#and i have actually not gotten to amour eternal yet

[reixtsu]

Reixtsu- Dialogue Prompts Part 1

This is my list of dialogue prompts for any future requests! Feel free to use some of these with credit!

Part 2: here

"Ah. As expected. I don't like your smell. I've always been disgusted by the odor of others. Yet I'm fine with the odor of yours."

"I might as well take you away so that way we can live in comfort."

"But…we're married?" "Not behind closed doors."

"Dumbass. Don't you see that I'm trying?"

"This is real life! You don't get to restart when you make a mistake!"

"Sure sure. I'm assuming blowing up the building was an accident too."

"You have the audacity to wake me up and not actually die."

"That's because of my complete and utter failure of being a well-mannered functioning member of society."

"Looks like I'm going to liar's jail."

"The horny people shouldn't go to jail with other horny people."

"You were just an experiment."

"If you want to see explosions, you're talking to the wrong person."

"Please! I don't have a kid!" "Why would I care if you've reproduced?"

"This is why we can't have nice things."

"I have nightmares all the time, so I stay awake."

"Oh my darling. What a mess you've made out of me."

"I count my gain in blood and pain."

"Nothing was nice, but I lived every minute."

"I accept you and I don't even know your reasons."

"You've gotten yourself into quite the mess. Aren't I enough trouble for you, darling?"

"How long have you been standing there?" "Longer than you'd like."

"I don't know what my plans are, but I'm pretty sure it didn't include a migraine like you."

"Shrouded in mystery and ready to die- I knew we were destined partners."

"You know…that's not what an apology sounds like." "Bite me."

"This is not the time for you to be questioning my career choices."

"Can you not talk about ____ the same way you talk about ____?"

"If you were a pokemon, I'd choose you."

"Is your ego really that big?"

"Add me, subject him, multiply your feeling and divide love."

"You're the only fangirl I'd date."

“The masculine urge to not act past 18.”

“Your lips look lonely. Would they like to meet mine?”

“I wanna be spoiled by an older woman.”

“You’re like snow. Beautiful but cold.”

“He immediately wants to go home.”

“Are you guys in heat or something?”

“What the hell? A slut appeared out of nowhere!”

“Your voice is my favorite sound.”

“That info was hella unnecessary.” 

“I don't feel like associating myself with your cheap drama.”

“He really is the biggest piece of shit there ever was. It turns me on a tad.”

“You must be an expert in geometry, because you've got all the right angles.”

“If you were a structure, you'd be a masterpiece of modern art.”

“Are you a blueprint? Because you've got my plans all laid out.

“I must be a sketch, because I can't seem to erase you from my mind.”

“I'm not a photographer, but I can definitely picture us together.”

“If you were a hypothesis, you'd be the one I'd want to test endlessly.”

“I must be an open book because your intuitive mind seems to read me effortlessly.”

“Are you a puzzle? Because you make my complex thoughts fit together perfectly.”

“If life were a theory, you'd be my favorite variable to explore.”

“In the grand symphony of life, meeting you was the sweetest note.”

“Your love is the poetry my heart has been trying to write.”

“If love were a canvas, every moment with you would be a stroke of pure art.”

“In the dance of time, you are the graceful waltz that makes every step meaningful.”

“You're not just my sunshine; you're the warmth that colors my entire world.”

“Mon amour, tu es la lumière de ma vie. (My love, you are the light of my life.)”

“Dans tes yeux, je trouve le ciel étoilé. (In your eyes, I find the starry sky.)”

“Ton sourire illumine même les jours les plus sombres. (Your smile brightens even the darkest days.)”

“Mon cœur bat au rythme de ta voix. (My heart beats to the rhythm of your voice.)”

“À tes côtés, chaque moment est une éternité. (By your side, every moment is an eternity.)”

“あなたは私の心の花です。 (Anata wa watashi no kokoro no hana desu.) Translation: You are the flower in my heart.”

“あなたと一緒にいると、時間が止まったような気分です。 (Anata to issho ni iru to, jikan ga tomatta youna kibun desu.) Translation: When I'm with you, it feels like time stands still.”

“あなたの微笑みは、私の一日を輝かせます。 (Anata no hohoemi wa, watashi no ichinichi o kagayakasemasu.) Translation: Your smile brightens up my day.”

“あなたと過ごす時間は、宝物のようです。 (Anata to sugosu jikan wa, takaramono no you desu.) Translation: The time spent with you feels like a treasure.”

“あなたの愛が私を幸せにします。 (Anata no ai ga watashi o shiawase ni shimasu.) Translation: Your love makes me happy.”

“有你的陪伴，时间变得如此美好。 (Yǒu nǐ de péibàn, shíjiān biàn dé rúcǐ měihǎo.) Translation: With you by my side, time becomes so beautiful.”

“你的微笑如阳光般温暖。 (Nǐ de wēixiào rú yángguāng bān wēnnuǎn.) Translation: Your smile is as warm as sunshine.”

“和你在一起的时光是我最珍贵的宝藏。 (Hé nǐ zài yīqǐ de shíguāng shì wǒ zuì zhēnguì de bǎozàng.) Translation: The time spent with you is my most precious treasure.”

“If beauty were time, you'd be an eternity of mischief.”

“Is it hot in here, or is that just the effect you have on me?”

“I must be a snowflake, because I've fallen for you, and I'm one-of-a-kind.”

“Are you a map? Because I keep getting lost in your eyes.”

“If laughter is the best medicine, your smile must be a prescription.”

“Your laughter is like a melody I could listen to all day.”

“There's something about the way you look at me that makes my heart race.”

“BARKBARKBARKBARKAHSJCIKKKAHHHHAHHAMEOWAJCNNABB”  “You need medical attention.”

“Your presence alone is enough to brighten my day.”

“The way you carry yourself is incredibly captivating.”

“I love the way your mind works – it's as intriguing as it is attractive.”

“Your confidence is magnetic; I can't help but be drawn to it.”

“The way you express yourself is a unique kind of beautiful.”

“I find myself smiling whenever I think of you.”

“There's a certain charm in the way you make even ordinary moments extraordinary.”

“Your intelligence is not only impressive but incredibly appealing.”

“I appreciate how you always manage to make the mundane feel extraordinary.”

“Your passion for [insert interest or hobby] is incredibly attractive.”

“I love the way you carry yourself with a perfect blend of confidence and humility.”

[rin-the-shadow]

Crystal Tokyo Challenge: Day 1

Day 1: Your favorite adaptation of Sailor Moon.

This is usually my knee-jerk reaction to being asked to decide on my favorite Sailor Moon adaptation:

Particularly because I began participating in the fandom around a time that it felt like you were either a “good” Sailor Moon fan who preferred the “right” versions and shipped the “right” ships, or else you were a bad fan suffering from nostalgia for whatever your preferred adaptation was. And which one you were depended on who you were asking. 

My ultimate favorite “adaptation” is probably something of a patchwork of all the different versions. There are things I enjoy from all of them, and things I dislike from all of them as well. And some that I enjoy in one version which I disliked when another version did the same thing.

It may be predictable for people who have read some of my other posts, but I definitely have a strong tendency to gravitate towards the musicals even when I intend to watch/read a different version, especially Saturn Fukkatsu Hen (even though some of the jokes have definitely not aged well) and Eien Densetsu (original and revision), and, most recently, La Reconquista and Petite Etrangere. And I think a big part of this is that, even when they seem to start off more manga-based or more anime-based, they tend to wind up doing their own thing.

Actually, I really like PGSM for that same reason, and the only reason the musicals hedge it out by a very, very slight margin is because of the music and the theater tech/staging elements. And because PGSM doesn’t have the lights come up on Rubeus doing situps in the middle of the stage for no reason.

In spite of that slight preference, if you’re asking about the story and characters themselves, then I would put them on equal footing for similar reasons: love what they did with the characters, what they did with the stories, and the other stuff they added to it as well. (Though Sailor Mercury being my favorite, these versions’ tendencies to emphasize her probably doesn’t hurt, either.)

These two iterations are also the ones which encouraged me to mix and match canons in creating my own AU’s and headcanons, instead of trying to be completely faithful to one version or other. Though I’ll try not to get too into that until I get to that prompt.

So yeah, I would say that probably my favorite adaptations are Seramyu, with PGSM as a very very very close second.

[exhaustedfander]

Okay uhhh I‘m not good at giving requests. How about prinxiety and them seeing each other again after a long time! Or sth like that.😅

I had three sperate ideas for this one, but this is the one I settled on. Here’s a fluffy little human au. I’d love to hear what you think! 

a03 link

materpost link

word count: 1,638

The Best Gift

Virgil rocks on his heels, glancing at his phone. According to Roman’s text, his plane landed about fifteen minutes ago. He’d be outside to greet him any moment now, and that in itself fills Virgil with more joy than he’d felt in a while.

Roman does what he could to avoid performing in shows too far away from home. He’s always scouring for gigs in the area, or at least not too terribly far away, not exactly eager to spend long periods away from his emo nightmare. However, sometimes there are roles that Roman can’t shy away from, as much as he hates the idea of leaving Virgil, and this had been one of those times.

It isn’t as though Virgil doesn’t understand; dating a traveling actor, his boyfriend actually traveling, sometimes, isn’t something that can really come from a surprise. More than that, Virgil’s incredibly supportive of his partner. Roman’s a hell of an actor and he knows it. He deserves to grace every stage that will have him, larger ones, especially. But that doesn’t make the time apart any less difficult.

Sure, they call each other a ton, Roman insists on Facetiming nightly, and they keep in touch as best they can. But it’s never any easier, facing that empty bed at the end of the day. It can be a lot to handle, realizing audiences of strangers are being graced with Roman’s presence while Virgil is home alone eating Ramen Noodles and sulking.

It’s not as though Roman is Virgil’s entire world – he’s damn close, though. Virgil has friends he loves spending time with. He works as a freelance artist, so holing himself up at home is usually more fun than depressing, painting all day long. But god, he misses Roman when he’s away. Maybe more than he’s willing to admit, sometimes.

Three months has got to be the longest they’ve spent apart since they’ve been dating, at least as far as Virgil can remember. The gig was a role of a lifetime, Roman would’ve had to be sufficiently stupid not to take it, but it wasn’t easy on the couple. Virgil flew up to see one of Roman’s shows, and that was great, but it made going back home all the more challenging. Roman’s been gone so long, Virgil’s aching to see him, and any minute now, he’s gonna get to.

Virgil can certainly think of worse ways to spend a birthday.

“Virgil?” Virgil swivels around, grinning ear-to-ear when he sees Roman walking his way, suitcase in tow. Virgil practically sprints toward him, immediately pulled into a firm embrace the moment they make contact.

“My love, my angel, mi amour,” Roman drawls, dramatic as ever but Virgil can’t find it in himself to be irritated with him, “I missed you!” Roman gets on his tiptoes (Virgil would be lying if he said he hadn’t always found their height difference adorable) pressing their lips together soundly. If they weren’t in public, Virgil would want nothing more than to keep kissing Roman for eternity, but alas.

“I missed you too, dork,” Virgil says with an unshakable grin as they pull apart, though his hand quickly finds Roman’s free-one as they walk towards the taxis, the sound of Roman’s luggage wheeling behind them. “How’s the jet lag?”

“Absolutely abysmal,” Roman declares, and Virgil’s fairly sure he’s being a little dramatic, if such a thing is even possible, “Can we have a quiet day at home? I want nothing more than to lay on the couch with you and watch Disney movies, and continue to declare my undying love for you.” Virgil snorts.

“Aw, you poor baby,” he says, only half-sarcastically, “Sure, babe. Whatever you want. Sound good to me.”

The two talk of their missed time together in the cab, Virgil telling him of some of the new pieces he’s been working on and Roman filling him in on how the play went.

“That’s the last far-away show I do for a while,” Roman says once they’ve arrived home, flopping down on the couch, “God, it’s good to be home with you.”

“That’d be nice,” Virgil admits, sitting beside Roman, which quickly turns to settling into his lap, Roman’s fingers threaded in his hair, “Not – not that you can’t do shows wherever. I get it.”

“Hey, I mean it,” Roman says, voice edging on seriousness, “I’ve missed you terribly. I’ve missed us. I loved doing the show, and I met some very wonderful people, but very little compares to you, my love.” Virgil laughs lightly as Roman presses a kiss to his lips, firm and overwhelmingly loving.

“Jesus, you’ve managed to get even sappier than usual.”

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder, darling,” Roman says, “And, also, shut up! You love it.” Virgil glares playfully at his boyfriend.

“And what if I do?”

“And you looove me,” Roman says, drawling out the ‘o’ as far as it’ll stretch. Virgil rolls his eyes, but his expression betrays nothing but fondness. “Yeah, I do. I really fucking love you, Ro.”

“More than angsty emo bands?”

“Well… let’s not go that far.” Roman squawks in offense.

“You wound me!” Virgil laughs again, the sound far more content than he’s felt in the last few months, his arms winding around his boyfriend so that he’s lying against his chest.

“I’m teasing and you know it,” Virgil says, kissing Roman once more as if to further his point, or maybe just because he’s really missed kissing him, “I missed you like crazy.”

“One of my co-stars flirted with me; would you believe that?” Virgil hums in place of a response, lost in the feeling of embracing Roman against for the first time in what feels like forever. “I have you as my lock screen, and I talk of you constantly. Also, where in the world did she get the impression I had the slightest interest in women?!” Virgil snorts at that.

“Must’ve been an off-day for her if she was delusional enough to think you were straight, or bi, or anything that isn’t insanely gay.”

“I know, right!”

Virgil’s missed this so much. Their playful back-and-forth, innocuous teasing, cuddling on the couch and basking in each other's company. As far as he’s concerned, he’d like to keep holding onto Roman like this and never, ever let him go. Virgil can’t recall when he’d become such a fucking sap, but there’s no changing it now. He’s just gonna have to live with it, and he really doesn’t mind the thought of that.

They watch Disney movies as discussed, Virgil critiquing and pointing out plot-holes all the while (Virgil, everyone knows Beauty and the Beast is a little problematic, and frankly, I don’t want to hear it!) He can tell the long flight really wore Roman out, so he decides not to comment about the fact that it’s his birthday, instead putting all of his focus on being together again.

That is until Virgil comes out of the bathroom some hours later, having just gotten ready for bed, and finding Roman sitting on their bed with a sullen expression.

“Whoa, hey, Roman, what’s the matter?” He asks, quickly sitting beside his partner.

“I’m a terrible boyfriend.” Virgil blinks. What the fuck?

“What? No, you’re not. What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your birthday,” Roman supplies, sounding gut-wrenchingly guilty, “I forgot your birthday!”

Oh. Virgil had kinda forgotten himself, too caught up in having Roman by his side once more. He glances at the clock.

“It’s not midnight yet,” he says, “You didn’t forget. Just remembered a little late.” Roman buries his face in his hands.

“I didn’t get you anything! I didn’t wish you happy birthday! I-I’m terrible, you must hate me!” Virgil sighs, settling a hand on Roman’s shoulder.

“Roman…”

“I’m sorry,” Roman mumbles weakly, embarrassedly.

“Hey, it’s okay. I don’t hate you.” Roman peaks up from his hands, daring to make eye-contact.

“You… you don’t?”

“Jesus Christ, of course not! I love you, you idiot. It’s just a birthday, I’m gonna have more of those, you know. It’s kind of this annual thing.”

“But- but I didn’t –.”

“It’s fine, babe. Seriously, I kinda forgot, too. Having you home again is gift enough, as it is. I can’t think of a better present than that.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” Virgil shakes his head, planting a kiss to Roman’s cheek.

“No need. There’s nothing to make up for. You look ready to pass out right now, as it is. I’m not mad at you for forgetting; you’ve been so fucking busy for the last couple of months, and you had a long-ass plane ride today. You’re permitted a little forgetfulness, okay?” Roman sighs as he slides into bed with Virgil and shuts out the light, his head resting on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“I’m taking you to dinner tomorrow.” Virgil lets out a sigh.

“You don’t have to –.”

“I want to,” Roman insists, “It’s the least I can do since you’re being so gracious.”

“What, were you expecting me to force you to the couch, or something?” Roman pauses. “Roman?”

“…Maybe.” Virgil can’t help but bark out a laugh.

“Are you kidding me? After all those nights without you, I’m not letting you go anywhere.” To make sure things are crystal-clear, he tightens his hold on Roman, pressing a kiss into his hair.

“That’s good because I really wasn’t looking forward to it.”

“You’re such a dramatic doofus. Lucky that you’re so cute,” Virgil says, feeling Roman begin to go lax with exhaustion.

“Mm, love you, Virgey,” Roman mumbles sleepily.

“I love you too, Ro.”

“Happy birthday…,” Roman says before sleep greets him and he drifts off. Virgil shuts his eyes, contentment washing over him as, too, welcomes slumber.

Despite Roman’s insistent apology, Virgil still can’t think of a better birthday present.

=+=

Taglist:

@nadiestar

@unoriginalgayboyalex 

Please let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist! I’d be happy to add you! 

[kingedmundsroyalmurder]

The Enchanted Ring: a summary

Sine last night was mostly out of context screenshots, I present to you the story thus far:

Our heroine is Princess Libania, daughter of the deposed King of Persia. Her father was overthrown and killed by a revolution due to his being a tyrant, and Libania was raised by a wise sage who didn’t reveal her true identity to her until her 18th birthday. On that day, she gets a letter from her guardian revealing that she is the princess, and that her guardian has been working tirelessly on her behalf for years and there is an army and a mountain of gold waiting for her whenever she would like to take back her throne.

Libania writes back to say that she appreciates the thought, but that the new king seems pretty decent and the people seem happy and that she doesn’t want to bring about another round of bloodshed and violence just to overthrow a decent ruler for the sake of her own gain. She then exiles herself from Persia so that no one is tempted to stage a revolt on her behalf anyway.

All of that is backstory. Our narrative actually begins two years later, when Libania wanders into a grotto on an island. There, she finds a bronze statue, who tells her (and therefore us) all of the above in order to explain why she is the most virtuous woman to have ever lived. As a reward for this virtue, she is given the choice between two magic rings, sent by God: a ring of “solid mercury” that grants invisibility and a ring of gold that grants “amour.” It is not specified whether the solidity of the mercury is part of the magic of the ring or not. Libania chooses the gold ring, which is the Best and Most Virtuous choice, according to the statue. Most beautiful women would have trusted in their own beauty and appeal to attract love and instead chosen the ring that would allow them to gain knowledge of everything. (Sidenote: he’s got me there -- when she picked the gold ring I did literally say to my partner, “I feel like she’s beautiful and charismatic enough to attract love and loyalty without magic, she should have picked the other one.” +1 to Mr. O’Neddy for a solid grasp on psychology.)

Libania chooses the ring, and the statue reveals that it is actually a fallen archangel who had taken part in Lucifer’s rebellion. At the last moment, the archangel realized its mistake and as it was falling from heaven sent waves of remorse and regret towards God, who therefore exiled the angel to earth instead of to Hell. Its mission was to await the coming of the most perfect woman and give her the rings. This duty has now been accomplished, and so the archangel can return to Heaven at last. Before leaving, it explains to Libania how her ring works.

As long as Libania is not in love with anyone, the ring will grant her love and protection from all humans, animals, plants, and even rocks and weather patterns. She will be greeted with joy and welcomed wherever she goes, and nature shall not harm her. However, should she fall in love, all that will stop and instead the ring will grant her eternal happiness with her partner and his love will never stray and neither will hers. The only thing that can mar the relationship between them while she has the ring is death.

Libania goes on to travel the Orient, exploring every corner of her native region. Everywhere she goes she is, of course, welcomed and treated like royalty. Having explored all Asia, she then moves on to Europe, crossing into Germany and wondering at its vast forests. However the land she most wants to see is, of course, France, the Best Place ruled by the Best King, Charlemagne.

When Libania arrives at Charlemagne’s camp, he is laying siege to the Avars in their last city. Libania asks to see the King himself, but is told that he is preparing for the final assault and gave word that he was not to be disturbed for any reason. Libania explores the camp for a while, charms all of Charlemagne’s aids and generals, including a Bishop who makes it his mission to try to convert her. (Sidenote: this is the first indication we get that Libania isn’t Christian, other than the fact of her being from Persia. Her actual religion is never stated, or at least hasn’t been yet -- I assume it’s meant to be Islam.) Eventually she decides she wants to go see the Avar city before it gets sacked by the French. Just as she’s deciding to do this, a mysterious man emerges from Charlemagne’s tent. He is wearing a blue cloak and has his visor down and no one knows who he might be as he sets out towards the city. Libania catches up to him and asks to go with him, and he agrees.

In the Avar city, the pair learns that the Avar king has just died abruptly and mysteriously without any heirs. The council of elders has convened to pick a new king, but it’s complicated because there are lots of distant relatives vying for the job and picking any one of them will upset and anger all the others. The council welcomes Libania and the mysterious messenger, and seats Libania in the best chair they have, the King’s throne. The messenger tells the council that he has come with a proposed peace treaty from Charlemagne: if they surrender to him here, and promise to swear fealty and pay an annual tribute, he will cease the hostilities and let them keep their city and their territory.

The elders are pretty dubious about this and, anyway, only the king has the authority to make decisions like that and they don’t have one right now, so could the messenger please sit tight until the pick one. The messenger agrees, but points out that a new king would be required to ask Libania to give up her seat to him, which would be completely unacceptable. The council then gets an idea and, after throwing each other Significant and Meaningful Looks, ask Libania if she would like to be their queen. Because she is clearly and obviously superior to all the other hopefuls, none of them will by rights be able to challenge for the throne, nor be mad that they weren’t the ones chosen.

Libania accepts the throne, and agrees to the treaty, on the condition that the annual tribute be swapped out for a one time offering. The messenger agrees and takes off his helmet to reveal that, shock gasp, he is Charlemagne himself! The treaty is signed, the Franks retreat, and Libania is left to rule the Avars, with a promise to go visit Charlemagne before the year is out. Not wanting to be called Queen of the Avars, which in French is a synonym for greedy, she styles herself the Queen of Transylvania.

Fast forward a year, and Libania has gone to visit Charlemagne. She is wise and just and has a knack for picking wise and just men as councilors and advisers, and she uses these talents to benefit Charlemagne as well. During her stay, he falls madly in love with her. She, however, is not in love back, and the narrator isn’t entirely sure that she even notices that Charlemagne wants her. One of the councilors is the archbishop, who redoubles his efforts to convert Libania. Charlemagne approves of this, since he could only marry a Christian woman. At this point the translator notes that, historically, Charlemagne was already on his fourth wife and had several children.

One morning, she surprises him about to sneak out of the castle, and he admits to her that he’s off to go retrieve a magic serpent’s egg. This egg will grant a bunch of things to its bearer, including eternal life, and he wants it. They have a back and forth about it, and she declares that, far from trying to stop him, she is going to go with him. She tells him about her magic ring and the two set off on their quest. And that’s as far as I’ve gotten. More to come!

[muthaz-rapapa]

Precure S.H. Figuarts Waitlist

As much as I hate thinking about it, need to post this to make sure I’m not the only one bemoaning Bandai’s horrendous track record of exclusive, non-releases. 

*sobbing* (; _ ;  )

Tbh, I really prefer scales but like that’s going to ever happen again. Even Hugtto’s success wasn’t enough to bring back the prize figures. Or even trading figures! :P

Missing Cures:

Cure Ange - Prototype pics already up, just no release date yet.

HaCha team [Lovely, Princess, Honey, Fortune] - Now this is just ****** unfair! Yes, I understand that they’d want to capitalize on the more recent and/or popular seasons first but it’s been almost six years and these girls should be given their due. Just because their season was polarizing doesn’t make them any less deserving members of the franchise. >:(

Maho team [Miracle, Magical, Felice] - Only Miracle received a proto but the photos of her are hardly flattering. Still, at least she and Magical have been announced so there’s still hope for improvement and eventual release dates and of course, though it might take another eternity Felice. I can say with 80% certainty they’ll probably be released before the HaCha team, though. *more sobbing*

Star team [Star, Milky, Soleil, Selene, Cosmos] - Being a more recent season, expect them to be announced (not released)...2 years from now? And that’s just me being optimistic. I don’t know how popular StarPre is but I’m pretty sure not as much as Hugtto was during its run so it’ll likely take a while to finally get started on this line. Not to mention, with current production being delayed due to the pandemic and all (just to be clear, this I have no problem with because always safety for the workers first!!). And that’s just for the first Cure, too, which will undoubtedly be Star. Then after, it’s a matter of the most to least popular in the team which I suspect goes something like this: Milky, Selene or Cosmos, Soleil.

Heal team [Grace, Fontaine, Sparkle, Earth] - Can’t expect any announcement when the season isn’t even halfway done yet. Nah, the soonest I can expect to see any confirmation will have to be closer to the end. As for order of release, probably this: Grace, Sparkle, Fontaine. I’m leaving Earth out for now since she hasn’t debuted yet so can’t really judge when there’s no reception to judge on. *shrug*

Other potential releases (no guarantees, though):

These are mainly recurring, supporting characters. At least those who were popular enough that some fans would want to purchase them so Bandai might be convinced to keep an open mind for?? Maybe?? I dunno.

There was a poll a few years ago but(with the exception of Twilight) I’m not sure the ones I listed here were on it. Anyways, too lazy to look for the link and translate the results atm.

Not strangely, they are also mostly villains.

Dark Dream - Ok, so she’s movie-exclusive but Dark Dream’s still receiving a lot of love today. If any other character from Yes!5 had the chance of getting the figure treatment (ignoring the Renewal version of Dream), it’d be her.

Regina - I’m not really big on Regina so I don’t know how many would want to buy a Figuarts of her but I’m sure a good chunk of people would love to include her with the rest of the Doki team.

Twilight - She is my greatest grail. Who do I have to kill to get her? (⊙◡⊙ ;;) In all seriousness, though, Eas and Dark Precure got theirs so don’t see why Twilight can’t get one either since she was one of the best parts of Go!Pri.

Pikario/Rio - All the YES. I mean, I’m not collecting Kira merchandise but hell yea, I want to see him part of the line-up anyway! And they’ll likely go with his purified form over his villain form (Julio). Simply because it’s the most fab out of everyone else’s.

Lulu Amour (Criasu version) - Sometimes I think I love this look on her more than I like Cure Amour. Just sometimes, though. Anyways, Lulu is easily the most popular girl among the Hugtto team so would not be surprised if she got another Figuarts. But honestly? Not really that hopeful for it. At least, priority for her is lower than the main Cures who haven’t gotten released yet.

Would be nice but 0.00000000...1% chance of happening:

Form Changes. I mean, the only alternative forms that got Figuarts were Cure Angel (Peach only, the other Fresh girls were shelved), Heartcatch Super Silhouette...and yea, that’s it.

Really, though, that was a different time altogether so don’t hold your hopes up. If it takes a miracle to get one of the main characters finally released, it would take another dozen lifetime of miracles for a Form Change to just be considered.

*SIGH*

Go!Pri Mode Elegant - A proto of Flora’s Mode Elegant was showcased years ago but since she’s never been announced for mass production, then she probably was only made for the showcase. So yea, sadly, none for the other girls either. :’( If there were Figuarts, though, I’d only want their first Elegant forms. The other ones like Rose, Lily, Bubble, Luna, etc, I don’t really care for since there’s not that much difference from the initial forms.

Maho Form Changes - This is me we’re talking about so frickyea, I want the Ruby, Sapphire and Topaz forms! I also wouldn’t mind Alexandrite but hah, in my far off dreams probably.

StarPre Zodiac Forms - ...actually, I am more saddened by the fact that Cosmos has 4 forms while the other girls only have 2. Yes, STILL upset about that and will be forever upset about that so leave me the hell alone and let me sulk! xP

......

That’s all, I suppose.

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Hips - part 1 (A Jongin Two-Shot)

Genre: Romance (Fluff/Future Smut/Angst)

Characters: Jongin X You

A/N: part 2 will be posted when i hit 6k followers.

#3 of the 3K Followers Requests - Jongin teaches dance to little kids.

He is surprised to learn that his peculiar new student, who has a habit of collecting things that don’t belong to her, is actually the daughter of his neighbor, a hardworking single mother. When he recognizes the exercise shirt his neighbor is wearing, he finally has to speak up.(3 requests combined)

Soundtrack: All songs by Stevie Wonder, 1. Sir Duke, 2. Superstition, 3. My Cherie Amour, 4. Higher Ground.

Hips : Part 1, Part 2

This wasn’t quite what you had envisioned for your life. The laundry basket was heavy and balanced just on your hip and you gripped the tiny hand of your 6 year old daughter tightly with your other hand. You had only been living here for a week and a half, and the one thing you hadn’t quite taken into account was managing the four flights of stairs with a clean load of laundry fresh from the first floor dryers.

The place was cheap enough for you to afford the two bedroom unit in a safe part of town and still be able to afford certain things like food and electricity on your income. Nari’s dance lessons came out of the support you received from your ex. You swore to yourself that no matter how tough things got, you would let her stay in the class she loved so much.

You folded clothing and put items neatly away, half paying attention to the noisy kid’s show on the tv, half paying attention to the time on the clock that told you Nari had only forty minutes before dance class and she hadn’t yet had a bath or lunch.

Baths and lunches were a necessity for Nari, yet a luxury for you. She was squeaky clean and well fed and you hastily tied up your wet hair from the quickest shower of your life into a messy, wet blob on top of your head and grabbed a random t shirt from the stack of clean clothes and pulled it over your head. The cut off crusts you shoved into your mouth as you made her sandwich would have to do for nutrition. You simply didn’t have time for anything else.

“Mommy my tights are itchy,” she complained from the backseat as she raked her nails over the clinging fabric covering her thighs and you pulled into the parking lot of the dance studio.

The clock in your car told you that in some surprising personal record, you were only five minutes late.

Nari jumped and bounced her way up the driveway, through the front door and down the hallway to the dance room where the sounds of children’s laughter and movement filtered through the closed door.

Through the door she bolted, disappearing into a small crowd of kids.

You stood, just inside the room, lingering just long enough to catch the instructor before the lessons began. You needed to make a payment for the last month of classes and you had finally settled the matter with your ex. You were eternally grateful that the old woman who ran the studio was willing to work with you until you could secure the payment.

The door behind you burst open and you moved to the side to avoid being trampled by a giggling little girl who seemed to be Nari’s age. The children parted and you saw your daughter embrace the newcomer in excitement.

“Nina,” a man’s voice shouted from the open doorway, “What did I say about running in here?”

You turned to the sound and caught his profile as he rushed through the door. You recognized the desperate look in his eyes. The look of a nagging parent needing to be heard by their misbehaving child and he clenched his jaw down hard as he scanned the room for the child.

“Of course she isn’t listening to me. Nari is here. She never listens when Nari is here to listen to instead. Why do I even��” He caught you standing at the doorway next to him and his eyes widened in surprise, but his mouth kept running, “–bother?” The last word came out as a whisper.

An adorable whisper dear lord, who is this handsome man and why were you staring? You stared at his face for a few seconds longer because why not, you were already trapped by wide eyes and those pouty lips and broad, chiseled arms with, sweet jesus, muscles? Who even had muscles any more? What?

“Hello,” he said quietly and you tried to remember why you came.

You nodded your head.

Was that the best you could do? A nod? He didn’t ask a question, he said hello you dummy. Who even had muscles like this? Why did he have them and why didn’t he wear a real shirt that covered things like sexy muscles? You instantly felt disgruntled.

“Uhh, I’m Mr. Kim,” of course he was Mr. Kim. The cute ones were always Mr. Kim. You angled your eyes at his now outstretched hand, as if taking it for a handshake was somehow admitting just how sexy this man was.

“…the dance instructor, are you one of my parents?”

One of his? Were you his? He was the teacher here so yes, you must be his.

Oh no, he was still waiting for you to act like a normal person. You shot your hand out and grabbed his too hard and too fast and he seemed to flinch in surprise at your sudden movement. Maybe he was just jumpy but the small blush you saw on his pretty face, impossibly, made him look less like a sexy beast, and more like a cute little puppy.

“Yes, I’m Nari’s mom. I have to make a payment.” You held up your checkbook with a small smile and he gripped your hand and shook his own up and down slowly as his eyes seemed to travel around your face. And lower, what? Where was he looking? You stiffened when you were sure you saw his eyes down on your chest, was this man checking you out right now? In a room full of six year olds? With those muscles?

What should you do? This felt like a new situation to you, and you honestly were too stunned to move. Eventually the blatant staring he was doing right where your breasts sat changed and he narrowed his eyes to a squint and cocked his head to the right.

Okay that was enough.

Staring was one thing, but squinting? Who the hell did he think he was?

“Come into the office and you can make your payment.” He said with his eyes still no where near your face and when he looked up he probably noticed the very obvious heat that covered your face.

He was walking ahead of you and the noise of the children filled your head as you moved further into the room. There was a loud clapping of hands from the man walking in front of you and you watched in amazement as the mass of children disbursed into neat little obedient rows before your very eyes.

Even Nari, the least obedient of the children you were sure, fell in line when she heard that clap.

“Stretches!” He shouted at the group and they immediately bent down together, reaching for their toes.

You signed with a flourish on your payment, covering the next two months of classes as well as the balance due for last month and he hastily scribbled out a receipt for you. From the decor on the wall, you could see family pictures that you hadn’t paid attention to before. The old woman who usually took your payment rushed you out quickly so you wouldn’t be late for work and you hadn’t a chance to actually see any of the pictures.

With him standing in front of you now, you could easily recognize the wide smile on the wall behind him. A picture, obviously years old with his smiling face, wide and beautiful, holding a small baby up for the camera to see. From where you stood it was clear to see that someone had been cut off of the other side of the photo, right after where the baby was shown. Someone with long black hair that made the picture now seem lopsided and off balance with her absence.

“Can I ask you why you are wearing my shirt?” Mr. Kim spoke up suddenly after you had tucked the receipt in between the pages of your checkbook and you looked down at the shirt you wore, confused as to why he would be saying such a thing when you had very obviously just gotten dressed at your own home with your own clothing fresh from the dryer at your new apartment building.

What the hell was this shirt? You looked up with wide eyes before you looked down again seeing very clearly that you wore a very soft, very worn in grey t shirt with what appeared to be a design for a 2008 Lifeguard Competition and the faded markings of where someone had written in a name with a big black sharpie. Barely legible from the years of washings you could make out the letters when you pulled the fabric away from your belly and stretched it out.

It was upside down, but it definitely read “Kim Jongin” and you looked back up into his questioning face with that feeling coursing through your head. You know that feeling…the one that feels like death.

“I–” your mouth was open and your lips were trying to speak but why were you wearing this shirt?

“Are you Kim Jongin?” You searched your memory of this morning. Rushing to get ready, reaching into the stack of freshly washed clothes you pulled out a t shirt and put it on without actually looking at it.

He nodded his head and the way he stood just behind the desk with his arms over his chest made his biceps pop and strain against the fabric of his shirt.

“I have no idea why I am wearing your shirt.” It was the truth. You didn’t know how it got into your laundry and you definitely didn’t know how it just so happened to be on your body right now without you even noticing for one second that you were wearing the very worn, very very comfy t shirt that belonged to this sexy man who was now chewing on his bottom lip as he looked through the glass window where rows of children stretched.

He moved from behind the desk and leaned through the doorway.

“Nari will you come in here for a minute please.” The children erupted in hoots and you watched as your daughter put her head down and made her way in between kids toward the office.

Her eyes went wide to see you standing at the desk and you saw the glance she made down at the shirt you wore.

Her wide eyes went to Mr. Kim’s eyes and you could feel your own heart pounding inside your chest and you watched the tall man as he slowly lowered himself down to her level and squatted on his heels.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting as you held your breath, waiting for the man to begin speaking to your daughter.

“Nari, honey did you borrow something of mine again?” His voice was soft and he reached his hand out to hold on to hers as she bit down on her top lip and pouted her bottom lip out. She gave a tiny nod and looked into his eyes as he smiled a tiny bit.

“Remember what I said? You can borrow anything you like, but you should tell me about it so I don’t worry that I lost it. Okay?” His hand rubbed lightly over her own and he reached out a hand to cup her face lightly. You saw the small tremble in her bottom lip and his smile widened.

“No no, you’re okay. Just tell me next time okay?” His eyebrows lifted with the promise and he held up his pinky finger for Nari to take. With a small sniffle she reeled in her emotions at being caught in her misdeed, and agreed with his promise.

You watched in awe. Your mouth might have even been open. There were no loud voices, no threats, no shouting, nothing scary that you might have heard from your ex husband in this situation, but somehow…this approach seemed to have a much greater impact on your daughter. She quickly turned and moved to the spot where the kids had their cubbies with various personal belongings and ran back to Mr. Kim holding a small toy in her hand.

She held it out to him and you recognized the pink frog that she often played with on your living room floor. You knew from the tantrums she threw when she accidentally left it behind that it was one of her favorite toys. The cheap thing must have cost a whole two cents to make, yet she had a strange attachment to things you would never quite understand.

“Here. You can borrow hoppy for tonight if you want.” She spoke in a sweet voice and Mr. Kim reached out with his mouth in an exaggerated surprised face as he picked up the tiny piece of plastic from her palm.

“Are you sure? What if I play with him all night?”

“He can take it. He’s a good hopper.” And with that she was off, bolting through the children to take her place next to Nina and resume the stretching for the class.

He carefully deposited the pink frog onto the corner of the desk where you saw a cell phone and a set of keys sitting and you wondered if he would really take the toy home with him tonight.

“You can stay and watch if you want.” He paused at the doorway and looked back where you stood staring at that damn photograph on the wall. The one with the bright smiling face of Mr. Kim Jongin and the tiny baby girl in a picture frame and the missing other half that, the closer you looked, you noticed the photo had the distinct markings of being torn out, rather than neatly cut with scissors.

When you turned away from the image that seemed to speak volumes, while filling your curiosity with countless questions alike, he was gone.

“Okay free dance time!” He shouted over the children’s heads and they cheered as he trotted over to a stereo in the corner to turn on some music.

A familiar funky upbeat soul song(1) played over the speakers in the ceiling. A song you hadn’t heard in years but always brought a smile to your face. Perhaps it was the sight before you that brought the smile. The children began moving their bodies, some very wildly like Nari swung their limbs and moved all over the place, others grabbed hands with classmates and danced to the beat together.

“To the beat! Listen to the song while you dance or I won’t do it.” Mr. Kim shouted over the song. Some kids who had been moving too fast out of sync with the beat of the song looked up into his face and slowed their bodies, eventually nodding heads or kicking their legs as they found their own rhythms. The proud mother in you watched as Nari danced some unconventional jig exactly on beat to the song and despite the strange kicks and punches, she had a good sense of the beat.

Perhaps she got it from you. You nodded your head to the song as the children wound down some of their excitement of being free to express themselves.

The song ended and immediately after the track a new one started and the children all stopped in their tracks and turned to face Mr. Kim. You noticed they seemed to make a big circle as they watched him and you watched too, curious as to what they were waiting for.

“Okay okay, my turn.” He said with a wide smile that you caught just the edges of and something about the man who stood in the center of the room seemed to shift.

Their faces were glued to him and you didn’t blame them. He changed his posture and lifted one hand to his hip, the other hand rose to snap to the beat of the song(2) that played and nearly instantly the change you saw in his countenance took over entirely. The song started with only a beat, and he felt it in his bones. You saw his head nod, his shoulders shift and sway and soon the rest of his body followed.

This…this person wasn’t adorable blushing sweet Mr. Kim, not at all. His hips moved freely, his legs danced expertly, carrying his body along in smooth motions. Was his spine even connected to his body? How in the world was it possible for so much fluid movement from a real human? You stared, again probably with your mouth open. With each new beat of the song, you could practically feel in your chest the movements of his body, his arms, the expressions on his face that told a story, the way he slowed and closed his eyes and the fast spins as he moved through the room, eventually grabbing the hands of a few of the children to bring them along through the musical journey.

Your eyes widened further and you closed your open mouth when you realized that he was too close to where you stood like a statue at the back of the room, clutching your checkbook and your car keys against your chest for dear life.

His hands released the child he had in his grip and his eyes zeroed in on yours for exactly one second before you felt his warm hand grab yours and you yelped out in genuine shock.

You heard your car keys hit the floor behind you and your legs were moving whether you wanted them to or not.

“Um, I’m not–” you complained through gritted teeth and his own smile widened to near incapacitating levels. How many teeth does this guy have? “–very good at this–” your words were barely audible over the music and the cheering sound from the children who giggled and clapped all around you.

“Dancers! Let’s tell Nari’s mommy what we always say,” His eyes stayed focused on yours as he shouted to the children around the room. You heard a collective inhale before the children all shouted in unison.

”Always try your best!” Their voices echoed around the big empty room and you tried your best not to roll your damn eyes.

He pulled harder at your hand and the force caught you off guard. You stumbled right where he wanted you and you felt your own chest collide against his firm chest before you settled your legs and found yourself in a semi-embrace with the man, his body heat actually noticeable through the thin t shirt you wore with his very name written on it. An arm wrapped loosely around your waist and the tips of his fingertips applying just enough pressure against your skin to tell you exactly where you should move.

The man must be made entirely of magic, because your legs moved to the beat of the song and you didn’t step on his feet once.

He pulled away from you with a grin on his lips and you saw him popping his shoulders sexily before he leaned in and whispered a command to you.

“You do it,” he said lowly and when he pulled away again you felt the light touch of his fingertips along your hip.

What choice did you have? You popped your shoulders, giving a little shake to the beat of the song and the man bit down on his lip lightly, giving you possibly the most inappropriate look you had ever received from a member of the opposite sex in your entire life. And it happened in front of your daughter and all of her friends.

“Yeah,” he said in victory and then he winked at you and you were done. The exasperated scoff that left your chest was the anthem of your doneness.

Your smile was wide, but in your chest you felt the undeniable, and completely inappropriate direction your thoughts wanted to take.

Luckily the song was over and the children rushed to the center of the dance floor for the actual start of the lesson.

You felt like you might just collapse as you meandered your way through tiny bodies back to your spot at the back of the room. You bent to collect the things he had simply tossed away in favor of the dance and when you stood you could feel something…or someone. Whatever it was it felt exactly like you were being watched. You spun and were greeted only with the back of the man. His broad shoulders connected to lifted arms and he bowed deeply to the room of attentive students as he began his lesson.

Today was one of the few days that you didn’t have to rush off to work after dropping Nari off at dance and you decided with the class nearly halfway through you could simply wait it out and sit in on the class. It was obvious that Jongin–uhh Mr. Kim didn’t mind having you in the room and every now and then you would meet his eye from somewhere across the room as he straightened an arm, or corrected a toe point, or lifted a chin.

Each time it happened he would smile a tiny smile and quickly return to the class and by the end of the class you must have let your guard down a bit too much because how long had you actually been staring at his face as he moved around the room now? You felt as if you had been pulled into a trance and when he clapped his hands to pull everyone’s attention to him once more you snapped to attention and straightened your posture.

The bench you had been sitting on made your ass feel a bit numb and you rose to your feet to stretch a bit.

“Okay one more song. What should we dance to?” He was speaking and you could see how much calmer everyone in the room was. Perhaps they were finally free of all of the excess energy that kids had. You knew Nari always slept like a log on the days when she had dance class.

“Dance with Nari’s mommy again!” A tiny voice from the back shouted and Mr. Kim turned his head in the direction of the voice.

“With Nari’s mommy?” He said with a slight upward inflection to his voice that wasn’t there before. He pivoted his torso to look back at you with a mischievous smile on his face. The group gave their approval.

“Is Nari’s mommy a good dancer?” He said and the the kids giggled and cheered as he made his way with a little skip in his step toward where you stood with your damn keys and checkbook still in your hands.

This time, you gave in to the urge to roll your eyes when he bowed deeply in front of you with his hand outstretched and lifted into the air.

“May I have this dance?” You set your things down on the bench and placed your fingertips into the palm of his outstretched hand, ignoring the high pitched giggles you heard from the room at your agreement.

He placed a hand inside his pocket and you saw a remote that he aimed at the stereo in the room and you felt the warmth of his living body when he leaned in to whisper into your ear.

“Don’t worry. You’ll only be mine for two minutes and fifty-three seconds.”

It was a short song. You sighed as you stepped into him, a strange mix of relief that the song was so short and regret that the song was so short hitting you at the same time and the first notes of Stevie Wonder’s My Cherie Amour(3) began to play overhead.

“Not enough time to fall in love then.” You whispered mostly to yourself, taken aback that you would dare say such a thing out loud with a complete stranger so close to you.

He didn’t respond and you hoped he hadn’t heard you.

This song was much slower than the first song you danced to and he mostly lead you around, pausing to spin you at certain moments in the song. After each spin or dip you felt his arms constrict as he pulled you in closer again, closer and closer and by the end of the song you could feel the thumping of his heartbeat against your chest. Your own breathing was faster, despite the casual slow dance that required very little effort at all.

His hand which splayed out over your back, high up between your shoulder blades had been slipping and when you looked up into his face you could see the strange focus he had while he danced.

His face was expressive, expertly showing the emotions of the songs and this, very obviously a love song seemed to pull the emotions to the surface as he held the eye contact with you. You looked down at his mouth when you caught movement and noticed that he was mouthing the words with his focus on your face.

And the hips. This song was about the hips and he made you sway yours along with his and soon the song was winding down and fading away, leaving you with your hips still pressed up against his own when the music stopped and the silence took over the room.

His eyes were still on yours and your heartbeat pounded noisily inside your ears. Nearly too loudly for you to catch his next words but the quiet whisper you heard against your ear was just loud enough for you to make out.

“That was plenty of time.”

The kids were clapping and jumping in excitement around you and you felt his arms release their hold they once held so strongly.

The class was over now and the energy seemed to return to the group as they chatted and laughed with each other and left one by one as parents arrived to retrieve them.

Nari pulled the arm of a little girl, the same one you remember arriving with a burst of movement through the door and she looked into your eyes with hopeful excitement.

“Mommy can Nina have dinner with us at our house?”

Two sets of big brown begging eyes looked up at you, as cute and as sweet as could be.

“What does Nina’s daddy say?” A throat cleared behind you and you turned to catch the big brown eyes or Mr. Kim.

“Nina’s daddy says not tonight, but maybe next time.”

You were familiar with this sort of answer. It was the hopeful promise of next time to stave off a tantrum and both girls frowned dramatically at being turned down. Honestly you frowned as well, only, because you were an adult and used to disappointment, yours was well concealed behind a flat hand that rested over your mouth as you looked away from him.

“But Daddy,” Nina was complaining, “you said that the last time.”

When you turned to face them you were surprised to see him watching you with some unreadable expression on his face, seemingly oblivious that hand was being pulled and shook as the girl complained noisily.

What was he doing? Why was he wavering? Didn’t he know that the first rule of parenting was holding your ground? If he gave in to her begging now she would only learn that begging works if she does it well enough and for a long enough time, she will win.

You widened your eyes at the man and shook your head in question.

He stared at your face, deep in his own thoughts for a half a second more before he seemed to snap out of it and focus his vision, lifting his eyebrows and looking down at the little girl who was winding down now, giving up the fight and learning to cope with a life full of unavoidable disappointments.

It was a good lesson to learn. She couldn’t always get her way. Nari had given up a few minutes back and was spinning in a circle singing some song you didn’t recognize.

“I always say that,” he whispered suddenly to you and you looked into his face with those same wide eyes as you leaned your head in slightly to hear his small confession, parent to parent.

“Every time she has a friend, she wants to go over and I say ‘maybe next time’ and then we never do it.” He sounded sad as he spoke into your ear and you looked down at the little girl who had linked hands together with Nari as they both spun in a circle, singing the same song together. “W-What if I’m failing as her only parent?”

“She can come for dinner. I really don’t mind. How much does a kid that size eat anyway? Maybe one..two pieces of chicken? It really makes no difference to me.” You shrugged your face and your shoulders and everything else you could possibly shrug in the most casual way humanly possible. Because you were casual right? Super casual. So what if he didn’t take you up on your offer and you went home alone and you ordered double the chicken and ate it all yourself at night after Nari fell asleep, crying into the pile of bones that symbolized your collapsed life.

“Chicken?” He said in an adorable little whine and his eyebrows knitted together above his blinking eyes. “I…love chicken.” He added very quietly to himself and you felt a burst of laughter escape your carefully constructed composure. You coughed to cover it and he looked at you again out of the sides of his eyes with a grumpy pout on his face.

His lips frowned and he lifted his chin defiantly.

“She can’t eat chicken without me. It’s a rule.” The pout on his face was impressive, as was the slight whine you heard in his voice and you laughed again when you caught the tiny tremble at the edges of his lips as a smile struggled to fight through the fit.

You pulled out your phone and opened a new text message, keying in your address quickly you handed the phone over to him and he looked down at it for a few seconds before he realized what was happening.

“But this is my address. Did you just move into the building? A four story walk up next to the park?” His eyes lit up with wonder and you looked into that face with an equally surprised expression.

“Are we neighbors?” He said after a moment of your silence and you let out a surprised laugh that pulled a smile onto his face at the odds.

“What number do you live in?” You finally asked once you found your voice again.

“405,” he said with a smile.

“–unbelievable..” you shook your head. What the hell kind of twist of fate was this? The girls were hugging now, having noticed that the dance studio was completely empty now except for you and Mr. Kim who, it seemed was lost in some thoughts of his own as he stared at you again.

Strangely, it seemed, the staring didn’t really bother you once he’d done it a few times already, this short meeting seemed to bring with it a sort of familiarity with his ways.

“Guess we will see you at home then.” He said softly and you felt a wave of nerves flood over your body with his choice of words. The intimate way he said the word ‘home’ felt terrifying and wonderful all at once.

He really showed up that night. Freshly showered, wearing a button up long sleeve shirt and black slacks, smelling like a goddamn bottle of shaving cream and toothpaste and looking like every late night fantasy you’d ever allowed yourself indulge in.

Nina and Nari disappeared into your daughter’s bedroom, all giggles, singing, dancing, and mischief and you sat down to chicken delivery and cold beer with a real life adult man who could use big words and hold a mature conversation. There wasn’t a single made up song, imaginary friend, or fart joke to be found.

And just like that, a new tradition was born. Mr. Kim and Nina came over after dance practice, and sometimes just because Nina was bored at home and driving him crazy with the songs and you’d find them at your door with some sort of culinary peace offering.

The conversation was usually light, until questions about the past heartbreaks and broken homes began floating around.

When you said “oh you know how it is,” he always knew how it was. And when he said “it’s a long story” you knew just how long. Eventually you grew tired of shaking your head and rolling your eyes with a sheepish smile.

Perhaps it was the cold beer, or the warmth you saw in his eyes when Nari rushed into the room and called him ‘Daddy’ by accident, after listening to Nina talk about the man all evening long.

“Sorry, she gets worked up,” you offered and he just stared at you with those unassuming and unjudging eyes.

“Truth is, she sees her father every other weekend and trust me when I say the man is nothing like you.” Did you detect a little bitterness in your voice? “Although she probably sees his assistant more than him.”

You longed for a change in the subject suddenly, not wanting to get into the painful details of the cheating and the fighting about his money. The last thing you wanted to do was unload all of your baggage on this handsome man with the sweet smile and even sweeter eyes.

Even if he did tend to stare too much.

“What about Nina’s mother? Is she still around?” He had never brought her up, and something about the photos you saw where she was torn out told you that even though the subject may be touchy, she probably didn’t leave this earth in any way that made him want to remember her. In fact, you were pretty sure she was still alive, with the tales Nina told about her living in a far off country as a ballerina princess.

He looked down.

The man with the never ending deep stare looked down at his half finished beer bottle and you felt like an asshole.

“I’m sor–” “She–” he interrupted your apology and his thumb picked at the label on his bottle, “–she has visitations every weekend. According to our custody agreement. She’s showed up exactly three times in all.”

When he looked back up into your eyes you could see it. The hurt in them was peeking its ugly head up and you reached a hand out to lay over his.

The picking at the label stopped and he looked down at the back of your hand.

“When we got pregnant, I pushed her to keep the baby. I was thrilled with the idea but..” he licked his lips and lifted his bottle with the other hand for a drink.

“I mean, I get it. It wasn’t my body. She was a dancer and having a child would ruin her, she said. It was selfish of me–” his hand was trembling and you reached your other hand forward to hold it still.

“She resented me for that and we never recovered. She isn’t in Nina’s life. The few visitations she has actually showed up for, fill me with a sort of mind numbing terror that I can’t quite describe. Seeing my baby walk away with her is like living inside of a nightmare that I can’t wake up from until I have her back.”

You watched his face as he relived the emotions and years of pain he had to endure from his past.

You gave him silence. You could feel his hand within yours as the trembling stopped and he eventually gripped tightly around yours and he came back to life and finished the remains of his beer.

When he finally looked up into your eyes the warmth was returning and he blinked slowly at you. You gave him a tiny smile and blinked slowly at him and he inhaled a deep chest filling breath that took a long time to empty out of his chest.

“Do you want to dance with me?” He said softly and you sat back in your chair and widened your smile.

He pushed back from the table, placed his empty bottle with the group of other empties on your kitchen counter and went to your tv to turn on the speakers there. You saw him swiping through something on his phone and in a second he was connected. When his visits became a regular thing, a big Bluetooth speaker was one of the first things he brought over. He said things like this were as necessary as a refrigerator and a stove to him.

You heard the first notes of a quick funk track(4) playing through your speakers and he began slowly nodding his head to the beat. You pushed back from the table and rose to your feet, quite unsure of what you were supposed to do without his leading, you hung back. The lyrics sang out, preaching about a life that kept on moving despite the various powers against. It was a song about keeping on and you couldn’t help but admire the symbolism in both your life and his.

His shoulders moved, his hips, of course those hips swung with a sort of disconnect from the rest of him and his hands hung limply in between parted legs. When his hands moved their direction was anything but a childish dance he did around his kids, this was definitely something you hadn’t quite expected from him when he said he wanted to dance.

His sense of the beat was impeccable of course, not that you expected anything else from Kim Jongin, but you found yourself watching him in a near hypnotic state.

Maybe you were drunk. When a hand moved closer to that space between his legs you looked up into his face, suddenly aware that you had just watched him grab himself for the sake of the dance and you were shocked to see his that eyes were open and on your face.

You wanted to look away. Everything in your body wanted to turn away but you felt trapped. When he tilted his head back, his eyes rolled up into his head and his lids closed, transforming his expression from one of a sinful predatory look to one that seemed more like pure ecstasy. The wide smile you saw flash across his face made you gasp and you felt hot all of a sudden.

“You said you would dance with me, come here.” His words broke through just over the sound of the music but his hips were swinging and those hands were still running around sinful places.

Did he mean like this? Dance with him like this? Your face must have betrayed your mild panic and you looked behind you to the bedroom where your daughter and her best friend played together in the sweet innocent land of make believe.

When you turned back to look at him, he was much closer than you expected and you felt his hands reach out and grab ahold of your hands and pull.

Your legs moved, stiffly yes, but you gave in pretty easily. When you felt his hands land right on your hips you looked down, trying to find the beat, trying to find the rhythm you knew you should have in your mind somewhere, when you were dancing but his hands were on your hips and sweet lord did he smell good up close.

His palms pushed harder against your hips and you moved sluggishly and stifled a small giggle.

“So stiff,” he said quietly with a smile and you finally gave in, loosening up your joints a bit with the encouraging pressure of his hands.

“Good girl,” he said against your ear. You were pretty sure hyperventilating wasn’t a good dance move. You half wondered if he had ever seen a grown woman faint right in his arms while dancing. Actually, with the way this guy looked, it was probably an everyday occurrence for him. How long was this damn song?

“Look at me while you’re dancing with me,” he said with a tiny tap under your chin.

You lifted your chin and looked into his eyes and instantly regretted it. The sweet warmth of Mr. Kim had vanished long ago and this look was the dance. This look was the drunkenness you saw in him brought on by the song and the motions and the closeness of this makeshift dance floor in the middle of your livingroom and once you were caught by those eyes you knew you had lost whatever flimsy bit of control you believed you had in this situation.

You couldn’t help but dance. He was addicting and he wanted you to dance so you did what he wanted. You gave in to the song, moving along with the beat of the song, feeling every single bit of it in your joints and your bones and in your hips and when your felt his hands leave their controlling perch and travel down the length of your thighs before leaving your skin entirely. You hadn’t realized that you had closed your eyes until you heard a low groan from him that pulled your focus back to his face.

His eyes were hooded and he watched you through heavy breaths puffing out through parted lips. The sight made you bite down on your bottom lip to keep from doing something worse with your mouth. He felt this. You knew he could feel exactly what you were feeling with this dance.

“That’s it, make me crazy,” he said in a low voice and his hands were back, as was the heat of his body against yours. He moved with you, pulling at your legs, making you straddle his thighs and the heat you felt drove you to search for more.

Hot fingertips dug into the flesh of your hip, high enough for your biology teacher to consider it your ass if you were being quite honest and your knee rubbed against something warm and hard between his legs that told you exactly what kind of effect you had on him.

As quickly as it began, the song ended. It was a short song. Why did he always pick the short ones? Why couldn’t you have this hours? Your eyes were closed and you could feel the beating of his heart against your chest. His hands at the small of your back, and on your ass gradually relaxed their grip and you could feel the delicate effects of the spell wearing off as he took tiny a step back and away from you.

You pulled yourself together and took a step back too. Carefully opening your eyes to get a look at his face. He was breathing hard and steady and his eyes were cast down on the floor. His cheeks were pink and his lips parted as he blinked and came back into himself once again.

“Its getting late,” he said after a moment of tense silence.

You nodded your head. He lived literally seconds away and often stayed over later than was probably appropriate for the kind of relationship you two had.

“Nina,” he said in a louder voice, breaking through the noisy laughter you heard coming from your daughter’s room. “It’s time to go home, now.”

This, you had honestly expected. He was always skittish with touching and lingering, despite the attraction you know you felt and you were pretty sure he was feeling too. Now that he had been thoroughly spooked, he was running scared.

And you would let him go. What choice did you have?

“Thank you for the beer,” he said as he gathered his child and stuck his phone into his back pocket. You forced a smile and nodded your head, waving goodbye to Nina who smiled widely by his side.

He held her hand tightly and you noticed she squirmed in his grip until she broke free and in a flash of motion she ran up to you and wrapped her arms tightly around your waist.

“Oh,” you said in surprise and quickly squatted down so you could return the hug tightly. You felt her turn her head and place a tiny kiss against your cheek and your eyes widened as you looked up into Jongin’s eyes when it happened.

“Come on Nina. Let’s go. It’s late.” He said in voice that sounded much too serious for a small kiss goodbye and you tried your best not to feel the sting against your heart as your front door slammed shut and the sound echoed around your now empty living room.

Hips : Part 1, Part 2