#lucky I bias who

[jellophoid]

I think at a certain point people kind of need to force themselves to have a black character as their favourite in something

[starlooove]

Racist white ppl who don’t realize they’re racist getting mad about gojo is so funny

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

uh-oh she's gushing about shinon again and it's super long

So you guys know I love Shinaff. BUT!!! I would like to explain to you part of how that came to be, i.e. how Janaff's supports with Shinon were both different and important!!! In other words, a direct exploration of his development involving laguz and how he's turning out for the better post Janaff A support and RD (and how it makes the most sense to have their A support slotted between the beginning of PoR and the end of RD for a full progression of his development)!

First of all, Shinon only has three supports; so unlike most characters, every line counts and needs to hold more weight to his conversations.

Rolf and Gatrie's supports portray different sides of him: the mentor and the friend. What we see in these supports is stuff we essentially already knew about him, but we're given more depth. The thing to note here is, again, we already knew these things about him. This is the man we started with.

What we don't get in these supports is proper development. Janaff is the only support he has that gives him that. Janaff's supports with him are the only ones that gives him any self reflection and improvement. This isn't necessarily a bad thing for the other supports, but it's more that it props up these ones a little bit more.

Also, when you get to RD, Shinon comes off as though he's already gotten this development. He feels like he's grown as a person. While that makes sense, from a player's perspective, we didn't really see that development in him (like we would have with characters like Ike, Mist, Soren, etc)... unless you supported him with Janaff.

In RD, Shinon has Gatrie and Rolf as bonded by defaults. These are basically internal bonds in RD - ones that aren't needed by supports. You can carry over support data from PoR to RD, and characters will receive a bond with the character they A supported. For some, like Ranulf and Ike, these bonds will be there regardless of if they got an A support.

That means that even without supporting them in PoR, Shinon will bonded to these two by default. Janaff is his only other support, so if they reach an A support and that data is carried over to RD, he now has his full list of supports bonded to him. Mind you, that's a liiittle bit of a big deal (and kinda cool to me!) as nobody else can do that (or almost nobody, since I'm not totally positive what Stefan and Volke's situations are and would have to check on that in my game, as the only other characters with an extremely low amount of supports).

So why do I say that's important? Because the only character he won't have by default as a bond is Janaff. You have to go out of your way to get their support bond (and when I say out of your way, I mean it pretty literally if you don't normally use one or both of them, due to how PoR's support system works). Janaff is the only character Shinon has to build up a bond with from scratch, which is something the player has to decide to do.

Gatrie and Rolf are the base - the bare minimum. It's given to you, no questions asked. Shinon doesn't have to develop as a person to have those bonds. When Janaff arrives in 3-7, if they were A supported in PoR (and your data was carried over), he and Shinon automatically have their bond show up in the bond list on each of their profiles as of the turn Janaff is on the map. This also means they can get a double A support, which is, again, something Shinon has very few options for.

Without Janaff, Shinon doesn't get that extremely direct development. In RD it's assumed all the characters had development of some sort (example, Shinon is much more chilled out and takes a much more active role in watching out for the GMs and making sure they're properly funded). However, with the way Shinon's development toward laguz went, you'd think something must have happened for him to change his mind.

However, it's an uncontestable fact that Ike stated everyone in the GMs decided to stay knowing full well they'd be fighting for the Laguz Alliance:

"I told the others they could leave if they didn’t want to work with laguz, but everybody decided they’d rather stay. Don’t worry about it, Ranulf."

If they didn't want to work with laguz (Shinon and Soren would be the primary candidates he brought this up for), they didn't have to go. They didn't have to take part. They didn't have to be there. Shinon decided to stay despite fully aware they would be the only beorc there. That's development already... but if he supported Janaff, it starts to make more sense and feels like a proper linear path for his development.

"But DCB, he was racist toward Lyre!" Sure! He's not perfect and there's still room for growth. In fact, Shinon started out calling her a sub-human but referred to her as a laguz when Gatrie was the only one left to hear him, so he either:

is trying to keep up appearances in front of laguz he doesn't like, using sub-human to their face but not using that term in private anymore (or to laguz he doesn't hate, i.e. Janaff in their A support where he catches himself about to use that term. Though he wasn't quite ready to say "laguz" yet, he stopped himself from using "you sub-humans" and instead said "you guys").

slipped up in using sub-human (from habit*) and called her a laguz when speaking to Gatrie because he's becoming more used to using that term regularly. That is to say, it's becoming more natural for him to say.

If you got his A support with Janaff, it makes sense that he slips up sometimes still but is trying to speak more properly about laguz. Getting out of old habits is hard. Feeling differently about something you've had a steady mindset for (in his case for 27 years as per his support with Janaff) is hard. There will be slip ups.

*It's possible Shinon uses "sub-human" as an insult aimed at individuals he doesn't like while not meaning it toward others (i.e. he doesn't like Kyza and Lyre). Yes, this is a big flaw! He could very well be using a racist term to express distaste toward someone specific but not mean it toward the whole of laguz. It's still racist and shouldn't be done, but the fact that he turned around and said "laguz" only a couple sentences later (if that) means that something is kicking in and some gears are turning.

Again, if you look at his A support with Janaff, he wasn't even at the point of using "laguz" at all! If you consider their A support part of his linear development, he starts as he is in PoR, supports Janaff and goes through their conversations while seeing laguz differently now, and ultimately ends at respecting Janaff. Despite this, he's not ready to use "laguz" yet because he experiences with laguz to date, prior to Janaff, had all been presumably negative enough for him to develop this racist mindset.

Linearly, that brings us to RD. He's suddenly fine staying with the GMs and fighting a war on behalf of the Laguz Alliance, even when he was directly given an out. Next, we have him refer to a laguz as a laguz - something he wasn't able to do yet in PoR.

Does the linear progression stop there? Not if you supported Janaff! Following those things, again, when Janaff arrives in 3-7, their bond will show up in their profiles. These bonds are separate from RD support bonds in that they're basically saying these characters were bonded before the events of RD and thus have special bonuses near each other, regardless of if you support them in RD.

So where does this lead us? Well, like in PoR, we start to lose focus on the GMs as a whole and only end up with focus on a few of them. Our next line of progression can only come from supports again. These are notable and extremely important if he's supported with a laguz.

If it's Janaff you support him with in RD, he gets one of his standard support quotes in battle. Maybe you're thinking that sounds unimpressive and unimportant... but this means he's responding to Janaff as someone he's familiar with and not treating differently from the others (which is not the case when responding to several others, which I'll get to). Normally you'd expect him to treat a laguz differently, but he speaks with Janaff like he would to any beorc.

It gives off an air of familiarity - like they already know each other, are passed all that nonsense and aren't even thinking about it anymore. This is, of course, the case regardless of if you supported them in PoR (but again, I find their PoR supports to be important in terms of a proper, full linear progression of Shinon's development, which is something not every character actually even gets, i.e. they don't get a fully fleshed out and ongoing development story between both games if they're not a main character).

It's almost like it's considering that you may have gotten their PoR supports. It has to leave it up in the air as to whether or not you did, because it'd be odd if he was suddenly treating Janaff like they weren't as familiar with each other after getting their PoR supports. In other words, by default, their relationship in RD is not as bad as it starts in PoR in their C support. It feels like they've already supported and are closer now to be at this point.

So why is it important that he acts no different with Janaff than anyone else? Because he does act different near laguz kings. He's given special, personalized lines to the laguz kings and refers to them sincerely as laguz. Important to note is that the laguz kings only become playable in part four (Tibarn and Naesala) and Endgame (Caineghis).

These are characters he would have absolutely no chance at having any development with in either game prior (even if you consider time spent in PoR, Tibarn and Naesala are not playable until the final chapter and you can only pick one of them. Caineghis, plain and simple, is not even an option). That means his supports with them are the very beginning of their relationship.

This is by part four. There's been development since part three in his character that we don't see. He's now openly referring to them as only "laguz" (remember, he was back and forth earlier in RD). He treats them with respect.

"But DCB, of course he does! They're kings! They're powerful!" But the Shinon we started out with in PoR wouldn't have cared less. To him back then a sub-human was a sub-human. Even as allies, he wouldn't have respected them (re: his C support with Janaff). Instead, here, in RD with these supports, he can talk with laguz directly, refer to them as such, and give them respect.

He also doesn't start out being intentionally racist toward them. He's at the point, by the time he can support the laguz kings, where he skips right past the active "sub-human" bullshit.

What do I mean by that? Well... I mean with Tibarn, he almost says sub-human but catches himself and doesn't just say "you guys" like he did with Janaff in their A support (which came before his C support with Tibarn if you consider his development linear and including Janaff). He corrects himself, and instead uses "a king" - similar to his "you guys" pull back, but outright referring to him as a king is actually a step above that (and again, this is their C support).

King Tibarn. It seems like a sub-hu– I mean–a king such as yourself can hold your own.

He's learning! He's growing! He's maturing! He's realizing he can get out of that mindset! All his experiences prior to PoR, based on his supports with Janaff, would imply he's only ever known that he has to protect himself against them. He never got to actually meet one. When he did, it was hard to pull himself out of old habits for new experiences. He was trying for Janaff, but he wasn't quite there yet. Here, he does something very similar.

With the other kings, he just outright refers to them as kings with no stumbles.

Hey, Lion King! Of anybody here, it seems like you’d be just fine.

Raven King, you seem all right. No need to be babied, I hope.

Mind you, the latter is pretty standard Shinon in personality. It's unrelated to Naesala being a laguz. However, both are these are completely respectful as a person talking to another person.

For his B supports we have:

I thought you were the all-conquering King Caineghis! And yet, you mess up. Bizarre. You better stay by me.

Hawk King, whew, even you mess up sometimes. Kinda makes me nervous. You better stay by me.

Raven King–your fighting? Not good. Just…stay by me and let me handle this.

Bizarre, he says, that one of the strongest people he knows is having trouble. He's actually surprised. No comment about how sub-humans suck or anything, not here!

Similarly, even Tibarn messes up sometimes. He's surprised. He expects basically perfectly from Tibarn (so this presumes he has positive expectations of him from what he knows of Tibarn).

Naesala's fighting isn't good? Well what does PoR Shinon care! Let him die! But that's not RD Shinon (and remember, these quotes could've been anything else considering he got specifically personalized quotes with these three, and personalized quotes for RD supports are somewhat few and tend to be for specific pairs).

Stay by me, he says! The same things he'll say to anyone! To any beorc and to any laguz. Again, personalized quotes did exist and they were there for certain pairs. Those pairs got special quotes specifically for their relationship). He didn't avoid saying "stay by me" just because they were laguz.

Mind you, his support quotes with these three are much more respectful than usual Shinon. He's very, uh, hilariously Shinon (there is a word for this, however at this time I cannot think of it 😔. I am not thinking of sarcastic, I am thinking of... something else. Granted, these lines are directed to Reyson and Rafiel, who technically can't fight... so I'll give him a break on that one) in most of his quotes, and some don't sound particularly respectful ("Prince ___, it’s really hard to watch you fight. Why don’t you stay by me and let me handle this?").

Now for the A supports (and BOY HOWDY I'M EATIN' GOOD HERE)...

You know, I’m not one for making friends and being nice. But, Caineghis, I gotta say, you are one bad laguz. In a good way! Hang in there.

I gotta admit… I didn’t like you when I first met you. But, Prince ___, I hope you make it through all this. I was wrong about you.

You know, I really don’t care who lives and who dies. But, Hawk King, for a laguz– hey, for anyone–you seem pretty decent. I hope you make it.

You know, I never thought I’d say this, but… King ___, I’m thinkin’ you should live. Don’t ask me why! Just a crazy notion. Maybe I like you?

Not one for making friends and being nice in general, with beorc, but he's befriending a laguz? Well now! What would PoR Shinon pre-Janaff say!

If you need me to explain the lines to Reyson and Rafiel to you, I have no hope for you at this point. If you can't read "I was wrong about you" and understand what that means, you might need to go back to school. In fact you definitely do.

For a laguz - no, scratch that because that doesn't fucking matter anymore - for anyone - you seem pretty decent (<-- this is the way Shinon talks to everyone).

Maybe he likes Naesala? Maybe they're friends? Maybe he just admitted he's fond of a laguz? Maybe he just said he likes a laguz??? Gosh jolly, early PoR Shinon is rolling in his grave!

So uhhh, what does this have to do with Janaff? Well, like I said, I feel like their supports slot perfectly into Shinon's development that's going to exist anyway. It's like the middle part of it that you get to see but also may miss out on. It's like jumping from PoR to RD and wondering what on earth happened in between to bring Shinon to that point... and if you consider his A support with Janaff, it makes sense that that's what happened. It fills that gap, and it also slots in perfectly with where he is in his development as a character between two games.

Timeline:

PoR start - Shinon hates laguz. He seems to hate them for reasons unknown. Greil dies; Shinon leaves. Chapter 18 is reached and Shinon is recruited back into the GMs. Despite that the GMs are now working with the Crimean army which has actively allied itself with the beast and bird tribes, Shinon whatevers his way through that fact and rejoins. He'll tolerate, he guesses. Fam is here.

Cue Janaff supports. New birb, who dis, except he's rude! Yes folks, it was Janaff who was rude first (his lines were also very Janaff... who is very like Shinon, so it makes sense that would get a negative reaction from Shinon even if he was a beorc). Shinon is set off and now thinks he was right to hate laguz. Look at this annoying birb face and his dumb lil hat!!! Better threaten to kill him just to be safe...

B support, they're having a conversation and learning from each other because Janaff came over to apologize. He knows he was in the wrong to nag at Shinon just for being an unfamiliar face. Shinon is still pissy though because it's a goddamn birb with a hat!!! Their conversation is a mix of ugh fuck this annoying guy to actually talking things out... and Shinon admitting why he hates laguz - because he's always needed to protect himself from "those half breeds". Sounds like his only experiences were very negative, so he ends up racist. Well, Janaff was also racist until very recently for similar reasons, and he used to think all beorc liked to kill. He, too, had misconceptions that bred a racist hatred. Now, though, with Shinon talking to him, he's realized he was wrong about beorc and is open to seeing things differently. Shinon backtracks, realizing he's having this conversation with the birb with a hat and wonders why.

A support, they talk more and it's getting better... and Janaff not only admits to relating to Shinon - which is a nice touch because they're two sides of the same coin who are both still very much learning about each other's races - and mind you Janaff was racist at 110 years old so he's been doing this shit for a while! It was because he talked with Shinon and learned more about beorc that, on top of what Ike did for Leanne, he's being more open minded now. Janaff, understanding where Shinon is coming from (ignorance and misconceptions), is much more polite and kind to him. Shinon, in response, backtracks when he almost uses the racist term "sub-human" so as not to offend Janaff, leaves off here respecting him and, when Janaff has to leave because the support is over, calls him back because he wants to hear more about the world from him because Janaff has lived for so much longer. Maybe the birb with the hat isn't so bad at all after all!!

From here the GMs fight with laguz allies until the end of PoR. Two or three years pass idk shit's inconsistent I guess, and we get to RD.

By this point Shinon has already been in an army that allied with and fought alongside laguz, and maybe that's tempered his feelings. When given an out from joining the other GMs in their aiding of the Laguz Alliance, and as the only beorc, he chooses to stay with the group.

At this point he's back and forth with "sub-human" and "laguz". There's definitely improvement, but old habits still get out sometimes. Still though, he's progressed from "you guys" to outright using "laguz".

The laguz kings join in the fight against Ashera. Shinon can support them, getting personalized quotes specifically for them (and for the herons). With Tibarn, he catches himself and corrects what he almost said - something he did once before with Janaff as per this linear timeline. That's the only instance left of a mistake in his wording. By now he's not using "sub-human" at all (B and A support with Tibarn or C-A with Caineghis or Naesala), or he's freely and without stumbling using "laguz" with no "you guys" esque backtrack.

This is obviously only one aspect of Shinon's development, i.e. the development of him growing out of racism similar to Janaff, and there are more aspects to him that did develop and grow throughout both games, but this post was specifically to highlight the importance of having Janaff there as part of his growth. Without it, it's like a blank, empty spot in his development where you don't know how it started happening and to such a degree (how did he go from outright using sub-human to using laguz at all? It feels like there had to be something in the middle of that growth, and without Janaff's supports it's just missing.

With them though, it's quite clear how he reasonably went from sub-human to "you guys" to laguz with some slip ups (ones that he corrects himself with if he actually respects the person, in this case Tibarn. He didn't bother correcting it with Lyre and Kyza because he didn't like them, which again, is still a flaw, but that was prior to his ability to support the laguz kings. It would be more reasonable to say he's starting to grow out of using "sub-human" just to specific people as an insult by this point.

Mans ain't perfect, but he's trying and he's working on it. Why is that without Janaff involved in his development? I 'unno, I guess he just had some random offscreen development between the games. With Janaff though? It actually works, fits and makes sense. It feels like that part of his development is meant to be there, as it compliments his development going forward.

that's it that's all i had to say bye now

[silverislander]

prof said congrats for writing up a proposal so early i am going to get a good grade in. well this is literally going to be graded. but yk the meme

[queenrinacat]

I work in emergency medicine, and I can tell you that a sense of doom is something we take extremely seriously. A sudden, overwhelming feeling of doom is a symptom of an imminent heart attack. When I worked 911 on an ambulance and a patient reported feeling like the world was about to end, or like they were going to die, even without any other symptoms? We rushed them to the hospital as fast as we possibly could.

I'm saying this from a place of genuine care: if you are seeing ghosts or shadows or having nightmares... and sageing, eggshells, Crystal's, and psychics arent cutting it..

Please.. please... check for things like gas leaks, water damage, vermin. I'm not saying your house isnt haunted, I'm just saying that carbon monoxide poisoning looks a LOT like being haunted.

[itmightneverbetherighttime]

...

[sabh0]

✨1K DTIYS RESULTS!✨

Everything is under the cut!!

Big thanks to everyone who participated! Didn't think there's gonna be so many entries, oh my,,

I decided to choose both winners with a wheel of fortune BC RAHH THERE'S JUST SO MANY GOOD WORKS!!! and i didn't want my bias to play a part, so i made two wheels: one with everyone, second with my favourite entries. Congratulations to the lucky people here 💛🙏

Most of the artists posted on Instagram, but here are some who have tumblr (and whom i didn't forget) (pls tell me if i forgot anyone):

@mantafangs @konbupie @i-eat-mold (shoesmustwearshoes on IG) @canidaria @kimetsu-chan @selendyne

[pantherxrogers]

hi I love your work can you please do a sugar daddy/boyfriend Mingi and what he will do for reader

blurb: sugar daddy!mingi x reader  ✧

🎀 pairing: mingi x fem!reader

🎀 warnings: suggestive, explicit language, mention of daddy kink

🎀 summary: spoiled!reader wants to bring all of her friends to coachella. mingi can't say no 🤭

🎀 a/n: tysm for your request! this was super fun (and challenging) for me to write as a san bias, lmao. i hope you love it! divider by @fairytopea

my masterlist (you can find the yunho and san versions here!)

This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent real events or the actual personalities of any K-pop idols mentioned. All characters and situations are purely imaginary. This story is created for entertainment purposes only, and no harm or disrespect is intended toward the idols or their fans. Enjoy!

“I reaaaaally miss you, Mingki,” you coo into the phone, knowing you’ve got him wrapped around your finger. That nickname always gets to him.

Fighting back giggles, you motion a quiet down to your friends, so your boyfriend can’t hear them on the other end. 

“I miss you too, baby,” he groans, knowing you’re about to get exactly what you want. But, if you ask him, he really can’t help it. Who is he to deny you?

“It’ll be so nice to see you, baby. Plus the girls really want to go to Coachella, too,” you whine, putting extra pout behind your words, playing it up for him. 

“Baby, I only asked for one press pass. I don’t know if I can get extras for your friends,” he added, hoping you’d drop it, but knowing he won’t be that lucky. 

Hidden away on the side of the practice stage, Mingi battles with himself on what he’s going to do next. The desert heat beats down on his neck, sweat accumulating in the oversized tee shirt and sweats he decided to wear for soundcheck. 

He very well could get more passes for your friends, but he already flew all of you out to Bora Bora because you wanted a girls weekend. If you’d come to California with him, he knew you’d be sitting around in the hotel room for most of the day. So, he paid for the trip without any complaints (like he always does). 

“You won’t do it for me?” You whine, putting on the dramatics.

Your friends are in near hysterics, laughing at your antics. They all know how much Mingi spoils you, and they actually find it kind of sweet. You see, Mingi is the type of boyfriend who spoils you beyond reason, but he likes to pretend he isn’t a total and complete pushover (he definitely is).

“Fuck, I’ve created a monster,” Mingi chuckles, already having made up his mind. You giggle softly, twirling your hair around the end of your finger, happy that you’ve won another battle. 

On the other end, Mingi glances up to see his captain motioning him back over, signaling the end of their short break. He holds up a hand, mouthing out I'm almost done. 

Your playful giggles steal his attention back, momentarily forgetting about the lengthy practice.

A warm blush heats Mingi’s cheeks, while he listens to your kisses through the phone.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, baby!” You squeal, dancing around with a bright smile. You motion a thumbs up to your friends, all of you cheering in victory. 

“I’ll send the jet to Bora Bora tomorrow morning, so you guys can get in early,” he announces, fighting to keep the smile off his face. He can still hear your excited giggles through the phone.

“Baby, are you listening?” He playfully chides, knowing how you get tunnel vision whenever he gives you what you want.

“Private jet, Coachella, blah blah blah,” you joke, Mingi answering you with a laugh. 

You step away from your friends for a moment, heading into the villa’s primary bedroom. 

“I really am grateful, baby. I can't wait to see you,” you confess, heart racing at the thought of seeing your boyfriend tomorrow. You fiddle with the Cartier love ring on your index finger, smiling at the memory of when he gifted it to you.

“Maybe I should just fly you out tonight,” he sighs, equally impatient to see you. 

“Mmmm, I would say yes buuuuuut,” Mingi huffs, "We have one more shopping day planned,” you mutter, remembering the Goyard bag you had your eye on yesterday. 

“Babe, you’ve been shopping the whole trip,” he argues, remembering the multiple notifications he got from his credit card company.

“I know, but I saw this bag yesterday and couldn’t make up my mind about it. I really want it now,” you whine, going into more detail as Mingi listens to your rambling with a smile. 

“Do you trust me, baby?” He questions, the wheels already turning in his head. 

“Of course,” you answer honestly, confused at the sudden change of subject. 

“Then, be ready for the driver to pick you up in two hours. I want you to myself for a night before your friends get here,” he asserts, the low rumble in his voice causing a warmth to spread over your body. 

You bite your lip before answering him, torn between the bag and the need to see your boyfriend as soon as possible. The both of you know which one you’ll pick in the end.

“Okay,” you sigh, “I’ll see you tonight,” a wide smile spreading across your face at the thought. 

“Good girl,” he coos, making you squirm against the plush mattress beneath you. 

“I love you, daddy,” you whisper, warmth flooding your cheeks at the title. Mingi chuckles to himself, fascinated by your sudden shyness.

“I love you too, baby girl. See you soon,” his voice is like gravel now, while he tries his best to not get carried away in public like this. 

He ends the phone call with a click, before sending a quick text to his manager. 

📱: Need a favor. Gonna need the private jet tonight and tomorrow. Also contact the Bora Bora sales associate for me. I need him to overnight a Goyard bag.

[heeseungwifey]

I'll pick you up - Park Sung Hoon

pairing: idol!Sunghoon x y/n

warnings: contains smut! Minors don’t interact pls

Is a well-known fact by kpop fans that once an idol gets their driving license it means they’re having sex. Since they live in a dorm shared with their group members, they have no other choice but to fuck in the backseat of a car. 

Sunghoon is one of those idols. Annoyed he has to share a bedroom with the other 6 members of Enhypen, he got tired of having no privacy and got into driving classes ASAP. It was quite easy for him to pass the test, since he’s very skillfull and has learnt a lot from driving video games. 

How does he get girls? easy, he can pick and choose at all the fanmeets, in which many fans would slide their phone numbers in tiny pieces of paper between the album pages when he’s gonna sign them. 

He often turns them away, scared of getting into a scandal. But, from time to time, he sees one fan he wishes he could call and meet up with. That's why he was so keen to get his driving licence so that he wouldn't have to wait so long.  

At the very first fanmeet Enhypen did after he passed the driving test, he was expectant of who was in the crowd. Many girls showed up, excited and happy to get an interaction with their favorite member of the group. As the fans sit down on the chairs in front of them, Sunghoon spots a girl with long dark hair and an angelic aura. She's a fan of his, a T-shirt with his picture on it and a banner with his name on it. Lucky him.

The queue moves way slower than he wishes, making him desperate to greet her. When he sees she’s already talking to one of the members, he can no longer focus on what he’s doing. All his signatures look like scribbles and he keeps forgetting the name of the fan in front of him. After many apologies, she’s right in front of him.

-Hello! What’s your name? - Sunghoon says as he stares at her while she sits on the chair in front of him. 

-Y/n - She says, shy and blushy, avoiding his eyes.  

- Y/n… a very pretty name - Sunghoon looks directly into her eyes, wanting to keep eye contact with her. 

-Thank you… - She looks at him and now she can’t stop giggling and darting her eyes from one side to the other of the room. 

-And tell me y/n… I see you’re wearing my face on your T-shirt. Am I your favourite?- Sunghoon smirks. 

-Yes, you are. Since the very beginning, I knew I wanted to be your fan. - she has sparkles in her eyes, enjoying talking about her dear bias.

-Good to know I have such loyal fans. You know, I have to admit you are also been my favourite since you walked in here. You’re beautiful. - Sunghoon lowers his voice and gets closer to her ear, freezing her on the spot. 

-Ahm… that’s, that’s… uhm I don’t know what to say… about that… ahm… - y/n gets surprised by a timer, indicating the time of their brief talk is over. 

Y/n doesn’t want to get up from the chair. She still has something to give to him. She looks at him in the eyes and shakes the pages of the album he just signed in front of him, a piece of paper falling from the inside. 

Sunghoon couldn’t be happier. He was worried she might be a fan who thought didn’t have a shot with him. She does, oh my god how much she does. He couldn’t think of anything or anyone else throughout the whole day. With her phone number written on a piece of paper in the bottom of his pocket, waiting for him to get off work.

When Sunghoon got to the dorms, he stared at his phone waiting to gather the courage to call her. He knows she wants to meet up with him, that’s why she gave him her phone number in the first place. So why was he feeling so doubtful? 

Sunghoon picks up his damn phone and calls her, jumping with every dial tone. When he’s about to give up, a voice on the other line answers:

-Hello…? Who’s this? - y/n answers the phone and Sunghoon can hear voices in the background, a male voice standing out from all of them. Is she with a dude right now? Isn’t she a fan of him? Why did that bother him so much?

Sunghoon thought about hanging up the call. It’s whatever. She has her own life, of course she’s not gonna be waiting for him to call her. When she repeats herself for the third time, he decides to just try it, this is not about catching feelings but a one-night stand with a groupie. 

-Hi! y/n, this is Sunghoon. Do you have a minute?

-Omg, what?! I had the feeling it could be you, I don’t know why... this is a strange hour to call someone don’t you think?

-I want to see you. I’ll pick you up wherever you are right now. You up?

There’s silence on the other side of the call. She’s thinking. She’s not stupid, it’s obvious what this is about. She has to decide whether to leave her dignity aside or be happy. She now chooses to be happy. 

-Sure! I'm in Itaewon right now with a bunch of friends. I was going to go home in fifteen minutes, but I can leave now… Is it okay for you?

-I’ll pick you up outside of the metro station. 5 minutes and I’m there. 

Sunghoon hangs up, not even letting her answer. With a bunch of friends? His ass. Sure there’s some dude in that friend group that has been trying to make moves on her since they met. Women are so naive. He couldn’t have a girl friend that looked like that. A doll straight out of a magazine. The most beautiful woman he has ever seen, and sure he has seen a lot of pretty girls at award shows. It’s gonna take a lot for him to forget about that man’s voice, reminding him that this is just gonna be a one-time thing. Or that’s what he tells himself.

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

He’s already waiting outside the metro station. There are a lot of people on the street since is a Friday night and everyone’s enjoying their free time drinking and going to clubs. He has done that a bunch of times but got so scared of getting caught that didn’t enjoy it one bit. 

A girl in a miniskirt and high heels walks alone around the entrance of the metro station, waiting for someone. Sunghoon realizes that he didn’t give any indication of how his car looks, and she doesn’t have a way of contacting him. Sunghoon curses at himself for being so careless, picking up his phone and calling her. 

-y/n I’m here. - Sunghoon observes as y/n looks around, looking for a car. 

-Hi! Ahm… What colour is your car? I swear there are so many people here It’s driving me crazy.

-Hold on, let me get out of the car and get you.

-That’s not necessary, just…

Sunghoon double-parks and gets fast in front of her. She looks gorgeous. Her eye makeup, sparkly and feminine and rosy cheeks. She seems to be a bit cold, so Sunghoon takes his coat off to put it on her. 

-You really didn’t need to get out, your car is pretty noticeable haha. If you had told me to look for the most expensive car around here, I would have walked to yours. 

-It would not be very gentlemanly of me to just wait for you in the car. Come on, let’s get inside, you’re gonna get cold. 

Sunghoon puts his hand on her shoulder, leading her to his car and opening the door for her. This is the least he can do, he sure does not plan on being a gentleman when they get in the backseat. But for now, he’s gonna give her a great time. 

He has a plan that although cliché, is still romantic. There’s a viewpoint in the Hannam-dong Hill in which one can park their car. That’s where he is headed. 

-So, where are we going? - y/n asks, turning to look at him curiously. 

-It’s a surprise. Just get comfortable. Is a 10-minute drive there. 

-May I ask you… why me? I know I gave you my phone number, but this is the craziest thing that has ever happened to me. 

Sunghoon looks at her, her body language showing an insecure side of her that Sunghoon rather than offputting finds charming and attractive. Constantly being surrounded by women who just care about their looks and are rather egocentric, y/n is just a normal girl. A gorgeous normal girl, with long legs and a pretty, pretty face. 

-Just because. Can’t I just want to spend my Friday night in your company? Since you're my fan, you might know a lot about me. I wanted to know more about you.

Y/n smiles from the passenger seat, charmed by his response. Although Sunghoon hadn’t prepared it, he was quite happy about how smooth that sounded. Guess he’ll get more experience once he starts doing this more often. 

The Spotify playlist is playing low on the car radio, giving a great ride for both. By the time Sunghoon gets to the viewpoint, y/n has already deciphered his plan. 

-Oh, the Hannam-dong hill, how fancy… I love this place, it’s such a beautiful sight of the Han River. Look, there’s a boat over there!

Sunghoon knows it was a good decision to come here. She seems so excited, pointing at the buildings and boats that can be seen from over there. With her flushed nose from the cold and his huge coat on her, his heart feels a warmth that scares him. What is he feeling right now for a girl he just met?

Overwhelmed by her cuteness, Sunghoon turns his mindset to the plan. This is not a date, he came here to fuck her. The faster he’s done with it, the earlier he can go to his dorm without having to give any explanations. 

-Y/n, get in the car. -He says coldly and gets in the backseat of his car, waiting for her to do the same. 

Y/n walks to the door of the back of the car. Slowly opens it, getting in with a cold breeze, looking at Sunghoon in the eyes just as he’s doing. The car is dark, with the only source of light being the streetlights.

Y/n realizes that her miniskirt has ridden up while sitting, revealing her thigh highs.  She attempts to cover them by pulling her skirt down, but Sunghoon stops her. His hands roam her legs, getting closer and closer. 

-May I… kiss you? - Sunghoon is focused on her lips, some lip tint still on them. She thought there was no use in reapplying before the date, so she just left them like that. 

-Sure… please do it - y/n didn’t have to say anything else, Sunghoon jumping to kiss her.

His hands were only on her thighs at first, but as the kiss got deeper he groped her ass and sat her on his lap. The miniskirt, now a belt pooling on her waist, and her hands all in his hair, pulling on the roots. 

The atmosphere feeling heavy, y/n had to take a breath. Grabbing Sunghoon by the neck and pushing him away, a string of saliva left behind, connecting them. He looks confused, as he might have not realised something have made her uncomfortable. 

-Are you good? Did something happen? - y/n just has her eyes closed, breathing and leaning her head back on the driver’s headrest. 

-No, just… take your shirt off. - Sunghoon follows her command immediately, his pale chest on display for her eyes to see. 

-Okay, I didn’t know this was gonna happen today so don’t laugh… - He raises an eyebrow, not understanding what she means. When y/n takes her top off, her breasts are cupped by a Hello Kitty bra, which makes Sunghoon giggle. 

-I told you not to laugh… - y/n pokes his cheek, giggling along with him. 

-You know what, I can fix it right now, don’t worry. - His hand goes to her back and unclasps her bra, her boobs bouncing free from the cute undergarment. 

Open-mouthed, he had never been in front of such pretty tits, taking her perky nipple to his mouth while he looks at her face. Y/n throws her head back, moaning in pleasure as she moves her hips, the feeling of his tongue connecting straight to her core. 

Sunghoon feels his hard-on rubbing inside his pants and it hurts bad, opening his pants and pulling them down to free his member, creating a tent on his boxers. Y/n whines at the sight, she knew he wasn’t average-sized but seeing in real life it sure seems big and girthy. 

-Hoon, I want to… help you with that - y/n gets off him as she places herself to give him head, being stopped. Sunghoon flips her by the legs so she’s on her back, laying on the seat while he hovers over her. 

-Such a good girl… wanting to take the lead. I’m sorry, this is my car, I make the decisions here.

Sunghoon gives a trail of kisses from her jaw to her belly button, licking her nipples on the way down. When he gets to her underwear, he just presses his pointy nose and smells, groaning.

-Delicious… uhm, the things I have been thinking of doing to you while in this position…  I don’t think I get to do them all today. - Sunghoon is hissing while he palms himself, enjoying the warmth of his head between her legs. 

-Please Hoon, take them off… it hurts - she’s rubbing her legs, trying to do something with the awful ache she has. 

Sunghoon peels her panties off, placing them on the headrest and pushing her legs to the side, so she opens them more and he gets to see her glistening pussy. His sight right now is to die for, the prettiest girl he has ever seen with watery eyes and rosy cheeks, open-legged for him. 

His mouth goes directly to it, savouring all of it as he licks, her moans making it difficult for him to concentrate. She grabs his hair, trying to keep him there as she’s feeling closer and closer to the climax. 

Inserting two fingers, Sunghoon works hard for her release, often looking at her to see her eyes rolling back and teeth biting her lip, trying to stop screaming. He might love blowjobs but, the pleasure it gives seeing a woman fall into madness as she contorts and whines would never compare. 

With loud screams and nonsensical sentences, Sunghoon knows he needs to keep working hard for her sweet venom to hit his tongue. Once she comes, she twists in pleasure, crying and tired of the cardio. 

Y/n lays there, heavy breathing and covering her eyes with her forearm, while Sunghoon cleans her by sticking his fingers and licking them. After a minute of gentle tummy rubs, he kisses her, grabbing her by the arms and sitting her up. 

-Hey pretty? Are you game over? - As hard as he might be now, he can’t help but think it is endearing how exhausted she seems, wishing he could just watch her sleep for a bit.

-I’m good, it’s just that it was so… strong. I have never come like that before. 

-I’ll take that as a compliment for my incredible labour. Hey, listen, if you’re too tired I can get you home and just…

-No, I’m good. I’m not getting out of here just yet. Aren’t you gonna fuck me? - she tilts her head and Sunghoon lets a laugh out, brushing her hair out of her face. 

Y/n grabs Sunghoon’s face with two hands and kisses him with passion, french kissing and their tongues up to each other's throats. She hops on his lap, her wet folds damping his boxer while she rubs herself. 

After licking and playing with her tits while making out, Sunghoon can no longer endure the pain on his member. He remembers that, before this date, he bought condoms and left them inside the glove box of his car. 

-Y/n hey… I need you to do me a favour - Sunghoon says as he keeps on peppering kisses on her face and upper body.

-Uhm, tell me… - she has her eyes closed while she answers, fisting his hair while he sucks on her nipples. 

-I have condoms… in the glove box… can you pick them for me from here?- He looks up, straight into her eyes. 

-Sure. Hold on, let me flip over. - She crosses her leg over his lap, now sitting the other way around, a nice view of her ass and back for Sunghoon. 

He holds her by the hips as he elongates over to the glove box of the car, thankful nobody was around to see her naked. On the back of the car, the windows are tinted but at the front, anyone could see her. 

She grabs the box and hands it to Sunghoon, who takes no time in opening it and ripping the wrapping of a condom to put it on. He taps her asscheek and she stands up, waiting for him to pull his underwear down, letting his member free. 

-Do you want me to put it in? - Sunghoon slaps his dick on her leg, asking for consent. 

-Of course I do! ... And if you don’t do it now I’ll do it myself… please Hoon, do it already! - It’s funny to Sunghoon how cute and sweet she seemed to him that morning at the fansign and how now she’s now begging for his cock in the backseat of his car. He loves girls like that, with duality. 

Not even a minute passes but y/n is already grabbing his member and sticking it in herself, her face of pleasure visible from the rear mirror. He needs to stop looking if he wants to last more than five seconds, her open mouth and furrowed eyebrows too much for him to look at. 

He instead focuses on her ass slapping on his thighs, wiggling with the movement. He grabs her by the hair lightly, pulling her to his chest while she keeps on moving. She grips the headrest in front of her with two hands, to help her keep on bouncing up and down. 

As soon as she gets tired and her movements become sloppier, she begins to whine for Sunghoon’s help, and he swiftly places her laying on the backseat, now in missionary position. 

With the windows steamed up from the heat in the car, they look into each other's eyes in the midst of the most passionate sex encounter they've ever had. They moan in unison, their skin sticking and a moist sound coming from where they connect. 

-So.. fucking good… I can’t let you go just yet… this can’t be the end… arghh… - Sunghoon is feeling anxious, with his and her climax approximating, he knows the end of this is coming. And he’s only wishing for this to last forever. 

-I’m…I’m…not going…anywhere, it’s… okaaay Hoon - Even though she can't say a complete sentence, what she means is true. If he's afraid of this ending, she's afraid it's the last time she'll ever see him again. It may be a great memory to cherish forever, but it's heartbreaking to think that it’ll never be repeated.  

She understands, from the moment she heard his voice on the phone until now, she knows her role. She’s a one-night stand, a groupie, a slut. She took the offer and left her dignity and integrity at Itaewon, trading her respect for herself for a quick fuck with a man who might not even care about her.

This is the first time she has done this. She has only had sex with men she was in a relationship with. Although nowadays is not a big deal, she promised herself she would take care of her body, never letting anyone have their way with her if they didn’t love her. 

But why is Sunghoon being way gentler than the men she swore loved her? Why does he look into her eyes with passion, fondness and warmth? Is he a psycho?

They both hold hands as they come, y/n first and then Sunghoon, falling on top of her and resting his head on her chest while she embraces him with her arms and legs. The car feels hot, perfect for them to have a quick nap in this position and not freeze in the cold of the night. 

At 4:30 am, after they’ve gotten dressed, they go to a convenience store, where they both pick onigiris and ramyun, hopping back into the car to eat. 

Sunghoon stares at y/n as she eats well the onigiri, hungry from all the exercise. A smile scapes from the corner of his lips, getting y/n’s attention. 

-What’s so funny? Do I have mayo on my face? - She looks into the rear mirror, checking. 

-No no, you don’t, I just think you’re so cute - Sunghoon pinches her cheek, laughing.

-Funny how you can still think that about me… tonight has been quite enlightening about my true self. -y/n looks outside of the passenger’s seat window. 

-You can be cute and have a good ride… to me that just makes you ten times hotter. I don’t know if you’re under the wrong impression, but I liked what we did tonight.

-It’s just… I have never done this before, I swear. I just like you so much that I had to… say yes. 

Sunghoon shouldn’t feel guilty, but he does. Without wanting, he pressured her into doing this. It made him insecure, and even though he does consider himself a handsome man, maybe he shouldn’t use his fame to meet up with girls, his fans.

-Sorry, if you felt pressured to meet up with me, I didn’t mean to… fuck, I feel like shit now. 

-Sunghoon that’s not… what I meant at all. It’s the best thing that has happened to me, the best time I’ve ever had. I am just afraid of what you might think about me now…

Her hand, which was rubbing his neck softly, stops. Sunghoon looks at her, a tint of shock in his eyes. So that is what this is all about. She’s scared he thinks she’s some sort of whore. When he has never felt this much intimacy, or connection… with anyone. Not even with some girlfriends in the past.

-Hey, what the fuck… what I think about you? C’mon, I would be an asshole if I thought shit about you. Y/n, all I know is that… if you ever wanted to meet up again, I’d cancel everything just to pick you up.

-Yeah, I guess so… to meet and do this again, right? That’s what I thought. You know, I wouldn’t feel good about that. - y/n looks outside the window, trying to end eye contact with Sunghoon, feeling betrayed by herself. 

- I mean as a date, y/n. If you wanted to meet, I would do it in a heartbeat just to see you again. We might have to hide, you know, so people don’t see us, me, around… don’t feel pressured to say yes this time, I just want you to know that I like your company before anything else. 

She looks at him, wondering if she should believe him. While it sounds sincere it also seems impossible for them to become something. He grabs her hand and kisses it, soft warm lips getting in touch with her cold skin. 

-We could try… Sunghoon, is safe to say that I love you… as an idol, and I don’t want to kill that version of you. A man who’s so passionate and caring about everything he does… please don’t hurt me and make me hate you…

-I would never do that, ever. I swear to you, y/n I’ll take the chance and never let it go… just, let’s try. Okay?

He holds both her hands now. And with that “okay”, she feels she could trust him. Now she feels like it was meant to happen, giving him her number, picking up the phone call… everything is connected. 

She gets closer to him and gives him a kiss, exciting Sunghoon who suddenly deepens the kiss, like a starved man that has been waiting decades for it. She reciprocates, minutes of the most loving kiss any of them have ever had. And of which there will be many more in the future. 

[iuchamjohta]

Leave these woman alone ft Yuna

1400 words

Notes: Hi anon thanks for your request, since it’s sent through the request box 😊 here’s a story dedicated for you. Also I will do Yuna justice with a better fic eventually don’t worry! (Yes this is a mix of shade and partial smut i guess) Did'nt proof read this thing cause it aint worth my time. For those who wants to read for the smut you can ignore the first two and last two paragraphs they arent for u but specially for my dear requester XD

First person POV of anon:

My name is Anon. I work a standard 9-5 job and have been doing so for 30 years. I’m a single and have never dated. Everyday I get scolded by my boss but I turn a deaf ear to it , just going through the motion of my routine life. Things however get exciting once I get home. I can induldge in my deepst darkest fantasies.

You see while on the surface, I'm a white knight in shiny armor, beneath that, I'm a self-righteous hypocritical man, living a double life. I've got an entire collection dedicated to Yuna, my ultimate bias, stashed away in a folder on my laptop, hidden deep within a secret folder, safely encrypted with a password only I know. It's my little haven, my sanctuary—a place where I can indulge in my wildest fantasies, free from judgment. I mean, who doesn't have their celebrity crushes, right? But for me, it's more than just a crush. Yuna is my fantasy. She's the one who makes me question my self-control.

The room is dimly lit, perfect for what I have in mind. I pull up a recent fancam from her solo performance.. There she is, in a low-rise jeans that showcased her hourglass figure, strutting across the stage with sheer confidence. The camera zeroes in on her for a solo performance, the lucky bastards in the audience probably have no idea how fucking lucky they are. Her eyes glint with confidence, as if seducing me and sending a wave of anticipation through my body. I bite my lip, feeling my dick twitch in anticipation. It's one of those days when I crave a release, a day dedicated to worshipping her perfect body.

Yuna is everything I want and more. Her magnetic aura draws me closer to the screen as she seductively sways to the music. Every curve of her body is sculpted by the gods themselves. I zoom in, wanting to explore every inch of her, starting from her face. Her huge eyes, her full lips that always look succulent, begging for me to take them. Her skin, pale in complextion that glows under the stage lights. I'd kill to know what she smells like, if she tastes as sweet as she looks. Her long legs they begged to be worshipped.

Her hair, cascading in soft waves, frames her face, occasionally whipping her forehead as she moves, making my fingers itch to run through it, to feel its silkiness between my fingertips. Her crop top reveals just the right amount of skin and her incredibly sexy midriff. They hug her chest tightly. I imagine pinching those rosy nipples, already knowing from countless fantasies that they'd harden instantly. The thought sends a jolt of lust straight to my cock.

The camera follows her every move, and she's teasing the fans mercilessly. She bends down, the low-rise jean - hugging every inch of her toned thighs and plump ass, highlighting the perfect hour glass figure. God, her ass! It's a work of art, rounded and firm, a sight that has me gripping my cock, stroking slowly as I imagine sinking my face into that soft flesh. The way she reveals her cleavage, The way her muscles flex under those jeans makes my mouth go dry. She knows what she's doing, the little tease. Each flick of her hips is a silent invitation to something forbidden.

As the song progresses, so does my hand on my shaft. I can't stop picturing her riding me, those long, toned legs wrapped around my waist. Her abs clench and relax with each provocative move, the sight alone nearly pushing me over the edge. The sweat glistening on her skin, the way it would feel slick under my palms as I hold her hips, grinding into me, fuck, it consumes me. I want to be the reason for her sweat, for her moans.

The performance builds up, and so does my pace. My breathing quickens, mirroring her heavy pants as if we're in sync. I can imagine the lust matching my own as she moves her hair behind her back, giving me a perfect view of her slender neck and the pulse point that makes my mouth water. A collarbone looks so defined and my hands would look so fucking perfect there, pushing her down unto my cock. My cock twitches, the thought of owning this goddess in the bedroom flooding my mind. I want to see her—no, I need to see her submissive side, her begging for more, on her knees, her pretty eyes pleading for me to take control.

I can't resist the urge anymore. I pause the video at the part where she's bending forward offering an eyeful of her cleavage and a hint of her flat stomach. The image fills the screen,  letting me examine every detail. From her perfect breast that I imagine running my tongue all over, to her navel, a shallow indent, a tempting destination for my tongue. I'd work my way downward, hearing her whimpers as I trace patterns on her sensitive skin, marking her with love bites along the way until I reach her wet core. With my other hand, I reach for the lube, needing more sensation. I coat my fingers and continue imagining my tongue's path, heading south past her navel to the place she craves attention. I'd tease her, running my fingers through her wetness, finding her clit, driving her wild. And when she's close, I'd sink two fingers into her, feeling her heat, her tightness, while I suck on that perfect neck, leaving my mark. Her moans would fill the room, echoing off the walls, telling me she's mine.

But, Yuna she's a master at denying satisfaction. The clip cuts just as I can see her biting her lip, probably holding back a moan. That's when my stroking gets wilder. I jerk off fiercely, imagining her on all fours, that ass in the air, begging for my cock. In my mind, I'd stand behind her, taking in the view before delivering hard thrusts, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. She loves rough, I know that much. I want to spank that ass, watch it jiggle with each impact, watch her pussy squeeze my dick, milking me.

"Fuck, Yuna," I groan, my vision blurring as pleasure spikes. I see her looking over her shoulder, those eyes half-lidded, knowing she's craving it harder. In my fantasy, I'd tug her hair, making her submit, taking her like an animal. I increase the pace, my balls tightening, then I would reach my peak, exploding with sensation. I come violently, coating my hand and the screen, wishing it was her that I coated instead.

Panting, I lean back, my heart hammering in my chest as I relish the aftermath. The image of her winking at the camera as she says her farewells plays in my head, and I know I'll be back for more—she's my addiction. Cleaning up, a satisfied smile on my face, I wonder if she has any idea the effect she has on me, if she knows she just gave me the best fucking handjob ever. Little does she know, this 'nobody' behind the screen is more than willing to show her how good it could be in reality.

Maybe one day, she won't just be a fantasy, but until then, I'll keep worshipping her on my screen.

Then with this guilty pleasure, I find the need to claim her as mine and "protect" her. Going unto forums, I tell myself I have to put back on my knight in shiny armour image! Telling everyone else to leave all these woman alone especially Yuna.

To me pornography is okay, I have fapped to many of it, nor do I see the need to email all these pornographic companies on what they are doing though more damaging is wrong. Other sexual fantasies are okay, but when it comes to others fantasising about my idols, I have to be defensive since they are my life even though I would never reach them. This is me, a double standard hypocritical white knight, a nameless nobody in my life. Nonetheless, this secret is safe with me, and as long as I live, I shall continue to remain self-righteous on the outside while indulging in my secret fantasies.

Thanks for your request once again! Yes me being an internet troll, anyways not the best smut I have written I apologise. Okay fuck now I actually need to do justice by releasing a proper Yuna fic . Please send ideas for req on Yuna guys a one time offer that the best idea gets it’s fic written on her.

[diorctrl]

MUSIC BANK HOST : idol!enha x idol! reader

𓂂 ˳ enhypen maknae line genre: idol au, fluff, different scenarios warnings: intentional lower case, hyung line

kim seonwoo ( 김선우 )

୨୧ 𓂂 ˳ you’re apart of formis_9, you’re also sunghoon’s little sister. you’re the youngest of formis and it’s been a known thing that you have crush on sunoo but everyone just brushed it off as the “little sister having a crush on big brothers friend.” thing but NO you were sure that you were going to marry this man but he never payed you much mind but he obviously knew about your little(HUGE) crush on him every one knew so he wasn’t fazed when he was told that he would be your mc partner, he would just have to do his normal routine of completely ignoring your advances but this time it was different.

“sunoo oppa..” yn trails off looking up at the older boy, he looks at you confused because it was obvious that you were going off script, “you look handsome today, you always look handsome but you look extra handsome today.” she flirts leaning close to him, sunoo’s face heated up slightly because you’ve never been this bold before but the only that he could do was flirt back so it doesn’t throw the mood off and from that day it became your dynamic when you were mcing, you guys would flirt like crazy in front of the camera to the point that it seeping into your regular lifestyle to the point that sunoo has been wondering if he should finally give you a chance (HE DID!)

yang jungwon ( 양정원 )

୨୧ 𓂂 ˳ you’re apart of new jeans, and just like jungwon you were on the younger side but was you were the leader of the group. with that in thought jungwon had immediately taken a liking towards you even though you’ve never interacted but he was interested in you because you both had something in common (+ you were insanely pretty in his opinion) but with you guys never interacting jungwon was shocked when he found that you yourself personally asked for him to fill in for your mc partner that would be away because in his mind you didn’t even know he existed but little did he know…

“you did so good today!” you exclaimed smiling big at jungwon as you guys wrapped up filming, your smile made his heart flutter a little and he smiled softly at you and thank you. “I knew you would do good, that’s why chose you.” you said, making pride grow in his chest, “really?” he asked. “yeah, you’re my bias in enhypen,” you say nudging him causing jungwon’s face to heat up, “and you are pretty cute as well..” jungwo felt like he was on fire, “you think im cute?” he asks like it’s the most unbelievable thing in the world. “yeah,” you said with a nonchalant shrug, “and I also would like to hand out with you more.”

oh how lucky was he.

nishimura riki ( 西村リキ )

୨୧ 𓂂 ˳ you’re apart of baby monster , riki was first introduced to you through the introduction that yg posted for the series of the groups journey, he immediately took a liking towards you and your dancing it was obvious that you were going to be his bias if you debut with the group, he routed for you secretly the whole time and his members never mentioned the new group that was being formed so he thought he was the only one that knew about you untill he heard jake on the phone with someone who sounded awfully like you and riki being the curious person that he was asked the older member who he was talking to and his mouth dropped when jake said that he was talking to his cousin about the new episode that yg uploaded. riki couldn’t believe it yn was jakes cousin and if there’s one thing he knew is that he had to use that to his advantage to get to you and he definitely did by stealing your number from Jake’s phone and texting you a weird pick up line and one thing lead to another and BOOM you’re his girlfriend. one thing that shocked the work is how fast you got an mc job after debut and that yg actually let you be an mc for music bank just a few weeks after debut and you were soooo popular which meant you were on high demand, everyone wanted a piece of the new it girl and riki had to sit there at watch.

riki scowled at his screen as he watched some boy from a group flirt with you as you interviewed them did they have no manners? oh how he wanted to just jump through the screen and cause havoc. “hey!” he jumped when his door opened to reveal you walking over to his bed in more comfortable clothes from the ones you were wearing this morning, he took a look at you before turning around burying his head in his pillow not even looking up when he felt the weight in of you laying on his back, “what’s wrong?” you asked putting your chin on his shoulder, he only responded with a muffled nothing. “Come on I know something is wrong.” you say making it known that you’re not going to give up making riki let out a sigh, “I don’t like how these guys are acting towards you, flirting with you as if you have a boyfriend.” he says frowning when you let out a small giggle, “oh, so you’re jealous?” “I’m not- yeah I am.” his response makes you laugh even more, “riki, you don’t have to worry about those boys, all I care about is you.” “really?” “really.” you respond softly causing a smile to break onto his face, “now come on let’s go get food.”

[serana666]

Getting on my soapbox about something I think is REALLY important for chronically ill ppl to think about.

Being undiagnosed and disabled is a terrible experience. You’re screaming into the medical void for ANYONE to please SEE YOU and help. You start thinking “is it just me? Could it just be in my head? What’s wrong with ME?”

And I’m here to tell you, it’s 👏🏻NOT YOU👏🏻 it’s THEM. (The doctors)

I have been through the grueling process of becoming totally disabled by chronic illness, without knowing what it could be. I picked up diagnosis’ along the way: RA, then lupus, then fibro. And I am LUCKY that my blood worked with me to show those things, not everyone is so lucky.

I kept thinking (foolishly buying into the narrative doctors try and sell you) that if I could just get a *serious* diagnosis I would finally be given access to the care I needed, that ALL disabled people need. That was never the case at any step in the process.

When I was diagnosed with RA and began having symptoms outside of it, that were completely debilitating my rheumatologist told me I just needed more exercise and activity. I told them specifically I had fatigue so strong that I was loosing the ability for basic functioning.

When I found a new rheumatologist and was diagnosed with lupus I thought my troubles were over. Then she started saying weird shit like “do you have a boyfriend? You’re so pretty!”

She found out I was a lesbian when I brought my girlfriend to my appointment to be my advocate. Her whole demeanor changed to me and I spent 6-8 months with her receiving no treatment. They kept saying “oh it’s the insurance” nope they sent me letters telling me this office was not following up.

So I moved to a blue state literally out of fear that I would die waiting on these bigoted doctors. I got a rhum in a blue state. I was diagnosed with secondary fibro. Again, I foolishly believed I would finally be in the clear. No, she still minimizes and blinks at me when I describe my pain.

Doctors are not our allies, even though they should be above all else. They find ANY excuse to minimize us. So if you are someone who is undiagnosed or with a diagnosis that is misunderstood/not taken seriously , they will milk that for all it’s worth. 👏🏻ITS NOT YOU👏🏻

I’ve seen people in disabled communities minimized for their race, their weight, their gender, their sexuality/queerness, their age, their diagnosis or the lack thereof, ITS NOT YOU!

You know your body, and the pain you feel BETTER than any doctor that has been trained to systemically ignore you!

Don’t let them tell you what your reality is. It’s such a knee jerk reaction for minorities to do this to themselves.

You deserve medical care that isn’t contingent on your doctors bias’. We NEED more empathy. Don’t let their disregard for your life leak into the love you NEED to give yourself. 💕

[mywifealhaitham]

pre release boothill relationship headcanons!!!

a/n: I'm fiending off crumbs... I've wanted to read some x reader of him but theres none so I gotta write it myself. I hope the other 4 boothill fans enjoy

warnings: gn!reader, like 2 gendered pet names (pretty girl/boy), most of this is written with bias because we don't have alot to go off, obviously written prerelease, when we actually get content of him I'll definitely be rewriting

LEAKS AHEAD!!!

bc: Valentine_DD_ on twt

- Boothill is described as a righteous person if his bottom line doesn't get crossed, so he definitely treats you good. probably more on the protective side when it comes to you, he's probably not afraid to use his gun if someone is threatening you.

- and believe me he's intimidating. from his overall tough and "unruly" cowboy look to his mechanical body it leaves enemies just a little challenged. he lowers his voice too and probably has a more fierce look in his eyes too. after any threats have been delt with he probably turns to you and turns into the sweetest thing ever, a wide grin across his face and his hands on your cheeks peppering you with small kisses.

- Its said he's a bit sophisticated due to his experiences so I'd like to imagine sometimes he charms you with facts and details about other planets or just genuinely sharing some tips and tricks he's picked up from other cultures. he's also a person who can get along with others pretty well but he can easily give strangers an impression he's selfish and is a bad person.

- again this kinda feeds into he's basically you'd guard dog... but I mean who wouldn't want to be saved by a handsome and sweet cowboy. despite his unpredictable personality and looks he's a huge gentleman for sure. always opens doors and pulls out chairs for you, makes sure your behind him and okay if any danger approaches and practically listens to your every command (lowkey giving off my girl and I don't argue she tells me to shut up and I do)

- one part I'm so excited to see is what they mean by he's illiterate and using metaphors. it's probably just him using slang but it's still kinda cute. I feel like his cheesy and strange metaphors turn into pick up lines when talking to you. perhaps he'll pull a "did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" or something cheesier. Definitely a huge nickname guy, almost never uses your real name. I'm guessing he'd use stuff like doll, sugar, baby, pretty girl/boy and more teasing names. heavy on doll and sugar and just imagine him saying it in a deep southern accent... 😍 kicking my feet. also I imagine he loves making you giggle by not cursing (because he literally cant) and normally he'd get pissed if someone laughed at him like that if it's you he doesn't mind at all.

- that's pretty much it for like analyzing the leaks I saw but now the stuff up ahead is just bias yapping because I always project

- HE DEFINITELY IS A HAND KISSER. greets you by getting on one knee, holding his hat to his chest and kissing your hand. makes eye contact with you too and does that toothy smirk of his IM SWOONINGGG

- maybe he's a dancer! pulls you into his arms and places his hat on your head when a good song plays in taverns. even if your clueless on any type of dances then he'll pull you along to the beat whispering Instructions in your ear.

- gets so lovesick when drunk it drives everyone mad. any folks he's sitting with at a bar gets a whole speech on his wonderful beautiful darling who he owes his live and would happily die by their hand. and may God save you when you come pick him up because he'll be all over you. Immediately he wraps a arm around your waist as he slurrs his hello as he proceeds to tell you he loves you like 40 times. besides the mass amounts of kisses you'll receive once you both reach a private spot he let's some feelings that he might be too shy to share normally, holding your face as he calls you his pretty girl/boy and how he's so lucky to have you.

- honestly not the best for cuddling however unfortunately he needs to cuddle you to sleep so goodluck! his metal body isn't completely uncomfortable it's just cold alot. he tries to get around this by literally preheating himself with blankets before you go to bed.

very bad boothill brainrot atm... only a few more weeks until we get official content 😭 everyone hold hands we got this

here's the actual leaks if anyone is curious ^_^

[binniesbooks]

halloo, I come with a request 🧎‍♀️‍➡️🧎‍♀️‍➡️ ofc feel free to ignore it if you don't feel like writing about it or js don't like the request, that's totally OK!!

but I have been thinking about idol!soobin x fan!reader (feeding my delusions HAHAH) maybe the reader started out as a fan but at a meet and greet or something, she caught soobin's eye and then yada yada they get together !!

then, one day, y/n is on her phone and comes across an edit of soobin. ofc edits of him weren't anything new to her considering she was a fan before she got w soobin but this one caught her eye bcs it wasn't about soobin specifically but about his hands 👀👀 she saw it in a whole different light but ofc was too shy to tell soobin herself so she keeps it a secret

but then another day, in their shared apartment, reader is watching yet another edit of soobin's hands but what she doesn't know is that soobin came back earlier than usual and was right behind her, seeing the edit. that's when it clicked, why y/n was more nervous than usual these past few days, staring at his hands. and then well smut😌😌😌 (kinda mean dom soobin plsss)

feel free to alter it as u like or not do it at all HAHAHA just needed to get my thoughts out!! love yaa

-🤍

• CHOKING HAZARD

SB 000 .F23 2024

wc 4.1k

pairings meandomidolbf!Soobin x subfem!reader

warnings size kink, choking, fingering, slight oral (fem receiving) unsafe sex, pet names, cum eating, creampie, slight degradation (plus if I missed anything)

faye's note TOTALLY DOWN BAD FOR SOOBIN'S HANDS THAT I WOULD GLADLY SIGN A PETITION TO START A FANDOM FOR HIS PRETTY HANDS??? GAAHHH! Anyway, although I felt like it took me decades to finish this fic, I enjoyed writing this one. Hmhmhm. 🙂‍↕️

"Girl, I swear! He was staring at you the whole time!" Your friend exclaimed on your way home after attending a fan meet event with your favorite K-pop boy band, TXT.

"Stop with your delusions, Rain," you chuckled. "Why would my bias stare at me? That's impossible," you said, scoffing at the idea your friend had been conducting on your way home.

"Oh my god, you're such a dumb Soobrangdan, I swear! You're losing your chance!" Your friend was about to burst out, lucky for you, there are only a few locals riding the bus, and they're not paying attention to your friend making a fuss.

You glanced at the photo card dangling on your bag, your bias really looks handsome. You like the other four guys, but you’re committed to Soobin. The tall guy gave the cute yet sexy and hot aura. His bunny smile and pretty face made you fall for him over and over again. --- You we’re a total simp for Soobin.

"Here! Look! MOAs are uploading pictures and videos here and there. Take a look and tell me if I'm wrong!" Rain frowns. You took her phone and scrolled through the platform.

'She's so lucky! Soobin has been staring at her the whole time!'

'She's a Soobrangdan, right? How lucky!'

'Oh, to be stared at by your bias!'

'Prayer reveal, sis!'

It was true. Soobin was looking at you the whole damn time. He looks at the crowd for a second, quickly returning his gaze at you. Oh my god! What in the world have you done to be looked at like this by your bias?!

"Oh fuck, I hope Taehyun would look at me like how Soobin stared at you last time!" It's been a couple of months since the last fan meeting you attended. And this time, you are attending another fan signing event again.

You weren't expecting anything at all, or so you thought. Maybe, deep inside, you're expecting Soobin to recognize you from the crowd. For him to look at you the same way he did last time.

"You're the one who gave me the crocheted KARA lightstick last time, how could I forget you?" Soobin's bunny smile flashed right in front of your face. His big hand is almost covering your tiny ones.

You were giggling the whole time. His hand envelopes yours. He even held your wrist in an almost teasing manner as he compared your size difference. Soobin couldn't stop smiling either. He adores how your hand fits perfectly on his. How the size of your ring finger is the same size as his pinky finger.

And just before you move on to the next member, he sneakily wrote something on the album he was signing.

"I really recognize you, y/n. I hope we can see each other more often," he whispered. "And... don't let anybody touch this album aside from you, yeah?" He smirks as he slides the signed album towards you.

You went home in a dazed state. Your friend couldn't even talk to you properly, frustrated she just shut up. You weren't saying anything aside from the constant "huh?" and "mhm!", while you were clutching the album against your chest tightly.

After doing your nightly routine, you jumped on your bed. The white and orange-colored album caught your eye as you quickly got up and grabbed it.

Sniffing the album, you slowly turned every page. Admiring every beautiful face on each page. Until you saw his picture near the middle part—it was Soobin's picture.

'Hi pretty, call me if you're free.' was written on the edge of the page along with a phone number. Your jaw dropped to the floor, confused and baffled.

You were expecting something more like a sweet message or such, not a 'call me' note.

Yet you found yourself dialing the number written on the page of the album.

"H-hello?" You muttered when you heard a deep breath on the other end. "I-is this Soobin? Choi Soobin?" You were practically biting your nails while muttering the words carefully. What if it's just a bluff?

"Y/n?" the voice answered. Alas! It was Soobin!

"H-hi! I... I'm... I just--"

"Calm down, sweetie," Soobin chuckled.

You took a deep breath and whispered a soft hi. Soobin hums as an answer. The call was short, because Soobin was busy with his schedule. Well, that one-time call already meant a lot to you, who are you to complain?

A couple of months later, TXT organized another fan signing event for their comeback stage. This time, it was a lot bigger than the other. This time, thousands of people are expected to participate. And once again, you and your friends were lucky to acquire the VIP ticket.

It was a crisp autumn evening, and the anticipation in the air was electric. Fans from all corners of the city had gathered for the long-awaited fan meeting of TXT, their favorite boy band. Among the thousands in attendance, you found yourself at the front of the stage, heart racing as the boys took their places.

As the event kicked off, Soobin scanned the crowd, his gaze dancing over faces filled with excitement until it landed on you. You felt your cheeks flush, unsure if it was the light or the warmth of his gaze that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as his eyes locked onto yours, a playful smirk breaking across his face. You quickly looked down, too shy to hold his gaze any longer, but not before you noticed the playful glint in his eyes.

“Who’s ready to have some fun?” Soobin called out, his voice laced with enthusiasm. The crowd erupted in cheers, but all you could think about was that moment of connection. As the various activities unfolded—games, Q&As, and performances—you couldn’t shake the feeling that Soobin’s eyes kept drifting back toward you.

During a particularly lively segment, he started to walk toward the edge of the stage, playfully teasing the fans. You held your breath, half-expecting him to call someone else into the spotlight. Then, without warning, he pointed directly at you. “You! Come here!”

Your heart stopped. “Me?” You stammered, disbelief evident on your face as you made your way to the front. The crowd parted with laughter and cheers, urging you on. With each step, the adrenaline surged, and by the time you stood before him, your heart was pounding furiously.

“Hi! What’s your name?” Though his eyes were actually screaming, he knew your name, leaning closer, his warm smile making it hard to concentrate.

“Uhm, it's y/n," you managed, your voice barely audible above the loud cheers around you.

“Well, aren’t you brave?” He said with a playful wink. “I have a feeling you’re going to be my favorite fan tonight.

”You couldn’t believe it—he was flirting with you right there in front of everyone! The other members laughed and encouraged him, but he didn’t take his eyes off you. As the event progressed, he kept making lighthearted jokes, steering the attention back to you each time.

When the event ended, he stepped down from the stage and walked toward you. “You know,” he said, his voice low enough for only you to hear, “I think we should hang out sometime. I’d like to get to know you better."

Your breath caught in your throat as the other members around you gasped. Was he really asking you out? “Are you serious?” You asked, trying to mask the disbelief with a teasing smile.

"Absolutely,” he smiled back, mischief dancing in his eyes. “What do you say? Just us, away from the cameras and crowds?”

After exchanging contact information with a heart full of hope, your night wrapped up, but that was only the beginning. Over the next few weeks, Soobin kept his promise. Text messages turned into phone calls, and soon enough, the two of you were meeting in secret cafés, parks, and even sharing ice cream on chilly evenings. Each moment together deepened the bond you were forming.

Dating someone like Soobin wasn’t without its challenges; the scrutiny of being in the public eye weighed heavily on both of you. But amidst the noise, you found solace in the quiet moments—the way he would listen intently as you spoke, the laughter you shared over inside jokes, and the warmth of his hand finding yours.

One night, while walking beneath a canopy of stars, Soobin gently squeezed your hand and said, “I never expected to find someone so genuine in this crazy world. I’m really glad you caught my eye that day.”

With your heart racing, you looked up at him, his face lit with anticipation. “I'd never imagined myself dating you, Soob, I even thought you're joking. But... You’ve changed my life in ways I never could have imagined. You made me love life even more,” you sighed.

In that moment, the world faded away, leaving just the two of you standing under the sparkling sky, two hearts dancing to a rhythm that felt undeniably right.

"Were you watching edits of me again?" You were startled from where you were sitting when Soobin spoke.

"Oh my god, Bin! At least announce that you're home, else I’ll end up dying young," you joked, your hand still on your chest.

Soobin chuckled, planting a kiss on your forehead, "I did, sweetie. Maybe you're just too focused on what you were watching that you didn't even hear me. What if it's not me? What if it's a killer or a thief?" Soobin pouts as he melts into your arms.

"What the hell are you saying? Do they have the house key?" Your eyebrows raised into a frown and Soobin pouted.

It's been only 3 months since you started officially dating him, yet you knew almost everything about him. You're too familiar with when he's stressed out, or when he's angry, or when he just wants to be clingy.

One typical Saturday afternoon, while the sun was casting a warm golden hue across the room, you sat on your bed, scrolling through social media.

You found yourself watching a short video clip that featured your boyfriend in a relaxed interview setting. He was gesturing with his hands, those long, slender fingers of his gliding through the air as he spoke animatedly about his passion for music. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest as you admired his natural charisma. You had always found him attractive, but something about his fingers today set your imagination racing.

The way he drummed his fingers on the table, or how he would push his hair back while speaking, was captivating. You leaned in closer, your face flush with warmth, almost forgetting the world around you. The clip had sparked a whirlwind of fantasies in your mind, and you lost yourself in thoughts of how his fingers might feel on your skin, exploring and teasing.

Just as you were about to replay the video for the third time, you heard a soft click at your door. Your heart raced as you quickly looked away from your phone, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

To your surprise, it was Soobin himself, looking casual yet undeniably cute in his oversized hoodie. “Hey, i'm home,” he said, a playful smile spreading across his face. You froze, phone still in hand, the video still playing in the background as your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

“What were you watching?” he asked. You felt your throat go dry, words barely finding their way out. “Um, just a… a video,” you stammered, avoiding his gaze.

He stepped closer, his curiosity piqued. “Oh really? Is it something interesting?”

For a second, you thought of showing it to him, telling him about it, yet you shut it off and brushed it all aside.

"W-what do you want for dinner?" You muttered, shoving your phone in your pocket.

"Don't cook tonight, I booked a restaurant." Soobin smiled, shrugging off the matter that was the video on your phone.

You took a quick shower, picked some nice casual clothes, and took his hand in yours, walking hand in hand once again.

Soobin makes a joke about you might be cheating on him and that you're hiding something from him. But of course, you showed proof you didn't do anything of the sort.

Dinner went well. Aside from some pair of eyes probably boring holes in your skull, Soobin made you comfortable nonetheless. You had a good time with him again, after a while of being busy with his hectic schedule.

The next day, Soobin went out earlier than usual. They were called in for a sudden meeting for their upcoming shoot.

You were enjoying your time alone. Baking some goods for him to taste when he gets home. Cleaning and rearranging the house stuff for a cleaner and cozy space. You even changed the curtains, the sheets, the pillowcases, and the blankets.

After a whole day of cleaning, you sat down on your usual spot on the sofa, turning on your phone to consume some entertainment. You found yourself searching for the clip you had watched yesterday.

And once again, it made your head spin. His long and slender fingers look so pretty. His huge hand made you think about something unholy. Your fingers slowly digging into the soft pillow, your thighs rubbing against each other.

His eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “My fingers? What about them?”

You jolt up from where you were sitting, quickly shutting off your phone and shoving it face down on the couch.

"H-hey! Y-you're phone--- I mean home!" you exclaimed, quickly hitting your head and cursing yourself for messing your words up.

You felt your face grow even warmer, heart racing. The heat of embarrassment surged through you, but there was something unmistakably thrilling about his interest. Soobin tilts his head to the side, curious of what that was all about.

"They’re just… really nice,” you finally admitted, barely above a whisper, a mix of shyness and audacity washing over you.

Soobin’s smile widened, and a glimmer of something playful sparked in his deep-set eyes. “Nice, huh? I guess there are worse things to be complimented on.” He took a step closer, invading your personal space, making you acutely aware of how your body responded to his proximity.

You could feel the coldness of the concrete wall seeping through your thin shirt and kissing your warm back.

Suddenly, the air was thick with tension, a magnetic pull drawing you toward him. He leaned down slightly, tilting his head, his gaze locked onto yours. “You know, I can show you just how nice they are…” His voice dropped to a whisper, the teasing lilt sending shivers down your spine.

Without thinking, you leaned forward, and the space between you collapsed. The spark ignited, and Soobin captured your lips in a soft, tentative kiss. It was electrifying, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

As he pulled back, you gasped at the intensity of the moment, still dazed.

"Are you okay?” he asked, a mix of concern and mischief playing on his features. You nodded, your heart racing. “I think so… I just never imagined…”

“Neither did I,” he interrupted, his fingers brushing against your cheek, a subtle caress that felt intimate and exhilarating. “But sometimes, the unexpected can lead to something amazing.”

Before you could process it, Soobin pulled you closer, his lips finding yours again, this time more passionately. Your hands instinctively found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you melted into him. You could feel his warmth radiating off him, igniting an undeniable fire within you.

As the kiss deepened, his fingers moved down your arms, tracing patterns that sent jolts of electricity through your body. You pulled back for a moment, eyes searching his. “Are you sure about this?”

His playful grin returned, and he nodded. “If you're down, I'm down. Who am I to decline? Besides, I think you need me," he chuckled as he gripped your waist.

With a rush of adrenaline, you surrendered to the moment, letting go of your shyness and embracing the connection between you. It was as if nothing else mattered; the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this shared sanctuary of desire.

The afternoon melted into an evening of exploration and passion, every soft touch and lingering kiss drawing you closer. Soobin’s fingers, the very ones that had ignited this whole encounter, explored your skin like an artist painting a masterpiece, each stroke igniting flames of longing in their wake.

"S-soobin," you choked out.

"Yes love? I'm here. I'm still here," he muttered, kissing your neck. He then pulled away and grabbed your arm, sniffing your wrist. "You smell sweet and amazing, did you take a bath already?" he asked. You simply nodded, pulling your hand away and wrapping them around his waist.

"Bedroom? I think I really need you right now," you bit your lower lip as you look up at him.

"You do?" Soobin taunts, lifting one of his hands, gently rubbing your lip. He pulled your lower lip down with his thumb. "I don't know what I could do to you. Your tiny body looks so frail and fragile compared to me."

"Please, need you..." Your eyes pleading to the tall man, rubbing your thighs together, wanting to finally feel him.

Soobin carefully wrapped his hand around your neck, slowly tightening his grip. You heard him curse under his breath when you gasped for air, clutching on his shirt. His grip easily made you lightheaded and your mind hazy. You're totally making him develop his size kink in a sexual way.

"B-bin... S-soobin..." You managed to squeak out as fat tears fell from your waterline. He pulled his hand away, and he watched you catch your breath, whimpering on his chest as you hugged him tight. Not wanting to let him know how turned on you are.

"Did I hurt you? I'm sorry, you just look... You looked so pretty when you're all drooling and crying with just my hand wrapped around your neck," he said as he hugged you back, his voice tinged with apology.

"F-felt good... Want more..." You admitted, burying your face in his chest. Soobin carried you all the way to your shared bedroom. Laying you down on the bed, carefully stripping you out of your thin clothes, and hovering above you.

"Y/n, if we don't stop now, I can't guarantee you I would be able to stop later on," he sighed, fingers gently brushing your plush thighs.

"Need you. Need you so much, please..." You begged, grabbing his toned arm. Soobin dipped his head down, kissing the tip of your nose.

"I love you, don't think that I only want your body. I love you because you are you, y/n." You weren't expecting him to spew assurance in the midst of this, especially since he was suddenly talking about your body, but it made you feel at ease for some reason.

He then grabs your hands, restraining them both with just a single hand above your head. "My hands and fingers are pretty, you say? Watch them for me, yeah?" he said as he slowly rubbed your clit.

"Mmphh!" You squirmed under him, a faint blush creeping onto your cheeks.

His digits slowly disappeared in your hole as he fucked you with his fingers. Grinning widely while watching your small frame thrash beneath him.

"Say it again," he commands, "That my fingers are pretty."

"B-bin mmphh! Your fingers are--- ahh! Are p-pretty!"

"How pretty are they?" he edged, curling his long fingers inside.

"Ohh! S-so pretty w-wanna c-cum--fuck ahh! W-wanna cum on them!" You managed.

"Mhm, go ahead, do it."

With a few more pumps, you came undone on his fingers, body twitching from sensitivity. His face lit up, looking proud that he managed to make you come on his fingers. When he pulled out his fingers, they were glistening with your arousal. Sticky. Wet. Creamy.

Yet your eyes were fixed on his essence-covered fingers. It didn't escape his sight, smirking as one nasty idea came to his mind.

He shoved his fingers in your mouth, letting you taste yourself. Allowing you to suck on his pretty fingers covered with your slick. Making you play with his fingers with your warm and hot tongue.

"Damn, you look so sexy like this. If only I knew about this, we should've done this earlier," he chuckled as he swirled his fingers on your tongue.

"Do you taste good? I bet you do." He smiled before pulling his hand away from you and dipping his head on the lower region of your body. Gripping your thighs to keep them open, licking a long stripe on your dripping pussy.

Your body arched as a guttural moan escaped from your mouth. "Damn, you do taste good, should've done this to you before."

If he has long fingers, no doubt that he has a long tongue too. That he could even tongue-fuck you and would possibly make you cum again if only he stayed longer.

Soobin pulled out a pack of condoms that had been sitting in his wallet for a long time now. "What if we hit it raw instead?" His voice was joking, yet you agreed.

Soobin was packing. Girthy --- Veiny. Thick. Long.

"B-bin too b-big!" You whined. He made you straddle him, claiming he'd reach deeper inside you in this position. Not to mention the pack of condoms discarded and long forgotten on the floor.

"Baby, you can take me. I know you can. You’re doing so good. Doing so fucking good, my pretty girl." His fingers traced the prominent bulge on your tummy. "See? I'm deep inside you. In here. Look. You're such a good girl," he coos, poking and pushing at the bulge.

His lips captured yours once again. Kissing you fervently yet carefully. "You're so tiny," he giggled as he leaned back, pulling your lower lip again with his thumb. He wasn't expecting you suck his finger into your mouth.

"Dirty," he remarks, and he felt you clench around his cock.

"Fuck, you want that? You want to be called dirty? To be called a slut?” He felt you clench around his cock again.

"Angel, didn't know you're this kinky?" he chuckled. "Aside from being choked, you quite love getting degraded, hm?"

"B-bin, 's too m-much?" You whined, wanting to hide on his neck, but he insists on watching your face contort as he rearranges your guts.

"Poor baby," he coos, red cock ramming your overstimulated cunt even harder. Your wanton moans got louder and high pitched. His thrusts got sloppy and erratic.

"Fuck, won't last long, mmphh!" His head thrown back as he grips your waist, pushing your body down on his cock, slamming through your cervix.

"M-me neither, please, n-need more," you whimpered.

One of his hands flew up to your neck, restraining your lungs to acquire enough oxygen, making your mind a little hazy and your pulse throb for a bit while he shoots his cum inside you.

"Shit!" he hisses, convulsing, as he leans his forehead on your shoulder, loosening his grip on your neck. The corner of his lips curled up when he heard you panting, gasping for air, your body twitching above him as you came undone for the second time. Your boyfriend developed many kinks, after all.

He slowly pulled away, a glob of cum flowing out from your spent hole. "Let's get you cleaned up," he whispers, along with the soft kisses being planted on your temple. You shook your head and pulled the blanket over your bodies instead, hugging him tight, neglecting the sticky feeling.

Soobin then decided to rest and clean up later. He doesn't want you to be sulky and mad anyway, so he just hugged you closer to him, gently massaging your sore body.

Smiling to himself with his eyes closed after realizing something. That when he chokes you, he now knows you love it. When he shoves his fingers on your mouth, he now knows you're reeling at the feeling. When he restrains both of your wrists with just a single hand, given how huge his hand is. He might be your big, clingy baby at times, but he's a total daddy in bed. He likes to show power and dominance towards you—his pretty little angel.

@binniesbooks 2024

[hongjoongspoetry]

A Love Written in Gold

Part 1 — The Grand Debut

🦢 Summary: Dearest gentle readers, the much-anticipated season of debutantes has finally graced us, casting a spell of delightful nerves among our young ladies poised to conquer the glittering heights of society. As is tradition, a diamond amongst them has been selected to dazzle—oh, which lucky charm shall it be this year? Amidst a flurry of introductions and grand soirèes, let it be noted that the inaugural ball shall be hosted by the illustrious His Grace, the Duke of Beaumonte. But pray tell, who are those most peculiar gentlemen drawing all eyes with their striking features? And what delightful mischief lies in wait for the debutante of the Jeong Household and her charming commoner, behind the discreetly shut doors of the music room?

🦢 Pairing(s): Proletarian!Hongjoong x Noble!Reader, Duke!Seonghwa x Noble!Reader

🦢 Genres/Tropes: Bridgerton AU, Regency era, forbidden love

🦢 Warnings/Tags: no use of (Y/N), female reader, sexism, mentioned classism, explicit language, overprotective!Yunho, wholesome family dynamics, slight angst

🦢 Wordcount: 14.8K

🦢 Author's Note: Welcome to my second series!! Whi-hoooooo! I've been wanting to write a Bridgerton AU since s3 came out and what better than to make it a Hongjoong series. It was about time I did something for my bias lmaoo. Anyway, the tags are a bit vague and I'll update them as the chapters come out, so check them out with each update. A little fun thing I did. There are a few 🎼 emojis spread through out the chapter with songs I thought were fitting to the scenes, so if you want, listen while reading :) The following songs are in order:

Young and Beautiful, Vitamin String Quartet | We Are Young, Vitamin String Quartet | Positions, Jeremy Green | Chopin: Waltz No. 19 in A minor, Op. posth.

This is all fiction and not meant to represent the idols involved in any way or form. This work is NSFW and not appropriate for minors as it contains explicit scenes. Minors and ageless blogs, please, refrain from reading or interacting with this work or my blog!!!

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Permanent taglist

Winter prepared for its departure as spring eagerly waited by the door, a green blanket in hand and pockets full of overgrowing flowers. She was more than ready to wrap the world in a warm hug of vivid colors and greenery. Many ladies got ready for their first active participation in the social season, giving their parents, maids and butlers a handful of things to fret over. In one of the most respectable households of the ton, the Jeongs were arranging everything for their youngest to make her appearance in society as a débutante and help her search for the perfect eligible man.

“We must hurry! The carriages are outside,” Wooyoung announced and raked his hand through his combed hair, making it appear messy as if just risen out of bed.

Although being the second born of the late Viscount and Viscountess Jeong and possessing no title to his name, Wooyoung still dressed the part of an aristocrat. His double-breasted vest was a white creme color with a tad bit brighter dress shirt beneath, the light colors contrasted his dark features and he stood out as a star in a pitch black sky. A matching neck scarf rested around his neck and he occasionally tugged at it, complaining of the itchy and suffocating material that no one dared to alter, courtesy of it being his mother’s choice. His legs were tightly wrapped in a pair of black trousers, showcasing his glutes and muscles. The black tailcoat was yet to be worn, but he had no doubts it would hug his body in a delicate way to display his slim waist and make up for his lack of height. 

Granted Wooyoung was not seeking a lady to wed, he would still arrive to gatherings wearing expensive pieces of clothing and jewelry and a dazzling smile that would make even the stubbornest of ladies swoon. Much as last year’s social season, Wooyoung planned on greeting the pretty debutants with a kiss to the back of their hands and — if feeling frisky — asking to sign their dance cards with a glint of mischief in his truffle colored eyes. 

“Then someone should hasten our lovely sister, do you not agree, Brother?” Yunho, the current viscount and head of the household, suggested. 

Unlike Wooyoung, Yunho was wearing darker schemes besides his white shirt and the pretty silver patterns on his thick vest. His tailcoat was darker than coal, but soft as feathers, made out of a velvet fabric indigent people had never set eyes on, much less dreamed of. The black scarf was neatly tucked beneath his vest and the elder showed no signs of irritation, he looked rather content and relaxed on the plush couch in the living room. Yunho’s long legs were decorated with black pants and extravagant leather boots reaching up to his knees. 

The Jeong brothers did not look alike, from their varying facial characteristics to the height difference, anyone not aware of them sharing blood — they would be foolish not to know — would not believe they were nurtured by the same father and mother. 

“What a splendid proposition, Brother, however, I do have to say she is far more civil in your company.”

“Stop speaking of your sister in that way,” their mother, Dowager Viscountess Ireum Lee, chastised and gently ran her palm along her beautiful pistachio green gown. 

At first glance, the woman seemed to be a very serious and strict lady. Some even dared to compare her to a sly fox. Looking into her sharp and dark eyes would be the equivalent of staring into a void hole—dark, empty and cold. Her neatly braided, black hair and red-tainted lips were vivid against her bright complexion, and she was always shielded from the sun whether it was under an umbrella or a great tree. Despite her resting facade — claiming to be missing that motherly warmth newborns would yearn for — she could light up a room with her bright smile and soft-turned eyes. Her beauty was truly unmatched and no amount of makeup could make the other mamas appear nearly as pretty. It was no secret both Yunho and Wooyoung acquired their looks from her. Yunho with his cupid bow lip and Wooyoung’s wide cheekbones and sharp jaw. 

“Although it is true we do not have time to idle. Let us fetch your sister.” The brothers followed their mother as ducklings padded after a hen, with haste and no further questions asked.

“Is she still not ready?” Yunho asked as the trio stopped before a great white opening, both of the doors closed and some shuffling noises coming from inside the youngest's room.

“It seems so, dear.”

“We do not have time, Mama. I should call for her.” As Wooyoung advanced forward, his hand stuck out to grasp the golden knob, Yunho quickly gripped the younger’s wrist.

“Did you not say she preferred my company over yours, little Brother?”

“That was before we risked running late, now if you would.” Wooyoung ripped his hand out of the gentle hold and gave a new try of entering. 

A millimeter away before Wooyoung’s gloved fingers made contact again, the doors swung open and the trio simultaneously stepped back. Multiple maids rapidly left the room and soft as a feather, the youngest and only daughter of the Jeong family came into view. You were gorgeous. The epitome of breathtaking. The white dress cascaded down your body and reached the glossy tiles of the hallway. The details of the gown were subtle. The pair of golden roses professionally woven into the puffed sleeves and across the bosom accentuated your chest. No more frilly necklines or thick dresses to cover your figure. Your exposed neck was adorned with a golden necklace, an heirloom passed down in generations, from your late grandmother to your late mama, to you and eventually to your future daughter or daughter-in-law. It was a simple piece of jewelry and resembled branches of a tree holding pearls and clear diamonds instead of leaves. The maids responsible for your hair arranged it into an updo with many pins to not accidentally stray in your gently dolled-up face. A feather headpiece drew all the attention to itself, standing tall on your crown and flapping with each little movement of yours.

“Miss Lee!” Wooyoung teasingly remarked, “You sure do make a fine debutant, little Sister.”

Matching Wooyoung’s playfulness, you pinched the material of your dress between your silky-clad hands and curtsied with a faux smile, an expression you mastered over the years for this specific event.

“Thank you, Woo.” Facing the rest of the family, you bowed again, “Mother. Yunho.”

“You look lovely, my dear.” Ireum placed her hands on your shoulders and gave them an encouraging squeeze. “Your papa and mama would have been proud of you, treasure.”

“Do you really believe that?” The insecurity in your tone did not go misheard.

“I am more than certain.” She cupped your jaw and allowed her thumb to caress the apple of your cheek.

Your real mother passed during childbirth along with your younger brother, who did not live to take his first breath outside her womb. Three summers passed until your father, the late Viscount Lee, wed another lady with the promise of taking her two sons under his care. In exchange, Ireum raised you as her own daughter, but never with the intent of erasing the trail your mother left in the short three years she shared with you. There was only so much a three-year-old could remember and if it were not for the big portrait of your late parents hanging in your room, you would have forgotten the face of your biological mother. Despite the loss of your mama, you still felt the motherly love seep through the words and touches of Ireum.

The quirk of having a small family was that all members fit into one carriage and no one was rarely ever forgotten. Except for Wooyoung, who did the unthinkable just to escape the watchful eyes of Ireum in order to have some fun. Holding the title of the household, Yunho never stepped out of line and fulfilled his duty of keeping the family in good hands. You had what would probably be the easiest task; to stand and look pretty. It sounded boring at first, but the more you did not bring attention to yourself, the easier it was to slip under the radar of the ton. 

That would all change today. Whilst the people of the ton woke up hours after the sun rose, the famished side of town was on their legs since before the bright star had peeked over the horizon. For them, it was nothing more than another day of hard work and bringing food to the table. Age and gender were two words that did not mean much besides giving character to their entities. The poor were thrust into work at a very young age — something families like the Jeongs could never imagine — and brought in a handful of pennies over the course of weeks. The cycle would repeat until driven into an early grave from either lung poisoning, exhaustion or starvation. Some would say it was unfair that the sole family you were born into could determine your whole life and others would argue otherwise, claiming life was formed by sheer strategy and the use of tools that were handed to you after birth. 

Mister Choi would agree despite having more leaves and sticks in his boyish pockets than coins. Raised and almost born on the floor of his father’s pub, Mister Choi spent more time inside the beer-filled room than in their own house. He was a somewhat respected man, not by means of money, but by the reputation built through his greatest treasure, his pub. It was the reason behind the Choi’s survival through generations and the next owner in line was no one else but his first and only child, San. Mister Choi would be turning in his grave had he known what his offspring planned to do with his greatest treasure. 

Far away from the flower populated streets filled with luxurious carriages, men and women dressed in eye-catching costumes, and magnificent architecture, a dingy space residing in a rundown building. The name decided by the great grandfather of Mister Choi was carved into the wooden sign hanging above the entrance, albeit reformed throughout the years. The moment the key was in the palms of San, the young man decided to change the complete interior. The Crescent was the pride and glory of the Choi bloodline and looking over the semi-full boxing club, San could not have imagined a better use of the previous pub.

“I do not get how you do this, I mean, you can not even see a speck of blood on my floorboards!” San exclaimed, bruised hands resting against his bare hips. 

The male who was done scrubbing the wooden floor threw the dirtied rag over his shoulder and glanced up at the owner. San was a very handsome man. Sharp eyes, full rosy lips and prominent cheekbones. The black hair was parted down the middle with a few strands escaping and falling over his forehead. His most alluring feature were the dimples appearing with his dazzling smile, an attribute people would commit treason for. That was not all. Beside his captivating face, San’s body was that of a sculpture. The thin tank top did nothing to hide his broad shoulders and strong arms, and even brought forth his slim waist. The man had muscles in all the right places, courtesy of the daily exercise in his club blessing him with very hard abdominal muscles and firm buttocks. San was a work of art and there was no doubt in mind he would fit right in with the ton, if he only discarded that kindhearted personality.

“Lukewarm water and a lot of finger strength,” replied the worker, his pale hand coming up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. 

“Remind me to give you a raise. You have helped me more than anyone and to you I am forever in debt.”

“The debt was paid off the moment you allowed me a space in your home, providing food on my plate and shelter over my head. Do not fret over such minor things, San. I do see you as family after all.”

“Good, because you are the closest I have to an older brother, Hongjoong.”

The first time San saw Hongjoong, they had yet to reach the age of puberty. The elder was a scrawny child by nature and stayed that way in his twenties as well. Thinking back to the olden days, not much about his appearance had changed except for the aging and looking part of a man and not a boy. His caramel colored hair was still untamed and reached the base of his neck while the front strands were cut so as not to fall in his line of sight. Hongjoong was a man of very delicate features; a small and pointy nose, a heart-shaped mouth and feline eyes in the prettiest shade of brown San had ever bestowed. 

Hongjoong would have thrived in the life of a rich man, but that loose mouth of his would certainly land him in a heap of troubles. However, it did not matter as he was born with nothing. No title that would pay off all his troubles in life, no family with a great sum of money or greater achievement to inherit. Hongjoong was a mere man with a dream that would never be fulfilled. All the obstacles thrown in his life taught him to be grateful for what he had and not long for dreams out of his reach. 

“I do believe we have cleaned up nicely for my cousin’s arrival. You can take a rest and write some of your poems and stories that you oh-so-desperately hide from me.”

The exhaustion settled over Hongjoong’s shoulders and he could not have been more happy to hear the word ‘rest’ leave San’s lips. They had been cleaning since stepping foot in the boxing club and all because of San’s wish the place be tidy for his cousin’s first visit. 

He let out a sound the mix of a chuckle and cough. “They are music sheets, not stories and I am merely hiding them because they are yet to be finished.”

“You are telling me you have not even finished one piece of music over the course of how many years?”

“I am a perfectionist! You of all people should know that, San-ie.”

Prepared to tease the elder a little more, San threw an arm around him and lit up the room with his dimpled smile, but was interrupted as the door creaked open. In came a man appearing younger than Hongjoong and with a bigger value than the whole club and San’s apartment combined.

Judging by the unknown male's exquisite choice of clothes, Hongjoong would guess he belonged on the opposite side of town where they dined appetizers for lunch and drank champagne instead of water. Not a speck of dirt tainted his all-white suit, in fact, the only brown smudge on his whole appearance was his neatly parted hair to show his forehead. The stoic expression on his round face sent caution heedings through Hongjoong. Fearing he was there to cause ruckus — because why else would distinguished gentlemen stop by a boxing club funded by another poor man — Hongjoong hardened his gaze and balled his hands into fists. A gesture that would have him shunned out of every place in the whole town, no matter how poor or rich he may have been. As Hongjoong moved to greet him in an unfriendly manner, San’s sudden detachment from the caramel-haired man caught him off guard, but not nearly as much as the loud and warm greeting following seconds after.

“Little Cousin!” 

San moved at the speed of a racing horse and disregarded the extortionate suit as he wrapped his bare and sweaty arms around the man, using enough power to lift him off the ground and spin them around. The man looked uncomfortable, but his features were not colored with a tinge of annoyance or anger, quite the opposite. He broke out in a smile, gummy teeth on display and eyes creasing as a cute giggle filled the spunky atmosphere. The threat Hongjoong created in his mind was nothing but an exaggeration. Instead of a Grizzly Bear, the man became a teddy.

“San, release me!”

“I cannot help it, Cousin, I have not seen you in ages!”

The cousin, Hongjoong had yet to put a name to, dusted off imaginary dirt and straightened the lapels of his suit. “It has not been ages, you always exaggerate. We met at Mama's funeral last season, although I do apologize for not interacting all too much with you.”

It sounded like a foolish thing to apologize for, but who was Hongjoong to question it? He had never been to a funeral and would most likely not live to witness one either. The first one would attend, he would be lying in the casket if he was lucky enough to afford one in the first place.

“Anyhow, that is not important now. I did not travel all the way here to reminisce of my last moments with Mama. I have a proposition for you, but before that will you not introduce me to your… comrade?”

Hongjoong looked as perplexed as San’s cousin sounded. He did not expect the young man to address him anywise and certainly not with a high regard. His mouth opened and closed continuously. The silence prolonged and Hongjoong awaited harsh words and a biting remark from the gentleman at his lack of answer, but all he received was a patient stare.

“Uh, right! Right. May I introduce my one and only trustworthy friend, Hongjoong? Hongjoong, this is Lord Choi, owner of Precious, the most well known pub industry in all of Scotland and currently expanding to England.”

“Just… Hongjoong?” The man nodded and Lord Choi sighed. “Very well then. As my cousin said, I am Lord Choi, but you can address me by my given name, Jongho. I am not all that keen on formalities, especially with friends, and a friend of my cousin is a friend of mine.”

Hongjoong stared at the Lord, at his new friend, who showed off his gummy pearls as if the man had promised him a house of gold and not just progressed past the formalities five seconds into their meeting.

“Now, back to what I was saying. The proposition, Cousin. His Grace is hosting the first ball of the season and I have been given the freedom to bring whomever I want.”

“And you decided to bring your dirt poor cousin because?”

“You know I have never liked these social gatherings, I cannot deal with mamas coming up trying to wed off their daughters. Matter of fact, you are invited too, Hongjoong.”

Jongho was full of surprises, Hongjoong concluded. Dressed in a proper suit and hair tidily combed, but he still whined as if a century old child. It was uncommon—in fact, it was very rare—to see an aristocrat be kind toward people the likes of Hongjoong and San. He could not count on his hands the number of times nobility shunned him for his mere existence. To have a Lord call him his friend and invite him to the first ball of the season was bound to leave him skeptical.

Hongjoong cleared his throat and wiped his clammy hands against his ripped bottoms. “Uh, my apologies, Lord Ch– Jongho, but I cannot attend… I do not have the means to finance an exquisite suit or carriage or, well anything to be frank.”

“The same goes for me, little cousin.” San slung his arm over Hongjoong’s shoulders and connected the sides of their heads. “Besides, who will tend the boxing club?”

Jongho broke out into another grin, shoulders up to his ears and his brown eyes squinting so hard one could believe San shared the funniest joke of the epoch. “You seem to forget yourself, cousin. I, Jongho, have enough money to free up the rest of your week and restock your wardrobe for the foreseeable future. For the both of you. Go and clean up while I make some arrangements for us. It is time to pay a visit to an old friend.” He firmly grabbed both men by their shoulders and guided them further into the boxing club.

Hongjoong was never one to back down from a good time full of food, sweets and excessive beverages, not to mention pretty ladies in frilly dresses. Going under the hot stream of water and changing into a new set of somewhat clean clothes, the three men took Jongho’s carriage to the supposed old friend. The representative colors of Kilmartin, blue azure and an argent shade of white, covered the carriage in swirls. The foreign palette was bound to make them stand out from the rest, like the cart passing by drenched in complete black and minimal designs of gold added on the outline and handels.

There was always a mild curiosity among the bystanders standing on the pavement, yet the blue and white colors managed to even catch the attention of the second-born Jeong, who himself was in a carriage going in the opposite direction. The rapid flicks of his wrist slowed down as he continuously peered out the window, his attention caught by something more important than his sister’s worry over her debut. Sweat coiled beneath your armpits and chest, and the air fanned with the help of Wooyoung did nothing to cool you down. 

“Are there different ranks for certain carriages?” 

You snatched the fan from Wooyoung’s hands and smacked it over his head. “Is that the most crucial thing to discuss right now, Brother? I am sweating like a pig and all you ask is the value of carriages? I have not heard one, ‘How are you, Sister? Can I help you, Sister?’ from you.”

“Will you two hush? The whole ton can hear your bickering and I am certain that will not heighten your reputation amongst them. What man fancies a lady who is ill mannered and what lady seeks out an aloof gentleman?”

The two youngest of the Jeong Household erupted into another fit of whines and complaints making Yunho’s attempt at calming them down futile. As the head of the family and viscount, he could handle all the duties that came with the roles, but aiding their mother with the growth and upbringing of his siblings was a far more complex task than anything he had battled before. 

“I would not be deemed ill mannered if my brother could focus on the task at hand!”

“Aloof? Aloof?! What is so aloof about wanting to expand my knowledge?!”

Yunho sighed and leaned back against the plush seat, he could not listen to another second of pointing fingers and turned to his mother for help. The Dowager Viscountess chuckled gracefully, mouth shielded by her clothed hand and lips tightly sealed but not enough to hide the delighted sound. The struggle straining his features did not go unnoticed and she decided to interfere before his rich brown strands turned gray. 

“Alright children, settle down!” Ireum took the fan out of your hand and resumed Wooyoung’s previous task. “Now, Yunho does have a talent for over exaggerating, my dears, but I do not agree with his claim. None of my children are ill mannered, maybe sharp-tongued and… on occasions rowdy, but still very demure.” 

“But Mama!”

“No, buts Wooyoung dear, stop arguing and let us focus on your sister’s debut into high society.”

You straightened at the attention and raised your chin to the heavens. The pride set into every atom of your body and pulled at your lips until a triumphant smile lit up your face. There was no sweet victory as the one over your brothers. Your pleased look crumbled as the trotting horses slowed down and eventually stopped the whole carriage. The moment you had been dreaming of since little legs was upon you and it was equally scary as it was exciting. Walking through the doors of the royal court and being guided into a room with a dozen other ladies waiting to present made you realize how close you were to your dream. There was no retracing your steps to the life of a little girl anymore and while it sounded great, it also filled you with melancholy. Debuting meant entering a stage in life neither of your biological parents witnessed you in and closing the door on your childhood was to leave the memories of your late papa and mama. However, your mourning did not solely contain the passing of the late Viscount and Viscountess Lee, but also of the girlhood you would not face until your own daughter was brought to the world with an ear piercing cry. 

Your brothers or any other male relatives were not allowed in the waiting room and were referred to accompany the remaining guests in the main hall. The girls in your vicinity were all clad the same, some were more nervous than others, but the tension was nonetheless high in the room. The worry of their appearances did not quiet down until the first girl was announced to step out. The remaining débutantes-in-waiting stopped adjusting their gowns and feathers and focused on being calm enough to not ruin the important walk that would determine their rank and value in the market. Out of everyone there, you wished for one person to appear. Mingi, the heir to the seventh Viscount Song, whom you had known since birth more or less. It was a shame only the primary family of each débutante could attend as it would bring you immense peace to have him there. To see his towering height, bright smile, and single crooked front tooth on display and mouthing encouraging words. Mingi’s presence alone would lift the suffocating spell you were under. 

🎼 The chatter of the people outside moved in waves, raising and simmering out between presentations. As with many others, your name was eventually proclaimed on the other side of the door and the last ounce of concern sketched on your features evened out into a pleased expression. Your small courtesy smile was to catch everyone’s attention while your eyes would be the gems making them swoon. The announcer’s voice increased in volume as the doors parted, allowing the spectators to drink in the next débutante. 

“...Presented by her mother, the Right Honorable, the Dowager Viscountess Lee!”

You took calm and collected steps, synchronizing them with Ireum’s who was half a step behind you, looking equally as mesmerizing and captivating as the day she debuted. The trick to these things, she had told you years ago, was to keep your head straight and posture upright, showcasing importance and elegance. You had been practicing the walk for ages. The amount of trashed books and shattered teapots stretched over a hundred, but they lived to serve their purpose in the end. Hushed whispers and looks filled with curiosity followed your moving forms. You immediately found the scrutinizing gaze of the Queen, surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting. She was clad in the most exquisite dress you ever laid eyes upon and that spoke volumes as you had your own fair share of expensive silks tailored to fit your body like a glove. The mighty periwig adorning her small head took on the form of a rosebush and put everyone else’s to shame. It was so huge, you nearly missed the gleaming crown — delicate and small — on top, sparkling in the dim lights of the chandelier.

Somewhere in the crowd stood your brothers. Wooyoung with a proud smile and cheesing eyes while the older looked rather grim, not liking the idea of his baby sister turning into a woman. But underneath that hard exterior, warmth and happiness heaved a weight off his shoulders. A feeling akin to pride swelled in his chest just to see everyone’s surprised and amazed reactions. The Jeongs always knew how to leave an impression.

“Your sister does take after your mother, Lord Jeong.” A deep yet soft voice murmured next to him. Yunho looked away from you curtsying, the correction resting on his tongue dispersing into thin air as it landed on a familiar face.

“Your Grace, what a delightful surprise it is to meet you here.”

The Duke of Beaumonte, Seonghwa, looked as he sounded; rich and eloquent. His hair was long and black, falling as a blanket over his nape and tickling his collarbones. Most of his hair was neatly combed back, all but one piece of his fringe, which was styled to curl in front of his bare forehead. Not many gentlemen dared such a hairstyle, as the fear of appearing gruesome was more probable than winning a horse race, but Seonghwa was the exception. He did not cower for any challenge, even those involving fashion. From peculiar suits to eye-catching hairdos, he frequently introduced new styles into society and it was by virtue of his handsome features that it looked good. The long bridge of his nose, full raspberry-colored lips, prominent dark brows and a pair of mesmerizing eyes held a peculiar coldness, but in essence he carried a warmth strong enough to melt iron. The duke was a character born out of a fairy tale with the posture of a soldier and the brain of a scholar. Women dreamed of a worthy man the likes of Seonghwa and men were green with envy whenever his appearance was made. 

Seonghwa chuckled, “I hope it is not that big of a surprise as I intend to find a wife this season.”

“Ah, that does explain your presence indeed and is that the reason behind hosting the first ball of the season, as well?”

Seonghwa pursed his lips, a futile attempt at covering the broad smile fighting to come forth. “You are still quick-witted, I see… Perhaps it is. A man has to assess his range of selection in some way, does he not?”

Yunho nodded, agreeing with the duke, but could not further comment on the matter as the Queen rose from her seat on the red throne, wordlessly silencing the entire hall. She stopped before you and put a finger beneath your chin, guiding you to stand straight. Ireum did not dare to move an inch from the uncomfortable crouched position and your brothers’ held their breaths as if one single intake of air would ruin the moment for you. The Queen’s icy demeanor was a stark contrast to the warmth emitting from her touch. Your heart nearly collapsed as she uttered one single word and blessed you with a tender peck to your forehead.

“Perfection.” 

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, and your previously gracious smile fell into one of bewilderment instead. There was no higher honor than the praise of the royal house. 

Viscount Jeong did not fathom how powerful of a tongue the Queen possessed. He did not manage to step foot outside the royal court without being hounded by at least a dozen eligible gentlemen, asking for a formal introduction to his sister while boasting about their gold mines in the Kingdom of Spain or studies in India. Yunho was overwhelmed and there was still a ball to attend. The interactions would not stop there, as the season had only just begun, but Yunho was already overthrown by a headache not even his finest flask of brandy could cure. As if that was not enough, another headache in disguise of his brother waltzed through the door of his study.

Wooyoung was dressed boldly that evening. The rich red of his tailored jacket was hard to stray away from and one would think he was one of the débutantes searching for a bachelor to court. It seemed to be a trademark for the Jeongs to have gold details carved into anything they touched as Wooyoung’s jacket was embroidered in that particular color. The rest of his suit was all black; slacks, dress shirt and shoes with his dark hair slicked back with stray strands falling over his forehead in a fashion-like manner. The younger was also freshly shaved and Yunho could feel the pinch of his strong cologne on the other end of the room. 

“Oh, Brother! I was sent to fetch you by Mama; it is time to leave yet aga– Pray do tell, why are you not dressed?” 

“I have been busy discarding letters asking for formal introductions to our sister. Would you believe me if I said there have been over ten so far?”

“Well, yes? Have you seen our sister? She is the most beautiful débutante of the lot! They would be foolish not to secure a formal introduction with her, especially when the competition is tight. Each word spoken is one step closer to joining the family, Brother.”

Yunho opened another letter from the big pile on his right. “As if I would let those deuces in the vicinity of our sister. That is a very distasteful approach, I must say… Letters? What do they take me for? A man who remembers every single face I come across… Just take a look at this!”

Dear lord Jeong,

I pray this letter finds you in excellent health and high spirits.

I shall be curt and consistent in my writing. The news of Miss Lee making her debut in society has captivated all of London and I, too, find myself among the gentlemen bewitched by her beauty. Though I am not the first nor the last to seek you out in regard to Miss Lee, the urgency of my sentiments outweighs my concern for the multitude of letters that clutter your study.

It is said Miss Lee’s grace and elegance surpass the high expectations of Her Majesty. Whispers swirl the ton that Miss Lee has secured the esteemed title of the Diamond of the First Water, and I must confess, it is indeed quite fitting, rendering her all the more desirable. As you well know, Miss Lee embodies a kindness and warmth unmatched by her fellow débutantes and is a great trait for nurturing offsprings, a prospect with which I wrestle most ardently. The gentleness and affectionate nature of Miss Lee is to be guarded and protected from the vile eyes of the inappropriate gentlemen and as a frequent patron of the pugilistic club, I stand ready to defend her purity. This, I give you my word for. 

Each new piece of information adds admiration to her character and one cannot help, but ponder what further attributes Miss Lee may possess. I am but an intrigued gentleman who marvels at Miss Lee’s mere existence and I harbor a desire to peruse the remaining chapters of her story.

It would be my utmost privilege to make the acquaintance of Miss Lee. Might we arrange an introduction at His Grace the Duke of Beaumonte’s ball to deliberate upon a potential courtship?

Yours truly–

The paper was torn to bits before Wooyoung could catch the name of the sender. Although he had to agree the choice of words was improbable, he could argue Yunho’s protectiveness was the main reason as to why none of the letters were approved either. Finding you a possible suitor would be harder than anticipated if Yunho did not let up on his hostility, and as your other brother, Wooyoung made it his mission to help you.

“Perhaps I could help you look through the letters after the ball, but it is best you give it a rest now and get dressed, Brother. I doubt Mama would be delighted to know her eldest is the last to be ready considering your title.”

Heeding his words, Yunho slid the rest of the envelopes over the desk and into his first drawer before disappearing into his bedroom. A similar suit jacket to Wooyoung’s hung over his wardrobe, ironed and ready to be put on along with the rest of his attire. It seemed everyone in the Jeong household was to dress in the colors of love, passion, and anger. The guests and hosts attending the balls Yunho was invited to were usually clad in mild colors and he had yet to witness someone come in a starker hue of red, green or blue. He was well aware of his mother’s schemes. You already garnered enough attention with the simple flick of the Queen’s wrist, and Ireum was a smart woman for playing further into that act. Keeping the curious flame of the ton alive by giving you the most breathtaking dresses the people were going to see. Nothing was to halt Ireum from finding her daughter a perfect suitor, with or without the viscount’s permission.

🎼 Descending down the few steps of the carriage, you held a fair amount of your gown while the other hand was clutching Wooyoung’s open palm. The Jeong family was neither early nor late, although it did not matter whichever because people sought after your arrival. Everyone wanted to catch a glimpse of the débutante evoking a pleased reaction from the Queen. They wanted to see for themselves if your beauty was truly unmatched. 

Yunho was the first to exit the carriage followed by Ireum, Wooyoung and lastly you. After your feet met the ground again, Wooyoung delicately passed you onto Yunho. Entering high society meant replacing your simple ballerinas with low-heeled shoes, something you had yet to grow accustomed to.

“Please, do not let go of me,” you whispered and held tightly onto Yunho’s bicep.

“I do not dare dream of it, Sister. In fact, you will not leave my sight this wonderful evening at all.”

Yunho met the eyes of a dozen lust filled men, some of whom could not even keep their tongues from straying past their lips. These were supposed to be chivalrous gentlemen, he thought and scoffed. It was no doubt the red attire — besides your beauty — was making them act ungraciously. Your gown was lengthy and stuck to your waist perfectly, revealing your ample bosom and collarbones. A ruby and gold amulet was sown into the middle of the neckline and you were certain people would not be able to decide what to look at more, your cleavage or the pretty gem. You absolutely loved the color, a deep red reminding you of the stunning roses growing outside your windows or the fresh cherries that were soon in season. The rest of the fabric hung loosely around your legs, granting you the freedom to move more steadily without the fear of falling over. Your shoulders were covered and bejeweled with rosettes and pearls matching those around your neck and ears. To shield you from the summer breeze, the modiste had gifted you a knitted cardigan that you looped your arms through. Ireum insisted on doing your hair as she had done so for many years and learned to style it the way you loved it.

Crossing the short walk to the entrance of Park Manors, you were in awe at the beauty of it all. Disregarding the decorations, the inside was not much different from your own residence; spacious, tiled flooring and high ceilings, a few paintings and statues to liven up the place, even a few flower pots. But as Seonghwa was hosting the season’s opening ball, he made sure to enrich the place with the most outstanding decorations the ton would see. Big hydrangea bushes were planted by the stairs, the different shades of lavender, violet and purple continuously wrapping around the railings and leading the people through the mansion. The walls were a beautiful tapestry of cream white that gave much space to work with any colors the duke wished for, and by the look of the interior, he had chosen all the hues falling under the category purple. Following the stream of people, you and Yunho found yourself standing in the main hall, a big space leaving room for both dancing, socializing and tasting the savory pastries on the sides. 

“This is wonderful,” you said under your breath and kept your eyes on the enormous chandelier suspended in the center of the ceiling. Under the lightning ornate was an orchestra stationed, already playing a pleasant melody as the guests strolled in one after another. 

Yunho hummed in reply and led you to stand by one of the many windows draped over with a lilac curtain. It seemed to be the safest place for the time being, squashed between him and Ireum, whilst your other brother had already managed to snag a glass of champagne and a tart of some kind.

“I do not appreciate the staring, mother.”

“It is expected, my dear,” Ireum answered, completely overlooking Yunho’s unease. She gave your elbow a soft squeeze of comfort. “We shall let them come to you, my ruby.”

As the music took a quick turn from a mellow to a more festive tune, the gentlemen around you pursued the débutantes for a dance. You perked up at the thought of being asked to dance and could nearly not contain your excitement. A suitor of sturdy height and dark hair had kept his eye on you since your arrival and mustered up the courage to advance with the aid of a much older woman you recognized as Lady Kang. She bowed, which all three of you returned.

“Lady Kang, good evening,” Ireum greeted and smiled politely.

“Good evening, Lady Lee, Miss Lee and Lord Jeong. I believe you have not yet met my nephew, Lord Yoon. Nephew, this is Miss Lee, Lady Lee and Lord Jeong.”

“It is my pleasure.”

“Likewise,” you replied and smiled charmingly. He did not look bad, not at all. His suit was elegant too, and he had a cute pair of eyes, very warm and welcoming.

Yunho, being overly observant and on edge since stepping foot in the Park estate, acted with haste. “Lord Yoon, is it not? I believe I do find your name familiar… Ah, right! You are familiar with the fencing club, correct?”

“Very much indeed, Lord Jeong.”

“It is a shame you have not visited in quite some time… Does it perhaps have to do with your failed payment issue? Or was it for acting unruly after conceiving one too many drinks?”

Despite the festive melody surrounding the two families, the atmosphere had thickened at Yunho’s revelation. Lord Yoon was left gaping with red cheeks giving your dress a run for its money as you took a turn about the room, arm hooked with Yunho’s. Ireum was left to deal with the stunt her eldest had caused, apologizing for Yunho’s curt tongue.

“I did not realize…” You began and glanced down at the shiny floor to hide the embarrassment tinting your cheeks.

“It is not easy, dear Sister. But that is precisely why I am here… and Wooyoung too, but we shall not rely all that much on him as of now.”

Yunho steered you in the direction of Wooyoung still standing by the treats, passing all the mamas and débutantes swooning at his presence, not indulging in them for a fraction of a second. Yunho was not interested in courting a lady and would not do so in the vast future either, he had too much on his plate to seek out a perfect candidate to be his wife! You were his main priority now and God help him if you landed in the hands of someone unworthy, like Lord Yoon, for instance. Creasing and plastering on an overly wide smile, you and Yunho walked past the entrance, missing the arrival of three very handsome gentlemen who stole the attention of every lady inside, single as well as married.

Hongjoong was not used to being under the spotlight. No one would think twice to look at him, let alone whisper about his handsome looks and wish he would ask them up on a dance. Then again, this was not his setting at all. Fancy suits, pretty ladies and interiors worth a sum he did not dare to imagine. At least the music was to his taste, he thought and mentally applauded the orchestra for their skilled fingers managing to handle the instruments correctly. Of course they would, they had all the means for it. Envy climbed up his back and threatened to seep into his bones, but the firm weight of San’s hand on his shoulder brought him out of the jealous haze.

“This is…” 

“I know. It is rather overwhelming,” Hongjoong admitted and nervously caressed the front of his white vest. His whole attire was brand new, a little something whisked together by the ton’s modist — a sweet and peculiar man with kind eyes and a soft spoken tone. They were lucky Jongho’s social circle was quite grand otherwise they would have never made it past the gates of Park residency, let alone see the shimmering insides of chandeliers and diamond ornaments.

“Brothers,” Jongho’s deep yet smooth voice called for their attention. How and when he managed to obtain two glasses of champagne was beyond Hongjoong, but the proletariat in disguise did not care as he grabbed the stem of the overly light champagne flute. “Let us be entitled gentlemen for the night.”

The statement was ironic, if something. Out of the three, Jongho was already a gentleman, but the aspiring musician did not correct him. If the owner of Precious wanted to play pretend, then Hongjoong was going to display the best act of his life.

He smiled, the corners of his mouth sharp and his eyes playful as he clinked the edge of his glass with the others, “Let us.”

The intrigued gazes of the remaining guests were not as overwhelming as Hongjoong first thought. After some time, he, along with the Chois, blended in with the rest of the crowd. They stood a bit from the dessert table and snickered at the aristocats under the guise of looking at the sweets. Hongjoong understood why Jongho chose to not socialize with them. Everything they did, from talking to simply existing, was pretentious. 

“Do you do this often?” He eventually asked.

“Laugh at the upper class? Yes.”

“No, I meant this.” Hongjoong gestured to the ballroom. “Attend balls and other events.”

“Ah… Well, not precisely. Although I am an Earl, Hongjoong, it does not grant me invites to every social gathering. I am here merely because I am an acquaintance of the host.”

“Where is the man of the hour, anyway? Should the host, I do not know, maybe tend to his duties?”

“His Grace is full of surprises. Everything he does is unexpected. Who knows, perhaps he will not even show, but I do doubt that. It is said he is intending to marry this season.”

Another entitled prick added to Hongjoong’s never-ending list of arrogant nobles. Sipping on the bubbly champagne that left a sour taste on his tongue, he watched as a new round of waltz lured the gentlemen to the waiting ladies. Soon enough the room was in full swing and truthfully, it was making him dizzy. All the spinning and changing partners and maintaining the beat—what an exhausting activity. The people standing on the sidelines, much like Hongjoong, enjoyed the festivities of the ball and he wondered if they had nothing better to do than eat sugary treats, gossip and fantasize about romantic endeavors. Not that he could be one to complain, his free time was spent writing poems and music sheets, more precisely piano scores. 

🎼 As the current round of dancing came to an end, the orchestra stopped their performance, making everyone turn their heads in confusion. Their questions were answered as a pair of white doors separated and someone of high status, Hongjoong presumed, entered through simultaneously as the violinists of the orchestra drew their bow across the strings of the instrument. He was mid-sip when the whole room erupted in gasps and murmurs of awe, startling him and having a gulp of bubbly champagne slip into the wrong pipe. Throwing a hand over his mouth to lessen the violent coughs, his eyes widened to the size of the duke’s saucers as they fell on an elegant man knocking the wind out of everyone. It did not matter how well-dressed Hongjoong was or what kind of attire the modiste brought out, no one could match up against–

“His Grace the Duke of Beaumonte!”

Hongjoong could not believe what he was seeing. The duke was simply a flower and every lady, along with their mama, were bees eagerly waiting to get a taste of his pollen. Loyal to the theme, he decided to dress in a velvet suit the color of moonvistas and wisterias. The white damask pattern on the vest was divine and matched his cravat and gloves. Every corner of the room erupted with ‘Your Grace’ as the man passed them, exchanging polite smiles, but not lingering any longer than necessary. What a presumptuous bastard, Hongjoong thought and masked his disgusted scoff with another cough.

The hundred pairs of eyes burned into the body of the duke, never letting him out of their sight, but Hongjoong could not bother to keep looking at him. The host was vexing the green monster inside of him by existing. It was incredible how the toss of a coin pre-birth could determine the outcome for the rest of one’s life. The title was passed down to the duke because of the time and place of his birth. That could have been Hongjoong, San or even Jongho had they come out of the duke’s mother instead.

“Perhaps we should greet His Grace?” San suggested and adjusted his cravat.

“You really believe that would be a wise thing to do? I mean, those hounding him are mainly ladies. What socializing topic could we have to offer him? Perhaps indulge him in your boxing club or– Oh, I know, I can share some of my work and see if he will hire me as a pianist!” The sarcasm did not go misheard and San deflated at the hostility lacing Hongjoong’s voice. The elder quickly regretted his harsh words and patted his friend on the back. “I am deeply sorry, San. That was unjust of me.”

“All is well. It was a foolish suggestion anyway.”

Before Hongjoong could reprimand him for his chastising demeanor, Jongho cleared his throat. “I could formally introduce you. I am quite close to His Grace, after all.”

“You never told me of your connections with a duke?!” San whisper-yelled into his cousin’s ear. “Now you must introduce us, see it as your payment for being dishonest.”

Sighing, Hongjoong replaced his empty glass with another full one. If he was going to turn his nobility act up a notch, he would need more alcohol in his system. Mimicking Jongho’s stance, Hongjoong and San straightened their postures and formed their expressions to make it seem as if they were of important background, all while feigning joy from attending the event. Despite being the shortest of the trio — courtesy of Hongjoong’s heeled shoes making him a few inches taller — Jongho took the lead and maneuvered through the sea of people.

“Your Grace!” He called and the swarm of ladies gathered around the duke dispersed with annoyance dragging their features. 

The stoic expression of the duke lit up brighter than the chandelier above his head. “Jongho! I am delighted you could come!” The men sealed the greeting with a firm handshake, both sporting wide smiles and stars glinting in their eyes. It was one thing to drop formalities with an underdog, but to be on first name-basis with a duke was so foreign to Hongjoong’s ears.

“I hope Spain has treated you well?”

“Certainly it has. Very beautiful weather and polite people. I wish to return after the social season… Possibly with my future wife if everything goes as planned.”

“And I am sure it will. You are the Duke of Beaumonte after all, it should not be a harder task than the piles of paperwork you have worked through in your life.”

Seonghwa let out a hearty laugh. “No, it should not, but I do want a genuine lady and not someone who is after my title. Perhaps, if I am bold enough, I may even hope for a love match.”

“I would not put it past you, Park. Anything can happen while the season is still in bloom.” Jongho winked and sipped on the champagne. The clearing of San’s throat diverted the conversation to the pair standing slightly behind Jongho. “Yes, of course. Your Grace, may I introduce my cousin, San, and our very good friend, Hongjoong."

“Well, gentlemen, I hope the evening is up to your taste.”

“It very much is! I adore the theme and colors of the decorations, it is very soft and not flamboyant as most balls are,” San admitted and although he did not have anything to compare it to, he was genuine with his compliment.

“Thank you! I deemed it most fitting to decorate everything in my favorite color, as you may have noticed on my suit.”

“Yes! A very el–”

“If you will excuse me for a moment, I need to use the restroom,” Hongjoong interrupted. The duke had not done anything particular to upset him, he was simply not in the setting to discuss the elements of the interior while he would later return to his rundown bedroom in the basement of San’s boxing club.

“Of course. Take left in the hall followed by the second turn on your right, continue on the path and turn on the first left, and you shall find the restrooms. Do not worry if you get lost on your way, there are servants and guards roaming the halls so feel free to ask for directions.”

All Hongjoong heard was, ‘Do what you want as long as you do not get caught.’ With his disappearance, the duke excused himself for a moment and took a turn around the room. It was lovely seeing familiar and genuine faces, not just people showing up out of curiosity or interest for Seonghwa’s business. Jongho was one of the few nobility he could stand and actually enjoy the company of without fearing possible ulterior motives.

You bowed to your dancing partner, an Earl you could not bother to remember his righteous piece of land, and returned to the safety of Yunho.

“Did he step on your toes?”

“No, Brother.”

“Then why did you make such a horrid face mid-dance?”

You contemplated whether to share the fragment of conversation between you and Lord Emberstorm that pulled on the corners of your mouth, estimating how furious Yunho would be after hearing what distasteful words stumbled out of the Lord’s mouth. Deciding to keep it a secret for you to bear and your diary to hear, you offered a bright smile and averted the topic elsewhere. 

“I am quite parched, Brother. If you will excuse me–”

An imitation of a cough halted you mid sentence, and you hastily turned around, expecting to be met with another request for a dance. What you did not expect to see was–

“Mister Song!” If it were not for the public setting, you would have your arms wrapped around the gentleman’s neck and cheek mushed against his. Instead, you settled for a simple nod of your head and a foot of space between your bodies. 

“Miss Lee, what a blessing to stumble upon you here.” The underlying tone of amusement did not go unheard. 

“Certainly it is, Mister Song. Have you finally come out of your cocoon to find the perfect eligible lady or are you still running from them?” 

“The world would not be spinning if I was intending to marry.”

You broke out in a fit of giggles, uncaring for the weird stares and whispers set off around you. At the end of the day, everyone dear to you knew of your and Mingi’s sturdy friendship. You harbored a love that was frowned upon considering your closeness despite being of opposite genders.

There was a point in your lives where both pairs of parents considered Mingi to be a perfect suitor and you to make a wonderful wife. You were perhaps five years of age and they considered the blooming friendship to grow past the platonic stage and into something more romantic, but with your father’s passing and Yunho taking over the role as viscount, your brother abolished the arrangement. The Songs did not take kindly to that and nearly burned the bridge you and Mingi built since childhood. Yet more than a handful of years later and you were still as close as ever. Besides, Mingi was not like the other boys you knew of. He was kind and soft and genuine, despite his big build and long legs always making him the most fearsome in the room, he could never spread evil onto anybody, even if he tried to. Mingi was the purest form of life you had ever seen and you could not understand what others saw in him to picture anything, but a shield of comfort and warmth.

The idea Mingi proposed after your thirteenth birthday — that if neither of you were married after your twenty-fifth year alive, you would marry each other mainly for the purpose of survival and an easy life — was proof of his kind nature and good willed heart. Though, to say you were appalled was an understatement. You immediately declined his proposition despite him providing you with a further explanation. It was first when he revealed the secret tucked far away in his chest, hidden behind his many ribs and lungs, and locked in the depths of his pumping heart, with the thought that it shall never see daylight that you allowed him to speak. In the end, perhaps you only agreed to it because he admitted you were the only woman he could consider himself to marry. The pact was sealed with a handshake and your promise to keep secrecy until soil covered your putrefying body. 

A love with Mingi was not horrifying compared to a long life with a stranger because a love with Mingi could never go beyond that of a friendship as he did not fancy women.

“Mister Song.” Yunho stepped out from his place behind you, arms behind his back and a soft smile on his cupid lips. 

“Luh… Lo– Lord Je… Uhm! Lord Jeong,” Mingi stuttered out a response. All of the blood in his body gathered beneath the skin of his cheeks as if the sun kissed him in the morning and left him cursed for all of eternity. It was painful to witness, but it was even harder to watch as your brother was oblivious to the flushed mess standing before him, barely keeping his wits together.

“I admire your suit. You shine everyone else down.”

Mingi’s eyes were so devoid of expression you could see the light reflecting in them as he held Lord Jeong's gaze, then glanced down at his clothes and back up at Yunho. Could it be that the viscount was indeed attempting a most audacious flirtation?

“What?”

Yunho chuckled at his dumbfoundedness and had to cover his mouth to avoid garnering too much attention from the people around them. He and Mingi were nothing more than acquaintances tied together through you. They never had the opportunity or perhaps interest to form a friendship and it was mainly because of their different ranks in society. While Yunho became a viscount at an unimaginable young age, Mingi was still in line for the title and had no real task beside scouting his father and gathering as much information as possible. Mingi was undoubtedly still a child in Yunho’s mind and the thought was bitter on his tongue, like the coffee grounded from the beans imported from India. 

The elder said nothing more. He pressed his lips into a taunting smirk, eyes relaxed and focused on Mingi despite everything moving around them in a haste enough to have their heads spinning of nausea. 

Sensing the air thicken and turn warmer around the men, you gingerly moved without disturbing their quiet conversation conveyed through the windows of their souls. It was not encouraged to venture into an event without a chaperone as whispers quickly traveled around the ton, especially concerning a lady who made her debut not twenty-four hours ago. Walking with your head still on the tall pair, you did not see the figure standing in your way until a collision occurred.

“Pardon me–” The words died in your throat as icy eyes belonging to no other than the duke cut into your core. Scrambling to restore your dignity, you swallowed the thick clump of anxiety and sputtered out an apology. Meeting the duke by carelessly bumping into him on the first ball of the season was not on your agenda. Making a fool of yourself was certainly not an achievement you fought to attain either. “Your Grace, pardon me for my inattentive behavior!”

A hum, dare you say not of disgust, reached your ears. You looked up and came to view with a dazzling smile that spread an assuring warmth through your body. The fear sticking its claws into your back melted and you straightened back up again. 

“It is quite alright, Miss…?”

“Ah…" You curtsied perfectly, "Miss Lee, sister of Viscount Jeong.”

It may have been the stark light of the chandelier or one of the many cherry tarts you consumed through the night, but you were certain a spark of recognition flashed across his face. You would not name it eerie, but it was on the edge of being unsettling how long he was staring at you. On cue, the orchestra played another song and people gathered in pairs to participate in the dance. Seonghwa cleared his throat and let his palm face the ceiling, steady and determined. Everyone kept their sights on the duke, and as he was standing in front of you, a promising position that could only mean one thing, it made you be in their center of attention too. A sudden dread settled in the pit of your stomach. Taking a quick glance around the room, you meet the burning glares of mamas and their daughters, as well as the disappointed looks of various gentlemen. The feeling of being perceived was uncommon and your thoughts simmered and eventually began bubbling erratically with questions of what-ifs. You were ready to take your leave, to excuse yourself and run to a place secluded from everyone and their prying eyes and judging whispers. 

“Miss Lee,” Seonghwa started and brought forth a pencil from his breast pocket. You were by no means a fortune teller, but there was no doubt in your mind he was going to ask you for a dance. The question leaving his mouth seconds after made you consider opening a magic shop on the other side of London. “May I have this dance?”

If Yunho was anywhere near you and not distracted by Mingi’s cute, rambling mess, he would have pushed you straight into the duke’s arms. To your relief, Yunho was occupied with Mingi’s questions about being a viscount to even consider what his dear sister was up to. The consent was expected to roll off your tongue and disappoint the gentleman, but anger the ladies.

“You must excuse me, Your Grace! I seem to hear my brothers calling for me!”

Your legs moved faster than your sight, and you nearly bumped into an elderly couple. Flustered and sweaty, you whispered out a hasty apology and ran toward a room you deemed to have the least amount of people in it. Seonghwa managed to utter as much as a breath before you were gone, lost between the sea of people and walking in the opposite direction of your brother. While he was supposed to feel irrevocable annoyance at your dishonesty, he could not stop the amused smile from lingering on his face. You were quite a peculiar lady, he thought and exhaled a strong gust of wind. If the duke was charmed by your beauty earlier that day, he was more than intrigued now. 

Running around unchaperoned on your first night as an eligible woman was not appreciated by the mamas standing uncomfortably close to their sons. Their judgmental glares stemmed from a place deep within, from a place of concern over what kind of woman their sons would take interest in. It said plenty to see you alone, neither of the Jeong brothers nor that mother of yours that married twice by your side. They do say the apple does not fall far from the tree. No one wanted to welcome a woman carrying the curse of death in her purse with open arms only to later bury their son six feet underground. 

Out of respect for your family’s name and honor, but also to protect your own feelings, you stumbled up the big beautiful staircase by the entrance and turned left and right until you were alone with the walls and striking interior to keep you company. If Yunho got a whim of what you were doing, he would be beyond furious. Instead of socializing downstairs, you opted to hide out in one of the many rooms upstairs. You could already hear his patronizing voice in the back of your mind, asking you how you thought to be courted if you were out of sight for the majority of the night. Would you expect a suitor to fall through your bedroom ceiling? 

🎼 Yunho’s nagging came to an end as a faint melody filled the silent hallway and sailed your thoughts elsewhere. Caught in its waves, you followed the mellifluous notes. If you were a sailor, then the player was a siren guiding you to your demise with their lulling melody. The further you walked, the louder the sound became and you recognized it as piano notes. Each press of their fingers on the keys was a chord striking along with your heart and your own fingers itched to dance along the white and black surface. The long hallway led to many different rooms, all of them shut except one with its door ajar and a string of light cutting across the tiled floor. 

You moved slowly, afraid to accidentally touch the door or disturb the mystery musician, and peeked through the tight opening. Out of all the impressive things you had witnessed that evening, this room would forever be engraved in your memories. In the center of the room by the big window sat a man in front of a dark oak piano, breathing life into the silence. All you could see was his back, a suit the color of snow, and caramel hair reaching his shoulder blades. What a peculiar style for a gentleman, you thought. 

Instruments were placed into every nook and cranny of the room. Guitars, violins, cellos, the pianoforte. This was everything you could ever ask for. You were not aware of His Grace‘s interest in music, perhaps your brother could formally introduce you to the duke later. Looking past the expensive equipment, you took in the room for what it was. The walls were a deep red contrasted by the champagne-carved details on the tapestry and rosewood furniture filled the room, everything from bookshelves to uncomfortable-looking desks and chairs, even a few sofas here and there. As every room of the Park manor seemed to have, even this one was lit up by a chandelier — albeit smaller than the one in the main hall — in the center, right above the pianist. 

He was on the last segment of the melody and you slipped into the room quiet as a mouse stealing cheese from the pantry, but stayed close to the door where the man could not see you until he had turned around. The song was beautiful, far better than anything created by the professional orchestra downstairs. This man was a proficient player and you wondered if you too could have been this talented if your mother had not established the foolish rule in the Jeong Household. 

As the man pressed his fingers on the keys and let them linger until the last notes vanished to silence, your feet got caught on the end of your dress, sending you tumbling forward. Blessed be the chair in your way as it saved you from falling in front of the pianist. The screech of its legs was so thunderous and sudden that it had the man jumping from his seat as if physically burned by the keyboard. The clash of your eyes froze you in place. Not only was his playing enchanting, but his appearance deserved a place amongst the many portraits hanging on the walls. The pianist you had yet to learn the name of was the most handsome man in all of London and you believed he even challenged the duke for his looks. The silence stretched on and your face burned hotter than the fireplace in your living room. Upholding your image, you brought forth your hand and cleared your throat just enough for you to hear. 

“Eh– Excuse my intrusiveness, Mr…!” 

Despite the fear swimming in his eyes and his heart thumping louder than the music downstairs, Hongjoong schooled his expression into that of a relaxed man. You did not seem to have any ill intentions in mind, but he could not take his chances. For all he knew, you could be of great relation with the duke and have him arrested for trespassing. His music playing was not meant for anyone to hear or see. He did not think anyone would be as foolish or brave as him to explore the second floor in spite of it being a restricted area for the evening. Hongjoong hid his sweaty palms in the smooth pockets of his trousers and slipped on a — hopefully — charming smile. 

“You may call me Hongjoong.”

An unchaperoned lady in the presence of an eligible man in a secluded area far from the party downstairs was a risk you could pay for the rest of your life. A barque of frailty, cyprian, doxy, a light-skirt were only some of the vile words that came to life anytime Ireum stepped out of the confines of your home after the passing of your papa and you wished not to know what insults you would be addressed with. Although you did not witness it, you knew it weighed heavily on her. To hear the other mamas speak poorly of her and criticize her parenting, all for being brave enough to search for another love. It was unfair. Ireum’s past was fresh in your memory, but apparently you gave it no heed as you did not run from the man standing in front of you, his hair wild and uncommon and eyes carrying a gleam of adventure. To call a stranger by his name was no better than shaking hands with the devil and your brother would have your head for it, but what Yunho did not know could not harm him. 

Pulling your lips into a polite smile, you scribbled your name on the imaginary paper and handed it back to the red figure with sharp horns and a pointy tail. “It is a great pleasure to meet you, Huh–” You cleared your throat and ignored the flare of your cheeks. “Hongjoong. As I mentioned, I apologize for interrupting. You play a divine tune on the pianoforte.”

Hongjoong turned scarlet at the compliment. Praise was foreign to his ears. Yes, he was constantly showered with love and gratitude from San, but it could not be compared to hearing the words come from a pretty lady of presumed high status. 

“It is alright… Thank you, Miss–”

“Miss Lee. You may perhaps have heard of me, I am the sister of Viscount Jeong.”

It was no surprise all members of the ton were the same, they bled arrogance more than anything else. How pompous of you to think he would know of your name or origin, if only you would have known how many foreign faces Hongjoong had set eyes on. His lips set into a thin line and the fear swimming in his eyes was swallowed by sheer annoyance. “I cannot say I have… To be frank, I am not from this part of the country, nor am I familiar with the duke either.”

“Oh…” You squeaked, only then realizing how improper that sounded. “Well, please, pardon me for my pretentiousness. It was quite naive of me to assume such a thing.”

In the span of less than five minutes, you managed to surprise Hongjoong three times. The simmering emotion threatening to bubble over calmed within him and he did not understand why. Perhaps it was your sincere apology or the way you cowered in on yourself, or it was simply Hongjoong’s mind taking pity on pretty, young girls. Nonetheless, he could see himself on the same podium as the gentlemen in the longhats chatting shit and sipping wine while doing nothing but sit on their rears all day. He was in the vicinity of a lady for all of five minutes and he already managed to sour the mood. Noticing you had not budged from your spot since entering the room and began fiddling with your fingers, he decided to play nice for once. Who knew, maybe it would bring him good fortune?

“Are you familiar with the pianoforte?”

“Hm?” 

He jutted his thumb out over his shoulder. “The pianoforte? Do you play it?”

The smile taking over your features could be described as the sun on a winter morning doing little to warm the earth, but enough to brighten the cold season. “Not precise, but I was very keen on learning it.”

A caramel brow shot up. You were? When did you manage to find and lose the interest in learning the piano? Musicians were one of the few who kept their hobbies alive for most of their lives. Not that Hongjoong had much knowledge on the way things worked in the ton, but was it not better for a lady to have more talents for a better chance of getting married?

“And it is safe to assume the interest died… because?” 

“It is quite the story.”

“I believe we have time.”

You heaved in a sigh and ran your palm along the front of your dress. “My papa had a big love for music and I, wanting to be just like him, harbored that same passion… He passed shortly after my seventh birthday and never got around to teach me…” You avoided Hongjoong’s heated gaze by bouncing your eyes all around the room. “The piano was a means for me to stay connected to him, but the melodies became unbearable for my mother. It brought her great pain just to see it in the common room every day. So… she decided to ban all and any music in the house…”

“My apologies, Miss Lee. I should not have asked–”

“It is not a difficult topic, so rest assured everything is alright. On the contrary, I am delighted you asked. I do not remember the last time I spoke of both my papa and our passion for playing.” 

Overthrown by the feeling of guilt settling in the pit of his stomach, Hongjoong rounded the stool and occupied the left side, leaving a vacant spot on his right. He beckoned you over with a wave of his hand.

“You will not leave me waiting, will you now, Miss Lee?”

The teasing tilt to his voice was an enchanting spell pulling your feet further into the room that you could not disobey and it sounded louder than the slow church bells in the back of your head. The heedless caution of leaving a safe enough space between you died faster than a daylily. You had already crossed every line drawn to protect your innocence from staining and it was still clear as a day. What harm could it bring to sit by a handsome pianist? Taking the seat beside him would leave no room for defense if anyone were to catch sight of you. 

Hongjoong noticed your reluctance and turned his torso facing you. “You are to do as you please, Miss Lee. I can not and do not wish to force you into anything… I do apologize if I am crossing any boundaries, it was not my intention.”

“See it as– as– as you asking me for a dance! I will even allow you to sign my dance card, if you will.”

Pushing the worry of being the main talk of the season to the back of your mind, you occupied the vacant seat and tried, with all your might, to ignore the burn of his thigh pressed against yours and the slight caress of your elbows. A heat warmer than on a summer afternoon grazed your bare arms. Picking your head up from the peculiarly interesting spot on the piano, you gazed into the wide eyes of Hongjoong that eventually creased as his lips curled cutely.

“That would be more than alright. May I?”

As his left hand reached for the pencil lying on the music stand, the other faced the high ceiling of the room. His slender fingers were far from elegant and soft, but rather rough and calloused, reminding you of the elderly men tending to your garden. Nonetheless, you let the dance card fall in his palm and watched as he in one long stroke signed the last vacant row.

“Shall we?” He played a major chord and you let a giggle slip past your lips.

You did not touch the wooden instrument or breathe during his performance. It was a melody too beautiful to do anything but bask in. You simply allowed the uplifting and bright sounds to wrap around the two of you, separating you from the party downstairs. Hongjoong was a different person while behind the piano, you noticed. He closed his eyes and relaxed, becoming one with the music. For a minute you got lost in the beauty of his passion and sensed his love for the instrument emerge from him like sunshine escaping the confines of a cloudy sky. As the last notes spilled out in the room, you quickly reverted your focus elsewhere, but unbeknownst to you, he felt your eyes on him throughout the whole song.

“If I may ask…” You broke the silence, hands intertwined and resting on your lap. “Who taught you to play the pianoforte?”

Hongjoong pressed down on a random set of keys and hummed along to the notes. “No one. I am… self-taught.”

The mystery man was leaving you shellshocked once again. The dozen pianists occupying the dance floor in the main hall were skilled players because of the money in their fathers’ pockets, but Hongjoong was not in need of a teacher.

Talent could not be forced, was what your papa used to say as you sat in his lap before the big instrument while your mama diligently fiddled with an embroidery frame on the other side of the room, her belly round and ready to welcome the growing baby any day. Your papa refused to pay for tutors. He claimed talent and passion ran in your blood and you were too good for a teacher even at the ripe age of three. The late Viscount Lee did not withhold the truth, but before your talent was given the chance to bloom it was put to rest alongside him in his coffin. However, listening and witnessing Hongjoong handle the piano with care and expertise rekindled the flame that died out years ago, and perhaps with the help of another, it could be polished and restored to what it once was.

Scooting closer to the gentleman and pushing your already accentuated chest between your arms — a manner you had witnessed Ireum do countless times while in disagreements with your father to get what she wanted — you executed the mischievous plan with gentle swats of your eyelids. “Such remarkable talent you possess, Hongjoong.” 

Honey to go with his tea was not an option for Hongjoong at the breakfast table, but he imagined it to taste as sweet as you sounded. It was almost hard to swallow his thickened spit as you beamed that sugary smile of yours. The bare night sky bore witness to your intimate moment and promised no rain pour for the foreseeable future, and Hongjoong could erase the thought of handing you his suit jacket — a means of protection from the droplets threatening to melt you at contact. Forgetting himself, Hongjoong hastily averted his attention back to the big instrument and cleared his throat, but could not hinder the stutter from latching onto his words.

“Th– thank you, Miss Lee.” 

Darting your tongue over your bottom lip as you contemplated your next move — a gamble that could set off Mingi’s proposition five years too early — you reached out and put your hand on his forearm closest to you. The man stiffened beneath your feathery touch and his fingers froze above the keys. This was not the outcome you expected. Hongjoong did not fall under the spell as the gentlemen did for Ireum’s vixen eyes and seductive touch, and your consciousness was halfway down the hole of regret and anxiety before you could play it off as brushing dust off his clothes. The fear of being reduced to nothing but a woman of easy virtue loomed over your head and you forced yourself to proceed with the plan.

“I must confess, a twinge of jealousy arises within me hearing you play. It would be marvelous to possess the ability to play the piano as you do…” The finishing touch was to slowly retract your hand and leave a tingling trail on the wake of his arm, and end it with a big, mournful sigh. 

“If it pleases you,” he slowly started and you watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. Being in that close vicinity of a man not belonging to your kin set off a wildfire spreading throughout your whole body. It did not help that Hongjoong was a very attractive gentleman who, thus far, had only shown you kindness. The layer of clothing suddenly became uncomfortable and you longed for a glass of water or a change of clothes, if not both. “...I would be delighted to demonstrate a few simple melodies.”

The act of a dejected woman disappeared and Hongjoong could bask in the light emitting from your bright smile and twinkling eyes. Perhaps it was the very reason he did not inquire about the sudden alteration in your demeanor and gave you a sincere smile of his own.

“Your kindness is most appreciated!”

The late Viscount Lee stood correct as your sponge of a brain absorbed every word Hongjoong uttered and mimicked his motions with utmost perfection. Playing the pianoforte was in your veins and it was a shame Ireum forbade it. Though if the circumstance was different, it would still not change the possibility of playing in public. If one woman did not stoop in your way, then your own female features would. A man with your talents would thrive in high society, but you would only be allowed to play in the confines of your home and even that you were not allowed. The human mind was a peculiar thing. When you finally got around your family and achieved the one thing making you happy, it was still not enough.

Hongjoong’s chuckle brought you out of your blue stupor. “You are a swift learner and possess notable talent at the pianoforte as well, Miss Lee. A most natural talent, if I may declare.”

“Thank you…” 

Greed and envy hid in the cracks of your gratitude, and had you gone beneath a knife your insides would bleed a poisonous green. The three melodies he taught you were certainly not enough to quench your insatiable desire, on the contrary. Having tasted a speck of your dreams made it hard to resist the yearn for the entirety of the feast. The youngest of the Jeong Household was not usually bold, but one might attribute it to Hongjoong’s welcoming nature and dazzling smile. Had the circumstances been different, if he had turned the other cheek and ignored your stumbling presence, you would have excused yourself and returned to the safety of your brothers. But he did not. Hongjoong entertained your curiosity and pointed out a branch of excitement you had no prior knowledge of. 

“Shall… “ You began quietly and cleared your throat. “Shall you be kind enough to teach me the art of playing the pianoforte?”

The grandfather clock ticking in the corner could barely be heard over your thumping heart. If you thought you crossed Hongjoong’s boundaries before, then you were certain you had done it now if the look of his wide eyes and parted lips were anything to go by. 

“I do admire your eagerness to learn, Miss Lee, but it would not be an ideal situation. You are a débutante and I am but a simple gentleman. Our gatherings would certainly garner unwanted attention and be in the way of you finding a suitable husband.”

“It would not be done in public!” 

Because if either of your brothers got whim of your absurd idea, you would not be allowed to leave the foyer of your house, let alone accompany him to more balls in search for a partner. 

Hongjoong still showed apprehensiveness, but you knew that the one thing no man could turn down ��� except ladies of the evening — was money. Everyone was always eager for more gold and you prayed Hongjoong was not an exception, as he had shown to be multiple times this night.

“An– And your services would not be free of charge, of course!”

The proposition was not bad, Hongjoong thought and raked his mind weighing the benefits and disadvantages. Teaching a presumptuous lady how to play the piano equaled pockets full of money, less dirty floors to scrub and him getting to practice on a real piano every once in a while. The downside of your brothers having his head on a platter would only come true if you were caught which did not sound too bad of a gamble. 

“The question remains of how we are to do this, Miss pianist?”

Too happy to care about the heat attacking your face, you held your hand out for him to shake. The warmth of his fingers burned through your glove and kissed the skin on your palm, a feeling that you soon would find reminiscing for days on end.

“Meet me at the town's square two days from now and we shall further discuss our arragnement.”

With a nod of his head, the pianist waltzed straight into the agreement blinded by the shimmering coins floating before his eyes. The celebration was cut short as an eerily creak broke you apart. Both snapped your heads toward the sound only to witness one side of the double doors opened as if given a little nudge from the other side. Fear coiled around your feet and up your legs. You could not remember if you had closed the doors properly or not and your uncertainty did not calm the storm brewing in your abdomen. 

“Perhaps it is merely the wind,” Hongjoong suggested feebly, his words taking on the form of a sword and sliced the snake crawling further up your waist. What possible wind he could be referring to was beyond you, but it was easier to deny reality than fall into a spiral panic. Besides, who in all of London would prefer being upstairs than enjoying the presence of the duke down below?

Time scurried on without your knowledge, yet the loud clash of the grandfather clock striking midnight was not the cause of you parting ways. The harmless scare was enough of a sign to reclaim your designated position next to Yunho and not bat an eye at Hongjoong’s figure sliding through the crowd of guests seconds after your return. The forty-eight hours of waiting began as of now and it may have been the longest forty-eight hours of your life.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[reasonsforhope]

Hope is something you learn

Here's the thing: I'm not a naturally hopeful person.

I'm not running a good news blog because I've always naturally gravitated toward good news. I'm not running a blog titled "reasons for hope" because hope is something that comes easily to me

It's actually the complete opposite. Teenage me was a giant cynic and a sarcastic pessimist and probably regarded as a killjoy, tbh. Picture a young, bespectacled, well-informed raincloud, maybe, idk. I could find a negative point to undermine just about anything

Nowadays, I'm one of the most hopeful people I know when it comes to the future - especially among people who actually follow the news

So, if you're feeling hopeless or depressed or anxious or despairing - or all and more - about the state of the world, and you're tired of feeling that way, I want you to know that you absolutely do not have to be a naturally hopeful or optimistic person in order to find hope

I got here because I struggled and clawed my way to hope, deliberately, because I needed it desperately. And the start of that path was bookmarking good news websites and checking them every day - which is why I built this blog

Here's the thing: the news, social media, and the human brain itself are all very biased toward negativity. The human brain is wired this way to help us survive things like tiger attacks - and since people are biased toward negative information, they click on it more, so negativity generates way more clicks and makes way more money.

It's a sucky, vicious cycle. But it doesn't accurately reflect reality - that's the whole point of bias.

It's actually kinda irritating that it's true, imho, but your focus really does determine (a lot of) your reality

If you want to have hope, sometimes you need to build it yourself. Even when it's so hard you don't know if you ever can. And then you need to keep building it, because the world isn't static and neither does your brain. Hope needs maintenance, just like everything else

So it's lucky, then, that human beings and the world are both generally better than we think - and certainly better than news or social media is willing to tell us

Sources Human brain negativity bias: x, x, x, x, x, x News negativity bias: x, x, x, x, x Social media negativity bias: x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x