your dance partner as you once again grew used to the nearly empty dance studio. Drosselmeyer could make the dustiest rooms turn into fantastical wonderlands.

"Y/N? Are you ready to start again?"

You looked back and met Jimin's eyes which were surprisingly soft. He never normally looked at you like that and it made a spark run down your spine.

✦✧✦✧

"Your guests will be here soon. Are you sure you want to do this now?" your mother asked, pouring the salts and herbs into hot water.

"I have to," you said. "I don't think I'll walk otherwise." Slowly, you lowered your feet into the tub and relaxed as the water stung your red, raw toes.

"Will be okay for the performance tomorrow?"

"Of course," you said. "And, if I'm not, I'll figure it out. Maybe Herr Drosselmeyer can help."

Part of you didn't want to use Drosselmeyer's magic to ease your pain, only giving into the rumors that he was the only reason for your success.

Your mother nodded. "I'll come get you when everyone's here." She left the room with her frown lines becoming permanently etched in her forehead.

When the door shut, your shoulders relaxed and you allowed yourself to enjoy the pleasant hum of the salts and herbs on your muscles. Your eyes wandered to your vanity which held all of your jewels and trinkets for the performance. White feather hair clips for the white swan and a black diadem with a large diamond that dripped onto your forehead when you became the black swan. Eventually, on the opposite end of the vanity sat your wooden nutcracker.

He was turned slightly towards you. He still looked the same as when Herr Drosselmeyer had first given him to you. The green uniform still the color of evergreen trees in winter and his dark hair hadn't fallen out, even when you'd attempted to brush it when you were five.

"Nutcracker," you said. "Will you bring me good luck?"

As always, the nutcracker didn't respond, but something about the juxtaposition of his rigid stance and soft eyes always made you feel at ease. You failed to notice the small difference. The painted ring around the black pupil was no longer the vibrant blue, but the same shade of brown as the vanity itself.

"I don't know why I can't get the lifts," you said. "Maybe I really am a fraud. Maybe I'm only good at this because of Drosselmeyer's magic." Your head came to rest in your hands. "It's too late to give up the part, Nutcracker. What am I going to do?"

The nutcracker watched as you fell asleep with your feet submerged and your head having fallen to rest on your pillow. Inside the tub, your toes curled backward and your heel shifted positions before going back to normal. You seemed to feel no pain as your slumber continued. That, or you were simply used to it.

✦✧✦✧

"Y/N," your mother said. "Your guests have arrived."

You shot up, not realizing you had fallen asleep. Taking your feet out of the water you attempted to stand up, immediately falling onto the wood floor.

"Y/N!" Your mother's hands were on your shoulders and pulling you back up. "You know you can't stand right out of the tub." She helped you sit back on your bed as your feet throbbed back to life. Carefully, you slipped your feet into your clunky boots, which you wore when outside of your ballet slippers. They were heavy, but provided you the extra support to maintain your feet for the performance.

By the time you got down the stairs, you'd gained control and no one could tell you'd been so unsteady on your feet. Your friends, fellow dancers, and family each wished you a happy birthday and good luck on the performance. Hors d'oeuvres were passed around: chocolate-covered strawberries, peanut brittle, and frothy, fruit drinks. You couldn't stomach any of them.

"Have you see Jimin?" someone asked. You shook your head, realizing you hadn't seen your partner. While the two of you had practiced into the early hours of the morning and he'd seemed somewhat frustrated with you, you hadn't expected him to miss the party. Your brow furrowed in curiosity.

Before you could wonder further, all the room's eyes turned to the doorway as music played. You recognized the familiar sound of violins indicating Drosselmeyer's arrival. You smiled.

The crowd gasped as two life-size dolls walked through the door. They were dressed in the costumes you and Jimin would wear during the pas de deux. You watched as they performed the dance that you and Jimin could not, executing the lifts without issue.

Halfway through the doll that represented you, disappeared down the hall, just as you would dance backstage. When the doll re-emerged, the costume had shifted from Odile's black, to Odette's white. The partygoers oohed and ahhed, all taken with the two dolls. Your brow furrowed again.

✦✧✦✧

The festivities ended and the exhaustion settled into your limbs. Climbing the stairs to your room, a chill came over you. You sighed, opening the door to your room.

Inside, your things lay ransacked. Clothes strewn around the room, your bed covers lay on the floor, necklaces broken with their pearls spread out across the room. Everything on your vanity was missing, except for the nutcracker. The little soldier had fallen on his side and you grabbed his hat and gently stood him back up.

"Attack!" A shout rang out with the nutcracker still in your grasp. You fell backward, the nutcracker tumbling with you.

✦✧✦✧

When you opened your eyes, you were sprawled on the wood of your bedroom floor. But it was not your bedroom that surrounded you. Tall pine trees erupted from the ground beneath your back and snow seeped through the cloth of your dress. You shudder as the cold reached your skin, causing you to sit up.

"Stay down."

Your back hit the snow.

You turned to see Jimin standing above you, a sword at his hip and wearing a soldier's uniform. The uniform was a little big. The sleeves ended just below the wrist and the coat dwarfed his hips, even the hat lay lopsided.

It was then you saw the brightly colored gumdrop come towards you. It landed with a loud bang a few yards away, snow and pine needles flying into the area. The ground shook beneath you and you spotted all the soldiers in the distance. Gingerbread men?

"Y/N?" Jimin's voice was hushed as if the two of you were hidden. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," you said. "Where are we?"

"I don't know."

The gingerbread soldiers drew closer and you spotted another army in the distance. This one made of rats who stood on two legs. At the back of their convoy, the king sat on a palanquin, looking as if he were sailing on a sea of his soldiers.

Swords clashed. You stood up, ready to run. Only to tumble back down into the snow. You knew your feet were failing you and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

"Jimin, I can't run."

His dark eyes met yours and it was then you recognized them. They were the eyes of the nutcracker from the night before, looking at you and begging you to notice.

"It's okay," he said, drawing the sword from his belt. He held it awkwardly in his hand and his palm barely wrapped around the girth of the hilt. "It's just like dancing."

A rock sat in your stomach as you watched your dance partner stand in front of you with the tip of the sword pointed diagonally towards the snow.  

Before any words of protest could come out of your mouth, the fight began. Jimin's sword clashing with a gingerbread soldier's. Another soldier approached you and you kicked at him, knocking it to the ground. Using the strength you had, you brought your feet down on the cookie's chest, breaking it in half.

With your attacker no longer a threat, you turned to find Jimin still clashing swords with the gingerbread soldier. The cookie had taken a few hits, frosting leaking from his wounds. Jimin's sword swung and sliced off the soldier's right arm. The candy sword falling to into the snow, turning it a faint pink. With one final swipe, the soldier crumbled.

Hope swelled in your heart at his first success. You shuffled your legs, trying to stand up. You couldn't feel your feet, as if they were frozen.

Just past Jimin, the rat soldiers battled the gingerbread men. The rats devoured the soldiers until they were crumbs in the snow. At first, you believe the rats would provide a reprieve. They decimated the gingerbread soldiers with ease.

Your hopes were dashed as one of the rats swung at Jimin, cutting through the fabric of his shirt. His shoulder staining a deep red. You noticed the small golden crown sitting on the rat's head. The Rat King.  

"Jimin!" You tried your best to stand, making it to your feet for a few seconds before falling over again. This time you landed on your stomach and you crawled towards the battlefield. While your feet certainly hurt often and caused you to fall, you'd never experienced this.

What did the Rat King want with Jimin? The two of you suddenly thrust into the fight. Although, it was

At the call of his name, Jimin looked back at you, causing the rat to slice at him again. The slice hit his chest this time, more blood seeping through the deep green uniform. He fell to his knees and the rat raised his sword above his ears.

"No!" You twisted to sit straight in the snow and you unlaced your boot as quickly as you could. Your fingers were stiff and wet, but you managed to untie the lace of your right boot and fling it at the Rat King.

The heavy leather boot hit the King's head, knocking off his crown. It took a few moments, but the Rat King fell back in the snow. Red stained the snow around him, but his whiskers still twitched.

Jimin--despite his injured form--took the opportunity and picked up the sword and brought it down swiftly. The Rat King was dead.

✦✧✦✧

The rest of the rats retreated after their king was killed. While the feeling in your feet hadn't returned, you shuffled on your knees to Jimin. He'd collapsed on his back and his chest rose and fell quickly.

"Hey," you said. "Steady your breaths. Come on, like you do when you dance. Count." You started counting and following the beat as you examined the cuts. The one on his shoulder was mostly superficial and the bleeding already slowing. Blood still flowed from the one across his chest and you pulled up his shirt to see it was much deeper than it looked.

You bit your lip, not sure where to start. While you were in a pine forest covered with snow, your bedroom was still beneath you. If it was still in its ransacked state, you knew you could easily find something to stop the bleeding. Digging through the snow, your hand eventually landed on fabric and you pulled it up.

It was the white swan costume. While the outside was covered in beading and feathers, the inside was soft silk. You turned it inside out and held it firmly against your lap, ready to rip the fabric when Jimin's hand grabbed your wrist.

"No," he said, his voice labored and sweat sticking to the ends of his hair. "You need that for tomorrow."

"Jimin, I need you for tomorrow."

You winced as you heard a ripping sound. You'd managed to remove half the lining. Pressing it down on Jimin's wound, it immediately became soaked.

"Y/N," he said. "I'm sorry."

You paused, meeting his eyes.

"For what?"

"For not believing you."

You shook your head. "Forget it, Jimin," you said. "You're going to die if I don't stop the bleeding."

"I don't even think this is real. One minute I'm going to bed and the next I'm your nutcracker. And, then I'm battling gingerbread men and mice. Y/N, do you think it's him?"

He didn't need to clarify for you to know who he meant. Herr Drosselmeyer. While you hadn't had time to stop and think about how you ended up here, the only explanation was magic. And when there was magic in your life, it always traced back to your godfather.

"I don't know."

The fabric was saturated now and blood covered your hands. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, knowing there was nothing more you could do. Even if he didn't say anything, Jimin faded fast. His eyelids drooped and sweat mixed with blood.

"Jimin, you can't leave me like this," you said. "We're going to debut tomorrow. We're going to get all the lifts right. We'll get a standing ovation. They'll pick up our production for a world tour. You can't die. Jimin, please."

"Y/N, stop." He placed his hands over your own. "It's okay. Everything will be okay. You're going to do great tomorrow." His breaths slowed and your own picked up.

"No, no, Jimin. I can't let this happen."

"Shhh." His hand came to your cheek. "It's like the end of the show. Just don't jump in after me, okay?"

His eyes closed. His breathing stopped. And the feeling and your feet came back.

✦✧✦✧

"What is this, child?"

You lifted your head. You'd stayed on your knees by Jimin's side, your head resting on his chest. Tear tracks stained your face and your eyes red. A woman stood above you. Her bright red hair contrasted with the purple ball gown she wore.

"What happened, my sweet?"

"The gingerbread soldiers and the rat king and I couldn't run--"

The woman smiled. "You have no reason to cry. Valiant death is always rewarded." She crouched down beside you and Jimin.  She held out something and you soon noticed it was a small, round plum. "Split it between the two of you."

The woman disappeared when you blinked, much like how Drosselmeyer was prone to do. You looked down at the small fruit and bit into it. The purple juice ran down your chin and it tasted like sweeter than any other plum.

Swallowing, you place the other half in Jimin's mouth. You weren't sure how it was supposed to work, but after his mouth closed around the fruit. The world spun.

The snow swirled around you and you held onto Jimin's shoulders to keep from feeling dizzy. Somehow, you'd ended up on your feet, with the feeling of nothing solid between them. You closed your eyes and felt as Jimin's hands gripped your waist.

The world turned from pine trees and snow to the more familiar setting of a dance studio. It wasn't your usual studio though. The floors were perfectly waxed and there were no dents from when Jimin dropped you.

"Jimin?" you asked, feeling his grip tighten around you.

"I'm here."

Your feet touched down on the floor. It felt odd and you looked down to see black ballet slippers tied around your ankles. In fact, you were perfectly dressed as the black swan and you noticed that Jimin was in his matching outfit for the pas de deux.

"Dance for me," the woman's voice sounded. The music from the ballet played, no orchestra in sight.

You and Jimin exchanged a glance before taking your places and beginning the dance. Hesitance bubbled in your stomach as you ran for the lift, feeling Jimin's hands take hold of you immediately. This time he did not let you drop, nor did you lose your focus or form.

When he placed your feet back on the ground, you threw your arms around him. He reciprocated and the music without a source stopped. No more voices sounded, no more soldiers came out of the woodwork, Jimin no longer felt rigid.

Your feet lifted off the ground as the world shifted again. Jimin's lips connected with yours at the same moment. You weren't sure if the dizziness you felt was from the spinning or the kiss as he pulled away and your feet once again touched solid ground.

✦✧✦✧

You cradled a bouquet of roses in your arm as you came off stage. You couldn't stop smiling, even as the cold air rushed in from where families entered to greet the dancers.

Jimin wasn't far behind you and you soon felt his touch on your lower back. His touch had become so familiar now, nearly as much as your own.

"You did well out there," he said. "I don't think you missed a step."

"I think you made the audience cry at the end. Everyone believed you sacrificed yourself for a trick, for love."

Jimin's lips perked up at the ends. "It wouldn't be the first time."

"You'd jump into a lake for me? Even if it meant dying?"

"Absolutely."