#I rejected it a lot not realizing I could be a woman w/o like. Having to preform conventional femininity to be valid in that.

[imaginarymen]

Woman thoughts too bc I am feeling gender things /pos

[imasimpforshanks]

hiii, how are you? may i ask angst alphabet for Ace? thank you ❤️

Angst Alphabet - Portgas D. Ace

a/n: hi hi!! here you go! OMG angst is still really hard LOL I don’t want to think about their rough life 😔😔😔😔😔 ANYWHOOOOO thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy<3

warnings: on the letter S there is mention of self harm

A-Accident (would they blame themselves if you died in an accident?)

Ace would definitely blame himself. He’s always thought he was a no-good demon child, son of a criminal that didn’t deserve to be alive (despite finding people that truly cared and loved him). You dying in an accident and him not being able to do anything about it would just reinforce what he already thinks of himself.

Regardless of your cause of death he is likely to attribute it to your association with himself, and because of that he will think it is entirely his fault, even if he wasn’t present at the time of your death.

B-Break up (How would they break up with you?)

His lessons with Makino really helped him develop manners and just a general sense of acceptable behaviour. So, Ace would just be clear and up front, no mixed messages, no miscommunication. He would take you some place quiet and away from others, and then he would be as honest and vulnerable as possible – it’s the least you deserve. The break-up would be very civil, you would definitely end on good terms (doesn’t make it any less sad though).

C-Crying (how would they make you cry?)

Sometimes Ace can take his teasing a little too far. Usually you can handle it, but there are just some days where his words cut deeper than ever intended (even if they have no malice behind them). It’s not his fault you’re having a bad day, or not realizing you are having a bad day. It’s just one of those things that happens sometimes. As soon as you start to cry though, he apologizes and reassures you so much, to make sure you known he doesn’t mean it and he’s only playing around.

D-Death (how would they react to your death?)

It would start out with a lot of confusion, like “what t-that must be some kind of a sick joke. H-how… w-what… they wouldn’t just die like that.” After it really sinks in that you have in fact died, Ace will just get angry. I don’t see him as much of a crier (spoiler alert – we only see him truly allow himself to cry on two occasions 1) when luffy got crazy hurt as a child and 2) when ace was on deaths door), so I believe he would react with anger.

Regardless of your cause of death (natural causes, accident, died in battle etc.) Ace would be unbelievably angry with himself, the world and you. He would be angry at himself for being unable to save you, someone he cares about and loves deeply. He would be angry at the world and whatever higher being there may be for choosing now to be your time. There are so many horrible, horrible people in the world, yet you had to die? It makes no sense. Lastly, he would be angry at you. Not a genuine anger but more so a “how could you just leave me like this? We were meant to be together forever.”

E-Emotion (what is one emotion they would try to hide the most and how would they do it?)

I think Ace tends to try his sadness. He tries to put on a brave face, not wanting anyone to see him cry as he doesn’t want to be viewed as weak or be even more of a burden on others.

F-Fight (how often do you fight? What do you fight about? Do you fight often? Etc.)

Fights with Ace, although they don’t happen often, can quickly get out of hand. He’s stubborn and his inability to accept that he’s not always right can cause a minor disagreement to escalate into an all-out fight. On a few occasions you have argued about him never turning his back on an opponent.

Your fights tend to be followed by cooldown time. Things can get quite heated (no pun intended) so you need some alone time and space to breathe. After that though, you comeback together and apologize.

G-Guilt (what is the biggest thing they feel guilty about?)

For his entire life, Ace has lived with the guilt of simply existing. He doesn’t think himself worthy of being alive. Can you blame him? It’s all anyone ever told him growing up. Despite eventually finding people who loved him for him, those feelings of inadequacy and worthlessness still remain and continue to plague his mind.

H-Heartbreak (what would cause them pain in the relationship? How would they deal during a break-up?)

During a break-up Ace is quiet. He doesn’t want to be around anyone or anything. He wants to be left completely alone so he can sort out his thoughts and feelings. He’d be quite devasted because he’s had so few people in his life love him on as deep a level as you did.

I-Injured (how would they react if you are badly injured?)

Ace would absolutely lose it if you were injured. He’d be concerned, upset, and angry all at once. First things first, he needs to know if you are going to be ok. Once that’s been established, he’ll be upset at himself for allowing this to happen. This will be replaced by the pure anger he feels at whoever, or whatever, caused this.

J-Jealousy (what do they do if they are jealous?)

When he gets jealous he turns into such a man child. He’s pouting and moping around while mumbling to himself. He develops quite a petty attitude. If you were to ask him “want to go get something to eat?” he’d respond with “why don’t you just go and ask ____ for some food.” But, as soon as you begin commenting on how jealous he’s acting he’s going to deny it to the end of his days.

K-Kill (would they kill for revenge?)

Ace literally hunted down Blackbeard so he could get revenge on him for killing Thatch. It’s not certain whether or not Ace had the intention of killing Blackbeard, however, he definitely had both the spirit and anger to go through with killing him. So, it is possible that Ace would kill for revenge. However, for the most part, he would prefer to just beat them senseless.

L-Loss (what is their greatest loss?)

Either Sabo or his mother’s death, would be considered Ace’s greatest loss. His mother died when he was a new-born, so he doesn’t particularly remember, or know, anything about her other than the fact that she was a kind wonderful woman. However, the loss of Sabo is something he remembers vividly. Losing Sabo had a major impact on Ace. It was an unfortunate wake up call as to how awful the world truly is.

M-Mistake (what is the worst mistake they ever made with you?)

One night, after a particularly bad day filled with a horrible series of events, Ace was letting off some steam (quite literally I suppose). Messing with his devil fruit power, throwing some flames around. He hadn’t noticed your presence and so his flames nearly burnt you. He was horrified, and he only felt worse after he noticed the pure terror in your eyes.

N-Nightmares (how often do they have them? What are they about? How do they deal with it?

Ace has nightmares frequently, they vary, but they all have the same underlying theme, that is, the people in his life don’t actually care about him and only view him the same way everyone else views the son of the pirate kind – a worthless devil with no right to life. He wakes up from his dreams in a sweat and finds himself in desperate need of fresh air (ya know to try and clear his mind). He ends up just sitting out on the deck of the Moby Dick looking up at the sky trying to tell himself it was all a dream. But his insecurity and self-doubt begin to resurface and soon he can’t discern imagination from reality. However, the moment someone else on the crew even speaks to Ace with something as simple as a “morning dude” he’s brought back down to earth and thinks to himself “no that’s right…. They love me… I wouldn’t be here right now if they didn’t.”

It’s a vicious cycle, but in the end, he manages to remember (even if it’s just for a little bit) that he is cherished.

O-Outrage (how and why would they get mad at you?)

When you continuously tell him there’s no need to stay and fight every single opponent. It’s okay to turn and runaway – in fact it’s safer to do that. When you say that he feels as though you don’t understand him. He’s not some careless, impulsive child who’s just looking for a fight (okay maybe he is a little bit). So he doesn’t really get super angry, it’s more so that he is frustrated and a little upset that you don’t try to see it from his perspective.

P-Past (what has happened in your relationship that changed the way you saw each other?)

It’s the same as the worst mistake he’s ever made with you – nearly burning you with his devil fruit. It made you realize that Ace can actually be quite dangerous (although you know he would NEVER hurt you intentionally). It made Ace realize that he needs to be more careful, the look of pure terror in your eyes has stayed with him ever since that incident, serving as a reminder.

Q-Quality (what is their most dangerous/toxic quality?)

His tendency to not back down from a fight is simultaneously his most endearing and toxic trait. He constantly places himself in dangerous situations with minimal concern for his own safety.

R-Rejection (how would they react to you rejecting their confession (or the other way around))

Having his confession rejected by you was definitely a blow to his self-esteem, but he respected and accepted your feelings. Instead of moping around about it he decides to laugh it off, trying to make light of a slightly disappointing situation.

S-Scars (battle or self-inflicted)

Ace does not have any scars, battle related or self-inflicted.

TW self-harm: I do think ace got worryingly close to self-harming, but Sabo and Luffy made him rethink it all.

T-Trust (have they ever broken your trust?)

The one and only time Ace broke your trust was after Blackbeards betrayal. You made him promise to take you with him when he left to hunt down Blackbeard because you didn’t want him to go alone. He promised but he had no intention of keeping that promise.

U-Urge (how badly do they want to see you after you guys separated?)

For a while Ace manages to get by by keeping himself preoccupied. But as soon as he lets up for even a minute, he realizes how much he misses you and is beyond tempted to just sail on back to wherever you are and tackle you to the ground plastering your face in lil kisses. When he’s not distracted, he really does miss you a lot. He hyper-fixates on what you could be doing at this very moment, whether or not you miss him too etc.

V-Vicious (what do they do when they lash out on you?)

When ace gets mad, he tends to get very loud. He raises his voice quite a lot and it becomes very, very frightening. He would never physically hurt you, but the anger and frustration in his voice is more than another to scare the shit out of you.

W-Weak (what makes them feel weak how do they try to avoid it?)

Constantly being reminded or associated with the Pirate King. Maybe it doesn’t make him feel weak, but it makes him feel horrible inside and stirs up a lot of feelings and remarks people would make when he was younger. Unfortunately, once word gets out there isn’t much Ace can do to stop this from happening, however, before this, Ace avoided this by not telling ANYONE. He only told Luffy and Sabo, with a very small handful of others knowing (i.e Garp).

X-X-ray (what do they hate and show it most obviously?)

He hates turning his back on a fight or turning his back on people that talk shit about those he cares about. This is seen during the Marineford arc. He doesn’t let Akainus words about Whitebeard slide. He doesn’t runaway. He has no tolerance for that shit.

Y-Yearn (what is one thing that they want but can’t have?)

Ok this may be dark as hell but, Ace just wants to not feel like a burden to the world. He wants to be viewed as something different/separate from his father, but he can’t change history.

Z-Zero (what do they do/say in your dying moments?)

He doesn’t let you go. He’ll hold on to you until he is forcefully separated from your body. He just starts to spout a lot of nonsense – things don’t make sense at all, but he can’t help it right now. He can’t think properly when you’re about to leave him. He just wants you to stay.

[evieonic]

In Simple Joy and Peace (3/14/2021)

So I was thinking about LuSan and then the scene with Toriel where she’s pregnant with Asriel and something like this happened. I- I don’t know why but i mean, cute?? 

Although I didn't do it, I'm actually wondering if I should make a part 2 to this that contains the wedding and maybe them flashing back to when Sanji proposed to Luffy. I'm not sure tho. What do y'all think?

This story is on ao3 but you can also read it here by scrolling down past the summary!

In Simple Joy and Peace (Published: March/14/2021)

      Pairing: Luffy x Sanji

      Fandom: One Piece

     Trigger Warning: None.

      Length: 2262 Words, 1 Chapter. Completed.

       Summary: He chuckled, tightening his arm around Luffy to bring him a little closer, “Oh, i know what you mean now,” he lowered his voice to a more charming tone as he leaned forward to kiss the black haired man but then he pulled away slightly, grinning cheekily, “your birthday?”

      “Sanji!” Luffy glared at him, propping himself up on his elbows as he slapped Sanji’s chest. “You know full well that tomorrow isn’t my birthday!”

      Sanji only laughed and brought his angry love back into his hold, “I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he chuckled and this time kissed him for real, making Luffy melt against him instantly. He pulled back to stare into those chocolate brown eyes he’s come to adore and decided to quit teasing the poor man.

       “It’s our wedding day,” he said softly, watching as those darling eyes widened and a blush dusted his husband-to-be’s cheeks.

      Luffy smiled as if he had been reminded of the most happiest memory he ever had and that’s exactly how he felt. Tomorrow, in the evening, the two of them were going to be wed. They would husbands, bound together in eternal love, until death do they part. And even after death, Sanji would never let Luffy part from him.

---------------

---------------

“Sanji...” A voice whispered in the silence of the night. There was barely any sound in the wood paneled room except the soft breathing of the man in question and sound of a gentle breeze making the waves roll outside the window.

       The man in question let out a hum but otherwise didn’t respond.

“Sanji...!” The voice said again, a little harsher this time.

      “Yes?” Sanji finally responded, not even cracking open his eyes to peer at the man beside him, curled up into his chest, half naked and wide awake for some reason. It hadn’t been long since Sanji started to fall asleep but now, you could say that his plans of getting a good sleep were ruined.

      The voice only giggled, “guess what day tomorrow is~”

Sanji smiled slightly. Adorable, he thought to himself. “Christmas?” he asked, playing hard to get, knowing full well that it was currently summer.

      “Nooo...,” The man whined, a wide smile evident in his voice, “try again~”

The blond took in a deep breath, more awake now than before. He rolled over onto his side, gently placing a hand on his love’s hip, cracking opening his eyes. He saw the brown eyes of Luffy twinkling at him, expecting an answer. “Easter?”

      “Sanji-”  Luffy clicked his tongue, pouting like a child, “it’s not a holiday!”

He chuckled, tightening his arm around Luffy to bring him a little closer, “Oh, i know what you mean now,” he lowered his voice to a more charming tone as he leaned forward to kiss the black haired man but then he pulled away slightly, grinning cheekily, “your birthday?”

      “Sanji!” Luffy glared at him, propping himself up on his elbows as he slapped Sanji’s chest. “You know full well that tomorrow isn’t my birthday!”

      Sanji only laughed and brought his angry love back into his hold, “I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he chuckled and this time kissed him for real, making Luffy melt against him instantly. He pulled back to stare into those chocolate brown eyes he’s come to adore and decided to quit teasing the poor man. 

      “It’s our wedding day,” he said softly, watching as those darling eyes widened and a blush dusted his husband-to-be’s cheeks.

      Luffy smiled as if he had been reminded of the most happiest memory he ever had and that’s exactly how he felt. Tomorrow, in the evening, the two of them were going to be wed. They would husbands, bound together in eternal love, until death do they part. And even after death, Sanji would never let Luffy part from him.

      It was strange to think about now. Tomorrow was the day they were going to be married, Sanji always thought when this day came, he’d be wed to a beautiful woman - someone like Nami or maybe exactly Nami-chan. But things didn’t turn out that way, he was quite happy about that.

      It took a while but after his time on the ship with his determined, brave, admirable but aloof captain, he realized he was deeply in love with him. It took him even longer to finally confess to the boy and when he did, the result was unique to say the least.

      “You love me?” Luffy had said that day, staring up at Sanji with confusion. “I always knew that, Sanji, I love you, too!” He beamed at the cook.

      Sanji blushed but he realized quickly who he was confessing to. He shook his head, “no, Luffy, you don’t understand. I love you as a man to... well... another man.”

      Luffy only looked even more confused. He tilted his head ever so slightly, “so...,” he started, “like me and Ace?”

      Quickly, Sanji shook his head, “no, not like a brother.”

“Like me and Zoro?” Luffy asked, trying his hardest to understand. It wasn’t like he was rejecting his feelings, Sanji could tell that Luffy just honestly did not understand. It was to be expected, this was Luffy he was talking to. Sanji maybe should’ve planned this out a little better.

      “No, not like captain and first mate,” Sanji shook his head, letting out a little sigh. How should he explain this?

      Luffy let out a hum, his brow furrowing in concentration as he tried to understand it. 

      “You know how I look at Nami?” Sanji asked. It was weird example to use and he felt uncomfortable using it, but it was the only way it would click for Luffy.

      He nodded, “yes.”

“And how I look at Robin?” 

      Again, Luffy nodded.

“That’s how I look at you too.” Sanji said, “expect with you... it’s actual feelings. I actually do love you and want to be with you.”

      Luffy tilted his head, folding his arms as he thought over what Sanji was saying. “So you... you think of me as a woman?” he raised an eyebrow, really trying to understand. 

      Sanji couldn’t help but chuckle. He was getting closer but not quite there yet. He sighed, leaning down a bit so his eyes were level with Luffy’s. “Listen. You know how a man sometimes falls in love with a woman, and as they fall deeper in love with each other, they get married?”

      Luffy nodded and Sanji continued, ��that’s how I feel about you. But not because I see you as a woman. I see you as you and I love you.”

      The aloof captain thought about it for a second before his eyes widened in realization and his cheeks turned a deep red. Ah, he finally got it. Sanji grinned even though he intended to keep a serious expression on his face. It’s just the result of it finally clicking for Luffy was a lot cuter than he thought it would be. 

      “O-Oh...,” Luffy responded, clutching on his hat to hide his eyes, “I-I see.”

“You don’t have to return my feelings you know,” Sanji said quickly, not wanting to make the poor captain uncomfortable, “it’s okay if you don’t feel the same.”

      “A-Ah, no, that’s not it,” Luffy stammered and Sanji felt a little hopeful from his words. “N-No, it’s just... I’m not experienced with those kinds of things, Sanji. Literally not experienced with anything in that department.”

      He tilted his hat back so Sanji could see his flustered face, his eyes glued to the floor as he tried to explain his thoughts, “I don’t know why I never really- like you- with those things.” 

      Sanji knew in this moment he was supposed to be serious and understanding. He understood what Luffy was trying to say. He didn’t feel the concept of romantic or sexual attraction the way some people did, definitely not as much as Sanji did. 

      But Sanji couldn’t stop himself from just melting from the sight of a shy, flustered Luffy. It was look he had never seen on Luffy and he loved it. However, now wasn’t the time for that and he knew it. “That’s okay,” he said honestly with a smile, “you’re a little different when it comes to things like that and that’s okay. You’ll learn as you go through relationships with or without me and as time goes by, you might understand it a bit more. And if you don’t that’s fine too.” 

      Luffy’s blush deepened as he shifted on his feet, glancing away from Sanji’s kind words. “T-Thank you for saying that.” 

      “It’s nothing to thank me for, it’s an honest statement,” Sanji said.

Luffy cleared his throat, a brief silence coming over them before he went back to the topic at hand, “I know that someday I might get it but the thing is right now, I don’t. I don’t really understand my feelings for you. I can’t tell you if it’s love or something else.”

      “Do you think you could clarify it?”

The captain let out a hum, glancing away from Sanji’s brown eyes for a second before responding, “It’s... different than how i feel about everyone else,” Luffy said. He stumbled over his words, explaining slowly but carefully about how he felt, “It’s not like with Ace. You would make a good brother but I just don’t... see you that way.”

      Sanji chuckled. Always so nice. “I see, that’s fine. Do you see me like Zoro?”

Luffy took another second to think before slowly shaking his head, “no... I don’t think so. Zoro is amazing,” he chuckled, “but... he’s my friend and I think that’s it.”

      Sanji nodded, “how about Nami?”

“Nami?” Luffy frowned.

      “Like how I look at Nami. Is it anything like that with me?”

Luffy paused, tilting his head again in thought, “I don’t think so. I’m not sure what it is, to be honest.”

      “I see,” Sanji said, his heart dropping a little bit. Maybe Luffy really did see him as a friend and just a friend.

      “But...,” Luffy continued, “I like talking to you more than the others. I like being near you more than the others. I think you’re so cool and fun to be around that I like spending time with you more than... the others.” he blushed before clearing his throat, meeting Sanji’s eyes, “but I don’t know if that’s love or just... if I like you a lot as a friend.”

      Sanji blinked, mulling over what Luffy said. It could be possible... maybe... “I see,” he answered, “well to be honest, from what you’ve told me, I think I am someone you’re interested in.”

      “R-Really?” Luffy stammered, his eyes widening slightly.

“However,” Sanji continued, “like you, I don’t know if that’s love or just friendly admiration.”

      “Oh...” Luffy said, looking a little sad from that outcome. 

Sanji smiled, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t be in a relationship.” Luffy looked confused for a moment before Sanji continued, “most of the time, Luffy, when two people get into a relationship, there’s a mutual basis of love but it’s so unclear and weak that that’s why people go into a relationship in the first place. If we both knew for sure that we were madly in love with each other, why not skip everything and get married right here, right now?”

      He leaned up, “love is the foundation of all relationships and when you want to spend your lives together, you need to make sure that foundation is strong. That’s why people date first. It’s so they can build upon that foundation or learn that the foundation can’t get stronger. Dating is how you learn if you truly love someone.”

      “So with all of that being said,” he cleared his throat, “do you want to try a relationship with me? We can go as slow as you want and if you ever decide that it doesn't work, we can part ways.”

      Luffy glanced at the ground for a minute, thinking about it. He was silent for a long time before looking back up at the blond, “I... I think I’d like to.”

Sanji grinned, “okay. Then as of today, we are officially dating.”

      Luffy chuckled, blushing wildly, “c-cool!”

He was going to be awkward about this, Sanji could already tell but he didn’t care. It was adorable. 

      “That means no flirting or looking at other ladies. Or guys,” Sanji said seriously, earning a playful glare from Luffy.

“Oi, oi, why are you warning me? You’re the one who needs to be careful now. I’ll get upset if you look at anyone else,” he grinned and already the new relationship was starting to feel like it fitted right into place with how they usually were. 

      They took things slow. Very slow. It took almost six years before Luffy could finally tell Sanji that he loved him the same way that Sanji felt about him. And that was when Sanji asked Luffy to marry him and now, here they were, in bed, nearly an hour after midnight, excited for tomorrow. 

      Luffy curled further against his side, nuzzling his nose against Sanji’s, his eyes twinkling like a night sky during a meteor shower, “correct,” he said, softly, “tomorrow is the day that I become Luffy Vinsmoke!” 

      “Oi, I thought tomorrow was the day I become Sanji D. Monkey,” The blond chuckled. Truth be told, neither of them could really decide on a last name. They tried to figure out what would fit before finally choosing to not take eithers. Last names weren’t really that important anyway. What really mattered was the marriage itself.

      “Nooo,” Luffy whined, “I want to be Luffy Vinsmoke. Luffy... D. Vinsmoke,” He giggled, “and then you can be Sanji D. Vinsmoke. Genius idea, yeah?”

      Sanji laughed, placing a kiss on Luffy’s temple and another on his nose, “yes, very genius idea.”

      Luffy laughed as Sanji placed more kisses on his face, wrapping his strong arms around his thin waist. He melted against his warmth, feeling a wave of peace and comfort roll over him.

“I’m so excited, I can’t sleep,” Luffy said honestly, “I wish it already was tomorrow.”

      “Oh?” Sanji hummed, his voice lowering into a more sultry down. Uh oh. You give Sanji an inch, he’ll take a mile and that’s exactly what he was going to do. “Need help getting tired~?” he asked with a mischievous grin, now trailing his kisses down to the rubber man’s neck.

      His husband-to-be only giggled, carding his fingers through the blond’s hair, “Maaaybe~” he said back with an equally mischievous tone of voice. 

      He smiled as he pressed his lips firmly against Sanji’s, nearly purring at the taste of him. He couldn’t wait to be married to this man and spend the rest of their lives just like this.

      In simple joy and peace.

[scarecrow-supremacy]

Arranged Love | Pt 4

Thank you to Mrs. Hatake for requesting this prompt to me!

In which: f!reader is interested in being in a fwb like relationship, but is forced into an arranged marriage with the one and only, Hatake Kakashi. Both (y/n) and Kakashi only agree to marry for the sake of convivence. (y/n) with her needs, and Kakashi with his wish to revive his clan.

AO3 Chapter

Lime/Smut warning 

*Lime, but the next chapter will probably be smut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)*

Infinite things I could hate about you

The way you walk

The way you talk

The way you capture my mind

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, tick...

You counted the soft noises of the clock, knowing full well that your alarm clock was bound to go off at any moment now. You could have gotten up to start your day early, but you, quite frankly, lack the motivation to do so. Anyways, it was your day off. Being productive is highly overrated... You mentally uttered. Why get out of bed when you could cuddle with your plush lavender body-sized pillow all morning? You groaned, your actions making your further realize how friggen lonely you felt within. If only the pillow could have been a person...

You glared daggers at the rose gold engagement ring upon your finger. Technically, you really weren't lonely. Hell, there was a part of you that would have preferred to be alone again. Why him?! Annoyed thoughts swarmed your mind, keeping you from attaining proper relaxation. Of all people...Why him? You pulled your pillow closer to your chest, burying your face into the cool silken cover and squeezing it tightly. Why, why, why? Your mind paced. It wasn't that you were thinking about him, Hatake Kakashi, so much. It was how you thought about him that filled you up with despair.

New feelings...shining in a new light.

What is wrong with me?!

Your eyes traveled to your stomach, your diary still opened up to the page you were writing last night. The whole diary idea was Kurenai's, back when you were made jonin, around the age of 14. She knew you weren't the best with opening up to people. So to let out your pains, she had recommended writing about them. And in honesty, you were glad that you had decided to take her advice. Writing did make you feel better. Ranting out all of your troubles without any worries of being judged. As of these days, most of your entries were about Kakashi or how you wanted to relieve yourself. It's almost concerned you that you wrote about him so damn much. Just shove him aside!

"Urg!" Your groaned, gathering the willpower to get up from your blanket cocoon and take a nice and warm shower, "Sulking won't do any good..." With a sigh, you entered your kitchen, telling yourself that you'd shower after grabbing something to replenish your hunger. It was glaringly obvious that cooking wasn't your forte. In fact, you were absolutely horrendous at it. Honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if you somehow managed to burn water while trying to boil it.  You, the woman dubbed Ibara-hime, the Thorn Princess, could not cook if your life depended on it.

After contemplating what you could make without burning your kitchen down, you simply made yourself a cup of your favorite herbal tea to energize your body. It wasn't much, but it helped wake you up.

Ding dong, the bell to your apartment rang. "Gimme a sec!" You called out the person, throwing on your flak jacket just for formalities. "Oh..." Your face fell, yet your stomach fluttered, "It's you–"

"Yeah, it's me," one Hatake Kakashi mocked the tone you had greeted him with, running his fingers through his silvery hair. You didn't want to think much of it, but his hair just looked so soft...

"What do ya want, Hatake?" You put your hands on your hips and pouted.

Kakashi groaned as he made himself welcome inside your quaint home, "I'm bored," He simply told you, plopping himself right in the middle of your couch. What a dick, you muttered, having to sit on a chair instead of the sofa. "Wahh..?" You whispered as Kakashi's eyes took in ever single bit of you. Your skin started to burn, although his gaze wasn't exactly giving off a positive vibe. "Stop eyeing me like that, Hatake." You mustered up the courage to spit out.

"Oi, it's not my fault," Kakashi sassed, "Take a look at what you're wearing, yariman." Slut, his deep and rich voice had called you.

Anger stirred up inside of you, along with embarrassment, causing your skin to feel as if it was on fire. You felt yourself get flustered as you looked down at your short skirt, which had rid up your legs, and lacy dark green bra that had been reveled by your unzipped vest. "O-oh!" You breathed, your hand going to zip up your flak jacket, yet was slapped away before you could. "What the hell, Hatake?" You flashed him a bewildered look.

Kakashi chuckled smugly, the smirk under his mask apparent, "Don't... I kinda like you dressed like this." He stated matter-of-factly.

"But you j-just," You stuttered out, "called me a..." you trailed off, averting you eyes. Urg, the audacity of this pervert, your inner self spoke. "Perverted idiot."

"Call me what you want," Kakashi grabbed your hand, "I'm your perverted idiot, forever." He laughed softly. Woah, he never acts like this...

"Did somebody drug you?" you sweat-dropped, unintentionally blurted out your thoughts, "You normally don't act like this."

Kakashi sent you a wary look, but you could tell he felt slightly hurt by your remark, "No..." he replied cautiously, "I just thought...it would be good to loosen up."

Your expression softened ever so slightly, "Oh..." the two of you sat in pin drop silence.

"You know," Kakashi ventured, "dark green is my favorite color."

"Hatake!" You yelped, instinctively covering your chest, "I'm going to take a shower!" You turned you back to your dreaded fiancé, stomping out of the room to go bathe.

"I might as well join you then," Kakashi shrugged, causing you to stop dead in your tracks.

"I'm sorry what?!" you exclaimed

"I haven't showered yet today."

"Urg..!" He's drugged, I'm sure of it... you thought, finally giving in to Kakashi. "Kitanai yarō!"

 "Well," Kakashi tapped his foot, carefully placing his flak jacket upon the silken sheets of your bed, "aren't you going to strip down?" He asked as he started to remove the cloth bindings from his thigh and ankles.

"Y-yeah..." you flushed softly, "J-just gimme a second." You dashed off, tossing my clothes into your basket of dirty laundry and grabbing a towel to wrap around your bare body, "Okay..." you mumbled, peaking your head out from the bathroom. The tension in the room was heavy and hot, almost uncomfortable. It was...something you had never felt. Hence, you couldn't put your finger on a way properly to describe the situation. Yet heat rushed to your core, even the tiniest smidge of arousal turning on your mind. You felt like your every movement was being recorded in Kakashi's mind. His gaze digging into your soul like a kunai in delicate flesh. Like his– No, no, no, no! No pervy thoughts, (y/n)! Stay classy, you ordered your mind, preventing it from trailing off. We have a dignity, remember?

You hesitantly got into the shower, testing the waters for the proper temperature. "Ahhh," you moaned ever so slightly, the raining down of the water slipping down your body and rejuvenating your sores from the previous night's round of nightmares. "Oi..." Kakashi started to speak as he entered the shower from behind you, ending up grunting incoherently. You shook your head, sighing in disapproval whilst rubbing from body wash into your soft (s/t) skin. You felt a pair of hands brush past your hair, reaching for the hair conditioner, "Rose and sandalwood, eh? No wonder you smell like a garden and incense shop." Kakashi breathed down your neck.

You tried your best not to look back at him, your heart racing for reasons you tried to reject. Nope! We can't be falling for him! You let out a slight gasp as Kakashi's hands found their way to your hips, tracing the gracefully toned muscles of your stomach. "Kakashi...what are you doing?" You whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the running water.

"I read your diary," you could practically heard the smirk on Kakashi's face, "I think I can help you with your needs..." Kakashi licked the helix of your ear. A shudder went down your spine, a foreign though crossing your mind. Maybe, just maybe, we could make this work... your mind ventured. "Kami, I've been having some problems myself, big problems..." Kakashi told you, his voice velvety coffee as he nipped at your neck. His hardening length pressing against your round ass. You could feel your walls start to clench; you were surprised that your body was reacting to Kakashi's touch like this.

No disturbance could get in the way of this exhilarating moment, right?

"(Y/N)! RAIDŌ ASKED ME OUT! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT!" The voice of Mitarashi Anko screeched, she wandered into your bathroom, "YESS!"

"Anko..." You cringed, clenching your fists, "W-wrong t-time..." You moaned as Kakashi's finger teased your clit.

"What?" Anko called out, "I can't hear you over the water. Could ya speak up."

Kakashi pumped faster, "You heard her, louder." His intentions directing towards your moans, blessed music to his ears.

You sucked your breath, "N-never m-mind, Anko!" You managed to force out, trying your absolute hardest to not moan.

"Wait...Is that..." Anko's voice trailed off, "Kakashi's mask, and his..."

"A-anko! Pl-pleas j-just..." you bit your tongue, "go. Ju-just tell me l-later!" You begged her, turning to look at Kakashi with pleading eyes. Not now, Kakashi, you tried to convey with your widened (e/c) eyes.

"OH HELL NO! SORRY!" Anko cried out, causing Kakashi to pull his fingers out of you with a let down sigh. The smoke of Anko's hasty teleportation jutsu lingering for a few moments.

The mood had officially been broken. Thanks a lot, Anko, you mentally swore. But holy hell, you were about to get laid. Shamefully, you looked at the floor as Kakashi rinsed our your hair. "I–" you tried to speak, yet your voice faltered as you took a moment to observe Kakashi's face.

"Are you still in for it?" Kakashi raised his eyebrow; his left eye lidded.

"Oh! Uh..." your heart suddenly fluttered, "Y-yeah." You told him shyly.

Kakashi flashed you a smirk, "How about we just dry off, then..." He winked at you.

Yep, I'm convinced he's drugged... There's no other explanation...

Infinite things I try to love about you

They way you walk

The way you talk

The way you capture my mind

[foilfreak]

BEAUTY AND HER BEAST: Chapter 9 (temporary 1-2 week hiatus being taken from his fic, click ao3 link and read end notes to find out why. I WILL BE COMING BACK!!!)

WARNING PLZ READ BEFORE CONTINUING: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

(AO3 link below)

Despite the shrill echo of Nadine’s terrified voice being something Salvatore has prepared himself for since before the young woman even arrived in the reservoir, the real thing was still somehow 100 times worse than he could have ever imagined it being.

Chaos followed as Salvatore frantically left his hiding spot, crawling across the floor as quickly as his mangled body would allow, as a loud crashing sound vibrates the whole room once Nadine’s body finally lands, quite uncomfortably I might add, on the hardwood of the floor. The sudden frantic and terrified swinging of her arms following Salvatore’s verbal slip knocked the poor woman off balance, sending her right back down to the floor for a second time.

Staring at the writhing figure of Nadine from the other corner across the room, Salvatore sniffles pitifully to himself as tears cascade down his face. Oh how appropriately cruel, that the universe wouldn’t even give Salvatore the decency of a proper meeting with Nadine, much less a chance at friendship and even less at anything past that. It makes perfect sense that this would be the way Nadine found out how disgusting and pathetic he is. Sitting alone in a dark and dingy room, watching old romance films because he has no one of his own to hold and love like the men in the movies do, and eating entire blocks of cheese all on his own, because nothing pairs with unending loneliness like the tang of sharp cheddar and the horrible stomach ache that follows it.

Putting his hands up to cover his face, a final effort to hide himself away from the beautiful woman’s gaze, Salvatore merely sat in his new corner, his shoulders shaking with sobs of agony and his body trembling in fear as Nadine’s gaze finally locked on to him, and him alone this time, in the dark silence of the room.

“H-Hey… are you alright? I’m sorry I yelled like that, I didn’t mean to startle you like that, but you suddenly spoke up out of nowhere and it scared me half to death” The soft voice from across the room asks, causing Salvatore to pause in his moment of self-loathing. Did… did she just ask him if he was alright? Wasn’t he the one who was supposed to ask her that?

“W-what…?” Salvatore chokes out, peering out slightly from behind the cover of his hood in confusion. The sight he’s met with is one that steals his breath away, much like the first time he laid eyes upon the stunning beauty this tiny woman held. However, unlike their “first” meeting, that took place back in Mother Miranda’s lab, this time there was no metal pod separating the two, Salvatore realized, as the sight of Nadine, slouched tiredly on the ground barely a few feet away from where he cowered in the corner, registered in the mutant man’s mind.

Next, of course, came her actual appearance. Black strands tousled messily across her forehead framed her round face and golden eyes perfectly. Her long white dress bunched up around her upper thighs, revealing the curves of her large, but muscular legs, that had previously been obscured by the material of her dress. Slouched shoulders and heavy breathing caused the material of Nadine’s nightgown to slowly inched its way down the front of her chest, not exposing her necessarily, but definitely revealing more and more of her lusciously plump breasts with every harsh up and down of her shoulders.

Tears continued to fall from Salvatore’s eyes even as saliva began to fill his mouth and his fear and self-loathing slowly gave way to the growing fire beginning to kindle in the pit of his stomach. The sound of his muffled sobs of anguish and arousal escaping from behind his hands causes Nadine’s face to immediately fall, agony replacing the previously wild look her face held.

“N… N-no. No no, please don’t cry. It’s alright. I-I-I’m not going to hurt you… I mean it… see… I don’t have any weapons on me” Nadine says hurriedly, standing up and doing a spin to show that nothing that could pose potential harm to Salvatore was hiding between the folds or frills of the thin garment. “See! Nothing to hide.”

Salvatore merely closed his tear soaked eyes and shook his head, the motion moving his whole body along with it. “Nooooooooooo… y-you d-don’t… under-s-stand…”

“What do you mean? What don’t I understand?” Nadine asked, kneeling back down to the ground, moving slightly closer to Salvatore than she was before, a terrifyingly genuine look of concern and worry etched into her beautiful features.

The mutant man fought back a wave of nausea and choked on a sob at the angelic sight. Hoards of hormones equating to despair and arousal battle within the hellish confines of Salvatore’s brain. The mutant man was filled with so many mixed emotions that he genuinely couldn’t tell if he wanted to tear himself apart until not a scrap of evidence of his existence remained, or if he wanted to just spring forward and consume the delectably dangerous morsel that sat so prettily before him, like an octopus latching itself upon the almighty great white shark as it just passes above their home, pulling the now helpless and unsuspecting predator down into the depths of a true monster’s domain.

“Hey, come on now. It sounds like you’re having a hard time breathing. Why don’t you come out of the corner where the air’s a little fresher, ya?” The young woman coaxes gently, moving ever so slightly closer to Salvatore as she speaks. The movement does not go unnoticed by the hooded man, nor does the way it pushes her dress even further up her already decently exposed thighs, but with little ability to stop Nadine’s incremental advances, Salvatore merely buries his face into his hands, blocking as much of his disgustingly bloated maw as he possibly could, even as the young woman attempted to change her angle to get a better look at him.

“P-p-please… jus-just stop!” Salvatore commands, suddenly filled with a wave of confidence that abandons him just as quickly as it arrived. “j-j-j… j-just… g-go… please…”

A light mist has become visible in the light reflecting off of Nadine’s eyes, the young woman looking truly saddened by the strange man’s utter rejection of her. Whether it was out of pity for Salvatore’s sake, or fear of her own impending isolation should the likes of Salvatore even reject her company, the hooded man could neither tell, nor did he really want to know.

“Well that’s not a very nice thing to say to someone trying to be your friend now is it? I might not look as normal as I used to but I’m not here to cause any trouble” Nadine scolds lightly, her voice strong, though even Salvatore can detect a slight wobble. “But… if you can give me a valid reason why I should leave, then… then I’ll do it, no questions asked.”

A valid reason? What other reason did she need than to get away from him?

Salvatore takes a moment to wipe away some of the tears that coated his face, slightly peeking out to look at the younger woman once again before speaking. “Y-you… you can’t… s-stay here… th-this place… it i-isn’t… isn’t g-good enough f-for you… it’s… i-its not w-worthy… I-i… I’m… n-not worthy… of you…”

Nadine shifts slightly closer once again, a pained look cut into her face like a raging storm cuts through large waves out in the open ocean. Her whole body was a sea of turbulent waters as she gingerly reached her hand forward, slowly but surely inching her way closer to Salvatore, until her wine dark fingers just barely brushed against the thick, rugged fabric of his overcoat.

Silence befell the two mutants, permeating the room with tension so thick and heavy Salvatore thought he might suffocate.

The cornered man could not bring himself to look up as Nadine’s delicate fingers gently latched on to the article of clothing covering his wretched and disgusting form. Salvatore shuddered as he prepared himself for what was inevitably to come once Nadine removed his overcoat: the biting cold of the surrounding area pinching and nipping at his thick, but sensitive flesh; another shrill shriek of fear and terror that would pierce him to his very core; the sound of Nadine, beautiful, gorgeous, perfect, immaculate Nadine, fleeing not just the underground tunnels that had lead her to discover this place, but also the reservoir, never to be seen again.

Salvatore wouldn’t blame her for this choice, of course. After all, it’s what he would do if he found himself trapped with a wretched creature as grotesque and pitiful as he himself was. Death wasn’t an option Salvatore had the luxury of entertaining, but he never blamed others if they chose it over him.

He would too, if he could.

Despite his earlier expectations, the hand on his coat never moves to take the garment off the trembling man, instead, moving to gently run along the side of Salvatore’s head, down his shoulders, before resting itself softly, but firmly, along the area of growths that covered the small of his back. After taking a moment to allow the violent trembling of Salvatore’s body, in response to the young woman’s gentle caresses, to calm down to something more manageable, Nadine slowly lifts her left hand and rests it on the opposite side of the hunched-over man’s head, yet she makes no move to try and take his cloak off or remove his face from his hands.

Stillness and silence return for a brief moment, almost as though Nadine were waiting for Salvatore to raise objection to her advances and stop her, as if he had the power or control to do anything but cower in the corner and cover his growing excitement in shame. With no explicit objections voiced, the hands resting gently around Salvatore began to slowly pull him toward Nadine’s body.

“Come here” Nadine’s soft, heavenly voice commands lightly, as Salvatore’s body does as instructed with no resistance whatsoever. A broken sob of humiliating arousal escapes the hooded man when he gently falls forward into Nadine’s lap, her arms quickly moving to wrap around and hold the hooded man against her soft, warm, and strong body.

“Shhhh, it’s alright. There’s no need to be so worked up. You have nothing to be afraid of, here” Nadine coos soothingly, as her hand gently caresses his thin, leather covered arm.

Salvatore cries pitifully as the painfully comforting words and actions make him want to vomit from overjoy. “Y-you… you d-dont unders-s-stand…” the hunched man weeps, his voice slightly muffled by his knees as he continues trying to hide his face by shoving it as far between his legs as he’s physically capable.

“What don’t I understand? Could you explain it to me?” Nadine asks, patiently holding the sobbing mess of a man firmly against herself as he collects himself enough to answer.

“I-it isn’t… you… th-that I f-fear…” Salvatore begins, trailing off as another wave of cold dread and fiery desire collide violently somewhere deep inside the hooded man’s chest.

“What is it that you’re afraid of then? If not... me?” The young woman’s angelic voice questioned, the slightly fearful and worried tone of her voice toward the end of her question, as if what Salvatore thought of her was even worth her precious time to worry about, made the mutant man’s stomach wretch sickeningly.

“I-I… I f-fear… oh god-” Salvatore began, before promptly shutting up and shoving Nadine as far away from him as he could from that angle, throwing himself to the floor, on his hands and knees, in the opposite direction just as a wave of acidic bile forces its way from the confines of the man’s mouth and out onto the floor in front of him. His own hideous reflection stares back at him in the growing puddle of stomach acid once he’s done.

A spiteful reminder from the universe of what he was and why he lived the way that he did.

Drunkenly reaching his hand forward to smear the vomit puddle around so he at least didn’t have to look at himself AND sit in his own filth while he gathered the energy to get up and wash off in the lake, Salvatore missed the way Nadine’s eyes narrowed in confusion at the man’s clumsy movements, before suddenly widening as she realized what the hooded man was doing.

“No, wait! Don’t touch that, it’ll only make you feel worse if you fiddle around with that nasty stuff” Nadine says hurriedly, as she rushes forward to take Salvatore’s moving hand in her own and presses it firmly against her bosom to prevent the man from playing around in his own throw up. She gasps in shock and her grip tightens around Salvatore’s hand, as though she’d suddenly remembered something important she’d forgotten about and Salvatore’s hand had brought it back to her conscious mind, before shaking her head and pulling herself from her thoughts.

“Oh, you poor thing! Here, let me wipe your face for you, and try to take deeper, slower breaths while you’re at it. You’ve managed to work yourself into such a panic that it's no wonder you’re throwing up all over yourself.”

The room is spinning far too fast and in far too many different directions for Salvatore to really be sure what’s going on, however the feeling of Nadine’s skin pressed against his own as she tenderly raised the edge of her pristine white dress to wipe away the lines of green acidic bile that had been left on Salvatore’s lip, was a sensation of euphoria unlike anything the hooded man has ever felt before in his entire life.

Not even Mother Miranda’s own embrace felt quite as… ‘brutal’ wasn’t the appropriate word to use based on its true definition, but in that instance it's the only word that Salvatore can think of to describe how intense everything around him, Nadine especially, feels at the present moment. Her touch, her scent, her warmth, her weight, her firm grip around him, the constant rhythmic thrum of her heart beat against his cold, bony hand, all of it was so intensely brutal that it was a wonder how the combined effect didn’t beat him into the floor. It was too much for Salvatore to handle all at once, and yet he knew that if the kind angel sitting next to him retracted so much as a single one of those sensations, he’d lose himself to insanity like careless swimmers lose themselves to sudden rapid currents.

Salvatore threw up 3 more times before his stomach finally allowed him the relief the hooded man had desperately been craving. The floor was an absolute mess by this point, but thanks to Nadine, who’d managed to keep his upper body upright the whole time, Salvatore hadn’t made nearly as much of a mess of himself as he normally did, though that still didn’t fix the primary problem that had resulted in all that vomiting.

“There we go. That must feel a lot better, huh?” Nadine asks calmly, pulling Salvatore in to rest against her chest once again, his face still turned downward and away in avoidance.

Although Salvatore does not grace her question with a response, the hooded man has long since given up trying to get away from the young woman, at this point just allowing her to move him however she pleased, taking in as much of her kindness and affection as he possibly could, before she inevitably hightails it out of here, of course. It was only a matter of time, at this rate.

“You know… you’re a lot bigger than I expected you to be” comes a sudden declaration from Nadine, breaking the silence that had permeated throughout the room and immediately pulling Salvatore from his dejected whimpering.

“I mean… I suppose I should have expected that, especially since most middle schoolers are taller than me, nowadays” the young woman continues with a lighthearted chuckle, “but you looked so small and stump-like from all the way up in that stupid pod that I couldn’t help but be a little surprised when I felt you had arms and legs. You could have very well had a snake for a body for all I knew and I still don’t think I’d have been as surprised, though this huge coat you're wearing certainly doesn’t make getting a good look at you very easy.”

“Th… that’s th-the point…” Salvatore mumbles, though seemingly more to himself than anyone else.

“Really? And why is that?” Nadine asks curiously, clearly having heard the older man’s muttering.

“I-if… if you k-knew me… you’d know… th-the answer to that q-question” Salvatore replies sadly, fresh tears beginning to prickle along his lower lid, threatening to spill over as the depressing reality of his meaningless existence makes itself more than obvious.

He was a filthy monster who deserved to spend the rest of his life alone and miserable, because why would something as unholy as him ever be worthy of anything else?

“Oh, now I don’t think that’s true at all. After all, I’d like to think I know you pretty well, and I still want to see what you look like” Nadine counters, her words shocking Salvatore beyond belief.

She… knew him? How? When? In what ways? What?

The only other time they’ve ever interacted was back in Mother Miranda’s laboratory. While the hooded man supposed his gifts could be aiding in Nadine’s surprisingly positive impression of him, he hesitated to call receiving a dress and a necklace from a random stranger “knowing” someone. How on earth could she say she knew him when, for all intents and purposes, they’ve only just met?

“B-b-but… h-how… how d-do you k-know… m-me? Y-you have… t-trouble… seeing… d-dont you? D-did… did y-you see me… b-back in the l-lab?” Salvatore asks, tears belonging to an unspecified emotion once again beginning to fall as a hand moves to gently grasp at the bones lining the top of his hood.

“Unfortunately no, I wasn’t able to get a good look at you before, hence why I was trying so hard to catch a glimpse of you earlier. You are, however, right in the assumption about my eyesight. I have severely impaired vision, yes, but it's manageable with a strong enough prescription; not that I see myself getting to an eye doctor anytime soon for a new pair of contacts. But even without my contact lenses, I can still make out general movements, as well as general shapes and colors, pretty easily from far away, it's just fine details from a distance and darkness that give me the most trouble. My vision is actually perfectly normal so long as whatever I’m looking at is within a few feet of me. If I looked down right now, I’d probably be able to see your face normally. Do you hide your face away from everyone around here?” the young woman asks curiously, gently pulling the dark fabric of the hood back, slowly revealing Salvatore’s face to the dim light of the room, even as her gaze remained locked on the wall behind them.

“N-not… e-everyone… th-there’s a f-few… who… who I sh-show my f-face to… regularly” Salvatore chokes.

Really?” Nadine asks, “like who?”

“M-my… siblings.”

“Oh, so you’re not the only one around here then? Are your siblings here in the reservoir?”

“N-no… th-they live… in o-other places… of th-their own… a-around the v-village.”

“Wow, so there is more of this place to explore, then!” Nadine states excitedly. “I’d love to get out and see more of the area for myself at some point, though I doubt that’s very wise given the amount of howling I’ve heard the past few nights and the fact I don’t know my way around this area... though, even if I did, that memory is probably long gone along with the fucking rest of them… not that I would have wanted to hold onto them anyways, I don’t think.”

Salvatore’s attention is caught by the last bit of Nadine’s statement, confusion filling him over what the younger woman could possibly mean by what she’d just said. “‘G-gone along w-with the rest o-of them?’... W-what… d-does that… what d-do you m-mean?”

Nadine remains silent for a moment as she continues to absentmindedly stroke the side of Salvatore’s head, the hooded man unable to tell what she could possibly be feeling right now without risking exposing his face to her.

Thankfully, Nadine resumes speaking before Salvatore loses patience and gets too risky. “My memory of the life I had before waking up in that damn pod is foggy at absolute best, but I don’t need my memories to know that I wasn’t very happy with my previous life and that I was actively trying to get away from it somehow. What exactly was I even running from and where was I going? Who knows, and frankly I don’t care to relearn it either. I do think it's quite funny that you were talking about me needing to go somewhere else because this place isn’t good enough for me though, because honestly, even if I could somehow get the hell out of here, it's not like I’d have anywhere else to go. Getting away from the shitty life I had before is probably how I ended up here to begin with, though if I’d known this was how things would end up I might have reconsidered throwing it all away so suddenly.”

Had it not been for Mother Miranda being there for him throughout the years, Salvatore would probably think much the same way as Nadine about the whole situation, but having Mother meant he always had a purpose and a goal to work towards, so it didn’t matter that Salvatore couldn’t return to his old life. What shocked the deformed man the most however, was the fact that Nadine appeared to not only already accept the fact that she couldn’t go back to her former life, but seemed to actively be searching for something, anything new to try and fill the void that had been left behind by the life she’d, more or less, willingly gave away to come up here.

Could… could this mean…?

“Thankfully my ability to make new memories doesn’t seem to have been fucked up at all, which I’m quite happy about since I'll be needing to make a lot to fill in the empty spaces in my brain. We met for the first time in the underground laboratory I was being kept in, though I suppose it was less ‘meeting’ and more ‘seeing’ for the first time, but… still. I don’t know why you were there, or who was with you at the time, but I remember waking up just before you were about to leave. There were a couple others who’d come, before you, to look at me and a couple others for some reason, but you were the one who stuck out the most, to me. You were… special!”

Shock and dumbfounded awe nearly choke the life right out of Salvatore. He could barely comprehend a single word the young woman was saying to him, yet he clung to every heavenly syllable she uttered like they were the foundations of the word of god itself. The pain and agony he normally felt due to his cadou mutations momentarily paused, slowly weaning from its usual constant thrum to a dull numbness that felt surprisingly euphoric in all it’s nothingness.

“S-special? Me?” Salvatore breathed, almost unable to believe the words, even as Nadine hummed in affirmation of their truth. “B-but… how…?”

The giddy chuckle Salvatore’s mundane question pulled from Nadine shook the deformed man to his very core. Her girlish laughter rattles violently around inside the deformed man’s head, playing the sweet, holy tune over and over again, like a broken record that Salvatore would happily go insane listening to for the rest of eternity if he could.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’d have assumed you knew exactly what you were doing with how sweetly you talked back there, why it's almost criminal how suavely you stroked and tugged at the strings of my delicate heart. All the others were so rude, boring, and/or annoying that I thought I might die if I ended up stuck with one of them, but then you came in and swept me right off my feet. It was like nothing else I’ve ever felt before and immediately told me that you weren’t like all the others, you were a kind man and if I ever ran into you I could tell I’d be able to trust you…” Nadine trails off for a moment. “When I learned that we were being moved out of containment and onto our “permanent homes”, I hoped and prayed that I’d be lucky enough to end up wherever you were, but I didn’t want to get too excited until I found out for certain.”

“Th-then how did y-you know… it-it was me?”

“How could I possibly not? You set yourself apart from all the others right out of the gate. I'm honestly shocked you don’t remember it yourself. But there's not a single doubt in my mind that I know exactly who you are… er- well, I suppose a more appropriate way of putting that would be “I know exactly who you are to me”, not that what other people say or think has ever really been something I’ve taken with more than a grain of salt” Nadine giggle beautifully, smiling kindly as she cradled Salvatore’s hoodless, tear soaked face against her, like he were the most precious thing she’d ever laid eyes upon and wanted to hold and protect him until the end of time.

Unable to look away any longer, Salvatore allows his head to rise from his knees until it settles upon the face of the woman currently cradling him in her arms. Her gaze remained turned away from Salvatore for a moment, though for some reason the hooded man had a feeling that it was more out of respect for him and his boundaries than a lack of desire to see his face.

What a strange thing, to be treated with more kindness, love, and respect from a complete stranger than from the majority of people you interact with.

Salvatore wanted to cry when Nadine’s golden eyes finally lowered to him, her face slowly shifting downwards until their noses were little more than an inch apart from one another, though whether his tears were from agony or ecstasy, even he couldn’t properly tell at the present moment. Only one question was on his mind and the deformed man would stop at nothing until he got an answer for it.

“W-who… who am I-I… t-to y-you?” Salvatore asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he forces himself to stare directly into the endless pool of honey yellow swirling around in her irises, wanting-no… needing to know, to see with his own two eyes, what exactly he was to this woman, and whether that answer would spell endless disaster for him and his deep seeded desires, or be the key that unlocks a world of possibilities almost as endless as the spheres of gold that Salvatore finds himself unable, or rather unwilling, to tear his gaze from, lest this be the first, and last time he ever be blessed enough to see them from this close.

A long moment of silence passes as Nadine returns Salvatores gaze, the fondness of her expression only growing as she lowers her forehead to rest against his, a soft, almost breathlessly enamored expression that he’d only seen on black and white screens cast toward men eons more pleasant to look at than he was, slowly spread across her perfect face as she finally answers Salvatore’s question.

“You’re the lovely man who held my hand!”

[doyouevenshipbr0]

gruvia drabble

author’s note: well. i said it. and here it is!!! this is based off the most recent gruvia matching covers of fairy tail 100 years quest!!!:) i felt super inclined to write this bc 1. those covers are BEAUTIFUL and 2. well... last time gruvia was at a ball it.......didnt go so well!!! (end of the gmg arc......iykyk😔) SO!! i hope i did these covers justice!:) enjoys bbies!!!!! and im tagging @sobatsu bc i was instructed to lol!!:) i hope u enjoy, love!!!:)

*

“Wow.” Lucy lulled, taking in the grand surroundings. “I forgot just how nice this palace was.”

“Yeah, it’s been a little while since we’ve been here, huh?” Natsu finally looked up from his plate as he said with a mouth full of food.

“Natsu, manners!” Erza scolded. “Queen Hisui was kind enough to invite us here for her birthday ball. Don’t embarrass Fairy Tail.”

Juvia, however, was not taking a large part in the conversation. She was more focused on a certain someone, and how she had yet to even talk to this certain someone throughout the whole night.

Once she heard that Fairy Tail would be attending Queen Hisui’s birthday ball, she was estatic. Rather than dwelling on the fact that last time she was in that very ballroom Gray essentially rejected her, she decided to look at the glass as half full. She would reinvent herself this night. She would wear a dress even more dazzling than before, she would act so elegantly even if it killed her, and she would do everything in her power to make Gray eat the words he said at the last royal ball. Juvia would show Gray that she was an even newer version of herself, and she was a woman more than deserving of his love.

However, the fact that he seemed to be avoiding her the entire night was certainly putting a damper on Juvia’s plans. She didn’t want to overcrowd him like she seemed to last time, but patiently waiting for him to approach her was killing her. She wanted to gush over the fact that he looked so handsome in his fancy suit and sweep him off his feet onto the dance floor, but unlike her usual, she was trying to keep her cool. Unfortunately, “keeping her cool” was turning into a burning irritation. She kept her eyes glued onto Gray as she mingled with Jellal across the ballroom. They were chatting and laughing with drinks in their hand, and Juvia wanted to be by his side as he did so. Instead, she watched, and subconsciously poked at her food with her fork as her other hand tapped anxiously on the table.

Naturally, Erza was the first person to notice her agitation. “Juvia? Is everything alright?” She asked.

“Eh?” Juvia finally snapped out of her daze. She stopped her fidgeting and turned towards Erza. “Juvia’s fine.” She forced a laugh.

“Is that so?” Erza raised a brow. “That must be why you’ve been staring off and playing with your food for 30 minutes without taking a single bite.”

“Urgh!” Juvia finally dropped her fork. “Why hasn’t Gray-sama talked to Juvia tonight?! At all!” She spat out.

Erza gave a low chuckle. “I could’ve guessed that’s what this was about.”

“Why don’t you just go up and talk to him, Juvia?” Lucy chimed in.

“Because,” Juvia groaned. “At the last ball, Juvia was a bit—well— abrassive, and it totally turned Gray-sama off.” She sighed. “Juvia just doesn’t want to make the same mistake twice.”

“You know, the last ball was a long time ago. A lot has changed from then. Not only you and Gray as individuals, but as a couple as well.” Erza casually explained, tucking a loose hair that fell from her bun behind her ear.

“A c-c-couple?!” Juvia’s face turned red. Sure, she and Gray had gone through a lot together since then, but their relationship was anything but definite. They were in this awkward “more than friends” stage that Juvia just couldn’t seem to fight her way out of.

“Erza’s right!” Lucy said, optimistically. “Gray cares a lot about you, so I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you went up and talked to him or asked him to dance.”

Juvia sighed, somewhat defeated. “Juvia supposes you two are right, but I really don’t want to mess anything up tonight.” She began lightly messing with her food again.

“You should do whatever you feel is right, Juvia.” Erza gave her a reassuring smile.

Juvia finally smiled back. “Thank you Erza-san, and Lucy-san, but Juvia is sure. She will lay low tonight. Whatever happens, happens.” As much as it killed her, this is what she decided to do, and deep down she would hope Gray would eventually approach her.

“Hey, Juvia,” Natsu interjected. “While you lay low, are you gonna’ eat that?” He clearly had eyes for her plate.

“Natsu!” Lucy exclaimed.

Juvia hummed a giggle. “It’s alright. You can have it, Natsu-san.”

After all, she was far too anxious to stomach anything right then.

~

While Gray was paying attention to Jellal and their conversation, he couldn’t help that little thing that was itching away at his mind. Finally, he glanced over her way across the room to see she was talking with Erza and Lucy.

His index finger tapped at the glass in his hand, unknowingly to him. He quickly shook his gaze and turned back to Jellal.

“So it’s safe to assume you’re fitting right in at Fairy Tail? You’re a new member and you’re already going to all our parties.” He said to his old friend, but new guild mate.

Jellal nodded. “Well, there’s never a dull moment, that’s for sure.” He chuckled. “I would hate to miss out.”

Gray playfully raised his eyebrow. “Is there a particular reason you’re inclined to be so involved? Maybe, I dunno’, because of a certain red-head, by chance?” He teased.

Jellal’s eyes went wide. “W-what?! Erza?! I—erm— not necessarily! Why do you say that?!”

Gray couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re as cool as a cucumber all the time, but as soon as Erza comes up in conversation, you start buggin’ out.”

“I guess I can’t help it.” Jellal sighed contently and looked over to her table. “She has that effect on me.” He grinned.

Gray admired Jellal’s realness with himself. It was a trait that Gray seemed to lack sometimes, especially when it came to the feelings department. That got him back to thinking about that thing that was poking at him all night. Or rather, that thing that wasn’t poking at him. Wasn’t bothering him, wasn’t clinging to his side, wasn’t flashing that engulfing sweet grin, wasn’t talking his ear off all night.

“H-hey,” Gray finally let his anxiety fall off his lips. “Does Juvia seem...” He realized he was failing on putting the right words together. “I dunno’,” He exhaled. “Weird... to you? At all?” He finished, agonizingly.

Jella furrowed his brows. “Weird as in...?” He wasn’t sure just what Gray was getting at.

He groaned. “I don’t know, like she’s acting kind of... differently tonight, right?”

“She looks perfectly fine to me.” By the tone in Jellal’s voice, it was clear he was trying to pull something from Gray.

“Y-yeah.” Gray swallowed his thoughts.

“Or could you be getting at the fact that she hasn’t been following you around at all tonight?” Jellal pried.

“I mean, yeah! It’s not like her to— well— leave me alone.” Gray snorted. Here he was, finally getting a second to breathe from her, and he was complaining about it.

“Does it bother you that she’s not bothering you?”

“No!” Gray immediately answered, but once he saw the look he was getting from Jellal, he knew there was no fooling him. “Ok, maybe.” He turned away.

“It’s just strange to see her not being herself.” He looked at the drink in his hand and swirled it around. “So, yes, in a weird way, it does bother me that she’s not glued to my side.”

“Well, Gray, it kind of seems like you’ve answered your own question, my friend. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go ask a beautiful girl to dance.” Jellal flashed one last smug smirk at Gray, almost as if it were a nudge, and walked strutted his way across the floor. He watched as Jellal executed his plan with that very red-head that knew just how to ruffle his feathers. Shortly following, Lucy and Natsu excitedly arose from their seats and entered the dance floor as well.

Gray knew what he had to do.

He downed the drink that sat in his hand, slammed it on the table beside him, took a deep breath, and headed towards her.

For the first time all night, Juvia wasn’t looking at Gray. She had her chin resting in the palms of her hands as her elbows leaned on the table. She looked longingly onto all the couples that were dancing the night away. It was hopeless. She had been defeated for a second time.

Flower petals fell from what was seemingly the sky, as the guards released them in bushels, setting the perfect mood for the couples romantically dancing.

“O-oi!” Juvia knew that voice all too well. She snapped her gaze at that direction.

“Gray-sama?” She nearly gasped. This was the first time she’d been so close to him all night.

“Juvia.” Gray took a deep breath. “Do you...” He held out one hand as his other instinctively scratched at the back of his head, as he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. He felt the blush burn his cheeks, so he couldn’t help but look away in the moment. “Do you want to dance with me?”

Juvia’s first reaction was her eyes widening, not believing what they were seeing. Her lips parted as she finally took in a breath after what felt like an eternity with no air.

“Yes. Juvia would love to.”

Gray finally looked back at her. and the world around him completely faded away. All he saw was her. Juvia’s long waves draped her frame perfectly, as parts in the front fell and curved onto the seams of her dress. She looked at him with a hooded gaze, one that stared into his entire being, and he was mad that he orginally didn’t have the courage to look into her deep blue trance. Pink frosted her porcelain skin perfectly, and it just so happened to match the soft petals that fell onto her so perfectly, grazing her hands that were crossed on top of each other, tightly held at the center of her chest. She was truly all he could see in that moment, and he didn’t care. All he ever wanted to see, was her. It was a sight he could look at for eternity.

Finally, the nerves seemed to dull. He gracefully took her hand, and led Juvia onto the ballroom floor. She was first to wrap her arms around his neck, and Gray matched her, a bit awkwardly at first, by placing his hands onto her back.

“Juvia thought you would never ask her to dance.” She half groaned and half chuckled.

“Yeah, well, you could’ve asked me yourself, y’know.” They continued to sway back and forth, stepping with ease.

“And risk rejection?! For the second royal ball in a row?! Juvia’s heart couldn’t take it.” She dramatically explained.

“Well it’s not like you to stand on the sidelines.” Gray scoffed.

“But it paid off didn’t it?” She hummed a giggle. “Gray-sama asked Juvia to dance.” She sang

“Yeah, but I didn’t like seeing you be all—well— not yourself.” He muttered and embarrassingly turned his head to the side.

“Eh?” Juvia pushed her face towards Gray. “Gray-sama doesn’t mind Juvia’s mannerisms?” She boasted

“Urgh, well, I like you, okay?! And part of what makes you you is how you’re so loud, and giddy, and forward, and in my face about everything.” He finally looked back towards her. “So don’t go changing anything about yourself, alright? I like you just the way you are.”

For the first time ever, Juvia was at a loss for words. Without giving a verbal reply, she removed her arms from Gray’s neck, and wrapped them around his torso while she prompty pressed her cheek against his chest.

“If Gray-sama insists.” She hummed, snuggling up.

For a moment, Gray didn’t know how to react. Before he could think of a response, he was overwhelmed with a sense of familiarity. This feeling, this sensation of Juvia being so close to him was exactly right. He loved feeling this closeness with her, not only physically, but emotionally as well. Even though he wouldn’t admit if half the time, he longed for moments like this. Her embrace brought him a sense of home like no other could. He calmly wrapped his arms around her, and brought her in even tighter than before.

Finally, while in each other’s arms, just as they knew they should be, Gray and Juvia danced into the night.

[ofxdiamonds]

[ zendaya & she/her / cisfemale ] watch out, [ diamond bellevue ] has crash-landed into roswell !! they look [ 22 years old ] and celebrate their birthday on [ december 15th ]. they are from [ new york city ], reside in [ moonbeam gardens ] and are currently working as a [ model / entrepreneur ]. one thing you should know about them is that [ she travels a lot for her work ].

trigger warnings: mention of drugs, drinking, eating disorder & mental illness

- B A S I C -

FULL NAME: Diamond Nathalia Bellevue NICKNAME(S): Dime, Di or Dia AGE: 22 OCCUPATION: Model / Entrepreneur. She is a businesswoman, through and through - starting at eighteen, she’s been buying and reselling high fashion and beauty products online, and as of recently she’s now the proud owner of SWAG Dance Studio, and is a well-known fashion-content influencer and creator on social media. BIRTHDAY: December 15th ZODIAC: Sagittarius HOGWARTS HOUSE: Slytherin

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Pansexual ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good

- F A M I L Y -

FATHER:  (Adopted) Winston Bellevue MOTHER: (Adopted) Betty Bellevue SIBLINGS: (Adopted) Four older siblings (between the ages of 26 - 40) CHILDREN: 13-month old son, Andre

PETS:    - A Doberman puppy - Cicero

- A P P E A R A N C E -

HEIGHT: 5′10′’ WEIGHT: 120 lbs HAIR COLOR / TYPE:  Dark brown / Naturally curly. She sometimes straightens it EYE COLOR: Dark Hazel

- P E R S O N A L I T Y -

(+) Independent, Gregarious, Clever, Ambitious, Resourceful (-) Unrestrained, Wild, Impulsive, Reckless, Sarcastic

She is definitely ambitious and inarguably intelligent, and can find solutions to pretty much any problem she comes across. Yet at the same time, she can also be quite reckless and selfish, and is still very much a child in a lot of ways...which is kind of concerning for her family and loved ones, since she has a kid of her own to take care of.

She parties, drinks and does drugs often, yet still she somehow manages to be responsible enough in her day to day life, taking her work and the care of her son very seriously. Despite her reckless and unrestrained nature, Dime loves Dante dearly and wants only the best for him.

- L I K E S -

Spending time with her son, and their dog, Cicero

Dancing

Exploring different hobbies

Working Out / Going to the gym / Going on hikes and runs

Partying & Drinking

Doing Drugs

Engaging in Flings

Shopping

Photography

- B I O G R A P H Y -

Originally from New York City.

Was born to a teenaged drug addict, and was put up for adoption the second she was born, only to be adopted a few short months later by Winston and Betty Bellevue, an older English couple in their late forties from the Upper East Side of Manhattan who had lived in London with four older children, up until a few years ago when they decided to relocate to New York.

Her father was one of the top cosmetic surgeons in the state of New York, while her mother was a leading patent attorney.

She had a great relationship with her parents, and though her siblings were significantly older than she was, she was still quite close to each and every one of them as well...despite some strong and even sometimes clashing personalities and views. They tended to be overly judgmental at times, particularly with Diamond, given that she was the baby of the family and due to her impulsive life choices. It often annoyed the hell out of her.

She was born with NAS, thanks to her birth mother, and later on when she was just a few years old, she was diagnosed with Bipolar, ARFID and a mild case of OCD.

Dime has always had an aversion to food, starting from infancy and that worried her parents greatly, because she pretty much refused most forms of food. She was diagnosed with ARFID in her youth, but it’s since turned into a full on eating disorder. She hardly eats anything, even when she feels hungry, but when she does, it’s only ever the bare minimum. Her appetite is just non-existent, and she wholeheartedly blamed her medication for a lot of it (though that’s just the excuse she uses to dismiss any concerns).

Despite her weak mental and physical health, though, Diamond led a pretty normal and happy life in Manhattan, with her family.

She was a major hobbyist, even as a child, and so she was always bouncing from one activity to another, easily bored with thing once she’d mastered it and always wanting to try new and exciting things. Dancing, vocal lessons, piano and violin lessons, painting, scrapbooking, journaling, photography, needlework...you name it, she’s very likely dabbled in it.

Dancing, painting and an interest in photography were things she still maintained an interest in. At the age of five, her parents put her in her first dance class and she fell in love with it. She learned ballet first, but quickly grew to love contemporary hip-hop, and to this day, she still danced and could have potentially went professional if the love for modeling hadn’t taken over her life.

She was first introduced to modeling at the age of nine, when she was scouted while in the mall with her mother, and after getting her parents’ consent, Dime was allowed to be signed to the agency and soon she began work as a child model. She absolutely loved it.

Of course, being a child model couldn’t last forever and once she reached 18, she discovered that it was harder and harder to find modeling work, and that the industry was one tough son of a bitch.

More than a little discouraged but not ready to give up on her dream altogether, Diamond decided to attend NYU Stern’s Fashion & Luxury MBA program while also continuing to book whatever work she could get within the city. During this time, in between her classes and the drugs and parties she began to indulge in, she started her first ever business, which was buying and reselling fashion and beauty products online. She’s still doing that to this day.

While in her second year at school, she met an older gentleman by the name of Jared, who worked as a bartender at one of the local clubs that she often went to with her friends. Although never officially calling what they had a ‘relationship’, that didn’t stop them from sleeping with one another quite frequently. It was a casual thing, and it didn’t mean much to her - she just liked the sex and the free drugs and booze he’d often provided her with.

At the age of 19, Diamond discovered that she was pregnant. When she told Jared about the pregnancy, she completely rejected the idea that he was the father, which did not come as much of a shock to her. He’d always been a douchebag, and she kind of expected it. Even so, she was still hurt by it, but refused to show it.

Pretending that she hadn’t been hurt by the rejection and being called a liar, Dime simply shrugged and moved on - after all, it wasn’t like she loved Jared or wanted anything from him in the long run. In fact, she very likely wouldn’t have even bothered to tell him about the baby at all, if it weren’t for her family encouraging her that it was the right thing to do.

Throughout her pregnancy and even after the birth of her son, Andre, Diamond continued going to school, determined to get her degrees. Having a baby young - though not something she had expected - didn’t at all deter her ambitions; in fact, it only drove her to work harder and smarter, wanting to secure some sort of financial success and security in order to raise her son and give him a good life. Much like the one she’d had with her own parents.

She was proud of the fact that her online business was doing exceptionally well with how profitable it really was, and that she no longer had to rely on her parents to fund her; she was now financially independent and that felt beyond amazing.

She also became a successful online influencer, doing modeling, makeup and fashion-related content on Instagram, Youtube and TikTok. 

With no luck of getting the kind of modeling work she really wanted in the Big Apple, the dream to become a full time fashion model slowly died over time. Quite saddened upon coming to the realization that it just wasn’t in the cards for her, the young single mother turned her focus on her next big dream: becoming an entrepreneur. Already with one successful business under her belt, Diamond knew it was the right choice in the end.

Once she was finished with her schooling, where she earned degrees in Fashion Business and Marketing, Diamond decided to move from New York to Roswell, New Mexico, to stay with her oldest brother, who’d moved there a few years prior, until she and Andre were comfortably settled and she could find a place on her own.

With her own hard earned money, she was able to buy a building in downtown Roswell and spent a few months renovating it, before only just recently opening her own dance studio, called SWAG Dance Studio.

Despite only just getting her studio up and running, Diamond already had plans for several more future business endeavors that she would likely implement in the coming few years, ever the ambitious young woman that she was.

Still, Diamond never stopped modeling whenever the opportunity of a good job came her way. She traveled constantly - nationally and internationally - and so, had a nanny for Andre and when they weren’t available, her brother would watch him.

- W A N T E D   C O N N E C T I O N S -

Oldest Adopted Brother - Diamond and her son Andre are currently staying at his home in Moonbeam Gardens. Suggested FC: Tom Hiddleston | Age: 37-40

Other (Older) Siblings (who are also adopted) - There are three other siblings, all older than Diamond but younger than her eldest brother. All of them are adopted, so ethnicity isn’t an issue. Suggested FCs: Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Zoe Kravitz, Gemma Chan, Emilia Clarke, Luke Pasqualino - but I’m more than open to other suggestions! (They’d all be between the ages of 26 - 36).

Best Friend(s)

Casual Friend(s)

People she can get high with (i.e., party friends, bad influences, etc.)

Drinking Buddies - people she can rely on to always be up for going out bar hopping or clubbing with. Kind of ties in with the bad influences and party friends.

Dancing or Workout Buddies - She loves to go dancing (she’s a trained dancer) and working out, either at the gym or going on hikes and long walks, so it would be fun to have someone she can go with.

Rivals / Enemies / Frenemies

Neighbors of Moonbeam Gardens

Babysitter / Nanny / Daycare - for Andre

Love Interests and / or Flings & One-Nighters - She’s got a thing for older men, so it would be fun to explore that a bit, in either a serious or casual fashion.

[krystalkoya]

Tango | 01

Summary: Fed up hanging by the sidelines when you and your friends go out clubbing, you enroll in a dance class to give you the much needed confidence to join your friends out on the dance floor. What you don’t expect is to go from tripping over your feet to falling head over heels for your dance instructor.

Or, the one where you start learning more about your dance instructor than the art of dance itself.

REPOST: this fic underwent minor changes, nothing plot-wise but some minor edits to grammar and/or characters to make it up to par to my standards 

read on ao3

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: fluff, slight angst, smut, 

rating: +18

word count: 24k

chapter warnings: 18+ semi-public sex, oral sex, fingering, hand jobs, dirty talk

01| 02

_____

“For the last time Chae, I said no. I’m tired of being the only one sitting by the bar while the rest of you throw ass on the dance floor!“

You immediately cringed as you registered the sheer volume of your voice in the quiet frozen food aisle of the grocery store.

Shooting the glaring mother beside you an apologetic look, you lowered your voice and tried again.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just… everytime we go out I end up sitting by the bar on my phone or chatting it up with the bartender. It’s not like I don’t enjoy our conversations, some of them are quite insightful, but… I think it’s time for a change.”

Of all the times you have gone out clubbing with your friends, you were always the ‘responsible one’. You weren’t forced to take on this role. And it wasn’t like you didn’t have any fun while you were there. You enjoyed bar hopping and trying all sorts of questionable liquor, but when it came time to actually dance? No thanks. You’d rather just stick to your silly phone games. With a resigned sigh, your best friend of five years said, “___, no one is forcing you to sit by the bar the entire night. Here’s a thought: if you want to have fun why don’t you come dance with us?”

Picking up a tub of ice cream from the shelf, you examined the calorie content while you mulled over your friend’s words. The cold dessert definitely wasn’t allowed on your healthy eating kick, but not caring you tossed the tub into your cart and readjusted the phone in your hands.

“Chaeyoung, you know why.” You heard the frustrated click of her tongue before you even finished your sentence.

“Is this because you said you can’t dance? Please, not this shit again. You don’t have to be an expert! Like, have you actually seen anyone dance at the club?!? Everyone’s drunk and uncoordinated anyway so it doesn’t matter!”

“That’s not the point. Let’s just forget about this okay? I don’t even like the club anyway. All these sweaty strangers rubbing up against each other? I’ll pass, thanks.”

“Nope, you’re not weaseling your way out of this one. Come onnnn, it’s our tradition for god’s sake! If I’m being honest, I don’t even really like the club, but we’re in our twenties and society has convinced us that these are the golden years of our lives and we need to spend it getting drunk, stoned, and dicked down by random guys each week. It’s the principle of the thing.”

“First of all, we barely do any of those things you just mentioned, at least I don’t. I don’t know what you get up to in your free time but leave me out of it. Like I said, my mind’s made up and I’m not going back. End of discussion.”

You hear silence on the other line and for a moment you really think she has given up. But this is your best friend we’re talking about here, you should know better by now.

“Not even if I agree to teach you a few steps?” comes her pleading response. If you were there with her right now, you had no doubt she would be pulling her signature pouty-lipped face that always seemed to make you give in to her demands. Good thing you weren’t there.

“Really? Your going to teach me how to dance? Remember how that turned out the last time? In case you don’t, let me remind you. Bad. Like, very, very bad.”

There was a pause, as if she were jogging her memory of the time she tried to teach you how to ‘walk it out’ at her sister’s wedding years ago. “You’re absolutely right. How did I forget that mess.” You can almost hear her shudder on the other line. “That almost tore our friendship apart. Fine, you win.” Crossing off frozen fruit off from your list, you started walking towards the produce aisle of the grocery store.

“Exactly. Let’s just move on. I’m not going clubbing anymore and that’s that. Plus I wasn’t exactly meeting any guys there anyway.”

Chaeyoung let out a laugh, to which, you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why, but you were offended nonetheless. When she spoke again she revealed to you what she thought was so funny. “___, you do realize you don’t actually date the guys you meet at the club right? Those guys are only good for a fuck. Haven’t you ever heard of a one-night stand? And if they’re really good, then maybe even two fucks.”

“W H O R E.” is your only reply.

“First of all, fuck you. Second of all, it’s the 21st century and I am a sexually liberated woman who is free to do what she pleases with her body, with multiple men if she wants too. Third of all, you really need to get some dick, maybe then you wouldn’t be such an uppity bitch all the time. But guess what? That’s not gonna happen if your ass is glued to a stool instead of some dude’s crotch the entire night.”

“Hey listen, can you hear that? It’s the sound of me, rolling my eyes at you for the thousandth time tonight.”

She paid you no heed, ignoring your comment in favor of continuing on with her tirade.

“Listen, if you really want to learn how to dance I know someplace you could go to get lessons. I met this guy at the club who teaches contemporary dance but the studio offers all sorts of genres. You interested?”

As you checked off the last thing on your grocery list, phone pressed against your ear, you came to a stop and mulled over her words. Dance lessons? It never occurred to you that you could sign up for lessons, you had simply resigned yourself to the sad fact that you could not and would not ever have rhythm. At this point, you were tired and ready to end this conversation but you knew that wouldn’t happen if Chaeyoung didn’t get her way. So with a sigh, you reluctantly agreed.

“Sure, why not.”

“I’m sorry? Something other than immediate rejection? I- wasn’t expecting that. Okay, great, I’ll send you the details before you change your mind. I got to go now babe, my boss has been on my ass about these quarterly reports and I can’t stand to hear him go off on us about ‘the importance of meeting our deadlines’ again. But I’m so proud of you for doing this, we’ll have you throwing that ass back in no time! Love you!“

You could almost hear her grin through the phone but before you could even say goodbye she had already hung up on you. You chuckled, resting your hands on your shopping cart as you stared down at your phone. Chae could be – a lot. But she was your lot to handle. She was a reliable friend and you wouldn’t have made it through these last few years of college without her. However, as you went over the last few minutes of your phone call you couldn’t help but feel somewhat anxious.

Did I really just agree to taking dance lessons of all things?Fuck. If there was anything you could pray for more in that moment it was that you didn’t make an utter fool of yourself when the time came for you to actually dance. But before you could ponder your dilemma any further, several harsh taps on your shoulder stole your attention away from the device in your palms and up at your surroundings. You swiveled your head around looking for the source of the incessant jabs when your eyes landed on silky locks of vibrant red hair.

Oh boy. Oh boy, because the man attached to the mane of crimson hair might possibly be the most attractive person you have had the pleasure of viewing in a while.

He was strikingly handsome, a kind of natural beauty that was seemingly effortless (something you appreciated but had always envied). Bright red hair meshed well with smooth tanned skin, and a lithe form clad in casual jeans and a baggy t-shirt that somehow looked way better on him than it would on you. How was it possible someone looked so good doing a task as mundane as grocery shopping? Realizing that your eyes may have wandered for too long, you drew your eyes away from his form and back to his face.

You instantly regretted it when you saw the look of pure annoyance marring his handsome features.

Oh.

Obviously handsome boy was mad at you. Why, you had no idea. So taking it upon yourself to find out, you cleared your throat, and asked in clearest voice you could muster, "May I help you?”

He kissed his teeth, chuckling lowly, but something about the venom in his voice told you he didn’t find anything funny. “May I help you… Yes, you can actually. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re blocking the tomatoes.”

Annndd there it is. He just had to ruin it by opening his mouth didn’t he?

You looked around. You had, in fact been blocking anyone’s access to the tomatoes that were sitting in a crate next to the other vegetables in the produce aisle. An honest mistake, so what was his deal?

“Well, I’m sorry but you could’ve said something along the lines of… oh I don’t know, 'Excuse me,’…? There’s this thing called being polite, you know.”

You may have been struck silent by his looks at first but there was no way you were going to let some entitled prick walk all over you. Running a hand through his hair, he shifted his weight to his other foot and shot you a piercing glare before saying through teeth clenched tight, “Look I don’t have the time for this so could you kindly do me a favor and move to your left a little so I can just pick these up and go?”

Excuse me? Just who did he think he was? You take a moment to breathe because despite your anger, you will not get yourself thrown out of this grocery store for assault. You oblige him, taking a step back as you say, “Fine, there I moved. But do yourself a favor and learn some manners. You’re lucky I’m not in the mood for this shit tonight.”

“Uh-huh.” He muttered, not even sparing a glance at you as he inspected the tomatoes for selection.

Scoffing at his remark, your jaw hung open shocked by the sheer audacity of the man before you. You gave yourself a few more seconds to calm down before you closed your mouth and abruptly spun on your heels. You did not have the time nor the energy to argue with some dick in the grocery store so late at night. Swiveling around, you hurriedly stormed off to checkout, looking forward to going home and getting some sleep before class the next day. .

.

.

Three days later you were stumbling into your apartment, kicking your heels off into some random corner of the room to inevitably trip over later.

You dropped your purse at your feet as you collapsed into the soft cushions of your sofa, mentally and physically exhausted from the stress of the long week you just had. The unnecessary pressure from your boss to meet the deadlines eons away had built up so you were grateful that you had the weekend to recharge. At the moment, all you wanted to do was take a nice hot shower and curl up into your soft cotton sheets. Perhaps you would catch up on a couple episodes of your favorite TV show before bed as well.

Unfortunately, just as you settled into your couch, your phone decided to start buzzing. It took you awhile to locate the device from within the depths of your bag, but once you found it you weren’t surprised to see your best friend’s name displayed across the screen.

“Hello?” you grumbled into the phone.

“Sooo… how do you like the studio?”

Confusion marring your features, you questioned her. “What studio? What are you talking about?”

“Oh bitch. Bitchhh.Do not tell me you forgot. You do remember that I signed you up for dance lessons for Friday? Please tell me you remembered.”

You didn’t remember. But in your defense, what was she thinking signing you up for a class that met on Fridays of all days?

“____, I swear to god you better get your ass to that studio or I will drag you there myself. I don’t want to deal with you whining to me about your shitty dancing anymore, so move it. You still have half an hour before the class starts.”

“Okay, okay. I’m going, I’m going. Sheesh woman,” you said already making your way to your bedroom.

“Good. Tell me how it goes when your done! And don’t forget to have fun!” her voice almost too saccharinely sweet.

It amazes you how this woman can switch between an angel and the devil’s spawn in a matter of seconds.

As soon as you said your goodbyes you rummaged through your drawers for some comfortable your workout clothes. Stopping by the fridge for a water bottle, you headed toward your car, mentally preparing yourself for an hour of hell.

If you were going to suffer, might as well be hydrated.

And hell it was.

Because although you managed to make it to the class with 10 minutes to spare, you immediately regretted coming when your instructor for the evening walked in. That same prick from the grocery store entered the classroom, a bright smile on his face as he welcomed his students. You would of thought this man was a completely different person if it weren’t for the bright red hair that sat atop his head.

You tried everything in your power to avoid eye contact but it was too late. It was almost as if time has slowed down as you saw the expression on his face morph into shock the moment you two locked eyes. The brief moment between you two passed almost as fast as it came, though because in the next instant he was plastering a wide smile back on his face and moving to the front of the room to address the class.

You don’t remember much of his greeting. You managed to pick up that his name was Jung Hoseok. And he said something along the lines of “dancing is a form of self-expression” and “don’t be afraid if you can’t get the moves right away… have fun…“ But for the most part you had zoned out, contemplating the catastrophe that was your life. Fuck me.

It was just your luck that you managed to get him as your dance instructor. If it weren’t for the fact that you had already paid you would have left already.

Unfortunately, you were just going to have to try avoiding the man for the next hour or so. After that you were never stepping foot in this studio ever again.

Avoiding Hoseok wasn’t all that hard considering the fact that once he started, his sole attention was dedicated to concentrating on teaching the choreography. That and you had the sneaking suspicion that he was trying just as hard to avoid all eye contact with you as you were with him.

While the music played he stood at the front of the class, teaching you all a simple choreography that went along with a high-tempo hip hop beat.

Although you took a place at the back of the class, it didn’t completely eliminate your anxiety of dancing in front of complete strangers. It was irrational to think that anyone would pay you any attention when everyone’s focus was likely to be on trying to get their own moves right. The class was diverse, with people younger, older and around your age there but it seemed as if everyone else was doing so much better than you as you struggled to keep up with the steps.

It was just your luck (which was minimal these days) that at that moment, Hoseok called for a break. Thank god.

You propped your hands up on your hips, closing your eyes and rolling your head back to stretch out the muscles in your neck. Unfortunately, your moment of relaxation was interrupted because when you looked back up you were shocked to see Hoseok walking… right towards you? That couldn’t be right.

Despite ignoring your presence for the whole first half of the class, he seemed to be charging straight towards you. But just before he could reach you, a few members of the class ahead of you had intercepted him in his travels. Phew.

Dodged a bullet there. You’re not sure what he was going to say to you, but you’re completely sure you didn’t want to hear it. Taking that time to escape, you took a seat near the back of the room and pulled out your phone to text Chaeyoung.

You: It was a big mistake coming here. [7:47]

Chae: Why, What’s wrong? [7:48]

You: Remember that dick I told you about?

You: The one from the grocery store? [7:48]

Chae: Yeah… [7:50]

Chae: Oh no, don’t tell me he’s there??

You: Oh he’s here alright.

You: He’s the goddamn dance teacher for christ’s sake. I mean, what are the odds, right?!? [7:50]

You chanced a small glance over your shoulder and heaved a sigh of relief when you saw Hoseok was still engaged in small talk with some chatty women. And judging by the way their hands lingered on his arm and the exaggerated laughs in response to his jokes, it was fair to say they weren’t just interested in the art of dance, but instead the art of the dance teacher. Don’t be fooled ladies, bad things sometimes come in good packages. You learned that the hard way.

Looking back at your phone you read the recent message from Chaeyoung.

Chae: Wow, what a coincidence

Chae: But he can’t be that bad right? [7:53]

You: Not that bad? Were you listening when I told you the story the other day? [7:53]

Chae: I was but i really think ur just being overdramatic, like always. I mean, the guy just wanted his radishes and u were in the way [7:56]

You: Tomatoes, Chae. He wanted tomatoes.

You: And 'like always’..?!? Are you my friend or his??! [7:57]

Chae: Whatever. Istg you’re so stubborn sometimes

Chae: Just give him a chance. He must be good at his job and you need all the help you can get. ;) [7:58]

You leave her on read as Hoseok calls the class back to his attention. Overdramatic my ass, you think as you get back in line. Only half an hour more of this and then I’m through. That’s it. They couldn’t convince you to come back here even if they paid you.

By some miracle you manage to make it through the rest of the class.

Luckily Hoseok had chosen songs with slower rhythms as opposed to the upbeat choreography he was teaching in the beginning half of class.

Hoseok thanked the participants for attending, and if you weren’t in such a rush to get out of there you would have appreciated his sincere closing remarks. Alas, that wasn’t the case and no sooner than Hoseok stopped talking were you sprinting to the back wall to gather your belongings.

Gathering up your water bottle, your phone and purse, not even bothering to shove the items into your bag, you turned on your heel and made a mad dash for the exit, hoping to avoid Hoseok’s gaze as you escaped with the crowd. But fate seemed to have a different plan for you, as it always did, because no sooner had you turned around were you barreling straight into a firm chest. One glance up led you to determine that it was Hoseok’s chest to be exact.

Luck really said fuck you and took her leave didn’t she.

Taking a step back you steeled yourself and channeled all the energy you had left into a glare you hoped conveyed that you really weren’t in the mood for his bullshit today.

"Yes?” You glowered up at him.

He chuckled softly. Chuckled. You really didn’t find anything funny about this situation. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Pretty fucking awkward to say the least.

“This some type of revenge scheme of yours? Watching my every move so you can best plot when to strike? I didn’t realize I pissed off a stalker the other night. I should really be careful about who I make angry in the future.” He says, smirk apparent in his tone.

“No, actually. Believe it or not, I’ve got better things to do than go around stalking assholes like you.”

“And that includes taking my dance classes…?”

This cocky bastard. Scoffing, you square your shoulders and push past him heading right for the exit.

Unfortunately for you, your second attempt at escape was foiled yet again by Hoseok, a hand on your wrist preventing you from leaving.

"Hey… wait, I was just joking. Listen, I’m sorry if I was rude the other night. I think it’s great that your taking my class though. Did you have fun?”

You snort, shucking his hand off your wrist and saying, “You’re only saying that because I’m paying you. Can’t be mean to paying customers, now can we?”

“That’s part of it, yeah,” He says, the corner of his mouth tilting up at the side but at the roll of your eyes he backtracks.

“Kidding! Kidding.” He panics, hands up to placate you. “But seriously, I’m sorry for the way I acted the other night. It wasn’t me. I was going through some shit and I… look it doesn’t matter. I had no right to be rude to you over some fucking vegetables. So will you please accept my apology so we can start fresh?”

At this point you were tired, sweaty and all you wanted to do was go home, take a nice hot shower and curl up in your soft linen sheets. Plus, his apology seemed genuine. And you didn’t want to admit it but perhaps Chaeyoung was right when she said you could be a tad over-dramatic at times.

So, with a huff of your breath, you went the drama free route for once and accepted his apology.

“Okay. But consider this your last chance so don’t fuck it up.”

“Trust me, I won’t. You won’t ever see me acting like that again. I had a bad day and I took it out on you which was in no way acceptable. How about we turn over a new leaf? Sound good?” At your nod of affirmation, he presses on, “So how did you like the class?”

You took a moment before you answered. Should you tell him the truth? That you absolutely hated it? That you had already decided you were not coming back? Or should you lie and say you loved it, only for him to be surprised when you didn’t show up the next week, or the following week, or the week after that…

“It was good. You’re a great teacher. It’s just… I don’t know. Dancing just isn’t for me.” You decided to go with the truth but you wanted to make sure he knew it had nothing to do with his teaching.

“Isn’t that why you took this class? To get better?” he asked with a confused crinkle of his brow and a tilt to his head.

He had a good point. “Yeah, but… I don’t know. I guess it’s just my own insecurities holding me back. I feel like a fool in a room full of swans.”

“Swans?” He snorts. “Were you in the same room as me for this last hour? The woman in the front row would’ve taken my eye out at one point if I hadn’t dodged her leg in time. Trust me, you’re all equally terrible.”

By this point you two are the only ones in the room but surprisingly it’s not as uncomfortable as you’d imagine it to be.

You’re not sure how to respond so you say dumbly,

“Uh…thanks??”

“You’re very welcome.” He says with a smile and a pat to your shoulder.

You shake your head in disbelief of the man. “You’re a dick, you know that?”

He scoffs, placing his hand over his heart in mock outrage. “Ouch, you wound me. Come on, you don’t really think so low of me do you?”

“I’ll tell you what, considering when I first met you, no. You were a huge fucking dick then, but now??” You place a finger on your chin as if considering his rank to you now.

“You’ve been demoted to just an average dick. Four or five inches maybe?” You tease.

“I don’t know whether I should be offended or not but I’m gonna choose not for fear of starting another argument. But listen,” he says tone turning serious, “you weren’t that bad from what I could see of you. You weren’t good, but certainly not terrible. You managed to keep up with a lot of the steps.”

“How would you know? You didn’t even look in my direction the whole hour!”

“Not true. I did glance at you a couple times. But you had a scowl on your face the entire time so I knew you were still pissed at me from that other night. Your energy… it was killing my vibe.”

“And you wonder why I still consider you slightly dick-ish.”

A roll of his eyes was his only response, choosing instead to elaborate on his earlier comment. “Look, if you’re really that uncomfortable being in a group setting you can always sign up for private lessons.”

“Private lessons? With you?” “Yes, with me.” He said with yet another eye roll, but he was smiling so you could tell he wasn’t really annoyed.

Private lessons did sound nice. Dancing in front of one stranger was always better than dancing in front of a whole group of strangers. But that would mean you would be alone, with Hoseok. Although you hated to admit it, dude was attractive and he turned out to have a better personality than you’d initially thought. Yeah, the coward in you said you were going to have to pass on this.

“It’s gonna be a no for me, thanks for the offer, but I’m good, really.”

He raises his eyebrows in surprise but all he says is “Okay, that’s fine. Just do what works for you.”

“Thanks, I will,” you say tersely, hiking your bag up on your shoulder. The comfortable mood from earlier seems to have dissipated just as soon as it settled, and you take that as your cue to leave.

“I’m gonna head out now.”

“Right, it is getting late.” He says with a polite wave.

But he seems to have forgotten something because when you turn the knob on the door you hear a sudden “Oh!” from behind you. You turn to look at him.

“I didn’t get your name. I introduced myself at the start of class but I’ll do it again in case you were too busy plotting my death to notice. I’m Hoseok.” He extends his hand for a shake, expression expectant, probably waiting on you to introduce yourself as well.

You did remember his introduction at the beginning of class and you thought it was only fair that you tell him your name given the fact that you no longer wanted him to burn in the pits of hellyou guys were on good terms now.

“___. And sorry, I didn’t realize my glare was that obvious. I’ll try to be less subtle next time.”

“___. Nice to meet you under better circumstances. Hopefully there won’t be a next time, for my sake at least. So, I’ll see you next Friday then?”

“Yeah… see you.” It was a lie. You knew damn well that this would be the last time you stepped foot in this studio. Screw Chaeyoung and the hell you would receive from her for quitting.

With a final goodbye he sent you off with a blinding smile and a wave of his hand.

Turning swiftly on your heel, you threw him one last tight smile over your shoulder before you exited the studio, grateful that this night was finally over. .

.

.

“I’m sorry, come again?”

“Jesus woman, lower your voice! I have neighbors!” Typical. And she calls you overdramatic.

“Fuck the neighbors. Let me get this straight.” She says. "Hot guy wants to spend time with you and you turn him down because of… what exactly?“

"First of all, he doesn’t want to spend time with me. I’d be paying him for private lessons. That’s all.” you explain.

“Potato, potahtoe. Why would you pass up the opportunity to get some one-on-one lessons from a hot instructor?”

You currently sat across from Chaeyoung, the two of you curled up on your couch together. You were supposed to be on a bad 90s movie marathon until the topic of your first (and last) dance class came up.

“Because,” you began, “Just because he’s hot doesn’t mean he’s not a grade-A douchebag.”

The look she sent you for that last comment immediately translated to 'cut the bullshit’. She knew you were lying. Curse you for being so accustomed to telling her everything. You told her all the details from the fated night at dance class over the phone the next day, but in hindsight you could have saved the part where Hoseok turned out to be somewhat of a decent guy to yourself.

“Hon, you know you need these lessons. And if you’re too afraid to dance in front of a group why not just get the private lessons? Plus, you need to get out of the house more. You’re always either studying or at work these days. A hobby will hopefully distract you and get rid of some of that stress. And you know what else gets rid of stress? Fu-”

“Quiet woman! I need to think.”

Despite that last comment, she was right. Chaeyoung being right was becoming a recurring theme in your life and you didn’t like it. But it was a rare occasion that you had any time for yourself, let alone anyone else these days. Although it was your last semester your professors had been unrelenting, you seemed to be getting double the work as in previous years. In addition, your nearly inflexible work schedule and crappy boss hadn’t made things any better.

Shoulder slumped, you admitted defeat.

Shock replaced her features. “I’m sorry what?”

“I said you’re right okay? God, why is it so hard to admit that to you?”

Chae let out an excited giggle, hand coming up to cover her mouth. “I’m sorry it’s just, that’s the second time this week that you didn’t argue back with me. Allow me to enjoy this will you? Anyways, does this mean you’ll suck it up and go back?”

You slowly nodded your head, muttering a 'yes’ under your breath. You figured the lessons would allow you to learn how to do something you’ve always wanted to do while providing you with a good way to relieve all of your pent up stress.

She leaned forward to give you a brief hug before leaning back to say, “Hey, I’m proud of you. We’ll sign you up for the private lessons later. Let’s move onto more important topics. So what does this guy look like anyways? Let’s see if he’s as attractive as you say he is.”

“It’s not like I have a picture of him saved anywhere. I didn’t get his number or his social media.”

Sighing, she whips out her phone, not even looking at you when she asks, “What’s his name?”

“Huh? Jung Hoseok, but I don’t see how that will help. It’s not like you can–”

“Found him!” And she’s moving closer to you to show you her phone.

“You said he has red hair right? This him?”

You take a look at her phone, the Instagram page of the one and only Jung Hoseok displayed on the screen.

His instagram is filled with pictures and videos of him at the studio leading dance practices or performing some kind of choreography. Then there are the typical pictures you would expect of any instagram user. Selfies of him out with friends, food, the scenery. He must have died his hair regularly- in some pictures he had the red hair he had currently, in others it was brown, and even blonde at one point.

“Damn. This is him? Hold on.. maybe I should sign up for lessons too.”

“Please,” you scoff and hit her arm. “I’m concerned enough about your vagina already. Please don’t add more guys to the mix, especially not my dance teacher.”

“Relax I was joking. Mostly. And don’t be concerned about me, my vagina’s doing just fine. You should be concerned about your own dried up puss. How long has it been since she’s gotten a good plowing?”

You shake your head at her, redirecting your attention to the TV.

“I don’t know why I’m friends with you.”

Chae flings her arms around you. “Because you love me and no matter what you say, I’m still your favorite person in the world.”

You smile, humming in acknowledgement. “I guess,” you say, defeated. “Now shut up and let me watch my bad movies in peace.” .

.

.

The following week you find yourself back in the same dance studio.

Before she left your house that night, Chaeyoung made sure that she witnessed you make an appointment for the next available private lesson with Hoseok. This is how you wound up here at the dance studio at 7pm on a Tuesday night.

You take a seat on the floor of your designated room for the night, as you still have about ten minutes until your lesson starts.

Hoseok isn’t here yet and you pray to god he doesn’t show up so you can just go home.

Pulling out your phone, you open up your music playlist. After the first group dance class, you had went home and downloaded the songs Hoseok had used. You figured that even if you weren’t going back to the class, at least you got a few new songs to listen to. Hoseok actually had a pretty good taste in music, which you guess wasn’t surprising considering his job as a dance instructor.

You lazily scrolled through your playlist, stopping when you came across one of the songs you recently added. It was one of the slower-tempo songs that Hoseok had used in his last class. You could still remember some of the choreography clearly, simply because of how badly you butchered the steps. Feeling brave, with no audience to witness your wild flailing limbs and uncoordinated movements, you turned up the volume on your phone and stood up from your position on the floor.

Doing your best to execute the choreography that Hoseok had taught you all from your very first class, you went into the first movement.

Just then the door to the studio burst open and you nearly jumped out of your skin from how hard it had startled you. Placing a hand on your chest as if it would somehow calm the rapid beating of your heart, you whirled around facing the source of the loud intrusion.

It was Hoseok, standing in the doorway with his duffel bag on his shoulder and a slight smirk making its way onto his face. You rushed over to your phone on the floor, picking it up and turning off the music that was still blaring in the otherwise quiet room. However, your frantic actions must have prompted Hoseok to speak.

“Got started without me, did you? It’s okay, don’t stop on my account. Just act like I’m not even here.”

As you disconnected your phone from the speaker, you shot him a quick glare before locking your phone and placing it on top of your bag by the wall of the studio.

“Let’s just get this hour over with. And please, try to keep your smart comments to yourself.”

“And the ice queen returns. What happened to our heart to heart the other night? Did you forget already?,” he said with a grin so wide you wanted to box it right off his face.

"No it’s just that I’m only allowed to be nice for very brief moments in time or else I’ll spontaneously combust. So are you just gonna stand there and look dumb or are you gonna teach me something? I’m not paying you for nothing.”

“Right you are. Lemme just get set up and we can begin, mmkay?”

Once he sets his duffle bag down and connects his phone to the speakers in the room he turns to you.

“Why don’t we start with the same song you were just practicing to.” He says scrolling through the phone in his hand.

He presses play and the song starts playing through the speakers like it was a moment ago. He stares at you expectantly.

“What?”

“Well, show me what you were doing before I came in.” You don’t know what you were expecting because in all honesty this was what a one on one dance lesson entailed. It was inevitable that you would actually have to dance in front of him in order for him to help you. But still, you were nothing if not stubborn.

“Can’t you just teach me some steps and I’ll try to keep up? Like in your group sessions?”

“___, the benefit of having private lessons is that I can focus on you. I need to get a baseline to see where you are before I give you anything too hard.”

You’re silent for a moment. It was better to rip off this band-aid sooner rather than later. Embarrass yourself in front of him now and get rid of this awkwardness that still remained between you two. Making up your mind, you tell him to restart the song.

You get in the starting position while Hoseok moves back in the room to give you more space. As the music starts again you repeat the steps you went through earlier, trying your hardest not to mess up.

The whole time you run through the choreography you feel completely uncomfortable, feeling Hoseok’s stare on your form from behind. About a minute in, just when you start to forget the next couple steps, he cuts the music.

You turn around to see him setting his phone down once again. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments, just leisurely takes a few sips of his water before turning to you. You have half a mind he’s doing this on purpose just to see you squirm.

“Well, not gonna lie that was bad.”

“I’m leaving.” you say already moving towards the door.

“Wait, wait let me finish. It was bad, yes, but it wasn’t terrible.”

“Gee, thanks.” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“I’m being serious. Trust me I’ve seen far, far worse. You have a general sense of rhythm but you don’t always know where to direct it at times. Your movements aren’t fluid. Too jerky in some areas, smooth in others. You need to loosen up. You’re too stiff. Just relax and feel the music.” He presses play again and this time demonstrates the first couple steps before motioning for you to try again.

You are reluctant to do so but comply anyway because it is what Chaeyoung would want. She’s not here right now, but you have no doubt she’ll know you didn’t give it your all the next time you see her.

And you fear the consequences of that interaction more than your current predicament. Note to self: rethink this entire friendship dynamic asap. ___

The rest of the lesson goes by smoothly, surprisingly. Hoseok demonstrates the choreography while you try to keep up, him stopping you every now and then to correct you.

Halfway through the lesson, when Hoseok called for a water break, the door to your studio swings open. A lithe brunette man appears in the doorway, only to double-take when he sees you and Hoseok inside, before he starts apologizing profusely.

“Ah, sorry hyung, I thought I was in here today.”

“No worries Jimin. I think you’re in room 211 today,” Hoseok replies, before glancing at you. “Jimin, this is ___, ___ , Jimin. He’s the one of the contemporary dancers here.” he says, gesturing between the two of you.

Jimin. Why did that name sound familiar? Was this the guy Chae was talking about? The one she met at the club?

“Nice to meet you, Jimin,” you say kindly.

“It was a pleasure meeting you too ___.” And you don’t know if it was just you but you swear there was a glint to his eyes and a slight curl of his lip that made this baby-faced man seem so much more tantalizing. But before you could ponder this further, Jimin was speaking again.

“Unfortunately I have to get going now or I’m going to be late for an appointment. The mom’s a nightmare — wants her kid to be the next Maddie Ziegler. Tough luck cause little Sarah’s got two left feet. Don’t tell her mom though, she’s loaded and I need the money. Anyways, I gotta go. Hope to see you around sometime ___! Later Hoseok!” He calls with a wave, already out the door in a matter of seconds.

Hoseok chuckles softly at that, shaking his head slightly.

“He seems nice,” you say. “Why couldn’t I have gotten him instead of you as a teacher?”

Hoseok pins you with a look. “Because, contrary to popular belief, I don’t think contemporary dance would do you much good in a club. Unless it’s an underground jazz club. Maybe not even then,” he shrugs.

Why didn’t you just lie when he asked you why you were taking lessons earlier? It was already embarrassing enough being here dancing in front of him, and now he knows you’re here just because you wanna know how to throw it back in the club.

Apparently, your silence in response to his comment was his cue to keep talking.

“But anyways, Jimin may look like an angel but he’s everything but. You’re better off with me.”

“Oh, like you’re some saint.”

“As holy as Lucifer,” he smiles.

“The fallen an-”

“Less talking, more dancing. Come on we still have like 15 more minutes.” he says, cutting you off by turning the music back on.

 Needless to say, the dance lesson wasn’t as bad as you had expected it to be. A couple days later you and Chaeyoung finally have a chance to catch up and you tell her all about your first lesson. You mention the brunette haired boy, Jimin you think his name was, and she tells you that that was in fact the guy she met at the club. Apparently, your first impression of the man was correct. Chae tells you he’s a huge charmer, can flirt the pants off any woman, or man, for that matter. You think it’s his eyes, they draw you in like a predator hunting its next prey.

She encourages you to go back for more lessons, even if its just to get a chance to “sample the merchandise” as she put it.

You do find yourself going back the next time and the week after that. Not to “sample the merchandise” or whatever the fuck, but because of your dedication to getting better. Soon enough you have been attending the lessons for a little over a month. You find that each time you go the embarrassment of having to dance in front of Hoseok dissipates little by little.

You even discover that Hoseok is not that bad to be around. He’s funny and despite your fears of him laughing in your face when you mess up he’s surprisingly polite. He doesn’t scoff or sneer when you miss a step, instead he’s attentive, sweet even, as he helps you correct your form.

You start to notice a difference in yourself as well. Even if only by a fraction. You aren’t a professional-level dancer yet (nor do you think you’ll ever get to that level, but that’s okay) but you’ve come a long way from where you started. It makes you feel proud that you are finally doing something for yourself. Something you always wanted to do but never had the chance to.

One night however, Hoseok decides to change things up from your usual way of doing things.

You enter the studio, the first one there as usual, and you put down your things before you start stretching to get your body warmed up for vigorous exercise. It had been something Hoseok suggested you do when you had started complaining about having cramps after sessions.

It is when you are bending over, hands touching your toes to stretch your hamstrings that you hear the door swing open. At the low whistle that comes from behind you, you jerk upright and turn around, sending a glare to the man standing in the doorway.

“Perv,” you say through your teeth.

Hoseok sighs, defeated, “Guilty as charged, but can you blame me? If you don’t want to give me a show, face away from the door next time, yeah?”

You cross your arms over your chest and say, “I’m not paying you to ogle my ass. We’ve only got an hour and you’ve already wasted 5 minutes by showing up late.”

“It always comes back to money with you doesn’t it? I’m hurt.” You roll your eyes instead of responding and he uses this time to set his duffel bag down next to yours at the back of the room.

He squats down to fish his phone and aux cord out of his bag while he speaks.

“I want to try something different today.”

He’s not looking at you so he misses the suspicious look you send his way. “Different…how?”

“You said you’re here because you want to learn how to dance so you can go to the club right?”

“Yeah…?” you say, still not getting his point.

“Well everything I’ve been teaching you so far is way too advanced for a club. In all honesty, you don’t really need these lessons if that’s the reason you’re here, but you’re paying me so who am I to complain?”

You give him a pointed glare. “Your point, Hoseok. Get to it.”

“Right, all I’m saying is my lessons are useless in that kind of setting. So, I’m gonna teach you something else. Something useful.”

“Yeah? Well, something tells me I’m not gonna like this.”

Finally locating his phone and aux cord from within the depths of his bag, he fiddles with the speakers as he says,

“Oh trust me, you won’t.”

Suddenly a song you don’t recognize is playing through the speakers. It’s slow, much slower than the other songs you’ve practiced to. The rhythm is … sensual.

Too sensual.

Hoseok sets his phone down on his duffel bag in the corner of the room. You see him glance at you before he picks up the chair by the wall and walks toward you with it.

He sets the chair down behind you before coming back around to face you again. “You’re main problem is you’re lacking confidence. You need to have confidence to dance in the club – to dance period. To not care what anyone thinks about you because in that moment you’re free. It’s just you and the music.”

He takes in your expression. You’re still looking at him with suspicion, arms crossed over your chest and expression guarded.

“Don’t get me wrong, you’ve improved a hell of a lot these past few sessions, but you’re still not completely comfortable, I can tell. And your dancing is suffering from it.”

Clearing your throat, you ask defensively, “Okay, and?? What does this have to do with our lessons?”

“Well I can’t force you to gain confidence in your dancing but I can certainly help you try. Just try and follow my lead, okay?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer, instead he pulls the chair up further and tells you to sit in it.

“What, why?!?” You protest. Did he really expect you to just go along with whatever he says without telling you what his plans were? He must not know who he’s dealing with.

Rolling his eyes, he repeats himself, “Just sit in it. We don’t have time for this.”

“Not until you tell me why I have to sit in the chair.” You say not backing of down.

He tilts his head back with a groan, looking thoroughly fed up with you. “God you’re so stubborn. Everything just has to be difficult with you doesn’t it?” He says more to himself than to you.

At this point the all too-sensual-fucking music still plays from the speakers and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you fearful of what was to come.

Hoseok finally peels his head back down from the ceiling to look at you and when he does his stare is intense.

You go to say something else but when he turns his gaze towards you it makes you hesitate.

You gulp.

“Why are you so stubborn, hmm?” And he takes a step closer to you.

“Do you like pissing me off? Is this fun for you, is that it?” Another step forward from him has you stepping back, suddenly not feeling as bold as you had been just moments ago.

“Hoseok, what are you-”

“Ahh, ahh, ahh…” he shushes you with a finger to your lips. “Don’t speak. You had your chance. It’s my turn now.” 

You find yourself leaning as far back as possible to put some distance between the two of you, but when you step back again, your leg hits the chair, causing you to stumble.

A hand snakes around your waist, preventing you from a painful collision with the chair and the floor of his studio. A look of shock lights up your face as you look up at Hoseok, your voice truly stolen from you now.

“Careful, we don’t want you to get hurt, now do we? Why don’t you take a seat, hmm? Relax those legs a bit, you’ll need them later.”

This time Hoseok leaves you no room for debate as he eases you down into the chair himself. The music is still playing, and your nerves are higher than they ever have been during a lesson. This was Hoseok’s plan to get you to feel confident? If the sweat forming under your pits was any indication, he was doing a terrible job.

Hoseok stands before you, looking down at you in your seat.

“You need to loosen up. Dancing is all about feeling music. Letting the rhythm flow through your body as you feel it.”

He suddenly stands back a bit, swaying his hips to the beat of the music as it plays.

“Don’t think, just do what feels right.” At that he closes his eyes, head tilting back towards the ceiling once again, but he keeps the swaying to the music.

While his eyes are closed, you take the opportunity to get a good look at him. He really is in his element when he dances. There’s something about him that just looks so at peace – like he’s in his own little world that consists of just him, the music, and the sway of his body.

You drink in the movement of his hips all the way up to his exposed neck and that sharp jawline you finally had the chance to admire with his eyes closed. Instantly, you regret your ogling because it does nothing to quell the rising of your body temperature, or the heat between your thighs.

Things only get worse when you notice that he is getting closer to you. Stepping in time to the music, Hoseok is slowly inching his way towards you. He’s looking directly at you now, can see you squirming in your seat in an effort to put as much distance between you two as possible, and the corner of his mouth lifts up in a smirk. Oh he’s enjoying this, the bastard, a little too much if you’re being honest.

Suddenly, as the beat drops in the song, he’s propelling himself forward, effectively closing the last few inches of space between you two.

He’s leaning forward, devilish smirk on his face and a hand on the back of your chair, you’re face almost eye level with his chest as you look up at him pathetically.

“This is the type of dancing you’d most likely see in a club. Free, wild… seductive.”

By now the music has returned to it’s melodic rhythm and so does Hoseok. He begins swaying to the beat, rolling his body into yours in a way that can only resemble a lap dance to any onlookers.

One hand on the back of your chair, the other just lightly grazing the top of your knee as he moves, the smirk never leaving his face as he says, “Watch me. See how fluid I am with my movements? How I hear the music and let the notes flow through my body?”

He’s backing away from you now, only to circle your chair, not failing to drag his fingertips across your shoulders until he comes back around to face you again. He traces his arms down your forearms only to grab your hands and hold them in front of him while you continue to stare pathetically up at him.

“Think you can do that for me?” he asks, hopeful eyes shining back at you.

What is he talking about? No you can’t do that, that’s the whole reason you’re here in the first place. This whole situation is bizarre and you snap out of you’re stupor to remind him that he’s supposed to be teaching you to dance, not… whatever this is.

“Hoseok,” you say, “I’m not paying you to give me a lap dance.”

“Oh, I know,” he nods, “You’re gonna give me one.”

Before you even have a chance to ask him what in the hell he’s talking about he’s hiking you up onto your feet and plopping himself down into the chair instead.

He looks smug as he sits, legs spread wide in that obnoxious way that guys do and hands in his lap. He stares up at you blankly.

“Well…” he pats his thighs, “Get to it then.”

You stare at him incredulously for a moment before you burst into laughter. The unhinged notes of your laugh almost sound out of place amidst the music that still plays in the background. 

“You’re kidding right? You’ve got to be kidding.”

When his facial expression remains serious you realize that he’s not kidding. You still. “You’re not kidding.” You cross your arms over your chest, turning towards the door. “Okay I’m actually leaving...,” you say for the second time that night.

Before you can get too far, however, arms snake around your waist and you find yourself rooted to the spot.

“You wanted my help, well this is what my help looks like. Ultimately, it’s your own choice, you don’t have to do this but trust me, this lesson is just as beneficial to you as any other, maybe even more.”

You hang your head down, sighing in defeat but not ready to give up just yet. “How do I know you’re not just doing this for your own perverted gain?”

He lifts his hands up by his sides and says, “You have my word. This is purely for your own benefit and not for my own personal gain at all. Scout’s honor.”

You reluctantly relent, softening your demeanor a little by unfolding you’re crossed arms from your chest.

Hoseok calms at that, seeing that you are staying.

“Plus,” he adds, “No offense, but if I wanted a good lap dance I’d just go to the strip club.”

You turn to leave again but Hoseok is grabbing your wrist preventing you from straying far yet again. He’s doing that a lot tonight. Being overly touchy-feely. You can’t say you’re complaining. 

“Kidding, kidding. Geez, your finicky. Come on, at least just try for me.”

You turn around in his arms and sigh. “Alright… well, what do you want me to do?”

“Just feel the music and do whatever feels right.”

Confidence. Just have confidence, you say to yourself. You put your hands on the back of his chair, as he had done earlier but after that you freeze. You don’t know what to do. It seems like you can’t even hear the music at all with how hard you’re heart is pounding in your ears.

Hoseok must have noticed your hesitance as he puts his hands on your wrists which causes you to look at him.

“Hey, just breathe. It’s just me, you and the music.”

He places your hands on his shoulders and his arms at your sides pull your hips closer to him. As the music plays, his arms around your waist guide you into a soft sway along to the beat.

“See? Not so bad, is it?”

You shake your head at him, still a little timid but starting to move your hips along to the music on your own.

Feeling more emboldened as time passes, you pull back from him a little, and let the music guide your movements. Your hands drop to your sides, slowly dragging them up your body as you continue your hypnotic sway from side to side. You try to channel all of the grace and sex appeal of your favorite female artists into your movements, imagining a movement and forcing your body to execute it exactly.

At first you don’t pay attention to Hoseok, your eyes opting to drift closed so you can focus on hearing the music and translating it into dancing. But at the sound of someone clearing their throat your head snaps back up to stare at the man sitting directly before you.

Big mistake. His eyes are focused on you, staring intently at you and every move you make. It causes you to falter a bit in your movements, but you quickly recover, not wanting him to notice how much he affects you. He looks… uncomfortable? Weird because you’ve never seen him look like that before, ever. He’s always the picture of calm, cool and collected. But now… now his eyes are blown out, pupils wide and…you could swear you saw his eyes flicker over your frame once before he wets his lips and shifts in his seat.

Mostly because you want to get away from his heated gaze but partly because you feel strangely emboldened by his reaction you begin to tease him more, starting a slow walk around the chair like he had done to you earlier. Unfortunately for you, he can still see you in the mirrored wall of the studio and he is looking straight at you, the intensity of his gaze never wavering. You meet his eyes with a stare of your own, the room silent except for the music that plays softly in the background.

It’s almost as if you are in some sort of competition. As if he’s testing you to see whether you really have the guts to do what he asked of you. And if there was one thing about you, it was the fact that you really, really liked to prove people wrong.

Biting your lip, you tentatively place your hands on the back of his chair, the tips of your fingers lightly touching the top of his shoulders.

To your surprise, he captures your fingers in his own hands, dragging your hands down to rest properly around his neck. At this point, you are just slightly swaying in time to the beat of the music, nerves shooting through your body at a rapid pace. Your eyes fall close, head tilted down at your toes in favor of looking at him.

However, your head snaps back up again once he speaks.

“You’re doing well. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Well, piss me off and this is what happens.”

“Really? That’s all it takes? A couple fighting words and you’re moving like this? Remind me to piss you off more often then.”

“Please don’t. Between you and my best friend I don’t think my blood pressure can take much more than this. Any higher and I’m finished.”

He chuckles lowly and your too busy admiring the deep timbre of his laugh so close to your ear that you don’t notice he’s pulling you around to face him until your standing right in front of him again.

His hands find their way to your hips but this time they’re timid. You freeze, standing between his parted legs, so close, your hands braced against his shoulders as you stare down at him. He seems to be just as frozen, seemingly shocked still by the proximity of your body to his. His hands maintain their light hold on your hips, not wanting to push you farther than your willing to go, as if he’s waiting on you to make your next move. It’s cute… his hesitance. He’s being polite, an action you’d never expect to come out of the usually cocky man sitting before you, and your thankful. It gives you the much needed confidence to continue, your movements becoming bolder, raunchier.

And suddenly you’re pushing off from him, wrapping your arms around yourself as your move in time to the music. You don’t watch him for long though, it’ll only make you more nervous than you already are. You can already feel that sudden burst of confidence starting to dwindle but you don’t want to give in to nerves now. You’ve come to far.

You spin around, continuing with that same sensual sway before you bend over suddenly at the drop of a beat, your head down by your knees and your hand at your feet. You don’t know where all this is coming from. How you are doing it. You must be pulling from the mental compartment of all the dance moves from female artists you had admired but could never pull off.

Whatever the case may be, you know one thing for certain, you are doing what feels right. It’s just you and the music and your body is responding to it. What you have yet to realize, however, is that the man in the chair is also responding to something. And it isn’t the music.

_____

Hoseok watches as you slowly drag yourself back up, turning yourself around to face him again. The whole time he just has a front row to seat to your ass. I mean it’s just there. He’s starting to think this was a bad idea, but in his defense, he didn’t know you’d turn out to be such a fucking tease. Once you let your guard down, he couldn’t deny that you actually had some moves. There was some rhythm in your bones somewhere. Buried deep, deep down beneath all that ice.

But soon Hoseok is losing focus again as your shimmying turns into a slow stalk towards him. Your face – determined, concentrated, his – apprehensive, and so unbelievably turned on.

You grab for the back of his neck with one hand, drawing your faces close, as you sink down on his thigh, beginning a slow grind there.

Yep, definitely a bad idea, he thinks.

Where was all this coming from? You had to be fucking with him. You must’ve known how to dance all along because this is ridiculous. No, it’s ridiculous how turned on he is right now and you haven’t even done much but move your hips.

Well, now you’re grinding said hips on his thigh and that’s ten times more distracting. It doesn’t make sense really. He’s seen way better dancers – at strips clubs, some of his fellow coworkers, hell even some of the half-drunken girls at parties he’s been to. He’s seen all the tricks, the way they oozed sexuality with each and every movement. But there was something about you that held him hostage. He was intoxicated. By what he doesn’t know.

It must be your eyes. So dark and captivating, yet so innocent at the same time. Or maybe it was the fact that you did prove him wrong. And he didn’t know whether to be thankful or resent the fact that you did…

He’s not sure, but for the life of him he hopes you don’t notice his body’s reaction in response to your actions.

_____

Holy shit, you have no idea what the fuck you’re doing. Grabbing his neck and taking a seat on his lap seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that you’re behind made contact with his thighs? Different story. But still…you want to prove him wrong. Not just that, you want to prove to yourself that you could do this. So, summoning all the courage you had left in you, you ground down on him. Your hand still holding his neck, your faces mere inches apart as you ground your hips into his crotch. The shocked expression on his face and his blown out pupils only encouraged you, urging you to move faster, grind just a bit harder.

"You didn’t tell me you could move like this,” he mutters lowly, so lowly that if anyone else were to be in the room, only you would be able to hear him.

You falter slightly, not expecting his voice because it felt like ages ago since either one of you spoke. However, you quickly recover, composing yourself to reply to him.

“I didn’t know I could.”

He glances down, then back up. “Clearly you can.”

At this point your faces are even closer than you were before, nose to nose, and his hands have once again found their way to your waist. He doesn’t control your movements, as he did before, instead his hands seem to follow your lead, allowing you to remain in control.

The gesture is subtle, but you pick up on it nonetheless. It’s sweet, you think, how he’s not forcing you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, allowing you to be in control of your body.

You find yourself leaning forward, something about him drawing you in. You are staring into eyes and his intense gaze meets your own right back. You also find that your lower half has migrated from the end of his thighs to closer and closer to his crotch. And what you find there makes your breath hitch, voice caught in your throat.

If he knows that you noticed the slight bulge forming in his pants he doesn’t say anything. And neither do you. Instead the both of you just continue to stare at each other. Your hips have halted all movement, the room silent except for your heavy breaths and the sound of the music in the background.

Your arms are still around his neck and the position is intimate so intimate, but you don’t pull away.

He looks up at you, bottom lip between his teeth, as he studies you, and he looks like he’s about to say something but at that moment the door to the studio swings open and you are scrambling off his lap in an instant. Your butt makes contact with the hard wood of the floor and you wince. Hoseok had been nice enough to try to save you from your inevitable fall but when he couldn’t he offers you a hand up instead.

Your eyes snap to the man in the doorway when you hear him start to speak.

“Sorry, am I… interrupting something?” The man queries, the expression on his face puzzled and slightly uncomfortable.

“No, not at all!” Hoseok blurts, then composes himself, “I was just in the middle of a lesson, what do you need Jungkook?”

“Sorry, uh right. I was wondering if you could cover my class tomorrow? The 8-10 year olds? I got a group assignment for school I can’t miss.”

“No problem. Why didn’t you just text me?”

“You weren’t answering your phone. I figured you were in here rehearsing like always, I didn’t know you had a lesson going on, sorry.” The kid does look sincerely remorseful for barging in on you guys but you couldn’t help but find his wide eyes and puppy-dog expression cute. Speaking of cute, you were starting to wonder whether being attractive was a requirement for working here because so far everyone you had come into contact with was insanely good-looking.

“It’s okay. I guess I didn’t tell you I had a lesson tonight.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking slightly out o breath even though he wasn’t the one dancing. Gesturing between you both, he introduces you to each other and says, “You have got to stop meeting my friends this way. But all this is telling me is that my friends lack manners and need to learn how to knock.”

Jungkook blushes, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he glances at you and gives you a small wave. Adorable.

You wave back, smiling politely as you ask him, “So Jungkook, you’re a dance instructor here too?”

“Yep. I mostly lead the children’s hip hop classes but I assist in the adult classes occasionally.”

Hoseok claps his hands together, “Alright, I think Jungkook’s intrusion wraps up our lesson. Kook I’ll see you later. Text me the details of the class so I know what I’m doing when I get there okay?” Jungkook nods his okay and they say their goodbyes. Once the door swings closed again Hoseok turns to see you have already started collecting your things.

“Your friends seem so much sweeter than you.”

“Here we go again, you assuming you know my friends better than I do when you don’t.”

“What?” you shrug. “The kid’s adorable. Like a cute little puppy.”

“Yeah, well sorry you’re stuck with me. JK doesn’t do private lessons.” You zip up your backpack and throw it over your shoulder as you stand, turning to face him. “Aww that’s too bad. Maybe I can get him to make an exception?” You put your finger to your chin in thought.

“You really didn’t do too bad today you know.”

You’re confused by the sudden change in topic but his next statement clears it up for you.

“Your dancing. It was actually… pretty good.”

You blush at the compliment. Really? He really thought you did well? You don’t know why you are surprised because you could obviously tell by his body language a few minutes ago that he was into it but…it felt good to hear him say it.

“Uh, thanks.” You say like an idiot. God why did words fail you at the most inopportune of times.

“No problem. See, I told you all you needed was a little push.”

You smile and nod at him again (like an idiot) but you can’t help it. You don’t know what to say. It’s like you were suddenly overwhelmed with a fresh wave of nerves.

“Well it’s getting late. I guess I’ll head out.”

“Right, uh, I-I’m gonna go now too. Uh, thanks again.”

“Don’t mention it.” He flashes his megawatt smile at you and you feel the butterflies stir.

Sending one more tight smile has way you turn on your heel and make your way to the door as quickly as you can without actually running.

God, what did you get yourself into?

.

.

.

A week later you are sitting at the shitty desk in the shitty building of your shitty job.

In case it wasn’t clear enough, you really didn’t like your job.

Originally you had took it because you thought it would be a good entryway into the publishing world. Turns out you were just doing the job of a glorified intern, answering phone calls, responding to emails, and (you guessed it) going on the occasional coffee run.

Fucking secretarial work. You should have known this is what you would be doing when you applied, really. You had thought this job would give you exposure to the world of writing, publishing, and editing but sadly you were wrong. The lengths of your exposure spanned asking a client what day of the week worked best for them to meet with a staff member to discuss their work.

Thankfully, with only one semester left in school, you wouldn’t have to wait long until you could apply for work that you actually wanted to do. Once you figured that out, exactly. At only 24, most people would say you were doing well for yourself, but you couldn’t help but feel as if life was passing you by and everyone was leaving you behind.

You took a break from school for a year to save up enough money to go back but when you did, it wasn’t easy. Who knew taking a year off could make it so hard to get back into the groove of things? You had to grind full time for awhile in order to catch up. In the meantime though, you were stuck here.

Currently, you were supposed to be responding to emails but you were attending to much more important business.

Chae: So y'all bumped and grinded on each other… and he almost kissed you. I’m struggling to see the downside to all this

You: I said it felt like we were gonna kiss, not 'he almost kissed me’ Big difference.

Chae: Sounds the same to me

You: And the downside is that now things are going to be awkward between us. We were actually starting to become cordial with each other, dare i say friends even. now that’s all shot to shit

Chae: It’s only awkward if you make it awkward ;)

You: Exactly! Have you met me?!

Chae: You’re overreacting! He obviously likes you so quit worrying.

You: Oh yeah? What makes you so sure of that?

Chae: He let you dance on him for 15 minutes and popped a stiffy from it. I think he likes you.

You: I have got to stop telling you every little thing about my life.

Chae: Try as hard as you want but I’ll pry it out of you sooner or later!

Just as you were about to type out a snarky reply in response, your phone pinged with the alert of a new message.

But it wasn’t from Chaeyoung.

It was from Hoseok.

Hoseok: Hey

And then, another ping, alerting you that second message had come in.

Hoseok: I’m so sorry, but I have to cancel our lesson tomorrow. I have a thing I gotta go to. Hope you understand :)

Great. Now he was cancelling on you. Must be trying to avoid you after what happened last session. Chaeyoung wasn’t always right, as she liked to believe.

You: Yeah, well if he likes me so much why did he cancel our lesson tomorrow?

Chae: What?

You: Yep. He cancelled just now. Said he had a 'thing’

Chae: Ppl have to go to 'things’ all the time. Relax. I can 100% bet that he still likes you

You: Sure (◔_◔)

And that was the end of that conversation because eventually you did get back to work, even if all you did was pretend to organize the files in your already alphabetically-coded drawer. By the time it was time to clock out you were already packed up and ready to go, all you were waiting on was the clock to hit 6pm.

You had absolutely no plans today, a rare occasion that you got to go home and not have to worry about how you were going to finish several assignments for classes that you a) had little to no time on, or b) had ample time for but procrastinated on.

All you wanted was to go home and curl up in front of your couch with your dinner.

You gasped. Dinner. It was sad to say, but you had absolutely no food in your home to make a warm home cooked meal tonight. With your roommate having gone to visit her family back home, the house had been even emptier than usual. And you were too lazy to go grocery shopping tonight, it would have to wait until the weekend. So, as you got in your car you pondered your options for where you would be getting your next meal from.

There was a Korean place nearby that you had always wanted to try. You guess now was the perfect opportunity unless you wanted to go home and put together a dinner made out of cereal dust and cup ramen.

As appetizing as that sounded (it didn’t), you quickly changed lanes, heading for the restaurant a few miles away from you.

When you got there you were surprised. Not by the decor, or by the delicious smell of food wafting through the air, but because the man standing directly in front of you looked like your dance instructor. You hadn’t memorized the back of his head or anything, but you were pretty sure this was Hoseok standing in front of you and not some eerily similar doppelganger.

He stood in line waiting to order his food, hat pulled down low over his eyes and head buried in his phone. He hadn’t noticed you yet, thankfully, and you took this time to ponder whether you should make yourself known or just go home to your sad dinner of cereal flakes and cup noodles.

The last time you two talked you had turned into a awkward, stuttering mess, so wanting to save yourself the embarrassment of having to go through that again, you had decided to slip out as inconspicuously as possible.

No luck. Unfortunately, Hoseok chose that moment to look up from his phone, swiveling his neck around on his shoulders for a stretch.

You were backing away quietly toward the door so you saw the exact moment Hoseok recognized you, double taking to confirm that it was in fact you. You hear your name fall from his lips in question and you resist the urge to visibly wince.

“Hoseok!” You say feigning enthusiasm. “What’re you doing here?” The fake smile plastered on your face is probably terrifying.

“Just grabbing dinner. My buddy owns this place so I get a nice discount. You grabbing dinner too?”

“Yeah, yep.” Jesus, fuck. “Though I don’t have a friend who works here so I guess I’ll be paying full price.” How much longer did you have to endure this torture?

He laughs at that, and it does something weird to your stomach. The butterflies are acting up again, but this time it isn’t due to nerves.

“Listen, I’m really sorry I had to cancel our lesson. It’s just there’s something I forgot about and…”

You interject to help move the conversation along. You do not want to talk about dance, or lessons, or anything at all right now.

“Hey, no worries. I get it. You make me out to be way more devastated than I actually am.”

He laughs again saying, “Stop lying. You would’ve quit weeks ago if you didn’t like dancing at least a little.”

Maybe he was right. You don’t know. You certainly didn’t hate it as much as you did when you started, but love? Hmm, must be still getting there. You force your other theory, the one where you decided to keep up the lessons because of the person teaching them, down deep into the recesses of your brain. 

You go to answer him but before any of you can say anything else, it’s Hoseok’s turn in line.

He greets the host comfortably, they seem to know each other, presumably because Hoseok’s friend owns the place and he must come here all the time.

“Jaehyun, haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?”

“Good, good. Me and the wife took a vacation away from the kids and lemme tell you, best sleep I’ve had in a long time. You still working for that crappy boss of yours?”

Crappy boss? As far as you knew Hoseok seemed to be comfortable with his job at the studio. You had even met the owner one time and she didn’t seem to be a total stick in the ass. In fact it was quite the opposite. You remember you had been running late to practice after work one day, struggling to lug your bag, your change of clothes and sneakers all into the studio. The owner had been passing by when she saw you and kindly offered to give you a hand. But then again, some people tended acted different towards their employees versus a paying customer.

“No, no I quit not too long ago. Seokjin here today?”

“Oh really? And yeah he’s in the back. I can go grab him for you if you want-” The host, Jaehyun says, already making his way to the back of the restaurant.

“No need. I’ll see him later no doubt.” Hoseok replies.

“Alright. You want the usual, to go?”

“Actually,” Hoseok glances at you,“I think I’ll eat here tonight. Can I get a table for two?”

“Sure, no problem.” You see Jaehyun’s eyes land on you standing awkwardly off to the side before they’re back on Hoseok, “Just give me a minute.”

You’re confused. Was Hoseok meeting up with someone? That’s the only plausible reason for him asking for a table for a table for two. You panic. What if he meeting up with a date? God you needed to hurry up and order your food so you could get the hell out of there.

But then Hoseok is turning to you, his eyes wide and hopeful.

“Have dinner with me?” he says.

“What?” You must have misheard.

He laughs, though this time you don’t know why. “I said have dinner with me. Come on, I could use the company. Unless… you have other plans?” And for a moment he looks disappointed.

Yeah, your other plans consisted of curling up on your couch and stuffing your face of bulgolgi but you don’t tell him that. In fact, you’re starting to think you must be a masochist because despite your nerves just a moment ago you agree to eat with him anyway.

“Uh, no. No plans.” you mumble.

“Great, so you’ll eat with me?”

You nod tentatively in response and that elicits a wide smile from him that lights up his face like the sun. You sigh, following Hoseok to a table near the back of the restaurant. You’re more whipped than you thought.

The food is good, oh my god it’s so good. Why hadn’t you come here sooner?

You’re in the middle of shoving another serving of pork belly into your mouth when Hoseok (who you had honestly forgotten was there) speaks.

“Whoa, slow down. A-are you even chewing? Please tell me you’re chewing and not just inhaling your food.”

You moan around a spoonful of sliced beef, rice, and vegetables, the spices meshing together and hitting your tongue just right. “Can’t talk. Eating.”

He shakes his head, attention now on his own food and making sure the meat on the grill between you doesn’t burn.

“Well, I’m glad you like it. I’ll have to put in a little extra for chef then. He never cooks like this when I’m by myself.”

You stop eating mid-chew, tearing your eyes away from the table to shoot him a look. “Hoseok, I don’t know if this is what I think you mean but you’re not paying for my food.”

“I already told you, it’s your first time here so don’t worry about it. Plus, it’s the least I can do for disrupting a busy woman such as yourself.”

Something about the twinkle in his eye and the smirk on his face while he says it gives you the impression that he knew you had absolutely nothing better to do tonight.

At his words, you momentarily forget your argument and say, “Excuse me. I’ll have you know I am very busy, okay? So drop the sarcasm. I had several plans lined up for tonight.” You huff indignantly. 

“Oh yeah, like what?” he queries looking up at you in between turning the meet over on the grill. 

Shit. “Like... you know. Stuff,” you shrug. 

His light cackle fills the air and you would be more upset that he was laughing at you if said laugh didn’t warm your insides and bring a smile to your own lips. 

“I can’t believe you haven’t been here before.”

“Me neither. And I’ll be beating myself up everyday for not having come sooner. This is fucking delicious.”

“Yeah, I know,” an amused expression crosses his face as he resumes watching you scarf down the rest of your meal. “Save some for me, yeah?”

“You snooze you lose.” Comes your retort, already reaching for your next mouthful of food. “You said you’re friend owns this place?”

“Yes he does. The friend’s name is Kim Seokjin. That’s me. I’m Kim Seokjin.” You register that another voice has entered the conversation and you look behind Hoseok to see a handsome man smiling brightly at the pair of you, his hands resting on good-naturedly on Hoseok’s shoulders.

“Glad to see you’re enjoying my food. If you’re going to get anything out of this date I’m glad it’s a good meal.” Seokjin says to you.

This time, you do choke. Coughing hysterically, you reach for your glass of water in an effort to clear your throat. Date? Hoseok’s friend thinks you were on a date.

Just great, add more fuel to your fantasies.

Hoseok blanches, looking back at Seokjin to clarify. “Seokjin, you know damn well I stopped bringing my dates here after what happened the last time.”He gestures to you, “This is ___. She does lessons with me.”

No longer coughing up a lung like a madwoman, you shyly wave in greeting when Seokjin looks your way.

“Nice to meet you ___. Ignore him, I’m sure anything I said at the time was perfectly appropriate.”

“You told her I can only get it up if we’re both cosplaying as titans from that weird cartoon you watch!”

“Anime, Hoseok, it’s called anime. And your kink is nothing to be ashamed of! There are plenty communities of people out there with the same fetish. I just had to give your date a warning in case she wasn’t into that sorta thing. I was only doing you a favor.” Seokjin shrugs.

Hoseok huffs in frustration and you chuckle quietly at their antics. Seokjin, hmm? So far you think you like this guy. You haven’t seen Hoseok this flustered in… ever.

The squabbling between the pair dies down and you tune back into the conversation when Seokjin turns serious.

“How’s things going at the firm 'seok? That place keeping you busy?”

All of a sudden Hoseok looks, nervous? And not the flustered kind of nervous he was just a moment ago when Seokjin was teasing him. He’s more anxious than anything. He brings a hand up to rub at the back of his neck before he replies,

“Yeah, I uh… I quit actually.” he mutters sheepishly.

You think Seokjin’s eyes are going to pop out of his head with how far they bug out of their sockets. “Quit? What do you mean quit? Since when?”

Hoseok glares at the other man, as if trying to telepathically communicate that he should keep his voice down.

He elaborates, “I don’t know, about a month ago? Listen, it’s not a big deal.”

Seokjin bellows with laughter at that, a hand placed on Hoseok’s shoulder for balance as he doubles over in mirth. Once he comes to again, he wipes a tear from his eye dramatically and straightens up.

“Ha, good one. Not a big deal? Wasn’t that your old man’s dream for you your whole entire life and it’s 'not a big deal’?”

Hoseok winces at that and you’re starting to realize that this conversation is venturing into personal matters. Personal matters that are obviously a very touchy subject for Hoseok if his reaction is anything to go by.

“Yeah, well it’s not my old man’s life to live now is it?”

Hoseok says lowly and at that the conversation halts for several moments.

You’re thankful for the chatter of other patrons, the sounds of metal hitting ceramic, and the distant street noise coming from outside or this long lull in the conversation would have been way more awkward than it already is. You are beginning to wonder whether you should just leave enough money on the table to pay your half of the bill and go home but then Hoseok is speaking again.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap like that it’s just… I was tired of people telling me what I should be doing, especially my dad. So, I quit. I never liked that job anyway.”

Seokjin nods his head in understanding. “No, I get it. I’m glad you’re out actually. You always seemed so miserable there and you never had time to hang out anymore. I take it you’re at the studio full time now?”

“Yep. I’ve felt better than I have in a long time too. Despite being on my feet most days I feel like I have more energy than I ever have working in that hellhole.”

“Good. I’m proud of you. What did your dad say?”

That anxious look is back on Hoseok’s face.

“Funny story. I kind of… haven'ttoldhimyet.” The last part of his sentence is rushed and muttered under his breath but Seokjin still clearly manages to hear what he had said.

“You what?! Hoseok, you have to tell him! It’s gonna crush him but he needs to know.”

Hoseok swats at Seokjin’s head as if trying to shoo him away when he leaned closer to shout at the man sitting in the booth before him.

“I know, I’m working on it. I just need time. That’s why I didn’t tell you right away. You can’t your mouth shut for shit.” Seokjin places a hand on his chest, offended

“Excuse you I can keep secrets, especially the one you’re keeping from your dad right now. Just tell him soon, he’s gonna find out eventually.”

“I know, I’m just not ready yet. But I will be! Soon.”

Hoseok starts playing with fingers dejectedly and Seokjin looks down at him pityingly.

He looks so sad and small, and the sight tugs at your heart strings immensely. Suddenly Seokjin turns to you as if just now remembering you had been sitting there the entire time.

“I don’t think you can blame me for scaring off your date this time Hoseok. This was all you buddy.” Seokjin says with a pat to the other man’s shoulder, most likely trying to lighten the mood.

“Again, not a date. And I still blame you. You’re the one who asked me about my job.” Hoseok counters.

“Fine,” Seokjin brushes Hoseok off with a huff before he turns back to you. “But I still feel bad. Tell you what, I’ll throw in a free dessert, any one you want, on the house.”

“Oh it’s ok, you don’t have to-” you begin but Hoseok cuts you off.

“She’ll take it. She’s not even paying so I’ll take any discounts I can get.”

“Oh, well in that case, it’s standard price and extra for any extra toppings.” He turns back to you, “I recommend getting the sweet rice cakes with red bean paste. Absolutely delicious.”

Hoseok bristles. “Isn’t that the most expensive thing on the dessert men-”

“And with that I bid you all adew! Nice meeting you ___. And Hoseok, tell your dad about the thing!”

Seokjin shouts as he makes his way back to wherever the hell he came from. You barely had time to say goodbye as you watch him disappear toward the back of the restaurant.

You can’t help but smile as you observe Hoseok expression, elbows propped up on the table as he rubs his temples in annoyance.

“I like him,” you say decisively.

Hoseok still has his eyes closed when he replies.

“And the saga continues. How many more of my friends can you meet without taking an instant liking to them over me?”

“It depends, how many more friends do you have?”

His eyes snap open.

“None. No more. Seokjin was the last of ‘em. I’m a very lonely guy, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

You nod along dismissively. Hoseok was, generally, a very freindly guy (aside from that one fluke the first night you had met him), so you doubted any of that was true. 

“Listen, I’m sorry you had to see all that. Seokjin just kept prying. He must’ve forgotten we were in public. Or he didn’t care,” a pause, “He just didn’t care.” he declares.

You decide not to give him a hard time especially after hearing some things he probably never meant for you to hear.

“Don’t apologize. I get it, we all have overbearing parents, some more so than others.”

He laughs bitterly, “Yeah, my dad’s one of the more overbearing types I guess. Fucking sucks, really.”

You give him a pitying smile to try and convey that you understand where he’s coming from but you don’t, not really.

Your parents had always been pretty supportive of you, always letting you try whatever little activity caught your eye only to inevitably drop it two weeks later in favor of a new one. Your dad had always said “Let the girl try it. It’ll build her character,” all those times your mom got fed up with your lack of commitment to any one thing. You tried basketball (no hand-eye coordination at all) and drawing (too meticulous) and martial arts (sports just weren’t your thing) until you found something you did like. Writing. You had always loved reading and writing, so much so that you had joined the neighborhood book club (that was only comprised of retirement aged grandmas and a sprinkle of middle aged moms) to discuss your favorite books. In high school, you had become an active participant in the creative writing club, even going so far as to become the vice-president in your senior year.

So no, it didn’t really make much sense to you when someone told you they had an overbearing parent. Why would you want to limit your child by putting them in a box of what you think he or she is capable of doing?

So, as you sit there and wonder what you’re life would have been like if your parents didn’t let you experience these things, Hoseok continues.

“My dad he’s… he’s not a bad guy it’s just, he’s got a fixed idea of what I should be doing with my life.”

“Ohh.” You blank in recognition. “Let me guess, you don’t want to do that do you?” you query.

Hoseok nods. “Ever since I was little he was always saying ‘go to college, study something practical, get a high paying job.’ It’s like he never stopped to consider what I wanted.”

You nod, finally understanding. “Sometimes people just want the best for their kids but they don’t realize that their hurting them in the process.”

Hoseok’s eyes glimmer with the excitement that someone finally gets it. “Exactly. I’d just wish he realize that what’s best for me is doing what I want to do, not living out whatever plan he had laid out for me.”

“And what is it? That you want to do?” You ask. The answer should be obvious.

It is obvious. The man looks like he lives and breathes dance. Often more times than not he is a couple minutes late to your lessons because he got held up rehearsing for his own showcase, or staying behind to help a few of his other students with a difficult part of the choreography. Whatever plan he has laid out for himself you know dancing is an integral part of it. That’s why it does not come as a surprise to you when he says,

“Dance. I love it.”

You gasp, sarcasm laced in your tone, “I never would’ve guessed!”

He smiles. “I’m not sure how far I can go with this. I just know that it comes as natural to me as breathing and I never want to stop. And I want to make a living doing something I love, ya know? God, forbid I get into a freak accident or something. I don’t know what I’d do with myself.” He chuckles but you don’t doubt for one second that he is dead serious. You admire his passion and his bravery for getting out there and actively seeking out what he wants. Most kids wouldn’t dare defy their parents, even if it means sacrificing their own happiness.

Hoseok didn’t, refused, to settle. It’s admirable.

“I’m proud of you.” you say seriously.

“What?”

“I said I’m proud of you. I know I’m not your dad and I don’t have some lifelong bond with you that would warrant you wanting my approval, but, if it means anything, I’m proud of you. For living your life the way you want to.”

He’s silent for a moment, seemingly awestruck by the fact that you didn’t say anything sarcastic, or slightly insulting, for once. It’s actually quite…nice. He’s not sure how to respond yet but his body warms a little inside at your remark.

“Uh, thanks. Yeah, i-it does mean something. Means a lot.” And he’s back to sheepish again, his face turning a cute shade of tomato red in response.

You learn a lot about Hoseok that night. He was two years older than you, for one, and apparently he had a degree in business analytics, which was… completely not Hoseok to say the least.

In other words it was extremely shocking to you, but it was something he had completed at the insistence of his father. He had been working in sales for about a year when he decided to call it quits. Ever since he’s been working at the studio full time as an instructor. He makes significantly less money now, but at least now he doesn’t dread the thought of waking up to go to a job he never liked in the first place.

He shows you his instagram page (something you had already studied extensively after that night Chaeyoung had discovered it) where he posts his original choreography and clips of the showcases he’s done. He tells you he’s been meaning to start up a YouTube channel where he can post longer clips and tutorials. The whole time he speaks rather excitedly about it all, like a little kid talking about their favorite cartoon. It’s endearing, seeing his eyes light up like stars as he talks about his goals. He even tells you he wants to open up his own studio one day, although something about the way he says it makes him seem unsure if of it’s possibility, uncertainty flooding his irises and replacing that shiny glimmer.

You tell him to go for it. You have full faith in him that he’ll have a studio to call his own in no time. You’ve seen the comments under his videos, praising him, begging him to upload step-by-step tutorials so they can learn the choreography for themselves. You have no doubt that anyone who’s serious about dance will want to train under him, you included. And so you tell him that. He’s already come this far, why stop now?

The conversation even ventures into your own career. Wherever that’s headed. You tell him you’re in your last semester of school and about you’re major in English literature. It’s something you always liked but you’ve been unsure of the kind of career you wanted to pursue. There seemed to be too many options, yet none at all. You weren’t conducive to teaching, if what happened in the 7th grade when you tried to tutor little Johnny from next door was anything to go by, then yeah – it was best you left teaching alone.

Hoseok tells you that you and his dad might get along. He was a literature teacher, though more of the Korean literature variety. He then asks you if you’d ever be an author. You like writing but how often do people become successful authors and make a decent living off of it?

“If you’re any good you’ll make it. You should let me read some of your work. I’m an honest critic, I swear.” Hoseok says. Hoseok is the last person you’ll ever let read your silly drabbles and poetic musings. Honest critic or not, there’s still something raw, vulnerable about letting anyone, let alone him, read your work.

And you hate to admit it but you had a feeling you’d value his opinion a little more than you’d like to.

You both continue to talk, your conversation surprisingly deep, as you finish up your meals. Hoseok had ended up ordering the sweet rice cakes even though you told him not to. But boy are you glad he didn’t listen. One bite in and you feel like you have died and gone straight to sticky rice heaven.

Hoseok also gets away with paying the bill, despite your loud protests against it. Although you do manage to slip him a twenty, refusing to take another lesson from him if he doesn’t keep it.

You actually had fun tonight, not something you had thought you would be saying when you first stepped into the restaurant and saw Hoseok standing in line. But now… now you don’t want the night to end.

Thankfully, Hoseok, must not either, which is why he offers to take you to a nifty little ice cream parlor that he swears has the best soft serve in town. Two desserts in one night isn’t exactly ideal, but neither of you are complaining. Now as you sit on a bench outside slurping on your quickly melting double chocolate fudge cone, you are content. The softly flowing waters of the river before you provide calming background noise to the otherwise quiet night.

“So have you applied what you learned in an actual club yet or what?” Hoseok says between licks of his mint chocolate chip ice cream.

You choke on your ice cream (you don’t know how but you do).

“Ex-scuse me?” You mumble around a bite of the cold dessert.

Hoseok chuckles at your flustered response.

“When was the last time you’ve been to a club?” he asks again.

“Um- awhile actually. And I’m not exactly thrilled to go back.” Your surprised Chaeyoung hasn’t dragged you out to yet another club in weeks. She must be busy. That or she’s just giving you time to get settled with these lessons before she forces you onto a club dance floor.

“You should go back. See if you’ve improved at all.”

“Well I better have or you���re a terrible teacher and I want my money back.”

He just shakes his head rather than dignifying your comment with a response.

“So tell me,” he begins, “What’s the real reason you decided to take my lessons?”

“Huh?” You tilt your head in confusion.

“You heard me. You can’t just be taking lessons because ‘you want to learn how to dance in a club.’ I had a feeling you were lying when you first told me but I didn’t want to push it. So tell me, why are you really here?” He queries, eyes squinted at you in suspicion.

Try as you might to deny it, he’s onto something. Although this whole thing had started because Chaeyoung suggested that you get lessons to get over your fear of club dancing, perhaps you definitely had ulterior motives when you initially agreed. You guess Hoseok was starting to catch on that you can’t just be taking his lessons for something as silly as dancing in a sweaty, grimy club. And he was right. So you tell him the truth.

“My dad, he was in a group when he was younger. He and his friends started it up expecting nothing serious to come out of it, but they eventually started seeing some success in it. They started competing in competitions which blossomed into them winning a few. They even became back up dancers for a couple of the local artists in his town. My dad used to tell me all about his days as a street dancer and he seemed so happy then.“

You relay the story of your father’s background, a faint smile on your face as you are reminded of all those times he used to sit you on his lap and tell you all about his glory days.

"They were dancers of the popping/locking variety.” You gesture to Hoseok, him most likely being familiar with the technique. “And he wanted to make a career out of it too but, I don’t know – life happened I guess. He met my mom and pretty soon I was here.” Hoseok is nodding along, paying attention to your every word as you tell him your family history.

“It was an unplanned pregnancy but my parents weren’t upset or anything. They just… adjusted. My dad had to put his dream on hold to support us, especially with his father-in-law breathing down his neck that he needed to get a real job to support my mom and me. So, he eventually settled down. He made decent money, so he never really complained but he never did get back to dancing. Not really.”

You shrug thinking about your childhood with your father. He was the best dad, always there for you, making you laugh, but more often than not you would spot something somber floating in the depths of his eyes. Something just below the surface, but subdued enough to make you believe you needn’t worry.

“But as long as I remember he was always dancing.” You remember those early mornings, waking up to soft music playing as your dad danced with your mom in the kitchen, her shrieking at him to stop fooling around before she burned the pancakes and, him, laughing heartily as he tried to coax her into a swing.

“He loved it. Dancing was his passion. Kinda like you really.” You pause to look at him.

“He tried to get me into it but I never took, obviously. I guess that’s why, now, I’m trying to pay homage to him. I don’t know it sounds stupid but, I want to connect with him in some way and dancing is the only way I know how.”

You didn’t mean to tell Hoseok this much about your personal life but once you started talking, it was hard to stop. Hoseok was a surprisingly good listener, but more than that you realized that it had been a long while since you talked about your father. You figured that you needed to get this off your chest and Hoseok generously lended an ear to listen.

Hoseok makes sure your looking at him before he says, genuinely, “It doesn’t sound stupid. Not at all.”

His words strike a chord in you and you feel grateful that you joined him tonight.

He holds eye contact with you for long after he finishes speaking. It’s too quiet, the only sounds you hear are the gentle pitter patter of the water before you, and you swear you can hear both of your breaths, slow and heavy. He holds your gaze and… did his eyes drop down to your lips or are you hallucinating? If they did it happens too fast for your soju-riddled brain to comprehend because now his eyes (if they ever left) are back up at yours. His stare is intense, too intense, which is why you find yourself snapping out of your haze and averting your eyes to your rapidly melting ice cream.

Hoseok clears his throat, adding some much needed noise to the otherwise tense atmosphere.

“Your dad sounds a lot like me actually. Mind if we switch?” he jokes.

You smile, grateful that the awkwardness from earlier starts to dissipate. “I’d love to but I don’t think it’d be much of a fair trade. My dad died a couple years ago.”

Hoseok winces, his attempt at lightening the mood unsuccessful, seeming to have worsened it instead. “I’m sorry to hear that. He seemed like a really great guy.”

“It’s no biggie. He was sick and we knew he would have to pass eventually. And, you’re right, he was a great guy. I have a feeling you guys would’ve gotten along well. Could’ve even given you a couple pointers.”

“Ha ha, very funny. I guess you’re not wrong though. I would’ve loved to learn from a guy like him.”

You smile. “God, now I wish you were his son. You would’ve made a way better student than I did, that’s for sure.”

Hoseok laughs. “Like I said, offers still up to take my old man. He probably would’ve loved another literature nerd to geek out with over similes or metaphors or whatever the hell you all get excited over.”

“I’m more of a sucker for descriptive imagery myself, but to each their own.”

Hoseok snorts around his final bite of his ice cream cone, thoroughly done with this conversation. You continue to lick your ice cream happily, pleased that you got the last word in.

 Hoseok drops you off back at Seokjin’s restaurant to pick up your car and from there you both part ways.

“I had fun tonight. We should do this again sometime.” he says as you try to fish your keys out of your purse.

Your heart flutters at the prospect of Hoseok wanting to spend more time with you. Finally locating your keys you unlock your car, sending Hoseok a response over your shoulder.

“We should. I severely underestimated you Jung Hoseok. You can be good company when you want to be.”

Salacious smile on his face, he pokes his head through the open window of your seat, his forearms resting against the car door.

“I’m really not that bad once you get to know me ice queen. I just had to get you to warm up to me. I can be good from time to time, but only if you let me.” He winks.

Heat rushes to your cheeks so incredibly fast you’re surprised you don’t pass out from it. God he’s unbelievable. Just when you think you’re getting over this silly crush he starts this to fuck you up all over again.

You groan audibly. “It was nice while it lasted. Goodnight, Hoseok.” you say tersely.

“Night, __! ” He calls cheerily over his shoulder and you watch him incredulously for a little bit before you drive off, headed straight for home.

When you do get home you run over the events of your night from beginning to end, not believing that it started out with you worrying that your next meeting with the dance instructor would be awkward.

You are grabbing some pajamas from your bottom drawer when you hear your phone ping with the alert of a new message.

You grab your phone from its place on the bedside table to read it.

Chae: Suit up, we’re going dancing bb.

You: When?

Chae: This Saturday. And bring your dancing shoes cause I’m inviting a few special guests.

You: Special guests???

Chae: You’ll see ;)

You don’t know what Chaeyoung is up to but you’re certain you don’t like the sound of it. Whatever she’s planning you push it to the back of your mind as you get ready for bed.

And once you do finally settle into the soft sheets of your heavy duvet, it takes you longer than expected to fall asleep. Because all you can think about is how soft Hoseok’s lips would feel pressed against yours if he had kissed you earlier on that park bench. How delicious his taste would’ve been, minty fresh and slightly sweet. How thoroughly you would have wanted his tongue to explore the recesses of your own mouth.

And suddenly you were awake, the growing wetness between your legs an undeniable indication of your desire.

Fucking hell, one little almost-kiss already had you reaching for that tiny motorized bullet in the top drawer of your nightstand. You were screwed.

.

.

.

Taehyung and Yoongi are not what you were thinking when Chae said you’d be having 'special guests’. Yoongi technically didn’t even count as a 'special guest’ anyway since he was working tonight.

And Taehyung came with you guys to the club almost always. You think the only time he skipped was when he had an extremely important final early the next day, but even then, it was like pulling teeth trying to convince him to stay home and get some rest. But when you mention this to Chaeyoung, she tells you they are not the 'special guests’ she was talking about.

You three sit by the bar, chatting with Yoongi while he polishes glassware, occasionally dipping away to attend to real customers. This routine is normal for you, but somehow tonight feels different.

As the night goes on you get more and more wary, truly scared of what Chaeyoung has planned. Everyone’s acting strange. Chae, especially. Sure, you guys make small talk but it’s weird because you all never make small talk. At least small talk this awkward and stilted. Yoongi asks you how your lessons are going and you respond truthfully.

“Kicking my ass but I’m no bitch so I’m getting through it.”

Taehyung jumps in too, trying to make chit-chat about how your last semester at school is treating you. Usually you like talking to Taehyung about these sorts of things. He’s a good listener and gives you surprisingly good advice for someone who’s supposed to be younger than you. But tonight he seems distracted, like he’s only half listening. His eyes dart around the room several times before they inevitably fall back on you, pretending as if they never left.

They aren’t immediately jumping up to gyrate and dry hump the air either, which is also strange. Everyone seems like their waiting on something to happen, yourself included. The difference being that they know what that something is and you don’t. The suspense is killing you.

It was 10pm on a Saturday and you would much rather be at home but you’d be a fool to mess with your friends’ plans. You figured it would be a typical night out. It wasn’t.

For one, Chaeyoung had taken extra care to pick out your outfit for tonight, refusing to let you go with your usual selection of comfort over fashion. She even went as far as asking Taehyung (the resident fashion expert) to stop by a little early to give his opinion. Before you even got a foot out of the house, you were poked and prodded at, not a single hair on your head left out of place.

Now as you sat there in your little red number, you couldn’t help but wonder what all the fuss was about. Last time you checked it wasn’t your birthday, or a special occasion so what on earth was making them act so strange?

But when you spot a familiar head of light brown hair in the crowd you begin to realize.

“You invited Jimin?” you whisper-shout over the loud music to Chae. You can see that said head of light brown hair is making his way towards your section of the bar.

The smile originally directed at the brunette man making his way towards you all immediately disappears at your accusation.

“No. Must be coincidence.” She’s says before flagging Jimin down with an enthusiastic wave of her hand.

Coincidence my ass,you think. Jimin reaches you guys, that friendly smile on his face as he greets you all with a hug. He seems to already be familiar with Taehyung, apparently. This comes as a shock to you and go to ask Chaeyoung if they’ve all been going clubbing without you but something catches your eye. One more head is rapidly approaching your growing group.

“Jimin, what the fuck? I turned around for a second and you were gone.” Says the new visitor.

Jimin turns around to face his friend. “I told you to follow me. Why didn’t you listen?” While they argue you turn your attention to Chaeyoung, that conniving little–

“You invited Hoseok?” You grit out through clenched teeth, doing your best to control your volume so the red-head doesn’t hear you.

When she doesn’t do anything but smile coyly in response you turn your head to Taehyung and Yoongi.

“And you two, you knew didn’t you?”

Taehyung shrugs sheepishly. “Sorry ___. I wanted to tell you but she threatened to cut up all my button-downs if I did.”

“No excuse,” you say mercilessly, then turn to Yoongi who is still polishing that shot glass even though it’s been clean for the past 5 minutes now.

Yoongi looks up, eyebrows perked up at you as if to say, ’oh, you’re talking to me now?’ “I wasn’t threatened.” he says, expression bored. "Chaeyoung told me everything that happened starting with the day you first met him in that grocery store. When she told me her plan I was all in. You need some dick ___. Desperately.“

Taehyung snorts a laugh at that, trying (and failing) to hold it in when you glare at him. Chaeyoung lets out a full belly laugh not caring about the death glare you’re shooting her right now.

You turn back to Yoongi, giving him a taste of your medicine too. "What? I’m only stating the truth. ___, I love you but I can’t have you hanging around me the entire night. My tips were starting to dwindle and,” he leans in as if to tell you some big secret, “this may sound selfish but I like money just a teensy bit more than you.”

You pout childishly at him, about to complain that he’s a terrible friend but you freeze when you hear your name come from the taller of the two men beside you.

“___? Is that you?”

You take a moment before you look at him to calm yourself down. You saw him yesterday and that went fine, just relax. You don’t know why you’re so nervous. Maybe it was the fact that you were seeing him in a club setting, a place you were never really confident in to begin with.

You breathe in and out one last time hoping to god no one notices how long its taking you to gather yourself before you can respond.

But once you do look to Hoseok all your efforts to calm yourself down go to waste because holy fuck does he look good. A long sleeve button-up adorns his frame, the sleeves rolled up to expose his toned forearms. Tight black jeans emphasizing his finely toned legs. Even his hair is styled differently, the tousled red strands now slightly wavy, the curls cascading down his forehead prettily.

You must be taking too long to say something because the next thing you know, Jimin is speaking.

“Oh yeah, it is.” He looks to your friends. “I didn’t know you guys were friends with ___. She takes lessons with Hoseok at the studio. Right, 'seok?” He bumps Hoseok’s shoulder, which jolts him out of whatever haze he was in.

He shoots Jimin a glare, rubbing the spot where he bumped him tenderly. “Uh, yeah. I didn’t know you would be here. Jimin didn’t say he was meeting up with anyone when he dragged me along.”

Hoseok introduces himself to your group of friends, although you’re pretty sure he needs no introduction. Clearly Chaeyoung filled everyone in on exactly who he is.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys but I’m gonna go dance. Jimin? Taehyung? Care to join me?”

Jimin barely even gets out a “Sure, why not?” before Taehyung and Chae drag him off to the dance floor.

And then there were three. You turn to Yoongi, thankful for his presence. “Yoongi do-”

“Save that thought, I’ve got to attend to those paying customers over there. Be right back.” Yoongi says, heading towards the couple a few barstools down. They seem to be far more interested in their own conversation that you doubt they were even trying to get the bartender’s attention at all.

So far you’ve concluded two things from being out tonight. 1) You were friends with conniving little snakes, and 2) you needed new friends.

You hear Hoseok pulling out the seat next to you and you’re nerves shoot up all over again due to the fact that the two of you are all alone.

His eyes are back on you again and you feel self-conscious, not used to wearing something so revealing, especially in front of him. His eyes appraise you, and you swear you can feel your gut doing backflips inside you.

“You look great, you know. Red looks good on you.” Hoseok says genuinely.

“Thanks.” You give him a once over. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

”'Too bad?’ Wow, you really know how to compliment a guy, don’t you?“ He says but you can tell he’s not offended by the way he chuckles lightly at your comment.

You both fall into a comfortable silence, you sipping greedily on the drink in front of you as a way to calm your nerves. You’ve never been an avid drinker, but apparently tonight you are. Before you know it you’re a little past tipsy, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through your body like a reassuring blanket. Your nerves are put to the test again, however, when Hoseok decides to break the silence.

“About the other night, I’m sorry again I had to cancel our lesson. My sister’s wedding is coming up and mom wanted everyone home for a family dinner. I wasn’t flaking on you or anything, I swear.”

You quickly swallow down the rest of the liquor in your mouth so you can talk. “Oh my god, don’t worry about it. Especially if it was a family thing. Like I said, I wasn’t even upset when you had to cancel.”

It was a lie. You were upset but not because you wouldn’t get to dance. More like you would be missing out on another chance to spend time with him.

“You keep saying that but I doubt it. It’s funny, I didn’t know you’d be out tonight. I wasn’t even planning on going anywhere but Jimin insisted I tag along. This must be fate.” he says.

You laugh internally. Fate. If you call the three stooges grinding up on each other a few feet away from you gate, then sure. Regardless, you tilt your head slightly in confusion, asking him what he means anyway.

He looks at you. “Well, this is your first night out in a while right? The other day I joked you should apply what you learned at a club but it’s not so much of a joke now. Come on, let’s see if you remember any of what I taught you.” At that he stands, taking your hand in his in an attempt to pull you off your stool.

You don’t budge, rooted to your spot like a stubborn weed in the grass.

“No thanks. You go, have fun. I’ll keep the drinks company.” You reach for your fruity concoction, taking a sip rather than obliging Hoseok’s requests for you to stand.

“Come onnnn, it won’t be that bad. If anyone laughs I’ll defend you, you’re all equally bad in my eyes, don’t worry.”

“Wow that makes me feel ten times worse, I’m definitely not going anywhere now.” You mutter. But when he pouts at you slightly, his eyes pleading for you to come join him, you relent, sliding off your stool and tugging your dress down before it can ride up any further on your thighs. You sigh. You figured you have to do this eventually.

If it wasn’t Hoseok you have no doubt your friends would come looking for you sooner or later. And they wouldn’t be as nice as Hoseok had been. He smiles victoriously when you stand, keeping your hand in his as he leads you out to an empty space on the dance floor.

You see your friends plus Jimin couple feet away caught up in their own world as usual.

Hoseok stops somewhere in the middle turning you to face him. He starts you out with something simple, guiding your movements as you sway along to the beat.

“See? Nice and easy, nothing crazy.” he reassures you.

But then he’s spinning you around, your back facing his front. When his hands glide around your waist you can feel the blood in your body as it makes it way to your cheeks. He molds you to him, brushing his hands down your arms before their landing firmly on your hips again.

Oh this guy, he thinks he’s such a fucking tease doesn’t he? Well, two can play at that game. The music is suggestive, sensual, similar to what you danced to back in his studio.

You can do this, you think. You roll your hips back experimentally, feeling a surge of confidence enter you when his breath hitches.

“Like this?” You say innocently, although your movements are anything but. “Am I doing okay?”

You try again, more firmly this time, making sure that he feels every inch of you against his crotch. The soft moan he releases by your head is music to your ears.

“More than okay.” Another groan when you grind down against him again.

“You’re full of surprises aren’t you?” he asks almost breathlessly.

Watching him come undone like this is nice, you think. This… this you can do. Especially since each and every reaction you coax out of him just makes you feel that much bolder.

His hands come around to clutch you more firmly, securing one arm around your waist while his other remains attached to your hip, pressing you closer against him.

“Just a few,” you whisper, loud enough for him and him alone to hear.

He’s burying his head in your neck, the skin there soft and exposed and inviting. Your scent is so potent there, and as he drags his nose across your skin he can’t help but want a taste.

You whine, ready to just start begging him to drag his tongue along your already when you feel his lips on your skin. They’re soft at first, peppering your skin with light, tentative touches. But soon enough his lips are lingering. His kisses longer, sloppier. The open-mouthed kisses he trails across your neck are so hot and searing it causes the rest of your body to tingle with undeniable desire. You crane your neck even further if that’s possible, wanting him to mark up every inch of your bare skin. He engulfs your earlobe into his mouth, groaning into your ear when he speaks.

“You taste so sweet.”

You moan in response, too caught up in how good his tongue feels against the shell of your ear to say much else.

And then he’s trailing kisses down your jaw, all the way to your lips only to capture them in between his own in a kiss.

He groans into it, the taste of your lips even sweeter than your skin. But your twisting awkwardly to try and reach him properly and noticing your discomfort, he maneuvers your body in his arms, turning you to face him. Your arms immediately encircle his neck and his lock tight on the dip in your lower back, inching dangerously close to the curve of your ass. You devour his lips like a woman starved, and he does the same, thrusting his tongue between your lips, the both of you eager to explore each other.

Too soon he’s pulling away, and you chase the feeling, pouting when he doesn’t immediately press his lips to yours again. He’s panting breathlessly, smiling at your cute reaction.

“God what are you doing to me.” He presses his forehead against yours, rolling his hips up against you and that’s when you feel it.

A prominent bulge presses against the thin material of your dress and you feel a new wave of arousal hit you at the promise of what that holds. You press your legs together in an effort to relieve some of the ache between your thighs, unintentionally rubbing up against Hoseok in the process.

“Fuck,” he groans from deep within his throat. “I need to get you alone.” You nod enthusiastically, too out of it to say anything. All you know is that you need him, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable.

Pressing one last kiss to your lips, Hoseok pulls away, dragging you behind him as he makes his way through the crowded bar.

After brushing past a crowd of sweaty drunken club goers, he’s finally pulling you into a co-ed bathroom, locking the door and pressing you against it. He wastes no time, attacking your lips again so you feel the full force of his mouth against yours. The kiss is deeper this time, tongues colliding sloppily and just the barest hint of teeth that makes you eager for more.

Your hands glide up his chest, the shirt you had admired earlier quickly becoming a obstacle in your desire to feel his bare skin against your palms.

You pull away slightly, just enough to murmur against his lips,

“Off.” You tug at his shirt.

He chuckles lowly, placing several quick pecks against your lips before he’s stepping back from you.

“Eager are we?” he teases, unbuttoning his shirt at a snail’s pace just to piss you off, no doubt.

You roll your eyes because yes, you are fucking eager.

Instead of responding you yank him back to you, swatting his hands away so you can undress him yourself. Once his shirt is all the way undone you take the opportunity to run your hands up and down his toned torso. Jesus, all those hours at the studio did him well. You’re distracted by his chest so it takes you off guard when his lips are suddenly back on you. His kisses are not as frantic this time but just as passionate.

You take your time exploring him. He breaks the kiss, moaning audibly when you graze his nipples with your thumbs. Sensitive is he? You smile, taking that information and filing it away for later.

But your moment of power is fleeting, however, because the next thing you know he is hiking your dress up, his hands kneading the supple flesh of your ass.

“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” One hand pushes your dress up over the curve of your ass while the other traces the delicate lace of your cotton panties.

“Ever since that day you sat on my lap and grinded on my thigh like a horny little slut.”

You moan at a combination of his words and the fact that he’s now cupping your clothed sex. You’re so wet and there’s no doubt he can feel you soaking through to your panties. But you don’t care. He’s massaging his fingers over your clit just right and ohmygod you don’t want him to stop.

“Or maybe it was before that. Who knows. But all I can think of lately is how pissed that sharp mouth of yours makes me and how much I want to fill it up.”

Good god you needed him to shut up. It’s embarrassing how close you are to coming and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

It’s funny because if anyone asked, 'deny, deny, deny’ had been your motto when it came to Hoseok. But once it actually came down to it you had to admit that you’ve wanted him for a while now too.

But now that you finally have him, you’re not at all sure what the hell you signed up for.

In a flash he’s down on his knees, yanking your panties down with him as he goes. You gasp, shocked by the sudden rush of cool air on your hot core, but that doesn’t stop you from snaking your hands through his hair, spreading your legs a little wider for his ease of access.

When two of his fingers meet the slick heat of your pussy your breath hitches, already overwhelmed by the sensation of his fingers on you.

“I wonder,” Hoseok begins eyes concentrated on the dewy pink of your folds as they greedily engulf his digits. “Do you taste just as good down here as you do up there?” His fingers glide up and down your pussy, scissoring your clit between his index and middle finger. So close to where you want him to be but not quite there yet.

However, he doesn’t wait long to give you what you want because all of a sudden his tongue is on you, the flat of his tongue pressing up against your clit as he swipes one long stripe up your sex. You moan wantonly, clutching the hair on top of his head even harder than before.

He groans at your tight grip, inadvertently producing vibrations against you that make you moan louder with pleasure.

“Mm, so much better.” He places several kisses against you, making his way to your aching hole.

You throw your head back when he scissors his tongue into you, a soundless moan leaving your open mouth. You worry when you feel him retract his tongue, but it’s only so he can push two fingers up into you, stretching your hole so he can thrust his tongue deeper into you.

“Fuck,” you whine desperately.

“How’s this? Am I doing okay?” He mirrors your words from earlier, and you’d scold him for teasing you but you can’t, not when he’s lapping at your cunt like it’s his last meal.

“Fuck Hoseok,” you pant, “I can’t… I need…” He draws back, catching your eyes with his as he mouths at your pussy, “What? Hmm?” Another lick, and you whimper, knees buckling.

“What is it you need?” He whispers darkly.

His gaze is so intense but you’re caught in limbo, wanting to look at him but not being able to with the way your eyes keeping fluttering shut at his ministrations. You cry out when the tip of his tongue flicks hard against your clit, punishment for not having answered him.

“Shit I-I need you.”

He groans, adjusting the pressure against your clit to soft kitten licks, yet the two fingers shoved up your pussy keep a solid rhythm.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Please…” you writhe against the wall, holding tight to his soft locks for leverage.

“Please what? Use your words.”

“Please…” you cry out when he gives a particularly harsh thrust inside you. “M-make me cum.”

He groans, resuming a harsh pace against your core. Everything is wet, his lips sloppy and shiny from a combination of your juices and his saliva. His fingers are relentless, pistoning into you and not letting up until you’re cumming around his digits.

Your orgasm builds in the pits of your stomach, a slow burn that culminates in an explosion of pleasure that has you moaning his name in satisfaction.

“Fucckk. Hoseok, just like that.” You’re a whimpering mess at this point, you’re hips undulating against his tongue as you ride out the last few waves of your high.

He laps up your juices eagerly, not stopping until he’s tasted every part of you. You watch him, satiated, as he gives your cunt a few last licks before he’s rising and capturing your lips in a kiss. You return his kiss eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck and tasting yourself on his tongue.

He pulls away from you, smiling endearingly.

“You were so loud.” he comments.

“And who’s fault was that?!” you hit his chest playfully. “You’re lucky the music out there is so loud or else you would have gotten us both kicked out,” you say.

He laughs at your faux outrage. “It would’ve been worth it,” he mutters lowly.

“Mmm,” you hum pressing against him again for another kiss. “Maybe.”

You’re body is molded to his, and you can feel every inch of him against you, including the hard erection pressing against your upper thigh. You snake your hands down his bare chest, past his toned stomach, until one hand is cupping the tent in his pants. He groans lightly. You apply more pressure, gripping him more firmly so that you can feel the outline of him over his clothes. You tug at him lightly.

“Don’t tease.”

Smirking against his lips, you decide to spare him. He’s suffered long enough having to endure being this hard for so long. Determined hands cease their assault on his clothed cock and reach for his belt buckle, undoing the clasps that keep him hidden from your view.

The whole time he watches you with bated breath and lust in his eyes, anxious for you to get your hands on him. Once his pants are undone you tug him close to you by the belt loops, before one hand is reaching into his boxers to feel him. Your hands thread through neatly trimmed pelvic hair before they land on him, full and thick and hard, and he groans.

“Oh god, please please don’t tease.“

You giggle at how desperate he sounds but only squeeze your hand around his shaft harder, taking the time to explore him before you absolutely ruin him. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but there’s enough of him to make you literally salivate at the thought of him fucking you open and taking you raw.

When you get to the tip there’s a bead of pre-cum forming, a patch of his underwear already wet with how much he had been leaking before. You use that to coat the rest of him, the added lubrication making it easier for your hand to glide up and down his shaft.The whole time you observe his reactions, his eyes shut tight in pleasure giving you the freedom to watch him unrestricted.

He gasps when your thumb dips down into his slit, his eyes screwing shut, brow furrowing deeply.

But he doesn’t have long to revel in your touch because all to soon you’re removing your hand from him completely. His eyes shoot open at you, confusion etched across his features. Cute.

You take pity on him, giving his lips a quick peck before you drag the same hand that was just on his cock up to his lips. Tracing his bottom lip with your thumb, you tug down on it until he’s opening his mouth for you. You take this opportunity to stick two fingers into his warm mouth, and he accepts them greedily, sucking and coating your digits in his saliva.

You watch him entranced, and he looks back at you intently, but you pull your fingers back once you feel like they have been sufficiently coated. For good measure, you lick a line up your palm before your hands are back on him again.

This time, when you wrap your hand around him, the glide is much easier due to your dual saliva. Hoseok keels forward, his forehead landing on your shoulder as you stroke his cock.

“Does that feel good?” You ask.

“Yes, yes. God please keep going.” he pants next to your ear.

And you do keep going, if only to coax those cute sounds out of him further. Your hand is moving at a punishing pace, your grip deathly, but you don’t let up even when your arm feels like its going to fall off with the amount of effort you’re exerting.

You want him to cum. You want to make him feel as good as he made you feel just moments prior. And you’re doing a pretty damn good job if his whimpers next to your ear are any indication.

“Fuck, gonna make me cum.” he pants out.

At that declaration, you stroke harder in an effort to get him to cum faster. It’s only when your fingers graze his tip one last time that he is done for, his orgasm hitting him full force and coating your hand in thick ropes of white.

You slow your pace, milking him of all he’s got as he comes down from his high. He slows his breathing beside you, his harsh pants eventually subsiding into even breaths. He pulls back to face you.

“I can’t believe you. You really just made me cum in my pants like a fucking sixteen-year old.” he says, disbelief etched across his face.

You laugh, removing your hand from his underwear. “It’s payback for eating me out so well I couldn’t think straight. You should be thankful it wasn’t my mouth.”

His eyes darken at that, but you quickly shut him down. “Get your head out of the gutter, there’ll be plenty of time for that but right now we need to get cleaned up. The guys are probably wondering where we are.”

“Sorry but you can’t just say stuff like that and not expect me to get excited… and… no that’s not helping either.” In the midst of him talking you had brought you’re cum-drenched hand up to your mouth to suck off Hoseok’s seed that hadn’t remained in his pants.

You smile sheepishly but continue cleaning off your hand anyway, too concerned with the taste of him to worry about his growing arousal.

You turn around to wash your hands in the sink there while Hoseok buttons himself back up behind you. You shoot him a smile of gratitude in the mirror when he reaches down and adjusts your dress back over your ass for you.

Drying your hands, you help Hoseok fix the last few strands of his hair that was out of place before you two deem that you are acceptable enough to be seen in public again. And by acceptable you mean: it’s obvious you two hooked up but hey, at least you had the decency to try and cover it up.

Hoseok and you make your way back to you’re little area of the bar to see that Chaeyoung, Jimin, and Taehyung have taken a break from dancing. You don’t even make it all the way there before you see Chaeyoung’s resulting smirk and waggle of her eyebrows at the sight of a disheveled Hoseok and you.

You mouth out a “Shut it” to her and hope she knows how to read lips.

“Where have you two been? We came back and you weren’t here.” Taehyung asks, seemingly none the wiser to you and Hoseok’s whereabouts.

“Dancing Tae, isn’t that what people do at clubs?” you say quickly.

“The horizontal tango maybe,” you catch Chae muttering under her breath and you kick her under the table in retaliation.

Thankfully, that conversation is cut short when Yoongi drops by again, striking up conversation about some drunk asshole he’s debating on whether he should call security on or not.

You try your best to act natural, and so does Hoseok, but a lingering stare from Jimin has you thinking he must be a little more perceptive than Tae (or less drunk). You feel like you can breathe again when he finally relents, attention turned back the animated bartender behind the counter. .

.

.

The next day you are at work, physically, yes, but mentally? Checked out the moment you got here. You’ve been thinking about Hoseok’s mouth on you all day, the pretty sounds he made when he was desperate, the face he pulled when he was orgasming under your-

The phone rings and you’re pulled yet again from your fantasies. It was for the best. You really needed to focus and get back to work.

You pick up the phone, putting on your 'professional voice’ and getting your computer ready to set up an appointment for one of the clients.

You’re not even halfway through you’re greeting when you hear the sound of your best friend on the line.

“Chae?!” You whisper shout, trying not to draw attention to yourself. “Why are you calling me at work?!”

“You know why. If you answered you’re texts it wouldn’t have to come to this, now would it?” She whisper-shouts back, letting you know that she’s probably supposed to be working too.

You saw the texts (so many texts) but you had yet to answer her. You didn’t see the point when she had known what happened, you knew what happened, why did she want to coax it out of you so badly?

“ Chae, please. I have shit to do and you can’t call me up at work like this- I’ll talk to you later, bye-” You’re about to hang up when you hear her noises of protest on the other line. You sigh.

“Wait, wait, hold on. At least tell me this… was it good?”

You let a smile break out onto your face, nodding your head in confirmation.

“Yes.” you leave it at that..

She squeals into the phone and you can hear that she wants to try to weed some more information out of you but you are already saying goodbye. The last thing you need is your friend thinking she’s some kind of matchmaker.

You go on about your day more focused this time, thankfully. But the excitement of the morning returns when you get a text message around noon.

Hoseok: hey :)

You: hi

Hoseok: how are you?

You: I’m swell, doing absolutely wonderful on this fine day. And you good sir?

Hoseok: haha, very funny

You: Lol, how are you gonna ask ‘how am I’ when you literally ate me out like you did last night. You should already know. 

Hoseok: I didn’t think it’d be polite to tell you right off the bat that I’m still thinking of your taste on my tongue. Since this morning actually

Well that shuts you up momentarily.

Hoseok: What’s wrong? No more jokes?

You: Some of us are at work you know

Hoseok: I’m at work. Teaching a group of 10 year olds right now. Doesn’t mean I’m not imagining bending you over and fucking you into the mirror of my studio

It takes you a while to respond because that is certainly something you’ve imagined before

You: Gross. Such dirty thoughts in front of the kids?

Hoseok: Relax, their on water break rn

You: Still

Hoseok: Anyway, I wanted to ask you something

You: Shoot

A few minutes pass where you see those same three dots appear and disappear, as if their mocking you.

Hoseok: my sister’s having her wedding rehearsal is coming up. I was wondering if you could come with me

Hoseok: I’m not forcing you, or anything! I could just really use someone there with me to take get my relatives off my back. If they see I’m with someone they’re less likely to hound me

Hoseok: And not 'with someone’ like that! As friends, I mean.

He’s inviting you to a family event?

You: Can’t you take Jimin or one of your other friends with you?

Those three dots appear and disappear for a few seconds but it takes significantly less time for him to respond this time.

Hoseok: Can’t. Jimin gets motion sickness, Jungkook’s busy with school and Seokjin would just be a mistake. You’re my last hope. Please.

He sends the puppy-dog face emoji and you are a goner.

You: Fine, when is it?

Hoseok: Really? Great, thank you so much.

Hoseok: And it’s this Saturday but we have to head up there a couple days early, so maybe Thursday night?

You: I’m using my sick time for this so it better be worth it

Hoseok: It will be. I’ll make it up to you I promise ;)

You don’t respond after that because you really do have to get back to work now. You two have been friends for a couple months now and now you’re meeting his family. As friends, you remind yourself.

This whole one-eighty in your relationship with Hoseok had been nothing more than a friends with benefits situation. Right? Is that what you wanted? Yes. Maybe. It could be? You weren’t sure.

The only thing you were certain about right now is that you had to go home and start packing for a weekend trip away to meet your friend’s (with benefits) parents.

It was going to be an eventful three days you’d come to find out.

[nad-zeta]

Match up 😉

I am the bubbly cuddly kind of girl in the group who has a really good sense of humor and try to show sass tho filled with adorableness (YEA IM ADORABLE WAT WILL U DO BOUT IT)-w- your partner in crime. riding horse? FULL SPEEDDD pulling pranks? Ayee lemme in fam. sing a song?? MAMAAAAA OHOHOHHoHoH~~~~ everyones perverted straightforward darling, got a problem u cant solve? no sweetened words babe I will throw the facts o yo face I AM KAWAII thats wat everyone says tho #youdontgettojudgeme my teachers says I will be successful in life due to my out of the box thinking, leadership skills and academic performance YOAAAIIIIIII MO DAO ZU SHI BUNNNIIIIIESSSSSSSSSSSS(give me nobu not kenshin plz) HUUUUUGGGGSSSSS CUDDLESSSSSSS ANIME BOYS?? *SHHHHRRRIIIEEEEEKKKKK SO PERVERT EVEN SATAN BE BLESSING ME(welp mah parents are concerned) so single even my lips are virgin turns to glance at boys ass grabs my besties boobs quotes vines(LoOK At ThiS GrAPh~~~~~~~) overconfident, narcissistic , intelligent[?] (at least I’m a top student) but also insecured the student who reads for a week before exam and mange to get 90% marks thehehe LETS DO THE FORK IN THE GARBAGE DISPOSAL DINGDINGDINGDINH emails my English teacher ‘u’ instead of you still remain her prized student

Hi there, love! Thank you so much for the request 😃<3 I hope you are safe and well! ^0^ I hope you enjoy it, dear ^_^.  Your match just came to me, as if it were written in this very title hehe. ❤❤🔥

So obviously match you with…………… Nobunaga lol

OOOOh girl, when you first arrived in Azuchi, you entered with a bang. You walked straight into that audience hall with your head held high, ready to fight. You now stood in the center of the hall, staring Nobunaga down. The two of you were basically fighting for dominance with your glares. Nobunaga was the first to crack under the intense staring contest, giving you the smuggest grin. He proclaimed you to be their new lucky princess. You thought for a moment, shrug, and said: “Nah, I’m good, but thanx.” Everyone in the room had to do a double-take. Nobunaga’s ruby eyes gleamed in amusement. “then tell me what it is you want as a reward for saving me.” You thought for a few minutes and then responded: “Nah, no thanks needed, you seem like a chilled dude.” Nobunaga just smiles, you certainly were an outspoken, entertaining woman. He then named you as castle chatelaine. You were super happy with that, so you just beamed up at him. You went to take a seat next to Masamune, who was waving you over to him.

Once war council was over; it was only you, Nobunaga, and Masamune left in the room. You were by no means a shy gal, so you chatted freely with them like old friends. They were so surprised and amused at all your perverted jokes and couldn’t help but howl in laughter. You were truly a hilarious woman. The three of you made jokes until Mamayoshi came to remind Nobunaga and Masamune of their duties for the day; they left to do their duties, leaving you all alone now with Hideyoshi. This boi thought from the moment he saw you, that you were going to be trouble. 

However, you pleasantly surprised at him. You worked incredibly hard, and you performed your duties diligently, often exceeding all expectations of you.

Nobunaga wasted no time in spending every possible moment with you. You were such a strange woman, and he couldn’t help but feel incredibly attracted to you. It didn’t even bother him that you had now dubbed him as Nobie. Much to Hideyoshi’s disapproval. But Nobunaga loved how outspoken you were, and low key kinda liked the nickname. He loved that you were always up for any and all adventures, and often the two of you would sneak out the castle and go horse riding. You loved to ride fast and feel the wind in your hair. He really enjoyed these little horse-riding trips with you as it was always filled with laughter and jokes. He loved the fact that you laughed at all his jokes and would always have a comeback leaving the devil king howling in laughter. The two of you would always race back to the castle, to see who the better horse rider was, you always seemed to lose much to your frustration. 

You and Nobunaga truly became super good friends really fast. He would often refer to you as his partner in crime. This was due to the fact that most nights, the two of you would be huddled around a makeshift drawing of the castle planning your candy heist. The two of you would plan everything to perfection, and then after executing a perfect heist, go back to Nobunaga’s room to chomp down on your precious candy loot.

Hehe and you truly fell in love with Nobunaga. You loved how even though he was the ruler and leader of a big clan, he just had this playful fun boyish energy about him. You two goofball are also known for pulling pranks on everyone in the castle in your free time. These pranks will range from putting whoopie cushions on Hideyoshi’s chair and then making a bunch of fart jokes, to messing with the silver kitsune. Although in saying that, you only pranked the silver kitsune once and never again cause that boi is the pranking master and will get you back x2 as bad. Like one time, the two of you just replaced his shampoo with honey, a harmless prank. But boy oh boy, did this kitsune get you back. This boy placed blue dye in all the bathrooms water supply, so when you and Nobunaga went to bath that night, both your bodies were turned blue from the waist down. You honestly thought that it was Nobu’s doing so you marched your way up to his room and slammed his door open only to run into him, storming his way to your room to blame you for the same crime. That is when Mitsuhide appeared and warned both of you against pranking him again.

Even though Nobunaga really loved you, he greatly underestimated your intelligence, which is a mistake he only made one. One day while the two of you were goofing off together, you spotted the latest war map and asked him about it. He explained the war strategies and plans for the upcoming battle in great detail. You looked over the board and map, something seemed off to you. The two of you continued on your day chatting and laughing, while something tugged at the back of your mind. That night you thought about the battle plans and strategies and realized they were slightly off and that they had too little men spread across the plain to successfully win the battle. You went up to Nobunaga to explain this when he basically just rejected your whole explanation. You legit told the facts to him straight, the two of you continued to bicker until you left the room in frustration slamming the door behind you.

You hadn’t spoken to Nobunaga in 2 days, and both of you were now off to war. You helped out around the camp, cooking and patching up injured soldiers. You and Nobunaga low key were avoiding each other, and EVERYONE noticed. It was the night before the final battle, and things weren’t looking too good for the Oda forces, you made your way to Nobunaga’s tent to give him the facts once again, and again he just ignored you. The next day shit was hitting the fan big time. Sweet angel Mitsunari arrived back in the camp being super injured, and that’s when you decided it was now or never. If Nobunaga continued the stupid ass battle strategy, he was gonna get himself killed, and it was no fun being mad at a dead man. You led Mitsunari into the medical tent and handed off your duties as the head doctor to one of the helpers. You then mounted Mitsunari’s horse and rounded up his troops. The lot was honestly running around like headless chickens without leadership. 

You rode out onto the field, remembering the battle plan you wanted to implement to strengthen the Oda’s defenses, they were weakest at the point that Nobunaga took control of. You rode like the speed of light, praying that you weren’t too late. You sent a silent thanks to Sasuke as you still had his smoke bombs, he had gifted you the first night. You rode to support Nobunaga and threw down the smoke bombs, giving you the perfect cover to command your troops to file a flurry of arrows at the enemies and thus giving everyone enough time to retreat and regroup. You saw Nobunaga fighting on foot, and you rode you him, tugging him to get onto your horse.

The two of you rode back to camp. You led him to your tent and patched him up as quick as you could, while patching you up he asked about your strategy, this time listening open-mindedly. After being patched up, he left your tent and was off to the battlefield was more. That night the Oda arrived back victorious, thanks to your and Mitsunari’s improvised battle plan. Nobunaga led you to his tent and apologized for underestimating you and thanked you for your bravery and leadership. After what he had seen, he was determined to make you his queen. He cradled your head in his hands and kissed you for the first time.

The two of you, goofballs make the cutest couple. You had discovered that the devil king is a secret cuddle lover. He loves to hug and cuddle you at all times, whether you are in public or private this boi wants you in his arms. He will devote his life to keeping you happy and will shower you with love and cuddles from sunset to sunrise. He loves laying his head in your lap while you sing to him at night. It’s one of those rare moments that he feels truly at peace and can let his guard down. Well, that is until you start tickling him, then you better be in for a long night cause this boi will get revenge for this playful declaration of war. (^_-)

All and all, this softi boi love you so much from your crazy good sense of humor to your sweet soft cuddles. You are truly the yin to his yang. And the only woman worthy enough in the whole world to rule the world by his side

 Other potential matches……………..Masamune 

I hope you liked it, dear!🔥❤ 

[raventaek]

miso in love; taehyung

    The first time she met Kim Taehyung was in ninth grade, after he accidentally killed a bumble bee in the middle of a soccer game. It was a Monday with honey hues, a day when the trees in the courtyard were beginning to shed their red and orange leaves. A bee hive that hung in the school’s back entrance had begun to drop its bees to meet an insidious death.

    He had knelt on the grass, his hand holding the quivering insect with a look that could only be described as regret. The soccer ball next to him was long forgotten. She had looked down at the boy, disdain clouding her vision and lifting her lips in a grimace, “Grow up.” She mocked. 

    Looking back now, he said nothing, but she could recall the pink dust that surfaced his cheeks. The admiration that glossed his dulcet brown eyes, watching her retreating back. Taehyung has had a crush on her since. 

    With only a year left of college, she still does not understand. Taehyung sat across her, using his chopsticks to make a smiley face in his miso ramen. “I almost had it!” He released another contagious giggle, pink lips forming his signature rectangle smile. [Name] chortled, taking a long sip from her Royal Milk tea can. 

The reason she agreed to this date was not because she constantly rejected Taehyung over the years and decided to finally give him a chance. A month ago, the cat-eyed, Chanel No. 5 smelling Kim Jennie broke up with [Name] after being on and off for six months. Jennie made it clear she only needed the love-making aspects of [Name], but [Name] had enough and stopped providing. 

Even after all this time, Taehyung has not given up.

[Name] came back to their hometown to rest from her city life in Seoul. Their reunion was an awkward interaction in the fruit aisle at their local grocery store. Taehyung didn’t seem fazed by her stuttering, even though the last time they spoke was her throwing out the ice cream he offered her, along with another date proposal. 

He looked down at his basket, taking out a pint sized [flavor] ice cream. Their eyes met as he outstretched his hand, “Let’s go on a date.” 

So, she agreed. 

“Here, let me.” [Name] took her chopsticks, slightly leaning up in her seat to pull a noodle across his miso broth. “There. A smile!” She grinned at her effort. 

Taehyung squinted his eyes, jerking his chin up, “Bro. This is the best smiley face I’ve ever seen.” He placed his chopsticks down, folding his arms across his chest, “Now I can’t eat it.” 

[Name] gave a light laugh, propping her elbow on the table and resting her cheek on her hand. Taehyung wrinkled his nose in a childish manner, before lifting up his hand to call back the waiter. As she watched him order another round of Royal Milk tea, her smile drifted to a small grin. 

She hated to admit how much fun she was having. 

They have been at it for two hours. 

Two bowls of ramen, three plates of takoyaki, and six cans of that sweet beige milk tea.

Each. 

She impulsively began picking at the stray strands of her [texture], [color] hair, “Taehyung,” She called out in a soft tone. He snapped his head back, setting the two cans down, “Don’t worry, I got you the large one-” He began. 

“No. It’s not that.” She sat up, not knowing where she was going with this. 

    [Name] inhaled sharply, “I was just going to say that . . . that I’m . . .” It was a lot harder to express herself than she thought. 

    After a couple moments, Taehyung placed his hand on top of hers. 

    She looked up at his soft, brown eyes. Not yet, she told herself. 

    “Let me pay half.”

~

    It took an argument before Taehyung let her pay 50/50. He was still pouting on their way out, but after [Name] linked arms with him, he could not stop grinning like a mad man. She noticed his eyes brighten and even had a little blush beneath his eyes. 

    The night stroked a gentle breeze on their backs. She caught herself watching Taehyung’s bright red hair dance with the wind. She quickly adjusted her eyes elsewhere. The moon was full and yellow, casting light behind fluff clouds. 

Suddenly, Taehyung stopped humming. “I need to keep you to myself for a few more minutes.” He switched his pace to the lone bench that sat beside a lamp post. 

[Name] shook her head, rolling her eyes in the process, “It’s not like we’re gonna see each other tomorrow or anything.” She was happy he suggested more time, but she couldn’t tell him that.

“We probably won’t.” He replied, matter-of-factly. [Name] glanced up at him, her eyebrows knit in confusion. 

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, before I know it, you’ll be gone for another three years.” He leaned against the bench, looking up at the long, dark sky, “And I’ll be here.” 

[Name] stared at his smooth cheek. She could feel a bit of guilt creeping in. 

Taehyung turned his eyes to her, “Don’t misunderstand me. I’m very proud of the woman you’ve become . . .” 

“O-Oh.” She blushed, bringing a loose fist to his shoulder, “You scared me there for a second. I thought I was going to have to apologize.” 

He smiled, taking her hand in his and resting them on his thigh. He turned his attention back to the sky. [Name] watched him breathe and close his eyes. And in typical Taehyung fashion, he began to hum again. 

Her heart danced around her chest. She never understood the concept of love, let alone felt it for someone else, but Taehyung was in love with her. The way he blinked when she accepted his date offer; he was expecting another rejection. 

How can someone so perfect . . . be so willing to fall for her? He surrendered to her a long time ago and she has done nothing but deny him. 

Even when she wanted to say yes. 

“Taehyung,” Her breath hitched in her throat. He hummed back in acknowledgement. She gulped, stroking her thumb over his hand, “The truth is . . . I do owe you an apology.” 

He stopped humming at that. 

He lifted his head and turned to look at her. 

“I’m sorry for being so mean to you.” [Name] whispered, her eyes beginning to slightly well up in tears, “I said yes to all of this because I knew that you would be an easy rebound, but,” She glanced around, trying to gather her thoughts as the words poured out of her mouth, “I had so much fun.” It was hard not to smile when she came to the realization. 

“[Na-” 

“No, listen to me.” The [hair color] took a deep breath, finally flickering her eyes to lock with Taehyung, “I should have said yes to you a long time ago. Maybe now, I wouldn’t be so . . . pathetic. I would actually be happy.” 

Taehyung’s eyes softened. He brought a hand to her face, long fingers tucking her hair away from her face. His touch lingered, caressing her cheek with the carefulness of an angel, “You are far from pathetic. You’re so-”

She kissed him. 

It was quick and sloppy and impulsive. She could see her lip gloss overlining his top lip.

Gasping, she covered her mouth with both her hands, “Oh, my God.” 

Taehyung stopped breathing. He didn’t say anything. He just stared at her with wide eyes. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking!” [Name] scrambled through her purse, looking for some tissues. A blush erupted her face, Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! 

. . . did he like it doe?

Thoughts ran through her head like wildfire. It took Taehyung holding her shoulders for her to snap out of it. She glanced up, shyly resting her hands over her thighs. He looked calmer than he did seconds prior. 

    “That’s all I ever dreamed of.” Taehyung said, leaning in closer. 

    “W-What?”

    “Kissing you.” 

    [Name] gulped again, slowly closing her eyes. 

    He’s loved me since ninth grade.

His lips pressed against her, slower this time. She felt a hand on her back, pulling her closer. 

    A new feeling blossomed in her chest. Something jittery and cold and warm all at once. She longed for it. She longed for him. 

    On this Fall night, she surrenders to him. 

    And Taehyung finally gets to be with the love of his life.

[rknvna]

▌:   ♚ ♔      ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯      you should see me in a  C R O W N ❜

  trc triple threat challenge, im nana  /  singing & rap (  0:33 - 1:37 )  /  dance ( 0:30 - 1:14 )

                    •                                       •                                         •

the more she watches in wait, auburn hues glued to the stage, honing in on the way each auditioner twists and ticks their limbs with purpose, vigor -- the more it causes her to wonder why she’s really here, what was her true intentions of auditioning when the prize of a contract from trc seems less than ideal.

was it soohyun’s influence? her saccharine tone perceived even through colorless texts? or maybe even daniel’s, with that boyish grin and endless praises -- maybe it was enough flattery for her to make her way to where the contest was being held.

or was this really for herself? a redemption of sorts, a way to prove to no one else but herself that she still has that je ne sais quoi that impressed recruiters from royal years ago, still has the skills that allowed them to offer her a contract. especially with the disappointment that follows rejection, one that she’s come to be familiar with within the past couple of years after failed interviews, failed auditions.

winning this contest wasn’t really her goal, she understood that it was possibly a long shot from the get-go ( could she do all three skills they were looking for? yes, of course. could she do all three skills well? now that’s a different question ), it was more about replenishing the confidence that was lost from past circumstances.

although, something pleasant, like a contract offering or even a scouting, would also be accepted as well. just, you know, a small thought that she would put out into the universe.

it’s a revelation nana has come to realize when it’s almost her turn to perform, eyes still upon whoever is up there at the current moment but too much within her head to actually pay attention to them. the past week or so since she’s decided to actually go forward with this has been filled with practice within her free time; whether it’s within the dance studio that she currently belongs to or even within her home ( and she needs to make a reminder to herself to send the neighbors below her a complimentary fruit basket for their troubles ), even going so far as to hiring a vocal coach for her singing -- because lord knows that wasn’t something that was going to get better on it’s own.

and she’s proud of the work, of her effort. but the realistic part of her knows that she can’t keep going for this dream, especially at the age of 23. especially when she’s already making strides on her own in the designer world, slowly but surely breaking her way into it. she couldn’t keep hoping for a chance -- so maybe it was a sign if nothing good came out of this. maybe it’s time to put away teenage dreams and focus on what was already going well for her as an adult.

maybe.

the woman is so caught up in her thoughts she almost doesn’t hear her name being called, that it’s her turn and it’s with a slight jump of her body that she shuffles her way on the main area of the stage. the curious eyes of the small crowd that’s gathered in front of her is nerve wracking, but the presence of tiger jk himself watching her every move is straight up intimidating.

now this, handling her nerves, was something she couldn't practice at home.

“hello! my name is im jinah, and i hope that you’ll enjoy my performance.” she bows the introduction, crimson lips pulling into a wide grin and as she moves back a couple of steps. and as if on cue, the instrumental starts, leaving her no time to sit and wonder -- she parts her lips and shows what she’s made of.

살짝 졸리네 난 앞으론 밖으로 나갈 일이 없어졌지 네가, 더 이상 나와 함께할 일이 없을 거라 말했어 it's okay, it's fine, i understand

it’s not a hard-hitting hip hop song, nothing dark with a fast rhythm and a hard flow -- it’s the exact opposite. light, almost dreamy, kind of sweet. something that fits her style, her tone, as well as who she was as a person -- there was no need for her to put on facade to show that she could fit into trc.

하지만 언제든 전화해 미안하다거나 죄책감이 들어 네 정신을 괴롭힐 때면 lean that, clean that, erase it, just erase it

and she enjoys the sing song nature of it, the rap-singing that showcases her honey sweet tone -- and before the crowd could get used to it and think that’s all she’s got, the rhythm picks up while her voice drops into something a little more deeper, more what one would expect out of a rapper.

and it’s the next verses that comes more naturally to her, where she’s able to relax a bit as she showcases her flow. it’s a bit rusty, a tad bit awkward since she can’t remember the last time that she’s actually rapped in front of people ( especially because the last time she called herself a rapper bring up bad memories ), but gives an attempt to not let it show. nana makes uses the expanse of the stage, walking around and trying to engage with the rather dry crowd in order to not showcase her awkwardness, 

the chorus hits and she’s back to singing, praying to god that her voice doesn’t crack thanks to tiger jk only being feet away from her, swaying to the sort melody that comes from the speakers as well as her lips. there isn’t too much that she can do when it comes to this song with a slow tempo, but nana tries to make the best of it, tries to show that she’s having a good time. the first portion of her audition comes to a close with a last verse of rapping, sounding a lot more smooth with her words and ending it with a couple of nods of her head and a grin. 

it was better to get the hardest part done first, after all.

she can feel her nerves leaving her as she slips off her jacket with ease, moving into position for her dance portion, the one that she felt a lot more confident in. ariana grande’s vocals fill the area as god is a woman starts to play, a small mix of the beginning to introduce the song before it jumps right her part, and allows the power that comes from her assurance flow through her and start the song.

unlike her rapping and singing, her dancing ability has never left her -- because nana hasn’t allowed it to. pole dancing kept her body limber, while dance workshops and signing up to be a regular in the dance studio has kept her at ( almost ) peak performance, popping and bending her body with such an ease that can only belong to a trained dancer. the routine is different than her usual, though -- one that has an almost contemporary flair mixed with hip hop instead of the precise movement that comes with waacking. there’s a lot more movement upon the floor and instead of worrying about all the germs and sweat that slabs have inhabited throughout the day, she focuses on her expressions; or on making sure that she’s not getting ahead of the beat.

and with a rotation of her body at the climax, she ends her audition with her face down. chest heaving from the exertion and adrenaline thrumming within her body. there’s nothing more left for her to do then to stand up and bow to the crowd and the judges, giving a light wink ( just because ) before she makes her way off the stage.

regardless of results, nana comes to realize that there’s still a performer within her. she’s still got it.

[quranreadalong]

#185, Surah 37

THE QURAN READ-ALONG: DAY 185

I know y’all don’t really wanna go through the whole Lot story again, so fortunately Allah has given us the abridged version this time around. 37:134 starts us off by stating that Allah saved Lot & Fam from the destruction of the city--“Save an old woman among those who stayed behind”, meaning Lot’s wife, who was killed along with everyone else. (That’s bad.) Mohammed again tells the Quraysh that they’ve passed by the ruins of Sodom, which serve as a warning. As I’ve said before, the exact location of Sodom and Gomorrah isn’t stated in either the Bible or the Quran. Most tafsir authors place it near the Dead Sea, possibly referencing that one Byzantine monastery; others just state it was somewhere on the route between Mecca and Syria. The Quran’s repeated insistence that the Quraysh have seen these ruins in person implies that 7th century tradition associated some specific spot with the city, but we don’t know what spot. (The ruins in question probably had nothing to do with Sodom anyway, so.)

Poor Lot doesn’t get the typical “he was good so he gets PBUHed” conclusion to his story. Instead, we move straight on to the next prophet, Jonah. Jonah has been mentioned before--the tenth surah is named after him, if you recall--but as far as I remember, this is the first time we’ll actually see his full story.

Allah sent Jonah as a prophet to some people (the city of Nineveh, according to the Bible). Jonah was not overly enthusiastic about this. 37:140-147:

he fled unto the laden ship, And then drew lots and was of those rejected; And the fish swallowed him while he was blameworthy; And had he not been one of those who glorify (Allah) He would have tarried in its belly till the day when they are raised

Then We cast him on a desert shore while he was sick; And We caused a tree of gourd to grow above him; And We sent him to a hundred thousand (folk) or more

The Islamic Jonah is basically the same as the Biblical guy. Allah says “go be a prophet”. Jonah is a weak bitch and runs away on a ship. Allah sends a giant storm upon the sea to indicate his displeasure; the sailors aboard the ship “cast lots” (a form of divination I guess) and decide that Jonah is to blame. So they throw him overboard and he gets swallowed up by some giant sea creature. Jonah realizes he’s fucked up and prays to Allah while chilling in the fish’s stomach, and Allah forgives him. So the fish.... throws him up and/or shoots him through its blowhole (if you prefer the “whale” interpretation) and he washes up on the shore. Allah provides him with shade in the form of a large gourd plant, then he finally goes to preach to the people of Nineveh, who end up believing him. All of that is from the Biblical story.

Uh... I mean, making a giant sea creature swallow some guy cuz he didn’t wanna be a prophet seems harsh, but maybe all’s well that ends well?? I dunno! I’m being nice today, so neutral. I guess.

Alright, we’re done with the prophets for now. Let’s move on to another topic. Mo is back to bitching about polytheistic traditions in 37:149-153:

Now ask them (O Muhammad): Hath thy Lord daughters whereas they have sons? Or created We the angels females while they were present? Lo! it is of their falsehood that they say: Allah hath begotten. Allah! verily they tell a lie. (And again of their falsehood): He hath preferred daughters to sons.

There are those women-hating polytheists again, them and their damn....... insistence that Allah prefers daughters to sons!!! Misogynists!

I mentioned in a previous section that (owing to a lack of surviving texts) the relationship between the gods of the pre-Islamic polytheistic pantheon is kind of unclear. Allah is said to be the father of some other deities, but evidently not all of them. Here, Mohammed implies that--according to the polytheists--Allah only has daughters, not sons. The daughters in question, named elsewhere in the Quran, are Allat, al-Uzza, and Manat. Since Mo brought this topic up, let’s look at this further. It’s time for what I’d like to call...

THE ARAB POLYTHEISM POWER HOUR

So let’s talk about some good ol’ fashioned Arab gods and goddesses of bygone days. To avoid offending anyone, they will be represented as Pokemon.

Arabs had multiple gods; some had unique roles throughout the peninsula, while others (especially more minor gods) were just defined as the protectors of a certain group or another. Various traditions, including animal sacrifice, divination, and prayers, were performed to invoke the blessings of a particular god.

The Quran tells us that the people of Mecca viewed their religion as the practice of their ancestors, and that’s why it was so important to them. It wasn’t specifically about morals or whatever--they had secular tribal customs for that. The gods were their heritage, something linking them to ancient Arab history (until Mo shat all over that).

The Islamic Allah needs no introduction, but his unevolved polytheistic form does need one.

Allah is an ancient name in the Arab pantheon. It seems to have originated with the “northern Arabs” inhabiting the deserts of Syria, Jordan, and northern Saudi Arabia; it’s referenced in records dating back to the Nabataean era, during which some Arabs were named Abdallahi, the precursor to the later “Abdallah”. Allah’s name is probably a contraction of al-ilah (the god), though it may also be related to the Aramaic word alaha.

While Arabized Christians today call their god Allah just like Muslims do, pre-Islamic northern Arab Christians tended to use the word al-ilah instead. Some people in southern Arabia also used a variant of al-ilah, while others preferred titles like Rahman or Rahmanan, meaning “the merciful”. The latter may have originally been the name of a polytheistic god, but was evidently conflated with the monotheistic god in the two centuries or so prior to Islam’s creation. Yemen was home to both Jews and Christians, as we’ve seen before, and either of those two groups could have been responsible for the inscriptions declaring Rahman the god.

But polytheists in western and northern Arabia were the main ones calling some specific god “Allah” in the pre-Islamic era--which is not surprising, since Mohammed says over and over in the Quran that the polytheists in Mecca do believe in some god called “Allah” (they just believed in other gods in addition to him, which is why Mohammed was upset). The question is who this pre-Islamic Allah was. If we assume “Allah” = “the god”, was this just a title for some other god, or was he a god unto himself? Did polytheistic Arabs believe Allah was the god worshiped by Jews and Christians? Because they wrote virtually nothing about the mythology of their religion, it’s hard to say. But we can do some guesswork.

While pre-Islamic Arabs were aware of the whole Abraham story and at least some of them were exposed to Christianity and Judaism, Mohammed’s conflation of “Allah” and the Biblical god wasn’t the word’s initial meaning. Scholars believe that the term originally just referred to the most important male deity within a particular Arab group’s pantheon, presumably with “Allat” being the most important female deity. It was an honorary title. In other words, one group’s Allah and Allat could’ve referred to different gods than another group’s Allah and Allat.

But it seems that the terms slowly began to crystallize over time, and the identities and attributes of Allah and Allat became less versatile over the years. By Mohammed’s era, Hijazi Arabs seem to have used the words to refer to specific gods who were related to each other. Allah was the father of Allat, in addition to her sisters Manat and al-Uzza. He was evidently the most powerful god of the pre-Islamic pantheon... but not necessarily the most popular one.

As we saw earlier in this surah, pre-Islamic Arabs believed that the god Allah created the heavens and earth; in surah 10, we were also told that they believed Allah gave them sustenance by making crops grow and such. So it seems pretty clear that he was seen as a creator god and general maintainer of the physical world. His role beyond that is less clear; Allah’s name occasionally shows up in earlier inscriptions with some basic prayers (of the “grant so-and-so prosperity” variety), but prayers to a bunch of other gods are way more common.

The Quran says that Arabs in Mo’s lifetime prayed to Allah sometimes--especially while on voyages over the sea--but they preferred to pray to other gods while on land. And Islamic texts make it pretty clear that Arabs devoted most of their worship to other gods. So it seems he was not viewed as a god whose primary role was to cater to humanity. He was, like, an absentee father who occasionally sent you gifts on holidays or some shit.

In Islam, Allah was conflated with the Biblical god. But it seems like this was really Mohammed’s invention, and not something that polytheists believed in. Biblical stories are basically never referenced by polytheists in either inscriptions or in Islamic texts, and polytheists seem to have never given their kids Biblical names like Ibrahim. On the other hand, 7th century Arabs were certainly well aware of the existence of both Judaism and Christianity, and it seems like they at least knew a few biblical stories and characters from those stories. (Abraham, Ishmael, Jesus, and Mary are all said to have been represented within the Kaaba in a hadith). Then there’s that weird incident from back in surah 2 that implies the polytheists of Medina maybe believed in the Jewish god, despite not being Jews? So maybe the truth is slightly more complicated: the polytheistic Allah may have been recognized as the same god as the one Jews and Christians prayed to--the polytheists just didn’t believe that he had all the attributes that Jews and Christians assigned to him (ie, polytheism = hellfire).

In fact it seems like they didn’t view Allah’s role as being focused on humanity at all. He created the world and evidently all terrestrial life in the past, and he may have been in charge of the ongoing creation of new life (which would explain the thing with the ladies in Medina). But he wasn’t sitting around listening to people’s prayers for winning a battle or finding someone to marry. His daughters handled those issues instead.

Like Allah, Allat has been around for quite a while, and her name is found in ancient Nabataean records. Names like Wahballat (gift of Allat) and Saadallat (joy of Allat) are recorded before the fourth century AD. The word “Allat” itself was used all the way back in the fourth century BC, in inscriptions related to the ancient Qedar tribe, and so Allat may be the longest-surviving name in the northern Arab pantheon. Some scholars speculate that she originated as the Arab version of the ancient Ugarite goddess Atirat (also called Elat), who was also the precursor of the Canaanite goddess Asherah, the wife of the creator-god El. If that is the case, then Arab groups who interacted with the Syrian Ugarites gradually brought the goddess south with them.

Also like Allah, Allat’s mythology and her relationship with other gods seems to have changed over time until it crystallized in later years. By Mohammed’s era, “Allat” was the name of a specific goddess worshiped in the Hijaz, with her main shrine located in the city of Taif. Her father was Allah and her sisters were al-Uzza and Manat. But it’s possible that in another version of the story, Allat was instead Allah’s wife, not his daughter. And in other versions of the story from Arabs living further to the north, Allat is instead listed as a daughter of the deity Ruda and the wife of the Nabataeans’ chief god Dushara, neither of whom seems to have been super well-known in Mo’s era (though both were evidently still worshiped by some groups, somewhere, and are mentioned in the early anti-polytheist screed Book of Idols).

Unlike Allah, Allat was a goddess explicitly concerned with human affairs, and her role in this realm seems to have been pretty all-encompassing from the first time she shows up in the records to the time of Arab polytheism’s destruction. There was a reason why people prayed to Allat more than Allah: Allat was the one who seemed to care about them. She directly intervened in the lives of humans. Allat provided the good with mercy, but punished the evil with her wrath. As such, people extended prayers and offerings to her in the hopes of earning her favor. In Robert Hoyland’s Arabia and the Arabs, the author says:

She is asked to extend solicitude and to display mercy. Of her are expected well being, ease and prosperity. Travellers pray that she might accompany them in their migrations and provide clement weather. She is entreated for protection against the enemy, vengeance on the aggressor, booty for her faithful in their raids and infliction of blindness and lameness upon whomsoever defaces their inscriptions.

Northern Arabs who came into contact with Greek culture sometimes conflated Allat with the Greek goddess Athena, who was a a personification of justice and a goddess of war. It’s likely that they shared a lot of similarities. That does not mean that Allat’s role was identical to Athena’s, though. Allat wasn’t the only Arab goddess-of-war in town.

Ibn Ishaq’s sira says that the Quraysh worshiped Allat, but they and their cousin tribe the Banu Kinana were particular devotees of the goddess al-Uzza. Her idol was apparently located in Nakhla (the place where the first deadly raid happened, if you recall), until Khalid ibn Walid destroyed it. A number of Qurayshi men were named Abdul-Uzza, including one of Mohammed’s uncles.

She is typically listed as the sister of Allat and Manat and the daughter of Allah. Some Islamic sources say she had two daughters of her own; it’s not clear if these daughters are meant to be Allat and Manat, in some variant of the story in which al-Uzza is instead Allah’s wife, or if they’re some other goddesses. Regardless, it seems she was always a member of some family of gods.

Al-Uzza was worshiped by the Nabataeans like her maybe-sister and maybe-father, though her shrines were spread throughout Arabia, from the Sinai in the west down through the Hijaz. She was sometimes paired with Dushara, like Allat, and her stone idols were frequently placed beside his. (Interestingly, al-Uzza’s stones were always larger than Dushara’s whenever they were placed together.) As always, the relationship between the two is unclear. Some texts suggest al-Uzza was Dushara’s virgin mother, like this work from a Cypriot Christian in the 4th century AD that seems to be about her:

in the idolatrous temple at Petra... they praise the virgin with hymns in the Arabic language and call her khaabu ...  and the child who is born of her they call Dusares.

But it’s possible that in earlier times, al-Uzza was instead the wife of Dushara, before maybe being supplanted in that role by Allat.... who then became the daughter of Allah in the Hijaz. Some scholars think al-Uzza was the Allat of the Nabataeans. I dunno! Turns out it’s hard as fuck to put the mythology of a religion together when that religion spans a thousand years and left behind little in the way of writing.

We at least know what her name means. Inscriptions in the city of Petra (in Jordan) refer to al-Uzza as “the mighty goddess”, which is also what some polytheists are said to have called her in Islamic texts. Her name was probably derived from the word azza, meaning “powerful”. She was not a weak goddess--and Islamic texts show the Meccans calling upon her in battle. In al-Tabari’s history, Abu Sufyan is quoted as saying that al-Uzza was on the polytheists’ side on the day of Uhud. She was that bitch.

Some scholars think that al-Uzza was conflated with the Egyptian Isis, the Greek Aphrodite/Roman Venus, or both in the northern parts of Arabia. The Isis link is a bit shaky, but the Aphrodite/Venus conflation does seem to have happened. Like Athena and Allat, this doesn’t mean that al-Uzza played the same role as either of those goddesses, though she may well have shared certain traits with them. There’s nothing to suggest that al-Uzza was particularly associated with love or lust, for example, whereas such things define Aphrodite.

But one trait that al-Uzza might share with them is perhaps an association with the stars, more specifically the morning/evening star (Venus). It’s not a sure thing, but 3rd-5th century Christian authors in the Middle East do make the connection between al-Uzza and the planet Venus. Christian authors can’t be trusted to report accurately on polytheistic traditions any more than later Muslim ones can, since both were hostile to their practices. But since polytheists didn’t really write about any of this themselves, that’s all we have to go by. And we do know that pre-Islamic Arabs attached great significance to the celestial bodies in general--the sun, moon, and stars all held spiritual meaning for them.

So taken all together, I think it’s pretty safe to say that al-Uzza was generally regarded as a powerful female member of a divine family, one who was called upon in battle and had some connection to celestial bodies.

That just leaves us with Manat. Manat is my favorite of the “sisters”, and I think she’s the most interesting. She was worshiped throughout the region, including in Mecca, but like the other goddesses, some tribes worshiped her more than others. Before Islam came around, Manat was the main deity worshiped by the two Azd branches (Banu Aws and Banu Khazraj) of Medina. Those Ghassanids who had not converted to Christianity also continued to primarily devote themselves to Manat. Ibn Ishaq says that her main shrine was near Qudayd, which is around 60 miles to the north of the modern city of Jeddah in the Hijaz. Like the others, she is found in Nabataean inscriptions, though dedications to Manat have been found all over the place, including in eastern Arabia (the modern-day UAE) as well.

Unlike Allat and al-Uzza, whose exact roles are kind of hard to pin down, we know a lot about Manat because she was associated with one particular concept throughout her entire existence. That concept is fate. Her name literally means “fate”, stemming from manaya. In this context, “fate” is essentially synonymous with death, or the inevitability of it. The phrase “struck down by fate” was a euphemism for dying--not just violent deaths, but all people’s deaths, stemming from the inescapable passage of time. So while it seems intuitive that Allat is kind of the female counterpart to Allah, I think it’s more fitting to put Manat in that role. Allah created life; Manat ended it. Both were all-powerful.

Death was inescapable and apparently final in Arab polytheism. The Quran tells us that polytheists flatly rejected the concept of resurrection as illogical. Once they died, their bodies would turn to dust and bones, and that was it. Everyone would be “struck down by fate” forever, no matter how rich they were or how good they were. This theme is found throughout the supposed pre-Islamic poetry collected by early Muslims.

It seems as though most polytheistic Arabs did not believe in a spiritual afterlife, either, beyond perhaps some vague ideas related to ghosts. (Some Muslim scholars say that pre-Islamic Arabs believed that when someone died violently and their murder was never avenged, they haunted people in the form of a spirit-owl.) There aren’t any inscriptions mentioning a place like heaven or hell, which would be very strange if they did believe in it. And the Quran tells us that they didn’t believe in a Day of Judgement and also quotes the polytheists as saying:

There is naught but our life of the world; we die and we live, and naught destroyeth us save time

But a small number of pre-Islamic poems collected in the Islamic era do mention concepts related to the afterlife. For example, one famous poem says this, which is basically identical to Islamic theology:

Do not conceal from God what is in your breast that it may be hidden; whatever it concealed, God knows all about it. Either it will be put off and placed recorded in a book, and preserved there until the judgement day; or the punishment be hastened and so he will take revenge.

That would seem to suggest.... something about the afterlife, right? Like what else would “judgement” refer to here if not some hell/heaven-type sorting activity? Well, maybe the Quran--which is mostly just an anti-polytheistic rant--isn’t an accurate reflection of pre-Islamic beliefs! On the other hand, these pre-Islamic poems were recited orally until they were recorded in Islamic times, and they probably aren’t exact reflections of actual pre-Islamic poetry. It’s completely possible some lines were added to them or subtracted from them over the decades. Either Islam borrowed way more concepts from pre-Islamic religion than Islamic literature and pre-Islamic inscriptions indicate, or Islamic concepts got folded into these poems over the years. Based on the lack of inscriptions about any sort of heaven or afterlife or judgement day, let’s go with the latter possibility for now.

Admittedly, the idea that everyone ultimately met the same fate was pretty unusual by Mohammed’s era. Zoroastrianism, Judaism, and Christianity all had some concept of divine judgement and afterlife realms for good and bad people, even if the details were sometimes vague. So by this era, if most Arabs rejected the concept of both, that would’ve made them relics of a bygone age. The possibility of an afterlife could have been something that helped Mohammed gain his first recruits from the polytheists of Mecca. If they were afraid of the nothingness after death that polytheists believed awaited them, and they were also afraid of being burned in a fire, which Mohammed said awaited them, then converting was the only way to achieve the goal of a peaceful afterlife.

But if Manat is basically the Grim Reaper and no one can escape her, what’s the point of praying to her, as some Arab tribes did? When they presented her with offerings, what were they hoping to gain?

Knowledge is one option. Pre-Islamic Arabs loved trying to gain insight into the future. They wanted to know as much as possible about it, a cultural trait that continued long into the Islamic era (despite many of the divination practices being explicitly against Islam). Maybe there was some Final Destination shit going on here--if you “knew” how you were gonna die, perhaps it was possible to avoid it if you asked Manat nicely, even if you couldn’t avoid death itself. Or perhaps she was invoked to grant people a glorious or painless death and to ensure that they were remembered in the memories of their people.

Islamic sources didn’t record anything about the details of how or why people worshiped Manat, so we can only speculate. I still think the creepy death lady is cool.

Anyway, to wrap this up...

Arab polytheism seems to have been very fluid. It wasn’t the case that there was one god to whom everyone owed their worship, and then a bunch of subservient gods after him. Some tribes fully dedicated themselves to one deity, while others offered sacrifices to a small number of others. Some deities were worshiped by only a few people, while others like Manat and Allat had lots of adherents all over Arabia. There aren’t any records of any Arab group trying to force other groups to worship their god alone, with one exception (cough).

A god was typically represented by an idol made of stone. People would offer animal or food sacrifices to this idol, and priests and priestesses would sometimes try to predict the future by performing divining rituals in front of the idol. The area around a tribe’s idol was typically considered sacred territory within which no violence was allowed (like the Kaaba).

Because the idols were seen as the gods, or at least as possessing the gods’ spirits or whatever, destroying an idol meant destroying the god it was associated with. Thus why Mo sent his goons around to attack polytheistic shrines--they were literally “killing” the other gods, according to the polytheistic understanding of it.

Arabs didn’t write many religious texts beyond short inscriptions, and Arab polytheism’s destruction by Islam was so complete that even people living barely a century after Mohammed’s death seemed to know virtually nothing about polytheistic customs. So there is little that we know about any of these gods, and even less is known about any sort of mythological stories that they may have featured in. (In fact some Western scholars believe that there was no mythology, and all the gods were more or less interchangeable and devoid of individual features--but clearly there was something giving certain gods an oral history or backstory, or else the insistence that some gods were related to each other doesn’t make any sense.) Often there is nothing known about them beyond their names. Complicating matters is the fact that the popularity of various gods changed over time, so a god extremely important to, say, the Qedar may have only been worshiped by a few people in late Nabataean times, whereas an important Nabataean god may have barely been worshiped in Mohammed’s era.

For example, Islamic texts tell us that a god named Hubal was worshiped in Mecca. Ibn Ishaq says that there were a bunch of arrows next to his idol that people used as divination tools. Beyond that, reputable sources don’t tell us anything about him; he may have been another old Nabataean god. Nuha is a goddess dating back to the Qedar days who seems to be associated with passion and emotion (there is an inscription stating that “by Nuha is the jealousy of a lover”), but by the Islamic era she’s virtually unheard of. As one god’s popularity waned, it’s possible that their idols and attributes were given to other gods instead.

That probably explains how Allat, Manat, and al-Uzza became sisters and Allah became their father over time. But it’s still unclear why the three goddesses were labeled the children of Allah, while the others weren’t given that title. Why is it that those three became a trio, exactly? The verse above implies the polytheists believed he only had daughters--but other parts of the Quran say the disbelievers believed he had sons and daughters. So maybe he had three daughters and, like, one or two unnamed sons? Or maybe he just preferred the girls to the boys?

There are obviously too many missing pieces in the mythology of Arab polytheism for us to put the whole story together, but my best guess is that they believed some unthinking/amoral force gave rise to Gen 1 gods like Allah (who then created the world and the other gods and goddesses). This force was irrelevant in the context of their religious practices because it presumably didn’t interact with humanity at all. Unlike monotheists, the polytheists believed that higher powers didn’t need worship or devotion and certainly weren’t gonna throw hissy fits if people didn’t bow to their asses five times a day; people prayed to gods when they themselves needed something in particular. That’s why they saw no issue with devoting more of their time to Allat than Allah, even though Allah was the one who created the world: Allat was the one more likely to give them stuff when they asked for it. Allah was hanging out shaping new babies to send into the world, or whatever--he was just fine without people praying to him and asking him for help acing a test. Seems like a better guy than the one we ended up with, tbh...

NEXT TIME: Back to monotheism!!!

The Quran Read-Along: Day 185

Ayat: 21

Good: 0

Neutral: 19 (37:133-134, 37:137-153)

Bad: 2 (37:135-136)

Kuffar hell counter: 0

⇚ previous day | next day ⇛

[joemerl]

“A Swiftly Tilting Planet” is Awful and I Hate It

I don’t know if anybody cares about my opinions, but I built up a lot of bile reading this book and I have to get rid of it somehow.

Background

For those who don’t know, this is the third book in Madeline L’Engle’s Time Quintet, aka “A Wrinkle in Time and its sequels that you’ve never heard of before.” The series involves a family that goes on Science Fantasy-type adventures with beings sent from a vaguely-defined, vaguely Christian bureaucracy of magical aliens. I’ll discuss the previous books a bit, but the series is pretty episodic so we don’t really need to recap them. 

In this story, the world is about to end because a South American dictator has a nuke. Our protagonist, the psychic teenager Charles Wallace, must work with a time-traveling winged unicorn from space to prevent this catastrophe by entering the minds of people from the past. It is much less interesting than it sounds.

Spoilers to follow.

These One-Dimensional Characters Keep Giving Birth to Themselves Like a Flock of Infuriatingly Dull Phoenixes 

The main plot has Charles Wallace travel to ca. 1170, ca. 1693 (Salem Witch Trials), ca. 1865 and ca. 1930s (or whenever Mrs. O’Keefe would have been a kid), plus the then-present day of 1978. Along the way, he chronicles the histories of several families, which include, by my count, about 30 characters who have only half a dozen different names and two personalities between them. 

The Maddox-Llawcaes: Technically two families, but they keep intermarrying each other to the point where I’m seriously questioning how inbred their modern descendants must be. This family was founded by a bunch of cliché Native Americans (stoic, wise, and otherwise devoid of personality) who married some woke Welshmen, repeatedly over multiple generations. They’re good. 

Gwydyr and his descendants: Distant relatives of the above, but descended from their patriarch’s ~evil~ brother. They’re evil and lust after virtuous Maddox-Llawcae women.

The Mortmains: They’re evil and lust after virtuous Maddox-Llawcae women.

The O’Keefes: They’re evil and lust after virtuous Maddox-Llawcae women. Also, they seem to hate disabled people. 

This is arguably a sex-linked trait; the one female character from an “evil” family seems relatively alright, but when she marries a Maddox-Llawcae she still passes evil on to their descendants. This turns out to be the driving crux of this story: Charles Wallace learns that the dictator is descended from that couple and was corrupted by his ancestress’ ~evil~ genes. To avert the apocalypse, Charles Wallace has to change history so that the Maddox-Llawcae man marries a Maddox-Llawcae woman instead. 

It’s pretty much impossible to interpret this as being about upbringing; it’s about blood. "Gwydyr’s line is tainted,” Charles Wallace says near the end. “There is nothing left but pride and greed for power and revenge.” At another point, a Maddox-Llawcae immediately writes off his unborn half-brother as evil because he has a Mortmain father. And he’s right---Unnamed Mortmain Sibling grows up to be a criminal and dies in jail. Hopefully without managing to pass on his dirty, inferior genes first, amirite? 

It doesn’t help that, even separated by centuries, relatives are often described as looking alike and/or having variations of the same names. Of those 30ish characters in these families we have three Mad(d)o(c)(k)/Madogs, two Gwydyrs, five Rich/Ritchie/Richards, three Bran(don)s, two Matt(hew)s, two Duthbert Mortmains (yeah, because that’s a name you want to keep in circulation for 300 years), and most egregiously of all, four of the main female characters are Zyll, Zylle, Zillah and Zillie. (Technically there are three Zillahs, if you count middle names.)

Obviously, genetic determinism is a questionable moral. It’s also really annoying, because each time period has the same basic characters just going through a variant of the same plot. There is hardly any character development across 800 years of history, and no permanent change from good to bad or vice versa.

In a way, this even ruins the previous books---Calvin O’Keefe became a good guy despite his dysfunctional family, but now I get the feeling that this isn’t supposed to be a testament to his strength as a person, it was just his mom’s Good Maddox Genes breaking through the Evil O’Keefe Heritage. But hey, the focus on Mom O’Keefe was nice in this book, since she’s practically the only one who has an actual character arc. 

Though, as you’ll see below, she was not actually needed for this story at all.

This Universe Has No God, Just a Tyrannical Plot Outline

Charles Wallace is the protagonist of this story, but probably gets mentioned on fewer than half of its pages. Mostly, he’s just psychically possessing people, during which time he does not control them so much as see their lives and...vaguely influence them, sometimes. What I’m saying is, he doesn’t really do much in this story. His grand moment, in the penultimate chapter, is to vaguely influence Matthew Maddox #1 to vaguely influence Rich Llawcae #3 to not to get stabbed by Gwydyr #2. This saves the world, but seems somewhat anticlimactic after 287 pages of build-up.

What’s worse: he actually tried to make this story shorter, and save me so much suffering. Unfortunately, “God” wouldn’t let him. At least, for a certain sense of the word. 

The Time Quintet is sort of like Chronicles of Narnia in that it’s a Christian story, but you have to dig a little beneath the surface to realize that. L’Engle’s beliefs were also more liberal than Lewis’, and in this book they seem almost pantheistic: Charles Wallace’s help seems to come less from a personal deity and more from a sort of implied sentience of the universe itself. This usually comes in the form of “the wind,” which blows him and the unicorn to different time periods at its own whim. 

Charles Wallace’s arc is that he is apparently a control freak, and needs to trust God/the universe to lead him, or something. He figures out early on that the key to everything is in 1865, but the unicorn says that no, we have to let the wind blow us where it wants. Twice he tries to fast-track things, and each time he and the unicorn almost die as a result; thus he learns that no, he should not be relying on his own intelligence or logic, he should just ~go with the flow~ and assume that things will work out. 

So basically, Charles Wallace has been tasked by Vague God to prevent the apocalypse, but he’s not allowed to do anything to actually try to prevent it---he’s basically just pushed into random corners and told to stay quiet, with the hope that his presence will change history through osmosis. I find myself comparing this to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. While I have some criticisms of this subplot, in that book Harry is presented with a choice: do what he thinks will save the world (looking into the Deathly Hallows), or what the Omniscient God Stand-In says will work (finding Voldemort’s Horcruxes). That works well enough, but here, Charles Wallace is given the choice between his own ideas and no actual instructions. He’s told to save the world, and then criticized for trying. 

There’s a part where the Echthroi (demons who want the nuclear apocalypse to happen) try to trick Charles Wallace by preying on his ego. This involves telling him he was selected to save the world because he’s intelligent and psychic and is a generally moral person, all of which is true. He rejects this, as he is supposed to, and at the end of the book notes that the mission did not succeed “because I was intelligent, or brave, or in control,” but because he let the wind guide him. Which just leads me to wonder why he was the one chosen to save humanity, when Vague God could have sent anyone else, or just cut out the middle-man and had a unicorn tell Bran Maddox #3 whom he was supposed to marry. 

But what really makes this intolerable? Charles Wallace was right. The key to everything is in 1865, he eventually gets blown there anyway, and it’s the only place where he concretely needed to do anything. So why the hell did we need 40 awful pages set during the Salem Witch Trials?! To teach us that the Salem Witch Trials were bad? Even the whole part in ca. 1930s was pointless---the only plot-relevant thing that we got there were hints about 1865′s importance, which Charles Wallace had already figured out but was scolded for suggesting. Other than that, these sections were just used to hammer in the idea that Maddox-Llawcaes are always good and the other families are always evil. 

So, my rewrite: Charles Wallace goes to 1170 and sees Madoc and Gwydyr. Then he either a.) figures out the importance of 1865 with his family’s help, as he does in the book, or b.) goes to the 1930s and figures things out from the clues there, while also learning the fairly-interesting-but-technically-irrelevant backstory about Mrs. O’Keefe. Either way, he decides to go to 1865, thus justifying his role as protagonist, and the fact that he is actively trying to save the world is not treated as a moral failing. 

Comparisons to the Previous Books, or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love at Bombs

This is my third Madeline L’Engle book, and really, these problems were present in the first two, even if they were less pronounced. Both ended with the protagonist (Charles Wallace’s older sister Meg, who arguably is more important than him in this book, too) saving the day with the Power of Love---meaning that she didn’t so much do anything as feel a certain way. Here, Charles Wallace does even less, just watching other people fall in love while his own character arc is in opposition to the actual plot. 

L’Engle’s strength does not seem to be coherent stories or complex characterization so much as weird, cool ideas---for example, a time-traveling space unicorn. But compared to previous books, this one is pretty down-to-earth; after hitching a ride on said unicorn, Charles Wallace mostly just watches people live fairly typical lives. While A Wrinkle in Time’s villain, a demonic alien brain, could theoretically wither at the approach of a sibling’s love, it’s harder to imagine a nuclear war being averted by nothing more than some shoehorned character development. 

For the record, I bought the fourth Time Quintet book at the same time as this one. I really, really hope that it’s better, but it will probably be a while before I get to it. 

Other Nitpicks

The whole clue leading to 1865 involves a book written by Matthew Maddox #1, who’s from that time. It’s about time-traveling unicorns and family feuds and the like, the basic idea being that he witnesses Charles Wallace and all the supernatural happenings and writes it down as a novel. Fine, okay, but people who talk about this novel keep emphasizing how revolutionary and amazing it was, which kind of feels like L’Engle just patting herself on the back for this awful, awful story.

At the end of the book, the time-traveling unicorn erases the memories of Charles Wallace and his sister Meg, for...some reason? I honestly don’t know why he did this; the pair knew about supernatural creatures even before this book, and they can still half-remember what happened anyway, so this seems pretty pointless. 

This line, from the 1865 arc: “When the sons of men fight against each other in hardness of heart, why should God not withdraw? Slavery is evil, God knows, but war is evil, too, evil, evil.” Not a bad point, but juxtaposed to the characters’ passivity I can’t help but snark: “Yeah, why can’t people just love at each other and magically fix everything, right?”

I’m Tough But Fair: Some Good Points

There are time-traveling winged unicorns from space. They eat moonlight, drink starlight, and hatch from eggs, as we see on a brief trip to their home planet. So yeah, L’Engle is pretty good at Science Fantasy weirdness.

Honestly, the other filler chapters were pretty good too, if only because they distract from the annoying main story. Even the purple prose about “the harmonies of the universe” are alright sometimes. 

Like I said, Mrs. O’Keefe could have been cut, but her arc, going from innocent little girl to crotchety old lady to redeemed old lady, was a good one. And her brother being named “Chuck,” like Charles Wallace, actually felt like it meant something instead of being yet another case of Generation Xerox. 

Along those lines, I like that the Murrays didn’t turn out to be some distant cousins of the Maddox-Llawcaes. That would have been annoying.

The 1865 arc was easily the best in the book. Even with the blood-based moral alignments, the characters still had actual arcs about overcoming disabilities, PTSD...like, expand this and cut out the stupid Salem Witch Trial arc, which was so, so bad. Also, was I just imagining it, or was Matthew #1 in love with Zillah #1? ‘Cause him arranging for her to marry Bran #3 is even more touching if he did. 

Conclusion

Um...the book sucked. 

I wrote this over three days, and it wound up being more than 2,200 words. Wow.

[channimagine]

Chanyeol x Reader

Request by a lovely anon : “Okay I have an idea for bts x exo scenario. Idk of you’ll get it but here we go lol. So it would be pre their relationship and Chanyeol would have a crush on her. And one day in the interview he would be asked who is his celebrity crush and he would say her and fans would get all excited and ship them and then you can add something more or idk 😂😂😂” 

That’s a super cute idea let’s do thiiiiis

(So, this is previous part of this!! Please check it out :3)

“Okay guys, get ready, we are starting in five minutes!”

The staff closed the door after shouting this information to the group. The 9 men were sitting on sofas and chairs, waiting for the interview to start. Sehun, the youngest, yawned a little.

“Come on, Sehun.” Said Junmyeon, the leader. “Act you care about being here, please.”

“But I’m tired… It’s late now.”

“No, it’s not.” Replied Minseok.

“For him it’s pretty late because he went to bed pretty late, last night, am I right, Sehunie~”

“Shut up Chanyeol, you were at this party too okay.”

“Well at least I’m not almost sleeping right now!”

“Okay you two, calm down. We know you both are tired, we all are, but please be nice with each other and the interview will be quicker than you think.”

“I hate interviews…” said Jongdae.

“Is it because you have things to hide, Kim Jongdae?” replied Chanyeol, acting like he was seriously shocked.

“Stop that you giant idiot!” Jondgae laughed and gently punched his friend. “Don’t you have secrets?”

“Nah I don’t~ So that’s why I’m pretty confident about this interview!”

The other boys looked at him, all raising an eyebrow. How can this be possible? We all have a secret garden, after all.

A second after, the staff came in the changing room and asked the boys to start the interview.

“Okay let’s do this, kids.” Said Junmyeon.

“We’re going to have fun!” replied Chanyeol with a smile, to cheer his friends up.

“Hope you’re right.”

They entered a big room with many interviewers, photographers and cameramen, already recording the team as soon as they came in. The boys were smiling as much as possible, trying to hide their stress, and took a seat in front of all of them, behind a long table. And then, the big show started.

When are you going to release your new album? How’s Lay doing in China? Are you going to leave the group? Any new date for a future world tour? Will you form another subunit? What about that drama you played in, can you tell more about this? You said that in this live the other day, do you have any explication? Is anyone here is ready to go solo, today? How’s life at your dorm?

It was really tiring for the boys to answer all these questions, but they were trying their best. Yixing was especially solicited during this interview, but the others were here to help him. Team work on point!

It has been almost two hours that it started now, and the questions were more and more rare. Chanyeol and the boys could feel freedom was near. The tall man shared a glare of intense (but dissimulated) joy with the maknae, who was about to fall on the floor.

“Alright let’s have one more question, and we are done.” said the manager. 

The boys were now excited to leave this room and to be in their bed. Chanyeol examined the crowd carefully, to discourage any one to talk the microphone and ask the last question. But, unfortunately, it did not work at all.

“I would like to ask my question to Mister Park Chanyeol.”

“Yes, I’m listening.” Chanyeol was now honestly extremely tired, but he tried to hide it as much as possible.

“The other day, on the live you were doing with… Mr. Oh if I’m right you talk about a woman.”

“… Yes probably?” Chanyeol was starting to feel a little anxious, and the other boys probably noticed it, because they suddenly all turned their head in his direction, expect for Sehun, who was feeling a bad sensation about the situation.

“So I investigated a little bit and I’ve found that you were talking about… Miss Y/N. What is your relationship with her?”

Chanyeol had a total blank. What was he asking? What sort of relationship he was having with who?

“Hum- I’m sorry w-who are you talking about?” Chanyeol was shaking a little bit, praying that he heard bad the first time.

“Miss Y/N. The famous actress- you acted with her in your last drama.”

“O-oh yeah…”

So, he heard right. He was talking about Y/N… At first, Y/N was just a young, pretty and famous actress Chanyeol just saw on TV Shows or drama. But then he had to play a lead role with her as the lead actress. And he fell for her. She had so much charm, she was a beauty, her laugh was the cutest, her hair was soft and beautiful, everything Chanyeol liked for a girl. He basically had a crush on her. And this was the only secret he was trying to hide.

“So, what’s your relationship with her, Mr. Park?” the interviewer asked, waking up Chanyeol.

“Hum well hum we are… colleague I guess?”

“Do you have her phone number?”

“Yeah I do actually. It was better because you know we were… acting on the same drama.” Chanyeol was seriously so mad at himself; what was he even saying? And his teammates were as confused as he was.

“Do you guys still keep in touch?”

“Hmm not really.”

“So why did you receive a message from her during the live?”

Chanyeol was about to say something like “well you don’t have to know?” but controlled himself, took a deep breath and replied. 

“She was just congratulating me for our win on our last album.”

“It was a while ago.”

“Yeah but-“

“Do you guys talk to each other often?”

“Hum…”

“We actually asked what she thought about you.”

“You did??”

Chanyeol almost screamed. When he realized it, he blushed a little and apologized, looking down at his hands on the table.

“She said you were an extremely nice partner for a drama, and she liked you a lot.”

Chanyeol looked at the interviewer with round eyes and red cheek. Sehun couldn’t hide a little laugh, and Baekhyun punched his arm a little, to make him stop.

“Oh, I see… W-well Y/N is really nice too! She’s a very talented actress, and having the opportunity to work with such an amazing woman was a miracle. And hum… yeah she’s… really pretty and kind.”

A second after Chanyeol finished his sentence, the entire crowd started asking more and more questions. People were literally dying to hear more about this.

“Are you guys dating?”

“No-“

“Do you have feelings for her?”

“What-“

“Did she ever confess?”

“N-“

“Did you reject her?”

“Are you planning on seeing her soon?”

“What are you plans for the future with her?”

“Alright everyone, as I said before, this was the last question.” Said the manager, before making a sign to the boys, telling them to leave the room.

The 9 boys went back to the changing room in silence, and as soon as they entered, Chanyeol sat on a chair, almost dead.

“You okay, buddy?” asked Baekhyun, patting his back.

“What just happen…”

“You did not tell us you had a crush on Y/N!”

“I-I don’t!!” Chanyeol blushed.

“Honestly guys that was pretty obvious…” commented Yixing.

“Guys!”

“For someone who said he didn’t have any secrets…”

“Sehun please shut up I want to kill you.”

“Hehe~”

Chanyeol barely slept this night. He was punching his face with a pillow, fearing the moment when his crush will see the interview and tell him that he’s a looser and she did not want him.

“I want to die seriously… I can’t believe I’ve done that…”

The next morning, Chanyeol woke up the last and skipped breakfast. He purposely waited the time when all the boys are out of the dorm to go downstairs and grab some food. But while he was eating, his phone rang.

“Holy sh- Oh thank god it’s not her. “

Indeed, it was Sehun, who send him 2 messages. Chanyeol opened them up and discovered with terror the link to the interview. The interviewers were so fast? And the second message was small and serious.

“Look at the fans comments bellow.”

Chanyeol took a deep breath and opened the link to see the comments. He was seriously going to explode. Of course, people were going to insult him, but also her. He wasn’t ready for that…

“Omg this is so cute???”

What?

“Have you seen his reaction??”

But-

“Tbh I wish they were together.”

What??

“They look so adorable together omg please let that happen!!”

Almost all the comments were positive. Chanyeol was hallucinating. Was he dreaming? So many people were begging him to ask Y/N out. Chanyeol took a seat to breathe a little. What was that. He sent a text to Sehun.

“Is this a joke? Cause I don’t want to laugh right now.”

He waited a little and his phone rang again.

“Not it’s not, idiot. Now please ask her out soon or I’ll punch your face.”

Chanyeol suddenly blushed like a high school girl and walked around the dining table again and again, trying to figure out if it was real or not. He slapped his face twice to wake up… but nothing happens.

“It’s real…” he whispered to himself. “Oh god.”

_______

Not that far away in Seoul, you were on your bed, riding a book and your phone rang. You took it and saw your bestie sent you a text. You opened it and discovered a link about the last interview of EXO, with a text.

“Read this.”

You quickly red it and, when you finally reached the end, you stood up, screaming and blushing. 

“Wha-What??”

TA-DAH! I had so much fun writing this hehe~ Hope you guys liked it, and if you did, please tell meeeee

And if you have requests/suggestions please let me know :3

[s0ftkwan]

(fake) boyfriend!daehwi

group; member wanna one; lee daehwi

genre fluff fluff fluff

author’s note literally came up with this in the shower lol also this gif is really cute <3

once a year your school had this giant festival that was full of games and food booths and tons of other stalls

basically like those huge fairs in those animes lol

and for the first time in forever, you and your bff daehwi didnt have anything to do

it was literally the first year since you transferred in that you werent class pres or vice pres and same goes for daehwi

this year the unfortunate position was given to guanlin, another close friend of yours

lets just say you enjoyed every single moment watching guanlin try not to pull his hair out from all the stress

ofc you two had little jobs here and there like running your class’s stall but that only took up about an hour of the whole festival

so you and hwi were hitting all of the stalls playing games and stuffing your faces with all of the food

literally you two felt like you were expecting mothers

overall it was a fun ass day until dun dun dun

your bitchy ass cousin who you absolutely hated with a burning passion oK calm down arrived

“hwi i’ll catch u later, i have to show this ho--I MEAn my cousin around“

on the inside you were literally begging him to end your life right there and then

she was visiting for the week and she couLd NOT gET ANY MORE annoying is2G 

dont worry she felt the same <<3

you were stuck wondering why the heck she was here until you remembered

before you left for school in the morning, u remembered your mom telling you she was stopping by so that she could see what normal life was like where you lived

but u knew that it was her lame ass excuse to talk to more boys loL

anYways you had the great displeasure of showing her around the school

you were pretty sure for the first hour, the only words that came out of her mouth were “where are the cute boys y/n ??!!”

when you passed by the churro stall you were literally about to stuff those churros down her throat lmao

coincidentally you saw daehwi with your other classmates laughing about something

weirdly though you felt a little pit pat in your heart when you saw him smiling so much but you blamed it on the heat or something lame like that

but that lil joy disappeared immediately when you heard your cousin pipe up behind you

“ooo couz, who is that? he’s kinda cute“

you swore you were about to break her little fingers off when she pointed one of them at your best friend

instead of doing that though, you came up with another approach to shut her down for good

you didnt know what demon possessed you to be able to do such a thing but you grabbed daehwi’s wrist, pulling him away gently from your classmates

walked up to your cousin

linked your arms in his

and yelled out loud

“cousin dearest, meet daehwi, my boyfriend“

silence

ong somewhere in the distance telling daniel that he knew it and that he needed to be paid 50 bucks or smthn

for the first time, your cousin was actually speechless

“w-woah, o-okay,,, nice to meet you,,,,,hey couz, i’m gonna head uh over there ok? see you later!!”

she left awkwardly probs super embarrassed hAh

you were too busy smirking at your victory to notice your best friend’s totally shocked and blushy face

“b-b-boyFRIEnD???“ big time rush ayy

you finally realize that somehow your hands were intertwined with his “hwi your my best friend you know i would die for you right......pls be my boyfriend for the day“

the poor boy looked like he was going to faint

“ONLY for the day and only in front of my cousin, i promise when this is all over,,,,,,,i’ll get you a date with whoever you want bc letsfaceityouneedit“

you were terrified that he was gonna say n o bc what happens after thaT?? an awkward rejection??

“You know what that was so stupid of me pls forgive me let me just tell my cousin that it was all a li--“

“i’ll do it“

long story short thats how lee daehwi became your fake boyfriend for a day

and honestly, it wasnt all that bad

it actually felt pretty normal for you just like you were friends at a fair

except he held your hand and you had gross couple headbands

but only when your cousin was in your line of sight

people cooed at how cute you two were

especially your annoying seniors jaehwan and sungwoon

“jaehwan sungwoon i swear i will take these annoying headbands and choke you until you turn purple“

needless to say they shut up after that

you thought things were normal and even almost forgot about your little act until daehwi pulled you into an empty photobooth to take some couple pictures

“h-hwi, she cant even see us in here,,,“

“still! we gotta sell it, y/n!“

it was actually pretty fun

daehwi and you pulled some extremely ugly poses that you were not even sure existed until you did it

but for the final picture, daehwi told you to look straight into the camera with a pretty smile

you did as you were told bc you thought he was going to do the same, buT

cheeky ass boy plants a peck on your cheek just as the camera goes off

you look at him with wide eyes and he just has a sheepish smile on his face

“g-gotta sell it, right?“

the pictures came out really funny and so typical of you

daehwi let you keep the pictures except for the last one

when you asked him why he just told you “good memories that’s all“

you bet your ass you were a blushing mess after that

you two continued on as if nothing happened but you didnt notice how daehwi held your hand all afternoon even if you two had no idea where your cousin was

it was finally the closing of the fair’s first day and everyone pretty much left

you had found your cousin again who was surprisingly not as irritating as you thought

she was waiting by the gate and daehwi walked you there

“daehwi, thank you sosososo much for today,,,,like being my fake boyfriend and all,,,“

“no problem,,,,so,, y/n,, about your little offer,,,,“

you felt your heart break a little bit when you remembered what you offered him

i mean you werent jealous or anything its just that the thought of daehwi holding another person’s hand or kissing their cheek or doing anything like what you did today just made you kinda sour inside bUT YOU WERENT JEALOUS OR ANYTHING uh huh keep telling yourself that hun

“o-oh yeah, that,,, listen as your bff for life, i can assure you i am an a grade wing woman. just tell me your type and i can make it happen buddy. who is it? is it somi from class a? or dara the sophmore?? or is it––“

“it’s you“

what

“e-excuse me?“

“y/n, my bestest friend in the whole wide world who i have had a crush on since the first moment i saw you, will you go out with me?“

needless to say your night ended with a promise of a date, a future boyfriend, and a lot of excitement for the week to come

[hexdream18243]

Fanfiction: Kisses and commode

Again, here is a small thing. Piece of work, you can name it fanfiction, because it is fanfiction. It has two parts but I don’t actually know when I’ll able to share with you a second chapter, because… translating.

I’m really grateful to @beholdagay for correcting it. Thank you very much, you’re awesome and I love you for that!

Paring: logicality

Word count: 2060

Summary: Boring afternoon in commons of mindscape. Logan is reading, Roman is narrating, Virgil is listening to music… Until it stops being so boring.

Part two.

AO3 link

Part one - logicality

Logan sat on the couch in the living room peacefully reading, Virgil sat on the commode next to closet and listened to music through his headphones, while Roman stood in the middle of the living room, narrating something in an elevated tone. He totally ignored that his listeners were not interested in his story, he was too focused on narrating.

 After all, Logic was able to tell what Prince was saying but he preferred to concentrate on something else. Especially since he never knew whether the regal persona was saying something literally or whether he was only using fancy rhetoric figures. Logan began to assume in advance that everything Prince was saying was one big metaphor. In this way, he didn’t feel the need to wonder if, for example, the sentence: “She ripped his heart from his chest, trampled it and left him there with the deepest wound, to endless suffering” is either a picturesque description of rejection or the mentioned woman was strong and cruel enough to literally wrest the man’s heart from his chest. Sometimes it’s better to not know.

“Princey, stop it. Nobody listens to you” growled Anxiety.

“Ha! You paid attention to me, so it means that even with your headphones on, you can hear me. You’re listening to me.”

“Because I don’t have a choice! You’re talking loud enough to drown out the music in the headphones. Stop!”

“ Oh my dark vigilant shadow, it’s…”

 At that moment, Logan stopped listening. Earlier he tried to practice divisibility of attention, but now he decided that he prefers not to listen to the next quarrel between Roman and Virgil. Each of them sounded similar, so he hadn’t had any reason to collect useless information about insults and teasing. But one statement caught his attention back.

“Go to the devil, Roman.”

“Virgil, that is technically impossible” - he interrupted, surprised by such an illogical statement. - “Even if we skip the issue of the dubious existence of the devil himself, he, according to all beliefs and legends, is living in hell. If you want to go to hell, you have to die, but you also have to be a bad person enough to be sentenced to eternal damnation. Roman would have to be dead and have more bad deeds than good deeds. Assuming that Roman managed to die to complete this request, even if I can completely agree with the fact that he is sometimes a very irritating and difficult person” - Prince snorted. - “He is undoubtedly not evil. There’s a reason we all call him ‘Prince’.”

“I don’t know if I should thank you or feel offended” Roman said.

Virgil just threw a resigned look at Logan and murmured something which sounded suspiciously like: “Why is it always me? Take Prince seriously for once.” Logic ignored him and went back to his book. He heard Prince breathing in and starting another sentence, probably to continue the argument but he had stopped in the middle of the word. Logan looked up from his novel.

He saw Patton standing next to Prince, grinning brightly. Roman’s expression was of complete surprise as he held his cheek.

“W-Why?” he asked.

“Oh, Roman! You seemed to be upset. And I’m always in a better mood when someone kisses or hugs me. You’re not?”

“Oh.”

Patton immediately started to worry.

“You’re not, oh my, I didn’t think that you’d mind, I thought…”

“No, no!” - Roman denied quickly. - “ I don’t mind! Of course not. Actually physical manifestations of attention is a daily routine for me and your actions were great, now I’m in a perfect mood!”

Roman smiled widely. Patton smiled back and turned to Anxiety who was sitting on the commode. Logic put down the book and watched.

“Virgil! Can I kiss you too, kiddo?” Morality asked.

Anxiety frowned, jumped from the commode, clearly uncomfortable and sighed when he encountered Patton’s hopeful look.

“Fine” he muttered finally.

Delighted Morality ran to him and pecked him on the cheek. Anxiety winced but when Patton turned his back to him, he smirked.

This time Morality turned to Logan. Logan knew, that since Patton kissed the remaining two, he probably also will be kissed. Logic just didn’t know if he is more happy or if he is more surprised by his own happiness. As he suspected, Morality came to him.

“Logan! Can you come with me for a moment?” he asked.

“Of course y-” Logic stopped. He didn’t expect that question. Fortunately, he reconsidered his answer quickly and continued in another way. “y… I can”.

He stood up and followed Patton, ignoring the other two, who exchanged glances. He tried to focus on ignoring the sudden disappointment he felt when he had heard Morality’s question.

They were in the hall, quite far from the closed door of the living room. So there were nothing more than an empty hall and a red carpet. Around the next corner were doors to their rooms. To enter the kitchen you have to go through the living room. Morality stopped next to the bend, he took a deep breath and turned to Logan.

“Logan, I have a question.”

“I understand. To whom is it directed? Do you need my advice?” Logic immediately rejected himself as a potential recipient. He didn’t understand why Patton would lead him out of the living room just to ask a question. He came to the conclusion that Morality needs help, because a question is imperfect and it needs to be improved in private.

“To you, silly! I don’t need advice, I just… “ Morality budged and shifted back and forth hesitantly. Logan waited patiently until Patton managed to gather his thoughts. It wasn’t the best idea, because Morality instead of continuing his sentence, stared at the carpet. Logan sighed. That drew Patton’s attention.

“Well maybe you would like some advice? Before you ask about anything, you should know, that asking questions is based on making a sentence characterising what you expect answered from someone. Unless you’re asking a rhetorical question, but I don’t think that’s the case this time. Anyway, the question form depends on what you ask and what kind of answers you expect. The questions that require a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer are different from these which give you more information. There exists a basic difference between “Did you have dinner?” and “What did you have for a dinner?”. How ,as you can notice…”

“Logan!”  Patton interrupted him. “As much as I love listening to y… that, at this moment I don’t need information about it.”

“I understand. So what is going on?”

Patton breathed deeply.

“The thing is that… I… I want to ask you a question.”

“Yes, indeed, I’m aware of that, you made this statement earlier.”

“Exactly. And this question… I wanted to ask you something in connection with this question!” - Logan realized that Patton circulates around the subject, making the conversation longer. But he was curious anyway.

“About what?”

“Can you…” Patton made some decision and he stopped avoiding Logan’s gaze. “Ok. I just wanted to ask you to answer me honestly.”

“Patton, naturally, I see no problem in that. I don’t understand why I would answer you insincerely or ,what’s worse, wrong.

Morality again took a deep breath and smiled.

“If you say so. So… Can I kiss you?”

It confused Logan. He didn’t expect this question. Just a moment ago Patton asked Virgil about it. Why this discreteness? So he said the first thing that came to his mind, without thinking.

“It’s obvious that you can. Why not?”

“Really?” Patton almost jumped in place.

Logan didn’t quite understand why he was surprised. Shouldn’t Morality be more surprised by Anxiety’s agreement?

Yes” he couldn’t say anything else, because Patton immediately kissed him on the lips.

Logan froze, startled. He didn’t expect it. This behavior was completely inconsistent with Patton's earlier actions. Even if he could and he should suspect something like this from Morality, he still wasn’t prepared for such a drastic change of the operation. First of all, he was surprised at the location of the kiss, but not only. Beyond the location, the kiss was definitely longer and characterized by hesitancy which the short kiss on the cheek didn’t have. Although Logan didn’t like the unexpected and often inexplicably twists, which have no representation in reality, he had to admit that Morality’s move explained his hesitation and nervousness at least. Logan felt relief. He thought for a moment Morality’s strange behavior could have a serious, potentially dangerous source.

Patton finally moved away and looked at Logic’s surprised face with worry.

“Logan? Are you okay?”

“Y-yes” - Logan cleared his throat. - “I just didn’t expect that.”

“O-oh...” Patton averted his eyes with the face of a beaten puppy. That obliged Logan to continue his speech.

“But it still doesn’t change my answer. You know, kisses are very beneficial for the body. At first, this activity uses energy, so it is a potential exercise even though you do not need a lot of energy. As well, heart rate is increased from 80 to 120 heart beats per minute so blood flows faster in the veins, you’re breathing more deeply, so your brain is better oxygenated and this raises the level of happiness hormones. And also serotonin, adrenaline, oxytocin, dopamine…”

“ So kissing is healthy!” Patton interrupted Logan before he got completely into the lecture and he grabbed his hand on the occasion. Logic stopped talking, he smiled at Morality and nodded.

“Yes, I think you can say that.”

Suddenly they heard a loud crash from the living room. Logan and Patton looked at each other and ran there. They burst into the room. On the floor laid the commode on which Virgil previously sat. Virgil leaned against the wall pinned by Roman who was aiming at his chest with a katana. Behind Roman was hiding… a second Virgil? He was glaring at his doppelganger with hateful eyes.

“What is happening here?” Logan asked.

“You don’t want to know” answered the Anxiety standing next to the wall, looking quickly at him. He straight away looked back at the two in front of him. “You won this time Princey. But watch your words, guys. Otherwise I’ll be back soon.” He threatened and evaporated like smoke.

Everyone sighed with relief. Prince lowered his sword and relaxed tensed body. The remaining Anxiety turned to the arrivals and smirked.

“I knew it!” he cried, pointing at their still intertwined hands.

“Okay, you’re right, kiddo!” Patton said. “But who was that?”

“I refuse to answer that question.” Anxiety sank down, possibly to hide in his room. Roman was looking at him with small smile. Suddenly he opened his eyes wide as if someone had kicked him.

“Wait. What about… Virgil!” he cried. He wanted to pass Logan and Patton and run out of the living room, but Logic stood in his way.

“Roman, what did it want? Why did it threat you?”

Prince huffed impatiently.

“Listen, you two. It’s really nothing, but I have to talk to Virgil. We’ll explain everything later, I promise. So excuse me for now, but I have to catch him!” Roman said and ran out of the room. They were left alone with the overturned commode.

Patton looked at the door, at the commode, at Logan and again at the commode but this time he was smiling to himself. Logan was looking at the commode with a frown trying to understand the previous situation. It didn’t do him very well. There was an awkward silence until Morality broke it.

“So… Can I call you my boyfriend now?” he asked happily. Logan threw him a surprised look. Then he realized the other sides weren’t here so it’s best to set the doppelganger situation aside for later.

“Only if I can do it as well” he answered.

“Call yourself my boyfriend? Of course!”

“No, I mean-”

“I know Logan.” Morality chuckled. “I was kidding. You’re my good boy.”

“… I’m not a dog, Patton.”

This provoked another giggle from Morality. They lifted the commode together and gathered the papers from the floor. Eventually, later, when everything calms down, they’ll get what exactly had happened out of Roman and Anxiety. But for now they could wait and sit down in the living room, cuddling on the couch.