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iznsfw · 2 months

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Lucid Dream

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 7 - Kim Minju

IZ*ONE's Kim Minju x Male Reader Smut

8,525 words

Categories | married man!You, wife!Wonyoung, daddy kink, degradation, rough sex, OC is not a good person

Content warning | cheating, humiliation, Wonyoung slander (it hurt to write but I read "Gone Girl" by Gillian Flynn recently so I guess that went into the whole wife-hating thing)

Skipping again a bit (still will do Chaeyeon and Chaewon and everyone because IZ*ONE best girls). Expect a commission and an IZ Days of Xmas fics this month again <3 I love you all, you make me happy. And as always, sorry for the inconsistency!

Wonyoung is beautiful.

You stare at her as she undresses in front of the full-length mirror. She’s the kind of woman whose vanity seldom rolls eyes because her adoration for herself—smoothing down her dark hair, strictly adhering herself to that keto diet, doing her skincare with the dedication of one who prays nightly to god (pick any)—is wholly justifiable. Look at her. Anyone would understand.

The dress she wore for her hosting show slips off her body. Her abs reflect in the mirror, the result of hard work in the gym. Wonyoung’s waist is impeccable. Magazines have written over and over tips to attain it but it seems that the signature Bratz doll feature can only belong to Wonyoung. The makeup was cleaned up by her stylist but her eyes still shine, her lashes are still long, and her lips are still plump.

Wonyoung is standing there in nothing but her underwear, an attractive set of lace.

Wonyoung is the perfect female form, a goddess from above choosing a man from below.

Wonyoung is beautiful, a feat that no matter how amazing besides true, she remains the same old fucking bore.

“Did you like my MCing, babe?” she asks.

“Uh-huh.”

Her legs, long and thin, move in planned strides down the room. To the bed. You know where this is going.

Your feet are killing you. Recline, welcoming yourself into the softness of the expensive mattress and pillows your wife paid for all in all. “Wonyoung, I’m tired.”

She’s a celebrity. Of course, endless days filled to the edge with schedules chase after her. She ought to understand. The nights are her only rest hours, yet with this energy, it’s like Jang Wonyoung never gets exhausted. Always bubbly, always sweet, always so seductive.

All these are positive traits that any other man would adore and own had you not married her.

Wonyoung makes an adorable sigh. “But you say that everytime,” she replies sullenly.

She’s pushing her lips out into this cute pout while her brown puppy eyes beg you to give in like you used to. Once upon a time, you were putty around Wonyoung. Never could give an answer without your voice shaking. Never could come near her without blushing.

She’s the prettiest woman in the world.

You’re the most awful, undeserving man in the world, for all you could think, as you look at her, is: Fucking bitch.

“Well, maybe it’s because I’m always tired.”

“How about,” she puts a finger on her chin, “I do the job for you?”

Her knees are bruised. You notice this when she drops to them so she could pull your pants to the ground. So she’s been doing this for so long? Lowering herself for you? Sucking you off? You thought that she’d get the hint by now: you don’t want to have sex with her.

So instead, she uses her mouth. Better than her pussy anyway. What are you saying? She’s a tight woman. But it’s the same thing everyday: she gets on your cock and you hear her annoying voice straining as she rides you. Her cunt, soaked and useless, makes you want to call her its name. She’s always needy. It isn’t flattering when you don’t reciprocate it.

It’s a goddamned chore. Wonyoung’s throat welcomes you. The other way around, actually: your cock welcomes a claustrophobically closed passageway and has to deal with it until you cum. It’s an unwanted visitor. She rang the bell, said hi, and you let her in. Doesn’t mean you like her there.

“Doing so good, baby,” you say. Oh, yeah, doesn’t mean you mean it either—although you do feel Wonyoung smile happily. She’s happy when she makes you happy. When she makes you give her the illusion that you have any happiness in this worn-out marriage.

Her lips seal around you. You can feel them suckling. Your knees are tense. The moans are forced, though. Hearing them come out from your own mouth makes you want to place a pillow over your face and press it down as hard as you can.

She slides you down her throat. Admittedly, you love the way she chokes. Her eyes get all watery, like she’s crying from pain. That sounds appealing.

You’re a critically messed up man, you know. But they’re what make the world go ‘round. Why do you think they write romance books about them—the bad boy, the mafia boss, the killer? Plus, one of those “terrible” people inspires the biggest Korean celebrity to continue hosting, dancing, and singing. So who’s so terrible now?

To conclude, if anything, you’re the one responsible for Wonyoung’s success.

To conclude, you groan as desperately as you can then release in her mouth. Wonyoung gags. Another pretty sound. Her eyes look up while she attempts to swallow. Saliva sticks to her chin. Semen floods up to the roof of her mouth. It reminds you of how it ends up there more often than in her womb.

You would’ve made beautiful children with Wonyoung in another world where she wasn’t famous and you actually loved her. You would have been a softer, kinder man. She would have been a person who’s easier to love and make love with.

“Wonyoung, Wonyoung, that… was incredible.”

If you weren’t a director, you’d be the one on camera. You’re a great actor when it comes to your wife. Your incompetence in the house is masked by husbandly exhaustion; an artificial gaze of attentiveness hides your indifference to conversation.

She smiles coquettishly. “I try.”

The wide closet parts. She chooses a pair of silk pajamas that hang around her thin frame. She climbs onto the bed and wraps an arm around you. Her skin is always cold to the touch. Like she’s dead or something. How interesting.

You stroke her hair. “I’d return the favor but… I’m actually gonna pass out. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She kisses your forehead. Wonyoung’s a sweet girl. “Good night.”

You smile. Say it back. Her eyelids flutter closed. Her palms are flat against each other and are placed under her cheek. Cute, you guess. She sleeps.

You don’t.

You should have—nothing good ever happens after midnight.

2:05 a.m., more specifically.

Amazing how time slips through your grasp like air. You reach and reach, desperate for a return, desperate for a flash to the past. As always, your efforts aren’t fruitful. The seconds pour through the pinched waist of the hourglass and you can’t stand it on its other head. You’re unable to revert back to the moment you took your arm from underneath your wife’s skull. The moment you opened your phone. If you hadn’t, maybe things would have been different.

But it’s past two, and you’re resting your back on the pillowy headboard with your phone in your hands. The circumstances just play right into danger: Wonyoung’s asleep, the night is eerily quiet, and the screen is there, awaiting the secret routine. Which girls would you cum for today? Why aren’t your thumbs clicking over censored sites?

Your feed shows a naked woman, her eyes staring up and her mouth wide. Scroll past that—you prefer the amateur videos, where the expressions balance between exaggerated and naturally provoked. A ton of videos could help in the bathroom where you take your nightly “shower,” and it’s not one of those.

Maybe you need the real thing.

Look at Wonyoung. Perhaps you should have let her ride you just so you could cum in a warm pussy again. After all, it’s the least you could do when you were once a fan of her. That’s how everyone starts: puppy-like adoration. But she doesn’t have the star quality she once did onstage; the coy thoughtful princess you envisioned her as. That’s why you haven’t fucked her in weeks.

You’re about to wrap your hand around your cock and ready yourself for another night of conflicted pleasure. This video is perfect for that already. You could jerk yourself off then get a good night’s sleep. Simple. This is the safest option for a dangerous want. By just watching, you’re not cheating on your wife. It’s just porn. Jerk off, cum, cum again probably, then sleep. Nobody gets hurt.

“Fuck me… please,” whimpers the woman in the video. Her legs are spread open. Her partner’s swiping his cock at her lips while she looks at him with equal hunger, equal desire. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Then, a text message notifies you, peeking from the top of your screen. It dares you to click it.

And it says the exact same thing.

fuck me please, i cant take it anymore.

i miss you

You look around, like you’re afraid someone might see it. There’s only the dimness of your bedroom that greets you. It’s safe, but this message isn’t.

The number is familiar. Has one of your friends gone crazy? Or did they send a text to the wrong person? Take it for spam, a perfectly coincidental one, or a scam, a typical, preying-on-the-married, pwning message.

But why would a contact spam you at a time so strangely perfect?

Don’t bother. Your fist works on your dick as you watch the video. The woman’s so wet that although she isn’t squirting, her juices start to stick to the man’s thighs. Her mouth is wide open as he finally pounds her.

What you’d give to have good sex like that again.

XXX-XXX-XXX sent a video message.

Fine. Click it, you’re curious.

Oh, so apparently, the answer is your marriage.

The video shows a face that’s more intimate than familiar. The ebony-black hair already tells you who she is, as does her body. Her form is encased in a floral tank top and nothing else. Although her chest is covered, she’s still a little daring with how her nipples stamp the fabric. She turns herself around to let you admire the curve of her wide hips and her round butt.

There’s only one woman with a body so perfect. And she’s the one and only Kim Minju.

There are reasons for everything. This is yours for why you didn’t give this number a name:

No one needs to know just from a text that you cheated on Jang Wonyoung.

That was so long ago, back when you were still boyfriend and girlfriend. You were drunk and missed Wonyoung’s old self. Why did she have to be such a bitch? Why did she dedicate herself to work and leave you dry? It’s not like the industry would go bankrupt without her. Minju came over, listened to your complaints—every little whine about Wonyoung being busy, every little jab at her workaholic character—then said something along the lines of, why don’t you have a little fun while she’s away.

And you thought… yeah, that was a really great idea.

That was the beginning of the end. After multiple secret meet-ups and raunchy sex in alleyways, you didn’t contact Minju again. You forgot her. You thought she did, too. She should have understood that your infidelity, albeit alluring, would be a thing of the past.

But here she is, in your messages, with a pornographic clip of herself in a round-cornered bubble. She’s waiting for a reply.

Although you’ve long lost your aspirations to be a better husband, you type what a good man should. This man is proper, faithful, and loving. He loves his wife only and the only other people he loves with this deep of a bond is his family.

Stop texting me or I’ll block you.

It’s not enough. You’re not a good man. You aren’t proper or faithful or loving or any of that shit. You were about to masturbate to an internet celebrity after turning down sex with your wife. What about that makes you a good person?

:( you miss me sooooo bad it’s pathetic, Minju replies.

You look at her again. You may not be able to turn back time with your metaphorical hourglass, but you can turn this hourglass body into any position you want. You could push her against a window for all to see, perhaps fuck her to the floor, or slam her on a desk like a teacher would to a test paper. Minju would let you do anything to her.

Stop it.

She really has to. As much as you dislike Wonyoung, she’s your wife, and you vowed on your wedding day to only have eyes for her.

But you’re only one man against a body like Minju’s that curves in every right place.

Three circles float up and down in a contained bubble before she texts you back:

alright…what a pity :( i’m already outside!! i guess ill have to go back…

You’ve never bolted out of bed so fast.

You look back at Wonyoung as you stand in the doorway. She’s still in deep slumber. Now, are the curtains closed? The entrances locked? Scan the house thoroughly, until you inch your way to the front door.

Hesitate. You didn’t know you had a conscience but here it is. It tells you to wonder if Minju really is behind it, like she said. She knows how to use the privilege of being Wonyoung’s close friend. That’s how she came to your house like she used to with no worry for paparazzi or suspicion. Best friends don’t fuck their best friends’ husbands, right?

Open the door. This one did.

Minju grew more beautiful in her absence. Her hair is silkier this time and her shy smile is brighter. The long coat is smoothed by her fingers, and you wish you could be the brown piece of fabric her pale hands run down. What makes you guilty for thinking it, even when you’ve done it, is the fact that she looks so innocent. It’s like it would be a crime to even buy her a drink.

How could she be innocent with that photo she sent? The time you spent together: you folding her over a table and promising to fill her up? Fucking her while Wonyoung is busy and counting on you to welcome her home? Sending nudes like there’s no tomorrow? Nothing about Minju is pure, yet she acts like she could do no wrong.

“Minju,” you say. Your voice sounds fragile. She has a way of breaking you befote you’re breaking her into breaking another bed.

She blinks theatrically. Everything she does is angelic. “Glad you opened the door.”

The knob is cold in your fist. It chills your animalistic brain and urges you to consider the consequences. Right, it says, here’s what a human—a good one—would think. If Wonyoung wakes and sees you with Minju, she’d have a lot of questions. If paparazzi are somehow hiding in the forest that extends to acres before your house, everyone would know you’re cheating on her. Most of all, you’re married, monogamy and everything.

So what will it be? This is your last and only chance to send her away.

You know what you have to do. Take a few breaths. “You have to leave. I’m not joking, it isn’t right.”

In response, Minju unravels the ribbon of the layers sealed around her waist. It falls apart. You do, too.

She’s a real danger. As it turns out, the girl isn’t wearing anything underneath that trench coat. She’s an artist’s naked muse—bare long legs, wide hips, and a sizable bust that has sculptors carving something else.

The cold hardens her pink nipples. You notice how her breasts are much bigger than your wife’s. How her hips are more tempting to grab, so you do. How her body is meatier, a lot more enticing that you wouldn’t refuse a day without touching it.

Minju fuels your infidelity, and you won’t stop for it if it kills you.

She simpers, fingers curling into your work shirt. “Still wanna make me leave,” she asks, “when you can breed me all night long?”

You laugh, huffing it out as you pull her inside and close the door behind her. Minju looks gorgeous pressed to it. She looks gorgeous in whatever situation, actually. Her thighs squish against the carved design and look thicker as a result. More reasons to dive into that shaven cunt and abuse it.

“You’re not leaving until we make a fucking mess, Minju.” You take your shirt off. Throw it on the ground. “And we better make it quick.”

“Of course.” She nods. She’s slyer than a fox, but she submits to you without a second thought.

You lean in to kiss her. The heat is unbearable. You can feel it from Minju’s body transferring to yours. It’s the effect of her natural skills as your personal slut: trying to fit her tongue deeper in your mouth while you pull her close like she’d dare to run away.

You haven’t gotten this hard for anyone else. It’s always been Minju you fall for. You miss the way she kisses, the way she roams her hands all over your torso, the way she’s goddamned insatiable. Feeling it all now in one, heated moment makes you dizzy. You’re taking in too much of her, but without her, you’d go thirsty again.

Your fingers are in her hair; hers are on your waist. Your teeth are clamped down on Minju’s bottom lip; hers are apart and allow soft moans to pass through—one, two, three. You fit each other in so many wicked ways. They did say misery loves company.

Open your eyes. The dream doesn’t stop. Minju’s still pushing her mouth in your face and you’re letting her. You don’t know if you ought to be relieved or downright horrified. You’re cheating on Wonyoung again with a woman whose body is just a bit nicer. You should be furious at yourself. You aren’t.

You’ve made out with each other on the way to the dining room. You and your wife worked hard for its designed walls and sturdy, well-furnished ornaments. A lot of money was raked out to make this house the best place to call home. So, why do you want to ruin it?

Well, because of her.

Minju leans on the dining table with a funny smile on her face. “She really doesn’t do it for you, huh?” she asks.

It makes you wince how you know who she’s talking about. Who else is she referring to other than poor Wonyoung? Poor, skinny, ugly Wonyoung?

Nibble at her earlobe. Hear little gasps come out of her. “Don’t talk about her,” you say.

You don’t want to have any afterthoughts about fucking Minju. Besides, being reminded that you’re disloyal to a woman who loves you very much is painful, even to a man like you.

Wonyoung is an angel. Minju isn’t—but you run after her to darkness.

“Ohh, come on, I know I’m better than her.” Minju squirms with erotic moans. Your kisses are going south, and she loves their little detour. “You don’t fuck her like you fuck me.”

When was the last time you worshiped Wonyoung? Like what you’re doing to Minju now? Your lips haven’t passed over it in ages that you probably wouldn’t know where the bigs and smalls of her body are. Like there’s anything to know.

“Actually,” you snort, “I don’t fuck her at all.”

You stop chuckling. That was the wrong thing to say. That was the wrongest thing to say out of the millions of other cocky phrases you could’ve thrown to Minju. The look on her face, the one that’s of pride and submission and dangerous knowledge united, tells you to watch your mouth.

You’re five seconds minimum too late to listen.

Minju grins. There’s the answer she wanted. “That’s how it is? Just looking at a girl and thinking you wanna stamp a divorce approval on her forehead? Jesus. This is why I never got married.”

“First off, nobody put a ring on you because you’re a slut, Minju.”

“That’s only the third reason.” Her fingers drape the sides of your face and tugs you in. You’re invited to the sight of her infallible tits. “These are the first two.”

The girl isn’t as busty as that woman Wonyoung likes to call her industry mom, but you bet they’re better. No, it’s a matter of truth. Minju’s boobs aren’t too big or too small; just the perfect, filling size to hold onto when you’re railing her from behind.

You choose to suck on them for now. It’s like a trip down memory lane when you kiss down her neck and collarbone. You remember how good her smooth, soft skin feels beneath you, how her moans are a favorite tune. Minju bites her lip while you do so to her shoulder.

It’s crazy to think that she just so happened to be born with this. She was born to be a pretty face with a sex-defined body that you pull and push and pry apart. Best thing is, she’ll lay back down and beg for more. It’s like she knows her purpose, which would’ve shot down her dignity and humanity.

Her nipple pops in your mouth. Your sucking guarantees its hardness, and Minju starts whining. She arcs her body, wanting something rougher. Thus, you seize the span of her hip to rub her pearl with fierce speed.

“Oh, fuck, god—” What others might take for blasphemy, you take for praise. Minju’s already soaking wet. She would have had embarrassing laundry to do if she wore panties. Maybe it’s a good thing she arrived wearing nothing.

She’s still so sensitive. You caress her clit after a few kisses down her midriff. She fidgets needily like you aren’t already touching her. You’re nearly right—this touch is nothing when she needs something harsher. That something involves you treating her less than a human being, putting her down and tearing at her hair.

“Please just fuck me,” she whispers. “Breed me, breed me, breed me—”

Yeah, that’s what she wants.

You don’t need further motivation, not when you’re presented with the prettiest pussy you’ve ever seen. Her fat lips are soaked. They frame the clitoris you’ve been stimulating that shines with slick. Then there’s the tiniest hole below it that begs to be used.

Your digits shove past all tightness. Her wetness allows a deeper exploration, so you curl your digits like you’re beckoning the orgasm forward. You know how easily you can get it out of her. All it needs to get Minju cumming around you is a slap, roughness, and giving her what she wants anyway. You know your methods, she knows hers. It’s a recognizable cycle that despite this, you can’t break.

Part your fingers widely to spread her. She’s so wet that she soaks your knuckles. There’s an ocean inside her waiting to be waved to shore. A storm, too, brews from the base of her throat as Minju whimpers. Her body lifts off the table but you force her down on it. She isn’t going anywhere, not without a fight.

Oh, and fight she does. She was an idol before an actress, so her muscles still memorize the circling motions that repeat on your fingers rather than move onstage. She sang once. That was a long time ago yet her voice sounds perfect as it strains her moans. Every little thing she does is a reflection of her past.

That’s why when she leans back, pupils dilating north, and says “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” you get deja vu.

Your palm hits her clit, adding impact to your strokes. “There you go, little slut,” you snarl. “Are you happy now? Maybe even a little grateful?”

If Minju’s ass isn’t pressed down on the glass mantling your dining table, it hovers so her pink little hole receives you better. It’s not without the help of her weak hands clinging to the table for dear life, but she seems to be losing her balance. Her hips are shuddering. Her beautiful face is squeezed up into a blissful wince. Her breaths are becoming blunt little gasps that say none of the gratitude you want to hear.

You slap her boob. Red blooms from her pale skin that deepens when another impacts her bosom. The recoil dizzies you. If anyone’s getting the impression that you’ll slap her bouncy tits until you hear a proper word of thanks, they’d be right. First impressions are right just for once.

“T-thank you—” Her voice cracks, breaking like her. “Fuck, shit, thank you, thank you.”

Squeeze her cruelly and pull on the perky nipple. Your thrusts become mindlessly paced. Your hand returns to your cock while the other ruins her pussy. The pleasure is telepathic. It’s connecting you; her screams and squirms make you do the same. The electricity firing up in your veins is a shared network. When you point your fingers to her spot, she arcs her back in the same direction. How beautifully fucked up is that?

“That’s not enough. You didn’t come here for nothing. What do you want, Minju?”

Minju babbles. You got your gratitude but not a proper answer. To be fair, she can’t speak when you’re fucking her like it’s your dick inside her, and when your lips are all over her collarbone.

“And you better keep quiet,” you add, curling your thrusts, “or Wonyoung‘s gonna hear. Do you really want her to know her precious friend is a big slut?”

However, despite the rumors she starts, Minju could be a very good girl when needed.

“Need you to make me cum,” she whispers. Her midriff is fluid as water with the way it rolls, showing off the hourglass shape of her waist and a soft tummy. “Do everything to me you can’t with Wonyoung. P-please, I can’t take it.”

Even if she can’t (wrong by the way), you’ll make her. She asked for it. She walked up to your house with a purpose: to be used, to be treated like less of a human being. So it’s understandable that you slam her down the table and seal a hand around her neck.

She’s so light that the forceful push doesn’t break the fragile glass. But there’s something of hers instead that’s going to be broken.

“Oh fuck! It’s so–” Minju’s eyes roll back. “Ohh… oh!”

Little sparks of wetness shoot in the air. Your pace turns merciless. With just three fingers, you puppet her body. Strings are pulled—her arms raise and her long legs strain to pull you in. You push and she keens, you pull and she yells. You’re making her desecrate the place with her water.

“C-can’t breathe.” A squeeze of her beautiful features—eyelids wrinkling, mouth parting, cheeks filling with scarlet—occurs before she squirts again. She whimpers pathetically, sounding so pitiful you want to laugh. “Ah, fuck, daddy—”

Something stirs inside you. When men hear that name, it ought to feel purely platonic and familial. They’d hear it from their daughter and feel compelled to protect them from men who’d do to them what you do to Minju. But you much prefer hearing that two-syllable word when it comes from a naked woman squirting all over the floor, from whom once you register it, you’re urged to pin her down, tie her down, hold her down.

Ironically, you release her. That isn’t because it’s over though. “On your knees. Follow me.”

Minju releases a gasp, grateful for the oxygen. The color returns to her face yet she barely has the energy to get off the table. You’re a generous man, and hey, it still counts as helping. So you yank her hair and force her on the ground. She fucking moans, a feat deserving of a healthy spank to her ass.

You walk to the living room. She follows you withher hands and knees bearing the cold tiles. You lead her to the place where you spend your time watching movies, rehearsing, and hanging out with Wonyoung if she’s ever home.

Speaking of, glance at the door of your bedroom. It’s still closed. It’ll stay that way.

Look down after wondering why Minju’s noisier. She’s playing with herself on the floor with no care for the cold chill of the tiles or the little dirt wedged between them. She lightly rubs her abused clit, quivering at the contact. You expect that from her—she’s corrupted, an irredeemable cause. She’ll get herself off anytime anywhere.

But what’s unexpected is what those watery eyes are focused on: you, in a framed picture on the wall. You look younger, happier. You’re in formal garments standing next to Wonyoung in a church.

It was you on your wedding day.

You spit on Minju. “Filthy cumslut.”

The drool slides down her cheek like a tear. She darts her tongue out and licks it. One could’ve thought it was candy considering the lift of a smile.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” she says resolutely. Her fingers still toy with her entrance. They won’t serve her well when there’s a bigger, better thing behind your pants to do it for her.

Your pants are already off. “Get up. Get the fuck up,” you command, but you do it for her.

You grab her neck and force her up. The look on her face is addicting, the way the shock turns into carnal need, the way she bites her lip. You press her to the wall, right under the framed wedding pictures, and finally plunge yourself inside her.

“Oh, oh, oh!”

What did Minju do to get this tight? Her walls are squeezed closer around you than you remember. They’re still wet from her squirting, easing your burden of fighting against the tautness of her core.

Her groans are pitched just like how you pitch yourself in her and make her fight for it. She tries everything: gathering the strength she has to push her ass into your crotch, rolling her body, looking back to watch your cock disappear between her lips.

“So big, daddy!” she cries. With a lick of her lips, she turns to face you. “Mmm, d-do you ever get this massive when you’re fucking Wonyoung?”

That seals it. There’s no restraint in using her body. Her plump ass leading to her toned back is a temptation by itself. You’d burst all over it (maybe in it) if you weren’t already firm in breeding her. But dear god—it rises and descends into your angled pumps so effortlessly that you aren’t afraid to spank it like you’re angry at her.

“Keep your whore mouth shut.”

Spank after spank you bestow and you realize, oh, you and Minju are really made for each other. The more her ass reddens, the more hot pain sparks on your palm. She throws herself back hard, you piston her harder.

Your puzzle pieces stick together so perfectly that it’s a shame you didn’t meet under different circumstances. She could’ve been an adorable girl next door and you could have been a guy looking to slip her a love letter. She would’ve been your loving girlfriend, a beautiful wife, someone you’d actually enjoy touching, so different from the woman asleep in the bed upstairs.

But that’s never happening. Minju’s a slut through and through, and she’ll forever be a sin you won’t go to confessions for. She was made to be fucked then discarded of when she’s no longer of use. You see it in the way she’s in a mantra of craziness, the way she yells, the way she looks back at you like she’s daring you to hurt her.

You choose the dare rather than to tell her the truth. You curl her hair into a fist and pull her into you.

“God, I’m so close.” Minju’s trembling body grows warmer in your touch. “I’m gonna cum all over your big gorgeous cock. I can’t hold out longer, daddy.”

Your teeth dig into her earlobe. You could make her bleed and she’d still find a way to make the pain heavenly. “I thought I told you to be quiet. Is Wonyoung waking up and ending your life worth it for this?”

“What if I say yes?”

“Fuck.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice, making her see you’d give her away to get a night with me? You’ll give up all this stupid shit t-to be my daddy. Because Wonyoung’s just sooo worthless, isn’t she?”

Savage her cunt and shove your fingers down her mouth just so she could shut up. You love this. Minju’s always so ready for you.

No, actually—now that you think about it, you hate it. You hate how she’s curvier than your wife, how she’s more alluring than she could ever be, how she moans despite the blockage in her throat. Everything about her is so sexy that the sound of her choking up spit makes you throb.

This is the wrong time to have a conscience. You’ve already split her apart. You’ve already got your fingers in her hair that pull hard to the point that damage is highly likely. You’ve already—

—got Minju screaming, biting down on your skin as her legs spread. What a strange thing to have as a natural reflex. That’s all she knows to do: spread her legs, hope her innocent face attracts a guy into her home and his dick into her pussy. Her skin, white as snow, has become impure with red blemishes. You see her purple-bruised neck flex when she yells into your hand.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Minju yells. Her fingernails leave fine scratches on the wall. “Fuck, I’m squirting so much I don’t know what to do—oh fuck!”

You bump the manic girl up on your knee before spreading her legs. A godless squirt of her juices hits Wonyoung’s face, the savior being the glass protecting the picture. Others bless their homes with water blessed by esteemed priests; you like to stand out. Choose to have Minju’s unholy juice flood the photo you once held dear.

Did something possess you? An evil spirit, a god of fertility? All are clichés but you can’t help but think so when you notice how fast you’re pumping Minju. It’s like greed’s finally reigned you. It’s difficult to resist. Minju just wrings your cock perfectly dry with her tight cunt, keeps you speedy with her desperate moans. You’re vandalizing her with your climax and she doesn’t want to be clean ever again.

“You think you’re special, Minju?” You press her to the ruined picture. Her side profile mashes on the glass. “You’re nothing, only a useless hole, just like that bitch. Now clean it up.”

Her eyes light up in shock. Excitement? “What?”

You pull her head back in order to have her full lips pressed against Wonyoung’s face. The clear squirt is still dripping from it. Minju’s face is red, and although your cock left her moments ago, she insists on tensing like it’s there. Is that how she lives? Her way of bonding is riding on the high she got the night before and the night before that. She always has sex in her mind that thoughts of it occur to her as they would to an animal.

That’s right; she’s an animal. Perhaps even a dog would have more self-control than her, ironically.

“Lick your mess,” you command. “Now.”

Minju whimpers. You bury your fingernails in her scalp until she loses her fake hesitance. Her tongue glides on Wonyoung’s face and relieves her of the mess. Her lips part and close, taking in her own taste.

She looks like she’s making out with your wife. Her pretty face smudges the other pretty face in the picture and it’s so much hotter than it’s got the permit to be. Wonder how it’ll look if she’s actually kissing the real Wonyoung—picture them with their legs locked together and tongues coming out to play—and you’re hard enough for another round.

“That’s right. You want to be Wonyoung so bad? You want to be the one I drive into the bed everyday? So fucking make out with her.”

“Y-yes, daddy. Oh.” Minju’s moans fog the glass. “I taste delicious.”

It’s probably a hygienically reprehensible thing to do. But her mouth is dirtier than the picture anyway. You force her lips deeper into it until you pull her away, satisfied.

Not quite.

Rub her clit a few more times. Hose her squirt all over the floor. You’ll have a mess to clean up. Oh, there’s all the evidence: her squirt on the floor, her lipstick in the shape of a languid kiss on the picture frame, the mess she made in the dining table where you ate her rather than your food.

But it’s all worth it. An evil idea plants and sprouts in your mind. “Bedroom.”

Minju pants. Her hands are flat on the wall. She turns to you, saliva and lipstick smeared on her chin, and asks, “W-which one?”

“You know exactly where.”

Her wide eyes tell you wordlessly that she got the point. She’s well aware of what room you want to use her body next. It’s not even supposed to be a question given the ways and moments you fucked her there.

“But daddy—if, if she hears us?”

You grin. “Then you’ll have to be pretty fucking quiet.”

The best thing about Minju besides her body is her passiveness. She may act up sometimes but she still needs your cock, and she’ll do anything to get it. So when she hangs her head to hide her smile, you spank her. It speeds her steps to the staircase. Continue doing so all the way.

It’s funny how she struggles to even lift a foot. Streams of your cum and hers slide down her legs, staining the carpet. You’ll have to wash that out, too. If you have the maid do it, she’s likely to put two and two together.

Even from the back, Minju’s body is beautiful. Her reddened ass twists from side to side and brings attention to her wide hips. The deep line on her spine is a path you trace your fingertips on. She quivers.

“Daddy,” she whines.

Hit her butt. Let it fill your palm. “Keep on walking.”

It’s borderline dehumanizing. You’re treating her with a ferociousness a woman like her should never have to go through. The eyes of the painted men and women on your walls lock on her. It’s like their hard stares are real. Minju bears the blows to her cheeks during her walk of humiliation up the stairs. Tiny yelps are caused by each one. It’s in her to be quiet now that Wonyoung is quite near, although not as close as she is to another heavy orgasm.

You slap her pussy, making her shake, then lead the juices mingling in it up to her asshole. She chews on the inside of her cheek to hide her moan. She reaches the last step with a huge sigh of relief.

The finality of the torture doesn’t last long. Fuck, it doesn’t even exist. You collect the semen and wetness from her legs, then drag it right back to her pussy.

You shove your fingers deep in her cave. There. Now your cum stays inside her. After that, it’ll drip all the way to her womb. She screams through pursed lips.

Push her hard against your bedroom door. Her stomach’s flatness goes up to the point that it’s the only thing engendered into the wood. Minju’s tiny gasp is already loud for you. Her beautiful side profile is mashed deep into the solid barrier between the two women.

Minju whimpers. Is she scared or heavily turned on? The thing with her is she likes both. So, yeah—she’s wet at the thought of being caught with you, being fucked within a distance of your wife wherein she could finally pin down your infidelity.

The little angel closes her eyes when your words hover near her prone ear. “Shut up,” you warn, “unless you want to lose your career. Or this dick.”

You slip your shaft between Minju’s shapely thighs. A friction is nurtured and grown into rough, pant-accompanied humping that leaves both of you breathless. Her pussy lips splay warmly on you and you’re allowed to rub yourself on her clit.

Minju tenses up. Her breaths are kept to a hummed volume yet their huskiness gets you to fuck her legs faster. The core between them is so warm and you haven’t even welcomed yourself in it again.

You carefully open the door. You don’t know what you’re expecting: Wonyoung crying with her face in her knees? An anger you never knew she could have? But what shows calms you. There’s your wife who remains asleep on the bed. From the soft snores, it’s easy to tell she’s deep in a dream.

“Wonyoung’s so pretty, daddy,” whispers Minju. You push her to the footboard where she holds on tight. “Do you think she’ll want to join if she wakes up? Or she’ll leave you for me?”

“Are you sure you want to act like that?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Depends on what you’re gonna do to me.”

Everything. You’re planning on doing everything to her.

Push her to the small pole of the wood. You’re forced to shove your fingers in her mouth again to keep her from yelling. The contact it makes to her clit is already overwhelming. But she’s all for overwhelming—she wants the kind of sex that leaves her beaten and bruised, the kind that leaves her sore and not knowing if she should tell you to keep going or halt.

You know what she’d choose.

Minju grinds on the pole. She’s dancing her hips again. Somehow, things of the past don’t leave her. Her idol days still leave an impact on her. The guy she made cheat on his wife a long time ago returned to her life to cheat again.

No, you’ve never been one for sentimentality, but things have somehow stayed the same. The slut that is Minju today was a slut all those years ago, too.

Grab her hips and force her to hump the ball of the pole. She soaks it instantly. Minju is corrupted to no hope of return. There’s your cum, leaking from her pussy and to the bedsheets. Her juices wet the pole and increase the creaking noises that would wake Wonyoung up if not for whatever dream she’s having.

“Oh, daddy! Oh, daaaddy—” she stammers, words bitten and broken in the major need to be quiet. “Just… fuck me. Please?”

“As long as you—”

“Be a good quiet girl, yes. I’ll do anything, daddy. Anything for this cock.”

She kneels down. Her tender mouth seals around your left testicle. You nearly shout right there and then. Minju’s running her lips on the underside of your swelling dick. She feels so good, and she is so good. She has all the tips and tricks to keep you hard memorized, if her brain wasn’t too full of other dirty thoughts.

The rasp in your throat materializes and makes her squirm her legs together. She puckers her lips then slips your cock through their joined entrance. Her almond eyes look wider tonight. Your tip pokes the back of her throat. She lets it rub there for now. You find pleasure in the texture that makes you leak. No, you can’t cum. Not yet.

Take a last look at Wonyoung before diving your rod to the depths of Minju’s throat.

It’s funny that the girl still has a gag reflex. Sucking dick is second nature to her. So is getting throatfucked. The walls of her oral hole flex to keep you in. She makes sharp inhalations only to take in the musky scent you thrust on her. In her?

Choking comes after. The orifice grows tighter which makes you fuck it harder. Saliva’s slick liquid state sheens your erection. Minju’s lost her breath a long time ago but she’s lost more than that now. The regular beat of her heart is gone. You can’t search her face for any color other than the palest white.

“You have to stop gagging, Minju,” you say. Don’t help her though; keep ruining that throat. “Maybe you really do wanna get caught. Makes you really wet, doesn’t it?”

She nods. Your hard tip bobs in her mouth as she does. Her pretty eyes, with their long lashes and big pupils that always seem to gleam with innocence, fill with watery tears.

“How cute.” You’re surprised that her hair is intact to her scalp after you pull it back. “But I make the rules around here. And I need you to seal that mouth shut and use it for good.”

There’s a possibility that, like Minju, you’re a dancer as well. But the upward grind of your body has no grace in it. It’s a rough, punked up beat that renders the girl humming and screaming. This roughness is nowhere close to natural.

You dip your cock in her just to see how far you could go, how far is needed to keep her quiet. Feed her more than she could suck. Every sensitive spot of yours is on fire thanks to Minju’s dutiful tongue and hard sucking. Your sack slaps her chin so hard it’s surprising it doesn’t hurt.

But, like you iterated, Minju isn’t normal. She takes the pain for pleasure and doesn’t give a damn if she gets wounded because of it.

The tears finally fall from her eyes.

The lines blur. Who is she—the woman asleep on your bed or the woman you fucked to be disloyal to her? Minju’s beautiful; so is Wonyoung. Jang Wonyoung is beautiful but there’s a category of beauty wherein the girl you’re destroying right now falls in. That’s the section for women who look pretty when they cry, who’ve accepted they’re as fucked up as whoever finds them and takes them in for who they are.

Your wife is pretty. You guess. But Minju is a beauty who lets you do everything to her, and that makes her a little bit more important.

Defile, defile, defile. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you get cum in her hair—(”I have a photoshoot, babe, you can’t!”). Semen sticks to Minju’s locks right now. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you be this rough with her—(“And what if they see? I shouldn’t look dirty to the fans.”) Minju is sitting there taking it like she’s just a cum dump. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you tear off her clothes because “they’re couture so it’s not really mine.” The coat Minju wore coming here lies discarded on the first floor.

Wonyoung doesn’t let anyone defile her. It’s her most fatal flaw. It’s the flaw that makes her husband see all the tiny imperfections she doesn’t allow the camera to see and chase highs in another woman’s throat.

So when Minju cries, gags, chokes—you realize it’s all so simple.

Slip out of her. The delusions clouding your head make you steal a look at the bed. Oh, now it’s unbelievable. Wonyoung is still asleep.

Not that it’s any inconvenience to you.

You prop Minju up to the vanity table. The counter carries the heave of her small chest. She can barely lift her head up. It makes her carry a look of humiliation that’s not at all true. She’s the most shameless woman you’ve ever met.

“Daddy… daddy…”

Twist her chin so she can look at herself in the mirror. Her body is amazing despite the handprints and bruises peppered on her stomach, butt, and neck. She flusters but your finger presses on her lips before she can look away.

“Not a single sound,” you remind her.

She nods. Good girl.

Minju’s a capable girl. Well, mostly. She offers those amazing dicksucking lips, shapely curves, and sometimes, her ass for ruining its own tightness. But nothing beats the feeling of her cunt. It’s all the right things: wet, tight, and perfectly quivering as they wrap around your shaft.

Minju closes her eyes. Bites down on her lip. She fights to be true to her promise of silence. Being a good girl and bad girl simultaneously is one of her versatile traits. The table creaks louder than expected. You would’ve shot another look at your spouse again, but Minju’s pretty face is in the way. Her cheeks are scarlet and her brows bead with sweat. She really is a beauty.

Your strokes are ceaseless. The thing that shocks you the least is the fact that her legs look as if they spread wider and wider. She splits while you split her apart. Place a hand on her tummy to muffle the sounds of skin colliding and wood creaking, and reach a better end: your cock is hitting her guts, making a bobbing print on her flat stomach.

“Look how deep I am, Minju.” You grin wickedly at her reflection. “You call me daddy anywhere, don’t you? How about I become a real one?”

Minju bounces herself on you. That’s a yes. A definite, enthusiastic yes.

Your penetration is rougher, gliding on places she can’t even imagine. If you cum right now, and this far in, you’ll live up to your name of “daddy.” Minju isn’t the only one who has to keep promises.

Corner a pulse point on her neck. Her core squeezes and although its resistance is tough, your pumps are more so.

“You’ll be my secret good girl. Daddy’s gonna put a fucking baby in your stomach, and no one has to know it’s mine. No one has to know you’re mine.”

Minju pouts, not out of sadness but of the orgasm that’s creeping from her feet to her center. It’s so close she could reach for it, taste it like a strong wind. You allow the tiny breaths and pants that leave her to be exemptions from your bedroom law.

“Wonyoung would be so happy for you.” You lick the sensitive spot behind her ear. “‘That’s so great, unnie! Come on, tell us who’s the lucky guy.’ And you’ll have to stop yourself from telling her that I did it. Can you do that?”

Minju emphasizes each repetition with a responding throb and push of her cunt. “Yes, yes, yes—”

Allow that, too. Burst inside Minju. Flood her insides with cum that shall infiltrate her fertile womb. Soon, that tummy would be round rather than flat. It’ll be your baby.

Minju got what she wanted in the end.

The next day, Wonyoung will wake up crying.

It’ll happen early in the morning, when the moon is still up and sheets still wrap your exhausted form. But she’s sobbing so loud that it’ll rouse you.

“What’s wrong?” you’ll say.

She’ll tell you about a dream she had. Wonyoung’s going to narrate a complex dream of Minju, her beloved former member and best friend, seducing you. It happened right in the house and in front of her. You dared to do it to her while she was sleeping and thought she didn’t know.

And you?

You’ll take her in your arms, kiss the inside of her trembling wrist, and say, “Oh, honey—it’s okay. I’m here, baby. I’m here. I’m here.”

1K notes · View notes

starlightingsss · 9 months

Text

sparks fly / 2

wildest dreams. 3

kinda hating how i wrote the relationship between haymitch and reader ☹️

u guys i js realized but when im typing on mobile my capitalization is inconsistent n some paragraphs have capitalize first lettters and some dont 😭 sorry

129. she had waved and blown kisses at 129 people so far, making eye contact and reaching her hand into theirs. everything had gone by so fast, she was holding onto haymitch as they got off the train, holding onto his arm.

the crowds had gone wild once they saw, haymitch himself slightly opposed to the public display but unable to shake the woman off his arm.

she loved it, loved having everyones eyes on her. loved the attention, loved the fame. it took forever to get to the stylist cars - much to haymitch and her district partner's annoyance.

haymitch had been careful to make sure not to show any favoritism to the girl, made sure he didn't get attached. he wanted her to survive, and he didn't want to break the poor girls spirit, but still - he didn't think she could live, tributes don't usually care for beauty and it wouldn't get her allies. she would have to prove she was smart, or strong, or anything that might be considered valuable in the arena.

as she and her district partner boarded separate cars, he went onto his own car - one for mentors.

in that car, she was with 4 people. one woman with gold braided into her hair, contrasting against her dark skin, with bright pink makeup and a bright blue dress - weird contrasts but still stunning on her and her skintone. this was her stylist, allium everstar. she had seen the woman on tv many times, as she was always assigned to district 12. the other 3 looked quite bizarre, a woman with fairy wings instead of ears, a man wearing a crop top and ankle length dress with dyed body hair and purple skin, and another woman whos hair was insanely long; split into 2 pigtails wrapping around her ankles, her skin was paper white and she seemed to be drawn in black and white, except for the gigantic golden necklace wrapped around her neck.

she heard them whispering among themselves, "this one is different ... unique! look at those eyes!", the man excitedly squealed to his team members.

she heard other fragments of conversation, little "she looks so different from them.. she could be a capitol girl!", "can't wait to see her all styled up..", "she would be gorgeous if she was pink!"

she looked out the window, still seeing people lined at the streets and waving at her, until they turned into a parking garage.

they all exited the car with peacekeepers joining them and leading them down the elevator.

she was getting sent even more deeper underground - into a room where there were bright white lights.

the team had led her into an odd bathroom, settling her into a bathtub. they stripped her of her clothing, leaving her bare in the cold air of the room.

the head stylist, allium took in her figure, looking at her up and down. she wrote something down onto a little notepad before leaving the room.

she was settled into the tub by the other 3, still unsure of their names.

the women scrubbed her body as the man prepared what seemed to be dye? was he gonna make her purple like him...

"oh dear god! rhuba! abernathy said not to mess with her hair!" exclaimed the woman, in all black.

"we're not cutting it, we'll just make her a little bit blonde .. i'm thinking a split dye, it'll be absolutely stunning on her!" the man named rhuba exclaimed, "don't always have to be so closeminded, volta.."

"we're gonna get in trouble!" the woman with fairy wings instead of ears snapped, "he specifically told us not to touch her hair!"

"i-its fine? i don't mind if you dye it like that .. just d-dont cut it!" y/n said, interrupting their little argument.

"oh dear .. your mentor is gonna kill us." sighed rhuba. "plus people probably wont like it like that, its not popular in the capital at all!"

"she said we could do it!" the man practically squealed, "how exciting! most tributes are so against us dying their hair!"

the two women just tsked, as they rinsed her of the soap and dried her off, they wrapped her in a towel and led her over to a metal bed.

"dear i'm just gonna wax you .. not sure i'm gonna need to though, bare as a baby.." said rhuba, "well! at least we have a tribute who actually takes care of herself this year, not sure why i'd expect less from someone who looks like her.."

"her nails seem ok too ... some color wouldn't hurt tho!" said the little elf looking woman, with the fairy wings instead of ears. she was buffing down her nails, just evening them out a little bit because otherwise she didn't need anything done.

"alright, so its just the hair!" the man said, as he moved himself to be able to access the womans hair.

"alright .. come over here.." he told her, leading her over to a chair. she had nothing but a robe on, and her body had already been examined and picked at her prep team. "it'll be done in just a second! only takes a few seconds to bleach your hair .. can't believe it used to take forever before!", he smiled as he coated half her head in the thick liquid, "...hey how about we add some tinsel extensions?"

"extensions?" she said, a little confused on why she would need the,.

"not just any extensions, hon! tinsel ones, they're like little reflective strips, it'll be totally gorgeous under the spotlight and we can have them match your makeup to it in the parade!" he laughed this, as he pulled out the extensions anyway. he rolled her chair over to the sink as he leaned her head back, washing out the bleach - leaving her with a head of half blonde and half black hair, it suited her but her hairstyle in general suited her beautifully.

he pulled out some weird hairdryer thing that fit over her whole head, and instantly dried out her hair.

once her hair was dried, he started adding the tinsel into her hair.

after about an hour, it was done. she had little holographic streaks coming out of her scalp and honestly, it was gorgeous.

"my makeup.." she asked, "who's gonna do my makeup?"

"oh dear that'll be allium! she's really good at it .. i'm sure she'll do you well!" he said, as he spun her to face him. looking her in the eyes, examining her hair and face .. "really gorgeous.."

"thank you.. and my clothes are decided by allium too right?" she said, a little bit worried.

"yep! she basically does everything except hair, waxing and nails, but she still had control over what we do with you .. now she might be a little mad about your hair.." he laughed again, as he pinched a lock of it. "but i'm sure it'll work well with however she dresses you!" , he gave her a reassuring smile.

she smiled back, as he sent her off to allium, peacekeepers greeting her as she walked out of the room and escorting her to the elevator. they went up 16 floors, up to the 2nd floor. the peacekeepers dragged her up to a door with her name on it, "y/n l/n" and then her stylist's name under it.

she walked into the room, it was like a dressing room - the vanity illuminating the clutter of makeup products on it, a rhinestone bodysuit on a mannequin. it was beautiful but it didn't cover much, the neckline of the suit high and up to the throat but it was sleeveless, and had a heart cut out over her chest area that would show cleavage and little red rhinestones around that heart making it seem like it was a bleeding heart. the sides were cut out, showing even more skin, the cut-outs were all lined with lace, and there was a little very sheer cape and "skirt" meant to cover her a little, the cape wouldve gone as far as her wrists, and the skirt didnt even reach 1/4 of her thigh, barely covering anything.

"oh you saw it .. was gonna make it a suprise for you! didn't expect you to be done so fast.." allium gushes, as she came out from a back room. "the bodysuit is one of a kind, and you're going to need to be stitched into it - it's held together by pins right now but its fine, the jewels are all little pieces of obsidian, the red stuff is rubies, theres also some absolutely gorgeous shoes to go with them! this isn't what i had planned at the beginning but then when i saw you at the reaping ... oh god you were stunning! wasn't sure how i would be ok with myself if i covered you with coal, we're still gonna go for that kind of makeup look though, smudgy eyeliner, freckles and a blood red lip! it'll be stunning on you .. your hair... jesus he butchered it! but no worries, it matches up.. we'll just use a lot of highlighter to make you look like a diamond!"

"you know .. back in the day some people actually used coal as liner i think! we could try that but im not sure how it'd look .. better not to risk it. now i need your help to pick what shoes and jewelry we'll have for you! nothing on the neck of course, its already covered by the suit but we need some bracelets, earrings and maybe an anklet?" she seemed insanely excited as she just kept talking, "we'll cover you in diamonds .. you've got to love that! come come!", she continues gushing as she gestured the girl over to a table where jewelry was displayed.

"i was just stunned by you ... these are all real, and all very expensive. i think this one and this one are the best," she pointed at 2 bracelets, but not bracelets, more like something to go on the upper area of your arm with diamonds spilling down to your wrist. more like a makeshift sleeve?

"those are really nice! could i have a ring? the heart shaped diamond one!" y/n asked, her voice a little squeaky from excitement - she loved all things beauty, makeup, skincare, clothing.

"of course! was thinking about giving you pearls but then i remember that 12 was a mining district, not sure how you'd get pearls there!" she smiled, happy that her tribute was sharing her admiration for clothing and all things beauty.

"now! shoes, you pick .. i think you'd stun in something that'll make you taller and goes up higher on the thigh..!" she pulled the girls arm, taking her to the shoe collection ..".. how about these! you better pick quick .. we only have 2 hours left and i'm not sure that'll be long enough for you to get your hair styled and your makeup done.."

"those are really nice!" she smiled, as she looked at the thigh high boots with pointed tips and red bottoms, covered in black velvet - luxurious.

"alright alright! now we'll have your makeup done, then ill style your hair a little, and then you can get dressed and meet up with your mentor and district partner for the tribute parade!" she said this, her voice getting louder as she clapped her hands and a squad of people came out. seating herself into the chair in front of the mirror, they wet her hair, and started her makeup.

it took around an hour for makeup, excessive makeup that would only look good from a distance. stage makeup, and it was gorgeous.

the smudged out eyeliner drawn out to give a "kohl" look to the girls eyes, the dark red lips lined with even darker lip liner and sharp corners - making her lips seem curled in a smile, her eyes standing out. her eyes were captivating, her entire look was sultry, dominating and seductive at the time - all things that she wasn't. and that would've worked out for her, in the interviews and everything. a woman forced to appear strong in her parade, a woman with a sharp eye and luscious lips, a sultry and seductive woman. a maneater, something that she wasn't and she knew how to work across it, "oh god my stylist just did that to me .. i swear i'm not actually like that!" and little smiles, kisses and looks that would melt anyone. the innocence that wasn't yet stained, something she would have to work to show off, she wasn't what she was dressed to be and it felt like a costume to her. but still, she wore the costume well and just for the night.

as her stylist re-entered the room, she practically squealed when she saw the girl.

"oh dear! this is exactly how i imagined everything .. you stun me!" she managed out, as she examined her face.

"thank you.. i feel really pretty right now!" y/n proclaimed, unsure what exactly she should say.

"honey! you are really pretty!" she laughed, "well now it's time to give you back to your mentor and stuff.."

"he's probably gonna have a stroke when he sees me like this." the girl jokes back, haymitch was probably going to look like hes having a stroke when he first sees her, his jaw dropping a little and eyes widening in shock as he would took in the figure - a figure she wasn't used to "rocking" like this.

as she was lost in her thoughts, allium was pulling her around and eventually into the elevator.

"im so excited!" she squealed, this was her first year after all - and she got to style one of the more gorgeous women she had ever seen..!

the girl still lost in her own thoughts just had a dreamy smile on her face, imagining what haymitch might think of her.

as she entered the room, there was exactly 26 minutes until the tribute parade.

"someone finally decided to show up.." her district partner grumbled this while scowling, haymitch was reclined back into the luxurious sofa with a drink in his hand. he had cleaned up quite a bit, he was wearing a suit. he looked amazing and the girl was definitely staring.

"jesus theyre gonna have a field day with you." he slurred a little, he was drunk. he sat up, looking at her with his full attention. he took in the bodysuit, it hugged her curves well, showing a lot of skin, his eyes lingered where they shouldn't have for a while as he looked her up and down - slightly shocked by what she was wearing.

she just laughed at his words, blushing a little because honestly, she wanted to be on the couch snuggled up into him. she wasn't sure why but she was always quite drawn to the man, he was attractive , rough and a little messy - but still, he had a nice face and a nice body (for an alcoholic at least).

she sat down next to him, still not very comfortable as her stylist followed and sat down next to her district partner, his stylist standing behind haymitch.

"alright so .. you two need to try and get along.. just for the parade." haymitch said, a little grumpy. "but if you don't want to do that because the idea of being nice to each other disgusts you that much, then make it as obvious as possible .. you" he said, pointing at basil, "you need to figure out how to market yourself, make yourself look good and make them like you. and you, ehh sweetheart, you seem to have this whole 'make everyone fall in love with me' thing under your belt."

this led to a smile from her, as she nodded. her district partner seemed less than pleased, asking "why do we even have to make them like us anyway? shes not even that likeable.."

"you have to make them like you so you can get sponsors, sponsors are the difference between life and death in the arena- if you're starving, then a sponsors gift of food might saved your life .. and knowing you, you'll probably be starving if you survive that long. and, she" he said this, gesturing to you, "she is likeable because she is pretty, people are going to look at her before hearing what she says and they're gonna decide if they wanna keep her alive or not, she is desireable in terms of looks and looks can get you everywhere when it comes to sponsors."

"they're gonna hate her after they figure out what her personalities like.." he scowled as he thought about her, the simple thought causing his troll-like features to contort in displeasure. haymitch let out a sigh, seeing how those 2 couldn't get along.

the woman seemed offended at his words, and as she was about to say something not very kind about her partner, the intercom interrupted her.

"Tributes, the parade is taking place in exactly 10 minutes! Make sure you head to your chariots now." a shrill voice said from the speakers.

The group of them got up as they headed over to the chariots, she wasn't present for when they all rewatched the reapinga so she hadn't seen any of the tributes before.

The girl and guy from one were both beautiful, with the boy reminding her a little of cupid. They were covered in gold, matching their shiny blonde hair.

The pair from two were a little more average looking, with a younger girl and older guy, the girl looked as if she had been crying - not something expected from a career district.

From 3, they were both tall and slim, nothing extraordinary.

The pair from 4, with a boy that was obviously a kid - he couldn't have been older than 14.

She kept watching the other tributes, and she noticed how the girl from one would occasionally reach for the boys hand, holding it and smiling at the comparison. How she would look up at him with loving eyes, a look of longing and regret that was only visible to the trained eye. She noticed how the boy from 2 would comfort the girl from 2, patting her head sometimes. She saw how the girl from 4 was always looking back at the girl from 5, she noticed how the boy from 4 would scan the crowds with anxiety in his eyes. How the girl from 5 was also always looking at the girl from 4, love in their eyes for each other. She noticed how horrible the pairing for the career districts were - a pair of lovers, 2 kids, a woman entangled in a queer love affair that was bigger than she was, and the only actual "career" looking tribute was the boy, but still - he would comfort the girl from two. if anything, all the careers from one and two would group together, and the boy from 4 but the boy from 4 would be the one they left out a little more, the disposable one. The girl from 4 would probably ally with the one from 5, running away from the cornucopia to live out their dying moments in the arms of their love.

The pair from 10 seemed strong, 10 was the livestock district - butchers. They knew their way with a knife, and they probably knew how to kill. They would make powerful allies, the only reason they lacked victors was because of their lack of sponsors, they were a district that was greatly overlooked in the games.

She looked at the hands of each tribute, paying particular attention to those of 4 and 8, the districts where knots were useful, 4 using fishing knots and 8 being the one of textiles and fabrics. The pair from 8 almost definitely knew their way when it came to knitting / tying / sewing, the boy was 4 had callused hands - probably from fishing. She knew that those 4 people were to be looked out for as they would know how to manage and craft traps. The girl from 4 wouldn't be a problem unless she found her lover, she would be easy to pick off during her love crazed and very desperate search for her girlfriend. And the girl from 5, would be even easier once the girl from 4 was gone..

She was quickly snapped out of her thoughts when Haymitch snapped his fingers in her face, "sweetheart, parades gonna start in a minute or so."

"sorry , was js thinking about something" she apologized, not trying to upset the man. she climbed into the chariot, as she waved a goodbye to the group.

She stood in the chariot, Haymitch's words stuck to her, or not his words but more his tone. He always seemed a little irritated with her, unless she was serving him liquor, he didn't really acknowledge her other than that. He didn't go over plans or advice with her, he just asked her to refill his drinks. She felt like the was dumbing her down, but he wasn't like this before the games. When she first met him, he was sweet. He was drunk but he saved her, and was still kind with her. She didn't understand the reason for his overall dismissal of her, always talking to basil about actual stuff instead of her.

The chariots started as Snow finished his speech, she wasn't sure she had it in her to smile and wave like she did before but she did anyway. The capital seemed to love her, screaming her name. She was showered with roses as they threw them over the stands, she caught one and smelled it, lifting it into the air and blowing a kiss in the direction it came from, even louder cheering emerged from the stands. She kept a smile on her face for most of the parade, but honestly - she was glad it was over.

She met back up with her district partner, mentor, and their escort.

"So! How did we do?" she said, as she smiled, excited.

"Crowd went absolutely insane when you did what you did with the rose! You're a natural in the spotlight!" her escort gushes, a smile on her face as she admired the girl. "Oh and your outfit! It was stunning ... I'm not sure how anyone could keep their hands off you!"

The tribute smiled at her, still a little upset with the idea of the games.

Once they got back to the building where they were going to spend the night, her prep team made quick work of her outfit - giving her her old clothes back and leaving her to remove her makeup by herself.

She went up the elevator, following the instructions of Allium, to go up to the 14th floor because that's where she was staying.

She walked in and saw Haymitch and her district partner, both by the coffee table and obviously discussing plans about the games.

They both looked up at her when she walked in.

"What are you guys doing?" She said, walking closer to them, her voice pleasant.

"Just discussing strategies for the games," Haymitch said, "..could join us if you'd like."

"She'd probably prefer to go play with her makeup or try on dresses.." sneered Basil, he knew she took an interest to those things and he mocked her for it. Haymitch honestly wasn't much better about it though, just sighing and ignoring Basil's words as he continues to discuss the plans.

She was a little hurt, but just said "maybe later, havw to go take a shower right now.", as she put on a smile and walked away to her room.

She didn't have much trouble finding her room, as they were all labeled. It was a beautiful room, decked out in pink and gold, unsure if they made special arrangements just for her, she walked into the bathroom.

As she explored, she found a cleansing balm and a whipped cleanser, which she used to remove her makeup. After that, she found a hair mask, and some scissors. So naturally, she decided to cut her hair. She was unsure if it was because of her newly dyed hair color or because she was unhappy with how the dya went, but it didn't matter because she picked up the scissors and snipped off a chunk. As she realized what she had doen, and how it was a very big and noticeable chunk, she gave up and kept cutting. Eventually she ended up with a medium length haircut, that cut off at her breasts, opposing to where he hair used to be - at her hips, that admittedly did fit her newly dyed hair pretty well, as did it frame her face. She brushed out any of the hair she cut out and applied the hair mask, putting on a shower cap and laying on her bed. She found what she thought was a tv remote and turned on the tv, she didn't find many shows or movies - the media allowed in Panem was mostly government broadcasts and talk shows. She ended up not watching tv and instead decided to paint her nails and take a quick nap.

She slept peacefully for almost 30 minutes, as her hair mask marinated. Once she realized it had been 30 minutes, she removed the shower cap and slipped into the shower. Scrubbing at her body as she relinquished all the bad thoughts and feelings of the day, erasing the dirt and sweat that stained her pretty body. She decided to take her time, she would exfoliate and shave and everything, made sure to be perfect by the end of it. As she rinsed off her soapy body, she reached for the body scrub, applying a lather of the sandy feeling liquid to her legs. She scrubbed for a little, exfoliating her legs as she picked up the razor, coating her legs in shaving foam, she glided the razor down, removing any hair that might've grown since the last time she did this. She repeated this process on her whole body, as she rinsed herself off and felt truly clean.

She exited the shower, engulfing herself into a soft robe, she felt truly at peace with herself at the moment. She looked through the contents of the skincare drawer in the room, finding sufficient products. She grabbed a piece of ice from the mini fridge in her room, rubbing it over her face, once she finished with that, she decided on a skin tightening toner and some rose water, which she applied to her face and neck. Afterwards, she layered a moisturizer over it, before finally adding some snail mucin to lock in moisture - a weird ingredient but common capitol beauty trend.

She patted her face as she applied a hydrating eyecream, before grabbing a hairdryer and drying her hair. Once she was sufficiently happy with how damp it was, she applied some hair oil, then grabbed a gua shua and ran it along her face. Once she finished with that, she picked up the hair dryer once again, this time fully drying out her hair. She grabbed a lash serum, applying some onto her eyelashes, and picking up a pair of tweezers, as she plucked her eyebrows into the perfect shape. The woman was high maintenance, she wasn't going to lie, but she loved it. Her little beauty rituals made her happy, made her beautiful.

As her hair was dried and she was happy with how she looked, she went into the closet they provided for her, and she picked out a pair of pajamas.

She had grabbed a satin babydoll top, lined with lace, and a pair of lacy underpants, that she put satin shorts of the same color over.

She ran her hands through her hair, adding a little bit of volume before exiting her own room, to join Haymitch and her district partner at the table.

They were still at the table but this time, Basil seemed to be yelling at Haymitch for something, with Haymitch being a little too drunk to care.

She made her way closer to them before hearing what Basil was so upset about, "you're literally a drunk why would i take advice from you" and other things, she didn't really plan on interfering except for maybe glaring at Basil a little more often, thst was until he grabbed Haymitch's drink and splashed it into his face.

The woman slammed a quick punch into Basil's face, letting out a "what the hell are you doing?"

"are you really gonna defend him, huh? hes a drunk! hes literally sending kids into an arena ever year judt for them to die!" basil said, delirious and mad.

"everyone has their problems and everyone has their way to cope for it. don't blame him for something out of his control." she hissed, as she bent over Haymitch, to help him wipe some of the alcohol off of him.

"he can control it but he just keeps ln fucking drinking - i don't even know how you can try to defend him ! he's gonna be the reason we die soon!" basil snapped, still upset.

"alcohol is not addictive," she said, wiping haymitch's jaw, "but alcohol is numbing, alcohol makes people forget. alcohol lets people escape the pain of their modern lives, it takes a while for it to develop into an addiction but getting addicted to alcohol is not something someone does for fun, alcoholics are people who have something to forget, something to hide from, something that is hurting them just to remember. alcohol is an easy way out that still lets them live, still lets them function. i promise you , just because he's an alcoholic doesnt mean he doesnt care, and it doesnt mean he doesnt fucking try." the tone of her voice was sharp, unpleasant and spearing at the moment, something abnormal for her, "if he didn't care and he didn't want to try, if he didn't have some hope for us, us as in the tributes, he would be fucking dead. sending kids into a death arena is something no one could enjoy, but if he didn't have a little bit of hope - that one of us could win, he wouldnt be here today. he was a kid too when he went into his arena, he survived and it scarred him, what he did scarred him and snows punishments scarred him. he's not a bad man for wanting to escape the horrors of his past, and hes not a bad man for being drunk while hes supposed to be helping us because at least hes still here and at least hes still trying. so you need to shut the fuck up and realize that everyone has their own problems and to stop bitching at every minor inconvenience." her tone indicated the end of a conversation, as basil walked over to his room, unable to argue with the woman, the sympathetic woman who always seemed to look into a situation more than she had to.

she leaned back down to haymitch who was watching her with sharp eyes now, questioning eyes, her little outburst wasn't something he expected. the little observations she made, the little assumptions, and how she had seen through his facade things that shocked him. he realized she looked at him with wide eyes and sympathy because she figured he was trying, still trying his best after the dozens of kids he watched die.

and at that moment he knew, he knew what she was. a people watcher, a sympathizer, a woman who knew how to wear everyone else's shoes, a woman who took nothing to heart because she trusted that whoever was delivering it had something going on for them, someone who could see through everything and still never tried to hurt them with the information she had gathered as she observed them.

she rested into his arms and caressed his jawline, her own attempt to comfort the man. she was sweet and beautiful, insanely likeable, and insanely marketable.

#haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch is my man #my man my man my man #my mannn #i love him #my man is going through it #my man is so fine #haymitch x reader #thg haymitch #haymitch #yummers #i need him

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bluegekk0 · 9 months

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Any tips on how to draw PK's head and horns? I've not been able to figure out a good, consistent way of doing it myself yet.

well, for starters, i significantly simplified their shape. if you compare fpk to canon pk, his design is much rounder, and his horns are considerably shorter. it's mostly a stylistic choice (though the roundness of the horns can be explained in the au), but it makes them much easier to draw + they help to give him a more streamlined look, which fits fpk's lizard aesthetic, although i think it would work with different interpretations as well

this is generally how i approach his headshape. very round and salamander like, with a subtle snout, especially visible from the side. of course, this can vary as i'm very inconsistent when i draw, but this is more or less what i try to go for

his head is very round from the top, and the neck meets the lower jaw at an angle, which allows him to lay his head flat on the ground and gives it a more elongated appearance than what you'd see in a more "human" like neck position

like i said, the horns are probably the biggest deviation from his canon appearance. if you've been following me for a while, you'll notice that i gradually made them shorter and rounder with time, and this is because, well, it's significantly less headache inducing to work with. plus i really like the spade like shape, i think it flows very nicely. when i draw the crown, i start with a dome like shape with lines that are angled towards a singular point, and then just add details + more pronounced tips. if you want a more canon-like look, you can always make them more "wavy" even if you decide to shorten them

different perspectives is something i still struggle with, but i think the design choices i went with make it a little easier. the dome-like shape for the crown becomes a kind of cylinder, and the longer and flatter head also helps with figuring out how he'd look from the bottom (once again, toothless from how to train your dragon comes to the rescue)

the thing that i still haven't figured out is the side horns. i make sure they're visible no matter the angle, but what would they actually look like? i'm afraid this is one of the things that will remain in the "cartoon logic" territory, but i've seen various different interpretations similar to these, so perhaps you'll figure something out. all i know is that, if there's a ridge or a line of spikes on his head, they end somewhere on the lower jaw (they don't go around his entire head). i guess the closest to what i do when i paint would be the smooth ridge, and if i had to choose one option, it would probably be this one. but in most of my art i simply just pretend it's not there haha

i hope this is somewhat helpful. i don't know how to do tutorials and i suck at explaining, but perhaps you'll find some inspiration in these. i tried to sketch out what a more "human like" appearance could look like, with a shorter and flatter face, but it just looks goofy no matter what. sorry haha

#ask stuff #ask art #gekko.art #art guide

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roleplayerconfessions · 2 years

Photo

🌴 I recently took over a partner search forum for advanced literate roleplayers, because the old mods were inactive for a very long time and literally nothing was being moderated. Naturally, before I arrived, there were a lot of people who were taking advantage of the lack of moderation, and posting ads that were FULL of typos and terrible grammar conventions, and posts that didn't even qualify as semi-literate.

Once everything was set up, I started removing ads that were illiterate, because naturally, this was a forum for advanced literate roleplayers. Lots of advanced literate roleplayers were happy about this, because they previously had trouble finding partners among all the illiterate posts (and they couldn't go anywhere else, because no other forums curated their posts for advanced literate roleplayers).

And of course, the semi-literate roleplayers screamed bloody murder about this. One notable message was: "what the hell mind telling me why youre suddenly deleting my ads ? My ad wa always allowed before, why are you being dicks suddenly".

And another message: "The post was removed 2 minutes after it's post? What's worng with it? I can't spot any mistake in the first lines sorry". Their entire post was filled with spaces before punctuation, misspelled words, uncapitalized "i"s and uncapitalized words at the beginning of sentences (not a stylistic choice, it was inconsistent), and sentences that sounded like broken English. (Even if they were ESL, the end result still wasn't advanced literate by a long, long stretch.) When I told them the post was not in line with how the forum defined "advanced literate", and when I even spent five minutes circling all the errors to help them out, they came back all pissy and saying the errors were not worth removing the post for (I circled over twenty things), and they started arguing with me and saying I was ruining the forum.

Come on. First off, what's the name of this forum? And second, do you not see the big, "hi, I'm the new moderator, I am taking over for the inactive mods" announcement at the very top, which is impossible to miss? Or the new rules page at the very top, which is also impossible to miss? And, each of your posts have gotten an automatic reply mentioning how you should read the new rules, and how the forum is being run true to its name now. You were given more than enough information, and more than enough indication your posts wouldn't be allowed. If someone had been around to moderate last year, they would have taken them down too. Don't take out your butthurt entitlement on me, you clearly aren't even close to how the forum defines AL. You were just taking advantage of the forum's lack of moderation before when there was literally nobody around to sift through posts. You have OODLES of other forums to find partners, and I can see you're a user on them already. All you do is copy and paste your ads on every waking forum you can find, whether you actually fit the roleplaying type or not, and sorry, but that is not gonna work here.

...Sheeeeesh.

I do my best to be sensitive and polite about this crap. I understand that writing is a deeply personal thing, and a lot of people feel offended when their writing is declined on a forum, and I know how to be tactful there. If I didn't care, I would just ban them right away, and not give them any way to contact the moderators, certainly not proofread their ads like I'm a teacher when they ask me for specifics. So what the frick? Maybe this is why the old moderators left. I almost don't blame them. Some people are spoiled, entitled brats.

#Submission #Muns #Writing Styles #Rules Pages #Communication #Bullying #Manipulation #Coarse Language

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saladejin · 4 years

Text

Call An Uber? | 10

BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader | Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut

Summary: Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right?

What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.5k

< masterpost >

»»————- <<prev | next >> ————-««

Red, Red, Brownish? Brown, I guess.

Well, things had definitely taken a turn.

Brown, even darker brown.

Was my brain even working? It had been days, but I still didn’t even know the answer to that question. Ever since I had returned to my apartment that night, things had been hard to grasp. The cogs were in tiny pieces, littering the floor inside my head.

Brown, brown.

My finger stopped and tapped the can in front of my eyes, almost as if trying to calibrate my scattered thoughts and feelings at the same time.

Black.

Okay, so now my life had truly reached a peak of existence. People very rarely lived their dreams, but here I was. A very much living and breathing instance of such luck.

I’d expressed my shaken gratitude to Bang PD right before he had to go. He had many important things to see to back at his company, and I had no intentions of keeping him waiting in the carpark just because I couldn’t flounder any more with my words. I really hoped he would forgive me for my moments of delay...in the mind, at least.

“You’re a blessing.”

Am I a blessing? I think I’m just the blessed one here.

The plastic bag was gently taken from my fingers and I looked up to see the slightly concerned gaze of the stylist raking over me. “Are you okay, (Y/n)-ah?”

I smiled and shook my head in pure disbelief. “I’m sure I’m fine. Sorry if I seem a bit dazed, it’s not something to be worried about.”

The stylist tilted her head fondly, and I rolled my eyes when she jerked her hand forward to pinch my right cheek. “You’re so cute, please say you’ll stay with us for a bit longer?”

I frowned and looked down pointedly at my wristwatch, seeing that my small break was almost due to finish up. The hopeful tinge alighting the taller woman’s eyes flickered out as I sighed and shook my head.

“Sorry, I have work to do. And this room is slowly killing me, I swear,” I whined to try and lighten the mood. I didn’t want the workers to feel sad just because I had to leave and do my actual job. The fact that most of my break had been spent driving down to the shop was sad enough on its own.

“You know we’re trying to get better ventilation,” another woman piped up from where she was organising makeup supplies, and I smiled when every person in the room let out an amused groan simultaneously.

“Our lungs are a small price to pay,” a male stylist snorted with disdain.

I left the room to joke amongst themselves, having already spending way too much of my time in there as it was. The basement was becoming like a second workplace, but it was only because I finished my jobs as an interpreter quite swiftly as the day went on. Practical things like interviews were happening rarely at this point in time, but I knew once the boys had their comeback, things would change greatly.

I passed the brightened practice room as usual and smiled to see some of the boys already delving right into their daily routines. This time, every single one of them could be seen warming up to the sound of the choreographer’s snappy instructions. I felt proud and awed at the sight of their determination to practice so hard, getting every minuscule move down to the point of perfection.

“Hello.”

I grunted with surprise as my attention was torn away from the narrow door window. I hadn’t even realised I’d stopped to observe through the glass, but now a deep and somnolent voice had broken me from the trance.

“Yoongi, damn you’re quiet.” I laughed airily, resisting the urge to clasp at my chest to calm the rapidly beating heart contained within. I glanced at the man in front of me, noting his attire to be fairly casual but sporty at the same time. His faded hair was partially hidden under a black cap. I remembered him mentioning it was due for a cut sometime soon.

“Sorry, but you’re just too easy to scare. You remind me of Hoseok-ah.” He smiled a tiny smile and leaned forwards to glance into the practice room. I watched as his facial expression grimaced slightly.

“You don’t want to head in yet?” I took a few steps, so I was out of the door window's view, and leaned against the adjacent wall. I didn’t want to accuse him of anything sly or sluggish, but it was quite clear that he was reluctant.

“It’s not that,” he began, and I was surprised when he moved to stand in front of me slowly. It seemed he also didn’t want to be accidentally seen by the other members practising inside the room. “I’m just being lazy, and I already practised so much yesterday that I’m worn out already by looking at them.”

I knew that wasn’t entirely true, as the rapper had a lot of stamina when it came to spending long hours at a time performing. Just as they all did, in fact.

“Poor you, why don’t you take a few minutes to chat with me then?” I suggested jokingly, and saw him raise an eyebrow before grinning with amusement. That gummy smile could literally brighten any of my gloomy days.

“If you insist.” He nodded thoughtfully, and I held back a betrayed gasp at how quickly he’d turned the situation around to be in his favour. All that escaped was an abrupt noise of protest, and he laughed again at my widened eyes.

“I seriously did want to talk with you though.”

He looked down, but his voice remained of the same calm levelled tone. He messed around with the drink bottle in his hands while I nodded and rested my back against the wall more comfortably.

“It’s about the other night. I actual...I actually wanted to thank you.”

My mind slowed to process his words. He had lifted his gaze to meet mine intently, and I was so surprised to see how much their inky depths had softened from their initial sharpness. I couldn’t help but suddenly notice how much livelier he looked, compared to when I had taken him on a car ride that one time.

“The concert night? I think I have more to thank all of you for.” I smiled at the thought, memories of the experience flooding right back through me.

“While that is true, I wanted to thank you for what you did for Jimin,” he continued on a serious note, his hands fiddling even more with the plastic bottle. I knew it was hard for him to open up to others so quickly into a conversation, let alone admit the vulnerabilities he and his bandmates shared. I only wished I could communicate how grateful I was for the sentiment.

“When he gets like that, I must admit that it confuses me a lot. We all know he works the hardest to be the best he can, and even then he has this belief that it’s never enough. I don’t think I can ever understand where he gets the negativity from, but in his mind he views the smallest mistake as something bigger.”

I nodded in agreement, but felt sickeningly bad at the same time. I didn’t want to talk too deeply about Jimin and his insecurities when he wasn’t there to hear my thoughts. I wasn’t sure why, but it just felt rude for me to launch into something I had so much to say on.

“I just wanted to thank you for the comfort. I mean, we all have our doubts especially when it comes to performing, but I’m glad you were there for him when we couldn’t see it,” Yoongi finished bluntly, and I knew he had a similar feeling of guilt when it came to talking about the younger member. It truly moved me to hear his outward display of care and appreciation.

“I’m… so happy you’re saying this, I’d love nothing more than to be honest with all of you and let you guys know just how talented and inspirational you are. The doubts will probably never go away, but I believe they can be changed with hard work and confirmation. That – That's why I’ll try and provide that in any way that I can.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened the smallest fraction before they returned to normal, and I didn’t miss the sharp exhalation that fell from his lips as he cast his gaze downwards.

“Wow, you…”

He stopped and I watched as his face broke out into a shy smile before he sniffed and continued to smile while looking straight at me instead. I hoped I hadn’t overwhelmed him too much.

“That’s all we can ask for, thank you. I literally don’t know what else to say.”

“It’s fine, I don’t expect anything more in return,” I chuckled to break any deep and emotional tension resting on our shoulders.

“Just keep making music. We love it as much as you do, I hope you know that.”

Yoongi nodded, a proud smirk working its way gently onto his face.

“Well that goes without saying, I don’t think I could ever stop.”

I glanced my head to the side, watching to see if anyone was approaching before pouting.

“If you did, I think I would have to file a complaint. You’d have more than a few hundred girls suing you then.”

He raised both brows and huffed quietly. “Would I now? My money is disappearing before my eyes.”

My giggle was cut short as the door to the room opened and the bright light filtered out into the hallway where we were talking. A curious Namjoon appeared and held the door open as he trailed his eyes from me to Yoongi, then back to me.

“Hey (Y/n).” He dipped his head formally, then turned a questioning glance to his older bandmate.

“How long have you been out here, hyung?”

Yoongi looked around aloofly and shrugged, turning on his heel to start making his way through the door. Namjoon looked taken aback, and as a result I covered my mouth with one hand to stifle a snort of amusement.

“Sorry, it was my fault for making him chat,” I explained while calming down, waving my hand in an apologetic manner. Yoongi paused with pursed lips.

“Well, I talked, so it was both our fault.”

Namjoon also shrugged and looked behind his shoulder quickly.

“Well, you know how he gets when you’re too late,” the leader warned with a hushed tone so nobody inside would hear him. Yoongi nodded in a brooding thought before turning back to where I was still standing pressed against the wall.

“See you (Y/n).”

I waved my goodbye and returned Namjoon’s small nod of acknowledgement before the door was slowly brought to a close once more. The air of the hallway felt colder now that I was left alone in it, and I shivered before rushing over to the elevator doors to make my escape.

The day was now drawing closer to nightfall. I blinked my eyes tiredly at the computer screen in front of me, barely having had any rest for the past couple of nights just because I was positively brimming with excitement over the thought of touring. I really wanted to bring it up with the boys to hear their thoughts, but the earlier conversation with Yoongi hadn't been the right time or place really. I knew I wouldn't be able to keep my mouth shut forever, so it was either they found out some other way or watched as I inched my way into their day to day schedules; ready to let the cat out of the bag.

I finished up a few translating tasks that were sent via email and breathed a deep sigh at the sight of sent work. It was somewhat a struggle to remember the last time I’d experienced such an intense sense of release. At least now I could go home and treat myself to some wine and snacks whenever I pleased.

“(Y/n), I just got a message from downstairs,” one of the other office workers said with a slightly confused expression painting his features. “Said they had a surprise?”

I hummed suspiciously before standing up straight and letting the wheeling chair roll away behind me. My hair, which had fallen out from being tied up all day, now flowed over my shoulders in an uncontrollable manner. I let my eyes gain a dramatic glint.

“If I don’t come back, call the police.”

The man laughed before shaking his head, and I smiled before packing up my desk and preparing to head to the elevator yet again. How many trips had I done just today?

I seriously need to pick a place to work and stay there.

The ride down seemed to take milliseconds, as I was so full of anticipation that time lost all presence. What were the stylists meaning by surprise? This could literally be anything, so I was a little scared to be completely honest.

I nervously shifted from foot to foot once halted outside the large door, raising one tentative hand to rap lightly on its surface.

To say I was unprepared would be an understatement and a half.

The door drifted ajar with an audible creak and I jumped when Seokjin’s face appeared from around the edge. He looked worn out from the day of practising, but the tall singer instantly broke into a grin when he saw me loitering outside the entryway.

“Hey (Y/n)!”

Then his face fell as he threw a quick glance into the room behind him.

“Um, what brings you here?”

Things were weird, I could tell by the way he was purposefully holding the door to block off my curiously wandering eyes.

“Oh, (Y/n)-ah! Come in, come in!” The excitable voice of my stylist unni broke through the heavily guarded atmosphere, and I watched as Seokjin furrowed his brows in semi-protest. It seemed like he truly didn’t want me to see what was happening behind the door, but it was obvious he was going to lose the battle one way or another.

“Hyung let her in!”

Taehyung’s voice now perked up from somewhere within the room, and I couldn’t let the flames of my curiosity dwindle anymore. I giggled with triumph as Seokjin’s shoulders sagged in defeat. He swung the door open to let me pass following another two beats of hesitation. I wondered why he was so defensive, but soon learned when my eyes drank in the scene.

The boys were seated in front of the mirrors lining the makeup room, but some were walking around while either looking at their phones or chatting to stylists. Each one looked up when I entered the strongly scented space.

I tried to avoid crinkling my noise at the sharp aroma of dye, but the notion fell to the back of my mind when I fully registered the sight before me.

Because now, every single one had their hair coloured black.

tagged: @joyful-jimin, @l4life, @gee-nee, @m0chilattae, @rossemayme, @doilooklikeinoe, @jeon-joker, @topthis808, @justyouraveragerando,@xcastielbabyangelface

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alottamoney · 3 years

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This is very frustrating because you can't be messaged.Nevertheless I would like to share something very serious with you. These are strictly speculation. Firstly I would like to clear my position with Taekook.Long story short: I believe them.

Quite recently I stumbled upon a theory about Taekook's coming out process that seemed very logical to me.The summary of the theory is, the art that BTS has been releasing from the beginning,or from 2015-16 to be exact, have been quite evidently inspired by Taekook's journey from discovering themselves, to then losing themselves, to then finally be able to find their happiness and true-self with each other.From Stigma, to DNA,to FAKE LOVE.A lot of BTS songs are talking about a hurtful love filled with sadness.Also, the kind of songs Taekook listens to and covered from the beginning traces that journey from sadness to happiness.From the official songs,Singularity, The truth untold,Heartbeat,House of Cards,Whalien,Make it Right to name a few.It's justified to assume that BANGPD supports them and love them.But if it is so then why the separation from time to time?According to this theory it is to prepare the ARMY very slowly to getting used to Vkook.We have seen since 2017 taekook is used to promote the Album the most,to hype it up,and once the Album's released,it's the watchful eyes again.BangPd was very supportive of Jkwon,a kpop idol who likes drag.But he also told him that you cannot throw a stone into a still lake and expect everyone to be fine with it.It will take a long time to get the water to settle down.What bangpd is doing with Taekook is he is engineering a very long process of getting people used to the message of acceptance through messaging of their album,love myself,be yourself.He is creating a generation that is used to these ideas so that when that stone lands,there will be no ripple.

Now nitpicking time.Tae and BangPD share a mutual dislike for each other.It's not a secret.Because Tae made it obviously clear on many occasions. Everyone in the kpop world knows it.Starting from Taekook's relationship, V was being portrayed as a non-essential member.Idk if it was a coincidence,but taekook is the king of coincidence and the timing somehow matches.It got to the point where he had only 1/2 lines in a song. If you know Tae's journey, you would know and I'm not gonna elaborate the extent to which it was bad.I also get the feeling he doesn't like Kookie's personality(he doesn't respect him) because he has a psychological need for Tae built in him.The golden Child of BTS.If BangPD is supporting Taekook and engineering their smooth coming out,and taekook are in on it,then why do they seem displeased when separation happens?It has happened so many times that there is no other option to consider than them being unhappy with the situation.

My pessimism will take over from this point.It's about money in the end.I personally believe BangPD supports lgbt.Before elaborating on my point I want to present someone else's viewpoint who I had a discussion with.They are even more pessimistic than me.A bit hilarious too.According to them if BangPD really supported Lgbt he would not try to corner Tae like that.It's an unwritten code among lgbt that you hold each other's relationship up despite your personal things.According to them BangPD used all these messages for marketing purposes and used Taekook and the members as a gimmick for it.That's why he was okay with Jikook but not taekook.Tae did not like jikook happening on stage to the extent it was happening but it was given a free pass in the name of it being just a job.According to this person,an lgbt supporting person would never do something like that to a lgbt relationship.Scary stuff.

Now my elaboration : BangPD is not necessarily protecting Taekook or BTS,he is protecting his investment. He wants to engineer a smooth path for their coming out but only under his term?I know before military it's unthinkable and even after that, my opinion is Taekook are not the declaring in a statement type couple.They prove by actions,not by words.That's why I am a bit confused as to what pd's thoughts are regarding Taekook future.All I know is that Tae does not like it when someone instructs him how to behave in his own relationship.He's been throwing middle fingers left and right to whoever can see.If they are not on the same page with Pd's plan for them,then....what?On a sidenote: I am sure JJK and KTH1 mixtapes are getting delayed due to profit sharing issues.You just know they are going to break every record out there.V said in 2019 that his mixtapes were ready for release that year,and he wanted to see how ARMY react to it and then he uttered something very interesting"It's going to be delayed anyway"..then he laughed in the brattiest way possible at the staffs while spoiling 😂 BH couldn't get that sweet sweet money from "Sweet Night".Going back to my previous point,it really seems like everything is connected to money.Does BANGPD want a situation where if Taekook have to come out,whether by accident or something else,he can be there to take advantage of the situation?Like saying he supported them all along,and the money will come in as support for them pours in.Idk how that will a viable situation.For one, Tae will consider eating poison before agreeing to letting PD use his personal relationship for circus,and it's fair to assume BangPD knows it.Then what about the possibility that PD really is like a strict parent,who wants the best for his children even though his methods are torture.Did he think taekook not being a couple was in their best interest?Taekook's interest/BTS' interest?Like I said, I personally believe pd supports lgbt.He doesn't like Tae's personality,his rebellious streak.I could be wrong but would his personal dislike move him to create tough situation for taekook even though he supports lgbt.It seems unlikely because wouldn't it create unhealthy environment within the group,pd must have known this.Or did he think it's just a teenage romance,one push and it will break easily.All of these possibilities because all I have gotten that TK are not happy when their relationship is micromanaged.

Now there's Lisa in JK's Vlive correcting his steps in Euphoria.Guess we are all delulu at this point.I really think that was Lisa though.Don't ask.I'm sorry for this long ask.Please share with me what you think.

Hi anon, I'm happy that you shared your views on Taekook. My opinion on this topic might be disappointing but I'll share anyway.

First, I don't have a coming out theory because I don't think any BTS member would willingly reveal any sort of romantic relationship because of the fan frenzy around them.

I don't analyze MVs, lyrics, and such because these things involve a lot of input from a lot of people: producers, composers, lyricists, designers, stylists, choreographers, etc. It's much more than just BTS sharing personal stories and trying to find clues about the members' private lives from them is a pointless venture according to me. The covers and song recommendations made by Tae and Jungkook in the earlier years, like you pointed out, have more weightage in this regard.

About Bang and his relationship with Tae and Jungkook: I think there is a large gap between fandom perception and what has actually been shown. While I don’t think Tae is Bang’s bias, I also don’t think he dislikes him or is out to sabotage him. It is even possible that him “favoring” Jungkook does not extend beyond his potential marketability. He seems indifferent for the most part to them as individuals. Assuming Tae and Jungkook are in a relationship, I agree that maybe Bang did not take it seriously until he had to. He could also have done a lot more damage than just separate them on screen or cut them out of content so I don’t think he micromanages them outside work (or may he tried and Tae and Jungkook are just that inseparable🤷🏻‍♀️). He might even consider it beneficial, not in a direct financial manner but in that it makes them easier to control and monitor- two less NDAs to worry about. It doesn’t help that Tae and Jungkook are also very erratic in a way that can’t be attributed to company micromanagement. That could explain some inconsistencies, they’re also figuring it out (and they’re a bit dramatic about it in my opinion).

Jokwon hasn't said anything about his sexuality explicitly, I don't know if this counts as an example of Bang's support of the LGBTQ community but he seems open-minded enough and he hasn't said or done anything homophobic. Tae and Jungkook though are part of his biggest cash cow so, while he might not be homophobic it's not a stretch to assume he has different standards for them vs Jokwon who isn't signed to his label. About using the members and Jikook as a gimmick, I think that is simultaneously complicated but also not that deep and it’s probably a separate discussion; in short, I don’t think Bang is thinking farther than taking advantage of and promoting a popular (easier?) ship but it seems to have affected the relationship of the members involved (Disclaimer: I don’t think that all permutations and combinations of relationships between the members have a possibility of being “real”. I don’t think it’s an everyone loves everyone situation.)

Will Bang or the company try to take the credit if Taekook are outed by accident? The way they act, I feel like they are pretty confident that no such thing will happen. In the very minute chance that it does, I think they'll wash their hands of Taekook and let them fend for themselves. I don’t think they’ve done the groundwork to benefit from such a situation nor do I think they are making it easy for Taekook. The narratives put forth in In The Soop and other content do the opposite of cushioning the blow. There’s no overall consistency and it’s really hard to predict how such things will play out, so I don’t know if they have any plans centered around Taekook right now much less back when they discovered that Taekook might not be typical bandmates.

I'm not sure what you meant by that last paragraph but why Lisa?

#taekook #vkook #ask me questions #bts taehyung #bts jungkook

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kerikaaria · 4 years

Text

If I Never Met You: Chapter 19

(??? X Reader) Idol!AU, Manager!Reader

Genre: (PG13) Fluff and angst

WC: 5.8k

Warnings: Swearing – offensive/derogatory words (censored)

Series Masterlist

Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20

It was nearing the end of September and the boys already released their first comeback, with their first mini album O!RUL8,2?. It had been just barely three months since their debut, but this album was already in the works during their debut promotions and they quickly went into practicing and recording once those died down enough.

Today was a day where the boys didn’t have any outside schedules, but Sejin and I still had some things to take care of at the company and the boys had some practices and lessons to go to. There was a meeting scheduled for early this morning, so I arrived for that but didn’t have anything in particular to do afterwards. I sat in the office, checking on a few things that we were working on before relaxing into my chair and browsing the internet on my phone.

Even though their popularity was slowly but surely growing (despite N.O not doing quite as well as we had hoped), the people who have negative things to say were starting to become much more obvious in between the positive comments. I really don’t understand why there are certain things people feel like they have to say. I wish I had a way to keep the boys from seeing those comments. But unless they want to completely ignore the internet, it was inevitable.

Thankfully, most of their interactions are on twitter where those who tweet them are for the most part supportive fans. They started to become good at filtering out the negativity, but I knew it was impossible to not be affected at all. I just hoped they used it as motivation to do their best and prove people wrong.

I found myself yawning and realized that I was actually really tired. I still had a couple of hours before I had any other real engagements, so I set my phone down and decided to take a bit of a nap at my desk.

I was woken up sometime later by a knock on the door. I slowly came back to consciousness as the person walked into the small room.

“Noona?” I recognized Yoongi’s voice.

“Hey, Suga,” I replied as I re-entered the living world. “What’s up? Do you need something?”

“No, not really,” he shrugged. “Sejin hyung asked me to check on you. Sorry to wake you.”

“It’s okay, I needed to wake up anyway,” I said, looking at the time on my computer, signifying that I had been asleep for about an hour. I quickly realized I was feeling rather hungry. “Have you eaten lunch?”

“No, not yet,” he said. “I was actually just about to go get some.”

“Mind if I come with you?” I asked as I grabbed my purse.

“Of course not.” He flashed a small smile and held the door open for me. “Anywhere in particular you want to go?”

“Not really. We can just go to that place you guys frequent. The one whose owner is really sweet.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he said as he put on his mask.

When we walked into the small restaurant, we were immediately greeted by the kind woman who ran the place. “If it isn’t some of my favorite customers,” she said with a warm smile. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” Yoongi said as he removed his mask. “We were hungry so we thought we’d come get some lunch.”

“Of course!” she said as she directed us to one of the big tables. “Is everyone else coming?”

“Oh no, just us this time, imo,” I said.

“Oh, alright.” She switched directions to a small table and urged us to sit down.

“What do you want to eat, noona?” Yoongi asked me.

“Whatever you want. I’m not picky, you know that,” I responded, smiling.

“Okay, then,” he shrugged. He ordered two different dishes, which she excitedly went to cook right away.

“How are you doing, Yoongi?” I asked.

He looked at me curiously. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Sometimes we’re all so busy I feel like I don’t have time to ask how you’re feeling.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. We’re getting used to the pace now so it’s not as hard as it was at first.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” I said, honestly feeling relieved.

“How about you, noona? Are you doing okay?” I paused, a bit surprised at the unexpected question, and he lightly chuckled. “You check on us, but who will make sure you’re okay if we don’t?”

He really is very thoughtful, I thought, smiling softly. “I’m doing fine. I’m much more confident in my abilities with the job than I used to be.”

“Good. Because you know, you really are a great manager.”

Yoongi was surprisingly talkative today, and we kept conversing until our food was brought to us a little while later. As I smiled and thanked her, I noticed the kind woman looking at me like she had something she wanted to say.

“Yes, imo?” I asked, inviting her to say what was on her mind.

“I’m just really glad that these sweet boys have someone like you to keep them company,” she said, making me smile. “I wouldn’t be surprised if one day one of them realizes how great you are and snatches you up for himself.”

“I-I’m sorry?” I asked, not quite sure if I heard her right.

“I mean you’re a great catch and I’d love to see one of the boys be the lucky man,” she said as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

Yoongi coughed, almost choking on the food he was chewing on as my mouth opened in surprise.

“Oh, well thank you,” I said, unsure of what else to say. I was sure my face was beet red. “I appreciate the compliment,” I finished, nervously.

She smiled before leaving to pay attention to another customer.

I turned to Yoongi and our gazes met for a moment before we both looked away, embarrassed by the woman’s words. Me? With one of the Bangtan boys? It was something I had never thought about. But to be honest, I felt that whoever ended up with the boys would be some of the luckiest people ever.

We finished eating and left the restaurant, and there was still a slightly awkward air left between us after the comment she had made. I wasn’t sure why it felt awkward. Maybe it was because she put the thought into my head that possibly one day, I could end up in a relationship with one of them. And maybe similar thoughts were going through Yoongi’s mind too – but was he wondering about the possibility of me dating any of them or specifically himself? Wait, no. I was stopping that thought train right there. I was not going down that rabbit hole.

I shook my head in a literal attempt to get rid of the thoughts before they went too deep. I could see Yoongi staring at me out of the corner of my eye, so I turned to look at him. Suddenly I felt a smile tugging at my lips and then both of us were laughing, quickly lightening the mood back up. I had no idea what made us start laughing, but I welcomed the change in the atmosphere.

“That was something I did not expect to hear when we decided to go out for lunch together today,” he said once our laughter calmed down.

“I know right,” I replied. “I guess it’s hard for people to see a girl hanging around a bunch of boys without thinking there is or will be romantic feelings involved somewhere. Especially when the boys are all rather good-looking,” I said in a teasing voice, knowing it would make him feel embarrassed. It was hard to embarrass Yoongi, so I enjoyed doing so when I could.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he quickly retorted back, catching me off guard.

I playfully scoffed, hoping the heat rising to my cheeks wasn’t too obvious. “Yeah, right.” I did not consider myself to be a beauty by any means, and although hearing those words wasn’t going to make me feel any different, it still made me feel embarrassed to receive the compliment.

“You really are pretty though,” Yoongi muttered, barely audible. I was surprised I picked it up at all. But I chose not to address it.

The next few minutes back to the company building were spent in silence, but not awkward like a few moments ago. Despite me being embarrassed by Yoongi’s compliment, it was still a rather comfortable silence which I welcomed.

Yoongi walked with me back to my office before he went off to his own destination, probably his studio to write some music. Sejin was sitting at the desk when I arrived, and he greeted me with a smile.

“Where did you go with Yoongi?” he asked.

“We just ate lunch together,” I said. “It’s almost time to talk with the stylist team isn’t it?”

“Yeah, you got here just in time,” he confirmed. “Let’s head on out.”

We had a couple of meetings during the rest of the day. One of which was with the team that Haewon was a part of, but luckily she didn’t seem to want to cause any drama and was rather civil today. Maybe after the last time when her efforts were fruitless, she decided to give up.

Everything took a few hours, but once that was over I didn’t have anything else I needed to do so I took a look in the dance studio, where I wasn’t surprised to see the boys practicing their choreography. I carefully entered the studio and sat in the front to watch them dance.

It always made me happy to see the instant change in them when I entered the room while they practiced. While they were still focused and concentrating, they seemed to be a little happier, and maybe more determined to make it look good for their one-person audience.

After a little while, they took a break and I got up to bring them water from the nearby bottle stash.

“You done with meetings for the day, noona?” Namjoon asked.

“Yup, I don’t have anything else to do today,” I responded. “How long are you guys going tonight?”

“Probably about another hour,” Hoseok said. “There’s a few things that need polished up still.” Leave it to him to spot the tiniest inconsistencies.

“Jimin and I went to the usual place to eat earlier,” Taehyung said, “and imo told me you and Yoongi hyung stopped by together for lunch today, noona.”

“Yeah, we did,” I replied. I looked at Yoongi, who already had his gaze fixed on me. He gave me a small smile which I returned before we both looked away.

“She said you two looked cute together,” Tae added, smirking.

“What?!” Yoongi and I said simultaneously.

“Yeah, she said she thought you’d make a cute couple,” Jimin added, looking equally mischievous.

“Yah, what kind of comment is that,” Yoongi said, scoffing.

“I definitely don’t think we acted like a couple at all,” I added.

“She’s right though,” Jungkook instigated. “You two would look cute together.”

“You all want me to kill you, don’t you?” Yoongi asked as he stood up and approached the maknaes. “Guys, I think our group is going to go down to four members after today.”

The three culprits stood up and ran for cover, Tae choosing me as his shield.

“What makes you think I’m protecting you from this?” I ask him before switching places with him, grabbing his arms to lock them behind his back and hold him still.

“No, noona!” Tae pleaded. “You wouldn’t let hyung hurt me would you?”

“Hmmm,” I pretended to think about it while Yoongi approached us. “I don’t know. What was that thing about me and Yoongi again?”

“You guys are really good friends!” he quickly righted. “There’s definitely nothing going on between you guys. Come on, please. Don’t let him hurt me.”

I released my grip on his arms so he could run off while Yoongi approached the other two who also started blurting out apologies and taking back what they said as well before they could face their hyung’s wrath.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the whole scene. Of course he wasn’t actually going to hurt them, but it was cute seeing them play around like this.

“I got some funny pictures out of that,” Jin said, smiling.

“Oh, I want to see,” I said.

“Sending them in the group chat,” Jin responded.

I went to my purse to grab my phone while I heard the notifications ring from the others’ phones. But my phone wasn’t in the pocket I usually kept it in. Confused, I continued to search through the rest of my purse but it seemed to be nowhere in the bag.

“Everything okay, noona?” Jimin asked, noticing me struggle.

“Yeah. I think I just left my phone in the office,” I replied. “I’ll be right back.” I walked out of the room to go to the office, convinced I must have left it there at some point during the day. I heard the door to the studio open again behind me and turned to see Yoongi following me.

“I’m coming with you,” he said.

“You don’t need to, it’s fine,” I replied.

Yoongi shook his head. “You don’t have your phone on you, so I’d feel more comfortable with you not being alone.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “I’m only going to my office.

Yoongi kept a blank expression as he looked at me, not budging at all.

Knowing he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, I conceded and we began to walk. When I got to the office, I searched around my desk and Yoongi looked around the other surfaces in the room to see if I could have left it elsewhere. Being unsuccessful, I looked in the pockets of my jacket I left draped over my chair, and even double checked the pockets in my own jeans. Still, nothing.

“That’s so weird,” I said. “I know I had it with me earlier.”

“When was the last time you recall using your phone?” Yoongi asked, double checking the places I looked at as well.

I thought about it for a moment. “Actually, it was probably in here. Right before I took my nap, I was using my phone.” I paused before suddenly remembering something. “I set it down on the desk before drifting off, and I don’t recall grabbing it before we went to lunch.”

“Hmm,” Yoongi contemplated what could have happened. “You don’t think Sejin hyung would have it, do you?” he asked.

“I doubt it,” I said. “Worth a shot to ask, though.”

Yoongi called Sejin on his phone to ask if he’d seen my phone at all today, but he soon ended the call before shaking his head. “He said he hasn’t seen it.”

“What could have happened?” I asked, trying to piece things together. “Was it even on my desk when I woke up?” I thought about it for a moment. “Wait. You’re not playing a prank on me are you?” I asked, walking toward Yoongi with my hands outstretched toward his pockets.

“Yah!” Yoongi said, backing away from me quickly. “Of course not. I wouldn’t go through this much trouble for a joke. Let me try calling it,” he suggested.

“Why didn’t we think of that sooner?” I asked myself under my breath.

He called my number, placing the phone to his ear just for a moment to confirm it was ringing before pulling it away to listen for my phone. But neither of us heard anything.

“I know I left the volume on,” I said, becoming increasingly confused.

We stood in silence for a moment, thinking.

“Let’s go back to the dance studio,” Yoongi said. “I need to get back to practice and it’s obviously not here so being in here won’t help us at all.”

I nodded and followed him back to the studio where the rest of the boys looked ready to resume practice.

“Did you find it?” Hoseok asked as we walked in.

I shook my head. “No. It wasn’t anywhere in the office. That was definitely the last place I remember using it, which was actually this morning before we went to lunch. I have no idea what happened.”

Yoongi had been looking at his phone the whole way back, and suddenly he stopped and looked up at me. “Noona.”

“What’s up?” I inquired.

“I think someone took your phone,” he said, turning back to his screen.

“Why is that?” I asked hesitantly, scared of the answer.

He showed me what he was looking at, and my eyes widened. The pictures that could have only been the ones that Jin mentioned before I went to look for my phone had been posted on Twitter. There were two, one of Tae hiding behind me and the other was me holding his arms behind his back while he stared at Yoongi approaching him.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook asked.

I took the phone from Yoongi’s hand, wanting to further investigate. I heard Yoongi responding but was too focused on my mission to hear what he was saying. Clicking on the profile of the person who originally uploaded the photos, I found other tweets. All from today, and all pictures of me and the boys that we had taken over the months. And of course, they were tagged with anything that would lead someone searching for BTS to them. The profile had been created just today and all the tweets were shared starting within the last few hours. Definitely after my phone had gone missing.

By the time I looked up from Yoongi’s phone, he was standing next to me observing what I was doing, and the other boys were all looking at their own phones to check it out as well. I turned my attention back to the posts, which were getting way too much attention for comfort. Luckily, I hadn’t saved any pictures from the morning when I woke up in Jin’s arms, and those were the only ones I could think of that could cause a legit scandal. I clicked on one of the tweets and scrolled down, seeing a slew of comments that I probably would have preferred to not exist.

“Who are you and what are you doing with my oppas???”

“Wow look at this sl**. Who does she think she is?”

“BigHit must have terrible management if they’re letting some foreign w**** put her hands all over BTS.”

“Ugly b****!!!!”

Yoongi grabbed the phone out of my hands before I could read anymore. “Don’t you dare listen to them, noona.”

The volume of his voice shocked me. It also garnered the attention of the other six boys, who all looked at me with concerned faces.

“She read the comments, didn’t she?” Jin asked and Yoongi just nodded in response.

“I’m going to call Sejin hyung,” Namjoon said. “Jin hyung, you call Bang.”

“Why would someone do this?” Jimin asked. “Who would… Wait never mind, I know exactly who would do something like this.”

I fell to a sitting position the floor, my body not having any strength to hold me up and my mind going blank. I vaguely heard some shuffling and a few arms were quickly supporting my back.

“It’s okay, noona,” Tae’s voice said from my right.

“Don’t worry, it’s only temporary,” Hoseok, who was on my left, added. “Bang and Sejin hyung will have a solution for this.”

Taehyung gently led my head to his shoulder and stroked my hair gently, knowing well that when I was upset affection was the best comfort for me.

The rest of the boys surrounded me on the floor, except for Joon and Jin who were still on the phone.

“Noona, whatever those people said don’t mean anything,” Jungkook said.

“They’re just upset because they don’t know who you are,” Jimin added.

“Yeah,” Tae chimed in. “And you’re none of the things they’re calling you. You’re an amazing and beautiful person, noona.”

Jin knelt in front of me, having ended his call with Bang PD-nim. “He just found out about it too. PR only caught wind of it just a little bit ago. He wants you to go to his office.”

I nodded, and attempted to stand up but my legs felt like jelly. Noticing this, Tae and Hobi helped me into a standing position.

“Sejin hyung also just heard from PR,” Namjoon said. “He asked me to tweet a picture of the eight of us and mention you’re our manager. That should help calm things down until an official statement is released.”

“It’s going to be okay, noona,” Jungkook said. “You didn’t do anything wrong, you know that. PD-nim will help fix this.”

“Come on.” Yoongi held out his hand. “I’ll go with you to see him.”

I took his hand and he led me out the door, heading towards our boss’ office. Once there, he knocked for me and we entered.

I bowed deeply, feeling at fault for what was going on. “I’m so sorry, PD-nim. It’s all my fault, I should have kept better care of my belongings.”

“Sit down, (Y/n),” he said calmly. “You too, Yoongi. Thanks for coming with her.” I straightened up and followed his instruction. “So, Yoongi said that we believe someone took your phone. Tell me, when and where do you think this happened?”

“The last time I recall using my phone was this morning in my office, just before I dozed off into a nap,” I admitted. “I think I left it sitting on my desk and I don’t recall grabbing it after I woke up. But I didn’t notice until just a little bit ago that it was gone.”

“If it happened here, that’s good,” Bang PD said. “Let’s go look at the security footage from the hallway, see if anyone entered your office.”

We all walked to the nearby security office and they helped us pull up the recording from this morning. Sure enough, we saw someone walk by the door to my office, and double take to look through the window. She stood outside for a moment, seeming to contemplate something, before deciding to open the door and came back out a moment later, very obviously holding my phone in her hands.

I’ll give you one guess whose face I recognized on the screen. So much for thinking she had given up.

“Haewon,” Yoongi practically growled her name.

“Well, someone’s getting fired,” PD-nim said as we all started walking back toward the dance studio. “Don’t worry about the rest, (Y/n). I’ll take care of it. We’ll release a statement explaining who you are and your relationship with the boys, and that your phone got hacked by an employee of the company who has now been terminated.”

“Can’t we be in the room when you fire her?” Yoongi asked. “I want to see her face when she realizes she’s been found out.”

“It would be rather inappropriate of me to have you in the room,” PD-nim said, stopping at the studio door. “But I may happen to accidentally video call you,” he said with a smile before turning the handle.

We walked into the room, all eyes turning their attention to us. “Oh, and (Y/n),” Bang called out to me before closing the door all the way. “Comments written in jealousy are empty and mean nothing. Don’t listen to them, okay?”

I gave him a small smile and nodded before he walked away.

“So?” Jimin asked expectantly.

I looked at Yoongi, who just smirked. “We’re going to have a show to watch.” It wasn’t really necessary to explain what had happened – by now everyone had figured that there was only one person who would stoop so low.

As we waited for the “accidental” call from Bang PD-nim, Namjoon showed me the tweet he shared. He wrote, “Everyone, meet our manager and friend, (Y/n)! She’s been with us for a year now and she’s amazing and treats us so well. We hope you love her as much as we do!” Underneath was one of my favorite pictures of the eight of us. It was from the day they surprised me at the park last year, and we had asked someone to take a picture of us. We’re in some kind of big group hug and we all look really happy.

The comments underneath were amazing, drastically different from the ones I saw before.

Awww, I’m so jealous of her, getting to spend so much time with you! You all look so happy!

I knew it had to be something like that. I’m glad you said something, those jealous girls needed someone to shut them up.

But why and how did the pictures get released in the first place? Was this planned for publicity?

She’s so cute! You got a fan in me, (Y/n) unnie!

She looks young to be a manager, but maybe that means she’s just that good at her job. BTS, (Y/n) unnie, fighting!

And many more similar comments filled the feed. A wave of relief washed over me. Some may not believe it and still think it was a publicity stunt, but the explanation would be coming soon with the PR statement. Bang PD-nim just needed to talk to Haewon first.

“See, I told you it was temporary,” Hoseok said as he wrapped his arms around me to hug me tight.

“I’m just glad this was something that we could wash over really quick,” I said.

Yoongi’s phone rang and he accepted the video call, keeping his own camera off and muted his microphone just in case. He propped it up in a spot on the floor where all of us could see.

“She’s about to enter my office,” Bang PD whispered toward the phone.

We then heard a knock at the door before he invited the guest to come in. She walked in, slightly bowing her head and saying hello. He had positioned his phone really well so we could see everything she did.

“You needed to see me?” Haewon asked, trying to sound innocent.

“Yes,” PD-nim responded. “Something happened today, and it caused quite a bit of an uproar with the netizens. Some photos from a BigHit employee’s personal phone were leaked.”

“Oh really?” she responded, acting surprised. Wow, she was surprisingly good at putting on an act. “I’m sorry, but I’m not from PR. Maybe you have the wrong staff?”

“No, I definitely have the right staff,” he assured her. “Miss Son, did you know that we have a strict policy against workplace harassment and bullying? And we also don’t tolerate theft. It’s also in the employment contract that leaking sensitive and personal information regarding BigHit activities or its employees is strictly forbidden. All three of these acts are grounds for immediate termination.”

“You tell her, Bang,” Jin quietly cheered.

“I’m sorry, I’m not quite understanding how this has anything to do with me,” she replied, still playing the innocent card.

“Miss Son, did you take another BigHit employee’s personal belongings this morning?” he asked. “Specifically, a cell phone.”

She pretended to be confused. “Of course not, sir. Why would I do that?”

We could hear Bang PD sigh. It seemed like he was tired of being patient with her act. “Son Haewon-shi, I don’t appreciate lies.” He turned his computer screen to face both of them, also bringing it into our view. He clicked on a file from his desktop, bringing up the security footage from when she stole my phone this morning.

We saw the look on her face as she panicked, probably trying to figure out how to get herself out of this one. But we all knew there was no getting out.

“Why would you enter someone else’s office,” Bang PD asked, “one you had no business entering? And you’re very obviously holding (Y/n)’s phone in your hand. I’d appreciate it if you returned it to me. Right now please, Haewon-shi.”

“I wanted to talk to her, and saw her in the room so I opened the door,” she tried as an excuse. “But she was asleep, so I left shortly after. That phone in my hands is my own.”

“Wow, she has quite some nerve,” Namjoon said as some of the others scoffed or muttered under their breath at the ridiculous excuse.

“Okay, we can play this game,” Bang PD said, clearly fed up with her. He opened up another file on his computer. I instantly recognized it. It was a combination of three security cameras, the first showing me and Yoongi around a corner before walking into a hallway. And then it switched to the second camera which showed Haewon and her coworker walking towards me before pouring her coffee on my arm. And a few moments later, after I turned another corner and they had walked away, it switched to the third camera to show me in pain and Yoongi quickly wrapping his jacket around me and leading me away to treat the burn.

I heard various reactions from the boys to the clip, everyone displeased with seeing the event take place. While they all knew it happened, the rest hadn’t witnessed the scene so it seemed to be hard for them to watch.

“That was an accident, sir,” Haewon quickly defended.

Jimin scoffed. “She was so obvious. It didn’t even look like an accident. She literally tipped it over and spilled the whole thing on you. What a-“

“Language,” Jin said quickly before Jimin could get the word out.

While Jimin spoke, Bang PD had said something to a similar affect as him (although in a calmer, more professional manner) on the other side of the call. Then he pulled up another file. This time, it was in the main lobby when I had chased after Taehyung.

“How the heck did he find this one?” I asked. “I couldn’t even remember what date it was.”

We watched as Tae defended me against her attempt at causing trouble before grabbing my hand and leading me out of the building.

“Wow, you look so cool, hyung!” Jungkook admired.

Tae flashed him a smile as he linked his arm through mine.

“I’m sorry sir, but what is this one proving?” Haewon asked. “It looked like something was wrong, so I asked if I could help.”

“Except that you had a smile on your face before approaching them, not a look of concern. And you obviously said something to make Taehyung feel defensive,” PD-nim said. “Not to mention the look on your face as you watched them walk away is tell-tale to your dislike of (Y/n).”

Haewon sat back in her seat, crossing her arms. Her façade was quickly fading.

“And let’s not forget,” PD-nim said as he played the last clip, from the cafeteria.

“I already told you about this one,” Haewon defended.

“But you told me a completely different story than what both the footage and (Y/n) and Hoseok’s accounts do. You approached her, and based on what I see, it looks like you’re the one who’s bothering her. When you came to me, you told me she was harassing you, but you couldn’t go into detail. (Y/n) and Hoseok both explained the conversation in detail and it perfectly matched with what I see here.”

Haewon didn’t have any more defenses, and we could see how irritated she was.

“Yes! Go in for the kill, PD-nim!” Hoseok cheered.

“So, multiple accounts of workplace bullying, theft of another employee’s personal belongings, and leaking personal information of said employee that could have potentially caused damage to the company,” Bang PD summarized all the counts against her. “Do you still want to claim you are innocent?”

Haewon rolls her eyes. “Fine. I bothered her a bit. But she’s so arrogant and annoying. She isn’t even good at her own job and thinks she can do other peoples’ jobs for them. She’s a useless child who should go back to where she came from.”

I saw Yoongi stand up abruptly, starting to head towards the door. I quickly followed, stepping in front of him just before he reached the handle. “Yoongi, calm down.”

“How can I be calm?” Yoongi practically yelled. “How can you be calm after hearing her talk about you like that? I’m sick of her thinking she can just walk all over you and insult you without any consequences!”

“She is getting her consequences, Yoongi,” I said as I placed my hands on his shoulders to try to calm him down.

“By getting fired,” he retorted. “What exactly is that going to do?”

“Yoongi, please,” I said as I held his gaze with my own. “I know you’re angry. But it’s not your fight, it’s mine. And I’m choosing to let the consequences that Bang PD is dealing suffice as her payment. That’s enough for me.”

He looked away, letting out a huff as he calmed down. I took hold of his hands with my own to lead him back toward everyone else. They remained on the floor, but it seemed their full attention had turned to us. I also noticed it seemed that the call had ended.

“What did we miss?” I asked as we sat back down.

“Basically just PD-nim saying she’s fired, needed to give your phone back, and that if she saved anything from your phone on an outside device it has to be immediately deleted and never ever show up anywhere unless she wants to be sued,” Taehyung explained without taking a breath.

“Oh, okay then,” I said chuckling.

“That was amazing!” Namjoon exclaimed.

“Oh my gosh, the look on her face when it changed from ‘I’m innocent’ to ‘Oh no I’m screwed’ was so hilarious!” Jimin said.

As they continued to be ecstatic over the events that just occurred, PD-nim entered the room, holding my phone. “You might want to change your password to something that isn’t so obvious, (Y/n)-shi. Even I guessed it on the first try.”

I chuckled nervously as I took my phone from him.

“What is your password, noona?” Namjoon asked.

“1306,” I said.

“What’s even the point of using a password if it’s going to be so obvious, (Y/n)?” Jin asked as he laughed.

“Well, I’m just glad this is over now,” Yoongi said. “No more Haewon causing you trouble or bothering you.”

“Thank you, Bang PD-nim,” I said as I bowed deeply. “I appreciate all your help and your understanding.”

I saw him smiling as I straightened up. He reached out to place a hand on my shoulder. “If you ever need anything, and I mean anything, never hesitate to let me know. You’re a part of our family and I’ll always be here for you.”

A/N - I just wanted to say that it really is not okay to say things like the offensive comments portrayed in this chapter. People can be quick to judge, and with the internet and a computer in between it can be easy to forget that on the other side that is another person, and you may not have all the proper information of the situation. Of course, everyone is allowed to have their own opinions but if they’re unkind then do they really need to be said? Just a general PSA to not be a prick :)

Series Masterlist

Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope @misohime @netflix-batman-sleep @smallbaby-cat @leitholdwithlove @ramyagovindraj @leesalts @rjsmochii

Send me a message or ask if you want tagged! And also feel free to leave comments or send asks to just talk to me!

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hotaruyy · 4 years

Text

Mulan (2020): A Scathing Review

Or, an extremely long rant by two extremely mad Chinese girls.

Before we (@hotaruyy and @meow3sensei) watched Mulan (2020), we didn’t expect too much, since the director and screenwriters aren’t Chinese (even though they claimed to want to be more culturally accurate). But holy shit, this film didn’t even fulfill our exceedingly low expectations (and we’re speaking as people who didn’t mind the loss of the musical aspect because look at the Beauty and the Beast live action). Our review will focus on our critiques of the presentation of different aspects of Chinese culture in Mulan (2020).

The Chinese Aspect of the film was especially infuriating to us as a Chinese audience. Disney emphasises that many of the changes made to the film in comparison to the animated film were to accommodate backlash regarding cultural and historical inaccuracies from Chinese audiences, but what we saw on the screen showed otherwise.

On Set Design (By a slightly irritated Architecture student)

Mix and match of architecture from multiple dynasties, which removes a lot of the sense of realism and authenticity from the film

Tang-style architecture is used (and if we’re being specific, Tang with hints of Song Dynasty) in the Imperial City’s set, which one would assume depicts the time period in which the movie is set in. Identified by the wooden balustrades, relatively simple and small dougong, vertical lattice windows, wooden piles for waterfront, organic shapes in landscape architecture etc. (fig. 1)

fig. 1 - Scene in film

Understandably, information on architecture before Tang (618-907AD) is scarce, so I do think there was an attempt at referencing the original poem that was written during the Southern and Northern Northern Wei Dynasty 南北朝北魏 (386-581AD). Taking creative liberty here makes sense.

That being said, the film didn’t care for retaining a consistent style of architecture, resulting in a wormhole of a set that somehow spans five different dynasties. Only two examples will be listed to avoid an entire essay :)

Exhibit A. Mulan’s home in Hakka Tulou 客家圍土樓 (fig. 2) (roughly translates to Hakka Mud Towers), which originated in the Song and Yuan dynasties (960-1368AD), and started maturing in the late Ming dynasty. (Why use something that didn’t even exist when the Ballad was written and by doing so, physically place Mulan in Fujian?? Just put her in an ambiguous village like how the animation did??). Somehow Tulou started existing before the Hakka clan migrated down south :) To put it simply the presence of Tulou is a locational and historical bug. The jump from the Hakka Tulou to the Tang-styled Imperial palace (fig. 3, which is strictly speaking a hybrid of different styles but I’d argue still mostly Tang) in the opening scenes is only a taste of the amount of inconsistencies later seen in the film.

fig. 2 Scene in film - Hakka Tulou

fig. 3 Scene in film - the Imperial Palace

Exhibit B. This scene (1:20:14) showing Qing Dynasty architecture in what is supposed to be a Tang Dynasty setting, identified by more elaborately decorated dougong 斗栱 (fig. 4 a key feature in the structural system in Chinese architecture, referring to the interlocking structure that sits on top of each column; at least three different kinds of dougong from three different dynasties have been spotted in the film).

fig. 4 Examples of different Dougong in Ancient Chinese architecture (top left being a good example of Tang-styled Dougong)

An insignificant building is not supposed to have more glamorous and larger dougong than the Imperial Palace, not to mention the lack of decorative dougong at all during the Tang Dynasty.

fig. 5 Scene in film that features a building with dougong

fig. 6 Shenyang Imperial Palace built in the Qing Dynasty

An actual Qing Dynasty Palace (fig. 6), for reference, and a random scene from the film (fig. 5). Note the larger dougong both fig. 5 and 6 (the ratio of dougong to column is significantly larger) with more layers of interlocking segments, as compared to the Tang-styled dougong that we pointed out earlier.

On Costume Design

Blue fabric on people who are NOT ROYALTY/NOBILITY. Soldiers guarding the imperial gate would not be wearing blue shirts under their armour. There wouldn’t be such a big supply of blue fabric in the first place; blue fabric would absolutely not be mass-produced for soldiers.

Ancient Chinese people made blue dye from crushed butterflies, did no one care enough to consider the sheer amount of wealth it takes to dye blue fabric organically? Soldiers would very simply not be wearing blue fabric because of how expensive these colours were at the time. Artistic liberty is fine but at least make it make sense in a clearly hierarchical society??

The painful inaccuracies in Mulan’s costume in the matchmaking scene (fig. 7). Ah, the scene that managed to translate breathtaking Hanfu (and there are plenty of resources to take inspiration from) into a Western caricature of a Chinese Halloween costume.

fig. 7 Scene in film featuring Mulan’s Hanfu from the matchmaking sequence

There’s nothing wrong with taking artistic liberties for costumes with a historical context. For instance, exaggerating certain characteristics of the era the story is in, or modernizing certain features so that they align with the character’s more modern way of thinking to contrast with the traditional setting. Good examples that come to mind are the costume designs in Marie Antoinette (2006), or Nirvana in Fire (2015), which also happens to be a Chinese period piece set in a fictional, historically ambiguous era. Inspiration for its costume design is taken from the Han Dynasty and the Southern and Northern Dynasties, so its costumes combine clothing silhouettes from the two periods, and use different characteristics such as colour to reflect class and status, and to represent characters’ personalities. It does a really good job of creating a new style while still giving subtle visual cues to the audience.

But Mulan’s dress can hardly be called an interpretation of traditional Chinese clothing. This is something the animated film did poorly on as well, and this probably contributed to the costume design in this film as an adaptation of the cartoon. The fabric had a shiny sheen that cheapened the costume. Coupled with the strange silhouette of the Hanfu (especially the bottom part of the skirt), this further detaches the audience from any hint of authenticity. The pictures below can speak for themselves. If they’re aiming for ambiguity in terms of the dynasties as seen in the set, then at least make something that is visually pleasing??

fig. 8 Evolution of Hanfu

fig. 9 Tang Hanfu recreated with references from Tang artifacts (top: early Tang; bottom: golden era of the Tang period)

For whatever reason it seems like the extras in the background have more accurate costumes than the main character

And as a girl from a farming village why is she being trained like a noble lady??? A question I’ve had since the animated film…

The film wasn’t consistent when taking artistic liberties. Audiences subconsciously make visual connections to historical periods when watching a historical fiction film. It would be visually more cohesive if artistic liberties were taken on elements from one dynasty or by combining elements from dynasties with similar aesthetics, instead of jumping across centuries of very different stylistic approaches.

Basing the set design on the Tang Dynasty, but then including random shots of Qing Dynasty architecture of no particular importance (two very contrasting architectural styles); extras having Tang-style Hanfu, but Mulan not having one that's remotely close to any style of the multiple dynasties the film has taken inspiration from; alluding to the time period in which the ballad was written by painting Mulan’s forehead yellow 黃額妝 (which was poorly done but I digress), a style of makeup used by women of the Six dynasties and the Southern and Northern Dynasties (六朝女子), but everything else alludes to Tang or later. And finally, basing many things off the Tang Dynasty, but the Tang wasn’t in risk of invasion from the Huns or the Rouran??? We’re fucking confused :)

Small details like the ones we’ve listed above are visually off-putting; as an audience member I’m immediately thrown out of whatever universe the film is building due to the contradicting visual cues. If this was Disney’s and the director’s attempt at cultural accuracy, then it’s plainly insulting to the intelligence of their Chinese audience. (Respecting cultural concerns should not be Disney’s scapegoat for producing a bad movie.)

Ultimately, the film is based on a ballad and we wouldn’t say the points we’ve mentioned are considered common knowledge. So let’s treat it as a fictional era and put less significance on historical consistencies and authenticity. Let’s narrow it down to the crude representations (and misrepresentations) of general Chinese culture and society.

On Stereotypes

“Chi”: Why are soldiers receiving chi-related martial arts training, which takes years and years of elite, specialised training and experience? Ordinary soldiers don’t train their chi, they are not Wuxia 武俠 (roughly translates to martial arts chivalry). These people aren’t training for Jianghu martial art contests (江湖俠道的比武), they are training to kill for war, which does not require finesse at all. Even disregarding the lack of logic in training ordinary soldiers in martial arts (especially them teaching Taichi in the film), logistically it is simply not worth the economic and time cost of training entire regiments in martial arts only for them to be mostly killed off in battle. (Sorry, it’s difficult to explain wuxia and jianghu in a few words, but they’re super cool so please search them up if you’re interested!)

Many others on tumblr have commented on how chi itself is not the weird masculine "power" the film made it out to be, which is also very true (it's also actually very interesting so search it up if you want to!)

On Language as a Limitation

Clumsy translations of Chinese idioms and phrases that are just tragic comedy, e.g. 四兩撥千斤 being translated into “four ounces can move a thousand pounds”, which neglects the subtlety and gentle vibe of the original word choice while twisting the concept into something related to brute force or physics (but we guess this specific example is not entirely the screenwriters’ fault, since some English Taichi classes also translate it as that).

Replacing Chinese concepts and mythology directly with Western concepts such as witches, phoenixes rising from the ashes etc.

The single clumsy reference to the original “Ballad of Mulan” 雄兔腳撲朔，雌兔眼迷離；雙兔傍地走，安能辨我是雄雌？(translates to: when being held by the ears off the ground, male rabbits would have fidgeting front legs, while female rabbits close their eyes; who’s to tell male and female apart when the two rabbits are running side by side?) This line is an acknowledgement and compliment to Mulan’s intelligence and capabilities. It also challenges patriarchal beliefs of gender and women.

On Traditional Virtues (or the oversimplification of them, and a continuation of Language as a Limitation)

The film’s traditional values of 忠勇真 (translated as loyal, brave, and true in the film by using the most direct translations possible) and 孝 (translated as "devotion to family" in the film) seem to be a reference to the core values of Confucianism. We assume that the film is referencing these Confucian core values: 仁 (to be humane)、恕 (to forgive)、誠 (to be honest and sincere)、孝 (filial piety) and 尊王道 (to be loyal to the emperor). If the screenwriters were going to use traditional values, it is curious for them to choose only those three specifically, and to grossly simplify the actual values in their choice of Chinese characters (instead of using the conventional characters), then to grossly simplify them again in their English translations, and then to put them together in that order. The film also just briefly goes over the values by plainly listing them out in the form of an oath, thereby erasing the complexities of the values...

In a hilarious weibo post by 十四皮一下特别开心, they point out that the three values of 忠勇真 used in the film actually directly translate and correspond to the FBI motto of “Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity” :)

Let’s talk about 孝, the fourth traditional virtue engraved in the sword gifted to Mulan by the emperor at the end of the film. Over everything else, this is the original ballad’s central moral, and what we believe the film is also trying to evoke, so the weak translation diminishes the story’s message. The animation was smart in not directly translating it and instead demonstrates what it entails through the progression of the plot. The film does the opposite and translates it as “devotion to family”, when they could have just referred to it as filial piety. Care, respect, thankfulness and giving back to one’s parents and elderly family members. While obedience and devotion are part of what the virtue teaches, it's not supposed to sound like an obligation, it’s not something ritualistic, it’s just something everyone does as a “good” human being.

(And if the director and screenwriters were trying to diminish the role and significance of filial piety in the film on purpose because they wanted Mulan to appear “stronger” and “individualistic”, then… I really have no words for how painfully insensitive that is in terms of how white feminism does not and should not apply to or be imposed on other cultures.)

And here’s our list of Things That Also Pissed Us Off that other people on tumblr have talked about already, which is why we’re mentioning them without much elaboration:

On Feminism

We get that Disney was trying to make a female empowerment movie but they really missed the mark? Even with a female director, somehow. Stepping back and ignoring the Chinese aspects of the film, as a female audience this film was equally, if not more, hurtful

Mulan is only seen as “strong” because of her extraordinarily powerful “gift” of chi that led to her being physically more powerful than the men, especially in that scene where she lugs the two buckets of water to the peak of the mountain (which is in sharp contrast to how Mulan in the animated film is strong because she’s intelligent and is able to utilise teamwork and her strengths properly, and doesn’t let her understandable disadvantage in terms of physical strength trip her up)

All female characters are one-dimensional as fuck and are mere caricatures (though to be fair, the male characters aren’t treated much better) BUT PEOPLE, MULAN IS THE MAIN CHARACTER!! Her name is literally the name of the film!!! Maybe give her some character??? And what happened to wanting to produce good Asian representation in Hollywood???

The character of the witch was slightly more complex than everyone else, which, good for her, but then the screenwriters had her killed when she could easily have not been written with that conclusion to her arc?? Seems to us like some bullshit where the witch had to be punished in a narrative sense because she “succumbed” to using her powers (which are again dubiously chi-related) for “evil”, when instead she was merely trying to achieve as much as she could for herself in a patriarchal system designed to punish her

Plus the implication of writing the sequence of the witch sacrificing herself for Mulan is that Mulan is inherently more worthy of protection because she’s more “noble”, which, again, we call bullshit. Mulan achieved (impossible) success and validation in a patriarchal system because she played by their rules of what it means to be a masculine “warrior” and excelled, while the witch is scorned and punished within the story and also in a narrative sense because she doesn’t. Is that really what it means to be noble and good???? Does that really make Mulan superior to the witch?? (Honestly this plot point might have worked if there was more complexity written into the script, but unfortunately there wasn't)

Can’t believe they just threw away what could have been a perfectly complex and compelling relationship between Mulan and the witch because of shitty writing

The way Mulan lets her hair down and dumps her armour as an indication of her female identity (which is irritating to us on so many levels, as explained by various tumblr users)

On Production

Plot and character arcs have no emotional tension; they’re super rushed and super shallow; emotional beats are not hit properly (e.g. Mulan’s loyalty and friendship towards the soldiers, built up with one line from Honghui “you can turn your back on me...but please don’t turn your back on them” kind of bullshit)

The screenwriters would not know character depth or development even if it were shoved in their face

Blatant symbolism and metaphors (e.g. the fucking phoenix, and thank fuck it doesn’t look like a western phoenix) that make the film feel very… low.

Cinematography and editing: some very beautiful and compositionally interesting shots, but the battle scenes lack tension. The jump cuts disrupt the rhythm and intensity of the fighting; in combination with the overuse of slow motion, they drag the pace of the choreography and further slow down the rhythm of the scene. Exaggerated colour toning make certain scenes more fantastical than others, resulting in a mix of realistic landscapes in some scenes and highly saturated unnatural colours in others, which draws the audience in and out of the film’s universe. This is a shame because they actually took the effort to film in real landscapes.

fig. 10 Scene in film

Special effects: lack of blood in battle scenes (which, fine, they want it to be family-friendly) and Mulan’s suddenly clean face after she returns to her female identity visually puts off the audience (and links back to the issues surrounding the visual representation of her femininity)

And here’s the extremely short list of Things That We Liked:

That first fight scene between the witch and mulan when the witch brushes mulan’s hair away from her face with her claw while restraining her because that was gay as fuck and I am but a weak bisexual!!!

Donnie Yen’s action sequences lmao (they’re not even among the better ones he’s done so everyone go watch Ip Man for actually good action sequences and choreography)

Just listening to the soundtrack itself was great, loved the Reflection variations but I was simply too distracted by the other shitty things in the film

All-asian cast (thank fuck) with impressive actors and actresses (who should not be blamed for a shitty script)

TL;DR: This film is not worth your time or money. Inferior to the animated film (which already has a few questionable aspects). If you’re somehow really interested in seeing how badly Disney butchered Chinese culture (and to a certain extent the animated film), then just pirate this film. If you want to know what happened but can’t be bothered to waste your time watching the film, read this amazing and hilarious twitter thread by @XiranJayZhao, which we found right before we posted this review, and pretty much sums up our viewing experience as well.

Disclaimer: At the end of the day we're two girls from a predominantly Chinese society who are used to Chinese period films and dramas, watching Mulan (2020), a film primarily meant for Chinese diaspora and audiences in the West, with the Chinese market in Asia being just a secondary economic opportunity for Disney. We do realise that we aren't this film's target audience, and that we're not at all experts in everything we've discussed in this review. A lot of this is just us nitpicking, and all of it is just our personal (and very emotive) opinions from watching this film. Mostly we're just disappointed that the film was advertised to be relatively realistic and culturally accurate, but… wasn't.

Sigh.

Btw please feel free to ask us for recs of actually good, actually Chinese films and shows lmao.

Finally, all the love to our beta @keekry, for her many suggestions and hilarious comments!!!

#mulan #mulan 2020 #mulan 1998 #mulan live action #chinese culture #chinese architecture #chinese clothes #chinese costumes #chinese fashion #hanfu #mulan spoilers #long post #film review #disney #as a side note i have no idea why everyone thinks it's pronounced xian lang when in fact it's xian niang

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thefallenlilith · 6 years

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TURNING TO THE MOON (2/?)

Kamilah x MC (Millie)

Part 1

....

For four days in a row Kamilah had fallen asleep while she had been working, which in itself was unusual, but each day she’d had dreams of her future; of these snippets of a contented life with a young woman she had only known for barely a month.

The logical part of her brain had to constantly remind herself that she still didn't fully know Millie, because the emotional side remembered exactly what it was like to be entirely in love with her.

It was hard to ignore.

Now was probably the time to admit that these were not just dreams, because they were far too vivid and specific for there not to be something else at work.

The previous three dreams she'd had, Millie had turned into the sun at the moment that Kamilah had felt her most content, and then she'd felt herself turn to dust. This was the first time something had spoken to her though.

Or maybe it really was just her subconscious telling her that she should accept that happiness, for her, was only ever going to be an illusion. Especially with a human.

The chirp of her intercom interrupted her thoughts.

"Ms Sayeed, your lunch has arrived."

Kamilah rolled her neck, mostly to try and remove the thoughts from her mind. "Yes, Evie, send her in."

A young auburn haired woman was ushered into her office by her smirking secretary.

She would admonish Evie for her behaviour, but she was the rarest of vampires, in that she actually enjoyed menial tasks, and she was very good at them. So Kamilah forgave the few, small, unprofessional moments she had.

As the door shut, the young woman took several hesitant steps before coming to a sudden stop halfway between the desk and the exit.

"Would you like something to drink?" Kamilah asked as she stood and walked towards the redhead.

"No thank you." The woman shook her head; her eyes trained on her as she moved closer. "I'm Leigh."

Kamilah pursed her lips. She didn't like it when her food had a name. Evie should've informed the young woman of this.

"Oh, wait, sorry! I shouldn't have said that! I blurt when I'm nervous or excited."

Kamilah really didn't care which one of those she was. "It's fine. Are you ready?"

The young woman nodded and tilted her head to the side.

At least her food had managed to get something right, she thought as she sunk her teeth into a clean, unfragranced neck, and began to drink. A second later her approval disappeared when the redhead's hands went straight onto Kamilah's hips.

Carefully, so she wouldn't spook her, she took hold of the woman’s wrists and held them firmly by her side; but then the inappropriate noises began, and she had to pull away.

She pricked her finger with her fang and healed her bite marks. "Thank you." She said as she turned back towards her desk. "Evie, will compensate you for your trouble."

"That was... Uh... Quicker than I thought it would be."

"Yes, well, it seems as though I was not as hungry as I thought."

"Oh. Eyes bigger than your belly, as my mom says." She chuckled as she patted her stomach.

Kamilah forced her face to be as neutral as she could. "Indeed."

The woman thanked her unnecessarily, and spun on her heel towards the exit. As soon as she opened the door, all annoyance left Kamilah as she saw Millie standing in the adjoining office; her gaze following the young woman leaving, and then to Kamilah. Her eyebrow quirked and she had an amused smile.

"Millie's here!" Evie shouted.

"Yes. I can see. Thank you."

Her girlfriend snorted a laugh as she crossed the threshold and slammed the door behind her. "You know, I'm beginning to think that you have a type." She walked straight up to Kamilah and perched herself on the desk next to her.

"Which is?"

"Young, redhead and, perky."

"I... Hadn't actually considered that." She was surprised by the revelation. And thinking about it, this was only a recent taste. "Does it bother you?"

"Why would it?"

"As you just pointed out, I apparently have a type."

Millie shrugged and gave her wicked smile before she leaned down to kiss her. It reminded Kamilah of her dream.

"That wasn't an answer."

Millie let out a sigh. "Am I bothered you have a type? No."

Kamilah spun in her chair to face Millie, and pulled her onto her lap. "I sense a 'but'."

Millie snorted loudly. "Butt sense!"

Kamilah didn't know why it was funny, but she was amused by her girlfriend's reaction.

It was these silly moments that made her feelings grow for this young woman; which was strange, because before meeting her, she found this behaviour immature and tiresome.

"Sorry." Millie said, wrapping her arms around Kamilah's neck, and snuggled into her. "I'm not bothered exactly. Just, a little jealous I guess."

"Of what?"

"It's stupid."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Tell me anyway."

"Okay." Millie blew out a breath. "I just get bummed thinking that I have to share you. And before you say anything, I know that they're just, a snack, to you, but it's still super intimate. I've only been fed on once, and -"

Kamilah straightened up abruptly, and growled. "Who fed on you?"

She wasn't blind. Practically every vampire she'd seen while Millie was around drooled over her. Adrian, Lily and Jax included.

"Whoa!" Millie tightened her grip on Kamilah so she didn't fall on her ass. "It was Lily! She'd just had some hangry frenzied blood lust thing. She needed to eat!"

"Did she attack you?"

"No! I, offered."

"That was extremely dangerous. She could have killed you if she had lost control. Don't do that again."

Millie's brows shot up, and leaned back to fully look at her. "Is that an order?"

Kamilah noted the incredulous tone in her voice, and studied her face for a few moments. "No. I'm sorry. Think of it more as a request, rather than an command. I'm quite attached to you, and I'd rather nothing happened to you."

The command, it seemed, would have to be directed at the baby vampire instead.

"Awww! You lurve me." Millie grinned as she manoeuvred herself so that she was straddling her.

"I wouldn't go that far." Kamilah deadpanned, hoping Millie couldn't tell she was lying.

"Sure. Whatever you say, My Queen." Her girlfriend cupped her face and brushed her thumbs over Kamilah's lips before pulling her in for a long, slow passionate kiss.

Kamilah closed her eyes, and her hands found their way under Millie's shirt, following the trail up her stomach until she reached the lacy bra. She'd been admonished more than once for ruining the other woman's underwear - which had been replaced - but she had kept her impatience in check after she was told that a strong breeze had given some construction workers a free show. Annoyingly, Millie had refused to tell her where these construction workers were located.

So now she removed the bothersome underwear the old fashioned way. While they were in her office at least. Although it took a great deal restraint, especially like now while Millie was moaning into her mouth, and her hips were undulating against her own.

"Ms Sayeed. It's six o'clock."

She let out an irritated grunt, and begrudgingly pulled away from the kiss. "We should get home."

Millie cocked her head and raised an eyebrow in a silent question.

"What?”

"Nothing!" She looked like the proverbial cat that got the cream, and gave Kamilah a quick peck on the lips before extracting herself from her lap. "What is this thing that's happening tonight?"

"Officially, it's a conclave of various clans from other cities in the United States. It is meant as a platform to discuss local and national issues. In reality it's an excuse for a party."

"Sounds like any other government to me. You sure you want me there? Last time that many vampires were all in one place, all hell broke loose."

"Well, with Vega no longer being an issue and Nicole incarcerated, the clanless are now Clan Matsuo; and the decreased number of ferals in the city now, I think it's safe to say that won't happen again."

"So the only thing I have to be worried about is a large group of drunken vampires being super creepy around me. That sounds like oodles of fun."

"I'll make sure that doesn't happen. They'll know that you're mine." Kamilah paused, then corrected herself. "That you're with me. Not that you belong to me."

"Not a great save, but kudos for trying." Millie gave her a thumbs up. "What time is this shindig happening?"

"In three hours."

"Is that why we have to go, home, so we can get gussied up?"

"Yes. Why did you emphasize the word 'home' like that?"

"I didn't. Let's go!" Millie turned and marched out of the office; only remembering to straighten her clothes after she had passed Evie's desk.

Kamilah rolled her eyes and followed after her.

Her designer and hair stylist were waiting for them in the lobby of her building, and they snapped to attention as she walked by, towards the elevator.

"Did you bring all the dresses I asked for, Samantha?"

"Yes, Ms Sayeed." The tall brunette nodded.

"Esteban, I need you to focus on Miss Taylor's hair."

"Hey, what's wrong with how it is now?" Millie sulked.

"It's... Unruly."

"Yeah? So's your face!" She stared at Kamilah defiantly for a second and then sagged. "No it's not. Your face is very lovely."

"Hmm." Kamilah smirked. "Thank you for saying so."

"You're very welcome. So what you going to do with my mane then, Esteban?"

"That would be Ms Sayeed's decision." The blonde, sun-kissed man answered with a Spanish accent that Kamilah had noticed was wildly inconsistent. Probably because his name was actually Steve, and he was from Queens.

She suppressed a smile as she watched Millie's face contort in annoyance at her stylist.

"I think what Esteban means is that he will show you his portfolio, and you can decide yourself."

The man's eyes went wide and nodded. "Yes, that is exactly what I meant."

Her girlfriend narrowed her gaze at the man. "Good! I think your going to have to work real hard to build up the rapport we built up Esteban; you know, those precious moments between us getting in the car, and you talking." She pointed a finger at him, and he looked like he was about to have a panic attack.

The ding of the doors opening interrupted the scene, and Kamilah took hold of Millie's hand and headed towards the main entrance of her penthouse.

"Not everyone appreciates your sense of humour, Miss Taylor."

"They can suck it."

Kamilah laughed as she pulled out the ring of keys, and hesitated. Before she could even think about it, she touched the part of the door that she had cracked in her dream.

"Hey?" Millie asked quietly. "Are you... Are you okay?"

"Yes. Of course. Let's prepare for the evening shall we?"

Once inside, she showed the three humans into one of the spare rooms she had, and made her way to the kitchen. After scanning the area for any sign of the mess she knew would be there ten years from now, she pulled out her phone.

As much as she didn't like the idea, she needed counsel from someone who would be able to determine whether these were dreams, or visions. Unfortunately, witches were not known for cooperating with vampires, but she felt it was worth the risk.

Millie was worth the risk.

(A/N: So my writing style is basically dumb, slow burn fluff with a plot that you need a humorously large magnifying glass, and a deerstalker hat to spot. Just fair warning :))

#kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #choices bb #choices fic #bloodbound

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titsthedamnseason · 3 years

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also i will NEVER forgive those damn twins for the absolute highway robbery that was the characterization of rose and ryke. like those two literally carried everyone on their backs for a whopping ten books but we still didn’t even know what they were like pre-addicted to you?? i honestly think this is where the timeline does them a disservice because of when those two were thrown into the story. lily, lo, connor, and daisy all went through their respective arcs so we could visually track their development whereas ryke and rose (beside rose losing her virginity) were essentially already wrapped up. samantha literally slapped rose and they never mentioned it again??? im so sorry to bombard you with my word vomit but kbr annoy the hell out of me

first of all PLEASE never apologize bc all i think about is the addicted series 24/7 and i have hardly anyone to actually share my thoughts with that cares so YES THANK YOU FOR SENDING THESE

anyway, i actually disagree? sort of? for one i’m biased bc i’m a lilo stan but i don’t necessarily think ryke and rose carried everyone on their backs. i feel like all of the characters were so strong and entertaining and could easily have stood on their own without rose and/or ryke (although the core six is better together obvs)

and then, if i’m being honest, i never read hothouse flower, so i’ve always had a lot of gaps in my brain where Important Ryke Characterization should be and i played it off as being hothouse flower gaps, i never considered maybe they just never wrote it. i have always thought the info we had on his childhood was sparing besides a few mentions of his overbearing mother, who by the way became completely irrelevant after afn LOL (although the lack of info might also be a stylistic choice on their part since ryke is so private and they’re known to mesh writing style with characterization in that way so 🤷🏼‍♀️)

and then as for rose! i really think we did get a lot of her background? i think they spent considerable time exploring her relationship with her mother in her childhood, to a similar extent as they did with lily and daisy. i also feel like kiss the sky in particular had so many flashbacks to her high school and college interactions with connor that we probably got more firsthand accounts of coballoway’s pasts than any of the other couples. but yeah lol i can only assume The Slap never came up again because narratively kiss the sky is so much later than ricochet but it’s kind of the same with ryke shunning his mother after lily’s sex addiction leaked and then mentioning that he saw her a few times but never actually delving into what their relationship was like after that?

on another note regarding these two characters: i actually think they are one of if not the most underrated core six friendship! i adore them banding together to protect their friends/family and the idea of them as grumpy friends is so cute to me. the skop chapter where they get lunch and then go to talk to jane’s school together is so superior

edit: i actually did recently make a post about this but one thing i will say is that what we DO know about college ryke is that he was a journalism major and captain of the track team. both of which are facts that make me laugh extensively. i think we can also attribute some weird gaps and inconsistencies to the fact that rose and ryke were never meant to be mains, people just seemed really interested in their stories bad so kbr decided to write the calloway sisters series as well

#rose saying she needs to bring ryke along to cool her temper 💀 as if he wasn’t ready to throw down the principal himself #asks #anonymous #ik this response was so disagreeable but PLEASE i just love talking about this series so never stop sending asks about it. seriously #kbr asks

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thesportssoundoff · 6 years

Text

“The UFC Heads To Charlotte! Please Read? A little?” UFC on Fox: Jacare vs Brunson 2 Preview

Joey

Jan 23rd, 2018

The UFC returns to Fox with.....

I mean.....

Okay so this card isn't all that great. The UFC went all out to end the year and made November and December some big months. This Fox card is sort of a victim of that as well as the usual fact that Jan tends to be a thin month PLUS fighters tend to get hurt when it's cold and they tend to not wanna do a training camp around the holidays and etc etc etc. This show is a rather thin show but hey! I'll convince ya to care it because there are some fights worth keeping an eye on. Y'all ready?

Fights: 11

Debuts: 2 (Cory Sandhagen and Austin Arnett)

Fight Changes/Injury Cancellations: 1 ( Ilir Latifi vs OSP Cancelled)

Headliners (fighters who have either main evented or co-main evented shows in the UFC): 4 (Ronaldo Souza, Derek Brunson, Dennis Bermudez, Randa Markos)

Fighters On Losing Streaks in the UFC: 2 (Bobby Green*, Dennis Bermudez)

Fighters On Winning Streaks in the UFC: 4 (Gregor Gillespie, Derek Brunson, Joaquim Silva, Vinc Pichel)

Main Card Record Since Jan 1st 2016 (in the UFC): 18-10 Jacare Souza- 2-1 Derek Brunson- 4-2 Dennis Bermudez- 2-2 Andre Fili- 2-2 Gregor Gillespie- 3-0 Jordan Rinaldi- 1-1 Drew Dober- 3-1 Frank Camacho- 1-1

Too High Up- Drew Dober vs Frank Camacho

Okay so I feel bad about this because Dober/Camacho might be a fantastic fight. At 170 lbs, Camacho/Dober is one of those needed "THROW HANDS AND DO COOL SHIT!" type fights that you put on a card to guarantee an exciting fight where one dude is down to get finished. The problem is that both guys are sort of just there to be action fighters. Nothing is going to change for the winner or the loser, they'll always exist as mauler brawler types who have fun fights. This is a pretty good fight for action purposes but I just don't see main card on Fox. Sorry fellas.

Too Low- Kaitlyn Chookagian vs Mara Romero Borella

This to me would be a fine main card opener. No, it's not going to be a super action fight but Kaitlyn Chookagian vs Mara Romero Borella would be a solid fight with some divisional relevance. Give me this fight over two dudes swangin' on a main card filled already with dudes swangin'

Stat Monitor for 2018:

Debuting Fighters (Current number: 0-3): Austin Arnett, Cory Sandhagen

Short Notice Fighters (Current number: 1-1): 0

Second Fight (Current number: 1-3): Mara Romero Borella, Yi Jeon Kim

Cage Corrosion (2-4): George Sullivan

Twelve Precarious Ponderings

1- 185 lbs is sort of undergoing a bit of an under the radar renaissance of sorts. Robert Whittaker's emergence as a serious dude to know coincides with a heap of new talents being brought in at the weight class, namely guys like Eryk Anders, Oskar Piechota, Karl Roberson, Julian Marquez as well as the emergence of good fighters hitting their stride like Kelvin Gastelum, Anthony Smith, Gerald Meerschaert, Thiago Santos, Antonio Carlos Junior and Paulo Costa. Even with all of that being said, this is still a division that relies on about 6-10 guys to be headliners. Brunson and Jacare are two of those guys who will always be put into positions like this almost entirely due to what they bring to the table. They're known and in the UFC 185 lb class, they're almost always contenders to some various degree. The point I'm going for is that this could be the last chance for both of these guys because there's a heap of fighters under 30 who seem to be knocking on the door to the top of the division.

2- This is a weird sort of event where one of the guys is the hometown guy but you get the feeling that the other guy is the one they really want to build up. The UFC and Jacare reached an agreement on a new contract the day BEFORE he fought Robert Whittaker and so Jacare probably is earning more money now than he ever has before. He's a popular guy who has headlined in Brazil and could in theory be a continuous headliner in Brazil. He's reputable, fans like him and he's the sort of fighter who always seems to be one fight away from the title picture. It's easy to point out that he's lost to the guys in the interim title fight and got smoked by Whittaker but I wonder how much that matters at this point. It's in Brunson's backyard but I wonder if this is all about getting Jacare back into the title picture.

3- Brunson on paper is a pretty intriguing stylistic matchup for Jacare. It's grappler vs wrestler but Brunson hits hard enough to give Jacare reason to pause and avoid getting reckless. If it stays on the feet, I feel like Jacare is the guy with the more versatile offense compared to Brunson but the power is on Brunson's side. Jacare has been dropped and stunned in fights that extend beyond the first round recently and while he's still pretty quick for 185 lbs, I wonder if he's beginning to morph into one of those "Tough Dads" that makes middleweight such a wacky division.

4- Once upon a time not too long ago, Mirsad Bektic was expected to be in that mix at 145 lbs as a serious title contender. He had earned high praise as a prospect and did little in the UFC to disappoint from that regard even if you had concerns about how little he seemed to strike comfortably on the feet. Bektic's journey to the top was halted by Darren Elkins and if you're a prospect who loses at 135 to 155 lbs, you might as well fall off the face of the Earth. Since the loss to Elkins, Bektic has disappeared and might as well be redebuting at this point. There's so much to like about Mirsad Bektic that you're left to hope that he can recover from that loss even better. He got caught wrestling too much vs Elkins, gassed and then got finished when his wrestling abandoned him so it's not like it's a talent related issue I don't believe. Godofredo Pepey is the opponent and he's the right guy to test Bektic; active off of his back, more flash than substance on the feet, holes in the game that can be exploited and a real lack of wrestling savvy to not get taken down.

5- Speaking of "Once upon a time not too long ago", Dennis Bermudez once racked up a winning streak that featured Clay Guida, Max Holloway and Steven Siler. Since then? Well it hasn't quite been as pretty. Bermudez has always been hittable but he's always recovered well and been able to keep himself in the fight. Ricardo Lamas took advantage of Bermudez's slow starts and hittable nature, hurting him early and subbing him with a guillotine. Bermudez and Jeremy Stephens had a fucking amazing fight that ended with Bermudez being on the wrong end of the last knockdown, getting dropped and stopped by a Stephens flying knee on a sloppy takedown. Since then Bermudez has been more and more skittish as a fighter. He's still aggressive when he needs to be but he wrestles more, strikes less and seems almost cautious to the point of self conservation. He had the Zombie hurt and never stepped back on the gas en route to a stoppage loss and he never seemed to get out of the starting blocks vs Darren Elkins. Dennis Bermudez and Andre Fili are similar like minded talents who have struggled finding any sort of footing in the UFC.

6- Some might call Andre Fili inconsistent but let's be real; Fili has gone W-L-W-L-W-L-W-L-W in the UFC. Seems consistent to me, am I right?

7- Juliana Lima is not a fun fighter to watch compete by any stretch of the imagination BUT her vs Randa Markos is a really intriguing fight. This is a battle of two fighters who could exist on the back end of the 115 lb division and both have lost to the elite of the elites (Tecia Torres, Alexa Grasso, Carla Esparza and Joanna Champion to name a few).

8- Gregor Gillespie is a really intriguing 155 lber who is a bit too old to be a prospect (31) but not proven against top competition to feel like we know what he is in total. Unfortunately he's really not getting a fair step up with Jordan Rinaldi who is kind of a bottom layer of the division. Showcase fight for a big market.

9- Vinc Pichel vs Joaquim Silva is a REALLY good fight that is way too buried on this card. It's opening up the FS1 prelims but it's easily better than a collection of fights swimming around on the card above it. Pichel came back from a lengthy absence to flatten Damien Brown and his hands and wrestling skills make him a pretty intriguing 155er. Joaquim SIlva is a little basic for my tastes but he may be one of the best Brazilian "prospects" around. He's another guy we've seen tested before and he's passed those tests.

10- Bobby Green vs Erik Koch is such a battle between two guys who lose in spite of themselves consistently. I am ALL about this fight.

11- The featherweight division has won FOTN the past two shows to kick off 2018 so let's see if they can keep this going on with three straight shows. Bermudez vs Fili has an awesome shot to do it.

12- Any idea why fans have completely hopped off the Niko Price train? Seems totally weird given how good he was prior to his loss.

Must Wins

1- Derek Brunson

It's in his hometown against the highest ranked opponent he's ever faced. For MOST MMA fans, Brunson will always be the guy who loses to the best guys he faces. Machida could've been a guy you could rely on to turn that reputation around but alas alack. Brunson has improved a bunch since their first fight but has he improved enough to leapfrog Jacare?

2- Dennis Bermudez

Two fight skid, co-main event on Fox, opponent who stylistically matches up well with him. Bermudez needs this one.

3- Niko Price

Price finished Alan Jouban, Brandon Thatch and Alex Morono* to the point where it looked like the ATT product would crack the top 10 or so. Price took a step back vs Vicente Luque on short notice and then EVERYBODY forgot who he is. He's under 30 at 170 lbs with fight finishing instincts, length and pacing. The loss to Vicente Luque feels more like a roadblock and not an indictment of what he is.

Five Can't Miss Fights

1- Dennis Bermudez vs Andre Fili

2- Derek Brunson vs Jacare Souza

3- Gregor Gillespie vs Jordan Rinaldi

4- Bobby Green vs Erik Koch

5- Mirsad Bektic vs Godofredo Pepey

#MMA #UFC #Brunson #Jacare #Gregor #Rinaldi #Koch #Bermudez

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galren · 6 years

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Anfor

Aruk went to a music conservatory for a year when he was a teenager. It was everything he wanted, but also a number of things he didn’t want on top of it.

“You’re late again. We go over this every other week, Aruk. And you smell terrible.”

Three months had passed in the time since Aruk left his family in Yosem to study piano performance at Anfor Conservatory of Music, and though he put his heart and soul into his studies and practice, Aruk had not fully adapted to university life.

“I’m sorry, sir, I was upstairs in a practice room. I’m trying my best, I promise, I just—”

“Fell asleep on the keys again?”

It was the fourth time in as many weeks. As the semester progressed, the practice rooms became less available, and for shorter amounts of time, to a point where Aruk had made it a habit of going to the music building in the middle of the night in order to get his daily practice in. Though he was a night owl in his own ways, Aruk would regularly spend upward of five hours playing the piano only to pass out on they keys just before sunrise.

“...Yes.”

Despite being a solid foot and a half taller than Branford, the elven piano professor, Aruk felt his head recoiling into his own shoulders in shame.

“Well, I can’t stay that I’m terribly upset about it, I suppose,” Branford replied. “You put more practice time in than any of the rest of my students, and it shows, even with those massive hands of yours. Just be sure you get back to your dorm and shower soon, for your own sake. And wash your clothes while you’re at it, I could smell you as you walked in here.”

“I’m sorry. I just don’t...have money for detergent,” Aruk finally admitted. “I’ve tried washing my clothes in the sink at my dorm, but it’s not the greatest.”

“Aren’t you on a full scholarship? Where’s all of your money gone to?”

“The scholarship only covers tuition and housing. I don’t really have anything else, outside of a tiny bit of money for food that my parents sent me, but that’s just so I don’t go more than a few days at a time without eating.”

“Uh...well. Right then. Let’s...let’s get to the Ravel, shall we?”

“Sure.”

It was the first time Branford had asked him about his personal life, and Aruk inwardly hoped it would be the last. He’d been working on the last movement of Ravel’s piano concerto for the duration of the semester, and while he did keep falling asleep in practice rooms, Aruk had made noticeable strides toward perfecting it, outside of a few passages that needed tightening up.

“Well, I think you know what parts you need to work on without me saying, if I’m being honest, Aruk. Work on tightening up the middle section more. I know that’s easier said than done, but that’s what happens when you have to do a condensed version, since you’re not playing it with an orchestra behind you.”

“Ah, yeah...it’s getting there, though?”

“It is, and having said that, I do think that you ought to audition to play it with the orchestra next semester. It would be a good experience for you to do that.”

“Er, well...Edgar is the orchestra pianist, isn’t he?”

“He is right now, but it would still be worth your time to audition, even if you don’t get in.”

“Well, I’ll think about it, I guess. Oh, and uh...next lesson, can I get your help with some of the stuff we’re working on for jazz quartet? There are a few passages that feel weird under my fingers even after practicing them.”

“That’s fine, though as you know my focus is primarily on music from times before jazz, so I don’t know how much I can help you stylistically. Now, I do need you to head out, Edgar has his lesson right now.”

“I understand. See you next week.”

Aruk stepped out of the small office and felt his heart leap into his throat as he rounded the corner ran headlong into Edgar Sherborne, who seemed to be pacing the hallway impatiently. Despite the resting scowl on Edgar’s face, Aruk beamed down at him, his right hand scratching at his left arm subconsciously.

“Oh, hello Edgar! Sorry for holding up your lesson. I heard you practicing yesterday afternoon, the Rachmaninoff sounds very good! I’m sure it’ll be even better by the time you go on for your recital.”

The third-year human was considered to be a prodigy and the best pianist at Anfor, training under famous musician after famous musician before arriving at the conservatory. Edgar, for his part, knew what people said of his skills and reveled in it.

“Yes, it will be flawless by then, that’s a given, Aruk. It sounds like the Ravel is coming along for you as well. Auditions for next semester of orchestra are coming up, by the way. Do you intend on trying to audition to play the Ravel with the orchestra?”

“Er...I hadn’t really given it any thought. Branford just mentioned it to me a minute ago, actually, but I assumed that—”

“That I’ll be doing the Rachmaninoff with the orchestra? I assumed as much as well. Of course, I didn’t expect anyone to challenge my spot in the first place, but given that you’re the number two pianist here, I wanted to know if it was something you were doing, especially since you’re playing an orchestra piece for your jury as well.”

“Oh. Well, I hadn’t really planned to audition, I’ve got the jazz quartet and big band for my ensemble credits this year,” Aruk said. He was vaguely aware of the fact his heart was beginning to race. “I’ll be sure to be there if you perform with the orchestra though! It would be fun to do a double concerto with you, too. Also, if you need a page turner for the concert—”

Aruk stopped talking as the office door closed, when he realized Edgar had walked away for his lesson. Taking a breath to steady his heart, Aruk walked down the hall to head for the small classroom where his jazz quartet met.

“Oh hey, Aruk. Didn’t think you’d actually make it on time, considering how hard you were sleeping in the practice room upstairs this morning.”

The drummer, Norgren, was a stout dwarf who at times could barely reach the kick drum pedal. Nonetheless, he was a skilled drummer, and was one of the more amicable students at the conservatory.

“You coulda woken me up, you know. I was a little late to my piano lesson, but I’m awake now. I’ll be fine for rehearsal.” Aruk sat down at the piano in the corner of the practice room as Norgren set up his drum kit.

“I can’t even see through the practice room windows to know who’s in there at my height, Aruk. Figured it was you though, considering it sounded like snoring. Either way, it’s not my job to keep you on time for things. You’re an adult, do it yourself.”

“That’s…” Aruk began, then stopped with a sigh. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“No big. You should probably wash your clothes too. Out of detergent again or something?”

Again, Aruk felt himself recoiling into his shoulders, even though he towered over the dwarf. “Yeah. I just...I washed some of my clothes by hand last night, but they were still drying when I came here to practice, and I haven’t gone back to my dorm yet.”

Before Norgren could say anything else, Aruk quickly asked, “We’re working on Monk’s Dream today, right? Or did we need to go over Blue Rondo as well?”

Norgren sighed and ran a palm over his face. “It really depends on Alric. I don’t think we need to do Blue Rondo, you have it down just fine and you know that Barrett and I have it covered on the rhythm section, it’s just…”

“He’s pretty inconsistent, yeah,” Aruk said quietly. “When he’s feeling it, he’s right there and it sounds great—”

“But when he’s having an off day, it’s like every note he plays is coming out of a broken oboe instead of a saxophone,” Norgren finished. “Sometimes I really wonder how he got into this place, but I guess his good days make up for his bad ones.”

“Are we talking about Alric?” Barrett asked as he entered the room. The bassist for the quartet, Barrett stood a foot shorter than Aruk, but, like Norgren, the human was more welcoming than most of the people at Anfor. “Because I heard one of his relatives works in the registrar and that’s how he got in here.”

“What, you mean to tell me people get into Anfor because their families have influence? I’m shocked,” Norgren said with a laugh. “At least in my case I know I got in here because I’m good, even if my family does have money.”

“Well, yeah, the only person here who got in solely on their ability to play is Aruk,” Barrett replied. “Even if Edgar is good, his parents are music history teachers here and his aunt works in the registrar, so I’m sure all Edgar had to do was look in the direction of the conservatory doors and the admissions office mailed him an acceptance letter on sight.”

Aruk said nothing, but sat down at the piano, green face flushed with embarrassment.

“I can’t imagine though. How’d you make it through an audition process that long, Aruk? I’d have been dead tired after 6 or 7 hours, but I heard it went for 12 hours on that one day,” Norgren said.

“Er, well...truth be told I didn’t have to do that much,” Aruk said. “I auditioned early in the morning, and then they sent me to a side room to wait for several hours before they called me in and asked me to play again. So, I had plenty of time to rest and eat and go to the bathroom and all that. Then they had three of us in the recital hall on different pianos all at once and they made us perform the audition excerpts from memory in front of people. That was the stressful part, really.”

“Sounds it,” Norgren said. “Still, glad we got you and not just another stuffy classical pianist who needed course credits. Three years at this place and you’re the only one so far who actually wanted to do jazz band instead of being coerced into it.”

“Why’s that?” Aruk asked. “Jazz is fun.”

“Everyone wants to be the concert pianist with the orchestra, but only one person gets the spot, you know,” Barrett said. “So, basically everyone who’s not Edgar gets the shaft, but they still need ensemble credits to graduate, so we get stuck with them.”

“Speaking of that, you gonna audition for it, Aruk?” Norgren asked. “I bet you could get it, if you wanted to.”

“Think so? I kinda figured Edgar would get it whether or not anyone else auditioned. He is really good, after all,” Aruk said. His mind wandered to Edgar and immediately he could feel his heart start to race. “I don’t know if I could outplay him.”

“You could, for sure,” Norgren replied. With a laugh, he added, “That’d suck for us if you got it, though, then we might end up stuck with him as our pianist again, and he hates jazz. Still, I think you oughta give it a try. If nothing else, you might shake him up a bit if he thinks he’s got competition.”

“Well, we’ll see—”

“Hey, sorry I’m late, music history went over again,” Alric said as he walked into the room, unceremoniously setting his two saxophone cases on desks and flipping them open. The elf looked tired and harried, and he shuffled through spare sheet music stuffed inside one of the saxophone cases before pulling out the tenor sax.

“Sounds like Sherborne. You can see where Edgar gets it from,” Barrett said.

“Yeah, their time is important, yours not so much,” Norgren grumbled. “Getting office hours with him was almost impossible when I took his class last year. Anyway, let’s get this ball rolling. Alric, you good for Monk’s Dream, or do we need to go back to Blue Rondo?”

Alric shook his head. “After that class, I need to not be stressed right away. Let’s do Monk’s Dream first, it’s easier for me.”

“You got it,” Norgren said. “Aruk, whenever you’re ready.”

Aruk nodded and started playing, falling into a comfortable groove within a few measures. While he enjoyed the challenge of concert music, jazz quartet and big band rehearsals always put his mind at ease, and after the rehearsal ended he headed back to his dorm feeling less stressed about the rest of how he was handling his first year at Anfor.

When he reached his dorm, he was relieved to find the clothes he’d washed still hanging by the windowsill, completely dry and substantially less smelly than the clothes he’d already worn.

“This place is a bit of a mess,” he muttered to himself as he looked around the room.

He shared the room with a human violinist, but the last time he’d seen his roommate was early on in the semester. Aruk tended to be out all night at the music building, and his roommate was an early morning sort of person, so the only potential overlap they ever encountered was in the afternoon. There were clothes strewn all over the floor, and trash was left on nearly every flat surface that wasn’t one of the two beds in the room.

The room also had a lingering smell of stale weed to it, but Aruk took responsibility for that one, as he’d come to make a habit of smoking in the early afternoon while his roommate was out. Aruk may not have had much by way of money, but being that he was an outlander, he knew how to forage for things, food and weed included.

Aruk folded his clean clothes up and put them in his dresser drawers, mindlessly pulling out a glass pipe and small bag he had hidden in the back of his underwear drawer as he did. He stopped to pack and light up his pipe, then smoked it leisurely as he cleaned up his part of the room, pushing his roommate’s clothes and trash across to the other side of the room.

Once he was done smoking and he was satisfied with how his part of the room looked, Aruk took to the shower to wash off some of the leftover smell from the night before. Aruk was big in every sense of the word, and the dorm shower was built for people smaller than him; despite having to lean down to wash his own head and shoulders, Aruk enjoyed the shower, especially when high. The peace and quiet that came with the privacy felt good. Being able to get naked and not have to worry about it the way he could at home felt good. The sensations of the water splashing onto him and washing down his body felt good.

He stood in the shower for a long while, thoughts wandering from the feeling of the water to the sound of the music he’d played that day, to running into Edgar in the hall, and he spent a long time thinking about Edgar, so long that by the time he finally stopped thinking about Edgar the shower water had started to run cold, and he let out a groan as he came crashing down with the recognition that the water was cold even though his skin felt so warm, his whole body felt so warm, and it all felt good—

A while later, Aruk settled into bed for an early afternoon nap, the faint warmth of his high still lingering on his brain as he pulled the blanket over himself, reveling in the softness of his blanket on his bare skin. After thinking about Edgar some more, and thinking about how the day had transpired, he sleepily decided that he’d audition for the orchestra after all, because after hearing what everyone else had told him, it felt like the right thing to do.

It felt good.

#rockheadwriting #aruk wavesplitter

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justcallmehitgirl · 5 years

Text

Good Woman Part 1 (Peter Parker x Female Reader Smut)

Summary: Peter Parker can be a bit of a peeping Tom.

Warnings: voyeurism, exhibitionism, smut, suit!porn, and language

Word Count: 3200

A/N: I’ve been on a roll lately, and this just happened. Point of view switches between Peter to Y/N so hopefully it’s not too confusing. I don’t condone spying on people, but suspend some reality for this fic please.

(5/7/20): I fixed some typos, grammar mistakes, character inconsistencies, etc. from my original posting. I also made some stylistic changes.

PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN / PART EIGHT / PART NINE / PART TEN / STORY PAGE

He knows he shouldn’t. He feels downright sleazy. He’s the friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man. He’s someone that people admire and look up to. He’s an Avenger. But he’s also a seventeen-year-old hot-blooded male who can’t keep a boner down when a PG-13 sex scene pops up on screen.

It’s a dilemma Peter faces on a cool September night, the crisp air sending a shiver down his spine, as he peers inside your bedroom window. His eyes are fixed on you—lounging on your bed in nothing but an oversized shirt with your smooth legs stretched out in full display. The glow emanating from the TV screen illuminates your face, highlighting your features.

Peter is well-aware of your reputation at Midtown. You’re smart, pretty, and a tease—barely giving any attention to the boys at Midtown. You didn’t date (save for that one short-lived summer fling that became school-wide gossip), you rarely went to parties, and you never stayed out past curfew. You are, and have always been, way out of Peter’s league.

He’s known you since elementary school, silently observing you throughout the years even though you were in the grade above him. You've always been nice and polite to him, though. You always said “excuse me” when you brushed past him in the hallways, and you always gave him a small wave or smile whenever he accidentally made eye contact with you.

Peter has no idea if you even know his name, but he likes to think that you do.

He swears it’s a coincidence that he found your window. He had randomly swung by and landed on your fire escape to take a quick breather after stopping a petty theft down the street. He was about to leave when he spotted you from the corner of his eye, your presence taking him by surprise.

And as usual, Peter couldn’t stop himself from staring.

—

His heart beats rapidly as he stares at you sprawled across your bed—eyes glued to your TV, head propped up by a mountain of pillows. You let out a yawn, face contorting, with your arms stretched out above your head. Your shirt rides up, revealing a pair of black, polkadot panties.

Peter gulps, imagining his hands pushing your shirt up higher to expose more of you.

He swallows hard, knowing that this is an absolute abuse of power. He knows he should leave, but he stays rooted in his spot.

He continues gazing at you until your eyelids begin to droop, body relaxing against your mattress. Your mouth parts slightly while your chest rises and falls evenly.

Peter thinks you look like a princess in a fairy-tale.

He imagines running his fingers through your hair and tracing patterns over your soft, bare skin. He imagines the feel of your plush lips pressed against his while his hands roam over your body.

He frowns and glances away. He knows that it will never happen— girls like you didn’t give guys like him the time of day.

He hangs his head and exhales, quietly cursing himself under his breath. He starts to stand, but he senses movement from inside your bedroom. He crouches back down and cocks his head, eyes flickering with curiosity.

He takes in a sharp breath while his jaw practically drops to the ground. He gapes at you, pupils dilated, as your hand moves down your stomach and grazes the waistband of your underwear. He leans forward, feeling his cock instantly harden underneath his suit. He bites back a groan as he watches with building intensity as your hand disappears beneath the thin, cotton fabric.

Your back arches off the bed—fingers frantically moving over your clit, knuckles straining your underwear. Your body writhes, and you let out a soft whimper. You roll your head to the side, facing him.

He watches your face scrunch up in ecstasy. You bite your bottom lip, and your eyes flutter open.

Peter’s breath catches in his throat; he knows he’s fucked.

—

You blink, eyes adjusting. You immediately pale, eyes widening at the shadowy figure pressed against your window. Your heart lurches in your chest. You quickly rip your hand from your underwear and scramble off the bed. You stand on wobbly legs, bottom lip trembling as fear grips throat.

You step backwards until your body hits the wall, eyes frozen on his form. You cower against the wall and try to will your body to make a run for it. You size him up, taking in every detail even though he was bathed in shadows.

The figure holds his hands up and frantically shakes his head, his movements almost pleading.

You blink once, then twice—just before your eyes go wide with recognition, and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s Spider-Man.

You want to feel relieved. You’re well-aware of his superhero reputation—saving the Academic Decathlon team in D.C. and taking down Liz’s dad. But despite his prior good deeds, you continue to eye him warily. You had no idea who was underneath that mask, and your mind races through the possibilities—from a 30-something-year-old pervert to a deranged psychopath preying on high school girls.

You start to move towards your door—back still pressed up against the wall for support. He presses a hand on the window, almost begging for you to open it. You tilt your head as you start to wonder how long he’s been out there—and how much he saw. You shiver at the thought of him watching you, skin tingling.

You pause at your reaction, and your curiosity begins to gnaw at you.

You know you should run out of the room; maybe call the police or the national news while you’re at it—expose Spider-Man as being a total creep.

But another thought pops into your mind—one that sends a tingle down your spine.

You nibble on your bottom lip. You're known as being such a good girl—always coloring within the lines and following the rules. Your life has been dictated by your professional aspirations. You’ve spent your life carving out a respectable reputation as the responsible daughter, dependable friend, and exemplary student.

But at seventeen, you already felt weighted down by the pressure and expectations.

You seldom take any risks—always choosing the same ice-cream flavor, shopping at the same stores, and sticking to the same hairstyle. You even broke up with your first—and only boyfriend—because he tried to inch you too much out of your comfort-zone.

You suddenly feel a wave of exhaustion. You’re tired of feeling like you’ve been merely ambling through life and not actually living it; tired of being safe—of being just the good girl.

You slowly push yourself off the wall and step forward.

—

Peter knows he should leave, but he feels frozen in place. He watches you slowly pad across the carpet towards him, an unreadable expression on your face. You carefully push the window open, and he braces himself for your wrath—expecting you to yell at him or shoo him away.

But instead, you simply press a finger to your lips. He gawks at you, feeling dumbstruck. You wave your hand, motioning for him to come inside. He gulps and tentatively crawls through your window.

Once he enters, his senses are immediately assaulted by your scent. His eyes dart around the room, quickly taking in his surroundings—from the pink and purple hues covering the walls to your frilly bedsheets.

He looks over at you as you quietly shut the window close behind him. You turn to face him, eyes flickering with and nod towards your bed. He silently obeys, his body stiff as he takes a seat on the soft mattress.

He eyes you warily, almost afraid of what you’ll do next. You sit beside him, your body facing his side with your legs folded underneath you. He turns his head, and watches you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and lick your lips. You scoot closer until your knees are lightly brushing against him, causing him to blush.

You slowly reach over, your fingers lightly grazing his gloved hand before taking it into your own. You splay your hand over his, your eyes fixed on his hand engulfing yours. He merely stares at you as you quietly play with his fabric-covered fingers.

“This is a strange material,” you murmur, eyes cast downward at your entwined hands.

He hesitates before clearing his throat. “It’s durable. . . and tear-resistant. It’s waterproof too.”

You look up, eyes sparkling. “You sound younger than I imagined,” you muse.

“You aren’t scared of me?”

You give him a half-shrug. “No, not really. I just. . . didn’t really think this far ahead.”

“I’m sorry for being a creep,” he blurts.

You shake your head. “Only a little creepy. . . d—do you do this this with a lot of girls?”

He immediately straightens. “I don’t! I—I’ve never done this before.”

“You’ve never been a peeping Tom or you’ve never seen a girl touch herself?” you tease.

He hesitantly mutters, “Both.”

You purse your lips and pause, cheeks turning pink. You tilt your head. “Are you a virgin?”

Peter bites the inside of his cheek and looks away. He quickly ponders whether he should tell you the truth. As Spider-Man, he can say anything he wants—be whoever he wants.

He looks back up and opens his mouth, but your doe-eyed look gives him pause. He merely nods in response.

“Me too,” you breathe. “It’s not a religious thing or anything like that. I just haven’t found the right person to do it with.”

You look down and continue playing with his fingers, twisting and entwining them with yours.

“I feel pretty silly right now,” you whisper. “You probably thought I was some experienced sex goddess or something when I invited you inside. Instead I’m just pathetic and lonely.”

He frowns. “Hey, don’t say that. You’re amazing.”

You look up, brows raised. “How would you know that? You don’t even know my name.”

Peter flinches, inwardly scolding himself. “I mean, you seem very. . . put together,” he mumbles.

Your mouth twitches before you let out a soft giggle. “Inviting a stranger into my bedroom is the exact opposite of being put together, don’t you think?”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles lightly.

Your eyes roam over his covered face, smile fading as your eyes burn with curiosity. “Do we know each other?”

Peter stiffens, jaw tight. You look at him inquisitively, waiting for an answer. He knows he should tell you the truth—ripe it off like a band-aid. But instead he just frowns and shakes his head.

Silence fills the room again.

“I wish I could kiss you,” you blurt.

He tenses.

“Oh my god,” you groan. “I’m sorry. . . just forget I said that.”

Peter quickly breathes, “Okay.”

Your eyes widen. “R—really?”

He lets go of your hand and clutches the bottom of his mask. He hesitates slightly before lifting it up right underneath his nose, revealing his jaw and lips.

You gulp. “You have very nice lips.”

He gives you a crooked smile. “No girl has ever said that to me before.”

“Well I guess tonight is a bunch of firsts for both of us.”

He nods in agreement.

“I—I’m going to kiss you now,” you announce. It sounds more for yourself than for him, he muses.

“Okay,” he murmurs.

Your hand cups his cheek, your breath softly caressing his exposed skin. You lean towards him and tilt your head. His heart pounds as your mouth hovers over his.

Peter feels a surge of confidence and closes the space between you, pressing his lips to yours. He closes his eyes, feeling electricity move through his veins as he kisses you. He’s never felt more alive.

Your soft lips kiss him back, and you slide your hand to his neck to tug him closer. He pours everything he has been feeling for so many years into the kiss. He wishes he could tell you how long he’s been wanting to do this.

He pulls back and smiles brightly. “Wow,” he breathes.

Your eyes flutter open, pupils flared. Without hesitation, you surge forward and kiss him with so much fervor and passion that that he thinks he’s going to pass out. Your tongue traces the seam of his mouth, and he parts his lips to welcome your probing tongue.

Peter pulls back and trails wet kisses down your chin to your neck. You tip your head back and moan. He grips your waist and swiftly lifts you up onto his lap. You settle on him.

“Oh,” you cry.

Your face flushes, and you take your bottom lip between your teeth, his hard bulge pressing against you—separated by his suit and your panties. You grab his shoulders, anchoring yourself as you begin to move over him, movements slow and tentative.

He splays a hand on your back while his other hand tentatively plays with the edge of your shirt. He pushes it up, and you gasp as his gloved hand touches your bare stomach.

“Is this okay?” he breathes against your neck. “Should I stop?”

You place your hands on his chest, and he lifts his head up. You grab the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head in one fluid motion. He leans back, mouth falling open while his eyes hungrily drink in the sight of your bare chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” he blurts.

You bite at your bottom lip and blush. He reaches to brush a knuckle just under the swell of your breast. Your body trembles slightly as your lashes flutter. He licks his lips, sliding his hand over your skin and smoothing his thumb over your nipple. He cups your breast and squeezes softly while an airy gasp tumbles out of your mouth.

He leans forward and swipes his tongue over your other breast, lips closing around your nipple. You whimper as he sucks it softly into his mouth while he tweaks the other between his fingers. He licks at your skin, and you let out a breathy whine.

“P-please touch me,” you beg, sliding his hand down towards your pussy.

He eagerly pushes your soaked underwear, dragging his fingers over your damp folds. He lets out a strangled groan, his mouth watering as your slick coats his fingers.

“I didn’t know it could be this wet,” he says in awe.

He slides his fingers up and down your slit until his thumb finds your clit. He presses on it, and you let out a soft sigh.

“There?” he asks, and you fervently nod.

He starts rubbing your clit in steady strokes, eyes glued on your face as he studies your reactions—making adjustments to the pressure and direction depending on your expression. Soft moans fill the air as you continue grinding on his covered cock, your movements increasing with need. You claw at his shoulders, your breathing growing more and more restless.

“I—I’m almost there,” you pant.

He circles his thumb faster over your clit, and you start to tremble. You bury your face in the crook of his neck to muffle your cries as you tip over the edge. Your body spasms relentlessly, legs quaking.

You shudder in his arms and breathe heavily. He presses kisses on your naked shoulders and pulls his hand away from your clit. He holds you close as you come down, wilting in his arms.

“Was that good?” he whispers.

You lift your head up and look at him, eyes half-lidded. “You did amazing.”

His mouth curves in a wide smile. He reaches gently caresses your cheek. “I can’t believe you’re even real.”

You rub his jaw affectionately. “I feel like I know you from somewhere,” you murmur.

Peter swallows, smile faltering for a moment. He quickly forces a small chuckle. “Of course you do. I’m your friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man.”

You roll your eyes and snort, “Right."

He presses his lips against yours, the kiss soft and slow. He pulls away and glances at the clock on your nightstand. “Shit,” he frowns. “I have to go.”

You draw your lower lip between your teeth and nod. You lift yourself up off his lap, taking a step back to bend down and grab your discarded shirt. You slip it over your head and toss your hair over the collar. He rises from the bed and tugs his mask down over the rest of his face. You fiddle with the hem of your shirt as you follow him to your window.

“Will you come back?” you blurt, pursing your lips.

He faces you, cocking his head. “Y—you want me to?”

You bat your lashes and nod enthusiastically in response.

“Then I will,” he says softly. He crawls out the window, feet landing on the fire escape.

“Hey Spidey!” you call out, and he whirls around. “Knock next time, okay?” you wink, eyes sparkling.

He chuckles softly and nods before turning to disappear into the night.

—

Back in his bedroom, Peter lies in his bed, his arm folded underneath his head as he stares up at the ceiling. He smiles to himself, body buzzing with excitement, thinking about the next time he’ll see you. He lifts his hand up and eyes it closely. He chews on his bottom lip, basking in the memory of all the things that his hands did with you—to you.

He may be Spider-Man, but he knows tonight was all Peter Parker. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might not be totally out of your league after all.

4K notes · View notes

saladejin · 4 years

Text

Call An Uber? | 05

BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader | Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut

Summary: Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right? What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.

Warnings: Mild swearing

Word Count: 4k

< masterpost >

A/N: Hey there tumblr readers! This story might not seem all that angsty or plot-heavy in these first few chapters, but I promise it builds into it. I apologise for all the slow burn, I just can’t help myself ^^;

»»————- <<prev | next >> ————-««

Getting home after the calming car ride seemed a tad anti-climactic. Weariness from the day piled high onto my shoulders, and as I threw my bag into the corner of my bedroom, I all but flopped onto the bed unceremoniously.

The small apartment wasn’t much, but it was enough to sustain me. The landlord was polite at least, and the rent was luckily just within my budget for now. It consisted of a small kitchen and a cosy living room all in one tiny, yet open space. A door led into the one and only bedroom of the apartment, which was also lacking in spaciousness, but it wasn’t as if anyone else was living here. All in all, it was adequate despite not really being something I was used to.

Laying silently on the bed allowed my thoughts and memories from the day to shroud my mind. I remembered how helpless and overwhelmed I’d been feeling when escaping into the carpark of the building, and how my responsibilities had come crashing through like swelling waves of inky ocean water.

Feeling lost was one way to describe that moment, but Yoongi had consoled me to a point where I felt stable and supported. Even if he didn’t mean to show it directly, of which I wasn’t so sure, his way of letting me know he cared hadn’t been lost on me. I was usually good at noticing these things, so it was surprising to see that he wanted to show the gentle side of him tonight. I guess I really was finding out how these boys lived. I was seeing their thought processes with my own very eyes, something vital that was missing in my connection with them before.

Things were happening quickly, but I was ready to let them happen with welcoming, open arms. I was going to absolutely thrive in this new lifestyle, so why let stress weigh me down like a pile of bricks? I just wouldn’t let it.

Rolling over to smooth down the pale bedsheets with my fingers, I couldn’t help but let my mind drift to the sharp eyes of Yoongi, the dazzling smile of Jimin, Namjoon’s dimples…and just all seven of them. I needed to let them know how their fans felt, and I needed them to let me know if they had any doubts about their popularity and future. This could be one of my purposes, and a goal combined with many, many ARMYs. If I had the chance to console them, just like Yoongi had with me, then I would jump at the opportunity with no malignant intentions. I only wanted to help them and share with them the happiness they had given me throughout the years. To groove out their misgivings and straying negativity that allowed unnecessary stress and anxiety to build.

This was my purpose.

The days scorched hotter and hotter, meaning another short meeting for us at the firm. Nobody wanted to stay inside a sticky office filled with the sounds of stuttering air conditioners and electric fans, so Bang PD let everyone go home earlier than usual. When I say earlier, I mean mid-afternoon anyway, so it’s not like it’s actually early.

I’d finally started out with my new job, and so far things had gone swimmingly. The staff were continuously friendly, and the workload was nothing too devastating. Since the company had been a little short on multilingual interpreters, the amount of language related jobs had been growing over time. I could have been overwhelmed, but instead it was somehow smooth sailing from the get-go.

Things were going splendidly, but I wondered about what was going to happen with my Uber job. Would I just stop? It wasn’t like I needed the money from it now, so what would even be the point of it? Meeting new people from all cultures and backgrounds wouldn’t even be an issue at all. Maybe, just maybe the idea of giving up my job as a glorified taxi driver was an imminent one.

The office had been bustling today, but I knew it was because everyone was focused on preparing for the upcoming BTS concert. One of the company’s translators held out some papers from where he sat in his wheeling chair. “(Y/n)-ssi, could you please drop these down to the stylists? I translated the articles like they asked, so they’ll want to have a look as soon as possible.”

“Of course. I was about to bring them some coffee anyway. They’ve been working tirelessly,” I smiled at him and grasped the papers. It seemed the marketing management had wanted select articles about their fashion sense, hair styling and makeup to be translated from various languages.

I scurried to the kitchen area where I’d already started on the coffees. Someone had graciously told me how most of the stylists liked their drinks, and I knew they would need it after how much they had been testing makeup supplies and hair products downstairs. I shuddered at the thought of having my fingers sticking together from the amount of hairspray circulating the room.

The basement was pretty much where everything happened. Practices, auditions, coaching etc. You name it. After dropping off the notes and coffees, I was showered with gratitude from the stylists and was shocked to see just how tired and worn-down they were. The thought that something big was about to happen caused excitement to curl deep within the pit of my stomach.

Maybe there’ll be new hair colours soon?

“No worries, make sure you get some rest!” I reminded them before letting the door to the changing room click shut.

I was right about the hairspray thing, it was seriously suffocating in there. At least they had some air vents open for ventilation, but I felt bad for those kind-hearted men and women. They would most likely be staying there way into the hours of the night too.

I began to walk back towards the elevator, but my eyes were caught by a bright light flooding from one of the main practice areas. One of the doors had been left wide open, and I glanced inside to see a very expansive room enclosed by pure white walls. The floor was made up of tawny brown floorboards, or maybe vinyl, I wasn’t quite sure. I think it had only recently been renovated.

“(Y/n)? Hello!” a clear and high-pitched voice made me jump in my skin. I looked further into the room to spot Jimin resting in one of the black, wheeling chairs of the studio area. His fading blonde locks had been swept back completely, and I could tell he was tired and sweaty from practicing.

To his left was Hoseok, who seemed distracted until Jimin’s exclamation, and the last person in the room was none other than a certain Kim Taehyung. As soon as the youngest of the three found out I was hiding in the doorframe, his eyes blew wide.

“Hey Jimin, Hoseok-ssi and Taehyung-ssi,” I bowed, as was the custom, and made my way into the room. You really had to spin around to take everything in, it was incredibly large for a practice studio.

I turned when I heard footsteps and was greeted by a very bright and bubbly Taehyung.

“(Y/n)? Ah, it’s so great to meet you finally!” He bowed also and I instinctively reached out to shake his hand, smiling once he brought both of his warmer ones together around my own.

They’re so big, what the hell.

Ripping my line of sight away from his long fingers, I glanced behind him to see Hoseok making his way forward too. “Hey there! I’m also glad to meet you (Y/n).”

I exchanged similar greetings with the fiery red-head, but stepped back when Jimin intervened with a low-pitched whine.

“No, no.” He ran forward and grasped his two bandmate's shirts gently to pull them away. “Don’t crowd her, we’re all smelly from practice!”

His disgusted expression made me grin again, and I shook my head. “Don’t worry about that, a little sweat won’t kill me.”

Hoseok laughed while playfully batting away Jimin’s hands. “Sorry about that, we are kind of gross right now.” He started airing out his shirt rapidly while strolling over to where three water bottles rested along the wall. I noticed that they were the only people in the room and puzzled over the thought. they were usually here with a manager or something, weren’t they?

“What were you guys practicing? And where are the others?” I queried, and watched as Taehyung flashed me a boxy grin. Jimin just groaned and ran his fingers through his hair yet again.

“We’re practicing for the concert, but I only came a couple of hours ago, the others are just at home I think,” Taehyung explained, patting Jimin’s back heartily. “Jiminie and Hoseokie-hyung have been here all day. They’re so fit!”

I glanced over at the two dancers as Hoseok jumped over to tickle Tae lovingly, Jimin just smiled at their loud antics. I was beyond surprised, as none of the members even seemed too tired. They were simply out of breath despite the sheer amount of exercise they’d undergone.

“That’s amazing! You all have so much energy to be able to practice so much.” I earned all of their attentive gazes, Hoseok instantly gracing me with his own beaming smile.

“Thanks! We’re just having a little break, but we’ll start again soon. Would you like to watch?”

My heart almost leapt out of my chest at the thought.

“Would I? Of course I’d love to watch you guys dance.” I clapped my hands together in excitement, eyes bright and shining with an uncontrolled delight. This made Taehyung reach forward with both hands to make a 'flower' under my flushing face.

“How cute!” He cooed, and Jimin pulled him away again. An eye-smile was stretching across the shorter boy's face in the most endearing way possible. Hoseok laughed, following with a “very cute, very cute” and ran off to start the music again.

All three of them were in light clothing, but Hoseok was wearing a white short-sleeved t-shirt while the other two adorned button-ups varying in style. All three wore long black Puma pants, most likely because of the ambassadorship they were part of.

“Ah, I don’t want to mess up in front of (Y/n),” Jimin tilted his head and looked at me with a somewhat pained expression. When I raised my eyebrows at him, he pouted and shook his hair out of his downcast eyes. I felt like I needed to step in.

“Jiminie, you’re an amazing dancer, you’d even make messing up look good. Plus, it’s only practice.”

“Yeah Jimin-ah, she won’t mind,” Hoseok helped me out and as the music started blaring from the speakers again, the rapper jogged over to jab Jimin teasingly in the side.

From the words of encouragement, Jimin brightened and smiled in my direction again before joining the others with a serious glint in his eye. I sat against one of the pristinely white walls to watch the action unfold before me, knowing I was about to witness something magnificent. Taehyung started moving his hands and bobbing his body to the beat in that hilarious way he usually did in mock dance practices, and I couldn’t help but snort in amusement.

“Oh, Taehyung is improving! It must be because we have a lady in the room,” Hoseok teased and shook his head, breaking out into chuckles when Tae moved to hit his shoulder in protest. His bashful smile switched focus to me, and I nodded my head in approval.

“I'm loving the skills though.”

Suddenly, the starting track for ‘Fire’ began rumbling loudly through the speakers, and my ears perked in recognition. Was I actually going to see this performed in front of me? I knew this dance all too well from the countless videos I’d seen.

“Are you guys ready?” Hoseok hollered into the open space, and I watched them line up a few metres back from the large mirror. They must’ve been planning to perform this at the upcoming concert, but I wasn’t sure why they needed so much practice seeing as they literally performed it at most live events.

I suddenly threw my cardigan across the room and jump to my feet, rolling up my sleeves in determination. I didn’t even care if they thought I was the strangest person in the world right now, because this was ‘Fire’. “I’m so joining in!”

As the first ‘bultaoruene’ resonated against the pale walls, I ran into the middle of the room and launched straight into the first part of the dance. Despite wanting to come across as serious, I couldn’t keep a cool and collected demeanour and opted instead to laugh loudly. The others were no different, and as my arms started moving wildly, Jimin fell to the floor in a breathless wreck. Hoseok exaggerated his surprise by cupping his hands around his mouth and cheering me onwards while Taehyung mimicked him with his own loud whoops. All three ended up on the ground as I continued to dance, biting my lip to feign seriousness.

I didn’t try to replicate their dancing, as I knew I couldn’t reach their level, but I still shook my hands rapidly and squeezed impassioned eyes to parody something that resembled it. The music stopped, and I fell to the vinyl floor as well, my breathing shortened due to how much I was cackling. Hoseok had stumbled over to pause the track, and I could hear him suffering just as I was.

“Oh my-Oh my God that was great. Did you learn the whole thing?” he gasped out, making his way back over to where I was sitting with my head pressed into the cold floor. My whole body was shaking and erupting with shamed giggles, and when I rolled over, I hid my face in my hands to stop the embarrassment from showing.

“I’ve seen it too many times to not dance to it.”

“I was not expecting that, you have to dance with us, I’m begging you.” Taehyung ran over, his deeply toned sentence breaking up into various airy chuckles. Jimin was the last to get to his feet, but his face was completely reddened and his hair was even messier than before.

“We’ll teach you the rest. I think we’ve practiced the actual dances enough for today, don’t you think hyung?”

Hoseok exhaled loudly, his eyes crinkling with his smile after regaining his composure.

“Yes, you’re right. And the newest member of the dance line needs some instruction.”

I was still on the floor, but at the agile dancer’s statement I fell over again. Taehyung and Jimin both smiled at the sight of my pained expression.

“Guys, I wouldn’t be able to dance the whole thing properly, let alone with phenomenal dancers like you right there.”

“Thank you for the compliment, but you are going to learn this. No buts.” Taehyung held out a helping hand, and I grasped it to help me get back on my feet. I then turned to Hoseok.

“Okay sonsaeng-nim, where do I start?”

All three boys laughed again, and Hoseok straightened himself, puffing out his chest to seem scholarly. Taehyung pointed towards him with a grin that only widened.

“Hobi-hyung is literally everyone’s dance teacher, he’ll make sure you get it perfect.”

At this, the greyish-brown haired boy rushed to line up beside me and looked sideways expectantly. Jimin , but chose not to line up. I nudged Taehyung into a straighter position with my elbow as Hoseok began pacing in front of us, massaging his chin with two fingers thoughtfully. He lowered his voice to sound gruff and strict, and I had to blow out my cheeks to keep it in.

“First lesson of the day, the chorus choreo.”

“Yes, teacher,” Taehyung and I recited in unison as if being scolded. Jimin nearly fell over again until Hoseok waved his hand dismissively and the whole act was dropped. I fell into the boy beside me, suddenly embarrassed once more, but not being able to contain myself any longer. Taehyung patted my shoulder comfortingly while stifling his own noises.

“Honestly, we weren’t joking about you learning the dance though,” Hoseok started and meandered over to grasp both my forearms, tugging on them to lead me forwards. I groaned and sent a look that screamed ‘help’ towards Jimin and Taehyung, but they both just snorted.

I internally cursed Jimin for betraying me like this. I’d thought he was my friend.

“Jimin-ah, Taehyung-ah, you’re going to help too.” Hoseok beckoned them over, and I could only grumble in more complaint.

“Okay, just get Jimin to show me some steps and I’ll see if I can do it properly.” I straightened my arms, which were still being pulled by Hoseok, and tapped my feet a couple of times to get ready. The red-haired dancer eventually dropped his hold, but looked down at his hands as if he’d touched something strange and foreign.

Jimin nodded at my request, and I paid close attention as he lined up in front of the mirror and ran through the starting choreography to the chorus. As both he and Hoseok showed me a slowed down version, I managed to get it all memorised. Taehyung clapped his hands to congratulate me, but his face fell when the phone in his pocket started buzzing incessantly.

“Sorry guys, it’s my turn to help Jin-hyung with dinner tonight. I have to go,” Taehyung fake sobbed, and I watched as Jimin went along with it to hug him comfortingly. Hoseok pretended to cry as well, and I couldn’t help but think this whole scene looked like he was about to be sacrificed to the Devil or something.

“Bye (Y/n), I hope I’ll see you soon,” The lively boy called as everything returned back to normal, and I couldn’t help but revel in the easy-going atmosphere surrounding me suddenly. I hadn't even met two of these people yet, but somehow I'd managed to skip past all the initial awkwardness of first meetings.

“Of course, definitely soon!” I vowed, and the singer left while grabbing one of the sports bags that rested by the door, continuing to walk backwards and wave rapidly. He was just too cute, and the way his eyes glimmered with hope just before he left was etched deeply into my mind. Even long after he was gone.

“We’re fine to teach you something, before we have to go anyway,” Hoseok turned back to us, and I almost face-palmed at the thought.

“Please don’t waste your time, I don’t even have a dancer’s body,” I spoke, my voice drawling out in protest.

“(Y/n) you do! Even if you were playing around before, you could still dance,” Jimin fought my statement, and I scoffed at his widened eyes. He was seriously against people belittling themselves.

“Plus, everyone gets better with practice,” Hoseok joined in, nodding his head cutely as he slammed his hands onto his hips. Jimin ran through the dance again, and I sewed their teachings together to try and copy him. I was shorter and had a different body shape to both dancers, but it wasn’t too difficult to try and alter the moves to accommodate for that. It was safe to say I actually ended up pretty proud of the outcome.

“I just don’t like how I can’t flow properly when I come up from the first move,” I grunted, trying out the steps again. Jimin hummed considerately before moving to stand behind me.

“Move your hands super quickly, and maybe keep this arm up so it’s easier.” He lightly grasped one of my forearms while I stayed frozen in position, and I actually saw in the mirror how it could help me. I was very much aware of how gentle his touch had been and how close his body was to mine. It didn’t help my racing thoughts when his warm puffs of breath made the hairs on the back of my neck tingle.

“And since you have to move your feet soon after, maybe don’t put so much weight on them beforehand,” Hoseok chipped in, and moved my other arm down so I could focus on my feet this time around. He’d been firmer than Jimin with his touch, but the singular fact that both of them had touched my arms in the span of a minute was enough to leave me breathless. I followed his instruction and gulped when the dancer’s lips quirked up into a knowing smirk.

The fucker knows what he’s doing.

“See, speed it up and try it now!” Hoseok bounced to get on my other side while Jimin stood and watched his partner offer his own extra tips. I found out just how useful a wall-sized mirror was when learning to dance, and when complimented by Hoseok’s timely sound effects, it wasn’t hard to get down the moves.

“Pa, pa and... boom! See, you have it. You’re a natural.” Hoseok reached up to exchange a sharp high-five, and I complied before covering my face again. This was almost too embarrassing. I just knew how badly my cheeks were flaring with flames of blazing pink.

“See hyung, I told you she was cute when she blushed.” One of Jimin’s fingers came to poke my cheek, just like he had done that one time in the car.

I reeled away from him. “Ah, don’t tease me, how rude!”

Hoseok and Jimin chuckled, and I heard the older dancer agree with my words in another fresh bout of mockery. “She’s right Jiminie, don’t embarrass her too much or she might just faint because of you.”

I growled, and they both stifled their laughing.

“As if I would faint, it’s not like I’ve never received a compliment before.”

“Ooh, cocky.” Hoseok tilted his head back and I smiled as both boys shook their heads at each other with crossed arms.

“Hey!” I pushed both of them away using their broad chests, scrunching my face up. Knowing it wasn’t convincing in the slightest, I inwardly cursed my continuous failure to hide emotions.

“But seriously, she has that natural aegyo,” Hoseok pointed out with wide eyes. Jimin’s jaw slackened in surprise before he agreed wholeheartedly.

“I’m leaving, before my face burns clean off,” I then announced, pointing an accusing finger at the two chuckling dancers who were making their way over to gather their belongings and drink bottles.

“Remind me to never be alone with you two again.”

“But (Y/n) …” Jimin licked his lips and smiled sweetly. “We’re not making any promises.”

The duality of this man truly scared me.

“Whatever, I should actually get going though,” I noted forlornly, not continuing to joke even though I really wished to do nothing but. The boys both nodded with their spirits also seeming to dampen slightly, but Hoseok lifted his head to smile with that signature sun-like glow of his.

“It was really fun to dance with you, please consider learning with us again (Y/n).”

“It sounds like you’re trying to sell me something, but sure I’ll think about it.”

Jimin erupted into giggles and slapped his elder on the shoulder before curling into him, just like he usually did when he laughed really hard. Hoseok merely pressed his lips together and tilted his head to seem hurt.

“Please do,” he agreed in a broken whisper, but I steeled my throat from letting anything close to laughter escape its clutches. I would be here for way too long if I couldn’t control myself.

“Okay bye!” I shout, listening to their farewells before ducking out into the chilled hallway.

Time had seriously flown by, and I remembered that I would have been home hours ago if I hadn’t been so severely side-tracked. I sighed with weariness as I finally made my way towards the steel doors of the elevator, listlessly passing a trashcan full of several empty coffee cups.

tagged: @l4life, @joyful-jimin

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