#but done on a much tighter budget usually

[freckleslikestars]

It's the same wedding; it's the same celebration no matter what table you're at.

25 films for 25 years {19/25} TABLE 19 (2017) dir. Jeffrey Blitz

plot description from IMdB, [insp: ☆★☆★ ]

[emdotcom]

*remembers what they did to Vanny* 500 FUCKING PIPEBOMB ATTACK.

[mypoisonedvine]

virgin neil lewis with 11: “fuck, do that again... please."

your work is so fucking good i LOVE it

thank you so much love!! i got so many amazing neil requests but I love the idea of virgin neil c: kinda made him an incel lowkey...

warnings: noncon sexual content (18+ only!!), perv!neil, grinding, neil being a creepy nice guy with 0 stamina (aka my exact type)

100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!

Neil could be a little bit... well... touchy.

You mostly didn't mind it. It was just his way of being friendly and he usually made you laugh with the way he would randomly hug you from behind or tickle you or playfight you just to hold you down.

Every once in a while it would get weird, but not too weird; just his dorky, goofy sense of humor taking a jokingly-horny turn.

Well, you thought he was joking.

Like, for example, today—when you were on the couch arguing over what to watch (a common occurrence).

“No way,” he shook his head, “it’s shlock!”

“Just because it had a big budget doesn’t mean it’s shlock!” you defended.

“Oh yeah?” he challenged with a smirk.  “Just read the box!”

He snatched the DVD case out of your hands, flipping it to read the back as you tried to pull it away from him.

“In a world,” he began reading the synopsis in a deep, dramatic voice.  “See?  No good movie starts its premise with in a world—”

“Shut up!” you whined.  “Reading the back is cheating!  Gimme it!”

You leaned over him, trying to grab it, but his arms were longer; he held it up high and tilted his head back to keep reading: “In a world devastated by nuclear war—”

“You’d like it if you gave it a chance!” you insisted.  You couldn’t reach as high as him from where you were sitting, so you thoughtlessly hopped into his lap and lifted yourself up to get closer.  He yanked it away again, leaning to the side and watching you as you laughed and groaned and tried to get it away from him.  “You just need to see it, then you’d like it!”

Three things happened at once, right then: you moved to try to get the DVD from him, twisting yourself in his lap; his other hand grabbed suddenly and tightly onto your hip; and he stopped laughing.

You didn’t really notice it at first, just happy you managed to snatch the case from him.  You only really realized something was different when you looked at him with a smug grin which fell quickly.  “Neil?”

His lip was between his teeth, and his face was a little flushed.

“Neil, what’s wrong?” you wondered, relaxing on top of him, which only made you put more pressure against his— oh.

“Fuck,” he breathed, holding your hips with both hands now, “do that again… please.”

“What the fuck?!” you snapped.  “Are you— is that—?”

You tried to get off of him, but he was holding you down.  Your face flushed as you suddenly felt self-conscious about everything you’d done— about wearing these tiny lounge shorts, about getting in his lap, about coming over to see him at all.  He rocked his hips slightly under you, and you whimpered as you understood, without a doubt, that he was rubbing his erection right against you through his pants.  You could feel it throbbing, even.  You weren’t sure what was worse: the possibility that he got that hard that fast because you were in his lap, or that he’d been hard before when you two were just hanging out.

“Let me go, Neil,” you demanded, but your voice was weak and shaking; he ignored you, looking down at you in his lap as he moved you on top of him.  “Neil, stop—”

“Fuck,” he sighed, “you’re warm.”

He did it again, again; you felt sick and strange and sort of numb as he held you tighter, groaning under his breath.  “This isn’t funny,” you whined, “this is—what the fuck, dude—”

“Sorry,” he panted, moving you faster over him, and you grimaced as you were forced to feel the details of his cock against your pussy.  It was disturbing, really, how well you could feel it with these clothes in the way: you could feel the ridge of his head, the shape and thickness of his shaft…

You swallowed, blinking quickly, not really believing that this was happening—this couldn’t be happening, right?  Not to you, not with Neil, it just didn’t make sense.  “Stop,” you begged again, quieter yet more desperate than ever.

“I will, I will,” he promised, “I’m so close— I’m almost done, then I’ll stop— fuck!”

He tossed his head back, and you felt it flexing.  You watched in shock, confusion, and disgust as a small stain began to form on his shorts, hot come soaking through the fabric as his chest rose and fell quickly while he caught his breath.

You were speechless, and confused, and you had pins and needles all over as you tried to convince yourself that didn’t just happen— that your ‘friend’ hadn’t just used you to come, holding you down and rubbing you against him.  You’d felt so helpless and dirty… so why was there a wet patch in your own shorts, not from coming but from unsatisfied arousal?

His grip relaxed on your hips, and you could get up, but you were still frozen.  If you moved now, you might have to acknowledge that this was real. 

“Okay,” he smiled, still breathing a bit heavy, eyes still shut with relief, “we can watch your movie now.”

[bluesfortheredj]

A helping hand.

A/N: You can tell when this was meant to come out... anyway, sorry again for the delay but I'm finally settled in the house now and will be getting the last requests out when I can :)

Christmas.

The most wonderful time of the year.

Supposedly, anyway.

Yours seemed more stressful than usual this year though; between worrying about money, what presents to get people on your tighter budget, and how you were going to organise Christmas this year between the two families you had very little to smile about. The festive cheer had certainly evaded you so far and it was already the beginning of December.

“Right, Jane’s said she’s not doing presents this year which should give us some wiggle room for others,” you sigh, having just received the fortuitous text message.

You look down to the notebook which had a list of names and the gift ideas next to them, then cross her name out with a relieved huff and look over to where Rufus sits tapping away on his phone enthusiastically. A grin spreads across his tired looking face and he suddenly meets your gaze with wide, excited eyes.

“I know this is super last minute but look at this!”

He jumps from the armchair to the seat next to you on the sofa with a bounce and thrusts his phone under your nose for you to see the email that had got him so riled up, then you make out the main words that make your heart sink a little; fly out to France for two nights, back on Christmas eve.

“Oh… Wow… It’s, uh… a great opportunity.”

“So it’ll be a week in total what with rehearsals in London…” he grins, “but this is amazing!”

“A week?” you repeat, having missed that part of the email completely, “but we’ve got so much to do before the big day…”

“It’ll be fine,” he says with a wave of his hand, “don’t worry! I’ll do what I can before all this, and I promise you’ll have the bare minimum to do after.”

You give him a nod and a smile but you knew Rufus too well by now, and he wasn’t exactly the most organised of humans, in fact he was quite simply the complete opposite and regularly left most things until the last second. His attention turns back to the device in his hands as he excitedly types his reply back to this thrilling event he’d been invited to, and you can’t help but feel a heavy sensation in your stomach at the thought of the next couple of weeks.

It was edging ever closer to the big day when Rufus finally appears from the stairwell just as you place your plate in the sink and grab the reusable bags from the side, “you ready?”

He briefly looks up from his phone with a questioning brow, “for what?”

“Christmas shopping, silly! You said we’d get it done today while you’re still here.”

“Shit, of course, yeah, I’ve just gotta meet Danny in town and then I’m all yours, I promise.”

“But…”

He gives your cheek a fleeting kiss then shrugs his jacket on, “I’ll meet you at the shops, I’ll phone you when I’m done!”

With that, he disappears out of the front door, leaving you with the bags gripped firmly in your grasp, your fingers tightening with anger as you stare at the door he’d only just exited seconds before. You knew this was going to happen and yet you couldn’t help feeling disappointed that it had.

“Hmph,” you huff, grabbing your handbag and deciding to do this by yourself instead.

Your mind is a jumble of emotions as you walk around the shops picking up bits for everyone; on one hand you knew that Rufus couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this, yet on the other you wished he didn’t let it totally consume him, especially now with it being so close to Christmas and you needing help with the preparations for it. You eye yet another bath set for your mum and place it down in the trolley in front of you with a sad sigh before making your way to the checkout and checking your phone for a call you knew wouldn’t be coming.

It’s late when you finally get home and you can see the lights on inside indicating that someone was already there, so you trudge up the path with your hands full of heavy bags and give the door a couple of taps with your foot.

“Babe!” he grins when he opens up to find you standing there, “let me take some of those.”

He grabs a couple from each hand and you follow him inside, pushing the front door shut with your elbow as you watch his familiar blonde ponytail disappear into the lounge.

“Busy day then, huh?” you say quietly, trying to keep your anger from bubbling over.

He pouts as he lowers the bags carefully to the floor, leaning them up against the sofa, “I’m so sorry, everything took longer than expected and then we got something to eat and I knew you’d be done by the time we got out of there so I just-”

You can’t help but scoff at his answer; you were already enraged and his bumbling excuse about going for dinner rather than helping you tipped you over the edge, “I can’t do this,” you shrug, dropping the bags with a thud and turn to walk away.

“Can’t do what? Where are you going?!” he worries.

“You said you were going to call and meet me in town to help with all this,” you reply, spinning around and gesturing to the bags scattered across the floor, “you said that before you had to fly off you’d make sure you could help me so that I had the minimum amount left before Christmas.”

“I know, and I’m sorry! What about tomorrow?”

“No,” you reply sternly, “no. I have a job too you know, and it’s our busiest time of the year as well, but no, don’t worry about me, I’ll just sort the presents, the food, the budget that’s required a hell of a lot of adjusting this year…”

“That’s why I’m doing this! I know we need the money, so that’s yet another reason why I agreed to it!” he reaches out for you but you step backwards and shake your head.

“I appreciate that, I really do, but I also just really needed your help today. It wasn’t like you were being paid to go eat after the meeting was it? Ru, I’m exhausted, and I’ve got work in the morning, and I’m going to have to do everything else without you when you jet off again, so I genuinely really did need you today.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighs morosely.

You sniff a little before pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, “so am I,” you whisper, once more turning towards the door and heading out to your car.

“Where are you going?” he asks, attempting to grab onto the vehicle door as you shut it.

“My parent’s place.”

“What?! Why?!”

“I need to cool off.”

You hastily put the car into reverse and make your exit as quickly as you possibly can without seeing the hurt in the eyes of the man you love. As soon as you get onto the main road you regret it but you have to stand your ground and reluctantly continue the short journey to your parent’s house in a stony silence, not even the radio uttering a note. Once you turn into your parent’s road you park up and sit in the quiet that had accompanied you on the entire journey as your mind whirs with regret and sadness.

“Fuuuck,” you whisper as your forehead connects with the steering wheel.

The engine is still running as you roll your head from side to side slowly until eventually you make the decision to turn straight back around and head home. The last thing you wanted was for Rufus to leave while you were in the middle of a disagreement so you knew you had to make things right even though you did want to stand your ground about the matter.

You open the front door slowly and carefully once you get back, not wanting to make your appearance known straight away, but Rufus soon comes bounding down the stairs as soon as you shut the door behind you and his lips land on yours in a desperate kiss.

“I didn’t think you were going to come back,” he whispers breathlessly between kisses, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

He cups your jaw delicately yet firmly as he presses his lips on and around your mouth while your fingers weave into his blonde hair with ease, “I’m sorry,” you manage to mumble when his lips move.

He pulls away with a slight frown, “I’m sorry,” he sighs, “I didn’t mean to be such a selfish asshole, I wasn’t thinking, I-” you cut him off with another kiss.

“It’s okay, do you wanna apologise here, or upstairs?”

There’s a moment where he processes what you’re saying, then his eyebrows lift as his lips turn up into a smile, “upstairs.”

Request: Could you please make one with Rufus where they have a Big fight, reader leaves and come back later and they reunite + more

[joanshan]

Eating Healthy on a Budget: Can It Be Done?

Let’s face it – times have been tough the last couple of years! Many of us have lost our income sources, as least temporarily during this “pandemic.” Thank heavens for unemployment, but it’s only a fraction of what our income is or has been. Although things seem to be picking up again for many people, we can still be justifiably concerned with cash flow, paying bills, and feeding ourselves and our loved ones.

So, this begs the question – can we eat healthy on a tighter budget? Can it really be done?

The answer is a resounding YES! I’ll tell you how!

First of all, it’s a great time to start reducing our junk food intake. Junk food, as most of us know, takes away from our healthy by supplying a fraction of substandard nutrients. I can hear it now – but I can’t afford to buy healthy food! I used to say and think this myself in earlier years. 

However, it’s not true. Even organic foods go on sale; in fact, some grocery stores have it on clearance racks. The trick is to buy it at greatly reduced rates, and then either eat it right away, or throw it in the freezer if it’s fresh meat, poultry, or wild caught fish, or store it in your cupboards if it’s something canned, such as organic beans. 

If you are buying fresh produce on sale, just buy enough to feed yourselves before it goes bad. So, salads would be something to consume right away, but you can get by a little longer if you cook with it in soups, stir-fries, stews, etc. (Plus you can freeze it then.)

Eating Healthy on a Budget: Can It Be Done? Explore the possibilities of maintaining your health by eating a balanced diet without breaking the bank. Discover tips and strategies to make nutritious choices that are easy on the wallet.

Don’t think you can’t do the same thing with fresh conventional foods. I’m always checking the meat clearance rack and checking for sales on everything. I visit my grocery store fairly often – some of you won’t have time or inclination to do so, and it’s just a suggestion. 

If some of you have access to bulk purchasing, you can always buy things like spring water at bulk prices and larger quantities. So, in my opinion, if it makes sense to have a paid membership, then by all means do so, because over the course of a year, you will save much more money than the membership price.

Advance planning is always a good way to potentially save money. You’re not buying things so much on the spur of the moment. If you have a grocery list, then just buy what’s on the list.

It’s still usually less expensive to cook and eat at home, although I am a big fan of eating healthy in restaurants. But often and especially in the winter especially, when I don’t feel so much like going outside and running around, I eat more at home and my bank account thanks me!

If you cook more than you eat at one meal, don’t be afraid to consume your leftovers in a timely manner. Most cooked food can be frozen, so if you freeze your leftovers, you don’t have to have the same meal several times in a row. 

Try not to shop when you’re hungry! Statistics show that we tend to buy more when our tummies are growling – LOL!

Remember to keep your food purchases to real, whole foods – skip the ramen noodles and mac and cheese even though they’re very inexpensive to buy, relatively speaking. Your overall health, including your mental health, will thank you!

Get to know your food brands – do your due diligence and make sure that these companies have a good reputation for quality, especially in terms of having a lack of chemical additives which  really take away from your health. (Ask yourself, am I worth it?! And I really, really hope your answer is yes!) 

So, if you have a good brand, and you’re always reading ingredients and know about processing methods, you can save a little more money and buy generic. One good example is the Whole Foods home brand (365), which always saves money. Since I shop at Kroger, I have familiarized myself with their Simple Truth Natural and Simple Truth Organic brands and have done my due diligence.

Another good hack is to purchase healthy but cheaper cuts of meat and you can use them in your pressure cooker, soups, stews, burritos, casseroles, etc.

After fresh produce (hopefully that’s local and in season), you can go to flash frozen fruits and veggies, as these will usually contain more healthy diet than canned. 

If you have a green thumb, you can try your hand at growing your own garden of produce – it’s so much fun! I have a very tiny back yard, but I have cultivated it over about 5 years and it’s pretty close to organic by now. 

You can grow your own plants from seeds, or you can buy organic plants, but at least purchase non-GMO plants. I lay fresh, organic soil down each year, too. I can easily get about 20 veggie plans in my small garden, although I will admit that it’s way too crowded. My yield each year is fantastic, and I really enjoy the miracle of growing my own food!

If you like digital and/or paper coupons, use them wisely. If your grocery store generates coupons for you, they may base them on your buying patterns, so at times, I get double discounts – from a mark-down and a coupon, combined. I buy more when I get good stuff cheap and use it up later.

And, as always, please have a happy and holistically healthy day!

Dr. P

Source: Eating Healthy

[winslowat3am]

I think you’re the right person to ask. I hope to get rhino on my nose and lip fillers for my 18th bday because I think it can help me get into modeling but idk how it will look? I am not going to lie, if I had money to get plastic surgery I would probably be transforming my body nonstop. It seems there is always an issue with my body. I am tired of ignoring mirrors!

Have you ever had work done if I can ask? I get that it’s private for some people who do

*Cw/Tw: surgery, body image, weight mentions*

As an adult, it's my responsibility to tell you that touching your face at such a young age really isn't necessary or recommended by any cosmetic surgeon who cares about your health more than your wallet. That being said, I never talk about this on YouTube but I don't believe in lying to people about my surgeries if I'm asked. I have had three different surgeries on my face from the time I was twenty-two up to twenty-five years old. It started with dermal fillers in my chin cause I used to have a dimple or "cleft chin" that I was really insecure about, which later let to a chin augmentation. Basically, I have a small implant in my chin to mask the dimple, which is reversible if I ever decided to have it removed. The fillers cost around $4k together, the surgical implant was $7k. The second surgery was a small alteration to my nose (tip rhinoplasty, $2.3k), I had the tip shaved down a bit cause I didn't like the European look of it. I dislike pointed noses cause, imo, they make your face stick out too much from your side profile. My face already looks big cause I have a square shaped forehead & prominent features, an elongated nose added to the mix isn't flattering. The last surgery was a minor nose tip revision, which was $5k+. I also get infrared light facial treatments, which gives your skin a tighter look & feel & clears up any fine lines you may have by producing large amounts of collagen, that's about $600 a visit. Occasionally I go for dermaplaning facials too, the cost is $200. & at a point time I used to get Melanotan II - an injection to darken skin since my natural complexion is a deep olive color & I'd become pale in the winter, but I've since stopped cause there are health risks. All together the work done on my face cost $18k-$19k. My original budget was $340k as the cost of high end surgeons can be expensive, I don't think dropping thousands of dollars on your face is worth it at your age. The only change an agency or scout wants is usually weight loss & clear skin, in my case I always felt I was too skinny so I gained weight by building muscle. So, to answer your question, no, models don't typically get big amounts of surgery, it always should be subtle alterations like what I've gotten or none at all, & typically done on the face. When people can tell that you've had surgery, then you either had too much or you have a bad surgeon. If you change your appearance too much you could lose your job. The point of surgery is to look like you haven't had any while enhancing or softening your features without destroying them. I'm always available to answer any other questions you might have about this topic, modeling, skincare, health & fitness or anything related to those things.

This a collection of random photos over the course of years in order where the changes are most evident. One of the natural, most significant changes was the loss in facial fat after I started exercising & cut sugar, carbs & salt almost completely out of my diet, which made the bone structure of my face more sharp.

*Please reconsider cosmetic surgery, I'm sure you're beautiful the way you are, & you're still growing, you might not even want them anymore in the future. Plus when you have serious alterations you'll have to work twice as hard correcting & maintaining them as you age which could destroy your overall appearance & impact your finances! It's a bigger risk to take than loving yourself* ❤️

[kathaniiisharma]

How about #46 + Jockthany???

“Hey, have you seen the..? Oh.” + Jockthony

Okay, this is probably one of the sillier but my personal favourite pieces of Jockthony lore we came up with so I’m glad it fits with this prompt. It’s ridiculous.

——

Kate has never had much in terms of money. Her family got by well enough when her appa was alive but budgets got tighter after losing him so she learned to get by her own way. She was a regular at the thrift stores, putting together her own unique style, always ready to alter clothes to fit her better or add a special twist to an item.

It’s no different when she and Sophie move into a flat together for university. Sophie was in a similar financial situation and they often shopped together. The majority of their furniture is secondhand and fixed up by Kate herself.

Anthony, of course, is fascinated because his mother imports their furniture and makes sure it’s nothing but the best quality. He cannot believe Kate reupholstered the chairs in the dining room herself. It amazes him. He mentions getting a new desk and shows her the catalogue his mother gave him. Kate takes one look at it and tosses it aside.

"Absolutely not. Get your coat. We're going thrifting."

The desk she picks out at the charity shop meets all his requirements but he’s skeptical, it’s old and scratched up, seemingly having its best days behind it. 

“Maybe we should look at the catalogue again.” He says, not yet able to see the potential Kate sees.

“I will have a new desk for you by Monday, just trust me.”

He shows up early the next day with coffee and pastries, ready to help though, in the end, he mostly feeds her and hands her things. “It’s so much work for a desk, babe.” 

“Yes, but when it’s done no one else is going to have a desk like yours.” She explains pointing to a little shelf with different paint and tells him to pick one. He picks a deep blue.

Daphne comes over to visit two weeks later and is surprised to see his new desk. A pop of colour in his usually stark-looking flat. 

“Was this in the catalogue mom sent? I don’t remember it.” She asks, remembering how Anthony asked for her opinion.

"Daph! Did you know that you can buy used furniture and fix it and decorate it however you want?"

”Yes Anthony, we give all of our old furniture to charity shops. Is that where you got this?” 

“Kate did it, isn’t it incredible?”

Daphne is genuinely impressed and asks Kate if she’d help her redecorate her bedroom this summer. 

“Oh, Anthony actually helped me with the desk but I’d love to,” Kate explains, never one to take all the credit herself.

“I handed her all the tools she needed. It was a joint effort.” Anthony explains as he hugs Kate from behind.

Meanwhile, the reality of it is that Kate tried desperately to stop Anthony from hurting himself. “Anthony if you stand there all the dust is going to get directly on you. Babe, you’ll cut your hand with that. Don’t sniff that!”

"I feel lightheaded." 

"Yes! It's paint thinner!"

Once they both graduate, they buy a house together in London. Well, Anthony buys the house but Kate is determined to contribute as they make the house their own. 

Unfortunately for Anthony, the home has very high ceilings that Kate has plans for. She refuses to live in a cold, boring house. He is panicked when Kate goes on a ladder to do some detail work on the walls.

“Hey, babe? Have you seen the… oh. No, no, no. Sweetie, that's pretty high up." 

"Yup." 

"Should maybe we get a harness or some mattresses on the ground?" 

"Nope." 

"Please."

"Anthony, the ladder is sturdy. Stop worrying." 

"I don't think that's possible." He says as hovers beneath her the entire time she's up there, making her promise to not do anything that needs the big ladder unless he's home.

After it’s clear that Kate has no intention of giving up being parched on ladders, he steals one of her sketchbooks to come up with ideas to keep her from injuring herself, growing more desperate with each attempt at a solution. Kate is unaware of his attempts until a couple of weeks later as she sits down to sketch. Her personal favourite idea is a bubble wrap suit he designed but had seemingly given up. Kate frames it and keeps it on her desk. He’d even labelled each part of it. 

‘Love of my life’ 

‘Ladder’ 

‘Bubble Wrap’ 

‘Me (very worried)’

Anthony barely remembers doing it until he sees it in her office one day and feels mildly embarrassed by it. 

“Are you kidding me? That’s the sweetest thing anyone's ever attempted to do for me.” Kate insists as she settles on his lap.

“Yeah?” 

“Yes and I think it’s cute you tried to put muscles on the stick figure of yourself.”

“Drawing curly hair is hard. I didn’t do you justice.” He rests his chin on her shoulder as they admire his work.

“My boobs look good though.”

“I redid that three times, wanted to depict you as accurately as possible.”

 “Babe, that’s not accurate. They’re massive but I’ll take it.” 

“They look like that all the time.” Insists Anthony.

“In a push-up bra maybe.”

Anthony reaches his arms around his wife and cups her boobs to compare them to his drawing. “No, I’m pretty sure I got them right.”

They continue their conversation with him holding her boobs. “You’d have to halve the boobs on that drawing for it to be accurate.” 

“You can’t criticize art, Kate. Isn’t that what you always say?”

[milktei]

“Kiss your Husband”

Kuroo Tetsuro x Wife Reader

Genre: angst with a happy ending

a/n: My first post! Also this was based off of This Reddit post that struck me in my soulll

“Kiss your husband” “Kiss your wife”

A stupid little game that you and your husband Kuroo Tetsurou created at the beginning of your marriage

At first you two said it as a way to flaunt your newly acquired titles to each other, reminding one another “hey we’re married now, you're my spouse!”

Then, it evolved into a unique way to ask for kisses and attention or to stay in each other's presence longer. Tetsu would get up to get ready for work, but you would pull him in with the simple three words “Kiss your wife.”

He would roll his eyes but turn to kiss you with a goofy smile on his face, which would lead to another kiss, which would lead to him nearly being late to work.

It was dumb but it worked. It was one of the factors that kept you two communicating and stuck together like glue.

Even when it felt like your marriage was crumbling around you.

“What so I should just quit my job now huh? would that finally make you happy?”

You glared harder at the man standing in front of you “You know damn well that’s not what I meant Tetsu” These types of arguments have been common lately, you wanted him to take time off and relax for once, he was barely home anymore. He insisted that it needed to be done

He scoffed “You might as well have, you know that I have to work these hours it’s unavoidable, we need the money.”

Money. It was always about the money and him trying to fulfill the promise he had made to you years ago, the promise of a life where the both of you could live a life you only dreamt about before. A life that once seemed out of reach.

But was it really worth it if you came home to a cold and empty house every day? was it worth it that at the rare chance you got to talk to your husband, it would only end in fights like this?

“I understand Tetsu but honestly we’re fine right now where we are. you can slow down.”

“Maybe if I didn’t have such a needy bitch of a wife I would be able to slow down, but we can’t all have what we want, can we? I guess you wouldn’t know with your habit of throwing my money around”

You took a step back your eyes widening in surprise. Tetsu was usually busy so it was up to you to buy the groceries, up to you to buy what you needed for the house you lived in, up to you to hire people to fix or upgrade any appliances that needed it. You rarely bought anything for yourself anymore, but he only saw the money leave the bank account. Nothing you bought anymore was useless, it was stuff you needed, you even budgeted and used coupons to make sure to get the best price. You worked hard to help Kuroo achieve the dreams you both had for the future. But he didn’t acknowledge that, did he?

It was as if all the anger left your body and it was all replaced by hurt. Pure hurt caused by the man who claimed to love you so much.

Kuroo froze too as if the words that just left his mouth were finally registering in his mind “Shit, (y/n)-“

You turned away from him, not wanting him to see the tears that were threatening to fall any second, “I’m sorry you feel that way,” you managed to whisper “I’m going to bed.”

“(y/n) I didn’t mean-” you shook your head and wrapped your arms around yourself in a sorry attempt to comfort yourself

“Don’t. I’m so tired Tetsurou, tired of... whatever this is right now, I’m going to bed.”

you were met with silence and began waking to the guest room.

“Kiss your husband”

Your head whipped up and your nails dug into your arms at the sound of those three words. No, not now, of all times why now?

“Tetsu-“

“Kiss your husband.” His voice cracked, you didn’t have to look at him to know that he was on the verge of tears too.

You stood still, as stiff as a board and you gripped yourself even harder. Every part of your being screamed at you not to, it was stupid, now was not the time, you were hurt because of him, just break the cycle.

The cycle.

It had never been broken before, not once throughout the years of cuddles, teasing and smaller fights. It was an unspoken promise to not break it, breaking the cycle would mean...

The end.

The end of the cycle the end of its deeper meaning between the two of you.

The end of your relationship

Your silence and stillness was unnerving. It broke Tetsu’s heart knowing that you were genuinely considering breaking the cycle, he knew you were. but you hadn’t moved yet allowing him to grip on to the little hope he had left, that you would turn around and that you would be able to fix this together.

“(Y/n)” He pleaded.

With a sharp exhale you turned on your heel and held in a sob as you marched towards your husband, stood on your tiptoes and gave him a peck on the lips. Stupid stupid stupid Kuroo Tetsurou. You whipped your head back around and attempted to walk back to the bedroom but he managed to grab hold of your wrist before you could move any further

“Let go,” you said in a wobbly voice

“No,” Tetsu said firmly. He pulled you towards his chest and you couldn’t hold back your cries anymore.

He held you as you cried, some of his own tears trailed down his cheek onto your hair,

“We’ll be okay (y/n),” he said in an attempt to comfort you, but you knew that he was also trying to convince himself too.

Hesitantly you nodded and he held you tighter to himself “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I promise.”

You gripped his shirt and nodded again, not trusting your voice to speak just yet.

He pulled back and cupped your face, using his thumb to brush away your tears “Let’s go to bed and talk about it in the morning okay?”

you leaned into his palm and nodded “okay.” you hiccuped.

“Kiss your husband?” He asked hopefully again.

You couldn’t help the small giggle that left your lips before pulling him in for another kiss.

[peralta-guaranteed]

After that Jake-Mac-Rosa fic, you dropped this queen: 👑 Next time, a Jake-Mac-Holt piece?

Oh dang, THAT's where I left it. Thank you for that. 🤪

Grandpa Holt is always a pleasure to write, but let's try for some Dad Holt too...

"Is everything alright, Peralta?"

Jake has been sitting off to the side of the group for a while now, so Holt finds it necessary to inquire. He's not used to the eager detective being so closed off and quiet unless something is wrong, and nothing he can think of right now strikes him as 'wrong': they have been celebrating the end of a rather arduous case for Diaz and Boyle, and Peralta had been as helpful as he could be as a tertiary, which was not his preferred position at all. The first round at Shaw's had been paid by himself as Captain, obviously, and the next by Diaz, so Boyle has promised to shoulder the third, were it to happen. Ergo Peralta could not be thinking about his usual money problems, which have lessened anyway ever since Santiago took over his budgeting.

That means something else entirely must be 'wrong' in order for Jake to keep out of the conversation, only reply when he is mentioned by name, and drift off to a corner of the bar while the other congregate around the various game options of the room.

"I'm good, Captain, thanks." Jake answers with a smile and an obvious lie, so Holt doesn't even bother replying, just raises one of his eyebrows a quarter of an inch, which he knows usually gets him results with Peralta. The ensuing sigh shows that it is still working.

"It's just..." Jake shrugs and rubs the back of his neck, another tell of his discomfort. "This is my first night out alone since the baby."

"Indeed." Holt replies. "I remember your phone call to Amy to inform her you would be back late today."

"Yeah." His hand is still on his neck, the other one clutched around his half empty beer bottle. "She told me to have fun. But..uh... I still kinda feel like I shouldn't be here."

"Do you think having a child robs you of autonomity? I know I am not speaking from experience, here, but it does seem to me like you are allowed to enjoy time away from your family, especially if your spouse insists you do."

"Getting drunk at a bar while my kid might be crying at home doesn't feel like the responsible thing to do, is all."

"Ah, I see." Holt nods, and he does see - he actually sees a lot more than what Jake might be trying to imply in his statement. He remembers how he used to self-medicate with alcohol in the past, after ending his relationship with that defense attorney, or even before, while feeling heartbroken over Santiago. He also remembers anecdotes about his father's drinking, not from Peralta himself, obviously, but from the rest of the squad, whenever Jake would cancel on a promised night out after Roger Peralta's visits. As much as Holt hates idioms, one of his most despised is probably 'the apple doesn't fall far from the tree', and Jake seems to fear it as well.

"Here is my solution, then, if you are willing to listen." Jake looks up at Holt as he's standing in front of him, and his hand drops from his neck. "You make the beer you are currently drinking your last for the night, and spend some quality time with your colleagues instead, enjoying a few parlour games, and then you head home at an agreeable time and still see your child before he falls asleep."

Jake grins and takes a sip of his beer.

"Sounds like a plan, Cap." He nods, and Holt doesn't ignore the fact that Jake has been using this shortened nickname for him a lot lately, and how eerily similar it sounds to 'Dad' in his voice.

(An hour later, he receives a picture on his cellphone from Peralta: The man himself, asleep on his couch, with his infant son equally asleep on his chest. Santiago must have commandeered his phone, and Holt is glad for it.)

-*-

"Grampa!"

The sound of that little voice echoes through the hallway as loudly as the ensuing footsteps, and Holt feels something warm and solid wrap around his legs.

"Hello, McClane." He smiles down at the little boy currently clutching his knees, and he smiles back before raising his arms in an obvious demand to be lifted up. Holt obeys it immediately.

He notices Mac looks surprisingly tired for an otherwise very energetic two year old, and Amy, who's now following him to Holt's side, looks equally exhausted.

"Good afternoon, Captain. I'm so sorry, I should've messaged you that I have to bring Mac in for an hour, the babysitter cancelled and the day care couldn't keep him longer than-"

"It is quite alright, Santiago. McClane knows how to behave himself at the precinct, right?" He gives the little boy in his arms a look, and receives a strong and eager nod in reply, the curls on his head bouncing back and forth. If anyone were ever to question Peralta's parentage, that alone would classify them as an imbecile. "I can watch him for the time being, if you have paperwork you need to get in order before leaving for the day."

"God, Captain Holt, would you- that would be so- I was going to ask Rosa, because I know she's at her desk-"

Amy seems far more frazzled than usual, and Holt realises that her regular schedule must be in quite a disarray, considering she has been a single parent for about a week now. Mac must not have been making it easy for her, either, nor must the baby currently growing in her stomach, which has started to show about a month ago, at which point they finally informed the squad about it (when everyone had already figured it out just like last time).

"RoRo!" Mac yells, happily, almost leaning out of Holt's arms, but he quickly hugs him tighter.

"Your aunt Rosa is working, McClane, and we should not interrupt her. We can spend the time in my office, and you can draw if you would like."

"Roro working." He echoes like a little parrot. "Like Daddy."

"That's right." Holt has learned from the parenting homepages he's visited that you are to encourage a child trying to talk and string together a coherent topic, no matter how long it might take.

"Daddy's working away." Mac continues, and out of the corner of his eye Holt sees Amy's forehead wrinkle in worry.

"Yes, your father is in New Jersey for the week to work on a special case." It's not a dangerous case at all, rather a boring standard task that happened to involve some out-of-state suspects, but Jake had still been trying to hand off that trip to anyone who might be willing to help him out. Seeing his son with bags under his eyes and his wife with stresslines around her mouth and her hand on her belly, Holt understands why.

"He comes back." Mac says next, and it is a statement, but the look in his eyes makes it a question, and Holt is quick to answer. He's glad that he has a definite answer to that, instead of the empty promises and assurances he sometimes has to make as the head of a police department.

"Yes, your father will be back soon. In two days, in fact."

Mac holds up two grubby little fingers, and Holt nods with so much fervor it surprises himself.

"Very good, that is two. Only two days and two nights until your father is back home." The worry in Mac's eyes seems to dimish a little at that as he stares at his own fingers. "If we go to my office, we can check on the calendar exactly how long that is." He barely waits for another nod before taking the diaper bag out of Santiago's hands, who whispers a quiet, but relieved "Thank you" to him. He understands again that it means far more than to thank him for taking care of the child for an hour so.

(If he uses that hour to assure Mac several times that no matter what, his father will always find a way back to him with far more emotion in his voice than he'd usually use, well, no one needs to know. Peralta certainly seems happy about the picture he sends him of Mac with his captain's hat behind his desk.)

-*-

"Congratulations." Holt's hand on his shoulder is heavy, but not uncomfortably so, and it gives a quick squeeze before dropping.

They've done the whole customary introduction to the newborn baby, the apparently necessary picture round, and now Kevin is having an amicable chat with Amy in her hospital bed. They've waited two days for their official visit, to give the new parents a chance to get at least a few of their bearings. (Holt was there merely an hour after the birth, of course, with the rest of the squad, but that was a moment of joyful chaos and many voices.) Now the room is filled with an almost serene quiet, Amy's and Kevin's voices low and comfortable in the background as Holt watches the man he truly considers a son hold up his new granddaughter.

"Do you want to hold her again? I know you already did for the photos but-"

Holt only nods and takes the infant out of his hands with perfect ease. He's more used to a wriggling toddler now, but he still clearly remembers the days when Mac was equally quiet and frail in his arms. The little one in them now is asleep amidst all that is happening, her tiny mouth open just a fraction, and he feels her arm bump against his chest while she seems to be having a dream.

"She is as perfect as her older brother, Jake."

"Yeah." Jake smiles, and there's nothing of that boisterous, loud, cocky detective grin left in it that he used to know. It is soft and kind and full of love, and it might be one of Holt's favourite expressions. "Amy did a superb job again."

"As did you."

"I'm sure I don't gotta explain this to you, Cap, but I didn't really do much." Jake jokes, and Holt can tell he's trying to divert the attention to a simpler topic, but sometimes things must be said.

"You do a lot, Jacob." He continues, then. "Far more than a lot of fathers do. Far more than many would expect of you. And you do it all perfectly right, with heart and determination."

Jake nods, swallowing down a lump in his throat, it seems, and it might be a step too far for his already emotional state, but Holt feels like it needs to accompany his accolades.

"I am very proud of you, son."

Jake is very obviously fighting back tears as he replies.

"Thanks, dad."

The little girl in Holt's arms stirs right at this moment, and Jake seems to want to interject immediately in fear that she'll start crying, but she simply stares up at Holt with impossibly big, brown eyes for the first time. And he realises, just as he did two years ago when Mac's little hand tightened around his finger for the first time, that there is a child in this world that he would literally do anything for. There are four of them now, even if two of them have not fallen under the category of a child for several decades.

"Hello, Maya." He says to the little face that seems to be inspecting him. "I'm Captain Raymond Holt. Your grandfather."

He looks up at Kevin and Amy, who've stopped their conversation while Amy is lifting her phone in their direction, and then at Jake, who's looking at Maya as well with shining eyes. Then he looks back down at Maya, stretching her arms out of her swaddle as if she's reaching for him.

"You are a very lucky little girl."

[themanicnami]

READINGS OPEN INDEFINITELY

Hey guys! So as you know I’ve been dealing with some unfortunate circumstances due to COVID-19. Permanent lay-off from my main job effective as of Sept. 28th and unemployment in my state near impossible to get. I have an appointment with them but it will no longer let people file online. You can only do it by appointment now.

I know a lot of others are suffering severely as well - but if anyone has any spare income and wants a reading please feel free to IM me or send me an ask or (preferably) send me a submission form.

For readings I will need an email address to send the invoice to.

The Readings I Offer

Tarot Readings

A simple thing that many offer but with my readings you will receive images of the spreads and cards taken and any other addition items added (crystals drawing, colormancy, etc)

1 Card Reading - $1.50

3 Card Reading - $3.00

5 Card Reading - $5.00

10 Card Reading - $8.00

Custom Spreads or Requests - Up for Discussion

Past Life Readings

My bread and butter! Every interested in delving down into the lives you may have experienced in the past? Are you wanting to do some soul searching or get back to some of your old energy of those times? Well these readings are wonderful for self discovery, self reflection and to improve yourself over flaws of history.

Standard Reading (5 Cards) - $5.00

The standard past life reading is where I do a 5 card spread based off of the custom spread I created personally for past life readings. These readings will consist of: early life, teenage life, young adult life, adult life, and late life. Additional notes may be added to the reading by me.

Full Reading (10 Cards) - $8.50

The standard past life reading is where I do a 10 card spread based off of the custom spread I created personally for past life readings. These readings will consist of: early life, teenage life, young adult life, adult life, late life, how you were seen by others, your inner self/personality, your purpose in this life, if you met any of your soulmates, and how this life effects your current one. Additional notes may be added to the reading by me.

Full Reading + 3 Cards - $11.00

This reading is like the full reading, but with the addition of 3 more cards added to the end of the spread. These cards can be picked from a list of specifics that you wish to know more about this past life for more specific info. You may choose which of the three areas of the 10 you wish to add a card (or cards) to for more detail.

Full Reading + 5 Cards - $12.50

This reading is identical to the full reading with the addition of another 5 card spread afterwards. This additional 5 card spread will help us determine in more detail your past life in specific aspects: the time period, the location, your lifestyle (job, family, social class), your biggest fears and your goals/dreams of this life.

Small Reading - $3.00

This is my affordable cheaper option for those with a tighter budget. It is a smaller version of my standard reading featuring the first 5 cards of the standard reading: early life, teenage life, young adult life, adult life and late life.

Colormancy

My readings using custom colormancy cards made from my color theory test kit. With these colors much like other forms of card readings, I will use them and their alignments to draw answers for your questions or inquiries.

One Card - $1.00

Two Cards - $1.50

Three Cards - $2.50

Five Cards - $4.00

Crystal Throwing

A crystal throwing reading is using a bunch of different crystals and a large grid and tossing randomly selected crystals onto the grid and interpreting that for divination purposes. You may also do single drawn stones from a bag or box for single simple answers.

How the reading will work:

I will receive your question(s) and then using them as a guide will throw the crystals I draw onto my grid. I will interpret the patter, placement and the crystals correspondences to give you a detailed reading. I will also take a picture of the grid and the crystals upon it.

Pricing:

The price for a standard crystal reading will be $7.00 and for every additional throwing or question you would like to add is another $3.00.

I also have an option for if you want a Large Throwing consisting of answering 5 questions and taking the use of many more crystals than a standard throwing it is $11.50.

I also offer single stone drawings for $1.00 a stone.

Energy Readings

My energy readings are not the same as aura readings, I will read your energy via what visions I get, imagery, sounds, smells, tastes and feelings. I type out my readings while I experience them (likely with my eyes closed) and will go back through to correct spelling errors before sending. Sometimes these readings delve into divination other times they don’t. I will then take what I see, feel and witness and interpret it more deeply for you and send that.

The price is 6.50 for a basic energy reading. A full detailed or extended one with additional tarot cards, crystals or other added insights can be requested and price discussed.

If you need more details on energy readings feel free to look at my Energy Reading Page

Pendulum Readings

A simple reading but good for anyone who needs simple brief answers.

One Question = $1.00

Each additional Question = $1.00

5 Question Bundle = $4.50

10 Question Bundle = $9.00

Spirit or Entity Communication = IM me to discuss possible price depending on entity/spirit, length of reading and number of questions

Deity Communication/Entity Communication

Need some help communicating with a new deity, entity or spirit? I am happy to do my best to assist you with this!

Basic Deity Communication Spread - $12.00

This reading will be done with a spread I have made and used for deity communication to contact and get information from the deity. Additional cards may be added as needed each for $1.

Add Energy Reading - add. $5.00

If needed or desired I can add on an energy reading of you and possibly the deity/entity itself onto the standard basic reading above for an additional fee

Shufflemancy

A simple reading using the playlists I have saved and relating song themes, lyrics and emotions to determine the future or advice.

Price: $4.00 for a standard, $6.50 for two songs/extended reading

Readings are currently what are allowing me to buy groceries, pay off my transit pass and purchase necessities and stay ontop of things while my part-time job is covering rent at this time. I do not know if my job that let me go will open positions and call me in the future, they seemed to let everyone go/position removal as of this past week as an indication they may be shutting down until tourism improves. 

So if you are interested in readings please feel free to reach out and IM me or send me an ask/submission. I just need email addresses to send the invoices.

Readings usually take between 7 to 14 days and they are done Sundays through Tuesdays as to not interfere with my part-time hours.

Thank you all for helping me with this. If you cannot request a commission, please reblog and signal boost this if you can. Money will be tight, my city is about to fully shut down with little to no support from our local government. I also accept tips through my Ko-Fi page as well.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

my dearest comfy, Lambden thigh dagger, please? <3

Ellie, Goobs, Followers. *insert dramatic sigh here* I apologize for how long this sat in my inbox. Apparently, I just had to get drunk to write it?

Warnings: its horny, but nothing wild, modern bounty hunter witchers, lambert in a gown? 

______________

Lambert didn’t have anything but a friendly tolerance for his fellow witcher. He was decidedly indifferent to the way Aiden smirked and crooned along to the golden oldies and spit blood onto the pavement after a particularly nasty fistfight. Nope, he didn’t care one bit that Aiden would hug him tight before they parted after a contract, no tension-breaking pat on the back, no clasped hands between their chests. A real hug. 

Lambert was absolutely professional. 

Professionally gawking at Aiden standing in the hotel doorway in an emerald green suit with his tie haphazardly slung over his neck and the top three buttons of his dress shirt open. He was holding a garment bag toward Lambert with a smirk, surely waiting for him to respond, but Lambert had no idea what he’d said. He couldn’t get past the swirling bun he’d put his signature braids into and the ornate gold septum piercing that replaced his usual thin silver-plated hoop. He thought he even detected a smudge of eyeliner around his bright green eyes and he certainly noted the subtle but enticing cologne. 

“What?”

“Oh come ooonnn, Lamb,” Aiden teased, holding the bag out a little higher, “Live a little. Have some fun. The target is at the gala downstairs so the client gave me a little wardrobe budget.”

Lambert took the garment bag and pushed past him, “I don’t like it when you call them a target. I feel like a hitman.” 

“Target, person-of-interest, fugitive, they all mean the same thing,” Aiden droned, waving his hand in the air as he poured them both a drink from the minibar that was surprisingly large. He grabbed Lambert’s hand and wrapped it around the glass himself, giving it a little pat before he spoke, “Take a drink, relax, and go get dressed. If we show up too late it’ll be suspicious.” 

The client must have been ridiculously wealthy. Even the powder room was extravagant. Lambert hung the bag on the towel rack and snickered at the array of makeup on the counter, two of each in his color and Aiden’s. He’d joked once that Aiden could use his bronzer as setting powder and it turns out he’d been right. 

“You gave them my color?” he called through the door. He’d only gotten a ‘need your help’ text four hours ago. 

“They offered. Figured we could probably keep it after the contract is over.”

Lambert frowned but let it slide, Aiden had certainly done more extravagant things with a client’s money.

When he unzipped the bag he laughed in pure disbelief, “You should have been a con man. How did you get them to pay for this?”

“Doesn’t matter, put it on.”

Lambert slipped into the delicate dress made of charcoal grey silk with a lovely little wedge of lace covering his right hip at the top of a rib-high slit up the floor-length skirt. He picked the necklace with emeralds, rather than diamonds, and reformed a few curls before blending a bit of makeup over his features. A few turns in the mirror told him he was at least acceptably dressed for a gala, if not glamorous enough to blend into the crowd. He’d need to ask Aiden about heels, but he needed zipped up first. 

“I’ll have to find a better place to hide my knife, but I clean up pretty decent, yeah?” Lambert tried to keep the blush off his cheeks as he strode up to Aiden and turned around, gesturing to the zipper. 

A soft puff of air against his shoulder was his only answer. 

He chuckled uncomfortably and flicked at the zipper resting at the small of his back, “So should I leave the dagger in plain view on my thigh then? Make a fashion statement and warning to the cunts in the room?”

Aiden’s hands finally reached for the closure, but they worked slowly, “I- uhm. Lets see what it looks like together?”

Lambert frowned but nodded, usually his colleague was the quick-witted one. He gave a quick spin when the zipper was hooked into place, holding his arms out a bit dramatically.

Aiden shook his head, licking his lips as he stepped forward into Lambert’s space again, “Nope, nuh-uh. Can’t let you leave like that.” 

“The thigh holster is a bit much then?”

“Fuck no,” Aiden breathed, reaching out to brush his fingers over the black leather holster that sat just below the hem of the lace on Lambert’s hip. They both froze for a moment, Lambert carefully watching Aiden as his eyes devoured every inch of his body in that dress.

Lambert whispered his question, terrified of breaking the tension but desperate for the answer, “Then why?”

Aiden’s eyes snapped up to his as one of his hands wrapped around the hilt of the dagger and the other rested on his opposite hip, “I’d rather watch you fall apart underneath me.”

Lambert’s mouth went dry but he found his hands moving the hold the lapel of Aiden’s jacket almost on their own, “What about the contract?”

Aiden leaned in until their lips were mere centimeters apart. Their breath mingled and their hands gripped each other a little tighter as their eyes fluttered closed, as if they were both scared the other would disappear as soon as he was out of sight. 

“What contract?”

[restlessfandoming]

“the president and the troublemaker” (part 6) (chilumi fic)

“Lumine is the student council president and Childe is the school’s number one troublemaker. They cross paths more than they’d like. Especially when Childe finds out Lumine’s big secret. Highschool AU à la Kaichou wa Maid-sama.”

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5]

[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link]

the president and the troublemaker (part 6)

Out of all the things asked of her as the student council president, this was the oddest request Lumine had ever received. 

“Please allow me to study you,” the student before her asked. 

She recognized him as Albedo, head of the school’s science club, and before, she had only ever interacted with him whenever his club submitted budget requests for new materials. 

Lumine blinked at him. “Can I ask why?” 

He pulled out a news article. It was last week’s coverage of the attackers getting caught by her. “I am interested in your abilities,” Albedo replied simply. “How you can be this studious president and yet also be able to do things like this.” 

Uh-oh. “Oh, it was nothing,” she fibbed. “They just let their guard down and I was able to...outsmart them. No big deal.” 

The science leader gave her a deadpan stare. “There must be something else.” He pulled out a notebook, beginning to scribble some words out. “We can figure this out together; what makes our school’s president so competent?” 

Lumine glanced at his writing, only making out the words ‘Day One Observations.’ She sighed. Looks like he’s a persistent one. 

“So how’s this going to work?” she wondered. “Are you just going to shadow me around school?”

Albedo looked up at her from his book. “Very good. You already understand my process.”

“And what of your classes?” 

He pulled out a slip of paper from his bag, handing it to her. “I have been excused from my classes for the week by my teachers,” he explained. “As you can see here on his paper, they have all allowed it due to my high grades and the fact that I have completed my work ahead of time.”

Lumine looked over the paper, and sure enough, it was everything Albedo had just stated. She remembered he was also a young, gifted prodigy: one of the students with the highest marks on their exams, and had won their school multiple science competitions in the past. 

“Very well,” Lumine said. “Just for this week.” 

What am I getting myself into?

* * *

For the first few days, Albedo followed her around the school—observing her in her classes, writing down notes while she ran council meetings. Any moment where she wasn’t in class, he would barrage her with questions: what her diet consisted of, how many hours of sleep she got, her exercise regiment. 

She answered as truthfully as she could, but if the questions came too close to her line of work, she of course had to mislead him. 

Whenever she lied, Albedo went deep into his thoughts, as if he knew that what she said didn’t make sense, and his brain was trying to fit her lies into the picture. She prayed that he would stop prying once the week was over. 

“Are you sure you do not exercise at all?” Albedo asked again, skimming over his notes. 

“Nope,” Lumine said. “I’m a little too busy with studying and council duties.” She gestured at the council room around them. 

“Hmm,” the prodigy hummed, writing something in the margins of his paper. Lumine turned back to her council paperwork. 

“So the rumors are true,” Childe’s voice sounded from the doorway. “The Pres got herself a little pet.”

Lumine froze. What is Childe doing? 

At school, the two were very much still in their roles as the council president and school troublemaker. No one knew about their connection outside of school. 

She glanced at Albedo, who was looking at Childe with calculating eyes. She could see the gears turning in his mind. 

Lumine cleared her throat. “Childe, please go back to class before I write you up.” 

The tall ginger leaned on the doorframe. “I get written up, but your pet gets to stay?” 

“He is not my pet,” Lumine said. “This is Albedo. He’s just doing...a study...on me.” So LEAVE, Childe. 

Childe’s brows raised. “A study? That’s why he’s been following you around this whole time?” He turned to the blonde scientist. “Tell me, what’s this study about?”

Albedo sat up a little straighter. “What causes the president to have such extraordinary abilities.”

Childe laughed. “Extraordinary abilities? Like what?”

Albedo glanced at his notebook. “She is an extremely diligent student, receiving high marks on her exams while still somehow maintaining on top of student council affairs. Not only that, but in light of recent events, has some aptitude to disarming violent attackers that should have easily overpowered any other high school girl.” He looked up. “I’ve also heard that she, and her brother, have jobs after school despite their already busy school schedules.”  

Both Lumine and Childe stared at Albedo for a second, unmoving, shocked and...impressed at his information. 

“Seems like you already know everything about her,” Childe said, crossing his arms. “Do you even need to continue your little study?” 

“Of course,” Albedo responded. “Those were just the things our President has done—not how she does it.” The scientist turned to her, his eyes studying. “Is it psychological? Or is there something physically different about her body, the way it runs and operates?”

Lumine forced herself to still under his gaze. He was a young genius. And he was getting closer to finding out her secret. 

“Nothing special about me,” she told him. “I told you, I’m just lucky.” 

Suddenly, Childe sat on the edge of her desk, breaking her and Albedo’s eye contact. “So this study,” he said looking down at the scientist, “Is this just something you’re doing at school? Or are you following her around at home too?” 

Lumine desperately wanted to shove Childe off her desk. Why was he prying so much? Albedo would soon connect the dots, and once anyone found out about their connection, she would lose any credibility she had as the council president. 

Albedo was quiet, his hand coming to his chin as he considered something. “No one has been this curious about the study so far,” he finally said. “Not even her twin.” 

“Aether’s been a little busy lately,” Lumine tried to suggest. 

But Albedo persisted. “Are you actually a friend of the President?” he asked Childe. “Or perhaps you are interested in her romantically?” 

Lumine almost choked on her spit. “Absolutely not,” she blurted. “To both of those.” She couldn’t look at Childe. “If you know so much about me, then you probably know about how Childe here is the school’s number one troublemaker. He's just here to cause trouble.”

The blonde scientist slowly nodded. “Very true.” He turned to Childe once more. “Apologies for jumping to conclusions there. It was not very proper of me.” 

Lumine finally glanced up at Childe, who was sitting surprisingly silent, his arms still crossed from earlier. She swore his blue eyes seemed darker than usual. 

“Conclusions,” Childe echoed. He stood up. “The Pres is right,” he said, smiling. Something was still wrong with his eyes. “I’m just here to mess around, nothing more.” He shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. “And now it’s boring. Later, nerds.” He sauntered out of the room. 

Lumine knew she should have been letting out a sigh of relief, but for some odd reason, it felt like an even heavier weight had been placed on her. 

“I think I need to be alone for a bit,” Lumine said to Albedo. “To get this council work done.” 

Albedo stood, gathering his notes. “I understand. Thank you for your time today.” 

As soon as Albedo left the room, Lumine left as well, her council work still incomplete. 

Instead, she headed to the one place she knew Childe would be.

* * *

Opening the door to the rooftop, the tiniest of weights was lifted upon seeing Childe sitting there, legs dangling off the edge as always. 

He turned at the sound of the door opening, but turned back away when seeing Lumine. “Am I in the way of your little pet’s study?” he said, monotone. 

She ignored the tiny pang in her heart, and she stepped forward. “Don’t take it personally; I just...can’t let him get closer to my secret,” she tried to explain. “You understand that, right?”

Childe leaned back onto his elbows, looking upwards at the sky. “I get it,” he responded. “Even if I don’t want to.” 

The silence was heavy, only the slightest wind whistling by. And honestly, Lumine hated it. It didn’t feel right to be in Childe’s presence, and not hear his voice. She had grown used to his teasing, how he always seemed to showed up in the right place at the right time somehow—for her.

She went and sat next to him, knees drawn to her chest, arms hugging her legs. 

“Is it stupid of me to want and keep this secret?” she wondered aloud. She looked up at the sky as well. “Or would it just be better for me to let it out finally?” 

“Is this because of Albedo?” Childe asked without missing a beat. 

“No. Yes. Kind of.” She sighed. “I mean, it would be easier if I told him, right? No more pretending?” She hugged her knees tighter. “If he finds out on his own...I can only imagine that feeling of betrayal—how evil, how untrustworthy I would seem for keeping secrets. So, it would be better if I was upfront about it...right?”

Childe looked at her, his expression serious. “Is this something you want for yourself or for him?” 

Lumine turned away from him. “If it’s for myself...I’m too scared of letting others know.” She swallowed the lump down her throat. “A lot of people, like Albedo, look up to me as this model student. And I’m scared of...disappointing them.” 

Childe was silent for a moment, then sat up, and pulled something out of his shirt pocket. She turned back to him.

He held it up to Lumine; it was the photo of her in Kaeya’s white dress, her face sweet and flushed. Except, unlike the official photo, this version didn’t have Childe cropped out. “You’re not one to let others influence you,” he said. “That’s why I chose the color white, remember?” 

Lumine felt the heat start building up in her face. “You just carry that around with you?” 

He gave her a closed-eye smile. “For inspiration.” He tilted his head. “You know that you should do whatever feels right to you. And whatever you end up doing, the right people will follow you.” Waving the photo around, he smiled again, more cheekily this time, and said, “I know that I wouldn’t be disappointed.” 

Lumine was sure her face was visibly burning up by now, and she reached for the photo. “Stop waving it around! What if someone sees?!” 

He pulled it further away from her. “No one’s going to see, Pres!” 

She tried going for it again, quicker this time, but Childe was much faster. “Give it here!” she demanded. 

“Aw, don’t be like that, Pres!” He laughed. “It’s my good luck charm!”

“Your good luck charm?!” she continued over their tug-of-war. “Good luck charm for what?”

Another teasing smile. “Love?” 

“Oh, you son of a—”

Lumine lunged and hit his hand. 

The photo was sent flying away from both of them. 

…

!!!

Both she and Childe quickly stood up, peering over the edge of the rooftop, only to see the photo floating down...towards Lumine’s student council members below. 

“Oh dear,” Childe said. “Look what you’ve done now, Pres.” 

Lumine’s heart felt like it was seizing from fear. “Wh-what—W-Why are they there?” Her breaths became shorter and shorter. “Oh, god, what do I do?!” 

“Shall I go get it?” 

Lumine looked at Childe, wide-eyed. “There’s no way! It’s impossible for us to get to it before they do…”

Childe blinked, then positioned himself like he was about to jump off. 

As fast as lightning, Lumine grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” 

“Taking the shortest way down.” 

“You idiot! It’s dangerous, you’re going to die!” 

He smiled. He actually smiled at a time like this? “I’m not one to shy away from danger,” he told her. “Especially if you tell me you want me to go after it.”

“What?! Why would you do something like that?!” 

“Why?”

The wind stopped rustling the trees, and the rooftop was silent. 

Childe gently grabbed both sides of Lumine’s face, his ocean blue eyes looking deeply into hers. 

“Because I love you, Lumine.” 

He kissed her. 

He kissed her, then he jumped off the rooftop. 

* * *

[part 7]

[chocolatecoats]

Helluva Boss Episode 5 thoughts

Since I’ve ranted/talked on Helluva Boss before and I’ve looked through the Helluva Boss critical tag often, I thought “Hey, why not continue?” Short version: I give the episode a 7/10. Better than episodes 4 and even 3, but still it could’ve been better.

Long version: SPOILERS AHEAD!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1. The animation is obviously more choppy than previous episodes, I’ve heard that SpindleHorse is on a much tighter budget now, but the choppiness kinda hurts to watch. I’ll give credit where credit is due, and say that some animation with Striker was rather great, especially with that last shot of him. But I’ve seen people on Youtube call this episode cleany animated already and question whether or not we watched the same thing.

2. Stolas’ and Blitzo’s relationship is rather uncomfortable. Stolas constantly makes sexual remarks at Blitzo even in public, he gives him no choice to have sex with him in exchange for running his business when legit he could be doing anything else as payment, and Blitzo clearly doesn’t want anything to do with Stolas otherwise, even having an alarm button for him at the HQ.

Usually I dislike the “Oh you would praise/hate this character for their actions if they were THIS gender!” excuse because bad writing is bad writing. But I feel that if Blitzo was a girl and the relationship with Stolas played out the same way it does, it would become less funny and more creepy to more people, as well as spawn much less fan art. Just because it’s a guy getting uncomfortable or that it’s a same sex relationship doesn’t mean it’s ok!

3. Though Blitzo is still unlikeable as hell. Him bullying Moxxie when he’s obviously saddened or anxious has made me continue to wish for his ass-kicking.

4. The show has remembered that Millie cares about her husband again, but I wish she’d stand up more to Blitzo. If she won’t, I’d like a reason for why. Perhaps it’s because she’s worried on getting fired for too much backtalk?

4. Moxxie once again gets abuse he doesn’t deserve, but it’s good that he got an episode ending that wasn’t him mentally or physically hurt, even if Episode 4 made me dislike him.

5. I do like Striker! His design is a neat change of pace from all the overly red imps, and I like the cowboy aesthetic. Also he’s voiced by Norman Reedus like what? How did they manage to get him?

He kinda reminds me of Rattlesnake Jake from Rango, albeit way less cool.

6. I believe the pacing here went by waaaaay too fast.

7. On that ending...yeah it seems Stella’s gonna be a real baddie. But regardless, this doesn’t excuse Stolas’ relationship actions. They’re both awful and I feel bad for Octavia here for having to deal with them.

Though I am curious if she knows...or even cares about what Stella’s trying to do. EDIT: The fight scenes were pretty well done! And even though the animation could get choppy at points, the shading in this episode looked really pretty! Like DAMN!

Overall, while its a big improvement, and I’d say it’s probably tied with Murdr Family for second best episode. Although....Vivziepop still isn’t the great storyteller I’ve seen Youtube comments consider her as. Getting well known voice talent for this show really isn’t worth the cuts to animation frames.

[secrettheorist]

Royally Flushed

Poker. A strategy game that makes or breaks people, but me? Oh I love poker. One of the few things my father taught me that I actually enjoy. His main lesson, “play the player, not the game.” He told me poker is like real life in a lot of ways, if you know what to look for, then you know how to use it to your advantage. People lie, people bluff, and my absolute favorite, people play to win. So yeah, I love poker.

I had the opportunity to go shopping and bought a stunning new dress and heels, for a special occasion of  course. It is royal blue and when paired with some simple black heels, it makes my eyes shine a little. Though the occasion was for a good reason. Charity would be the only reason I flaunt my wealth and I enjoy doing so. I have been in a handful of magazines about my generous donations to several organizations, even some that I have a determined staff running. One thing my father didn’t teach me was how money can make a difference. 

 I had set aside whatever I had spent on my outfit to donate the same amount at the door. I am usually not one to blow lots of money on a whim...usually. 

I walked into the elegant venue and gave my keys to the valet. I told myself that I had a budget and I wouldn’t go overboard like last time, but If I was having fun then well….I would continue to have fun. Increasing my spending amount at a charity event would hardly be the worst thing I’ve ever done. 

I’m greeted by several people as I walk in and honestly I am not much for small talk but I was invited here so I smile and chat before making my way to the cash office. I get $50,000 in chips  and turn towards the poker room. Most buy-ins are around twenty-five thousand but If the night goes bad I don’t want to look like an idiot for having to get up and cash in more money for chips.

I sat down and a beautiful woman approached me and asked for my preferred drink. Usually I would say scotch, and a lot of it, but I am here to play so I ask for a club soda instead. 

“Buy-in $25,000, is that alright Miss?” A young gentleman says to me and I nod, smiling before sliding over my chips to exchange them, “Thank you, and good luck.”

I am settling in stacking my chips up when the most horrible thing happens. A group of men sit at the now full table of six and I clutch one of my chips a little tighter. 

“Hello there darlin’ ….didn’t expect you to be on this side of the city.”

I swallowed hard and tried to greet this asshat with grace. His disgusting hazel eyes calmly looked at me. His presence makes me want to kill him, and he knows that. Chase McCullen, my idiotic adopted brother. “And I didn’t expect them to let just anyone into an event like this. How was prison Chase?”

“Dunno, didn’t go.” He slapped a thick wad of cash down along with two of his buddies. I knew he was going to ruin this night for me.

“Why are you here? I can’t imagine you were invited.”

“Oh sis… I was.” He tossed me one of the same card invites I received and I looked it over. To the Collins. Chase was unfortunately a legal Collins even if no one wanted him to be. My father’s only mistake he actually regretted. 

“Well that cowboy hat is stupid.” I said having no better comeback to his ploy to just dig his way under my skin. 

“Oh so you like it? Perhaps after I win a bunch of money I’ll let you buy it from me, I’ll need a new one anyway.” 

I knew it wasn’t likely for him to beat me at poker fairly but it would certainly be exciting to really play him again. “Perhaps we play for it instead? That way when I win it fairly I can burn it later.”

I watched him laugh at that and then the cards being dealt. Several hands went by and I was just starting to settle in as Chase talked to his friends. I didn’t have much to say except a few comments on the hands played every now and then. Chase was a better player than I expected but he had always been lucky. Father didn’t teach him the same things he taught me.

[...]

Hours went by and three club sodas later, it was just me, Chase and one other man still at the table. “Since when do you not drink?” He asked out of nowhere. 

“Since I chose not to.”

“Loser. Have some scotch.” He said then snapped his fingers, “You… Leslie right? Bring my darling sister some scotch please?” He asked as he flicked her a fifty dollar chip with a wink, “The good stuff.” It amazes me how people find him attractive.

“Chase I don’t--” 

“One glass Avery. Please...just like old times. Then I’ll give you my hat to burn.” 

I knew there had to have been a catch to this. I was there for a good time but here was the thorn in my side twisting and turning to get me to do what he wanted. “Fine. One glass then you cash out and leave me alone.”

“What?? No way! This game was just now gettin’ good!” He beamed and scratched the stubble on his chin, “Tell you what, you win the table, I will leave you alone for good.”

Now that was music to my ears. “I don’t buy that for a second.”

“Why? Scared I’ll win?”

“As if. No, you didn’t give another side to that bet.”

“No other side, You lose and I have gloating privileges. Doesn’t get much better.”

“I don’t believe you for a second.”

“Play me and find out…” He said and I sat back and looked around. He was drawing a crowd. I hated crowds. 

“Fine.” 

The woman handed me a scotch and I caught Chase with his smug grin, “To friendly poker!” he said, clinking his glass to mine. I thought he’d spill it all over the table but he managed to not make a mess for the first time in his life. I took a sip and cracked my knuckles. It was time for him to finally leave me alone.

[...]

I knew it wasn’t lady like to cuss, but two more drinks in, Chase had me saying shit as he won one of the biggest pots of the night. The game was hardly over but it still hurt to see him getting the upper hand on me. Him mocking me and saying he was better alway dug into my core even though I knew it wasn’t true. Chase was a lot of things, but I was a much better person than him.

 It was just us at the table now and I could feel the eyes on me watching our game. Chase alway was an entertainer, and I should have known better than to start drinking, but here we were. 

“All in.” 

I blink at that and look at him. He hadn’t even looked at his cards. “What?!”

“You heard me buttercup...All. In.” He said, shoving his massive stack of chips into the middle of the table. 

“You didn’t even look at your cards.”

“So, makes it interestin’ doesn’t it.” He said, smirking at me. 

I swallow the last of my scotch down and check my hand one more time. I know going all in is an idiotic move, which is why he did it. I try not to show my reaction when all I have is what I think is a black ten and red seven. It wasn’t the best hand and my vision had been playing tricks on me. 

“Come on. It's just money… Ain’t like you don’t got more waiting on ya. Think of the kids.”

I really wanted to stab him, but another scotch came and I didn’t even see who gave it to me as I tipped the whole thing back and called his bet. “All in.”

The dealer starts off with the flop as Chase smokes his cigar. I am on the edge of my seat but I see a seven flop down along with a three and a five. Having a pair is better than nothing at all. If I chewed my nails I would be biting them as the dealer then flips another three down. I look at Chase who isn’t even paying attention as the final card flips. A ten. I have two pair which I am even surprised I have and I look at Chase. “You first.”

“Aw is baby sis scared?”  I try not to throw my glass at him, “How about on three?” 

I nod and on three I flip my two pairs down and look at his hand and pale. He had a three and fucking five. Chase grins but like an actual gentleman he's not he extends his hand, “That was a great game Avery. We should do It again.”

I want to kill him, cuss at him, but people are watching and I do not need a cover story on how I was a sore loser. I swallow hard instead and try to not seem too drunk and stand with a lopsided smile, “Yeah that was a great game.” I choked out and shook his hand. 

“Don’t worry, I’m donating it. It is what you would do with it. Thanks for drinking with me.” He tipped his hat and the dealer gave him the correct chip count and Chase and his buddies disappeared. I was reeling but if he did one good thing in his life, it was this moment. 

I tipped the dealer and the woman apparently named Lesie and made my way to get my car. It was late after all, but then I realized I had been drinking a lot. There was no way I could drive home, not that I would even try. 

I sighed and took a breath stepping out to the cool night air and waited a moment. I needed to call my driver, but as I went to get my phone out of my purse my vision blurred more and I braced myself up against the wall. I had drank way too much, but I didn’t think it was black out drunk though. I fumble with my bag and drop my phone but someone picks it up and steadies me. My head feels so cloudy I don’t even think to see who it was. I mumble a thanks but it doesn’t quite sound like that, and that person does not hand me my phone back.

“Oh...no problem sis. I got you. Looks like you had too much to drink. Don’t worry though, I’ll take goooood care of ya.”

Before I could even say anything else to him my vision darkened and I felt him lift me over his shoulder. The last thing I remembered was the lid of the trunk coming down with a loud crash. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought I had been drugged.

[kate04us]

What Happens on Stakeout...

@virtualtaleinternet asked for # 6 from the kisses part of this prompt list: “Kissing to hide from the bad guys” Thank you so much for nudging my muse back into the sandbox. I had a lot of fun playing with this!

The night was a lot colder than Sharon had thought when she left her condo earlier, wearing skinny jeans, ankle boots, and a light jacket over her red blouse. Then again, she hadn’t expected to still be here two hours later, lurking at a street corner with Lieutenant Flynn as they waited for their suspect to come out of the club. They had found a small ledge at the mouth of a dark alley where they sat and talked, their heads close together. From their vantage point they were able to see the club’s side doors, and to the casual observer, they looked like a couple that took a little break from the club to get some air and quiet. They got regular updates from their team inside, which consisted of Detectives Sykes and Sanchez, as well as Lieutenant Tao. Buzz and Lieutenant Provenza coordinated the entire operation from a surveillance van that was parked across the road from the front entrance.

Sharon hadn’t commented on her oldest Lieutenant’s insistence that he didn’t lurk when she had assigned posts for the night. To be honest, she was more than happy that she didn’t have to spend her evening with him. At least Lieutenant Flynn was trying to be civil. It had taken him a while to relax and warm up to her, but once he had, he turned out to be pretty good company. They had killed some time by talking about the case at first, before they had moved on to the recent round of budget cuts, and much to her secret delight, department gossip. People still went quiet whenever she walked into a room, so she had a hard time hearing all the juicy bits of news that floated around the building. That her Lieutenant thought to share with her made her believe that maybe he was slowly starting to accept her as part of the team.

After that, they talked about their children, a topic Sharon never tired of, and Flynn was an attentive and patient listener. His stories about his own children were tinged with sadness, however, as he shared some of the problems he encountered in his quest to make amends. Sharon knew something about lost trust and how hard it was to rebuild, but she felt bad for him, because it was easy to see how hard he tried and how much he wanted to repair what he had broken. She felt even worse for her own children, because their father never attempted to make things right.

Listening to Andy talk about his grandmother’s necklace that he intended to give his daughter for her birthday in a few weeks, Sharon hooked her left ankle over her knee. She took off her shoe and adjusted the seam of her stockings that had been digging into her toe for quite a while, sighing in relief once she put her shoe back on and the pressure was gone. Before she had a chance to straighten up again or notice that Andy had stopped talking, she was hauled to her feet, backed into the brick wall, and had a mouth firmly pressed against hers.

Her surprised squeal was muffled as he didn’t allow her to draw away from him. She was about to either slap him or shove him away when she caught movement out of the corner of her eyes. Apparently, their suspect had exited the club, but he wasn’t alone. With him was one of the women she and Andy had interviewed as witnesses earlier that day. If she saw them, they would surely be recognized, and their entire plan would fall apart. Obviously, Andy had registered the threat way ahead of her.

Sharon didn’t appreciate his spontaneous disguise, but it was too late to change tactics. Shaking herself out of her shock, Sharon looped her arms around his neck and drew him closer. Following her lead, Andy stepped in between her slightly spread legs, his arms around her back holding her even tighter. Without conscious thought, her eyes slipped close as he gently nibbled on her lower lip. Later, she would be embarrassed about the soft moan that escaped her, but Andy Flynn was a spectacular kisser, even when he was just faking it.

And then it suddenly didn’t feel all that fake anymore. His tongue traced her lower lip, soothing the skin he had just nibbled on, and her lips parted, welcoming his tongue, and caressing it with her own. The sensation sent a shiver down her spine, and for a long moment, she forgot all about suspects, and witnesses, and colleagues that were close by. She decided that she was going to enjoy this moment, that after all these years, she would allow herself these fleeting seconds of pleasure. Once their case was put to bed and Sharon found herself in the solitude of her home, she would spend endless hours analyzing this and berate herself for getting pulled into one of Andy Flynn’s crazy schemes. For now, though, she would focus on the present moment, on the faint taste of coffee on his lips and the heat of his body so close to hers, chasing away the chill of the night. She would enjoy the way his hands caressed her back in long, firm strokes, the feeling of their hips pressed together, and the way her fingers slid through his surprisingly soft hair.

It was Lieutenant Tao tapping Andy on the shoulder that dragged them back to reality. Andy sprang back as if he had been stung by a bee, leaving Sharon to struggle for control of her breathing while discretely holding onto the wall with one hand and trying very hard not to turn the shade of a tomato. Looking around the corner of the alley, Sharon saw Detectives Sykes and Sanchez following their suspect at a slight distance. She closed her eyes for a second, drew a deep breath, and refocused on the task at hand.

“Lieutenant, I want you to join Detectives Sykes and Sanchez. Take turns trailing Sanders and see if he leads us anywhere interesting. I’ll have Lieutenant Provenza join you.”

Andy snorted and Mike couldn’t suppress a grin. They all knew how much her second in command would complain, but it couldn’t be helped.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant, but you will have to put up with him for a little while. Mr. Sanders’ companion knows Lieutenant Flynn and me. We can’t risk her spotting us.”

She held his gaze for a moment, and to her relief, his eyes widened, and his mouth opened slightly as the reason for the unusual scene he had encountered suddenly dawned on him.

“All right,” he replied, nodding, “I’ll... uhm –“ He gestured in the direction his colleagues had gone and, at her nod, followed them at a quick pace.

Mike’s departure left them in an awkward silence, neither one of them daring to look at the other for an endless moment, but they had no time to dwell on what had happened. Clearing her throat, Sharon slowly raised her eyes to meet his gaze, finding him a little flushed, one of his hands rubbing at the back of his head.

“Come on, Lieutenant. We should get back to the van.”

Her voice sounded huskier than usual to her, but she hoped that he wouldn’t notice. If he did, he was kind enough not to comment on it. Andy fell into step beside her as they hurried down the street and around the corner. They jogged across the street to the spot where the surveillance van was parked. Before they opened the door, Sharon put a hand on his arm to make him pause and look at her. She wanted to say something, to reassure them both that what had happened in that alley wouldn’t change anything, that it was just a tactical maneuver, and that she wasn’t angry. She couldn’t find the right words, however. Anything she came up with sounded either like he needed forgiveness for what he had done or too much like she had enjoyed it. That she had, in fact, enjoyed kissing him was beside the point, and he most definitely didn’t need to know that.

In the end, she settled for a gentle squeeze of his arm, a soft smile, and a nod of her head. When she saw his shoulders sag in relief, she knew that he understood. They had kissed, and they both might have enjoyed it, but there was no need to mention it again. They respected one another enough to take it for what it was and move on. It would be one of those fond, yet slightly awkward memories that was never shared with anyone else. And if, later, when she was alone, she decided to review it for her own enjoyment, she was certain that Andy wouldn’t hold it against her.

[expectingtofly]

dean/cas fic

~2k

also posted on ao3

How to Say I Love You with Socks

Another movie night in the Dean-Cave. Dean and Castiel took up their usual spaces on the couch, Dean on one end, Castiel on the other. Close, but not close enough. Dean didn’t know how to change that. He was just happy they were together and alive. Their lives had been chaos lately—rushing from hunt to hunt, Castiel running low on grace. This night was their first chance in weeks to take a breath.

Halfway through The Untouchables, though, Dean realized Castiel didn't look quite so relaxed. He had pulled his knees up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs.

“You alright, Cas?” he asked.

Frowning, Castiel pulled his eyes from the TV. “It seems that since my grace is diminished, I can’t regulate my body temperature as well.” A shiver hitched his shoulders.

“You’re cold,” Dean realized. Grabbing a blanket, he slid closer to drape it over Castiel’s shoulders. “Here.”

Contentment spread across Castiel’s face as he wrapped the blanket tighter around himself. His shoulders relaxed and he smiled at Dean. “Thank you.”

Dean realized his hand was still resting on Castiel’s back and he pulled it away. “Of course.” Tearing his eyes away from the sight Castiel made, cozy and warm, he retreated back to his side of the couch.

When the movie ended, Dean let the credits play, not wanting to hasten the inevitable moment when they both got up and went to their separate rooms. In the black screen he could see their reflections, two shapes on either side of the couch, wide distance between them. There was always so much space between them, but he was too hesitant to close it, afraid he'd cross a line, ruin a friendship, a happy night.

Sighing, he turned off the TV and the room went silent. They headed back to the hallway where the doors to their bedrooms stood.

“Goodnight,” Castiel said when they reached Dean’s door. He started to walk away, still holding the blanket around himself, and Dean realized Castiel's feet were bare.

“Wait a moment,” he said. Going into his room, he rummaged through his dresser. “Take these,” he said, returning to where Castiel stood in the doorway and handing him a pair of his warmest socks, thick wool. “Put them on.”

Dutifully, Castiel did so. “They're very warm," he said with a happy sigh, looking down at his socked feet.

“Keep them,” Dean said. They stood there for a moment longer in the doorway, until Dean stepped back. "Well, goodnight," he said, wishing he knew how to put into words what he really wanted to say.

“Goodnight.”

Maybe it was Castiel's content sigh that Dean was thinking of when he was running errands the next day. Maybe he was thinking of the words he hadn't been able to say last night or any night. Maybe that’s why when he saw a pair of fuzzy socks, he decided to buy them.  

He felt sheepish putting the socks on the cashier conveyor belt. “They’re for my niece,” he lied when the cashier picked them up to scan them, feeling like he, a grown man, should have an appropriate excuse for buying yellow socks covered in tiny bees. The cashier only gave him a glance, seemingly not interested in the slightest.

He felt even more embarrassed when he found Castiel in the map room back at the bunker and gave him the socks. But Castiel's reaction was worth it.

“I love them,” Castiel breathed, taking them from Dean. Quickly, he pulled off Dean’s wool socks and pulled on the new ones. Dean had to smile at the way he wiggled his toes in the yellow socks and smiled up at him.

An urge filled him to bend down and press a kiss to Castiel’s lips, but instead he contented himself with patting Castiel on the shoulder. "You're welcome."

There had always been something unspoken between him and Castiel. Something unbreakable tying them together over the years as they grew closer and grew apart, fought and found their way back to each other. Castiel had once called it their “profound bond," but Dean didn't know what that meant in practical terms. He had tried calling Castiel a friend, had tried calling him a brother. Neither of those words seemed enough.

The next time Dean saw a pair of fuzzy socks, he bought them… and the time after that, and the time after that, and so on. He created a whole family of aunts and nieces and a mother and cousins with which to explain his purchases to cashiers. Castiel soon had a whole drawer designated for socks. Striped socks, polka dotted socks, fluffy socks, fuzzy socks, red socks, blue socks.

Buying them for Castiel seemed such a small gesture, but they always made Castiel smile. Maybe it wasn’t so small after all.

And maybe Castiel understood what Dean meant when he gave him a new pair of socks. Because one night when their movie ended and they made their way back to their rooms, Castiel paused in the hallway. “Can I… Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Dean forgot how to speak for a moment, nodded quickly. “Yeah, of course,” he managed.

They didn’t speak as they lay down and pulled up the covers. His heart pounding, Dean turned off the lamp on his nightstand and settled down. He could feel Castiel's arm against his, felt Castiel shiver.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“A little,” Castiel admitted and shifted, his socked foot brushing Dean’s foot, soft cotton.

After a moment’s hesitation, Dean wrapped his arm around him. “Better?” he asked.

“Yes,” Castiel said, sliding closer to Dean. “Much better.”

They began sleeping next to each other every night, moving closer and closer until they lay in each other’s arms. After years of yearning looks, they had progressed to something more tangible, though Dean didn’t know what to call this new development. He didn’t know what would happen if he tried to voice it, tried to give it a name. Castiel still shivered when he walked through the bunker. Dean bought him more socks.

Socks made of wool and cotton, socks that shed, socks that soon became threadbare around the heel, socks stained with blood after hunts.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said after one such hunt where they discovered a vampire nest. He dropped his hand from where he’d held it over Dean’s arm. The gash from Dean’s elbow to wrist had stitched itself together slowly, the angry, red scar fading somewhat, though it still stung fiercely. “I wish I could do more.”

“You did more than enough,” Dean said, taking his hand as Castiel pulled him to his feet. His chest still felt tight, his hands shaky from the close call. Castiel had used his depleting grace to take down two vampires going after Sam, and Dean saw the exhaustion in his eyes, thought they must mirror his own.

Sam walked through the barn, counting how many vampires they had killed. “You guys good?” he called. When Dean nodded, he stepped outside the barn, out of view. Dean realized he was still holding Castiel's hand, slick with blood.

“Are you sure you're alright?” he asked, looking back at Castiel. Castiel nodded and a smudge of blood on his chin drew Dean’s eyes. Hesitantly, Dean wiped at it with his thumb. Then he let his hand stay there, cupping Castiel’s face, his eyes trailing over the soft lines of Castiel’s mouth.

“Dean,” Castiel said quietly, and Dean realized he was holding his breath. Before he could lose his courage, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Castiel's, a feather-light touch. The tightness in his chest unfurled when Castiel lifted a hand to his face and pressed their mouths closer together, soft but insistent.

“We should’ve done that years ago," Castiel whispered when slowly they broke apart and met each other's eyes.

Dean let out a shaky breath. "Yes, we should've."

Sam called for them to hurry up and, still breathless, Dean let go of Castiel's hand. Castiel looked down at his clothes, trench coat dirty and bloody. “These were new,” he complained, pulling up his pant leg to gesture to his socks—light blue dotted with stitched white clouds, now stained dark red.

Dean laughed, his head light. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

Socks Castiel wore on movie nights, socks Castiel tried to get Dean to wear, socks Castiel picked out, pointing to different ones in the store and Dean placing them in the cart. Holiday themed socks, movie themed socks, socks with tiny animals, socks with garish, gaudy colors that Dean pretended to hate. Castiel didn't shiver anymore. Dean kept buying him socks.

“How much of our budget is going towards socks?” Sam asked them when they returned from the grocery store with yet another pair. (Had Dean realized before now that grocery stores sold socks? No, but it seemed he was now a magnet for them.)

“Credit card fraud, Sam,” Dean said, restocking the fridge. “It’s other people’s money.”

“And these are special,” Castiel said, sitting down at the kitchen table to pull them on. “They’re ‘spa socks infused with lotion.’”

“Spa socks?” Sam asked, looking at Dean, not bothering to hide the smile on his face.

“Shut up,” Dean said. He was pretty sure Sam knew about him and Castiel—there was a particular look in his eyes when they came into the kitchen together in the mornings, when they left for long rides in Baby. He didn't mind that Sam knew, but he didn’t want to speak of it yet; this blossoming offshoot of the bond between him and Castiel still felt so new, so light. He was almost afraid it would collapse like a pyramid of cards if he spoke too loudly, tried to define it. He told himself he was just happy it existed.

Mismatched socks, blue and green stripes on Castiel’s left foot and corgis on his right, as he and Dean walked through a Walmart. Castiel refused to throw out any socks, even when he lost one to the dryer, or wherever socks disappeared to—hence the mismatched pairs. Or maybe he mismatched them on purpose; maybe he hadn’t figured out adult humans always match their socks. Either way, Dean never mentioned it because it was, he had to admit, a pretty adorable habit.

He was looking down the store aisles, trying to figure out where the toilet paper was, when Castiel said, “Wait, look!” and veered off to the left.

“What?—oh.” Dean caught sight of the rack of socks Castiel was headed towards. “Cas, you have an obsession.”

“That is completely your fault.” Castiel stopped in front of the rack and scanned the footwear.

Dean was about to point out a pair— actually, Cas might already own those, he thought—when Castiel inhaled sharply. “Look at these.”

Dean turned to see what he was pointing at. Slippers. Large, plushy, yellow and black striped slippers with eyes and antennas to show that they were bees. Bee slippers.

They were atrocious.

Castiel reached out and squeezed one of the slippers in his hands. “There’s two pairs, we can match.”

The smile he turned on Dean was teasing, to show he wasn’t expecting Dean to say yes. Which was smart, because Dean was not going to say yes.

But then Castiel added, “That is something couples do, isn’t it? Match with each other?” and Dean’s heart skipped a beat.

Castiel had called them a couple. Had spoken of them, together. Dean hadn't realized how badly he'd wanted to hear them, their relationship, acknowledged. And suddenly, when spoken aloud, this blossoming thing, this growing relationship between them, didn't seem so tenuous, in danger of collapse. It felt weightier, like it was built to last.

Castiel dropped his hand from the slippers, and Dean knew a few years ago he would’ve told Castiel that only nauseatingly cute, annoying couples wore matching slippers. Now he knew what he really wanted to say, knew exactly what to call the bond between them.

He pulled the slippers off the rack. “Yes, they do,” he said. “When they’re in love and want everyone to know it.”

"In love," Castiel repeated, blue eyes searching Dean's.

Dean smiled. "Yes."

A tiny part of him wanted to curl up in embarrassment when they brought the slippers to check out, but a greater part of him prompted him, instead, to lace his fingers with Castiel’s and kiss him on the forehead. Castiel smiled up at him. The bee slippers eyed him from the plastic shopping bag. The cashier said, “That’ll be $21.39.”

And when Dean and Castiel padded into the kitchen the next morning in their matching, beady-eyed, lopsided antenna slippers, Dean didn’t even mind the stifled laughter they were met with from Sam.

“You’re just jealous,” Dean said, threading his arm around Castiel’s waist and pulling him close. “They’re very comfortable.”

“And very warm,” Castiel added. He tapped his slippered foot against Dean’s, like the bees were kissing, and Sam pretended to gag. Smiling, Dean tapped Castiel's slipper back, then kissed him for real.

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