#Dollar Tree Mother’s Day Gift

[thekissofaphrodite]

I Grew this for you, Ives.

Luke Castellan X Daughter of Demeter! Reader

Summary: Your secret meetup with your boyfriend, Luke, might have been interrupted by Percy Jackson.

Warnings: MakeUp...MAKEOUT- I MEAN. Language (Tell me if i missed one!)

Author's note: It might be kinda weird that the title doesn't match the summary but trust me, it's worth reading. + If you saw a fic from another blog the same as this i requested it and decided i wanna make the fic myself.

___

New kid, New responsibility. You were known as being motherly towards every kid that stepped in Camp Half Blood. And Maybe, Just maybe, Percy Jackson considered you as his Camp Mom, It wasn't new for older campers seeing a new 12 year old boy follow you around and look up at you with big puppy eyes along with Grover's confused look, but oh well.

Ever since your Godly Mother, Demeter has claimed you, Luke has called you Ives since then. It all happened when three years ago, you ended up in Camp Half blood after your mortal father has been killed by a chimera, much to his sacrifice, You might have offered some small offerings to your Brother In Law, Hades, to watch him in the underworld. Your first week into camp half-blood, Chiron had announced that Capture the Flag will be the first game for the day, you were teamed up with the reds (Much to your disappointment) you were near the cabin fire when two boys from the blue team had cornered you (One of them was luke) you raised you hands to cover yourself but then, Two ivy vines sprouted out the soil and blocked them, horror washed over you when one of the vines that you 'accidentally' summoned strangled one of the boys, Luke was able to escape and still..Blue team one.

While they were celebrating, The red team started ranting angrily about how you made them lose, You sat in a corner, your head leaned against an oak tree as you sobbed, then, a bright greenish-yellow light appeared with gold sickle with a few sheaths of wheat above your head, No one was there, not until a group of campers saw you, they ran and moments later, almost dozens of campers were in front of you, including chiron.

"All Hail Y/n Y/L/N, Daughter of Demeter"

Bunch of flowers started sprouting near you, The forest and plants looked much more healthier in your eyes as every one knelt down, Including Luke, Who gave you a mischievous wink.

"....And this is the mess hall, You're always designated to sit with your cabin mates but that depends, most unclaimed kids just sit with their friends" You said, Glancing at Percy, The young boy just nodded shyly and coughed,trying to hide his blushing cheeks.

"Looks like someone has a crush on you" Luke appeared behind you with a grin, Percy's eyes immediately went wide, making you chuckle.

"Crushes don't hurt, it's admiration afterall" You whispered before giving percy a light kiss on his cheeks, leaving luke shocked.

One of you halfsiblings, Althea, called you over. Apparently, another one of your half sibling's EX boyfriend from the Dionysus cabin used a lard grapevine to ruin the bathroom door inside the cabin while you sibling is showering out of rage and jealousy.

Now, As head of your cabin, It's either you spent one whole hour being lectured by Mr. D out of his favoritism or...Plead with one of the Hephaestus kids to fix it for you.

What a day.

Giving Luke and Percy one last smile, You left.

__

"C'mon Felix! This is the only time that i've asked for a favour out of all the favours i've done for you, You'd do it for me" You pleaded as you followed him back and forth inside his cabin's workshop.

"Look, Y/n, I love you as my friend, but i can't do it, not right now"

"What if i give you a 25$ gift card from burger king and......" You scouried your pocket hoping to find something, Your eyes lit up as you felt a bill in your palms "50 dollars...and...." You then went to pat your bra and pulled out a coin. "A Peso"

You then placed it in his soily hands, Felix's face remained calm, he then took the money.

"It's warm..." He said kinda horrified...You pulled the peso out of your bra for the gods sake!

"Take it or leave it."

He then rolled his eyes and grabbed his toolbox.

"Lead the way"

You squealed and hugged him before pulling him to your cabin.

As you watched him repair the door in silence, Felix broke the silencce by purposely dropping a hammer to the ground, the loud clattering sound made you flinch a little, he smirked "Thinking about Luke?"

You snorted, as if tho you weren't actually thinking about him, "No, i'm thinking about Percy"

"The new kid who broke Clarisse's spear? he's badass"

"mhm, Son of Poseidon"

"Speaking of, How's Luke?"

There was a moment of silence before you replied.

"Fine"

"Just 'fine' ? No ungodly things happening?"

"No" You could've bursted out laughing.

"I don't believe you, C'mon tell me some elaborate details"

You raised your brow, a mischievous glint appearing in your eyes.

"Actually, if you finished that, i'll tell you"

The Hephaestus boy huffed and went back to work

After an hour, Felix finished repairing the door and bid you a goodbye (Along with a side-eye)

__

It was now 11 pm, the Campfire sing-along ended almost an hour ago, and you were in your cabin, re-arranging your stuffed toys for the 5th time, (Making one plushie lay beside you will cause chaos among the plushies)

"Carrie..You go here and..Princess should be right....here, Done!"

All of your plushies were in order when you heard a knock from the window near your bunkbed. then, you saw luke, still in his usual camp shirt, unlike you who was in your rather inappropriate pajamas.

His eyes first landed on you, he then grinned before groaning and landing on your soft bunk bed.

"Hey ives-"

"Luke, what're you doing here?!" You hissed, afraid that your half siblings might caught you two.

"Can i not see you?"

"You can, but not at this time" You huffed, But he was still grinning before pulling a flower pot, with a rose.

"I grew this for you, Ives" He whispered, His eyes carefully scanning you expression before you chuckled.

"You know i can grow this in seconds?"

"Mhm, But still, I love you 'till the very last rose in this entire world wilt into ash"

A smile graced upon your lips before luke grabbed your cheeks and kissed you, the flowerpot fell into your bed, the soil staining your new bedsheet, You couldn't care less.

You deepened the kiss by pulling Luke by his neck, and a groan escaped his lips, his calloused hands then slowly went up your shorts making you moan a little, His hands became closer and closer and closer until-

"Luke?"

You two pulled away, Luke's hands were still in your inner thighs, he took a peak into your window and saw Percy, in his cute pajamas with messy blonde hair.

"Percy" Luke breathed.

"What's up?"

"The Apollo cabin seemed to be having a party, the noise is too loud and i can't sleep, i was wondering if you could go see it "

You then peaked into your window, your cheeks were pressed against luke's

"Y/n? Wait..what are you guys doing? and...why are you in her window?" Percy asked, his drowsiness seemed to have vanished.

Luke couldn't even answer percy himself, he started chuckling softly before burying his face into your neck and smothered it with kisses.

Percy then stood still before realizing, he cleared his throat, but before he could leave you called him.

"You know what? I think Luke could actually take a look at those Sun Brats" Luke immediately groaned and looked at you.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. Go help the poor boy"

"Yes Ma'am"

He then got up and just as he was about to climb down your bunk bed you stopped him.

"Nah uh, You can leave where you entered"

The dark haired boy chuckled, and and started climbing down the window, before he could jump back to the ground you kissed him one last time, But this time, the kiss was much more passionate. You could've sworn percy made a gagging face before turning around.

"I love you Ives"

" 'Till the very last rose in this entire world wilt into ash" You said, Luke's eyes soften.

You watched as he and Percy went to the Apollo cabin to resolve the chaos.

The flower potted rose sat in your bed, You took it, and glanced at the beautiful red beauty, You sniffed the fragrance before placing it near your window as you felt Hypnos' warm palm caressing you to sleep.

__

The next day, The first thing you did was bang into Felix's cabin, Giving him every detail from last night as Luke, along with percy watched you from afar.

A/N:

Hey Guys! I've been gone for too long and i just watched the new PJO series and i have to be honest, I fell in love with Charlie as Luke so here's a little treat for you guys while i finish my other fics, i do hope you guys like it!

[systemadministratorclu]

Y'all, I just HAD to share this, because holy shit.

A little background first:

I run the drive-thru cash register window at a fast food joint. One of the shittiest jobs there is because some of the rudest/stupidest people on the planet come through the drive-thru, and one must have near superhuman patience to deal with it. That said, there are customers who come regularly and are not hard to deal with at all. And then there are some-very few and far between-that restore your faith in humanity a little every time they come.

This is about one such customer.

This guy comes every day at about the same time with his grandson (6 years old when this started, recently turned 7) and gets the exact same thing every time. To the point where now either I see their car or I hear the guy say his name (whichever happens first) and I'm already ringing them up. Because of this, the kid now thinks I have weirdly specific psychic powers, and has said he prefers coming to the place when I'm there. He's also decided I'm the best employee this place has. The granddad talks to me like I'm a human, they're always smiling and happy to see me (which means a lot in this line of work, let me tell you) and even on my shittiest days, they've managed to make me smile. I genuinely look forward to seeing these people every day.

Recently, grandson was hella excited to tell me he had a birthday coming up. Reminded me every day "my birthday's coming!" as most 6yo kids do.

Maybe I was feeling a little holiday spirit or something, but one day after work, I went to the Dollar Tree near the restaurant. I picked out a kid's birthday card and a Christmas card. I wrote a message in the Christmas one about what I just explained above, thanking them for bringing some joy to my days, because y'know what? People need to hear that shit. Especially in today's world. And I wanted them to know how much this meant to me. I wrote a little joke in the birthday card about not forgetting the day. Then I looked in my wallet, saw I had a $10 and a $1, and stuck the $10 in the birthday card. Addressed the birthday card to the kid and the Christmas one to kid and grandpa. I give the cards to them on their normal drive-thru visit. They are of course surprised (kid starts yelling "thank you" even though he hasn't gotten to open it yet) but thankful. Then the line moves on.

Fast forward to today.

I see the car come in but I don't start ringing the order up, because it's WAY early for them. I give my usual greeting, then I hear a woman's voice, so I think it's someone in the same kind of car. But when she asks "is this Hal?" I then realize it's the kid's mother, whom he has told all about me and who has come through with him before.

I say yes, and she tells me she's not here to order anything, just to see me, since kid and granddad are sick. I tell her to come on to the window, she does, and hands me a card and a nicely wrapped gift. I asked her to tell them hi for me, she said she would and then the line moved.

I got off on lunch break and opened card and gift.

I was not prepared. At all.

This is the gift...

...the card (no writing on the front).....

.....and the typed note inside the card that actually brought tears to my eyes.

......I'm still not over this. I will be thinking about how this went on for OVER HALF A FUCKING YEAR and I had no idea.

This is the kind of stuff that makes this shitty job worth it. People like this....We need more of in this world. I'm going to hold onto that note so when I feel like shit or I don't matter, I can look at it and know there's a kid out there who I am so important to that he got his dad to write a whole-ass letter, to some random stranger he only knows through his son, inviting me to their fucking house. I'm tearing up again as I write this, just thinking about it.

If that doesn't say "you matter", idk what does.

(And yes, I will go at some point, because how can I not? I'm not gonna dash this kid's hopes and make myself look like an enormous asshole. This is the RL version of being handed a toy phone and told it's ringing)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling my mom to either get me what I've asked for, or to just get me gift cards?

This probably makes me sound horrible and ungrateful, but this is an issue I've had for about the last ten years of my life. I love my mother dearly, and I am so insanely grateful that we are in a financial position where we can receive gifts at all. I'd genuinely be happy with just a card and a cozy day in, but my mom always insists it isn't Christmas without at least one or two things under the tree.

I always ask her routinely as we inch toward the later months of the year what she'd like, and I do my best to get her exactly what she wants. I'll get her one or two other things too, like some skincare or chocolates or shoes or something, but I always stick to what she actually asks for.

If she asks me for a specific dress, she'll get it. If she asks me for a certain type of perfume, she'll get it.

The same....Cannot be said for her.

I've begged her over the years to just stick to getting me what I ask for. I don't ask for anything expensive. I think the most expensive thing I've ever asked for were concert tickets, and I offered to pay half. I just more or less wanted help actually getting them, because as we all know, concert tickets sell so fast its like you blink and they're gone, and the more people you have trying to get them the more chances of success.

Usually I'll ask for something like a particular poster I saw online, or a bedding set, a new phone case, ect. Small, easy to get things because honestly, I don't need that much.

What I actually end up with is a bunch of random stuff I will never use and clothing I'd never wear and once or twice, tickets to do things I hate doing.

Its like she asks me what I want then goes out of her way to get me the exact opposite of what I've asked for. She always pouts at me and berates me for 'looking disappointed' or never using anything she gets me (I hold onto it for a few months then quietly give it away to a friend or thrift store).

It makes me feel guilty, but this is a conversation we have every. Single. Christmas.

(For example I'll ask for, say, a pair of white shoes. What I'll actually get is a box of wind up toys from the dollar store, expensive paint brushes when I've never touched paint in my life, and a box of chocolates from a brand I don't like.)

This year, once again, she asked me for my list, and I just gave her some stores and told her I'd like gift cards to those places. She gave me a weird look and dropped it, but asked again a few times, and each time I just reiterated what stores I wanted gift cards to.

Well lo behold, I come home from college and there's packages under the tree. Proper packages, not just envelopes or anything else that a gift card would realistically be in.

I guess I was staring at the tree with a weird/sour expression, because it wound up starting an argument between us. Her argument was she's getting me gifts, I should be grateful, and she tries really hard but I'm just 'impossible to please.'

My argument is I tell her repeatedly exactly what I want and not once have I ever gotten what's actually on my list. In which case, why the fuck should I bother writing a list? I'd rather have the gift cards so I can buy exactly what I wanted in the first place.

She said I ask for clothes, I get clothes. I said I ask for specific clothes and she gets me ones that I wouldn't even look at in the store, let alone buy.

The whole argument ended up with her calling me an ungrateful asshole and confiscating my gifts to return them all after the New Year. She told me I can just have the money from returning them and 'be fucking happy for once.'

Its Christmas Eve and she's still not speaking to me. I feel terrible, but I'm also relieved. Either this means from now on she won't get me anything, or from now on if she asks for my list she'll actually get me what's on it.

My dad is staying in the middle. He said I'm right, and over the years he's tried to convince her not to buy all that stuff, but he also said I should've just done what I always do, fake a smile, and get rid of it later.

Is he right or was this fight a blessing in disguise? Am I the asshole for ruining Christmas or am I justified in voicing what I have for the last ten years running?

What are these acronyms?

[secretsandwritinggs]

Cobra Kai characters on Mother’s Day 💐

Miguel Diaz - he would so give his mother chocolate, flowers, and a meaningful note (or card) thanking her for everything she’s ever done for him in his life. the note is about three pages long with the front and back covered with his writing.

(she definitely cried for hours after reading his note and keeps it close to her like she does with every note he makes for mother’s day.🥲)

Robby Keene - he would be tempted on visiting her in rehab but wouldn’t know what to get her so he gives her a card from the clearance section of Dollar Tree with his named signed on it OR he would go to up to Sam and ask her what he should give his mother surprisingly she also suggests that he gets a card for her.

Anthony and Sam LaRusso - they would be giving their mother a card, chocolate, flowers and also a spa day away from them (and their father but knowing her, she would take the day with him also). Amanda isn’t sure of the whole spa day but they said she could bring Carmen if she wanted to so off she went with Carmen and Rosa 💗

Tory Nichols - she makes her a card and was gifted flowers by Sam which took her by surprise and so she was tempted to throw them away but didn’t do it once she learned what the intentions were. Sam gave Tory the flowers for HER and her mother also some chocolate for her.

Kenny and Shawn Payne - they give their mother a cheesy mug and card because they spent two days coming up with what they should give her.

— [ Twitter thread | TikTok post ] —

[sasukimimochi]

🥥🏝🌤 - My own prompt ❤✨ (for filling some space)

Travelerji/Merxian AU See the first four prompts here.

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The Taste of Home

Lan Wangji quietly scraped flesh from the coconuts he’d gathered, every now and then glancing out at the sea with a forlorn sigh. It’d been many days now since his supposed ‘bad luck’ began. He decided to stay put for a while, gathering supplies, repairing his ship…cloud watching.

He leaned back against the palm tree he ate under, watching the clouds shift and looking for pictures through the leaves. He could see fish, occasional birds, and other random shapes he couldn’t quite lay his fingers on.

He paused after bringing a piece of coconut to his mouth, the taste bringing memories of something from his childhood. 

His mother used to make dragon’s beard candy, filled with peanuts and coconut, and it was so impossibly sweet but oh how he loved it.

It was such a strenuous task too; he couldn’t help with his smaller arms, and since his father was away a lot of the time, just the three of them did it together- him, his brother, and his mother. It was much too hard for the twins, so really it was all her…but it still felt like they did it together.

He could remember his mother’s laughter, how he acted so aloof and embarrassed with her affections but how much he really looked forward to their time together. His mother brought them so much joy, and then when she never came back, why did his father have to go, too?

Lan Wangji sighed and laid his arm over his eyes, blocking out the sun. Well, that’s what he convinced himself it was for, as something salty fell down his cheeks.

Splash!

Lan Wangji startled upright and uncovered his eyes, watching as something blue and black disappeared into the depths of the ocean. What was that? He jumped up, fully intent on running after it at first, but then paused as he saw sand dollars, sea shells, and pearls.

He looked back out to the sea, wondering if he could find the mysterious being, but upon seeing nothing lingering anymore he instead knelt down to see what had been left on the shore. He couldn’t help but continue to cry, but at least now it was in relief.

He knelt in the sand, and one by one collected the gifts on the shore.

Gifts.

They’re gifts. 

Lan Wangji smiled subtly and carefully placed each trinket into his carrying pouch, each little item a priceless treasure. He sniffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his wrist, doing his best to collect himself, although it took some time.

Wei Wuxian smiled tiredly, settling into the sand on the ocean floor to watch the traveler scavenge for his gifts.

Check out other MDZS Projects on my masterpost! ❤

Merji/Travelerji WIP Wangxian Prompt 1 WIP Merxian sketch / Merxian 1 (nudity & wips included) Merxian 2 (sfw) Merxian 3 (B&W) Wangxian Prompt 1 cont. sketch

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I created these two mermay au's for mermay prompts i'm writing. (check back to the prompt list for updates)

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Only the Strong Survive Ch. 4

Series Summary: Lexie Weston is in a terrible, abusive marriage. In her mind and soul, she feels like she has no way out that won't result in her death. But something changes in her life to make her take the risk. Can she rely on Sheriff Beau Arlen to protect her like he said he would, or will this risk lead to ruin?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N (eventual)

Series Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut, Angst, Fluff throughout. A pretty slow burn, TW: Abusive marriage, Domestic abuse will be talked about throughout. Chapter warnings will be more specific

Word Count: 3,027

Chapter Summary: Beau comes to visit Lexi with some tough news, and a gift.

Chapter Warnings: TW: Domestic abuse mentioned, fear and anxiety due to abuse talked about throughout the chapter. Angst, sadness. Discussion of pregnancy, fetuses, and newborns. Bit of pining happening. Also Beau being the best and sweetest. That's definitely a warning!

A/N: So this will be my first Beau series. I already have 8,000 series on the go, so I thought, of course, that I had to make 8001. 😄 But this idea's been sitting in my head for a while so here it is. 😁 I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know if you do. Feedback is EVERYTHING to a writer, and I'd sure love to read what you thought.

Hope you enjoy Ch. 4!

The beautiful divider at the bottom was created by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag Lists

Beau walked through the glass doors into the quiet lounge area of Haven House. It was made to look a little like a doctor’s office, which is what they would tell anyone who came through the doors and asked. From the outside the general public only saw a nondescript building hidden behind a large yard of trees, and if they happened to venture inside, they were told it was a private doctor’s clinic, and that they weren’t taking patients.

But Beau knew different, of course. Law enforcement across the county knew about Haven House, and had made use of its services on more than one occasion.

He approached the desk that was situated behind what he knew to be bullet-proof glass. He knew because he’d helped them install it earlier that year. The state’s budget for Haven House wasn’t lavish, and he knew Sarah stretched those few dollars as far as she could, spending the vast majority of it on the well-being of the women and children who were being housed there. Most of the staff were volunteers, and the offices and staff areas were pretty shabby and in bad need of repair. 

So a few months ago, he’d taken a week of evenings to do what he could in fixing it up. He’d insisted that they switch out the old plexiglass window for a bullet-proof version, considering the kind of violent person that could come strolling through. The security in the residence was wonderful, but as usual the staff areas weren’t as well cared for, so Beau had done what he could to change that.

As he approached the window, he smiled at Pat, the elderly lady who ran the administrative side of things at Haven House. She ran a tight ship, and she never cut corners in her diligence to safety, which he appreciated. But she also never cracked a smile or allowed any softness to show in her sternly-lined face.  That is, until a little one was nearby, then her shell cracked and warmth oozed out of her.

She absolutely adored children. And children adored her back.  She was notorious for her ability to soothe a crying baby - even teething babies, even collicky babies! According to the mothers who stayed at Haven House, Pat was simply a wizard, and if she frightened them slightly with her gruffness, they forgave all when she took their screaming babies out of their exhausted arms, and shooed them off to nap.

He smiled at her now, even though he knew she wouldn’t reciprocate, which she didn’t. “Good afternoon, Ms. Patricia. How are you this fine day?”

Pat shrugged.  “Knees hurt.” She answered succinctly.  “Assume you’re here to see 1511?” 

Pat never referred to the women or children by their names, just by their file numbers. It was for safety and anonymity.  

Beau nodded.  “Yes, ma’am.”

Pat silently passed him the log book, so he could sign in and then buzzed him through to the residence. He gave her a little salute in thanks, to which she merely grunted, making him smile.

He walked down the long hallway, twisting and turning around corners, well-versed in how to get around after his many visits - both before and after Lexi came to stay.

When Lexi had first come to Haven House, he’d been to see her everyday for a week straight, mostly because of the interviews and questioning that had to be done. But he’d purposely stretched the interviews out over the week. He’d wanted to conduct short interviews that wouldn’t take too much out of her each day, but also he wanted to reassure her that he hadn’t merely dumped her here and then promptly forgotten about her. He wanted her to know that he still cared about keeping her safe.

But after that first week, he’d slowed down his visits, only stopping in once, maybe twice a week, just to check in. Partly, he hadn’t wanted to monopolize her time as she was adjusting to her new, temporary home…but there were other reasons as well.  

Now it had been over two weeks since he’d seen her last, and almost a month and a half since he’d come to take her away from the nightmare she’d been living.  

He wished he was coming back to see her with better news.

He entered the day room and only Lexi was there.  She sat, reading by the window. Well actually, he realized, she was just quietly staring out the window, holding a book. As he walked closer, she heard him approach and startled, dropping her book onto the ground. 

Slightly embarrassed by her response, she blushed a little as she smiled up at him.  “Sheriff! Sorry, you caught me daydreaming.”

Beau shook his head.  “Please, it’s Beau, remember? And I’m sorry, I should have made more noise as I came in.”

Lexi smiled and shook her head as she stood up, bending to retrieve her book. She set it on the window sill and  went to pour herself a cup of coffee from the long table that held the machine, and rows of chipped porcelain cups, along with powdered milk and sugar. She nodded towards the pot of coffee. 

“Want a cup?”

Beau nodded. “Sure, that’d be great. Just one sugar, please.”

They were quiet as she poured out two cups, and prepared them. Then they moved to sit on one of the worn and slightly frayed blue velour couches.  

Beau took a sip of his coffee and licked his lips.  “How have you been, Lexi?”

She smiled and looked down at her lap, as she answered. “I’ve been okay. Adjusting, you know.  Takes some time.”

She looked up at him and he was happy to see there was excitement in her expression. “My counselor here, her name is Michelle, she’s been really helpful. She’s signed me up for the GED program they run out of here. There are classrooms and everything, so they’re gonna help me to get my diploma.  Or well, the equivalent, I guess.”

She shrugged and looked down at her lap again, subdued, and Beau felt his heart squeeze. He’d noticed that this was something she did often. Anytime she was even a little excited about something, she seemed apologetic afterwards, as though her emotions and happiness were something to be sorry for, something that was annoying. 

He hated that she felt that way. So, he smiled widely and put as much enthusiasm as possible into his voice when he responded.  “Hey, that’s fantastic, Lexi. No way someone as bright as you should be without their diploma. You’re gonna do great.”

He could see two bright spots of pink appear on the apples of her cheeks and it made him smile even brighter. Then he remembered why he was there, and the smile faltered. 

Deciding to put it off for a bit longer, from his left breast pocket he pulled out the little gift he’d brought, a small square parcel, just wrapped up in white tissue paper.

“Here, I saw these and thought of you, so I had to get ‘em for you.” He said as he held out the package towards her.

Lexi’s face was all shock. “Sher-...I mean, Beau…you shouldn’t have.” She said as she took the gift and stared down at it all wrapped up in her hands. “After everything you’ve already done…”

She trailed off, and Beau was slightly dismayed to see that the soft light of the day room glinted off the unshed tears in her wide hazel eyes.  He shook his head.

“No, really it’s nothing that special. Just something I thought might come in handy down the line. And well, the truth is they’re just too adorable, and I was glad I had a reason to buy them.”

When Lexi smiled, slightly confused, he smiled back and waved his hand towards the package. “Open it!” He encouraged.

With a small sniffle, she gently pulled apart the tissue paper in a slightly reverent manner and he started wondering how long it had been since she’d been given a gift. It hurt his heart to think about it.

Finally she pulled the paper back to reveal two tiny little sneakers encased in a clear plastic box. A small gasp sounded from Lexi as she held them up to get a closer look. “Oh my gosh! Look at how little bitty these are!” She gushed.

Beau laughed and nodded. “Right? They were just so friggin’ cute. And they made me remember when we brought Emily home from the hospital; we had an outfit for her to wear that was labeled, ‘newborn’, but she was swimming in it. I’m telling you, they’re even tinier than you can imagine. At least, Em was.”

Lexi was pulling the tiny shoes out of the package and holding them up to her still flat tummy. She looked up at Beau and her face once again held excitement and pleasure. “You know, the doctor said that I was probably about twelve weeks along, so I Googled it, and it says the baby is about the size of a plum, which probably wouldn’t be much bigger than this shoe! She could actually just fit inside the shoe right now!” She said with a wide grin.

It was the first time he’d ever seen her grin with actual humor. Usually, she just gave shy or embarrassed smiles. The grin lit up her face, and her bright hazel green eyes were absolutely beautiful. The sight made him want to put off the real reason for the visit for a little longer.

“She?” He asked. “Did you find out?”

Lexi shook her head. “No, the doctor said she still couldn’t be sure.” She shrugged. “I’m just…guessing.”

Beau wondered whether the “guess” was more of a hope. Maybe the idea of raising a boy all on her own, worried her; he could understand that.  But he didn’t ask, figuring that would be too intrusive a question. So, he just nodded. 

“Ah! Well, you know sugar and spice versus snails and puppy dog tails…I’d hope for a girl too.” He said, chuckling. “We were pretty happy with our little girl. Still am, as a matter of fact.”

Lexi smiled and looked at her lap again before she answered, subdued once again. “She’s incredibly lucky to have you.”

“Thanks, I feel lucky to have her too.”

As he saw her slightly sad smile, Beau had a sudden urge to wrap Lexi up in his arms until the note of melancholy left her voice and the gentle sadness left her face. He had that urge quite often actually. 

Which was one of the reasons he’d slowed down his visits. He was worried that his attachment to Lexi Weston was becoming unprofessional. Actually, he wondered and worried if his immediate need to help her, to keep her safe and protect her, had ever been professional. 

As a cop, he’d had the unpleasant task of dealing with domestic battery cases in the past. He was always willing to go the extra mile to make sure women in those situations were cared for, safe, and free to live out the rest of their lives far from their abusers. But that was where those relationships ended. He got them to safety, he testified in court about his part, and moved on, happy that they’d gotten out.

With Lexi, however, he found that he wanted to keep holding on to her, wanted to shield her every moment. But even beyond that, he found that he wanted to talk to her, exchange stories and discover what made her tick, find out what she liked and what she hated, he wanted to hear her opinions, wanted to make her laugh.

They warned cops during training that sometimes people formed attachments to the cop that saved them; sometimes they’d even believe they were in love with the officer who’d gotten them out of a bad situation, or that had pulled them out of harm’s way. Cops were taught not to encourage this behavior because it was unethical to take advantage of someone’s misplaced feelings after a trauma.

But Beau had begun to wonder if it ever went the other way; was it a natural psychiatric phenomenon for the cop to be drawn to the victim? To want to help them through everything, to want to ease their fear always, to want to make sure nothing ever hurt them again?

And was he a disgusting pig because of his observations the last time he’d come to see her? He’d noticed that she’d started to put on a bit more weight now that she was eating regularly, and healthily - that she was beginning to fill out her figure beautifully. Was that gross behavior? Because he’d definitely noticed, and his libido had definitely noticed too.

It had made Beau want to kick his own ass.

For God’s sake, she was a woman who’d been through extreme trauma, and the last thing in the world she needed was for him to be lusting after her like a creep. But no matter what he told himself, he couldn’t help the attraction. 

But he at least had the good sense to keep all of this to himself; he’d do anything to keep from making Lexi more uncomfortable, scared, and worried. So, he was never going to act on his ridiculous feelings. 

Sitting beside her on the couch now, he realized that he probably shouldn’t be sitting here, relaxing and enjoying her company so much either, and he finally decided it was time for him to get down to the real reason he was there.  

He let out a deep sigh. “So, unfortunately, I’m not only here with adorable baby shoes. I have some…news as well.”

The seriousness on Beau’s face and in his voice was obviously apparent, because Lexi  lost her soft smile and began to twist her hands in her lap and pick at her nails, a habit Beau had caught on to early on - a fairly obvious tell that she was scared and nervous.

“Okay.” She said in a small voice. “What kind of news?”

Beau took a deep breath. “The ‘not great’ kind, I’m afraid.” 

When Lexi’s face showed panic, he held up his hand. “It’s not terrible or anything. It’s just…well, a court date has been set for Simon’s case to be heard. He’s chosen to have the case heard by a judge as opposed to a jury, and we found out late yesterday afternoon which judge has been assigned to the case.”

Lexi chewed on her bottom lip before urging him to continue. “Okay, who’s the judge?”

Beau cleared his throat. “His name is Judge Morrisey. He’s…well, he’s a very conservative judge, with a history of some questionable rulings in domestic cases.”

Lexi’s face was pale, and she wrapped her arms around her waist, hugging herself. Beau continued, spitting the bad news out quickly. Not that there was much good news to take the sting out.

“He tends to side with the defendant in most domestic abuse cases, unless there is very strong, and irrefutable evidence on the side of the prosecution. And unfortunately…” Beau shook his head,”...unfortunately, most of what we have against Simon is just your word against his. There are no corroborating statements other than Cassie and I stating what we saw when you came to the station that day. But that can all be explained away pretty easily by his lawyer.  There are no records of hospital visits or previous police reports.”

Lexi burst in, her voice hoarse and rough. “I was scared he’d kill me if I went to the police.  And he never let me go to the hospital after. He broke my wrist once and just set it with some sticks he found in the woods around our house.”

She shook her head as though she couldn’t believe the injustice Beau was explaining to her. He nodded; he couldn’t really understand it either. 

He tried to reassure her. “We know, darlin’. And of course we all believe you completely, and we’re gonna fight hard to make sure he’s put away for a long time. The prosecutor for your case is a woman named Marsha Langdon and she’s a badass, and an amazing lawyer. She’s gonna give it everything she’s got.”

Lexi looked at him and the terror in her big eyes seemed to swallow up her whole face. Knowing that he shouldn’t do it, Beau moved closer to her on the couch and wrapped his arms around her. She immediately melted into him and he could feel her tears soak through the cream colored button down shirt he wore.

“I swore to you that I’d keep you safe, Lexi, and I’m not going to break that promise, no matter what, whatever it takes.” 

He realized that sounded pretty nefarious, and trying to assure himself that he hadn’t been talking about breaking the law, he continued quickly, detailing the perfectly legal means they were going to use to keep her safe.

“Marsha wants to come meet with you a few times before the first court date, which is a couple weeks from now. She wants to go over your testimony and prepare you for questioning from his lawyer and the judge.”

He squeezed her against him tightly and pressed his lips against the crown of her head. He tried to convince himself that it was no less than he would do for anyone who was crying and scared, but the feeling in his heart told him otherwise. 

Lexi shuddered once and then spoke in a soft whisper. “Will you be there? In court?”

He was going to tell her that he’d be there to give his testimony, but then he’d be expected to leave. But she pulled back to look at him, and the hope and fear warring on her face made him give a different answer completely.

“Absolutely. Every step.”

Hope won out in her expression and she laid her head back on his shoulder and sighed deeply. “Thank you, Beau.” She said quietly.

Shit, Beau thought with real trepidation, what the hell am I getting myself into?

[lewis-winters]

WIP tag game

thank you for the tags @sir-mr-dr-roe and @heystovepipeboys!

I dug through my WIPs to find a coherent one that didn't have spoilers for the fic itself. But considering how I always write the more exciting parts first, I have failed. Lmao.

Anyway. Here's an excerpt of the Webgott Magical Realism AU.

David Webster is odd. Joe knows this by virtue of having known him for more than a decade, fought with him for the first three years of that, and loved him for the rest.

But he knows it too by the moments where the veneer slips, and something dark, deep, and old peeks beneath. Web doesn’t seem to be aware of it himself, the churning abyss having been a part of him since the very beginning and therefore not uncommon. But to Joe, whose life has never once strayed from the straight and narrow path until that fateful day he chose to jump out of an airplane for 50 extra dollars, the shadow that clings to Web is clear as day.

The first time he saw it, it sat in his periphery. Eight legged and still. Listening, as Web, one warm Austrian night said; “Webster is my mother’s family name.”

People like to assume otherwise, and Web does himself no favors when he rarely corrects them, but that night it pours out of him like water from a broken flask, gushing from the red of his mouth, gaping like a wound with every word he speaks.

Webster, to modern ears, takes a new form. A book of words and meanings, created from a language taken apart and put back together like jigsaw puzzle pieces poured back into its box. No sense as a whole but its pieces complete in their individuality. Always, at the price of their potential for poetry. “That is what boy Websters are like,” David had said. Though some have the potential to become something, carrying within them a small spark that, if properly cultivated amongst the like-minded, could help bring about a decent flame. But those kinds of boy Websters are few and far between, the last having been born centuries ago, and whose gifts had gotten him killed. Most Webster boys are simply broken shards of a whole– special enough to understand how different they are, but too weak to be anything but useless.

It’s the Webster women that are truly different. They’re all that are left of the old name. Ever-changing, like all things are in the face of time, but strong enough to retain their original shape, still. Adaptable. Malleable. Powerful in ways boy Websters could never be. In times of old, Webster had meant spinner. Crafter. A creature with silk in two of her eight hands, a tapestry of deadly traps adorned with beautiful opportunities falling from their lips. Words, endless. Possibilities, even more so.

Anything Webster women say, the earth bends to listen. The trees repeat. The brooks whisper. The sun rejoices. And once finished, the sky opens to weep.

Web didn’t have to continue for Joe to understand, then; the rest of the story unraveled before him as the gravity of Web’s words finally sunk in.

Every child in the world has heard of the existence of these women. Few have been lucky enough to encounter one, but even more so have been unfortunate enough to get caught in the lies they spin, the endless, glistening realities that pour from their mouths. “Beware,” Joe’s mother had once whispered to them in warning. “They are not your enemies, but to be amongst them is dangerous. Their web stretches far beyond their reach and closes around you, invisible, until you are trapped with no means of escape, even after your death.”

Teller of tales, she had called them. Soothsayers, Priestesses of the Mother of Lies—

“Weavers,” David had confirmed, and the tired finality in which he says it cracked something in Joe’s chest he didn’t know was still whole enough to break. “My mother is a weaver.”

--

tagging: @hellofanidea @ep6bastogne @almost-a-class-act @bobparkhurst @sergeant-spoons and anybody else who wants to do it!

[hearttinmyhandd]

escapade

Sitting on a mahogany dresser in my bedroom is a thick layer of dust, and a collection of incense and trinkets I’ve been collecting since I was fifteen. I can never seem to let anything go so long as it has a fraction of sentimental meaning to it– as is the box of incense collecting dust.

I never burn those things anymore. When I was a teenager and still living with my father, late at night I would open all of my bedroom windows, light all the candles I’d collected as Christmas gifts over the years, and light the little cones. My bedroom would fill with the scent of vanilla, driftwood, and something reminiscent of the western Pennsylvanian bonfires my grandma would host when I was a child. Quite often, the little purple box that held them would catch my eye and I would ponder; how nice it would be to light one today. I wonder if they would smell the same.

I never did. Something took hold of my wrists and throat when I began to think, “Just one won’t hurt.” And so I would think to myself, hurt what?

There’s no danger to my well-being from lighting incense. I treated the things as if I were a recovering alcoholic, and they were a fresh bottle of New Amsterdam staring at me from my dresser. But the fear.

This fear I experience, it takes control of my soul whenever I yearn for anything out of the ordinary. I can hear my mother’s voice nagging in the back of my head about the nasty smell of the smoke. If I think I’d like to take a walk after dusk, I hear her untrusting voice asking where I’m going so late at night. When I cry and plead for answers about why the world is so cruel, I see her eyes roll over in disgust and turn back towards the television.

It was a deadly sickness stripping me of my youth, day by day. Tiresome. I was a little porcelain doll sitting on my mother’s living room shelf. A nativity set. If she was the Virgin Mary, I was her sweet little baby Jesus.

A look wouldn’t hurt. I cracked open the aging cardboard box and peered at the little baggies of each scent. I'd long forgotten the scents, but there were cones colored forest green, terracotta, floral magentas and lavender. I examined the crinkling bags and whiffed each one, an intense earthy smell assaulting me like snorting black pepper. Stuffed between two bags I caught a glimpse of something I didn’t recognize. Faded white paper. I picked it up.

A cigarette. One, single little Marlboro cigarette between my fingers. A faded memory of a jaded youth. I recalled a night many years ago at an ex-boyfriend’s house, when a family friend had left behind a full box of cigarettes on the patio table. Little daredevil I was, I suggested we steal the box. Then that fear gripped me, and I reeled back and said we should just steal two cigarettes. At least I did it.

I must have stuffed it in here for safe-keeping. An emergency of some sort in which a cigarette is my only hope. I stuffed the rolled tobacco into the pocket of my jeans, carefully so as to not bend or break it, and grabbed my car keys.

There was this park right on the Indian river, hidden by a six-lane highway. My secret little happy place, though I never came here– the fear, you see.

Past the tall green trees of this park, there was a boardwalk-like path surrounded by a plethora of Florida greenery. It was like walking through a tunnel of leaves and branches. Deafeningly quiet, the slightest sounds could be heard. A rabbit stepping on a fallen branch, squirrels foraging through leaves, birds chittering in between trees– and my heavy footsteps echoing down the walkway.

It took about five minutes to walk this wooden path, and I found myself jumping at every noise from the depths of the woods; peering behind my shoulder as if the fear were chasing me in a physical form. But I would not turn back. I was halfway there.

At the end of the wooden path of this park trail, you were given two options: to sit on a wooden dock facing the river and the million-dollar homes, or to walk through an opening in the fence towards a rocky clearing where you could stand on mossy and barnacle-covered rocks. This clearing was my secret spot. The trees were placed in such a way that one could never see you from the wooden path. You could see nothing, and nobody, except the river and the rocks. Except today, when I finally made it to the end of the path, there was a little black book laying in front of the opening to the clearing.

Lying perfectly on the ground, face up, this book laid staring me in the face. “Cause of Death,” read the title. It was as if someone had carefully placed it there like a booby trap. I felt as if I would pick it up and an anvil would fall from the sky and crack my skull open. It was so ominous I wanted to laugh. 

I stood there staring at the book, looking between the path back to my car, the dock, then back at the book. It was so silly. So, so silly, that the fear had materialized into an eighties-slasher style warning.

I ignored it.

I sat on the dock instead. Not the ideal scenario. I had a vision where I sat on the rocks with my feet above the water, smelling the river breeze out of view from the world. But the dock would do.

I sat and fumbled in my pocket for the single cigarette. I placed it in between my lips, but when I reached into my pocket, my heart sank. The lighter was in the car.

The whole thing at this point was surely a sign. Normally I would have kicked myself and pictured myself screaming, wondering if maybe this was truly ridiculous. A mother knows best, after all. I found myself indifferent today; try as I might, today was not the day. Simple as that. 

Despite my indifference, I ran as fast as I could from the rustling squirrels and my cause of death.

The next day I tried again. Not at the same park, but one a few miles down the road. This park was also along the river and arguably had a better view. But this park was not hidden, and thus was more likely to have people. My vision did not involve anything but me, my cigarette, the water, and the wind. It was meant to be beautiful.

Perhaps a sunny Sunday afternoon was the worst time to enact my vision. When I arrived, the parking spaces were near full and there were families enjoying one of the last days of summer in every corner. Simple as that. I rolled around the parking lot and pulled away.

On the third day, I was awake at eight o’clock for my bi-weekly counseling. I did not tell her about my cigarette escapade, but afterwards I felt an itch worse than ever to let myself go. Meditation is what she suggested. I had just the thing for that.

Like the park, I had a favorite beach where little to no people were ever seen. The beach access looks like a grass plot, not a parking lot, and it was sandwiched between two massive condominium complexes. When I was little, I was stung by a portuguese man o’war here. I should have been weary, but it made the place feel like my own. On the odd occasion there would be a crowd of beachgoers, but today my fingers were crossed.

I took nothing but a towel, water, and of course the point of this all. When I stepped up the boardwalk, I felt the fear try to creep into my veins and replace my imaginary muscle relaxer. It didn’t prevail for long once I peeked over the wooden stairs. No one was here. It was beautiful.

The air was salty and warm, but the breeze flowed through my blood like my lover’s fingers brushing softly against my back. The silence was like a blanket that had just sat in the sun. 

When I got settled onto my towel, I sat back in wonder at the serenity of the morning beach. I suppose I had never been so early. The occasional beach town resident would walk past without sparing a glance. I silently thanked them.

I fumbled with the lighter for a minute, the cigarette comfortable between my lips, but the wind was interfering like a spoiled sibling on your birthday when the cake comes out with the candles lit. Eventually my hands shielded the childish wind for enough time that the paper caught flame. And I sat there.

For a while. For a while I sat there. It was like my imaginary muscle relaxer was real. Imagination cannot even compete with reality. My mind had shut down. For the first time in my life, I had no thoughts. Only the wind playing with my hair and the bitter taste of tobacco in my mouth.

I had my ten minutes of quiet bliss. I spent my time watching the waves crash, pull back, then do it all over again. I laid back and let the wind blow through my ears. I dug my hands into the sand, reveling in the chill of it not having been touched by the sun. My heart beat slowed. I imagined my lover wrapping his warm arms around me and kissing my cheeks. Like a call to a prayer, the sun came forth and warmed my skin. 

And then it was over.

My first thought when coming back to reality: I understand how people get hooked on these things. 

I knew I would not get hooked, and I did not. A part of me thought that something would change after this. Like breaking a glass bottle of holy water. The bottle shatters and something incredible should happen, like God Himself should come down and kiss your forehead as if you’ve freed him of some sort of curse. Instead, the bottle just shatters and water goes everywhere.

I would go on and continue to move about life with the needle of fear pricking away at my back. To this day it haunts me and pulls me away from reality, on the opposite side of the spectrum from the cigarette. I feel it creep into my skin and veins when I light those incense late at night, and when I slip on my shoes to stroll through the suburbs. But no longer does it take hold of my throat.

[katforll313]

Christmas Ornament Catalog

I had a friend over for Thanksgiving and we put up the tree on Black Friday. As we were decorating they kept having to ask us where each ornament went and interpret our frequently contradictory instructions, and my sister said "Ko I thought we had set rules but you've made me realize it is a weirdly specific case-by-case system." It made me think of all of the family stories and tradition and life that goes into the tree.

The Glass Hummingbird

Top of the tree

A gift from Grandmama Denise from the Greenbriar in West Virginia

Glittery Katie Ornament

Mid to low, side or front of the tree

Homemade by Katie in 2004

This is my favorite picture of me as a baby- my eyes look like blueberry colored pits in my head it’s terrifying.

Small White Owl

High on the tree

A gift from Grandma Harriet to Dad

Porcelain Cherub with Gold Accents, one of five

Mid to high on the tree, far from each other

A gift from Grandma Denise to Mom

For a few years there my grandmother would buy these inexpensive angel ornaments and give them to my mother and her sister every single Christmas. Mom sounded fondly annoyed when explaining this.

Glitter Spider Tree Ornament

Mid back of the tree

A gift from Dad to Abbi

It’s because she had a pet fishing spider named Daisy at the time. This is only the second most terrifying pet Abbi ever had placed in her room by my father. The first were the Madagascar hissing cockroaches, which were an actual horror story to have in the home.

Orange Peel Angels, one of a matching set

Mid on the tree, far from each other

Bought by Mom from Ten Thousand Villages, made by artisans in Colombia

These make everything in the box they get stored with smell like oranges to this day.

Wizard of Oz Rainbow Ornament, part of a set of two

Mid of front of the tree

Bought by Mom for Abbi

Nightmare Before Christmas Mayor

Mid to high on the back of the tree

A gift from Mom to Dad

Nightmare before Christmas is my Dad’s favorite Christmas and Halloween movie. One year we were at the Petco and he found chew-toys, like the ones for dogs, that had all of Boogie’s Boys’ faces and one of the Mayor’s and bought them as decor to go up on the mantle.

Silver Wizard

Low front of the tree

Bought by Mom for Abbi and Katie from Pier 1

Wooly Sheep

Bottom side of the tree

Bought by Mom for Abbi and Katie

By far the softest ornament we have. Mom bought it specifically to have ornaments that the cats couldn’t break that she could hang low on the tree.

Acorn, one of a set of five

Anywhere, spread out from one another

A gift from Abbi to Mom from an antique shop in 2021

Abbi's clay angel

Back middle of the tree

Handmade by Aunt Barbara

Purple Spirals

Cover, in any tall empty spots

Bought by Mom from the Cheshire Cat antique store

We went on a shopping trip with her around 2014 after she bought a purple tree skirt and wanted more ornaments to match it.

Dirty Sock Snowman

Bottom back of tree 

Handmade by Grandma Harriet

“Mom, I know you did not just hang that dirty sock lookin’ snowman at the very front of tree like that’s where he belongs.”

“Don't say that about him Grandma Harriet made him for us!”

“Yeah out of the dirty sock off of her own foot!”

Dude-man's sand dollar, one of a set of two

Front low on the tree

A custom made gift from Ms. Laura to Mom from a Crabtree Valley Mall kiosk in 1989.

We have another that looks like my Dad’s old cat Simon that my Mom bought for him a different year.

The Apples

Cover, in any empty colorless or empty spaces

Antiques from Grandma Denise to Mom when she first moved out

The black airplane

Top of the front of the tree

A gift from Grandma Harriet to Dad

Aunt Sharon’s ugly-ass pink bear egg

Mid to bottom back of the tree

Handmade by Aunt Sharon in 1998

This is by far the most hideous ornament we own, undeniably one of the most memorable.

Gold-tipped lute-playing angel

Front, mid on tree

A gift from Grandma Denise (also during her angel kick)

Star square Abbi

Eye-level on the tree

A gift from Aunt Lisa to Mom, photo taken in a shoot from the daycare

Star Plush Santa

Bottom of the tree

A gift from Aunt Kimmy to Mom for Abbi's first Christmas

Bonus:

The Christmas Slug

❗NOT❗ allowed on the tree!

The Best Gift

Under the tree. Always. She’s difficult to reach. Bear please come out we have to put the lights on.

[smallerplaces]

Mer-ily we roll along

Having discovered Mermaid High, of course I went over to browse AliExpress, home to all that's cheap and fascinating.

Then there's these.

While this is not my style (and I just within the past six months sold or donated all of my mother's Jun Planning-type dolls because it's really not my style)... wow. These are seriously impressive. These are mermaids who'll lure you to drown in the deep so they can eat your bones, and you'll thank them for it.

My expectation for Ali Express mermaids was more like these.

The light-up tail makes these fancier than the ones that hit Dollar Tree the minute the mermaid trend took off. These have the face and arms of the cheapest dollar-store fashion dolls.

This gal combines aquatic and aerial transportation.

She has a posse, who come in yellow, blue, and purple.

I'm not sure what's going on here, but it's happening with articulated elbows.

These look like they have glass eyes and rooted lashes (albeit some of the worst lash-rooting I've ever seen). They're kind of cute in a lost-souls way.

Then I got distracted because the same store still does Monster High clones, which also come in mer-form.

This is the Demon High I remember from days of yore! (a.k.a. 2014) The characters are almost recognizable, yet visibly "off," and then we throw in that second gal from the right, who logically must be Draculaura, but looks like some mundane accidentally got transferred in.

Finally, I have to wonder why I haven't seen this one in person anywhere. The price seems to be a little higher, but you get to participate in the "doll with little sister" and "doll with companion animal" trends.

This gal is labeled "blinding singing 1" on the site, which is so on-point that I hesitate to click on another. A closer look at the listing determines that the smaller doll is a ddung doll (Korean-style big head with big round eyes, small mouth; these show up in Asian gift stores), and there is also a sparkly pink life preserver. I'm declaring the pink dolphin to be an Amazon River Dolphin because I loved Invisible City.

If I were going to indulge in any of these -- which I'm not -- it'd be the maroon-haired gal from the line of nine mermaids, as those are on the clone version of the Barbie Fashionista body, plus they seem to have glass eyes.

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Christmas Invoice

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC (Eliza, no mention of specific race/looks)

Warnings: None, just fluff!

Word Count: 521

Summary: Bucky had his fellow Avenger Eliza wrap his Christmas presents, and now it’s time to pay up for the favor.

A/N: Sorry this one is so late, I’ve been in bed with a stomach bug all. Damn. Day. Fluffcember day 14! Hope you enjoy it!

Fluffcember Masterlist

Since she was the best at it, Eliza was the go-to person at the Avengers compound for present-wrapping. However, in exchange for keeping gifts a secret from their recipient and to pay her for her time, she would give out what she called, ‘Christmas Invoices.’

These weren’t typical business invoices, even though they looked similar. Instead of a dollar amount, she would enter in requests. For example, she’d requested that Tony provide proof that he’d gotten a full 8 hours of sleep or a $50,000 donation to a charity of her choice. Planned Parenthood thanked her for her generous contribution. 

She would put these invoices in neon pink envelopes with the person’s name written in black sharpie on the front. At breakfast, that morning she handed one to Natasha, one to Steve, and one to Bucky.

“Your presents are under the tree,” she chirped as she sat down and helped herself to a large helping of eggs and bacon. Bucky’s metal hand held the envelope, his flesh hand itching to open it and see what she wanted from him. Since she’d been hired as an Avenger, Bucky couldn’t help but develop a crush on her. His first crush in close to seventy years, as a matter of fact, and Steve had — of course — noticed and would not let him hear the end of it.

The sound of tearing paper tore him from his thoughts; Natasha and Steve didn’t have any patience when debts were owed, apparently.

“One night borrowing that little black cocktail dress that makes me look like sex with legs,” Natasha read out loud, the smirk evident in her voice. “You got it, babe.”

Bucky almost choked on his mouthful of coffee at the way his imagination ran wild with that visual. Eliza was gorgeous, but he hadn’t seen her in a cocktail dress. It might just be the death of him.

Steve chuckled as he read his invoice, “Your mother’s apple crumble recipe, or that you make me apple crumble once a month for the next six months. You’re serious?”

“Deadly serious,” she responded, “I’ve been dreaming about apple crumble since Thanksgiving.”

“Sorry, but I’m taking that recipe to my grave. I’ll make it for you, though.” Steve responded, fondness flashing in his ocean blue gaze. Bucky remembered when that fondness was directed at him, then suddenly it was. “What did she want from you, Buck?”

Bucky startled out of his remembrance, “Oh, uh, I haven’t…one second.” He said, tearing into his envelope. He extracted a piece of paper, all typed up and official looking, and read the ‘Payment’ section.

‘One date. Christmas Eve. Meet me at the Christmas tree at 10 pm.’

His throat dried up and he knew his eyes were the size of saucers. He glanced across the table at Emily and she winked at him while biting into a slice of bacon. 

“So, Buck? What’s your payment?” Steve pried, noticing the sparks flying from their eye contact.

“Something I most definitely look forward to,” Bucky answered, winking back at her. “Maybe you’ll cash in your favor from Natasha at the same time, doll.”

Fluffcember Masterlist

[auntmaryjo-blog-blog]

January 24, 1964

Time has crept up on me and I have neglected my diary as a result. Meant to record our 13th anniversary date which was remembered by Kaye and Darlene, who sent cards; Karen, who telephoned, and Mother & Dad, who gifted us with a pecan tree. I had Eagleson's Nursery send out another tree because I felt the yard would be better balanced with two. Of course this unbalanced my budget to the tune of $8.00. I'm hoping to reimburse the bank by winning a TV Bingo Game. You have to cover all the numbers when you play and once I just needed 2 more numbers to fill out my card when they called time. I'll probably make more money buying record albums at the Village Record Shop where they not only give you a dollar off the record but a free ticket to the Village Theatre. Latest antic of Macs has been his imitation of our barking. Of course we have to imitate a bark ourselves in order to start him off which led Mother to say that Mac had succeeded in turning us into dogs. He puts his head back and bays or croons for us. Saw a delightful comedy-mystery entitled "Charade" on Tuesday starring Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant. Wednesday was telephone day for I heard from Freda Halwe [?spelling] and Dee Hamiter and I called Robyna myself. Freda was trying to get into the VA Hospital again and wanted me to come to her Random House to pick up some books I had loaned to her. Random House is a beatniks paradise since Freda is so inventive. She has papered the walls with magazine illustrations and has put canvas under a roof leak with a rubber hose leading from the canvas to a foil covered bucket which she has inscribed "just a cottage small by a waterfall." Lee and I went to Mother and Dad's for a round of bridge (our Friday usual) and I played some hands badly but then I've got a one track mind and can't remember what I should instead I remember things I shouldn't. Mrs. Booth called today to ask my "expert" help in composing a letter to Groves City Council requesting consideration in the apportioning of insurance business. When I called her back and read my masterpiece she was so complimentary that I wish there was a market for composing business letters for firms as I believe I could qualify.

[suckitsurveys]

What was the filling in the last doughnut you ate? It was a Boston cream donut.

Do you remember what you had for dinner on Saturday evening? Mark and I made tacos.

When was the last time you bought a new pair of shoes? What kind/colour? I just ordered some from Amazon for my Sabrina Carpenter outfit. They’re red sandals with feathery straps and a little heel. I’m hoping I can stand wearing them all night. I also have a pair of new black combat boots I need to break in before I go see Billie Eilish.

Do you own any items of clothing that you’ve never worn? I mean, I haven’t worn the two outfits for Sabrina and Billie yet, other than trying them on.

When you shop for new clothes, do you ask anyone else for an opinion? I'm usually alone when I buy clothes these days.

What was the last thing that you considered buying, but chose not to? A different dress for Sabrina. The one I originally picked out had kiss marks all over it and would have been perfect, but I didn’t like the style and it was too pricey for something I probably wouldn’t wear again. The dress I decided on was on sale and I could see myself wearing again.

Who was the last person you were required to buy a gift for? I’m never “required” to buy anyone a gift. I enjoy doing it and I like the excuse. I’m going to pick something up for Lolly soon because her birthday is coming up.

And what did you choose? I haven’t figured that out yet! Probably something cute from Bath and Body Works or Dollar Tree or something.

Have you ever accidentally bought someone a gift that they already had? I’m sure I have.

Can you recall the last time you bought flowers for someone? What kind? Mark and I bought his mom flowers for mother’s day this year, but I can’t remember what they were.

And when was the last time someone sent flowers to you? What kind? I got some flowers for my birthday a month ago.

Are you a keen reader? If so, what books are you planning to read soon? I’m not a reader. I wish I was but I just cannot get into books.

How many books do you think you own? Just take a rough guess. I have no idea.

Are there any books that you own more than one copy of? I have two copies of Bossypants by Tina Fey and at one point I had two copies of To Kill a Mockingbird.

Lipstick, lip gloss, or neither? When I do wear it, lipstick.

What brand of mascara do you use, if any? I can’t remember. It came in an Ipsy bag when I was subscribed to it for the brief time I pretended I was going to learn how to do make up hahahaha.

What was the last minor disappointment that you experienced? Not going to see a movie with Lolly.

Do you have loyalty cards for any of your favourite stores? Which one(s)? The grocery store we go to.

What scent does your hand sanitizing gel have? It doesn’t have a particular scent.

What does your favourite mask look like, if you have a favourite? I don’t have one.

Do you remember what you had for lunch last Sunday? I don’t think I ended up eating lunch because I had an early dinner at my dad’s, which was sausage and pepper sandwiches with rice and beans on the side.

Is there a bottle anywhere close to you? What does it contain? There’s a bottle of hand sanitizer.

As a child, what was a trait or habit you had that annoyed your parents? You’d have to ask them?

What was the last TV series that you watched for the first time? God I have so many shows I need to fucking watch. I started The Bear but I just couldn’t get into it. I wanna try again because John Mulaney is in a couple episodes and I wanna get to those.

And what did you think of it? ^

Tell me about something you did within the last week, that brought you joy. I got to see a friend I haven’t seen in a few months and we got pizza and talked.

[lynxgirlpaws]

christmas time rant below sory

christmas this year feels so . weird like it's christmas! it's december 24th! there's. no snow. there's no tree. there's no decorations. it doesn't feel like christmas yet. my dad peeked in my room and slipped me a $100 dollar gift card . did not even say merry christmas while doing it. i'm so grateful for this. i feel bad both for receiving such a gift and not having any to give in return, but also something just. feels off. there's nothing holly or jolly about this season. i tried to contact the only person i have irl other than my dad and kinda his girlfriend to say merry christmas. my therapist's email gave me an auto response about not being in the office until january. i finally have a bit of economic freedom i can use to get... something. what do i even want? what have i even earned? what will i get that won't cause judgement or criticism or questioning. why does it not feel like christmas. i feel bad for it not feeling like christmas. i proposed playing chess and spending time with my father both today and tomorrow for christmas, he's down to play chess but has to work on christmas day all day. all i have left hanging around from my old christmas time is a golden nutcracker, and the prayer beads my mother made me before she passed. there's more downstairs. i don't feel like bothering anyone down there. it'd be awkward to say merry christmas to my only irl friend after having just responded to him about how i felt used those times we fucked. he hasn't responded. it'd be weird to be holly and jolly after that. i haven't had a conversation with someone other than my father, his girlfriend or my therapist in months. i miss the smell of pine trees and the sounds of my mother reading christmas books to me. i miss watching the polar express with her. i miss my cats hiding under the tree and the hellish experience that is putting it up in the first place. i feel bad for not being purely joyous for what i've got. i. this year's christmas is weird. but i dunno. i'm gonna try and be helpful tomorrow night for anyone else who's got a weird wonky fucked up christmas. i remember watching schlatt's christmas stream and being overjoyed and i remember how warm it felt. hopefully i can do some of the same for someone else maybe i hope. anyways give me funny ideas for stuff to buy lol

[weallwantabetterlife]

The Christmas Coat

A man was fumblin around one day in a women’s clothing store. He’d found his wife a Christmas coat and was headed for the door. When he bumped into a little boy that looked like he was lost. He said “Mister can you help me find out how much something costs?"

It's almost Christmas and the nights are gettin cold. Winter time is on us and my mom don’t have a coat. I’ve been workin for the neighbors

and saving for a time”. In his tiny outstretched hand was a dollar and a dime.

His gaze went from that big eyed boy to that pretty Christmas coat. He finally cleared away the lump that had gathered in his throat. He said “Son that’s just what this coat costs we’re lucky that we found ‘er”. He turned around and gave a wink to the lady at the counter.

She put it in a pretty box and wrapped it up just so and went off to the back to find a big red Christmas bow. He said “ I thank you for your help sir and I kindly thank you ma’am.

I hope y’all are gonna have a big Christmas

cause now I know I am”.

Well the man walked home busted except for the dollar and the dime thinkin he’d just have to buy the coat another time. He told his wife that Christmas this year wouldn’t be much fun. He gently took her in his arms and told her what he’d done. She said “ why you old softie

I wouldn’t trade you for a farm, I’ve got two or three old coats and your love to keep me warm “.

She put that money in a matchbox and placed it beneath their tree and said “that is the grandest gift you’ve ever given me”.

The years went by like years will do when people are in love. Their marriage was a golden bond that was forged by God above.

Then one day came some bitter news that filled his heart with fright, the doctor told the old man’s wife that she was going to lose her sight. He said “there’s an operation we can do but it puts me on the spot. It’s a quite complex procedure and it’s going to cost a lot”.

The old man said “doctor I’m a failure I’ve made no preparation, we don’t have the money

For that kind of an operation “. The doctor got the strangest look and he sat there for a while and then he slowly nodded as hhe broke out in a smile.

He said “ why sir you can’t fool me you’re a very wealthy man. You long ago invested in the world’s best savings plan. I’ll see she gets the best of care she’s going to be just fine

and the total cost to you old friend

Is a dollar and a dime”.

The old man stared in disbelief, then he recognized that smile. The one he’d seen those years ago on a loving thoughtful child.

He said “what you gave to me that day

was more than just a coat, you gave me the gift of giving and you gave my mother hope.

My mother’d been mistreated, neglected and abused but she gave life just one more chance and it was all because of you. Now every year she takes that coat and lays it beneath our tree, she says it represents to us the things

that Christmas ought to be.

She says that when we leave this world for a better home someday, the only things that we’ll take with us are the things we gave

away “.

Credits: Unknown

#beautiful #mother #dad #friend #dream #bham #love #happy #smile #funny #family #grateful #god #jesus #believe #coffee #freedom #veteran #bama #crimsontide #bible #prayer #happyl #USA #rolltide #blessed #birminghamalabama #alabama #bhamalabama #peace

[mxb2jokes]

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