#that I don't drink. which was a surprise I wasn't expecting considering past experiences

[no-passaran]

It doesn't matter how much you post about transgression and being proud to be weird and queer as in fuck you and going against society's expected behaviours if you then turn around to ridicule and infantilize the people who diverge in other ways that aren't the same ones as yours or the couple more that internet discourse has made you care about.

I'm saying this because of a poll going around in my dash (won't link because it's not a matter of these people in particular, it's much more widespread) asking people if they've taken a certain drug and people commenting different variations of 'why has this poll only reached children' or not believing the results when they see that most of the voters say no. I assure you most people (specially young people) who don't like the things that are expected of them like going out on clubs and drinking alcohol and doing some of the popular drugs of their subculture are already getting enough shit for it and don't need any more people trying to shame them into following the majority or telling them they're children for doing what they choose and not what others think is the Correct and Appropriate Hobby for this age group/demographic.

I never see this term in English-speaking internet but Latin American activism often talks of the 'right to the free development of personality'. Maybe it needs to go viral before many people really take it into account and get rid of the ideas that their hobbies, their interests and their way of living are the only correct ones and everyone else has something wrong with them or hasn't grown up, because clearly you can't be a healthy adult and not be just like them. There are always going to be people who like different things on Earth, and we can only get used to it.

[janeaustenprotagonist]

"and he said "it's supposed to be fun turning 21"

the annual birthday breakdown.

you hear all these people talking about what if you talked to 14 year old you, what would they say? well 14 year old me would be disappointed in us. 14 year old me would wonder why I haven't gone to the golden globes, or emmys, or tonys. 14 year old me would ask why we didn't get into college for opera and why we didn't get into the program. they'd ask why I'm in a wheelchair bc we're perfectly "able bodied." they'd ask why I'm sick bc we're "not sick." they'd ask why were not famous yet. they'd ask why we haven't been successful yet. they'd ask why am I considering alternative career routes bc "there can't be any backup plans, then you won't make it." they'd ask why I'm not living in New York. they'd ask why I don't have an agent. they'd ask why is all the sides and scripts and sheet music just collecting dust. they'd ask why I failed to live out our dream.

my mother came to me the other day and asked what I wanted to do for my 21st birthday. I said I didn't know I wasn't really thinking about it. she said I was "too old" for these silly birthday breakdowns. I see birthdays as a time to reflect on the past year and years prior, to see if I succeeded in everything I wanted to experience. every. single. year. I fail to meet those expectations. every single year, I fail myself. every single year I fail.

this year I thought it would be different, for some asinine reason. I'm not entirely sure why I thought I'd be okay this year, why I wouldn't breakdown this year. my birthday is sunday. happy fucking birthday to me. I'm turning the exciting age of 21. everyone is always excited for 21, it's the age you can legally drink and purchase some... other stuff as well. but I can't drink. my liver decided to try to commit s@/cide in december. so all of the quote on quote "fun" I can have on my birthday is completely ripped out from under me.

here's a fun little timeline of my birthdays

9-15: dad wasn't there

16: dad was there, but barely. got sushi and to see wicked.

17: my aunt died a week prior, so my birthday sucked. I had to stay at my other aunt's house and it really fucking sucked.

18: I tried to turn things around by planning a little online birthday party for myself playing online cards against humanity with a few of my best friends and my (now ex) fiancé. but surprise surprise, everyone except one bailed on my birthday INCLUDING MY EX FIANCÉ who claimed to need to "write an essay," but words whispered he was actually cheating on me with the umpteenth girl.

19: had classes the day of my birthday and my (now ex) gf ignored me the whole day and then a week TO THE DAY after my birthday I was diagnosed with RARE BRAIN CANCER and LOST THE ABILITY TO WALK DUE TO SMALL NERVE NEUROPATHY.

20: my uncle died a week before my birthday (SAME DAY AS MY AUNT), all my extended family came to live with us. my (now ex) bf broke up with me a WEEK BEFORE MY BIRTHDAY. through. a. fucking. text. a couple of my friends took me out for the day and we made a day of it and I got a build a bear which I love but fuckola.

now, 21. I once referred to a year an "unwanted visitor," but I believe this age is even less wanted than the year. I now have a lovely partner who dotes over me and makes me feel like I am a goddess, I have friends who love me and make me feel wanted. and I'm on antidepressants. I'm happy, I really am and it's shocking to read after this long of a post. but as you can see, I struggle with my birthday. I struggle with it immensely. my partner was trying to plan something for my birthday but shit kept getting in the way and of course now he can't get off work. he already made plans with me for the first day he has off but fuck.

I feel like everything always falls apart around my birthday. people begin fighting. others become severely depressed. it's that last push of winter before the spring flowers break ground.

I always feel as if I never truly celebrate my birthday. others celebrate it, but not me. it's an out of body experience. I don't feel real or to exist in this realm on that day. I feel incredibly empty on that day. I try to look happy and try to look excited, play the part for the camera. it's difficult to hide the ripped up quick, and scabs scarring from being picked. the waterworks welling in my eyes, one blow and it'll drown us all. I hate my birthday.

maybe if I took it as something it's not like most. maybe if I took it as something fun rather than a day to reflect. maybe if I took it as a day to relax rather than sobbing into a journal at 2am.

I'm not sure how much therapy it's going to take for me to like my birthday again, especially since I never have liked it.

I don't know how to tell my partner that I wish he wasn't so excited for my birthday. it's such a hard day for me. I've never had anyone excited about my birthday and it's hard for me to see that. he said I am "special and deserve to be treated as such." I've never had anyone say that to me. I don't know how to tell him that I'm struggling with this day. this stupid day we celebrate being alive another year. I wish it wasn't such a big deal. I know I have a lot to celebrate but I don't like celebrating it. other holidays? yes I love celebrating. but not my birthday. I don't know how to look my partner in the eye and say I don't want to celebrate my birthday. I think that might break his heart. all I want is to rot in bed, with him and not think about impending doom for a moment.

[opalimagines]

Request: You know what I’m just going to call myself the Sylvester anon at this point 😂 if that’s okay. But I REALLY liked your last work you wrote about his so I’m back with another. Number 87 with him, you rejected him because of how he treats some people (cough cough, Pat) and you can’t start a relationship with someone who treats people like that. It makes Sylvester do some self reflection and try to be a better person.

Character: Sylvester Pemberton (Starman)

Requested by anonymous

Reader: Neutral

87. Doing things to better yourself because they make you want to change for the better.

Having one of your old teammates back again and in the same town as you was a little refreshing after the previous decade. Pat had contacted you about a year ago and prompted you to move to Blue Valley, but he was different. He was never an official JSA member like Sylvester was and he had been a part of much fewer missions. So, meeting up with Sylvester and sitting on your couch as you reminisced about your time in the JSA was quite fun.

You just never expected the words that came out of his mouth after one too many drinks loosened his lips.

"You know, I always liked you. A lot." Sylvester smiled, thinking back fondly. "Ever since you kicked my ass during our first training session together."

That day was clear in your mind the moment he mentioned it. Sylvester was the newbie of the team, well into his twenties yet still going by the Star-Spangled Kid, since Ted Knight held the Starman mantle at the time. Even though he was new, you knew he had a decade of experience, which meant you didn't take it easy on him.

Sylvester continued, his voice strangely soft. "I always had a feeling that you felt the same way."

Were you really that obvious?

Yes, you had developed feelings for Sylvester once he was on the JSA for a while, but they were complicated. Every time you thought about pursuing something with him, you would witness the way he treated Pat, his friend and sidekick. It always left a bad taste in your mouth, and eventually you decided that it was never going to happen.

"I did," you said, the alcohol having a similar effect on you. "I do."

In spite of his words before, Sylvester was still caught by surprise, but he quickly recovered. "Then maybe we could give this a try and see what happens."

You shook your head without hesitation. "No."

There was a flash of confusion and disappointment on his face as he shifted in his seat. "What? I don't get it. You said-"

"I know what I said, I just..." You fiddled with the near empty bottle in your hand. "You were always so charming and brave, and you made me laugh so much. You still do. But as sweet as you are to me, and as much as I admire the hero you've always been...I can't get past the way you treat Pat."

Sylvester's usual quick wit had been stunned into silence. All the nice things weren't exactly a surprise, but he hadn't expected you to bring up Pat.

"You were 15 when you met Pat, and I get that teenagers aren't so nice, but you've been an adult for a long time. You still treat him like he's below you even though all he's ever done is help you. And I just can't entertain being with someone who thinks it's okay to treat people that way."

The two of you looked at each other for several moments before Sylvester spoke, hiding the hurt in his voice and on his face. "I understand." It wasn't like his treatment of his friend was a new thing to him. He'd realized before just how much he was like his parents, yet hearing it straight from you was so much worse. "I should probably go," he said as he stood up from your couch.

You stood as well, taking his bottle so you could throw it away. "You shouldn't drive-"

"I'll walk. It's not that far." Besides, Sylvester could use some time to clear his head, because you'd given him some things to consider.

You followed him to the door, and once he was on the porch, you said, "Goodnight, Syl. Be safe."

"Goodnight," he replied, shoving his hands into his jacket pocket. You watched a moment as he walked down your steps and the pathway leading to the sidewalk, and you closed your door.

That night, Sylvester resolved to do better, to fix himself and his attitude. He had a second chance at life, and he wasn't going to just throw away what the two of you could have together. He couldn't ignore the fact that he finally had confirmation that his feelings for you were requited.

He tried, even though Pat and his family were still on vacation. He fixed the damage that remained from Jennie and Courtney's fight, as well as other things around the house. He made sure the Whitmore-Dugans would be greeted with a completely clean and organized house when they returned from their trip.

Of course, that wasn't the end of it, and Sylvester stumbled a few times once The Gambler was murdered. He let his anger at the ISA take over, and Pat found himself on the receiving end just like old times. But Pat's influence, and even Barbara and Courtney's, helped him begin to turn things around. He slowly became a better mentor and a better friend.

Finally, he asked again and instead of another rejection, you pulled him in for a long awaited kiss, because you saw the way he tried so hard to improve himself not only for you, but for everyone in his life.

And to Sylvester, all of that hard work was worth it.

[stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland]

I am quite Naive so I'm not sure how much money Lauren can make out of one concert. I computed the $25 per ticket x 575 (venue capacity) and the total is $14,375. I am not sure if they can fill it up with more people to pack the place. Then for sure there are sponsors. I don't know how many and the average income per sponsor. Then there is probably merch sales? Are the income from food and drinks, theirs? Now with the cost of the dancers, the venue, plane tickets, hotels to stay, clothes, make-up, hair, the set if any, etc etc. I am assuming the lights and sounds are covered by the venue. How much do you think L can actually make if the concert is sold out? I hope she makes a decent amount.

Music anon: When it comes to tour commission lots of things factor into that. I don't know exactly how the money is being split up for this tour and money earned differs by tour dates so I can't give exact numbers. Sometimes venue capacity doesn't necessarily mean how many tickets they'll sell it could just mean how many people physically could fit in the building and that number isn't taking VIP tickets into consideration which a portion of the ticket maximum that can be sold is set aside for VIP which is more expensive and considering the things with monetary value included were just the ticket and posters (which are pretty cheap to make) they got decent money out of that. Sponsors do help quite a bit for tours however, I'm not sure who's sponsoring this tour or if there is a sponsor but some tours especially for smaller artists their labels/management companies tend to act as their "sponsor" and occasionally outside companies like I used to see this merchandise website sponsor quite a few tours back some years ago. Now mentioning merch sales, merch is actually a huge commission for artists many smaller artists on tours really rely on merch sales to help them with actually earning money for tour. Lauren, I'm assuming won't have to rely on it as much but it definitely helps a lot. Food and drink sales does not go to her it's being sold by the venue and that's mostly venues money. 

Now I'm gonna speak from my experience about seeing a date of this tour to put this into perspective. I went to a show date and did VIP (Lauren is really nice and great, very lucky to have gotten to meet her, also got to tell her about my good friend Karlaswine). My first thing I noticed was the venue was pretty small or at least smaller than I expected. Now the city has smaller venues I've been to but this one wasn't very big about over 500 people capacity which as I mentioned prior doesn't necessarily mean that's how many people bought tickets or how many tickets were sold, definitely less than capacity number. Another thing I noticed was the lack of people on stage especially no band. The show was entirely audio tracks minus her vocals of course which to personal taste I was a bit taken back by that as Lauren's had bands with her for many past shows, also only 2 dancers on stage. Then there was no opening act which I've never seen a show of this nature where I only went for one set so that surprised me. The reason I bring these things up is because these highly indicate to me that they didn't have a very big budget for this tour and were trying to make good commission from what they had considering the lack of budget. The team for this tour is very small meaning less people to pay, less money to spend on others tour costs like travel, and more money in commissions from shows to split amongst the touring team after the venue takes their cut of the money. Another thing is indicates to me (which this is only an assumption I could probably be wrong but this is my opinion) is that this tour was probably thrown together pretty last minute. The lack of tour dates, show production, a band, dancers, a tour team, along with a clearly not so big tour budget shows me this tour wasn't as well planned as it could of been. That being said while it was lacking budget to make the shows bigger productions and didn't include more people, they probably are earning decent commission. The have multiple sold out shows with VIP packages and a small touring team so they're really able to split up the money they're earning better and I personally believe Lauren's definitely making decent money this tour considering all these factors I mentioned which is great but I hope for the future, more budget and planning will be put into Lauren's shows I believe this tour could of been better than it was though I'll still be happy with what I was given regardless I had a great time. 

Sorry for the very long answer, hope this helps. 

__

So happy to have you back my dear friend ❤. Thank you so much for your answer. I'm glad to know that despite everything Lauren still can make a decent amount of money from her first tour as soloist that's not part of someone else's artist.

[hannie-dul-set]

saturday came rolling by quicker than you'd expected.

standing near the entrance of the rather expensive restaurant (you swore that even the plants by the door are worth more than everything you were wearing combined) you opened your phone, double checking to make sure you were at the right place that jaehyun's mother messaged you.

admittedly, it was a bit weird that you were hanging our with your new friend's mother whithout the knowledge of that said friend, but even if you wanted to back out, you couldn't because it would be rude to do so.

you returned your phone back into your white sling bag after confirming that this was indeed the place and made your way into the entrance, the restaurant's guard opening the door for you.

the moment you stepped in, you started to feel a bit self conscious. you were only wearing a simple navy blue wrap dress underneath a cream cardigan and a pair of sandals to match— deeming you absolutely out of place inside the fancy interior of the establishment.

to the eyes of the occupants of the restaurant, you probably looked like a lost puppy considering your attire and the fact that you had no idea where the hell mrs. jung was.

"miss, can i help you?"

your search was interrupted by one of the waiters, you assumed.

"oh, um, i'm looking for mrs. jung..?"

were you supposed to say that? at that point you didn't even care— you just wanted this whole lunch thing over and done with.

"ah, then you must be y/n l/n, correct?" you were slightly confused, but you nodded anyway.

"follow me, miss."

and so you did, carefully treading along the restaurant floor. you were afraid if you even breathe in the wrong direction, you'd end up breaking one of the many expensive decorations littered all around the place.

the waiter lead you to a secluded part of the restaurant. sunlight was beaming into the large arch windows that were adorning the walls and there were only three tables set up, all of which were unoccupied save for the one at the very end.

as you moved further inside, the two people that were sitting at the last table had noticed you and the waiter walking in. their heads turned towards your direction and you stopped in your tracks.

one of them was mrs. jung, obviously, but the other one you weren't quite expecting.

"miss y/n?"

"jaehyun?"

amidst your shock, the waiter had already left, leaving the three of you alone. your eyes were frozen stuck on jaehyun dozens of question marks floating around his head.

you were confused, but then you remembered that this was her son, of course he'd be here. but couldn't she at least have told you?

"y/n, dear, it's good that you've finally joined us! i was worried that you wouldn't come."

jaehyun was the first to snap back into reality. he diverted his attention from you to his mother.

"mother," you couldn't pinpoint the exact emotion he was carrying in his voice. "care to explain why miss y/n is here?"

"i invited her, of course," mrs. jung seemed to be completely unbothered by not so pleasant demeanor that her son was baring.

"sorry, i can just leave if you'd like," the atmosphere was unbearably uncomfortable and you'd much rather just leave if you could. you gave them a small bow before turning your heels, hand clutching your bag as you were about to leave.

"no, it's alright—" the screeching of a chair was heard and you felt a hand grab onto your arm, preventing you from moving forward. you turned around and you were met with a rather frantic looking jaehyun. "you can stay."

eyes wide from the sudden close proximity, your gaze moved back and forth from jaehyun's very very close face to his hand that was holding onto you— you could feel the heat slowly rising to your cheeks.

jaehyun must've noticed the situation that you two were in and he let go of you hurriedly, a coughing out a small sorry in the process. from the corner of your eye you could see his mother looking at the both of you with an amusement in her face. mostly because of his son's absolutely uncharacteristic behavior but you weren't aware of that.

"i apologize if my words sounded rude," jaehyun started, finally managing to get himself back together. "it wasn't my intention to send you away— i was just surprised to see you again."

"no it's okay," you gave him a smile of assurance and he visibly relaxed.

you nearly forgot that his mother was actually here (not to mention she was the one who invited you) until you heard her speak up.

"maybe i'm the one who should be leaving?" she teased, jaehyun giving her a disapproving look.

"you're staying. i believe you still have some explaining to do, mother."

much to your surprise, lunch went a lot better that you'd expected, especially taking into account the prior events that took place. mrs. jung eventually told jaehyun everything— the fact that she contacted you last time as well as her reasonings. jaehyun wasn't really upset that his mother was trying to set you two up, he was absolutely flustered to the highest point— cheeks flaring and avoiding eye contact from you as much as possible, you couldn't help but laugh at him, furthering his embarrassment.

"i apologize for my mother's behavior," he tells you (although, his eyes were looking everywhere else except for you).

the evident unease that was present earlier was replaced with comfortable air to which you were surprised, but nevertheless you were thankful. the conversation went on until the topic eventually landed on you.

"y/n," jaehyun's mom started, taking a sip from her peach-colored drink before continuing. "i realized i never got to ask your age."

"ah, i'm turning twenty-one this year," you replied, earning a hum from the older woman.

jaehyun places down his fork, diverting his attention towards you instead. "you must be in school then. do you mind me asking what your major is?"

"oh, no i'm not, actually,"

you continued to eat your food (you asked jaehyun what it was called but it your ears failed to understand the rich language) while the two of your companions promptly stopped, expecting you to continue. the sudden attention directed on you was a bit discomforting, so you placed your utensils down and wiped your lips with the napkin available.

"i can't really afford college so i'm still trying to save."

"what about your parents?" jaehyun asked, concern lacing his voice. "shouldn't they be the one's supporting you?"

"they sort of abandoned me after i graduated high school," you reply, staring at the untouched drink in front of you. "so i had to do things on my own from there."

you didn't really have a problem talking about your situation— you'd always been one to believe that all things happen for a reason, so you don't hold anything against your parents. you were never one to dwell on things; you'd rather choose to just keep on moving forward no matter how many setbacks you encounter. but of course, even though you had moved, emotions from the past sometimes resurface.

"i'm so sorry to hear that, sweetie," mrs. jung tried to sympathize with you. "i hope you're not too uncomfortable talking about this."

"no, it's okay, i've moved on," you pressed your lips together into a smile. "and although i'm not exactly in the best place financially, i'm pretty happy with my life right now. the experiences i've gathered and all of the wonderful people i've met— i'm very thankful for all of that."

after your mini speech, you looked over to jaehyun, who was looking at you with an expression that you weren't able to pinpoint.

"you really are an amazing person, miss y/n."

the words that left jaehyun's lips left you stunned, unable to think of a response. he might've said this to you through chat but this time he was looking at you— looking at you so so intently that you lost your entire train of thought.

"oh— um, thanks," you managed to sputter out before going back to your food.

"you know, dear, i'd be more than willing to help you with your financial situation right now," jaehyun's mother says and you politely decline.

"no, no, it's okay! i've saved up quite a bit already, and on top of my many part time jobs, my art has been doing pretty well recently," you explain. "i don't think it would be right for me to take money from you."

mrs. jung thinks momentarily before speaking up. "art? are you an artist, y/n?"

"i remember her mentioning it to me at one point," jaehyun joins in the conversation.

"well... i'm not exactly well known but i do a bit of freelance work here and there," you meekly mumbled. "i also do commissions."

until now, you couldn't tell what exactly was going on in jaehyun's head, but mrs. jung seems to be elated from your words.

"that sounds wonderful, dear!" jaehyun's mother beamed. "if you aren't too busy, i'd like to commission you, as well."

"really?"

you perked up from hearing her suggestion. you still had a few paintings lined up to be finished, but you'd be a fool to pass up on this opportunity.

"i still have some things to work on," you began. "but if you could wait until those are finished, then i see no problem!"

"there's no rush, dear! work on it as you see fit— we can discuss the details privately in a later time."

"alright, thank you so much, mrs. jung! i'll be sure not to disappoint you."

the day went on and the lunch you spent with the two jung's was over. after bidding then goodbye and thanking them for the nice meal, jaehyun had insistently offered to drive you home, but you politely declined, saying that you can just take the bus instead.

sitting on one of the benches at the bus stop, you pulled out your ear buds, deciding to listen to music as you waited. today wasn't as bad as you expected. jungwoo and haechan were wrong about mrs. jung— she may be a bit excessive and a bit too evasive regarding her son's affairs, she seemed like a genuine and sweet lady, none the less.

amidst your thoughts, you felt someone sitting beside you so you instinctively scooted away. you heard a cough from the said person, so you looked over to them. surprised, you pulled your ear buds away.

"jaehyun?"

"miss y/n," he looked at you. "i would like to formally apologize for my mother's behavior— she tends to cross boundaries without meaning to, i hope you don't take anything against her."

to be honest, you never expected jaehyun to run after you. it appears that the tables have turned seeing that he looks extremely out of place in his expensive looking coat inside the vicinity of the run-down bus stop. jaehyun still looked a bit embarrassed talking about it seeing that his face was painted a light dust of pink, causing a mirthful laugh to bubble in your throat.

"it's okay," you smiled at him in assurance. "i was definitely caught off guard, but i can see that your mother doesn't have any ill intentions."

jaehyun let out a sigh, visibly easing up upon your response.

"thank you for understanding," he gave a you smile and you were taken aback— jung jaehyun smiled at you for the first time that day and holy shit he has dimples.

before you can conjure up a response, the bus came into view and you stood up in haste, moving closer into the street. as the vehicle neared, you looked behind to see that jaehyun was now on his feet but he was yet to leave. the both of you made eye contact and you grinned at him.

"i'll be going now, jaehyun. thank you for today!"

his expression mirrored yours, hands snugly tucked into the pockets of his coat.

"likewise, miss y/n."

you curtly nodded before finally entering the bus. as you sat down, you looked outside the window only to see jaehyun still in the same position as before but he had his phone in his hand, fingers tapping away at the screen. he noticed you looking at him, giving you a small wave before walking away.

your phone buzzed from inside your back and you quickly took it out. a laugh escaped your lips and a wide smile blossomed into your face.

gold painted canvas

the classic rich boy and poor girl love story but with less prejudice and more happiness

13 // safe ride home

a/n: written part!! :D pls enjoy hehet <3

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[d-noona]

BARTERED BRIDE - Chapter 4

Ch 04 - Lunch Meeting

Kim Namjoon is a ruthless financier used to buying and selling stocks, shares and priceless artifacts. But now Namjoon has his eye on a very different acquisition - Park Han Byeol. Left destitute by her father's recent death, Han Byeol walks into Namjoon's bank looking to extend her overdraft. As Han Byeol needs money and Namjoon needs a wife, he proposes the perfect deal: he'll rescue her financially if she agrees to marry him. But in this marriage of convenience can Han Byeol ever be anything more than just a bartered bride?

Masterlist

"I nearly kept you waiting," said Namjoon. "I came back from the bank at eleven to go run in the park. As I was coming home I saw an old man on a bench who was obviously in need of medical attention. That held me up."

"Do you run everyday?" Han Byeol asks.

"I try to. Are you a runner?"

Han Byeol shook her head. "I play tennis and ski. I don't do work-outs."

He slanted an appraising glance at her figure. Today, in place of a black suit, she was wearing a designer outfit bought on a holiday in Italy. It consisted f a fine jersey-knit top in lilac, a waistcoat in violet, and swirling chevron-striped skirt combining those colors with pink and pale pistachio-green. The audacious color combination was perfect with Han Byeol's dark hair and brown eyes. "You look in great shape," he remarked. "But people in desk jobs like mine need some kind of fitness regime to stave off the bad effects of a sedentary lifestyle. Come and sit down. What would you like to drink before lunch?"

She remembered his remark about the wine she had been drinking when he forced his way in the previous evening. Was he one of those people who drank only mineral water and made everyone who didn't feel on a lower plane? Han Byeol had no intention of allowing him to intimidate her. "A Campari and soda, please," she said firmly.

Namjoon said to the butler, who had been following them at a discreet distance, "A Campari for Miss Park and my usual, please, Curtis." With a silent inclination of the head, the butler withdrew.

"Let's sit over here, shall we?" Namjoon steered her towards a group of comfortable chairs near one of the windows. "Have you finished your packing?"

"Almost"

Knowing that she wouldn't be able to sleep, she had worked on it till long past midnight. At half past nine this morning a dealer whom she had ought a lot of furnishings had come round to buy them back. Luckily Han Byeol had paid for them out of her bank account. Although the money in it had come from her father, technically they were her property, not his. As soon as his business had been forced into receivership, everything her father had owned, including the family home belonged to his business creditors. But the cash the dealer had handed her could go in her pocket. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing if, when Namjoon spelt out the terms of his trade off marriage, she found that she couldn't accept them. Looking up at the elegant cornice around the ceiling and the two crystal chandeliers, their chains swathed with coral tassels at the tops of the heavy cream curtains.

"Are you interested in architecture?" He sounded faintly surprised.

"Sometimes."

The butler came back with their drinks, hers a slight more vivid red than the coral linen slipcovers on some of the sofas, Namjoon's colorless except for a twist of lemon floating among the ice cubes. It could be in or vodka, or it could straight mineral water. Namjoon said, "This was my grandparents' house. My paternal grandmother still lives here when she's not staying with her daughters". I moved here when my father died. We had been living in Ilsan. I have an apartment near Gangnam but I thought you would feel more comfortable being entertained in the main house," he added with a gleam of amusement. After a slight pause, he added "I shall move out when I marry. The province is better for children, if their parents can choose where to live. Most people can't of course."

"Where are you thinking of moving to?" Han Byeol asked.

"I haven't decided." His expression was enigmatic. "Where would you choose to live, given a free choice?"

Han Byeol considered the question. Once the answer would have been "Wherever Yoongi wants to live." She said, "Ideally I'd like more sun than we get in this city. I wouldn't mind living by the sea, getting some fresh air...or a lake would do as long as it has mountains round it. I'd like to look out on mountains...big ones with snow on top."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Sounds as if New Zealand would suit you."

She shook her head. "I'm sure it's a beautiful country but it's too far away from Korea. Have you been there?"

Namjoon nodded. "The scenery's magnificent...when it's not raining. Unreliable weather. I went with old friends, you might know them since they run in the same circles you do. Where have your travels taken you?"

"Mostly to holiday places...the Caribbean in winter...resorts round the Med in summer. My mother's a passionate gardener. She doesn't like travelling alone, even in a group. I've been on some garden tours with her...the south of France, Ireland, California. Where do you for holidays?" Han Byeol takes a sip of her Campari.

"I used to go with my father who also liked someone with him. We went to Japan together and other Pacific Rim countries. I travel a lot for the bank. For pleasure I usually go to France, Greece or Spain. Where would you like to go for our honeymoon?"

The question, tacked on to innocuous small talk, took her by surprise. "I haven't agreed to marry you," she said coldly.

"If you found the idea unthinkable, you wouldn't be here," he said dryly. "Let's be straight with each other Han Byeol. I need you...you need me. It's a sensible, practical arrangement."

She knew that at least the first part of what he said was true, but she wasn't about to admit it. Was it pride that made her reluctant to fall in with his plan too readily? She said, "I'm not clear why you've selected me."

"You're very attractive...as I am sure you're aware." he smiles at her gently.

"Is that all you want from a woman? An acceptable face and figure? Don't you care what I'm like inside?" Han Byeol scoffed.

'I can make some intelligent guesses. People can't hide their characters," he told her casually. "Even in repose a face gives a lot of clues to its owner's temperament. Apart from yesterday's evidence that you have a short fuse, I haven't detected any characteristics I wouldn't like to live with."

His arrogance took her breath away. In that moment of shock, she was struck by the thought it would be both a challenge and public service to bring this man down from his lofty pinnacle and convert him into an acceptably unassuming person. But perhaps it was already too late . One of gran's favorite sayings was, "What's bred in the bone must come out in flesh." Namjoon with his long-boned thoroughbred physique and his handsome features, looked a descendant of generations of men who had felt themselves to be superior beings and never experienced the doubts felt by ordinary people.

In a different, more rough-hewn way, her father had been the same. Probably somewhere far back in Namjoon's ancestry, there had been a man like her father: a rough-diamond unscrupulous go-getter who had founded the Park Fortune. Perhaps if Mr. Park had married someone better equipped to handle him than her quiet and easily cowed mother, her father might have been saved from becoming an overbearing braggart. Whether, at thirty four, Namjoon's essential nature could be modified was problematical. But it could be interesting to try.

She said, "I don't find you as transparent as you seem to find me. It takes me longer to make up my mind about people;"

"You haven't had as much experience of summing up people as I have."

The butler reappeared. "Luncheon is ready when you are, sir."

They ate in a smaller room with a view of a large garden, an oasis of well kept greenery in the heart of the city. The surface of the round Regency breakfast table had a gleaming patina resulting from years of regular polishing' It reflected the colors and shapes of the red-streaked white tulips arranged in a what Han Byeol recognized as an antique tulip pot, its many spouts designed to support the stems of flowers which had once been costly status symbols. The meal began with potted shrimps served with crisp Melba toast, tiny green gherkins and white wine, which they continued to drink with the main course, chicken with minty yogurt dressing.

While they ate Namjoon talked about plays and art shows he had been to recently. It was the kind of conversation made by strangers at formal lunch parties and although his comments were interesting Han Byeol thought his choice of subject was irrelevant to this particular situation. When the butler had withdrawn, leaving them to help themselves to a fruit salad with fromage frais, or to selection of more substantial cheeses, she said, "Why do you want a wife when you could go on having girlfriends and a change them when you get bored?"

Offering her elegant Waterford compote, its apparent fragility emphasizing the powerful but equally elegant form of the hands in which it was cradled, he looked at her with unexpected sternness. "I have a responsibility to my line. I need sons to carry on the traditions established by my predecessors."

She found this solemnly irritating. "Are you expecting me to provide proof of my fertility?" Before she could add that, if he was, he could forget it, Namjoon said, "No, I'm prepared to chance that."

"Big deal!" Han Byeol said sarcastically.

She had a feeling that Namjoon wouldn't hesitate to divorce her if she failed to live up to his expectations in some way. But although he struck her as a monster of cold-hearted self-centeredness, she couldn't deny that he was extraordinarily attractive. Every movement he had made since they sat down had heightened her awareness of the lean and muscular physique inside the well-cut suit and the long legs under the table. His hair was dry now but still had a sheen of health. There was nothing about him suggestive of stress or tension. He seemed entirely relaxed. Yet why did he need to arrange a businesslike marriage instead of falling in love the way people usually did?

Wondering, suddenly, if he might be in the same situation as herself, heartbroken, although it didn't seem likely, she said, "When did you dream up this scheme?"

"It's an idea I've had for some time...probably since my contemporaries started divorcing. I have about a dozen god-children, most whom now have step parents, some official, some not. I don't want that for my children."

"Did you parents stay married?" she asked.

It seemed to her that his face underwent a change. His lips didn't tighten. His eyebrows didn't draw together. But there was a subtle hardening and chilling, reminding her of the impression she had received that morning when they sat on opposite sides of his imposing desk/ Now they were at a table designed for a more intimate and relaxed conversation. But she sensed a change in the atmosphere and knew she had trespassed in an area of his where she was an unwelcome intruder.

"They separated. They were never divorced," he answered.

Han Byeol wanted to ask hold he had been when the separation happened, but something made her hold her tongue. Later, going back to the flat in the taxi he had laid on for her, she regretted her curiousity.

When-in-two people were going to marry, there shouldn't be any "No go" areas between them...or at least none of that nature. His past girlfriends were not her business, but his family life certainly was. She shouldn't have allowed herself to be put off. From now on she wouldn't be, she told herself firmly.

[luna-memoria]

Reposting because my hand slipped and deleted the whole friggin' post ahhhhh

Anyways have this KaiAo police AU I've had lying around for months.

..

Honestly, Aoko didn't expect Kaitou KID to turn up despite having agreed to.

She'd been sitting in the corner Starbucks of the street near her house for the past ten minutes, which was precisely twenty minutes before her agreed meeting time with KID. She figured it'll be a good idea to check out the place for any suspicious activity, despite being quite sure the person in question wouldn't pull anything funny for the sake of his silly honor or something, but that idea seemed pretty extra when a man holding a cup of hot chocolate call strolling up next to her. The name on his cup said 'Katsuki', a name that put a smirk on her face.

"There's still quite some time before one o'clock, you know," she said, scanning the man thoroughly.

"Now now. It wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to let a lovely lady wait, would it?" commented the man - Kaitou KID - with a slightly apologetic tone. "I didn't make you wait long, did I?"

She shook her head, amused. "I just arrived earlier than you. Please take a seat."

"So. Anything you're interested in knowing?" he asked first thing upon plopping down into his seat. A grin. "I'm pretty certain this isn't just a normal date to ask about my life in the past four years, Aoko-chan~~"

Aoko gave him her best glare, but chose to say nothing. She was an adult, for crying out loud. Not that same high school student who gets pissed at every little thing KID does to get a reaction out of her. Yes, she can handle this maturely like an adult.

"You can say there's something I want to ask you," she said, fingers fumbling as they wrapped around her paper cup and brought it up to her face. Yes, the fresh scent of coffee was exactly what needed to keep her sane and cool. She eyed his attire. It was one of his more casual 'disguises', if she could even call it one. He wore a fine dark green jacket over a black turtleneck and jeans, accompanied by glasses and a cap. She wanted to make some kind of statement, something to make fun of his disguise, but it somehow did a good job of securing his identity, so it didn't seem right to say such a thing. Maybe it had something to do with experience of using the same freaking disguise for years without fail.

Too immersed in thought, she didn't realize her intense gaze placed on the thief before her. He had to wave to get her out of her brief daze.

"Is that cup of yours gonna be hauled at me if I say something that upsets you?" he asked with a pointed finger.

She smirked. "Depends. Are you gonna say something that will upset me?"

"Well, I hardly know what will upset you, Nakamori-san." He shrugged.

"Lies," she offered. "I'd hate those, when I had to go through all this trouble to contact you for this date."

His eyes darted up at her, she noticed, no thanks to the thick shades casted on his face by the cap. Reading people was what Aoko considered to be her talent, an ability she gained in hopes of becoming more understanding of her best friend who always tried to fool her with some stupid 'poker face'-

No. This was not a good time to think of him of all people. She was on an important mission right now, which, even if the police force didn't know, might have something to do with the criminal group they've been investigating for months but failed to get any leads on. This… this was a good chance for her to shine, and possibly clear up the business she had with KID, from her high school years. Even if she knew she had next to zero chance of ever capturing him, she wanted to know his secret- the mystery behind his persona. He was not just some thief who seemed attention or money, and her experiences with criminals so far told her that some had stories behind their actions.

She wanted to know the story that made KID decide to keep on his facade for so many years.

"You can rest assured then. I wouldn't come all the way here to lie to you."

"Then I expect you will answer whatever questions I have with honesty."

"You sound like a mom talking to her child, if I'm being honest."

She glared.

"Okay, okay. Ask away. I'll give you whatever info I can give."

Now, that asked for a direct question. "What is your motive for returning?"

He frowned. "Pardon?"

"There's a reason for your return, I'm sure. After disappearing for four whole years. I want to know that reason."

"And here I thought you were going to ask me something related to the… well, object of your investigations."

"That'll be for later."

"If you say so," he said, leaning back and stretching his legs lazily as he took a sip of his drink. "I was just there to work, which I can't see why you would interest yourself in."

"I want to know."

"…I'm sure you've noticed that I've stopped with those dazzling heists of mine?"

"Yes. I probably wouldn't have learnt of your return if I didn't run into you at the crime scene the other day."

"I was on duty, collecting data for someone."

"As in?"

"My employer."

She huffed, crossing her arms. "That does not answer my question."

"I told you I'd answer what I could. The name of my employer is one of the things I couldn't disclose to anyone. Don't most jobs have this common rule saying 'keep each client's info secret' or something?"

"Fine then. What were you doing then? I suppose you are allowed to tell me the events of your job?"

"You know what politicians love the most, Nakamori-san?"

"What?" she narrowed her eyes, surprised by the sudden turn of conversation. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It's the best description I can give you regarding my activities near your job site."

"Wait. You're not telling me you now work to collect blackmail for politicians, are you?!" Aoko exclaimed in a sharp whisper, self-conscious of the few stares they were starting to earn from the surrounding customers. She wondered if she should have picked a more private space after all, but who knew when the suspicious character from back then at the crime scene was gonna make his return? She didn't know if the person - whoever he was - was a threat at all, but she had a bad feeling that something bad was happening in due time, and she didn't want to risk anything.

"You think so highly of me, Nakamori-san," he said, tone tainted with sarcasm. "I hardly think politicians would trust a thief like me to do their dirty work - if they could even afford my services in the first place." Noting how Aoko didn't respond, he continued. "I was in the bar that night. I don't know if you police inspectors know this, but there was a meeting between two gun smugglers - Kurosawa and Kaizaki - last night somewhere in Shibuya."

Aoko nodded. "I think I've heard something of the sort."

"I happen to know this Kurosawa always meets up with his lover in this bar, and he always tells her everything - and I mean it when I say everything." KID produced a feather in his hands all of a sudden, fiddling with it in a way Aoko thought she recognized. Maybe all magicians have that habit, she thought. "My quest was to record everything and send it to my employer, which was a fairly simple task, as the guy completely lost his cautiousness with that woman."

He paused briefly, fingers still playing with the feather. "It's funny how easy it was get that info with just a woman. To think that man was considered one of the hardest criminals to track down…" Aoko raised an eyebrow at his out-of-the-place sentence, but cleared her throat preparing for her next question.

"I see. From what I understand, you're being paid to gather info about someone who happens to be one of the most difficult criminals around."

"You can say that."

"What are you, doing that kind of thing?"

"I'm fairly sure there was a character like that in that favorite detective series of yours, wasn't there?" KID remarked with a smile, his grip on the feather tightened. He turned his gaze back to Aoko, which made her shy away as a result.

"And how would you know what detective series I like?"

"Oh? I was fairly certain, you seem like the type to read Holmes."

"Never mind that. It's none of your concern."

"You are correct, but I thought you may be the one to be concerned, seeing I'm talking about the very man the great detective called the worst man in London."

"I believe you are talking about The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton," she replied. "It's one of my favorite stories in the series."

"So I guess that adds to the list of things I know about you, hm?"

"The tiny list of things you know about me," she snarled.

"Fine, fine, geesh. You're still as fiery as I remember, Nakamori-san, except that you're a police detective now. Should I call you Inspector Nakamori for the nostalgia-"

"Don't. Don't mention my father, he's not supposed to be involved in all this mess after everything you've put him through over the years."

"That's… fair." He didn't say anything besides that, and the sudden silence spooked Aoko a little, since KID was always joking and making cheesy remarks every chance he could when they interacted. Seeing him at a loss of words didn't feel as good as she'd thought it would be.

Deciding to steer the conversation back on it's original direction, Aoko spoke first, breaking the brief silence. "So. Milverton, huh? I never thought a day would come where I'd associate the great Kaitou KID with a character like him."

A Cheshire grin spread across the thief's face once again, and Aoko almost smacked herself for feeling the slightest bit of relief. That relief was gone instantly though as he purred, "Great Kaitou KI-"

KID paused his tracks, noting Aoko's expression. His face sunk (at the loss of a chance to mess with her, probably).

"Well, I don't think this Milverton character is deserving of all this hate you put in. In fact, I think he's pretty smart, using secrets of other people to make money…"

"Like you apparently do now? Is that why you compared yourself to him?"

"I'm not all bad, Nakamori-san, contrast to your belief. Sure I sell secrets, but not the kind your character would be interested in. I'd collect that if I were paparazzi…" He stopped, like the mere thought of that scared him (or excited him, she couldn't really tell.) "… But the information I come across usually results in the deforming of illegal groups, arrests of smugglers and so. You can call me a spy… or something along the lines of that."

"As if you'd be so noble," she scoffed, more out of habit than actual scorn. It has never affected him much before when she did it in high school, so why would he be bothered by it now?

Her assumptions were proved wrong however, as KID lowered his face, bitterness fading back into his voice.

"Perhaps I've always been, it's just that you refuse to see it for yourself, Nakamori-san."

That… was out of the blue. Aoko didn't know what she could say to respond - an acknowledgement? That probably wouldn't help much in a situation as awkward as the one before her, so she just spat what the usual, fiery her would say.

"I know exactly what I see."

"If you insist." He hopped off his comfy spot on the couch, grabbing his keys and coffee cup from the table. Aoko knew for sure her words caused discomfort in him, but there wasn't anything she could do to stop him.

There goes her chance to gather more information.

What was she going to do to track down a new lead?

"Wait! I'm not done with my questions yet-!"

He eyed her sideways, "there's always next time."

She was almost certain he was going to leave, but no, not yet.

Much to her surprise, KID stopped by her and pulled her close enough to whisper in her ear. "Oh, and Nakamori-san? Not all spies have noble intentions. Thought you had the right to know, seeing that there's one like that right in your department."

He pulled away, a fake smile visible on his face. "And that'll be all for today! I look forward to your next date together, Aoko-chan!" he exclaimed cheerily, giving her a small salute as he skipped out of the cafe.

It took her a whole minute to precess his words, and the conclusion she got wasn't one she liked.

[bangtanbabeloveyourself]

Oh What A Wedding

Pairing: Female reader x BTS

Chapters: 1|2|3

Word count: 3k

Summary: You’re a new novelist and your little sister is getting married. Because of work, you could only show up two weeks before the wedding. While preparing for the wedding, the groomsmen catch your attention, but not as much as you catch theirs. They make a bet as to who can win your heart first and you may have just found your next novel.

Notes: The song used for the dance scene is House of Cards by BTS. To help the imagination. (;

Everyone else had fallen asleep. Taehyung and Jimin passed out over towards the pool. Jungkook was sprawled out across the lawn, half full cup still in his hand. Jin and the others had gone back to their rooms hours ago. Everyone but you.  

You had stopped drinking about half way through the night. You did get drunk for a little while, but it had run its course and you could tell you were sobering up. Despite all of the night's festivities, you still weren't tired.

You decided to go to the linen closet, getting out blankets for the boys outside. Once you closed the closet door, there was a Yoongi staring back at you. It made you jump and he smiled.

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Just wanted to see how you were doing after all that alcohol.” He looked at the blankets in your arms. “Cold?” He asked.

You nudged him gently with your elbow as you started walking. “No, not me. The boys fell asleep outside. I wanted to make sure they had a blanket.”

“Wow, even when you drink you take care of others. Normally we just let the boys deal with whatever problems they caused. Toughen em up, ya know?”

She shook her head. “I can’t. It's just not who I am.”

You made it out to the yard, handing Yoongi one blanket as you took the largest one, carefully laying it on top of Taehyung and Jimin. You walked over to Jungkook, taking the cup out of his hand and dumping it in the grass.  You then grabbed the blanket from Yoongi and covered him up. You blushed softly when you heard Jungkook mumble your name before he turned over and continued to sleep.

When you walked over to Yoongi, he smirked at the blush on your face. He poked your cheek with one of his slender fingers. “What's all this for?” he asked.

You bit your lip as you looked back to Jungkook and then back to Yoongi. “I think Jungkook might have a crush on me.”

Yoongi's eyes widened before he chuckled. “I'm sure it's possible. But I can tell you from experience that he probably just wants to fuck you.”

You shrugged as you walked back into the house. It wasn't a bad thought. Jungkook was attractive enough. You smirked before plopping back down on the couch that you both had sat in earlier, Yoongi following you.

“He did say I looked hot as fuck today,” you said, recalling the memory.

“I wouldn't have said it that way, but he wasn't wrong. I bet everyone thought you looked great.”

You blushed softly before looking up at Yoongi. He was watching you intently until you locked eyes. He was the first to look away. He ran a hand through his hair before giving you a sheepish grin.

“Anyway, I should probably get back to bed. You should too. You're going to be tired tomorrow.”

You stood up and stretched a bit. “Yeah, I guess you're right.”

“Yeah, Hobi is good at wearing you out. Trust me.”

You looked at Yoongi with confusion. He smirked. “Oh, no one told you. You have dance practice tomorrow. Your sister wants us all to learn this routine. And Hobi is in charge. So he'll be teaching you later.”

You groaned. “Dancing? Really? My sister is trying to kill me, I swear.”

Yoongi chuckled. “Don’t like dancing, huh?”

You sighed and crossed your arms. “It's not that. I'm just not the best at it. I did one year of dance as a kid and the teacher begged my parents to leave me out the next year. All I wanted to do was sit and read.”

Yoongi smiled before giving you a soft pat on the head. “You'll be okay. Hobi will take great care of you. Now go get some sleep or you'll regret it tomorrow.”

You nodded before turning to head towards your room. You walked a couple of feet before stopping and turning towards him again. “Thank you Yoongi.”

He gave you a nod in response before you turned back and made your way to your room. You could have sworn you saw a blush on his cheeks. Maybe you had just imagined it. You shook your head at the thought before closing your door behind you. You were more tired than you realized because as soon as you hit the pillow, you were out.

****

You knew you had heard your name, but you only mumbled before turning in your bed, pulling your blanket tighter to yourself. It was like high school all over again. Your mother would give up soon, letting you wake up and take the punishment from school for being late.

But this wasn't your mother. Hobi didn't like to wait. And when you didn't show up on time to practice, he went on a man hunt. He had been knocking at your door for over five minutes but you showed no signs of getting up.

This man hunt just turned into a kidnapping mission. Getting into your room was too easy, considering you didn't lock your door when you had passed out. Once inside your room, he scanned for you, chuckling when he saw your current state. You were curled up into a giant ball, your blankets wrapped around your legs and drawn up into your hands as if hugging a giant pillow.

Hobi sighed before walking over to the side of the bed your face was on. He bent down in front of you before starting to yell.

“GOOD MORNING SUNSHINE!” He screamed at you, causing your eyes to pop open in surprise, your body reacting by slipping off the back side of the bed with a thud.

“Ouch! Hobi! What the fuck man!” You shouted as you stood, rubbing your butt in response to the fall.

“Don't Hobi me! You were supposed to be at practice over an hour ago. Let's go. I've only got two weeks to get you ready for this wedding. And unfortunately I've had the displeasure of seeing your old dance recital videos. We need every minute we can get,” he teased.

You glared at him before grabbing one of the pillows that had fallen to the floor and chucked it at him. “Oh shut up. I'll get ready! To be fair no one told me about this dance stuff until Yoongi, this morning.”

Hobi raised an eyebrow. “Yoongi huh?” He pursed his lips before shaking his head. “Well now you know. So go get out of your bathing suit and into the dress. It should be in your closet. Now let's go.” He had walked over to you and rushed you over to the closet.

“We'll be over in the work out room in your parents house.” He called out as he made his way out of the door so you could change.

You yawned as you shuffled over to your closet. You opened the door to see a beautiful azure dress hanging on the back of it. You stepped back as you held the bottom of the skirt out to get a better look. You really had to give your sister credit. She was really good at her job. She had designed the entire wedding party’s clothing from the moment Shane had proposed.

You let out another yawn before you started to shimmy out of your bathing suit from the previous night. You gathered some underwear from one of your dresser drawers and the pair of spankies that were left on top of your dresser. After getting your undergarments situated, you went for the dress.

You had to unzip the dress first before you could attempt to slip it on. When you finally did, you turned to look at yourself in the mirror. The dress was a beautiful azure color. It was fifties inspired with it’s sweetheart neckline, high waist, and flared skirt. You were able to connect the strap behind your neck but you realized you weren’t going to be able to zip it up. Your sister might be good at her job, but she’s not perfect. You made a mental note to remind her to create dresses without the need for someone ELSE to zip you up.

You sighed before holding the dress to your chest with one hand. Best to keep it in place to avoid slips on your way to find someone to zip you up. You left your room and made your way down the hallway, hoping to find someone quickly to zip your dress for you. To your dismay, not a single person was inside the guest house. You groaned before trekking off towards the main house.

You walked through the back patio door and into the kitchen. Still no one to be seen. You weren’t expecting to find your parents at this time of day. They had probably already left for work. But no one else could be found. You walked past the kitchen and headed down the hallway to the home gym. You could hear music playing the closer you got to the room.

As you approached the door, you peered around the door frame, looking into the room. You saw a very familiar pink headed boy dancing along with the beat of the song. It was faster paced, something a little too hiphop for your taste. You couldn’t help but stare as you watched the way his body naturally moved with the music. You prayed to all the gods in the world that this was not the dance your sister was forcing you to learn.

As Jimin had turned around in his dance, he noticed you peeping on his dancing and he stopped, giving you a big grin. “You can come in Y/N! I was just having fun while we waited for you.”

You blushed when you realized you had been caught. You sheepishly stepped into the room, looking over to find Hobi sitting in a chair near the stereo. Both their eyes were locked on you, which didn’t help the redness in your cheeks.

Jimin smiled as he walked up to you. “Wow, you look great. That’s your dress? It’s so pretty.”

You gave him an uneasy smile before fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. “Yeah, I’m not really used to wearing this kind of stuff. And my sister is making me dance in it.” You sighed before looking up to Jimin. “What are you doing here anyway? I know Hobi is teaching me, but I thought Namjoon was my partner for the dance.”

Jimin pouted before crossing his arms. “Are you saying you don’t want me here?” Your eyes grew wide but Jimin smiled before you could speak. “I’m only kidding. Hobi asked me to be your partner for now. Namjoon had something else to do.” He leaned in closer to you, lowering his voice to a whisper. “But between you and me, I think it’s because he can’t dance very good so he’s waiting until he gets better before he practices with you.”

You giggled before nuding Jimin. “That’s not very nice.”

Hobi rolled his eyes before moving in between the two of you and walking over towards the center of the floor. “Namjoon isn’t the best dancer, but his moves still put yours to shame Y/N. You need this practice more than he does.” Hobi said before eyeing you over. “You’ve already kept me waiting an hour. Are we going to start or not?”

Your face grew red with embarrassment at being called out before you lowered your head and walked over to the center of the floor as well.

“Now, this isn’t going to be easy. Your sister wants this to be very smooth. It’s all about the connection between you and your partner. One of the other reasons I asked Jimin to come help was because I thought you’d be the most comfortable around him. Especially for this kind of dance.” Hobi said as he began to pace the dance floor, turning on a song. The soft taps of a few piano keys began to play.  

“This dance is going to involve a lot of touching. It’s a slower paced song with a lot of emotion.” He walked out in front of you, turning his back to you as he began to move. His body started to move to the beat.

As you watched, you noticed Jimin move to your side, casually mimicking some of the moves that Hobi was doing. During the instrumental break of the song, Hobi had turned around, still moving but meeting your eyes this time.

“I will show you your steps. Jimin will fill in as Namjoon. I want you to watch us as we move.” Hobi said before turning to Jimin, giving him a nod. Jimin stepped up towards him, wrapping his arms around Hobi’s waist.

You stepped back as you watched the two move to the beat of the song. Jimin’s hands were wandering over Hobi’s arms and waist in such a manner that it caused you to blush. You kind of wished it were you, but seeing the way the two were dancing didn’t bother you one bit. In all honesty, it had stirred up that feeling between your thighs again.

They acted so naturally. Their movements were so fluid and graceful that you would have thought them to be more than just friends. There was no awkwardness between them despite the closeness of their body’s and the intimacy of the dance itself. You were totally awestruck when the final notes of the song drifted off from the stereo.

You could have watched them for hours. You really wished you could have. But the look on Hobi’s face made you realize that it was your turn. You had to make your body do what his just had. He looked you over before motioning for you to come and take his spot.

You bit your lip as you shuffled forward.“Hobi, I don’t think I can do what you two just did.” You turned to look at him. “My body just doesn’t move like that.”

Hobi gave you a reassuring smile. “That’s why we’re here. We’re here to get you to that point. Otherwise we would have just thrown you to Joonie and let him eat you alive.” Hobi looked over to Jimin, giving him a soft wink.

Jimin snorted with laughter when he realized what Hobi had meant; the bet. Jimin moved forward, wrapping his firm arms around your waist and pulling you against his chest, catching you off guard. “Don’t worry Y/N. Hobi is a great teacher. And I’m pretty patient. We’ll get you where you need to be.”

Your face turned bright red, causing Hobi to laugh. “It’ll be okay Y/N. Let’s get into first position and we’ll go from there.”

You took a deep breath before nodding. You slowly let out your breath as Jimin released you and you moved into the first pose you remember Hobi doing. “Okay, we can try. But I’m warning you two, you’re going to hate this.”

****

As soon as the song ended, you plopped down onto your butt, sweat dripping down the side of your face as you tried to catch your breath. Jimin was breathing heavy, but stayed on his feet, looking down at you. Hobi huffed when he saw you sit down but decided to let it go. He walked over to the table, grabbing three bottles of water.

“Are you okay?” Jimin asked as he crouched down to meet your eye level.

You nodded as you wiped the sweat from your forehead onto your hand before wiping it on your dress. “Yeah, I’m okay, just tired. I need a minute.”

Jimin smirked but nodded as he stood. He reached out to grab the water bottle that Hobi had brought over to them.

“Tired? It’s only been two hours!” Hobi said as he handed you a bottle as well.

You groaned and fell back onto the floor. “Two hours of nonstop dancing is more exercise than I’ve done since high school. Cut me some slack,” you complained.

Hobi sighed before deciding to sit down on the floor near you, Jimin following his lead. “I guess not everyone is used to this kind of stuff like we are.” Jimin said as he nudged Hobi.

Hobi rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I guess most aren’t. I kind of forget not everyone is like we are.”

You looked over towards the boys. “But aren’t you guys just models. Why do you have to go through this kind of work out?”

Hobi smiled. The first time you’d seen him smile since his dancing with Jimin. “Well, we have to stay in shape. Some like to go lift or run. But Jimin and I love dancing.”

Jimin nodded and gave you his full faced smile. “We really do. There’s something more meaningful to our exercise when we dance. We aren’t just picking up heavy things or running distances. We’re making something beautiful.”

You nodded before taking a swig of the water. “Okay, that makes sense. You guys are amazing, I'll give you that much.”

Jimin snorted before patting your head. “Oh honey, you should have known that from the start. Have you seen us? We're like sex on legs.”

“And great legs at that.” Hobi said as he walked around Jimin, looking him over before looking at you and winking.

You nearly spit out your water at his comment. Jimin looked at you worriedly while Hobi tried to stifle his laughter.

“Al-alright. That's enough of a break. We've still got two more hours of practice.”

You groaned before standing up and tossing your water bottle over to the corner. You moved your body into first position and turned to Jimin.

“Wait. Did he say two more hours?”