#The guy who by the way was like a 25-year-old white guy that genuinely laughed like no don't kill yourself your so sexy aha

[theoogtree]

My sister sold my mom's car for 2k and somehow I got $600 out of that so mayhaps I will get another tattoo

[natromanxoff]

25 - Just Chatting...

Hello one and all.

It's been a long time since I graced these pages and, believe it or not, nothing much has been happening in my life, apart from the odd soiree or two. Winter has finally left us and spring has sprung, and it's nice to see the sun again. Let's start by wishing my old mate a happy birthday and I hope you all had a little drinkie for him, I know I did. In fact I got legless, he would have been proud of me. Whenever we were in London there was always a party at Fred's on his birthday, be it a handful of friends, or one where he invited half of Britain, but which ever one it was there was always a good time to be had and a lot of chaos. One year he actually took over Pikes Hotel in Ibiza and chartered a private plane to fly his friends in. Roger and myself were already on the island recording some of his solo stuff so we didn't have far to travel to the bash. When I say we were working, it's kind of true as we spent a lot of time on his boat "Ga Ga" whizzing around having lunch and fun. The party was held outside around the swimming pool, now is that an invite for trouble or what? There were hundreds of balloons hanging from every available fixture, and of course there is always an idiot that thinks he's a clown. This particular clown, who will remain nameless, decided it would be funny to light one of the balloons, and needless to say the whole lot went up in flames. Phoebe and Crystal to the rescue. We had to get this "fire" off the wooden rafters before the whole hotel went up in smoke, so we were pulling bits of string while burning rubber was dripping down on us. I was so traumatised by the whole event I had to have another drink ....... a lame excuse I know, but hey, it's my story. Back to the pool. Edwin Shirley, of trucking fame and also an all round good guy after a few too many, decided to have a swim, so he removed his clothing and was flapping around the pool when some daft countess told him to get dressed and behave himself. Wrong move lady. Edwin was not impressed by his telling off and threw her in, and she was even less impressed with that and started ranting and raving, much to the amusement to the rest of the party hounds. She left with her tail between her legs and didn't look at all glamorous in her soaking wet dress, running makeup and failed hairdo. We continued till mid morning and went straight to the airport and caught a flight home. Thanks F for the great parties and good times, you will never be forgotten.

I still get asked a lot if I'm gonna write the "Real" story about Queen. Well the answer is no, and the reason is that the guys gave me a great job and a great life and I have far to much respect for them, their wives/girlfriends, children and families to tell the world what we got up to in private. I feel that is our business and ours alone. Most of us are all in relationships and telling tales could make life awkward for a few people, band and crew alike. I'm sure at some point in time someone from the organisation will write a book, have 5 minutes of fame and make a quick buck, but it sure as hell won't be me, and I'll still be able to sleep at night and when I see the guys I will still be free to say, "Wanna beer MATE."

I've had a few questions asked me that I'm gonna answer quickly.

First off is "Do you have any stories about Freddies cats? (ripping furniture etc.)" Here's a good reply, No. So moving right along, "Of all the famous people you've met, who impressed you the most?" Tricky one this. After years in this "Biz" they all become "Just normal people," and some become good pals, but on one occasion I was in Paul McCartneys studio and I was handed his violin bass and I was sitting there holding it when someone said, "Paul is left handed, hold it like he would." When I turned it around, still taped in the cutout was the Beatles set list from their days in Hamburg, now that impressed me.

Deaky and myself were the only two reggae lovers in the outfit, and Bob Marley turned up to see the show at Madison Square Gardens. Strange choice of show for Bob, but he loved Another one bites the dust, and he happened to be in New York on a stopover on his way to Germany for laser treatment. Show time and our intro tape was playing, and someone told JD that Bob was in the audience, so he cranked his bass up and played "Lively up yourself" over the tape. This was very possibly the last time Marley ever heard this played as he died shortly after. I didn't get to meet him, but I did get to meet Tyrone Downie, Bobs keyboard player in the Wailers, and Tyrone and myself got up to all sorts of mischief that night. RT on the other hand hates reggae music, but I did manage to drag him to the Circus Krone in Munich to see Peter Tosh. I loved it, he hated it. I look at this as payback because years before he insisted that I went to Hammersmith Odeon to see Laurie Anderson, of O Superman fame. This show he loved, but I put it alongside Cher as one of the worst concerts I have ever seen. Needless to say I have also met a couple of stars that I didn't see eye to eye with. Like the American rock star we encountered in a club one night, and he was such a pain I had to take him into the toilets to have a quiet word with him. He finally got the message so I released my hand from around his neck and let him drop back down to the ground. To finish this segment I wanna tell you something that Bev Bevan said. Bev was the drummer with ELO, and them and us were touring the US at the same time, and as it turned out, staying in the same hotel in one city. Roger and myself were leaving the hotel and waiting for the elevator. When the doors opened Bev was in there and him and RT said their hellos. Rog then said, "Bev, this is Crystal, he looks after me." Bev turned to me, shook my hand and said, "Pleased to meet you. If it wasn't for guys like you, guys like us wouldn't be where we are today." He didn't need to say that, and was genuine when he did. I wasn't impressed with meeting him, but he is certainly in my top ten of nicest people I have ever meet.

Over the last few months I've spent a lot of time in the Chatroom, and I highly recommend it to you all as it can be a bit of a laugh. For anyone who has never visited the room please remember a couple of things, if you come in and start swearing you will be kicked out. I know, it happens to me all the time. Also don't come in and start going on about knowing axemen and murderers and other such garbage, cause that also warrants a kicking. Some buffoon from Ireland, who went by the name of "Death" turned up with an attitude and was going on about how f***ing awesome Queen were at Slane Castle. He was not known by anyone in there so I asked him to watch his language. He said he was the Grim Reaper and could do and say what he liked, so I told him otherwise and he was most put out when I kicked him. What a fool. A while ago there was some prat who called himself F***queen, good name eh! Anyway, he/she/it was picking on a lovely young lady called Raisa, and was saying some awful things to her and completely freaked her out, so I went to her defence and FQ turned the attention my way. As far as I'm concerned it's only letters on a screen and it didn't phase me at all, but at least he/she/it gave up on Raisa. In all fairness to FQ, whoever you may be, he/she left a message on the Bulletin Board saying sorry to Raisa and myself and would never do it again. So FQ, from the both of us, thanks for the apology, we accept it. What other weirdos have we had? Well, there was a brightspark who decided it would be funny to use the nickname QueenRshite, another bad move from this person who was honoured with a ban.

While in there I've seen a lot of friendships made, and a couple that have fallen apart. I got a private message one evening from a very drunk girl who, how shall we phrase this, offered me her body and wanted to do all sorts of naughty things to me, I thanked her and declined...must be getting old or something. I have also witnessed relationships being made and, usually there is a lot of humour involved, but needless to say some arguments do occur. I have also seen some of the daftest things said. One guy was so convinced that one of the regulars was either Deaky or she was chatting with him in private that he actually started tracking her every move on the net. He also told me about some highly illegal activities he was up to concerning the band. I wouldn't have thought I was the best person to tell such stuff to, and needless to say I had a go at him. Just to add to his stupidity he's been recently boasting about his affair with an underage girl, and I reckon if he had any more sense he would be half witted. Having mentioned all the twits I'd like to say a quick hello to all the regulars, White Queen and Killer Queen, the lovely girls Blue Rock and Rannnnnnni, SQJan, Mayflower and her boys, Farookh (aka Leroy Brown) MarshMallow, the three Tigers - Babe, Lily and Stripes and the mighty Falc, also to all the rest who I haven't mentioned by name, you know who you are. I'd also like to say hi to Daddy Cool who is the singer in the Dutch cover band Miracle, and Dad, if you never make it as a singer you could make a great career from being a stand up comedian. Finally an extra special hello to the gorgeous MTB, who is about to make an honest man of me ;)

Before I go I'm sure I don't need to remind anyone of a certain date in November that is engraved in all of our minds. And I know that a lot of you will be heading to Garden Lodge to leave flowers. I don't wanna preach and tell you what to do, and I know flowers are a nice gesture, but they do die and the only people to really benefit from this is the florist. This year lets all give a donation, no matter how small, to Aids research, this way the cash will be used to try and stamp out this awful disease. If you really wanna leave flowers, buy a smaller, cheaper bunch and donate the balance of what you would have spent to these charities. It's been said a million times before but it is true, Every penny counts.

As always, Loadsa Love.

Crystal

[qqueenofhades]

Fake dating AU for the idiot Heartrender Husbands! I beg of you!

As ever, I am preposterously easy to enable, and since they will eventually make an appearance in A Phantom in Enchanting Light, I decided to write their backstory for that verse. Also, “fake dating but it’s only fake because they’re both idiots” is an Aesthetic. I love them.

Moscow, 2010

The guy is most definitely late. Fedyor got here early – probably too early, since they’re supposed to meet at eleven and he arrived by quarter past ten – but it’s now 11:08 and still no sign of him. Fedyor has claimed a corner table in the coffee shop just off Red Square with its splendid old tsarist-era décor, surrounded by the murmur of conversation and clicking laptop keys as his fellow Muscovites get on with their daily lives. The rule is fifteen minutes, yes? If Ivan Sakharov doesn’t show up in another seven, Fedyor is free to bail. But it’s been so long, and Nadia, the mutual friend responsible for this set-up, has begged Fedyor to give him a chance. And since it is understandably difficult to date as a gay man in Russia, Fedyor’s patience must be tested longer than usual. He sips his flat white and glances at the door again. Still no Ivan.

Fedyor opens his phone and checks the photo that Nadia sent him, trying to decide if this man is attractive enough to compensate for his tardiness. It’s hard to tell. It is 11:14, and he is absolutely about to pack up and leave by no later than 11:25, when a tall, grim-faced man in a red windbreaker strides in. He stops short, glances around, spots Fedyor, and powers over with such single-minded determination that Fedyor fears he’s about to be arrested. “Hello,” he says curtly. “I am Ivan Ivanovich Sakharov. I believe you are waiting for me?”

“Ah – ? I am Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky, yes,” he manages, offering a hand, which Ivan crushes in a Terminator grip. “It’s – nice to meet you?”

Ivan snorts, pulls out the other chair, and drapes his jacket over it, then orders a small plain coffee (black like his soul, evidently). Then he returns, sits down, and claps his hands as if he is calling a misbehaving class to attention. “Where are you from?” he barks. “How long have you lived in Moscow?!”

Fedyor continues to gape. He’s genuinely not sure if this is Ivan attempting to get to know him on speed-run, or if he’s being interrogated by a FSB agent who can’t even act for two seconds like he’s not. It’s ominously possible. Dmitry Medvedev is the president and there are hopes that there might be a social liberalization, but the Orthodox patriarchs and the far right have been increasingly agitating against Russia’s embattled LGBTQ community, and things could just as easily get worse. Is this a setup or a setup? Nadia would never knowingly put him in a dangerous situation, of course, but maybe she was likewise fooled. You’d think that if this was a sting, they could have found a guy who was actually capable of pretending to be on a date, but maybe that’s the point? What the hell is going on here?

Fedyor opens his mouth, then shuts it. As a matter of fact, he is originally from Nizhny Novgorod, but moved to Moscow for university and has lived here for seven years, but if Ivan is with the FSB, he probably already knows that. Is this a trick? Is Ivan trying to match him to some police intelligence file or see if he’s a liar? Fedyor is seriously about to get up and walk out (or maybe sprint out) when Ivan, perhaps realizing that he’s blowing this to a heretofore unprecedented degree, says, “Sorry. I am from Krasnoyarsk. I enjoy rugby.”

Of course he likes rugby if he’s from Krasnoyarsk. This is a disaster. “Uh, what side?”

“Krasny Yar,” says Ivan, in the tone of a man about to stand up and belt out the fight song. “I also enjoy football. Yenisey Krasnoyarsk. Though I have begun supporting Lokomotiv since I came to Moscow. That was five years ago.”

So, he’s definitely a hooligan. Fedyor does his best to keep smiling. In the flesh, Ivan is definitely not unattractive. His hair is crisp and brown, there are glints of hazel in his eyes, and he has that hard, chiseled handsomeness that Fedyor always ends up getting suckered into. Except for the fact that he is lively, extroverted, and outgoing, likes clubbing and mingling and making friends, and this man does not appear to have ever heard of a single one of those things. What was Nadia thinking? It’s not like her to whiff this badly. Or did she have to be so circumspect in asking Ivan if he would like to meet Fedyor that, even if he’s not an undercover cop, he is in fact clueless about the true nature of this social engagement? Thinks it’s guys being pals?

“Did you have somewhere you were coming from earlier?” Fedyor asks, after another excruciating silence. “Is that why you were – ?”

“My apologies. The bus was late. I am normally very punctual.” Ivan scowls ferociously, as if the bus ever dares to do such a thing again, he will personally murder it. “What hobbies do you enjoy, Fedyor Mikhailovich?”

“I think you can call me Fedyor, yes?” They are clearly nowhere near “Fedya” and “Vanya” just yet, but “Fedyor Mikhailovich” always makes Fedyor look around warily for his grumpiest professor at MSU. He tries to think of subtle conversational gambits to find out what Ivan knows, without being obvious. Oh God, he really should just cut his losses, but something – perhaps the pathetic conviction that even a terrible date is better than no date at all – keeps him in his seat. Presuming that he does get out of here alive, he will call up Nadia straightaway and ask her many, many questions, mostly consisting of Why??! “Well,” Fedyor says at last. “I like having fun?”

“I also enjoy fun,” Ivan says, stone-faced. “I am very funny.”

Russian humor is normally extremely deadpan, to the point that Fedyor does wonder if Ivan is in fact a diabolical troll genius, but somehow he doesn’t think so. The rest of the conversation proceeds in this fashion, but by the end of an hour, Fedyor still has no idea if he has just been on a date or a trip to the gulag. Ivan gets up, administers another bone-crushing handshake, thanks him for his time, and marches out. Fedyor can practically hear the Red Army Choir thundering some patriotic anthem in his wake.

When he gets home that afternoon, Fedyor is resolved to write off the whole thing, except it was weirdly kind of not as bad as he first thought, maybe, somehow. If nothing else, he’s fascinated by this, like watching a slow-motion train crash. He takes out his phone with the intention of calling Nadia, only to see a text message from an unfamiliar number. When he opens it, it reads, Hello. Your company was agreeable today. Thank you. Perhaps we could meet again next week. Please reply yes or no. The message uses the formal styles of address, and some of the spellings are slightly old-fashioned. He has also signed it – Иван Сахаров – in case there might be some confusion with another Ivan the Terrible at Dating of Fedyor’s recent acquaintance. It is a bit like getting a text from the undertaker.

Fedyor stares at it, insanely tempted to burst out laughing, and finally, just because now he’s too curious to refuse, texts back his gracious acceptance. Still chuckling, he makes dinner, and then, as his phone pings with Ivan’s response, wonders in horror what on earth he is getting himself into.

This is how things continue for the next six weeks. Ivan and Fedyor meet up for the second time, stroll sedately around one of Moscow’s many city parks together, then part ways, and this time it’s Fedyor’s turn to ask if he would like to do it again. He isn’t sure exactly why, except that Ivan is unexpectedly easy to spend time with, and he nods in stoic approval of whatever Fedyor says. Of course, they follow the usual rules of dating which are especially important in Russia: don’t talk about politics, don’t talk about religion, don’t talk about America, don’t talk about Ukraine, don’t talk about Chechnya. From what Fedyor can glean, Ivan’s views tend to the doctrinaire, but he is surprisingly undogmatic, and willing to at least act as if he has an open mind. If he was an FSB agent, it feels like he would have busted Fedyor by now, but maybe he is waiting for him to do something unmistakably gay. That’s not it. Right?

Nadia calls, wanting to know how it’s going, and Fedyor grills her for forty minutes over whether Ivan is a law enforcement plant, a lonely guy looking for a friend, the world’s most method practical joker, or just extremely stupid. Nadia insists that he is actually very nice once you get to know him (HA, thinks Fedyor) and has no particular affection for either the ruling classes or the oligarchs. He can certainly be an acquired taste, but he is not evil.

Forced to accept it, still chickening out of asking Ivan whether he knows they’re dating, wondering if they are dating, if Ivan knows that Fedyor knows they’re dating, if Fedyor only thinks he knows that they are dating while they are not actually dating, or if Ivan thinks he knows that they’re dating while they’re… whatever the fresh-fried fuck is truly happening here, Fedyor trudges off for what has become his almost-weekly rendezvous with Ivan the-Maybe-Not-Quite-So-Terrible. They manage to have a few conversations verging on meaningful, and Fedyor has found himself telling Ivan about his family and Nizhny Novgorod and other such things. Fedyor likes to talk and Ivan likes to listen, though he breaks in now and again with a bone-dry quip. He’s still never what you would call loquacious, or easily forthcoming, but Fedyor likes that. Ivan is tough, complex, enigmatic, guarded, occasionally willing to let down his walls but only if the other person is worth it, and Fedyor finds, to his surprise, that he wants to be worth it. If this is a long-con mind game, he almost doesn’t care. (Almost.)

The problem, however, is that they’ve been seeing each other regularly for a month and a half and they haven’t gotten any closer than walking through a park, outdoors, in full view of their fellow comrades. Even the first time Fedyor takes the plunge and invites Ivan to his apartment, they sit three feet apart on the couch, watching a badly-Russian-subtitled version of Die Hard and providing critical commentary. Fedyor’s English is a lot more fluent than Ivan’s, and his middle-class family, while not exactly wealthy, is definitely better off than Ivan’s hardscrabble clan of miners and loggers in Siberia. That upbringing certainly does explain, to some degree, why Ivan is the way he is, and Fedyor wonders anxiously if Ivan views him as an insufferably posh city boy. Ivan barely finished high school and went straight to working in a Krasnoyarsk aluminum factory. He definitely did not faff around Moscow State University and attend global development seminars in Paris.

Nonetheless, despite their obvious differences, they do get along, and Fedyor is unable to deny the fact that he would, if it’s all right with everyone, like it to be more than that. Of course, finding out if Ivan knows, etc. etc., has been the paramount challenge, and there is no way to find out other than to go for it. Fedyor is 75% sure that they’ve been going steady for two months, but if it’s actually the other 25%, this is going to get awkward in a hurry. Is this essentially a fake relationship, or is it only fake because they’re both idiots?

After having duly commended his soul to God, Fedyor invites Ivan over on Saturday night. He rents a tiny flat by himself since he’s been burned on rooming with strangers, but Ivan is used to it by now, and it doesn’t feel too small with the two of them. Fedyor strains his limited culinary skills to cook supper, probably making his babushka cluck her tongue and sigh in a judgmental fashion back in Nizhny Novgorod, and they sit down and eat in silence for five minutes. Then Fedyor says, “Vanya?”

The consistent use of the diminutive has started sometime in the last few weeks, neither of them remember quite when. Ivan doesn’t correct him. “Yes?”

Fedyor clears his throat. “Do you…” He winces. “Do you… like me?”

“Yes?” Ivan says again, looking confused. “I would not have spent so much time with you if I did not, don’t you think? We are friends.”

“Yes, I know that we’re friends, but…” Fedyor looks at the ceiling. It doesn’t help, so he looks back at Ivan. “Are we… special friends?”

Ivan continues to look blank. “Are we?”

Fedyor resists the urge to tug at his collar, thinking that it’s a damn good thing that he didn’t go with his other idea of just leaning across the table and passionately kissing him. With absolutely no change of tone or expression, Ivan says, “Please explain. Special friends how?”

“Friends who want to…” Fedyor takes a deep breath. “Be… more than friends?”

“How?” Ivan orders again, ruthlessly. “Be clear, Fedya.”

“Are we maybe… boyfriends?” Fedyor’s voice squeaks on the word. “As in… we have feelings for each other that aren’t just… friendly? Like… feelings which are… romantic?”

Ivan continues to stare at him like a statue for several more seconds, and Fedyor contemplates the feasibility of tunneling directly through the floor of his apartment and running all the way to Latvia. Then at last, Ivan throws his head back and – startling Fedyor deeply – breaks into real, genuine, belly laughter, the kind that he has never heard from Ivan before. “Oh my,” he chortles, slapping the table. “Your face. You were sweating bullets.”

“WAIT, WHAT!?!” Fedyor pushes his chair back and stands up with a clatter, incandescently outraged. “Are you – were you messing with me?!!”

“Maybe a little,” Ivan says, wiping his eyes. “You know, all this time, I have not been sure if you are shy or a terrible prude. Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“God’s Mother in Heaven – ” Fedyor feels another prick of disloyalty to his babushka for swearing on the Bogomater, but some people deserve it. All inhibitions forgotten, he charges at Ivan like a runaway train, as Ivan springs out of his own chair in readiness, and starts pounding on his chest in transports of fury. “You are the worst! You are the worst person ever! For two months, what have we been doing?! I have been afraid this whole time that maybe you don’t know what’s really going on, and now – ?! You are the worst!”

Ivan catches Fedyor’s flailing arms, holds them away from him, and picks him up bodily, swinging him around and pushing him against the wall. “Maybe I am just a dumb country boy from Siberia,” he remarks, “but even I am not that stupid, Fedyor Mikhailovich.”

“I hate you,” Fedyor pants, their faces and their mouths an inch away from each other. “Get out of my apartment.”

“Mmm?” Ivan cocks an eyebrow. Then he plants both hands on either side of Fedyor’s head, leans in, and deeply, savagely captures Fedyor’s mouth with his own.

Every remaining vestige of barely rational thought in Fedyor’s head evaporates in screaming shock. He still wants to shove Ivan away, knee him in the balls, or break a chair over his head, but if he did that, he would have to stop kissing him, and he can’t do that either. He moans, Ivan’s tongue takes the opportunity to slip into his mouth, their hands clutch and claw and their legs melt out from under them, they turn away or break contact only to gulp a breath before diving back in again, and the next time Fedyor is aware of anything, they have collapsed on his kitchen floor in a wrung-out, entangled, gasping heap. Ivan says in his ear, “Do you still want me to leave, Fedya?”

“No,” Fedyor manages. “Because now, I am really going to make you suffer.”

Ivan’s smile is dark and full of promise. He pulls back, gets to his feet, and holds out a hand. “Then I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

(Ivan doesn’t leave Fedyor’s apartment that night. He doesn’t leave it the next night either. At the end of the week, Fedyor calls up Nadia and informs her that he hates her so much, and when they do next see each other, he’ll shake her by both shoulders and then thank her for introducing him to the no-good, truly awful, very bad love of his life.)

[lukesperfectharmonyhair]

im rewatching jatp instead of studying for the 3 tests i have tomorrow and i thought i would share my thoughts and reactions with each episode so enjoy!!....

wake up

- hearing the “1, 2, 3″ at the start of the episode gives me more serotonin than my antidepressants ever will

- julie’s slippers...that’s it...that’s the thought

- that dry ass pasta the molina’s are eating for dinner??? someone needs to give my man ray some cooking tips or a cookbook... something

-the looks the boys give julie when she says it was an OLD cd she found. as if they could be old??

-the entire julie and luke kitchen scene i mean there are no words to describe how much i am in love with scene. the banter, the flirting, luke giving this girl he literally just met an actual PIECE OF HIS SOUL so she can get music back into her life. not a single time have i watched that scene and not felt my heart literally grow cause of how cute they are. 

-the entire scene when julie is singing wake up. that scene is what made me literally CRAVE watching the other episodes. like of course i was going to watch them cause i wasn’t gonna just stop watching a show after one episode, and yes the show was good already but seeing the lighting and her voice, and just everything about the scene,,,,*chef’s kiss* 

bright

-flynn drinking seven sodas....SEVEN??? i would be throwing up if i drank more than like 2 and she drank seven,,,no ma’am.

- flynn and her trumpet. talented queen

- “ i wouldn’t have given you the song if i didnt think you were gonna rock it.” lmaooo im crying:)

- i start tearing up every time julie goes to play the first notes of bright,,, and then i’m full on bawling when the guys come in and play with her cause...they weren’t playing to be seen they were playing to be there for her and play to comfort her. pls i love them<3

- nick vibing in the front row

- the tech guy deserves so much more praise

flying solo

- reggie’s little butt shake or whatever you wanna call it!!

- julie’s little laugh when she yells at the guys to stop it

- “and we’re on the runway again” GENUINELY one of my favorite lines of the whole show pls i love luke’s humor

-this is the first time i noticed this but reggie’s face after alex says “DONT TELL ME HOW TO GHOST!”

-WILLIE!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU<3333333

-the slow mo helmet take off,,,,me too alex me too

-willie’s little giggles:))))

- “oh-oh!”

- “no clue” alex i love you baby<3

- next season better give us a scene of flynn throwing eggs at someone’s house because i think it’s safe to say we were robbed of that experience. 

- the flying solo performance is just amazing

i got the music

- just the whole opening scene is so cute ....the dancing, singing, happiness RADIATING from julie 

-nick in an all white suit and fedora

-WILLEX MUSEUM DATE YEAH BABYYYYY

- carefree skateboarder bf and anxiety ridden drummer bf

- yelling. in. museums. 

-alex thinking he’s literally dying again because of the salt... zero braincells in this band.

- another scene we were robbed of that i need to see in season 2...reggie singing “home is where my horse is” while alex and julie sit patiently and attentively listen to him but luke looks like he’s about to commit murder

- i get SO MUCH second hand embarrassment for julie when she looks through luke’s songbook and says “ wow luke I didn’t know you were such a romantic” julie baby i love you but...eekkkkk

- “he looks like a substitute teacher”- where did he come up with that like so many other things he could be compared to but a substitute teacher??

- “luke introduced you to rock” heck yeah it did.. literal soulmates

- would like to see a picture of the raccoon in Flynn’s backyard

- wee woo wee woo police sirens://///

- julie’s outfit ughhhh i love it

- the poster that im pretty sure says “sexiest role” behind caleb... why was that necessary 

the other side of hollywood

- THE ENTIRE PERFORMANCE OF THE OTHER SIDE OF HOLLYWOOD 

- i lose my absolute shit over this song omg literal chills

- the cape grab i cannot physically do this rn

- willie being so excited the entire performance and looking over to see alex’s reaction

- reggie being in awe everytime one of the girls performing does something.. me too reggie

-”well i wouldn't really call it mAAgiCcCC bUT”

- nick and his fedora again

- alex has a crush, alex has a crush on.....WILLIE

-the boys eating food for the first time in 25 years is honestly so realistic

-alex shoving a whole slice of pizza in his mouth

- lukes ‘OH MY GODDDDD’

- reggie kissing his meatball sub that looks painfully dry but also delicious 

- the continuation of the other side of hollywood performance and everyone dancing

-reggie imitating caleb’s evil laugh and owen trying so hard not to break

-me getting mad at the boys for not showing up for julie and being sad with her but at the same time i’m obviously not mad at the boys just...disappointed?? idk 

finally free

- how did julie get to the school if she missed the first three classes?? wasn’t she still at flynn’s house from the night before cause she slept over so did she walk to school or was she just sitting in flynn’s house by herself and one of flynn’s parents was like you gonna go to school or???

-dance class with nicky poo<3

-reggie fixing his amp in the rain

-julie’s blue dress outfit in this episode is my ABSOLUTE favorite 

- the birthday candle scene makes me sob like a little baby,,,and rightfully so

- julie smart, smart to be taking calculus as what a sophomore??

- all eyes on me yes queen iconic

- alex dancing is how i dance in my brain whenever the song comes on 

- finally free as a song is NEVER given enough credit and why not?? it’s my favorite song they do as a band AND the madison’s vocals and the echoing part omg i loveeeee

- and the whole performance with luke’s heart eyes. i count this performance as the moment luke like fell in love with julie...like full on just blown away with how much awe and admiration he has for her in that moment and all the time.

 - julie and luke singing “and you’re a part of me” while staring directly into each others soul,,,yeah that’s love kids

edge of great

- carlos being the ghost hunter he is and tía being done with him

- luke’s pouting face 

- reggie and ray making breakfast together is so wholesome. reggie really loves and seeks comfort in ray and i love that

- luke just waiting next to julie’s locker and his little “hey”

- the first time i watch this scene i thought charlie was from new york cause of the way he says “ i can't do this without you” and then i watched the cast interviews and just realized he is somewhat joey tribbiani 

- jealous luke hehehehehhehehe

- “well dont you look shARrP”- yes he does luke thank you very much

- “uh oh i think someone has a crush on julie” yeah you do you little shit,,, now admit it to her

- the proud look on luke’s face when he realizes julie is still paying attention to HIM even though she’s supposed to be having a full on conversation with nick

- the shoulder push ( as someone who has had their own shoulder pushed in the middle of a high school hallway as a weird way of flirting,,,,i can definitely somewhat attest to how luke is feeling in that moment and i too continued to flirt with the person who shoulder shoved me while we were still standing in the hallway)

- the flow from whatever the hell dance nick and julie are doing and the perfect harmony dance is so special to me and i love it

-ADOANCLOBNAOVBCOAB THE HAIR PLSSSSS

- EVERYTIME THE SCENE COMES ON AND I SEE HIM WALKING THROUGH THE MIRROR I HAVE TO PAUSE THE SHOW FOR LIKE 10 MINUTES WHILE I DIE LAUGHING BECAUSE THE HAIR IS SO BAD EVEN THOUGH I SHOULD BE USED TO HOW IT LOOKS AFTER WATCHING THIS SHOW LITERALLY 30 TIMES

- i think people see my username and assume i like his hair in this scene but...ummm fun little fact i do not like it

- the dance is so good though ugh my babies

- the hair

- madison is gorgeous 

- another season 2 scene i need: julie teaching this dance to luke and they perform it in front of alex and reggie so they can see luke roll on the floor like that

-the hair

- the lift i loveeee

- the voices at the end of the song *chef’s kiss*

- the way julie spins out from luke and into nick omg so good

- “thAnKs pArTnER”

- luke denying his feelings for julie,,,babe pls

- the whole edge of great performance is so good and beautiful and the colors are SPECTACULAR 

-julie avoiding luke’s gaze lolz

- can't believe my mans really tried to deny he didn’t have feelings for julie like 5 hours earlier even though he’s getting upset because she hasn’t looked at him in 2 minutes

- THE. GUITAR. RIFF. SOLO.

- when i finally learn how to play the electric guitar well enough to learn the guitar solo... it’s over for everyone

-nick just came to watch the girl he likes perform not watch her flirt with a hologram plssss can we give this man a break next season.

- “we have to say goodbye to julie”- that’s literally more important to luke than not playing music anymore because julie is music to him now

unsaid emily

-already crying and the episode hasn't even started

-willex in the orpheum

- alex literally being OVER reggie

- nope too emotionally unstable to watch this scene right now

- my therapist will be hearing about this tomorrow

- show us the baby picture of luke cowards

- this is such a beautiful song that makes me cry every fucking time gosh damn it

- everytime i watch the flashback scene of luke on his bike i think of “christmas song” by phoebe bridges and i cry even more

- i tried to learn how to play this song on my electric guitar (because i dont have an acoustic guitar) and i ended up crying half way through so i do not think i will be playing it anytime soon:/

- the harmonies *chef’s kiss*

- THE POLICE LIGHTS ....i cry

- FAT tears rolling down my face

- there's literally not a moment i don’t cry during this episode

- interesting little relationship :0

- when i played percussion in 7th grade i used to lay down on the couch in the practice room at school ( which god knows what people did on that couch...ew) and stick my drumsticks up my nose too,,,, just another similarity between alex and i 

stand tall

- willie really drove a bus 200 miles into the desert for his crush

- WILLEX HUG 

- i love willie no last name so much,,,i just wanna hold and protect him

- alex’s ballerina dance

-julie’s overall outfit i love<3

- “im swimming”

- the way carlos hangs up the iPad on tía makes me CRACK UP he’s just lmao bye girl

- another julie outfit i love

- “anything julie. you know that.” AHHHHHAASIDSJFPACISN love bitches

- the suits

- luke’s hair in this episode is so much better than the perfect harmony hair pls

- YOU GOT NOTHING TO LOSE

- the way luke looks so restricted and confined in his suit... but at the same time he looks like a 10 week old puppy

-luke’s AGGRESSIVE but small foot tapping leading up to being on the stage

- the solos:)))))

- crying again over julie’s monologue to her mom

- julie really was brave enough to be ready to perform by herself

-the way Trevor looks at carrie when she says “been here before”

-ALEXXXXXX

-REGGIEEEEE

-luuukkKKKEEEEEEE

- this performance makes me cry

- especially the first time when i saw luke flickering...sobs

- he finally looks free in his suit:))

- alex’s solo is so pretty i love him

- reggie’s solo too 

- nick just straight up vibing the entire performance

- alex and luke holding hands...hehehe cute besties

- “thank you, guys” NO THANK YOU 

- the way julie begs for them to do something about the jolts for HER cause she knows luke would never say no to her

- “no music is worth making, julie, if we’re not making it with you,” I JUST SCREAMED AND IM PRETTY SURE I WOKE UP MY ENTIRE HOUSEHOLD...whoops

- going back to that line i could say so much about it but....for someone who’s life was literally MUSIC for the 17 years he was alive, and after finding out he could play music again even though he was dead and saying it made him feel alive, he would give that up- he would give up playing his guitar, playing in a band with his friends, give up writing and singing music- if he wasn’t doing that with julie. that’s more than saying i love you,,,that’s literally like saying i’d give up my ENTIRE LIFE and what i love to do if i dont get to do it with you

- i just made myself cry with that description...wow

-the hug<3

-also imagine how luke felt in that moment,,, hearing this girl, once again that he would give his life up for, saying in his ear that she loves them. i would motherfucking glow too, luke

- *passionately but gently holds each others faces*

-HANDS OFF MY BABY NICK, CALEB

- caleb’s outfit is....something

- the head turn plssss

this was so long and i am so sorry but if you read this far.....leave some of your own reactions or thoughts:)))

k goodnight im gonna, ugh, finally go study ://

[deangirl-interrupted]

You Wake up a Stranger to Yourself (then you learn to live with her)

For @spnwomenweek Day 2: Family Claire POV Claire/Kaia Wayward Sisters Fluff Background Destiel & Saileen Rated: T (just some swearing) Note:  Niamh is pronounced “Neeve”

______________________________________________

You're not a Winchester.

Until, one day, you are.

Claire watched the ceremony with a certain smug satisfaction, from her place beside Castiel as his "best man."

She knows that Castiel's used the name Novak when he's needed Jimmy's old I.D. (and face) to do useful things like rent cabins in which to raise the child of Lucifer. But it's never truly been his. It's a name he stole.

But when he and Dean got married, with the legal papers and everything (thanks to Charlie) Castiel was given the gift of the name Winchester.

That gift was sealed with a kiss.

Claire watched as Sam clapped Cas on the back and said, "You've always been one of us."

***

When Sam finally popped the question to Eileen, it had been three years since they'd defeated Chuck and saved the world again. Dean kept hassling him, telling him to man up and just do it. Sam kindly reminded him that he'd spent an infuriating twelve years pining for his husband, so kindly shut the fuck up about it.

Eileen had no intention of dropping her ancestral last name, and Sam had absolutely no problem with that. They decided to hyphenate to Leahy-Winchester, with both of them taking that name.

Claire was 25 when she found herself on a hunt with Eileen. They'd known each other for years, of course, but had never hunted together. Claire had been practicing her ASL since before Sam and Eileen got hitched, and Eileen was impressed with the ease and fluidity that Claire had mastered.

It was a simple salt and burn, nothing too strenuous, so they had some down time.

Leaning up against the side of Claire's car, Eileen suddenly said, "This is my last case."

Claire blinked at her a few times before saying and signing, "What, why?"

Eileen gave her a shit-eating grin and slowly rubbed a hand over her abdomen. "I'm brewing a new Leahy-Winchester."

Claire cackled. After hugging Eileen and wiping happy tears from her eyes, she said, "The monsters won't know what hit them."

***

Claire let Kaia drive them to go meet baby Niamh Leahy-Winchester.

Claire had been jumpy and nervous for some reason. She hadn't actually been back to Jody's in an age, and she hadn't seen the Winchester clan in even longer.

It's not that she didn't want to, she'd just been busy traveling with Kaia, looking at the world as an explorer and not just a hunter. Actually stopping to see some sights and stuff. And it's not like she hadn't been texting everyone! They had a group chat! It was a perfectly legit way to stay in touch!

She felt a bit guilty about it, anyway.

Kaia looked over at her and smiled, as if she could tell what Claire was thinking. Hell, maybe she could.

"It'll be fine," Kaia said as they pulled to a stop in front of a one story rancher with yellow siding, a white dogwood tree in the front yard, and a devil's trap painted underneath the welcome mat.

They held hands as they approached the house, and didn't bother knocking since the door was cracked anyway.

Everyone was gathered in a fairly small living room, huddled around Eileen and a tiny bundle in a yellow blanket with bees embroidered on it.

(Claire knew, without a doubt, that Cas had picked that out. He may have even knitted it himself, the weird ass.)

Claire knew that Kaia was still a bit uncomfortable around large groups like this, even though she knew and loved them just the same, so she let go of her girlfriend's hand and sauntered over to the group, throwing an arm around Dean's shoulders from behind.

"What's new up in here?" Claire said, throwing a wink at Eileen.

Claire soon found herself caught up in a group hug consisting of her surrogate mother and her two (kinda) gay dads.

"Geez," Claire said, trying to wiggle free, "You guys act like you haven't seen me in a year. I can't breathe."

Jody pulled away and said, "It has been nearly a year, Claire! And before you say anything, texting doesn't count!"

(Damn.)

Cas pulled away but left his hands on her shoulders, keeping her at arm's length and giving her a good once-over.

Seemingly satisfied by whatever he saw, he finally let her go.

"We've missed you, Claire," he said, so softly that it broke her heart a little.

Dean smiled and said, "Yeah, you leave for months at a time and you don't call, you don't write..."

Claire knew that she was letting Dean get her riled up, but that was just part of the comfortable little game they played. "I texted all of you! Like, literally everyone in this room! Some of you I even texted this morning!"

Alex and Patience laughed at her from their spot by a large bay window with sheer white curtains, and when she looked over at them, they both gave her a little wave.

Claire knew they wouldn't be coming to her defense.

It made her smile.

Donna walked over and pulled Claire to her, giving her just as big of a hug as the others. "Okie doke, let's leave the poor girl alone, and let her meet Niamh."

Claire was then unceremoniously dragged over to Eileen, who was watching with amusement. But it also got her closer to Sam, who stood up to give her a hug, and then leaned down to take the infant from Eileen's arms.

"Niamh," Sam said to the baby, with the most besotted look on his face, "This is your big sister, Claire."

And with that, Claire's brain made the sound of a record scratch. Claire.exe stopped working. Big sister? Is that really how Sam and Eileen saw her? As a daughter? Dean and Cas acted like that with her, and so did Jody and Donna, but those were more obvious. She and Sam had never been as close, though he was often the more reasonable Winchester brother. But this whole time, she was just everyone's adopted kid?

Claire was self-aware enough to know that she had softened a bit as she got older, but as Sam gently placed Niamh into her arms, and she looked around the room at everyone she loved, she felt her eyes go all misty.

This whole time, after losing both of her biological parents as an only child, it turned out that she had more parents and siblings than she knew what to do with.

Kaia appeared next to her, to look down at the baby in her arms.

"She's so small," Kaia said, whisper soft.

Claire looked at Kaia with a watery smile and then back down at the baby.

Gently rocking the infant, Claire quietly said, "Hi, Niamh. I'm Claire, and this is Kaia. You are so loved, and I know that someday you're gonna blow us all away."

Niamh gurgled happily.

***

"Are you sure about this?" Charlie asked Claire over the phone.

"Yeah, why, is it weird?"

"No, no!" Charlie said, quickly. "It's just that...I know I'm not from here, and I'll never be 'their Charlie,' but I've learned that this name comes with an awful lot of baggage."

"Nah," Claire said, easily. "To me, it's a name that sets me free."

Charlie laughed a bit and said, "As long as you're sure, I'll send the new documents to you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Charlie," Claire said with genuine relief in her voice. "This really means a lot to me."

After a "peace out, bitch!" Claire ended the call and let her phone drop to the sofa.

Kaia walked over and sat down next to her, taking one of Claire's hands in both of hers.

"When are you going to tell them?" she asked.

Claire grinned and squeezed Kaia's hands, "I'll probably wait for a while. I don't want to give them the satisfaction."

Kaia laughed.

***

When Claire and Kaia met with the landlord, to see what would hopefully become their first official apartment together, Claire shook the little old lady's hand and said with a dazzling smile, "Nice to meet you, I'm Claire Winchester."

[anchoviesinthenightsky]

As promised, here's a preview of my new fic (coming out 9.26)

*Two notes before you read. This is a Luca/Alberto fic, but Alberto doesn't show up in the preview. He will be in the chapters uploaded on Sunday.

Additionally, my initial idea for this fic was "what if a character fake-dated two people. but only one of the relationships was actually fake? Bet that would be confusing for that character"... insert Luca. So know that's part of the story.

[fic announcement here]

[read more snippets here]

preview below cut. length: 1285 words

tags: no archive warnings apply, luca/alberto, giulia/female oc, fake dating, aged up [Luca (25), Giulia (25), Alberto (26)]

In Luca’s opinion, there was an unwritten pact between childhood friends that dictated the ways of maintaining those friendships far into adulthood. This included guidelines like never forget a birthday, be there to listen when they need someone, and when getting them flowers, the flowers should be in their favorite color. The most important rule, though, was to go along with their haphazard plans when they’ve dug themselves into a whole.

Which Giulia had.

Which was also why Luca found himself walking down the hallway of his old Genova high school, on the last day of classes with a bouquet of orange flowers and a box of chocolates under his arm. He nodded as he passed the other science teachers in Giulia’s hallway. He didn’t know most of their names, and he didn’t particularly care to.

Giulia’s room was decorated with vintage constellation posters that clashed with the modern-day Principles of Physics posters. Giulia was crouched over her desk, scribbling notes onto a piece of paper. Luca plastered a smile on his face, ready to put on a performance.

He cleared his voice and spoke loud enough for the teachers in the hallway to hear. “Congrats on another successful year, sweetie.”

The words felt blocky and bitter in his mouth. Only Giulia could see his face as he cringed at them.

“Oh honey, what a lovely surprise!” Giulia exclaimed. She mimed excitement, glancing over Luca’s shoulders at someone.

Luca turned to see who. One of Giulia’s coworkers was standing outside the door, glaring at Luca.

“Sorry for interrupting,” He said in a tone that sounded not the least bit sorry. “I was hoping to steal Giulia for a moment.”

“What for, Eugenio?” Giulia asked. She adjusted the handkerchief in her hair, tightening it.

“I wanted to get a second opinion on something.”

“Oh. Well, I’m busy right now,” Giulia said as she walked to her classroom door. “But I think Mr. Bianco is still in the building. I’m sure he could help you.”

“I was hoping for your opinion, specifically,” Eugenio pushed.

“I’m sure Mr. Bianco can help. I need to catch up with my boyfriend.” Giulia flashed a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and started to close her classroom door. “See you next school year.”

She shut the door the rest of the way.

“Lock it.” Luca mouthed.

Giulia shook her head.

“Just in case.” He whispered.

Giulia rolled her eyes and locked the door. As she walked back to her desk, the doorknob jiggled as someone tried to open it from the other side.

“Told you,” Luca whispered. “That guy is a grade-A asshole.”

“He really is.”

“I can’t believe he still works here.”

“Yeah, well HR didn’t particularly do anything with my complaints about him repeatedly asking me out and not taking no as an answer.”

“You could tell him you’re a lesbian,” Luca suggested.

“Absolutely not.” Giulia pressed her pen hard enough as she signed her name that the paper tore. She sighed and smoothed the tear and reached for a piece of tape. “Either he won’t care and keep asking me out, or he’d be a creep about it.”

“You could tell him you’re dating someone.” Luca said, thinking of the woman Giulia had been seeing for the better part of the last two years.

“I am telling him that I’m dating someone.” Giulia said, giving Luca a pointed look.

“Oh right.” Luca said sheepishly. He looked down at the bouquet in his hand. “These are for you, by the way.”

He set them on the desk by Giulia. She picked them up and sniffed one of the lilies. “They’re lovely. Thank you, Luca.”

“No problem.”

Giulia eyed the box of chocolate in Luca’s hand.

“Oh, these are for me,” Luca said with a smirk. “But I guess you can have some.”

Giulia laughed, genuine and bright. “You’re too kind.”

“I do my best.” Luca grinned back. He opened the box and handed it to her to pick the first one. “Do you and Rosina have any plans?”

“We’re going down to harbor to get lunch and drink wine.” She selected one of the chocolates with a pink swirl on top.

“That sounds like a great time.” Luca said. He plucked what he hoped was a coconut flavored truffle out of the box.

“What about you?”

“Packing.” Luca bit into the chocolate, and scrunched his nose at the taste. It was caramel.

“The coconut one has the white dot,” Giulia said.

“Oh right,” Luca popped the rest of the caramel one in his mouth and took the coconut chocolate. “Are you packed yet?”

“I did it last night,” Giulia took a bite out of her chocolate. “I’m surprised you didn’t. Normally you’re packed a week before we head back to Portorosso.”

“Well, you know. It was the last week of school. I had classes to prepare for.”

“For third graders? What do they even learn the last week of school?”

“Not much, but I had a lot of parties.” Luca grinned.

“That sounds like fun.”

“If you like a bunch of screaming nine-year-olds, who have had too much sugar.”

“I do not.” Giulia said. “That’s why I teach high school.”

“You’re missing out.” Luca bit into his second chocolate. “You’re right this one is coconut.”

“Told ya.”

Luca rolled his eyes and changed the topic. “Hard to believe we’ve been teaching for two years.”

“I know right? I still feel like I’m a kid sometimes.”

“Me too! Except then I look at actual kids, and it’s like ‘wow you are so young.’” Luca said.

“They are so young!”

“I know!”

“When did we get old?”

“We’re not even that old yet!” Luca said animatedly. “We’re only 25.”

“Imagine what it’ll be like when we’re 70.”

“I can barely even imagine what 28 looks like.” Luca laughed. “God, and the kids think we’re old. One of my third graders told me today that he hoped I was still alive next year so that he could wave at me in the hallway.”

“Geez.”

“I know!Apparently, I look like I have a foot in the grave.”

“You don’t even have any gray hairs yet.”

“Maybe after another year of teaching,” Luca joked.

“Don’t I know it. I found a gray hair last week, and I considered quitting on the spot.” Giulia said.

“Would you ever actually quit teaching?” Luca asked.

“Nah,” Giulia answered immediately. “I love it too much.”

Luca nodded. “You’re good at it too.”

“I am,” Giulia smiled. “What about you?”

“I don’t know,” Luca leaned against a desk. “Maybe not in Genova.”

“Oh?” Giulia turned to look fully at him. “Where would you want to teach?”

“No idea,” Luca answered honestly. “I’ll just stay here until I figure that out, I guess.”

“Mm.”

Luca waited for Giulia to say more, but if she had any thoughts, she kept them to herself. Luca pushed himself off the table.

“Well,” Luca said. “Can I walk you out? I’m sure Rosina is waiting.”

“I’m sure she is,” Giulia laughed. She shoved the last few papers from her desk into her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

Luca offered his hand and Giulia took it.

“This won’t be forever,” Giulia said as she unlocked the classroom door. “you know that right?”

“What? Us doing this?”

“Yeah,” Giulia paused with her hand on the door. “I know it’d been rough on you.”

“It has not been rough on me.”

“I heard you had to turn down one of the first-grade teachers when she asked you out.”

“I probably would have turned her down anyway,” Luca said, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t have time to think about dating.”

“Do you not have the time, or do you just not want to?” Giulia asked as she opened the door.

“Both,” Luca answered.

"Or maybe there's someone else?" Giulia gave him a sly smile.

Luca shook his head. "I'm just busy. That's all."

Giulia gave him a look but didn’t push any further.

[golchaworld]

Brown Sugar, Cinnamon Spice | H. HJ

pairing: baker!hyunjin x wedding planner!reader, (implied fem!reader), various celebrity cameos

genre: tooth-rotting fluff, a pinch of angst

word count:  5.4k

warnings: none!

summary: amidst stress and loneliness, you find your own decadence.

A/N:  this is probably the longest fic I’ve written in the shortest amount of time!  This only took me a few days start to finish.  I guess I was super in love with the concept, and I hope y’all are too.  As always, comments, critiques, and feedback are welcome and encouraged.  My ask box is always open.  Enjoy :D

You swear you’re going to die from a sugar overdose.  Not from the piece of red velvet cheesecake sitting in front of you, but instead from the gazes that the couple in front of you shares.  They fuss and coo, feeding each other different types of cake with disgustingly sweet smiles on their faces.  It would be cute...if you didn’t have to deal with this everyday.

Planning weddings was always your dream.  There was something so whimsical about the aura of weddings, the aura of love, that was always destroyed by the stress of planning.  Ever since you were little, you vowed to take as much stress off of engaged couples as possible, in order to let them bask in the excitement of getting married.

Four years after college, and here you are, the best wedding planner in the city.  The best wedding planner in the city, and absolutely, devastatingly single.

It’s not that you expected to be happily married by 25, but it would be nice to at least have a boyfriend, a significant other, someone.  But no, instead you’re forced to help happy couples as they live out your dream.  All too often you find yourself wishing you were in the place of the bride-to-be, having a fiancé to fawn over.

It’s sad, really, the way you watch the couple across from you as they bask in their pre-marital bliss.  Every glance feels intimate.  Every spoonful that they feed to each other feels private.  You smile sadly before clearing your throat.

“I’ll leave you two to go through more of the cakes.  Let me know when you guys make a decision.  I’ll be waiting up front.”

The couple dismisses you with a wave, barely taking their eyes off of each other.  You just set your shoulders and smooth out the blouse that’s tucked artfully into your skirt.  Your heels make a satisfying click as you make your way to the front counter, adorned with cases of pastries and other sinful sweets.  It’s the one behind the counter, however, that makes your head fill with sugar.

Hwang Hyunjin was more than just a familiar face. He was a college acquaintance, mutual friends always having the two of you running into each other. After graduation, the two of you were the only ones who decided to stay in the city, some twisted stab of fate bringing you closer. 

You can say he’s your glorified best friend. The two of you aren’t exactly the closest, but you see each other often enough that conversation has moved from awkward to easy, distant to friendly. It also helps that the both of you have entered a sort of...business agreement. 

You send any couples needing to taste cakes to his bakery first. When anyone comes to him with an order for a large event that needs planning, he sends them your way. 

Now, the man just looks relaxed, smiling at you with a streak of white flour on his cheek. He leans one arm against the counter and you struggle not to look down at the way it flexes. Hyunjin always said that baking proves to be a full body workout. You can’t help but agree. 

“Which one are they leaning towards?” Hyunjin asks in lieu of greeting. 

“No idea.” You scrunch your nose in disgust. “They were too busy feeding each other and flirting to make any actual judgements about the cake.”

Hyunjin giggles in that unique way of his, high pitched and muted. His cheeks scrunch up, causing crow’s feet to form around his eyes. The flour flakes off in some spots. 

“You can’t blame them,” Hyunjin teases. “They’re in love. Unlike a certain grumpy pants over here.”

You scoff at his insinuations. 

“Don’t be jealous, Y/N.”

“I am not jealous! It would just make my life a lot easier if they just chose the damn cake.”

Hyunjin cocks an eyebrow. “Which one of us is actually baking it again?”

You roll your eyes. “Shut it, Hyunjin.”

The bell above the door chimes, announcing the arrival of a new wave of customers. Hyunjin shoots a wink your way before heading over to the cash register. He has on his salesman smile, and that alone has the group of girls in front of him swooning. 

In college,  Hwang Hyunjin was the mega-hot culinary business student who never slept around and went to church every Sunday. Now Hyunjin is the mega-hot baker-slash-bakery owner who may or may not sleep around but still goes to church every Sunday. It’s fair to say that the entire city is in love with him. 

They have a right to be, of course. Hyunjin is a hot, young, single guy who bakes for crying out loud. He specializes in wedding cakes. What 26 year old man specializes in wedding cakes?

Hyunjin, the anomaly that he is, is the apple of everyone’s eye, a diamond in the rough, a sweet lawn in the concrete jungle. He’s a breath of fresh air, coated in sugary sweetness. 

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him. 

Even now, you watch how he makes small talk with his customers, how he shoots them small smiles and flirty winks. He lays the charm on thick; anything to get them to buy an extra cannoli, he says. And like a moth to a flame, you’re drawn in. You’re drawn into his sweet smile, his long blonde hair, the beauty mark under his left eye. It leaves you with a sugar rush. 

Eventually, you’re called back to reality by your clients approaching. They decide on a simple yellow cake with the strawberry and vanilla pudding filling. Internally, you smile, knowing that it’s Hyunjin’s best seller...obviously for a reason. 

You leave the couple with a reassurance that you’ll set up an appointment with Hyunjin to go over the design of the cake. They mentioned that they already have pre-determined cake toppers, and you fight not to roll your eyes. It’s always the cheesiest when the couples pick their own toppers. 

You plaster on a smile and wave them goodbye, watching as the door closes behind them with a soft thud, the bell above still chiming. You glance down at your wristwatch and sigh. You have 15 minutes to get to Yeji’s dress fitting, all the way across the city. You straighten your shoulders, fix your blouse, and give Hyunjin one last glance on the way out. 

He winks in return. 

.         .         .

The catch of Hyunjin being your pseudo-best friend is that he has to take care of you. Not that you need a lot of taking care of. But at the end of a long work day, Hyunjin is always there to pick up the pieces. He always gives you a choice of desserts to make the day better, and today you choose to do so with tiramisu. 

You practically groan when the first bit of coffee cream hits your tastebuds, followed by the bittersweet hint of cocoa powder. The cake is rich and moist, melting on your tongue in a way that’s not overly decadent. It’s not until you hear a chuckle from across from you do you realize that your eyes are closed. 

When you open them, Hyunjin beams at you from across the counter, laughing at the way you’re indulging in your dessert. 

“Stop laughing at me,” you command around a mouthful of cream. 

“I’m not! It’s just,” Hyunjin tucks a blonde strand behind his ear. “You eat this tiramisu like twice a week, and every time you act like it’s the first...or like it’s going to be your last.”

“You should take it as a compliment.”

Hyunjin chuckles again. “Maybe I do.”

The bakery has a different aura at night. Instead of the lively buzz of coffee cups and sugar rushes, it’s bathed in a velvety decadence, illuminated by the subtle light of the pastry display. All of the chairs have been put up for the night, all of the leftover pastries have been discarded, all of the employees gone for the night. It just leaves you, Hyunjin, and the bold cream of tiramisu. 

The first time Hyunjin had invited you to the bakery after hours, you thought he was joking. The two of you hadn’t been that close yet, and spending secluded, unstructured time together seemed like a recipe for disaster. To your surprise, however, the night was comfortable and casual, spent test-tasting various desserts and laughing over various college memories. 

It surprised you how much Hyunjin embraced you when everyone else from school moved onto different things. In a city this big, it wouldn’t have been hard for him to disregard you completely. You stay up at night wondering why he didn’t.

“So, how was the fitting?”

Hyunjin looks genuinely interested as you recount the details of your day. At a certain point he even reaches for a fork, indulging in the tiramisu with you. With his cheeks full to the brim, he nods, smiles and inserts commentary wherever necessary. Hyunjin has always been the best listener.

“Why do you plan weddings if it stresses you out so much?”

You pout at Hyunjin’s questions. “Why do you run a bakery if it stresses you out so much?”

“Because I get to eat delicious treats at the end of the day.”

You smirk. “So do I.”

“Touché,” Hyunjin smiles. 

The two of you are quiet for a moment, indulging in the last few bites of tiramisu. It makes you smile, the way Hyunjin is still in love with all of his desserts after having to make them all day, every day. After every bite he groans dramatically, pointing an accusatory finger at the cake to say “damn you for being so good.” 

When the tiramisu is finished, and all that’s left is the sound of forks scraping empty plates, Hyunjin sighs. 

“Are you going to plan your own?”

“My own wedding?” When Hyunjin nods in response, you chuckle sadly. “At this point, it looks like I’ll never even have a wedding, let alone have the chance to plan it.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “Don’t lie. I’m sure you have suitors lining up to take your hand in marriage.”

You scoff, picking up the plate that once held your tiramisu. You deposit it in the sink full of soapy water behind the counter, along with the fork. Hyunjin grabs your arm as you get closer, forcing you to face his looming form. 

“I’m being serious, you know.”

You shrug in response. “Maybe that’s the problem. My love life is such a joke that you being serious about it seems like an insult.”

“It wasn’t anything.”

“I know.”

“Then why—“

You’re quick to cut the man off. “It’s getting late, Hyunjin. I’ll see you, okay?”

You don’t wait for Hyunjin to respond, leaving the man nodding dumbly behind the counter. At the first whip of the harsh wind against your face, you groan. Hyunjin was supposed to be your ride home.

.        .        .

The thing about the city is that celebrity weddings are frequent. Celebrity weddings, known for their flashy, expensive decorations, and over-the-top attire single handedly wipe out your energy for the entire season. But they pay well. 

The money may or may not be the reason you sit in front of the Minatozaki Sana in your office, her hand being held by her fiancé. He’s a gorgeous man, with a strong jaw and high cheekbones. That much is expected as the fiancé of the top model in the country. 

“So do you guys have a date in mind?” You ask the couple, a warm smile glossing over your face. 

“Well,” Sana glances at her fiancé before returning your gaze. “We were hoping for November 18th.”

“Got it! So a year and a month isn’t too bad. It’s a little tight for planning, but—“

The fiancé chuckles. “Oh no, I think you’ve misunderstood. We meant November 18th, 2020. We want to get married next month.”

You can’t help the way your jaw drops. A month for a normal wedding would be hell on earth. A month for a celebrity wedding is like jumping head first into Dante’s Inferno. Your distress must be palpable, seeing as Sana’s brows furrow almost instantly. 

“That’s...doable right?” She asks with wide eyes. 

“Umm,” you rack your brain for words. “It’s going to be tight. Like really tight. But yes, it’s doable.”

Sana instantly lights up, clasping her fiancé’s hands in hers. “Oh wonderful! I’m so excited.”

You nod in agreement, plastering on the biggest smile you can manage. 

“Oh! And one more thing!” Sana’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “I want a Hwang Cake!”

.        .        .

Three hours later, you’re seated across from the engaged couple as the two indulge in a plethora of different cakes and icings. Hyunjin had managed to whip them all up in such a short amount of time, not once complaining about the pinch you put him in. At some point, though, you’ll have to tell him about the month until the wedding. You’re sure you’re going to hear some complaints then. 

Instead of Hyunjin being the face of the bakery today, it’s one of his employees, a short but bright boy by the name of Felix. He always wears glittery eyeshadow and a smile too big for his face, and it only adds to how endearing he is. You’d never met the human embodiment of cotton candy until Felix waltzed into the bakery on his first day of work. 

With Felix manning the register, Hyunjin is nowhere to be found. The only appearance he made was to hand-deliver the test cakes to Sana and her fiancé. He greeted them with a bright smile and many thanks for choosing his bakery. He only gave you a curt nod before disappearing behind the threshold of the kitchen. 

“The red velvet is to die for! Don’t you think, hun?”

Sana’s fiancé looks back at the woman as if she hung the stars, confessing his love for her and more with just one glance. Once again, you are reminded of what true love looks like. Once again, you feel jealousy brewing in the pit of your stomach. 

“It is. I love it with the cream cheese icing.”

Sana smiles. “I know you do. Cream cheese has always been your favorite. If only you could see that buttercream is superior.”

For a second, the couple just gaze at each other, basking in the vitality of a fresh engagement. You can tell that even though their romance was very spur of the moment, they will clearly last for a long time. 

Your chest hurts. 

“I think we’ll go with the red velvet and cream cheese icing.”

You’re quick to put on a smile. “Perfect! I’ll go let Hyunjin know, and then later we can make an appointment to figure out the design and aesthetics of the cake.”

“Sounds good.”

As you stand and approach the register, you can hear the couple begin to giggle to themselves, as if choosing a wedding cake flavor is the epitome of cloud nine. You suppose it might be. You wouldn’t know

Felix greets you with a smile when you arrive at the register, the corners of his eyes scrunching cutely. “How did it go?”

You can’t help but return the smile. “Good! They decided pretty quickly. Where’s Hyunjin, so I can let him know?”

“In the kitchen,” Felix points behind his shoulder with a thumb. “You can just head back there.”

“Thanks, Felix.”

You expect the hardcore rap music that’s playing through the speakers in the kitchen. It’s muted enough so that the rest of the bakery can’t hear it, but loud enough that Hyunjin can get lost in it. It’s endearing, the way he mumbles the words under his breath while he pipes bright orange frosting onto a black fondant cake. It’s always around this time that he has to perfect his Halloween treats. 

You wait until he’s done piping his row before calling his attention softly. “Hyunjin? They decided.”

Hyunjin doesn’t look up. He just moves on to piping the next row while he says, “and what did they decide?”

“Red velvet with the cream cheese icing.”

“Okay. We’ll make the appointment for later in the week.”

Hyunjin’s tone carries an air of finality to it. It’s formal, cold, and all too detached. Although the two of you have never been that close, this distance is still new from you. Hyunjin has never stood in front of you and felt miles away. 

“Okay.”  And when he doesn’t respond, “I’ll be back later, okay? After closing.”

Hyunjin stills for a moment before continuing his piping job, the movement almost imperceptible. “Tiramisu or cannoli?”

A sticky sweet smile blooms on your face. “Cannoli.”

.        .        .

The shell of the cannoli crunches deliciously, breaking the silence between you and Hyunjin. It’s once again after closing, but gone is the aura of awkwardness the two of you had left behind the previous night. Hyunjin glances at you, a small smirk gracing his face. 

“Is it good?”

You roll your eyes. “You know it’s good.”

“Maybe I do.” Hyunjin shrugs cutely, his white apron shifting in the process. 

He looks more up-kept than usual. His long hair is tied half up by a navy blue ribbon that matches the oversized sweater he wears. He’s wearing his jewelry, all of his piercings filled with earrings, various chunky rings adorning his fingers. But when you look down, you notice he’s still wearing his trademark neon green crocs. 

“Nice shoes.”

Hyunjin looks down before realizing what you’re referring to. “Oh shut up. You know they’re the comfiest for baking.”

“Maybe I do.”

You savor the taste of the whipped cream and ricotta as it hits your tongue. Hyunjin looks content to watch you enjoy the dessert, folding his arms over his chest as he eyes you. He’s not the slightest bit insecure about his work, knowing that no matter what he makes, you’ll love. 

It reminds you all too much of the first time you met Hyunjin, packed together inside a way-too-crowded frat party. Changbin, a mutual friend had grabbed you by the hand and pulled you through the crowd, insisting that there was someone you had to meet. You spotted Hyunjin long before you could make your way over. 

Hyunjin had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze had been disinterested, but confident, knowing that his presence alone was a gift in and of itself. At the time, he didn’t know how right he was. 

“You know, I didn’t mean to insult you yesterday.”

The man’s comment has you finally looking up from your cannoli, the last bite standing frozen between your fingers. After swallowing down a mouthful of filling, you clear your throat, slowly lowering the pastry down to the plate. 

“It’s okay. I think I just overreacted a bit.”

Hyunjin nods, arms still crossed tightly over his chest. Light glints off of one of his silver rings. “Why is it such a sore topic? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Honestly?” You chuckle bitterly to yourself. “Honestly, I don’t know. I guess I just expected something by now. But here I am, 25 years old, having a stable career, and having not had a relationship over half a decade. I just feel like I’m behind, you know?”

Surprisingly, Hyunjin nods. “I do. I mean, I’ve never had a relationship.”

This is news. Hwang Hyunjin, the star culinary student slash campus heartthrob has never had a relationship. Never? Even the thought seems ridiculous. 

The confusion must be evident on your face, because Hyunjin chuckles. “I know, I know. It’s silly, isn’t it?”

“Not silly! Just...surprising…”

“Well, I guess so.”

You’re still attempting to process your thoughts, unable to stop a slew of questions from leaving your mouth. “Why not, though? Have you never considered it? Have you never had your eye on someone?”

At this, Hyunjin’s eyes grow sad. The confident light in them disappears like a wisp of cotton candy in the wind. His eyes swim with a salty-sweetness. 

“I’ve actually always had my eye on someone. Since college, actually.”

Instantly, it clicks. “Oh! They must have moved away, right? Everyone moved away after college except us, and I know how sucky that must be for you. Gosh, I didn’t even consider that.”

Hyunjin traps a bubblegum bottom lip between his teeth, seemingly mulling something over in his head. His arm tenses, only once, before releasing. Hyunjin uncrosses his arms, choosing to lean forward onto the countertop. 

“I don’t think they left.”

Your eyes light up at the same time your heart falls. It’s so easy to fake not being hurt by the information, just like it’s easy to fake not wanting Hyunjin. Just like it’s easy to say that sticking around after hours is for work and not personal agendas. Just like it’s easy to be his pseudo-best friend. 

“Then why don’t you go for it?”

Hyunjin chuckles sadly. “I’m not even on their radar. Not like that.”

For the first time tonight, you laugh. You laugh genuinely and boldly. You laugh loudly, until tears are pooling in the corners of your eyes. Hyunjin just looks at you as if you are crazy, overcome with a laughing fit in the middle of his closed bakery. But you can’t help it; it’s funny. 

“You’re literally Hwang Hyunjin. There’s no one who’s radar you aren’t on! And I mean no one.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “Then why don’t they ever go for it or flirt with me back? I keep waiting on them to indulge me, but they never do.”

“I think…” You take a deep breath in order to swallow back tears. “I think that maybe they dont know that you’re interested. You have to be bold and make the first move! I promise you no one would ever turn you down.”

Hyunjin sighs. “And you know this for sure?”

The smile that you plaster on is watery and obviously fake. However, it’s the best you can do in the dark chocolate ambience of the bakery. It echoes everything inside you at the moment—bittersweet. 

“Maybe I do.”

.        .        .

You don’t see Hyunjin again until a few days later.  Your schedule is packed with last minute rearrangements and irregular breaks as you make room for Sana’s wedding plans.  It’s hectic, stressful, and overall just a handful.

Your hands hurt from typing out various versions of wedding invitations.  Every venue in the city hates you for repeatedly calling and begging for availability on November 18th.  A few of your clients are pissed for having their appointments rescheduled, and an even smaller few are understanding.

The worst part of it all is that when Sana and her fiancé waltz into your office on a random Monday, they have the audacity to look cheerful.  Neither of them look the least bit stressed, and all the more in love, which angers you slightly.  You have to remind yourself that this is why you do this.  You have voluntarily become a stress ball for engaged couples.  You’re starting to regret that decision.

Sana blinks her pretty eyes at you sweetly, greeting you with a honey-dipped smile.  “How have things been going?”

You plaster on an equally sweet smile, composed of high fructose corn syrup instead of genuine sugar.  “It’s been going well.  Your cake appointment is scheduled for Thursday.  All that’s left is for you to pick an invitation format, your dress, and the venue.”

“That sounds great!  That’s nothing.”  The fiancé exclaims.

You grit your teeth.  “Yep, it should be smooth sailing from here.”

The couple leaves with various printed versions of wedding invitations that you paid extra to express print.  The minute the door closes behind the two, you sag into your chair.  Running your hands over your face, you let out a loud groan.  The best part about having an individual office is that no one is around to hear your mental breakdowns.

You spend a moment indulging in the secret stash of chocolates you keep in the top drawer of your desk, letting the rich bitterness melt on your tongue.  The taste is dangerous, and you remind yourself to hit the gym extra hard this week.

After a moment, your phone chimes with a message.  It’s a simple text from Hyunjin, asking you if you’re planning to visit the bakery later.  When you reply in the affirmative, he responds with a simple question.

Cheesecake or Torrone?

You smile and reply with the former.

.        .        .

The bakery is eerily silent when you arrive.  Although it’s normally quiet at this hour, you can usually hear the soft hum of Hyunjin’s music, or the sounds of dishes and pans being cleaned.  But this time, there’s nothing.

“Hyunjin?”  You call out, slightly confused at the ambience.

It’s silent for a moment, and then a voice sounds out.  “In the kitchen!”

You follow the familiar path back to the kitchen, surprised at the dimness of the lights and the lack of sound.  When you enter the kitchen, though, it makes both more and less sense at the same time.  Hyunjin has various candles littered around the countertops, illuminating the kitchen in a soft orange glow.

Hyunjin himself stands in the corner of the kitchen, changed out of his work attire.  He’s wearing a neat button up shirt, untucked over black jeans.  The look is completed with his black dress shoes and various jewelry.  At his lack of bright green crocs, you’re taken aback.

At the center of the kitchen, poised atop what is usually used as a workbench for kneading bread, is a perfect cheesecake resting on a cake stand.  The cake’s tan surface is tainted with tracks of a red reduction that has been placed gently on the center of the cheesecake.  At second glance, you determine it to be raspberry.  Your favorite.

“What is all this?”

A small smile graces Hyunjin’s face.  “Well you told me to ‘be bold and make the first move.’  I don’t know what could be a bolder move than candles and raspberry cheesecake.”

A thousand thoughts run through your mind at the revelation.  First move?  Being bold?  It’s you?  Through your jumble of thoughts and emotions, you manage out a small, “so it is raspberry?”

“I’m standing here confessing, and you’re asking about the cheesecake?”  Hyunjin laughs. “Yes, it’s raspberry.  I knew that was your favorite so…”

“So it's me?  I don’t understand.”

Hyunjin finally moves from his position in the corner, crossing the large kitchen easily.  “Well, I hoped we could talk about it over cake.”  The man motions towards the stools around the workbench.

You just nod, taking a seat on one of the stools.  You struggle to keep up with the situation, still wrapping your head around it.  Hyunjin makes his way over, a smile still poised on his face.  You bite your lip as he rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt.  You find yourself biting harder as you watch the flex of his forearms when he cuts the cake.  The piece he deposits in front of you is picturesque, something straight out of a food and wine magazine.

When Hyunjin sits across from you, you take in the way the candlelight hits him, perfectly illuminating his features.  His lips are plush and pink, blonde hair falling down onto his shoulders.  There’s something glimmering in his eyes, a conflicted wetness that borders between hopeful and disappointed.

“So?”  You start.

Hyunjin just shakes his head.  “Take a bite first.”

“Hyunjin, I know what your cheesecake tastes like.”

“I don’t care.  I’m not talking until you take a bite.”

Stubbornly, you pick up your fork and shovel a bite into your mouth.  You’re about to immediately retaliate and open your mouth again, but the pleasant assault of flavor on your taste buds leaves you immobilized.  Your eyes widen in shock, causing Hyunjin to chuckle cutely.

“It’s good, right?  I added an extra hint of cinnamon spice in order to give the crust that extra umph.”

You practically moan around your bite of food.  “Hwang Hyunjin I could marry you right--”

Hyunjin laughs again, this time appreciating the way you cut yourself off before he had to.  He shifts in his seat, taking a bite of his own cheesecake before pushing a strand of hair out of his face.  He savors his bite, chewing slowly and swallowing completely before opening his mouth again.

“I know this may be sudden,” he begins.  “And I know we’ve never been that close.  But I like you, Y/N.  I have since college.  And I don’t want to be too presumptuous, but I have a feeling that you may like me too.”

You nod slowly, trying to ignore the heat that rises to the apples of your cheeks.  “Maybe I do.”

Once again, Hyunjin laughs.  “Well I guess a ‘maybe’ is as good as I’m going to get from you.”

“No, I mean,”  you clear your throat.  “I like you, too.  Not maybe.  I do.”

Hyunjin’s smile is bright, soft around the edges as the shadows of the candle flames dance around his face.  He’s gorgeous, all rounded cheeks and bleach blonde hair, squinty eyes and the faintest of dimples.  

“I’m glad.”

You sigh.  “This whole time I wondered why we were always on the border of friendship.  We were close, but not that close.  It felt weird to be your friend but also felt weird to not be.  I guess that should have been a sign, huh?”

“I’ve always been bad at reading signals.”

“Me too.”

The smile you two share is warm and sweet, filled with the kind of rich sweetness that only comes with something fresh and purified.  It’s not the synthetic sugar that makes candy, nor the citrusy sweetness of fruit.  The sugar you share is rich, deep, with a slight tang.  It’s reminiscent of the crust of the cheesecake, a mellow combination of brown sugar and cinnamon spice.

.        .        .

Sana’s wedding is just as grand as she wanted it to be.  The venue is decked out in flashes of burgundy silk and red roses, complimenting the warm brown of Sana’s hair.  Her dress is adorned with Swarovski crystals and delicate stitching, allowing her to sparkle all throughout the ceremony.  Eventually vows are read, and the couple is officiated, and you hold Hyunjin’s hand when he sheds a few tears.

The reception is equally as flashy, various celebrity couples trying to outdo each other with their outfits and lavish gifts for the newlywed couple.  They take up all of the space in the room and on the dance floor, their fame-inflated egos making the venue feel much smaller than it actually is.

The couple cuts into the cake with cheers in the background.  Hyunjin cringes as they smash pieces of cake in each others’ faces, complaining about the waste of frosting and “immaculately made cake.”  It takes two kisses and holding his hand for 5 minutes straight to placate him.

After cheers and various upbeat songs, the DJ finally slows down the pace.  Various couples get up and slow dance together, swaying to the melody of the soft ballads.  Even though its far from the vibes of Hyunjin’s favorite rap songs, he offers a hand out, and leads you happily to the dance floor. 

The two of you find a small, unoccupied space on the dance floor, instantly falling into each other.  You wrap your arms tightly around Hyunjin’s shoulders, revelling in the feeling of his warm hands around your waist.  The two of you sway together, holding each other too close.  You can feel the steady thump of Hyunjin’s heart under your head, each beat lining up with the slow pumps of yours.

The spectacularly sweet scent that always clings to Hyunjin as a result of his time in the bakery is ever-present, and you find yourself inhaling it reverently.  You allow your eyes to close, getting lost in the song.  And if you think hard enough, you can picture it being your own wedding.

You can picture you and Hyunjin at the altar, a few years in the future.  You would hold each other’s hands tightly, fighting hard to hold back tears.  Hyunjin would of course let a few fall, and you would laugh.  And when the minister asks if you take Hwang Hyunjin to be your lawfully wedded husband, you would smile and respond:

“Maybe I do.”

[chuckbass-love]

Could you do a fic where Steve or Chris falls in love with an exotic dancer? ❤️

Hi, i hope i’ve done a good job with this. I’ve done it as Steve and i hope you love it

Dirty Dancer

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to whoever made this gif, if anyone knows who made it pls let me know so I can give credit. I genuinely just search gifs up on google and I never manage to find out where the original gif is from bc of so many people re posting gifs. I never wanna give credit to the wrong person! So if this gif is yours or if it’s someone you know then let me know and I’ll credit them. Thank you💗

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Warning: Fluff, light smut, explicit language (sorta)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Dancer!Reader

Summary: It’s Steve’s first time at the strip club and your first week as a stripper...

You never thought it would come to this, stripping for money and yet here you are, your first week in your new job. It paid well and you need the money for school. You’ve always had a talent for dancing so why not put it to good use. 

You were already racking up some regulars that were quickly becoming obsessed with you and the way your body moved up and down the pole, you were informed by the other girls that having regulars come to you within just one week of being here was rare. You must really be good. 

It was the last night of your first week here and although at first you felt a sense of shame for doing this, it soon faded when you got the hang of things. Plus the money was insane. 

As soon as you get to the dressing room to change into your clothes your boss approaches you. Telling you that you’re working the private dance rooms tonight, which means you’ll have to do the rounds on the floor to see if anyone wants one. You didn’t hate this but you didn’t love it either. Money is money. 

“Someone’s looking sexy” a familiar voice calls out to you as you check yourself out in the mirror, you turn around to see your colleague Jessica in the doorway. 

“Well i mean, this is average but you... Dam” she giggles as she walks over to you to help you put your heels on. 

Once you’re ready you head out onto the club floor, it’s packed in here. Time to work your magic.

As you strut around, flashing a couple of winks to some of the randy men, you spot a group entering the club. 3 guys. All 3 of them are fine as hell but there’s a rule here. You have to let them get a drink and sit down first before you approach them, if they come to you first then it’s fine. 

“Sam, i don’t even know why you brought me here” the tall blonde one chuckles as he looks around the room whilst leaning on the bar, his eyes flicker over to you, meeting your gaze. You look away instantly and strut off. 

Steve had never been to a strip club before neither had Bucky and Sam was determined to teach the two of them a thing or two. They get their drinks and find a seat. Right by the stage. You spot them all joking around but your attention is mainly on the tall blonde, he’s your type. You don’t stand a chance though after all, you’re just a dancer and he’s a regular guy.

“Excuse me” a voice calls out, breaking you from your daydream to see if it was calling to you, he was. You approach the group of guys with a friendly smile.

“Do you do private dances?” you nod in response to his question and he nudges the blonde. 

“Sorry, i don’t mean to be rude, i’m Sam, this is Bucky and Steve. Steve here would love a private dance” his name is even cuter. Steve.

You grin as you hold your hand out for him to take it, Sam pushes him up and out of his seat, handing him some money. His hand grips onto yours and you lead him to the back room, locking the door to signal it being engaged. 

He takes his jacket off, taking a seat down onto the chair in a huff. You can’t help but notice that he seems off. 

“Is everything okay?” you ask nervously “I’m fine, honestly i am” you shrug it off as you remove your cover up, your low cleavage purple dress catches his eye.

You strut over to him, the music playing quietly in the background. Your back faces him as your hips start to grind in a circle, your ass brushing over his crotch, you feel him start to get hard. 

He rests his hands on your waist, stopping you mid dance. 

“Okay what’s up?” you stand up, sighing. “Nothing it’s just, do you mind if i ask you something?” you sit down next to him, motioning for him to go ahead.

“Why do you do this and doesn’t your boyfriend hate it?” you look down at your hands before bringing them back up to his blue eyes. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend and i dunno, i love to dance and i need the money for school” you shrug and he rests a hand over yours.

“Shall i continue now or not?” you really liked him, he was attractive and very obviously not the douche bag type. You respected that about him. He nods and you go back to your previous position before turning around to straddle his lap.

You take his hands and rest them onto your ass whilst you continue to grind your crotch on his, teasing him further. 

Minutes later, the time is up. He grabs his jacket from the table and you place your cover up over your shoulders. You both exit and he returns to his table with his boys. They lean in closer to ask him if it was good and he grins at them. 

The rest of the night consists of private dances to all the major dick heads in the club, some try to get a little too handsy, leading you to snap at them. You have to make sure they know their place. 

It’s now 2am and your shift is over, you head back to the locker room, changing out of your stripping attire and back into your high waisted denim shorts and jumper. 

You slip on your converse and collect your money on your way out. As you walk out onto the streets, the cold hair hits you like wave. It feels good, you flick your hair out of your face and start to walk to find a cab. 

“Hello again” you jump out your skin, turning around to see him. Steve. He’s leant against the wall outside the club, his mates are nowhere to be seen.

“Hi, your mates left you?” he looks around as he walks closer. “Sure does seem that way, they left with some girls” you continue to walk and talk with him.

“So is this what you normally look like when you’re not stripping” you can hear his nerves in his voice.

“Pretty much, not exactly sexy bu-” 

“Oh i beg to differ” you freeze in your spot

“If you’re looking for a hookup, i don’t do that okay? i just want to go home” you don’t mean for it to come out as snappy as it does but you can see he’s not at all fazed by your random outburst.

“I’m not after a hookup, just company i guess. I don’t really wanna be alone again tonight and besides i like you” he what?

You can’t believe your ears, he likes you. But why? You’re a stripper, you just snapped at him and you’re probably not even his type.

“Yeah right. You don’t even know me” you laugh, continuing to walk with him

“No seriously, like i know we only met tonight but i think you’re great” you both come to a halt as you stand near a cab. 

“Look, come back to my place? no funny business or whatever you want. I just want to get to know you better” it’s too tempting to pass up. You reluctantly agree, getting into the cab with him.

You soon arrive at his place, it’s a nice but small apartment and it suits him, very chilled decor. A double bed in the room with Egyptian cotton sheets. You sit down on the edge of the bed, removing your shoes. 

“So, how did-” you cut him off

“No no, if you want to get to know me more, at least let me ask stuff too” he holds his hands up in surrender, signalling for you to go ahead. 

“So, Steve. What do you do?” he tenses up a little at the question

“I can’t really answer that” but why not? “Okay then, what’s your last name?” he smirks “Rogers”

“Steve Rogers, i recognise that name. Wait, aren’t you Captain America?” everyone went on a hype a year ago, The Avengers was all anyone spoke about. 

“Indeed” he joins you on the edge of the bed 

“So i gave Captain America a lap dance earlier. Wow. Guess i can tick that off the old bucket list” you both break into laughter at your joke.

“How old are you?” 

“I’m 21″ he seems shocked. 

“I’d have guessed 25 but not because you look old. You don’t look ol-” 

You can’t hold it any longer, he looks so good. You press your lips to his in a sudden kiss.

Once you pull away he sits there in a state of shock.

“You really don’t know a thing about women do you Rogers?” your little giggle comes out and he shakes his head in admission to your question. He seems so innocent. It’s obvious that he’s a virgin. 

His body language screams it. 

“I’m exhausted” you stand up from the bed “maybe i should go home, i know-”

“Stay, there’s enough room for the two of us in my bed and it’s a little late to be travelling home alone” he wasn’t wrong. He stands up too, taking a white shirt from his drawer, throwing it over to you. 

“Wear this” you smile, walking into the bathroom to change and get ready for bed. You walk out to find him, in nothing but his boxers. He’s ripped, his body looks like it was sculpted by gods. You quickly look away and shuffle past him nervously, making your way to the bed. 

He finishes up in the bathroom then steps out of his room to lock up.

You both get into bed and adjust the pillows to how you like them.

You lay there, facing each other talking for a while until you feel yourself getting sleepier.

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

The sunlight flashes through the blinds, instantly waking you up. You rub your eyes as you look at Steve next to you. He looks so peaceful. You quietly get out of bed and head into the living room to find your bag, you check your phone to see it’s 7:00am. You should probably go, you collect your things and shove your shorts on with his shirt too. It’s too comfortable to take off and you figure he won’t miss it. 

You unlock the door and make your way out, hailing a cab to get you back home.

Steve reaches his hand to the other side of the bed, only to discover that you’re not there. He sits up, looking around the room. 

He searches around the small apartment, you’re nowhere to be seen. 

Great, you walked out. 

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

You arrive at work again, it’s your third week here now. You were really getting good with your moves and the money is flooding in. 

It’s only a short one tonight, a dance on the stage and a couple of private dances. As you take your money from your stage slot and walk into the locker room, Jessica is waiting for you. You shove the money into your bag.

“There’s some dude out there asking for you” you turn to face her “wait what?” 

“Yeah, tall blonde, very hot” It’s him again.

He’s made a couple of visits to the club since you walked out on him that morning, before he woke up. 

Each time he comes in, he asks for you. You’ve gotten to know him a bit and you’re starting to like him but the thought of him settling for you when he could have a woman who was more together was horrible. You didn’t feel good enough for his attention.

“You again” you call out and his face lights up.

“Me again. Look can we talk?” you roll your eyes and lead him to the private dance room.

“You can’t keep coming here just to talk Steve. I gave you my number for that” he pulls you close to him, taking you by surprise. 

“Let me take you out on a date” your eyes widen at his offer. 

“Please” you wrap your arms around his neck loosely and his hands fall to your waist. 

“Fine, you can take me out” he smiles down at you and you walk away from him. 

“How about tomorrow?” you agree, winking at him before exiting.

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

It was time for your date with Steve, you decide on wearing a little black dress with some matching black heels. You strut up to him as he’s leaning on his motorcycle, greeting him with a hug, he presses a kiss to your cheek as he hands you the spare helmet. You get onto the bike, making sure to grip onto him real tight during the ride to the location.

The bike comes to a halt and he parks up at the side of the road. You look around, taking your helmet off to discover that you’re outside of a restaurant. Italian to be exact. He rests his hand on the small of your back and you both walk in. He’s wearing black pants, a white shirt and a jacket, smart-casual dress sense. Not too formal.

Once the waiter seats the two of you, you speak up.

“How come you wanted to take me out?” you rest your head in your hands, giving full eye contact. 

“You’re attractive and funny and like i’ve stated plenty of times i just want to know more” he sure knows the lines.

“I like you but why do i get the impression that you struggle to believe that? That someone could actually want you” 

“Because i’m not the girl worthy of being treated like this”

“Why not? Because you work at that club? You said yourself, it’s for school”

“You deserve a lot better than a girl like me okay” he shakes his head as your drinks arrive. You take one sip and look around. This place is fancy. Too fancy for you. You stand up from the table.

“I gotta go, this was a mistake” you storm out, he follows closely behind.

“Y/N WAIT” he runs over to you, you stay still as he stands in your way.

“Steve, i think you have the wrong girl here. I’m not your ty-” he crashes his lips to yours.

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you moan slightly making way for his tongue to enter your mouth.

“Stop with the ‘i’m not good enough’ routine. I’m a grown ass man and i can decide who i want to date”

You feel the tears brimming. You’ve never really felt worthy of love and now a guy who is quite literally perfect is telling you he wants to date you.

“I see this going somewhere but it can only go somewhere if you let it. If you truly don’t want to then i’ll leave you alone, i’ll stop bugging you but if you want to give it a shot then i’ll be thrilled” 

You look up at him, his blue eyes meeting yours, making you melt. He’s so attractive and sweet.

A silence falls upon the two of you whilst he awaits your decision.

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

That was a couple months back. You still work at the club to help with school fees and supplies but you don’t work as often.

“Steve stop” you squeal as your boyfriend tickles you, leaving you with no option but to squeal and writhe around. 

“Okay okay” he holds his hands up in surrender.

“How about this instead. Do you like this more huh?” he leans down, taking your sweet spot into his mouth, sucking and biting at it. 

You let out a breathy moan, letting his hands roam your body.

“Those men might get a small part of you, but i get all of you” he peppers kisses down to your sex until his face is inches away from your clit. His mouth attacks you, sucking and licking your folds. 

“As sweet as ever” 

“Please Steve, just fuck me already” you whine and he chuckles, it vibrates on your clit.

“Of course my lady” he rests his tip at your entrance, soaking it in your arousal before pushing in slowly.

“Fuck, just like that” he flips you over so you’re straddling him.

“Ride me” he instructs, you do as you’re told. 

The slow movements on his length have him turning into a moaning shambles. You know he won’t last long with you doing him like this. But you don’t care.

“Make yourself cum baby” you pick up the speed, bouncing up and down rapidly, chasing your high and pushing for him to reach his. 

You’ve been teasing each other all day. You’d bend over on purpose in front of him, extracting a grunt from his mouth in the process. He’d adjust his size in his jeans in front of you, making sure you saw it every time. 

“Cum on my dick baby girl, come on” his words send you over into your high. Your pussy pulsates at the feeling whilst you milk him for everything. 

You feel him spill into you, filling you up just the way you like.

“I’ll never grow tired of that” his chest heaves 

“Me neither”

“I love you Y/N” you stare down at him, happy tears brim in your eyes at his words.

“What?” you know what he said but you just want to hear it again.

“I’ll admit, you had me wrapped around your finger the second we locked eyes for the first time. It’s clear you’d spent so many years doubting yourself and not believing anyone when they slipped you even the smallest of compliments but i meant every one i gave you and i mean it now when i say i love you”

“Steve, i love you too” 

[girlsbtrs]

Women in Hardcore Part 2: Lexi Reyngoudt

Written by Jennifer Moglia. Graphic by Moira Ashley. 

Welcome back to the second installment of this new series on Girls Behind The Rock Show, consisting of interviews with women and gender-diverse people in the world of hardcore and punk music. We’re hoping that these conversations will shine a spotlight on some of the most inspirational, powerful non-male people in the genre today, and show our readers that music has no gender, regardless of the genre - if you want to be involved in hardcore, you can be involved in hardcore, and your gender identity should never stop you from doing so. 

This part of our series is an interview with Lexi Reyngoudt of SPACED, a brand new hardcore band from New York. Their first demo came out this summer, and the love they’ve received for it has been genuinely inspiring. 

I got to chat with them about how their involvement in the genre started, what being in the band has been like so far, and what the future holds for her. In a time where so many conversations can be exhausting, chatting with Reyngoudt really recharged my mental batteries, so to speak, and got me excited about hardcore again.

Jennifer Moglia: Thanks so much for taking the time to do this! Could you introduce yourself to our readers?

Lexi Reyngoudt: My name is Lexi Reyngoudt! I am 25 years old and I grew up in a small town called Holley in western New York. My pronouns are she/they.

JM: How did you start listening to hardcore? Do you remember what first got you hooked?

LR: I began listening to hardcore in 2016 and I started out listening to mostly Every Time I Die. I didn't get super hooked on the genre until the first time I listened to the album “Laugh Tracks” by Knocked Loose. That record is what really got me into hardcore and helped me discover more bands.

JM: What is it about hardcore that made you love it and want to be a part of it? Do you still feel that way about the music and the community now?

LR: I attended my first hardcore show at the Waiting Room in Buffalo to see Every Time I Die play one of their Christmas shows. This was my first experience with hardcore and I began to listen to more bands afterward. 

I didn't fall in love with the scene until 2019 when I went to see Have Heart play one of their reunion shows outside at the Worcester Palladium. It was so cool to see so many people come together for one band and I was able to discover so many cool bands that day! 

I've grown to love the hardcore community even more now, especially with how well-received SPACED's first demo has been.

JM: How did you get to be involved in hardcore, particularly joining SPACED?

LR: Our guitarist Donny was also my tattoo artist and every time I would get tattooed by him we would end up talking about music. After the Have Heart show, I was getting tattooed by him and told him about how I wanted to get more involved with Buffalo hardcore but wasn't really sure where to start.

He mentioned that I should start a band, to which I said I didn't think I had what it took to be in a band since I don't play an instrument. At my next appointment with him, we started to tiptoe around the idea of starting a band together and getting our friends involved too. Next thing you know, he and the other guys in the band were laying down instrumentals and we were writing lyrics for the demo!

JM: Do you think that the genre of hardcore as a whole could or should have more representation for women and gender-diverse people? Is there anything you think could make the genre a better place for you or for others?

LR: Absolutely! I've met some really welcoming people in the hardcore scene, but there are unfortunately a lot of people still who don't want to make it more inclusive. One of the main reasons SPACED became a thing was to get more representation and diversity in hardcore. 

I try my best to discover bands with people of color and non-men in them because those bands need as much hype as possible. It's hard being a non-white male trying to put yourself out there and making a band because it's so intimidating. 

I think if we encouraged inclusivity and welcomed more people into the scene it would help immensely.

JM: What helps you feel welcomed as a woman/gender-diverse person in the world of hardcore? 

LR: I'm lucky enough to be surrounded by people who encourage making the scene more diverse. The guys in the band are so supportive of me and want more non-men and POC to be welcomed into the scene as much as possible. 

Like I said before, it's scary putting yourself out there like I did when joining SPACED. This is my first band and I have no prior experience, but when we went into the studio for the first time and I got into the vocal booth, the guys did nothing but praise me and hype me up to make sure I was as confident as possible! I'm so thankful to be in a band with guys who I can trust; all it takes is for more men to be like this to help make the scene more inclusive.

JM: What would you say to a young girl/gender-diverse person who wants to get more involved in hardcore but might feel intimidated or nervous?

LR: I would, first of all, give them my number and tell them if there was any hardcore show they wanted to go to, but were too scared to go to alone that they could always ask me to come with them! Going to shows can be scary, especially if it's in a scene you aren't familiar with! 

Making friends who want to go to those shows with you is the best thing you can do for yourself because it can ensure that you will have a good time. Who knows, maybe your friend who doesn't listen to hardcore would fall in love with it if you brought them to a show!

JM: A lot of times I feel as if women/gender-diverse people in hardcore are seen as just that, a non-man in the genre, and nothing else. What else are you passionate about?

LR: I went back to school during the pandemic to get my degree in English education so I can become a high school English teacher. I've really grown passionate about education and making it better for students in the future. 

As far as hobbies, I actually really love anime and K-pop! When it comes to anime I love collecting manga and have been working on getting some cosplays together for when I feel safe enough to go to conventions again. 

As for K-pop, that was something I really dove into at the beginning of the COVID-19 quarantine. I love discovering new groups and collecting albums. I also make and sell jewelry when I have free time.

JM: Congrats on the release of the demo with SPACED! What has the response been like so far? What's your personal favorite song on the demo, and why? What was playing your first show like? Feel free to include anything else about the band here, I really dig the tracks and am excited to see what's next for y'all!

LR: Thank you!! The response has honestly been kind of overwhelming, but so cool. This is my first band so having this many people be interested in something I'm doing is such a crazy feeling. 

My favorite song on the demo is “THINK I AM.” I love the message that it has about how you shouldn't have to listen to what people say or tell you to do. I'm big on being my most genuine version of myself because what's the use in hiding who you really are? 

Our first show was so much fun. We played in this weird abandoned parking lot and I saw a lot of my friends who aren't even that into hardcore come out to support the band. Honestly, I can't remember much of the set, but I do remember how much fun I was having up in front of everyone!

JM: Thank you so much again for chatting with me! What's next for you and the band? Is there anything else you want to say?

LR: Right now we're working on some new songs and plan on getting back into the studio as soon as possible. We have a few shows coming up; we're playing with Gag in Cleveland on October 30th and with DARE and Life's Question in Wilkes Barre on November 8th! We're looking forward to getting some new tunes out and being able to travel and play to as many people as we can!

Once again, huge thanks to Lexi and to SPACED for doing this interview and for their amazing music and uplifting presence. You can find them on Instagram @SPACED_HC and Twitter @SPACEDHC. Keep your eyes peeled for the next interview in this series, coming soon!

[jaehyunsuh]

back 2 u (am 01:27); jaehyun // part 2

part 1

"Whenever you need me

stop looking for me, however you want,

there's no room for you anymore,

this is already over."

series: songs for you🌃

REQUESTS ARE: OPEN

author's note: this was written from jaehyun's pov so it would be more interesting that way. I want to try different feelings and pov's with this series so i hope you like it ♡

—pairing: jaehyun x reader

—genre: au/ office! au ??/ friends to lovers/ fluff

—words count: 1.9k

summary: 2 months ago has passed since Jaehyun ended his relationship with his now ex girlfriend, Jessica . He really loved her a lot and even thought she was the girl that was gonna marry him and be together for a long time, but he was disappointed one more time. Jessica was a really nice girlfriend for some time, but after 2 years of relationship she changed. Jaehyun was so in love that thought it was romantic at first, but after many discussions and bad nights he found out it wasn't good for him and decided to end it, now she is begging to him to love her back but Jaehyun needs to find his own way... will he go back to her? Or will he move on and find someone else?

since the day Jessica told Jaehyun he was cheating on him he started to feel really hurt. Yes, he wanted to get out of that toxic relationship but he was still thinking about all the time she played with him and took advantage of him. The last phrase she said kept repeating in his head the countless nights he cried himself to sleep. He felt sad for her, Jessica seemed like such a nice and genuine girl that would love him no matter what, but at the end the money and status was more important.

also he felt sad for himself, what was wrong with him? Isn't he good enough? Is he not worth it? Is he just a pretty face? Those were the thoughts that consumed him every single night and day, making him disappointed, hopeless and lonely.

he was now free from that toxic relationship but things didn't end up being as happy as he thought, he felt empty and insecure about himself. He really needed someone that could truly love him and tell him everything was gonna be okay. 

he now could go out with his friends but it wasn't how he imagined in the past. The few times they went out he would just drink until he was completely wasted and even cried a couple time. His friends tried to help him and make him feel better, but it wasn't enough, he needed something or someone that could bring a new energy and vibe to his life.

Jaehyun enters his office and places his jacket on the back of his chair. He doesn't know how has he been able to work and give good results on the recent months, he has been so distracted and upset that he doesn't even wants to get up of bed and go to work, but he does it anyway, gathering all of the energy he can. He starts working on his computer when he hears the door knock.

"Come in." He rolls his eyes, he really doesn't want to see anyone for the rest of the decade but he was to keep a nice attitude.

"Good morning Mr. Jung." Jaemin, one of the secretaries in the company, greets him with his characteristic wide smile. 'Does he never feels sad?' Jaehyun says to himself.

"Good morning Jaemin, how have you been?" Jaehyun smiles nicely, he can't be rude even if he tries his best.

"Great! Thanks for asking. Y/n come in!" A cute girl wearing a white buttons shirt, black pants that made her body look great and nice high heels. Jaehyun starts to feel sweat and feel a little flustered? Why is he being like this? He doesn't knows this girl.

"Mr. Jung, this is y/n your new assistant." She extends her hand to Jaehyun and he still startled but proceeds to shake her hand.

"Nice to meet you, Sir." She smiles.

"Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Y/n." He is surprised by how nervous his voice sound and he feels lime y/n and Jaemin can see his sweat.

"Y/n is on her last year of marketing and she came here to experiment the whole environment of business." Jaemin explains excited.

"Well, i will leave you alone now, if you need anything just let me know." Jaemin smiles and walks out the door.

"Well, y/n welcome to the company! Everyone here is really nice and the pay is good!" The both laugh.

"It's cool that you wanted to be familiarized with part of your career, i will try to make your work easy as possible, i promise."

"Thank you Sir. I will work really hard and learn a lot from you." She gives a nice smile and Jaehyun feels how his heart starts beating faster.

"Oh, you don't have to call me sir! You can call me Jaehyun." He says unconsciously being flirtly.

"But in front of the big bosses just call me Mr. Jung. I'm not a sir, how old are you?" He asks confused.

"I'm 25."

"It's totally okay then, you are just two years younger than me." They both laugh and give love eyes to each other.

the past few weeks with y/n were great. Jaehyun wasn't what was happening but since had such a nice vibe he felt comfortable and happy whenever she was around. She was a really good worker as well, he made Jaehyun manage his time and schedule even better and helped him in tons of stuff and she did a great job. 

He felt weird that since he met her, now he feels so motivated when he wakes up at 6am to go to work, and even on the days he has to stay late in the office, he isn't bothered anymore since he has such an a amazing company. He was starting to feel a lot better now, but he was afraid to get closer to y/n and open up to her since all of the previous situations. He really wanted to ask her out and take her on a date, get to know her better, but also, what if she thinks weird of him? What if she doesn't feels the same? At this point not even Jaehyun himself knows what's going on, but he likes it.

either way, there's tiny part of his heart that doesn't lets him, give an opportunity in love. He stills missed Jessica somehow, maybe not her, but all the past experiences and moments. Those couldn't get out his head and i was frustrating him so much, he was the one that decided it was the best to end that relationship but as soon as it happened he felt so lost that if Jessica came back saying sorry, as and idiot he would have forgive her. Thank god it didn't happen because he was going to make a fool out himself.            

after 2 months of a difficult heartbreak and having a hard time, it's 1:27am and Jaehyun hears his phone ringing. He always leaves his phone on, and since it's friday night he is watching a movie so he is awake. He grabs the phone confused thinking about who could be calling him so late at night. His heart starts beating faster, he suddenly feels a little nauseous, nervous, he even feels like he is sweating cold.

his eyes open in surprise finding out the person calling is Jessica. A part of him doesn't wants to pick up and just ignore it, but a tiny part of him feels so nostalgic and lost that just wants to pick up and say 'yes, let's go back together'. He takes a deep breath a proceeds to take the call, wishing this goes our well for him, not making him do any mistakes.

"He-hello?" A sobbing voice can be heard from the other side of the phone. Jaehyun gulps and decides to talk back.

"Hi, Jessica?."

"Jae, I'm so sorry for being such a b*tch with you. I really everything i did and how i made you feel all those years. I was such an idiot for letting you go and throwing this whole relationship away." She says while still crying, Jaehyun felt like something was off from thia sudden call. At beginning he was a little excited ?? About it, but now it all seems weird. Did Jessica really changed suddenly?

"I'm sorry, but why are you calling me this late?" He asks expecting not to hear what he thinks.

"Oh yeah, i'm sorry. I've been crying all night and didn't even realize what time is it. Well, basically, my now ex boyfriend broke up with me." Jaehyun rolls his eyes and sighs annoyed.

"Jessica, do you think I'm a joke? I've been the best boyfriend i can for the past years and now you just come back to me just because you are now alone."

"Jae, baby, it's not like that. I just realized you are the right one for me." Jaehyun interrupts her.

"Jessica, goodbye. I'm sorry, but i can't keep like this." He lays in his bed and places his hands in his head out of frustration.

for the past few weeks Jessica has been calling every night, even sending texts and everything. Every single night Jaehyun feels more miserable and confused. Did Jessica really change and he should give her an opportunity? Or will she break his heart one more time? Those were the thoughts that were going on in his head daily, until he was having dinner with his coworkers and saw Jessica being really flirty and touchy with another guy at the other side of the restaurant.

he stares at his ringing phone again and he just keeps playing with it in between his hands thinking it he should answer or not. After hesitating for a while he answers and hears the voice of his ex girlfriend on his ear.

"Jae."

"Jessica, stop it. Don't try to look like a victim, like you regret it all, i saw you a couple days ago on a date with a guy. Do you think i deserve this? What goes on with you that you want to keep playing with people's heart. I'm sorry but I'm not going back to you." He hangs up the phone before even letting her talk again and stares at the ceiling one more time trying to composed his confused mind.

he goes back to the office on friday, with no energy of showing a nice attitude to anyone and not wanting to see anyone either. He is sitting in his desk chair, when he sees the beautiful honey eyed girl entering the door, he feels how his whole body, mind and mood flips upside down and he can't help but laugh to himself.

maybe love wasn't that hard, he met y/n a moth ago and even if it seemed rushed, he felt already so happy whenever she was around. He spent many night confused between if he should give Jessica an opportunity or if he should ask y/n out. He felt dumb for even considering having something with Jessica once again when y/n just demonstrated to be the nicest girl ever.

"Jaehyun, are you feeling okay?" Y/n looks at him worried, trying to figure him out.

"Uhm, no, no. I mean yes! Why? What do you mean?" Y/n smiles at seeing her boss being so funny without wanting to. He laughs back when he realizes the beautiful smile he has in front of him.

"Nothing, you just looked a little bit down, that's it."

"No, don't worry it's nothing. I just didn't felt so good last night." He gives a warming smile and y/n nods.

everyday with y/n felt great, but today was a little bit different. He felt like a teenage that was flustered because his crush noticed him. When y/n asked if he was okay, he felt a whole zoo in his stomach. How could she be so perfect by doing so little stuff? After a few hours of just talking about work, Jaehyun suddenly felt like saying something to y/n.

"Y/n?" 

"Yes, Jaehyun?" 

"Why if you let me take you on a date and i tell you why was i feeling down?" Jaehyun bites his lower lip playfully but also feeling nervous to see if she was going to accept his proposal.

"Wow, Jaehyun, i don't even know what to say." She laughs and her cheeks start turning red, and Jaehyun finds it adorable.

"Yes, i would love to go on a date with you, so we can talk about a few more things as well." Y/n's mood suddenly turned a little bit flirty and teasing which definitely let Jaehyun be even more excited about tonight.      

[coffee-fueled-weeb-witch]

Write Your Witchcraft (#37)

All of the questions

1-4 answered  |  5-8 answered  |  9-12 answered  |  13-16 answered  |  17-20 answered  |  21-24 answered  |  25-28 answered  |  29-32 answered  |  33-36 answered 

37. Who do I honor (ex: deities, ancestors, myself, etc), and how do I, or would I like to, honor them?

At the moment I work with Athena, Hermes, Hades, Persephone, Apollo, Artemis, and recently also started working a bit with Ares and Hephaestus.  I’ve also had a little bit of experience, though not much, with Hestia and Dionysus thanks to one of my best and closest friends working with them.  Now, since there’s quite a few of them, I’ll start with what I do for all of them and then I’ll go into more specific things for each one.

In general I have a playlist for each of the gods I work with and then there’s two others- a playlist for Hades and Persephone together and one for Hermes, Apollo, and Dionysus together (If you guys are interested I could make a post with links to said playlists).  I’m also in a small coven on discord, consisting of me and my friends, and there I have a channel for each of them that I use as virtual alters.  Another thing I do is sit and work out a sigil for each individual god that I can use if I feel I am struggling to connect to them or to help dedicate something to them.  Now I’ll get into the individual things- which I tend to work most with Athena, Hermes, Hades, and Persephone, so I’ll probably be listing a bit more for them than the others right now.

Athena

I am always studying and trying to learn about a variety of new things and often dedicate my research and reading time to her.

When in stressful situations with conflicts brewing I try to remain calm and keep a level head, sometimes asking for her help with this as I try to think things through rationally and work on a solution.

Whenever my friends need help understanding something or finding information I do my best to teach and guide them, sharing whatever wisdom and knowledge of my own that I can and helping them find more because Athena encourages me to do so and like her I too enjoy sharing my knowledge.

I have a nice little amethyst gemstone that I dedicated to her and I always have it close by.

I do my best to protect others and have become fairly skilled in protection magick, and when I feel a situation calls for it I will ask for Athena’s protection or for her to help me be able to protect those I care for or am trying to help.

I have a small, white owl statue on my nightstand that used to belong to my grandmother.  Because of Athena’s connection to owls, I put it there for her- though it’s so old and fragile it’s literally slowly crumbling into a powdery dust, so I’ll need to replace it sometime sadly.

I also like to dedicate my crafting and jewelry making time to Athena.

Hermes

Since he is connected to Wednesdays and has a lot to do with languages, every Wednesday I spend at least an hour working on my Japanese and I often ask him to help me understand things I struggle with or remember certain things.  After I will usually watch anime that involves something he is associated with in some way or I think he may like himself.

I usually offer him some of morning coffee and thank him for helping me out with various things and even just being there.

When I’m getting over stressed and know I need to lighten up I take a step back and try to have more fun and remind myself that I don’t need to be serious all the time, that like Hermes I can just have fun.

On really low energy days for me I tend to binge watch vine and meme compilations on youtube and dedicate that to him.

Hermes encourages me to not be so embarrassed and afraid of being laughed at,  so I’ve been letting myself become more... well, myself.  If someone wants to call me cringey for being weird or chaotic, then they can.  I’m having fun and being myself and my boi Hermes is right there cheering me on, so fuck anyone who doesn’t like it!!  In other words, he helps me a lot with being less afraid to be myself and being comfortable acting like a deranged little crackhead goblin and just enjoying myself- so for him I like to just love myself and let go of worrying about what others think of me.

Hades

I love spending time researching death practices and beliefs over the years and in different cultures, so I dedicate that time to Hades.  I also put a lot of time into learning as much as I can about spirit work and death witchcraft which I’ve been getting more interested in since working with him.

When I find someone or see a friend who is struggling and seriously considering death to be their solution I try my best to help them.  I’ve personally lost someone to suicide and it’s something I don’t want anyone else to experience.  I’ve also had a few interaction with the spirit of the one who passed and spent a lot of time helping him work through the emotions he had and get to a point where he was more at peace and not hating himself for what he had done.  Since then I’ve also come to learn and understand that it genuinely saddens Hades and Persephone both to see how many young people end up cutting their own lives so short, so for me doing what I can to help those people is so important for so many reasons.

As I said I lost someone I loved dearly, so at times when that starts to weight on me or when my own depression’s getting to be a little hard to deal with I often turn to Hades for comfort and help in getting through it.  He is very much like a father figure to me, which I no longer have anything to do with my real dad, so it helps a lot to be able to turn to him for help and guidance when I’m struggling.

I like to leave him little offerings when I can and so far have found that he really enjoys the dark chocolate I give him.

I always make sure to thank him for helping me and also for watching over the souls of those who passed.  It makes him really happy and he appreciates it so much.

Persephone

A lot of the things I do for Hades I also do for Persephone, so I won’t repeat all of them again.

For years I’ve struggled with dealing with toxic people who had me convinced I could only be one thing, that I was the reserved and quiet friend, I was always mature, I didn’t goof off as much, I loved darker things and horror and thus could only love those things and behave in a certain way, but Persephone has been helping me understand that this is not true and I can express my softer, more goofy and childish nature.  I can be dark and spooky, but I can also be soft and sweet.  She is both a Goddess of Spring and Queen of the Underworld- if she can be these two opposite things, then so can I.  So similar to Hermes, I like to practice self-love and acceptance for Persephone.

I also like to give her small offerings when I can, which she seemed to really enjoy the marshmallow peep I gave her!  

This is one I also do for both Hades and Persephone, and because I know how difficult it can be- when I know someone who is grieving the loss of a loved one, I try my best to offer them comfort and just be there for them.

Apollo

I like to dedicate the time I spend drawing to him and when I’m experiencing a lot of artists block I’ll ask him to please help me overcome it or help me find some form of inspiration.

When I start to feel a bit sick I’ll often ask him for a little extra help in feeling better, alongside Artemis.

When my insomnia’s so bad that I’ve ended up staying awake all night I like to take a moment to just sit and listen to music while watching the sunrise.  Likewise, in the evenings when the sun is sinking and the light comes in the window I love to just close my eyes and relax as I let it wash over me and thank Apollo for the brightness and warmth, and for being there.

I often scream-sing along with songs that remind me of him.

I also remember reading that Apollo watches over the decomposing bodies of those who died and graveyards, so I like to thank him for that.

Artemis

I’ve always been a night owl and have always had a love for the moon and stars, so when I can I like to just sit and listen to music and the sounds of the night while looking at the dark sky as I think over the day and will sometimes just talk to Artemis and tell her how things are going and stuff like that.

Like I said before I sometimes ask her and Apollo for help if I’m starting to feel sick.

I actually found a really nice set on imvu for Artemis, so my friend helped me get the outfit for her.

Ares

I haven’t been working with Ares for very long yet, so so far there isn’t nearly as much for me to share.  So far, aside from making a playlist, sigil, and virtual altar for him, I’ve been trying to stand up for myself more and he has definitely been helping me to do this.  I may write a post actually talking about my most recent and strongest experience working with him.

I’ve also always tried my best to stand up for others (honestly better at it than I am standing up for myself), so now I also consider this another thing I can do for Ares and that I feel he greatly approves of.  

Hephaestus

Like Ares I haven’t been working with Hephaestus for very long, so I again don’t have much a whole lot to list yet.  Still, one thing I’ve been sort of dedicating to him is the time I’m spending learning how to wire wrap gemstones.  It’s not exactly the same as being a blacksmith, but still sort of involves working with metal and crafting and he’s enjoyed me sharing my progress with him and how hard I’m working to learn this new skill despite my disability making it a bit difficult for me.

I’ve also been trying to love myself more for Hephaestus when it comes to my disability.  I’ve grown up constantly being made to feel like an inconvenience, a burden, and a waste of time, but help from my friends, my boyfriend, and recently Hephaestus, I’ve gradually been working to overcome the negative thoughts and beliefs that were carved into me.

Well, that’s all I can think of typing for this one- I’ve normally been doing this write your witchcraft thing four questions at a time, but since it took me so long to fully answer this one question I decided to just do this one.  

[turtle-steverogers]

Not Guilty- 2

murder mystery’s back! im having too much fun with this story guys

Link to chap 1 in case you need it

warnings: albert being a human disaster, abuse of the word ‘milk’

ship: ralbert, platonic spalbert

word count: 1680

editing: lmaoooo no

Chap 2

When Albert gets to the precinct the next morning, he’s wary to find a wrapped parcel on his desk that looks suspiciously like a sandwich.  He pokes at it, frowning when he sees a singular smiley face drawn on the underside in black sharpie.

 “Hey, uh, Spot?” He calls, looking up when he hears his partner’s chair roll out from his desk and subsequently poke his head around the low wooden wall that separates their cubicles.

“Yes, honeycakes?” Spot’s expression is the face of innocence and Albert’s stomach churns.

“Did you-” He stumbles, gesturing to the presumed sandwich, “Is this for me?”

“It’s on your desk, isn’t it?” Spot smiles, rolling back into his cubicle.

Albert sighs, taking off his messenger bag and jacket and sitting heavily in his desk chair.  He cautiously unwraps the white paper to find a loaded meatball sub sitting in the middle of a napkin.  There’s a sticky note placed delicately on the fluffy white bread and Albert plucks it up, squinting at the words:

Sorry you didn’t finish your sandwich xoxo Spottie

He laughs probably too loud and sticks the sticky note on his desktop, right next to the note from Jack that reads: ‘I’m sorry for stealing your pants, I had brains on mine’ after Jack had taken his extra pair of slacks from his locker when his got spoiled at a crime scene.

He takes a bite of the sandwich, pleased to find that he can still stomach his favorite Gianno’s special after yesterday’s events.  As he chews, careful not to get any tomato sauce on his shirt, he plucks a sticky note from his own pad and scrawls out: Thanks, Pop Spotcket.  Love u, dear xoxo and tosses it over to Spot.

A moment later, Spot snorts indignantly, “‘Pop Spotcket’? Really? Does anyone actually use those anymore?  The only person I know who has one is my niece and she’s eleven.”

Albert rolls his chair so he’s in Spot’s cubicle, sandwich still in hand, “I have one, asshole.  They’re useful.  Anyway, thanks for the sandwich.  How’s it looking at Gianno’s?”

Spot sighs wearily, placing a stack of papers down and turning from his computer to look at Albert, “Eh.  They’re closed today.  I stopped by this morning to pick up some evidence left at the crime scene and one of the waiters asked if I wanted anything and I remembered that you didn’t get to finish your lunch yesterday so…”

“Thanks, man,” Albert says, mouth full.  Spot wrinkles his nose and tells him not to speak with food in his mouth.  Albert rolls his eyes, “Anyway, evidence?  What’s new?”

“Nothing really,” Spot says, “Just Wiesel’s receipt from his last meal.  Wasn’t really much on it, but it gave us a sure timestamp that lines up with our original record, so at least that’s set.”

“Good,” Albert shoves the last bit of sandwich into his mouth, licking his fingers.

“Yeah.  Saw our boy there, though.”

Albert raises his eyebrows, “Higgins?”

“Mhm.”

“How’s he?”

Spot shrugs, “Didn’t talk to him.  Kid looked like shit.  Well, more shitty than yesterday if that’s somehow possible.  Kept sending cute little glares my way, fucking ray of sunshine, that one.”

“Christ,” Albert grimaces, “I’m convinced he’s a player in this debacle somehow.  I mean, he seemed genuinely surprised when he found out the vic was Wiesel, but too many strings lead to connections on his end.”

“Yeah,” Spot agrees, “I dunno, I say we dig a little into Wiesel’s other relations as well.  I feel like there’s a gap here somewhere.”

“Toxicology came back,” Albert says after a pause.

Spot looks at him, eyebrows raised, “And?”

“Sarin poison in the blood.  Stab wounds were post-mortem.  Someone wanted this shit to look messier than it is.”

“Interesting.  I wonder who’d go through the trouble of poisoning, then following up with a physical attack.  ‘Specially in a public place.  S’kinda risky.”

“That’s what I was thinking, but whoever it was, clearly knew what they were doing.”

“Clearly…”

XXX

Albert never understood why there was such a wide variety of milks in the world.  And why, in this moment, he can’t find any simple fucking 2%.  

He scans over the selection again, bypassing the almond and oat milks and skimming over the fritzy lactose free shit.  There’s strawberry milk and chocolate milk on display and even horrifyingly enough, mint milk, but no fucking 2%.  It’s not even like this fucking bodega is big enough to warrant having so many milks. 

He just wants some damn normal person milk!

“Excuse me, detective.” 

Albert doesn’t startle.  He doesn’t.  He’s a trained law enforcement officer and detective.  People like him don’t fucking startle.  But, he is on high, professional alert when he turns around to see Antonio Fucking Higgins standing behind him, eyebrows raised in what’s probably amusement and hands shoved in his pockets.

Albert makes a strangled noise, eyes working on their own accord as they trail down Higgins’ body.  He’s sweaty, looking like he just came from some sort of workout, and a pair of tight adidas running pants hug his legs in all the right places.  He’s in a tank top today, somehow doing his arms more justice than the grey shirt he’d been wearing yesterday.  A hat sits backwards on his head, doing little to tame the curls that are trying to sneak out of the stupid hole where the strap meets the fabric.  He looks hot and it’s unfair and Albert’s never been ashamed of his sexuality, but right now he’s wishing that he could reign in his gay ass a little bit because aside from the fact that Higgins is a bit of a prick, he’s also a suspect and that’s, like, number one in the Book of Nope for cops of any kind.

Higgins is still looking at him, but now there’s a small crease of concern between his eyebrows, “You alright, man?” He asks, “You look kinda like you’re having a heart attack.  Do you have any chest pain?  Your left arm feel numb at all?”

Albert shakes himself, morphing his expression into something he hopes looks less like Gay Panic, “Yeah, sorry, I-” He splutters a bit, then shuts his mouth with a click.  

Higgins scoffs, “I just need milk, man, you mind?”

Albert starts, hastily stepping out from where he was definitely blocking the milk selection and watching as Race grabs a carton of-- fucking 2%.  How did he find it so fast?  How did Albert not see it?  He’s supposed to be the one trained to look for details others don’t see!

Trying not to flush, Albert reaches out and grabs a carton as well and Higgins looks at him again, laughing, “You were standing here for a long time, dude, I thought you were gonna murder the milk for a second.”

“Couldn’t find the 2%.” Albert mumbles, blushing harder when Higgins laughs louder.

“Real good reconnaissance there, detective.”

When Higgins is laughing, his face changes into something a whole lot more pleasant.  Not that it was ever unpleasant (the dude’s got a jawline of a god), but some of the hardness in his eyes and shadows on his face go away and for just a second, he looks like the 25 year old he’s supposed to be.  It’s nice, Albert thinks, ignoring the way alarm bells are going off in his head.

“Shut up, Higgins, I’m tired.  Some of us have to read about murders all day, so excuse me if my milk finding skills aren’t the most refined.”

Higgins’ face softens and the smile in his eyes turns into something else that Albert doesn’t want to dissect, “Race.”

“What?”

“Higgins is my dad, not me.  And I don’t like the name Antonio very much, so if we’re gonna be talking more, be it over murder or milk, call me Race.”

“Race?”

Higgins--Race--winks, “That’s a story for level five amici.”

“Oh, okay.”

They pause for a moment and even though Albert’s not drunk, his inhibitions seem to flutter away from him against his will as he blurts out, “Drinks sometime? Would- uh- would you wanna get drinks sometime?”

And fuck-fuck- SHIT- what are you doing Dasilva? What the fuck?

Race considers him for a moment, “Not that I wouldn’t hit that,” he nods to Albert’s body and Albert flushes.  Damnit with the flushing!  He’s 26, not some flouncy high schooler, “But I don’t think that’s a good idea, detective.”

Albert nods, “No, yeah, honestly I don’t know why I asked- uh-”

“Relax, don’t have an aneurysm, it’s okay.  I just don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”

“No no, you’re right.  Absolutely.”

There’s another pause, then Race smiles apologetically, “I gotta go get the rest of my groceries.  Take care.”

Albert cringes internally at how fucking painfully awkward this exchange has been, “You too,” he says, watching Race retreat to the wine aisle.  He takes another moment to gather himself, then goes to the checkout line.

XXX

Albert turns up the volume on his TV, pleased with the quiet solitude of his apartment for the night.  He doesn’t love living alone, but it’s been a long couple days and he’s been looking forward to a night to himself since he’d woken up that morning.  Just him, some thai, and the Animal Planet playing reruns of ‘It’s Me or the Dog’ all night.  Fucking self care.

He’s just yelling at some dog owner on the TV for feeding his pug 24 eggs a day and watching as Victoria Stilwell chews out the greasy fucker when his phone rings on the coffee table in front of him. 

Groaning, Albert mutes the show and chugs down a few sips of beer, before picking up the phone and answering with an annoyed, “Someone better be dying.”

There’s silence on the other end and Albert pulls the phone away from his ear to check the caller ID.  It’s Spot.  Shit, someone might actually be dying.”

“Spot?  Everything okay?”

Spot sounds sheepish when he says, “Well no one’s dying, technically…”

“But…”

“There was another murder.”

“Shit.”

-

Race went straight home after the bodega, right? RIGHT!??!? stay tuned ;)

thanks saph for ‘pop spotcket’

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

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[my-emotional-self]

His Cinderella

Pairings: Chris x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Unloving Parents, Fluff

Request: I’d love to request a Chris x Reader story from you! I’m always on a Cinderella kick so I would love something fluffy where Chris is charmed by your wallflower/shy personality at some kind of event where you’re dressed up and feeling out of place. He’s with you for hours, laughing and dancing, letting you forget about your ungrateful family who can’t know you’re there.  But when you flee, Chris gets your number and name.  

Requested By: @brastrangled

“Oh come on Y/N. Please??  Pretty pretty please??” your best friend begged from the other end of the phone as you sat on your bed.  

“You know I can’t do that Sarah.  You know how my parents are,” you replied with a sigh.  

Sarah groaned into the phone.  “Trust me. I know how your parents are.  I still can’t get over the fact that they treat you like you are ten years old.”

It was true, your parents definitely didn’t treat you like your age, which was 24 years old.  Your whole life it felt like they didn’t want you at all.  But you knew your mother couldn’t get an abortion as her own parents would have removed her from their wills.  

The only reason you were putting up with it now was because they were paying for all of your schooling; which was also another thing your grandparents made sure to put in their wills before dying.  

As long as you lived at home during your schooling and did all the chores around the house, you got to live there rent free and your school fully paid for and to be honest, you couldn’t complain.  People drowned in debt from college these days and to be able to have all your degrees and not pay a dime, it was something you could live with for a little while longer.  

Normally most people would be done with school by now, but you were going for your Master’s degree in Psychology so you still had a little bit longer to go.  

“Y/N!” there was a loud bang on your door before your mother opening it, grimacing at you.  “Your father and I are going out tonight to a charity event in upstate.  It won’t end until late and the earliest we will be home is 1 am.  Get the house cleaned up.”  She slammed your door shut, the loud noise making you jump.  

“Well that solves that issue,” Sarah said and you could hear the smile on her face.  

~~~

Sarah came over to the large penthouse apartment you lived at with your parents on the Upper East side of New York; two garment bags in hand.  Luckily, your younger twin sisters were going with your parents.  They were both 18 years old and your parents loved them dearly; showering them with lavish gifts, but most of all, love. They were both bratty towards you and they were the worst part of living at home.  

“Tell me how you got us into this again?” you asked as the two of you worked together at cleaning the house before getting ready.  

“Well, it was my cousins boyfriends best friend who managed to snack two extra tickets.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the depths your best friend went through to get these tickets.  At the same time, you didn’t even know exactly what this party was you were going to.  All you knew was that it was black tie affair, and that there would be celebrities there.  Luckily it was taking place on the Upper East side so you would be close to home in case you needed to rush back quickly.  

Once the cleaning was finished, Sarah helped you get ready by doing your hair and makeup.  You were never one for getting dolled up and fancy, mainly because your parents practically kept you a secret and never let you go to any fancy charities or dinners with them and their friends, so you had no need for it.  Also, your parents didn’t really let you out of the house at all, except for school. It wasn’t a secret you knew they were ashamed of you, all because they had you at the young age of 16.  They weren’t the greatest parents, but you knew you could have had worse.  At least they paid for your schooling and you had shelter, food and clothing all for free. Just a little while longer and you would be out of their hair for good.  

Once Sarah was done, you looked in the mirror, not even recognizing yourself.  Your eyes popped with the mascara and eyeshadow; your lips a beautiful deep red color.  “Wow,” you breathed out as you stared at yourself in the mirror.  

“I know.  You’re hot,” Sarah smirked at her work of art.  “We are going to find you a man tonight!”

~~~

The Uber ride was short to the party as your hands began to fidget in your lap.  You were wearing a long one strapped black evening gown.  It hugged your chest and waist and flowed out from the hips and down to your feet.  You had to give Sarah props as she knew your exact dress size; it fit like a glove.  

Getting inside the party was rather easy as you only had to show your I.D and your ticket.  Looking around the large ballroom your mouth hung open at how beautifully it was decorated.  There was a large crystal chandelier right in the middle and dozens of round tables littered the floor for people to sit and eat.  

There was a full open bar off to the right side of the room, and to the left was a D.J setting up in front of the dance floor.  

“Come on, let’s go get us a drink,” Sarah said, pulling you towards the bar.  

~~~

The two of you had been there nearly an hour and you looked down to check the time on your phone.  It was nine at night and you knew you couldn’t leave any later than 12:30 if you wanted to make it home before your parents. You were unsure of what type of punishment you would endure and you didn’t want to find out.  

Most of the time they would take away your phone, or even your laptop which made researching and studying for school extremely difficult.  If you were to fail a class, it only meant more time having to live at home with your parents and you certainly didn’t want to do that.  

Looking at the dance floor you saw Sarah dancing with a guy she had just met.  She left you about fifteen minutes ago, saying she was going out for a quick dance with the hottie but would be right back.  You had a feeling you wouldn’t see her the rest of the night.  

Sipping on your champagne, you sat alone at the bar, feeling ready to just give up and go home.  This was supposed to be a fun night out for you, especially because you never get to have any of these nights.  You felt completely out of place surrounded by all these beautiful people; inside, you felt like Cinderella.  

“Hello,” a smooth sexy voice spoke from behind you.  

Turning around, you couldn’t help but notice it was Chris Evans.  You had never met a celebrity at all, but you knew how some people acted when they were around those who were famous.  To you, they were just people who happened to be in the spotlight and you knew they didn’t deserve to be treated any differently.  

But again, this was Chris Evans and you would be lying if you said you didn’t have a slight crush on him. He was standing tall in a black suit with a white undershirt; a cute black bowtie strapped around his neck. His beard was trimmed to perfection and his blue eyes were gazing intently at you.  

“H-hi,” you stammered out, feeling yourself begin to blush.  

He cleared his throat and took a glance down at the drink in his hand.  “I couldn’t help notice that you’ve been sitting here for a while by yourself.  I figured a beautiful woman shouldn’t be by herself at an event like this so I wanted to come over and introduce myself.”

His voice was smooth like butter, ringing through your ears like music.  You had heard people say before how nice and genuine a person Chris was, and now you could see it for yourself.  

“Oh, umm-that was really nice of you.  I’m actually here with my best friend, but she seemed to ditch me for someone to dance with,” you shyly spoke.  

“Well would you mind if I take a seat and keep you company?”

You turned to look back up at him, a smile forming on your lips.  “I’d like that.”

For the next hour, the two of you talked easily.  Chris couldn’t help but adore your shy personality in front of him and he truly enjoyed talking with you.  

“Hey, do you maybe wanna dance?” he asked, motioning to the dance floor as a slow song came on.  

Your heart began to race, but you knew you would never have an opportunity like this again.  Nodding your head, he took your hand in his and led the way to the dance floor.  

The song was a slow beat as he placed one hand in yours, the other placed gently on your lower back; your free hand cupping the back of his smooth neck.  

You were grateful that he took the lead as you didn’t know how to dance; you were hoping you wouldn’t mess up too bad.  “You’re a really good dancer,” you spoke quietly, nervously chewing on your inside cheek.  

Chris smiled, letting out a small laugh.  “My mom taught me.  In fact she taught all of my siblings how to dance.  I even learned how to tap dance when I was younger.”

“Is there any chance we will be seeing those dance moves tonight?” you teased.

His laughter was infections as his head dipped back.  “Not tonight I’m afraid.  I don’t think too many people would want to see that.”

“Too bad.  Maybe another time then?”

His grin turned into a full faced smile, in turn making you smile as well.  “I think that could be arranged.”

You both continued to sway together, keeping the conversation going.  

At one point, the music was stopped and the D.J came across the microphone.  “We would like to remind you that it will be last call at the bar as it closes in 30 minutes.”

“Damn, I can’t believe how late it has gotten.  Time sure has flown by,” Chris spoke directly in your ear as the music was once again turned up.  

Your eyes widened as you let go of him from your dancing position and grabbed your phone out of your little clutch purse.  Lighting it up, you noticed it was 12:25 in the morning.  

“Shit!” you cried out in panic.  Looking up at Chris, you saw his eyes were wide.  “I have to go.  I’m sorry.” With spending your entire night with Chris, you had completely lost track of time and you also forgot about your overbearing parents; it honestly felt like you lived a normal life for once.

“Wait, is everything alright?” he asked but it was too later, you were already bunching your dress up and trying to squeeze through the guests to get out of there and back home.

By the time you made it to the front door of the ballroom, you felt a soft hand grab your arm. “Please wait,” Chris said with worry.

“I’m really sorry Chris. But I have to leave right now.”

“I didn’t even get your name.”

“Y/N.  My name is Y/N,” you responded, feeling your heart begin to cease its racing just while being in his presence again.  

“It’s a beautiful name. Do you-do you think I could get your number Y/N?”  You could tell there was a nervous twinge to his voice and you thought it adorable. Giving him a nod, he handed you his cell phone and you punched in your number quickly before handing it back to him.

Feeling rather daring, you reached up on your toes and gave him a quick kiss to his cheek. A smile formed on his handsome face at your gesture and in a moment’s time, you were running out the door to get back home.  

Tag List: @badassbaker @guera31 @tanelle83 @chrisevansfanfic @xjjlex @princess-evans-addict @joannie95 @pumbibaby @patzammit @brastrangled @mrs-captain-evans @notyourtypicalrose @sfreeborn @esoltis280 @xxloki81xx @bornfortherainydays @poerebel @livslookingforloki @raveviolet

[embarrassingsmartphonegame]

Anything (Chapter 2) - Nik Ryder x f!MC

Summary: After surviving an attempt on her life, she discovers there are worse fates than dying. And they’re all ice cold. 

Warnings for this chapter: descriptions of depression, excessive alcohol usage, non-explicit sexual content

Link to the previous chapter

==============================================

Three months later.

Nothing.

Nothing.

‘Still nothing.’ Leah groaned as she rolled over to the other side of her queen bed. The other side was cold; she estimated that the woman from the previous night left a few hours prior. What was her name? Something that started with an A: Aisha, Asha, Ashley? Whatever, it didn’t matter. The name of the man from 2 nights ago didn’t, and neither did all the others.

Wordlessly, she got up and walked around her bedroom, shivering as her bare skin made contact with the air. It was already May; why was she always so cold? She considered for a moment packing some broccoli in her lunch because she read somewhere that being cold all the time could mean she was anemic, but she had to rush that morning to get to work on time so no time for lunch.

“Good morning!” she greeted as she entered the office, putting on her usual chipper facade. No one looked up, save for old Rob from accounting who gave her a grunt in response. When she got to her cubicle, she let her face slip into the same old neutral expression and got to work. 

‘Fri-yay,’ she thought to herself sarcastically as she read the latest TGIF email from Janice from HR. Bless her heart for trying to keep morale up in their office. Leah deleted it immediately. More paperwork, more emails, more denying invitations to co-workers’ baby showers. The day passed by in its usual gray, clicking blur. She never did get her broccoli; that would’ve been a wild day if she did.

She got home that day at precisely 5:30pm like she did every other day. At 5:45pm she had her usual small dinner prepared, and at 6:00pm she’d finished eating while mindlessly watching a trashy reality show involving a woman from Brazil coming to the U.S. to marry some ugly guy who still lived with his mother. She snorted at their antics, and the episode and her meal ended quickly. She tried for the millionth time that month to take part in her beloved hobbies again: dance, paint, pluck at the strings of her old violin. 

“Years of violin lessons...these fingers are like lightning!” She slipped the rings off the goblins’ fingers as Nik started an argument to distract them, her mischievous grin never leaving her face.

She pushed down the aching in her chest at the intrusive thought, picking up her bow.

“My mom still plays!” she quipped, strolling with her newfound father through the warm glow of Lamrian.

Leah almost slammed her beloved violin down, but she kept control. She always did. It was only 8:00pm: too early to go to bed and get nightmares again. Wordlessly, she slinked into the only clean dress she had left: a little red number whose bloodstains and memories she knew wouldn’t get noticed in the dark by the other club goers or her. She didn’t want to wear it. But it was either that or a maroon velvet dress with thigh high slits and even more painful memories. She’d meant to throw that maroon dress away, but when she got home 3 months before it was hurriedly buried deep within her closet and she didn’t have the energy to look through it. Piles of dirty laundry were scattered through the floor of her room and she pushed them under the bed in a sorry attempt to make it look somewhat presentable. She lined her eyes with black eyeshadow and eyeliner and slipped into some heels before leaving her apartment.

Nothing.

She woke up with the red dress on the floor the next morning, her bed thankfully cold and empty again. It always was annoying if someone tried to stay, but she was now usually able to go after the ones who wouldn’t. But something was different this time; her phone was buzzing. She groaned, thinking it was her another courtesy invite to a baby shower. To her relief, it was a text from Kristin, and she read and responded to it through squinting, hangover afflicted eyes:

Kristin: heyyyyy bestie! surprise, I’m coming to your town tonight! I miss you xx

Leah: Huh way to give me a heads up, bitch! Lol jk, I miss you too and you know I’m not busy. Dinner and drinks later?

Kristin: you know it babe

Leah suddenly remembered it was Saturday, so she didn’t have to go to work that day and deal with the endless indifference of corporate life. Her thighs sore and bruised from the previous night, she slipped on a large white t-shirt and silently headed to her kitchen. There wasn’t much; she hadn’t gone grocery shopping in 10 days and used the last of her groceries for dinner the previous night. She sat at her small dining room table, stirring her usual cinnamon into her coffee and flipping through the messages of that week: a picture of Cal and Donny on a fishing trip, a sample of Vera’s latest song, Katherine talking about her latest catch. A rare genuine smile graced her features as she responded to all of them, making sure to apologize for taking a week and a half to respond...again. She tried to warm herself up with the coffee and cinnamon combination, and she hugged herself without much success.

The rest of the day passed by slowly, and the only productive thing she did was throw her giant pile of dirty laundry in one washing machine and then the dryer. Who cared if the clothes weren’t supposed to be washed together? Certainly not Leah. Pretty soon it was 10:00pm and she stood in front of the one club in her small town waiting for Kristin.

“Leahhhh!!!” Kristin squealed and ran over, pulling her into a tight hug. Leah inhaled sharply; she may have healed very fast and the skin was nowhere close to being open, but the scars were still slightly tender to the touch. She told all her hookups she had open heart surgery as a child, and they never questioned it. She hugged Kristin back and bit back a groan of pain. 

“Kristin!! I’m so happy to see you!” And she meant it. She actually meant it, especially after she almost lost her because of the...she shook her head, willing those memories away. Ignoring the stinging on her chest, she hugged Kristin tighter, jumping up and down a little. “So why exactly are you here?”

“What? I can’t just see my best friend?” Leah raised an eyebrow, but she let it go. Asking Kristin to explain anything she did was like asking a fish to explain astrophysics in Latin. Last time she tried was junior year of college and Leah would never get those 45 nonsensical minutes of her life back. It wasn’t unusual behavior for her to take a random trip to see her over the years anyway.

“You’re right, let’s get some shots in us!” Leah and Kristin hopped over to the bar, and pretty soon there was a line of tequila glittering in the darkness. Music blared out of large speakers, vibrating in their ears. They each clinked a shot glass together and knocked it back. Leah immediately felt warm and dizzy and her face flushed, since she hadn’t eaten anything that day. In fact, she didn’t remember much of what she did that day...or really the past few days. 

Leah laughed as Kristin launched into a story from something weird that happened to her back in New York, and pretty soon the line of shots was empty with Leah drinking most of it in a span of 15 minutes. The rest of the night passed in a blur. Random men kept buying them drinks and Leah kept chugging them, unconsciously desperate to feel that warm and dizzying effect some more. It felt like she was drifting off into space as she danced with some guy named JT or whoever who worked for ClickIt. She swayed to the music and let him run his lips across her neck and bend her over without a care in the world. Nothing, nothing, nothing mattered to her at that moment. Nothing. Until she felt soft hands pulling her away and dragging her through the crowd and away from the shouting man behind her. She blearily looked at whoever was pulling her, and she was surprised to see it was Kristin with an uncharacteristically sober, serious look on her face. 

“Yeesh, Kristin, since when have you been the one to cockblooooock?” Leah joked, her words slurred. Kristin led her to a quieter corner with a free couch and sat her down. To her surprise, Leah felt Kristin tugging at her dress, and she realized that she was actually placing it back over her chest. And she was too drunk to worry about her scar showing.

“I think you’ve had enough,” Kristin said, holding her by the shoulders.

Leah snorted. “Good one.”

“Leah, seriously, I never say this. But you’ve had enough.” Kristin swiped the drink from her hand that she didn’t even realize she was holding (and spilling on herself).

“Hey, what the hell! What’s gotten into you?” Leah pouted.

“Uhhhh what’s gotten into you is more like it! You’ve been acting really weird these past few months and we’re all worried!”

“‘We?’”

“Me and Vee. You’re not yourself,” Kristin explained, gazing into her brown eyes intensely. Leah inhaled sharply.

“What are you talking about? I’m still Leah! Come on, Kristin, I’m just having fun!”

“No you’re not.”

“What?”

“Honestly, Leah, I know I’m your party queen friend, but we’ve also been best friends since we were 18. I know you’re not having fun because your smile is sooo fake and it’s only because of the alcohol. And that guy you just kissed? Totally not your type.”

“Well ok fine maybe I’m having a midlife crisis or something. Been invited to too many baby showers and shit,” muttered Leah, her drunken brain letting words slip out.

“You’re 25!”

“I could die at 50!” ‘Technically did die at 25,’ she thought bitterly as she tried to reach for her drink in Kristin’s hand, but her best friend held it away from her.

“Seriously, Leah, this isn’t you!” declared Kristin, shaking her a little.

“What isn’t me?!” Leah started shouting, frustrated.

“All of this! The responses to texts that take weeks, the fact that you don’t play the violin anymore, the fact that you’re so goddamn skinny now! Leah, I think you really need help,” Kristin pleaded, her warm puppy dog eyes glimmering in the darkness.

“Kristin, really, I’m fine. I’m just busy with work, that’s all.” Even in her drunken state, Leah knew she was deflecting. 

“At that job you hate and put minimal effort into? You really expect me to believe that? I know this is about how you got attacked in New Orleans.”

“Don’t,” whispered Leah, a chill running down her spine. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Did you forget I got mugged and was in the hospital for a week? I still have no idea what happened, but I can tell you I get it more than you think.” Guilt flashed through Leah’s throbbing mind as she recalled Kristin pale and prone in that alleyway before she ran to try to evade the bloodwraith. If it weren’t for her being around, Kristin wouldn’t have gotten hurt. It was all her fault. Leah stayed silent.

Kristin continued. “I know you. You thought since you almost died, you should stop taking risks, stop putting your own life in danger. You stopped being your usual brave, chaotic self. So you ran back to Wyoming—which, may I remind you, you only came back here after college to care for your dad and he’s gone now. You hate your job, you hate where you live, you don’t even talk to your mom anymore; why are you still here? And don’t tell me it’s because you can’t find work anywhere else; I know you haven’t tried yet. I thought you wanted things to be different this year.”

Leah flinched at the mention of her dad—no, stepdad. It was true. She did come back to care for him after college, but he eventually succumbed to the cancer after years of her caring for him. She and her mom were never close in the first place, and she definitely couldn’t face her after Elric. “Ok maybe I decided to play it safe from now on. What’s wrong with that? I was too reckless in New Orleans and that’s what almost got me killed.”

“What’s wrong is you’re contradicting yourself.” Kristin gestured at the rest of the club. “Playing it safe yet you’re constantly here and getting drunk and sleeping with a new person almost every night for the last month. I know you haven’t been eating well and you haven’t been talking to your friends as much. You’re literally depressed now, and I can’t stand by and let you go on like this.”

“...Maybe you have a point,” she finally conceded, running a hand through her hair. It was no use arguing. “But I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know what exactly I’m running from.”

“Love.”

“What?”

“You know what I’m talking about. You fell in love and you’re scared. When I saw you in New Orleans with that Nik guy, I haven’t seen you that alive in years.” Leah froze at Kristin’s unintentionally poor choice of words, but then rolled her eyes. She had no idea there was more, even if a small, buried deep part of her admitted Nik was part of the reason she left. Leah pushed down her last happy memory of them dancing on the float at Mardi Gras.

“Kristin, I knew him for a week.” And what a hell of a week that was. “Sure he was hot, but it was clearly just a fling. Come on, you know I’m not that stupid.”

“I’m not saying you’re stupid and this is just about a guy. But you are running away from things. Come on, can you really say you’re happy here?”

For the first time in months, she inadvertently let warm tears roll down her cheeks and sobs catch in her throat, and she had never felt more human, more alive since leaving New Orleans. Kristin wrapped her arms around her and let her cry as some new pop song about being in love with a liar blared from the speakers of the bar. Leah leaned into the familiarity of it all, feeling like a 19-year-old getting her heart broken for the first time again. This time she was a heartbroken 25-year-old pondering how her life turned out this way. As her sobs turned to hiccups, she thought about how lucky she was to have a friend like Kristin, who’d been calling her out on all her bullshit since day one. The two stayed in the corner for a few more hours, allowing them to catch up more.

At around 4am she and Kristin parted ways, promising to stay in touch better. Kristin gave her a weary look as she headed back to her hotel. Leah stumbled back into her apartment and into her bed, alone for the first time in a month. She wrapped herself in a ball in a blanket and closed her eyes. 

Crrrkkk!

Leah’s eyes snapped open. With trembling hands, she took out the baseball bat from under her bed and poised it up in her arms, ready to take on whoever was breaking into her apartment. She stalked as quietly as she could (which was not very) outside of her bedroom and turned the lights on in her living room to see if anyone--or anything--was there. The bat clanged to the floor as her eyes took in the figure in front of her. 

“...Father?!”

==============================================

Tagging: @furiouscloddonutpeanut @nighthunterkatherine @saivilo @samara-rani @god-save-the-keen  @xxdangerouscapri15xx 

A/N: Lol so how about that Nightbound finale? I personally got frustrated with both the fact that it’s a standalone and how they handled Nik and MC’s diamond ending where MC basically begs Nik to love them and all of a sudden things are okay. Of course this fic is taking some liberties (mainly because I wrote the first chapter before the finale) for that added drama. Also yes, MC almost hooked up with TJ from LoveHacks because I can’t think of anything more embarrassing. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter! Next chapter I promise we’ll see our favorite cursed Nighthunter. I don’t know how fast I’ll update this, since I’m moving and starting medical school soon, but writing is my stress relief and I’ll try my best to make it not too long.

[lovemesomerafael]

El Amor Todo Lo Puede            Chapter 29:  Broken

Chapters 1-25  Chapter 26  Chapter 27  Chapter 28

Fin and Laura sat watching nothing from the confines of their unmarked car. There was no activity at the run-down brick house across the street, and hadn’t been since they’d begun this shift five hours ago.  Laura squirmed around to change her position.  Fin looked over at her.

Fin and Laura sat watching nothing from the confines of their unmarked car. There was no activity at the run-down brick house across the street, and hadn’t been since they’d begun this shift five hours ago.  Laura squirmed around to change her position.  Fin looked over at her.

“You got something on your mind.  Might as well tell me, we got nothing else to do.”

“You don’t wanna know.”

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s man problems, that’s how.”

Fin rolled his eyes.  “You’re right.  I don’t wanna know.”

Laura threw up a hand.  

Ten silent, event-free minutes later, Fin sighed and said, “All right, all right, your man problems will at least be amusing.  Spill before I die of boredom.”

“I’m not here for your amusement.  Entertain yourself.”

“Whatever.”

Another ten minutes of absolute silence and lack of activity on the street followed.  Fin turned to look at Laura once again, raising an eyebrow.

“OK, so there’s a guy.  I’m really into him, and I think he likes me, too – he acts like he does, but…  I don’t know.  I’ve given him a million signals, but he… he just doesn’t respond.  He texts, he calls, he comes over, but he never makes a move.  Normally, I’d just jump him and see what happens, but this guy…”

“This guy what?”

“I told you, I’m really into him.  I care what he thinks.  If he’s not into me, I’ll get over it, but I don’t want to lose him as a friend.”

“Bulllshit.  You’re scared,” Fin laughed.

“Terrified,” Laura agreed.  

“White people,” Fin groaned.  “Look, you said this guy acts like he’s into you, right?”

“Up to a point, yeah…”

“OK, so, he obviously likes you.  I’m a man, if some woman I like makes a play for me, I’mma be flattered, even if I’m not into her.  I’m gonna be cool about it, let her down easy. Never mention it again.”

“So you think I should make an unmistakeable move.”

“Yeah.  Just corner Barba and plant one on him.”

“What makes you think –“

Fin silenced her with a look.  “Don’t even with me.”

Laura sputtered for a second, but realized the futility of argument.  

“And I’ll tell you something else.  You better do it somewhere private.  Dude’s gonna respond.  Bigtime.”

“You don’t know that.”

Fin made a disgusted sound.  “Right.”

********

Rafael walked into the breakroom just as Laura grabbed her soda from the tray of the vending machine.  

“Hey,” she said, smiling at him.

“Detective.”  He looked a little odd.  She held the door to the squad room open and stepped aside for him, thinking that he was on his way to see Lieutenant Benson.

“Actually, I came over to ask you something.”  

“Oh,” she said, letting the door fall back closed.  “What’s up?”

Rafael changed his briefcase from one hand to the other.  “I need a favor.”  

“Name it.”  

“The Bar Association holds this annual torture carnival fiendishly disguised as an awards dinner.  The worst possible food, lots of irritating people in garish outfits, monotonous speeches. Basically purgatory with a no-host bar.”

“Uh-huh.  And you’d like me to arrest you so you don’t have to go.”

“Kind of you to offer, and I’d take you up on it, but this year I drew the short straw.  They make sure there’s at least one senior A.D.A. at our office’s table, and McCoy’s just informed me that I’m this year’s martyr.”  He stopped and looked pleadingly at her, dropping his voice.  “I’m hoping I can talk you into coming with me.  I need someone to make snarky comments with so I don’t end up in a rubber room.  Or locked up.”  He quickly followed up with, “It doesn’t have to be a date.  More like… backup.”

“Sounds awful.”

“I promise, it will be.”

Laura smiled.  “What should I wear?”

Rafael beamed back at her.  

******

Laura was annoyed with herself.  He’d said that it wasn’t a date, and she wasn’t going to try to turn it into one.  Their unexpected friendship had become too important to her.  She was not going to do anything to jeopardize it, including take Fin’s advice and just kiss Rafael.  So they would be dressed up.  Otherwise, it would be no different than eating dim sum in front of a Fast & Furious movie on her couch.  Right?

Still… she was dangerously attracted to Rafael.  No matter how resolutely he maintained his distance, his deep green eyes and sexy smirks still struck her mind momentarily blank.  And it wasn’t just physical.  She responded so strongly to his dry, sardonic humor that she found herself looking forward to seeing him just to hear what he would say.  So the idea of spending an evening with him, dressed in evening clothes, just the two of them against everyone else at the bar association dinner, was intoxicating.

She removed her curling iron from the last tendril of hair artfully pulled from the bun in her hair, scoffing at the irony of spending this kind of time creating the trendy “messy” look.  She grumbled as she again questioned her makeup choices and tried to determine how much perfume was enticing without overdoing it.  She tried to tell herself she was just irritated by the difficulties of trying to prepare for an evening out, but in truth she was nervous.  Date or not, it mattered that Rafael thought she looked – and smelled - good.  Finally, she was ready to drop her gorgeous new dress over her head and strap on her new heels.  

Rafael could not believe he was even thinking about his hair.  He had work hair and not-work hair.  No thought, no choices.  Yet here he was.  He didn’t allow himself to consider the thought in the back of his mind that the real question was which Laura preferred.  Finally, he decided that this event was work, so work hair it was.  

When Laura opened her door, Rafael literally caught his breath.  Until that moment, he had thought that was a cliché. Now he knew better.  She looked so gorgeous he had actually almost gasped.  She was wearing her hair in a way he’d never seen; not the businesslike bun or ponytail she wore at work, or the haphazard knot she sometimes wore at home.  It reminded him of the way a woman’s hair got messed up in bed… better not to think about that.  Her dress, too, was different than anything he’d ever seen her wear.  It was a floor-length sheath in a clingy mauve material with the slightest sparkle, with a trail of twisted fabric draped enticingly across her neck and right upper arm, and tiny straps that left her shoulders and arms bare.  The skirt flared just enough from the knees down to swish beguilingly.  It accentuated everything he appreciated about her body.

“You, um… wow.”  

“Wow?”  Laura smiled.

“Yeah.  Going with ‘wow’.”  

Laura felt almost shy.  Rafael looked elegant and rakish (yes, she suddenly realized, that was a real thing). Something about the way he stood comfortably in his tuxedo, looking at her like a man looks at a woman, made her feel clumsy and tongue-tied.  He seemed suddenly so urbane and sophisticated, she felt like a gawky teenager.

“Well, you look like James Bond’s hotter American cousin.”

Rafael’s smile of genuine pleasure touched her heart.

He put his hand on the small of her back as they stepped out the door into the street.  She shivered at the touch.  Rafael guided her to the car waiting to take them to the hotel where the dinner was being held.  He saw her notice that it was a town car, rather than simply an Uber or taxi.  He smiled.  It had been a strange impulse to spoil her that he was now very glad he’d indulged.

When the car pulled into the semi-circular portico built into the ground floor of the hotel, people in evening dress were arriving in limousines, taxis, and private vehicles.  Rafael and Laura could see more glamorous people milling around in the lobby behind a glass wall.  

Rafael stepped out of the car and held his hand out to Laura.  She took it, feeling like Cinderella on the way to a particularly businesslike ball.  She noticed with pleasure that he kept her hand in his as they began to walk toward the doors, shoulder to shoulder.    

“You ready for this?”  He asked, leaning into her.

“Nope.”

“Me, neither.”

“Stick close.  I’ll cover you,” she said, leaning back into him, and squeezing his hand.

Rafael knew everyone.  It took half an hour to work their way across the lobby to the ballroom where the event was taking place, greeting and being greeted by lawyers and judges.  Laura knew some of the people they spoke to, most she didn’t.  She was impressed to find that Rafael was always attentive, asking her each time whether she knew the people they spoke with and introducing her when she didn’t.  

Laura found herself hiding a smile on several occasions.  Rafael made comments to a number of people which, on their face, seemed innocuous, but which she knew were not.  Clearly, the objects of the comments didn’t know that, which made her feel like she and Rafael were sharing a secret.  It felt intimate.  As they moved from one encounter to the next, one of them would often lean toward the other and whisper a private comment about the people they’d been talking to.

Defense attorney Roger Kressler and his 20-year-old wife were the last to greet them before they made it into the ballroom.  “Mr. Barba, I believe that’s the only intelligent thing I’ve ever seen you do.”  

“What’s that, Mr. Kressler?”  Rafael asked, his lips twisted in anticipation of an insult.

“Bringing a police detective as your date.  She can protect you from the many, many people here who may want to do you harm.”

Rafael put an arm around Laura.  “I’m kind of hoping she has to.  I’d love to get a look at that thigh holster I’ve heard about.”

“Just so you know,” Laura said over her shoulder as he led her around the Kresslers and into the ballroom.  “’You’re on your own.”  She winked at Kressler.

“Thigh holster?”  She whispered to Rafael.

“No rompas mis sueños.”[1]

They settled at their assigned table and spent some time meeting the others from the D.A.’s office and their dates.  Introductions soon gave way to shop talk for the few moments before the program began.

Rafael hadn’t lied about the bad food.  The Governor gave a short, canned welcome speech and the first several awards were presented while the guests were served a dinner of bland, lukewarm chicken.  Throughout dinner, Rafael and Laura spoke quietly in Spanish, trying their best to make each other laugh.  

Soon after dessert was over, Rafael and Laura scooted their chairs so that they were facing the dais directly.  They sat as close together as they could so that they could continue to share snarky remarks about the speeches.  Rafael laid his arm across the back of Laura’s chair, which made it difficult for him not to run his fingertips over her bare shoulder.  Laura wished he would.  

Hours later, when the awards program had mercifully ended and some couples were taking advantage of the music playing and a small dance floor that had been set up, Laura and Rafael sat together near the table, their chairs half-turned toward one another.  They sipped surprisingly good coffee and talked about any number of things, forgetting where they were for long stretches of time.  Occasionally, during breaks in the conversation, they watched the crowd.    

“You’re a nurse, right?  Your CPR card up to date?”  He asked Laura, over the music.

“Worried about Buchanan?”  

“I am.  I don’t think he’s done that much dancing since his disco days.”

“Which is apparently a good thing.”

Rafael shrugged.  “Oh, I don’t know.  He’s got some moves.  And you have to admire his pluck.  Not everyone would have the boldness to do… that… in public.”

They shared a look and a laugh.

Rafael leaned back in his chair, looking at Laura with a bemused expression on his face.  “I just realized something.”

“Which is?”

“It’s after 10 p.m., which means this wretched ordeal has been ongoing for over four hours and I haven’t wanted to kill myself once.”  He smiled and held up his cup to her in a toast. “Congratulations, Detective, you have performed a miracle.”

“Mission accomplished,” she smiled, and clinked her coffee cup with his.

“I actually think we can safely escape, if you want to.  Half our table has already bailed.”

She looked around the room, pondering his suggestion.  She didn’t want her evening out with Rafael to end.  Returning her gaze to him with a coy expression, she said, “Except for one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You haven’t asked me to dance yet.”

His eyes smouldered.  For the past hour, he had been trying to find a way to suggest that they dance, without betraying how much he really just wanted to take her in his arms.  He grinned and offered her his hand.  “Detective Parker, may I have this dance?”

“I’d love to.”

They made their way, hand in hand, to the dance floor where several couples had just taken their places.  The song was a fairly good cover of the Righteous Brothers’ “Unchained Melody”, which gave Rafael the opportunity to hold Laura close, as he’d been aching to do all evening.  They found that they fit together comfortably; their heights allowed them to make quiet comments to one another without being overheard, which lent an increased intimacy to the moment.  Laura felt her body reacting to Rafael’s embrace.  She could smell his subtle cologne, something clean with a hint of musk that made her want to nuzzle his neck.  As she fought the urge to pull him tightly against her, she wondered how closely she could appropriately hold him.  

Rafael was wrestling with the same urge.  He could think of nothing but how good her body felt where his arms encircled her.  Without consciously planning to, he turned his head to whisper into her ear.

“I’m glad you agreed to endure this with me.  Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” she whispered back.

They slowly danced, neither focused in the slightest on their surroundings, enjoying being so close.  Rafael felt Laura give the slightest shake of her head.

“What?”  He asked, turning his head and pulling away from her a bit so he could look into her face.

“Nothing,” she said. “It’s… inappropriate.”

“I love inappropriate.  Tell me.”

She looked uncomfortable.  “I was just thinking that…  you smell amazing.”  She looked away from his eyes.

He grinned, ridiculously pleased by her comment.  “In that case,” he began, in a voice that sent shivers through Laura. “I will tell you that I’ve been spellbound all night by the way you look in that dress.”

She inhaled and looked up at him.  He pulled her closer, looking down into her eyes.  “There,” he murmured in a bedroom purr.  “Now we’re both inappropriate.”

They danced slowly, looking into one another’s eyes, suddenly past all pretense.

“You know,” he said huskily, “I said this didn’t have to be a date, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be.”

Laura pulled him a bit closer, finally giving in to the desire to melt her body into his.  “I vote date,” she murmured.

“It’s unanimous.”  

He slowly began to lower his head as she tipped her face up to his.  At the last moment, they simultaneously realized what they were about to do in front of half the New York Bar.  

“Let’s get out of here,” Rafael whispered.

“Let’s,” Laura agreed.

They said nothing as they collected Laura’s wrap and evening bag and walked, hand in hand, out to the hotel entrance.  The attendants motioned to the next cab in line, and they slid into the back seat.  Rafael put his arm around Laura, and she nestled into him.  Both were breathing a bit harder than normal, their hearts beating faster in anticipation of what might happen.  They were uncharacteristically quiet.

“That was fun,” Laura finally tried, looking up at him in hopes that he would take the opportunity to kiss her.  

He didn’t.  Instead, he laughed.  “Said no one, ever, about that particular event.”  

“Well, I had fun.”

He squeezed her and she snuggled closer to him.  “I did, too,” he said quietly, kissing her on the top of her head.  “I knew if there was anyone who could make that bearable, it was you.  I should have known you’d do better than that.”

Again she pulled away slightly to look up at him. “Yeah?”

He skipped a beat.  “Yeah,” he whispered, and tilted down to brush her lips softly with his. She wondered whether he was feeling the same rush of sensual heat from just that small, brief kiss.  He was.  

He held her hand on the way into their building, then put his hand on her back after holding the door for her.  They walked across the lobby, entered the elevator, and rode, silently, to her floor, holding hands and standing more closely than they ever had when riding together in the past.  As Rafael followed her to her door and into her apartment, Laura thought he might be able to hear her heart hammering in her chest.  

As soon as she’d closed the door behind them, she turned to him.

“We didn’t finish our dance.”

The invitation in her voice was clear.  “We can finish it now,” he said huskily.  

There, just inside her apartment door, he put one arm around her waist and took hold of her hand in his.  She rested her arm on his shoulder, her hand tantalizingly close to the bare skin on the back of his neck.  He began to sway his hips, moving his feet to lead her in a small circle.  Through her unease about making a move on him, she noticed two things: first, that he was a good dancer, and second, that moving with him felt very nice.  

They hadn’t turned on any lights; they were lit only by the glow of the city coming in through the windows.  They enjoyed a few moments together before she met his eyes in the dimness, took a breath, and asked, “Hypothetically, what if I said I wanted to kiss you?”

“I’d let you.”  He didn’t look away from her eyes, and didn’t stop leading her in a slow, sexy dance.

“Let me.”  Laura’s soft voice held a note of disappointment, although she moved a bit closer to him.  “Like, just to be polite?  Because if you’d let me kiss you just to be polite, I’m not going to kiss you.”

His voice dropped to a throaty purr.  “Well, there would be other reasons, too.”  

“So you would kiss me back?”

“Definitely.”

“Definitely?  That’s pretty good,” she grinned, turning her face up to his but not moving to kiss him.

Rafael smirked wryly down at Laura.  “Why are we having a hypothetical conversation about kissing?  Why aren’t we just kissing?”

“Because I’ve been trying to get you to kiss me for a long time.  And you keep… not kissing me.  I didn’t know if that was because you didn’t want to and I didn’t want to kiss you if you didn’t want me to.”

Rafael furrowed his brow.  “I want you to.”

“Are you sure?  Because I want to, but I don’t want things to be weird.”

“Laura, this conversation is weird,” he almost whispered, their lips now close enough to feel one another’s breath as they spoke. “Just kiss me.”

“Really?” 

“Por Dios…”[2]

She lifted her chin and gently pressed her lips to his, moving them softly and slowly.  He immediately tightened his arms, pressing her body to his.  At first, he kissed her tentatively, but that didn’t last.  Their embrace became more intimate as they concentrated on learning one another’s lips, tasting one another for the first time. Somehow, this first kiss felt like a conversation – a confirmation of what they both knew they felt, and an ecstatic acknowledgement that something wonderful was happening between them.

They forgot to keep dancing as their kisses lengthened and deepened.  Laura knew immediately that she was in the hands of an expert.  After a few moments of skillful, progressively more intimate exploration of her lips, she felt him use the tip of his tongue to tease her lips apart.  With a small gasp that went straight to Rafael’s groin, she opened her mouth to him.  

Rafael could feel himself already getting hard.  His mind was having trouble accepting that he actually had Laura in his arms and that it was her tongue dancing with his, but his body knew.  She was almost breathless.  He tasted so good, and his body felt so much better than she’d imagined, that she found herself becoming dizzy with desire and holding on to him to stay standing.  

“I can’t believe it,” she panted.  “My knees actually feel weak.  That’s really a thing.”

He chuckled, smoothing his hand over her hair and pulling her mouth back to his. Their kisses became instantly more intense.

Until he stopped.  Laura was pretty sure there wasn’t actually the loud screech of tires resounding through her apartment, but she heard that deafening sound nonetheless.

He let go of her and turned toward the living room, taking a few steps away and trying to regain control of his breathing.  “I can’t think when you’re close to me.”  

She didn’t know what to make of any of this.  Breathless and awash in hormones, she was more than a little confused by his abrupt withdrawal.  Slowly, she moved past him to drop her wrap and purse on the nearest chair, then turned to him in the dimness.  She just waited, standing a few feet from him.

He ran a hand through his hair, dismayed and trying to find a way to express what he needed her to know.

“You know I was married,” he began.

“You told me.”

“It was… bad.”

“You said that, too.”

He stepped back toward her and took both her hands in his.  “The things you told me, about how the attack permanently changed you…  I’m not comparing my divorce to what happened to you, but…  I recognized that.  I’m like that.”

She didn’t know what to say, and didn’t want to do anything that might stop him when he was finally giving her the answers she’d been trying so hard to find.

“Can we just… sit and talk?”  He led her to the couch and sat down facing her, their knees touching and her hands still in his.  The darkness made it easier for him; he didn’t want her to see his shame and pain.  But he owed her the truth.

“What happened?”  Laura’s voice, soft and low, held warmth and compassion.

“Her name was Anatalia.  I was only twenty-five when we got married, but I don’t think it would have mattered how old I was.”

He struggled with what to say next.  As a result of whatever had happened to him, he had become a man who didn’t share any more than he absolutely had to.  Laura understood that.  She was not going to be able to rush him, and the obvious depth of his wounds made her want to protect him, rather than do anything that would make it worse.  What had this woman done to Rafael?  She felt a profound, possessive anger that anyone could, or would, hurt this man.  She waited, trying to be patient until, all at once, words began to spill from him.

“I thought it was forever.  I meant it to be forever.  And I felt that way until the day she served me with divorce papers.  By then, it was hell; she didn’t even try to hide her affairs, or the utter disregard she had for me.  But I thought I was supposed to stay in hell because I’d made vows.  So that day, when I got the papers, I went home to confront her.  You heard that right – we still lived together.  I’d been sleeping on the couch for a year, but there I was…  still trying to be married.  I came into our bedroom – her bedroom, I guess - crying and begging her to try one more time, and she laughed at me.  Laughed.  She couldn’t have cared less about vows, or forever.  Or me.  She never had.  The only reason she was bothering with a divorce was that one of her boyfriends had proposed, and he had a lot of money.  She told me all of that, in so many words.”

“Oh, my God.”

“I loved her completely.  She was my whole world, and I had trusted her with everything I was.  I had given her everything, all of me.  And in that moment, I finally saw that she had never had anything but contempt for any of it.  Nothing about me had any value to her whatsoever.  That moment… broke me, Laura.”

“Rafael…  I’m so sorry.”

“I swore in that moment that I was done with anything having to do with trust, or love.  Permanently. I’m like you.  The same way you’ve lived your life to make sure you never go back into that room with the dirt floor, I’ve lived mine so I never go back into that bedroom where I got my guts ripped out.  Does that make sense?”

She nodded.  “Of course it does.”

“That’s why, as much as I’d love to, I can’t get involved with you.”

His words hung between them, so final and necessary to him, so understandable but flawed to her.

“I was with you until right then.”

“I’m not negotiating here.  I’m just telling you how it is.”  He let go of her hands.

She took her time framing her response.  “I respect that.  Of all people, I get having a moment in your life that you will do anything never to repeat. I have several.  And I understand doing whatever it takes.”

“Exactly.  So do me a favor.  Whatever ‘buts’ you’re about to give me, please don’t.”

She smiled at him in the dim light.  “I think you know me better than to think I’m going to be able to do that. Don’t you?”

He sighed, just the barest hint of an upward tilt of his lips giving her permission to continue.  

“If I told you that my only option to avoid what happened to me is never to go outside again, you wouldn’t agree, would you?”

“That’s a false equivalency.”

“No.  It’s exactly the same.  And it’s no more necessary for you to become a hermit than it is for me to.  It was.  I absolutely understand that, for a long time, that was necessary for you. But I don’t think it is anymore.”

The look on his face was halfway between anger and some kind of terrified hope.  “I disagree.”

“Are you sure?  Because you let me in a little.  And so far, you’re OK.  Right?”

He sighed deeply.  “I didn’t mean to let you in at all.  But the usual rules don’t seem to apply to you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m kinda known for that.” 

“Laura, I have those rules for a reason.”

“I hear you.  I do.  I understand and I respect that.  I’m not asking you to get rid of your rules, or do anything you don’t want to do.  But couldn’t we maybe just stay where we are for now?  We’re already friends.  And if that’s it, then it’s enough.  But what I’m thinking is, if you just let me hang out with you some more, you’ll see that I’ll keep on… not ripping your guts out.  And then you’ll get so used to me not ripping your guts out, pretty soon you’ll learn that I’m not going to.  You’ll forget you didn’t trust me.  And you’ll just start trusting me because… osmosis.”

“I don’t think that’s how osmosis works.”

“Shut up, Harvard.  It’s science.”    

He shook his head, chuffing just a little.  “Damn it, Laura…”

He reached for her and they held one another as best they could while sitting side by side.  

“I need time.  Probably a lot of time.  Can we just leave it at that for tonight?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she assured him.  “But can I say one more thing?”

“One.”

“That woman?  She was dead wrong.  About everything.  And if you let me, I’ll prove it to you.”

[1] Don’t crush my dreams.

[2] For God’s sake…

[frangipanidownunder]

Fic: Three times Scully buzzed Mulder and one time he buzzed her

Based on the vibrator/blobfish blooper. How many times did Scully startle Mulder with that vibe? NSFW at the end. Tagging @today-in-fic

i

She swore the first time it was an accident. Mulder wasn’t supposed to be there. He’d dropped by with a housewarming gift – a peace lily – to surprise her. She really didn’t need another dead plant on her conscience but there he stood at the entry, smiling up into the security camera, with a glazed white pot in one hand and a bottle of zinfandel in the other and that ‘how could you turn me away grin’ on his face. How could you turn him away?

           His ass looked fine in those skinny jeans as he walked through the apartment nodding here and peering there, approving of the gadgets, pressing all the buttons on the keypads and picking up every remote. Finally, he settled into her chair by the fireplace. Adele was playing in the background. Pizza was on its way anyway. Why not just go with the flow?

She sipped the wine as he yammered on about how some Reddit thread about fauna he’d jumped on had turned feral and she half wondered if the houseplant was a sign she’d missed or some kind of new euphemism. She chanced a Google, punctuating his ever wilder story with the occasional nod and ‘oh’. Urban Dictionary listed nothing for peace lily, but calla lily seemed to suggest a soft woman who was hot in bed. She tried to hide her cough of surprise but it caught his attention.

           “Bones in the wine, Scully?” The smile that spread across his face showed her just how much she missed casual evenings on that couch in their shitty little house. Now, she sat opposite him, regretting her choice of the two single-seaters. Everything seemed so clinical, so isolated. There was nothing to connect them.

Mulder carried on his lurid tale and she looked at her phone to see the street definition of houseplant. An antisocial guy who ignores his girlfriend. She took a large sip of wine and hit the back button. A buzz. A yelp. And Mulder leapt up.

“What the fuck was that?”

Her phone clattered to the floor as she stood up too. The buzzing continued, muffled but insistent. He pulled up the cushions and she sucked in a horrified breath. Fuck. His long fingers wrapped around its pink girth and her cheeks flushed a complementary shade. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Oh my, Scully. One is the loneliest number,” he said, holding up the Je Joue.

ii

If the office was a trusty old friend, motels were the two-faced bitch who’d draw you in for a hug then snap at you for being overly familiar. Adjoining rooms, sounds of Mulder murmuring. Was he on his cell, talking to real people or vocally admiring internet porn? She messaged him.

           Take out?

           Eat out?

           Wtf?

           Lol.

           Don’t lol me Mulder.

           You wtf’d me, Scully. I can lol you if I want.

           You said you wanted to eat me out.

           “There’s no way I would be that crude, Scully.” His real voice was always a honeyed surprise. She shivered despite herself as he walked through the door.

           “Make yourself at home,” she said, as he lounged on her bed.

           “Besides, if I wanted to do that, I’d ask you properly.”

           “And, pray tell,” she said, sitting next to him and relishing the dip in the mattress that meant their thighs slid together. “What is the proper way to ask to eat someone out?”

           He took her cell from her hands and smiled that lazy, arrogant, sexy grin. Before he could answer, a buzz. A yelp. A guttural groan and he pushed his hand under his ass.

           “The fuck, Scully?” He whipped out the vibe. Her skin burned. He held it up to the light, inspecting it. Her breath left her body. “You love this thing, don’t you?”

           “Mulder…”

           “You take it everywhere, it gets to sit on the couch with you, you take it to bed with you…”

           “You make it sound like a pet.”

           He shrugged. “I was going to say boyfriend, but whatever floats your boat, Scully.”

           There was a magic moment of silence, weighted, where she waited for his next jibe but it didn’t come. He simply slipped the vibe back under his legs and she heard his lips pop open. He picked up her cell. “What do I press, Scully?”

 iii

Her apartment was toast. Burnt out. The smell of smoke lasted longer than the sadness she felt at saying goodbye. The living had been Spartan, cool, short-term. Their house was more shabby than chic but she felt its warm welcome as she walked up the steps and pulled open the fly wire. Mulder had cleaned up. Kind of. There was less clutter on the shelves, only a small pile of magazines on the side tables, the fridge was newly stocked, the kitchen cupboards reasonably full. And there was always something comforting about the way Mulder used the staircase as a library. In fact, the smell of knowledge always left her feeling a little horny.

           He helped her with her bags, standing them on the landing between the main bedroom and the spare. There were more piles of books, pushed against the walls between the doors. She liked to think of it as a bridge of words, connecting their minds.

           “I think it’s too early,” she said, watching him deflate a little.

           He took the bags into the spare and stood in the doorway, arms folded. “Thank you for choosing chez Mulder,” he said.

           She indulged him with a genuine smile. “I’ve heard the hospitality is second to none.”

           “The spare room has a particular vibe…I’ll let you get settled in.”

           His hand was a familiar weight in her hand. “Help me unpack?”

           He folded, tucked, hung and layered without a word. There was one small bag left, a Maine holdall that reminded her of killer dolls and mass hysteria. Crazy times when inanimate objects took on a life of their own. She tipped it upside down on the bed, contents rolling out haphazardly. Mulder sat, sending the contents rolling side to side. Her phone sparked to life in her hip pocket and she fished it out, walking to the landing to answer. The connection was hinky and she paced to find the best spot.

           Bill took too much of her time with family stuff and preaching, and by the time she opened the door again, Mulder was lying across the bed, on his side, face covered in a silk slip she hadn’t worn since forever but couldn’t part with. She imagined the smell of that item to him was comparable to his books to her. Memories, skin, romantic nostalgia.

Climbing behind him, she draped an arm over his and he pulled her hand to his, tucking it between his legs. A buzz, a low growl and she felt him flinch and twitch.

           “I was hoping you’d do that,” he hissed as the vibration continued. “I swear, Scully, if you ever find out how to properly control this thing, it’ll be such a downer.”

iv

It would be a cold day in hell when she’d eat sushi again. And as for blobfish? Never again. Mulder shook his head and grabbed her hand, hurrying them out of the restaurant.

           “We’re out of here,” he said, wrapping her jacket round her shoulders. The air was fresh. But the company was warm. Mulder was home. It didn’t matter where the physical location was, as long as he was there, it was a welcome place. It had taken her 25 years to realise it, but she had now and driving up the gravel path to their home, uneven roof, holey fly wires, splintered steps, Ikea furnishings, nothing else mattered other than his presence by her side.

           Her clothes might have hung in the wardrobe next door, but her heart hung over the bed in the main room. She luxuriated in the Egyptian cotton comfort while Mulder cleaned his teeth. The night was ink-dark and the soft golden pool of light from the bedside lamp spilled warmth over her side of the bed. His smile was as promising.

           “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

           “It’s a marvellous night for a moon dance,” she said, pulling back the sheets.

           “Is that a euphemism?”

           “Call it what you will, Mulder.” He was warm and pliant in her arms, kissing her with familiar passion.

           Divesting themselves of clothes took no time and skin-to-skin, she wrapped her leg over his hips and ground herself against him. They fitted together perfectly. Always had. It felt so good, sparking waves of pleasure from the inside out. He mumbled into her neck and her nipples stood on end.

           “There’s something I want to do for you, Scully.”

           She imagined his head between her legs, bristled chin chafing her thighs and a flush of liquid pooled at her centre. But instead, he reached over her and fumbled in the drawer.

           “I think we’re a little beyond needing protection, Mulder.”

           He chuckled and rolled her onto her back. “No barriers, Scully.”

           “What is it?”

           A buzz. A deep, resonant hum. And she couldn’t tell if it was the vibe or her. He pressed it to her and she parted her legs with a deep sigh. His breath poured over her, warming her chin, neck, chest, before his lips found a nipple and at once she purred, pulsated. His insistent massaging played in rhythm to his licking and sucking and she was about ready to implode.

           “Fuck, Mulder. This is unbearable.”

           “Tell me what you want, Scully.”

           She couldn’t put the words together as he pressed the vibe against her clit. No matter how many different ways she played with this thing, there was no beating the confident hand of the man she loved. She bucked up to meet it, heels digging into the mattress. Wet heat escaped her and his cock leaked against her thigh. “I want you to fuck me. Just you. In me. Now.”

           It was a whirlwind of skin and slickness and thrusting and bumping. He pounded and she pushed up, she groaned and he bit, he pulled her arms above her head, she shifted her feet to his shoulders, he knelt and she screamed. Stars burst behind her eyes. It took a long time to come down and when she finally did, she heard the buzz and the whirr and then the crash of deafening silence as the Je Joue fell to the floor.

           “I think we broke it,” Mulder said, half-laughing. “How will you survive without it?”

           She pushed his fingers against her still pulsating clit. “I think I’ll cope.”