Icypantherwrites Interview

icypantherwrites Interview

Before we start do you mind introducing yourself (you can use whatever name you are comfortable using/ your readers know you by) and telling us a little about yourself?

Hello ♥ My name is IcyPanther, Icy for short. Icy in a nutshell: short, blind without her glasses, clinging to my last couple months before I hit thirty, sings (belts) in the shower and while driving, cuddles and loves on her dog (a Rotti Bernie Spaniel mix named Inara ♥) far too much, hasn’t burned her house down cooking yet, can’t work on projects when things are messy, will beat you to death with kindness, very vulgar sailor mouth that has gotten worse working for the police, and dream job would be writing all day followed by napping. Ta da!

Onto the interview!

Q1: What kind of fan fiction do you write? And, what made you gravitate towards this/these particular fandom(s)?

A1: I tend to specialize in whump and hurt/comfort with plenty of angst to go alongside it ♥ My only current fandom right now is Voltron: Legendary Defender but I got into writing fanfiction with a number of animes and was pretty into the Harry Potter (Dramione ♥) sphere for a long while and prior to my revival in 2017 with VLD that was what I was best known for.

I write only in fandoms that I enjoy but am most motivated when I have a deep connection to a character(s).

Q2: Why did you begin writing fan fiction?

A2: Because the show I was watching at the time (Rurouni Kenshin) did not have enough whump and angst for my favorite character and that needed fixing ;p I’m a pretty cheerful personality but I love darker things and a lot of shows won’t go that far or if they do it tends to toe the line most of the time (not all, and God, Rurouni Kenshin has plenty of delicious dark moments and backstories, don’t get me wrong) but it needed more. And thus enter my first super shitty, super awful piece that I keep alive online to remind myself of where I’ve come from.

Q3: Were you scared to begin posting it online?

A3: Nope! Now, being found out in high school to be writing it? Heck yeah xD Like I said, I have a very cheerful, innocent personality on the outside and I’d have been mortified for anyone (outside of my sister who was all for this xD) to find out what kind of dark shit I was writing but posting online under a penname? No big deal.

Q4: Do you ever want to published in a professional capacity one day?

A4: I technically am published with a crazy ton of news and feature stories from my days as a journalist and editor. Some of those pieces I’m very proud of and one in particular cast a spotlight on an amazing man who performed tattoo coverups for sex trafficking victims and old gang members and my story got picked up by some of the big news stations and he got so much good attention and press and, most importantly, donations and funding ♥ I loved being able to make a difference like that.

But I’m thinking this is leaning more towards fiction and the answer to that is yes, most definitely. I have dreams (as all authors do) of writing a bestseller and have finally found the courage and drive to start pursuing my own novel ♥

Q5: Has writing fan fiction taught you anything? About writing? Reading? Yourself?

A5: Most definitely. One thing I’m going to highlight here is I’m old by fanfiction standards. I’m not a high school kid anymore or even a college student. I’m a full grown adult and I’ve seen and been through a lot and seen my writing change and grow over the about fifteen years I’ve actively been writing. So its hard to say “yes, fanfiction has taught me ____” because there’s so much more to it then that.

I will say though that fanfiction is what gave me the drive to write more and more as posting for an engaged audience and hearing positive feedback told me that hey, I can write and people want to read it. It definitely solidified my career path in college although, cough, I am wishing a bit I’d gone the more marketing/communications route. She says as she works an overnight desk job xD

Q6: Do you write anything outside of the realm of fan fiction?

A6: See above for old jouranlism job and currently working on my novel, a young adult fantasy ♥

Q7: Do you notice any stigma surrounding fan fiction or fan fiction writers?

A7: When I first started doing this fifteen years ago? Yes. Most definitely. It was considered a lower art form (which makes me laugh as fanart was never put into the same category) and “weak” writing and to this day I remember when I was talking to my creative writing teacher in high school about it and she laughed and said that fanfiction is not original and is just plagiarizing another work. I never forgot that but I also never believed it. Fanfiction, I feel, is honestly one of the most difficult mediums to write. You have to work within a set world, using established characters, plots and backstory and then make it your own all while adhering to those parameters. It’s hard. It’s very hard.

Today though I think a lot of people respect that and I no longer see the discourse I used to on the subject (I still won’t tell anyone outside of my anime con friends though that I write it ;p). And I’m glad. It’s a much safer, inclusive environment for young writers venturing out to get into. I will also preface though that I don’t engage much with the drama (and God does my fandom right now have a lot of it) and just post and go about my day and I credit a lot of that to my age. But from someone who started back in 2003… it’s changed, most definitely.

Q8: If so, how do you feel about this stigma?

A8: See above ;)

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

A9: Um… Nothing is coming to mind in any category of this nature. Sorry.

Q10: Is Tumblr the site you prefer to post fan fic on? If so, why?

A10: Oh heck no. No no no no no. Tumblr is… is awful for posting text on. AWFUL. I use it as an engagement tool to interact with readers and to promote my works. I started off on fanfiction.net and when I rebooted in 2017 I crossposted between it and Archive of Our Own. Just about a month ago I made the decision to post solely on AO3 as the editing features are very, very nice and the traffic there is better ♥

Q11: What’s your favorite piece of fan fiction you’ve ever written? Why?

A11: So many fics to choose from, you want me to pick one? ;p I love all of my pieces, from the horrid ones in 2003 to 2010 years to my more recent VLD ones starting in 2017. All hold a special place in my heart.

But the fic I am most proud of would be my long boi As Color Fades Away, or Color for short. It’s a 430k+ fic that was my first foray into the VLD fandom and my first real fic after nearly seven years of not writing anything. I saw myself grow so much as a writer in that fic (although that history is erased now as given its popularity and my love of it I have recently re-written the first 35 chapters completely with edits in others as well) and it has everything I crave in a story: whump and angst and hurt/comfort and family and friendship and so much heart and love. It was a fic that touched a lot of people (myself included) and it’s my magnum opus now and forever of fanfiction.

Find icy’s fics here and her Tumblr page here.

glitteringconstellations interview

Before we get started with the interview, do you mind introducing yourself (whatever name you are comfortable with) and telling us a little about yourself?

Hi everyone! I’m glitteringconstellations, Glitter or GC for short. I’ve been writing fanfiction for well over 15 years now, though I only started sharing it around 2005. I minored in Creative Writing in college and I love writing in pretty much any capacity! When I’m not headcanoning one new story or another, though, I’m either adulting (ugh, adulting) or playing video games. These days it’s mostly Skyrim. I’m fluent in Korean and passable in Japanese and Spanish. I drink way too much pop to be healthy and I hate most fruit (though, give me any kind of melon and I’ll be a happy girl). Oh, and I’m a fledgling figure skater! I’m just a hodgepodge of random hobbies haha!

Q1: What kind of fan fiction do you normally write? Have you ever written fan fiction for other fandoms other than your current one?

A1: I tend to gravitate toward angsty fics. It’s long been my outlet of frustration, to put the character I love in harm’s way. The more pain, the better, haha! Though I do love the hurt/comfort aspect of it. Recently (as in, the last year lmao) I’ve been writing for the Voltron fandom almost exclusively (and sometimes YURI!!! On Ice), but before that I was in the k-pop ficdom (Super Junior, for the most part) for a looooong time, nearly 10 years. I won’t be opening that particular can of worms, though--I have Feelings and Opinions lmao. Before that I jumped around from anime to anime.

Q2: I see in addition to fan fiction that you do commissioned fan art! I’m not an artist myself, so I find it really interesting and cool. Do you want to talk a bit about that? And, feel free to plug yourself!

A2: This is actually a common misconception--I can’t draw to save my life!! I took commissions for fan fiction back in late June as a last resort to pay my rent. Typically though I’m horrible on a deadline so I don’t like to do it too often because I feel terrible making my commissioners wait. The art you’re referring to is the comic spread for The Parting Glass, if I’m not mistaken? I actually commissioned another artist by the name of Cota (@ccooooostuff on tumblr, go check her out she’s amazing at what she does and super sweet!) for that comic with the money I got for my birthday this year.

Q3: Do you write anything outside of fan fiction?

A3: I do! I journal a lot, or I try to anyway. This year I’m hoping to tackle an original novel for Nanowrimo, but more than likely, that particular project will start as fanfiction and we’ll see if I turn it into original fiction or not. I spend more time thinking about the things I want to write than… actually… writing them lolsob. My notes will be this gigantic document but when it comes to putting things together in a cohesive manner? Haaaaaa….haha…. The blinking cursor mocks me, I swear.

Q4: I see on your profile that you are 26. I think when most people think of fan fiction writers they think of someone younger, usually a teenager. Do you encounter younger writers a lot? What do you think of this assumption?

A4: I do encounter younger writers a lot! Surprisingly, though, most writers I know are either in their late 20s or late late teens (say, 15~19). Most people tend to think I’m young anyway just because I look a lot younger than 26, but as far as fandom goes, it doesn’t really bother me if people think I’m younger than I am. Usually I’m pretty forward with how old I am on my profile anyway! But yeah, I’ve been around the fanfiction scene a while. The k-pop fandom in particular had a way of reminding me just how long on a pretty frequent basis lol.

Q5: 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?

A5: I used to tell myself stories to get to sleep or on long car trips as far back as I can remember, and most of the time they involved characters from my favorite shows of the day. Pokemon and Digimon were two big ones for me before I hit those fun preteen years. As far as what got me started actually putting those stories to paper, it was born of frustration with shows not going the way I wanted them to, so I’d write the ending I wanted to see. For Voltron in particular, it’s just SUCH a fun sandbox to play in, be it by utilizing the incredible world-building or the plethora of interesting characters to play around with. So many possibilities! *3*

Q6: Do you ever want to be published in a professional capacity one day?

A6: Yes and no. I flip flop on this ALL the time. I’d LOVE to see my stories on shelves, but I’m actually very insecure and sometimes the thought of people reading my stories makes me want to die of embarrassment and sink to the center of the earth. That said, if I win Nano this year, I may run it by some publishers, even if only to get feedback. (Although if you want to get TECHNICAL I am officially a published journalist; I was an assistant editor for one of The Big 3 kpop news sites for a while. The one that starts with S. Also another can of worms.)

Q7: Has writing fan fiction taught you anything? About writing? Reading? The fandom? Etc.

A7: Oh absolutely. I definitely would not be the writer I am today without fan fiction. I wouldn’t say I’m super skilled, but the critique I’ve received over the years has helped me more than I have words for, honestly. Not even just in the capacity of writing fiction; my academic and professional writing has improved too. Also, just like reading anything in high volume, reading fanfic has helped me learn to read like a writer, how to pick out things that authors do that I admire and try to emulate that, and conversely what doesn’t work for me so I can avoid those things.

As far as fandom goes, fanfiction can be quite polarizing, as I’m sure you’re well aware. Just in my experience by and large it can be kind of toxic, to be quite honest. The particular issue Voltron faces that I experienced to some extent in other fandoms but not quite to this degree, is fandom policing. I find that certain members of the fandom (which, in my experience, tends to actually be mostly among those younger demographics, though not exclusively so) see certain topics as morally wrong and therefore anyone who writes those topics are 1) romanticizing said topic and 2) automatically a disgusting, horrible person and they have no problems telling you about all about it. The number one thing I try to put out there in my interactions is live and let live, ship and let ship. If it makes you uncomfortable, that’s okay! But that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s wrong, and it’s definitely not okay to go around purporting hate in the name of “morality.” Sorry, didn’t mean to go off on a tangent there haha...

Q8: What is a piece you’ve written that you’re most proud of?

A8: Just in the Voltron fandom, I’d say the fic I’m most proud of is The Parting Glass, by far. Funny story about that one; I’d never heard the titular song before I came across a cover of it on Facebook one day around St. Patrick’s Day, and let me tell you something. The reaction I had was almost a spiritual experience, it was so visceral. I was in tears when I heard it, and the story came so hard and so fast that I wrote it in 2 days. It stayed with me until I got it down in writing. It was an interesting challenge for me, exploring the grief part of a character death fic while almost entirely omitting the actual dying part. It’s been a very long time since I’ve had such a vivid vision of exactly how a fic is going to go from start to finish and I’m quite happy with the way it turned out. Which is why, when I had the money to do so, I commissioned Cota to illustrate what had to be the hardest and yet my favorite part to write. She brought the scene to life so beautifully too, I’m really happy with how it turned out. Months later I still go back and stare at it!

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

A9: Without a doubt. People hear “fanfiction” and they think one of two things: the pudgy neckbeard who lives in his parents’ basement, or the rabid tween/teenage fangirl. It’s a rather unfortunate stereotype, because some works of fanfiction are truly works of art, more masterfully crafted than some novels I’ve seen published. Yet they get dismissed simply on the basis of being fanworks and not “original” (which, let’s be real, nothing is truly original anymore). One such example that comes to mind of a beautiful fic is those glittering instruments in the EXO fandom, which was based on the real-life destruction of the Library of Alexandria. If you can find a copy of it floating around the interwebs I HIGHLY recommend giving it a chance no matter what fandom you’re in!

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

A10: Like I said, it’s really a shame. The thing, too, is that as young girls we’re often shamed for the things we’re passionate about, like boy bands and, well, fan fiction, while boys don’t get that kind of shame to such an intense degree (at least, not about the usual suspects, like sports and girls and such). Not to say that it doesn’t happen, but there’s something terribly sad about seeing more young people afraid to talk about a hobby that makes them happy because they’re afraid of being perceived as weird or gross or something like that. Hell, even to this day I have very few friends from outside the fandom sphere that know I write fanfiction, because they still talk bad and make mean jokes about fic writers. It’s such a silly thing, because a lot of famous works are derivative fiction and people don’t even realize it! So I hope the day comes soon that we can get over this silly stigma and just enjoy what people share (for free!! Seriously!! FULL NOVEL LENGTH WORKS. For FREE.)

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? (And if so, feel free to answer/talk about it).

A11: I really had to think about this one! I couldn’t really pick one topic that I’ve really wanted to talk about that I haven’t already discussed, but no one has ever asked me if I was okay with having fanart of my work. Which I would answer with a resounding YES. I am more than okay with it QuQ

Oh, I guess I do have something!! It’s unrelated to writing (well, I guess it could be related, depending on how you look at it) but since I have your attention, if you’re an American citizen GO OUT AND VOTE. The midterm elections are one week from today in the USA and it’s important you go vote!! I won’t tell you who to vote for (a third can of worms I’m not opening up. WHY DO I HAVE SO MANY WORMS) but I assure you, your vote matters, now more than ever. I believe in you!! Go vote!!!

Q12: What is your prefered site for writing/posting fan fiction?

A12: These days I prefer to use AO3. It’s a work in progress, but it’s far and away the superior fic platform of the time. Back in ye olden days (circa 2010~2012) Livejournal was my platform of choice, and FF.net before that. A surprising number of people prefer to post their fic on tumblr, to which I say, are you out of your flipping MIND?!?! Tumblr is soooo temperamental, I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve had to restart a post or go into the HTML editor because the rich text editor decided to be stupid. Noooooo thank you. I’ll stick to AO3 thanks ahaha!

Check out Glitter’s Tumblr and AO3.

Interviewer Note: Glitter used her free question to encourage everyone to vote and I would just like to stress the importance of this, especially if live in the US. Young people are the demographic that votes the least, despite being the demographic that will have to live the longest with the outcome of the vote. If you are currently not registered, please register as it is important for all of our futures. And, remember the deadline for the upcoming US election is Nov. 6th, so make sure to get to those polls and/or turn/send in your ballot. If you need information on how to do any of these things, do not hesitate to reach out to my page and I will point you to trustworthy resources. 

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.

Not So Silent Night

Genre: Quarantine Romance, slight Enemies To Lovers, Neighbors AU, Fluff, slight Angst

Pairing: Namjoon/ Reader

Warnings: none

Synopsis: Namjoon hadn’t intended to spend much time in his tiny apartment. And then a pandemic broke out. Now he’s stuck dealing with his noisy neighbor, you.

✦✧✦✧

Namjoon thought he was in the clear that Wednesday night. He'd heard the opening and closing of your front door, the clink of your keys in the lock, and the rustle of the groceries in your arms. He knew it was your Friday, which meant you'd usually turn on music while you cleaned your tiny apartment, or a play a movie on full blast while you devoured an entire pizza yourself.

It was nearly 9 pm and he hadn't heard a peep from you, not even the true crime podcast you sometimes put on. Namjoon, unlike you, had worked from home for months now. Even though most of his time at work was spent in his private studio, he had nearly an identical set up in his apartment.

He was still working, albeit, not on the songs he produced for other artists, but on his own. He'd just started editing the melody when heard the familiar bass chords of "What Makes You Beautiful". It was your favorite song to torture him with. Namjoon had nothing against the British boyband you seemed to love so much, that was until you started them playing them loudly at odd hours.

Namjoon sighed, pausing his work and rubbing his temples. He really needed to save up for a good pair of noise canceling headphones, although he wouldn't find it surprising if you somehow managed to invade his eardrums right away.

He tried to continue working, turning his headphones all the way up. Yet, all he could focus on was the way he heard the familiar bass line restart when the song ended.

Namjoon groaned and threw his headphones onto his desk. He'd only moved into this tiny apartment because the rent was cheap and he hadn't intended to spend much time in it. Then, a pandemic hit and suddenly, Namjoon was confined to four menacing white walls with the only company being his noisy neighbor, you.

He waited a half hour before he walked down the stairs to your apartment. Even though the city was under quarantine, the apartment building was snug and it was nearly impossible not to come into contact with each other. Securing his mask over his ear, he knocked on your door.

"Yes?" you asked, answering the door as if you'd been expecting him. You, too, had just finished looping the mask around your ear. It was a bright polka dot pattern that distracted Namjoon long enough that he managed to speak before noticing that your oversized T-shirt made it look like you weren't wearing shorts.

"Can you please keep it down, Y/N? It's the middle of the week for me and I have a Zoom call at 8 am tomorrow."

"That sounds like your problem," you said, leaving your door open as you tied the top of the trash bag you'd been getting ready to take out when Namjoon knocked.

A glint of annoyance passed over Namjoon's eyes and even from under your mask he could make out your familiar smirk from the way your eyebrows rose.

"Do you even own headphones?" he asked, crossing his arms. He didn't notice the way your eyes swept over his biceps and chest with his movement.

"They hurt my ears," you said, shrugging. Grabbing the trash bag by the tied top and heading back for your front door. "Now, be a doll and take this out for me? My legs hurt from work."

Namjoon looked at you with his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. He didn't say anything as you shoved the bag into his hands.

"What? Why are looking at me like that?" you paused, dialing down your attitude for a moment. "Listen, if you do this, I'll turn it off so you can get your beauty sleep."

He watched as you reached up and pat his shoulder. Your nail polish was chipping and the gleam from your gold promise ring dulled. His eyes traced as your hand left the fabric of his T-shirt and came to the doorknob of your front door.

"Goodnight Namjoon," you said, shutting the door.

Namjoon stood in the hallway, his lips parted and a small breath. He scoffed as the familiar bassline blasted from your apartment.

✦✧✦✧

You'd had a long day. Work was keeping you at least an hour over every day and you felt your feet ache as slipped off your shoes. Even though you just wanted to fall into bed, you changed and washed your hands first, doing your best to feel clean before your skin hit the sheets. As a Pharmacy Technician, you were essential, and even if most of your job was counting pills and performing customer service, right now it was harder than ever.

With only ten hours until you had to be at work, you ordered food and eyed the laundry that was beginning to spill over the edge of the hamper like waves over a jetty. You sighed, taking out your phone and putting on music. You gathered up your clothes and laundry soap. Pocketing your keys and a handful of quarters dug out of the bottom of your purse, you made your way to the basement laundry room.

You let the music play. While you weren't particularly trying to get your tall neighbor's attention, or get on his nerves, like you usually were, you secretly hoped you'd get to catch a glimpse of his signature white T-shirt against his bronzed skin.

Loading your clothes into the shared washer, your phone began to ring and your boyfriend's face flashed across the screen. He was smiling widely in the picture, his hair swept back by the coastal breeze. At one point, it had been your favorite photo of him. Now, it just felt like a sweet apple that turned out to be poison.

You ignored the call and poured the detergent into the machine. Inserting the quarters, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. You'd heard his feet on the stairs enough, that you recognized the soft one, two pattern as he made his way downstairs.

"I think the whole complex knows you're a fan of One Direction now," Namjoon said, coming into view. His hands were empty, having obviously come down purely because of your disruption.

"So be it," you said, starting the machine and glancing down as the music stopped and your phone rang again. You frowned as you rejected the call.

Namjoon noticed, his brow furrowing as his eyes glanced down at the phone in your hand. "You should've answered. At least you'd be less of a bother."

The two calls and the exhaustion weighed you down and felt yourself drifting below the surface. "I'm really not in the mood right now, Namjoon. Maybe tomorrow."

His sarcastic smile faltered. "If you don't want me to bother you, then don't play your music so loud." He crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles becoming more prominent as the fabric of his T-shirt stretched to accommodate the new position. You had no idea how he stayed so toned with the apartment gym shut down and such a small apartment.

"Maybe you should invest in earplugs."

"Maybe you should invest in headphones."

You scoffed and headed back upstairs, not feeling the banter. Your neck and shoulders were tense and you just wanted to finish your laundry and pass out for the night.

✦✧✦✧

Namjoon didn't think much of your sour mood. It was obvious that it extended beyond him since you rejected the phone call. He stood in the laundry room for a few moments and watched your laundry spin around in the washer.

He remembered back to the week before when you forced him to take out your garbage. A thought crossed his mind and he wondered if a good prank would lift your spirits.

With most coin operated washers, the doors locked right after the money is inserted and the washer starts. The ones at your apartment complex, however, had a loophole. Hitting the coin return button a few times, the quarters you'd entered fell into the coin return and the machine slowed to a stop.

Waiting a few moments to make sure you weren't coming back, he opened the door and took your wet clothes out of the dryer. He pocketed the coins, reminding himself to use them for your clothes later. Setting them on top of the washer, he rushed up to his apartment and grabbed his own laundry, starting it.

✦✧✦✧

The timer went off a half hour later. You were halfway through eating dinner but paused to go switch loads. You knew between your boyfriend' incessant calls and the hour long drying cycle, you were not going to get to sleep any time soon.

Shuffling down to the laundry room, you didn't even bother to throw on music this time. The heaviness in your eyes wouldn't be cured with Harry's sweet voice as usual.

Opening the door to the washer, your clothes were not there. A stroke of panic ran down your spine as your eyes darted across the row of washers, wondering if you had gone to the wrong one. All the other doors were open. You felt a stirring in your stomach as your mind raced with what to do.

"Lose something?"

You turned to see Namjoon coming down the stairs, carrying a laundry basket full of your wet clothes. Your heart beat out of your chest, your vision went black as your mind processed the sight.

"What the fuck, Namjoon?" you asked, yanking the basket from him. Tears came to your eyes as you looked down at the sopping wet clothes.

Namjoon's eyes widened at his words, having expected a snarky quip from you, he released his grip on the basket easily. Fishing for the quarters in his pocket, he held them out to you.

"God, I'm gonna get absolutely no sleep tonight," you said, shoving your half washed clothes back into the washer.

"Y/N?" he asked, his voice soft. "What's wrong?"

Once you'd restarted the washer, placing your body physically in front of it to block Namjoon from tampering with it once again, you eyed him.

"I'm only gonna get a few hours of sleep," you said, your voice surprisingly level. "My work clothes are in there." You leaned back against the washer, sighing as you looked down at the time on your phone.

"I-I'm--"

"Save it, Namjoon," you said. "Listen, I know we have this sort of relationship where we mess with each other. But, I'm really not in the mood for it tonight."

Namjoon tried to move towards you, but stopped himself, unsure of exactly what he was going to do or how he could help. He'd never seen you like this before. Dark circles around your eyes, your hair stringy and tousled from running your hands through it, and your posture so tense. Even though the lower half of your face was covered with a bright green mask, he could still make out your frown behind the fabric.

"Just le--" You were cut off by your phone's vibration.

Despite Namjoon having caused your distress, whoever kept calling you made your brow furrow and eyes water in a way that left Namjoon wanting to answer the phone and find out what they had done to you.

"Is everything okay?" he asked. "Who keeps calling you?"

Glancing down at the washer it had now moved onto the second cycle, you ignored. Meeting Namjoon's eyes, it hurt your chest to see the concern in them. After seeing you like this, after getting annoyed with him, he still worried about you.

"Just leave me alone, Namjoon."

✦✧✦✧

It was midnight on Wednesday night when the sound of yelling overtook the melody in his headphones. At first, he didn't think much of it. Many couples lived in the complex, and an occasional fight wasn't uncommon. Then, he heard your voice.

✦✧✦✧

"Jae-ho, what are you doing here? I told you you couldn't come."

"I just want to see you, baby." There was a softness in his voice, but it didn't reach his eyes. You'd been dodging his calls and texts for the past few days, hoping he would get the hint.

"Not until your test comes back negative," you said. "Plus, we really shouldn't be seeing each other that much. Especially since I'm still working."

Your boyfriend let out a long sigh and moved to walk inside. You blocked him, shutting the door slightly and wedging yourself in the gap. This only made him more frustrated, his hands reaching out to touch you.

You let him, allowing his hand to brush your own. You knew it was unlikely your boyfriend would get a positive result, his exposure limited and brief. But you couldn't risk it.

"Are you not scared of spreading it to me? To anyone?"

"I don't have it, babe. I've told you."

"You were still required to get tested. And since I see so many vulnerable people at work, I can't risk it." This wasn't the first time this was an issue. You'd been tested twice already. You job required you to come into contact with people all day, and more than a few confirmed cases had come through your pharmacy.

Jae-ho had had an issue those times too. Coming over when you'd told him not to, calling you until he got sick of dialing your number. You weren't sure how much longer you could take this.

"Are you cheating on me?"

The question lingered in the air as your mouth fell open in shock. Did he think that was the only reason you could not want to see him?

"No, of course not! I'm trying to protect you, Jae-ho!"

"I know you like that neighbor of yours. You still see him, don't you? Why do you see him and not me?"

"We're neighbors! This complex is so tiny, we can't help it!"

Your voice and his gradually rose with your emotions. You barely remember what either of you said after that, you only remembering sliding the promise ring off your finger and flinging it down the stairs.

✦✧✦✧

Namjoon walked down the stairs when he heard your door slam. He came upon your boyfriend, scoffing at your door. When he met the other man's eyes, Namjoon's immediately narrowed.

"Of course," Jae-ho said. He shook his head and walked down the stairs, pausing at the next landing. He bent down to retrieve something and Namjoon stopped focusing on the other man, reaching up to knock on your door.

Namjoon's knuckles didn't even make contact with your door before he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Jae-ho stood a few steps down and held out the gold promise ring you always wore.

"Give this back to Y/N," he said. "I don't want it either."

He handed Namjoon the ring before turning around and leaving for good.

✦✧✦✧

"Y/N?" Namjoon's voice cut through the dark silence of your apartment. You'd everything outside, but not realized that it was Namjoon Jae-ho was talking to. "Are you okay?

You opened the door. You tried to wipe your tears before Namjoon could take in your figure, but it was fruitless. When your eyes met his, you saw his heartbreaking at the sight of you.

"I'm okay."

"No, you're not," Namjoon said, waiting for you to give the okay for him to enter your apartment. You knew that there was no hiding from Namjoon. The two of you literally lived on top of one another and saw each other almost daily when you did the laundry or took the trash out. There was nearly no way to avoid Kim Namjoon for long.

You moved aside and closed the door behind him. Flopping down on your bed, you looked up at him. "Sorry if we woke you up."

Namjoon shook his head. "You didn't."

"Sorry to interrupt your work then," you said, feeling like you owed the man an apology for more than just this one night. "I didn't mean for it to escalate like that."

Namjoon didn't say anything. He glanced around your apartment, sensing the way that his eyes on you made you uncomfortable.

"You don't need to apologize," he said. "For anything."

You stayed silent, hugging a pillow to your chest.

The silence wasn't tense, but it wasn't calm either. There was something lingering between you. Something keeping Namjoon in your apartment after making sure you were okay. And something that allowed you to let him in at all.

"You know, whenever I was upset or I had trouble sleeping. My mom would always make me milk and cookies. It seems counterintuitive that something sugary helped me sleep. But it never failed."

Namjoon left for his apartment for a moment, coming back with a package of chocolate chip cookies and two glasses of milk. He handed you one of the glasses and sat the package of cookies down beside you.

"Is it okay if I stick around? Just in case your boyfriend tries to come back," Namjoon said. He knew his explanation was flimsy. It was obvious when the man left that he did not intend on coming back.

"Yes," you said, reaching to pull out a cookie and dip it in the milk. "I'd like that."

The two of you ate in silence. Silence rarely occurred when you saw Namjoon, no matter how much he may want it to, but now, you could tell by the tension in his shoulders that it worried him.

"You know, I kinda look forward to hearing you every night," he said. "Lets me take a break from my work. Means I get to come see you."

You chuckled, smiling for the first time that night. "Why do you think I was always loud?" The crunch of a cookie filled your pause. "I knew you would always come complain."

✦✧✦✧

"I have a present for you, Y/N," Namjoon said.

It was the holidays now. Your family was far away and none of you wanted to get on a plane. It saddened you that you wouldn't be able to see your family, but Namjoon had become your solace. He'd usually hear when you got home and about ten minutes later, he'd appear at your door, asking what you were having for dinner that night. Most of the time, you ate together.

It was just like all those other nights, except you didn't have to work the next morning. Namjoon had met you by your door, takeout in hand, and a backpack slung over his shoulder.

Namjoon reached into his backpack and pulled out a wrapped package. The paper was a bit wrinkled, indicating he'd wrapped it himself. It made you smile.

"Oh, wait," you said, getting up and walking to the closet where you pulled out a similarly wrapped package. You handed it to him and looked down at his gift for you.

Tearing off the paper, you laughed when you noticed it was headphones. They were expensive too, which made your stomach turn thinking that he spent so much money on you.

"Open the box," he said, a smug smile on his face.

You ripped open the box, finding crumpled up paper. You felt around until you felt a thin object. Pulling it out. you found a CD.

"It's a mixtape. For you." Namjoon's eyes wandered around the room. "I--uh--hope you'll play it like you do One Direction."

You flung your arms around him, but he stopped you. "There's something else."

You looked down at the box quizzically before you began pulling out the paper. Reaching inside, you felt what you immediately recognized as a ring. Thoughts ran through your mind as you pulled it out.

It was your promise ring from Jae-ho, shinier than when you had last seen it. "He wanted me to give it back to you. But, I knew it might be painful. I had it cleaned and engraved for you."

You turned the ring to see the engraving on the inside: Be Loud - KNJ

Hello All!

So, I realized that while I’ve interviewed three different author’s y’all don’t know the person asking the questions! Allow me to introduce myself.

Hello! I’m Alyce! I’m a 21 year old university student and I’ve written fan fictions for many different fandoms over the years. It started with obscure TV shows from the ‘90s and then went to One Direction, Doctor Who, Harry Potter, and 5 Seconds of Summer. I currently write BTS fan fiction on Wattpad. My account is FarFromSuga. (I also created a Tumblr account connected to my Wattpad account, so follow me there! FarFromSugaFanFic).

However, I want to keep the focus on the wonderful authors I interview. As someone who has been part of many fandoms and written fan fiction for various fandoms and in many genres, I noticed that people who write fan fiction often write just as well as published authors, or rather, those who simply aren’t writing fan fiction. 

Yet, fan fiction is still not well respected (despite it being widely read by many different demographics including those of varying age, race, national origin, gender identity, sexuality, etc.). I started this project for one of my classes at university, but I also started it to interview people who write fan fiction with the hopes of appealing to those who don’t read and/or respect fan fiction, but also, provide a service for the fan fiction community that hasn’t otherwise been fulfilled. 

I’ve seen projects like this take off in smaller forms within fan fiction communities or friend groups, but I want to give fan fiction readers a chance to get to know fan fiction authors. 

I will probably continue this project even after my class ends. I’ve been enjoying it and the reception has been overwhelming positive. I’m so touched by the amount of love and kind people within the fan fiction community. 

Feel free to message me if you’re interested in being interviewed, if you want to suggest someone for interview (please know that I will ask them, if they are uninterested I won’t push it further), and/or if you have any interesting questions for future interviews!

Also, feel free to ask me questions! I do want y’all to know me as well. You can do so through reblogging or messaging or however else (I’m new to Tumblr so I’m still figuring stuff out lol). If y’all really want maybe I’ll do a community interview of myself? However, like I said, I want to focus mainly on other authors!

Thank you!  

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."