#crazy said COMPLIMENTARY style

[monsterbisexual]

i love the s*lt v*rses cuz after every episode i finish im like holy fuck that was thee craziest shit everrrrrr!!!!!!! brain = rewired bitch!!

n then i listen to another n i say those exact things again n its always true

[avatar-saiki]

What's Cookin' Good Lookin'

Mammon/Reader, 3.2k words

Summary: NSFW 18+

The scenario my thirsty ass came up with was Mammon takes you out on a fancy date to Ristorante Six and you suck his dick under the table.

That's it.

That's all this is <3

You couldn’t help smiling to yourself, looking in the mirror and checking your hair for the umpteenth time, making sure everything was in place. Ristorante Six might not normally be your style, but a date was a date and it’d been ages since you’d seen Mammon. And if he was going to treat you? The Avatar of Greed? Well, you’d be crazy not to take him up on it.

Especially after it’d been nearly three whole weeks of interruptions. Every time the two of you would finally seem to meet, a witch’s summons would pull him away. The timing was getting so suspicious, you’d almost been tempted enough to send Satan to investigate if they were trying to sabotage you on purpose.

Luckily, though, when your D.D.D. began to dance its happy little shuffle one afternoon you’d come to find he was finally free to be yours once more.

You turned your face side to side, eyes alight with delight. Your first date in nearly a month. Was it weird to be a little… excited? Nervous, even?

The butterflies in your stomach seemed keen on helping you find that answer. First they started to flutter when you stepped outside to find him leaning against the hood of his Demonio 666, then again when he flashed you that devilish grin and opened the car door. They really began to stir when his hand rested on your thigh so casually while he drove, stroking you with his thumb. Somehow they even seemed to make their way down your legs once you’d arrived, the valet happily helping you to your feet while Mammon waited to guide you inside.

Yeah.

This place was definitely not your usual style.

“You look good,” Mammon said after you took his elbow, eyes roaming over your figure with an appraising smile. “Clean up real nice.”

“Shush,” you muttered, embarrassed and maybe a little too grateful to have him for support. “You know fancy stuff makes me feel awkward.”

He laughed and led you through the doors, the host already prepared for his arrival and leading you to your table. Normally when you’d come here, you’d dine on the main floor, but this time the host led you upstairs. Here were a few of the more premium tables, complete with a complimentary bottle of Demonus and champagne imported from the human world. While the tables were few, the view was extravagant, allowing diners to admire the eerie glow of the Devildom’s moons in the star-spattered sky above through large windows set within the stone walls.

“O-Oh…” you breathed once you reached the top of the stairs. You’d brought your wallet just in case, not knowing just how much his jobs had drained him but… this… this looked like more than…

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, squeezing your hand before coaxing you to walk toward the table where the host waited to seat you. “I got it covered.”

“But—”

He squeezed your hand again, then left you to take his own seat while the host sat you down and pushed the chair in, then set a few menus on the table and offered to list the specials for the evening. He was patient, calm… cool and collected. You couldn’t help peeking at the menu while they rambled on about a dry-aged devilwood smoked steak and your heart sank.

There were no prices listed.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, and the host paused mid-ramble and glanced at you with a raised brow.

“O-Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, shutting the menu while Mammon chuckled from across the table. “Please continue.”

“Right…” He cleared his throat and puffed out his chest. “As I was saying, our last special is a pan-seared hellibut finished off with a Demonus reduction and served with a medley of seasonal vegetables from our garden.”

“Sounds great,” Mammon said, reaching for the bottle of Demonus, but the host stopped him and poured him a glass instead, then did the same for you with the champagne.

“I’ll give you two a moment to review the menu, your server should be by shortly,” he said, setting the bottle down and sliding both glasses to you and Mammon respectively. “Please let us know if you need anything else.”

Once he was halfway down the stairs, you leaned over the table to look at Mammon who was nonchalantly swirling the Demonus in his glass before taking a sip.

“Mammon,” you whispered, “this seems way fancier than usual.”

He chuckled and opened the menu, reading over the options. “Yeah, they really like to roll out the red carpet for the premium tables don’t they?”

You stared at him. “Mammon, there’s no way I can afford all this.”

He glanced up, golden blue eyes flashing with a hint of mischief. “I already told ya I got it covered, don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, but—” you fidgeted in your seat, then sighed. Worst case he might have to work off the bill with a few shifts, nothing out of the ordinary there. And... Well, knowing yourself well enough you’d be right there with him. At least that wouldn’t be so bad, he made anything fun.

But it was still daunting not even knowing just how much you were spending.

His smile was cute though… he seemed genuinely excited to spoil you tonight…

The menu had so many items that sounded luxurious, and you picked something that had mostly familiar sounding ingredients in it, things you’d seen added to foods Satan cooked at home, and Mammon added on an appetizer and winked at you, mentioning you may want dessert later too. The butterflies began to dance again, though their nervous song carried a different tune until the first dishes were brought out. Everything smelled so good, but tasted absolutely divine. 

Mammon glanced up at you when you moaned in delight, the savory stuff devishrooms practically melting on your tongue.

“S’it good?” he asked with a smirk, and you covered your mouth to hide your chewing.

“Sh’o good,” you hummed, pleased.

He chuckled and popped one in his mouth, nodding in agreement before taking another sip of Demonus. “Told ya it’d be worth it.”

You rolled your eyes, “I never said it wouldn’t be, I’m just worried about the bill at the end.”

He laughed, “Y’know, normally I’m happy to let you cover the bill, but,” he winked, knowing you’d scoff, “sometimes I wanna treat ya.”

“It just seems… like a lot for a random date. It’s not like we’re celebrating anything.”

“No, but,” he shrugged, “why do we gotta have something to celebrate? Can’t I splurge a little now and then?”

“You can do whatever you want if you have the money for it,” you muttered, picking up the glass of champagne and he grinned, raising his own.

“Exactly~ so quit fussin’ and enjoy the night with me, would ya?”

You chewed your lip, then sighed and clinked your glass to his. “Fine, fuck it. Spoil me to your heart’s content, Mammon.”

He laughed and leaned back to finish his glass. “That’s my human~”

You blushed, maybe enjoying that a bit more than you’d care to admit. 

Soon the appetizers were cleared away and the entrees were brought out, even more delicious the the plates before. Mammon was more than happy to keep the champagne flowing too, teasing you that the bottle was already paid for so you may as well help yourself.

And boy, did you help yourself.

A healthy buzz was a perfect compliment to such a meal, every bite a delectable treat. And the demon sat across from you… 

Your fork clattered to the floor and you cursed, leaning over to pick it up. 

“Language~” he teased, and you rolled your eyes, reaching for it but the stupid thing had fallen just out of your reach.

“Ugh, shut up,” you muttered, sliding off your seat to pick it up.

He laughed, “Y’know I’ve cursed people for less~ you’re lucky I put up with ya.”

Again you rolled your eyes, putting the fork on the table but still kneeling on the floor. The sudden movement made… the buzz feel a teeny bit more than you’d expected. Just a touch dizzy, but at least the floor wasn’t tilting.

“Oh yeah?” You tried to peek over the table at him, but couldn’t see much of his face so you lifted the table cloth to speak to his knees instead. “Is that a threat?”

“Nah…” He spread his legs, slouching back comfortably. “Just makin’ conversation.”

Cheeky.

You crawled under the table to pinch his ankle, making him jump in surprise.

“O-Oi! What’re you doin’?”

You grinned and crawled closer, untying one of his shoes. “Just messing with the Great Mammon. What’re you gonna do about it?”

“Quit it,” he said, nudging you with his foot. “An’ get up, would ya?”

You giggled under your breath, half tempted to try and tie his laces together but his feet were too far apart. Ah well, some minor mischief was better than none at all. You turned to crawl back out, but…

But it had been a while since you two had…

You bit your lip.

Tripping him wasn’t really your style.

But teasing him definitely was.

“I can’t,” you pouted, reaching for his leg and holding around his calf. “I think I’m lost.”

“Lost?” He shifted as if to look for you but the tablecloth hung too low. “Ya just went under the table. C’mon quit playin’ dumb.”

You giggled again and scooted closer, resting your chin on his knee. “Nope, can’t do it. Too dark down here.”

He wiggled his leg to shake you off. “You seem to be findin’ me just fine.”

Busted.

You hugged around his leg with one arm, and held his knee with your free hand. “Mm… nope. Can’t see. Just going by feeling~”

“Well then, just—”

He’d started to lift the cloth, but dropped it as your hand drifted up his leg, fingers gliding smoothly over the Devildom’s finest of silks.

“H-Hey, don’t… don’t do that…” He said, voice dropping ever so subtly. 

Ah… right… 

He was buzzed too.

“I missed you,” you whispered, stroking up and down his thigh while resting your cheek on his knee. “Did you miss me?”

His legs spread ever so slightly.

“You know I did.”

You smiled, turning your attentions more to his inner thigh, teasingly reaching up higher with every stroke. “Did you really?”

His free leg began to bounce just a little, and he fidgeted in his seat.

“C-Come outta there before someone sees you’re gone.”

“Mm… could say I went to the bathroom…” you nuzzled your cheek to his knee, letting your hand glide up further and massage a slow circle just shy of where you wanted to touch him most. “You know… I missed you too…”

He wheezed out a soft laugh, leg bouncing more and you could see the bulge beginning to form more prominently, tempting you…

“Y-Yeah?” he whispered, “How much?”

“So much,” you cooed, gliding your fingers across his lap, feeling for his length and oh how delightful to find it was starting to grow already. 

He shifted to lean back again, his hand reaching down to catch yours. “Later,” he murmured. “We got all night.”

Normally you’d agree, but right now?

Right now you wanted to try something you’d never done before.

“Aw, but didn’t you say you wanted to spoil me?” you pouted, touching your palm to his cock and rubbing him through his pants. “Give me anything I want tonight?”

“Y-Yeah, but…” he groaned under his breath, “can’t ya wait? I already got us a room at—”

Your fingers hooked around his belt, deftly unbuckling it while you nuzzled higher up his thigh. “Can’t I have a little dessert now? Just a taste?”

This time he gave you a more pointed nudge, nearly knocking you off his leg.

“Later,” he said and you sighed, tugging at his zipper.

“I could be quick… well…” you grinned, slipping your hand into his pants to feel him. “I could finish you quick~”

He groaned under his breath, slouching further in his seat.

“All… All right, just… just don’t leave me hangin’”

A rush of thrill danced in your stomach, and you sidled closer, reaching up to tug at his boxers. “Really? Can I?”

“Y-yeah, just…” You could hear him pick up his fork again, presumably to act casual. “Just be quick.”

Delighted, you pulled his boxers down, gently freeing his cock and holding it in one hand. He was so warm, his length still a little soft but…

Thrill mixed with pride at how quickly that was changing under your touch.

“Mm~” you pressed your lips to the side, just below the head. “Thank you, Mammon~”

He groaned again, knife scraping against his plate. “Don’t tease,” he muttered under his breath.

As if you’d do anything else~

You kissed along his length, stroking him gently until he was fully erect, the warmth and feel of him pulsing against your lips making you ache with need. It’d been so long, too long… and his sweet hushed breaths from above when you nuzzled into him were absolute bliss~

“You… really like my c- mm~” He grunted, the table rattling when you pressed your tongue against him, slowly dragging it up his length and savoring the taste of his head.

“Mhm~” you hummed, suckling against his length again to tease him, stroking him steadily and swiping away pre-cum with your thumb. “I do~”

He groaned again, and shifted in his seat, leaning forward against the table.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he muttered quietly and you chuckled.

“I haven’t even started yet~”

“Yeah, that’s why it’s— hhhhn—”

You licked up his length again, letting the head roll around your tongue while you sighed over him. So soft. You closed your eyes and cupped your lips around the head, suckling while rolling your tongue around, his unsteady breathing making your insides stir for more.

Perhaps he’d begun to influence you more than you’d realized.

With a smile at the thought, you began to take him in, breathing through your nose and lovingly following your hand as you swallowed him down. Just a little for now, enough to tease him with the promise of more, your tongue guiding him up to press along your palate. You paused, breathing in deeply through your nose while you relaxed your throat, preparing to take him deeper when—

He tensed abruptly, kicking you again.

“How is everything? Are you enjoying your meal?” The server asked, and you paused.

“It’s great,” he said, voice surprisingly calm. “Everything’s been great, thanks.”

“Happy to hear it, can I get you anything else? Would you be interested in a dessert menu?”

“Uh…” he paused to give it some thought, “No, I think we’re good.”

“Are you sure? Would you like me to come back when your date is here to confirm?”

“No, that’s alright. The bill would be great.”

You couldn’t help smiling around him. Switching from flustered to so calm just like that? Impressive~ no wonder he could charm his way around a poker table. 

“All right, I’ll be back.” The sound of plates and silverware clinking sounded above, and you took the opportunity to swallow him down.

“Thank y- you,” he said with a grunt, subtly trying to kick you again while you chuckled around his cock.

The server must’ve left shortly after, because he reached down to grab the back of your head.

“You better finish now before the check comes.”

You smiled around him.

As if you needed a challenge.

Invigorated by the back note of neediness in his voice, you closed your eyes and focused on breathing deep through your nose, losing yourself to the rhythm of feeling him on your tongue. The low cusses that sounded above your head. The feel of him holding you close, gently pulling you in with every bob, almost tentatively so… as if he worried you might retreat if he pushed too much.

It was sweet… but… 

He was forgetting just how much your ego came into play.

You cupped his balls and slowly lifted your head, holding just the tip in your mouth while you held him, lazily rolling him around your tongue with a thoughtful hum. He groaned above you, whispering under his breath.

“Please… if you keep teasing I… I don’t know if I’ll…”

You hummed again, answering him with a steady stroke. His fingers twitched against the back of your head, pushing you to take more of him in again.

Always so greedy~

Inhaling a deep breath through your nose, you kissed your lips to your fingers, using both to stroke his cock, working him up in a faster pace as you felt him harden even further in your care.

“Th… That’s it…” he whispered, using his hand to guide you even more, his hips twitching ever so slightly.

Such a shame he couldn’t move too much or it’d draw attention~

“O-Oh… fuck…” he groaned, pulling you in closer. “J-Just… faster. Go faster.”

You hummed softly, focusing on moving your hand instead, his cock so thick your jaw was beginning to get a little sore.

Just a little more~

His gentle pants were like music to your ears, stirring a lustful sense of pride in your heart that tickled all the way down to your belly.

“P-Please…” He whined, “Don’t… don’t stop…I—”

You pressed the flat of your tongue just below the head, moaning in bliss when the first taste of salt hit followed by a warmth that only filled you with that perverse sense of pride in knowing you were who swallowed him down. His thighs went tense, whines straggled in his throat as he made great effort to keep himself back.

Next time you’d just have to work a little harder to see him really lose control.

You lingered a moment longer, slowing your strokes and gently popping off with a satisfied sigh. “That was fun~” you murmured, giving him one last little kiss before helping him pull up his pants. “Thanks, Mammon~”

He reached down to zip up his pants and buckle his belt, muttering under his breath. “You’re lucky there ain’t anyone in the table closest to us right now… pretty sure at least someone’s onto us.”

You laughed softly, “Aw shoot~ and you tried so hard to be quiet.” 

“Yeah, no thanks to you!”

You laughed again and lifted the tablecloth to peer up at him, face flush with a flustered grin on his face. “Am I really not even gonna get a thank you for that?”

His eyes flashed in gold, grin glinting with a greedy light that sent your heart soaring.

“Oh… you’ll get it,” he murmured, reaching down to cup your chin, his voice rolling in a low, husky tone.

“Just you wait, treasure.”

Whether it be demonic charms or the confidence that only the Avatar of Greed himself could exude, you couldn’t resist tilting your cheek into his palm, playing into that possessive love you adored so much.

“That a promise, love?”

Another flash of gold sparked in his eyes, and his thumb caressed your bottom lip.

“You know it is… you’ll be gettin’ everything you want tonight and more, until you can’t possibly want anything else.”

You bit the tip of his thumb with a coy smile.

“Sounds perfect~”

[tikiki05]

You know what's funny to me? There are Spider-Gwen/Ghost-Spider fans who use variant art comic book covers of Miles and Gwen to taunt fans who don't like Ghostflower. They genuinely believe that those variant comic covers show that Marvel prefers Miles and Gwen together over Miles with anyone else. But they don't seem to realize that most if not all of the Ghostflower cover variants are RETAILER EXCLUSIVES made and paid for/commissioned usually by Unknown Comics, 616 Comics or Big Time Collectibles, they are NOT FORMAL comic cover variants put out by Marvel, which is why they appear no where in Marvel's marketing.

Unknown Comics, 616 Comics, Big Time Collectibles and others create and pay for their own comic cover variants with different art from popular artists. Unknown Comics, 616 Comics, Big Time Collectibles do not have have the highest reputations. They commission art based on fads as cash grabs to take advantage of people who think the covers are official or valuable, and to meet niche interests of their customer bases. Gwen Stacy as both regular Gwen Stacy and Spider-Gwen Stacy is a character that some fans regularly sexualize along with Felicia/Black Cat and MJ. Big Time Collectibles has a whole mature covers section, and Unknown has done borderline fetish content and will often do two different versions of the same cover with Gwen for both Miles and Peter content, earlier this year they even did a variant cover that had Gwen wearing Peter's suit and one where she wore Miles's suit. Neither were formal Marvel covers. Sometimes there will be an official variant cover from Marvel of Miles doing something and one of the stores will pay the same artist from the official Marvel variant to make a complimentary cover that has Gwen in the same art style or area. These stores will also commission different modern takes on well known popular official Marvel covers.

When Marvel has done official variant covers with Miles and Gwen, they have usually been done based around promotion of spiderverse. One exception was when a couple months ago they had them in disco gear together to promote both the upcoming Dazzler (a musician) comic and raise awareness for Gwen who had a new comic released.

What is extra special crazy though and what has led to this post is Ghostflower fanatics will use select retailer exclusives, aka overpriced commissioned fan art, to justify being absolute weirdos over Miles's canon girlfriends, especially Starling, who they're super duper pressed over because she is the definite love interest for comic Miles (side note - Spider-Gwen Stacy fans really seem to hate Black women and Black women characters and have said some absolutely wild things about both, which makes sense given the racist reaction to Miles. If Miles had to deal with racism as a character of course there will be people who are not going to want to see Black woman characters flourish and this is a main reason why I can't stand online Spider-Gwen fans or the Ghostflower ship, the racism from them is gross. It might seem like they aren't racist because they "like" Miles but they only see Miles as a means to an end for Spider-Gwen to get clout, that's it. They treat Miles like he's a secondary character in his story, hate characters like Spiderbyte and celebrate any ship Miles is in that doesn't involve Black women. They make any excuse for their hatred of Black women characters, claiming that it's because a character isn't "well written or developed", but then will love actually poorly written potential nonblack love interests).

Ghostflower shippers have convinced themselves that RETAILER EXCLUSIVES are evidence that Marvel considers Starling as just a placeholder until BTSV releases, and then Gwen will take her place in the comics as Miles's official love interest and Starling will be killed off or kicked out. They brag that Marvel knows that the real money lies with Ghostflower and that's why Marvel keeps making Ghostflower variants, but this is dumb as hell because again, most of the Ghostflower variants are not even official variants released by Marvel. They blatantly ignore that Starling has been on a bunch of official Marvel covers for Miles's comics as well as official Marvel comic variant covers, which is better than being on a bunch of borderline and outright fan fetish content for informal retailer exclusives. And they definitely ignore that Gwen has not appeared in or been talked about in Miles's comics before OR AFTER 2016, which is when Sitting in a Tree happened, yet Spider-Gwen Stacy fans act as if she's his main love interest. And this level of delulu is reason #2 why I am not a fan of Ghostflower and most Ghostflower people.

Ho, ly, crap! This was utterly fascinating to read! Thank you so freaking much for sending this in! I really know nothing when it comes to the comics, so this really clears up a lot for me!

I’ve definitely seen some of the comic covers you mentioned here, mainly via pinterest, and it definitely confused me.

Granted, I haven’t been in a whole lot of other fandoms, but I can’t recall a time I ever heard about a ship specifically having this horrid and this racist of a fan base, it’s insane! Especially when as I’ve talked about before, spider-verse Gwen and Miles aren’t even narratively properly set up for a romance! Slow burn where?? And even if they were, they’re just such a bland pairing to me, like I’m sorry 😭 I am so sick of seeing punk girls paired with average casual kinda guys, especially when Chris Miller and Phil Lord have BEEN DOING THIS in their projects! ie, Lego Movie and Clone High. Hell, Clone High is literally a parody of teen drama and love stories, and Joan and Abe literally do it better than Gwen and Miles! In my opinion. They put a chick in it and make her lame and gay :/

Thanks again for the ask and the insight/knowledge! I hope you have a beautiful day on this fine Miguel O’Hara birthday <3

[fromtenthousandfeet]

were you a jimin fan at some point? or am i misremembering?

I am definitely a Jimin fan. I think he's a rare talent and I sincerely hope he can escape the clutches of HYBE and go to a label that will nurture his talent and support his career properly.

Lots of people like to compare Jimin to Michael Jackson, but I think it's more apt to compare him to Madonna. Yes, she's super creepy these days, but at the height of her career, she was a cultural phenomenon and a style icon. Like Jimin, she started out as a dancer, and like Jimin, she left her dance studies to make it big (she dropped out of the University of Michigan and moved to New York City). She was full of ambition, fresh ideas, and an incredible work ethic. Michael Jackson, on the other hand, had no control over the trajectory of his young life in the music industry because it was all his parents' doing. And to be honest, despite his massive fame and success, his life was mired in controversy. Young people only seem to know about MJ as The King of Pop, but I don't think they realize the way he was ruthlessly hounded by the press - especially the tabloids. And to be honest, it was hard to keep up with some of his bizarre behaviors and his concerning obsession with plastic surgery. Was he a pedophile? Was he framed for money? Who knows, but I wouldn't wish Michael Jackson's life on anybody. I'm grateful for his incredible talent and the music/dance legacy he left, but he didn't have an easy life.

Back in the early days of Amazon Prime Video - when there was absolutely nothing on there to watch - I found an unauthorized documentary about Madonna made by her former boyfriend/housemate/bandmate. He was actually incredibly complimentary of her. He explained that Madonna wanted to be in his band, so she taught herself to play the drums! She wrote her own music. And, he said, she was so driven that it quickly became clear she had outgrown the band, who were happy with just having some modest success in NY bars.

Long story short, I see so many similarities between Jimin and Madonna. They both have a background in dance that makes them incredible performers. I love to watch Jimin dance. He is such a unique talent. Do non-dancers understand this? As you watch him dance, it is impossible to differentiate the dancer from the dance. He IS the choreography. He conveys so much emotion in every movement and every facial expression.

Madonna would completely reinvent herself from one album to the next. Lucky Star Madonna was nothing like Material Girl Madonna, let alone Vogue Madonna. Jimin is the same. From Promise, to Lie, to Serendipity, to Like Crazy, to SMFpt2, to Who, you never know what to expect from Jimin, but you can be sure he's put his whole heart and effort into creating a work of art. I love that fans have no idea what to expect from him next.

I'm rooting for Jimin! I can't wait to see what he does once he's finished with his military service. And I'd love to see him soar as an unfettered solo artist, assuming that's what he wants to do.

[tepkunset]

Rating all* the Hellfire Gala 2023 Outfits in my Correct Opinion

*At least, all that I can find, because Marvel decided fuck making that easy in a little book or a single post like last year.

(Long post alert!)

Iceman, I love most of this look. The accented orange is perfect for the mostly blue look, and I love that he has a matching earring for his cuff-links. Such a nice touch! But those rubber boots, man... those rubber boots ruin it for me. 8/10

Fisk is giving off some Doctor Doom vibes with this outfit. I love the regalness of it, especially the golden leaves behind the ear. 9/10

??? I'm not sure who this is, but their outfit looks like they're going to a Halloween party rather than a gala. 3/10

Emma, oh my god, YES. Almost always delivering, and this is definitely one of those cases! 10/10

Xavier... I hate to say it, but I genuinely love this look. He's bringing major space man vibes, and it's super elegant at the same time. 9/10

Bishop doesn't even get points for effort. He got a red suit then slapped some belts on it. Boring as fuck. 1/10

I was about to write another "???" because I had no idea who this was, until it occurred to me that I think this is supposed to be Scarlet Witch? Except she is super duper whitewashed, so I did not even recognize her. Auto-failure regardless of the look. 0/10

Proteus looks moderately snazzy, but out of the Five is the least interesting in my opinion. 3/10

Egg has a cool coat, but those balls around his neck are way too big and awkward. 4/10

Hope looks a little like a fairy princess here, and I like that! 7/10

Tempus looks like she's going to a prom more than a gala, and I don't know what's going on with that giant shoulder piece. Did Cable lend it to her or something? 4/10

Elixir, my golden boy, is embracing the shiny and I love it! 9/10

Exodus seems to be trying out a new costume rather than a gala look, but in terms of style, it's fine. 5/10

Vision's outfit is as boring as he is. 1/10

Miles, holy shit. Miles should be giving lessons to everyone else on how to actually make a suit look unique! Bishop, take notes. 9/10

Old Laura looks like she's dressed for a gothic funeral more than a gala, but at least that's to her style rather than some crazy OOC look. So, points for that. 5/10

T'Challa... I. Am. Swooning. I know he's not a king right now but damn does he ever look like it in this outfit. The beautiful patterns and complimentary colours, holy shit. 10/10

Synch has certainly done way better in the past. It's just a plain black suit without a shirt, for fuck sake. 2/10

Captain Marvel looks like she's a marching bad, lol. The stars in the hair are a nice touch, though. 3/10

Jean's look is, I know, divisive. I've seen some people say they adore this design, and some people say they hate it. I'm personally on the fence. I think it would be better without the stupid helmet, that's for sure. And I think it looks a little too much like an Emma Frost design, if you were to just colour it white. 5/10

Fantomex? Where the fuck have you been? Anyway, he literally just looks like he always looks but with some sunglasses lmfao. 0/10

Dylan looks like a moody teen as ever, lol. I do like the black and white though. 6/10

Black Cat... Like I said, I like black and white together, but this is giving me too much Cruella de Vil vibes. 4/10

Mary Jane just picked up an evening gown off the rack I guess. 2/10

Firestar, I think? Not actually positive if it's her. Anyway, the sleeves are a bit too much for me, but I love the fiery frills on the cape. 5/10

Thor looks so ugly here lmfao I'm sorry but I hate this look. It's way too clunky. 0/10

At first I thought this was Kwannon, but then I remembered seeing panels and I believe it's Kitty/Kate. Anyway, I like the lace-up boots and I like the frills. 7/10

Hellcat looks like she's took some inspiration from a wrestler's pre-fight look, and I like that. It's simplistic but just enough stylish to pass. 6/10

Nova, going with a tits out look as well I see. I like the feathered shoulder pads, and I like the skirt. 6/10

Moon Knight, oh my god, I have a strong feeling it was Steven who pulled the strings to get a gala look, because there's no fucking way Marc or Jake would be caught dead there. Anyway, this is exactly the type of vibe I would expect from MK, maybe even a bit more playful than that with the mesh part of the top. And I really like it up until the strange boots. He and Iceman must've compared notes or something. Still, 8/10

Psylocke - now THIS is Kwannon for sure! I like the classical ninja meets evening gown look, and I like that she's sexy but not to the point of being objectified, which is a refreshing change for how artists often treat her. 8/10

Destiny and Mystique I will rate together because the score is the same: A what the fuck level of 0/10.

Forge looks fucking awesome, especially compared to last year. I love the fringe and the scarf and the jewellery and the cane... it's a complete look that gives me great vibes. 8/10

Cyclops, come on, man. You can do better than this, can't you? He looks like Mister Sinister dressed him or something. 1/10

Cuckoos look like they stepped off the set of Tron: Legacy. Or a Daft Punk concert. Not complaining to be clear, this look fucks. 10/10

[klonnieshippersclub]

Loved the Mikaelson ball dress and I saw that podcast video where Kat said she was styled differently than everyone else. Can you show examples of her bad style? How would you change it?

I love any excuse to use Pinterest, so thanks for this question. The fashion of tvd is really bad in general. Some of that is being a product of the late 2000s and early 2010s. However, the issues with Bonnie's costuming are unique to her. When you look at Elena and Caroline's clothes, they are meant to fit their bodies. Bonnie spends most of the show drowning in fabric and she is the only one dressed like a Disney Channel which is crazy because Bonnie is very petite and curvy unlike the others. They get to dress sexy and hot while putting Bonnie in sweatpants and colors where she can fade in with the background.

Bonnie’s fashion isn’t unique to her as a character. Elena gives simple, Caroline is preppy but Bonnie doesn’t have that. Bonnie’s dressed in layers and multiple patterns. Nothing that signifies who she is as a person. This is a problem. Bonnie is just as desirable as the other women. She deserves complimentary clothing that hugs her figure.

At the very least, the first season or so attempts to give Bonnie an earthy vibe. They fail to do so in a way that actually looks good. Flowy fabrics aren't supposed to suffocate bodies. I would dress Bonnie more like the collage pictures above. The "modest" fashion of Bonnie just pushes the narrative that Bonnie is asexual. She doesn't get to be sexy or have a healthy sex life. She gets to lose her virginity to her cheating boyfriend in season FIVE, while being passed through. Why doesn't Bonnie get to be sexy? Why doesn't she get to enjoy sex? Her fashion is connected to the show's poor storytelling.

Season 6 Bonnie started to wear more fitting clothes. It wasn’t on par with the 90s closely. But the inspiration was there. I can see Bonnie during her college years wearing more midriffs, fitted jeans, things that build her confidence up and gives her body some flare after a year in isolation. In the prison world she would’ve had more time to decide what works for her and what doesn’t. No more baggy t-shirts, and sweatpants all day remaining unseen. Bonnie isn't seen as an equal with her costuming in tvd but these changes would fix that.

[celticcrossanon]

Dear Celta, what a collaboration you’ve had with @ladykinrannoch you’re very complimentary to each others style of tarot reading. Something came up in the last day or so as to what Harry might be holding over Camilla/Charles. Feel free to not post this ask, as it’s just my ruminations and it may just be a wild conspiracy theory.

In considering how William feels about the press I made a post yesterday about how William came to distrust the media. In casting back into the past I recalled the forged financial statement, and the lie that was told to Diana that William was wearing a watch with a listening device. A huge question came up. WHO would have so much influence that they would convince a staff member off the BBC that Diana would be susceptible to these lies. WHO had that much influence that they would bring this to bear, to bring this level of malevolence to the Princess of Wales. To push her over the edge in such a personal, cruel and sadistic manner??? I remember that the BBC laid the blame squarely at Martin Brasheer’s feet and closed the investigation down without delving into the source of the forgery. Oh Brasheer was that creative and instinctively knew she would fall for this. But the more I think about the more I see a possible influence there.

Also Harry was living at Highgrove when William went to uni. So he was on his own with C&C. Is it possible that he overheard them speaking about the BBC and Martin Brasheer interview in a totally different way? Did they reveal themselves in a certain conversation that Harry overheard??? Is this the source of the blackmail?

Remember the Queen was wise, she knew a divorce would weaken the monarchy, and she didn’t have any constructive advice for Diana about her marriage since she herself couldn’t control Charles. Is it possible that C&C colluded with the BBC to concoct this false story with the aim of making Diana look crazy and paranoid. The lies did convince her to give that infamous interview which started the ball rolling towards her death in Paris. It started a chain of events which culminated in that car crash in Paris.

Diana refused the Queen’s offer of Ravec security after the divorce. At a minimum she would have had a sober driver. I bet they didn’t foresee how this would tragically play out.

Both you and Lady K’s readings were very clear, it had to do with C&C ‘s marriage, or origin of marriage. Harry is dumb, he’s no constitutional expert, he couldn’t possibly know the ins and out of a Catholic and Anglican divorce and marriage in relation to the monarchy and being head of the church. But he is cunning, and he may have realized later on what it is he heard especially years later after Martin Brasheer took the fall for the BBC. In the 90s both Charles and Camilla together, and Diana separately were involving the press in their war with each other. It just came out recently in a book this year that Camilla was in weekly contact with this journalist, so she also may have been needling Diana in the press, separately from Charles.

If this resonates with you, please consider asking your cards who influenced the BBC to go down this road with Diana. Who gave them the ideas of the forged financial statements and the William watch lie. Imagine the cruelty of such a lie, it looks very personal to me.

Thanks for reading my screed Celta.

Hi AnonymousRetired,

Thank you for the kind words about the duet reading. I appreciate them very much.

I do want to look more into that reading and what came out of it, but it won't be tonight - I am just too tired.

You raise very valid points about the Panorama interview. The forged statement may have been all from Bashir, or other people may have been involved. There was no investigation so it is likely that we shall never know.

I can believe Charles and Camilla firing shots at Diana through the press. The whole time period of the four year separation and divorce was horrible in terms of what was revealed and was was said in the papers.

I will add the tarot reading to my list and consider it when I have more energy. :) Thank you for sharing your theories with me. I always like hearing what other people have to say.

[therx27]

Interview with joie blaney of Rx27

R27 – Art Punk Glam Goth Band from Los Angeles made up of outcasts and misfits. . Songs about the darker side of life and how to get out alive

Interview on September 19, 2020

By Dan Locke

Rx27 is an up and coming goth punk band from los Angeles with 2 lead singers Their music is for people who feel that this world is not enough. With true to life lyrics and catchy hooks Rx27 paint an honest picture of life in these troubling times.

What is your upbringing?

Joie x Blaney: It was pretty strict. Very family orientated. I was more or less the black sheep or the weird one.

How did you discover music?

My family had some records that I would listen to. The 2 main records I loved was Johnny Cash live from Folsom and Johnathan Livingston seagull. I played them whenever I could. Also, Barry Manilow and other weird records.

How did you start to write music?

I wrote poetry when I was younger. I kept them hidden from the world. It was my way of rebelling from everything. Freedom is in the creative imagination. I helped writing songs in previous bands as a bass player. That was my main instrument. Until I met this guy cranford nix who was a punk rock legend who wrote fantastic songs. I wrote some with him and he said joie you write great songs you should write some. There is a song floating around that I wrote and sang with him playing guitar. He has since passed away. But he was the first person that actually said to me. I should write songs. I respected him as a writer and a musician. We had some wild and crazy times. Wrote some great songs over the years playing music together. Everyone should check him out.

What was your first performance at like?

It was in a parking lot with a really bad band. It was mostly covering nobody in my high school really thought of me as a musician so I would travel to other high schools and play music with them. I was a loner misfit that never fit in in school or in life. It’s that way everywhere I go. I don’t want to not fit in but I don’t have the same feelings about life as most. I have a curiosity for life. Never cared what others thought for real and always wanted to play music. I live and breathe songwriting. I need to do it. It’s like eating but better. All the songs that I have written are about how I look at life or what I have experienced. Hopes dreams and fears always go into the song. Relationships love and the breakup always make up a song. Not everything I have written is great but it’s honest. I just like to write. And with a writing partner like Thad Coleman it makes it so much more fun. He is a great writer he has a style and a way of writing that is very complimentary to mine. Plus, we are dead honest with each other. We tell each other the truth about what we think of each other’s idea. Because it’s about the each other’s song not the writer.

What makes a good songwriter?

Honesty is the key to great songwriting. Lyrically and musically. They need to fit and be sharpened. We write songs on acoustic guitars. And we rewrite and rewrite and work on them until the song tells us it’s done. Delaying gratification and writing what feels good. I don’t understand these pop stars that have 15 writers. The narrative gets lost and it is more like fast food songwriting. I like writers like Dylan, Cohen Kristofferson. They are mostly acoustic folk writers. But they know the craft. stiv Bators was a great writer. Thunders was a great writer. Steve Jones from the pistols was a great writer. Working with Rikk Agnew from Christian Death was awesome. To write smart punk or emotional goth isn’t done that often or that well. I don’t like labels but that’s what they call us. We got called cool scuzzy death rock I will take that. All I know we are writing what we see and how we feel. I don’t wanna follow trends or jump on a bandwagon. Or write a cool vibe song. I want to write songs that have a universal appeal that speak to an audience that gets it. So far, a handful of critics like it and that’s cool. We are just writing for us and what we like.

How did you get the band together?

A mutual friend introduced me with to bass player thad Coleman. He had an acoustic guitar and we played songs the whole afternoon. I went to see him play bass in another band and just hang out. Found out we had a lot in common and our values of songwriting were similar. He knew 2 guys and we got together and wrote and demoed some songs. Fired a drummer got a new one played a couple shows got rid of a guitar player. Had our friend the dust warrior come in to play on the recordings. Found maxine through a friend of a friend and loved her voice. Went through a lot of people to find who we have right now. The core of the band has always been thad and myself. We write a lot of stuff and trust each other. We both are really committed to what we are doing. It doesn’t really matter if there is a pandemic or earthquake. We are always writing and rewriting. Right now, we are working on 8 songs to record in the winter of 2020. That will be scaled down to 4 to be recorded with an un named producer right now. We have a new guitar player that has been with us since June and he is fantastic. As well as a new drummer. So, we are ready to go.

It looks like you always looking for new members. I see want ads on Facebook. Things like Female Rapper Wanted, 2nd guitarist wanted, Looking for a band?

We always want to expand the sound of rx27. If it was up to me, I would have 2 guitar players. Keyboard player plus the 5 of us. I just think. If you are gonna do something. You might as well over do it. The female rapper thing is for the remix of chasing crazy called fuck forever. To

Cross genres

Would be great. The track is insane. It

Really brings a dynamic to the song. We wind have mumble rappers. But real deal mc rapping over the track. The demo sounds great.

How the band did get its name?

I just came up with the name somehow. I liked the Rx part as the prescription from life and the 27 was for the Saturn return. Not really the 27club. The Saturn return is what happen when Saturn comes back into your birth sign 27 years later. You either make it to the next level spiritually or you end up in the 27 club.

Who designed your logo?

We have this person Valentine Xiao who runs all the social media and logo with a handful of minions under the name of fall originals. I help but it’s all them. Everyone should have a valentine

Why 2 lead singers?

Why not. Wutang clan had 6-7 people. X has two singers. It shows the male female dynamic of life and when I heard Maxine voice it’s the voice I heard in my head for years. Visually it’s stunning. We really want to make Rx27 a spectacle.

Can you tell me about your upcoming music this Fall?

We have about 65 songs demoed and the list keeps growing. We are grabbing 8 of them, to polish up and then share them with some very cutthroat honest fans friends and peers. They will help us pick 4 out of 8. Some of the titles are Chasing Light, Call of the void., once upon a time and a handful of others. We are always improving the songs. And editing to get the best possible lyrics and guitar lines. It’s a very old school process. I wish bands worked harder on their craft. Be it lyrics or music. Take the time to really sit with a song and make it great. I don’t know if they know how. We write in acoustic guitars. Independently and share GarageBand files. We labor over lyrics and melody line until it feels right. For me it’s more art than music. It’s like a painting. Just don’t slam some paint on canvas unless that’s what you want to do. I love lyrics and finding the poetry in the words. The right word to go with a feeling. We orchestrate guitar parts. They are pretty thought out beforehand. That’s why we need two guitar players. I only play guitar in the studio or in conception of a song. I leave it up to the real players to play it live.

Tell me about the creation of your video “Murder Ballard”?

It’s a fly on the wall perspective of a toxic relationship. It was conceived by me and Maxine shot by Deb Frazin. It’s a dark video. I have seen the rough edits. It’s kinda disturbing but a lot of it was taken by true stories we all have experienced sadly. The song is a true to life cautionary tale. When someone your loved tries to kill you, Frazil need to write a song about it. I didn’t die but the relationship did. Thank god. And for me the only way to get over something is to create art to process it. There is a lot of symbolism in the video. Once it comes out it will make more sense of the song. It’s a two-part video. Song of sorrow will continue the story and answer the cliffhanger.

Did you think that the single would be radio ready?

For smaller bands who do not play large crowds, this is not really an issue. How do you see bands going back to smaller venues and doing things like play for the door, with no guarantees?

Again, play music do you best play like your life depends on it and something will happen there are no guarantees in life hopefully the clubs that survived will treat the bands great and the bands will treat the clubs great

With Social Distance being the norm. Do you feel that it maybe the end of the music fest for the next couple of years?

No, I think we will have music festivals and we will go back to a better world after all the chaos has calm down. I actually think music will be better for it because everybody is now starting at square one again

What about Holographic concerts in our living room?

That’s super creepy sometimes you got a let the dead rest in peace

How do you see yourself in the next five years?

Hopefully alive. And hopefully not looking five years older and sitting somewhere doing what I’m doing now I’m waiting to go on stage

Read it all here

[rpd-rookie]

The One Who Runs Away, The One Who Runs Back (Leon S. Kennedy x Reader)

Author’s note: This is a sequel to “A PAST WITH HER, A FUTURE WITH YOU” and the end of my three-parts fan fiction "I TRUSTED YOU WITH MY HEART" I decided to write after so many of you asked for it. Sorry it took so long but I was navigating from one fandom to another. (BTW, if there are any Devil May Cry fans up here, you can read my DMC fan fictions here) PS: Even if I said it before, I have no hate whatsoever towards Ada or Aeon.

Tagged: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Post-Break up, Sexual Content 

Part 1 / Part 2

***

Do you remember? We started this story by quoting some sitcom character that was clueless about love. Well, here’s a suggestion. Why not ending it by quoting someone who knew a little more on such matter.

William Shakespeare - you know that English dude expert on tragic ‘drink this poison, stab yourself’ kind of love - apparently once said ‘Love runs away from those chasing her, and those who run away, she throws herself on his neck’. I say ‘apparently’ cause, even though I have a master in English lit, this quote is from the internet, and also … who knows what the guy truly said?

But it’s the quote that’s important. Not the author. The quote it’s important because it sums up perfectly how this story is gonna end. However, before starting, let me tell you this quote is going to be the only Shakespeare-worthy sentence in this final chapter. You’ve been warned.

Love runs away from those chasing her.          Well, this part was definitely written for someone like Ada Wong. Owner of countless gold medals and possibly a world record at this point, that woman is basically the Usain Bolt of the ‘Running from Leon S. Kennedy’ competition. Unchallenged winner since the creation of this sultry version of cat and mouse game, it’s better not to think about the number of times she successfully ran away from her favourite agent.  But this year, this formidable titleholder in a gorgeous red dress will have to face her Nemesis in the championship. You. Though the comparison to the hideous bio-organic killing machine might not be very complimentary to you but you get the idea.  This year you enter the Kennedy Olympics. And this year you run like Sonic the Hedgehog and you win the damn competition (screw you Usain Bold!). And you do this with your head high and without an ounce of regret. Ignore all the texts and flowers Leon might send on your track Mario Kart style. His gifts are not as slippery as banana peels and they can easily be dodged, I promise. Well, most of the time, when you’re not lying on your bed in the middle of the night crying and sobbing while reading his messages or playing his voice in your voicemail again and again until you’re nothing more but a giant mess with puffy red eyes drowning in a puddle of your own tears.        Screw those messages too! And screw his broken yet terribly sexy voice as well!

Being a man of word, Leon kept his promise. And for months you kept on running peacefully, marathoning away from this past relationship that had destroyed you like no other before while tranquilly fixing your broken heart on the way. That run was a good cardio.

But sometimes, cardio is not enough, and even just the small sight of an overpriced whisky bottle or the smell of Leon’s perfume on some guy’s clothes is enough to reopen your wounds.           And when it happens, you always do the same thing, you break the damn bottle - and run cause damn! it’s expensive! -  or you tell the guy his perfume smells like cheap cologne and that he should definitely change it, which is an improvement on your past destructive behaviour, since there was a time shortly after the break up when you would have simply dragged the guy to your place to let him fuck you senseless while imagining he was Leon. All that just for the illusion to feel him again and for the sake to kick him out the next morning, screaming like a hysterical psycho.

So imagine, for a small second, the wave of intense feelings surging out of your healing heart when, in the middle of a cafe, you hear some dude sitting behind you ordering Leon’s favourite whisky while wearing the same bloody perfume. “It’s got to be relentless persecution at that point!” You sigh, already annoyed, closing your book more violently than intended. Hope you’re ready, stranger! Because you’re not in the mood to deal with this right now.            You turn around with a fake smile that reflects perfectly your irritation, ready to give him hell, your sharpest riposte already burning your tongue. After all, he deserves it and you can’t help it.         But when you meet familiar – and freaking gorgeous - baby blue eyes you freeze and stare, suddenly confused and lost and refusing to believe that in spite of the intense running, love just jumped at your neck after all and it was sitting there, taking the shape of Leon S(tupid) Kennedy.

You should have stood up and left, run for your life, run for your heart. And yet, you didn’t.    You stayed there staring at him looking at you, allowing all your memories, the good ones and the bad ones, all your buried feelings to come back from the dead, embracing them as if you had missed them, which, let’s be honest, you probably had.            You tried to scream to yourself “Come on, Y/N! Shake a leg!” but it seemed that what you brain understood was something like “Cum on him! Open your legs!” as a couple of blurry hours later, you were on Leon’s bed, legs wide open, screaming his name and begging him not to stop his amazing thrusts.

Six months, you ran for six months … Well, looks like the run ends here and now. After a minute-long deep stare, an afternoon of amazing sex and two hours long of something blurry in between.

“I missed you.” And there you were! The moment all couples that broke up have after one of them (in this case Leon with the infamous ‘I missed you line’) starts to believe they miraculously rekindled their love. The fatal post-coital cuddling session that you don’t know how to react to, as you think of all the possibilities before you.      Possibility Number 1) You tell Leon you missed him too and cuddle, enjoying that embrace you secretly yearned for months. But that includes forgetting what he has done or pretending that nothing happened.     Possibility Number 2) You push him away, get dressed, leave again and act as if this afternoon never happened. But if Leon doesn’t remind you of it, the ache between your legs will, that’s for sure!   Possibility Number 3) You jump him again until you sore even more and hope that you’ll be able to leave afterwards.         Frankly, all possibilities suck because, in all cases, it seems like you lose. Since,       with Possibility Number 1) you lose the run forever, with Possibility Number 2) you lose him again and with Possibility Number 3) well it’s result 1 or 2 + your body aching like crazy for days. I suck at math but no need to be Einstein to know the result of this calculation looks unpleasant.    So what do you choose?

You see a triangular dice rolling in your head, showing a never-ending succession of 1, 2 and 3 that doesn’t make any sense and that confuse you even more than you already are. 1, 2, 3, 2, 1, 3, 2 ! Oh for fuck’s sake!

You grimace, angry and pissed at Leon and probably even more at yourself, and finally leaves his bed and his strong warm arms, feeling the tears furiously forming in your eyes. “I can’t” You can’t look at him in the eyes. You don’t want to see his confusion, don’t want to see his pain as he witnesses all his hopes shatter to pieces.         “ What do you mean?” You can hear the sheets crease behind you, alerting you of Leon’s agitation, so you hurry and pick up all your clothes scattered in his room. You must leave, now. 2! 2 it is!  “This! All This! This afternoon never happened.” You tell him, putting on your clothes with sudden clumsy and trembling hands, not caring if your bra is correctly hooked or if you put your shirt on back to front. Your heart. You have to think of your poor heart first.          “Hey, hey, hey.” You feel Leon’s hand softly grabbing your arms and you let go of whatever you were holding right now. His voice is sweet and trying to be comforting. Don’t look at him Y/N! Don’t look at him! “Look at me.” You do. Damn it! And you see his gorgeous blue eyes staring at you, studying your flustered face and the tears slowly drowning your (colour) look. You missed those eyes. You missed them so.damn.much ! As much as you missed his hands cupping your face and his thumbs wiping up your tears. God! How many tears those thumbs have missed recently. “It’s alright.”

You want to believe him. You really do. But there is this voice screaming in your head and very clearly this time. A voice shouting, forcing you to remember that night, that awful nightmarish night, the one when you felt your heart break and your dreams turn to ashes. All that because of him and his obsession for her.

“No, it’s not alright, Leon.” You shake your head and miraculously manage to take a small step back. You never thought you could. But you had to. You can’t stay close to him. You can’t let him touch you, feel you. Not if you want to run away. And you have to run away. Like her! Like Ada. Ada! “I told you. For as long as you have feelings for Ada, I can’t … we can’t…”     “Please don’t talk about her.” He begs and rubs his hand over his face. Is he trying to chase her away from his mind? Is she still in here? Please, let her not be in here.    “But she’s the reason we’re in this situation now. She’s the reason why we’re in this mess.” You insist only for the sake to see his reaction when you mention Ada, to see if she’s still under his skin, somewhere. “Ada is not the reason. I am!” Leon corrects you, a finger directed at his heavy chest as he is putting the full blame on himself for the first time since that night. “I am the one who went after Ada when I shouldn’t have! I am the reason why we broke up! I am the reason why we are so miserable!”         “But I was fine!” You shouted back in an attempt to show him he was wrong refusing to listen to that part of you who knew he was completely right. You were miserable without him. “I was doing fine until you came back and fucked everything up! I was healing goddamnit!”             You felt new tears rolling along your red cheeks and quickly wipe them off with the back of your hand that felt so callous and rough in comparison to Leon’s gentle touch. “You can’t just jump back into my life like this and expect me to forget!”

Leon nods, agreeing with you in a certain way. But the truth is, he doesn’t want you to forget. He doesn’t expect you to erase his mistake. He just wants you to forgive him … No, he just wants you to come back to him. Period. And that’s got to be what you want to. It has to!   “So why did you have sex with me, huh?” He finally asks even though he already knows your answer. “Tell me!” You’re not the kind of person who has meaningless sex, not the kind of person who worships one’s body with divine kisses and devoted caresses if they mean nothing. “Why did you have sex with me?” And yet the answer he wishes to hear doesn’t come out. “For fuck’s sake Y/N! Answer me! Why?” He shouts making you shiver and cry even more.    “Because I LOVE YOU!” You finally scream. And it hurts. It hurts but it feels good too. Like a weight lifted off your chest. “Because I missed you too! Because those months without you have been terrible! Because I don’t know how to handle even just the thought of you or the sound of your voice in my voicemail. Because each time I see something that makes me think of you, I’m a mess and I do things that normal me would never do! You fucked me up, Leon! You fucked me up but I love you! And I hate to love you!” You grunt in pain and relief, enraged but happy that you finally let everything out. And Leon listens in silence, frozen by your powerful honest confession. But he doesn’t know how to react. He doesn’t know what to say. Part of him is overjoyed, ecstatic that you still love him but there is another part that just feels terrible, sorry for the pain your love for him caused you even in his absence.   “But you see—“ You continue “That’s the problem in our relationship, Leon! I love you in ways that are so intense, that go beyond sanity. And you love me by half.”    You see him crumple, his horrified face looking suddenly very pale as if he had just heard some dreadful news. Is that really how you feel? Is that how you see his love for you? Is that what he has made you believe?         “Goodbye Leon.”

With the full intention to leave Leon’s place for good and never come back, you grab you bag on your way out of the bedroom while carelessly shoving your underwear inside of it since you forgot to put them on in the midst of panic and precipitation. Get out of here, Y/N! Now! A reasonable voice encourages you. Listen to me!    But this not what Leon wants.

“I never loved you by half.” He declares and you abruptly stop, asking God if he’s some kind of sadist that loves seeing you in pain from the comfort of his divine sofa somewhere in heaven. “Never.” But it’s not God and his sadism that makes you turn around. It’s you, and your masochist love for that blue-eyed man before you.     “I don’t believe you” Your voice almost doesn’t leave your throat as you try not to sob.           “But it’s the truth.” He says with a calm soothing voice as he slowly approaches you. “I never imagined my future with Ada. I never wished to grow old with her or build a home with her.” You want to tell Leon to stop talking, to stay where he is but your body doesn’t seem to respond. And when you feel him grabbing your hands in his and the comforting warmth that goes with that simple touch, you know that leaving is now an almost impossible task. “Yes. I admit it. My feelings for her were real.” Even when his honesty hurts you, you don’t know how to leave anymore. “But they were nothing in comparison to what I feel for you.”     You try to let go, pulling your hands away from his loving grip but he holds you back. And you’re not strong enough. Or maybe, you just don’t want to be strong. Everything is so confusing. Everything is tearing you apart.     “But they’re still here, aren’t they?” You question, hoping his answer might give you a clue, might give you the strength to make the correct decision. Do you leave? Or do you stay? “And they’ll keep coming back each she goes back into your life. You can’t let go of her.”    “You’re maybe right.” His words hurt you more than you thought they would. They hurt like hell because you realise there are not the ones you wanted to hear. You wanted to hear him say that he would let go of Ada, for good, for you. You wanted to hear that because deep down … YOU WANTED TO FUCKING STAY! “But can you let go of your past?” He continues and you shake your head refusing to hear any other word coming out of Leon’s mouth.       “Don’t!” You beg, weary.           “No! Listen to me this time. Ada is my past, Y/N. She’s my past. And you … you’re my future. You’re my life, damn it!” He doesn’t cry but you don’t need his tears to sense how emotional and how honest he is. And suddenly, you just want to listen to him. “And I was a fool not to see it sooner. When you left me, I felt a void I had never felt in my entire life. I felt like a part of me was missing. And then, the bombing in Washington happened, and it was like I had nothing left. I needed you. I wanted you. You. Not Ada.”      “Leon” You whisper and he cups your face again, blue eyes staring deep into yours, allowing you to see everything in him, his strong love for you and all the weaknesses he hated to admit. “It was you in my mind. Only you. And it will always be you. Because I love you. Now. Today. And I will always love you.”

You cry even more, uncertain if those tears are tears of sorrow, tears of joy or a mix of both. God, how can your emotions be such a mess right now? How can you be wishing to shout at him with all the anger you’ve accumulated and, at the same time, willing to kiss him with all love you’ve got?

“If you got to believe something. Believe that. And if that’s not enough and you think you can be happy with someone else. Then go. I won’t hold you back.” You frown. He is fucking lying. You’re sure of it. “You can’t stop running after me and you know it.” He smiles and scoffs, sensing that hint of sudden defiance in your tone he enjoys a lot.  “True. I can’t sop running after you. But I’ll do my best not to catch you if that’s what you want. But you got to tell me. Is that what you truly want?” You don’t reply. Truth is, you’re not sure what to say not because you’re not sure that’s what you want but because you’re not sure you can trust him if you let him in again.                        “No.” You whisper. “No, that’s not what I want. I want you. All of you.” You can see Leon struggle to contain his growing joy as it starts to glimmer brighter and brighter in his irises. He doesn’t want to cry victory just yet. He is cautious and rightfully so. “But can I?”        “Want me?” He smiles. “ Have you completely?” You correct, searching for a promise in his eyes, one you hope, you wish he would not break this time.     “Trust me with your heart again and find out.”

This better not hurt this time…

[gamer-logic]

Since my state, Georgia, is having the annual Peaches to Beaches event which is two days of statewide yard sales, I thought it would be interesting to show how America, the states, and any other countries wanting to participate both 1p and 2p would be during this event. So here you go!

Georgia is happily selling fresh produce like boiled peanuts and Vidalia onions and peach-based deserts. Her homemade peach cobbler and ice cream are to die for!

Antonio (Spain) also sells many fresh tomatoes, olives, and other vegetables. He doesn't understand why no one wants his Olive Juice though.

Hawaii and Alaska make a killing selling lemonade at their stand with a free complimentary handmade flower crown with every purchase. While using their sheer cuteness to attract everyone including one of those sweet biker gangs. It's really surreal to see a huge gang of buff, tattooed, tough-looking guys in leather wearing flower crowns and drinking lemonade. Allen's also there to supervise and ward of creep. Also, to provide people more 'incentive' to buy their lemonade.

Texas breaks out the Texas BBQ and is in a Barbecuing turf war with Jett (Australia). They draw huge crowds for the five-alarm chili as well and hold a competition who can eat the most without burning out their tongues and/or passing out.

Florida sells some of the weirdest stuff you'll ever see. "Want a full-scale model of a gator made entirely out of bottle caps? Only ten bucks! Want a portrait of Florida Man painted with orange juice? 15 bucks!"

Nevada also tries to sell weird and sketchy stuff to scam everyone. "This piece is the genuine article folks! One napkin gently used by Elvis Presley himself! Just 500 bucks! Also, gets into a haggling war with Lars (Netherlands). Somewhere Alfred's dad instincts go off and he reminds himself to ground Nevada.

California, Oregon, and Washington collaborate and California sells anything vegan or made with avocadoes and the autographs of Hollywood stars, Oregon sells his old tye-dyed shirts and records, they also made him sell his old groovy hippy bus from the sixties he'd never got rid of no one knew they had. Oregon can be a bit of a hoarder, so they had to tie him to a chair and gag him because he wouldn't surrender the bus without a fight. Washington also tries to sell and drink cups of coffee, but in the hot Southern heat, this doesn't end well.

Louisiana sells anything Cajun-style from frog legs to fresh gumbo, to beignets. Also has a full collection of Mardi Gras masks and shrunken voodoo heads on sale for two bucks a pop.

Gilbert (Prussia) gets tricked by Nevada and gets a ton of stupid things he doesn't need. Ludwig (Germany) tries unsuccessfully to keep him on a metaphorical leash.

Ludwig always checks the quality of things he sees and buys dog toys and supplies for Blackie, Berlitz, and Astor. Later, he actually buys a kiddie leash for Gilbert.

All the while Lutz (2p! Germany) is asleep in a lawn chair with his hat on his face after drinking like six cold beers from this really good booth. All the while, Klaus (2p! Prussia) finds an antique Teutonic Knights flag from a vendor whose family was from Germany.

Vash (Switzerland) buys antique guns from Alabama and Roderich (Austria) also checks out some of Tennessee's guitars. He's horrified upon seeing Alabama's banjo and washboard.

Mathew (Canada) and Emma (Belgium) combine their powers and tag team to sell the best pancakes and waffles on earth with genuine Canadian maple syrup.

New York sells tons of baseball memorabilia and collectibles. Allen, trying to save his bad-boy image, tries to be discreet when buying some while taking Hawaii and Alaska around to get something with their lemonade money. James also gets some hockey memorabilia with Michigan and Minnesota who also got snow cones.

Alaska and Hawaii see a giant deluxe dollhouse but are almost in tears when they don't have enough money. But they end up getting it for free because no one can resist their weaponized puppy dog eyes. Also, no one can resist a growling Allen. Using the leftover money, they buy cute little rainbow umbrella hats for everyone and have Allen wear one who begrudgingly accepts it.

James, walking by with an armful hockey gear and flannel shirts, bursts out laughing when he sees this. In revenge, Allen forces him to wear one too and help him carry the dollhouse, much to Hawaii and Alaska's delight! "I said go my way puck head!" "No, it's my way, you vegan loving hoser!" A passing Francis (France)' is in stylish horror when they also make him and a nonchalant Luis (2p! France), holding a case of vintage wines, wear them too. Hawaii and Alaska go around giving umbrella hats to everyone including a sleeping Lutz they pass by.

Loving (Romano) practically has to supervise Feliciano (Italy) and keep him from buying anything too stupid on impulse or get scammed. They still end up with stacks upon stacks of cookbooks, kitchen wear, and a Mona Lisa made entirely out of Macaroni. They also get umbrella hats.

Flavio (2p! Romano) browses through clothing racks to get ideas for his vintage line. Also checks out the handmade fabrics like quilts. "Such craftsmanship! This pattern is so unique and chic! I simply must have it! What's your price Bella?" The nice old woman selling the quilt just smiles, "Oh just about five dollars young man." "Perfect!" Flavio hands the quilts off to Andreas (2p! Spain) who's practically buried underneath the fabric. Luciano (2p! Italy) facepalms while holding a new knife set in its case. "Oooh! Look at those adorable hats I just have to have one." Cue three more umbrella hats and a humiliated Luciano. "Just kill me now..."

Katyusha (Ukraine), Elizaveta (Hungary), Lillie (Liechtenstein), Natalya, (Belarus), Katya( 2p! Ukraine) and Anastasia (2p! Belarus), and Michelle (Seychelles) explore with armfuls of clothes, new ribbons, and a gun case for Switzerland (Lillie), cast iron frying pans (Elizaveta, watch out Prussia!), farm tools (Katyusha), Jewelry and unmentionables (Katya), dresses (Anastasia), an assortment of switchblades (Natalya), and one of those singing fish on a plague (Michelle). It's definitely an interesting group.

Kiku (Japan) and Kuro (2p! Japan) find a nerd booth selling comics, manga, and Japanese weapons like katanas. Kuro test swings a blade and tries to slice the table so hard it breaks the blade, "Hmmm, not sharp enough for me, got anything else?" He throws it on the pile of broken blades he's already tested. Kiku stockpiles on limited-edition manga and he and the vendor end up getting into a huge, heated by Kiku standards, debate on who's waifu is best. Further down, Alfred reads every Marvel/DC comic while keeping an ear out on every state's location. He checks on Texas via his glasses and notices he's beating Australia in the chili contest. "That's my boy!"

Wisconsin wearing a cheese head sells anything cheese-based. He's got cheddar, goat cheese, string cheese, cheese spray, gorgonzola, grilled cheese, cheese curds, Mac n' Cheese, cheese sculptures of all world monuments, you name it he's got it! He also starts a war with Iowa's corn dishes and Idaho's potato dishes. They eventually end up flinging cheese, potatoes, and corn after they start dissing each other's foods. "Take this cheese brain!" "Nice aim, I-da-ho!" "I told you not to call me that!" "I'm gonna go children of the corn on y'all's behinds!" Poor Nebraska is stuck in the middle.

Alfred (America) hears the commotion and using his parent radar, immediately knows who it is and reminds himself to ground Iowa, Wisconsin, and Idaho later along with Nevada who, though still grounded for sure, makes him feel a little proud of since he managed to out haggle Netherlands.

New Mexico and Arizona also sell Native American handicrafts along with things like dreamcatchers and giant inflatable aliens. While Delaware, being the boring stick in the mud that he is, walks by with a framed and complete U.S. quarter collection from a vendor.

Kansas sells out of every sunflower she had courtesy of Ivan (Russia). Ivan and her the team up to buy out every sunflower seed from here to kingdom come. Viktor (2p! Russia) buys all the vodka he can find and a new shovel while Xiao (2p! China) tries giving people tattoos for 10 bucks a pop.

He tries to convince Yao (China) to get a hello kitty one to match the giant plushie he's holding, with the encouragement of Leon (Hong Kong) and Yong Soo (South Korea) who all collectively agree he needs to quit being such a grandpa. They also like calling him an antique-like the items on sale. " Aiyah! I'm not that old, aru!" "Yeah, you are Sensei." "Don't deny it! Da Ze!" Respect your elders!" "Tattoos originated in Korea da ze!" He totally is that old.

Oliver (2p! England) holds a bake sale and has people lined up for blocks to get some. Arthur (England), after having his scones shut down after it poisoned some unlucky squirrels, fries selling authentic magical items like unicorn hair or pixie dust. Everyone thinks he's a little crazy but he did sell a good bit of old magic books he needed to get out of his house, after making sure no one could actually use them of course.

The Nordics also went perusing for antique and handmade furniture when Mathias (Denmark) spots two full sets of Viking costumes and tries to get Lukas (Norway) to try them on with him. Lukas wasn't amused.

Berwald (Sweden) and Tino (Finland) also find a great handmade table to get after inspecting the workmanship and a full Lego set for Peter (Sealand), now if only Mathias would stop squealing like a little kid at the full piece lego death star. Emil (Iceland) keeps thinking he's the mature one until he spots a mini top hat and cane for Mr. Puffin.

In the end, everyone ends up wearing umbrella hats courtesy of Hawaii and Alaska, loving all the strange things they bought or counting the profits they made. Alfred (America) is proud of his kids and visits everyone one of their stands. He ends up looking pretty funny with an umbrella hat (HW, AK), a washboard, (AL),a picture of Florida Man, (FL), a balloon alien (NM, AZ), a tye dye shirt (CA, WA, OR), hockey stick shaped glasses (MN, MI), a giant stack of comics with a replica Thor hammer and Captain America shield on his back, all in a shopping cart (NV), and a giant turkey leg in his hand (Tx). Unsurprisingly, it was a tie between Oliver, Texas, and Australia for who earned the most with their food. Georgia just smiled as this was another great year for her state and people!

[ve1vetyoongi]

better with you | 02

Chapters: index

Pairing: Seokjin x female reader

Genre: fake dating/arranged marriage!au, smut, angst, humour.

Word count: 18k

Summary: A part time job as a chef at Paradise Resort seems like the perfect way to spend your summer and save up some spare cash to open your own restaurant back home. That is until you cross paths with the CEO’s son who threatens to fire you if you don’t help him inherit his trust-fund-baby-fortune. How? By making you his fiancé. Well, his pretend fiancé at least.

Warnings: (mostly) fluffy smut, unprotected penetrative sex, handjobs, oral (f recieving), creampie, spanking, lots of pining hhhhhh.

A/N: HELLO omg it’s literally been so long since i updated this fic and let me tell you it was so fun to finally write for these characters again!!! thank u for everyone who has sent lovely asks about the first chapter and for waiting so long for the next one! ily and i hope ur all staying safe and well during these crazy times my honeybuns <3<3

"Seokjin," You gasp. "N-not here."

Fingers toy with the hem of the expensive sequin dress you found wrapped up in tissue paper on your bed that morning, edging agonizingly closer to the damp throb between your legs that under normal circumstances would require immediate attention from Seokjin -- if only you weren't in the back seat of one of the Kim's private cars.

"Why not?" Seokjin mumbles against your neck, the way his plump lips nibble the lobe of your ear making you shiver. "I know you're wet for me. Nobody has to know if I just..."

His palm cups your heat brazenly, and you have to bite back a moan, cheeks flushing when Seokjin chuckles low and gravelly against your ear. Your arrangement as you've taken to calling it has been going on for a few weeks now, Seokjin dragging you along to family outings and fancy dinners as his fiance and rewarding you with sensual rendezvous and get-to-know-me time in between.

"I know you want it, sweetheart." He drags a finger down your panties and you whimper. "Just say the magic word, and I'll give it to you."

Oh god. You are so weak for his touch, and he knows it. The things Seokjin's tousled hair and cocky smirk make you feel should be illegal. Anyone would think you have the sex drive of a teenage boy, constantly eager to jump his bones just looking at him. But not now, not here. The windows might be tinted, but you are sure you spot the chauffeur's eyes drifting to the backseat in the rear view mirror.

"Sir," The driver coughs, eyes trained politely to the steering wheel. The car has stopped at some point, not that either of you noticed. "We have arrived."

Seokjin flashes you a satisfied look as his hand reluctantly slips out from beneath your skirt so he can fish around in his back pocket for his leather wallet, throwing a couple fifty dollar bills on the front seat as a tip. "Thanks, Pierre."

You're still busy straightening your skirt when the car door opens and a black-gloved hand helps you out onto the sidewalk. You can't help but blush ferociously when you meet the driver's knowing gaze, a smirk playing on his lips. "No problem, sir'"

"I'll take it from here." Seokjin nods to the driver and slips his elbow through yours. Pierre lifts his black cap, before getting back into his shiny Mercedes and whizzing off into the city traffic.

Your legs shake in your stilettos, partly because you're not used to walking in anything other than your beat up converse but mostly because of the reassuring smile Seokjin sends your when when he see's you glancing around nervously.

You're in a upper class part of town, the street lined with shiny black cabs and designer boutiques with French names you can't even pronounce. You can't help but feel out of place, like the eyes of every passerby see right through your immaculate rich facade and see you for the ordinary kitchen girl that you really are.

"Don't worry," He leans down, pressing his lips to your ear so only you can hear as he pretends to adjust your diamond necklace. At least you think its diamond...what would you know? "You look beautiful. Just relax."

A small smile plays on your lips. Beautiful. It makes your heart flutter like a butterfly between cupped palms, even though you know it shouldn't. That's been happening a lot lately, and you don't like how easily he can make you melt. Snap out of it!  You tell yourself.

Still, his reassurance makes you feel more at ease than before, and you straighten your shoulders with a new found confidence as Seokjin takes your hand in his, even if it is just for show. You have to make the fiance thing believable, after all.

"You still haven't told me where we're going." It's true -- Seokjin is good at keeping secrets. Probably because he knew that you'd say no to most of the crazy situations he seemed persistent on putting you in.

"Don't hate me," Seokjin eyes you carefully. You narrow your eyes, with a nod that says go on. "Hyejin wants us to go dress shopping."

"You bought me this new dress this morning?" You smooth down the front of the floaty summer dress that hugs your figure.

He coughs, eyes averting yours. "Wedding dress shopping."

That's when you come to a stop on the sidewalk outside of an elegant white-brick bazaar, eyes widening at the glaringly white dresses styled on mannequins that stare at you from behind the floor to ceiling windows.

Seoul Bridal - For All Your Wedding Dress Needs.

Your blood runs cold. Oh no.

You grip his hand tighter. "I'm going to kill you."

Seokjin is already pushing open the door with a chuckle that mingles with the tiny tinkling bell that rings out and announces your arrival. Too late to kick off your stiletto's and run.

"After you, sweetheart."

"Welcome to Seoul Bridal," A pretty lady with curly hair in a striped pant suit welcomes you inside with a hand shake. Her name tag says Wheein, and you can't take your eyes off the red lipstick on her teeth. "It's nice to finally meet you, Seokjin."

"The pleasure is all mine," Seokjin responds, voice deep with a suave charm that makes the girls behind the reception desk giggle unashamedly. For some reason you have to resist sending a glare their way, not missing the way your chest burns when Seokjin flashes them a dazzling smile. "Hyejin said you had some ideas for Y/N's wedding dress?"

"Of course. We have everything ready. We just need to get some measurements first." She smiles at him courteously, then whips a tape measure out of her trouser pocket which she wastes no time in wrapping around your waist. "Arms up, please." She murmurs as she slides the glasses balanced on top of her head behind her ears so she can get a better measurement of your shoulder width. You send an eyeroll Seokjin's way when you hear him snort bemusedly at the sudden man handling.

While Wheein bites the cap off a pen with her teeth and scribbles down the size ratio of your waist to your hips for future reference, you finally get the chance to take in the boutique properly. The sweet scent from the bouquets of white roses all over the room fills the air and the walls are painted a blush pink to match the faux fur rugs. Streams of sunlight pour through the chiffon curtains making the racks of blindingly white wedding dresses of all sizes and designs glow invitingly.

"Which one am I trying on?" You ask absentmindedly, nodding towards the sea of satin and lace hanging delicately from pink hangers.

Wheein looks up confused, then her nose wrinkles with distaste."Oh, none of these darling. You deserve the very best." She starts walking quickly towards a back room, heels click clacking as she beckons you to follow her with a crook of her finger. "We received some luxury designs from two of our best designers in London and Milan just this morning -- oh! And it looks like the dress from Paris just arrived!"

She shuffles you and Seokjin into a private dressing room, seating you on an elegant couch upholstered with grey velvet. Seokjin picks up one of the gossip magazines on the coffee table and helps himself to the complimentary cupcakes, all while you wring your hands together nervously, Wheein emerging from the large closet with three white garment bags.

"Here they are! Oh, how exciting." She claps her hands together with a beaming grin in your direction. With a flick of her wrist she removes all three bags, revealing three of the most beautiful dresses you've ever seen. You must look dazzled, because Wheein crosses her arms triumphantly. "Hyejin knew you'd like them. Just wait until you see the veils..."

She disappears into another room, and you're left gawking at the garments set in front of you like a goldfish. Fingers trembling, you reach out and touch the first one. It has a giant poofy skirt, like something you imagine a princess would wear, and you imagine how it would float down the aisle like a real life cloud. The second is more slinky, with shiny beads littering the bodice that glint silver beneath the glow of the chandelier and the third is made from gorgeous lace that shows skin in all the right places.

"How much did these cost?" You hiss to Seokjin, ripping your hand away like your touch alone might burn a hole in the fabric.

"Hm?" He says through a mouthful of cake, eyes widening when he takes in the dresses for himself." Too much, probably. Hyejin went a little over board but honestly, these aren't as bad as I was expecting." Seokjin runs his hand over the lace one, and nods approvingly. "You should've seen the rejects. One had a trail longer than my monster coc-"

"I can't try on any of these!" You splutter, arms hugging your torso. They're too beautiful for someone like me, is what you want to say, but you don't. "I'll look dumb."

"Just do it." He leans back against the wall with a roll of his eyes. Like this is all nothing to him. "It's not like you actually have to get married in one of them."

Ouch. His words sting, even though you know they're true, and you're reminded of the real reason you came here in the first place. It makes your stomach turn, how he can go from the sort of sweet Seokjin you know when you're alone to the cold, arrogant rich guy in the drop of a hat.

You turn away so he doesn't see your frown, when you catch a glimpse of something white in the corner, poking out from beneath a dust sheet. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and before you can help it you're crossing the room and ripping the sheet away to reveal another dress; except this one makes something in your chest flutter.

It's simpler than the others. Tiny white roses are stitched into the sleeves, the neckline dipping into a V shape where the bouncy chiffon skirt meets the satin waistband. It's straight forward, uncomplicated. Just how you like it.

"Have you decided which one you want to try on first?" Wheein's shrill voice calls, but it's drowned out by the blood pumping through your ears.

"That one." You breathe, pointing at the dress that you can't help but reaching out to touch.

"That one? Are you sure, darling, I'm sure we can find something more fancy--"

"No!" It comes out too loud, and you cover it with a cough, turning to send her a pleading smile. "I mean, no, no thank you. This one, please. I want to try it on."

"You know, when Hyejin told me Seokjin was finally getting married I just knew you would have to be something special." Wheein says once you're safely alone in the dressing room, away from prying eyes and mischievous ears. "Suck in."

"Hm?" It's all you manage to get out as you're strapped into a boned under-corset that feels like its trying to squeeze every last breath out of you. You're so close you can smell her floral perfume.

"It's just that I've had so many wedding dresses made that never made it to the aisle. Honestly I was starting to think Seokjin would never settle down..." She trails off, lip tugged between her teeth as she helps you step into the floaty white dress, tying the belt into a bow at your waist before stepping back to admire her handy work. "But now I see what made him change his mind. You make a beautiful couple."

"Oh." You realise she's looking at you, a blush creeping up your neck. "Right."

If only she knew the truth.

You start to turn towards the mirror, but she plants a hand on your shoulder hurriedly. "Nuh uh. No peeking yet." You feel your face drop. "Don't look so worried. It looks perfect. He's going love it."

"I...I have to show him? Now?" You shift uncomfortably. The shoes are rubbing your soles and the sleeves sort of itch. "Isn't it bad luck for the groom to see the wedding dress before the big day?" You ask sheepishly.

"This is just the rought blueprint," Wheein reassures. "It doesn't count."

"I..." Your voice breaks. The thought of Seokjin sat out there with his roaming eyes seeing you in this dress makes your stomach churn. "I'm nervous."

"Don't be. Save that for the big day." She bites her lip, stepping back to look you up and down like there's something missing. Her eyes light up, and she digs around in a leather trunk in the corner to retrieve a sparkly tiara which she tucks neatly into your hair. "There. Perfect. Now lets not keep him waiting, hm?"

"Holy shit."

The words leave your mouth before you can think better of it.

Your reflection stares back at you, wide eyed and awe stricken, except it doesn't look like you at all.

The dress is beautiful. There's no denying it. It hugs your waist perfectly and the skirt waterfalls down to your ankles in just the right way. Wheein tugged your hair over your shoulders so the sweetheart neckline shows off just the right amount of collar bone, tiara sparkling beneath the soft light. A matching veil partially covers your face, and you've never felt more beautiful than you do now.

It's almost enough to make you want to believe that this is all real. That you're marrying Seokjin. That you get to walk down the aisle looking like...this.

"I don't see why I have to get all dressed up, Wheein, it's no big deal -- woah."

The door flies open, and your eyes snap up to meet Seokjin's in the mirror.

He has half of his seventh cupcake hanging out of his slackened mouth, his hair gelled back and tousled to reveal his forehead, and his piercing brown eyes that can't seem to decide where to look, glancing up over your exposed shoulders and down to your ass and back again, like he can't get enough.

He's lost his casual slacks from earlier, seemingly under Wheein's instruction, now clad in a black suit and matching shiny-toe'd shoes. His tie hangs slack around his neck, like he tugged it loose, and he fiddles awkwardly with his cuff links as he tries to get a grip over his roaming eyes.

"Y-Y/N you look--"

"Beautiful, right?" Wheein straightens his shirt, fastens his cuff links and knocks him beneath the chin to remind him to close his gawking mouth with a tut. He nods, speechless. "I'll leave you two to talk."

The door shuts behind her, and the room suddenly feels quieter than now you and Seokjin are alone, him on one side of the room, you on the other. You dare to meet his eyes and you find them staring straight at you, the glint that's usually there replaced with a wonder that's soft and gentle around the edges. You melt beneath his gaze.

He clears his throat, scratching a phantom itch at the back of his neck. It's the first time you've seen Seokjin seem sort of...awkward?

"C'mere." His voice is low, filled with something you can't quite put your finger on. "I want to see you."

You have to remember how to get your feet to work, hesitantly putting one in front of the other to cross the room. Seokjin stands with his palms clasped, a small smile playing on his lips as you close the space between you, and you swear you can hear the wedding bells already.

After what feels like ages, you stop a few paces away from him. He steps towards you carefully, flipping the veil out of your eyes like he's done it a million times before.

"Hey." You whisper. You don't know what else to say, but it makes Seokjin laugh and the sound makes your chest squeeze.

He looks dapper in his suit, like a real groom, and as he leans in closer, closer, until there's barely any distance between you, you can smell his cologne.

Your eyes fall shut instinctively. You almost swear when you open them there'll be a pastor and a pair of rings and Seokjin will be saying I do--

"You scrub up pretty well, huh?" His breath tickles your ear, and your eyes snap open to punch him in the chest playfully.

"I could say the same for you, mister."

A thumb grazes your jaw, tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. "Whoever gets to marry you is one lucky bastard."

The pounding in your chest is so loud you're sure the whole store can hear it. His lips are inches from yours, parted and plush. You've kissed them plenty of times before but only in the height of passion. Never like this. Not when his touch feels like a jolt of electricity running straight from his body and right into yours.

Just when you think he's going to give in and close the distance, he turns your face in his palm and plants a peck on your cheek. It's soft, careful. Like he's not really sure of it himself, his hand running through your hair before he takes a couple steps back with a shake of his head. Like he almost did something he shouldn't have.

"What time do you have to be at work?"

The question breaks you out of your trance. You realize he's staring at you expectantly, waiting for an answer. "Oh--not until this evening." You manage to choke out.

"Good. Then you're all mine for the afternoon." He grabs another cupcake from the stand and disappears behind one of the fitting room curtains. "Hurry and give the dress back to Wheein and I'll call Pierre to come pick us up."

"Where are we going?"

You hear him snort. "You'll see."

"This is where you wanted to take me?"

The late afternoon sun sparkles on the surface of the Paradise lake like diamonds. It's peaceful here at this time of day, the gardeners already disappearing into the lounge for a late lunch, rows of pastel canoes tied up to the dock bobbing in time with the chirping birds.

"Well?" Seokjin huffs impatiently. He's stood in the hull of a dark blue canoe that he stole from the boat shed — or borrowed, as he put it, since everything here belongs to him anyway — hand extended towards you. "Aren't you getting in?"

You narrow your eyes and nod towards the sign that says NO BOATS ON THE LAKE AFTER 4PM in curly gold letters. "Isn't that breaking the rules?"

Seokjin raises a brow, jangling a set of keys. "I own this place remember? Besides, I stole the boat worker's keys so we can stay for as long as we want."

The breeze ruffles your skirt, a shiver running down your spine when you peer over the edge of the dock and see your sheepish reflection staring up at you from the water, rippling and watery around the edges. You never did like deep water, and the thought of getting in that rocking capsule of death makes your stomach churn.

"It looks cold," You point out, grimacing at the clear blue water. "What if we fall in? Do you even know how to steer this thing?"

Seokjin shoots you a look, like you just said the dumbest thing he's ever heard. "Pfft. Of course. I've been taking rowing lessons since I could toddle."

Of course he has. You roll your eyes. Rich kids, huh?

"Oh come on, it's fine!" He jumps up and down as if to demonstrate just how safe, but the boat just rocks manically side to side and he has to grab the dock to steady himself before he plunges straight into the lake. He flashes you a sheepish smile. "See?"

You cross your arms, unconvinced. "Yeah, I think I'll pass."

Seokjin slumps into the canoe with an exaggerated sigh. "Well goddamn, I'm sorry for wanting to do something nice. We don't get much alone time so I thought—" He waves his hand at you in frustration, starting to unravel the rope keeping the boat secured to the dock. "You know what, fuck it, I'll just go by myself—"

"Wait!" Something about the disappointed frown on his face makes you change your mind. Fuck it. "I'm getting in."

He pauses, and then his lips curve up into a small smile. Not his usual too-big-too-polite smile; the kind of smile you reserve for special moments. The glint in his eye is back, and if your legs weren't already jelly, they are now.

"I knew you couldn't resist me." He stands up and puffs out his chest, offering you his hand again, which you take this time.

"Don't be an idiot." You flush. "The lake just looks inviting today."

"Whatever you say, sweetheart." He chuckles, before his arm wraps around your waist so he can throw you over his shoulder and tip you into the canoe.

"Seokjin!" Your knuckles whiten with how hard you grip the edge of the boat that tilts left to right sickeningly with the impact of your limp body being man handled into the hull. "Be careful!"

"Okay, okay. Just sit back. Relax. Enjoy the view..." You wobble over to the wooden seat opposite him, grateful for the way the boat balances out on the surface of the water. "Let me take care of everything."

You have to admit the view is beautiful. Dangling your hand over the edge of the boat, you let your fingers swirl through the cool water, and listen to the hum of a speedboat nearby. The sun has turned the water a yellowish hue, like liquid gold.

When you look back up at Seokjin, the sight of his lightly perspiring skin glowing beneath the stream of light as he unties the left oar practically takes your breath away. You almost want to reach out and see what it would feel like to touch his cheek, run your hand down his chest where his flesh peeks out from the top of his dress shirt...

"Ah, shit!"

There's a light splash and you're snapped out of your trance, a pair of sheepish eyes staring back at you.

Yeah. Never mind.

Seokjin peers over the edge of the boat, watching as one of the oars floats into the middle of the lake. The canoe has already floated just out of reach of the dock, so without it you are stranded.

You let out a panicked groan. "I thought you knew how to steer this thing?"

"I do!" He grunts, a flush creeping up his neck. "Besides, I said I knew how, not that I was good at it."

He fumbles with the latch beneath his seat which opens to reveal a secret compartment, inside of which are a pair of life jackets, and, much to your relief, a spare oar.

"Aha! We're saved." Seokjin pulls it out and waves it at you with a look of satisfaction.

You roll your eyes and settle back into your seat as Seokjin grasps both oars and starts to row. "Wow, my hero."

"Don't thank me too hard." He snorts.

You shoot him a look, and he breaks into laughter, the sound melodic enough to have you joining in and before you know it you're both chortling uncontrollably. It feels easy, nice.

Your laughter dies out into a hazy giggle, and you shut your eyes, letting the sun caress your face.

"You're nothing like how I expected you to be, y'know."

Seokjin splashes you gently with the oar. "What did you expect?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Stuck up, selfish rich dude with an ego complex?" You snort, but Seokjin's chuckles have disappeared now. His brows are furrowed when you open your eyes, and you feel sort of bad for ruining the ease that had settled between you. You shift awkwardly. "Can you blame me?"

"Huh," The boat floats beneath the shade of a weeping willow, the scent of white blossoms and freshly cut grass filling your senses, and Seokjin hauls the oars into the boat so he can rest for a while. "You know, it pisses me off that everyone sees me that way. I don't want to be that guy."

"Why?" You're surprised by his honesty. There's a sincerity in his voice that you've never heard before.

"I just...I just try and fit in. To make everyone happy, I guess."

He avoids your gaze, looking out over the lake with his chin in his palm and his shoulders slumped. Your heart twists.

"If it helps, I don't see you as that guy anymore." You shrug. "When we first met I thought you were just like everyone else at Paradise. But you're...different from everyone around here. Nice. Underneath all the designer of course." That earns a snort from him. "Why do you hide that side of yourself?"

"You're hardly one to talk about hiding, kitchen girl." He crosses his legs and points a finger at you. "One minute you're calling me a douche and shooting arrows like an Olympian and the next you're getting all insecure when I call you pretty or something."

You feel a blush rise in your cheeks. Insecure? Is that how he sees you?

"Do not." You mumble.

"You act like you're so much better than me for being good, and then have a fit when I say something nice."

"Well, I never asked you to call me pretty. That wasn't part of the deal." You pick at an invisible piece of lint on your skirt. "I figured you were humouring me."

Seokjin's eyes turn serious. He leans forward, like he's about to take your hand or something but changes his mind.

"I know...that what we have is weird. I know I ask you for a lot, and we're supposed to be strictly friends with benefits but—" He sighs, trying to find the right words."I like spending time with you. Like this. Just us."

You feel giddy, suddenly shy beneath his gaze. "I do too."

"And I always mean what I say, Y/N." A breeze ruffles his hair, and he shoots you a grin. "Like I said earlier, whoever gets to call you theirs is one lucky bastard."

I'll be yours, you want to say, but you know it would be futile; someone like Seokjin could never belong to you, and that's exactly why you don't belong here.

"Oh shit."

Before you can respond, Seokjin's expression is turning grave as you both watch with matching horror as the spare oar splashes into the lake.

"Please tell me there's another one underneath there." You nod towards the storage compartment with wide eyes.

"Nope." He scratches his neck awkwardly and shrugs."That was our only one."

"Then shouldn't we call for help or something?!"

"No, I have an idea. You lean over the edge and I'll hold your legs."

"Me?! Why can't you do it."

"Because I'm heavier, duh? I'll tip the boat." He links his fingers together pleadingly. "At least try, or else we'll be stuck out here all night!"

You cup your hand around your watch face to block the glaring sun. Your kitchen shift starts in forty five minutes and you can't afford to be late. Namjoon will certainly fire you on the spot.

"Fine!" You wobble to your feet and slide over to his side of the boat. "But you better not let go, or I'll kill you."

Seokjin salutes. "Scouts honour."

Before you can change your mind, Seokjin has both hands wrapped around your thighs and you're sent hurtling head first over the edge of the boat, face inches from the water's surface.

With a grunt you extend your arm, and your fingertips barely brush the oar, sending it further away.

"Fuck!" You call over your shoulder. Seokjin is red in the face with extortion, and you feel the boat rock as you lean further out. "I can't go any more or we'll tip!"

"Just a little more!" Seokjin yells back. "You've almost got it."

"Okay...almost..." You shift a little more and aha! The oar is just within your grasp! Until you hear a low buzzing coming from behind you, and you hear Seokjin yelp, his grip on your legs starting to slacken... "Jin? what are you doing?"

"Get off me!" He yells, letting go of you in favour of slapping something on his shoulder wildly, and before you can give him a piece of your mind the canoe loses its balance and tips upside down, sending the pair of you hurtling into the lake.

You manage to hold your breath before you go under. The water is an icy shock on such a warm summers day, your limbs flying into action and scrambling wildly until you break the surface and take a heaving breath.

Wiping the tendrils of dripping hair from your eyes, you glance around for Seokjin, but he's no where to be seen.

"Seokjin?" You call, panic evident in your voice. "Where are you?"

Bubbles appear on the surface of the water, and before you can let out a sigh of relief, a hand grabs your ankle and yanks you back under the water.

When you surface, choking and spluttering, you're beneath the cover of the upturned canoe. Seokjin grins at you, whole and in one piece and perfectly alive, and you can't help but feel pranked.

"Hey, sweetheart." He drawls, running his fingers through his soaking hair. The shadow of the rippling water reflects on the underside of the canoe, turning his skin a pale blue. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Seokjin!" You yell and he jumps when you start splashing him wildly. "What the fuck was that?"

He shields his face with his hands."It was a bee! I'm allergic."

"So? I was hanging out of a fucking canoe!"

"Oops." He's chortling now, and it echoes beneath the canoe. "Did I let go?"

You splash him again, and he grabs your hands with his to stop you from sending another tsunami his way. His palms are warm compared to your clammy ones and his eyes are watching you fondly, but that just pisses you off even more. "Okay! Okay! I get it, I'm sorry okay?"

"You idiot! Now I'm all wet and I'm totally going to smell like trout at work and—"

"Just shut up for a second would you?" A hand brushes the tangles of wet hair from your cheek, and before you know it a pair of plump lips are crashing against your own.

"Mmf!"

You're surprised at first, but there's something so tender in the way his hand cups your chin to pull you closer, how his arm curls around your waist, and before you know it you're grabbing him by the collar and kissing him back wildly like the world is ending and you're the last two people on earth.

"You're kinda cute when you're mad." Is what Seokjin whispers against your lips when he pulls back, out of breath.

"Oh." You breathe, a smile beginning to play on your lips. "Okay."

It's like you're in your own little bubble. Just Seokjin and you. You and Seokjin.

Until it bursts.

"Holy shit! Are you guys okay?" The sun is glaringly bright when the canoe is ripped away from your heads, and you have to squint through your fingers to see the figure swimming towards you.

"M-mr Kim?"

Seokjin jumps back from your body at the sound of his title, his hand letting go of your wrist. It falls into the water limply.

"That's me." He coughs, straightening his tie, like he isn't soaking wet and it's somehow going to make him look more professional.

"I didn't know you were rowing today..." Your eyes focus, and you instantly recognise Taehyung, the Paradise lifeguard. You have met a couple times at staff meetings.

Shit. You turn your face to the side, and hope he won't look to closely.

"I wasn't." Seokjin deadpans, gesturing to his soaking appearance. "Y/N and I thought we would go for a swim."

"I— oh." You muffle a chuckle at Seokjin's sarcasm and the wide eyes of the life guard who seems utterly stunned.

It doesn't seem so funny when he turns to you suddenly, eyes scrutinising, and offers you his elbow.

"Here take my arm, we have to get you two dry."

You glance at Seokjin carefully, but he just nods for you to go ahead, so you take Taehyung's arm and let him pull you back to the dock, Seokjin leisurely kicking on his back behind you like he doesn't have a care in the world.

Once you're safely on dry land, Taehyung disappears into the boat shed before returning with a pair of towels which he drapes around your shoulders with a concerned look.

"Take these. You aren't hurt, miss?"

"No." Seokjin answers for you with a roll of his eyes. There's a bite in his tone. Is he...jealous?

"Good, this is why we say no boats after 4..." Taehyung sends Seokjin a stern look, and you feel the tension rise when he just clicks his tongue in response. "I should really report this to my supervisor."

"We won't do it again," Seokjin's eyes bulge when you grab Taehyung's forearm. The lifeguard seems surprised himself, looking you in the eyes for the first time. You turn on a sickly sweet tone and bat your lashes. "We can keep this between us, hm?"

"I...I suppose so." Taehyung coughs, but then his eyes narrow. "Hold on a second. Do I know you from somewhere?"

Your mouth turns dry. "I..."

"No!" Seokjin jumps in between you, wrapping a protective arm around your shoulder. "She's not from around here."

His face has turned a deep shade of red, and you can feel his heart beating rapidly against your back. Anyone would think he was embarrassed. Then again, what did you expect? You are just a kitchen girl after all.

You nod slowly. He sighs with relief. "No. We've never met."

Taehyung scratches his chin, stepping back to get a better look at you. "It's just you look super familiar..."

"We have to be going now!" Seokjin stands up suddenly and grabs you by the hand. He squeezes extra tight, swinging your interlocked fingers where Taehyung can clearly see them. "Thanks, uh...Taehyung?"

"My pleasure, Mr. Kim." The lifeguard looks startled by Seokjin's sudden departure, but steps back to let you pass. "Be careful next time okay?"

"Yup, we will kid."

"Thanks!" You call over your shoulder, as Seokjin is already dragging you away from the lake and up the steps to the grand veranda that lines the resort.

"Thanks?" He rolls his eyes. "Y/N, the lake is like a foot deep, it's not like we were gonna drown."

"He was nice..." You bump his shoulder playfully. "Why? You jealous?"

His cheeks flush pink. "No! Of course not, I just...didn't like the way he looked at you."

You reach the top of the steps, and Seokjin slows down to a leisurely walk once he's in the clear. From here you can see the whole of the resort, sprawling greenery and luxury living in all its glory.

"Speaking of, that was a close one." You laugh. "He totally almost recognised me."

"Yeah." Seokjin laughs too, but then his face drops. "You're right. That was close."

"Seokjin?"

He stops, and turns towards you. His hand drops to your waist, lifting you up so you're sat on the balcony's edge, and then his mouth is capturing yours once again.

This time something feels different. It's desperate, but timid. Passionate but broken. It leaves you breathless.

He pulls away first.

"Jin, what just happened—"

"I..." He swallows thickly and looks away. "I shouldn't have done that. I've gotta go. I'm sorry."

It's then, as he turns and hurries down the back staircase towards the plaza and leaves you all alone on the veranda, that you realise you had never let go of his hand, not even for a second.

"I had fun tonight." Seokjin says as he drops you off at the Paradise gates after an evening spent perusing high fashion wedding venue magazines with Hyejin over tea and finger sandwiches. "Hyejin looked like she was on the verge of a stroke when I suggested walking down the aisle to The Thong Song."

Seokjin boasts a simple T-shirt and tailored pants tonight, the turtle neck draped over his shoulder unnecessary on such a warm and sticky summer night blessed by the lingering caress of the day's blazing sun. The drive slopes downwards, Seokjin's angular shadow a contrast against the twinkling lights that blur Paradise into a picturesque backdrop of pristine white brick, and a warmth spreads through your chest as he beams at you.

"I thought it was a fine choice," You muse, suppressing a giggle when you think back to the way Hyejin dropped her teacup at Seokjin's suggestion, eye twitching in disgust. "We're not even engaged yet and she already has our entire wedding planned out."

Oops. Seokjin stiffens. Your laughter comes to an abrupt stop, face reddening with embarrassment at your slip up. Of course you aren't engaged. You never will be. At least not to each other.

He's been weird like that, lately. Ever since that day at the lake when he left abruptly, seemingly shaken up, you've been walking on egg shells around him. One wrong word could send him flying away with that same scared look in his eye. And honestly, you still don't understand why.

All you know is that things have been different since you almost got caught at the lake. Sure, you've continued to hook up like normal, but Seokjin seems to be making a conscious effort to be more distant around you. You haven't talked about what happened that afternoon on the veranda, but it's clear something did; Seokjin hasn't kissed you since.

If Seokjin notices your poor word choice, he doesn't mention it. "Pretty sure she has my entire life planned out too." He murmurs almost bitterly, despite his face boasting a smile that doesn't quite meet his eyes. You figure it's better not to press him further.

He walks beside you to the end of the drive in a relative silence that feels all too loud — not awkward per se but filled with a definite unspoken tension that has you hiding behind your hair, eyes trained to the ground because you don't know how you are supposed to look at Seokjin when it was just you and him.

Moments like this, not heightened by passion or under the watchful eyes of his family are rarities. You take a deep breath and try to savour the taste of geraniums which lingers in the air from the gardens and the closest thing to normal you have ever experienced around Seokjin.

Despite the the emotional distance Seokjin seems intent on keeping in place, every physical step seems to edge you closer to him, eyes trained to the way his shoes sidestep until you are practically shoulder to shoulder. Seokjin doesn't so much as look at you as he does so and you are content to think he is too deep in his own thoughts to notice the way your bodies cling to each other like magnets, until the tips of his fingers brush against your palm in a delicate touch that may have been perceived as intimate had he not ripped it away with a pained expression, like he touched an electric fence or something.

You have admit that you felt it too. The spark as they describe it in romance movies. It was more of a tingle really, warm and fuzzy as it fizzed all the way from your hand to a spot in your chest suspiciously close to your heart that was beating a little faster now as you imagine how it would feel if he took your hand in his.

Except he doesn't. And when you glance up at him he is no longer engaged with his own thoughts but rather staring at you with a questioning look, brows slightly furrowed, and embarrassment replaces the fuzz in your veins when you consider for a moment that perhaps he was reading your mind and the completely inappropriate thoughts for a fake bride to have for her fake husband along with it.

The flush that caresses your cheeks is nearly as vibrant as the rose bushes which line the drive, perfectly pruned and as beautiful beneath lantern light as they are in the day and a perfect reminder of your embarrassment as you create a relative distance between your body and his. That way you were sure you could keep your hands - and your thoughts - strictly to yourself.

Far too quickly you find yourself turning the corner onto the street where you always part ways, the stoney gravel evening out into the same boring old scuffed concrete that winds through the entire city, a clear indication that you were leaving behind the Paradise grounds and entering the not so pristine visual of reality.

Usually you were glad to be on your way, sick of talking about neck lines and lace types and the way your shoulders ached from nodding politely at people who got wine drunk on weekdays but tonight you feel like you could keep walking with Seokjin forever in this strange bubble of unspoken words.

But you know as soon as he stops dead beside you that the bubble has already burst, floating away just out of your grasp like the false reality you live at Paradise.

"I'll be going then." It's quiet out here, not a trace of the music from Jazz night at the bar or the laughter of couples crossing the plaza to their suites after a few too many Chardonnays. Seokjin opens his mouth and then closes it again while you fidget awkwardly. "Thanks for a good night."

The way you say it sounds like he took you on a real date, one that you were supposed to thank him for. It's too late by the time you realize that a boundary has been overstepped when Seokjin doesn't return the genuine smile you shoot him as you turn to leave.

"Wait!" The click of your shoes against the sidewalk halts at the serious husk in his tone, jarringly loud against the silence. "I need to ask you something."

His face is partially lit by the street lamp you find yourself beneath, casting half of his face in a golden glow that emphasizes the shadow of his lashes against his cheeks when he closes his eyes, as if to briefly collect his words.

Despite your better judgement, probably blinded by the normality you had fallen into, you press him further. "What is it?"

"Listen Y/N..." Seokjin scratches the back of his neck and you shift awkwardly in front of him, chest suddenly tightening with a niggling dread. "You haven't told anyone about us have you?"

"Us?" Your eyes widen. Since when did Seokjin start referring to you as a pair? You tilt your head quizzically. "I mean, your sister and your parents know —

"No, I mean the things that we...do in private." The summer evening suddenly turns chilly. Seokjin must notice when your face drops, the way you hug your arms to try and keep hold of the warmth that had practically singed each of your nerve endings just a moment ago.

"Things?" You splutter. "Is that all they are to you?"

You can't help it. The way Seokjin talks when you are intimate, the way he kissed you so desperately that day on the veranda -- it made it feel like those moments meant more to him. He was damn convincing - when he told you that he wanted you, you believed him - and you can't help but feel cheated.

Seokjin's brow simply furrows, flummoxed by your sudden outburst. "Yeah, I mean we had an agreement — isn't that all they are to you?"

An agreement.

The way he says it sounds like your relationship is strictly business. As if he's paying you for a service - which, in his own way, you suppose he is. Sure, you knew he wasn't really going to fall in love with you in the way he told his family he loved you but you thought he at least felt something — no, you were sure he had at the lake. Maybe you were just confusing pleasure with intimacy.

Still, the way his finger points at you accusingly makes a hot rage rise in your chest but you simply take a shaky breath and plaster the closest thing to a grin on your features as you can muster.

"Of course they are." The sweetness in your voice is a little too forced, but it goes unnoticed on Seokjin who lets out a sigh of relief. "None of this means anything. I know that."

"Good. Then we're on the same page..." He still looks slightly unconvinced - you can just make out the way he narrows his eyes doubtfully in the dim light - but he doesn't have time to press further before a black car rolls into the drive and he clasps your wrist to pull you across the paving and into the shadows. "Watch out!"

Seokjin suddenly yanks you closer to him, your chest nearly pressed up to his. You almost mumble a thanks, idiotic enough to think that his only motive is to prevent you getting flattened by a Mercedes Benz nearly invisible in the night if not for the crunch of tyres against gravel.

But then you feel his breath hitch when he catches a glimpse of your white kitchen uniform reflected in one of the tinted car windows, sending a salute towards the security guard in the drivers seat with fingers crossed behind his back, and you silently condemn yourself for thinking he cared about anything other than his reputation even for a second. You go numb.

You look between your bodies where your hand dangles limply in his grasp. Just a moment ago you were envisioning how it would feel for him to hold your hand in his, the way his skin brushed yours enough to give you shivers. Now it just made the hollow ache in your chest throb with a cold emptiness.

Seokjin strains his neck, only releasing you from his hold when the glow of headlights disappears around a corner and you are smothered by darkness again.

Seokjin's sigh of relief stings. The words never leave his lips but you can tell what he was thinking. Phew, now I don't have to explain why I, almighty Kim Seokjin, was conversing with a staff member after hours. Lucky escape!

A smile appears on his face, as if you were supposed to share his relief. "So, same time tomorrow?"

You feel yourself stagger away from him in shock. Seokjin is many things but you didn't think he was heartless. It's enough to send you over the edge.

"Clearly we are not on the same page." You spit. "Actually, you know what? No. I'm busy tomorrow."

Seokjin scoffs, running a hand through his hair. "Doing what?"

"I have things to do." Your emphasis on the word makes his eyes widen,

"Oh great!" He barely raised his voice before glances behind him warily, making sure there was no one around to see him getting heated. When he turns back his voice is nothing but a harsh whisper. "And what do you expect me to tell my family, huh?"

"Tell them that your fiancé to be had to go do the job they actually pay her to do." The way he laughs breathily makes your fists clench at your sides as you turn on your heels and stalk down the street before he can see the way your face reddens with a combination of hurt and anger, though not before you are calling over your shoulder despite knowing it would only fuel the fire. "Unless you're too embarrassed to tell them who I really am."

"You don't seem to mind when you're cashing in your favours." He calls after you, hands on hips with a bitterness lacing his voice that makes your heart twist painfully.

You hear the way your pulse quickens, the lump in your throat growing bigger and bigger as you stop dead. "What?"

"Y/N, I didn't mean that I —"

"So that's what this is? You are embarrassed of me?" Your voice raises incredulously.  "Is that why you've been so weird with me since Taehyung almost recognised me at the lake? You're scared someone will snitch on you to your rich friends?"

"No, I--"

"No what, Jin?" You let out a hollow laugh. "I thought I meant more to you than that."

Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's just you and I...we could never be anything more, you know that right? I don't want you to get the wrong idea. We don't come from the same background and it would be..." He pauses. "Inappropriate."

"It's too late, anyway. Forget I said anything." Tears streak your cheeks hotly and you hide behind your hair, determined to hide your weakness from him. "This was a mistake."

You start to walk away, but then you're running, as fast as you can away from Paradise and all the hurt. The sound of Seokjin's tennis shoes hitting the concrete picks up as he follows you down the path, calling your name, and for a moment you think he's going to comfort you. Tell you that he was sorry and that none of this was meaningless to him after all.

But he doesn't.

"I'll text you!" Is the last thing he calls before you disappear around the corner out of sight. You want to sneak a look over your shoulder, see him standing there at the end of the street beneath the street light.

Instead you resist, letting the bitterness pooling in your stomach rise up and burn your throat like bile. "Don't bother!"

Either he listened or he didn't mean it when he said he would text you.

The anger that ran hot through your bloodstream after your fight with Seokjin has faded to nothing but an indescribable emptiness and regret.

You haven't heard from him in three days. That is a long time where Seokjin is concerned and completely out of character.

Even on normal days, when you had a day off from pretending to be his fiancé, Seokjin would find a way to make you laugh by sending you a low angle selfie from the dinner table at one of his father's business conferences or a cheeky message to let you know he'd just seen you walk past the golf court wearing the red sundress that he liked.

You couldn't remember when Seokjin became a normal part of your day. Just like brushing your teeth or washing your hair, you had become almost expectant of a vibration against your thigh at work or the ping! of your ringtone before you went to sleep or even a heated make out behind the restaurant when you just couldn't wait any longer.

So when it all suddenly came to a stop, you were sure you were going crazy. All you were left with was a feeling of emptiness, as if something vital was missing.

It wasn't even as if he owed you anything, not really - it was true that the romance wasn't real and even the sex was just sex to him; but at some point you had to admit you had crossed some kind of invisible barrier. In between lying to his family, public "dates" flavoured by champagne and hanging off his forearm at celebratory cocktail parties, you and Seokjin had become friends.

(Sort of. If you ignored the parts where his lips made you lose your breath or the night's that ended with his head between your legs.)

So god forbid you expected something from him after your fight the other night. A sign that he cared, if even a little bit. An apology for the way he'd deliberately tried to hurt you.

That's how you find yourself checking your phone anxiously on your kitchen shift breaks, refreshing your inbox obsessively and trying to ignore the heaviness weighing down your chest with each passing hour without even so much as one of the cheesy emojis he used way too frequently to be ironic lighting up your screen.

He even stopped dropping by the restaurant under the guise of a casual lunch like he usually did. You found yourself on edge, breath fogging up the glass of the window with your disappointment every time you heard the door zip open and you rushed to greet him, only to be met with someone utterly not Kim Seokjin.

You thought you saw his broad figure dipping into one of the other restaurants across the plaza instead one afternoon as you left work and you couldn't help but wonder if he shamelessly flirted with the kitchen staff there, too.

It hurts knowing that it was so easy for him to cut you out of his life completely when he had become such a constant part of yours. It hurts knowing that he probably wasn't even thinking of you when he was the only thing on your mind.

And to make matters worse, it seems that the tight smiles and vacant nods you shoot Jimin as he divulges the latest and greatest Paradise gossip he overheard while serving at some fancy dinner party last night didn't do a good job at hiding the melancholy gloom which hangs over your head.

He's still talking as you swipe your cards to check out of work, charmingly holding the door ajar for you to slip outside the restaurant where you told Jungkook you'd wait for him to join you.

The air is cooler than expected against your face, the first time that summer where the sky is covered by splotches of grey cloud that refuse to let any blue peek through like an ugly patchwork quilt that mirrors your ugly mood.

"Y/N, didn't your hear me? Mr Kim's wife literally grabbed him by the balls and threw him out of the building when she caught him cheating with the waitress — wait, are you okay?"

Jimin is already half way down the limestone stairs, too caught up in his own dramatic storytelling to notice the way you stand rigid at the top. The phone in your palm is lit up with the same three words that have haunted you all day — NO NEW MESSAGES — but Jimin's question breaks your trance for a moment.

"Huh? No, I'm fine." You assure, slipping the device into your back pocket, swallowing thickly and mustering up a watery smile you hope will appease him before he can ask any more questions.

It doesn't work.

"You've been acting weird all day." Your legs feel wobbly as you close the distance between you, like the very foundations of your body are beginning to give in to the weight that has set up camp in your chest no matter how hard you try to ignore it.

"I have?" Jimin is peering at you with narrowed eyes, not malicious necessarily but inquisitive. They narrow further when you sigh shakily, averting your gaze to the shirtless gardener who mows the green lawns that spread out as far as the eye can see into perfect lines, counting the distant rose bushes as a distraction from the impending tears that have begun to well. "I don't want to talk about it."

Jimin throws an arm around your shoulder a little too roughly to be comforting, following your stagnant gaze. "Damn he's kinda cute." The lack of witty remark from you when he lands a jokey punch to your shoulder seems to finally perk Jimin's attention. "Tell me, are you and Mr Kim Seokjin having trouble in Paradise?"

Jimin lets out a snort at his own pun before he spots the sullen look on your face, covering his impending chuckle with a cough and releasing you from his grasp to sling his hands in his pockets awkwardly. "Oh shit, really?"

You simply sniff in response, allowing that to be confirmation enough, slumping down onto the grand staircase and letting your face fall into your hands.

Jimin plonks down beside you, sidling up until your knees touch, the simple act of comfort making the tears that had been threatening to emerge all day prick hotly at the corners of your eyes.

"I messed up, Jimin." Your voice is muffled by your palms but that doesn't mask the way it wavers slightly, Jimin's hand immediately rubbing soothing circles into your back. "I think he's mad at me."

"Why?"

"Because I basically told him that I kind of have feelings for him—"

"You did what?" Jimin grabs you by the elbow, alerting the atention of a guy in a velour tuxedo leaving the restaurant who gives the hot tears staining your cheeks a funny look. "Hold up, go back. You have feelings for Seokjin?"

Even with vision blurred by tears you can see the wide eyed expression on Jimin's face. You cross your arms in a pout. "Well you don't need to say it like that."

"Like what?"

"Like the idea is completely crazy or something."

Jimin runs an exasperated hand through his hair. "So you mean the truth?"

It isn't the way he says it so much as the realisation that he is right that stings. You bow your head, a few silent tears rolling down your cheeks until you can taste their saltiness. "I know, I know. I'm not good enough for a person like him, I was stupid—"

Jimin shakes his head gently, placing his palms firmly on both of your shoulders and forcing you to face him head on. "Listen up because I'm about to serve you a cup of piping hot real shit, okay?"

You wipe your nose noisily on your sleeve, giving him a curt nod. "Okay."

"The reason you and Seokjin will never work out has nothing to do with you so I won't accept any of that mopey shit." Jimin shakes you vigorously as if he is knocking some sense into you, and you offer him a tearful giggle. "Truth is, Seokjin can't see a good thing when he has it because there is no room in his rich ass heart for anything other than money and his reputation."

"But—"

"No buts!" Jimin shucks up his sleeves until they cover his hands like paws, using the fabric to dab away your tears, unphased by the growing damp spots on both of his cuffs. "The sooner you realise that Seokjin's issues are not your issues the better."

Your tears are dry now. You're pretty sure Jimin's pep talk ended your momentary wobble but your voice still sounds slightly hoarse when you speak. "It just felt like more when we...you know..." You wave your hands around wildly hoping Jimin will fill in the blank, which he does with a click of his tongue.

"Then you need to stop sleeping with him immediately."

"What?"

"You know what I think?" Jimin links his arm with yours, pulling you alongside him. "I think that you're confusing intimacy with actual feelings."

Maybe he's right. It's natural for emotions to be heightened when Seokjin is making you literally fall apart beneath him, probably for him too which would explain the intimate things he had said. Perhaps all this time you were just confusing loving the way he made you feel for loving...him. After all, you had always thought the regular Seokjin was kind of an asshat at times. Of course you didn't have feelings for him!

"You know what? I think you're right." Jimin raises his eyebrows in surprise, as if he was expecting you to be harder to win around. You slap a palm to your forehead. "I can't believe I actually thought I caught feelings for him for a second."

"Happens to the best of us." Jimin grins. "If I was getting dicked down by that beautiful god of a man then I'd want to have his babies too. Imagine how cute they'd be..."

"Jimin!" You smack him playfully before leaning across to rest your head on his shoulder, his chuckles vibrating against your cheek. "You just basically told me he's an asshole."

"And I stand by that!" He defends, letting his own cheek rest against your hair. "But you can't deny that he is fucking inhumanely gorgeous..."

"Are we talking about Kim Seokjin again?" A dry voice appears somewhere behind, making you jump and pause your laughter. A glance over your shoulder reveals none other than Jungkook, arms crossed and a sullen vibe emanating from the way his thick brows furrow so deeply they almost connect. Come to think of it, he always seems to be moody where Seokjin is involved. Huh.

"Why? Are you gonna try and tell me that he's not that buff again?" Jimin scoffed, stiffening ever so slightly beside you and refusing to even glance in Jungkook's direction.

"No, I just don't see why we have to always talk about him." Jungkook puffs, blowing his bangs out of his eyes bitterly. "Besides, I just saw him outside the kitchen and his body isn't that good. I'd hardly say 'sculpted'."

Huh? Seokjin? Outside the kitchen...

Neither of the boys seem to share your bewilderment, launching into a spat heavy with a tension that had been building long before. "And what would you know, anyway?"

"I go to the gym!" Jungkook flexes his arm, earning a scoff from Jimin to which he frowns. "Look!"

"You saw Seokjin where?"  You breathe, butting into the squabble and drawing two startled looks when you jolt to your feet, wiping off the back of your leggings.

"O-outside the kitchen...why? I assumed he was waiting for you..." Jungkook is wide eyed, blinking with a lack of understanding considering his previous absence. Jimin has already wrapped his hand around your wrist to pin you in place.

"He is?" You nibble your lip.

You imagine him leaning up against the wall outside the kitchen, probably looking at his watch impatiently as he waits for your shift to finish. He never could wait for long so perhaps he'd even already left, storming off to go let his anger out in a game of extremely competitive table tennis with a retired CEO in the lounge.

But there's a chance he is still there and that he was waiting for you and even though every fibre of your being screams that it is a bad idea, you just want to see if it was true. If he really was thinking about you. If you'd misjudged him after all and a part of him did care.

"Y/N this is a bad idea." You're already bounding down the steps when Jimin tugs you back to offer a slice of reality. "Remember what we just talked about? Not catching feelings." He draws the last word out and wiggles his eyebrows which only makes Jungkook even more confused.

"It'll be fine Jimin," You brush him off though it sounds a little like you are pleading with him. Carefully dislodging your wrist from his grip, you plaster a reassuring smile to you face that doesn't seem to appease his anxious foot tapping. "I won't let him get inside my head. I'm not confused anymore, see?"

"Fine. Knock yourself out." Jimin steps back, gesturing for you to go forth which you do far too quickly for his liking, flashing him a thumbs up before turning your back and disappearing down the steps before he can protest any further. "But promise to call me immediately if you get horny feelings again!"

The way your heart thumps in your chest as you speed walk around the building has to be unhealthy.

You slow down as you get closer to the corner that obscures the back of the restaurant from view, taking cover behind a bush pruned into a perfect ball.

There he is.

Your breath hitches. It's almost as if your brain tricked you into believing he was a figment of your imagination these past few days without him. Like you made the whole thing up. But no, here he is and he's breathing and he has blood pumping through him just like you and he's so real that it hits you like a freight train.

For the first time this evening, the sun pokes it's head out from behind the clouds, a small crack opening up in the sky that sends a stream of soft golden light cascading across him. And almost as if in unison, it feels like the light shines right through the Seokjin shaped cracks in your heart as you watch his eyes flutter shut at the kiss of warmth and his arms reach above his head to lean into the light in a leisurely stretch.

It almost feels like you are seeing him for the first time all over again.

If Seokjin didn't let out a sigh of impatience in exactly the way you imagined he would, shaking his head and throwing his hands into the pockets of his gym shorts in defeat, you would have been content to just watch from the sidelines like you promised Jimin you would.

Perhaps you wouldn't have rushed out from behind your camouflage of foliage, sending a garden gnome flying in a crash of broken china in your haste. And even more importantly, perhaps you wouldn't have found yourself calling out for him to stop.

"Seokjin!" Your voice sounds small but the word flies out before you can slap your hand over your mouth to keep it in. It's familiar on your tongue, like coming back home after a long trip, and you savour the taste.

"Y/N?"

Seokjin stills at the crunch of your shoes approaching him tentatively, shoulders squared as if weighing up his options - fight or flight? - and just as you think you are mistaken and he didn't want to see you after all, he's taking flight - straight towards you and drawing you into his arms in an uncomfortably tight bear hug.

His chest hits yours with a force that makes you literally lose your breath, hairs on your arms rising as you feel his warmth encapsulate you completely like a comforting blanket.

The sudden embrace stuns you to a shocked silence, arms pressed to your sides stiffly as he buries his nose in your hair and takes a deep inhale. Is Kim Seokjin smelling your hair?

You have to admit the scent of his cologne makes you giddy, a little woodier around the edges than you remember it to be which you put down to the still slightly sticky and sweaty gym clothes hugging his torso. Under normal circumstances you would've been grossed out but the heightened thump of your heart in your ears acts as an ample distraction.

For a moment you forget about Paradise and the argument and the door to the kitchen beside you that could open at any moment. It's just you and him again, and you're melting.

You could stay like this forever, if his grip didn't tighten considerably, as if he was trying to squeeze the breath straight out of you and hold that too, and you are pushing his chest away from your body with a cough. "Jin — can't breathe!"

Seokjin lets you go — reluctantly, settling for holding you at arms length instead — and you are sure you spot his neck flush at the nickname you used accidentally.

"Sorry." His gaze dips to your feet and then drags all the way back to your puzzled eyes as if he is taking all of you in, like you had changed since he last saw you or something as if that wasn't just three days before. A lazy smile appears on his face. "Missed you, that's all."

His words are slightly breathless and punctuated by a shake of his head as if he can't quite believe he's saying them either and the honesty is so unlike him it makes your chest ache.

"Then why didn't you call?" There's a snipe in your words that seems to jolt him out of his sunny disposition, mouth downturning into a frown, arms dropping from your shoulders and going limp at his sides instead as if he is coming to his senses. "You're the one that's been avoiding me."

His shoulders droop awkwardly. "I'm sorry."

"It just didn't make sense why you would stop talking to me—."

"No, not for avoiding you — well I am sorry for that," He explains. "I mean for the things I said. The other night."

You furrow your brows, stunned. "Why?"

"It was mean and...truthfully I couldn't face you because of it." He drags a hand down his face and presses his back to the wall in defeat, giving you a perfect view of the regret that makes his jaw tighten.

With a sigh you sidle up next to him, careful to leave enough space between you so that your arms don't touch. Deja vu masks the ordeal and you realise it's all too similar to the first time you met in this very spot, watching the very same plaza except today it's still bustling with life beneath the orange glow of the setting sun and you have to squint to see it clearly.

You clear your throat. "I thought it was because of the things I said. About us."

"No!" His exclamation is a little too quick, too loud, and he looks embarrassed, following it up with a gruff "Don't be stupid."

"Well don't worry. While you've been avoiding me I've had plenty of time to think it over and you were right after all."

His nose scrunches, a habit of his you've noticed before that gives him an air of innocence. "I was?"

"Yeah, I think I must have had a few too many glasses of champagne at dinner that night." Your laugh is hoarse with the effort it takes to force it past your lips. "I'm happy with our agreement how it is. You don't need to worry about me going all crazy on you again."

"That's...good." His adam's apple bobs. He seems unconvinced by his own words. "Good. I'm glad."

Then he smiles and your heart throbs so hard it could explode so you just smile back and join in with his nervous laughter.

"So we're okay?"

"We're okay."

There's nothing left to say; now it's clear where you both stand. So why is Seokjin opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish?

"Is that all you came here to talk about?"

His laughter stops, and then he coughs and puffs out his chest, returning somewhat to the cocky Seokjin you are used to.

"Actually I was thinking...it's getting kind of late. It would be bad mannered of me to let you walk home alone."

"Why? I always walk home alone?" Seokjin never seemed to possess the worry you can see in eyes before when he dropped you off outside the club and watched you disappear into the night multiple times a week.

"For protection. Just in case." He rolls his eyes, as if it should have been obvious.

"It's okay, I've got pepper spray in my bag plus it's like 5 PM—"

"No. Protection for me." He suddenly pleads. "My mind will start to wander if I go back to my apartment alone again."

Seokjin seems so serious you know you can't reject him now without your conscience taking a beating, so you choose to say nothing at all. You want to be there for him, but at the same time you know you're only going to get hurt. The toe of your shoe draws circles in the dirt. "I don't know what to say."

"How about you don't say anything and just come to my place instead?" Your neck snaps up. He's never invited you to his place before. It always seemed like an inappropriate boundary to cross considering you are hardly even friends let alone lovers. "That way we both win."

You smile and he seems relieved. "I guess, just for a little bit."

"Great! Think of this as you doing a favour for me."

"Again?" You roll your eyes teasingly.

"I repay you don't I?" He sees your face fall. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that—"

"I know." You butt in. "It's fine. Really."

A silence falls in the same way it did the night you fought and it seems neither of you know what to say next. Truthfully you're just glad he doesn't seem mad at you, his quiet company a familiarity that tells you nothing has changed between you.

That is until he leans in a little too close and his fingers brush your wrist. You swallow thickly and wait for him to push you away again, when you feel him hesitate.

This is supposed to be the part where he pushes you away again, looking at his hand in disgust or wiping it on the back of his pants like he touched something dirty.

Instead, he reaches between you to link his fingers carefully with yours. It's like you are suddenly filled with helium, at risk of floating away if the feeling of Seokjin's warmth beside you wasn't there holding you to the ground.

"Is this okay?" You ask with wide eyes, nodding down at where his slightly clammy palm smothers your own.

He nods. You melt.

"You were right, the other day." Seokjin squeezes your hand comfortingly. "I need to stop hiding how I really feel."

You've never been to the residents part of the resort before. You never dared. But truthfully, by the time you realise you are walking not floating, you are already half way across the plaza.

Seokjin guides you around the circular fountain spitting water from the mouth of a cherub, carried by the breeze as a fine mist that feels cold and refreshing against your hot cheeks and marches you up a marble staircase to the resident lodge which rises up out of the ground like a beautiful half moon of white brick, stylish balconies decked with jacuzzis, chiffon curtains and a sea of people who fit Seokjin's class perfectly.

A tired looking doorman stands posted to the entrance and despite feeling Seokjin stiffen beside you, he never lets go of your hand. Not even when the doorman gives you a once over, an eyebrow raising at your casual attire.

You wait for Seokjin to force the doorman to sign an oath of secrecy when his eyes widen at your interlinked fingers, except the moment never comes. He simply rubs his thumb across your knuckles soothingly, striding straight past the doorman and holding the gilded door open for you to slip through himself.

You mumble a thanks, letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding and hope Seokjin can't feel the way your heart thumps against your rib cage uncontrollably. For what reason you can't quite decide — is it because you're conditioned to fear getting caught with Seokjin or because he doesn't seem to care? 

Seokjin doesn't let go of you until he has to press the elevator button, and it feels ten degrees colder when he does. Your curious eyes take in the perfumed lobby, grand staircase winding upwards as far as the eye can see, lined with a carpet that's intricately embroidered with gold thread. Paintings line the walls which makes the place feel like some sort of museum and you half expect someone to ask you for an entry fee.

Then the elevator's ornate doors open with a ping you thought only existed in movies and Seokjin's hand is back and shuffling you into the elevator at the small of your back, refusing to leave even once you are inside.

The elevator is lined with polished mirrors and you do a double take when you make eye contact with your reflection, nearly reaching out and tapping the glass to check they are real and not the kind you find at a carnival that make everything look distorted. The way Seokjin pulls you closer to his side makes you look like any one of the other normal couples who frequent the resort, if you ignore the way your baggy cardigan contrasts his head to toe designer outfit.

Seokjin's too busy humming along to the classical music which crackles through the speakers overhead to notice the way your gaze travels to him. You know he wants to make you think that none of this affects him like it does you and his unbothered attitude would have worked had you not noticed the way his cheeks have a pinkish tinge, even in the dim yellow glow of the elevator.

The elevator opens, and you follow him down the hall only to find out Seokjin lives in one of the penthouses. You shouldn't be surprised but when he swipes a shiny key card and the lock beeps with a little green light that tells you the door is unlocked, you can't help the way your mouth gapes. Almost as if you were expecting it to flash red instead, denying you entrance and reminding you that you didn't belong in a place like this.

"Aren't you coming inside?" Seokjin has already crossed the threshold, wiping his polished shoes on the gaudy WELCOME mat inside while you stand awkwardly in the hallway, peeping through the crack of open door. You suddenly feel self conscious in your cardigan and leggings, as if you should've dressed up or something.

Seokjin seems to sense your hesitation, fingers finding your wrist with a smile. "You'll catch a cold out there."

He tugs and you don't resist, letting your feet follow him inside. "It's summer. And we're inside, Jin."

"Well how would I live with myself if I took the risk?" The click of the door locking echos from the high ceiling and you swallow thickly knowing there's no going back.

Inside, the suite looks like a luxury hotel room, like every last penny from the royal Mint had lived and died there.

It's open plan, the grand chandelier glimmering in the evening sun casting miniature rainbows across a living room consisting of pristinely white sofas sporting an array of throw cushions that look as though they have never been moved, collecting dust in the same way as the open magazine on the marble coffee table and the empty coffee mug beside it that look like they were placed there to create the illusion of the space being lived in.

Everything feels a little too pristine, a little too perfect like it materialised straight out of a furniture magazine.

The far wall is entirely glass, floor to ceiling windows looking out over a view of the entire resort; with a squint you can just make out the soft lights of the restaurant you know well, reflection shimmering like gold dust on the surface of the undisturbed public pool. An array of caddy boys on the golf courts collect stray balls and haul clubs back into the lodge and beyond that the vibrant gardens, a blur of pink roses and green hedges from where you stand but still a pleasant sight against the evenings pale blue sky.

Seokjin hums to himself as he flicks on all the lights, disappearing around a corner until you can't hear the click clack of his shoes against the tile anymore. You don't know if you are supposed to stay with knees knocking in the living room or if he was expecting you to follow him; but you presume the latter is true when his voice rings out into the room, jolting you from your shameless study of his living space.

"Have you eaten?" You shake your head in a silent no even though he can't see it, somehow managing to get your legs to carry you beneath a decorative arch and into the kitchen where Seokjin stands with his head ducked into a fancy looking fridge - even the most basic of appliances seem high tech, a touch pad visible on the front for what purpose you don't want to even ask. "I don't know about you but I'm famished."

"I was on my way to find something to eat when we — when you saw me, actually." The correction is quick but it makes your stomach feel funny. Since when did it start to feel normal to refer to you and Seokjin as a "we", as if you are anything but his accessory?

"Perfect." He emerges from the fridge with an armful of tupperware boxes balanced beneath his chin, foot kicking the door shut before he dumps the entire load onto the marble kitchen island that separates you from him.

"How about you stay for dinner?" He flashes you a small smile, corner of his mouth blowing the bangs out of his eyes, and your heart practically skips a beat.

It's just a formality surely, the polite thing to do. The Seokjin you knew was usually eager to get you out of his hair.

He is looking at you expectantly, your throat suddenly dry as you try to muster a response, an excuse. The word that immediately crosses your mind is no. This is dangerous and you know it. But then the bite in your stomach is back and despite knowing an I shouldn't be here in the first place would have been more appropriate, your lips betray you with a simple, "Yes." And the way that Seokjin's face lights up in surprise has every regret falling away as you relish in the knowledge that he is actually happy to have you.

"I thought I would have to bargain with you. You're usually stubborn with me." Shiny bar stools sit tucked beneath the little kitchen bar set up beside him, a few expensive looking champagne bottles littered across the surface. He pats one of the plush cushions in a gesture for you to sit which you graciously do, even as you scoff at his words and silently wonder why someone who lives alone needs so many seats.

"Because you're usually trying to get me to do something ridiculous." You chide. "And besides, I'm hungry."

"So you're just using me for my cooking skills, huh? I didn't think you were that kind of girl." Seokjin eyes you cheekily, hands fiddling with the dials on the stove with a pout. "How do you turn this thing on?"

You let out a sigh of mock despair, joining him at the counter and turning the knob until you hear a familiar click as the gas ignites, basking the kitchen in a blue glow. "If your 'skills' end with me getting food poisoning I'll never forgive you Kim Seokjin".

"I think I can handle a simple pasta dish," He retorts, but not before sending a pot from the utensil rack crashing to the ground with a clatter. "Maybe I spoke too soon." He picks up the appliance, holding it out to you sheepishly, a flush caressing his cheeks now.

You click your tongue but in no way maliciously, instinctively filling the pot with water and pulling open a few drawers in search of some other equipment. "Where do you keep the spoons?"

"Top drawer." You hear him call, settling himself into the askew stool you previously occupied, kicking his feet up onto the opposite stool and making you internally wince when the soles of his shoes settle on the white leather cushion. "Can I ask you something?"

Something in his voice changes, a seriousness that you aren't used to with him. In fact the only time you'd ever heard it was last week on the lake, when he admitted he felt like an outsider at Paradise.

You dump the pasta and lean against the counter to face him. "Sure."

"Do you think I'm an asshole?" He asks quietly.

You pause. "Sometimes." Eyes narrowed, you let out a sigh. "Why?"

"I'm sorry." Seokjin sounds small, and he wrings his hands together awkwardly. "For making you do all this for me, and then acting like a douche."

You push his feet off the stool and take a seat opposite him. Your mouth is dry, so you say nothing. He looks at you expectantly. Like he's hoping his apology will make up for the stinging hurt that still lingers in your chest every time you remember the look of shame in his eyes when he almost got caught talking to you at the gates. You flash him a sad smile, and he sighs when he realises it's not enough.

"God, I'm so fucking lame. What normal guy has to get a girl to pretend to be his fucking fiance?"

"What normal girl agrees to pretend? If you're lame then I'm just as bad." You chuckle, somewhat bitterly. "If you're so embarrassed by me, why don't you just tell your family? Then you won't have to worry someone will find out who I really am."

There's a sharpness to your words that makes Seokjin wince.

"It's not that I'm embarrassed of you! I'm...embarrassed of me."  Seokjin rushes. "I just can't tell them. It would break them if they knew we've been lying."

Oh. So all this time he wasn't afraid someone would find out your real identity...he was just worried about disappointing his family?

"I always knew I was going to marry some nice girl from upstate and take over Paradise one day," He continues. "But now it's actually happening and I'm realizing I'm not cut out for this."

His head falls into his palms, forehead creased. You can tell this has been weighing on his mind for a while, and part of you feels thrilled that he trusts you enough to confide in you.

"I want to be the man they want me to be but I don't know how much longer I can pretend."

You slide your hand over the counter and cover his. He looks up, surprised, when you give it a comforting squeeze.

"I think you're just scared." You whisper. "I know you Seokjin, and you'll be an incredible CEO."

He puffs out his chest. "Pfft, I'm not scared."

"You're scared you won't be as good of an owner as your dad." You say. "And you're scared that you won't love the girl who you marry like you're supposed to."

Seokjin falls quiet, like what you said hit a nerve. He frowns. "I know what it's like to love someone. And those other girls -- the ones my parent's tried to set me up with -- they were nice and all but... I didn't feel it with any of them."

"You can't force love." You offer him a sympathetic smile. "Sometimes it just pops up in the strangest of places. It just happens."

"You're right." He smiles back, and shakes his shoulders like a weight has been lifted. His eyes soften fondly. "Hey. How do you always seem to know exactly what to say?"

"One of my many talents,"You laugh as you instinctively start to dish up your meal. That's what working in a kitchen does to you. "Including making incredible pasta."

The smell of carbonara wafts through the kitchen, and he rubs his stomach gratefully.

"God I love you." Seokjin says breathily, threading his hands through his hair and looking at you in wonder.

"What?" You go slack, the metal spoon between your fingers hitting the ground with a tinny crash.

Seokjin blinks twice before rushing to cover up his mistake. "You know what I mean."

You do know. But a part of you wishes that you didn't know, that you could pretend that the words that spilled from Seokjin's lips were real and true and meant something.

Not that it matters anyway. You aren't in love. You are just pretending to be. So why does it feel like a ton of bricks smushed your heart when you realise this was probably the only time you would ever hear him say those words, even if he didn't mean them how you wished he would?

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth before it can start to wobble and bend to your knees to retrieve the spoon. Seokjin is already ahead of you, leaping out of his chair to grasp the metal at the exact same time.

A gasp passes your lips when his hand covers yours tightly, the contact accidental but enough to send tingles up your spine like it always does. Except this time, it seems he feels it too, because when you dare to look up he is staring at your almost interlocked hands in wonder.

"Is now a bad time to repay one of your favours?" His voice is hoarse.

"What—"

Seokjin's fingers hook beneath your chin, tilting your head towards him so that he can press his lips against yours in a tentative kiss, swallowing your words in transit.

The kiss is slow and languid, the way he slots his plump bottom lip between yours making you melt instantly. His cheeks are warm and soft in your hands as you cup them, the action feeling just as natural as the warmth blossoming in your chest when Seokjin moves his mouth in time with your own with an impossible tenderness.

He sighs into your mouth like he'd been waiting forever to do this, and you feel a similar satisfaction, finally able to curb the craving for him that has been aching inside you since your last encounter when he left you standing alone on the veranda.

Seokjin's fingers trace up your arms tentatively, hairs raising wherever they touch, before tangling them in the hair at the base of your neck and pulling you ever deeper into the kiss, not just with pure desire like you were used to but with a yearning to hold you closer. For the first time you let yourself succumb to your senses, protective guard over your heart shattering as you get lost in the scent of his woody cologne and the roughness of his simultaneously pillowy lips.

By the time he pulls back you are already breathless and he is too, lips parted slightly, breath tickling your nose.

"Sorry." The curve of his lips tells you he didn't mean it. He wanted to kiss you. You melt. "'S cause I missed you, that's all"

"C'mere." With a breathy laugh you pull him closer to you again by the collar, mouths crashing together in a tangle of teeth and tongue this time that makes you burn with a hunger to commit every caress of his lips to memory, blood running hot as he tugs your bottom lip between his teeth like he wants to devour you right then and there. "I want you."

His hands search your body making you shudder, swell of your chest pressed to his as he slips his burning hot palms beneath your thighs to hoist you onto the kitchen island, uncaring when the spice rack rattles precariously. His lips never leave yours, tongue sweeping into your mouth in a way that has you panting for more, suddenly desperate to feel his warmth against you without the damn barrier of your leggings between you.

"Wanna take you right here so bad." Seokjin breaks away, eyes glazed over and slipping from your swollen lips momentarily to take in your quivering body, slotting himself between your welcoming legs. "God, you drive me crazy."

His hair tickles your cheek when he lets his face fall into the crook of your neck as if accepting defeat, his self control hanging by a thread in the same way as yours.

"Then take me." It's hushed whisper but it makes Seokjin groan, his hands rubbing flat circles into the tops of your thighs but never getting quite close enough to the ache that pulses between your legs, as though he can't trust himself.

"Don't want you to do something you'll regret." Seokjin sounds pained as he nips at your neck, lips sucking marks into the flesh obscenely while his tongue soothes the burn, your eyes squeezing shut at the sensation.

"I could never regret you." You stammer between quiet whimpers when his teeth attack the sensitive spot behind your ear and in that moment you believe every word. "I promise."

Seokjin leaves one last wet kiss to your jaw. "Open your eyes. Look at me." His hands tremble when they take your face between them and hold your already damp forehead against his. You obey, biting your lip when his own lustful eyes stare into yours with a gentleness. "Promise. You want this — me?"

Your heart throbs. "I promise."

"Then how could I refuse?" With a peck to your lips Seokjin hoists  you over his shoulder like you are weightless, blood rushing to your head as you come face to face with his butt.

"Let me down!" You laughed as he carries you through the apartment, pounding your fists against his back playfully. He only tightens his grip, landing a sharp smack to your ass that has you quieting down quickly. "Ow!"

"Don't pretend you didn't like it." His voice is muffled as he lets you down but you can still hear his smirk before he even comes into view. Your back lands on top of a plush mattress, silken sheets a welcome cold against your skin which still burns from Seokjin's touch. You manage to glance around the room briefly, taking in the elegant matching silk drapes and the luxe gold trimmed furniture which makes it feel like a hotel room you probably could not afford.

But then Seokjin is hovering over you again and the way his eyes darken as they rake across your body captures all your attention.

"I wouldn't mind if you did it again." You hum coyly, enjoying the way his pupils dilate as he swallows a groan. Seokjin grips your ankles and lands another slap to the flesh of your ass that has you panting and choking on your own smirk.

"Such a slut, hm?" Your knees fall apart instinctively as he leans over your body, leaving a few lingering kisses across the expanse of your chest that peeks out of the top of your tank top, all while your fingers find the hem of his gym t-shirt. "God I love your ass."

"I'll fuck it myself if you don't hurry up." The way your hips buck up give away your impatience, never quite meeting the painfully visible tent in his crotch and gaining the friction you so desperately search for. Your panties are soaked through and clinging uncomfortably to your dripping folds by now, the heat between your legs pulsing unbearably.

Seokjin chokes at your threat, eyes rolling back as he pictures the image you painted. "F-fuck, I'd love to but maybe another time." Your lithe fingers manage to get his shirt over his shoulders, throwing the garment somewhere behind him and sucking in a gasp when you take in Seokjin's naked torso beneath the warm glow of his bedside lamp, toned and slightly damp with anticipation. "Gotta take care of this cunt first, hm?"

His palm cups your mound obscenely through your leggings and you whine at the first contact you'd received all night, eager to have him touch you without the barrier of your clothing. "P-please." The way you twist your hips needily, trying to grind your throbbing clit against the heel of his palm makes him laugh lightly.

"Sit back, get comfy." He helps you slide up the bed, arranging a selection of tasseled throw cushions behind your head until he's satisfied you are adequately supported, kneeling between your legs to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and press a prolonged peck to your parted lips. "Want this to be good for you."

"It's always good for me." You assure, fingers trailing fleetingly down his chest and feeling him tense above you at the ticklish contact. Seokjin makes quick work of your top, leaving you quickly in just your bra which you graciously save him the trouble of undoing by snapping the clasp open yourself.

The way he gazes in awe at your bare chest makes you self conscious, hands coming to cover the flush that caresses your face until he rolls one of your hardened nipples and lets out a sigh in unison with your own when your hands fall away, unable to focus on anything other than the tingle of Seokjin's touch and your own shallow pants.

"You're so pretty." His words make your chest blossom with warmth and you arch into his touch, air cold against your hard buds until Seokjin takes one of them into the heat of his mouth and reduces you to a gasping mess beneath him.

As soon as he comes up for air you manage to wriggle your hands between your flush bodies, latching on to the waistband of his gym shorts and sliding them down his thighs along with his boxers as soon as you catch his nod of confirmation.

His cock springs free, hard and already leaking against his stomach. Seokjin hisses at the cold air against his length. You wrap your hand around his girth, lidded gaze watching the way his face twists with a pleasurable agony with each flick of your wrist. He's hot and heavy in your palm, impossibly hard and your entrance clenches when his cock pulses against your palm, forcing him to swallow a moan and stop his hips from thrusting into your hand. You are suddenly hyper aware of how empty you are, another bout of lust pooling in your stomach as you anticipate how good he would fill you up, length enough to stretch you out perfectly.

When your palm twists around the angry reddened tip he just about looses his mind, falling forward to grip your shoulder with a bruising grip, uncaring when a few choked groans spill into your ear. You take pride in the way he falls apart so easily until his large palm covers yours and halts your ministrations all together.

"Stop, fuck—" He squeezes his eyes shut, letting out a hiss as he tries to regain his control, length twitching and drooling against your bare stomach. "Nearly came, shit." Seokjin's chest heaves with laboured breaths, cheeks flushed as he grips the base of his length firmly.

"I'm that good huh?" The teasing tone makes his eyes snap up, the scarlet tint to his cheeks deepening.

"No — I mean yes — but mostly I've been imagining this for a while." He seems slightly sheepish and you find it cute, feeling a little pang in your heart when his nose scrunches with shyness at his confession. "Got too worked up too fast."

"Guess you don't want me to suck you off for a bit, then?" You ask almost hopefully, your heat growing ever wetter at the thought of his girth fucking your throat mercilessly.

"There's plenty of time for that, princess." The glint in his eye is the same as the one he had that day in the locker rooms, except this time you trust his words knowing that nothing could stop you coming back for more.

"Guess I'll have to save my skills for another day, then." Seokjin chuckles at the pout that graces your lips, swatting your hand away before it could stroke his length again. "Unless..."

"Brat." The shake of his head is affectionate.

"Don't pretend you don't like it." You echoe his earlier words and he rolls his eyes to your amusement.

"Touché."

He holds your gaze for a little too long, the way his eyes soften at the edges and his lips part cutely too intimate for you to deal with in the moment so you focus on the neglected ache between your legs instead.

You interrupt the moment before you let a piece of your heart flutter straight into his hands. "Hurry up and get inside me, idiot!"

"Okay, okay jeez!" Seokjin raises his hands defensively before he shuffles down the bed, eye level with your crotch.

You can't help the way you arch off the bed as he peels away your leggings, whining shamelessly when your swollen folds finally hit the air.

Soon enough you feel Seokjin's hot breath hovering over your slit, making your clit pulse even more desperately if that were possible. Before he could devour your heat like you wanted him to, you are reminded of his own self control. "'S not fair, is it?" You slur, head spinning with lust as he spreads your lips with his fingers, taking you in completely.

"Not going to eat you out this time, don't worry," The sight of him looking up at you with pleading eyes from between your legs, lips inches away from your clit, is enough to have the coil in your stomach tightening, sure you could cum just from the visual alone. "Just a taste?"

You nod, too breathless to speak, and he runs a flat stripe up your dripping slit, the contact enough to make your legs shake and your head fall back against the cushions. He places a single kiss to your clit which makes you quiver before he climbs back up so you are eye level. "Can't get enough of your pussy," Your breath mingles, his lips glistening with your arousal just inches from yours. "Could taste you forever."

"You can." You whisper.

His tongue traces your bottom lip languidly. You can taste yourself just barely on his lips. "I don't deserve you."

Seokjin supports himself on his forearms, hovering over your body and taking his cock in his palm to line it up with your entrance.

"Ready?" He scans your face for any concerns, any suggestion that you are having second thoughts. Even your small smile and the shameless twists of your hips as you tried to impale yourself on his cock wasn't enough to appease him, apparently. "Promise?"

The tenderness in his voice makes you lose your breath in a mixture of shock and warmth. This has to be a dream. "Promise."

Seokjin's lidded eyes light up and he finds your hand where it tugs on the sheets beside your bodies and carefully interlinks your fingers. The callouses on his fingers, the grooves of his palm and how it slots perfectly into yours is starting to feel familiar. You don't have time to dwell on whether the action was supposed to feel as romantic as it did before he's pushing the tip of his cock against your entrance which clenches with every inch until he bottoms out with a guttural groan of his own.

The slide is slow and languorous, allowing you to feel every ridge of his cock drag against your walls, the stretch burning a little as you tried to accommodate his girth.

"So fucking wet for me, huh?" It's true; you can feel your arousal dripping down your ass, his hips meeting yours with an audible squelch that was testament of his affect on you. You feel his cock twitch inside you, his nose scrunching as he resists slamming into you straight away to allow you to adjust. Instead he focuses on rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs into your hips, taking in your bare form with a fascination. "So fucking pretty underneath me like this."

"All for you." You manage to stutter between hard pants as he snaps his hips back until just the head of his cock remains at your entrance and you whine with the impossible emptiness. "I'm all yours."

"Promise me." It comes out as a command but it's tainted with a softness that makes your cheeks burn with more than just lust.

"I promise. I'm all yours."

That's all it takes to have him slamming back into you, hips meeting yours repeatedly with a loud slap which is almost drowned out by the soft moans that spill from his lips into the crook of your neck. He's more vocal than you were expecting and it drives you crazy.

"Fuck, I'm close." His breath hitches at your words, tongue snaking out to wet his lips as he shudders closer to his high. With a pained expression he pauses mid thrust, head barely inside you as he searches your face for answers with desperate eyes. "Where can I—"

"Inside me." You buck your hips, whimpering when he slides back into you to the hilt as if he can't help it. "Wanna feel you fill me up."

"Shit, okay." He stutters as your fingers move the bangs stuck to his sweaty forehead, his neck and shoulders glistening slightly in the deep glow of the room. "God, you're so tight."

By now you are clenching around him wildly, the heat between your legs getting hotter with every drag of his cock against your velvety walls. With his next thrust he hits your sweet spot deliciously, the mewl that leaves you alerting him of the fact and he watches with a dark amusement as your eyes roll back and you lose yourself to the feeling.

"Mmf — g-gonna cum." Seokjin's thumb rubs circles into your throbbing clit in time with his thrusts and the pressure is enough to have you falling over the edge, vision fading to black as Seokjin fucks you through your high.

"That's it, cum for me baby," He coaxes, thrusts turning sloppy as you feel him release inside you, the feeling of him coating your now sensitive walls almost too much. "S-shit."

You don't realise your eyes are squeezed shut until Seokjin's palm cups your chin, his face a picture of pure bliss when your lashes finally flutter open. There's barely any distance between your noses, his breath lightly tickling your parted lips and you're sure he can hear your heart thumping against your rib cage, loud in your ears as he closes the distance between you in a lazy kiss that feels indescribably intimate with him softening inside you.

"I don't deserve you." He says again, voice croaky this time. "You could do better than me."

"Shut up," His cheek presses to your chest, warm against your clammy skin. "Don't be silly."

"There's something I need to tell you..." He begins, cut off when you sit upright abruptly, eyes wide. "It's nothing bad. Well, it might be depends on how you respond. It's just that day on the lake, when I saw how Taehyung looked at you, and when I thought I lost you, it made me realise that I'm—"

"No, not that." You begin feeling around for your underwear. "I think the pasta boiled over!"

"Oh shit!" He joins your search for clothes, rolling onto his back beside you, though you don't miss the frown that appeared on his face. "Guess I can wait a little longer."

[juniper-tree]

wip whenever

thanks for the tag @parera-zuul-jar :) I am noodling with new stuff. Fallout 4, my main man Hancock. Channeling my inner Ellroy. Musing on the Stones (which I think Mr. Ellroy would hate, sorry sir). Making my own Marianne. Anyway! Here is some. If you read this consider yourself tagged, friends. 

He might have spied her crying, but she tried to hide. She'd hang her hair in her face and cough, wipe her eyes quick. Shit happened, before the bombs, was all she ever said.

Why she'd be wasting tears over things she'd never seen, that only the old ghouls knew about and even they didn't care, he never asked. Figured it was how she made it through the night, but fuck's sake, there were five or six better options at hand, or mouth, or inside that tight blue suit.

At first it was fun to think about: how sweet and clean that vault dweller skin would taste, how she'd fit on top of him and grind him into the ground, how her eyes would roll back, her lip would sweat, her hips would lock and shudder.

Thinking that way got old real fast, like when he woke up cold and hard and she was already cooking coffee and a can of beans, smiling good morning at him. Like when he'd groan feral-style at the thought of another bright sunny day with nothing to do but shoot raiders, shoot overdrive, and stare at her from five feet back. Just out of reach. He wouldn't take nothing without asking, but everybody asked him these days.

That's when he started to hear her. Squeaky little rasp. Turn my face to the light and walk on. Have to, or else.

He'd say did you say something. She'd say no. Well, somebody did.  

Norah liked to be out during the day, in the sunlight. She didn't see so good at night and he didn't see so good ever. Sun cooked the world too hot and loud. Loud was fine, sometimes—when the Third Rail screamed with jazz and drunks and it sounded the way psycho on a liter of vodka felt.

But outside the Rail, in town or out here in nowhere, night was thick velvet. Night only let through one short noise at a time to ring off the buildings. A gunshot, or a laugh.

Norah was a sunny kind of gal and he told her so one morning the sky was so bright it hurt. She laughed, 'cause she got the message it wasn't exactly complimentary. But it's never sunny in Boston, not like it used to be she said, and Christ if it was any worse out here he'd have gone nocturnal. 

Might sound crazy, but when she asked him why he liked night better, what he thought—that the mess and luck of the Commonwealth was hiding there in the black for the fearless to take it, that the dark muzzled everything dull and real life got to shine in the colored neon buzz— Well, it all of a sudden seemed like he couldn't find the words. 

Instead he said Sunshine's boring. Always the same. 

[axiomsofice]

Leafs: New Additions

Welcome back to another year in Leaf Land, as always at a most critical nexus. There’s a lot of negativity, and as usual some of its well earned, and some of its too far. Within all that, it’s important to acknowledge the progress that this group has made, free from the fervid luster of hope offered early in the Matthews era.

The novelty of the Canadian Division, and the 4 separate leagues that took part in the 2021 season did cap the amount this team could change our minds, but having a strong and consistent regular season and finishing top 10 in goals against, was a huge development, and continuing those results to a full 82 game schedule is still an important step. In general, this fan base took the first sign of positivity and grew championship expectations, to the point where the past 2 or 3 seasons many have been saying “there’s nothing to prove until the playoffs”, and even to this point that simply isn’t true. 

Mrazek

After spending a large part of the past 2 seasons desperately searching for depth and stability in the sport’s most important position, acquiring Mrazek is certainly the most important move of the offseason. He’s probably in a cluster of mid tier starters, sometimes called a tandem starter or 1B, similar to Frederick Andersen, the fact that he’s younger and cheaper than Andersen is also a plus. He’s coming off some strong seasons behind a very good Carolina team, meaning he’s been a focal point for a successful team already, although he was not the starter in each of the Hurricanes’ past 2 postseason runs. He’s started 40 games in a season twice, meaning he’ll get at most 120 games in over the course of his 3 year deal. He’s had up and down seasons, but has shown flashes of strong play. He has a flare for the dramatic, some style to his play, and entering his age 29 season should be able to deliver a strong segment of his career. The best case scenario, or perhaps a reasonable comp would be similar to what Halak has been able to bring in his 30’s, which is starter level of play over 35-45 games a season, which does fit well with the expectations on Jack Campbell to play in 40-50 games. Ultimately the hope is that Jack can really run with the starter role, but Mrazek will be keeping the level of play in net high.

Menell

Menell takes the mantle as this year’s KHL import on the blueline, a staple that’s seen Zaitsev, Ozighanov, and Lethonen pass through to varying degrees of success in recent years. Menell, unlike the others, offers a stronger resume on the smaller ice surface, putting in several strong AHL seasons with the Iowa Wild before his most recent all-star season in Russia. Similar to Lethonen, he is a strong offensive player and could figure into a role on the power play. At this point he’s done everything he can besides earn some playing time at the top level, and provides an interesting depth option to the blueline.

Dahlstrom

It can be difficult for low-scoring defensive players to stand out, and that might be the case for Dahlstrom. The 26 year old Swede has 2 years experience in the SHL, followed by 4 increasingly strong stints in the AHL, with a 35+ game run on the porous 18-19 Chicago team and 10+ games with the Jets the following year. He did eventually earn an Assistant Captain role on Chicago’s AHL affiliate. Despite all that, he’s only played 35 games or so the last 2 years, as he probably got squeezed as a fringe player throughout the first covid season. He certainly is qualified to fill in a depth role, although surely in a different style than Menell. Together they represent good reinforcements with potential upside should injuries occur. He’s big, skates well enough for his size, has some passing abilities.

Kase

Another player who hasn’t played all that much recently, Kase has fought a lot of tough injuries over the recent years. Kase is still only 25, but it was all the way back in 17-18 that he scored 29 goals as a member of the Ducks. He has posted really strong possession and shot metrics throughout his career, and plays a very rambunctious and tenacious style. Hopefully he can stay healthy and at least have a chance to continue his strong play, but with concussions we can only know so much. A one year deal means there isn’t any long term risk, and best case Kase provides some of the “all terrain” capabilities that Barclay Goodrow brought to the Lighting the past couple seasons.

Ritchie

Ritchie is a big power forward, who can manage to shovel in 10-20 goals a year. Although his career high comes from his time in Anaheim, it’s reasonable to expect he could have a career season over the 2 years of his contract. He does bring certain qualities lacking from the forward group at this point and could fit well somewhere in the top 6. Even with Hyman in the lineup, when Simmonds missed time last year there was a noticeable lack of net front presence, which Ritchie should help satisfy. Personally, I’ve spent a lot of time being thankful the Leafs took Nylander instead of Ritchie in their draft year, but Ritchie is still young at 25 and is a quality add to the forward group. He might take an excessive amount of penalties, but that could also “even out” and earn the Leafs a few more calls as well.

Kampf

As we get to our 6th addition, a pattern is clear, young free agents (mid to late 20s) who should have more in the tank than the older additions of last season, and perhaps with their best seasons in front of them. That is certainly the case with Kampf, who has already proven to be an effective bottom 6 defensive centre in the NHL. He is in crazy good shape and is good at faceoffs. In his introductory presser Dubas mentioned he’s been on the Leafs’ radar for a while, and that they saw more offensive upside to his game. He certainly has a similar style of play to Danault, helping break cycles in the defensive zone and supporting transition well up ice, and could really help unlock stronger play from the 3rd or 4th line. In particular I think he would pair really well with a strong defensive winger who can carry the puck through the neutral zone, Ilya Mikheyev, and/or David Kase.

Bunting

Bunting “came out of nowhere” to score 10 goals in 20 games for the Coyotes last season, and we should not be expecting 40 goals next year. That being said, signing him to 2 years at only $950,000 is a great deal. For the brief time Jared McCaan was a Leafs I was excited about adding a complimentary top 6 player who could shoot well to pair with Marner and Matthews. Bunting definitely has the chance to live up to that. It’s obviously not at Matthews’ level, but Bunting can score from the high to mid slot. He’s speedy enough to pressure through the neutral zone and off the rush, and has some skill in making moves to beat defenders and goaltenders. He isn’t afraid to get to the dirty areas and had a few goals tipping in shots from the point. He is also feisty, gets under opponents’ skin and hustles like his job depends on it. He said in his introductory interview that he had spent long enough in the minors that when he finally got called up last season he played with nothing to lose, and compared his style of play to Marchand. Although that is a lot of lofty rhetoric, it’s easy to see how this could be a huge win for the franchise. If he proves to be 4th line contributor it’s a good deal, but there’s good reason to be excited beyond that. It might be a bit off topic to say I think that it’s important that Matthews and Marner’s liberate has a good enough shot to capitalize on the opportunity they will have as well as the tenacity Hyman brought so effectively, and Bunting has the tools to do it.

Gabriel

Gabriel is a fighter with social media presence, and especially for a pro hockey player, tries to be inclusive. I could see him being called up and deployed circumstantially. Although Simmonds and Ritchie have both thrown their share of fists, having a DH of sorts might be useful? Regardless, as a cultural focal point of both hockey and Canada the Leafs have the opportunity and responsibility to do their part in changing our culture for the better, and considering the league minimum cap hit this signing represents checks of few different boxes in terms of “intangibles”.

Semyonov

Semyonov has played parts of 5 seasons in the KHL, including a couple deep postseason runs as a middle 6 forward and eventually became an Assistant Captain. At 26, there doesn’t seem like a great chance he’ll be a factor at the NHL level, although he should get a fair shake at training camp. It is more likely he fits in as a veteran presence on a Marlies team that will feature a lot of Russian players, from Amirov, SDA, Gogolev and Abramov. The Marlies will look to be a lot stronger this year and those 5 forwards will look to be a big part of that. He gets to the net and most of his goals will be from rebounds and scrambles in front. He has some good puck skills, which will be shown off with some fancy passes. He’s big and fast enough to have some effect on the forecheck.

Way Too Early Lines

Bunting Matthews Marner Kerfoot Tavares Nylander Mikheyev Kampf Kase Ritchie Spezza Simmonds Engvall Brooks

Reilly Brodie Muzzin Holl Sandin Dermott Liljegren

Campbell Mrazek Hutchinson

Notes on fringe players

Mikheyev has been taking some heat recently. He clearly had trouble converting chances into goals and his wrist injury could have been a huge factor in losing confidence. He is good defensively, and is a strong enough skater that he’s able to transition through the neutral zone really well. Despite being a powerful skater he does seem to look a bit like an old man at times. It’s easy to see how he could be similar to former Leaf Michael Grabner, in that whether he is converting on breakaways or not could fluctuate his goal totals enough to drastically change opinions year to year (both are strong on the pk as well).

Engvall shows flashes of brilliance in a lot of ways. Speed and size to defend well, soft hands and really good passes, scoring touch, but somehow looks like he has trouble putting it all together. Dubas and Keefe have had him for a long time, and with one year left on his deal it might be his best chance at becoming an NHL regular.

Brooks will have to replicate his strong play from last year. He looked really strong alongside Spezza, where he was able to use his hockey sense and passing skills to his advantage. It is not a given that he’ll be able to, but he’s continued to show signs of growth so maybe he can continue to surpass expectations with more opportunities.

Liljegren has all the physical tools to be a good NHL defender, skates and passes well enough to beat forechecks, physical enough to play the body, but he’s looked a bit lost at times. I think with strength and experience we’ll see him settle into a regular role, and it’s not an indictment that he hasn’t got there yet, even if he spends most of his time in the AHL again this year. It might be a bit much to rely on a Sandin-Liljegren pairing when everyone is available, but I would love to see him get a chance alongside Muzzin at some point.

[miss-dr-reid]

This is calm, and it's, Doctor #6

A little something different for this one.

~Spencer's POV~

After I ordered the food to be delivered, I turned around to see y/n had disappeared from her perch on the stool. I walked around the bench, looked down the hall and saw no movement. I walked over to the lounge and found her resting, looking so peaceful.

Her face looked soft, lips parted slightly. Her arms cuddled the cushion tocher chest while her legs were called up, fitting into the lounge. Not wanting to disturb her peaceful slumber, I grabbed a book and sat at the table behind her. I sat on the side of the table that allowed me to see her face whenever I looked up from my book.

She was so beautiful in so many ways. In the week I've known her, I've noticed myself wanting to be around her as much as possible. She was so smart, but humble enough that she never really corrected anyone if that hadn't called her 'Doctor', so much so, that maybe people didn't even realise.

I looked up from my book as she stirred, taking in a deep breath, smacking her lips to get her quietly as she exhaled. My heart skipped a beat as I watched. After a while of reading, there was a knock on the door, 'Dinner', I thought as I walked over and opened the door.

Happy to see my dinner in the hands of the delivery man, I handed him a $10 tip and he went on his way. I closed the door and popped the bag onto the bench. I unpacked by he bag on the bench, ensuring everything was there b

"Vegetable omelette, fried rice, beef and black bean..." Quietly listing them to myself as I set them in the bench, followed by the complimentary prawn chips. I headed over for the lounge.

"Y/N," I kneeled next to her on the ground, "y/n, dinner is here." I tapped her hand which was wrapped around her wrist, holding her arms together.

One eye popped open slightly, looking at me.

"Dinner?" Her voice, a whisper.

"Yeah!" I confirmed. She grabbed my hand, surprising me. I hadn't realised that I had rested mine on hers after waking her. She used me to help herself up, throwing her feet to the ground, yawning and stretching.

I got up and walked back to the kitchen, grabbing plates and cutlery for each of us. Y/N took the stool where she had been before laying down. I took the one next to her, handing over the plate and cutlery I got for her. Her face screwed up as I handed over the cutlery.

"What?" I asked, thinking something was wrong. She picked up the fork I had given her,

"A fork? Do you have chopsticks?" She asking, faking offence.

I grabbed out the complimentary ones from the bottom of the bag and gave them to her. Satisfied with her utensils, she proceeded to pour some of each dish onto her plate.

"You gonna eat those?" She gestured toward the prawn chips. I shook my head, sliding them her way. She happily accepted them, opening the bag and diving right in. I watched as she pulled out chips, inspecting each one. After watching for a while, I reduced that she was looking for 'bowl-shaped' chips so she could pile as much food onto it as possible.

I let out a little laugh as I realised. I was so intrigued in how she chose to are, I couldn't help but watch. As much as it usually revolted me, I was too invested to stop. After picking the perfect chip, scooping as much food onto it as possible, she'd try eat it all in one go.

"You right?" She asked, snapping me out of my trance I hadn't realised I was in. Her eyes watched my face as I nodded, not knowing what to say.

"I- I've never seen anyone eat like that." was all I could manage.

"I'm not just anyone, Spence." She joked, wiggling her eyebrows and elbowing my arm. I faked an injury, grabbing my arm with an "Ow!". Even though 'Spence' was a nickname used my most people I know, the way Y/N says it makes it sound so good. And, when she calls me 'Doctor', something happens inside me, I can't even describe it. The thought of her saying my name makes my heart race.

We finished eating dinner and I wanted the few dishes we had messed, Y/N watched me Street I had declined her offer of help. I noticed her watching my hands, and looking up to my face every now and then, her own face resting on her propped up hand.

Once I was done, I dried my hands on the tea towel that was in the bench. I took the couple of steps over to the bench opposite Y/N. Leaning on my elbows, I looked over her face, her eyes slightly droopy, but not necessarily tired, I couldn't put my finger on it.

"Spence..." she said soft and slightly hoarse, "can we listen to some music?"

"Oh yeah. I have a Google Home, so, to for it." I told her.

"Hey Google," she started, "Play 'Moo' by Doja Cat." She called, a smirk filling her lips. I was confused, so I focused on Google.

"Bitch, I'm a cow." It started. I was taken aback and Y/N laughed, quickly changing the song.

"Hey Google, play 'Crazy Little thing called Love." She hopped off the stool and walked to the empty area between the bench and table.

The song started and she started dancing. Her voice filled the room, full of passion. I was enjoying watching her perform until she gestured for me to join her. I shook my head, stiffening at the idea of dancing.

"Please Spence, it'll loosen you up, and we all need to chill out." She almost begged, fluttering her eyelashes, while holding her arms out toward me, a grabbing motion played on her fingers.

Seeing this side of Y/N was strange, but comforting. The entire time I had known her, she was always serious. Happy to have a laugh, but never too much fun. I unwillingly obliged only because I wanted to see her smile again, and she did as I stated toward her.

She didn't get my hands like o thought she would, instead she swayed her body in time with the music causing me to follow along. I did enjoy this more than I was expecting to. I think, because of her. She was singing, dancing and almost performing a whole concert.

She stopped in her tracks, smirking at me as she called for Google to play another song.

#Where have all the good men gone

and where are all the gods?

Where's the streetwise Hercules

To fight the rising odds#

She sang along, hitting every note, I was in awe. After the song, she decided one okay change was necessary. The music changed to the artist 'Bruno Mars', her body language changed. She went from partying and jumping around, to smooth fluid, alluring moves.

"Got anything to drink?" Her voice, breaking my thoughts one more time, "Anything adult?" She emphasised.

Thinking for a second, I did have some whiskey that I was gifted and never drank. I grabbed the bottle bedroom the top shelf of an overhead cupboard. I collected a glass from another, scooped some ice from the freezer, and poured out a drink into the glass, sliding the glass over to her across the bench.

She took it, sniffed it, swirled it and took a sip. She swallowed it all up after getting a taste, tapping the glass on the counter and with her best western accent,

"Another, barkeep!" She mustered out. I poured another, and she downed it. She got up to resume her dancing. I put the lid on the bottle and left it on the bench.

I walked around and sat on the stool, enjoying watching her sing and dance, relaxing as the drinks styles in her system. She danced for a while, eventually joining me as I wandered over to the lounge. She brought the whiskey, her glass and one for me. Not being a big drinker, I declined. She didn't press but left the glass on the coffee table in front of us.

"I guess you're staying tonight?" I asked, watching her pour another drink.

"Oh, shit!" She stopped, looking up at me, "Spence, I'm sorry! I can go- I- I don't want to make you uncomfortable if you don't want me here!" Worry in her voice as she realised there had been no official invitation for her to stay. She didn't need one. I was over the moon to have company that wasn't my brain and numerous books.

"No, you're not going anywhere. I have some spare clothes that I'm sure will fit you if you feel like changing. Please, Y/N, you are more than welcome to stay tonight and whenever else you'd like to." I assured her, placing my hand on my shoulder, only removing it once she relaxed.

She let out a breathy sigh and laid back against the lounge, exhaling deeply. Her hands grabbed each side of her face and pulled down slowly until they teachers her chin.

"I would love to get changed." She whispered and rolled her head to look at me.

I tilted my head so it was same angle as hers,

"Come on." I reached for her hand, she smiled at me as she took it in hers. She trailed closely behind as I led her to my room. She sat down on the edge of the bed, her legs hanging off, and she kicked than back and forth.

I opened my wardrobe and rifled through the racks, finding an old plain grey tee. I took it out and laid it next to her on the bed. Y/N's hand ran over it as I dove back in to my wardrobe. I found a pair of darker grey tracks and laid them on top of the shirt.

"There's a spare towel hanging in the bathroom if you'd like to shower. I'll be in the loungeroom, reading most likely." I spoke, putting my hands in my pockets, shifting from heel to toe not wanting to leave.

Her looked me up and down, with raised eyebrows. When she got back to my face, she glanced between me and the door.

"Oh, right!" I spun on my heels and left, closing the door behind me. "Idiot. You work together. What do you even want from her!?" I asked myself once I was out of earshot.

Entering the loungeroom, music was still playing. A new song came on and I decided to listen to it, trying to get an idea of the music Y/N likes.

#I found a love, for me# I clicked on the lyrics tab of the Google Home screen.

#Darling, just dive right in

Follow my lead# I hadn't realised that I had started swaying to the song.

Arms wrapped around my waist, a face rested on my back. I stiffened at the sudden touch. I turned, Y/N only loosened her grip enough for me to spin around. She looked up at me, smiling contently. Her arms still wrapped around my waist, she rested her face on my chest. She started swaying, causing us both to sway. I rested my arms over her shoulders, one hand on top of her head, under my chin.

As we were swaying, she shifted her arms from my waist to my shoulders, my arms from her shoulders to her waist. Her fingers made their way up my neck and to the back of my head, playing with the curls that day there. My hands responded, rubbing her back slowly up and down.

I wanted to hold her there forever. To kiss the top of her head. To pick her up and just hold her.

But, we work together. We're friends, mates. It can't happen. She doesn't even like me like that.

His can't happen.... Right?

[pjstafford]

The Bad Boy/Good Guy public personality dynamic of David Duchovny

Written as a birthday gift (with her blog prompt) for Charmion @grungekid84

Dedication: Charmion and I are of different generations; separated in age by over twenty years. I was the age she is now, about, when the X-files was new and she watched it first as a child. Yet today we share similarities in thoughts related to our celebrity crush. To both Charmion and David Duchovny I say, I hope this blog does the love the justice it deserves.

Why are women 20 to 70 years of age fan girls of the 59 year old David Duchovny? Not simply fans! Fans might watch a movie because an actor is in it. They might rewatch a series a half dozen times. Fan girls like Charmion have an Xfile room and paint pictures. Fan girls like myself write blogs, fan fic and team up with fan girls like Cathy Glinski to present at academic conferences. Why do women who have no other celebrity crushes have this need to celebrate this one celebrity in these ways? It seems significant to me the age range of women who are fan girls. I have stood in an audience surrounded by women barely old enough to meet the 21 age limit who knew every word to each of his songs. I heard one such woman say that this is an experience she would tell her grandchildren about. I, also, know women closer to 70 who have traveled to a meet and greet or comic con because they wanted the opportunity to thank this celebrity for the years of joy. Just today as I start to write this a woman I do not know tweeted @hearteyes4david an open letter to the world with a life wish to meet and thank this man. There are so many of us who just want to say thank you. And I won’t say none of us are not, but most of us are not crazy. We are lobbyists, store managers, attorneys, emergency room nurses, church secretaries of different ages and nationalities, many happily married, most normal women ( and some men). So many of us eager, compelled almost, to meet a single specific man and say thank you.

Some of it, people will say, is lust. Yes, it’s possible that if he was a less attractive man we would wish to thank him in person less. Still, can you truly look at the picture at the end of this blog and say his looks are so much more Adonis like than any other man? To say it’s purely a physical lust for a handsome man is dismissive of the intelligent, thoughtful women so moved to want to thank him.

His talent? “Sweet baby Jesus” he gave us Mulder and if that wasn’t enough, Moody. Whether he is playing a man who has lost his wife in Return to me, a drugged out doctor in Playing God, or a Russian operative determine to see the US nuked in Phantomn he makes every character seem so real that he gets a reputation for only playing himself. He is so good of an actor playing such diverse roles that folks can’t believe is truly acting. Still, I think most of us would just be fans and not fan girls if good looks and talent was all he had going for him

He is multi-talented and many love the rock star with romantic, heart breaking lyrics. For me, as I have often said, he is my favorite living novelist with three novels published and a fourth to come out soon. He writes intelligent, funny, heart breaking novels with an unique style and characters that again seem real (even the talking animals). In a recent interview he said something to the effect that his kids could read these novels and know who he was a man. I think that’s why I love his writing so much is because lyrics or prose they are authentic expressions of an artist’s personality; which brings me to Charmion prompt...the personality of David Duchovny.

I have met the man briefly a handful of times. I like the man I have met, but I can’t pretend to know more anymore than his public persona. I know how he comes across in interviews, what others who know him say about him, and all I can possibly gleam from his public art...from the things he has acted in and from his written art- the XFiles the Unnatural, the movie “House of D”, the novels, the lyrics, the distorted selfies in the mirrors reflections he tweeted when he used to tweet. This is how I know what I know about the man...and the fact that the few times I met him he was soft spoken, polite, humble and kind; taking time to answer my questions intelligently, joke a little and write kind words.

I know he is flawed. It is impossible to be a fan and not know about some of the faults which have been well publicized. As he himself says in my favorite of his songs, “I got skeletons in my closet which time ain’t forgot...”. They will never be forgotten. They will be included 20 or 30 years from now in his obituary. His flawed character is a fact, it has been aired, it is part of who he is.

I have written that what I love best about his writing is the combination of darkness and despair with the lightness of the human spirit and resiliency (mmm...the ability to believe?) rising out of darkness. He writes about the most depressing subjects on earth realistically and the fairy tale quality which rises to fill our hearts, to make us laugh and cry, is as real. It is either or both n amazing technique and/ or a result of a world view. I choose to believe it is the latter.

David Duchovny is no saint, but God Damn, he seems like a remarkably good guy with enough of a bad/boy mischievous side to make his personality as sexy as fucking itself. See how I just got a little different in my language there. David puts fucking in a book title, god damn in a song, gets bleeped on air record breaking number of times. God damn, fuck you if you think this is a man who is afraid to swear. He is not really Fox Freaking Mulder but he is David Fucking Duchovny

He is a good guy. He is intelligent. His ability to reference the high brow literary comes across in all his works. His second album title is from a Shakespeare quote. Walt Whitman shows up throughout his novels (and his dog’s tweets). He is well read, it quite well known. If you don’t get that reference, he would, as a Dylan fan and a fan of many other musical artists. He is also happy to talk about and reference sporting heros.

He is a bad boy. Oh, but the lowbrow humor! Early interviews have fart jokes, bathroom humor. He has a knack for intermixing the profane and profound. His novel, Miss Subways, has the elementary teacher leaving the classroom in tears when an assignment (write a letter to a Shakespeare minor character) results in an innocent boy reading “My dearest Fellatio...”.

He is a good guy. He is a romantic. He gave the XFiles fans the shippy Mulder and Scully baseball scene. He believes in his heart that Californication was at heart a love story. He writes lyrics for his ex wife who loves the rain saying “ It will always be raining in this song.” In his novel are real people having real sex type of scenes...no great erotica with flowing hair and heaving bosoms for this man, but discussion of lights on or off or an older couple off screen and an adult son hearing and embarrassed.

He is a bad boy. The man has no fear of nudity. . In his first movie he was filmed completely naked. In the commentary to the rapture he admits that he told the director he thought the character slept in the nude. (Hence the balls shot). It was his idea to wear the red speedo. He improvised the moonshot in evolution.

He is a good guy. He believes in causes. He volunteers and donates to protect the planet, for animal rights, for music education and for planned parenthood. His was the only story in over 200 XFiles episodes that truly dealt with racial injustice and segregation.

He is a good guy. In House of D the thirteen year old boy’s best friend is a forty year old janitor with special needs. He is a bad boy. That boy and janitor told each other a lot of pee jokes.

I can go on and on and on about the bad boy/good guy public personna of David Duchovny, but I am going to close with a subject that might tempt fate and bring forth the haters. I want to end with thinking about David and women.

In Red Shoes diaries David was in the forefront of the soft porn explosion. In an interview this year Brigitte Bako describes her experience in filming the movie as the “worst experience of my life”; but has nothing but complimentary things to say about David, how sweet and nice he was. They became close friends and she later appeared in an episode of Californication.

In Californication, David was the star of one of the raunchiest series in television history. Tits and ass, fucking and punching. I love the show but it would likely not be made today although, to be fair, it demonstrates women having agency over their sexuality. Nevertheless, actresses who appeared on that show have recently been asked what it was like. Over and over again they talk about how comfortable the environment was and how polite and respectful David was.

Much has been made over Gillian Anderson being paid half of David Duchovny’s salary. This is hardly his fault and something he argued against once he was made aware of it, but, as a fan of the show, I love hearing him talk protectively of Mulder and of wanting to protect that relationship. I love that he was responsible for rewriting an ending to one of seasons 11 episodes which end not with Mulder objectifying Scully and not with him in his under wear, but with Scully opining the door and him standing there. As David said, Scully being in control of her own desires.

Finally in Miss Subways, I find a female character written with such realism and authenticity that I have to go back to the 19th century to find a female literary character so relatable to me. She is a reader, beautiful to some men, a little eccentric in some ways, vulnerable, strong but without a great belief in herself or her talent. She’s just fucking real in a fucking real world despite being in a surrealistic fantasy novel with Irish banshees and African spider goddesses, parallel timelines and phones that can alter reality.

We, the fan girls, love this celebrity, David Duchovny because of his looks, his talent and his personality; because he is a bad boy and a good guy; because he inspires us, because he is flawed as we all are and goes through his life trying to be present in the day. For all the fan women who have yet to meet you, Mr. Duchovny, I say thank you and we love you, until they can meet you and tell you themselves.

Happy Birthday, Charmion. If you should meet him someday when I am not there give him an extra hug for me.

[random-imagines-blog]

Noir {James McAvoy x Fem!Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: @kellysimagines Wordcount: 3632 Summary: Your relationship with James is amazing, but fans seem to want to get between you two during an important day in your lives. James takes not one, but three dramatic steps.

There had been controversy about yours and James’ relationship from the get-go. It was largely circled around the fact that you were eleven years his junior, and that it progressed quickly, with you starting to date and then moving in within a span of six months. It didn’t much matter to you what the magazines and the blogs said, though. Things between you and James were amazing, an you were absolutely smitten from the first moment that he had charmed you into dinner. Well, before that when you first caught eyes but you wouldn’t admit that outloud for it sounded like you were some sort of crazed fan. You got along well with James’s friends too, which was a huge relief because they were a big part of his life. There was nothing that could go wrong ... or so you thought, until you woke up one morning feeling sick to your stomach despite not drinking anything the night before.

The pregnancy test had come back positive. Your backups all did as well, all of the different brands giving you the pink cross, the right amount of lines, or even just saying ‘pregnant’ as in the case of the digital test. You washed your hands profusely after each test, then sat on the toilet seat with your fingers tapping at your bottom lip, looking at the line of tests in front of you. In your mind, you were starting to panic, wondering how you were going to tell James about this. In your heart, you were exploding with happiness because starting a family was something that you wanted to do now that you have found the man that you loved, and who loved you back. It was a crazy debate and there was one question most prevalent in your mind - would James even want this?

-

You had put a plan in motion once he was back at home. You had to make this as smooth as possible, and make sure that he was in the best mood that he could be for this news, since you still weren’t a hundred percent sure that he would consider it to be a good thing. If he took the pregnancy as a good thing, it wouldn’t be possible that you could be happier.

You dressed in one of his shirts a week after you had taken all of the tests, and your package had come in. You paired it with a comfortable pair of jeans, and styled your hair the way that you knew James liked it the most - up so he would have access to your neck. James was laying out on the couch, flipping through the channels on the TV, settling on a comedy show.

“Y/N, what do you want to do about dinner?” James called once you walked into the room, then he looked you over, smirking when he saw that it was his shirt that clad your body. He found it to be a turn on when you wore his things, it gave him a sense of you being his. “We goin’ out then?”

“James McAvoy, get off that couch and take your girlfriend out to dinner,” You said, biting down on your lip, attempting to sound dominant. There was no argument with that, for as soon as you said it, he turned on the television, and got to his feet. James immediately rushed past you, pausing to kiss your cheek, then got into the shower and started to get ready, making you grin. Of course, he was not going to say no to your request, nor to going out for dinner since honestly, he wasn’t much of a cook, as he’d shown you more than once. Annoying as it was, he couldn’t do much more than breakfast foods.

It didn’t take him long to get ready, and he approached you while fixing the collar on his jacket. It always took your breath away how good looking he was, even when he wasn’t meaning to be. It made you smile as you took a step towards him and helped him to fix the collar. You even leaned in to smell the cologne that he had recently sprayed on, which didn’t trigger any sort of negative response from your stomach - it was one of the few things that didn’t.

“The Chinese Place?” You suggested, hoping that he would say yes or your little plan would be entirely ruined. But he agreed easily, and grabbed his keys so he could drive the two of you there.

James even went as far as to open the door for you, since he didn’t get the chance to the first time that the two of you were here - which just so happened to be your first date a year ago. So long ago, that seemed, though the decor in here hadn’t changed at all. They lead you to a private table towards the back of the restaurant, and took care of all of your needs immediately. Some might think that it was because of who James was, but no - the service here was just amazing.

Every time the waitress went by, you were tempted to call her over, but you had to do it secretly. You waited until you were nearly done your food then excused yourself to go to the bathroom - because you really did have to use it. It was one of the disadvantages to being pregnant, but at least you weren’t getting sick.

Needless to say, when you did stop the waitress near the bathroom doors, explained the situation and gave her the custom-made fortune cookie, wrapped in a clear plastic bag, she was more than happy to do this for you. You thanked her profusely, then went back to your table as if nothing had happened. You did a good job, James didn’t suspect a thing. Your anticipation and nerves were starting to make you feel jumpy, so you continually drank your glass of water until the waitress from earlier came around with the two complimentary cookies.

That was just the start. James started to reach for the one that was given by the restaurant, but you reached forward and grabbed it first, smiling sneakily. It made James chuckle and shake his head, then go for the other one. You didn’t open yours, not straight away, but slipped it into your pocket for later. James cracked open his cookie, pulled out the fortune, and read it with squinted eyes.

‘There will be a new addition to your family in seven and a half months.’

One minute went by, where you were staring at James, biting at the corner of your lip, waiting to see any reaction from his face. He read it out loud again, as if he had misinterpreted it. It was after the third time that he looked at you with wide blue eyes.

“Y/N?” He poured everything he was wondering into your name, saying it as a question.

“Even confirmed by the Doctor, though I started with some tests at home,” You told him, putting your hand over your belly.

“Wait - you ... we, you’re? So you’re -” James was hardly able to get the words out, but you nodded with a twinkle in your eye. It looked like it was a good reaction, for his mouth had started to turn into a smile. His hands went over his face, and pushed tendrils of hair backward. “For real?”

“Two months, give or take a week or two.” You told him. In a flash, he was out of his chair, and kneeling by your side, with his hand over your stomach. You exhaled your nervous breath - how could you have thought for a moment that he wouldn’t be happy about this? He loved kids, he was always going on about ones that he met through charity work. You smiled as he kissed the fabric of the shirt that you were wearing, right at your belly button.

“This is incredible y/n... I - I can’t wait to meet him, or her, or .. whatever they want to go by.”

-

You had Doctors appointments every couple of weeks, just to make sure that everything was coming along fine. For a first pregnancy, you were surprisingly calm about most of the ordeal. Then again, you didn’t have much morning sickness at all, though certain smells did make you want to leave a room immediately, like oatmeal. Much like you and James, your group of family and friends were ecstatic for the pair of you. You even used this as an opportunity to grow closer to James’s family, especially his sister Joy who had treated you like a sister since the moment she saw the chemistry between you and her brother.

It was because of this relationship that you left it up to Joy to take care of the Gender Reveal party. But she was the only one who was allowed to know the gender before hand - You and James had talked about it and decided that you were going to do a livestream with his instagram followers when the gender was revealed. As you were more relaxed and lowkey, the reveal would just be the inner color of a vanilla cake, covered in Buttercream frosting.

It started as an absolutely lovely party. You were almost five months along with a noticable bump under the dress that you were wearing. You had taken to wearing some of James’s shirts the last couple of months but even they were starting to get a bit tight around the middle. James never minded when they were stretched, but he did enjoy the look of you in a dress.

Fast forward to the reveal. James had propped up his phone on a table against the wall, so the comments could be seen if you squinted enough, and the camera was directly on the two of you and the cake. It was a bit overwhelming knowing that there were thousands of people out there sharing this special moment with the two of you, but James considered the fans to be very important.

It really hit home when Michael Fassbender handed you the large knife to cut into the cake with. It sliced clean through without any resistance, then you handed it to James so he could make the second cut and pull out a piece onto a plate.

“It’s a boy!” Joy called out on behalf of everyone who didn’t have as good of a glimpse of the baby blue inside of the cake. You couldn’t be happier, and it showed all over your face, just as it did James. On one major thing the two of you agreed - gender did not matter, as long as he, or she, was healthy, and grew up happy. You leaned in an kissed James right on the lips, and he returned it greedily, only breaking away when Jessica Chastain let off a confetti canon that shot neutral greens and yellows over the two of you.

Finally though, things started to settle down and the guests began to leave until it was only family who offered to clean up everything so you and James could relax. Since you had the opportunity, you slipped into the bathroom for one of the famously long pregnancy pees, and to check the messages on your phone. Though James had been the one livestreaming, you had a lot of people tagging you in things. Because of the baby news, you assumed, and was excited to see if any of the fans were as happy for you as your friends were.

The beginning of the bad started then. You noticed a couple of nice comments, but the majority of them were absolutely negative. Flooding James’s more recent pictures were the nastiest comments from mainly females, calling you a Golddigger, fat, ugly, not good enough for him, and calling him a cradle robber and other disgusting things.

A feeling like being kicked in the stomach came over you - probably because you just were. A strange moment for the baby boy inside of your stomach to start kicking. All of the positivity that you had from the party just dissipated, and you crouched down on the floor, your hand over your baby bump, trying to keep back the tears.

James took a couple of minutes to find you. He was saying goodbye to his friends, and had assume that you went to lie down since the pregnancy made him tired. James then came up to join you, but heard you sobbing in the bathroom, with the door locked. He knocked - and you didn’t answer. You only opened the door upon threat of him breaking it down to get to you.

Once he saw your damp cheeks and red eyes, he pulled you into a hug and lightly kissed the crook of your neck. “I  don’t know what this is about, but we’ll work it out.”

“It’s not something that you can work out.” You told him, resting your head on his shoulder. You inhaled the scent of his cologne which immediately helped to soothe you, but then those words came back into your mind.

“It has to be - tell me,” James asked. You pulled away from him slowly, and looked at his bright blue eyes, full of worry.

“You have to promise not to get too mad, baby.” You told him. Things would not go well if his temper got involved - damn that Scottish heritage. The man that you loved took a deep breath and then nodded, so you pulled the livestream back up on your phone and handed it to him. Thankfully, he asked no questions, and watched with a confused expression as the cake was cut into - that’s when the comments started, filling up the feed. “You promised...” You said, biting down on your lip, fighting the tears back as you saw the hurtful words.

“You were wrong, I can do something about this.” James said. You watched as he left the hallway to go back to the living room, and followed tentatively. He had gone for his phone, and was doing something on it, concentrating carefully.

“Don’t make it worse-” You said, but he shook his head. A moment later, you got the notification on your phone that James had posted something. You opened it up to see that he had just posted a black square. His profile picture was black as well. Under it was the caption, ‘I don’t tolerate bullies. Neither should any of you. I’m ashamed of social media today, so I’m calling for a blackout to call out the bad behavior.’

“You don’t have to do that.” You said, though your heart was partly touched. You were sure the backlash for this was going to be intense though, with his fans blaming you.

“You’re the most important person to me, I’m not going to just let them say those things about you.” James wrapped an arm around your shoulder and kissed your temple gently. His words meant the world to you, for you know that he meant them.

-

You were standing backstage, your son in a baby wrap around your chest, sleeping soundly. You were treated extremely kindly by the staff at the Graham Norton Show, and being here was always really fun. James was sitting on the couch with a couple of other celebrities, but as usual, he was the only one that you could look at. Surely after so long, your crush might have worn off and you two would be a comfortable couple but you were still as infatuated with him as you had been since day one.

“You’ve been on blackout on social media for a year now, do you miss it?” Graham asked James.

“You know Graham, I don’t think I do,” James said, clapping his hands together in front of his knees. Graham looked a little surprised by that, and waved for his guest to tell him more. “It can be a very toxic environment sometimes, and though I miss connecting with the fans a bit, it gives them a platform to be rude towards my family.”

“I watched the livestream of the gender reveal, there were quite a few comments on there - but Instagram misses you, look at this!” Graham pointed to one of the monitors and on it, Instagram posts chiding the bullies, petitions, all sorts of things were made to get him to come back to Social media. You did start to feel a bit bad for over-reacting to the comments of a few jealous people, but you hadn’t told James to do this - he decided to go total noir on his own. “Is there anything they could do to make you come back?”

James rubbed his chin in thought. You smiled as you saw a familiar light come into his eyes - his lighthearted spirit was going to come out and play.

“Y/N, come out here and tell me what you think?” He called out to you, which was not entirely what you were expecting. Your hair was thrown into a mom-bun to keep your little man from grabbing at it, you were just in a sweatshirt and jeans, you were far from glamorous enough to go on TV. But the audience was already cheering for you, and James stood up with his hand extended, beckoning you over.

So you went out, with your six month son swaddled around you still. While it wasn’t going to be your first debut on television, having done a few things with James in the past, it would be your son’s. You heard the ‘awwws’ of the crowd, and from Graham and the other two guests as you smiled shyly and approached your boyfriend, taking his hand. This then gave him incentive to sit back down and pull you onto his lap, and wrap his arms around the both of you. He had never been afraid of public affection, that’s for sure. “But what do you think, love, what will it take to get me to post more pictures of my beautiful face?”

“Humble as always,” You laughed, looking into his blue eyes rather than all of the ones that were watching you right now. “You know that I never asked you to stop posting, that was your decision.”

Graham tried to speak but the little baby in the swaddling started to gurgle, taking the spotlight, making both you and James grin. You moved off of James’s lap to next to him so that you could take hold of your little boy’s hand so he had entertainment.

“I might just have an idea,” James said, looking past you at Graham, then into the counter. You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering just what this was going to entail. “I’m going to look into different anti-bullying charities, and you can help me pick one today Graham. We get to... five thousand pounds and I’ll go back to using my account?”

It made the audience happy, and Graham nodded approvingly. The other guests on the couch clapped as well, and James smiled at you, looking for what you thought. You nodded, thinking that was great - at least something good would come from the misery that those comments brought you, and hopefully nothing like this would ever happen again.

He wasn’t finished though. You looked up as James got to his feet and reached into his pockets for something. “James, what are you-”

“Let’s do more to show those bullies how wrong they were.” He breathed out. Instead of that little bit of mischief, he seemed to look nervous now, which in turn made your own belly flop. He didn’t even seem to care that he had entirely taken over Graham’s show, though the host didn’t complain much either. “You know that all of those things that they said about you wasn’t true - I don’t care about your age, in fact, you’ve made me feel like a younger man again.”

James got down on one knee, to the amazement of everyone in the room, from the audience to Graham to the cameramen. It was starting to feel really hot in the room now - or was that just you? James’s neck seemed to get a bit red, and he had matching sweat droplets on his forehead as you did.

“That you handled it all so well, along with being an amazing mother to our little boy just made me realize that everything in my life right now, especially you, is perfect. You are everything I have ever wanted, no matter what anyone says. You are the only person in this world I could consider marrying so...” You gasped as he brought out a blue velvet box, and opened it to reveal a ring. James and you had talked about this but ... so public, while you were looking far from your best? “Will you marry me?”

“Of course.” You said, blinking back the happy tears that took up your eyes. Instead of engulfing him in a big hug like you wanted, you had to settle for kissing the top of your son’s head since he would get caught between the two of you. The ring wen onto your finger, and every mean thing that anyone has ever said about you no longer stayed in your head, because you had the most perfect boys in the world loving you without limits.