#even if I somehow became a multimillionaire

[chaotic-pulsar]

I love Bingley because like… not everyone can be quiet and mysterious and cosmically misunderstood and stinking filthy rich like Mr. Darcy, but… anyone can smile and love as freely and unabashedly like Bingley. His golden retriever “I love you I love you I love you I’ll shout it from the rooftops” energy? Absolutely PRICELESS, I tell you. 10/10. Fantastico. I LOVE Bingley. He’s just… gahhh I love him

[archive-z]

a few months ago i was wracked with the Horrors (nightmares) & coped by sending @ghstbird deranged rashidposting takes from 3-6am

it’s been saved in my notes app for awhile, so as a midwinter treat pls enjoy 1k of comedic “what if ex-talamasca agent rashid needed a new job post-dubai & became daniel’s personal assistant/butler?���

Rashid’s cover is blown, which means his time as a Talamasca agent is over. It’s either desk duty for the rest of his life (a waste of his abilities) or quit and find something else he’s good at. Not surprisingly, all the skills you need as an undercover intelligence agent — on-the-fly problem-solving, fastidious attention to detail, implacability, reading people, blending into the background of any room you occupy — are the highly sought after traits of ultraluxury butlers/personal assistants.

Afterall, Daniel does kind of Owe Him One for helping him out in Dubai. The least he could do is offer some sense of stable employment, with fuckoff $ compensation that newly minted multimillionaire Daniel Molloy is now in the position of being able to provide. Fetching Daniel’s dry cleaning and handling his divorce paperwork is child’s play in comparison to navigating the volatile psychosexual energy of the Dubai penthouse.

The only problem is that it’s boring. Rashid is depositing hundreds of thousands of dollars into tax-havened bank accounts and doing very little to endanger his life in the process and he is bored. Naturally, his only course of action is to engage in Jeeves-levels of deep psychological warfare for sport.

(Daniel keeps buying white jeans, Rashid keeps burning them in the utility sink).

Daniel, quintessential Bertie Wooster that he is, is mostly unaware of this going on around him. He has not considered that the decision over whether or not he should wear a tie on his next tv appearance warrants the 5d chess. (Brat tamer Rashid is so good at brat taming that the brats aren’t even aware they’ve already been tamed in the first place). on the rare occasion Daniel does happen to notice the ironclad grip Rashid has on some minor aspect of Daniel’s life, he thinks its hot (something something giving up control & being put in his place).

As a matter of convenience, Daniel does drink from Rashid when he needs a snack, because hunting really cuts into his busy schedule of celebrity appearances and firing off expletives on twitter. Daniel was initially hoping it would be the like Louis-and-Fake-Rashid schtick in Dubai, but Rashid stays 100% dead eyed and implacable throughout le petit coup, which Daniel finds somehow even hotter. Occasionally, Daniel attempts to engage in the vampiric equivalent of edging Rashid during le petit coup, but when he reads Rashid’s mind to see if it has any effect, Rashid is doing to mental equivalent of a number station broadcast.

When Daniel is in his “why won’t my deadbeat maker fucking text me back era” he absolutely has Rashid roleplay as Armand. Rashid looks down on him with a mixture of disdain & pity and Daniel’s like “wow, you nailed that impression” and Rashid is like I’m not doing an impression, that’s just literally how I think of you 🫥

However Daniel is also out there lavishing Rashid with gifts of unfathomable $ bc he’s lonely & likes feeling like he can show off his own wealth & status thru like. wearing beat up converse himself but having Rashid decked out in the best of savile row. at one point Daniel has an extremely tired & long suffering Rashid tell dinner guests that he, Rashid, is “the devil’s minion, [and Daniel, the devil], grants his every wish”. everyone in the world is like wow Daniel midlife crisis much?

Rashid gets to blow off steam after a day of catering to Daniel’s most annoying whims by slipping into his Armand cosplay and being like “alright you pathetic worm, time to lick my savile row leather oxfords” to which Daniel is already like “put your cigarette out on me” levels of Into It

Real Rashid, smoking a cigarette: you were already divorced and won a pulitzer the year i was born, isn’t that interesting? Daniel: can yuo put that out on me?

Rashid’s personal feelings are deep down: 1) this isn’t actually the most Bullshit job he’s worked & the pay is actually commensurate with the predicted risk to his livelihood, unlike working for the Talamasca 2) he’s bored & getting to run a vampire’s life is the most fun a girl can have without putting his life at an untenable risk-reward ratio 3) Rashid thinks sex is pretty cosmically boring for the most part (beyond its function as stress relief), but knowing it pisses Armand off somewhere in the world adds a lil frisson to the arrangement that Rashid actually enjoys 🖤 he derives sexual enjoyment from being in danger & he knows Daniel’s freak behaviour will probably inspire Armand to rip Rashid’s spine out & slow cooker him in jealousy so he’s like “haha, neat :)”

Daniel is doing weirdo exhibitionist stuff like having guests to dinner and being like “okay, real rashid you sit in my lap and pretend to be fake rashid so i can drink from you” in the hopes that the psychic “wtf is going on” from his dinner guests is loud enough for Armand to catch the psychic wavelength and be pissed off about it. (it takes MUCH coordination to get their relative heights into a configuration that suits this).

Daniel gives Rashid a monogrammed locket of his blood to keep him safe from other vampires & Rashid openly rolls his eyes at the gift. (every vampire in a 100km radius has already clocked that Rashid is actually the one to Be Afraid of, not the coked up nepofledgling).

[will post part two later — will involve what happens when Armand gets wind of what’s going on]

[margridarnauds]

5, 14, & 24 😊

Thanks!

5. What made you start your blog?

I found out that on Tumblr, there were tags + content for the Nordic Bronze Age and Goblin Sharks, and I thought that that was the best thing ever. I started off as more of a general History Blog™, but as time went on, for various reasons, I ended up dropping that and became more all-purpose, as you see.

14. What's something you always wanted to do but maybe been scared to do?

It's funny, because even though I was definitely shy and scared in my younger years, I wouldn't self-describe as such now. Socially, there's a lot I'm scared to do, but activity-wise? If I want to do something and I have the time and I have the money, I do it. I'm not scared of getting in a submarine and going into Mariana's Trench, I just don't have the money to do it. (If I become a multimillionaire, I'm obviously not going the Oceangate route, but it wouldn't be a matter of fear, it'd be a matter of common sense; I would go for someone who's more respected in the industry.) Sky-diving, I don't see the appeal of. Large roller coasters? There are some I like, some I don't; when I used to regularly go to Disney or Universal, I knew which ones I enjoyed and which ones I didn't.

A particularly niche wish is to go zip-lining above a pool of alligators at my local zoo, but that isn't really a matter of *my* fear so much as nobody being willing to go along with me.

24. What's one thing you're proud of yourself for?

I've come a very, very far way from the bullied kid in the rural Midwest. It's been a very rough time -- there has been a lot of bad, I've had to make a lot of sacrifices, but...well. I made it this far, and that's farther than a lot of people can say. Somehow, despite my family being below the poverty line, despite none of my family being academics, despite coming from a single parent household, despite being born with a congenital disability that almost meant I couldn't walk, despite my first college being a state college that had only recently been a community college...I made it this far. And if I flush out of the system, that is one thing that can't be erased. For a decade, I've been defying the odds, despite so many factors saying I shouldn't have.

You'll forgive the slight melancholy bent there; I'm facing down my comps in December. I have no idea whether I'll succeed or fail but. Well. For three years I've survived in the system. And if I flush out, I go back to the drawing board and figure out what the Hell I'm going to do next; it wouldn't be the first stumbling block.

[a-dustlandfairytale]

People don't talk enough about how grief feels like a freight train running through your chest. There is no definitive conclusion on when it will end nor fade. Some days you feel kinda normal and you wonder why your friends treat you like glass. Other days you feel like even a pin drop could cause you to break down. This post is very personal so don't read ahead if you don't feel up to it.

I was reading texts that were from my dad, whom I lost 2 years ago, and I've been crying. It feels like needles of torture, but somehow worse than that would be to forget and ignore, because it feels like that's what everyone is already doing. It feels like my lungs fill up with fluid and I wanna cry out with animalistic wails as I grieve. Boy do I grieve. Grief is used too sparingly for a word that takes a bite out of your world.

My dad died when I was 19 (going on 20) I'm the most painful way possible for me. He had been sick on and off for months. He promised he would go to the doctor if he wasn't feeling well. He didn't and I ended up finding him dead. I had to tell my family he died. When I found him I didn't even know, I couldn't tell. He looked peaceful, like he was sleeping, but he was on the floor. I called my mom to come up from the car as they were divorced. Not long later she told me to look away and thats when I knew. I don't even remember what the cops asked me when they arrived. I just kept looking to where my mom covered him in a blanket. I couldn't breathe. I still don't think I can breathe sometimes.

5 months later my oldest brother died. His mom and stepfather had always been alcoholics and always peer pressured him into drinking. My dad definitely didn't love it but it was hard to beat a guy who was literally a multimillionaire. My brother became an alcoholic as he grew up. He always thought he could just have a drink on the weekends after he got out of rehab. A month after my dad died he almost died from liver failure and didn't tell us. He just told me he was in the hospital. So he kept getting mad as I nagged him. I was so worried. Foe good reason as I would soon find out. His doctor gave him maybe 5 years to live if he stopped drinking. Maybe a year otherwise. He told us on canada day. I held his hand as he died in the hospital barely 2 weeks later during covid restrictions, which meant only 2 people could be there. Only me and his girlfriend were there. His mom was too scared to see him die. His body was so thin and his hands so swollen. They couldn't give him anymore blood cause he kept bleeding out. He actually died with a liquor bottle in his arms. While i didnt love it, it was his last wish, it was the last thing i could help do for him. Before I met my brothers mom and stepdad, I never knew I could truly hate someone. Her and her husband are people I truly hate and will never forgive. Their daughter died this year from an overdose 2 days after I saw her. They only have 1 kid now.

I've never been able to find a therapist that works for me. Like there have been some okay ones but when it comes down to it, it seems that according to them veryone and clearly it hasn't been working for me. Since all this happened it's not unlike chidis reference to the ocean, thats how my grief feels and I want it to just go back to the ocean, but at the same time, much like Eleanor, im so scared I'm gonna somehow lose along the way. It's been 2 years.

I'm 22. I wanna be normal. I want my dad and brother here so badly. I wish I had been by my dads side earlier and helped him. I have so many regrets but I feel like I can't let them go.

Anyways back to our regular scheduled programming.

[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song iii.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire. 

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader  au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, lots of lasagne talk, flirting, kissing, fluff 🥰 words; 9,340

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

After you had time to calm down, of course you ended up telling Soojung about what happened on the date. You kept some things to yourself, mainly about how giddy you had felt throughout the whole thing, but you were sure she could see that for herself – she kept looking at you knowingly, and for once she kept the teasing down to a minimum. You ended up staying awake quite late, Soojung opening a bottle of wine. You were still excited from the date and the thought of what was to come next, but somewhere along the line, you and your best friend started getting into your feelings. (Was it really a Saturday night until you and Soojung ended it with slightly drunk sappy heart to hearts and hugs? Obviously not…) 

For the first time in a while you felt comfortable enough to open up about your love life (or lack of one) and felt it easy to talk about the past and to even bring up Donghae. He was a forbidden topic for the most part, no matter how much you were over him, but tonight had changed something. You didn’t know how to explain it, and no, it wasn’t because Seokjin was somehow the man of your dreams who had magically made things better with just one date. That was dumb and only happened in cliché Hallmark movies. 

No, it was because tonight had shown you that life goes on. No matter what rock bottom you hit, or how long it took you to get over it, no hurt was forever. You’d been single for a long time, and happy at that – after you’d gotten over the heartbreak of Donghae cheating on you – but tonight you’d had fun. You’d enjoyed yourself, enjoyed Seokjin’s company. You didn’t know what would come of your second date, or if there would be a third, but you were okay with that. You were just living in the moment, and right now you really liked that infuriating-not-so-infuriating bastard. 

You were taking a chance, just like he was, and it was actually pretty exciting…

.

.

You woke up late the next morning, something you didn’t reprimand yourself for because it was summer break after all, but also, you had a raging wine headache that had needed all the shut eye it could get. Your head was still throbbing slightly as you reached for your phone on the bedside table but seeing a text from Seokjin waiting for you made it miraculously disappear. 

Seokjin (10:28am) Hi Y/N, Thank you for such a great time last night. I can’t wait until Saturday. Would it be alright with you if I kept in touch throughout the week?  Seokjin

You giggled to yourself at his insane formalities. Why was that so adorable? But most importantly how could he be both cute and sexy at the same time? He was hellbent on making you lose your mind. You thought about teasing him, asking him when he’d grown comfortable enough to drop the Regards from yesterday, but despite how well last night had gone, and despite how much you loved joking around with him in person, over the phone seemed different. You were still a little nervous – giddy nervous, but nervous, nevertheless. Your conversation from last night with Soojung came back to you, reminding you that this was all too real. You were potentially catching feelings for this man, and it was new, and exciting, but equal parts terrifying now that you’d woken up with a hangover. 

Everything you typed out in reply seemed way too stiff, so growing frustrated, you settled on an emoji to cut through the formalities. 

You (10:49am) I had such a lovely time too, Seokjin. Of course it’s fine to keep in touch. I’m looking forward to Saturday night! 😊

What did he mean exactly about keeping in touch?, you wondered as you got out of bed, padding your way down the stairs and into the kitchen for a much needed glass of ice cold water. A good morning text? A how are you? You knew he was busy with work all week, so you weren’t expecting too much, but just knowing he wanted to stay in contact until next Saturday made you smile to yourself as you waited for his response. 

You didn’t have to wait long. 

Seokjin (10:55am) Great! I’m so excited to try your World famous Italian lasagne 😁

Cute. He’d followed your lead, ditching the last of the formalities and even signing off with an emoji instead. You instantly felt more at ease, but – 

Oh no. 

Why did he have to bring that up and remind you of your humiliating blunder? You knew what would be taking up all of your time for the few days – you needed to perfect this goddamn dish. 

Soojung on the other hand was unbothered by your predicament. Mind in the gutter as always. “Do you think that’s a euphemism for something else?” She asked straight away once you’d shown her your messages a few hours later. 

“Soojung!” You exclaimed, feeling yourself get a little hot in the face. You wish she’d stop bringing up sex, it was stressing you out. You told her as much. 

“You’re the one who’s invited him to your house for a second date.” 

You stared at her, greatly unimpressed. “You know why I invited him here.” 

You’d told her last night. You’d been hit with a surge of confidence when you’d suggested it was your turn to decide on something. In truth though, you didn’t know the first thing about restaurants, you hardly ever ate out, and when you did it was either fast food or at the food court in the department store Soojung worked at. You knew he wouldn’t have minded any choice you’d made, but that didn’t stop the slight apprehension you felt. 

It was normal, given your difference in lifestyles, and whilst that seemed to be no issue thankfully, that difference was still there. However really, that’s why you’d chosen to cook for him. Seokjin had shown you something close to him last night – the restaurant he owned with his brother, and now you were to show him something close to your heart. Something that was you. You loved cooking and baking in your spare time and you wanted to share that with him however small. Granted it was things you were confident with, but lasagne couldn’t be that hard, right? A true perfectionist, you’d master it quickly enough…

Soojung rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you could suggest McDonald’s and Dilf would be insanely happy.” She nudged you, squealing like a kid. “He’s just so into you!”

You wouldn’t bite. She was making you nervous again. “Stop calling him Dilf, he has a name.”

“Geez, sorry.” She held up her hands in apology. “Didn’t mean to offend your man.” 

You pushed her shoulder, silently telling her to quit it.

For the next few days it became your life’s goal to master the art of lasagne. Sunday night was spent googling recipes, trying to find the most authentic one. There seemed to be a lot of fuss on the right type of pasta. Flat edged would be fine, but the wavy edge was best. You made note of that. Next was the sauce. Two types. The tomato based one and then the white one – which you learned was called Bechamel. That seemed pretty easy to cook up, but the former seemed a little daunting. Every time you’d had pasta sauce in the past it had been premade, starting from scratch was giving you anxiety. Seokjin thought this was your expertise so you had to make it believable. What if you made it too salty? Too bland?

…Possibly you were thinking way too hard about this. Soojung thought the same. 

“Just buy it in a jar, Y/N, for Christ’s sake. You’re taking this way too seriously. You don’t need to learn fluent Italian to make your little white lie believable. It’s a goddamn lasagne.” 

She had a point. 

“He’d be happy with a sandwich. He’s coming over for you, not the shitty lasagne.” 

“Don’t call my non-existent lasagne shitty, you’re setting me up for failure.” You grumbled, looking at the ten tabs you had up on your laptop screen, all claiming to be the best most authentic recipe around.  

On Monday you went shopping for ingredients. You knew a small world foods store that was just outside of town, you’d been there a couple of times when you’d been baking with the children for class. With help from signposted aisles, you found what you were looking for in no time at all, so that night, you and Soojung both tucked into your first (sort of) homemade lasagne. Only the Bechamel sauces was harder to master than you’d first thought. 

“I think you added too much flour.” Soojung’s nose wrinkled as she spoke. “It’s nice, don’t get me wrong, but the white stuff… I don’t know, maybe it’s supposed to taste like that?” 

Nope, she was definitely correct, too much flour, which was odd because you were pretty positive you’d followed the right measurements… 

Tuesday you had a day off from the sight, and even the word lasagne. You met for coffee with your mom but kept the date with Seokjin a secret. Not that she pressed about your love life anymore, she’d long given up on that topic. It was nice to catch up and you made plans for a trip soon. It was hard to find time to visit her when you were in work so you were always thankful for the summer and Christmas breaks. You were her only child, so it made your time together even more precious. She’d only remarried ten years ago, and while Jonathon had kids from his first marriage, they lived abroad. They were older than you and had families of their own. You weren’t particularly close for no other reason than the distance. You’d only met them a few times but they were lovely people. Your father had remarried while you were still in high school, having two more children (a son and daughter) with his wife. You were very close to them despite the age gap and saw them as regularly as you could. Your extended family had long been the norm and you wouldn’t change it for the world. 

Wednesday you were back on the lasagne. You purchased more pasta sauce and decided on the pre-made Bechamel sauce too, just to be safe. This time around everything went smoothly, Soojung had no complaints and neither did you, but you still invited Taehyung around on Thursday for a third go. He was way more enthusiastic than your best friend, singing your praises all night. 

“Y/N, that was amazing!” He exclaimed, leaning back in his chair to pat his belly. “Dilf dick – Uh, I mean, Seokjin, is going to love it.” 

“Guys, is that what you really call him when you’re alone together?” You whined. 

“Blame Soo,” Taehyung shrugged. “She’s rubbed off on me. But, I’m right,” he smirked. “He’s going to want to give you his DD once he tastes this, if you know what I mean.” 

Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, you looked on unimpressed. Maybe if you gave them no reaction they’d stop? 

“Oooo. I wonder what his dick even looks like. I bet it’s as handsome as his face.” Soojung squealed, sat beside her boyfriend. 

“SOOJUNG!” He cried, mouth open in disbelief. 

“Can we just stop talking about his… y’know…” You sighed, unable to say the word aloud. “Imagine if it was the other way around and he was wondering about what I looked like naked.” Soojung wouldn’t be impressed, that was for sure. 

“Fine, you’re right,” your best friend sighed. “I’m just way too excited because you finally like someone!!” She was getting loud now, she always did when she was excited. “And I want it to work out because you deserve it!” 

You chuckled. “Soo, calm down.” But you had to admit her words were sweet. You reached for her hand across the tiny table, giving it a gentle squeeze of thanks. 

“What about Barman dick?” Taehyung asked randomly, totally oblivious that you and she were having a moment. “Huh? Soo? You want my Barman dick tonight?” He wiggled his eyebrows again, a playfulness to his voice as he nudged her. 

She giggled but wasn’t having any of it. “It doesn’t really have the same ring to it, babe.” 

Highly offended he pulled away, pursing his lips. “Whatever.”

“Okay guys, let’s not have a domestic at the dining table.” You laughed. Which was a mistake because now Taehyung’s attention was back on you. 

“So, Y/N, when are you going to invite Mr. Dilf to my bar?”

You sniggered. “How about never?”

“Hey, you ladies are being very mean tonight. I complimented your lasagne.” Hm. That was true, you guessed. “What’s wrong with my bar? I think he’d love it. What does he drink? I see him as a dark rum type of guy.” 

You shrugged. “He was drinking red wine on our date last week.” It still made you feel funny to say the word date. You’d gone on a date. You were dating. A flurry of excitement found its way to your stomach, your excitement for Saturday growing. 

“Interesting,” Taehyung mused.

Soojung stood up, starting to collect your plates. “Okay, I’m washing, who’s drying?”

“Not me,” you sang. “I’ve cooked nearly every night this week.” 

Soojung eyes were wide when you met them, as if she was silently begging you. For what? “Just please promise me there won’t be any lasagne waiting for me after work tomorrow night? I’m going to turn into one at this rate.” 

Saturday arrived soon enough. You woke up the same time your phone went Bing and you knew exactly who it was. Seokjin had been texting you Good morning every day since Monday. He was no longer signing them off with his name, which was progress, and he was even adding more emojis, so you guessed you had rubbed off on him. 

Sometimes he’d drop a meme with the greeting. They were mostly to do with early mornings and workloads to which you’d tease him about because it was your summer vacation after all, you didn’t need to worry about work. But you always sent a Hope today runs smoothly his way too. You didn’t want to rub it in too much. 

Yesterday’s meme had been about dating, something about the guy trying to flirt but being garbage at it and asking if she liked cheese. You didn’t agree that was like Seokjin though – you were gradually learning that he was incredibly modest – but it had made you laugh. Only Seokjin could send you lame memes and you’d find it adorable… You were possibly whipped. 

Seokjin (8:01am)  Good morning. [Image sent] 

Today the meme was about lasagne, which made you question whether he was googling these every morning because no way had a lasagne meme popped up on his social media – if he used any at all. The realisation that he was searching for memes every day was even more endearing and your heart got a little gooey. You read the text on top of the image of lasagne. Dude, is that your new white shirt? Lemme just hop off this fork for a closer look. You genuinely laughed at that one, still wrapped up in your bed sheets. So incredibly lame, but equal levels funny. 

Seokjin (8:01am)  I will not be wearing white… I can’t wait to see you later. Just a reminder that I hope you omitted the garlic for tonight’s meal. I don’t want to embarrass myself by itching all night 😅😂

Immediately the smile dropped from your face and you shot forward, horror washing over you. Oh no. He was allergic to garlic. With the stress of perfecting the world’s best lasagne you’d totally forgotten. What were you going to do? Find a plain tomato sauce? Where the hell were you going to find one? Was that even a thing? You needed to leave now. Jumping out of bed you almost forgot to message Seokjin back. Looking at your phone again the image of the lasagne mocked you… 

.

.

Two hours later you were back at home, in need of a sit down after you’d rushed around town looking for a pasta sauce that didn’t contain garlic (very hard, by the way.) The stress had aged you about ten years. Soojung of course found it highly hilarious. 

“You’d have been in ER before 9pm,” she chortled, still in her pyjamas on the couch. She’d been still asleep when you’d dashed off, a woman on a lasagne mission. 

You ignored her. It wouldn’t have been that bad, right? He said himself he’d only be itching… Clawing off his own skin was probably better than his throat closing up… maybe… 

“How did you manage to forget?” She was still laughing. “AND you said you’d make a lasagne. Italian food always uses garlic. He must think you’re trying to kill him.” At this point you could hardly understand her, words blurring into one as she lost her shit. 

“We went over this. I wasn’t in my right mind when I said I’d cook lasagne.”

She stopped her laugher immediately.  “No way, you’re not blaming me again.” 

“Ugh.” You sighed, suddenly remembering something. “I was going to make my homemade garlic bread.” Now that was a speciality of yours. This night was going to be a disaster.

“Skip the garlic,” Soojung suggested. 

“So, just bread then.” 

She tried her best not to laugh again, not wanting to make it worse. “Yum.” 

It didn’t help. 

What did help though, was making her clean the entirety of the downstairs of the house. As the day went on you started to get more and more nervous, which was silly, but you couldn’t help it. You realised that your place was a shoe box in comparison to his, what the hell were you thinking when you’d invited him here?! It needed to be spotless, to distract him from the fact you would be eating dinner in the same place you would be cooking it… 

You knew there was no need to worry, it was just like last week when you’d grown self-conscious only to be fine once you’d set eyes on Seokjin. No doubt tonight would be just the same, he didn’t give a crap about stuff like that, so why would you even think he would? He’d probably be hurt if he knew… You just couldn’t help those little bubbles of insecurities from floating around inside your brain. You were a law unto yourself, and the garlic-less lasagne wasn’t helping. You’d had no time to prep for it. What if it tasted like cardboard? 

“Lasagne is lasagne,” Soojung reassured you, in the kitchen as you got all the ingredients together. “It’s not going to taste gross just because there’s no garlic in it. Put it this way, at least you can kiss without needing to pop a mint.” 

You whined, shaking your head, you couldn’t even dare thinking about kissing him right now. You’d spontaneously combust from anxiety. 

“Should we clean your room too?” She asked, picking up the jar of pasta sauce absentmindedly. You’d already read the label approximately fifteen times, double checking it was indeed garlic-less. 

“What? No,” you told her, voice all high-pitched. There would be no going upstairs besides from bathroom usage. “But hey,” you exclaimed, rounding on her with the spoon you were holding in your hand. “My room is always clean, bitch.”

She was the messy one.

.

.

Soojung left for Taehyung’s place at half 6, ready for Seokjin’s arrival at 7pm, a hug for good luck before you waved her off. You’d calmed greatly now, nothing like some table laying to ease some nerves. The lasagne was prepped and ready to oven cook, you had a fresh key lime pie in the fridge and you were dressed and presentable with ten minutes to spare. Wonderful. 

The doorbell rung not long after you’d made your way downstairs and you were quickly finding out that Seokjin was a very punctual man. Opening the door to reveal him stood at the porch your heart instantly warmed, skipping a beat when he gave you a dazzling smile and a soft Hey. You felt a little weak at the knees. Nope, you were not ready for tonight. 

In your tiny entryway he offered you a silver gift bag. “I didn’t know what to bring, so.” He said with a shrug as you pulled out a bottle of red wine. 

“Oh, thank you, Seokjin.” You hadn’t been expecting him to bring anything at all. It was a lovely surprise. 

“You probably have some waiting already. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you reassured him. “We’ll use this one.” You were going to use a bottle of white wine you had laying around, nothing special at all. Red wine seemed better, fancier, maybe it would go better with the lasagne?

“Are you sure?” He asked. “I was gonna get you flowers but I didn’t want to freak you out or anything.”

You laughed. What was he going on about? “Why would that freak me out?”

His smile was crooked as he chuckled quietly. “I don’t know. I’m new to this, I thought they would’ve been too forward.” 

You gave a small shrug, voice barely there when you replied. “I like flowers.”

He gazed at you, warm eyes softening as he stepped forward. “Next time.” He smiled. “Next time I’ll get you flowers.” 

You swallowed fairly loudly, averting your gaze as you outstretched your arms. “Let me take you coat.” Was it hot in here? You felt a little stuffy. 

He shrugged off the beige wool blend, revealing the tight fitting black shirt he had on underneath. It stretched over his shoulders, accentuating how broad they were, how hard his chest was and how much his waist curved inwards. The pants he was wearing didn’t help matters too. He looked effortlessly gorgeous, hair parted to the side, a piece curled above his left eye, softening the blow of his exposed forehead. You moved to hook his coat on the rack, realising you could’ve been gawping. Not that you could help it, the man was trying to kill you.

As you turned to face him again, he smiled. “You look really nice.” His voice was soft which just made it even more dangerous. “I think this may be the first time I’ve seen you in pants.” 

“Really?” You wondered. You were partial to a dress in the summer, so he was probably right. You’d chosen a pair of black skinny jeans and a patterned chiffon blouse. Nothing too fancy, but he looked at you with awe-filled eyes. Unless you were imagining it. You cleared your throat. “You look good too.”

He stepped back, arms outstretched as he looked down at himself. “Thanks. No white.” He chuckled. 

You forced yourself to laugh too, nerves creeping back just because of your stupid damn lasagne. “No white.” 

Moving forward again he took your hand. It was warm and soft, just as you remembered from last week. Who cared about the lasagne when you were this close to him? When he was looking down at you with those brown, twinkly eyes? Not you anymore. 

“I’ve been looking forward to this all week, Y/N.” 

Oh.

.

.

You invited him inside the living room first, pouring him a small (and his only because he the car) glass of wine as you chit chatted for a few minutes. Sat next to him was RJ, who you’d taken from your bedroom to join you both for the night. He wanted to say Hi, had been your opening line and Seokjin had found it hilarious, cracking up instantly. Although his “I missed you buddy, how have you been?” went rudely ignored. Maybe the alpaca was nervous… 

Ever the gentleman, he complimented you on the house, noting the décor with a fond eye. That surprised you, maybe he had played a part with the interior of his home. Well, you’d only seen the cosy family room – but it suited him very well. You knew there had been no need to be nervous when it came to inviting him into your home. There wasn’t a judging bone in Seokjin’s body. 

You talked about your weeks, yours had been fine, but of course you left out all the stress over the lasagne. Seokjin’s week on the other hand had been quite demanding, but that was nothing new he told you with an accepting shake of his hand. He was used to it by now, but he had to admit tonight’s date had made it easier this time around. He was full of the charm, not that you were complaining…

Misook was babysitting Arin tonight, he told you when you asked how she was. It was his weekend this week, he and Nana took it in turns – when she didn’t cancel, he added as an afterthought – but he seemed a lot more relaxed talking about his ex-wife this time around seeing as last weekend she hadn’t broken any promises. He was happy if his daughter was happy, and that made you smile. You remembered Arin’s sorrowful face that day her mom had cancelled on her, so you were glad they’d found time to spend time together. You also remembered how irritated Seokjin had sounded when he was opening up to you on the bench at the school fate… You wondered just how often Nana cancelled plans, and couldn’t imagine how frustrating that was for both Arin and Seokjin… You hoped this marked the start of things being easier for them now. 

Soon after that, you served him your starter (“garlic – wait, no I mean, no-garlic bread.”), and you chatted some more over that and while the lasagne baked. It was surprising how little you’d touched the sides on your first date, so tonight you covered even more bases. Family mainly. You told him about your half and step siblings, your parents’ remarriages of course coming up too. He seemed interested in that, wondering about your views on it and if it had affected you as you grew up. As a divorcee you understood the relevance to him and because he was so easy to talk to you found yourself opening up freely. 

His parents were still married and Seokjin was the youngest out of their two sons, so it was quite unheard of for the second born to take over a family company. In fact, it was the first of its kind for his, which made it even harder for him. His older brother had been the rightful heir to LG Electronics but his passion had always been in culinary arts. His parents had been kind enough to let him follow his dreams, and thankfully, for Seokjin, that meant he could follow in his father’s footsteps. He’d been eager to prove himself but it had been hard in the beginning. His status as the youngest son meant that a lot of people set him up for failure, but with his family’s love and belief he’d managed to succeed and confirm himself as the rightful CEO. You didn’t doubt it. It seemed he’d worked hard to get where he was now. That was admirable. 

The influx of information was so interesting to you and it didn’t feel real. While you could imagine Seokjin taking charge, visualising him in that tailored houndstooth suit he’d worn when you’d first met him, it was strange to think the smiley and soft-spoken man sat in front of you was from a long line of power and wealth. He should be untouchable, yet here you were able to reach for his hand across the table. Able to feel his forefinger stroking delicate patterns into your palm as you opened up and got to know one another more and more… 

“So, if your family’s a big deal, what about things like arranged marriages? Are they still a thing?” You asked, maybe confusing fiction for fact. 

Seokjin laughed at your wording. “They used to be, not so much anymore. I met my ex-wife through a friend. They concentrate less on things like that these days.” He shrugged, adding as an afterthought, “As a divorced CEO I think I’m a great example of that.” 

That was true, you thought to yourself, wondering how the breakdown of his marriage had also played a part in the stress of his early years as CEO. 

“I know it all sounds pretty crazy, but I like to think my family is just like anyone else’s.” He continued, smiling bashfully when you met his gaze. “That I’m just like anyone else.” 

You wondered how many people had immediately judged him because of his status… You’d been one of them, right? Even if you hadn’t known any of the details, you’d written him off as some obnoxious, rich guy who flaunted his wealth… You felt guilty thinking back. He was the complete opposite.

You nodded in agreement before grinning. “I’d have liked to see what college Seokjin was like.” 

“A complete nerd, to tell you the truth.” 

He answered so seriously, you didn’t know how to react, and then he was laughing loudly, cracking up at himself. You couldn’t help but join in. That’s when your stove alarm went off, shrill and incessant, signalling the arrival of the dreaded lasagne…

It turned out he loved it though. 

“This is amazing,” Seokjin praised, mouth still half full as he chewed. You did have to admit it was good. It tasted just like the original, despite the lack of garlic. Seokjin quirked an eyebrow, smirking your way. “So, how lucky am I to be able to try this World famous Italian lasagne?” 

“Very lucky.” You kept your answer short. Hoping he’d just drop it. 

He didn’t. 

“How lucky?” He tried to pry from you. “How many people have tried it?” 

You gave him a small smile, hovering your fork over the plate. Technically he was the third, but you couldn’t tell him that, could you? “I can’t disclose that.” 

He emitted a short laugh. “What about the recipe? Care to share?” 

You brushed him off with a soft chuckle. “A chef never tells her secrets.”

“Not even me?” His bottom lip jutted out as he looked across at you. 

Your heart did a little dance. He was being unfair. “Don’t pout like that, it’s making me feel guilty.” 

Thankfully the lasagne topic fizzled out after a couple more minutes, your cold sweat having time to dissipate while you chatted and ate together comfortably. However a few minutes later you noticed Seokjin fidgeting slightly in his seat. You politely ignored it to begin with, unsure if you were just imagining it, but then he started itching the back of his neck. You put your fork down, a sick feeling washing over you. “Is anything wrong?” You asked, now watching him itch up his forearm. “Seokjin?”

He looked at you in mild confusion, eyebrows creasing together as he opened his mouth. “Are you sure there wasn’t any garlic in this?” 

You swallowed away the panic racing up your throat. “I’m sure.” You’d read the back of that jar and then read it some more. “I’m positive.” 

… Weren’t you? You watched him scoot his chair back, leaning down to start scratching the back of his calves. He made noises of discomfort as he did so. 

“Oh, no…” You were up before you could stop yourself, racing around him to start hunting in the recycling for the glass jar. 

“Wait, where are you going?” 

You could hear Seokjin’s voice behind you, sounding alarmed, but you were too panicked to really take it in. You needed to be sure. This was just your second date, you couldn’t ruin things already. Turning him into one giant itchy red blob had not been your intention.  

“I was only teasing you.” Still, his words didn’t sink in. That was until you felt a hand on your elbow, tugging gently for your attention. 

You spun around, worried eyes wide – even wider when you found him so close. He was on his feet too, bent a little to level with you, pretty much within kissing distance. His voice was soft when he spoke, you found yourself distracted by his mouth. “Y/N, I was just messing around.”

You blinked, not truly understanding with all those annoying distractions zooming around your mind, but slowly you pieced his words together. Oh. Despite the relief you felt, now you just felt silly. Plus, he was still so close to you… 

You took a step back, the small of your back pressing up against the counter. You needed a clear head. “Don’t freak me out like that.” You told him, but you still sighed in relief, hand against your chest. “I thought I’d poisoned you.” 

He looked a little concerned, but you could tell by his eyes he found your reaction amusing. “I’m sorry,” he apologised. “I just wanted to make you laugh.”

“Make me laugh? You nearly gave me heart failure.” However, you gave him what he wanted, a laugh that sounded weak and shaky, but it was something – you did see the funny side. 

He joined you, shoulders relaxing now that he knew you were okay. He looked behind you, eyes on the trashcan, a bemused smile on his face. “What were you looking for anyway?”

“The jar.” You answered, as if it wasn’t obvious. You turned, deciding to fish it out anyway. Holding it up to him, you were adamant. “See, no garlic. Check.” 

He chuckled. “I already said I was joking.” He took one look at your desperate expression and gave in, taking the jar from your hand. “But if it makes you feel better…” You watched him as he read the label, silently soaking in his handsome features. He looked softer tonight, the curve of his jaw rounding as he smiled. It took you a moment to realise he was done. He handed the jar back to you, and you prayed to God he hadn’t caught you staring at him all gooey-eyed. “It’s fine.” He confirmed. “I’ll be itch free tonight.” 

You smiled and plopped the glass back inside the can. “I looked around town for hour trying to find lasagne sauce sans garlic.” 

He looked guilty. “I’m sorry for being awkward.” Then he paused, eyes narrowing, the hint of a smirk itching at the corners of his mouth. “But… Y/N, are you a fraud?” Huh? What did he mean? You didn’t need to wait long for an explanation. “I thought a certified chef would cook up a batch of her own tomato sauce.”

Oh. You’d gone and put your foot in it, hadn’t you? It was probably time to explain yourself… “I have a confession,” you began, sounding wary. Seokjin looked interested albeit it mildly confused. “I… may have told a little white lie.”

He shook his head, a puff of laughter leaving him. “You’ve lost me.” 

You took a deep breath, knowing you were going to have to spell it out for him. “I’ve never made lasagne before. Ever. In my entire life.” 

He looked confused as silence spread out between you. He sounded it too when he spoke again. “Then why did you say it was your speciality?”

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands for one dramatic moment. “I panicked.” Peeking at him, you babbled on. “I know it sounds stupid but Soojung was curtain twitching and it was stressing me out and then you were asking me what I cooked and lasagne just popped into my head!”

Seokjin blinked, his mouth twitched and then he was laughing – loudly. 

“You find it funny?” You asked, relaxing a tad. 

“Very.” He laughed harder but seeing the look of bafflement on your face he tried is best to still it. 

“I’ve been practicing it like crazy,” you whined, happy you could finally tell him all about your lasagne struggles. “This is my fourth time eating it this week. Soojung nearly killed me.” You snorted at the memory. This started up Seokjin again. “And then I forgot you were allergic to garlic. Your text reminded me this morning and I had to rush out to the grocery store.” 

He was weak at the knees at that, and you were laughing just because he was. It was contagious. “Stop,” you wailed, attempting to get a hold of yourself. This week had actually been quite traumatic. “I’m glad you find it funny, I’ve been in constant stress ever since you drove off last week.” 

“I can’t help it.” He chuckled, although he did sound apologetic. “You’re just so adorable.” The air that settled around his effortless admission made your skin prickle. When he carried on, his tone was gentle. “You know I wouldn’t have minded if you changed the menu to something else, right?” 

You pouted ever so slightly. “But you were looking forward to it.” 

He gave a small shrug. “True, but… that was more so code for ‘I’m looking forward to seeing you again.’ The food was just a bonus. I’d be happy with a Big Mac.” 

You felt your cheeks burn and you tried to shake yourself out of it. “So embarrassing,” you murmured. You didn’t know what for… The lasagne mess or the fact he could have this much of an effect of you? You were inclined to go with the latter. 

“What about the no-garlic bread?” Seokjin asked, changing the subject a little. Maybe he’d sensed your embarrassment and didn’t want to make it worse. He was sweet. “Did you make that?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Well, I didn’t bake the bread. I just toasted it.” It was still a speciality of yours though. “It would’ve been much tastier with the garlic.” 

He gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. This body wants to turn me into a miserable old man.” 

Pfft. Old? Miserable? He was anything but. 

“Sit,” he prompted you, smiling as he motioned with his head to the table. “Finish your World famous Italian lasagne before it grows cold.” 

As you moved he delicately cupped his hand around the curve your waist, giving it a soft squeeze before he got to his chair first. Your stomach flipped, head dizzy as you sat and tucked your chair in. Last Saturday popped into your head, the way you’d loosely held hands outside and how you were sure he’d been leaning in to kiss you – properly. 

You knew one thing. You really wanted to kiss him tonight. 

Trying to get a hold of yourself, you glanced at him, catching his eyes. He was already tucking in again, and he grinned bashfully, as if embarrassed. “This really is great. All that practice paid off.” A pause. “You should show me how you cooked it sometime.” 

Your face lit up in surprise. “You cook?” In the back of your mind you were aware that he’d probably been hinting for a third date, but you were so shocked by the possibly of Seokjin cooking you couldn’t stop yourself from asking. 

He chuckled quietly. “I mean, when I have time and can be bothered. I like cooking but it’s just easier to go to a restaurant or get it delivered.” He looked sheepish before adding, “Or Misook does it for me.” 

There was no shame when it came to that. Seokjin probably worked all hours of the day, no one could expect him to tie on an apron when he got home and start pulling out pots and pans. 

“Do you cook a lot?” He asked. 

You nodded. “Soojung and I take it in turns.” 

“So what is your speciality?” He smiled. 

This time around you were in your right mind and able to answer properly. “Veggie tacos.” 

He raised his eyebrows, impressed. Then he tried again. “Can you make them for me sometime?”

He was persistent, you’d give him that. You shrugged, trying your best to sound impassive but the little smirk gave it away. “Maybe if you say please…” 

He laughed, leaning forward, a hand clasping yours as he tilted his head. The piece of curled hair falling into his left eye. “Please?”

Your heart did another little dance inside your chest. 

.

. 

After dessert you both made your way back to the living room, settling on your couch with two pomegranate mocktails Taehyung had prepared for you yesterday. All you had to do was add the pomegranate juice and lemonade to the ice cubes and crushed lime segments and mint before serving, easy-peasy. Seokjin was highly impressed, but of course you couldn’t take the credit. It was all down to your best friend’s very helpful barman boyfriend. 

You were glad Seokjin wanted to stay as you didn’t want the night to be over yet. It had flown by so fast and you’d had so much fun. You already felt like you knew him better, even after only two dates. It was strange to you, how you could feel so relaxed in a stranger’s company, but then again, you guessed he wasn’t a stranger anymore… Plus, he was so easy to talk to, so interesting to get to know…. Everything between you two came easy. 

Like opening up to him, being a bit more vulnerable… 

“I’ve been slightly nervous all week,” you admitted, clutching your drink to you before chuckling softly. “– and not just about the lasagne faux pas…” 

“There was no need to be nervous. I thought we left all that behind on the first date,” Seokjin reassured, smiling warmly your way. 

You were sat together, turned to face one another. It was intimate and cosy. He had one leg lifted, the ankle resting on the knee of the other leg, and where his pants had ridden up, you could see an inch or so of his calf before it met the black cotton of his sock. For some reason, you found that very, very sexy. Maybe you had been single for far too long. 

“We did,” you agreed, hesitating slightly. “It’s just… I haven’t done anything like this in so long.” 

You didn’t even think you’d ever invited someone around for dinner before. You were still quite young when you found yourself in a relationship with Donghae so your dates before him had been very basic. Your dates with him hadn’t really classed as such just because you became official fairly quickly, and your dates after him, well, it was already known that they had been few and far between. 

“You already know we’re in the same boat,” he smiled before chuckling bashfully. “No, but really, when I asked you for dinner that day at the fate I was expecting you to turn me down.” 

“How come?”

He looked down at his drink, lifting a shoulder. “I thought you’d think that I was crossing a line… or maybe the spark I was feeling was all in my head and in reality you just found me really annoying.” 

That was cute. He’d been doubting himself. Human after all. Not that you’d ever thought he wasn’t. You still didn’t miss the opportunity to joke around though. “I mean, both can exist simultaneously.” He taking a sip of his mocktail when you replied so he ended up snorting into his glass, amused by your wit. 

A moment or so passed and Seokjin gazed at you, smiling softly. If he kept this up, you’d be a puddle on your parquet flooring. “So, tell me,” he hummed. “How did I luck out so good?” You raised an eyebrow, wondering what he meant. “How come an amazing person like you isn’t married or in a relationship?”

He must’ve seen the slight shock on your face and panicked instantly. “Is that a weird thing to ask? I feel like it is. I apologise.”

“No,” you insisted, sitting up a little straighter. He followed. “No, it’s not.” You wanted to open up to him. You really did. You just didn’t know where to start. Although, it was pretty simple. “I’ve been single for a while.” 

“How long?” Seokjin was instantly focused, attentive, noticing the change in your body language. 

“Three years. My last relationship didn’t end very well.” You paused, wondering if you should continue. But then… It had been a massive part of your life. No matter how much time had passed and no matter how okay you were now, it had still happened. And Seokjin, he had trusted you enough to open up about his divorce – even before you’d gone on your first date. You wanted to talk about it. You really did. 

“I found out my fiancé was cheating on me.”  

Seokjin’s eyes widened, unable to cloak his surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said sincerely. 

“It’s fine,” you smiled. “It was rough getting over it. Took me a while, but it is what it is. It’s in the past now.” 

“Did it put you off dating?” 

You were pleasantly surprised to find it was actually easy to talk to Seokjin about this. Your mouth was opening before you had to think about it. “I mean, at first. I was still very much in love with him, even after he broke my heart. But I got over him and I started dating again – briefly – It just didn’t feel right.” You stopped to smile. “It’s been over a year and I can’t say I missed it… but you…” Nerves growing, you pushed them away. “You’ve changed that. I’m having fun.” 

Seokjin’s face lit up and he chuckled. “I did hit second date status after all.” 

“You did…” 

“So,” he leaned closer, a small smirk on his face. “You could say, hitting your car that day wasn’t actually my fault because it was supposed to happen.” 

You snorted as you laughed, head falling against the back of the couch. “I wouldn’t go that far.” 

He made a sound. “But we wouldn’t have met otherwise.” 

“We would!” You exclaimed. “The parent-teacher meeting.” 

He blinked, feeling dumb. “Oh, yeah.” 

It wouldn’t have had the same effect, granted, but you would have become acquainted with one another regardless. “Would you have still liked me?” You asked without thinking, surprising yourself. 

“Yes,” he replied immediately. “I was instantly attracted to you after all, it’s just…” Instantly attracted? Definitely a charmer... “There would’ve been no way for me to get to know you like I did.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re really adamant that you had to reverse into my car to make this work, huh.”

He shrugged casually. “It was the only way.” 

You laughed quietly, finishing the last of your drink. Time was getting on, it was pretty late, Seokjin had already finished his, you watched him sit up to lean forward and place the glass on your coffee table. His shirt tightened across his shoulder blades and you could see his back muscles as he stretched. Oh.  

Settling back into the same position, he looked over at you and grinned. His teeth were perfect. Did this man have zero flaws? Why were you so whipped? It was embarrassing. 

“I had fun tonight,” you told him, trying to keep a lid on whatever was going on with you right now. 

He seemed pleased with that, nodding his head. “I’m happy to hear that you think I’m a fun person.” 

You scoffed, body falling closer to his. Your shoulders brushed together. Seokjin didn’t take his eyes off you. “Hm. I don’t think I said that.” 

“Hey, don’t be so mean.” He murmured, one side of his mouth quirking up. 

Like you couldn’t stop yourself, your hand reached for the collar of shirt. He had the top two buttons loose and your pinkie finger brushed against his collarbone. Sparks flew, but you tried to ignore them. “I thought you liked it when I was mean.” You teased, voice low. 

Seokjin hummed, his eyes still twinkled like they always did but there was something else to them, a depth that made you feel funny. He sunk closer to you. So close you could study the thick curve of his eyelashes, notice that both his eyelids were different. He really did have beautiful eyes. You could stare at them forever. 

Preoccupied, you slowly realised that he was watching you too, studying your features in the golden glow of the floor lamp that hovered over the couch. His lips parted, you heard them rather than saw it, but then your attention was on them again. Just like it had been earlier on in the night. He was staring at yours too as he spoke. “I wanted to kiss you last week.” 

You heartbeat quickened but you tried to keep cool. “You did kiss me.” You laughed. 

He sighed. “On the cheek.”  

You lightly tugged his collar, fingertips now brushing the skin of his chest. “Isn’t that what you said you wanted to do?”

You could feel his own heartbeat against your forearm that was pressed into him. It was definitely running a little faster than it was supposed to – stronger. “Yes, but…” He glanced up to your eyes. “I was just being polite. I wanted to kiss your lips.”

It felt like you were holding your breath. Maybe you were, you just couldn’t think straight. Time seemed to stretch out, but you knew what you wanted. So you went after it. Giving him a small smile, you replied. “Maybe I wanted that too.” 

He swallowed, voice so low now it was barely a murmur. “Is that an invitation?” His eyes bounced to your lips again, then back to your eyes as he asked permission. “Can I kiss you?”

You ever so slightly dragged your bottom lip beneath your teeth as you nodded, breath catching in your throat as Seokjin leaned forward and closed the distance between you. The hand in between your bodies moved to delicately hold the wrist of your arm against his chest, holding you there as his other hand reached for your jaw, angling your face to press a kiss to your mouth. His eyes were already closed so you followed. 

He hummed at the contact, his lips soft and warm and you let yourself sink. His actions were light at first, faint as he kept constant pressure, as if he was familiarising himself with the sensation. You couldn’t even let yourself think about how this was the first kiss you’d shared with someone for a very long time. All that was going through your mind was how good it felt to be touched like this by him. 

He readjusted the hand on your face, tucking some hair behind your ear to cup your cheek. You liked that. You liked it when he touched you, and he eased from your mouth completely before coming back with a firmer pressure. It was your turn to make a sound; a tiny gasp as your lips began to move together ever so slowly. He liked that, a hum of satisfaction vibrating against the soft skin of your lips. You clutched at his shirt, gathering the crisp cotton in your fist, that would surely turn it creased, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was too preoccupied with reaching for the glass you’d forgotten was hugged to your body by your free hand. 

He unclasped it from your fingers and had no choice but to break away from your mouth to put it next to his on the coffee table. You whined, attempting to tug him back to you, and he chuckled, taking a hold of one of your hands. “I’ll be back,” he whispered, leaning forward to place the cocktail glass down. 

And he was. 

This time he used both of his hands to grasp your face and dive back in. He was more confident this time, moving in such a way his lips pried yours open. You reached for his shoulders, grasping them to hold him closer and this time you both made noises – sweet, quiet ones that worked beautiful together as your lips moulded with gradual urgency. 

When your hands found the nape of his neck, fingers through his hair, he had to drag the tip of his tongue across your bottom lip, seeking entry. You met it with yours, tasting hints of pomegranate and lime with each wash of tongue. A hand of his slipped down to your side, stroking up and down the curve as if he couldn’t help but to touch you. He settled at your hip after a moment, the other splayed against the side of your neck, his thumb rolling small circles under your cheekbone. 

This was getting addictive. You could tell by the way you moaned softly against each warm, wet curl of his tongue. This was everything you’d imagined and more – because you had imagined it. Late and secretly at night when you were trying to drift off to sleep and thoughts of lasagne were banished… You were glad your first kiss was here, inside, on your couch, because this wasn’t something for the open, your knees wouldn’t have been able to hold you up. 

You could have kissed him forever, you mean, you definitely didn’t want it to stop but you pretty much had to. Breathing was a necessity, right? If you couldn’t breathe you wouldn’t be able to ever kiss Seokjin again and that would be absolutely awful… 

You did it the right way though – gradually. Seokjin slowed it right down, only hints of his tongue left as he hummed indulgently, like he was savouring your taste before he had to inevitably pull away. It made your insides jump around like crazy, hearing him enjoying himself, and you tried your best to come to when he started easing the pressure of his lips, pressing small, chaste kisses to them instead as you ultimately (but slowly) broke apart. 

You opened your eyes, blinking up at him, hands falling from his hair, aware you had become one with your cushions. You struggled to free yourself as he sat back and you watched him smile fondly at you. His breath was shaky – so was yours, and you were sure his hands trembled slightly as one reached up to scratch the back of his neck. His neck that was blotched with red, flushed, travelling to his cheeks. They were rosier than you’d ever seen them before. Your gut stirred. 

“I’ve been dreaming of that,” he told you, before making a face at himself. “Too cringey?” 

You giggled – it sounded foreign. “Just a bit.” But didn’t deter the fact you loved it. 

You warmed when you felt him squeeze your hip, realising his hand was still there and you reached for it, tangling your fingers with his. He pulled them to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly. His expression was thoughtful when he lowered your hands. “In all seriousness, thank you for giving me a chance, after well, you know, everything.”

You smiled, touched by his earnestness, but it was hard to keep a sane mind when his lips were as kiss bitten as they were – deep pink and glistening. You wanted to kiss his face off. 

“It’s no problem,” you quipped, as if you were doing him a favour. 

He chuckled tenderly, and luckily for you he was unable to stop himself from kissing you again. He reached forward, hooking a finger under your chin to press his mouth to yours softly. “I’d really love if we could keep on doing… this.” He murmured. 

“The dating or the kissing,” you grinned, stealing another kiss in the process. 

“Hm,” he contemplated. “Both preferably.” 

And then you were on one another again, eager once more. 

Although, you did manage to pull away briefly to tell him something, his mouth moving to the side of your face to kiss there instead as your hands dragged down his back. You were somehow able to get the words out – ones that made him laugh against your wet jaw. 

“I’m so glad you hit my car.” 

Written 2020 - 2021.  Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

[akaiiro-yume]

Today I found out Voltage Inc. has a whole other site dedicated to spicier stories including side stories of the some guys in Love 365 (〃ω〃)

Just like Love 365, the stories are bought using coins. Some stories are bought per chapter (200 coins per chapter or 300 coins if you want the CG) while others are bought as a whole (700 coins).

Since the first chapter of every story is free, I decided to check Eisuke’s out. Below is my rough translation of Chapter 1 out of 6 of his side story.

This story is about what happened during the first night of Eisuke and MC after she confessed her feelings to him. Enjoy ;D

Ichinomiya Eisuke: Cold-hearted Ore-sama |Multimillionaire

“I’ll make you my woman. You have no right to reject.”

STORY 1

Eisuke: “I will make you mine.”

MC: ( ! )

Carrying me over his shoulders similar from before, he threw me down above the bed.

From my pinned down position, I attempted to meagerly resist.

MC: “W-wait please...Isn’t this too sudden…!?”

Eisuke: “You don’t have the right to reject.”

MC: “No way...”

MC: (This is what happened just a few minutes earlier.)

Flashback to a few minutes ago

Eisuke: “Get to the point. I’ll hear out your feelings.”

MC: “I like you, Eisuke.”

MC: “I’m probably not suitable...but...”

Eisuke: “Enough.”

Eisuke: “...Let’s go to the bedroom.”

MC: “Eh! T-that’s...so sudden...”

Eisuke: “I’m not asking for your answer. It’s already decided.”

End of flashback

MC: (He kissed me in the middle of my confession, and things soon became like this.)

MC: (My heart has completely not caught up.)

For now, I took a deep breathe to calm down and speak.

MC: “I’m happy I got my feelings across to you. But...”

Eisuke: “What are you unsatisfied about?”

MC: “I’m not unsatisfied. Things are just progressing too quickly than usual...”

Eisuke: “I don’t know about your past guys.”

MC: “Eh! You’re mistaken. I’m not comparing you to anyone...”

MC: (In the first place, when was...before?)

MC: (I got more and more anxious when I couldn’t remember immediately...!)

MC: “A-anyway, don’t say something that’s misunderstanding!”

Eisuke: “Then what is it?”

Becoming very impatient with me, he’s gazing at me with increasing irritation.

MC: (This is bad...I probably made him angry...)

MC: (I can’t say that I’m just bewildered...!)

MC: “It’s not that I don’t like that kind of stuff.”

MC: “Just that, I think I can’t be like the women that surrounds you...”

Eisuke: “Oh, it’s about that.”

MC: “ ?”

Eisuke: “You’re jealous of those women.”

MC: “Jealous...that’s”

Eisuke: “Say it clearly.”

MC: “My...breasts aren’t big.”

MC: “Speaking of my waist, it’s not that slim...!”

Eisuke: “You don’t need to say what can be seen just by looking.”

MC: “But...”

In the first place, everything about Eisuke and I is too different.

Worried that I’ll be a disappointment at important occasions, I became increasingly hesitant.

MC: (He’s used to seeing beautiful women that look like models.)

MC: (How is someone like me who’s very ordinary reflected in his eyes?)

MC: “...Eisuke, everything about you is cool.”

Eisuke: “What are you saying now?”

MC: “But I haven’t had much of an opportunity to look at you up close and thoroughly like this...”

MC: “A-also, your hands and legs are so slender!”

Eisuke: “Useless.”

Eisuke: “Did you think I’d be please by you praising my appearance?”

MC: “On top of having no sex appeal, I’m sorry that I don’t have a lick of cleverness...”

MC: (...I think I probably look like an flatterer.)

Because of impatience, nervousness, and anxiety, I ended up talking on and on about useless things.

And yet, somehow I continued to think about things that could delay.

MC: “Ah! Should I make coffee?”

Eisuke: “......”

[Eisuke is smirking]

MC: (? What does that face mean...)

Eisuke: “I see.”

Eisuke: “The goal of your useless conversation is to buy yourself time.”

MC: “!”

MC: (I was easily exposed.)

The instant my shoulders shivered with a jump, mischievous eyes drew close to me.

Eisuke: “I don’t care about sex appeal.”

Eisuke: “Did you think that was what I desired from you?”

MC: “But...ngh...”

My lips that were opened for the sake of conveying my confusion were blocked by a kiss.

Although I still have thing things I want to say, the lips overlapping mine tightly shut didn’t allow me to do that.

MC: “W-wait please...”

Eisuke: “So troublesome.”

Eisuke: “I’ll ask your body directly.”

Eisuke whispered with a low voice while tracing the contour of my lips.

Pierced by his alluring eyes, I forgot about my thoughts in a blink of an eye.

MC: “Ngh...”

His hand slid behind my neck and drew my head close, stealing my lips one more time.

Repeated kisses from different angles erased my meager resistance.

MC: (Eisuke’s kiss...why is it so...)

His skillfully bewitching kiss gradually made me light headed.

While repeatedly kissing me, he removed the buttons on my chest exposing my naked body.

I couldn’t bear to be exposed under his eyes, so I unintentionally stopped Eisuke’s hand.

Eisuke: “Don’t hide.”

MC: “B-but...it’s embarrassing.”

Eisuke pulled my hand to him and entwined it with his, bounding it to the sheets.

Just by being stared at with eyes tinged with heat made my pulse beat fast. I slightly turned away my gaze.

However, even that wasn’t allowed. He caught my chin with his fingers and faced it to the front.

Eisuke: “Just look only at me.”

MC: “Eis..suke...”

Our lips overlapped again entwining our tongues.

I accepted his tongue that was moving as if caressing the inside of my mouth.

Soon, I wanted to take a breath as if I’m completely caught in fire.

MC: “...nngh...ngh...”

Eisuke: “......”

A sigh spilled out of me as his heated fingertips incessantly traced the contour of my body.

Eisuke stopped the kiss, and stroke his tongue down from the nape of my neck to my collarbone.

MC: “...Ah...no...”

Eisuke: “If you don’t like it then try pushing back strongly.”

MC: “W-wrong...it’s not that I don’t like it...”

The wet stimulus thoroughly followed my body, play-biting below my collarbone.

My lips, my fingertips, and my breasts too...

His heat was completely transferred to all of the spots he came contact with. My body quickly began to grow hotter.

MC: (Why is it this hot...?)

MC: “Haa...”

Eisuke: “You’ve become extremely hot.”

As his low voice reverberated in my ears, a shudder of delight runs down my body.

If he stimulates the soft flesh of my inner thigh like that, the shivering of my toes will become greater.

MC: “....ngh...”

Eisuke: “Do you finally like it?”

I suddenly feel my skin exposed to the night’s air, making my shoulders shake a bit.

The one-piece dress that had been undressed before fell to the floor.

Exposure of my bare skin made my pulse beat faster.

MC: “Eisuke...”

Eisuke: “Your body is honest.”

The moment he lifted his head to pleasantly whisper...

MC: (Ah...)

Eisuke leaves to take off his shirt then while entwining our legs, he slowly descends upon me.

Eisuke: “Show your everything to me.”

———End of Chapter 1 ———

P.S. Feel free to use the translation as you’d like, but please credit back to me if you do.

[sleepykittypaws]

Same Time, Next Christmas

Original Air Date: December 5, 2019 (ABC) Where to Watch?: Freeform will re-air it several times this season, and it’s also available right now on Hulu, and ABC On Demand.

Same Time, Next Christmas is the first network made-for-TV Christmas movie since 2016’s Christmas of Many Colors on NBC. As such, it had a far larger budget than a Lifetime or Hallmark joint and spent about a month shooting at the Turtle Bay Resort on O’ahu, so expectations were fairly high.

The first thing my husband said when he saw this starred, “The Glee Girl,” also known as Lea Michele, is, “Does she sing?” And the answer is…Kinda? They play a couple of her Christmas songs over the opening and closing credits, and there’s a bit of caroling, where you can tell she’s struggling mightily to restrain her Broadway voice. (Or, not really trying at all, depending on how you feel about Lea Michele.)

The movie opens with flashback scenes of little kids battling for beach chairs in Hawaii. This continues for years, (minutes in the movie) where we see these two kids, and their families, frolic on the beach every holiday. We see family photographs, text messages and lots of flirting and even a kiss, plus all sorts of happy family moments, until they’re teens and one of the moms dies, so the yearly visits stop for Charles Michael Davis’ family. 

What we don’t see, EVER, are siblings. Nope. Not a mention. Not a background actor. Nothing. Not in the pictures. Not in the family moments. We even see Lea Michele’s entire family arrive at the hotel MULTIPLE TIMES, and it’s just the three of them. THESE SIBLINGS DO NOT EXIST. 

And, yet, in present day, when both families return to the resort, Davis' presumably for the first time since his on-screen mother’s, off-screen death, surprise…They each have a sibling we have never seen, nor even hinted at. Did these mysterious close-in-age sibs never interact with the families through all those years until now? C’mon, movie…Hire two other kid actors and don’t let them speak, but at least show them in the flashbacks. Fair warning: This never once stopped bugging me. 

Oh, and, Lea Michele’s brother is gay and interracially married with a child, solely I presume so that child can have a later interaction with Chad Michael Davis’ child who, unlike normal children of that age, can fit into the exact same swimsuit for three years running. (Not to be alarmist, but they should have her checked, because that lack of growth is abnormal.)

While I’m all for representation and am mostly in the something-is-better-than-nothing camp, but to say the magically appearing siblings get short shrift, would be implying this story had any shrift to give them. Other than his husband posing shirtless (and good for the gay brother, nice catch), there is even less for Michele’s brother to do in the story than Davis’ newfound sister, whose only role is to suck the joy from their father’s life with her nagging. Cool roles for your gay  and African-American woman characters, movie.

So, anyway, Lea Michele is an architect who wants to build beautiful municipal buildings and is sad that towns want to, you know, prioritize function and cost, thus saving taxpayer dollars, over her beautiful designs. When Davis suggests using steel, in lieu of glass, to save money and “still bring in light” and she thinks it’s a genius idea, I am concerned for both of them that they don’t know how transparency works, and think they should definitely not fall in love because their kids would be super pretty, but real dumb. 

Even dumber than their own parents who each apparently, oops, left one of their children home from a Hawaiian vacation for 13 years running. …Again, I never stopped thinking of this throughout the movie. Even all the pictures the hotel shares later, feature only young Lea and Chad. Were these siblings adopted by the families at age 25? If I were them I’d be real ticked I missed all those awesome Hawaiian vacations.

Speaking of, the other thing I never let go of is…How do these people afford these annual vacations to O’ahu at the busiest/most expensive time of the year, with each family member getting their own, large beachfront suite? Maybe Davis’ family, who it's pointed out a couple times has a five-store chain in Boston, could manage it, but how did Michele’s parents, portrayed as hippie, dippy homeopaths pull it off? Are they also bank robbers? Is that why their extra child wasn’t with them? Was he doing time for the family’s crimes?

And adult Davis apparently has a beachfront San Diego home and an endless supply of $250k sailboats at his disposal, anywhere in the world, so he’s clearly also, somehow, a multimillionaire, even though it’s implied his dad is disappointed in his career choices. So, yeah, this movie does not understand how life, money or families work. 

Despite that, the respective parents, minus dead mom who only gets one line, were the best part of the movie. Fun, funny and the bit about Michele’s parents not being able to keep their hands off each other was that comedy thing where they kept repeating it so many times it actually became funny.

Anywho, Chad and Lea reconnect over sailboat wine and private waterfall swimming. (They actually shot at Waimea Falls, closing one of the most popular hikes in the island to tourists for filming, which I bet a lot of people on their once-in-a-lifetime Hawaiian vacation appreciated.) But, oh noes, his not-quite-ex-wife wants him back and he leaves Lea in Hawaii to go to Vermont. Now, of course, you should never date a guy who willingly leaves Hawaii…Or, you know, ONE THAT IS STILL MARRIED AND TOLD YOU SO.

Then, in between that year and next, Davis gets unmarried, but never mentions it to love-of-his-life Lea, while Lea gets un-single, dating Bryan Greenberg, who we know is a bad guy because even though he shows up with thoughtful presents for her entire family and lets Davis’ daughter win the hotel’s Christmas race at the last minute, he’s also practical and loyal. And, yuck, who needs that nonsense? 

Side note, this whole movie was shot in Hawaii, including the “snow” scene set in Cleveland. Yep, not a lot of outdoor malls in Cleveland, and that stacked up ice was melting so fast, Michele and Greenberg are practically wading. I had to laugh.

Still, because she’s the worst, Lea’s character says yes when Bryan's asks her to marry him. (I can recall not one of these character names, and I watched this 12 hours ago.) And, even though she’s making googly eyes at Davis the whole time, she still spends a year apparently happily planning a wedding to Greenberg and is having it (dum, dum, dum) in Hawaii on Christmas…Just to rub it in Davis’ face I guess?

Instead of expressing her doubts way before this, she waits until after the rehearsal dinner, and after she’s gotten some assurances from Davis that he still wants her, and then dumps poor Greenberg, who really has very little to do in this movie besides compete in the hotel’s Reindeer Games, so hope he enjoyed his Hawaiian vacation.

And, as always happens in these movies, it’s portrayed as romantic when she runs after another guy (or, he runs after her, it’s hard to tell here), five minutes after calling off her wedding, which, again, was scheduled for tomorrow. Hot tip: That’s not romance, and Lea Michele’s character here continues to be the worst.

Cut to a year later, and they’re getting married on the beach. I presume a year after that they’re divorced and those family vacys get reaaalll awkward. 

Final Judgement: 2 Paws Up. Loved the Hawaiian scenery—I always want to go to there—the parents, and the sheen of a bigger budget can’t be denied, but there were just too many things I found frustrating about the story to fully enjoy this one.

[sour--strawberries]

Buttercup

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony)

universe: college!au

summary: when multimillionaire Howard Stark enrolls his son into college, Tony doesn’t think much about it. just his peers think they already know him from the colorful gossip magazines and Tony feels lonelier than ever

length: 945 words

a/n: for my college!anon. I wish you to find happiness soon! keep your chin up! (sorry, no tickling in this one, couldn’t quite fit it in with them just meeting)

———–

Buttercup

Tony put down the tray with food on the empty table, far away from everyone else. The cafeteria was full of students, full of screams and laughter, and full of eyes observing him, silently judging. He tried his best to ignore them and put a brave face on every day, but it was getting increasingly hard.

When a few months back, Tony's father announced that he would attend a public college, Tony didn't think much of it. Most of his life he was home schooled and had no problems with studying, so public college wouldn't be any challenge for him. And it wasn't. In terms of science. Socializing was a whole different story.

Being an only child, Tony never really had any friends and didn't learn how to get ones. Even if he tried to, no one was giving him a chance. Everyone knew who he was, knowing that he was the son of multimillionaire Howard Stark, was raised in a big mansion and grew up in all luxuries most of the students couldn't dream off. They thought they knew him, without really knowing him. Things turned out even worse, when Tiberius Stone, son's of one of Tony's dad's business partners, enrolled into college, Ty's dad, sharing Howard's idea of their son's socializing. Ty didn't have problems like Tony did. He was outgoing and falsely charming and easily bought (literally bought with his dad's money) his way up in the social ladder. What was worse, he started to spread fake rumors about Tony, which Tony didn't bother to correct, as no one would ever have a chance to check for themselves if they were true or not. No one bothered.

Tony put a sad, soggy fry into his mouth. He seriously debated quitting college. Maybe he could talk his parents into being home schooled again. He kept his problems hidden from everyone, trying to be strong, but there were days, he didn't see a point in lying to himself anymore.

"Hey, is this seat free?"

Tony looked up, spotting blue eyes in a smiling face. Some tall, blonde guy in sports jacket was standing across him, holding a tray with lunch. Tony quickly glanced over the cafeteria, spotting many seats the guy could take. Eh, maybe he was a weirdo.

"I guess," Tony shrugged, focusing back on his sad looking lunch.

"Great," the guy smiled and sat down, not discouraged by other teen's behavior. "I am Steve, by the way."

No answer. The silence stretched and Tony didn't bother to break it.

"You are Tony, right?"

Tony nodded. Everyone knew who he was and he didn't understand what the guy was getting to.

"Nice to meet you," Steve said sunnily, and bit into his burger. He pulled it away with a disgusted face. "This food is becoming worse and worse each year," he started and Tony didn't say a word, even if he shared this opinion. He didn't want to add the long list of adjectives the rest of students labeled him with, that he was too good to eat commoners food. "Hey, want to get some real burgers? I know a nice place."

Suddenly, Tony narrowed his eyes and looked at the other teen angrily. Something smelled wrong here, and he didn't mean the low quality food. "Okay, what is your business?" he asked in a harsh voice.

"What is my--?" Steve asked back, genuinely not understanding.

"You just come here, pretending to be nice---" Tony started a little rant, not noticing Steve's shocked expression and the way he mouthed 'pretending', repeating after the brunet, "--- and you are trying to tell me you have no hidden motive? What do you want? Money? A job at my dad's company? Just state your business already."

Steve closed his mouth and opened it back again. A friendly smile was replaced by simmering anger. "Wow. You know what, I didn't want to believe those rumors, but seems they were right. You really are a snob."

"Welcome to the real world, buttercup," Tony clipped, knowing that Steve would leave. Instead, he heard a quiet giggle. When he looked at the other teen, Steve was laughing.

"What did you call me?" he asked, grinning in delight.

Tony didn't say anything. He honestly couldn't remember.

Steve laughed some more, somehow finding it endearing. "Listen, Tony, I am sorry if I came off that way. I just thought we can be friends."

And the narrowed eyes were back. Tony didn't just have friends. "Why?" he asked, the rude tone back.

This time, Steve was prepared and smiled. He began to understand that it was other teens defense system. Hurt them first, before they hurt you. "I don't know why. There is something about you, that draws me to you. And I don't mean your dad's money," he added, before Tony could think of it. "And to prove that, I am gonna invite you to those burgers," he said, standing up, abandoning the tray with barely touched food. "Are you coming?"

Tony stared at the blond, still not understanding what was happening. Maybe Steve was honest. Maybe it was a scheme and he would get beaten up in the alley. He felt he had nothing to lose and followed Steve.

Turned out that instead of losing he had plenty to gain, and Steve introduced him to his friends, who soon became Tony's friends, Ty was expelled for throwing parties and damaging college property and when college became bearable for Tony, something wonderful happened and Steve asked him to be his boyfriend. After graduation, he asked him to marry him. And then Tony understood, that life wasn't that bad, if you gave it a chance.

[news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog]

What are we willing to cancel people over, anyway?

Beautube continues to be the messy hellscape that it is, but the feud that went down between two major YouTubers just goes to show that nobody is above drama. Still, James Charles has a history of problematic behavior — why did it take until now for the community to cancel him? 

YouTube's beauty community was shaken on Friday when Tati Westbrook dropped a 43-minute video exposing her longtime friend and mentee James Charles. Among other reprehensible behavior, Tati also denounced his habit of allegedly sexually harassing straight men. 

The takedown followed weeks of rumors, screenshots, and snarky reaction videos from other vloggers, so it wasn't new, but it was the catalyst that has other influencers distancing themselves from the teenage makeup guru. 

If you're unfamiliar with the wild world of beauty YouTube, here's a rundown of all the people involved. 

James Charles is a 19-year-old beauty maven who went viral in 2016 for not only wearing makeup in his senior photos, but also being extra enough to bring a ring light to emphasize his highlighter. Later that year, he became the first male spokesperson for CoverGirl. Since then, he's amassed an immense social media following — at its peak, he had 15 million subscribers on YouTube. 

Charles' nearly overnight fame reached a climax usually reserved for traditional celebrities, not influencers, when he was invited to the Met Gala earlier in May. He raised eyebrows when he called the invitation "a step forward in the right direction for influencer representation in the media" in an Instagram post.

But after his rapid ascent to stardom, Charles is now crashing back down. He's been cancelled.

So I retook my senior photos & brought my ring light with me so my highlight would be poppin. I love being extra 💀 pic.twitter.com/7Qu1yu8U2P

— James Charles (@jamescharles) September 5, 2016

SEE ALSO: Men's makeup brands are discreet — and all over Instagram

Tati Westbrook is a 37-year-old makeup YouTuber who also owns Halo Beauty, a supplement company that sells gummy vitamins for strengthening hair and nails. Her direct competitor is Sugar Bear Hair, a similar company whose products have been endorsed by a variety of influencers, including the Kardashian-Jenner clan. 

Tati has been "like a mother" to James, according to James himself. She took the budding star under her wing when his career was just kicking off — and he even did her wedding makeup. 

Keeping up? Good, because this is where it gets messy. 

On April 22, James posted an endorsement for Sugar Bear Hair on his Instagram story after the company supposedly helped him with a security issue during Coachella. Without naming names, Tati said she felt "lost" and "betrayed" on her Instagram story. 

"When you do so much for people in your life and they not only don't return the favor, but they just don't even see you," Tati said in her tearful video. "I feel really used." 

James publicly apologized in similarly teary Instagram story the next day, and told his followers that he "did not think about the competition."

"She has been like a mother to me since my first days in this industry," he said in his public apology, adding that he didn't accept any money for the post and that he uses Tati's vitamin brand daily. "And has given me more love, support, resources, and advice than I could ever ask for."

Fellow makeup YouTuber Gabriel Zamora — who you might remember from the YouTube apology fiasco in summer 2018 known as Dramageddon — weighed in on the situation. In a video posted on May 4, he chided Tati for her immature reaction. 

"All these videos are being made where James is being made out to be this horrible human being and I'm just confused as to what happened," Gabriel said.

In response, Tati posted a video on Friday titled "BYE SISTER," a play on James' signature vlog intro, "Hi sisters!" The lengthy video dives into why Tati felt unappreciated by James, from his hesitation to promote her brand to his reluctance to collaborate with her. She publicly severed ties with him, concluding that it was "painful to lose someone you care about, that you thought would be in your life forever, but the chapter's closed."

Since dropping the video, Tati has been rapidly gaining followers as James loses them. Twitter users and other influencers paid attention.

drama aside, i have something to say.... ❤️https://t.co/Hn20TgNSzM❤️ pic.twitter.com/vRPFCTJIEJ

— Shane Dawson (@shanedawson) May 12, 2019

Image: Twitter Screenshot/Jefree Star

As of Monday morning, James has lost more than 2.5 million subscribers in three days, according to SocialBlade. Tati, meanwhile, gained more than 2.9 million since posting the video. To put that into perspective, as vlogger Callum Markie noted, Logan Paul gained 80,000 subscribers after filming a victim of suicide in Japan. 

But the backlash isn't just over snubbing a friend — it's over a much more concerning issue. Although the majority of the video was about her personal relationship with James, it also shed light on his toxic habit of allegedly sexually harassing straight men. 

"Oh my god, you tried to trick a straight man into thinking he's gay yet again," Tati ranted in her video, recalling a phone conversation she recently had with James. "And somehow, you're the victim." 

She continued:

Tati was alluding to just one of many instances where James toyed with straight men. The receipts channel Spill laid out several examples, including his questionable relationship with model Gage Gomez. In April, Gomez posted a video calling James out for continuing to pursue him despite repeatedly turning him down. 

"[He] pushed his emotions onto me to guilt me into trying something that I didn't want to do," the model said. 

James has also publicly hit on Shawn Mendes, leaving suggestive comments on the singer's Instagram live videos and tweets. 

He later apologized in a tweet, and said he was "sorry if he [Shawn] felt sexually harassed."

After Tati's video, others came forward. Someone who claimed to be a former classmate tweeted that James allegedly sexually assaulted her friend. Singer Zara Larsson also tweeted that James repeatedly hit on her boyfriend, despite knowing that he's straight. And in a supercut of James' vlogs, a Twitter user showed the numerous times the beauty guru admitted he enjoyed pursuing heterosexual men because "it's easier than you think."

It's about time James Charles stopped getting a pass for his repeatedly toxic behavior. But why did it take a video from Tati for the internet to finally cancel him? Twitter user @Quantum_King_ questioned why Tati protected James for years, despite public knowledge that he harassed men both in person and on social media. 

Did Tati Westbrook expose a predator or did she harbour a predator until she felt under appreciated by him?

— Brokeryn Martell 🇱🇨🇯🇲 (@Quantum_King_) May 11, 2019

If James Charles would’ve promoted tati’s vitamins, do y’all think she still would’ve made that video exposing him for being trash? Let’s discuss

— femme fatale (@eliesaaab) May 12, 2019

And others pointed out how hypocritical it was for Jeffree Star, another member of the YouTube beauty community, to speak out against James despite his own problematic past. (Star has since deleted his tweet, but there is a screenshot included above.)

seeing my mutuals dragging james charles while simultaneously supporting jeffree star and it’s interesting pic.twitter.com/TJHlxo2tkv

— 𝖙 𝖉𝖆𝖜𝖌 (@tamiamakay) May 12, 2019

Is James Charles being canceled because of his actions, or because the internet loves drama? It's been nearly a year since Dramageddon tore Beautube apart, exposing multiple YouTubers for their racist tweets. 

Somehow, James' own racist remarks weren't pulled into the whirlwind of cancellation. When he made a transphobic comment earlier in 2019 about how he wasn't "full gay" because he had been attracted to trans men, he received some backlash but got away relatively unscathed. Why is it Tati's video that's tanking his career? 

Maybe it's because the internet is willing to give a pass to its faves, until it's time to grab some popcorn and watch a feud go down. It's good that the internet is finally done with James — the face of the beauty community absolutely should not be a predator. But nobody paid attention or sought to hold him accountable until there was a friendship break up involved. 

The influencers at the center of Dramageddon have more or less recovered from 2018's Beautube culling. Gabriel Zamora continues to make videos. Nikita Dragun was just profiled in Forbes. Manny MUA is still releasing products from his makeup line, Lunar Beauty. Even Laura Lee, whose iconically terrible apology video fueled Twitter memes for weeks, seems fine according to Instagram. 

Will James Charles' cancellation last, or will the internet accept him into the fold again like it did with Jeffree Star? Despite his many controversies, Star is a multimillionaire thriving on top of a massive beauty empire.  

"A lot of most of my career over the last two years has been about me making mistakes and trying to learn and grow from them," James stated in his apology video posted Friday. "And I haven't always done the best job of that. I can admit that, but I have always tried ... I wish I could say this is the last time that I make a mistake, but it won't be." 

And as his beauty vlogger predecessors have proven, he's at least right about that. Will he stay canceled? Hopefully. Will more makeup-centered drama go down in the near future and take down more racist, transphobic predators? God, we hope so. 

WATCH: 'Avengers: Endgame' is the most tweeted-about movie ever

[recklesstreacherous]

Oh my gosh, Rebekah Harkness had such a messy and sad life www(.)nytimes(.)com/1988/05/22/books/is-there-a-chic-way-to-go(.)html?pagewanted=all

Thanks for linking this article! I love reading about her… and yes, she did have a very unique and tragic life. I’d love to watch a documentary about her.

_______________________________________________________________________‘IS THERE A CHIC WAY TO GO?’A week after her death on June 17, 1982, the mortal remains of Rebekah Harkness were toted home by her older daughter Terry in a Gristede’s shopping bag. The ashes were placed in a $250,000 jeweled urn made by Salvador Dali. They didn’t fit: “Just a leg is in there, or maybe half of her head, and an arm,” said one of Rebekah’s friends. Several hours later, the top of the urn - called the Chalice of Life - was somehow, by unknown agencies, uncovered. “Oh, my God,” said a witness. “She’s escaped.”        

This post-mortem mischief was going on at Harkness House, the East 75th Street town house headquarters of the Harkness Ballet Foundation, which Mrs. Harkness had modeled on the St. Petersburg Ballet School. The building, according to Craig Unger, the author of this rich-man/eye-of-the-needle biography, was in a state of putrefaction, “crumbling like Tara after the Civil War.” Meanwhile, in her apartment at the Carlyle Hotel, people who called themselves Rebekah Harkness’s friends were pillaging, “grabbing things right and left.”        

Rebekah’s younger daughter Edith, a failed suicide who had spent many years in mental institutions, took only her mother’s pills: Seconal, Nembutal, Valium, Haldol, Librium and various painkillers - 40 vials in all. Allen Pierce, Rebekah’s son by the first of her four husbands, was unable to be present. Convicted of murder in the second degree, he was behind the bars of a Florida jail. Bobby Scevers, Rebekah’s lover, 25 years younger than she and a self-declared homosexual, pronounced her children “the most worthless, selfish, useless creatures I’ve ever seen.” (Mr. Scevers has a stunning way of placing himself squarely in the center of every sentence he utters; he appears to believe that Rebekah Harkness’s death happened more to him than to her.) If I report on the demise of the multimillionaire patron of the dance dry-eyed, it is because I am confident in the belief that nothing we say about the dead can prejudice the Defense or tip the Scales of Judgment. I myself wouldn’t give the time of day to anyone who cleaned her pool out with Dom Perignon, put mineral oil in the punch at her sister’s debutante ball and (all in the middle of the Great Depression) got tossed off an ocean liner for shouting obscenities, throwing dinner plates at an orchestra of Filipinos gamely playing the American national anthem, and offending the sensibilities of her fellow passengers by swimming nude - for which actions she counted herself witty. (I do admit, however, that I’d go a long way to read a sentence like this, spoken by Bertrand Castelli, the co-producer of “Hair,” about the time he made love to Rebekah Harkness in her office: “It was as if we were two camels in the desert who suddenly know that the only way to make an oasis is to really talk sense.” After his brief interlude in the oasis, Mr. Castelli was made the artistic director of the Harkness Ballet. “Kiss me,” she commanded. “The others, they just know how to bite.”) Craig Unger, a former editor at New York magazine, appears to be dazzled by all this, although it is sometimes hard to tell whether his breathlessness arises from approval, disapproval, sadness, awe or simple bewilderment. Mr. Unger, who records interviews uncritically and unreflectively, does not permit us to know exactly how he feels about his subject.        

Rebekah Harkness was born in 1915 to a rich, emotionally frigid St. Louis family. She was brought up by a nanny who was chosen because she had worked in an insane asylum. She went to Fermata, a South Carolina finishing school that had sheltered Roosevelts, Biddles and Auchinclosses. There she delighted, as she wrote in her scrapbook, in setting out to “do everything bad.’'  After her divorce from W. Dickson Pierce, an upper-class advertising photographer, she chose for her second husband the Standard Oil heir William Hale Harkness, who enjoyed a lofty social status, as her own family did not. He appears to have been an embarrassing sort of man; he wrote and privately published a book called ’'Totem and Topees,” which he described as a “conglomeration of uninteresting misinformation,” and followed that with a book called “Ho hum, the Fisherman,” which, he said, did not “have the excuse even of literary merit.” We are told by Mr. Unger - who is an uncomfortable stranger in the world of the rich, unused to deciphering nuances of caste - that the Harknesses’ seven-year marriage was a happy one. Little evidence is given in support of this thesis except that the two wrote a song together called “Giggling With My Feet.”        

After she was widowed, Mrs. Harkness renovated her Rhode Island house; she installed 8 kitchens and 21 baths. This arrangement effectively kept her from having to see her three children on anything like a regular basis. She had a salon of sorts. She traveled a lot.        

She fancied herself a composer.        

She acquired a guru, also a yogi.        

She married again. And again.        

She was surrounded by a group her son Allen described as “all the fairies flying off the floor, the blackmailing lawyers, the weirdos, the people in the trances.” “We were the favorites,” says a dancer. “We were the loved ones.” In 1961, Rebekah Harkness became the sponsor of the late Robert Joffrey’s small ballet troupe. She did this in grand - if occasionally Marie Antoinette-ish -style. Generous, wasteful, willful, demanding and delusional, she broke with Joffrey to form the Harkness Ballet when he refused to perform the compositions she insisted on writing. In the eyes of many, she had betrayed him. “Costumes, sets, musical scores,” Mr. Unger writes, “many of the best dancers, the entire repertory - even the works choreographed by Joffrey himself - were owned by her foundation.”        

“You see,” she said. “Money can buy anything.” It bought her the services of George Skibine, Marjorie Tallchief, Alvin Ailey, Erik Bruhn and Andy Warhol, but it did not guarantee her success. Mr. Unger tells us that under the direction of the dancer-choreographer Larry Rhodes the company began to garner critical raves - whereupon Mrs. Harkness fired him. Soon Clive Barnes was writing that the Harkness Ballet had “descended beyond the necessity of serious consideration,” and in 1975 it folded. She had spent the 1987 equivalent of $38 million on a failed enterprise.        She rang J. D. Salinger’s bell dressed as a cleaning lady, having conceived the harebrained scheme that the reclusive writer’s short stories be put to music.        

She dyed chocolate mousse blue. She dyed a cat green.        

She moved hundreds of thousands of dollars from one bank to another for the pleasure of confusing her accountants. She believed in reincarnation. She filled her fish tank with goldfish and Scotch.        

Her daughter Terry gave birth to a severely retarded and disabled child. For a time, Rebekah Harkness appeared to be enamored of the passive child, called Angel. Her passion, such as it was, burned itself out quickly, coincidentally with the baby’s pulling a ribbon out of her hair. Bobby Scevers, Mr. Unger writes, “had no sympathy” for the child. “So absurd,” Mr. Scevers pronounced. “When they started talking about putting the nursery over my room … I just hit the ceiling. I don’t want this screaming baby over my room! … Let the little creature die!” When she was 10 years old, she did.        

Her daughter Edith jumped off roofs, swallowed pills and managed not to kill herself. “How should she do it?” Rebekah Harkness asked. “Is there a chic way to go?”        

She lived on champagne and injections - Vitamin B, testosterone, painkillers - as a result of which her bathrooms were splattered with blood and her muscles calcified. (“She walked,” an acquaintance said, “like Frankenstein.”) One could almost feel sorry for her.        

At the very end, according to Bobby Scevers, as she lay dying of cancer, “It was complete chaos… . It was so wonderful - everybody running around signing wills and trying on different wigs.”      

Her daughter Terry hired Roy Cohn in a (failed) attempt to have her will invalidated.        

Her daughter Edith killed herself. (“I’m glad Edith is gone,” said the unquenchable Bobby Scevers.        

“I can’t believe it took her this long to succeed.”) Her son Allen says the years he spent in prison were the happiest of his life. He likes to talk about blowing people away.       Knowing all this (and much, much more; Mr. Unger withholds no ugly or racy detail), what is it exactly that we have learned?        That money can’t buy happiness? That even the rich must die? These are facts of which we have already been apprised.      

One sometimes wonders if the point of all these poor-little-rich-girl/boy biographies is to lull the rest of us into a false sense of security: She is so unlike us that we are not encouraged to reflect upon our own mortality, the contemplation of which is a healthy and necessary exercise. We are meant to take comfort and a measure of relief from our difference - though, as we know but do not frequently wish to remember, the grave awaits us all.        

It would be interesting to see what a social historian, someone familiar with the hierarchies of caste and class in America - or, better yet, a novelist with a theological bent - would make of the raw material Mr. Unger has gathered. I am beginning to think that biography, especially the biography of such a chaotic personality as Rebekah Harkness, needs to be molded and informed by a novelist’s ordering imagination. It might also have been interesting to see how a feminist writer would have assimilated the facts of Rebekah Harkness’s sorry life. Might Mrs. Harkness be seen as a casualty of her own doomed and defiled expectations? Unfit for mothering, unfit for ordinary love, unfit - untrained - to be the caretaker of a great fortune, was she altogether silly or altogether bad? Was she power or pawn? And how in the world did she get that way?        

It is possible to write an edifying biography about an unedifying life. Jean Stein and George Plimpton did that brilliantly in “Edie,” the biography of poor Edie Sedgwick. “Blue Blood” is edifying only insofar as it raises questions about what a biography should be. A terrible story is told here. It makes no sense - and no sense is made of it.        

[247krp]

— Rejoice, little lambs! We have recovered our own Lalisa Manoban, spotted prancing about in the Southeast Side. I don’t remember seeing her with any clique back in high school, but I’m not here to spill yesterday’s tea. So straight to the rundown: can you say hot-tempered and determined? Apparently now she spends time as a detective, and keeps skeletons buried at Macheon Hill Community, 101. But those won’t stay hidden for long, if you and I have any say on it. Welcome back, Princess Shamu; we missed you so.

In case you don’t remember the devil’s name, here’s to refresh your memory:

Fat. Very Fat and Unpopular. She might as well have been one of the Nobodies…. even so, she wasn’t good enough. All through High School she was teased by how big she was. Short term friends would tell her she had so much potential if only she would lose some weight. But the truth is she loved food. She was a fatty and she knew that, so she didn’t let it bother her too much. Regarding her courses she was practically a genius. Best of the herd. She would often be selected for mathematics, science or language competitions. It was true, she was gifted, but nobody cared. Except when someone needed tutoring. Then she was useful. Other than that she was practically invisible. That is until Gossip Girl decided to dig into her family. Finding out she was the daughter of a multimillionaire stock broker and a very successful fashion designer / model brought a bunch of attention towards the girl. Suddenly a lot of people wanted to hang out with her, mostly because she they wanted something out of her. The females wanted autographs, purses, clothes, shoes. The males generally wanted to date. They somehow thought that Lalisa Manoban would happily accept the sugar-mama lifestyle. Wrong.

Nevermind the memory lane though, the present is always the ripest fruit:

There was a 180 degree turn in Lalisa’s life. After graduating she set new goals and was completely determined on achieving them. One of those goals was to do something extremely reckless and out of her comfort zone… And so she joined the Police Academy. It was that which helped her become the woman she is today. She wanted something physical and challenging, something she hadn’t experienced before. Enduring the harsh training was hard, however not once did she think of quitting. It was fun, rough and challenging. Her goal? To become a detective and solve crime. Which, in present day, she achieved with hard work and dedication. The days she spent in the Police Academy were the most memorable. She still remembers the first time she was addressed as Officer Manoban. These days she’s known as Detective Manoban a new and improved woman… Oh did I mention she’s 130 pounds lighter?

But we are nothing if not open books – my job is to ensure you get to the best pages:

Born in Thailand abandoned in Korea when she was seven. The last thing she remembers about her parents was them telling her to stay put while they ran to the store for a minute. She still vividly remembers her mother’s face and her teary eyes as her father observed from a distance. Internally she knew what was about to happen, however she waited. It took about three days until someone finally asked her what was wrong. However it was useless since she didn’t understand what they were saying.

It was hard at first but as a kid you’re very resilient and you adapt and you learn. The foster home she was in wasn’t good at all. She witnessed how one of the caretakers physically and sexually abused children by bribing them with toys or money. On her end she stayed as far away as she could from that man as possible. Albeit that wasn’t enough to stay under the radar. One day Lisa caught the man’s eye and just like that she found herself without clothes looking back at a full grown man’s body. It was the most disgusting sight she had ever experienced. As the man drew closer she had lost all will to resist and decided to just accept what was coming. Maybe she deserved it. However thanks to God, and really good friends she made, she was saved. A barrage of foster kids ganged up on the man with full rage determined on ending it all once and for all. The kids fought greatly but still the monster prevailed. That’s when Lisa decided to speak up for the first time in her life.

“It’s okay. You can do it to me.”

Those were the last words the monster ever heard. Intentionally seducing the man, she sat him down, straddled him, kissed him and with extreme anger she sharply rotated his neck. It wasn’t enough to kill him, which is what she was aiming for, but the results were much better than that. The man became paralyzed form the neck down and she doesn’t have to live with the guilt of having to kill someone. I guess it was a win win situation.

Her luck began to change when she was adopted. Just months after the incident, which appeared on the news, a couple came to pick her up. They had tried to have a child for a while now but it just wasn’t working. At age nine she legally became the heiress to a bunch of money. A multi-millionaire step father and a super rich fashion model / designer mother sound like awesome parents. However they adopted more for publicity rather than out of love. The couple was very dysfunctional. They were never home at the same time and if they were it was never with each other but with other people. His father (although more caring) was the strangest, he would often bring home young men which would be roaming the house naked. As if the place belonged to them. It was almost like she didn’t exist. It was worst when she gained weight. Her mother barely even spoke to her then. But as always, books had been her companion. One thing she’s grateful for is her father’s library (and the one he built exclusively for her) and her home school teacher. They were her greatest allies. She decided knowledge would be her best friend and she wouldn’t need anything else besides that.

Home School was fun but it didn’t bring the social benefits an actual school contributes. She was around the age were she would be entering High School and she really wanted to get out and explore the world. Experience love, laughter, mischief and many other things without being alone. That’s when Lisa decided to speak with her Home School teacher and ask her to speak to her parents for her. Her parents couldn’t care less and left the responsibility to her Home School Teacher which became her tutor. Even though she was ahead a few years she decided to just start from the beginning. And honestly it was the worst decision of her life…

Well.. not exactly.

Everything was basically the same as it was at home. She was invisible. No one cared about her, and when they did it was because she smart and they needed help. She made a few acquaintances but those didn’t last long; And that was something she was already used to. Nothing new. Then suddenly, her fifteen minutes of fame arose and everyone claimed they knew her. Everyone was interested in being her friend, everyone wanted a piece of that fortune. Lisa can admit she was very tempted in taking that moment to shine. She wanted to have many friends and not feel so alone anymore. But she knew deep down that it was all fake. She was too smart to let an event like this take over her life. Gossip Girl just wanted to see her crash and burn, an innocent bystander in a lake full of no good junkies, criminal rich kids who are entitled to everything. She wasn’t going to cave into the pressure. She’s been through worse.

And so her fame died down. She went back to being invisible her Senior Year.

Present day Lisa is a detective with a passion for what she does. She LOVES busting the bad guys and solving the cold cases she’s given. Titled ‘The Young Prodigy’ by her coworkers who get jealous of how young she is. After the rigorous Police Academy training she has grown stronger, less fearful and more brazen. She isn’t afraid to speak up anymore and definitely doesn’t like to stay invisible. Everywhere she goes she makes sure she stands out, may it be by her new found beauty or her intelligence, whatever it may be she’s gonna turn heads.

She still visits her father who still brings young men into the house, just doesn’t bother to hide it anymore (not like he did very well in the first place). The bond with her mother has grown ever since she lost weight. They go on shopping sprees together and she gets totally spoiled. She now calls her ‘my little princess’ and pinches her cheeks as if they’ve been that close for a long time. Deep down she knows there’s really no genuineness in her mother’s heart but she’s learn to take advantage of her circumstances over the years. Her mother gets a best friend who she spills all her secrets to and she gets to be rich with her.

It’s really not that bad pretending after all.

[humanoid-lovers]

Not To Be Missed! Harvey Kurtzman was a brilliant cartoonist and satirist. The comics industry's highest honor bears his name. He also, unfortunately, had little financial acumen. Harvey Kurtzman created "Mad" as a comic book and later converted it to a magazine, saving EC Publications from oblivion. Three issues into the magazine era of "Mad", Bill Gaines and Harvey Kurtzman had a bitter falling out. Editors Denis Kitchen and John Lind give various reasons why the one-time friends became bitter enemies. Most of it seems to come down to the fact that Kurtzman wanted a bigger share of "Mad" than Gaines was willing to surrender. Eight years later, Bill Gaines was a multimillionaire and Harvey Kurtzman was not. Go to Amazon

Reissued, Finally I remember seeing the first issue of Trump on display among many other magazines and comic books at a neighborhood Bronx candy store, sixty years ago. It caught my eye somehow. I was able to thumb through it briefly, marveling at the interior graphics, Elder's color illustrations, and the glossy paper. I knew, at the age of eight, that it was a MAD offshoot, and wanted it desperately, but my mother refused to give me the fifty cents needed to buy it, which I understood, because that was an awfully steep price for a magazine in 1956 or '57. I was, nonetheless, bitterly disappointed. I had no success convincing her to let me buy issue #2, either, and I was, again, deeply disappointed. I was somewhat consoled, a few months later, when Humbug appeared, with Kurtzman's characteristically eye-catching, outrageously original covers, and at a far more reasonable cover price of fifteen cents. I bought every issue of Humbug, and rejoiced when it, like Mad, became a full-fledged, twenty five cent magazine. But just a few issues later, Humbug folded. Much later, I saw Kurtzman's Help! in the magazine rack, and thumbed through it, but it just didn't speak to me. Kurtzman seemed to have lost his way, or at least gone in a new direction that alienated me as a reader. Gone, as well, were the stable of familiar, mostly Jewish illustrators, and largely gone, it seemed, was that New York Jewish sensibility that imbued all of Kurtzman's earlier efforts, and that appealed to me even as a boy of eight. I never overcame my regret about being unable to acquire Trump, and hoped for years that one day both issues would be republished. A few years ago, a reissue was announced, but was, for some reason, scotched. I had given up all hope of ever seeing these magazines resurrected, but then accidentally, during a web search, discovered that Kitchen Sink had finally done this, and that all the material for the unpublished third issue was also included. Prior to my purchasing this edition, which I did hastily, I had in fact seen some excerpts from the Trump issues that appeared in a biography of Will Elder, published some years back. The quality of this work was very high indeed, and I was eager to see all of Elder's work for Trump. Go to Amazon

A long wait but well worth it! As one who is fortunate to have both issues of Trump in near mint condition, I have looked forward to this edition to use as a reader's copy. However, this book is more than just a reprint of the original two copies. Denis Kitchen's essays and annotations on the published edition, as well as the supplemental material on the unpublished third issue, make for a fascinating journey into creative process of Harvey and the gang at their creative peak. Go to Amazon

Not to be confused with that other Trump. The title of this book may be confusing to some people. I had to explain to my son that this has nothing to do with the President-Elect, who was just a poor little rich kid when these magazines were first published in 1956-57. I first discovered Harvey Kurtzman through the paperback reprints of his work for Mad. Trump was Harvey's first venture after an acrimonious breakup with Mad publisher Bill Gaines, and arguably his best. It's a shame it only lasted two issues. Kurtzman brought along most of the artists who had worked with him on Mad, including Will Elder, Jack Davis, Al Jaffee and Wally Wood. The artwork is beautifully reproduced, and much of it is in full color. I recommend reading this slowly so that you can savor all the little sight gags that are tucked away in each panel of the artwork. Go to Amazon

Terrific art, great humor. This book provodes a history of Harvey Kurtzman's first attempt to publish his own humor magazine. Originally called X, Trump employed artists from Mad Magazine, giving them an opportunity to do work that was far more impressive in the fill-color format and high-grade reproductions used in the new magazine. Unfortunately for Kurtzman the cost of Trump was too high, even with Playboy magazine footing the bill. Too far ahead of its time, Trump only published two issues. The book includes the two full issues which went to press, as well as artwork from pieces planned out for #3. Go to Amazon

SHOULD NOT EVEN BE ON THE MARKET FOR SALE! Unpublished material makes this special Four Stars Five Stars Five Stars Five Stars Kurtzman & Co. at their best. Five Stars Aces. Total ACES! So beautiful, it's not funny.

[humanoid-lovers]

Not To Be Missed! Harvey Kurtzman was a brilliant cartoonist and satirist. The comics industry's highest honor bears his name. He also, unfortunately, had little financial acumen. Harvey Kurtzman created "Mad" as a comic book and later converted it to a magazine, saving EC Publications from oblivion. Three issues into the magazine era of "Mad", Bill Gaines and Harvey Kurtzman had a bitter falling out. Editors Denis Kitchen and John Lind give various reasons why the one-time friends became bitter enemies. Most of it seems to come down to the fact that Kurtzman wanted a bigger share of "Mad" than Gaines was willing to surrender. Eight years later, Bill Gaines was a multimillionaire and Harvey Kurtzman was not. Go to Amazon

Reissued, Finally I remember seeing the first issue of Trump on display among many other magazines and comic books at a neighborhood Bronx candy store, sixty years ago. It caught my eye somehow. I was able to thumb through it briefly, marveling at the interior graphics, Elder's color illustrations, and the glossy paper. I knew, at the age of eight, that it was a MAD offshoot, and wanted it desperately, but my mother refused to give me the fifty cents needed to buy it, which I understood, because that was an awfully steep price for a magazine in 1956 or '57. I was, nonetheless, bitterly disappointed. I had no success convincing her to let me buy issue #2, either, and I was, again, deeply disappointed. I was somewhat consoled, a few months later, when Humbug appeared, with Kurtzman's characteristically eye-catching, outrageously original covers, and at a far more reasonable cover price of fifteen cents. I bought every issue of Humbug, and rejoiced when it, like Mad, became a full-fledged, twenty five cent magazine. But just a few issues later, Humbug folded. Much later, I saw Kurtzman's Help! in the magazine rack, and thumbed through it, but it just didn't speak to me. Kurtzman seemed to have lost his way, or at least gone in a new direction that alienated me as a reader. Gone, as well, were the stable of familiar, mostly Jewish illustrators, and largely gone, it seemed, was that New York Jewish sensibility that imbued all of Kurtzman's earlier efforts, and that appealed to me even as a boy of eight. I never overcame my regret about being unable to acquire Trump, and hoped for years that one day both issues would be republished. A few years ago, a reissue was announced, but was, for some reason, scotched. I had given up all hope of ever seeing these magazines resurrected, but then accidentally, during a web search, discovered that Kitchen Sink had finally done this, and that all the material for the unpublished third issue was also included. Prior to my purchasing this edition, which I did hastily, I had in fact seen some excerpts from the Trump issues that appeared in a biography of Will Elder, published some years back. The quality of this work was very high indeed, and I was eager to see all of Elder's work for Trump. Go to Amazon

A long wait but well worth it! As one who is fortunate to have both issues of Trump in near mint condition, I have looked forward to this edition to use as a reader's copy. However, this book is more than just a reprint of the original two copies. Denis Kitchen's essays and annotations on the published edition, as well as the supplemental material on the unpublished third issue, make for a fascinating journey into creative process of Harvey and the gang at their creative peak. Go to Amazon

Kurtzman & Co. at their best. Five Stars Aces. Total ACES! So beautiful, it's not funny. Great Book for the EC and Harvey Kurtzman fan Terrific. Wonderful! TRUMP: WORTH THE WAIT Kurtzman exceeded Hefner's unlimited budget to give us this. Not to be confused with that other Trump.