#Caesar x ballerina reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

booty-lati · 3 years

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I LOVED YOUR HEADCANONS ON THE BUCCI GANG TAKING CARE OF THEIR SICK S/O!! it was so cute omg!!

i’m wondering if you can do a one shot on caesar’s fem! s/o who’s a professional ballet dancer! he’s so proud of her for accomplishing her dreams! but he is a bit worried for her since she overworks herself. and she unfortunately works herself to much and severely injures herself during a performance and suddenly thinks she won’t be able to dance anymore. i just thought this’d be a bit fluff/angst!

love your writing!! <33

I'm glad to hear that you enjoy my writing! Sorry I took so long to make your request jsndnd 😭

Caesar Zeppeli x Fem! (S/o)

Get Well Soon, My Sweet Love!

"(S/o)!?"

"(S/o)! Answer me!"

"(S/O)!!!"

She finds herself in a deep, slumbering darkness. Her Italian boyfriend at her side as his hands clasped and intertwined with hers in tears. Joseph puts his hand on his shoulder.

"Oh god, d'ya she'll be okay?"

"I-I don't know, the nurse hasn't said anything yet." Caesar responded, his voice dripping with worry and concern as he never turned his face away from his (s/o). 'Sigh, why does she keep overworking herself?' He placed his head on hers, squeezing his eyes shut.

Knock-knock. The nurse comes into the room holding a clipboard. Just when she opened her mouth to say something, Joseph cut her off as he sprinted towards her.

"OH NOOOO! NURSE! WHY ISN'T (Y/N) MOVING?? WHERE'S HER POWER BUTTON? WAKE UP (Y/N)! WAKE. UP. NOW!!-"

"Sir, I'm going to have to escort you outside if you cannot control the loudness of your voice. Please calm down and stop shaking my shoulders." She says to Joseph sternly as she turns to look at Caesar. "Ms. (l/n) will be okay, but it'll take a bit longer for her to be back on her feet due to her current condition. In addition to her state of head trauma she'll be staying here for most likely a month and a half." Caesar's eyes began to glisten again and he felt like he was going to break down any second, but he kept it all in by masking himself with a serious look on his face.

"How long can I stay with her?" He mumbles, finally breaking the heavy silence.

"Our visiting hours are from 9:30am to 10:30pm, but I'll be stopping by from time to time to give her daily needs and treatment. Otherwise you have about half an hour before I need to change her IV bag." The nurse reminds him while dragging the Joestar that was still babbling outside the room. Caesar sharply inhales as he massages his temples.

"Sigh, amore..I know that you enjoy dancing, but you continue to overwork yourself even after many, many times I've told you that it's okay to take a break. Please, if there's something that's been bothering you I'm always at your side and ready to listen to how you've been feeling.." He speaks out as his voice trembles, his adam's apple swallowing his worry and sorrow. "I love you so-so much, I love the way that you dance, I love that you're devoted to your passion, but you're so careless about yourself that you constantly come home exhausted. It pains for me to see you like this, it hurts my heart.." He squeezes her hand tightly in his as he kisses her cheek, gently caressing it with other hand. Suddenly, the doorknob clicks and the door opens; the nurse has returned.

"Time's up, you'll be able to see her again tomorrow Mr. Zeppeli." She says while holding the door for him. Caesar gives one final kiss on his lover's lips as he cracks a small smile when he felt his (s/o)'s hand twitch.

"I'll be back bella." He softly whispers in her ear as he made his way to leave the room. From that day forward, Caesar continued to visit her every single day.

~WoO- hOo, time skip 😳~

At first, her sight was pitch black.

But then she slowly fluttered her eyes open.

Where are those soft mumbles coming from--oh, it's just Joseph yelling--wait, WHAT?

"CAESAR! YOU GOTTA SEE THIS! SHE'S CONSCIOUS! SHIZAAAAA!!"

"Will you shut up you elephant!? You'll hurt her ears-"

"Mmm.. what's with all the ruckus?" (S/o) said as she yawned.

"(S/O!)" Caesar roughly pushes away from Joseph as he lovingly hugs her, leaving Joseph pouting with his butt on the floor from the earlier impact.

"How long was I asleep?" She asks Caesar while cocking her head to the side.

"About a month cara. You'll be able to get out of the hospital today but the doctor said that you'll be needing crutches so you can walk properly until your legs completely heal." Caesar's response earned a sad look on her face.

"Sigh, I don't think I'll ever be able to dance anymore.. I probably won't ever be as good as I used to be. I need to work harder-" She was cut off by a peck on the lips from her boyfriend.

"(S/o), don't you ever say that you're not good enough of a dancer, because I know that you're my most precious ballerina of all. I understand that you need to practice, but you don't have to pressure yourself until the point where you're about to faint. It's okay to have a break now and then dolcezza." Caesar says to her, inches away from her face.

"Caesar.." (S/o)'s cheeks were dusted with a rosy pink, her eyes widening as she saw his mouth curl in to a cat-like grin. "What are you-ah!" Her neck and face were peppered with kisses, causing laughter emitting from the two of them. It also made Joseph gag.

"Promise me you won't overwork yourself?" Caesar's face contorts into a serious look. (S/o) smiles at him in return.

"Okay, I wont~" Caesar softens as he plants another kiss on her, squeaking in the process.

"Ti amo amore."

"Ti amo anch'io bello."

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kirieshhhka003 · 4 years

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This is my old masterlist and a lot of my writings are not here, check out my new full masterlist and a +18 smut masterlist

Masterlist

🍓 - NSFW

🖊 - scenario

🔪 - yandere behavior

Check out #small request game, you’ll find a lot of interesting stuff there, I promise😉

Part 1

Jonathan Joestar

Jonathan Joestar x reader

Part 2

Joseph Joestar

Young Joseph Joestar common hc’s

Joseph with little sister who gets teased for her hair

Caesar Antonio Zeppeli

Caesar x fem!S/o x Joseph poly relationships hc’s🍓

Yandere! Caesar Zeppeli headcanons🔪

Part 3

Stardust Crusaders crew

Crusaders x S/o who gets cold in a desert

Kujo Jotaro

Some common Jotaro hc’s

Some common Jotaro hc’s pt 2 cuz why not?

Some common Jotaro hc’s pt 3 cuz why not?

Jotaro modern hc’s

Catering Jotaro after he has had a long tiring day🍓

Kakyoin Noriaki

Common Kakyoin hc’s

Kakyoin modern hc’s

Reader helps Kakyoin with insomnia

Yandere! Kakyoin Noriaki headcanons🔪

Jean Pierre Polnareff

Jean Pierre Polnareff x S/o who have troubles at work

Part 4

Duwang gang

How’s to be friends with Duwang gang

Higashikata Josuke

Josuke with little sister who gets teased for her hair

Kishibe Rohan

Rohan x small male! S/o🍓

Kira Yoshikage

Kira Yoshikage x S/o with an onychophagy(nail biting)

Mikitaka

Mikitaka meets S/o’s fat and lazy cat

Part 5

Bucci gang

Bucci gang and dr#gs

Bucci gang skating with S/o

Bucci gang x S/o who has migraines

Bucci gang x OCD S/o

Bucci gang x cartoonist S/o

Bucci gang with new dork fem! member

Bucci gang x desperate S/o because they broke something

Bucci gang x cute and sweet S/o who have terrifying stand

Bucci gang x reader coming out as bi

Bucci gang x ex stripper S/o

Bucci gang omegavers🍓

Bucci gang and shibari🍓

Bruno Buccellati

Bruno Buccellati common relationship hc’s

Bruno Buccellati x fem! chubby S/o

Bruno x ballerina S/o

Sugar daddy Bruno falling for his sugar baby

Bruno Buccellati x S/o who is clueless about their relationships

Bruno comforting depressed S/o

Bruno Buccellati x reader Yandere Writing Prompt🔪🖊

Bruno Buccellati x reader fluff scenario 🖊

Bruno Buccellati NSFW alphabet🍓

Bruno Buccellati x virgin fem! S/o🍓

Catboy Bruno Buccellati🍓

Yandere! Bruno Buccellati headcanons🔪

Leone Abbacchio

Leone Abbacchio x S/o who is clueless about their relationships

Leone Abbacchio x fem! S/o, but he’s afraid of being rejected by her

Leone Abbacchio x asexual S/o

Leone Abbacchio comforting depressed S/o

Leone Abbacchio NSFW alphabet🍓

Abbacchio x small male! S/o🍓

Leone Abbacchio x soft dom! S/o🍓

Leone Abbacchio x virgin S/o🍓

Guido Mista

Guido Mista common hc’s

Mista x small and sensitive fem! S/o

Guido Mista NSFW alphabet🍓

Mista x fem! virgin S/o🍓

Mista x brat fem! S/o🍓

Yandere! Guido Mista headcanons🔪

Narancia Ghirga

Narancia Ghirga modern headcanons

Narancia Ghirga NSFW alphabet🍓

Pannacotta Fugo

Pannacotta Fugo x fem! S/o that gets scared at his outbursts

Pannacotta Fugo relationship hc’s

Pannacotta Fugo x asexual S/o

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno crushing on Mista

Giorno with little sister who gets teased for her hair

Yandere! Giorno Giovanna headcanons🔪

Don Giorno x bratty gender neutral!Reader🍓

Trish Una

Trish x S/o with low self esteem

Trish x ballerina S/o

Diavolo

Diavolo with kittens

Diavolo as a mermaid

Diavolo x S/o who spoils him with love and affection

Diavolo reacting to S/o asking him to wear a skirt

Clingy Diavolo scenario🖊

Diavolo and Doppio are yanderes for the same person🔪

Yandere! Diavolo headcanons🔪

Yandere! android Diavolo x reader Part One🔪

Yandere! android Diavolo x reader Part Two🔪

Diavolo x Risotto headcanons🍓

Diavolo NSFW alphabet 🍓

Alpha Diavolo headcanons🍓

Soft sub Diavolo hc’s🍓

Diavolo x ultimate being S/o🍓

Catboy Diavolo🍓

La Squadra di Esecuzione

La Squdra with new young member

Risotto Nero

Risotto Nero common headcanons

Risotto Nero centaur hc’s

Risotto Nero x small affectionate fem! S/o

Diavolo x Risotto headcanons🍓

Risotto Nero NSFW alphabet🍓

Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio x asexual S/o

Illuso

Illuso x reader Yandere Writing Prompt🔪🖊

Sorbet and Gelato

Sorbet and Gelato common headcanons

Sorbet x reader x Gelato Yandere Writing Prompt🔪🖊

Part 6

Narciso Anasui

Narciso Anasui NSFW alphabet🍓

Part 7

Johnny Joestar

Johnny x S/o with low self esteem

Part 8

Josuke Higashikata (Gappy)

Gappy x S/o with low self esteem

#masterlist #my writing #jojo #jojo writing #jjba #jjba writing #jojo’s bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken

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sunmoonandeddie · 5 years

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little ballerina (6/16)

pairing: peter parker x reader

word count: 2,435

summary: After The Snap was reversed and the world went back to normal, Natasha Romanov had one request of her team: to infiltrate and destroy the Red Room.

chapter warnings: Dirty words, violence

masterlist

a/n: Let me know what you think!

The first of the nightmares came after Wanda's little intrusion. You had spent hours in the training room with Bucky, both working with the punching bag and doing hand-to-hand combat. Even with his metal arm, you found that he was having trouble subduing you.

You found it amusing. Bucky ended up getting so frustrated and flustered that by the end, you were winning almost every match.

Training with Bucky had been nice. For one, he didn't judge you. With the others (excluding Natasha), you had felt like they were watching you like some sort of experiment. Like you were a volcano about to erupt. Granted, they weren't exactly wrong, and you knew that after what happened with Wanda earlier that day, they'd be watching even closer. But Bucky wasn't like that. He understood exactly where you were coming from and he treated you like you were more than just a prisoner.

The others might say they had rescued you, but the locked doors and cuffs that they had only taken off that morning in the lab said otherwise. You hadn't even been outside since you had tried to run.

You had eaten dinner with the group that night, though Wanda kept a wide berth. It wasn't hard to since you stuck to a little corner in the kitchen while the others mostly chose to eat on the couches on the other side of the communal area. You had picked at your Caesar salad, not having much of an appetite.

You had headed to your room immediately after, leaning against the door and sinking down to the ground. You felt so overwhelmed and all you wanted to do was curl up under the covers of that stupid bed and never come out. Pushing your hair back away from your face, you tried to ignore the burning behind your eyes that threatened tears. "Don't cry. You don't fucking cry," you muttered to yourself. "You don't cry. You're better than that."

You jumped as you heard—and felt—a knock on the door.

"Y/N?"

Fighting back a groan, you pressed the palm of your hands into your eyes, still fighting back tears. "Yeah?"

"You okay?"

Fucking Peter. Fucking Peter and his naive, happy-go-lucky, "everything's gonna be great" attitude. As much as you appreciated him checking up on you and bringing you your Chinese the night before, you didn't need a babysitter. In the back of your head, you knew that it wasn't fair for you to be hating on Peter (if only in your mind), but you needed an enemy at this very moment that you could be angry at. If you were angry, you could keep yourself from crying.

You let your head fall into your palms. "Yes, Peter, I'm fine."

There was a pause, but you knew he was still standing on the other side of the door. "... Are you sure?"

"I'm fucking fine," you bit out.

You felt a soft vibration as he let his hand fall against the door. "Okay... I'm, uh... I, I'm here if you need to talk." You bit your lip, waiting for him to walk away. "My room is the one with the MIT sticker on it."

You don't know how long you sat there before he finally walked away. Once he was gone, you found yourself crawling under the covers. You tossed and turned for what felt like forever before eventually falling asleep.

You were in the dance studio with Miss Claudia. "Again," she ordered, and you launched into an allégro.

But nothing felt right.

It felt like needles were shooting into your feet with every jump.

"Wrong!" Miss Claudia was walking in a circle around you, the concerto that was playing changing into a minor key. It took on a dark, foreboding turn as she continued to yell at you. "Wrong!"

You kept your eyes on the mirror, your arms held in a first. Miss Claudia walked behind you and you jumped as she came back around as Madame B. Her voice became much harsher as she scolded you.

"Wrong!" You yelped as she yanked on your arms, pushing it into a position that hurt like hell. You were already trying to ignore the pain in your feet.

The older woman suddenly grabbed you and threw you to the ground. As you lay there, she grabbed one of your feet, pulling a hammer and nails out of nowhere. Tears were streaming down your face as she placed a nail against the platform of your pointe shoe. She ignored your pleas as she raised the hammer, slamming it down so that the nail drove through the box and into your toes.

It took you almost thirty seconds to realize that the bloodcurdling scream that was ringing through the air was coming from you.

You clawed at the floor, desperately trying to get away as she grabbed the other foot. Tears were falling uncontrollably now and you let out another scream as she pounded a nail into your other foot. Once she let go, you crawled desperately towards the door, getting up on your hands and knees.

You could hear her coming towards you, her heels clicking menacingly on the floor. She dragged you backwards by your ankle. "Get up." When you shook your head and didn't move, Madame B yanked on your hair and pulled you to your feet. "Again."

The music started again from the radio in the corner as you tried to do the allégro. Your cheeks were stained with tears as searing pain shot up from your feet to your legs. In the mirror, you could see the blood soaking the formerly pristine, pink pointe shoes. You felt it squishing between your toes.

"Wrong!"

Her voice continued to ring in your ears as she circled around you. You danced for what felt like hours before she stopped in front of you. She raised a lighter in front of you, flicking it open so that the flame was right in front of your nose. "Again." Your heart was racing as you went through the allégro again and again and again.

But it didn't stop her from taking the lighter and setting your leotard alight. The flames engulfed you as you sobbed, but you couldn't stop dancing. Smoke was filling your lungs, and you still couldn't stop.

You jolted awake, a scream still on your lips as you felt someone shaking you. You thrashed violently against their grip until the person let you go. Trying to catch your breath, you backed up against the headboard as your vision adjusted to the darkness of your room.

Peter was sitting at the end of the bed. He was trying to catch his breath, just like you, his puppy dog eyes wide. "Y/N... Are you okay?"

"What are you doing in here?" You swallowed the lump in your throat, grimacing as you felt just how sweaty you were. You had been wearing Peter's sweatshirt for the last two days and all the sweat made it even more disgusting. Looks like you were actually going to have to wash it.

He settled down onto the bed, realizing you were okay enough to question him. "I could hear you screaming from my room."

You pushed your hair back from your face, closing your eyes. "How did you hear me and no one else did?"

Peter shrugged a little as he sat there. "Most people here are on some form of sleep meds. The only time we're supposed to wake each other is if there's an emergency—like, a, a world's gonna end type of emergency—or if someone's having a nightmare."

"So why aren't you on medication like the rest of them?" Pulling your knees up to your chest, you watched him closely. He didn't seem tired in the least bit.

"I usually am. I was just working on some new tech."

"I thought Stark was the tech genius here."

He smirked a little at you, scooting to be a little closer. You were giving him an inch and he was going to take a mile, if he could. "I, I was his intern for three years before going to college. I made all the webbing for Spider-Man myself."

Your head cocked to the side. "Spider-Man? Is that your superhero thing?"

Peter seemed shocked when he realized that you had no idea who he was, and probably didn't know much about the others either. "You, you don't know who I am?"

You felt yourself get a little defensive as you sat up, a scowl on your lips. "I've been at the Academy for eight years. There's not much communication or news coming from the outside."

He reached out to you, as though trying to get you to not shut him out again. "No, no! I'm sorry. I forgot." He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment as you relaxed once again. "I didn't become Spider-Man until about seven years ago and I wasn't an official member of the Avengers until, like, a year later."

"Oh. What do you do?"

Surprised, Peter pointed at himself. "What... What do I do?"

Nodding slowly, you waved your hand towards him. "Yeah. You're a superhero. What do you do? Captain America has the whole super soldier thing. Iron Man has the suit. The Hulk is, well, you know. What do you do?"

You could see him debating with himself as he stood up off the bed, rubbing his hands on his sweatpants. "Uh... I..." He looked around your room, glancing at the different walls. You were about to ask him what exactly he was looking for when he suddenly walked over to your wall and just... started climbing it? You watched with wide eyes, pulling your knees up against your chest again. He crawled across the ceiling and to the other wall, before standing back on his feet. "I don't have my, my, my web shooters on me, but I can, uh, I can swing myself from building to building."

"You don't strike me as the superhero type."

It wasn't meant to be mean or condescending in any way, but you realized how it must've sounded as soon as Peter's cheeks flushed a dark red. "Why, uh... Why not?"

You scooted more towards the end of the bed, briefly noting that your sheets were soaked with your sweat. "I didn't mean it that way. I just thought... You seem like the type to be in the lab, not throwing yourself into danger all the time like the others."

He looked down at his feet, his arms crossing over his chest. "What can I, What can I say? I'm the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man."

"But you started all this when you were fifteen?"

Peter nodded, letting out a long huff of air. "Yeah, yeah, I did."

You just looked at him for a long moment. Just looked. Your eyes took all of him in as you processed all this new information. "Why?"

"Why what?"

Rolling your eyes, you sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed. "Why did you become a superhero at fifteen? That's a lot of responsibility and danger for a teenager."

He didn't even really have to think. He shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes meeting yours. "I was bitten by a radioactive spider in a lab. I don't know why it was me, of everyone that was there in the lab that day, but it was. The universe chose me." He sat on the bed next to you, looking down at the ground. "I'm from New York City. It's a rough place, to say the least, and, and one day I... I, I, I had a way to do something about it. So I've never looked back."

"So you just decided that you were going to spend the rest of your life saving other people?"

All he did was nod.

You hadn't expected that from him. Hell, earlier you had just been bashing him in your head for being happy-go-lucky, and you had no idea that he was carrying such a huge weight on his shoulders.

He was your age and was saving people without a second thought for his own life or safety while you had spent eight years training to be an assassin. You had killed fourteen of your friends. On purpose. Your heart-to-heart with Bucky came back to mind as the gravity of it all suddenly hit you.

You felt that stinging behind your eyes as your hands fiddled in your lap. Clearing your throat, you glanced over at him and then back at your hands. "You're a good person, Peter."

The weight of the conversation hung in the air. It was a long moment before Peter stood, motioning to the bed. "Do, Do you wanna take a shower? I can, uh, I can change your sheets for you while you're in there."

Nodding, you stood up and padded over to the bathroom after grabbing an extra change of clothes, taking a last glance at him before heading inside and shutting the door. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you turn the shower on?" Your voice was no louder than a whisper, but the A.I. heard you, and turned on the shower.

"What temperature would you like, Y/N?"

"As hot as it can go," you murmured, tugging off the sweaty clothing and pulling your hair out of the loose bun it had been thrown into. Steam was already rising from the shower as you opened the glass door. Wincing as the scalding water hit your skin, you turned your face up to the water and just let it soak over you. You sat there for a few minutes before asking, "Is there anyway it can go hotter?"

"Are you sure, Y/N?" F.R.I.D.A.Y. asked, and you knew that if an A.I. could hesitate, she would be.

She? Since when is F.R.I.D.A.Y. her own person? You thought, before replying, "Yeah. I'm sure."

Your body felt like it was on fire as the temperature of the water raised another few degrees. Grabbing the soap, you tried to scrub yourself of the anxiety that your nightmare had given you.

You took so long in the shower that by the time you got out, Peter had changed the sheets and fallen asleep on the bed while waiting for you to come out. There was a glass of water on the bed and a small bottle of melatonin.

Not wanting to wake him up after all he had done for you, you popped two of the melatonin before crawling into the bed and falling asleep to the sound of Peter's soft snores.

#peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic

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unimpressedperson · 5 years

Text

Jackpot | pt. 2

(Found this picture in @youthstuffs , thank you for posting it)

Genre: Fluff and Crack, I guess…

Warnings: None

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x @taesbetch , Kim Namjoon x Reader

Word Counting: 4.7k

Synopsis: Nya spent her whole life in Las Vegas, she would never imagine that local knowledge would ever be useful. However, her vision changed when Kim Seokjin appeared and introduced her to a few friends, film producers, whose needed guidance through Las Vegas underrated places for a movie. She agreed in working for them, and in that moment none of their lives would ever be the same. What happens in Vegas, not always has to be kept in Vegas.

A/N: Heeeeeeeey Nya!! Finally the second part is on! Late, but not gone. Guuurl! It’s a bit more romantic chapter, yet I used it to discuss LGBT culture more further. I’m really proactive in the LGBTQ+ community and want to talk about it, since I feel a lack of queers characters with voice, personality and opinion on oneshots and fanfics here. Since it’s not properly turned to that public, I tried to mingle the storyline a bit. Hope you enjoy it :) forgive any grammar mistakes.

- x - x - x - x -

It was 3 a.m, whilst some cities around the world were down to nest and rest, Las Vegas wouldn't stop. Nighttime is their time. Everything worked after midnight, entertainment would never lack after midnight. Clubs, bars, pubs, casinos, diners, stores, nothing stopped when moon reached its peak.

Therefore, Nya defined “Paris” as the last stop. Everyone was tired and almost falling asleep. Jungkook bought new underwear at a Walmart, but decided to keep on using his new skirt. Namjoon and Yoongi took a short nap whilst being driven to “Paris”. Hoseok chugged two cans of Red Bull and feeling like his blood turned into electricity, at any moment he could grow wings and fly, or float like a balloon.

Paris was a Drag Queen club. Specifically Nya's favourite. A few from her favourite childhood memories were made there. Sequins, feathers, leotards, wigs, astounding makeup, gorgeous dresses, pump music, lip syncs, dances and fun, a whole lot of fun and caring people looking after a very young Nya. No one would ever understand completely the bond she shared with most performers inside there. They raised Nya.

The cab dropped them in front of a bright purple building, windows fully painted in black, a glass door allowing outsiders to see blinking lights, a woman dressed in suit and tie as door guard, even though a velvet rope could be seen, there was no waiting line.

Nya got closer to the guard and after a few minutes of talking, which neither one of the sleepy men registered, they were allowed in.

Ok, let’s begin with saying what’s a Ball, then the story can keep going.

A Ball organized by and for drag queens is outstandingly different from a School Ball. According to the most entertaining and famous documentary about drag queens in late 70s and 80s, as known as Paris is Burning, Ball is basically a competition where drag queens put together looks based on a previously defined theme. Sewing, glueing, buying and creating, everything can go. There is a runway to catwalk and judges, also they perform lip syncs (some even are included and count points, something in RuPaul’s Drag Race style). The winner receives a trophy or money as prize.

Nya was a clever woman, so she chose specifically a day where Paris had a Ball happening. Nothing screams queer culture as a ball.

When the group got in, a loud music by Nicki Minaj blasted from every sound box, colourful flashlights and spotlights were focused on one corner of the room, where a table covered with a silk fabric, three drag queens (Hoseok recognized one of them as being Jasmine Masters) as judges. One competitor was catwalking with a revealing outfit completed by a tiger leotard, knee-high black boots, a straightened blonde wig and a mixture of pink and black makeup. Stunning.

While Nya marched animatedly going straight to the backstage, Namjoon, Yoongi and Jungkook now were wide awake again. A lot of colours and people, all sort of wearing the most creative clothings ever saw. Some of them weren’t even in drag.

The backstage consisted in thick velvet curtains, hiding from the public's eye a mess of sparkly accessories and huge wigs, clothes and heels, some of them higher than Nya's calves. Observing everything through openings, a person tall and clearly important, with well sewed dress and expensive shoes, exhaling respect from all pores covered in layers of make up.

— Guys, this is the first, the best and the only Honey Dejour. - Nya hugged tightly someone dressed in a black and sparkly long gown, huge jewelry around her neck and wrists, high-heels, a brown wavy wig, arched high brows, black cut crease, a lot of golden highlighter and red lipstick. She held the smaller woman and kissed the top of her head, nodding at them right after. - Those are the people I’m guiding today, Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok and Jeon Jungkook. They are film producers, aunt. They want to film here and are willing to pay for it.

— Hi guys, nice to meet you. Hope no one here is banging with my kittygirl. - Honey had a very bass voice, which intimidated them, except for Hoseok. - Just kidding, she could really make the use of some dick. She’s been single for a very long time.

— AUNT! - Nya looked to the ground flustered.

— Nice to meet you, Ms.Dejour, I’m Min Yoongi. What exactly is happening tonight? - Yoongi questioned, still astonished by everything around.

— Tonight we are hosting the annual “Glamour Awards Ball”, and I’m the hostess. In a few minutes I’ll go there and announce the next category. - Dejour was almost two heads taller than Yoongi, which wasn’t small himself. - By the way, I loved your skirt… Namjoon?

— Thank you, and no, I’m Jungkook. - He shook hands with Honey.

The group kept a small talk, Honey having fun with them. Namjoon and Nya were lost watching the queens catwalking with stunning leotards. He was curious about her life, and looking for a way of asking what’s been bugging him the whole night.

— Nya, if it’s not crossing the line between professional and personal talk, how do you know that many people? - The purple-haired man asked, trying to sound chill.

— Well, it’s not professional, but I don’t care. - Nya turned to him, but looking at his neck, not straight on eyes. - I know them because of my father. See, not everyone can live off of their dreams, and my daddy was one of those people. He was a genius comedian, kind of like an underground Jerry Lewis. I never got to meet my mother, so I was raised by him and most people you guys met tonight. Also, I lived my whole life in Las Vegas so it’s something like my neighbourhood.

“Whilst my father did his stand up sessions, sometimes he dropped me with friends. Most times it was here, in Paris. Honey Dejour is basically a mother. If I’m someone with so many connections it’s because I had a gypsy life. During day at school, ‘cuz daddy worked as bartender in Caesar’s Palace, comedy at night shift. He never reached the big casinos popularity level and gave up, but he was so funny. Never had his thunder, though. That’s why I want you guys to help my friends, so they won’t give up as well.”

— Whoa. It’s quite personal, thank you for sharing. - Namjoon smiled at her, showing dimples and a bright set of teeth.

— You shared a bit of your life with me as well. - Nya felt her heart melt a little everytime Namjoon smiled, specially at her directly.

They kept staring at each other, getting closer, as if a magnetic force attracted them. Hands touched and pinkies intertwined, but before they could kiss, Jungkook pulled Namjoon’s arm and yelled gladly.

— HONEY AGREED IN HELPING US GET IN DRAG!

— Great, but what does it have to do with me? - Namjoon raised one eyebrow already sensing the danger.

— You are getting in drag too, dumbass. - Yoongi grunted, a bit thwarted. Apparently Jungkook convinced him of accepting, not something voluntary.

— Oh Lord, give me strength. - Namjoon felt zero comfortable with the idea of using high-heels.

— Stop praying! You are an atheist. - Hoseok said, also pumped up like Jungkook.

— I don't see why dragging me up would be necessary. - Namjoon shrugged shoulders, not looking straight at anyone. - It should be something only for those who really want, and is capable of living it fully.

— How can you direct and show emotions from something you never tried? - Nya touched his shoulder lightly. - Maybe feeling like Moonchild for a while will help you to understand its essence.

— In other words. Don't knock it till you try it. - Yoongi, still not fully into the idea, tried to drag his friend to it. Perhaps, some motivation would bring them to the joy of snatching new experiences.

Namjoon still took a while to accept. Honey went and announced the next category before going back and receiving a half hearted smile from Kim Namjoon. Don't knock it till you try it, his brain repeated incessantly.

— I will do it, only for the experience. - He shook hands with Honey Dejour, as if making a business deal. - Hopefully I'll a pretty lady.

— With your body structure, I can make Liu Wen beg you for exercise tips, baby. - Honey blinked and pulled Namjoon by the hand previously shook.

- x - x - x - x -

“Category is… Streetstyle Drag” - Honey Dejour announced and the crowd applauded, some cheering, others singing and dancing to the song playing. Hoseok spinned like a ballerina, body straight and firm, spine erect, right leg tensioned enough to gather force and balance, whilst the left stood in a hook shape, arms in first position. His muscle memory never failing in reminding how to move. Jungkook received his idol title, but it doesn’t mean he was the only one aiming for that. Jung Hoseok tried and failed, no agency accepted his appliance tapes.

Although, art was a passion. Regardless of what type. Hoseok lived a whole life of drama, repressing, gargantuan levels of conservatism, a tall and skinny bisexual boy who spent his free time dancing, defying every narrow-minded in Gwangju and their stupid retrograde thoughts. The count itself had always been perspiting art and conceiting themselves for something their citizens fought, died and conquered over 30 years before, however when living off dancing, singing, painting or whatever, went from the core and not only a job, the reprimand could lead people into killing themselves.

Hoseok spent a lifetime of frustrations. When his last video for YG Entertainment was sent back with a denial e-mail, he decided to try another types of art. Working part-time as a street dance teacher and spending every coin received with art supply, he met a cinema student interested in painting: the rich and underestimated Kim Taehyung.

Jung would never forget how ethereal Taehyung seemed to be, on his expensive brown coat with fur, tight jeans and white Chuck Taylors. The lights formed a halo around his head, making the brown strands shine. What a first impression. By contrast, Hoseok with a plaid blue shirt, t-shirt stained with tint, sweatpants and overused Nike Airshots, gave a very endearing vision of him.

Once they finally began talking to each other, then it never stopped. Taehyung and Hoseok got along very well, similar interests made their bond grow stronger everyday, also Jung understood some aspects of Kim which no one even tried.

Taehyung was rich, therefore had everything but the essential: happiness. Nothing expensive bought was ever with his own money, every ounce and dime belonged to his family. Decided to drop off his parents command, Kim began working as an art teacher and even gaining only a few Wongs per week, living off of it felt amazing. Independence felt amazing.

Hoseok understood why buying cheap art supply and eating Cup Noodles made the younger man feel fulfilled, and decided to help, moved from his parents home and rented a small apartment with Taehyung.

It took them only a few weeks until they were making out on the couch, but a few months to definitely engage in a relationship. Hoseok and Taehyung attended the same college, and after graduating, keep on living in Korea, specifically in Gwangju, felt like a waste of time.

Moving to London was the last time Taehyung touched his inherited money.

Hoseok and Taehyung met Yoongi during a LGBT Parade in London. They got along pretty well, even both clearly representing the total opposite in comparison with Yoongi’s personality. They were fun and talented, after speaking to Namjoon, hiring them seemed the right thing to do.

Writing a script about LGBT folks, searching about Queer culture and being able to experience it, every single second of it felt like a dream to Hoseok. His younger self would never imagine walking in heels, dress and being characterized as a drag queen. Living in Gwangju limited his perception of world, but now, staring at himself in a mirror and checking how his eyeliner was lit, impossible situations felt like lack of vision. He envisioned Moonchild afterall.

Regardless of how happy he felt so far, Taehyung being there would only improve it all. However someone had to stay in London and take care of business. Their democratic way of deciding stuff (a.k.a rock, scissor, paper) established that Kim Taehyung, Park Jimin, Jade and Emerson were the ones chosen to stay.

Spinning again, Hoseok felt how every fiber from the fabric held his figure, anchoring himself to reality. He was wearing a mid-length light-blue dress, a flowy kind of fabric, white high-heels and pantyhose. Of course he tucked (something no one imagined he knew how to do, except for Taehyung and Jimin, who were there when Jung did it for the first time and, of course, showed up at their living room looking like an eunuch), covered his eyebrows with glue and powder. Practicing what was learnt during 10 seasons of RuPaul’s Drag Race.

Whilst Hoseok was having an internal realization, Yoongi gave up on dressing up and decided to use his own clothes, but still kept the wig and makeup. He was looking good with black eyeliner, mascara, contour and purple lipstick, also the curly, long black wig really made him taller.

Jungkook tried to fit himself in a corsage, but failed, so kept his skirt and put on a white cropped, plus a pair of 10cm high heels. He indeed looked good, makeup on point, killing eyelashes and a long black wig (“Do I look like Park Bom?”).

Honey Dejour wasn’t lying when she promised to make Namjoon look pretty, but Nya could never imagine how gorgeous the result would be.

After a lot of work, Namjoon showed up in a long red dress, topped with a silk kimono and red heels, making the already tall man look like Empire State Building. Honey decided to make him embrace his facial shape, so a short black wig was chosen. Every trace and detail planned to highlight his features.

— Damn it, Namjoon! I think I’m attracted to you! - Yoongi exclaimed.

— Shut up, Yoonji. - Namjoon felt his face getting warm, glad that all layer of makeup made him look unfazed. - By the way, now I’m Sailor Joon.

— Did you just name yourself after Sailor Moon? C’mon sis, I’m the nerd one! I’m Sailor Kook! - Jungkook protested profusely.

— Why are you guys fighting? There are plenty of Sailors in that cartoon. You guys can both be Sailor Joon and Kook. - Nya rolled her eyes in a condescending way. - I’m sure Yoonji and Jay Hope agree with me.

— Since you named me, now I’m your drag daughter. - Hoseok giggled and wrapped one of his arms around Nya’s shoulder. - Hi momma!

— Only over my dead body! - Honey showed up, carrying brown paper bags with their clothings, throwing them at its respective owner. - I’m your drag mom, Jay Hope. I built you, I reclaim you. And Jungkook, you are Scarlet Kook, Sailor Kook sounds like a brand of breakfast cereals, and I’m for sure not hosting a Cap’n’ Crunch realness Ball.

After discussing and complimenting each other’s look, Honey Dejour decided they should catwalk as well (“I didn’t sweat and put four grown men in drag for nothing. I gotta exhibit my work”). So she pulled Nya outside the backstage, bringing a chair with her, the woman was now a judge. The music stopped because a new category was about to be announced.

— Category is… - Honey stared straight at the backstage. - First Time in Drag Realness. I introduce my newborn daughter, Scarlet Kook!

When “Sissy That Walk by RuPaul” began playing, Jungkook walked from behind the curtains, hips swaying from left to right, feeling himself again and being applauded. Of course, his legs were tense, and visually speaking, he looked a bit insecure up on high heels, yet Jeon Jungkook nailed his catwalk, loving every second of it: the lights, the cheers, the feeling. At the backstage, his heart pounded against ribcage, almost climbing its way up to his throat.

— Every mother has a rebel daughter. Oh believe me, I have a whole bunch of them. - The music was lowered so Honey could speak. - Now, please applaud my other newborn daughter, Min Yoonji!

The music got louder again. Yoongi opted for not strut, fearing the fall and how humiliating it would be, mainly with so many eyes focused on him. Why did he agreed on it anyways? Even not being a proper catwalk, the way he walked down and stopped in front of the judge’s table fitted his description: a rebel daughter. The cheers flustered him, yet it was a nice experience.

— Please prepare your hearts and hold your wigs, ladies, ‘cuz my daughter ain’t here to play. - Honey Dejour smiled bright to a camera taking pictures around and got back to her role as hostess. - I give you… JAAAAAY HOPE!

“Crazy In Love by Beyoncé” began playing and Hoseok left the backstage channeling his inner diva. Hips swaying, one foot after other, wig moving with the wind. Jay Hope was fierce, gorgeous and confident. The dress flowing and spotlights making everything almost divine. Walking down the runway and being applauded brought a pack of mixed emotions.

Jung Hoseok felt loved and accepted.

Not that his friends and gay community in London never loved him, but for the first time being bisexual, enjoying arts and being his grinning, delicate self felt truly right. Hoseok hated stereotypes and how people assumed stuff about him out of his preferences, so for a good part of his days on earth were wasted trying to prove ‘em wrong. Yes, I’m bisexual and date another man, but I don’t do ballet and don’t use skirts. After walking down the catwalk, all his pre-concepts about being LGBT in a mutable world changed.

Why prove everyone is wrong, when they are clearly right? They are right, but it doesn’t mean it’s wrong. They are wrong for thinking it’s right to reduce people based on their sexuality, hobbys, abilities, etc.

As Lady Gaga said in Born This Way: “Don't hide yourself in regret. Just love yourself and you're set. I'm on the right track, baby. I was born this way”.

In the end, getting in drag proved to be more than just a costume, or a persona, it was a whole political statement.

Jung Hoseok was loving himself.

After arriving back behind the thick curtains, Hoseok felt tears stream down his face. Moments of output, everyone should have one of these. It’s amazing to finally realize and accept something about yourself, once you do it, regardless of what it is, then other aspects of your life slowly adapts to your new vision.

— Last, but not least, I introduce you my newborn daughter. - Honey grinned slightly at how Nya’s face lit up with expectation. - She is tall, she is gorgeous, she is smart and she snatches hearts. I give you… Sailor Joon!!

Perhaps Honey planned it beforehand while teaching Namjoon how to tuck (by the way, he felt like his balls were in his stomach, but still found it a useful skill). In the moment she finished speaking, “I Am The Best by 2NE1” began playing and Sailor Joon decided to try walking in the rhythm. Halfway through the runway, feeling his legs shaking and sweating dumps because of how much effort was put only in walking.

Kim Namjoon, a grown ass man, empathized with babies learning how to walk.

The heels were high and hard to keep stead, his legs were long and couldn’t be seen under the dress, so Namjoon could only feel them touching each other. Beside not being able to see where he was stepping. Is that the right equation to a concussion? Absolutely.

Even lasting only a few minutes, it felt like hours of walking and when Namjoon finally attained himself to the judge’s table, his legs somehow tangled on each other and his fall was almost epical. If Homer witnessed Kim Namjoon nosediving from the top of 12cm high heels, he would probably write a rhapsody about it. A tall building being demolished, that’s what watching him hitting the cold hard ground felt like.

Namjoon saw his legs going up and suddenly his head crashing against the wooden floor. Everything blacked out for a few seconds, maybe of embarrassment or because the fall was actually titanic. Honey and Nya showed up to help him getting on his feet again and also guided him to backstage, where Jungkook wrapped an arm around hyung. The woman also sneaked behind him and found a chair under piles of fabrics, sitting him down and watching the way Kim propped his head back and covered his face with one hand, mouth still tasting like blood.

— I want an alcohol beverage and pretend I don’t exist. I’d really appreciate if everyone respected my final demands.- Namjoon babbled, still feeling his mind spinning. - Also, some ice would be great.

— Let me grab the drink and some ice. - Yoongi wisely offered, since he was the only one not wearing heels.

Five minutes and not a word was spoken. Honey Dejour had to stay and announce the winners from every category. Everyone stared at Namjoon looking like he fought with his heels and was defeated. Still ashamed and cursing at himself for what occurred. Yoongi emerged from the crowd holding a glass with whiskey and ice in a plastic bag.

Sipping on the whiskey and holding the bag of ice over the new wound. Heels left aside, he wanted to burn them, but since it belonged to Honey Dejour, only taking off seemed decent enough.

After half an hour, Yoongi, Hoseok and Jungkook went outside to party, leaving Nya and Namjoon alone. Still silent, absorbing the fall, the rise and the whiskey.

— How’s your head? - Nya asked, sitting on the ground beside Namjoon, one of her hands leaning over his clothed knee.

— I haven’t had any complaints. - Namjoon replied grinning, still a bit grumpy, but the alcohol was soothing his pain away. Or was it the ice?

They stood there, smiling and silently appreciating each other’s company. Even though the song was making his head latches a little, he would never ruin the night for everyone else. Staying there and drinking something was good enough. Also Namjoon had zero intention of leaving the backstage, not after almost staining the wood with his brain and blood.

Namjoon’s hand slided from his chest and reached for Nya’s one. They held hands and stared at each other for a while. She wanted to kiss him, but making him fall again would be cruelty [ha, pun intended!]. Odds seemed to be at her favour, ‘cuz after a few more seconds, himself bent down, the fingers previously intertwined, now holding her chin lightly and their lips connected in a liplock.

Fireworks! Party! Confetti! Nya wanted to jump and punch fists in the air, but enjoying the moment felt more appropriate. Slowly, lips opened and tongues connected, however, Namjoon’s position wasn’t quite comfortable so he got back up, but smiling at her. Dimples, those dimples!

They instinctively stood on their feet, the bag of ice being left aside. His cold hand made Nya feel goosebumps, but her arms still wrapped around Namjoon’s waist, whilst his hands held her face. They kissed once again, now actually losing themselves and allowing mouths to open, tongues to tangle and hormones flowing freely.

Such a romantic moment, which was interrupted by Yoongi, Jungkook and Hoseok coming back cackling. Namjoon and Nya separated, pretending to be doing nothing, however Min Yoongi saw and looked at his friend with disapproval.

— What time is it now? - Nya questioned, hands stucking on her back pockets.

— Almost six in the morning. - Yoongi checked his phone quickly, and stared at Namjoon again. - I think it’s time for us to conclude the night and head back to hotel. I’m exhausted and Sailor Joon is probably needing some pain killers. We can go check thrift shops during afternoon.

— I agree. - Nya saw Jungkook and Hoseok pouting.

They returned the outfits to Honey Dejour, traded phone numbers (business still was a priority) and left, stopping a cab.

- x - x - x - x -

The group arrived at the hotel. Hoseok and Jungkook went to their shared room, Yoongi and Namjoon did the same, but the humour was catastrophically different between both groups. One was tired and sleepy, the other was tense and in verge of a discussion.

The rooms were big. Two double beds, cotton fiber bed sheets, fluff pillows and thick duvets. There was a bathroom, one wardrobe filled with towels, shampoos, conditioners, soaps (both liquid and bar). The television was big and connected on internet, so the lodgers could watch Netflix or Youtube.

Namjoon entered the bedroom and headed straight to the bathroom, bringing a towel and his pajamas. Taking a long time and leaving a trade of steam out of it, he laid down under the duvet, but Yoongi told him to stay awake. Apparently they had something to talk about.

— Man! It’s not right! - Yoongi yelled at Namjoon. - You can’t date someone, not while we have the fucking rope ready to hang us!

— What? Now I can’t make out with someone? It’s not like I’m proposing to Nya! We kissed! - Namjoon was sitting on his bed, using Ryan pajamas, ready to sleep, but still arguing with Yoongi. - We met in person 12 hours ago, I'm not in love or obsessed with her!

— You are not in love with her YET! Beside, I would extract your brain through the nose and yeet it in a trash can if you somehow fell for someone in 12 hours of wandering around Las Vegas! - The man felt really frustrated, his temples almost visually pulsing. - You can fuck with every single human being around Las Vegas, and I wouldn’t care! I’m not your dick! But Nya is our guide, she is working for us! Also, you are getting attached, but know pretty well how things will turn! - Yoongi was also sitting on his own bed, common white pajamas and wet hair. - You are not the kind of guy who dates someone! You have affairs and get tired! I know you for a decade, man! I’m sick of seeing you dumping people and becoming grumpy! That project we are searching for places to film is important. It can save our finances! But if you get involved now, the break up will probably happen one week before we start filming. Everytime it happens, the movie becomes shitty because of your humour! And Kim Namjoon, I swear, I won’t allow you to ruin this. Not this time! Not after your dramatical break up with Barbara and the critics detonating our movie. Hoseok and Taehyung worked way too hard on that script, only for your horny ass not pay a jot attention to it!

— Go fuck yourself, Yoongi! - Namjoon had nothing to say. Yoongi was right, he knew it, but would never admit it. Never in a million years.

— You fucking know I’m right! - Yoongi pronounced harshly, drops of spit flying from his mouth. - If you end up getting into Nya now, you are going to make a shitty movie after breaking up! You surrender yourself easily, and I don’t care most times, but after our last movie, we need to have you 100% focused.

— I’m focused. I was the only one not punchy! I accepted to be dressed up! I’m 100% into the project! I could marry and divorce someone, that it wouldn’t affect how I’m going to direct! - Namjoon was now spitting too, with rage and frustration. - You, Min Yoongi, are not the only one worried sick about finances and hating the idea of possibly working for some cocky entrepeuner with a big company.

— If you for yourself don’t stop hitting on Nya, then I’ll end it myself. - Yoongi assumed a gloomy expression, his body language screaming discomfort, with a hand covering his face, legs moving incessantly and ears getting red. - I ain’t gonna allow you and your romantic ass to ruin my career, business and life.

— You are preposterous. - Namjoon whispered in disappointment and laid down again, covering his head with the duvet, finishing their argument in the most childish way possible.

To be continued...

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